LIFECYCLE 68

 

BIRTHDAY 68: defining the lifeCycle

A few days ago I put some thought into how life and living have been going. It seems that the end of a birth year cycle is really the best time to reflect, assess and evaluate the pluses and minuses, and prepare a vision for the next 365 days.

Putting together a ‘year in review’ video slideshow was a great exercise. It helped me to  visualize the people, places and parts of the year that strengthened my resolve to bloom, build and blend all things that define me, defend me and describe me. I am not a techie so the project took much patience, push and pull, pleasure and pain, passion and pride. I kept at it until the early hours of a morning, determined to get it done — that in itself is very telling. I don’t give up easily. Just before turning off the computer I remember saying “I am happy now”. I walked upstairs, slid under the covers, placed my head on the middle of my favourite pillow, and slipped into a deep sleep almost instantly. It was two a.m.

The next morning I reviewed the “final” and tweaked it a wee bit more with a bit of musical accompaniment. I did one version with a favourite French song by Edith Piaf and the other version is simply instrumental with some subtle drumbeats. Drumbeats are like heartbeats.  I envisioned the finale as a delicious, freshly made “everything bagel” probably because by then I was hungry, and I knew the video contained the best contents I could find to fill two minutes of film! 

So, on the eve of the clock striking twelve on November 24th, I received feedback from individual video recipients — a lot of feedback. I applied their recommendations and I knew the video was then ready for full release. I called it: Celebrating Life and Living On. It accomplished a goal.

But, despite all the excitement that video gave to me, the biggest surprize and greatest joy by far, that birthday eve, was an awaiting recorded message from my Great Grand Niece Sophia who lives in Perth, Australia! Imagine hearing the sweet sound of a child’s almost four year old voice, someone whom I have spent time with only three times so far, singing happy birthday to me! She wasn’t shy; she wasn’t lacking confidence; she pronounced each word carefully and clearly, and with spirit. My heart jumped with joy as I listened to it almost five times in a row. I held my arms up high to SkyWorld, pressed my hands together, did a pirouette and watched the stars shine. Sophia is one of my earthly stars!

That night I slipped into my flannel pjs early, sat up in my bed with five pillows behind me and my monster pillow resting on my shins. I did some quiet meditation as I said goodbye to the year that was, and hello to whatever is to come, and drifted into sleep mode until the first phone call rang in at eight am. It was my younger brother who always seems to be the first to call. I’m glad he waits until 8! — 8 in my timezone!

The rest of the birthday morning was mostly spent reading and acknowledging all the wonderful best wishes messages on various social media options, plus emails. This quiet time becomes an opportunity to realize and feel the love around me and within me.  I think that is the power horse behind all my excitement and energy to continue to branch out, bloom and cycle on. I can’t think of a better way to explain it but to say that there is a lot of Qi (life force energy) in me. I embrace that mystical power with determination and without reservation, as my wheels keep moving me forward slowly and easily, at my own pace, confidently. (Qi is more than just a good scrabble word!)

With only an hour left to spare on that morning, I made my favourite breakfast of cappuccino, French Toast with real French Canadian maple syrup and crispy bacon. I then showered, dressed, jumped into the car to pick up a friend, and drove to a baby shower in a city close by. It felt good to get away from birthday excitement for awhile, socialize with lots of familiar people from days gone by, then return home to look around to see what’s behind me, in front of me, and imagine images of what’s to come. I could feel my heart smile.

Life’s been very good for me in the past few decades and I take none of it for granted. I want to explain this in the form of a metaphor since I love metaphors and this one has just the right timing: 

I can see my lifecycle has a lot to do with the “cycler” in me; yes, I am a cyclist, a casual, simple cyclist. Cycling is my favourite pastime. I absolutely love it as an activity, and I use it as a metaphor to accentuate or appreciate and explain who I am. 

