Posted on Nov 11, 2017
I know we are well into November—and the onset of winter—but I will still refer to this as my fall blog. Hopefully next month, I will return to my regular monthly musings. So much has happened in my life since the spring. I have definitely traversed my own Heroine’s Journey—and it’s been quite the wild ride! To (re)discover one’s Self is…well, it’s quite beyond words, really. I do know that I am grateful for the opportunity taken. Intimidating and scary as it was to embark on this Journey, the rewards have been beyond estimation. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. And I’ve no regrets.
I’ve looked back a few times (fortunately, not turning into a pillar of salt—for those familiar with the biblical OT story of Lot’s wife); but all I have seen is how far I’ve come. Obviously I am writing this while in a “good place.” There have definitely been many times of quiet (and not so quiet) despair. Along with the usual suspects of longing, anger, hurt, pain, insecurity, and intense confusion/questioning. I have had to close chapters of my life story and begin new ones.
Recently, my sister lent me a book called Anam Ċara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom by John O’Donohue (1997). Anam Ċara is Gaelic for soul friend. And while most of us look outside ourselves for that soul friend (and I am blessed to have more than one of those), I am learning to look inside myself as well. To befriend that deepest part of myself. Here’s a compilation of quotes that really resonated with me:
“The soul needs love as urgently as the body needs air. In the warmth of love, the soul can be itself. All the possibilities of your human destiny are asleep in your soul. You are here to realize and honour these possibilities. When love comes in to your life, unrecognized dimensions of your destiny awaken and blossom and grow. Possibility is the secret heart of time…Love is the nature of the soul. When we love and allow ourselves to be loved, we begin more and more to inhabit the kingdom of the eternal…We do not need to go out to find love; rather, we need to be still and let love discover us…We cannot fill up our emptiness with objects, possessions, or people. We have to go deeper into that emptiness; then we will find beneath nothingness the flame of love waiting to warm us.” (O’Donohue, pp. 9-12)
How beautiful is that! Which makes me think of the blogs I wrote about The Void (worth a re-read even for me). It’s something we all have to face, or else we get caught up in filling it with objects, possessions, or people—some leading to addictions of every shape, size, and colour. My “drug” of choice is food and sometimes retail therapy in the form of bargain hunting. In those moments, I have to become mindful of what is going on for me and choose a healthier coping strategy or method of self-soothing. Music is a big one for me—with no weight gain or self-loathing or over-spending. Journalling is another, as well as being out in nature.
One of the blessings of being where I am now is that I can look out my front window and observe nature without leaving the comfort of my cabin in cold weather! Yesterday, a wood pecker decided to taste-test the exterior of my humble abode right by the window. Fortunately, it didn’t have the right flavour; so he moved on to something more palatable. I also saw a deer in the distance; but the trees directly in front of my cabin blocked my view. Back to watching the wood pecker and other perching birds. Reminds me, I need to refill the bird feeder.
Pardon the wandering off on a rabbit trail.? Back to possibilities: “All the possibilities of your human destiny are asleep in your soul. You are here to realize and honour these possibilities.”(O’Donohue, p. 9) Within that inner Void lie possibilities. If we drown out the Void, we miss out. Embarking on my Heroine’s Journey of self discovery provided me the opportunity to realize and honour the possibilities deep within—to live out my True Self—to find my purpose. We each have personal purpose lying within the Void of possibilities. Your destiny—should you wish to accept it—is waiting to be awakened.
The word that struck me was “honour.” I cannot honour what lies deep within if I don’t befriend my soul—if I don’t allow myself to love and be loved—if I don’t look beneath the nothingness to find the flame of love waiting to ignite me. I am reminded of another Celtic concept: praying through the elements, particularly breathing in the Fiery Presence to become Fire. I need to let go of self-denial and self-denigration if I am to honour and realize the possibilities within—to be ignited or set on fire, as it were.
