The Tao of Dr. Seuss...

Putting One Foot In Front of the Other...

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One foot in front of the other.  One step, and then another and then another after that.  That's what life is all about.

Some days it seems more difficult than others, and some days it feels like we could walk on forever.  Sometimes we feel like we are walking in the same straight line over and over and over.  And over.  Sometimes we vary the route and discover that the scenery changes, perhaps to our liking, more than we had realized.

I'm using walking as an example.  There are those who are unable to walk physically for a variety of reasons.  But move forward we must or we stagnate, whether it is by our own two feet or by the motion of wheels...even if those wheels are simply turning in our own mind.

Life is about change, constant and frequent change.  Some of that change is life altering and much of it is simply felt in our day to day life.

Whenever change happened in our lives, my mother would tell us that "change is as good as a rest" and I find myself saying that as well.  Often.

I've had a favourite stylist for my hair for the past 10 years.  She knows me, she knows what I like and we work well together.  I was thinking the other day that she's been with this salon since she left school and wondered how much longer she would stay.  I was also thinking that we are getting "stale".  We've been doing this for so long and read each other so well that maybe someone else would take a different approach with my hair and my style.

My son came home over the weekend from having his hair cut by this lovely young woman to tell me that she is moving to the same city where he will be moving in the fall.  My immediate reaction was one of shock because I hadn't seen it coming.  Or so I thought because really, I had.  I could feel those waves of change in the air and didn't recognize them at the time.

I'm happy for her that she is finally taking a huge leap and not only leaving the only salon and only employer she has ever known, she is leaving this city where she has spent her life and venturing to a new one and expanding her horizons.

I'm happy for her.  I'm happy for myself that this hair and I will find out what someone else can do with me and I'm open to the discovery.

Why I'll be Boycotting the State of Mississippi ...

I read this in my local newspaper yesterday (Toronto Star).  It made me angry.  It made me sick.

I've been through Mississippi only once, this past February while driving to Louisiana and then on to Florida.  We didn't stop, we didn't stay...we didn't even stop long enough for a bathroom break or a cold drink.  And I know that I will never step foot, or the wheels of my car in this state ever again.  Even if it means an out of the way detour.

I am sure there are some fine people who live in the state of Mississippi.  Sadly, some of them are living in a state of denial.  They are backwards in their thinking and apparently they like it that way.  That this happened in a Baptist Church sizzles around the edges of my brain.  I was "raised" in the Baptist Church and fought it every step of the way.  I did leave it...we were not a good match.  I couldn't deal with the hypocrisy and the closed mindedness.  I started out as an Anglican courtesy of my mother but my father insisted we do it "his" way -- and no, he did not attend Church but we were expected to.  What can I say.  It's just the way it was.

It's time that Mississippi brought itself into this century and that the good  God fearing, Bible reading, Bible thumping white people of some of these Churches remembered that the Lord DOES NOT DISCRIMINATE.  After all, he lets THEM into the Churches doesn't he??

Yes, things like this bring out the fierce in me.  If there is justice and goodness and decency in this world, things like this bring out the fierce in everyone. If we do not speak up when we see injustice, indecency and disrespect...who will?

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White congregation bans black couple from marrying at church: Report

Published on Saturday July 28, 2012

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The Associated Press

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JACKSON, MISS.—A Mississippi couple says the church where they planned to get married turned them away because they are black.

Charles and Te’Andrea Wilson say they had set the date and mailed invitations, but the day before their wedding they say they got bad news from the pastor of predominantly white First Baptist Church of Crystal Springs: Some members of the church complained about the black couple having a wedding there.
The Wilsons, who live in nearby Jackson, said they attend the church regularly although they are not members.
Pastor Stan Weatherford told WLBT TV he was surprised when a small number of church members opposed holding the wedding at the church.
“This had never been done before here, so it was setting a new precedent, and there are those who reacted to that because of that,” said Weatherford.
Weatherford performed the July 21 ceremony at another church.
“I didn’t want to have a controversy within the church, and I didn’t want a controversy to affect the wedding of Charles and Te’Andrea. I wanted to make sure their wedding day was a special day,” said Weatherford.
WLBT reported that church officials now say they welcome any race. They plan to hold internal meetings on how to move forward.
Church member Casey Kitchens said she and other members of the congregation are outraged by the church’s refusal to marry a black couple, a decision she says most of the congregation knew nothing about.
“This is a small, small group of people who made a terrible decision,” Kitchens told The Clarion-Ledger. “I’m just ashamed right now that my church would do that. I can’t fathom why. How unfair. How unjust. It’s just wrong.”
“I blame the First Baptist Church of Crystal Springs, I blame those members who knew and call themselves Christians and didn’t stand up,” said Charles Wilson.
Wilson told the newspaper that he understands Weatherford was caught in a difficult position and he still likes the pastor, but he also thinks the pastor should have stood up to the members who didn’t want the couple to marry in the church.
“It’s not reflective of the spirit of the Lord and Mississippi Baptists,” the Mississippi Baptist Convention executive director, the Rev. Jim Futral, said. “It’s just a step backward. . . . It’s a sad thing.”

Keep It Simple...

cappuccino and reading Nina Wise's "A Big New Free Happy Unusual Life" at Mr. Beans Cafe - July 26, 2012

Life can be so complex and it can become complicated and stress filled.  We have the ability to multi-task and overload and take on more than we can possibly handle   The more stimuli we are surrounded by, the more we seek, as if our brains have become hardwired to accept and expect more, and more and more.