I keep the tires firm and wheels turning, slowly, quietly and confidently. There is only one direction to go and that is forward. I never race or hurry or sweat. I stop often to notice, enjoy and appreciate people, places and things along the way. I wear a helmet to protect my brain from illogical nonsense and wear bright clothing to help the almost completely blind see. My sometimes not so subtle bell startles the hearing challenged and causes them to think hard. I regularly check the air in my tires through meditation exercises, to ensure balance, and my saddle supports me when engaged in open and honest discussions with people who seriously want to be a strong spoke in my wheels. I accept that sometimes I have to let go of some air and other times I have to add more. I do this to avoid flats, as I have had enough of those! Looking carefully, from time to time, into the mirror affixed to the handle bar, helps life too.

I also attribute my well paved multipurpose cycling path (my diverse interests) to having great family and friends who keep my pedals charged with confidence and feelings of encouragement and support. 

Cycling and “cycling” both as a metaphor and a thing I love to do, are key to my happiness and to my moving forward —  for that, as well as my family and friends, the year in review video and Sophia singing so sweetly, I am very grateful for all that I have, as I cycle purposefully and optimistically to more of the same as year #69 unfolds.

Celebrating life and living on …. Thank you to everyone who travels along through easy and sometimes not so easy times, slow and steady, balancing the best we can, keeping our chain links well oiled and the vélo moving forward, together.

John Horgan RIP

 

Who needs Celery?

 

NO CELERY!

One of the realities of living flush with a vibrant tiny forest is from time to time Tulip receives an email cautioning her about bears spotted roaming around her neighbourhood. 

Such a caution is appreciated although it sets her structured sequential mind into a tailspin. Everything on her ‘to do’ list that day required outdoor movement, and much of that movement would not be pleasant if a big, brown, beautifully furred four legged wild animal decided to participate!

So, what to do?

Well as what would happen if driving along a slippery highway requires her to slow down, assess the situation and perhaps follow a detour, rather than put her life at risk of being struck, stuck and lame, she changed gears and put her cozy slippers back on her feet to execute Plan B.

Yes, Plan B. Tulip always has a Plan B. It is kind of like a way to ensure something more is worth doing since life is like a mosaic of endless possibilities. No slouching here.

So on that day, she re-entered her kitchen, opened the fridge door and the freezer door, and pulled out everything necessary to prepare a nice big, steaming hot pot of homemade chicken vegetable soup. It seemed like the perfect project for a cool, grey, rainy day.

With all the provisions set out in front of her, she noticed she did not have any celery.  She started pacing and pacing. She wondered how a soup could possibly be fabulous without celery, and how could she get her hands on some right away.  

Well the first answer was to just text the neighbour. He is a very friendly, accommodating type, and if he had any celery, he would gladly hand over a stalk. 

There is something about Tulip that makes it very hard to ask anyone for help. It is crazy and dumbfounding but, instead of just asking, she chooses to go ahead with making the soup with what she had, and hopes it reaches her quality expectations.

She places her red dutch oven on the big stove burner, adds the accumulation of saved vegetable and chicken stocks. It fills the pan to about 3/4 full. Perfect.  Once the liquid is about to boil, she adds the items that need to cook the most: carrots and asini di pepe. While that is happening, she cuts up the previously frozen cooked chicken, cauliflower, kale, asparagus, and corn; followed by the fresh chives, parsley, cilantro and garlic. She adds a bit of Maggi and some drops of Frank’s Red Hot sauce, salt, pepper and hot paprika. The house smells fabulous, and she again thinks about the missing celery.

“Just let it go; you don’t have to have celery. You don’t have celery! Try something new — challenge the disappointment and prove there is another way.”

She remembers any number of people in her life have said that statement to her over decades. In the earlier days she would rant, swear, curse, shun wild animal warnings and go out and get the damn celery.  Since then, each time this frustration happens she takes a breath, in through the nose and slowly out through the mouth, a few times, to calm the disappointment and to feel okay about trying something new. 

