Sunday, March 30, 2014

A Pillow for My Head

Why do I have a photo of a pillow?

Because lately I've been thinking about going 'home' and when I saw this pillow at a cute little store in Pigeon Lake, I felt it represented my feelings about home perfectly.  

Where is home? I'm not sure yet.

Do you ever feel like you're waiting for something that you've never yet known but you believe you'll recognize it when it arrives?  I've often been told this is a fantasy world that I create in my imagination and not to expect it to show up in my reality.

I'm not buying it.

If I can feel or imagine it, it could manifest.  If I can be drawn to Canadian Geese for no earthly reason, over and over as if always for the very first time, then there is an unwritten code deep in my soul that doesn't come from a logical explanation.  If I can feel the ecstasy of the ocean waves just by closing my eyes and know that there is something deep inside me that is intricately a part of the never-ending ebb and flow of its pull, then I can believe in the beauty of something unknown that was meant just for me.  

Like the pillow.  Perfect colours put together to draw my attention and remind me of a place I have yet to create.  A home that will ultimately reflect all that I love, a place to rest my head and build memories with my children and their children.  Where a fantasy world becomes real.  My fantasy of home.

Until next time,


Sunday, March 23, 2014

On Any Given Sunday

Sunday, Feb 9th

Today our family is celebrating my sister's birthday.  Its not her true birth day, but we had to find some time that worked for a family of 13.  This is not an easy task!

I have so many memories of her, like a river that flowed in and out of my small world, yet rippling larger than any other influence.

Relationships usually don't go as planned.  Friendships you thought would be around forever suddenly disappear, parents who were to watch your children grown up suddenly die, marriages that were supposed to be built on a solid foundation suddenly crumble.  I have been reminded of this more so lately as I have watched my own daughters suddenly appear all grown up and ready to begin their own lives.  Lives that will keep me more in the peripheral, than knee deep in the mix. It went by so quickly, especially when they moved away with their dad for a few years as children.  How hard that was.  Being far apart, and not knowing how to pull them back.  Not knowing how to reach out in separation and miles of wounds.  Now, of course, I can see all the answers.  I know what should have been done, but regrets won't bring back the moments.   I wish I could impress on these two precious souls the importance of taking care in each moment.  Don't let your spiritual guard down for a moment!  Time will steal anything it can grab in the oblivious blinding of mundane living.  Then I sit back and wonder if through all our family fragments, they understand this more profoundly than I ever did.

As I begin to move towards a new stream of living my own life,  split from my sister, I am going through the same metamorphosis.  I look around at the children I live with, and imagine not seeing their faces when I wake up or when I get home.  I think of the late night giggles with Sistah, after everyone has gone to bed, that would then need to be done over the phone instead of around the kitchen island.  There are the hugs after tearful revelations; someone next to me that just knows when I need a shoulder.  How will I take all this into my own little world?  Will there be holes where now these heart strings sing or will I find there will be other songs that show up?  I don't believe I will ever lose this strain of my song.  This has been my Still Point; the rest in my melody where I found my voice again.  She has been my rest, even as we re-aligned into a new and loving relationship, groaning through some transitional periods.  She has become the nurturing mother I had missed for so long after mine passed away and I felt bereft of foundation.  Now I will "leave home", never forgetting, always returning to enjoy the bond I have forged.  

Sunday, March 23

I realized I left this last post without putting it to blog.   On any given Sunday I find myself drawn to this screen and the private couch of my thoughts.  Sometimes it remains hanging, as I fall asleep in my life and forget to wake up to the delight of writing.  Today I am back on the couch, warm beverage in hand, ready to remember why I first started writing; to find a safe landing where I can open up my imagination in food for thought.  To dig deeper into life "behind the curtain".  Maybe there needs to be more fun on the couch with belly laughs and quirky characters to enjoy? Maybe there should be more words about mystical tales, or time travel?  Maybe historical accountings of long lost inheritance?  I find there are so many ways to write down the imagination!

Who knows what these minutes of engaging SHOULD be!  I only know what they land up being, and for that I am grateful, however they arrive.  They are a gift.  I look forward to opening them up on any given Sunday, and share them with anyone who may too want to enjoy a mindful rest on the couch.

Untel next time,