From my perspective, all this does is create malaise and illness.  The overload and constant stimuli put our body's natural rhythm at risk.  We produce more adrenaline and that is NOT ever good for the body.  It has to have somewhere to go and that unncessary adrenaline creates havoc. Instead of slowing down we find ways to cope to keep going or to relax that little bit so that we can pick up steam and carry forward -- alcohol, pills, instant energy drinks, caffeine.  Excess of anything can lead to depression, body malfunction, disease...I believe that list is extensive.  I'm not a medical professional.  But I know what has happened within my own body when I have pushed it to the highest levels of "I can do this, I can do more, I can do this too..."  Sooner or later there is a crash and burn.

After cancer (everything with me points to cancer at every turn...because it WAS a turning point for me) I knew that life needed to be "simple".  I needed to focus on only the things that mattered and the things that I could do and more importantly the things that I wanted to do.  There are still times when I feel myself being pulled to "more" to doing one more thing or reading one more page (I did that last night as a matter of fact, read a book in one sitting..it was really good -- for the readers in the group it was "Gathering of Waters" by Bernice L. McFadden...using the murder of Emmett Till in 1955 Mississippi as the main thread...252 pages of awesome -- but I digress...).  I'll sign up for one more course and because there are so many on my plate I don't give many of them my full attention.  And then I remind myself to "stop".  I remind myself to pay attention and ask myself what is it that I really expect to gain from this...from what the teacher has to offer and what I as a "student" expect to come away with.  When I decided to do the Reiki course I knew in my heart that it was "right".  Two other courses have come through my in-box this week.  I read them over, thought "maybe" and then after further thought deleted them from my in-box.  Right here, right now, this is all I want.

I am being drawn to plain colours and simple lines.  I am drawn to cream and white and grey and sandy shades of brown.  And shades in-between.  I like sage and soft muted green.  I'm following my instinct.  It feels "right".

For the month of August I will once again be participating in "August Break" which Susannah Conway puts together with links for everyone who participates to find each other.  Simple.  Photography.  A few words.  Or none at all.  Being present in the moment each day and deciding what expresses who I am in that moment through the lens of a camera.  Feeling no obligation to blog or to use my camera, unless I absolutely feel the need.  It's kind of fierce being pared down and simple.

Reflections After the Rain...

August 2011 - rain pelting on the driveway

In the early hours of this morning I truly thought that the end was here.  A lightning strike that lit up the sky and thunder to accompany it that sounded like the apocalypse.  Were I Chicken Little (I loved that book!) I seriously would have believed that the sky was falling!   I went to sleep with the window open listening to the sound of rain falling.  It is a sound that I find soothing and refreshing and one that we haven't heard for some time.  The earth was parched and needed quenching.  To be wakened with a start, jumping up out of bed and feeling the house shake was terrifying. Thunderous it was!  And I like the sound of thunder and the flash of lightening.  But not last night's version.  A huge reminder that nature can be violent.

It's still raining off and on and this morning and is meant to throughout the day with the possibility of more thunderstorms to come.  I was commenting to a friend last night that I prefer listening to the rain in the dark where I cannot see it but can only hear it's music and it's beauty.  I now know that I much prefer to have my thunder and lightning where I can see them...and prepare!

So today will be a day of reflection and not needing to be outdoors.  The rain has cleared the air both outside and within my "self" and I always feel that ease when the weather has changed and lifted the oppressive heat.

perfumerie jar purchased in Bay City, Michigan - July 2012.  Filled with my own home grown lavender

I'm thinking about energy this morning.  I am now a Level I Reiki Practioner having had my 15 minute attunement last night with Jodi LeBrun.  It was a calming, restorative session and according to Jodi, she could feel the energy waves coming from me.  I'm eager to go through my manual and begin practicing the hand movements and continuing this journey.

Energy seems to guide my life...I believe it guides everyone.  Why do we make the choices we do or gravitate towards some people and not others?  Why did my hand land on this lovely little jar that is 3 1/2" high?  Oh true, I loved the shape and I loved the lid.  But my hand reached out to it before my eyes had properly taken it in.  I don't know who owned this jar, who touched it, held it, used whatever was inside.  But my energy flowed to where it was, higher on a shelf than I could reach.  I needed to manoeuvre my way inside the booth and stretch to reach it.  So often I don't bother when something is out of my immediate reach...but I did with this.  And then I put it back!  I looked at the price tag and decided that it was a little more than I wanted to pay.  But I didn't stop thinking about it as I walked through the rest of the store.  As I reached the cash register with a small plate in my hand, I asked the proprietor to wait one moment and I hurried back to the bottle, picked it up with ease and no manoeuvring and made sure that it came home with me.

Notice the energy around you.  Do you act on what you feel?

Healing Hands...

I had an inexplicable need for a label, something to be able "call" myself for how I feel and what I feel empowered and capable of doing.  I wanted something to be able to call this gift that I know I have been given.  The word that came to me through lightness and steam (I was after all asking this in the shower....) was "healer".  I heard that word and then said it to myself in a sentence, "I am a healer."  It felt "right" and it fit and there was a sense of belonging and acknowledgement.  That I was a helper and that I was born to help others I had known for some time and yet it seemed that it was "more" than helping.  I wanted to do more than help.  I wanted to believe that I could heal. 

