i make my own unhappiness

All I don't have hurts.

What an eye opener reading this.

" The greater part of human pain is unecessary. It is self-created as long as the unobserved mind runs your life. the pain that you create now is always some form of non-acceptance, some form of unconscious resistance to what is"
                                                                    - Eckhart Tolle

 

I really and truly need to embrace the life I have.  Even if it's small.
I need to SEE what I do have.

* hot water
* sun rises - sun filled mornings
* treasures in the mail
* stars at night: i always forget to go outside and look. i'm not used to being able to see the stars.

Anyway, I think it's true, I make my own sadness from feeling the heaviness of all I have lost and the overwhelming awareness of all that I want and do not have.

I want to not want the things I want.

Perspective II

i was just thinking how annoying it was to not be able to find glasses that look great on me.
i said, it'd be nice to have six pairs.

then i came home and was looking into donating them overseas and there was a story about a woman who had not had glasses in 39 years. Because of the donated pair, she could now walk around town on her own, without needing someone to guide her around and an arm to lean on.

It just hit me, here i am with the ability to pay for corrective lenses, to be able to have clear vision.
And I'm spending weeks trying on glasses and contacts stressing over the decision of what look is most me - (most fun, most beautiful)

At the end of the day, whichever pair i choose, i will have VISION.


I am SO upside down and backwards. I am SO unaware. I am SO so sorry!

Perspective

I cried because I had no shoes, until I saw a man who had no feet.
                                                                                                           - Anonymous

i didn't know

I have realized that I don't know if anything is true.

Not "ANYTHING" but the things I say. It seems like what is true is the quiet that finally comes over me - when I am sitting in the grass in the sunshine.. with nothing in particular on my mind. Being that much in the present is the only thing that is real.

I am grateful when it happens, though it is rare. I realized today that I might not be ready for a friend.
I mean, I thought I wanted to settle - to stop moving - to have a life here ( or somewhere soon) but I'm meeting people, they are being kind to me, i am being invited to things but it's just not clicking.

I think I need to admit that it's not clicking because I'm not clickable. Not now. Right now, while I crave community, I need solitude. I am happy with a book and with a slow and quiet day. It seems I may not be the gregarious outgoing girl I once was. What changed? Finding someone who loved me for me and let me embrace my quieter side or perhaps it was living in Japan and wanting to be sweet and soft spoken. Perhaps it's that I have always thought too much about everything and am just not able to put on "any sort of performance" even if it's just the performance of being "interesting"

When you're lost, you need direction, you need someone to follow. It's not a great time to take on the world, it's not a good time to be a leader. It makes sense. Things always do when I don't really think about it and am honest about what it is.

So, is what I'm saying now, truth. I don't know for sure, but i feel that it is close to it.

I write here often. Sometimes I am brave enough to post what I write, and sometimes I am not.
Once I prayed. I thought it might be neat to post it, but decided to keep that for me.(For now)
But, that's how honest I'm trying to be

Not hiding from myself.

p.s. the following are some posts i've been holding onto... also there are some from months ago just posted today, if you're curious you can look for them.

The Miracle of a Telephone Call

The answer is a telephone and a long distance plan.

It's not living in the past or wishing for the future if when I think of you I call.
I'm not a small distant something that interrupts your vibrant life

Rather, I am living in the present. I am hearing your words and learning of your days
and you are asking me about my thoughts on things and we are creating and building something brand new that NEVER was before.

We're living. voice to voice. meeting somewhere in the sky.

I'll call you again, presently :)

a farming daughter

I arrived early and walked around the block a few times, then I stood ( a little awkwardly by the post at the back) I figured the workers were inside and they would come out and I'd just go with them. I was a bit nervous, but mostly cuz I wasn't sure if I should be at the back or go in.

I decided to go in. A lovely woman was there, who I really like. She had long white hair in a barrette

(originally from Montreal) She told me the crew wasn't here yet and that I could wait. I said i'd buy a coffee and she said that she would give me one.Whoa!! I should have come earlier. It is so relaxing and restful there with the water and music. Especially the music.

Then the lady who had long white hair asked me if I'd eaten breakfast and I said I had half a banana.. she said that wasn't enough and would I like bacon and eggs.. I said I could have an egg.. and she went and got two eggs to cook just for me!! Then hanah said they had muffins and would I like a muffin. I said yes, and then was asked about the eggs and I said I think I'll be okay. I felt super bad since she had taken the eggs out, but I didn't want to be waited on like that, eggs being made just for me.

I offered to help in the kitchen – and she said, eat your muffin. I kinda felt like I had said something weird, but then she said, I appreciate your willing spirit, but you need your energy (or something like that)

Then I was introduced to Yananya – whose name I thought was Yanick.

He said, I thought you might like to see the animals, and we went into the barn, it was stinky and I was like, here we go, I am really and truly on a farm! He opened a gate and goats ran past me and around the corner. I reacted the way I do when a cat zooms outside, I ran after it and caught it and coaxed it to come with me in the right direction. I liked them! It was super cool ! I was so proud that I didn't need any training in that.

Then there were some stronger ones, they needed leashes and we walked them through a bit of forest to their pen outside. I loved that part, but I had to bend down because I didn't want to pull much on his neck. Yananya actually put both their heads in one leash – so I guess I was a bit too gentle with mine. I got him running at one point which was great – but he still stopped completely right at the gate.

They do that apparently.

Then I got to meet the sweetest baby cow! I would say the highlight. A young girl, age 10 calles him little king or something. I like him sooooo much. Soooo much!

Baby cow!!

I heard that when he was born, his mom cried for him or maybe he wouldn't stop crying, but they wrapped him in a blanket and he could peek at his mother. He wouldn't nurse, so they bottle fed him, well her older brother, Ashhish (?) did.

Her other brother was my favourite. “In California the snakes aren't garder snakes they are rattle so you half to be careful”

He was from Quebec, so I talked about taking the Ferry over there, and he was like “what? Really?” and I thought maybe I was wrong, lol. I kinda wanted to ask if he spoke french, but never did, I kept being about to, but it made more sense to talk about the vegetables and work.

He told me that the goal was Humility and that the elders are easy to respect because they have been around the farm much longer and are very humble. It is easy to respect a humble person.

I really liked that. That that was the ultimate goal.

We thinned out the carrots, because so many had started sprouting. This was like tweasing eyebrows, just getting rid of the ones that were too close, so that instead of a bunch of small ones, there would be fewer but they would be bigger. I am nervous that the carrots won't grow properly, that somehow I messed up that for the harvest. I don't know. It's nerve wracking knowing this will either bloom or not and it's kinda my fault if they don't. Then we transplanted “cucumber” maybe. Maybe you had to be really gentle and make sure none of the roots broke. I had to dig a whole inside a whole in the garbage bag covering and then flip the plant upside down out of it's green container and then put it inside the hole without the dirt square crumbling and the roots getting broken. It was tricky. I was nervous that I wasn't doing it right. At one point I said, some people can't tell cucumbers and zuccini apart – and he was like “what?!! they are very different plants” We took a break from that and went along where there were giant plants growing, they had beautiful – artistic swirled parts right in the centre- and we pulled those out – careful not to pull all the way to the bulb. Yananya said that if you pull and there's a white part, you should eat it because it's good. It is 7:45 and I have eaten lunch and dinner, but I can still taste it. It was like garlic and also a bit like a chive. I found out that onions take a while to grow. I asked what took the most time.

The greenhouse was ridiculously hot and I started sweating right away! I am so glad we weren't in their long. That part I was not a super star at. We were suppose to pick up as much earth as possible where the broccoli were and Yananya lifted two handfuls together so it looked like he was carrying small islands to the bin – whereas I could not get any dirt and ended up with a few leaves and roots, so I became the person who pushes the bin closer so Yananya can put the brocoli and dirt in. (great.)


I was asked to plant a straight rows of “Poppy's” I didn't expect the seeds to be florescent light blue, It felt like showering pixie dust into the earth, perhaps I was planting a rainbow..

