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,

DJ

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,

DJ

Living in the Hidden Dimension

I put together a slide show last night for a Christmas Feast we had at our church.

This photo was last.  

We were celebrating how God can show up anywhere at any time, sometimes when we least expect it.  I shared some photo images of where I had journeyed, and how I suddenly came across a beautiful spiritual experience in a place I didn't expect.

I found myself at the Coco Bongo Club in Cancun with my camera, watching an amazing acrobatic depiction of the Passion of Christ movie playing on their multiple screens around the club.  It felt like I was right there in an old Roman arena, surrounded by high tiers of seating, layers upon layers of people screaming and clapping as these men dropped down onto the dance floor.  I remember being amazed that they let me through security with my camera at all, and captured this shot with little or no thought to technical settings or point of view.  I just snapped in my enchanted state of the moment.  It landed up winning first place, in my designated category, in the Caribbean Travel  & Life Magazine Photo Contest I entered every year that I travelled south.

The funny twist to this story is that the projection we had at the church would not pick up any pink tones in my photos.  We hadn't had time to run through the show beforehand, so after a long afternoon of putting together my small piece of art, my photos all came out with a blue undertone!  I was crushed.  There were vivid sunsets, landscapes, and artistic visual scenes I wanted to share in the full beauty of how I had en-captured them.  After I shared this frustration with a few close friends, they were surprised to hear the photos weren't meant to be that way.  They thought them very interesting and uniquely artistic.  

As I thought of this later, I realized this also represented a perspective of my life here in the small town of L.A.  For the past going on almost four years now, I not only have found a safe harbour to rest and re-alighn myself, but have also been hidden away to some degree, not fully projecting the beauty of who I am or what I will contribute to my world.  I needed to become very small and quiet.  The people  here accept my hue as it is, not aware of the visual I see in my mind and or feel in my soul of my colourful destiny.  This has been a gift and a curse.  For I know what is waiting to burst out of my heart, but timing is of the essence and I must wait and be content with the view from this projection.

If you too find yourself in a hidden state, don't fret.  There is no way your light can stay hidden, unless you suppress it yourself. There will be unexpected strategic sign posts along the way to help, if you're looking for them.  The key is to trust and keep the faith in what is unseen.  The hidden picture of who you were truly created to be is waiting to burst free into the open, and bring creative beauty to those around you.  That is your spiritual magic.  When the time is right, it will shine.

Merry Christmas,

DJ

The Art of Waking Up

I am reading a very enlightening book right now about uncovering the Art (with a capital A) I was made to live.

I am aware we all have artistic gifts, even if they can be somewhat hidden for some, and far too exposed for others. 

Some gifts are hidden in the kitchen, some are traversed in the studio, and some are even sunk into numbers.  The author presents her argument that no matter where one finds their "life", THAT is the arena they are to present their Art.  This then becomes less about the external circumstance and more about the internal divine delight in all of us.

"Who is the Artist?  You want to know the meaning of life?  This is your highest calling:  You are called into the dynamic co-creation of the cosmos.  This breath is your canvas and your brush.  These are the raw materials for your art, for the life you are making.  Nothing is off limits.  Your backyard, your piano, your paintbrush, your conversations, Rwanda, New Orleans, Iraq, your marriage, your soul.  You're making a living with every step you take.  --Jon Forman"

I like it!

The reason I like that is because I have struggled with this very question most of my life.  Growing up we're all asked the all-encompassing question of what we want to be when we grow up.  Have mercy!  I hated that question.  I mean why do we need to DO anything?  Can't we just find a good book and read?  Won't that do?  One day I thought this, another day I felt that.  I was not one to really have a set plan for my life.  Ironically my life then became exactly that, unfocused and filled with variables that shifted on any given day.

Now, in this pivotal point of my life where I am at a crossroads of not only what to sink my feet into but who really belongs to these size 10 AA shoes, I am intrigued to ask that age-old question from a whole new perspective.  Not just what will I contribute to the world and my community as a certain creative gift, but what kind of Artist will I be inside my soul?  What resonates within each current circumstance that defines me uniquely?  How does my response to life reflect my understanding of my Art within?

When will I wake up to my Art?

And then it seemed to happen, effortlessly.  This morning I literally woke up, then WOKE UP.  I saw the dream of my Art laid out in its perfect form.  I saw the various pieces of what has always been placed inside my heart and soul, come together in a beautiful tapestry of living.  I always knew those pieces existed, but the fragments seemed disjointed until now.  Parts of a story that didn't quite fit until I recognized the heroine within each piece...myself.