There are different ways to heal.  Someone who has studied medicines whether traditional or natural has the ability to "heal" in one way which deals primarily with the physical body.  There are other ways to heal the soul, the spirit and the mind and all of these are a necessary complement to physical healing.   I am a firm believer that mind and body are connected in more than the basic ways.  There is a very deep connection between "who" we are and "what" we are.

When I was undergoing treatment for breast cancer six years ago, I went with traditional methods of medicine.  Chemotherapy to poison my body and kill the cells that had turned on me and betrayed my body.  I knew it was poison and I knew that there would be side effects and after effects but it is what I believed in and what I wanted.  I wanted an army to battle with me and for me. Chemotherapy was my main charge through the middle.  I also had radiation therapy because one lymph node had been shown to be affected.  Bring it on.  Radiation was the right flank.  No army can fight with only a middle thrust and a right flank.  What happens on the left?

On the left flank I had complementary treatments.  I believed in and used visualization.  I used a holistic approach to healing that was offered through the hospital and the local cancer centre.  I like that it is called "holistic" -- I pronounce it and always talk about it as my "whole - istic" treatment.  It gave me the sense that I was treating my "whole" body and my "whole" self.  Relaxation, meditation, a therapy like Reiki with the hands moving around the body but it was simply for relaxation.  It felt wonderful.

I have been interested in Reiki  (pronounced Ray Key) for some time and every now and then the idea to learn how to do this and become a practitioner has floated through my consciousness.  I believe that things will happen for you in their time, when you are most ready to accept and embrace.  My experience on Saturday night meeting Susannah Conway was the first stepping stone.  Also present that evening was Jodi LeBrun.  Jodi and I had never met but at least 4 times throughout the evening my friends mentioned Jodi's name.  Kath asked me if I knew her.  I did not.  When Jodi was leaving that night, we still had not met, but someone made the comment "oh Jodi's leaving" and I said "oh but I haven't met Jodi yet."

Yet.  How often do we use that word?  Yesterday I was reading through status posts on facebook and I came across Jodi "yet again".  I went to her facebook page and saw that Jodi is a Reiki practitioner and she offers a course on how to become a Reiki practitioner and the course begins this weekend.  Stop.  Full stop went my brain.  When it clicked into gear again I went straight to Jodi's blog and then to the section about the course and without pause clicked the "buy now" button. 

A new journey is beginning.  One that I am eager to embrace and to experience.  Once again, I've been able to "find the fierce".

Lifting Hearts...

I've learned of so much death recently.  Not just in the news, about people I don't know, who have never been part of my world, but because of inexplicable factors, I have come to know -- names that never would have been known to me if not for the tragic way in which their lives have ended...and their families and friends whose lives have been shattered in ways they never expected.  And those people will go on -- perhaps not as they once thought they would, simply as best they can.

I've learned in one day of deaths closer to home.  Of people I knew, or knew of through friends; a mother-in-law, a cousin, and people that I have learned about from a sister who shared their lives with me.  And I'm grateful to have been given the privilege of knowing these people in whatever capacity they have come into my world.  More picking up of the pieces by those left behind.

Sometimes there are no words to express how we feel,  or to comfort and to empathize.  Sometimes all we can do is say a prayer for those souls, to wish their souls peace and to offer comfort to those who have been left behind...for now...until they meet again.

Meeting Susannah Conway...

A few weeks ago I mentioned that I had read Susannah Conway's book "this i know" and that I was going to be attending a "meet and greet" and author reading with her and a few other women that I know, and a few other women that I did not know.  

The event was this past Saturday evening and what an incredible evening it was.  

The afternoon began with Gillian picking me up and the two of us heading to Danforth Avenue to stroll for a bit and then we found our way to the restaurant where we had made reservations and in order to meet up with Graciel, Kath and Margie.

After our delicious Italian meal, we strolled down the street to the cafe where the event was being held and had the pleasure of standing outside for some time chatting with Susannah, just enjoying the late day sunshine and the muggy air before it was time to settle in with some tea, or some chai and be surrounded by women bonding over similar issues of hurt, grief, betrayal, lack of trust, emotional life issues, and then finding the ways and the means to pick up the pieces of whatever has been broken and creating a new life out of what Susannah refers to as "unraveling".  Unraveling is the title of her blog and her e-course, but it encompasses so much more than just "falling to pieces" -- there are layers and it is within those layers that we discover who we truly are.

I'm not sure that I can adequately put into words what this few hours meant to me.  I had been upset the night before by a conversation I had that was nothing hurtful in itself, but the old memories and the old feelings that it brought to the surface were ugly.  They made me feel sad and slightly dented and they were feelings and emotions that I thought I had dealt with and dealt with well.  It appears that this was not the case, therefore, I went out on Saturday with a bit of trepidation and not knowing how I would feel when the evening was over.

If I tell you that I felt "bathed" in love and light that is true.  If I tell you that I discovered a soul connection to someone else and that those "vibes" I was feeling as I sat across from Susannah and listened to her read a few chapters from her book and then answer questions and engage in dialogue, calmed me and hugged that hurt part of my tender soul, that is true.

The few minutes that we each had one on one with Susannah as she autographed our books were precious and entirely too short...no one wanted to take more than their share of her time and make the others wait.  I did manage to let her know how much her words, her caring and her soul have inspired me and how appreciative and grateful I was to have those few minutes.

I don't idolize this woman and I haven't put her on a pedestal.  I recognize that Susannah is another woman who has had issues and heartbreak, who has suffered with grief but who has also found much joy in the world around her.  But I am inspired by the way she has chosen to live her life -- with the fears and uncertainties and using language that we can all relate to.  The laughter goes a very long way as well.