This brings to mind a quote by Marianne Williamson that has been used in a couple of “overcoming-the-odds” movies such as Coach Carter (2005) starring Samuel L. Jackson and Akeela and the Bee (2006) with Angela Bassett, Laurence Fishburne, and Keke Palmer. On a side note, these movies follow the Hero’s Quest motif from each gender’s perspective: Coach Carter, the masculine; Akeela and the Bee, the feminine.
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we’re liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
(pp. 190-191 of “A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles” by Marianne Williamson, 1993)
Embrace your possibilities. Or we risk growing stagnant, even bitter and resentful. Incapable of giving and receiving love.
“Others want to love, to give themselves, but they have no energy. They carry around in their hearts the corpses of past relationships and are addicted to hurt as confirmation of identity.” (O’Donohue, pp. 12-13)
What a profound metaphor for how we self-sabotage. We carry around the corpses of past relationships (the wounding by others). We can’t let go and free ourselves to honour possibilities. We strangely think that if we let go, we lose our sense of self, our identity. Somehow we have become convinced that the hurt is who we are. We become stuck in victim mode. Let go of the past hurts. Release yourself to live anew. To become a world of possibilities…
”To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour.” poet William Blake (1757-1827)
That pep talk is as much for me as for you dear readers, my friends and fellow life-travellers. I may need to post the phrase, “Embrace your possibility,” somewhere I can see it everyday; along with “Befriend your own soul.” That really could be a killer combination—befriending myself and embracing the possibilities that surface. Who knows what could all come of that! ?
So…Allow the inner Void to exist. Peer over the edge. Let the spaciousness you see speak to you. And then look past, beneath the nothingness, to the flame of love waiting to warm and ignite you. It will illuminate the possibilities just waiting to be honoured and realized.
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Posted on Nov 16, 2016
“Madame Michel has the elegance of the hedgehog: on the outside she is covered in quills, a real fortress, but my gut feeling is that on the inside, she has the same simple refinement as the hedgehog: a deceptively indolent little creature, fiercely solitary–and terrible elegant. ”
― Muriel Barbery, The Elegance of the Hedgehog
An interesting theme has doggedly pursued me for the past couple weeks. It started with the book club selection, The Elegance of the Hedgehog, by Muriel Barbery (2008). It is not the easiest book to read; but once you get half way through, it becomes very engaging and thought provoking. The theme of the book is being seen and loved/accepted for who we are—yet we go to great lengths to hide our true selves from others—for fear of rejection, judgment, being misunderstood, being unseen, being lost, being wounded.
For me, this theme of being seen by others for who we truly are has also surfaced in sessions, friendships, and social media. The Universe is not letting this one go for me! Evidently I have a significant lesson to learn. I am fascinated that we do not see ourselves as others see us—the good, the bad, the ugly. Yet even our best efforts at hiding cannot dim our light for those who see us sparkle. They can see through the subterfuge—are not put off by it—but simply, gently pursue what they see—maybe even light their own candle by the inner flame of those they encounter.
I have had to squirm my way through this concept of self-acceptance and sense of value these past couple weeks. Not only to be present for my clients also squirming through this one in sessions, but for my personal growth and development: to know that others hold the shiny with dull with complete acceptance and maybe even understanding. I am continuously amazed by the strength and beauty in my clients—a light they cannot always see or are comfortable with. So it is somewhat ironic that others see my inner light even when I don’t. And yes, it makes me uncomfortable to be seen. I am just as afraid as my clients.
There is something about feeling exposed, vulnerable, and unworthy in being seen. We learned at a very early age that love can’t be trusted. That being our true selves leads to pain and suffering. That it is much safer to hide and put on a persona of self-protection. That our dull aspects have no value, are beyond polishing. And yet, there remain those incredibly special souls who see through all of that and wish to draw us out of our protective shells. It is terrifying. Another ironic twist is how I must terrify my clients when I attempt to bring forth their inner light. The word exposure comes to mind as well as safety, trust, and patience.