Waking up can take time and determination.  It won't always come softly in the early morning, but sometimes only after long dark nights of the soul where you battle with yourself to truly know yourself.  I am only now truly waking up to the Art of my soul.  I'm not sure how the journey will unfold but I am willing to be brave and start making a map that shows where I began and where I hope to finish...with my Art shining bright.

Until next time

DJ

Rest Patiently for the Soul

Dragonfly at Rest

As the summer comes to a close, I look back on my last post and realize that not only did I retreat from my writing goals this season, which was the exact opposite of my intent, but I retreated from others in my community, which was also not my intent.  

What is it about our convictions, vows, or determinations that can actually circumvent the very thing we desire? Some believe its a setup for our own fall so don't bother, just live in each moment to truly enjoy the journey and each surprise that shows up.  

I do believe I can struggle with this side of the coin more than the other.  Don't plan?  Don't set an agenda for a purposed outcome?  Are you kidding?!!!  Who can live that way?  Surprisingly many do and with great rest. 

On the other hand, as I let my intent go this summer I felt a certain loss in the outcome.  Or is it just the loss of my expectations of the outcome?  Hmmmm.

So now that the summer is over and I did not complete my creative courses, or write more pages in my novel, or engage in more BBQ parties in the backyard with friends, I stand at the crossroads.  I can either allow personal regret to set in or rest patiently for the next season of surprises.  I am choosing rest!  I am choosing patience towards what is presented before me in its perfect timing, perspective and presentation instead of what I could push through according to my own agenda.  I will allow the spirit to dictate the soul, not the busy mind of my limited perspective.

I am also choosing to look back with gratitude on what I did enjoy, accomplish and engage in.  Laughing with my daughter on weekends, watching shooting stars with my best friend, sharing my personal story at campfire to a group of young women while holding a dollar-store sunflower fly-swatter, voicing frustration at a TV screen with my dad over football, and the beautiful quiet mornings on the porch before work.  Should there be more than that?  Have I become so accustomed to some kind of internal production mode that there has to be more to my summer memories than those?

I am willing to concede I know nothing about what this day should hold, although can still be moved by moments of accomplishments, achieved through my diligence and perseverance.  If I don't write, I won't see my novel done.  If I don't practice with my camera, I won't become proficient in my photography.  If I don't engage in relationships, I won't have any.  The challenge then is when and how do I motivate (or not) myself in the flow of my day to engage in these desires?  For when I actually take part in their delights I am in bliss, but sometimes the process in getting there is painful!

I know there are those who are not complicated by this quandary.  People who live right in my house whom are driven in each moment to accomplish the task, achieve the goal, track their progressive creativity, pursue their relationships diligently.  I admire them.  I finally concluded though, that I cannot be exactly like them, for my spirit longs for something unique.  Something more soft, more blue, more quiet.  Moments where just watching geese fly through the air is sufficient for my day's accomplishments.  Where a cup of coffee in the early morning is my total achievement.  Where a few chosen words on a page will suffice to the completed novel of my heart.  Does that make me any less accomplished than the driven spirit?  No.  Each in its extreme is out of balance.  Each has its own dark pits of despair and delights of conquest. 

So then my conclusion on this quiet Sunday comes to this: Find my own balance and rest patiently for the soul to quicken.  Don't condemn my own heart for either its quiet or its desire to produce.  To be at rest with each moments' fullness, then when ready, spread my wings and fly to the stars in whatever task, desire or accomplishment that moment brings.  As each moment completes itself perfectly through my poet's soul, I will find rest, for I will be perfectly at peace with my own living compass.

Then of course, finish off the day with a lovely glass of chocolate wine and a soft laugh, just in case I took my day much too thoughtfully!

Until next time,

DJ

What I Learned in June....Three Dimensional

One of my favourite blogs, Chatting at the Sky, has put out a viral call to her followers to give feedback on lessons learned in June.  Of course I could not resist!

Apparently she was not necessarily asking for the deep and epic revelations of personal truth (we all know I can digress into that pit easily enough!) but the little simple things that make me laugh, cause me to ponder, or become a turning point in the journey.

Here's my top three D's for June:

1.  Despicable Me:  Light....Bulb.  If you haven't watched this movie, as I hadn't until last night with a few mothers/daughters while eating copious amounts of chips and drinking red wine, you are missing out on an adorable visual delight.  My favourite part was when Gru, the evil dad, kept saying "Light....Bulb" in a very slow and deliberate way, so that none of his minions could miss the very depth of his revelation!  Ha....Larious.  The little girls were beyond cute and reminded me of a few precious children/nieces of my own. Who knew I had missed out on this delightful tale this whole time?!  Looking forward to Despicable Me 2 next week.

