Mything Mom

For the last year or so I cocooned myself away from many of my professional activities to be with my Mom who was quickly sliding into the quicksand of dementia. Partnering her through the twilight of her cognizance as she bravely faced the bewildering abyss before her was rich and meaningful. Countless breakfasts and bedtimes full of stories and reflections on loves, losses, triumphs, and regrets—all the threads that weave this mysterious tapestry of life. And although completely off the grid of time, mom had real presence and was an excellent listener; I could share my deepest secrets, garner advice, and know before good-bye our discussion would be long gone!

After a summer hospital marathon she passed away. Her decline was dramatic, and those last days

Prayer for Desire

Have known desire.
The pretty polite half pint paint by number fit neatly in a box not quite alive in the mind kind.

Translate: I have NO-ed desire.

Want to know DESIRE.
The no limits dance dreams outside the box inside a body alive because it really matters kind.

“There is no prayer like desire.” ~Tom Waits
AMEN!

Perfect Pie

“There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” Leonard Cohen

I have spent my whole life trying to make perfect pie. Perfect people pleasing pie packed with half-truths afraid the world wouldn’t love whole me. Paring imperfections in the compost, praying my sweet peaches under a good girl crust would buy the badge of belonging. Finally figuring out….

….there’s no such thing as perfect pie!

Yet, perfectionism pervades our world awash with unrealistic ideals prompting impossible expectations, often self-imposed, that cook up feelings of fear, failure, and unworthiness. And under the flawless shell a paralyzing hell holds hostage any hope of passion, possibility, and pleasure. Well-except for those precious people who have perfect pie down pat! Though to that I’ve been wondering where’s the fun and fabulous in flawless?!

As I begin to let go of phantom perfect pie I’ll be honest, oowey gooey doesn’t feel very graceful especially when the shame shadow in my head begins beating the “do it better drum”. And so I am grateful that recently in the dark of that hum a sweet voice woke me and whispered: “Go find your my in perfect pie.” Perfect thank you!

I know I’m not alone as I forge for the forgotten fruits passion, possibility, and pleasure, and I’m beginning to believe once baked, I just might find some joy in the juice that oozes through the perfect cracked Cohen crust. May we all find my in perfect pie!

Bliss

“You enter the forest at the darkest point, where there is no path.  Where there’s a way or path, it is someone else’s path; each human being is a unique phenomenon.  The idea is to find your own pathway to Bliss.”
Joseph Campbell

Feels like I have been hunting my whole life for that Arthurian forest. I have read volumes of victory stories shared by so-called soul wizards, well intentioned and often inspiring, but who’s maps leave me with a vague kind of vertigo. As I let go of the opiate of other’s answers, I find myself wondering about our pop-culture quick fixes that call compellingly to the already trod trail. Paths promising to quell the recalcitrant voices of the inner and outer critics with Peace, Presence and Bliss-NOW-and all for 30% off! However, I have come to believe these populated halls are hallow and can only echo the grail of wholeness.

Offering no map or magic carpet, Mr. Campbell simply “points”, as the great teachers do, to two fundamental truths:

1. We all know our own information best.
In looking for answers outside we give up inside authority and authenticity.

2. The “pathway” is forged, not followed.
The call to adventure must be answered alone to uncover the “unique phenomenon” of our Being, guided by the integrity of our internal GPS.

Personally I have learned the pain that pulses under the portrait of a life that tries to live the map of Paris in Bangkok–the emptiness that exists when the inner architecture no longer matches the outer manifestations. I repeat often these days this final quote I think Campbell would concur with. A reminder surely etched on the heart of every Knight and Knight-ess following the blessing of their Bliss in the timeless Arthurian forest that is our today.

“…the soul would much rather fail at its own life than succeed at someone else’s.”
David Whyte

Choosing Change

“In our instinctive attachments, our fear of change, and our wish for certainty and permanence, we may undercut the impermanence which is our greatest strength, our most fundamental identity. Without impermanence, there is not process. The nature of life is change. All hope is based on process”. Rachel Naomi Remen

I lived in a house wallpapered with permanence and furnished with false certainty, feeling safe–and fast asleep to my “process”. The hung pictures though pretty were pastime, and the growing cri du coeur calling me from the apathy of my attachments offered me two choices.

