Saturday, 14 April 2018

It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood

It's Saturday. I'm home and loving it. Working the grind, the Monday to Friday slavitude, can be tiring so I'm grateful to be able to allow my day to unfold with the rhythm of my heart.

I have a few errands to run and I like to get out and take care of business so I can hunker down at home for the afternoon. Plus I'm outta weed...

Being a list person, I make a plan. Bank, groceries, dispensary. I live in a smallish city so I'm fortunate that the 3 stops will get me back home in just over an hour. I love the area where I've spent the lion's share of my 55 years on the planet. My first stop at the bank is to open an RRSP account so I can lessen the amount of tax I seem to owe the government every year in spite of the thousands I've already handed over. I'd rather do that and get the deduction and keep my money rather than having more tax taken off my diminishing pay cheque. The process is easy - the bank teller is knowledgeable and asks me all the right questions to ensure I'm opening the right kind of account. Within 15 minutes I'm done and onto the next stop. Woohoo.

Begin a vegan can be a bit challenging for groceries. There are 3 stores within my area that supply the foods I eat and I know where to go for the cheapest price for the various products. Today I'm stopping at Whole Foods, an absolutely beautiful shopping experience. The energy in this store generated from the fresh organic foods and generally happy people make it a high vibrational atmosphere.

My last stop is the dispensary. I'm not a drinker (I'd fill a few blogs to explain why... lol) but I do enjoy a puff. I'm grateful for the convenience and guidance a dispensary provides. I'm not advocating chronic smoking however it beats the hell outta meeting some teenager in an alley. If I can go to a liquor store to buy booze, why can't I purchase a mind-altering substance of a different kind in a regulated manner. That's a whole other argument which seems to be playing out and moving forward.

I'm a member at Trees - a premier dispensary in our area. As the legalities get worked out in Canada, Trees is positioning themselves to be a frontrunner in the distribution following all current laws, displaying proper permits, well-paid knowledgeable staff, and environmentally-conscious. They even have a recycling program for their packaging giving 10% off when you bring back the plastic sleeves.

There's no other customers when I arrive so I start chatting with the two fellas behind the counter both of whom I've seen several times before. They're upbeat and talking about how spectacular their walk to work was this morning and how it's Spring and the birds are back. I'm delighted that these 'young guys' are in tune with nature (though they're probably late 20s-30ish). The one guy starts talking about his experience living in Edmonton where the magpies responded to him playing his didgeridoo. He made friends with them and they mimicked each other's sounds back and forth. They noticed his routine and would wait for him to come home from work and play with them. After a few months he had up to sixty birds singing with him. He said he loved communicating with birds and knew several different calls, and proceeded to perform them. It was a magical exchange and it filled my heart. Beautiful people. I have faith that all will be well in this world with the millenials. I finished my transaction and was about to leave when the guy with the dreadlocks (it is a dispensary after all...) told me to hold on. He went over to a jar and grabbed a pre-rolled J, handed it to me and said thanks for chatting with us. My heart wells. He goes on to say what a great customer I am, always happy and smiling when I come in and they're genuinely glad to see me. I'm moved to tears by the kind words and the gesture. Ahhh you're gonna make me cry, I say. All three guys in the store then say goodbye calling me by my name.

I walk out to my vehicle feeling so blissful in my world. Grateful to be alive and surrounded by beautiful souls.

However it does occur to me when you're on a first name basis with the weed guys I might be too good of a customer!

Happy 420

Tuesday, 15 August 2017

I am a Grown-Up

A few weeks ago my son fixed up my bike for me. I've got a somewhat derelict of a two-wheeler complete with fenders and a rat-trap though the upper hinge portion is long gone (that's why they invented bungi cords!).  Originally I borrowed the bike from a co-worker who's ex-wife had left it behind. That was over 8 years ago and that machine just morphed into mine. The memory foam seat is well worn with my butt impression.

L'il Black, as I fondly call her, was dormant for a few years. She stayed at my mother's place 2 hours north of my home for 2 years as I didn't have a vehicle to bring her back. I finally did and again she sat...

My son (handsome and handy) pumped up the tires, oiled & adjusted the chain, tightened the spokes and checked the brake cables. I was off.