If you have never read Susannah's blog you can find it here.  The book is well worth reading if only to feel connected to someone else who has experienced life...and lived to the tell the tale.

Being Yourself...Inside and Out...

Image posted on facebook on the Hippie Peace Freaks page

My mother always told me this.  I've told my children this.  I'll bet your  mother told you this as well and hopefully you've passed this on to others.

I had a lovely reminder message today courtesy of my beautiful friend LuLu.  She's bald right now and she's been bald in the past.  In the past it was due to chemotherapy; this time it's a different issue that has caused her to lose her hair.  LuLu wears gorgeous wigs in awesome shades (I am partial to the candy floss shade myself) and this emphasizes her style in many ways.  LuLu loves ghouls and spooky things and she makes incredibly beautiful jewelry.  Her eyes are large and blue and her soul reminds me of a well...it's deep and bottomless and constantly full.  Today LuLu posted some photos of herself sans wig.  It's been hot where she lives (as it has in many places in North America) and yesterday she ventured out for a cold drink and because the temperature was in triple digits, LuLu went on her way without a wig.  Just makeup, her beaming smile and that bright happy soul shining through her eyes.

I was filled with envy...only the good kind of envy.  I was envious and inspired by LuLu's courage.  To simply "be" who she is.  To accept it and to be comfortable enough in her own skin to say "this is who I am and I like it" and not worry or care what other people think.  To not be riddled with shame or fear of ridicule. 

Would some people point or look or worse, stare?  Absolutely.  I'm sure some would and I'm sure that some did.  Which speaks to who those people are.  Some people will have made automatic assumptions about LuLu and some might even have made inaccurate judgements.  It's what people do.  It's what so many people have been "conditioned" to do.  If you don't have a good sense of "self" then you are always looking at others to make sure that you are "okay" or "better".  Someone like LuLu who doesn't concern herself with what others think isn't going to be the type of person who points or comments or stares.  She gets it.

Years ago when I had chemo, I used to wear a wig or a bandanna to my treatments.  It just became habit.  Everyone else in the suite was doing the same thing.  Maybe we didn't want to shock anyone else or heaven forbid, bring cancer into the open.  With a group of bald heads sitting in a circle being fed poison, it's going to be mighty obvious that cancer is afoot!  But yet we covered it up as best we could.  Maybe more for ourselves than others.

One day it was extremely hot in the room.  Something was wrong with the heating system and the vents were pouring out heat...and our bodies were cold from the drugs.  All that poison churning in your veins does make the body cold.  I couldn't stand the heat and finally peeled my wig off my head and threw it down at my feet.  The nurses all began to clap and say "finally".  I thought they were being funny ... especially when the other patients started to laugh.  But then I got it.  They were waiting for someone to have the courage to say "this is me, this is what's happening to me right now in this moment and it's okay."  They were waiting for someone to be fierce enough to "own" the situation and show the others -- really, there is nothing to be ashamed of.  When I "got" it, I started to laugh and said "now THAT feels so much better."  And it did.  I only wish I'd been fierce enough to walk around in public that way.  I wasn't as enlightened then and I didn't know people like LuLu who know that who we are inside far outweighs what we see on the outside.

Whatever you are, whatever you "have", wherever you are in life...be fierce about it.  Remember that an oyster doesn't look like much on the outside...it's the pearl inside that holds all the true value.

Keeping Score...

Many years ago, in my more naive incarnation, I said things like "this isn't fair" and "why am I having to go through more?"  I thought that life came equipped with a score card and we only had to fill in one square on each line and then we were "done".  A lovely way to look at the world even if it was a bit skewed.  I'd look around me and compare myself to others.  I'd wonder why this person had had so little happen to them but I had had to go through so much.

There is no such thing as "fair" when talking about life.  Life just "is".  It's not about fair vs. unfair.  It just "is".

And there is no score card.  Sadly.  Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could just put a pin in each unpleasant experience of our journey on a cardboard chart and then say "done".  "That's it for me, those are all the unhappy experiences I must go through."?

It wasn't really until I was in my 40s that I realized every person has their share of grief and hardship.  Some endure more than others.  And I don't know why that is and more importantly I now know that I don't "need" to know that.  I learned that some people who haven't had a lot of negative, difficult experiences aren't necessarily any more blessed than I am.

I had a childhood that was difficult at times and I coped with much; I lost a beloved grandfather at an early age; I lost 2 dogs because we had to move and pets were not allowed; my parents divorced; I lost two babies, one at 4 months, one at one month; I had endometriosis; I had a blood disorder called thrombocytopenia that was quite devastating but manageable because of good medical care and the removal of my spleen; my mother died at a young age; my sister died at an even younger age.  I seriously thought that my score card was full....there couldn't be any more room. Hadn't I endured enough?  But there was more.  There was still space for breast cancer.

And it hit me then...it's pointless and useless to think that after a bucketful of grief that you won't be given more.  You might be.  There might even be more challenges, more grief ahead for me.  I'm sure there will be.

I learned that you accept what comes your way and you work through it.  And I know that it isn't always easy and there are days when getting out of bed is a huge task, but I also know that there are days when getting out of bed is the best feeling in the world.  I learned that you can roll over, curl up and quit or you can be fierce, grab those big girl panties and get on with it (even if the elastic snaps!).  I learned that you find the message and you learn the lesson from the experience and you say "I can do this", even when you feel at the deepest depths that you can't.

