Monthly Archives: October 2019

Confusion is a Gift

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Recently I attended a film presented by the Kelowna film festival society. I loved its strangeness, its experimental questioning of reality. However, as I left two women ahead of me walked slowly while conversing. One said, “What was that?” The second said, “I couldn’t understand it at all.”

As I thought about it, I remembered all of the things I have come across that I just didn’t get. The list includes software, new technology, music, movies, plays, books, cultures, doorways, water faucets, foods. It goes on and on. Each time I came across that place of puzzled frustration, I knew that my brain was going to have to rewire, lay down new neurons, grow, become more agile.

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And being in a state of mindfulness gives us the scope and clarity to see ourselves flashing fear. It is by observing our minds that we see that we are purposefully locking ourselves into a state of stultified imprisonment. I want only what I have always wanted. I refuse to engage in a process that grows me to be something more than I have always been. The place of promise is in the confusion. The chance to become more is when we arrive at a place where we simply don’t know what to think. And that is when we learn how to think, how to solve problems, how to seek out the challenges.

I was reminded as I left the movie that being in a space of not knowing leaves us always without the small minded locked down surety that we are always right. And so it begins.

Easy Peasy

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As I was making my bed with the elephant imprinted sheets raising its trunk in the air to bring in prosperity, I was thinking about effort. Struggle, work, denial, sweat, striving, stress were all presented to me in my family as a sign of virtue. To work hard and to occasionally suffer greatly meant that you were a valuable person.

My entire family indulged in workaholism. My parents each had two jobs. My mother went to night school to become a hospital administrator. I came home each day after school and cleaned, did laundry, waxed floors. My social outings restricted to the library to “work” on school assignments. I took double loads at university, worked several jobs and danced in the campus Orchesis Modern Dance troupe.

I slid the sheets on the corners of my bed and thought about how ridiculous it is to require of people that they suffer from work enough to prove that they hold value. World glass gymnast, skateboarders, Olympic athletes, professional surfers do not look like they are out of control, exhausted and awkward.

beauty in the mundane


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Their performance is an easy, graceful flow. We see how completely they trust their own bodies as we watch their performances.

So what I have come to realize as I make the beds, prepare the house for the next guests seven days a week, is the effortlessness of it. I move easily, efficiently with skill. I do not take in deep suffering breaths and talk to myself about the challenge of hosting 887 people since January. I just stay NOW. I just enjoy the sunshine when I go out to sweep the deck or carry the garbage to the alley.

Acceptance of things as they are opens us up to a high performance life. We are trusting that the calm, expansive place of flow will bring greater skills to us. We will learn over time. We will get better at that which we practice. Anyone who is good at what he or she does knows how to loosen up and allow the skill to build with repetition. On the crest of the wave, there is a place of balance.

Vibration Setting

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I have spent the last three weeks reading, watching videos, listening to teachers who talk about the neurological patterning in the brain. These sources all emphasize the signature energy that an individual is operating within. I have downloaded three graphs that breakdown how much each form of emotion carries within it a “force”.

One graph even analyzes which chemicals are released when an individual is experiencing a particular emotion. The stairs spiral up to PEACE and down to GUILT.

For decades I have a practice of observing my thoughts and behaviour. As soon as I wake up, I check in to see where the hell I am now. I scan my body. I search back into my dreams and then I see where my emotions want to take me this particular new beginning.

It is similar to waking up a two year old. “Who will this person be now?” I ask myself about myself.

Last night a guest from India walked around the house most of the night and finally settled into a chair directly by my bedroom door to talk on her cell phone. I threw on my bathrobe and informed her that it would be best if you moved her struggle with insomnia to the kitchen area. Like a bad virus, her disease had become mine.

This morning I was so tempted… so very tempted to let myself sink down. The pain up the left side of my neck and into my ear were signaling that a migraine wanted to start. I have been carefully resting and meditating for three days to clear a cold and raw, sore throat. Yesterday as I sat in the coffee shop, I felt almost normal enough to not “feel myself” at all. I think that is called peace on the spectrum.

And so I put peppermint oil in the diffuser and began to remind myself that I was not a self indulgent weakling who allows the dark webby energy of illness and frustration to obscure my windows. I congratulated myself on being kind and understanding to the woman.

I found my gages, switches, buttons in my control panel and I turned on the higher vibe. As I now look out the window I see the yellow leaves like a thousand shining suns hanging in the air. I see their beauty and radiance. I have been breathing in to clear the guilt of anger that wants to store in my body. I blow it out.

beauty of small things

Remembering that how we feel, how we think, how we treat ourselves is all a result of habit, I once again practice. Lately, I have been in the upper ranges on the vibration charts.
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I know because I find my mind turns to absurdist humour when I feel safe and optimistic. Instead of responding to the political landscape by crouching down into a freshly blow open by explosive news fox hole, I write a comedy script. I find myself amused, my commentary wacky, unexpected and delightful.

My vibration level has moved up the scale. It is easier to resist ‘going out into the garden and eating green worms’. This is a saying my mother would throw at me when I was mourning the lack of care in my home. Nope. I go out looking for fireflies, for golden leaves, for the kind eyes of others.