I had forgotten the utter sense of freedom and joy my soul felt gliding along the pathways. I was elated. I'd found a place where I paradoxically lost myself in how alive I was.

L'il Black and I have subsequently spent many hours together exploring the extensive trail system in the beautiful city where I reside. My goal, for years now, has been to cycle to work roughly 10 km into the city about 35 minutes along the scenic cycling route sans car traffic. A rejuvenating ride indeed.

Last weekend I thought I'd explore one of the other cycle routes and headed north with 3 water bottles strapped to the rack on the back fender. I had my bike helmet on the handle bars...  here's where the disconnect between me and other people begins... In our area it is a law (of sorts) to wear a helmet. I do not like to wear a helmet, or a hat of any kind really. Not just cause it wrecks my hair but it's not comfortable, I get hot, yada, yada, yada. Basically I hate stuff on my head.

So I'm blissfully riding along a trail. A pack of riders pass by me decked out in spandex gear and aerodynamic helmets complete with the fancy shoes that fit in the toe clips. All male and from what I can tell roughly my age group (50+). One of the jackaroos chuckles to his buddy as he passes by "good place for the helmet".  I realize it's meant for me and my ego bubbles up and I holler "thanks for your comments". I am incensed. The group veers off to a coffee house and I continue along the bike path playing the interaction over and over again in my mind wishing I'd thought of some wittier response or even the ego's favourite... fuck off! For the next 15 minutes I can't quell the voice and I ride harder in an effort to switch my focus and release the energy.

Why does his comment irritate me so deeply?  This is why:

I am a Grown-Up. 

To refine it further I am a sovereign being fully capable of assessing a situation and taking appropriate action to ensure my safety.

I'm fed up with the North American attitude of safety-ing ourselves to death in an effort to circumvent any possibility of something not nice happening.  Don't get me wrong, just as the saying goes there is a time and a place, similarly where there is a need measures will be taken.

I've successfully ridden a bike for over 50 years and will continue to enjoy the breeze in my hair as I connect with myself and my world on my faithful steed.

Tuesday, 8 November 2016

Hello said a small voice

I got home today, sat down at my beloved HP window to the world, and my gmail was open to a facebook notification from last April.

What the what?  How does my email open itself up?

Last spring I took an online writing course. It was wonderful. However I'm shy at my core (some people find that one hard to believe) and wasn't much at the participation aspect of the course.

I finally got brave and wrote a little ditty to post on the class wall and the instructor commented. And that's what email my computer met me with this afternoon.

I haven’t written in months and perhaps this was a nudge to blog?  I don’t know. But here it is.

Spirit you are so cool...

Hello said a small voice from the back.

Slowly they turned, expecting to see someone but what they saw was a golden light emanating from a spot on the ground. It grew and as the light grew so did the sound. But it wasn’t words… it was music, like a choir singing, or was it?
No one really knew. What they did know was how they felt.
Warm and joyful. Elated and content at the same time. Smiles formed on their faces as tears welled in their eyes. Held in this space for an immeasurable length of time, seemingly cradled in an energetic bubble of love.
As quickly as it started, the sound silenced and the light dimmed, and they could see her.
You came they said.
Yes said the small voice, I found you all.

I do belong. 

Wednesday, 13 July 2016

The Necessity of Sadness

I recently read a blog of my all-time favouritest writer ever Jenny Lawson aka The Bloggess. And she is.
I love her bold, brave honesty; she writes succinctly - with humour - about depression, darkness and the shadows. So many of us deal with situations, stress and emotions that qualify our participation in those categories whether we are awake to it or not.
Hi Jenny,
You don't know me ... yet  hehehe (in a good way of course)
I love you. Thank you for being so courageous and sharing your experiences which ultimately helps the masses and that, my Spiritual Warrior Sister, whether you know you are or not, is raising consciousness on this fabulous planet we live on.
Bless you.
This is a drawing by Jenny as well.
She reeks of creativity!

My own spiritual journey - amplified over the past 4 years - has led me to understand more deeply the nature of reality and this earthwalk we humans are on. A big part in how one weathers the experience is acceptance and letting go of things (people, experiences, behaviours). Two simple statements but complex at the root and takes much practice to alter the programming we've worn for as long as we can remember.