I learned that maybe having such a full score card means I've experienced some lessons that have given me more than I could ever have dreamed of.  But the most important thing I've realized is that the blessings and the wonderful things that have happened in my life far outweigh the negative experiences and if we had score cards for those I'd need a filing cabinet to keep them in.

Fierce Can Be Funny...

Over the last few days I've been rather intense in sharing my stories and explaining what it means to me to be fierce in this world.  What it means to be fierce as a person.  

Many times over the last few years I've used the expression "pulling up my big girl panties" and I think many of you have done this as well.  It's evocative of girding yourself for battle...and it needn't be a Battle with a capital "B"...it can simply be steeling yourself to doing something that you would rather not do but you know must be done.  Sometimes it's as mundane as cleaning the toilet! (I mean, hello???  Who looks forward to doing THAT??).

What is important to remember and what I feel is absolutely vital to being fierce is having and maintaining a sense of humour.  Laughter is necessary, never  mind that it's good for the soul, laughing releases positive endorphins that make you feel good.  Some of the best laughter is being able to laugh at yourself...not feeling less if others are laughing about something you've done and recognizing that they don't have to be laughing "at" you but can be laughing "with" you.  

So on that note, with the weekend ahead, I leave you with some "fierce" humour that I found on facebook the other day....

found on facebook -- no provenance listed other than what is marked on the bottom of the image

Rules for Being Human...

This arrived in my email yesterday from The Daily Love and it's well worth sharing.  

This is being fierce.

 Top Ten Rules for Being Human

Rule One - You will receive a body. Whether you love it or hate it, it's yours for life, so accept it. What counts is what's inside.

Rule Two - You will be presented with lessons. Life is a constant learning experience, which every day provides opportunities for you to learn more. These lessons are specific to you, and learning them 'is the key to discovering and fulfilling the meaning and relevance of your own life'.

Rule Three - There are no mistakes, only lessons. Your development towards wisdom is a process of experimentation, trial and error, so it's inevitable things will not always go to plan or turn out how you'd want. Compassion is the remedy for harsh judgment - of ourselves and others. Forgiveness is not only divine - it's also 'the act of erasing an emotional debt'. Behaving ethically, with integrity, and with humour - especially the ability to laugh at yourself and your own mishaps - are central to the perspective that 'mistakes' are simply lessons we must learn.

Rule Four - The lesson is repeated until learned. Lessons repeat until learned. What manifest as problems and challenges, irritations and frustrations are more lessons - they will repeat until you see them as such and learn from them. Your own awareness and your ability to change are requisites of executing this rule. Also fundamental is the acceptance that you are not a victim of fate or circumstance - 'causality' must be acknowledged; that is to say: things happen to you because of how you are and what you do. To blame anyone or anything else for your misfortunes is an escape and a denial; you yourself are responsible for you, and what happens to you. Patience is required - change doesn't happen overnight, so give change time to happen.

Rule Five - Learning does not end. While you are alive there are always lessons to be learned. Surrender to the 'rhythm of life', don't struggle against it. Commit to the process of constant learning and change - be humble enough to always acknowledge your own weaknesses, and be flexible enough to adapt from what you may be accustomed to, because rigidity will deny you the freedom of new possibilities.

Rule Six - "There" is no better than "here". The other side of the hill may be greener than your own, but being there is not the key to endless happiness. Be grateful for and enjoy what you have, and where you are on your journey. Appreciate the abundance of what's good in your life, rather than measure and amass things that do not actually lead to happiness. Living in the present helps you attain peace.

Rule Seven - Others are only mirrors of you. You love or hate something about another person according to what love or hate about yourself. Be tolerant; accept others as they are, and strive for clarity of self-awareness; strive to truly understand and have an objective perception of your own self, your thoughts and feelings. Negative experiences are opportunities to heal the wounds that you carry. Support others, and by doing so you support yourself. Where you are unable to support others it is a sign that you are not adequately attending to your own needs.

Rule Eight - What you make of your life is up to you. You have all the tools and resources you need. What you do with them is up to you. Take responsibility for yourself. Learn to let go when you cannot change things. Don't get angry about things - bitter memories clutter your mind. Courage resides in all of us - use it when you need to do what's right for you. We all possess a strong natural power and adventurous spirit, which you should draw on to embrace what lies ahead.

Rule Nine - Your answers lie inside of you. Trust your instincts and your innermost feelings, whether you hear them as a little voice or a flash of inspiration. Listen to feelings as well as sounds. Look, listen, and trust. Draw on your natural inspiration.

Rule Ten - You will forget all this at birth. We are all born with all of these capabilities - our early experiences lead us into a physical world, away from our spiritual selves, so that we become doubtful, cynical and lacking belief and confidence. The ten Rules are not commandments, they are universal truths that apply to us all. When you lose your way, call upon them. Have faith in the strength of your spirit. Aspire to be wise - wisdom the ultimate path of your life, and it knows no limits other than those you impose on yourself.

- Cherie Carter-Scott. Scott is an author, life coach, and motivational speaker offers consulting and coaching on all aspects of change management.

Defining Fierce...

Image found on facebook without provenance

Fierce:  Extremely intense or ardent

There is a new look and a new direction here on this journal of mine.  This journal has been through quite a few transformations over the past year, but this time, I have truly discovered my real, my true, my one gifted voice.

