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?

Asking for Help

A very cool, very able group of women I regularly meet with were talking about how hard it is to ask for help. The excuses flying were: it’s more work to get the help, being unable to ask, having no one to ask, and no one else does it well enough.

One wise woman suggested that it was because of the story we'd seen play out with our own mothers not asking. She suggested that we break the pattern by asking for help from those around us. Afterall, it's the advice we give to others, "Ask for help."

I've been trying to get better at that each year/month/ day. Every time I ask, I am rewarded. Every time I ask, I give others a chance to give me something I really need too. My mom has been a great helper of others in her life, but gives us little opportunity to reciprocate. That leaves us all impoverished.

Also, there's a great study detailed in a really dull book called See Jane Win. The book tries to correlate success influences in the upbringing of 1000 successful women. They looked at education (private, public, post secondary), social strata, town size, birth order, religious beliefs, single parent, double parent etc The one thing, let me repeat, the ONE THING that was common to all successful women was that they had done chores as kids. The researchers proffer that doing chores is esteem building. So there, build your kids' esteem and give them chores!!!

Valentine's Day

Cupid's day is winging our way and I've decided to bomb my friends with love. Shh. Don't tell any of them, but I'm going to send homemade valentines declaring my love for them. Sure, I used to do this in grade 4, when Scooby Doo and The Banana Splits ruled the punched-out-heart world.

A wee bit older now, I can craft my own messages and deposit them unseen under the cover of darkness to be opened. I'll start with those who live furthest away. I should be able to hit friends in Australia. What about those gypsy-friends who live on buses and planes? Hmm, now I understand why cupid has to fly, and why he needs an arrow and boots with good treads.

Trish's Way

On Christmas day just passed, Trish left her body to become purely spirit.

Even while in her body, she was mostly spirit anyway. She lived as we all wish to live--fully, completely, radiating love, patience, understanding while being playful, curious, provocative, confident, and fun. She ran at life with arms wide open, head tilted with a sly smile. She was wisdom shared by stories and always by showing. I learned how to be a more compassionate and understanding parent just by hearing how Trish kept a spare pair of tights at her day-home for Lauren to wear when the posse of kids were going outside on a cold day when Lauren had worn pants to Trish's.

Apparently even at 4 years old Lauren had definite ideas about what she wanted to wear, and pants were too bunchy and scratchy under snow pants. Tights and skirts were "it". So instead of having a debate about it, Trish honoured Lauren. So easy to do, but how often do we try to impose our will, our logic on little people? Big people too.

I have spent so little time with Trish that I didn't know the names of all her children, nor her father or mother. At her funeral on Saturday I spent an hour in the company of her closest friends and family, heard their stories and saw pictures of this remarkable person in life.

During the celebration, my stepdaughter, now 12 years old, sat on my lap and sobbed. Her mouth making "cuh cuh cuh" sounds while her body hiccupped with grief against mine. That too was a gift from Trish. That intimate sharing that comes with fully holding someone.

Each time I freed my left hand from being clasped under Lauren's to wipe tears hanging onto my cheek, Lauren would pull my hand back down under hers as if to complete our circuit.

Our "rainbow connection" just like Kermit sang at your funeral,Trish.
I won't forget you Trish. You were here to change lives, and you did it with beauty and grace. What grace! Thank you.