The absurd conundrum is: we obsess about what “everyone” thinks of us when “everyone” doesn’t even care. And if they do, it is to make judgments; but they are surface judgments without seeing or appreciating our deepest selves. We worry about what impression we are making, when that is not what we are meant to do with our time and energy—or even money. Our true light will shine regardless of what impression or mirage we try to construct. And for those to whom mirages matter—we must ask ourselves, why are we trying to impress them? What benefit is it to us what someone else thinks? How does that help us live more fully?
We get dreadfully distracted from our life purpose when we try to hide behind an impression or mirage. We have no one to impress. We have only to shine. Our true selves will be honoured by those who can see the light. And those who are blinded by smoke and mirrors don’t value what they see anyways.
When we get comfortable in our skin, value our unique contribution to life on this planet, we can confidently go where we’ve never gone before. If others bask in our light, let them. If others prefer to dull our sparkle, get out the chamois to restore the brilliance. Our task is twofold: to continue to shine despite the naysayers—the “everyone” we are trying to impress yet who don’t care; and to soak up the warmth from the flames of fellow, brightly-lit souls. If we add a third task, it would be to contribute to the radiance of others—especially when they don’t see it themselves.
Shine on Beautiful Soul reading this, shine on! Blind others with your brightness.
“It would be so much better if we could share our insecurity, if we could all venture inside ourselves and realize that green beans and vitamin C, however much they nurture us, cannot save lives, or sustain our souls.”
― Muriel Barbery, The Elegance of the Hedgehog
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Posted on Sep 24, 2016
“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.” – Rachel Carson
As I write this, I am enjoying a few days away spent in the Rocky Mountains of Jasper National Park. It is absolutely delightful to be among nature, in an unhurried pace. Nothing to accomplish but refreshing the soul. I am also reminded how much I love autumn. At least the first part: once the leaves fall, the trees are bare, and the world is grey until the snow comes to stay, I find the season a bit wearying. On the plus side, it is always rejuvenating being in nature, regardless of its mood—unless there’s a blizzard.
“To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.” – George Santayana
Maybe it’s not so much being in nature as connecting with it. One can more readily connect with a blizzard if one is cozy inside their home or cabin. Even the darker moods of nature have lessons to teach us about our vulnerability and need for each other. We are such finite specks in the grand scheme of things. Sometimes I think technology dulls our senses to our vulnerability and need for connection.
At any rate, I agree with John Burroughs: “I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.” Not only does being in nature regain perspective, it does soothe my soul. It is like there is a reset button that gets pressed when I take a stroll through a forest. Anthony Douglas Williams words it well when he says, “Take a quiet walk with Mother Nature. It will nurture your mind, body, and soul.”
Going for a nature walk gives your mind something else to ponder besides the daily grind. Quiet reflection has a mind-altering ability—no drugs required. Your body moves in unaccustomed ways as it maneuvers the uneven terrain. It may even get your heart pounding and your lungs heaving—life-giving oxygen pulsing to the outermost regions of your body. What the soul experiences is for you to feel as well as contemplate. This is more than a mental or physical exercise—emotion accompanies any outdoor pursuit.
I feel very fortunate that I live in relative close proximity to dramatic vistas and geographic wonders. However, specific surroundings are not required to appreciate nature. Wherever you find yourself, nature is willing to speak to you; or as George Santayana poetically puts it: The earth has music for those who listen.
I realize this blog has borrowed words from several others. Maybe it’s because I find I am at a loss for words to express the eloquence of Mother Nature herself. I do know that my soul is soothed, my mind quieted, by body restored by being where I am.
May you experience the healing power of Nature even if it means stepping out your front door and taking a deep breath of autumn air.
“The muffled syllables that Nature speaks
Fill us with deeper longing for her word;
She hides a meaning that the spirit seeks,
She makes a sweeter music than is heard.”