Well being is so vital to our every day existence.  I have battled and struggled and experienced life...certainly not much different, worse or better than many others.   But I feel the need and the calling to share what I've experienced and how I've experienced it with the hope that others will see themselves and find the fierce within.

I dream of others discovering their own voices, claiming their sense of "self" and being able to live with their stories.  To be able to tell their stories whether just to themselves or to share them with others.  Being fierce is a voyage of self discovery.

Being fierce isn't about being violent.  It isn't about destructive behaviour.  It isn't about damaging or hurting others.

My fierce is about strength and courage. It is about determination and working through adversity.  It is about taking your voice and being heard.  It is claiming a place in life through hard work, adversity and determination.  It is doing so with respect and grace.

And as Maya Angelou says

When you know better...you do better.

Finding My Fierce...

  

(what follows is part of my story, my life...part of my journey to who I am today and how I got here)

His name was Harry.  He worked with my father; I believe he was his immediate boss.  We met his wife and his children a few times at their home. 

Harry was transparent.  I never liked him, never felt comfortable around him and I could see him for who he was.  I did my best to keep my distance.  Harry was a negative influence on my father and my father was someone who needed positive influences to keep him in balance.  They were both controlling, manipulative men and their personalities fed off one another.  It was "like finding like".  As their "friendship" grew they decided to go into business together.   Not surprisingly they weren't able to make a go of it.

Harry gradually became part of my parents’ social group.  Every Friday after work a number of my mother's colleagues would gather at our home for pizza and drinks (mostly drinks).  My sister and I were “banished” to the rec room in the basement.  Occasionally we were allowed to say hello or be brought out by our father to perform or to be “admired”.  At ages 12, 13 and 14 I was repulsed.  I’d have been much happier to be left out of that.  I saw too much and heard too much and whether the adults realized it or not, I was at that vulnerable age where those impressions were lasting.

Ultimately Harry left his wife and family and he began to date some of my mother's single colleagues .  One of them in particular really thought that he cared for her.  I could have told her otherwise.  But no one asked me.  My mother tried to tell her.  And then Harry met Jennie, a new colleague of my mother's who was originally from Australia.  I don’t know what it was about her that attracted him.  She wasn’t a beauty to rival that of the other women.  She was really rather plain.  Perhaps it was her accent.  They dated briefly and they married quickly and it deeply hurt the woman who thought he loved her.  I can’t imagine that relations at work were too terribly sweet either.

Soon after that my father and mother separated.  Oh it was for the best, it was good and it was the most significant change in our lives.  I actually began to breathe and live after he left.  That doesn’t mean that I was sanguine about it or that it didn’t hurt.  It did.  It was such a confusing time and it was shattering the security that I knew.  Even if it wasn’t the best or the healthiest environment, it was my home, my family being fractured.  I was on the cusp of leaving childhood and entering adolescence.  There are hormones and emotions and growth and so many things to handle all at once.  A splintered family was another coal to heap on the fire.  Nothing unusual in a splintered family.  They happen.

I looked to lay blame for a time.  Grief is like that.  Some of the blame was obvious and it was blame appropriately laid.  Some of it was my way of striking out.

For all the time that Harry was part of our world (perhaps 3 years) I was forced to be polite.  To be nice to this man.  A man I didn’t like and didn’t respect.  If I hadn't been, I would have suffered the consequences at my father's hand.  I remember one day, in front of their group, Harry asked me why I wore my hair long.  At that time, all girls my age wore their hair long and straight.  Who asks a 14 year old a question like that?  My reply was cheeky; I asked him why he wore his hair the way he did.  Much laughter ensued.  I looked around at the other adults to see if anyone would realize what was at play here and come to my defense but no one did.  He told me I was like my mother.  He didn't intend it as a compliment.

Harry was often intentionally rude to my mother.   My father was also rude and disrespectful towards my mother and had been for years.  He was verbally and emotionally abusive so I was used to it coming from him.  But not from a guest in our home.  The first time I heard Harry call my mother “super mouth” because she spoke up and spoke back I was livid.  Did my father say anything?  No of course not.  He laughed along with everyone else.  I knew that this "nick name" hurt my mother deeply.  But I remembered how hearing that made me feel and never forgot.  It was as if it had been burned into my brain.

Not long after my father left, Harry and Jennie made a visit to our house.  We were in the process of getting ready to move after the house was sold.  They came to collect something for my father and their presence was most unwelcome.  I remember them expressing their regrets that things had ended the way they had.  I didn’t believe they were sincere and I wondered why they hadn’t realized they were unwelcome.  When I saw them all my feelings towards them came to the surface and began to bubble.  I looked at them and saw them as the reason for everything that had happened. 

My parents had purchased a new dining room suite a few months before the separation.  This pair began to comment on how lovely the set was in order to make conversation and I suddenly discovered my "fierce".  Out of my mouth came the words “Too bad we never really had a chance to use it.”  And then they knew.  Probably by the look on my face and the tone of my voice more than my words.  You could read the surprise on their faces.

My mother stood silently as I began to speak.  I told them they were unwelcome.  I told them that they had nothing to say that we wanted to hear.  I told them that we didn’t care about their regrets.   I told Harry that he was a bully.  I gave it to him with both barrels for calling my mother “super mouth” and being disrespectful towards her.  He might have thought he was being funny but in fact he was cruel and to do that in front of her children was unacceptable.  I told Jennie that she had “settled”.  That as a woman of maturing years (she was likely 25-30!) that she had just taken the first man who had asked her to marry him because she was desperate.  But did she really know him and what he was like?  I doubted that she did.  I told her she could have done so much better.