I bring a light heart. While I was standing in line at London Drugs yesterday, I thought perhaps it was the “scowl” line. Everyone behind me was face- fisted, clenched with downcast eyes. There was a sense of aftermath grief that hung over the mannerly queue.

I put down a candy bar and said, “I am getting this candy bar from New Zealand in order to fool myself into thinking that my life is exotic. Maybe, I will think I have travelled when I eat it.”

Then I told the man behind me it was disgraceful that he had only two small items when I had seen him in the store for two hours. One was supposed to come to the cash register with $100 worth of items one had not intend to buy at all.

what did I buy?

The people in the line began to smile and talk to one another. They talked about their collection of this and thats that they had not intended to buy.

And just like that the entire group moved up a step or two in vibrational energy. It was a group of smiling people who were connecting to one another. It is magic. It is glorious, beautiful magic that happens when one has the courage to just play, fool around, talk to strangers. All energy fields are catching.

So I know I can vibe myself up higher today. It helps that I have promised myself a nap. I am the boss of me. Green worms have never attracted me even once.

Clinging to the mountain side.

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I awoke with the sledge hammer hades migraine that had eaten the left side of my head. My left ear felt invaded by some spine covered probing sea monster arm. The probe included the tightening wrench around my neck vertebrate. As usual, I woke up to a sense that I was in migraine torture land and then after the second full breath everything hit at once. The onslaught of pain, nausea, ear ache, neck saw grinding welcomed me to the day.

Mindfulness practice is so amazing in these times of the wave of physical punishment. I began by breathing into my neck and down my ear. The second issue was to calm down the story my ego was telling me.

Oh yes, you nasty creature, you love these openings for a dark tale that ends in grave markers in the partial darkness in some Victorian church yard. “This is your life from now on,” it hissed at me. “Today will be wasted. Your life will be wasted. You will never become what you want to gloriously be because your body is disintegrating.”

Ego tells an amazing ghost story, doesn’t she. And not just at Halloween.

I had fallen asleep listening to Joe Despinoza describing how he healed his body and did self psychic surgery installing new neurons for calm and optimism.

I had fallen asleep listening to how everything can be changed.

Ego cackled at me, “You can listen to that stuff all day but you can’t escape me. The pain is part of your life path. It is like a pet parasite that is your discomfort companion.”

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I sat and was breathing in light and settling into my body. Don’t resist it. I know this. Simply feel into it and let what ever is happening become part of me.

all in the brain

I took it slow and worked with all of it. There was no crushing defeat, no imprisoning sense of doom. A few tears flowed and I thought, “Pain makes me sad. I feel sad now.”

What I didn’t say was that this was forever, that the sadness would continue that I could never heal myself, that all hope for myself was over. What I didn’t say was that my ego was accurate and that the person I am now will be my forever energy signature.

I just sat. And the physical pain lifted. The emotional thrashing ended. What happens in the new “now places” will be different. Because I am learning and growing.

Despair is for chumps. (I am saying this in a 1930’s gangster movie voice-over).

The Joy of Grief

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Stored grief, trapped grief, neglected and locked up in the basement or attic grief can be ignored. We are encouraged in our culture to imprison it immediately and never look upon its face again.

Stored grief becomes baseline anxiety. It haunts our system like a poltergeist. We may jump at sounds, flinch at a massage therapists touch, see personal attacks in the words or looks of another individual. Stored grief makes us frightened children. We are telling ourselves that we are not big enough, strong enough, mature enough, powerful enough to look at this grief with clear vision. Our culture tells us that we are not whole enough to experience the entirety of emotions.

Only some emotions are allowed in. But grief is already housed in us. We have suffered a plethora of grief stories by the time we are adults. It is a Netflix, Crave vastness of stories of loss, abandonment, physical pain. And we in our human condition are newborn soft. Our bodies are fragile. Our minds are untrained and nervous. Our yearnings are childish. We are walking the earth without armour plating.

And so IT happens. The loss shears away some part of our lives we thought was eternal. The abandonment occurs again and again. The insults to our spirits occur on a daily basis. The more that we are enduring, the more that we are obscuring.

Life strikes us

The only way that we can free ourselves of the fragility of our state is to understand it fully. The body will tell us when we are wounded. The breath will tell us when we are experiencing fear. In that moment, if we are to be adults, we must feel what is happening to us physically. We must stop and see the sadness that has just been triggered within us.

Thich Nhat Han says, “We must hold our grief like a baby.”
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To sit with the grief, the sadness, the wounding, the pain and hold it in our arms takes an adult spirit. To see that life costs us in so many ways and when the next loss appears, it is our duty to ourselves to hold it in our arms. And so we cry. And so we weep. We release the grief so that it will not haunt us every single day. We are unafraid to say that we are merely human. We are unafraid to say that right now, this day or this week, I am processing grief. It is different than clinging to grief so that we can get attention.

We can grow ourselves.

It is different than dragging grief behind us in the childish grip like a teddy bear.

We recognize the pain of being human when it arises so that we may release it. Only when we are no longer haunted by the locked up ghosts can we let the light and the joy in.

Let us shift the culture so that we allow others to feel both grief and, through releasing it, the joy that comes next. Anger is being worn like a cutting edge fashion statement at the current time.

And anger is neither here nor there.

Throw open your windows to all of life. Get rid of the ghosts.