1. Hatch the egg of certainty and have the challenging duck of change.
2. Submit to the haunting hungry ghosts and become another sepia still-life on the wall.

A friend recently pointed out, the powerful paralyzing merry-go-round momentum of what already is seems practically irresistible to every ecosystem of existence, be it person, family or franchise. That it is so much easier to ride the wheel that already whirs round even if all it yields are illusions of living, and that usually change is chastised and chased away unless bottom is hit or the wheel breaks. And I’ve since pondered perhaps hitting bottom is a lucky break because change, bidden or not, changes that course forever, and often for the better.

Embedded in Rachel Remen’s words, I think, is the invitation to choose change. The life affirming change that beckons like a beacon from the centre of our being. The Truthful change tethered to “our greatest strength and fundamental identity”.

I am finding to live the “process” of impermanence requires a kind of radical faith, AND Rachel is right, I have now more hope than ever I hoped for by Choosing Change.

Four Ace Asalyn

Asalyn lived life holding Four Aces. She held them elegantly and played them eloquently.

Six months ago Asalyn folded her cards to Lou Gehrig’s disease. She played her last hand with incredible courage, gifting grace to all around her. And her spirit, in spite of a betraying body, shone brightly and more well than most suffering souls walking down the street.

Asalyn loved to sing and just days before her pilgrimage home I gave her my song—though it is I who gained the far greater gift. In our final visit, holding hands, smiling through the silence of her shining, Asalyn shared with me the secret to Four Ace living.

Live life with a light and full HEART
Spend love in SPADES
Dance desires without delay, today is the only DIAMOND
Welcome any and all to the CLUB

Clubs are also like clovers so lucky me to have loved and been loved by Asalyn. Thank you, wherever you are for showing me what is possible in the seemingly impossible, and inspiring me to mine mindfully everyday, every day dreams, Today, because it Matters.

Blooming and Becoming

“…and the time came when the risk it took to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to Bloom.” Anais Nin

For me this quote captures eloquently the beautiful terrifying truth that lies at the heart of Blooming and Becoming. The precipice faced when standing between the worlds of was and want while wishing there were some secret way to crawl back to the quiet unconscious cocoon of the chrysalis state. But blooming, I am learning can be quite beastly, and won’t be bargained with.

I lived a long time the confusing alternative to authentically expressing the seed that is me. I planted myself in the wrong soil, prayed to the wrong sun and tried my darndest to smell of daffodil when really…well…I’m still figuring that out! It is quite a conundrum to realize the roots and shoots of life don’t match, and crazy making to know what to do about it.

Gardening can be scary and full of surprises, and as I attempt to re-root in the right soil while weeding away inconvenient truths that have tied and tethered me to the wrong tree, I often think of the quote below by Joseph Campbell. I made one small change for the context and hopefully from six feet under whatever garden he’s in, he won’t mind!

“You must give up the life you planted (planned) in order to have the life that is waiting for you”.

May we all brave the route from bud to Blooming.
And begin today, because Becoming matters!

Truths On Touch

Life is teaching me some painful truths about touch.

Truth #1
Although I celebrate daily the changes and challenges of my recent separation, I am surprised in my singledom at the size of suffering in the accompanying physical silence.

I miss meandering over morning coffee, and unconscious caresses in the car. I hunger for goodbyes that promise hearty heartfelt hellos, and hellos that heal however, whatever in the day. My limbs long to linger lazily, and WHERE are the fingers that faithfully find me exactly where I need to be found?

More, everyday, I mourn every mindful, mindless, giddy, glad and sad tingle that tastes of quiet shared cherishing on the never again taken for granted two-way highway that is touch.

Truth #2

I was a tactile child and my mother’s faithful shadow. Looking back I consider cuddling a major food group she fondly fed me that nurtured my fiercely affectionate nature.

In the wake of my own pounding pain I awoke recently to the heartbreaking realization since dad died no one really touches mom. Trained on this truth through the lens of my own grief I wept.

I’ve decided tea-time is now sit snug beside time; healing time to rub unspoken hellos on her back. Last week while I softly circled, mom peeked up and purred–how perrrrfect! Balm for us both.

Truth Has Taught Me:
To freely foster affection with lovers AND friends AND family.
To savour ALL the stripes and seasons of that sustenance.
To feast everyday…

…because today matters.