And then I asked them to leave the house.  It's more likely that I told them to get out, but it sounds so much more civilized if I say I asked them to leave.  They said nothing and they left.

My mother cried then.  I thought that maybe I had gone too far and that I had been too rude and I apologized for behaving badly.  She wasn’t crying because I had been forthright with them.  She cried because I came to her defense and stood up for her and stood up to them.  She cried because I did what she had been unable to do.  She cried because I had been put in a position of needing to do that.  She cried because she loved me.

I cried because I hadn’t stood up to him and defended her the very first time I heard him say those ugly, hurtful, ignorant words.

The Power of Words...

Words contain so much power.  They have the ability to inspire, heal, comfort, praise, encourage, express emotions.  Words are also capable of hurting, wounding, diminishing, crippling, discouraging, eroding, abusing, silencing.

I learned about words from a very young age.  I heard many of the negative variety.  There were positive words mixed in but the negative words were LOUDER, more finely honed and delivered with an accurate thrust and precision.  The target was always hit.  I wasn't always the target mind you.  Still.  Hearing those words hurled with machine gun staccato at another, someone that I loved, those words hurt me as much as the intended victim.

I used my share of negative words.  I remember being 15 and being extremely proud of myself for some witty come backs.  Interestingly I never spoke negatively towards my mother, friends or other authority figures in my life.  I am ashamed to say that at times, some of those words were directed at my younger sister.  Never doubt it when "experts" tell you that what we learn in our homes is replicated.  You would have expected two sisters to be allies in family war.  Actually, that's not being fair to either one of us.  Most of the time we were allies and most of the time I protected my sister as much as she protected me.  But war is hell and sometimes there are casualties.  My arsenal was saved for those adults in my life who were meant to know better, who were meant to behave as adults (in my young mind, everyone was meant to know their place and the rules...it's all part of structure...without it you have chaos and anarchy...my young mind hadn't yet grasped the fact that some adults never grow up).

I knew how to wound.  I'd learned from an expert.  I spoke up at a time in my life when I was meant to be invisible.  I was raised to believe that children were seen and not heard.  Passed on from my father's skewed upbringing no doubt.  My mother never minded if we talked or shared our thoughts or opinions.  She was raised in a different atmosphere.  But remember, I mentioned LOUD and that some words and voices carry stronger than others.  They can beat you down like buckets of heavy rain on tender buds.

Looking back, I'm not so proud of the things I said.  And I only did this with 3 people.  My father's girlfriend.  My father's "best friend" (who even I knew at the tender age of 13-15 was NOT a friend at all...he was someone I steered clear of as much as was possible).  My father's "best friend's" new wife...who had been part of my parent's social network through the school where my mother worked.  They were "the bad guys" and I gathered my ammunition and let fly when the opportunity arose.  I only had one session with each of them in the span of one year.  I'm certain I left a lasting impression.  No, that's not vanity talking.  That's reality.  I'm actually very good with letting words fly when I'm pushed to the final point and being forced to be vocal.

Do I regret that I spoke up?  Not at all.  It needed to be done by the only one in my family who had the strength to do so.  I spoke only the truth.  I didn't prevaricate or lash out with untruths and ugliness.  It may well have been ugly but then the situation itself was ugly.  Sometimes adults need to hear their truths and face the consequences of their actions.

What I know today is that I had strength, courage and spirit all those years ago.  It's little wonder that strength and spirit carried me forward and helped me to fight the battles that lay ahead in my future.  When I was fighting breast cancer, I called myself David.  Cancer was my Goliath.  I couldn't use my weaponry of choice for breast cancer.  It's impervious to words.  But all that strength and determination to survive that I developed throughout my childhood was ready when the call to arms was raised.

I am all about words.  I've been told this on many occasions by family and friends.  I always try to choose my words carefully because I know the difference between inspiring and wounding.  When I've faltered and hurt someone whether intentionally or by accident because I wasn't careful enough, I've regretted it and made sure to say so.  Those 3 I hurt when I was younger?  No regrets. 

I chose my words carefully when I penned my final thoughts to my father at the age of 17.  I spoke with the honesty and truth that I had buried and not allowed myself to think, let alone speak.  It was from my heart.  Did it hurt him?  Oh apparently very much.  I was told that he carried that letter with him always.  It made me realize that he was not the adult.  I was.  He didn't like the truth and he didn't like it in black and white where he could read it again and again.  I was okay with it then.  I am still okay with it today.  It was my truth.  It was his truth.  And sadly, there were parts that I left out but which I wish in retrospect I'd spoken.  He tried to reconcile a few times.  I wasn't interested.  It was done.  We give birth to our children but the love is not conditional...we give of it freely.  But love can die and be killed.  I learned that.  So did he.  He died a few months after my sister.  I wished that he had gone first.  But he knew that she had gone before him and that was enough.  I don't regret that we never spoke again.  He was the master of his game.  He set the board and played the pieces.  He didn't know that he gave birth to the master who would beat him at his own game.

Sunny Summer Sunday...

Enjoying the beauty on this sunny summer Sunday.

Dance...

journal page...December 16, 2007

untouched photograph taken July 1, 2012  Bokeh created by the sprinkler

Dance

My feet dance to the rhythm of the music.  With each note, each beat they lift and twirl me through the air.

My fingers dance across the keyboard composing the words that fill my head and spill through my consciousness.

My eyes dance with humour, with laughter, with glee and with wonder as they light upon the beauty of the world.