Although we can't make the darkness go away - it's a necessary component of the equation - by learning and understanding What's Really Going On (aka consciousness) it somehow it makes it just a little easier to ride out the waves, relax and enjoy the ride!

So if you want to explore What's Really Going On, The Untethered Soul is an awesome book. Only 180 pages, short chapters, easy to comprehend. Super cool concepts about this human experience.

And Jenny. Read Jenny Lawson's blog The Bloggess  (link above).
She's not about consciousness per se, just Real and damn funny.

You'll love her too.

Sunday, 10 July 2016

Save the Apples

I have a fabulously abundant apple tree in my backyard. And it's old too. You can tell by the bark (no offense to those humans over 50 like me cause pretty much you can tell a human is old by their bark).
Each summer I give a couple of boxes of apples to the food bank and that makes me feel really good. I have an incredible peach tree too that I share the bounty with the neighbour who works at a seniors home. He says they like fresh fruit with their breakfast. That makes me feel really good too and I could go on about how important it is for seniors to have fresh fruit however this blog is about saving the apples.

Under the apple tree is a rock patio. I don't want to call it a gravel patio as the rock I picked out is much prettier than gravel. More ovally stones in brown and white tones... and much easier on bare feet - gravel can really hurt! Anyway as the apples ripen, they regularly fall off the tree either from the squirrels running amuk amidst the branches or the occasional blustery day. The problem is when the apples hit the ground from 20 ft up they're bruised, split and non-edible. And they're perfectly good apples or at least were. I hate to see such bounty go to waste especially when there's people who would love to be chowing down on an apple. Serve the masses healthy food I say! Let's be honest, humanity would be a lot better off if we all stopped consuming hordes of crap.

I've tried a number of gimmicks including draping netting between a few chairs to catch the apples. My son took a pic and sent it to his siblings so they could all laugh at their crazy mother. And I did save a number of apples; made navigating around my backyard treacherous though.

So I come home from work today and find my son working on his car in the driveway. We chat for a bit and my gaze is drawn to a handful of bruised apples strewn about the rocks.

Me   I have a new plan, I announce.
The boy   Better than the chairs and the netting?
Me   I know you guys laughed at me.
The boy   At least it wasn't to your face.
Me   My new plan, I pause, is to lay some foam pads on the ground so when the apples drop they won't bruise.
I remind him about feeding the homeless.
The boy   Mom, he says in his most understanding voice, I don't think our backyard would look that great with a bunch of foam pads covering the patio.
Me   It wouldn't be for long I say. Just a month or so...
The boy   I have a better idea.
And my eldest child unveils a brilliant scheme.
The boy   Move the trampoline under the tree. It has a net around it too so they won't bounce off.
Mom, we can Save the Apples.

Love that boy.

Saturday, 16 April 2016

Colouring should be Fun

I've joined a Psychic Development circle with the intention to deepen my connection to spirit. There's 11 of us in total not surprisingly as 11 is THE number. I'm quite sure y'all get the reference as the whole 11:11 thing is pretty mainstream by now.

We're given homework at the first class. It's a colouring page the medium-teacher has chosen for each of us. You'd think this would be straightforward and enjoyable. Sigh, not for me.

I have attempted this mandela colouring meditation in the past year as it's gained favour across the country. Even my cousin on the east coast displayed pictures on Facebook of their family dinner where everyone had a colouring page at their place setting. My spirit peeps have been delving in this type of meditation for a couple of years now.

For me, it's like filling out a Form. I despise Forms. Some questions just irritate me and others outright send me down a path of questioning the world at large. It's like my brain starts sparking and fizzling leading to a complete shut down dependant on the length and stupidity level of the Form.

I searched for felts and pencil crayons in my daughter's room looting from pockets of stationery stashed in the madness that is a teenager's and sat down task at hand.

It didn't take long for the resistance to arise.
What colour should I use here? 
I should make a pattern. It can't repeat too much.
This is a terrible outline. It isn't even a closed circle. I'm going to have to merge colours.
I can't put purple here. It's too close to the other purple circle. 
Damn, I didn't count this out well. This looks terrible. 
I can't erase felts.
I can't start over.
This sucks.

Anything but meditative. I put it aside.

