Fear Factor

Michael and I took advantage of the first blue-sky day in weeks by paddling down the Bow River.

Early into our canoe we saw a huge beaver swimming up stream towards us. What a gorgeous, well-adapted animal!

We practiced eddy turns and ferries, happily playing with the current until Michael wanted to duck into a small bay on river right. It was a tight turn to fit into the mouth of the bay, manage the current and clear a partially submerged tree. Not making the turn would mean we'd be sideways against the tree. Which would be bad. We had more than enough expertise and skill to successfully dodge the tree, but from where I was in the bow of the canoe, it looked like we were heading right for it.

I freaked out. There's no other way to put it. This weird voice came out of my gut and moaned at Michael to get away from the tree. Then I started to cry and hyperventilate! It took me a few minutes to get a grip. Not normally what I would expect from me. It's been almost 3 years since my accident, and there I was acting as if it were the day after. Circumstances looked similar enough that my body went into fear mode.

Fact is, we were not in danger. It was all in my mind--or my body.

What happened in the boat's got me realizing how powerful fear is. How its radioactivity can work away under the surface of things, hidden, and waiting. I'll be more patient now with clients who say, "We can't do that, we tried that once and it almost killed our company." You can rationalize that these circumstances aren't the same as before, that you aren't at real risk here, and it still won't matter until they've fully felt their fear, had their fit, then recovered their senses.

We spent the rest of the evening floating past incredible scenery, the scent of the wolf willow drifting in and out of notice. We saw an even bigger beaver close to the take out. He was as big as our old retriever Lucy! What a night. From the sublime to the ridiculous to the sublime.

Guerilla Gardening II

It's 1 a.m. and teaming with rain here in the Rockies.

I just took a break from writing a loooonnnng and thorough report for clients on how to redesign their business to generate and reflect their new prosperity metrics. I popped out to our front garden and spread some poppy and cosmos seeds among the columbine, delphinium, lilies and lupins. Won't my sweetie be surprised! We had a few little bare patches that were calling out for some frondy blooms to tickle the shins of the perennials.

I love the rain.

During rain showers as a young girl I used to pry the giant, patio umbrella out of its heavy base then drag it to the back edge of the lawn. I'd kneel beneath it-- as dry and snug as a lady bug under a mushroom-- to inhale the verdure around me. Wetgreenandearth has a fragrance that's all its own.

Guerilla Gardening

I colluded with the wilderness tonight. While rain deluged the yard, I pulled rubber boots on over my dress socks and tailored trousers then set out to plant wildflower seeds while the neighbours slept.

Behind our house there is a wilderness corridor designed to help bears, cougars and deer find their way from one grazing site to the next without getting hit by a car or growled at by a dog. Recently, the town thought it wise to pave the (gravel) path that wound through this forested area. In so doing, they disturbed a good deal of ground on either side, which they "repaired" by hosing the area with grass seed and fertilizer. Perfect. All the hard work was done for me.

45 days later we should see the progeny of my midnight wanderings waving blooms at passersby. Thanks to Dawn Buie for the idea of stealth gardening!

p.s. I just checked I'd spelled "collude" properly and found the original Latin root of  colludere "have a secret agreement". Col means "together" and ludere is "to play." I like it. Forgot to mention that I let sidewalk rivers rush over the orange toes of my boots and fantasized I was a big giant standing in the Bow River making perfect surf waves.

Fish Fence

When I first moved to town, I noticed a lovely woman wandering down our street. "Who's that?" I asked my partner. There was something magical about this woman with her long brown hair, patterned skirt and purposeless meandering.
"Who? Oh, she's kinda weird," he replied.
"How so?"
"I dunno. She's just out there."
"Do you know her?"
"Not really."
"I think she's a witch." I pronounced, and strolled out to the road to talk with her.

Today marked 3 years since that day. I met my magical friend for tea. She was telling me how she's learning to ground herself "in this world of illusion". How she has learned to be really present, so much so that for some she is now invisible. Whereas before she might have stood out as odd, now she's happily unseen.

She recounted how last week she was working to build a fish fence with parents and kids from school as part of a river clean up. She found some parents had a lot of ego for driving process and that to them she was invisible. She sat back, twisted wire, and quietly observed.
She shifted the energy around her though. She's certain of that.

Her story made me think of Jesus and the loaves and fishes, the miracle of a few  fish magically feeding the mass assembled. Here my friend was making invisible miracles to feed others while they were feeding fish to the fish fence unaware of life force teeming around and through them. 

I like when the universe has a sense of humour like that. I know I'm being oblique, but Canmore's a small town.

Empathic Civilization

I heard Jeremy Rifkin on CBC Radio's Ideas last night. I was heartened to hear his re-examination, rewriting of history looking for and at evidence of humans' empathy.
Here's his book
http://www.amazon.com/Empathic-Civilization-Global-Consciousness-Crisis/dp/1585427659

There're great talks by Rifkin on YouTube. I especially liked his comment "the real economy is photosynthesis." He reminds us that 6.8 billion people are less than 1% of the biomass of the earth but we are using 24% of the biproducts of photosynthesis on earth. "We have become monsters...this just isn't sustainable."
Worth watching yourself while cooking dinner or washing up.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-7BjeHepbA

My Mom

My mom is amazing. She is always inviting people, strangers, to show themselves as friends. In the grocery store the other day, she invited a "young" man (45 years old) who stood behind her in the express line to place his armful of groceries onto the conveyor belt while she finished her check out. She noticed his Elizabeth-Taylor-blue eyes, and was drawn into conversation with him.


She listened, as she always does, to the lyrics as well as the beat of the conversation. And the young man met her there. He eventually suggested they exchange numbers so that he could follow up with her on a recommendation to a healer he suggested she might like to meet. Of their meeting he said, "I believe these things happen for a reason." By the time she'd returned home, he'd called.


I thought of Harold and Maude because of the age difference. But mom is far from the zany Maude. And this Harold was no ingenue. They won't be driving cars through the countryside or seeing fireworks together, but my mom has been seen by a stranger who took the time to see her as she saw him. There's nothing more powerful that recognizing the nobility in each of us.

Talking to Strangers

I was talking with my mom today about a good guy friend of mine who I love greatly. "Like a brother" is close, but without all the punching. My friend had recently told me that if anything ever happened in his marriage, he would be making a phone call. Flattering and bittersweet. One of the lives not lived among the 47 lives we squeeze into the one we're given. No regrets there. Not even What If's.

What struck me is how Yin and Yang he and I are. As he moves closer to his spiritual, reflective and connected self, as his right brain allows the expansive inclusive right brain to be heard, he gets more like me. And I could live a lot more in the left brain world of my friend, being pragmatic, inching the survival plan forward, planning and doing instead of dreaming, embracing my inner athlete.

I've longed for my friend to become the man he is becoming. Rapidly he's taking that focusing skill he's acquired through competitive sport and fitness training, that ability to see a goal and make steps towards it, and he is applying it to expanding his universe. Now if I can only use my skill at expanding the universe and apply it to focusing on thriving. Act on better survival strategies--better eating, regular connection with my body through exercise, breathing, meditation.


I appreciate that awareness. It gives me a metaphor and motivation for the becoming. I have a visual. I've longed for my friend's evolution, and have felt so secure in my own existence in the world of emotions, spirit, connection and transformation. Perhaps if he stopped to think about it, he'd long for my evolution into the behaviours that extend my life. Maybe that's why we are meeting every other week or so to help the other forward?