“Who needs celery?”, she asked, to which I replied: “You did, and  simply asking ‘the friendly, always willing to accommodate neighbour’ a question, might well have worked; or not, putting Plan A (with celery) and Plan B (without celery) on equal footing, luckily with, in this case,  equal results.”

“Yes, I’ve dodged another bullet you mean.”

Making soup without celery was a definite huge step forward, in some ways. And, after smelling the aroma of all those wonderful flavours, she knew the soup would be fabulous. It was, but next time if she needs some ‘sugar’, she will reach out and be mentally ready for either reply — at least that is the plan!

Bon appétit!

.

WHEELING THE MEDICINE WHEEL FORWARD

 

Wheeling along the Blooming Path

When I was once invited to observe a Médecine Wheel ceremony under a full moon on the Island of Aruba, I surprised myself and immediately said YES! Sitting outside, surrounded by warm, clean ocean air, around a bunch of people who were equally as keen, seemed intriguing and harmless and, quite frankly, irresistible. It became a most memorable Island experience and one that I would do again.

I know some people in my life reacted with concern and reservations and, as has become my mantra about negativity, jealousy and envious human behaviour, I hold my head high choosing to not be swayed by combatants. The first Medicine Wheel experience enlightened me, enriched me, inspired and intrigued me to the point of wanting to know more about this very ancient form of self help, untoxic medicine.

There is a great deal of metaphorical definition to the design of a wheel. I could probably do a 10,000 word dissertation about that since I love metaphors. As you discover one, you then discover one under that one, and another under that one, and it can go on and on, and take you further ahead in understanding. It’s a skill I learned from trying to conquer the incredibly metaphorical brain set of Canadian author and poet Margaret Atwood! Her writing makes my brain go around and around, but after each spin I feel I move further ahead in understanding. My challenge with her is to not let her defeat me!

Naysayers and people who stick with reservations about anything new or nontraditional or nonmainstream, kind of live a stuck lifestyle. Their wheel has square edges and does not move forward. They are set in their ways and just will not open up their world to thinking outside their box or even opening up their box for some fresh new air — not even a little.

I like fresh air. I definitely like fresh air. Fresh air is blooming medicine.

Let’s start by talking about the word medicine. The word medicine actually means “healing power” or “healing pathway” …the definition has nothing to do with the use of actual drugs to overcome a medical, mental, physical or emotional health deficit. “Medicine” is a  method or pathway to healing. Some methods use drugs and others do not.

No community values and honours a Medicine Wheel more than our indigenous peoples and now that more of our general population has begun to understand and appreciate the indigenous file, more people are opening up to embracing indigenous history, culture, traditions and problem solving methodologies. No example stands out more than the Medicine Wheel — a pathway to healing and a way to better understand life and living.

Sitting quietly around a medicine wheel requires an open mind. It requires a trust between your mind and your thoughts, and a willingness to sense a connection with the magnetism as experienced between the sun, moon, stars and earth. That magnetism impacts humans, plants and animals … we see it in our flora and our fauna, because we know without the power of the sun, moon and stars, we would have no flora nor fauna; but we tend to fear or dismiss any such connection with humanity. The concept is unfamiliar or, for some, unconventional and therefore dismissed as silly, dumb or flicked aside as an annoyance. Box closed.

Box open: the wheel is a full circle — it represents the directional elements of north, south, east, west. The whole of our earth, including humans, is impacted by the behaviour of the sun, moon and stars, with sunrises and sunsets, and diverse weather events, and there is a very real dependence or relationship or connectivity between all four. The circle shape  represents the cycle of life, a full life of breathing from the moment of our birth to the instance of our death, from solstice to solstice, day to night and night to day, evolution and revolution, eclipse to eclipse. 

The circle/wheel also  metaphorically represents the movement of moving forward, taking us further ahead instead of staying in one spot — if we let it; just like how the earth, moon, sun and stars relate to each other, refresh and keep moving. If they stop moving, we stop moving! If their relationships fail, so do ours. 