2.  Dripping Kitchens:  I'm not one to freak out on just any small whim (ok, well not as much lately I should say) but when you come home from watching a riveting NHL finals game with your dad and daughter only to find your kitchen ceiling dripping water through the ceiling fan, there is cause for a little panic!  I started imagining the ceiling crashing down in the middle of the night with sparks of flame shooting from the electrical wiring starting a house fire while I was ensconced in my bed dreaming of the Caribbean beach.  As I pulled out pots and towels, I realized that nothing is really stable or solid in this world.  You can be as prepared as you want, and still discover a crack in the veneer that will tear your security into shreds, until the only thing left to do is take your imagination and go to bed.  

3.  Days Gone By: A fragile warmth has come over me these days when I'm reminded of my past.   Little flashes of people and moments that I enjoyed.  Take movies for instance.  Who didn't love Michael J Fox in the 1985 classic Back to the Future?   I saw an old picture of a boy I used to know in High School, and even though we weren't close, we hung out in the same circle of friends.  It felt nice to see an old familiar face.   I enjoyed dinner with my oldest girlfriend a few weeks ago, and as we reminisced about past adventures,  I was amazed how good it felt to hear how she remembered me.  I cherish my past.  Now THAT is a huge revelation for me.  There is large amount of pain, wounds, regrets that I have only and ever wanted to erase from my past these last few years.  I am coming more to terms with what was, what is, and what is yet to come.  I also enjoyed a weekend with my second oldest girlfriend in Radium, and again the theme was to look back, see the gold vein through the rock then move into a new and fresh way of loving and caring for each other. A refreshing change (Thanks Girlfriend!).

Thanks for Chatting.

Until next time,

DJ

For Such A Time As This....Facing Reality

I have been quiet these past few weeks, pondering my need to write this blog, and what message it should hold. As I sat in the stillness of this reassessment, the waters of torrential rain flooded the city I once loved and lived in for the longest period of my life.  Calgary was blindsided by a deluge that has never been seen before and hopefully will never again.


I had moved from Calgary to Lethbridge 3 years ago, but still felt the thread that tied me to all that I had experienced and embraced there.  Sure, I had lots of grief, many heartbreaks, yet still called it home.  Lethbridge became my safe harbour, where I nursed my wounds, regained my footing and began to hope again that there was a reason I was here "for such a time as this."

Recently I read the most inspiring blog entry from a beloved writer who understood what is needed when heroes are hard to find and there is loss all around us.  

There is a book in the bible called Esther.  Its my favourite story because it depicts a young woman who goes from complete obscurity, to becoming the Queen of Persia.  A biblical Cinderella story. Except there is so much more substance to this epic tale than the fairytale Disney has put on film.  For not only does she move into the palace and become the second most influential person in the kingdom, but she uses this position to help save a whole generation of her people from becoming annihilated. 

The key to her heroism is that she hasn't told the king who her people are (oops.  Rule #1: always tell your new beau about your family background so he doesn't have to find out in a crisis situation!) AND she has to go before the king uninvited (which is a BIG no-no) to intercede for her people without telling him first any details.  This girl is in a tight spot!  But she doesn't back down.  She takes the high road and plunges in to play her part "for such a time as this" and shows what her true substance is all about.  Even unto death.  Luckily the king accepts her request and she was able to tell him her tale of woe. (If you want the full accounting, go find a bible and read Esther in the Old Testament, after Nehemiah and before Job. Amazing story!)

There is a similar theme throughout the media these days regarding the heroes of Southern Alberta.  One is even dear to my family.  He decided to go down to High River and offer his support, his strong back, even in the face of possible danger.  He chose to go.  He left the high ground and went down to the flood lands to play his part in the story of his time.

The question I have been asking all week is what is my part?  Where am I to step in and contribute my personal role? Because that's what we all want, isn't it?  To be the hero of our story?  To step in when the odds are stacked against us and we feel small in such a large cost?  To go when we're afraid and help those who are in need?  Or are we too comfortable?  Do we like our distant sympathy, not wanting to put feet to the feat.

This blog is "for such a time as this".  Its to encourage, to feed the soul with truth, to look fear in the face and say, "I see you, but I'm going anyway!" To get off the Italian couch and head back to the foothills of Alberta and stand with those who are knee deep in the flood, facing the annihilation of their homes, their land, their lives, and still not give up.  

I'm no hero.  But I am part of the Esther Generation that will go into the court and face the king, fighting for those who are outside my gates, who need a voice to speak on their behalf.  To stand with them when they face tragedy, to see their anguish and encourage them to have hope.

For what better purpose could this blog have than to feed and nourish the soul with words towards hope for a new day?  Hope for strength.  Hope for community.  Hope for a helping hand in the storm.

Until next time,

DJ 
(I am letting go of my imaginary story and entering into the reality of who I am "for such a time as this")