FREEDOM

It is the fearful person who thinks this is about a vaccine. The ones that think life is black and white, monochromatic.

No.

 It's about Freedom. Freedom to choose. Freedom for all.

For me it is the freedom to decide what legacy I want to be a part of and leave behind for future generations.

Just comply and you're free, is what they say?

No.

How free did you feel when your child couldn't have a graduation? They spent the last 4 months of their senior year tied to a computer. No celebrations, no last hurrah before they head off on their own.

How Free did you feel when your kids couldn't have a birthday party? When they couldn't hang with their friends? Play outside at the playground? How free are the after effects of that? 

How free does it feel for them to be left in a pool of anxiety and fear if they cough or sneeze that they will have to go and have  a stick shoved up their nose? No birthday parties, sports, extracurricular activities, sleepovers, or play dates.

How free does it feel that when they finally get to go to school they get to learn segregation. Divided by grade and class. No hugging, no high fives, no passing an apple to the friend that doesn't have a lunch. The other, they are told, is a threat to their safety, and they are a threat to their teacher and everyone else. 

Let us not deny the social implications. The impact on their social skills and speech development.

How free is that?

How Free is it when you're having to do your university/college online? Interesting that your tuition fee didn't reflect that. Less than half the university/ college experience for full price. How worth it does it seem now?

How Free did you feel when you couldn't go to work? You had to shut your business because it wasn't deemed essential? 

How free did you feel not being able to have  a simple hair cut? When your seniors couldn't go for their weekly wash and set? When they finally get to go, there's 4 months of cheap hairspray to try and wash out. How hygienic is that!?

How free did it feel to be locked up in a seniors home that you pay dearly for, and you are unable to see your family, friends, go outside, play cards, socialize. Your only connection is the staff dressed in Hazmat suits for your 'safety'. A literal jail that you are paying to be in.

How free did you feel not being able to be your loved ones as they were taking their last breaths? The last sight of this world is of a stranger who's face they can't see, hand they can't touch, kiss they can't have. Passing on denied those last precious moments of human contact.

How free did that feel?

When they passed, how free did it feel not having a funeral to honor and celebrate their life? When you were finally allowed to host something, you were left to decide which family could go and which could watch online.

How free did you feel when you couldn't travel to the neighboring province in your own country to see your new grandchild, visit your kids, parents, friends or say goodbye to a dying loved one? 

How free did you feel when you are no longer allowed to decide what you can do in your own home? No visitors, no game night, no birthday party, BBQ's, no holiday gatherings, no sleepovers, no book clubs, coffee visits, workshops, Scrapbooking dates, movie nights or dinners? Each home was made into a personal jail of confinement.

How free did you feel when you've had to postpone your wedding or stream it online? How celebratory that must of felt. 

How free do you feel not being able to go to your country of origin to see your loved ones or be allowed back into your country of residence? 

How Free do you feel having been fully compliant and now worried you can't make your flight because you may test positive? How enjoyable was it spending the entirety of that trip worried you may test positive and not make your flight home? Or you found out you need a different test or brand of vaccine. 

How free do you feel knowing your employer is more concerned about your personal medical status than they are about your years of service, your ability, your experience, your education, your willingness to show up, your references?

As a business owner how do you feel being told you have to reinstate segregation into your place of business? 

How free did you feel knowing the rates of suicide, overdoses, homicides, domestic violence, child abuse, alcohol and drug abuse and crime are hitting all time highs?

How free did you feel wearing a mask and having panic attacks bringing back the trauma of almost drowning, being strangled, choking, being smothered, and all those terrifying events? Oh, sure you have an exemption, but it's not honored anywhere.

How free did you feel going to the hospital in full blown labor and the doctor saying he won't deliver your baby until you've had the jab? Better yet they refuse to see you at all for any condition without the shot. How free and comforted do you feel knowing the Hippocratic oath is seen as nothing more than tradition and the mandates are an easy way to only have patients that align with specific beliefs?