Getting the weeds and plants from around the bottom of apple trees

Picking rocks, dumping them in the mud puddles, to start building the road.
I was doing what the boys were doing so there didn't seem to be any “woman's work” specific for me.
but I didn't get offered to use the machines :) which I was glad of.

I most definitely would wear gloves the next time
I don't like touching the metal poles with dry dirt hands. I hate that feeling.
I also got hurt. My hand stung, I thought I had a sliver or a little piece of glass.
I can't believe I picked up a slug and just threw it. Ewww. I just do what I have to.

I felt SO strong and full of life! Energy.

When I got home, covered in dirt – feeling like I'd done something I'd never done before, which might be my new favorite thing to do.
I took a bunch of pictures of me all dirty :) and I was smiling huge.

this only shows some of the dirt. I was covered!! It took hours to get me clean!

                                                                 Carrots in my pocket !!!

I couldn't believe it, all the work I'd done and especially carrying a bucket of rocks up the field and I wasn't broken.

It was impossible, but here I was, feeling Better, Stronger, More energized
I showered and showered and still had some dirt under my nails.

I was happy – like laughy happy and I jumped on the bed. It was awesome!

I felt like a brand new me! SO strong.

So strong!

Always know

"I wish all the people I loved the most could gather in one place, and know eachother and love eachother well. And I wish we could all go camping and lay beneath the stars with nothing to do and stories to tell, and we'd sit around the campfire and we'd make eachother laugh remembering when
and you're the first one i'm inviting - always know that you're invited my friend

. . .at the risk of wearing out my welcome at the risk of self discovery, i'll take every moment and every minute that you give me"

                                                                                                     - Song by Sara Groves

avalanch

okay ouch..


this is what it is to slip.

there is so much noise and so far to run, when I have no strength to even take a step.
it's not just the present: not having work. It's so much more than that. While I never specifically had a plan for my life, I did have deep dreams that would occasionally surface through random comments.

I want to see South America. I want to go to India. I'd like to visit Greece.
I really really wanna adopt. I might be open to having a child by birth sometime after that.. (this is the unanswerable question) I'd like a studio space. Somewhere to paint, scrapbook. I'd like a dark room. I'd like to have a friend to just be silly with.. to throw paint at and wear ridiculously fancy dresses and go for tea.

I didn't think I would be so far from these hopes and dreams.

I'm just at the very beginning. I need to get into a school, and then teach for a bit. I always thought I'd teach for a few years before being a mom. Now it just seems like I need to do it all now! And I can't.

Like I said, I can't even take the first step.

I need a hug for every cup of coffee I'm taking throughout this day.

I am trying to fit into other people's days and moments, and I am thankful for this. But I know where I wanna be.. I just don't know how to get there..

Sometimes I think letting go of the dreams might be the only was to heal. Because everyday it hurts a little more.

I guess I thought I'd be the daughter with generations to guide me and others for me to care for. Just a ripple in the pond, a face in the circle. Happy Surrounded.

I feel so alone. Surrounded in glass. Untouched.

I want to run around and smash the glass and free us all to run into the streets. I wish I was as powerful as the first snowfall.. I wish I could gather everyone together.

Like a newborn. without this touch, I am dying.

trying to stick to lemons

A pink flamingo wrote about lemons the other day. She said, "Everyone expects life to be easy and when a lemon is thrown our way, we get upset and we don't always deal with it in the best way possible."

I think it's pretty interesting that my background is lemons. I thought it was something soft and maybe sweet - with a hint of new babies and family wallpaper around.

But it might be more accurately telling something about all the lemons life has given me, and telling me to hold them in my hand. taste them. find some way to delight in them.

I have no lemon tree. I did not plant one. I did not buy one. So how have they come?
From whence these lemons that fall like hail?

 My friend has a child, who is close to four now, and her name means lemon. Her father is a chef and it was just the sweetest thing i'd ever heard of. I wish I could remember her name to tell you, its japanese. But yes, baby lemon.

Then, there's the moment when I cut a lemon in half and the real lemon juice scent was so fresh and filled me with excitement. Never again would I buy lemon aid. I am wishing for a little lemon squeezer and waiting to make my own (and put it in a clear glass jug too)

I can't deny that I am excited to make alcoholic versions and have real leaves and maybe mint in there. But this is a blog about lemons, so I won't say anything more about that for now.

The thing is though. Lemons are sour. They can shock you and make your face twist up suddenly.
It's funny, but it's not exactly anyone's best look.

So, the expression goes, "If life gives you lemons, add lots of sugar and make it into something that hides the fact that there are lemons in it"

!!!ah! Just startled by that black cat!!! Who was staring at me - and Miawed!!
Now I'm all startled and distracted.      (What is going on with this cat?)

Lemons even show up in my favourite song by lisa mitchell, coin laundry

Now I'm imagining a little baby sleeping in a lemon.
And thinking I should look for lemon earings.

When I was in Victoria I loved the lemon stand. Especially when it was closed and was simply a giant lemon with a door.

I knocked, but no one answered.

Do you remember Strawberry Shortcake? She had a lemon friend. Who lived in a Lemon and probably made lemon things.  Wonderfully redundant.

                                                  Hi, haven't seen you for a while Miss. Lemon Mirangue

incidently, Lemon Mirangue pie is my most favouritist pie ( with strawberry rubarb running a close second) The blast of cold sour lemon and the whimsy of Mirangue.. is pure magic.

Lemon poppyseed muffins are my favourite muffin.

So interesting that something sour and with negative connotations is the colour of the sun and the brightest of feelings.

Before I was born, my mother was certain that I was a boy and the doctors that I was a girl. So, my room was yellow and my blankets were yellow.

I was told I looked good in yellow.

I wore a yellow dress when I walked down my first outdoor aisle through the forest, in my aunts wedding.

wait. this has nothing to do with lemons anymore..  oops! :)

interruptions

Alastair just walked through the forest and saw an owl.
An owl came into my day

I heard a miaw, and a black cat that was a little frightening, came running into my apartment.Peeked under the bed, ran towards the door, sniffed at the bottom of the stove, and disappeared.

I couldn't find her anywhere.

I told Al I was having a sad day.

He said, now you have an owl and a cat in your day!

True.
So true.

I'm not so sad right now.

odd. Incredible.

I'm going to leave my door open for the rest of the day!

ode to a new-born

To all of you who have given birth with or without pain medication, at home or at a hospital,
with or without a husband, mostly alone or surrounded by people.

You have done an incredible thing, you have struggled and stretched, cried and been through so much
to birth a child. You have been transformed from a woman to a mother. You have already in the hours before, done more than you might ever do, to be all that you could ever be, for your child.

You deserve unlimited love from your child. Instead, from the moment your baby is born, you give them more..

You should rest, you should be held and fed and bathed.
Yet, what you need.. you give..

New-born Mothers are truly unspeakably great.

the greatest of compliments

I owe an incredible thankyou to a girl named Vernie who allowed me to be by her side
for the birth of her first child. It was my first time in a birthing room and came very close
to being my first experience of the final transition out of the womb into a full live little one crying..
so there still remains much that is unknown in between..

early in the morning on Thursday i was asked if i was a doula.

i smiled from ear to ear.

confessions of an almost mom groupy

Wed. June 13  6:05pm

i just saw a brand new - just birthed little beautiful baby crying but not in a screamy way. So small, the nurses were going to bathe him or her, I think. It was amazing seeing the tiny baby lifted and turned to face downwards.. something hit me.. and I am pretty sure I cannot be in the delivery room for my friends birth

this is my favourite baby. i wanted to stay there by the window until i was shooed away.
i don't think i wanted to go in the room, maybe a little.

my feet felt funny and i was just in awe.
i don't think i could think about much at all.

I was there because my new friend who has been pregnant since we met, is about to be not pregnant any longer. The thing is no one knows when. She went to the hopital because it was going to be any minute now.. but was told she could go home ..and now it could be tonight or even tomorrow. I've been on alert for a few days now.