― George Santayana
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Posted on Jun 17, 2014
Last month was quite remarkable in how a few themes wove together into the tapestry of my life story. For book club, I was reading Orphan Train by Christina Baker Kline (2008). This novel is a beautiful and transforming blend of two stories of two different orphans from two different eras in two different “Children’s Aid” systems. These two main characters’ lives cross paths through unusual circumstances and find healing through the sharing of their stories.
At the risk of generating a spoiler for a book that is well worth the read, the parallels to my own life were somewhat uncanny and even disturbing in that the author was able to write so profoundly about a subject she spent hours researching—including interviewing young and old. It is not a story of her personal experience, yet she writes like she lived it—or at least crawled inside the minds of abandoned children and wrote from their thoughts and feelings.
The novel dovetailed with my own story upon the arrival of a cherished item from my childhood—my birth mom’s antique, upright piano. It has survived many prairie moves, but none so far as to cross all the Prairie Provinces in one go. This aged piano does not have an illustrious pedigree or background story—other than it was gifted to my mother by her piano teacher who had it shipped from Kingston, ON to Western Manitoba somewhere around the turn of the last century. I do not know when it came into my mother’s possession—before marriage or after. It has certainly been part of the living room furniture as long as I can remember. She learned to play on this piano, as did I, and my younger half-sister.
I was a bit nervous about the arrival of this piano. It has so much unexplainable significance to me. I was concerned I might crumble into a puddle of tears. So I was much surprised when the opposite happened: I felt a door had opened and reinserted a piece of my soul; or as if I had finally awaken from a two-year nightmare. A lost piece of me was back.
So how does this connect with the Orphan Train? Well, a thread woven through the narrative was the significance of symbols that connect us to blood family. The older woman had a Claddagh (the hands represent friendship, the heart represents love, and the crown represents loyalty) pendant on a silver chain from her beloved Irish grandmother. The only connection this older orphan had left were her memories and that pendant. The teenager in the story had also received charms for a bracelet from her father, for her eighth birthday, before he died. These charms were in the shapes of animals with symbolic meaning from his Native Indian culture: a bird for protection, a bear for courage, and a fish for resisting the negative influence of others. These symbolic treasures went with these orphans to every place they ever called home—even when what little they did have had to be left behind on occasion.
Intersecting with the symbols were narrative threads about what we can carry with us through life depending on our circumstances (such as portaging one’s canoe of belongings from one body of water to another). Once I wove together the significance of my piano as a connection to my blood family, I had to chuckle at the thought of portaging my piano in a canoe! However, I am fortunate that the many moves my family did make were not limited to canoe-loads. I have not had to transport my treasures in trunks across the ocean, in canoes, or even backpacks. My piano remains a connection to my past because of the amenities of the present—such as transport trucks—and not being completely separated from family.
Symbols are significant. What treasures in your life lift you up or weigh you down? Do they trip you up or enable you to move on? Do you have to make huge adjustments to accommodate your symbolic treasures? Or are most of them carried in your soul without tangible reminders?
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Posted on Mar 15, 2014
May the blessing of the rain be on you—
the soft sweet rain.
May it fall upon your spirit
so that all the little flowers may spring up,
and shed their sweetness on the air.
May the blessing of the great rains be on you,
may they beat upon your spirit
and wash it fair and clean,
and leave there many a shining pool
where the blue of heaven shines,
and sometimes a star.
~Irish Blessing
With St. Patrick’s Day around the corner, the blessings of the Irish come to mind for this month’s blog. While it feels more apt to snow than rain with this fickle weather, the sentiment is fitting for this time of year—for our spirits to be rejuvenated, spreading joy to others. The spring rains will come and with it new growth shedding sweetness on the air, highlighted by blue skies and reflective puddles. All the better in our spirits as well as upon the earth.