My heart dances with every breath and every beat that echoes throughout my body.  It dances with love.

My soul dances towards the light.

Sherry Smyth

December 2007

Doom and Deep Regret...

I was reading through some old journals today and came across this, which I wrote in 2008.

I was quite taken aback.  I know why I wrote it.  I know what it's about. 

It still has the same power over me four years later.

This I What I Know...

I know that it is hot.  Another hot, sticky day in southern Ontario, not much different than many other parts of North America.  Yes, it's July and July is hot, but not like this.  The humidex is high which makes it feel, as of 11 a.m., about 33 degrees celcius (which is almost 92F), and it is meant to get hotter as the day wears on.  And likely to stay this way into the weekend. 

With that in mind, I hurried my morning routine a little, and left the house early to head to my favourite cafe to have a cappuccino while life was still on the quiet side.  And it was lovely.  As you can see.

I brought a book to read.  Actually I've already read "this i know" by Susannah Conway and loved it.  This morning I was going over some favourite parts, re-reading the "Reflections" at the end of each chapter and thinking.  I was pondering the questions and listening to parts of myself that I've tended to quiet in the past because I hadn't the time or the inclination to listen and respond.  I can be like that with myself.  I believe that we are all capable of this and certainly put those niggling thoughts that aren't pretty or require us to really be present on the back burner or lock them in a drawer where we don't have to be "bothered" with them.  But now and then they knock and knock and knock until you answer. 

I know that a long time ago (maybe not that many years ago after all), I would have been afraid to hear those knocks and listen to those voices.  But life changed and I changed and I no longer find myself turning my head.  Sometimes the "not so pretty" parts of our lives are the most telling and the most informative.

I'll have the pleasure of meeting Susannah later this month when she is in Toronto as part of her book tour at a meet and greet hosted by Jamie Ridler and others.  I'll also have the pleasure of meeting up with some friends I don't see often, two of whom I've only met and spent time with once (Graciel and Kath), and one that I have met a few times (Gillian).  What's delightful about this is that we are coming together for the same purpose, for a shared experience.  Dinner before the "meet and greet" will give us a chance to reacquaint ourselves with one another and Susannah's book.  And all this, brought to us through the world of blogging.  What a gift!

As for Susannah's book, "this i know", do read it.  Not only well written and filled with many of Susannah's Polaroid photographs, it speaks to everyone.  It isn't just about grief and coping and moving forward.  It's about life and the little girl that we have all at one time been.  It's about allowing the little girl to speak and be heard and finding our way forward in our adult lives.  About change and accepting the change, even though there are times when we feel we simply might not be able to.

In the Garden...

I spend a lot of time photographing the flowers in our garden.  

I love standing at different angles, crouching down for a different view and sometimes sitting on the ground, looking up to see what the flowers look like that from spot.

Too much of the time I forget that many of these blooms would look beautiful inside, gracing a table or placed in an unexpected spot.

While weeding and pruning the garden on the weekend, I brought in a bunch of these snowball hydrangea and plopped them in mason jars.  

If the rain holds off today I just might go out there and cut myself a colourful bouquet from all that is blooming at the moment.

I believe that beauty deserves to be enjoyed as much, and as often as possible.

What Do You See?

These are my two purchases from my day trip of antiquing and looking for treasures.  

The quilt was a nice buy for $24.  It's child size or can be used as a lap quilt.  I love the colours and the patterns in the fabrics.

As you'll realize, I did not buy the plate in two pieces.  I did buy it in one piece.

I paid $5 for the plate which I liked very much.  It's the same pattern as a charger I bought in Niagara-on-the-Lake and I thought they would be a nice complement to one another.

When the woman at the antique store was packaging everything she said she would put the plate, wrapped in paper, between the folds of the quilt for safe keeping in travel.  I said that was fine.

And it was fine. Until we arrived home.  It had been a very hot and sticky day.  And it was later in the afternoon when we arrived home.

By the time I was taking things out of the bag I had forgotten that the plate was tucked into the folds of the quilt and when I took the quilt out of the bag and began to open it...the photograph shows the evidence.

Was I disappointed?  Yes.  But.

It was a $5 purchase.  

It is never a good idea to become too attached to "things".

Do you see this plate as being useless now?

Or do you see the possibilities that can be done with it ... the possibilities that the original break has opened the window to present?

O Canada...

This country, Canada is 145 years young today.  In the history of countries, it really isn't a very long time.

Before we were an independent Canada, a country of "our own", we were known as the Dominion of Canada...we were a Dominion of the British Empire.  Prior to that, "ownership" was fought between the British and the French.  And yes, the Americans tried to invade us and make us "theirs" in 1812.  We came out the victors.  If we would like to go even further back before the British and French fought for the rights to claim this land, it belonged to the Native Peoples.  Sadly there are some who are still arguing about the French/English issue.

This flag wasn't created and brought into being until February 1965.  Until that time, the flag of Canada was the Union Jack.

My maternal (on my mother's father's side) great grandparents were married in Nova Scotia in 1885.  My great grandfather was stationed there with the British army.  My great grandmother was born in Newfoundland and was working in Halifax, N.S. when they met.  They were married in Canada but never lived here after that.

I'm a second generation Canadian.  My grandparents all came over at different times -- one from Scotland in 1910, one from England in 1913, and two more from England (who later married but did not know one another before they met in Canada), 4 months apart in 1912.

I'm proud to live in "the truth north strong and free...."