I wanted to stay at the hospital, but the waiting room is tiny and there are only four chairs.

So, my goal now, is to wait till I hear anything, and stay clean and comfortable, so that when I hold the baby, it is safe for her. I have constantly been thinking it will be a boy, but when I heard the name she has chosen for a girl, I'm really hoping it's a girl.

this is such a powerfully special time for me, because I always thought I would be there for the birth of my friends babies. I have missed them all. Thankfully, I see that I would not have been much help, and if anything either been a wreck or too adoring.

Apparently, birth is just something that you do. Who knew?  It happens. It's kinda a normal thing.
It's not at all! It's this colosal collision of almost and is. of invisible and seen. of hidden and revealed.

Reading the story of Genesis yesterday.. it really and truly is creation happening. I have to tone it down, and just stand around in a waiting room with a coffee and even my purse.. really, there is no
ceremony, guests don't wear clean robes, conversation is not entirely focused on the newborn to be.
Who knew?

Apparently lots of people.

Anyway. I am deeply greatful to this baby and her Mom (or his Mom) for allowing me to kinda be around. It is healing a lot of years of pain. I know that my friends had all they needed, loving family, husbands, and their new child. That I was exactly where I was suppose to be, thinking of them, praying for them, and visiting when I could.

I am thinking of each of you, as I think of her. It's amazing, but somehow, this birth is each of yours.

mathamatics of myself

i have tried to be a saint and sometimes thought i was, i'm sure.
but i cannot be.

i have had times of being everything, and thought it had to be all or nothing.
but if i was everything, that means that i was taking up someone else's spot

i know i cannot be a saint, i know that i am not one
i know that i cannot be everything anymore, if ever i actually was.

i know i can only be a part of something.
i know i am only one person.

but this does not have to be discouraging, this does not have to come as a shock,
the fall is hurting because my pride was great. is great.

it is okay to just be one of many, because it allows others to be ones as well.
we are really, only, all ones with other ones with othes ones

we do indeed live in a world of numbers, and our number matters and together we become uncountable, but we are always very countable

and that's what counts (^ - ^)

i don't want to be a number!( i have said)
i want to be seen, heard and loved. i want to be special

being one amoung other ones, is indeed that special place. it is belonging, it is being seen and wanted
and loved.

oh! i want to be a number. i want to be counted amoung you.

we already are

did you know the planets are named after the greek gods?

how can i wonder about being part of an educational system that honours and explores the spiritual world.. when we are all surrounded in this mystery already, we are just not ever aware of it.

Zeus and Hermes were not accepted by anyone, except for by one elderly couple, and they destroyed the place in a flood except for the elderly couple as they turned their straw hut into a beautiful palace.

i like doing things differently.

i'm writing again.. because today, was definitely something significant..
thankyou for listing to my wandering thoughts. (May u always find a way to be free)

It's not so much that I have been trying to find myself - it's more specifically like I've been trying to find a way to be in the world without changing who I am. I realize that it is only a miracle that I have somehow not lost myself in the process of school and media and all of the lessons that say that we ever need to be more than we already are and have more than we do and give more than we are able.

I found a new rhythm in being unemployed. Sadly I was not able to truly plunge into the sweetness and healing because of course of the voices in my head and the pounding in my heart, saying that everyone else was at work or busy with something. Essentially saying, "How dare you be at home, the only acceptable way for you to be living this way, is if you had a child.. which you don't.. so you are wrong, selfish, depressed, lost, hurting, struggling" I didn't feel any of this, not in my truest self..but yet I believed the words enough to have a heavy dose of fear and panic wake me up in the morning and stay with me.

I fought it, in one of two ways. Having less expectations of myself saying that I only had to do one thing every day. Whether it was the laundry, applying for a job, writing a little bit to get ideas on paper,
cooking lunch, getting dressed. I only had to complete one task per day.

The other way, I escaped this, was when I remembered to pray, or not even that..but when I was quiet enough to remember that God was with me - right there in the apartment - and then, we'll it was awesome, we'd just hang out. He'd make me laugh and I'd fly so far abouve those feelings..and just be me - happy - safe. Since the only expectation he has of me, is to say thanks for the life I've been given and to watch for the reason I might have been put here in the first place.

watch, but NOT stress out.

It's not easy. You try! Unemployment, not even being able to talk about taking an African drumming class because you couldn't afford it.. and not knowing when you ever will be able to. It hurts. That's all.

"One can live on dreams.. but when you doubt your dreams, then what?"

But this about different. Like a fish out of water, I may have found my pond.

I spent about an hour in a Waldorf school today and I can't imagine ever EVER pursuing any other
way of education ever again.

The things I loved about the public system, now seem to be missing something.

It's like I've been flipped upside down, and it turns out it's easier to walk on ceilings than floors!!

I'm in love with the fact that I can be myself, not on friday nights and weekends and holidays, but every minute of everyday. That, after all these years, of keeping myself like a secret. It might be safe to be me.

I don't know if I had an interview or if anything professional took place at all. I only know, that I may have made a few real friends and I danced with a girl who laughed, with freckles on her face. That the children were covered in mud and no one minded and that we walked on desks.

It was like a gentle dance.
And I think they are the luckiest kids on Earth.

p.s. when i saw this, i wondered, what would have happened if i'd learned this as a child.

p.s. then i realized i wouldn't be experiencing this dawn of healing, hearing it for the first time now(this photo is blurry, because i was nervous, uncertain and happy..how could i hold a camera steady?)

little voice

for so long i have lived in a realm of hope, laughter and safety.

there is so much that you don't tell a child and so much that you do.

i loved that my role was to speak hope and excitement into people, to help them see
the amazing person that they already were and to help them dream of what they would do
about it :)

to celebrate them! and in turn to explore the wonderful illimitable everyday. From raindrops
to roses, from whiskers to kittens. It was fantastic! It was a real fairytale.

Sure, there were tears and there is trauma. But in some way, I was sheltered from really
being shocked into silence at the world. It is not that there isn't hope, but I am just not sure if
people will get there at the rate we're going.

I want to believe that one person can make a difference, that each little change helps. That
telling kids to be kind to animals and to re-use things will help to mend the present maltreatment of
animals and somehow protect a forest and save at least one polar bear.

But I can't help but really believe it will take more.
And I think, deep down, I'm terrified that I won't be able to keep dreaming and playing and laughing.

As an educator too much is at stake. You have a chance to love and to teach. You have a platform where some of the students will listen and some might be impacted forever by how you treat them and how you live in the world.

It all overwhelms me.

I think. for the very first time. unemployment has been a way of stopping the conveyor belt i was on.
it's a shock for sure. i am no longer moving forward. but, like having loud music turned off.. i feel like i am hearing myself.

listening to something. Someone.

hearing the little me inside me, the real me, the one i have always been - since consciousness, and maybe long before..

and it is saying, " i don't know. i'm scared. we need eachother. we are always moving apart.. i feel it.

and it is asking, "why do we waste so much of life doing what hurts us. for money? it can't be just that. i am so confused. is there anywhere i can stand to balance the earth. is there anything i can say. is there anyone who can say - a word - to heal all of us?"

and it is crying...just a little. but it is grateful too.

suddenly seen

a dear friend just wrote to me, and i feel as though my whole blog could end.

i feel at peace. real, breathe in-breathe out, peace.



i feel understood and i feel suddenly like maybe so much that i feel i need to change, tweak and remake of myself is perhaps not so necessary.



i want to be humble, i want to see my faults and not so much the faults of others.

this is so very true and necessary, but i also want to be gentle - even kind to myself in the process



reading her inspirational reminder about the early years of development being largely due to imitation, i suddenly feel like, maybe it's not terrible that i imitate others, in their ways or life, their interests, their values. Maybe it's not so important to be sure of who i am, and that it's okay to be a blend of those i've encountered. Maybe, identity comes from identifying.



anyway, i can't help it. I'm not trying to be someone else, i'm not wishing myself away, I'm just so in love with others I become them.