The whole philosophy behind the medicine wheel is that there is a connectivity between us and them. And, as such, it’s a sacred connected place on Earth, on the earth beneath our feet, carefully and thoughtfully made from earthly matter by humans, for humans to embrace that solar and terrestrial relationship, to express gratitude and appreciation, to restore confidence and optimism, erase uncertainties and anxieties, push away negativity, pull in positivity, commit to helping Mother Nature,  and to better  understand life and living. (Just like how some people do the same in church, temple, synagogue, ashram etc)

Within the healing circle there are subcircles. One depicts four animals that are known to have traits of wisdom, balance, perseverance, healing. (Not all medicine wheels depict the same animals) Basically the role of the participant is to mentally connect with the animal’s strong trait and try to let its power have a positive impact. It’s all very spiritual and personal, and can be very impactful if you let it — allowing it is easy, when you open the box.

The experience, power and teachings of the Medicine Wheel are deeply embedded in community and tradition, symbolism and metaphor. It is definitely an “open the door” secure, cerebral exercise in personal truth, trust and honesty, connectivity and reciprocity — personally enlightening, enriching and powerful;  peaceful, respectful and relaxing. A different way to bloom.

PONDERING POETRY

 

PONDERING POETRY

I came home from a brunch social with friends the other day, to a lovely heartfelt landline phone message from a long time friend, expressing her heartfelt appreciation of a collection of poetry I put together recently. She was the first person to receive a copy and, up to now, the only person. I listened to her message twice, once standing up and the next sitting down. My heart was definitely smiling and eyes watery. Of all people in my life whom I felt would truly read, understand and react honestly, she did not disappoint.

I have always loved creating poems to express feelings, observations and predictions. Sometimes my thoughts are abstract, my ideas peculiar, my dreams over the top but, whatever the reason, my mind loves to select one idea, create a theme, purpose, rhythm and, most often, some kind of rhyme. Not all poems need rhythm or rhyme, but all of them have reason.

Poetry has always been a difficult subject for school teachers to teach and the ones I had tended to keep that Unit to the end of the school year, when time was running out and excitement of school ending was at the forefront of students’ minds. Understandably, today, it is tough to find people of my generation who know how to approach poetry, understand it or appreciate it.

So, a few months ago, I took a big dusty binder off my bookshelf. It was full of plastic sheets in which I had stored hundreds of poems. I reread them and decided it was time to do something more with them; but, not before taking one additional step back — energizing awareness about the power of poetry.

Although the poetry curriculum may have been an after thought for teachers, and dull and boring, complicated and cerebrally stressful for students, 😥, — and difficult for either to place its value in everyday life — we were very young back then and really not ready to approach it with an open mind. We had too many other things on our minds during puberty and relationship building.

As a young adult, I secretly took a liking to things that were generally not popular: French/English bilingualism, Pierre Elliot Trudeau, politics, refinishing wood furniture, liverworst, sardines, Margaret Atwood and creative writing.  

Everyone who knows me knows Canadian author and poet, Margaret Atwood, is a leader in Canadian literature, and her prose and poetry thrive on the unusual in terms of style and content. Many in my circles cast her work aside as too weird and too odd. I label that human reaction as being neurologically stressed, and walking away from a challenge. A cop-out. After all, look at her pedigree now!

Finally in the 21st century, people of all walks of life, all ages, all creeds, are taking note and realizing Margaret is a voice worth noting. More brains are opening up to having challenging cognitive experiences and enjoying thinking beyond simple and obvious, branching out into the more complex and realizing there is more to poetry than just words on paper that sometimes rhyme, sometimes have rhythm, but always have interesting and intriguing messages to ponder and discuss.

I know poetry will never be a best seller, but just the idea of getting more people to give themselves a challenging cerebral exercise, now and then, away from gadgets, devices and media, just seems like good self-help medicine, a good diversion, a good breathe in and breathe out exercise, and a great medium of expression, interpretation and genius!