The night before class my family is over. My grandson spies the page on the chair. Out of the corner of my eye I see him pick up a crayola and starting colouring. I'm grateful. I suggest he move to the table and we spread out all the felt pens. Soon my daughter joins him and they complete the homework for me.

I take it to class the next evening. The first gal to share has noticed the differences in each of our approaches and colour schemes. As a therapist she has insight of personality traits and extensive knowledge of the chakras as a healer. I find this fascinating as she makes a quick assessment of each of our methods particularly as mine is about one third 4-year old. Things like outlining, vibrancy of tones, all give hints to who we are and where we're currently at. One of my close peeps had mostly purple in hers which makes sense as her third eye is stretching wide open these days! Another woman whose struggling with her level of empathy and needs to set some spiritual boundaries had set her intention for a balanced life and coloured her drawing very rooted - earth chakra - on the bottom half - and a myriad of colours above; an expression of allowing yet setting limits.

About 90% of the class found it a relaxing experience, one lady even disappearing for over an hour in blissful state. When it was my turn to share, I told a completely different story, a detailed diatribe relating the exercise to my hatred and frustration for Forms and how ultimately I just wasn't doing it. I 'fessed up it was actually my offspring that finished it but they could tell that.

Ruth (not her real name) gave me a detailed analysis of my psyche which I found most intriguing. She said I'm so 'out the box' that I don't like rules or anything that is trying to keep me 'in the box'. I giggled. She said you're gregarious and this is just nonsense for you. You'd rather be out there and helping people. Awww... the laughter turned to love and my eyes began to leak. I barely know this woman at all and it feels like she saw my inner light. The one that grows everyday as I nurture my soul.

The teacher-medium had a bit of a different perspective, likening my feelings to a block or I can't settle my mind or something like that but I'm sticking with the gregarious Angel...

Tuesday, 29 March 2016

Spiritual Warrior

I did this Facebook online game that tells your personality based on your selection (multiple-choice) of what you initially see when glancing at a multi-item picture.

My results...

You have a uniquely creative personality!

My interest is piqued.

"The main things in life for you are your intuition, wisdom, joy, satisfaction and curiosity." yep
"Your life is painted in a multitude of beautiful colours, and you're always looking at it through the prism of creativity." definitely me
"You live your life in constant anticipation of experiencing something new and wonderful." I'm likin' this
"However, at the moment you feel a lot of aggression inside. It's possible that recently you've been experiencing a lot of negative emotions and have the desire to finally resolve something that's been bugging you for a long time. You need to calm down and relax."

What the what?  I shouldn't be surprised... the Universe IS a mind reader.

Indeed many of my spiritual navigation tools (cards, number sequences, synchronicities) along with my wakeful sleep have all exposed the anger bubble brewing in my belly. Something occurred earlier this month which ignited a dormant pocket of fuel. Enough. Time for the peaceful warrior to take her stand.

Spiritually I know better than to hang onto anger as it only poisons oneself.
And wouldn't you know in a recent Reiki session an enormous anaconda energy presented itself and lay along the right side of my body - the male aspect - with its head upon my chest. I literally could feel this snake spirit resting on me and the slight movement of its breath. At the time I thought it was the Reiki master and I was thinking, okay that's a little weird but whatever, I'm safe and comfortable... The snake then coiled up over my abdomen and released eggs through my body at a cellular level to cleanse the poison. (I do live a most interesting life)

Thankfully after 20 days (and another visit from the snake, a couple of ravens and an eagle) I'm moving into Acceptance. Less stressful on the physical body. To aid my warrior stance I've participated in numerous Releasing Rituals some with chanting and burning under the full moon (fully dressed but only cause it was March). I was glad to find out that Letting Go was a process and can be practiced like Yoga - several times a week.  You show it to the door, and somehow it keeps creeping back in.  I was thinking I missed something. I put the list under the Boot in the Closet just like the psychic said and dang if HE didn't pop back into my thoughts.

Forgiveness? Not there yet. The story hasn't quite played out. The finale has yet to take place. And once I've moved through and released every heart-rendering scenario (my egoic mind's attempt to keep me in the box) I will joyfully welcome Forgiveness. I've got way too much dancing to do...

Don't let anyone walk through your mind with their dirty feet