Not everyone, mind you. But certain people I have known. Their voices, their laughter, their drawings, their thoughts, their questions have formed me.



I know that much of me is my mom and dad too. This is harder for me to be open too.

To see parts of me in vivid overwhelming brightness! It is too much.



I am not able to unravel myself and begin again. It is a beautiful thought, but I think I would be left

with absolute clarity, but would have lost much of my sight.



I wonder if it's not only people that make me, but flowers and clouds, overheard whispers and the night darkness.



I have not lost my wonder. I only hide it because not everyone is safe to trust.



"Look world, Look!!!" and once again, I want to tell everyone about a black bunny in a small grassy place - who is frightened and thumping his foot hard against the earth.



I have NEVER seen a bunny stomp his foot.



It's fear and bravery. It is a struggle. It is a moment of decision, before the bunny flees.

It is hope, it is wondering if maybe things will be okay while it's heart races and tells it something might be very wrong.

the rabbit flees..but only a little ways, before stopping to nibble at the grass.

trusting again.


It seems that it is true, Sometimes, "The most radical thing you can do is to stay put"

Gary Snyder


this post is dediated to child-hood friends and little black rabbits.

The Chanting Circle

I feel like this night might become an important part of my journey ..

It wouldn't be at all anything out of the blue for Islanders, but for those in Ontario and elsewhere
this might be something new.

I was invited to attend a chanting circle, and eagerly accepted. I did not know what to expect, but
I love being in a circle of people. Whether it's around the campfire, a sleepover gathering on my bed,
stella-ella-olla on the playground, ring-a-round the rosie with some children.

I very much belong in circles.

I was dropped off just outside of a small cabin type home, surrounded by trees. A dog ran up to me barking and I asked if he was dangerous, I'm not a dog person and I really think they can sense my fear, anyway, I was told she was not and then welcomed into the home by a man I did not know.

I entered the room and there was a circle of chairs and two candles lit in the very centre of the place.
There was a door on the otherside, not far from me, opening onto the forest and breeze outside. There were two bird houses and a white cat.

I was welcomed by a woman who was preparing for the evening, and I smiled warmly and told both of them my name. Then I waited for everyone else

When the others arrived, they were told to take off their shoes, but when I went to do likewise, the man I had first met, winked and said it wasn't necessary. I felt so special, getting to keep my shoes on. They were simple tatami sandals and i felt they just fit. If we had been outside I definitely would have gone barefoot, but i was happy to be allowed to stay as I was.

When most people had arrived, I found out that we hugged.

I am not opposed to hugging. Quite often hugs happen for me almost unconsciously. I have hugged strangers and people I've met on the street. I love hugs!  However, this was a little bit uncomfortable for me, since the first person to hug me was a man in his early forties, I'm guessing, maybe older who explained how we hug left to left so that our hearts touch. I tried to go with it, to trust, but I couldn't help feeling that this guy was quite the initiation into coercive intimacy. I did my best, and then hugged others, after perhaps awkwardly offering a handshake as a bridge to the hug.

Then we all stood together arms around eachothers backs in a tight circle and the chanting began.

I came very close to laughing aloud since it really and truly was an "ohmmmmmmm" I did not have a clue what I was doing, but I just joined in. At one point I wondered if we were suppose to be staring at eachother - that perhaps that was part of the unity, so I glanced up and found everyone had their eyes closed. Chanting tends to lend itself to that naturally, and so I resumed my position of eyes closed or eyes open head bowed.

There was a brief, strangely normal moment when the leader discussed books and video's available to the group, and the members there discussed upcoming performances and an end of year bbq. This chatting seemed very out of place and to me, a new comer, a bit info-mercial like. But it also lent a certain normalcy to the whole thing too.

After all, no one was anything mystical or frightening. We were just people chanting, singing, coming together with one voice. In terms of performances, it turns out that there were opportunities for them to chant in Native communities, and festivals. Very cool.

Then we continued for the rest of the evening, and what did we continue doing.

Speaking in other languages, following new rythms, listening to the leaders deep barotone perfectly intune. We sang. We lifted our voices in an almost accapella sound, although we were so blessed by a drums and guitar.

The chants were Indian, B'ahai, Jewish, Spanish and more I couldn't disciphere. There were stories told about the meaning and invocation of the chants. It was the closest I had come in a long long time to feeling like I was apart of a community in another culture, in another country.

Tea ceremony, ikebana flower arrangement, the monks of Japan. The openess of homes and the importance of taking time with people, of Mexico. These two places where I belonged and wanted to stay forever.

I miss that life terribly.

It was so wonderful to feel that I had found a little of that, here in Canada.
It was not the same, but it was enough of a taste of it, to remind me of myself. How much I long for
being placed in a new language, to learn and to grow constantly in the presence of others.

The best of me seems to be disappearing into others lives and voices.
The less I actually understand, the more true I feel.

It was beautiful. Like listening to the Halleluhia chorus sung by many voices all blending together.

I wouldn't say that I felt anything mystical. There was no sense of floating or intensity of emotion, however, at times, when we sang certain notes, said certain words, I would feel like I could almost cry it was so beautiful. I longed to get to that word, that note again and again and again. Since chanting is all about repetition. It was a little journey each time, from the bottom to the top, from the darkness to the light, from the out of sync to the harmonized, from the faltering to the steady.

From beautiful to beautiful.

Afterwards, we put our hands together, bowed and said Namaste, and swept the smoke from the candles over ourselves and over everyone around us. Then we each had one chocolate covered mulbury sweet, so that the sweetness of our coming together would literally go with us as we left.

Happiness

So, when I first arrived here. I wandered down the street and walked into

Common Ground Cafe. I wasn't sure if I even had enough money for what I ordered, but it
was such an amazing place that I said to myself: I would stay here, just for this cafe.

Now, almost a whole year later. I have finally met the owners and have agreed to

spend a day working on their farm. I am hoping that it goes over well, and I am delighted
to have received such a caring welcome. I'm thankful that they both spoke with me for a while. The only time in the conversation that I felt awkward, was when they asked what I do and I said, well,

I recently moved here and I have my teaching degree, but it's not easy to find work. They were like,

“it's not”and I felt like, I just really don't want to think or talk about teaching. I need this to be something totally apart from that.

I am so excited that they invited me to come on a Friday night to celebrate with music, dance and a

meal before the Sabbath.

It is so nice that there is no commitment. I could go once a week, or I could go for a whole week.

I think it would be great to live on the farm, but I don't want to put the cart before the horse! In this case a very applicable image!

I only wish I had connected with them sooner – but i didn't know i could and presumed they would want someone with experience.

Best moment of the conversation, was when I said, I have never done this before but have always wanted to. They said, there's nothing worse than expert farmers, you can't teach them anything!” so I said, ' I can promise you inexperience! And smiled!

They laughed.

Maybe..

Maybe all I need is a break,

to somehow step off the conveyor belt of who I've been and where I've been headed.
to just dip into cold waters and come up new

I know i want to be plunked into a community - that i want to learn and grow.
to be part of

I'm heading down the street right now, to say I'm interested in working on a farm this summer.
I don't know what it will look like or if I can even handle that life.

But I know that my hands need to be in dirt. I have felt it for months.
I need to pursue the earth. I need to feel the sun or the rain. I need to plant something.

This could be the hardest thing I've ever done. It could be the best thing that ever happens to me.

I just hope they give me a chance, to be changed. . .

why is the wagon always red?

have you ever had it all come clear - and then woken up unexpectedly drowning in the black waters all over again..

it's not easy, this going backwards

Last night, I was gloriously surprised by free live music at my favourite place here so far, Zocalo's Cafe.. I arrived around 4:30pm and easily stayed till almost closing time.. I browsed a children's book and let the music carry me away until the place was transformed into all that is beautiful from that world of long ago where I have never lived, and only know of from books and movies.

I realized I'm happiest all alone. That's when I am free to live in the realm of the unreal, able to hear and see and feel SO much all around me. Able to laugh.