How free do you feel not being able to care for your patients and/or clientele properly because your are overwhelmed with the endless changing and added protocols.

How free did you feel being able to hang out in a mall, but not sit in a restaurant with your loved ones. 

How free did you feel knowing you can't take your child to their activities or even watch them because you aren't jabbed?

How free do you feel having to disclose  your personal medical information to everyone?

How free do you feel having to produce a product code to be "free"?

How free did you feel not being able to gather at your place of worship? How freeing is it needing a product code to join in prayer, worship, meditation? Where you should be welcomed with open arms of support, but instead they are forced to greet you with a scanner.

How free do you feel when the squeaky 10% is berating you for being either compliant or non compliant? Grouping you into the boxes of pro or anti because, of course, they think the world is black or white, good or bad, right or wrong.🙄

How free do you feel being censored? When you're no longer able to express your views that differentiates from the narrative on your own social media accounts and messages, because they get removed. You become red flagged. 

How free do you feel knowing that freedom of speech is now only a catch phrase?

How free do you feel knowing your access to information is being limited, but the access to your personal information is readily taken?

How free do you feel when at the end of the day it wasn't enough? Just one more mandate, just one more jab. When all is said and done and your mental health is at an all time low. 

How free do you feel being regimented to look at your family, friends, neighbors, congregation, employees, co workers, grocery clerks, postal workers, health care workers, servers, truckers, basically humanity as a whole, as a personal threat to your mortality? 

How free do you feel when the protocols and mandates are continually changing and left for the interpretation of each individual business and center that you have no idea what the fuck you, or anyone else for that matter, is supposed to be doing?

If that is okay with you, if that is the legacy you are choosing to leave behind for future generations when you go, then that is your choice. 

I can say one thing, I sure as shit, have not been feeling very free with any of it.

That being said, never, in all of revolutionary history,  has it been recorded in a favorable light that they were just doing their job, just doing what they were told, just following orders. Don't get me wrong, it is an impossible decision to make to have to choose between feeding your family and providing a roof over your head, or holding true to your beliefs. A decision that is dependent on the individual and their circumstances. 

It's the individuals who have chosen to willingly snitch on neighbors, family and friends, businesses and so on. Those ones that have bullied them into compliance with ultimatums and guilt tactics, fines and jail, that's what I am talking about.

Free indeed🙄

Well, that is not the legacy I choose. I choose the freedom to choose!

The freedom to think for myself. The freedom to live my life with integrity and my personal morals intact. The freedom to not segregate. The Freedom to choose to work together, to play together, to eat together, to enjoy each other, to hug each other, to kiss one another, to shake each other's hands, see each other, to travel together, love each other, laugh together, cry together, pray, worship and meditate together, support each other, to sing together, to dance together, to collaborate and create together, to wonder together, to learn together, to explore together, to grow together, to live with one another, to openly share information with one another, to speak freely with one another, TO BE WITH ONE ANOTHER.

That is the legacy I choose. That is the revolution I support. That is what this revolution is about.

FREEDOM OF CHOICE.

Welcome!

Spirituality

 I was really quite nervous when I was asked to write for Eclectic Magick. A spiritual magazine? I don’t follow a particular practice, so what could I possibly have to offer? Ah, but I had to remember that spirituality, in it’s basic form, should it have one, is as free flowing as energy. It is not bound by rules and comformities. Spirituality is all encompassing and is as individualistic as the being who practices it. I often forget that. It is, rather, a hard concept to grasp. We are so used to having rules and limitations.  

Merriam-Webster goes so far as to define spirituality as ‘Something that is ecclesiastical law belonging to the church or a clerical as such’, Or ‘sensitivity or attachment to religious values’ and even ‘the quality or state of being spiritual’. We have been conditioned to see things as black or white, right or wrong, good or bad, but spirituality is none of those things and yet all of those things. 