Having had surgery earlier this month—after a week of recovery, slowly returning to regular rhythm and routine—it feels like I’ve rounded a corner, turned a page, begun a new chapter. How fitting that it coincides with the turning of the seasons.
With the blank page before me, I wonder what will be written as the chapter moves ahead. It’s off to a good start, at any rate, with physical as well as spiritual healing. This time of rest has prompted rethinking who I am and what I want out of life as well as what I contribute to Life as a whole.
I have affirmed that much of my life will continue to focus on helping women be the best they can be: to overcome internalized messages, limitations of socialization, toxic relationships; to broaden their view of themselves and how they live in the world.
It’s certainly been a life changing, healing journey for me. I’m yearning to peek around the next corner to see what’s ahead; but I haven’t mastered ‘living in the moment’ yet. For now, I will anticipate spring’s gentle rains to enliven my spirit once again, to encourage new growth that sweetens the air—and the people—around me. Maybe those tears of grief I wrote about awhile back truly are enriching the soil of my soul. I look forward to nurturing what sprouts!
May there always be work for your hands to do.
May your purse always hold a coin or two.
May the sun always shine on your windowpane.
May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain.
May the hand of a friend always be near you.
May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.
~Irish Blessing
Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
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Posted on Apr 15, 2013
“The great challenge is living your wounds through instead of thinking them through.”
~Henri Nouwen
I have recently finished reading through the book The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey through Anguish to Freedom by Henri Nouwen (1998). It is a polished version of his own journal entries of a very significant time for him. For me, it was a rather strange experience—a bit like voyeurism—peeking into the interior life of another person. The strange part was how much I related to his journey—somewhat like reading my own journal using someone else’s words.
Some of which he talked about, I have already been through; some was new ground for me. Some points I disagreed with, others I agreed with fully. It was a very personal journey made public—yet it was a shared experience in that we all struggle through anguish hoping to find freedom from it. Our journeys are the same, yet vastly different. Public yet personal
One entry that resonated with me was entitled, “Live Your Wounds Through.” Nouwen’s concluding thoughts that day were:
You have to let go of the need to stay in control of your pain and trust in the healing power of your heart. There your hurts can find a safe place to be received, and once they have been received, they lose their power to inflict damage and become fruitful soil for new life. Think of each wound as you would a child who has been hurt by a friend. As long as that child is ranting and raving, trying to get back at the friend, one wound leads to another. But when the child can experience the consoling embrace of a parent, she or he can live through the pain, return to the friend, forgive, and build up a new relationship. Be gentle with yourself, and let your heart be your loving parent as you live your wounds through.(Nouwen, 1998, p. 110).
These words struck a powerful chord with me. Being a (recovering) control freak, I am very prone to wanting to control my emotional pain. As well, I don’t give the healing power of my heart much credit. So I end up inhibiting the healing process. It is like telling my body how to heal from a deep gash—but no pain allowed. Without the reminder of the pain to be careful, the same wound can easily get re-injured over and over again—hindering the natural healing process.
I want to work around the emotional pain of deep internal wounds. If I could think my way through, then I render the pain impotent and unnecessary. Not only is my heart not a safe place for my wounds, I also deprive that place to become “fruitful soil for new life.” I would rather live damaged and disabled than healed and fruitful. I would also rather live pain-free than parent/nurture myself and build a new understanding of/relationship with my own self. How we stunt our own personal growth!
Somehow we have convinced ourselves that pain is harmful and to be avoided at all costs; that somehow once we experience pain, we won’t feel anything else—ever again; that pain is permanent—nor can it co-exist with other emotions and/or states of being. Sometimes our pain is indeed overwhelming. Hence our need for support systems—even if as frail as our attempts to parent/nurture our own selves or our allowing our wounds to be received by our own hearts.
What is getting in the way of your own pain journey? What is blocking your path through grief to restoration and joy? May you enlist the courage to live through your woundedness, to ‘be there’ for yourself with kindness and gentleness, to work through the anguish to freedom.
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