This is why it's not always so easy to find a kindred spirit.. as I think, at my very core, I'm more like a wide eyed baby.. which is one little bit of why I am not yet a Mom... I promise to write all about that sometime soon..

So everything was wonderful. I found myself once again, following a day designed by God.. much in the way someone might carefully plan an elaborate proposal.. turn here, go here, look someone to talk to, a small white butterfly glimpsed just before it disappears from view amoung white flowers on a tree, the sunlight, did you see that shadow? the sunlight.. look up..

A few times, while I've walked my street - I have smelled something so sweet, I know it must be the flowers, but I cannot find them anywhere..

This wonderful mystery of life.

but, this morning, I awake, sad.
unable to even imagine beginning the search for my place here.
overwhelmed with the thought of leaving this room

I know that just beyond.. almost the moment I step outside.. is all I need for healing..
yet.. I am just exhausted from this ride of hope and dispair..

i'm tired.
and feel that i have nothing to offer but brokeness

i am very much a shiny red wagon whose wheels are rusted from tears
who is afraid of what it might be like to be loved again, to be taken out and
to rolled along the sidewalk.. bump..bump..bump..

it seems that not much depends upon a little red wagon.. but rather
so much depends upon the child who loves it.

p.s.  now i want a wagon.

all along..all these years..even when i didn't know it..

 "Your songs have Never stopped - You've been singing, always singing over me!
Your words are Still Enough - When you're singing, always singing over me!"

i'm twirling on the inside..
                                           ( and watching white blossoms doing the same in a gentle breeze)

thankyou.

Best Day Ever

I have never seen a magnolia flower. At least I know I must have, but I do not remember ever seeing one. They are huge, like something out of an imaginary land. So big and tropical, like water liles but all over a tree and standing up like candles. So amazing.

One thing about me, is that I rarely do things completely alone. That is one thing, I've lost with being married and with the socially surrounded times in my life. Being alone, being out in the world alone is one of the most magical times. Because I don't feel alone at all. I feel led and guided and accompanied
by God. From the moment I step on the bus, I am filled with all that could be ahead. There is Never any disapointment because my Joy and Peace and Silliness are perfectly understood and absolutely dignified. In fact, it's like I say, "It's So beautiful" and God says, "Isn't it - but there's more.." It's always More. I'm never laughed at - never misunderstood. I can walk around and around a tree for as long as I want, until I notice the cold and the night coming on.

I can gasp, I can dance, I can be totally bewildered by beauty.

Really? This is earth. This is a park. This is a tree.

I don't think so. It's something beyond human comprehension, it's a secret, and it's all for me!
God winks.

and I continue down the path.

p.s. i only planned to kiss the flower and ended up drinking a raindrop.

Time to be

Before I moved here, I went online to see what little cafe's and shops were about in this small city I was to live in. I wanted to have a few things to look forward to and to begin visualizing my life ahead.. maybe.. I don't know, it was just my reaction once I knew we'd be living here.

I found a wonderful store called, Be 
While reading what they stood for - a clothing label's ideals - I was almost emotional.
This was going to be my slogan, my direction, my moto.


be
-verb-
to exist
to live
to continue

It was simple - and yet to actually be. To live in the world as authentically and honestly you as possible is a dangerous and difficult thing to do. At least it is for me.  Because I know what to say and do to have everyone find me delightful, and I also know what to keep hidden from others because if they ever knew, well, they'd run or at least never bother to hang out with me. But, it's not so much the expectations of others, and the whispering dare's from sociaty, and the pressure to be an awesome wife and friend and disciple - yup. being kind and loving and realy treating everyone like they are precious creations.

it's more than that. 
It's My own expectations of myself. They go off in so many directions I can't even keep up with my day dreams let alone my actual life in all it's wishes and wants and should's and what if's. It's exhausting.

So what are all the me's I can't live up to - and why can't I give myself a break. After all - I don't place these expectations on others, or at least I don't think I do.

I have to be a blazing fireball of constant energy and excitement ..or I am nothing.

I have always wanted to find out where the greatest need is and sign up for that!
I read about Mother Theresa in Calcutta.. and i'm afraid, but I want to go. I hear about people living amoung the poor - living where it's dangerous and I want to be them. I hear about countries looking for people to care for children in orphanages and I want to go there.
I cry, I'm ready to pack. It's all i've ever wanted - it's the only thing that makes sense.

And then, I want to be on a farm - or part of an intentional environmentally sensitive community. Where people share everything and grow together as a unit. Where the whole idea of personal belongings and privacy, isn't really embraced - and where people embrace eachother. I want to learn how to plant gardens and tend to gardens. I want to get up at 6:00am and live according to daylight. I want to be dependant on and aware of nature as a sibling, as a presence, as something real. I want to be small and part of.

But then, oh I love the city! I want to be connected to the Arts community and go to cafe's that have live music, and poetry reading. I want to meet the musicians and know them and talk with them. I want to go often and join in. I want to sing again! I want to read poetry in front of a crowd. I want to
be somewhere where shopping is understood - where it isn't shopping.. but a wonderful respectable way to explore and inhabit living art.

perhaps the only way to still play dress up and live in a land of makebelieve, when you are in your thirties!

Then. As I have so prepared, I do very much want to be part of a school. To lead drama programs, maybe a musical - to teach environmental awareness and to have elementary children that care and are active in social justice and caring for those in their class, in their school, and in the world.

But, where am I in all of this.
how can I want to buy knee high leather boots one day.. and want to own nothing the next!
It might be a struggle of living, a conversation that is meant to take place, and is good.

I don't know much. I know that I am reading and it has been so long since I have really read. novel after novel. I have made the decision since returning to Canada, for the past two years I have been a vegetarian. I know that I can't breathe if Art is not in my life.. and I am SO thankful that Art is everywhere..

In the movement of a blanket, in the colours of the leaves, in the buttons of  a two year olds jacket.
In the brightness of all the shades of my friends eyes!

In the sunlight.

    The bible says it best,   Cease Striving and Be.

There are all the me's I'd like to me. There are the me's the whole world see's
and then there's the me.. the whatever-it-is I was designed to be.. that if I stop running after all of these things.. I already am.

See, it's a mystery. Just existing. living. continuing
but I think I'd like to try it

Hiding the thing that matters most

Japan changed me
as I was instantly more myself than I'd ever felt before
to have everything erased, can be a wonderful gift.

Like having a planet explode.. and then being able to rebuild it.. what do you do first?
Do you find a leaf? What leaf? What type of tree do you choose to begin with? What kind of seed?

You start to see what you really want.. You start to feel what you really need.
The few things that matter.

I know what my dreams are. I want to tell you. But, I'm not ready.
So many times I talk and wish I hadn't. Talking about things takes something away.
Like waking up so early you stumble, and catching that first bit of colour coming up
with the sun.
Then running inside to tell someone.. what can you say?
I saw a sunrise! I felt hope again! I stood for a moment so near to beauty I felt..small..almost invisible..and more real than ever!

None of these phrases come close to what you felt.

I like that a picture replaces a thousand words.
But, even a picture is not enough

I will hold onto the most precious thing I have, that glimmer of...

"Someday maybe I will"

P.S.

husbands don't count.

being me

I worry that this is all so narcissistic - but this is all the stuff i've been dealing with that is hitting me like a wave of ice in this time of standing on shifting sand. So, please be patient.

I have always had an ability, a gift to get along with pretty much everyone - and be cameleon like in my personality - but the down side to that - to blending with those i love- is that i am not totally myself.

I have always had a friend in every stage of my life, whom I not only cared for deeply, but whom I wanted to immitate in some way. It's not a following exactly, but more a gathering..like bringing rocks home from the beach, to remember. Like keeping the stickers and little coloured pieces of string stuck to my clothes after a day with kids. It's gathering, it's keeping.

I absorb my friendships like a sponge does with water, and find them sloshing around inside me
both in memories and in the things they love. but.. I get a little lost.

I can name the girls I want to be and be with - and they are not always my age. The best thing I copied, was a camper who was probably seven or eight years old - maybe younger. She wore several neclaces at once.. and after that.. so did I.

I really like being part-of.. yet I have a personality that stands out.
so strange. I would love to buy a matching pair of boots with someone, to have the same jacket as someone, to have the same jewlery as someone.

secretly I do. I have often gifted someone with something - and kept one for myself. It's the best friend heart neclace concept. I wish everything I had was second hand from someone I knew.

I'm a little bit sad that I don't have a bridesmaid dress from my own wedding.. course I don't, I had a wedding one.. but I feel a little left out.

(that's interesting to think about would i rather be one of the bridesmaids, than the bride?)

Then again, to go out there and find something that I like - not because of anyone else - just because I like it. I think there would be freedom in that.

Like keeping my hair long! It's me. Like wearing glasses! It's me.

But then again, I love the learning and growing togetherness of friendship. Suddenly knowing a song, or a poem that you never knew before. Suddenly loving something you never would have otherwise.. because they love it so much.

I should have been a twin.
I know deep down I'm longing for a best friend.
One person I mean the world to, who means the world to me.

I'm not so good at sharing.

now you know,

far from there

I don't know what to say, and so I have been silent. I think the truth is that I am afraid.
I'm trying to create a play list, so I can smile and be free falling amidst my favourite sounds, but the notes i have so recently loved and the words that have stirred me to laughter or tears, seem to have no affect.

I have sensed that what I need to do is bring in- accept- welcome.. whatever comes my way. So I have to somehow embrace this.

I don't know what that looks like, but to welcome it, not to fight it.

I guess a part of letting go - is letting come!

I feel like I'm living underwater - not that I'm drowning, but that I am down in the ground of the ocean - and can only see a blurry sunshine on the water and bathers that look like colours blurred together pale and taking no notice of me.
Yet, I can look around and see the fish and feel the seaweed against my arms as I move through it.. not yet.. because I continue to look up - knowing I should be on the shore.
Knowing this water-world is not for me.

But I won't be freed to break the surface of the waters, until I have learned to welcome the fish, the seaweed, the water in my ears that's crumpling sounds I recognize..turning them into something else completely.


p.s.
I want to say thank you to a friend for lending me her playlist, so i am forced to hear someone else's sounds. Somehow in this, I will find something of my own or better, I will find something of her.

An appology

I have lived under this: that my dreams are gone, that the best of my life is behind me, that all the things i want to have in my life, all that i see as a life worth having I don't have, may have to wait years for, or might never have. This is so painful and makes me carry a sadness with me. I want to hope that I will be freed from this, delivered, rescued.

What I needed, was to stop wishing for another life and to love the one I have been given.

So, I'm sorry for wanting my life. The life I design and dream up. I want the life designed for me

by the Creator. I can have a heart that's full of desire for change and not necessarily see that change in visible things, like where i live and who I hang around. It's not all or nothing. Once again. I must realize this.

When I say "this isn't the life I want - and I know exactly what life I want!" It hurts Alastair.

Of course it would. It would hurt me. Yet I say, that's not what I mean, that he doesn't understand and that it's not about him. Isn't it?

That's exactly what i'm saying. I want another life. That everything up to now is wrong. That it was right for a little while, but now it's all gone. It's over - lost.

It hurts Al & It hurts God.

I need to stop wanting to be someone else, and stop wanting someone else's life.

I need to have the courage to accept me, accept where I am.

not just accept it, but get excited about it.

Yes, I can jump into the life I want. But life should unfold naturally, it shouldn't be forced, it shouldn't be a constant striving.

Eyes to see Cherry Blossoms. Mouth to speak and ask questions. Heart to feel, pain and joy.

There is worth in that. My life has value. There is something I have - right now - that is of such incredible worth and wonder, that if I were to lose it, I would long for it more than anything I am longing for now.

For too long I have been a tree wishing that I were a river.

How wonderful to be a tree who wishes I were a tree.

I want to realize if I wasn't me, I would be wishing that I was.

It's time to wish for who I am and wish for the life I already have.

i want to say it doesn't fix everything, but it does!!!

My heart is racing so fast - there might be a place for me after all in this world.. while i have been deeply regretting not pursuing a career in arts or art education - and also knowing i wasn't motivated enough to supply teach for two or more years before getting the oh so wished for temporary or dare i hope permanent teaching position.. i am very specific, i am great with little ones however i am also done with daycare.. i belong somewhere between preschool-and grade 3.

this brings us to the fantastic school that makes me believe that i could pursue my own happiness and the feeling of being home, while still, being a teacher and caring, loving and educating children. I can stand up tall and say with my whole being that i am for the earth, for the ancient, for the flowers and fruits, for colour, for crafting and not so totally aligned with technology being the answer for everything. While i don't love blackboards - smartboards and having students have iphone projects on the go, the fact that a poor student would be left far behind.. how in the world did owning a laptop become a necessity..

but to be apart of this strange and wonderful world - i needed 4 years of training on top of my Bachelor of Education and University degree... really? More teacher training. Now, don't get me wrong, I would love more training, I never want to stop learning new ways of reaching kids and bringing technicolour to their experience in school.. but i can't afford 1 more year, let alone 4..

so in about a day or two, I went from knowing exactly where I belonged..and filling with a happy heat - to being completly crushed and knowing that my new found dream was far far beyond my reach.

oh and i also hesitated because of the fact that early literacy is not something that is focused on or even really taught. But, Waldorf is not encouraging illiteracy.. just not teaching it to four and five year olds.. but they are teaching the German language and Greek Mythology..and did I mention basket weaving - well not actually, but instrument making, woodworking, water colour painting, things using yarn ..

but guess what? Hope against hope, they are hiring teachers now without the training.. the training is necessary BUT not prior to the job offer..

the school isn't in the town we're in. It might mean my husband leaving his job. but it's a very small window that not only makes me happy in my vocation, but earases years of regret at the same time. i'm ready! looks like i gave up on being a forest elf too soon

can u imagine being payed to make flower crowns!

A-men!

this is a prayer- I can't get this without a miracle! I am holding my breathe and holding out my hands

I would love my life, be proud of who i am, and be able to change the world. just a little bit. one child and one engaging story telling at a time :)

what about teaching?

All I ever knew was that I wanted to go to Teacher's College. There was no sweeter sound, it was like all my dreams rolled into one word, all my hopes and all that i would be. I never thought about after, well, not often. I just wanted to get in - to go to Teacher's College. I remember often asking, "Is it okay to go to Teacher's College and not pursue teaching afterwards?" It was a big question. It made me hesitate when I applied and as I gathered the money, the oh so much money, to get me there.

It wasn't what I expected, and I realize it never could be, nor will teaching. My dream came from a book long long ago, I wanted to be a teacher - but I wanted to take a train far away and teach in a one room school house. My vision did not include being married or being in my thirties. It did involve wearing dresses though, I think.

My other dream was to teach where teachers are needed. In schools without much of anything. Where education can save lives and bring freedom ( I know education can do that anywhere) but i mean where teachers are really needed.

Yet, I find myself somewhere where you have to fight to teach. Where teacher's college, years of experience with students in inner city contexts and overseas is not enough. Where I am at the bottom once again. I am so very proud of the new teachers who are climbing this mountain. Those who are supply teaching, who are on call and who are in many cases working other jobs in the meantime. I am proud of them and I recognize the incredible feat that it is and priveledge that it is. To be a supply teacher is to be teaching.

But, it's not a fight i'm up for. I don't like selling myself and competing with others. I don't like the weight of the hoops that have to be jumped. Mostly, I can't wait that long for a classroom. I have always become quite attached to students, wondering if I could handle only having kids for a year at a time. There is something beautiful about the Waldorf method of having the same students from kindergarten to grade eight. You get to really know eachother, and grow together. You become a family. Clearly, it's not for everyone and it's not even an option in the public schools. At the very least I need to be at one school, to have the opportunity to bump into students I had the year before, to sometimes see them in the hallways. During practicum it was very difficult to leave, especially after the first one. It was a tease. Here I was with a school, a class. I was slowly integrating myself into the community there, just beginning to get to know other teachers and just starting to speak with parents when school let out - and suddenly, I was fired. Not really, but that's how it felt. It was a tease. I know that to be in different schools, with different principles, and students would wreck me. I wouldn't last, and I would probably abandon teaching.

So, then I'm left with private schools and alternative teaching options, like tutoring or running programs through libraries and museums. I've actually been excited about some of these options - but they haven't been here. And I just don't know if I should pick up and move to a city and start all over. It would be awesome to have good transportation and live the urban life once more (more on that another time) but to move for a part time or contract position would do nothing to help me settle- to help me stay!

and i know i need to stop leaving!

say thankyou - it changes everything!

"There is nothing like fear for disturbing perspective, and nothing like gratitude for restoring it.

-I'm not talking about the false kind that denies that you or anyone else is suffering. Nor the shadowy kind that depends on the truism that somebody, somewhere, is always worse off than you, nor the timid thankfulness that doesn't dare ask more from life than basic survival. I mean really appreciating what is in front of you right now even if you don't know if you can count on it tomorrow."

- Growing Dandelions (Kyran Pittman)

It's true. I know that when I am open to thankfulness or determined to be thankful, suddenly I see all the wonder that is around me. Just because I'm in a time of searching, doesn't mean I have to see every little thing as a clue or part of the process. I want to allow myself to see things as complete, as answers rather than riddles.

I have found a few answers here already and yet haven't really let them be the good in my heart that they could be. They are tangible things that have stopped me in my tracks and completely gathered me up in a life of their own. Being here was totally worth it, if only for this one sight, this one smell, this one sensation.

So far, I can remember three but the list is growing even as I write this.

Devoted Whiskey Jacks. Translucent Jelly Fish. The sweet smoke rising from a chimney inevitably coming from a woodburning stove.

These things I have never known before arriving here. They existed in books I never read, aquariums I visited and in fairytales or stories from days that are long gone, like when my grandparents parents were young.

There is more. I want to say the deer, but I met them in Japan. However, finding things of Asia in this place is utterly dazzling to me. Japanese maple leaves, smaller and brighter than ours, deer wandering calmly across green spaces reminding me of Nara park and the Cherry Blossoms that are soon to bloom - even knowing they will be apart of my life again is too much happiness.

my soul cries out.. or the significance of paint

I have long thought that if I could have a HUGE canvas and big buckets full to the brim with colours, and if I could THROW paint at the canvas, while screaming or crying,
probably both, that I would be healed.

That I would be all better!

I tried flinging paint from a regular sized paintbrush at a piece of paper stapled tothe wall..and
nothing happened..

perhaps it wasn't a big enough canvas..

perhaps it was because I didn't scream!

The Story so far..

I went to teachers college ( we're not suppose to call it that anymore), graduated and was offered a position teaching in Northern Manitoba.

"Welcome to the team!" or something like that, the sweetest words I had unknowingly been waiting for my entire life. I had done it, or had miraculously come to the place of being offered a full time position as an elementary school teacher. My own class, my own kids! I began to imagine meeting them and some days felt that I already had. Their faces floated before me, their eyes looking up quietly after the bustle of the everyday classroom activities. But, I let them down.

I never came to class.

My husband had an interview for a position in British Columbia. Accepting this job, would mean moving us both up North and never knowing the outcome of the interview. Had he been offered the job - my decision might have been easier to make, but this was an interview, an unknown, the idea of taking away his "chance" at a job and possibly a chance at a future for both of us was hard to think about. I would have everything, and he would do online studies? Could we stay there for a while, build a life, put down roots? or would it mean moving a year or two later? But, I would be a teacher!!! A real teacher!! My dream would become tangible. Our life could begin.

Staying up all night at my grandparents farm, I wrote two letters: one excitedly accepting the offer and the other regretfully, painfully declining. I cried and cried. I believed I had never been so torn in all my life. The next morning, I sent the one that said no.

and my husband had the interview, and was offered the job. We hugged, I was happy for him and happily confused about the upcoming move to Vancouver Island.

I've always felt, and still do, that there are certainly a lot worse places we could have found ourselves then this little piece of paradise...but is beautiful enough?

Finding myself in a small town city island place..I had a strong sense of not knowing where to begin. I knew only one thing.

I wanted to take an art class!

I was offered a Nanny position which was part time and would have been perfect. Not only was the Mother a teacher and the Father a writer, but they saw me -somehow- and cared about me finding my place in the Valley. I often wonder and mostly believe I made a huge mistake..even though I stayed up nights (again) and cried my eyes out (again) there was another job offer at the same time and I thought it was wise to go with it instead. I was extatic, I was going to be an art teacher! Suddently, everything was clear! I felt like God had not abandoned me. I was special, I was loved, I was going to have my cake and eat it too! This was the dream I had forgotten about, that I hadn't realized. Of course, I wanted to go to Art School after elementary school, but had not. I wanted to major in Theatre in University, but had not. I wanted to apply for an Art Education program instead of taking my B.Ed but had not. So many loses, so much pain, so much regret. I couldn't believe it! I didn't go to art school and here I was fully immersed in clay and painting and drawing and also with young kids! It couldn't be better..

...but it turned out that the job was more of a business and to be completely honest felt a little too communist..with everything having to be the same as all the other art schools since it was a chain and having less freedom to design the programming then I would have had as an elementary school math teacher. So I took a picture of myself in the programs tshirt looking like the world was about to end and all my dreams had been crushed, thought about the company slogan I was inspired by, and about the fact that it was a slogan.

and wrote this;

You cannot market a person

for what they have inside is greater than

the weight of a decal or the power of a company

Why do we listen when someone says that we must

shut away some part of ourselves, wear this uniform, say

these greetings?

Why do we feel that we have become a number

- a one amoung many - replaceable - expendable - invisible?

Why did someone tell the First Nation men and woman to line

up and how come they could not be told instead how amazing they were?

If you say we are nothing we will believe it.

I don't know why and I wish it could stop.

but here is something for you to remember

although you declare it and expect it

although you may believe you have done it.

you cannot market a person.

After this, confusion, I landed another perfect job, teaching EsL at a small school in the area. I loved the vision of the directors to have an experiential English school. There was so much that excited me and I was amazed to have found a multicultural connection in such a small place. What an honour and a priveledge. I quickly became overwhelmed and felt bullied by my students. I can't think about this without feeling sick. All I know is that something was wrong.

I quit -without notice- for the very first time in my life. I broke my own heart and walked away from what may have been an incredible and unique teaching career.

I have realized that loyalty has a dark side.I knew it was a problem, but it was while reading a Percy Jackson novel, that I found out it could be someone's kriptonite. It might very well, be my own.

I would have stayed for years at that job, being hurt and being the best robot version of myself, every couple of days I wake up compelled to call and ask for another chance. Yet, deep down I know that my heart was not in it. I hated myself for leaving. I still haven't forgiven myself.

Yet, for some reason, I am desperate to protect myself and to find a vocation where I don't perform incredibly, but where I exist fully. A place where I'm aloud to be me!

I'm not sure why I left, or at least that's what I keep saying. Perhaps, I fell apart because I wasn't ready for all that. I am always drawn to “all or nothing”positions where I am at the centre making everything work, but I couldn't have the spotlight on me. I couldn't, to be honest, even have a beam of light from a flashlight on me. Not right now, anyway, and not then. I needed to get away.. ... and so since December I have been in my apartment.

Beautiful days have gone by, I have had great times reading and experiencing revelation. I have even felt well, have twirled around and smiled out the window. But, I am not ready to be in the world. Wherever I go, I say too much or I say nothing and either way I get hurt. I feel SO much pressure to be SO much that I am not and do SO much that I cannot. I don't expect anyone to understand..because I can't explain it. I just, don't know.

So, as uncharacteristic as it might seen, I am a hermit. I am afraid of people.

I am especially afraid of myself.

Sometimes I cry, sometimes I feel only hate and anger, and sometimes I am at peace. I never know what I'm going to feel or how I'm going to react. I only know that I can't hide and that I will be completely transparent - which right now - is not a safe thing to be.

So.. I am back to where I was in July 2011, I know only one thing.

I want to take an art class.

Honestly, I want to enroll in an art program and there is a great one at a college nearby, but I have neither the portfolio of ark work that is required to apply- nor do I have the four thousand dollars that it takes to attend.

So, here I am. Knowing I'd love to start over and get an Art degree, be it design, fine art, writing or something I haven't even considered. I would love to meet other Artists and dream together of how to create and make the world better. I would love to study Art Therapy. I would love to run Art programs for children who can't afford it. I would love to be a full time Artist as my profession.

But, I don't have the money and I've put so much of my life into teaching. For now, it seems that finding work of somesort is important. I need to try and set aside all my wishes and hopes, and fear of commiting to the wrong thing, and just get a pay check.

I don't like money - as a goal, anyway. I don't know what it's like to have a part-time job.

I've never done that before.

Well, once, when I worked at the Bay over Christmas. That was terrible.I'm more of a vocation type. Anyone who works the cash, waitresses etc.. these so called "part time jobs" that any highschooler could do. I say, "you are magicians and geniuses!" I know I could never do that, and I am amazed and so very proud of anyone who can.

i wish they could know how amazing they are!

I am pretty scared to trust myself at all, but can't remain unemployed.

p.s. My journey is Much bigger than needing a job, and I know that finding work will not heal me, but it is a practical step in finding my place and something that will get me "out of the house" and into the world!

your value

I read the other day, that the Sabbath is the one time to be away from work, the one day
when you stop and realize that you are not a number, not a slave to any system, and most importantly NOT what you do!

Your value lies in who you are.

While I know this, and believe it is the essential message for all the children I come in contact with as an educator and all the people I come in contact with as a girl who says hi when she meets someone in passing on the street, I have not let myself accept it. At least not fully. I know I haven't because if I had – if I really believed I mattered right here, right now, without employment, far from friends and invisible to the town I'm in, then I'd be healed. I'd be fine. I'd be working on some secret dream, with a great big smile inside - and I would be free!!

It seems, you have to Let people love you. You have to Let God love you.

So, dearly beloved, because You are...

let yourself be loved.

it's not easy..but i'm gonna try

Fear is standing between me and my dreams. Fear I can't climb over.
Money too – is trapping me – but so are my good intentions and my beliefs.
I need to take each and every one of these things, place them carefully on an imaginary
table and throw my arms across the table knocking all of it to the floor.
It would even be good for some of the things to smash irreparably into dust
I need a clean table. I need to place only the true -the good -the lovely on it. I'm
too tired to search for myself and I don't even think that's a search worth taking because I could get lost in unanswerable things –because I don't think I could ever get myself – what i'm trying to do is just find enough of me to move forward – to live!

To breathe. To laugh.

What I fear is that if I don't heal – if I don't get hold of a life I'm happy to be
wasting my time at :) then, I will give up.

Giving up is easy – its not depression, it's not self harming,it's just a self hatred that will slowly turn all the hurts I carry into a darkness and uncaring sigh of, “oh well -no one ever said
life was good -and no one ever said that dreams come true – for so many life is literally a living hell! So,it is what it is, and at least there were some great times in the past."

I always thought it was selfish, to be happy, to follow your dreams. I have always just
tried to do everything for others and carry as much as I could. I have always placed myself in a place where I was literally holding up the ship. I once heard that great leadership is when you can leave and the organization or the people or the program carries on without you. If it all falls apart when you leave, something is wrong.

I guess, that's what I'm saying.. I hate that I'm not perfect. I hate that I'm only human.
I hate it. I want to be everything to everyone – and can't even let myself be loved.
Soooo, this is the great storm.. the heavy rain that you can't see through...and I look
forward to writing the date (day-month and year) that I am whole again!

just thinking about that day makes my eyes sparkle with excitement :)

just a little seed

in a sense, I have begun. For we begin in the invisible, something may come into being all at once but the idea, the thought, the process has been going on. Something is stirring, even if we don't know what that something is, nor what it will become.

So, I've been thinking of my self as a little seed.

" If I want potatoes for dinner tomorrow, it will do me little good to go out and plant potatoes in my garden tonight. There are long stretches of darkness and invisibility and silence that seperate planting and reaping."

- Eugene H Peterson

All of the steps are important - i have been planted, i am a little seed in the dark, deep, soothing brown earth, safe like a baby in a mothers womb - but like a baby, doing so much that except for ultrasound magic - goes unseen, and doing a lot that even ultrasound waves cannot detect..i'm incubating or perculating..mmm coffee..whatever is happening in this time under the ground, in the darkness is just as important as the first bright green shoot poping up through the earth.

i'm so excited to get to the sprouting part..but i can't rush it..time is ticking, time has flown, most days i feel like i'm out of time, that it is really much much too late to still be hidden underground, but i don't want to turn the hands until the alarm sound and i can't make the rooster crow.. so i'm trusting that i need all the time i've been given..and that it will be up when it's up..i'll probably realize the moment i know i'm pushing through the soft dirt and starting to sprout..until then.. time can roll on

in the beginning

..one has to accept the fact that they are a beginner. This is the hardest thing in the world to do, well not the hardest thing, i'm sure becoming an astronaut or raising four kids could be harder. ( i don't know if i like how constantly i contradict myself..sometimes it makes me laugh..but it is a constant interruption..sigh)

I want to sit down and paint a picture perfectly. I don't have time for years of training, the force - yes i also thought of StarWars- is too strong. I have to create -completely NOW!! The sad truth is that I can't even write a letter much less put a stamp on it and mail it off. Perfection is an enemy that stops you at the gate and reminds you that you can't do it all, so why even start. Not that i'm consciously aware of those thoughts, but i recently read an incredible book that has revealed so many things about me that now, i see everything!

So, I need to be perfect and I can't be perfect, I know I can't. So what do I be. I can't very well begin my day with, "I'm off to do something incorrectly!" If I am certain I will make a wrong decision, say the wrong thing, write the wrong word. How can I do anything? How can I move forward?

The answer is, I can't. I'm stuck! I'll admit it. Until I can admit that I'm a beginner and embrace, yup embrace that I can only do my own awkward version of living in my own unromantic way, sigh. then I very well could stay in this bed forever.

Every day that I haven't stepped out, feels like one too many. I know, it is time to begin.

Prologue

finally paint is everywhere.. this summer, or maybe even sooner in celebration of my friends experience in Korea, i will throw powdered paint around..i am So excited..the only thing missing is the friend and the location!

the explanation for the utter joy that this background is bringing me will become aparent very soon. as a heads up i feel i should warn you that i do not have a clear intention in writing this blog, other than to be writing with the side effects of figuring out some stuff along the way. secondly, you should know that i prefer lower case letters and am well aware of other mistakes in spelling and especially format. i know it's incorrect, even wrong, but i find it freeing somehow!

finally, in trying to be honest or perhaps being unable to be any other way - believe me, i've tried - many posts will be sad or even angry..at the end of the day, and at the beginning too, i am mostly okay. thankful in a way for the sadness while looking forward to throwing it off and stepping into the sunshine again..but don't be alarmed..i don't want to die..in fact it's quite the opposite, i'm looking for a life that's cohesive with me.. i'm trying to come true!

if you wonder what that might look like..i'm happy to have you along on the journey..very happy as i feel that this is something worthwhile..

oh. you should also know that being public terrifies me - it took me years to get on the facebook train..and most days, for many reasons i want off.. this blog doesn't feel safe..but i'm hoping that you will be kind.

to those of you who are lost in your own transitions, take heart, you can write a blog and i will cheer for you :)

* April 7th 2021

This has not yet happened. I want to throw powdered paint around so very much. Maybe for my forty third birthday.