I can’t explain or define spirituality any better than Merriam-Webster, or religious scholars and gurus. I can only try and convey what spirituality means to me.

For me spirituality is about listening to that inner calling, whatever that may be. Those whispers that align and speak to my physical, my mental and my emotional being. Listening to my spirit. It's a curiosity and wonder that looks to see how all my states of being work together. It’s a wondrous journey of exploration. What is the meaning of life and is there a meaning of life? 

I have never liked being bound or labelled by anything. Labels, I have found, are limiting. It adds a floor and a ceiling to the openness of life. I have, and continue to look at a host of various teachings. Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism, Shamanism, Mystisism, the study of crystals, philosophy, Astrology, the list goes on. With each curiosity I found another piece that would speak to me, and another way to expand my view of the world and my place in it. I can’t say that I have stumbled across any definite answers. Each exestential drop of wisdom has provided me with more questions than anything. I don’t, however, find it frustrating. No. I am a contemplator, an observer. I have discovered that I truly am not looking for answers. I seek inspiration and endless wonder. That’s what brings me joy. Well, maybe it's the Joy that I seek? Perhaps there rests my answers? 

LOL!! See!? Spirituality, for me, is seeking and contemplating! It's a connection. Connection to other people, to the Earth, to the world around me, to the heavens. A way of seeing how everything is interconnected. Knowing that though I may feel like I am but a drop in this vast ocean, I serve a purpose that I am likely not to know in the here and now. 

So what can I offer when it comes to spirituality? The only answer is that of the individual.

In my book, One Minds Book of Incomplete Thoughts, I said that ‘spirituality doesn't define my life so much as it's shown me the greatness of my life and of all life.’ In many ways, perhaps that's what spirituality is and what I can offer.

What does it mean to you?

As published in Eclectic Magick Magazine

Intentions

It is a practice among many to use the word 'Intention' somewhat like a prayer or a hope. We 'Intend' many things in life and when it doesn't pan out we would say 'well I tried'. I could never figure out why I didn't care much for the word, or at least our use of it, until recently. I was approaching it like many do prayer. The kind of prayer most know and do. Praying For something, instead of Praying It. My Intentions were placed in a context of what I wanted to be (future), rather than Intending as it is already (present). In other words I saw it as hoping for what may happen or be down the road, keeping that desire just out of arms reach.
I also noticed that my intentions were often surface. My Intentions were for What I wanted for myself or others, but had little thought about the Why I Intended to manifest certain things. Basically, I often would be unclear and unconscious about it.
For example, a few years ago, I found myself singing again. I had spent over 20 years keeping my voice to myself. My own family had no idea that I could sing, or rather that I could do it well. When I was younger I had visions of myself on stage, but the opportunities never arose and like most young dreams, it faded into a distant fantasy.

Now there is the whole divine timing bit, but there also is intention. I didn't have an intention. It wasn't until I got the ole' universal kick in the pants to join in the opportunity that was in front of me, that I really began to look at intention beyond the ego. So, the question Why, came into view. 

Intentions are not about the What I want, but about the Why I want it. So Why do I want it?
I discovered that it is more about the emotions and frequency that singing awakens within me than just singing to hear my own voice or for attention. It feels like home, whether the song is joy filled, uplifting, love igniting, or sentimental. When I came from this place, I began to witness the effect my voice had, not only on myself, but on others. It was a light bulb moment on so many levels. I realized it wasn't really about me, or how others would receive me on an egoic level. No, this was more universal. This was another way, another tool, I had been given, to raise the collective vibration and connect others. When I came at it from that place, the Why became clear.

 My Intention to sing has always been in fruition, but not knowing the Why has always left me feeling like an incomplete picture. A story without substance, because stories, Life, is about sharing. When I became clear on Why, then the motion of connection became real. Intentions are all inclusive. It's part of the code in saying that your Intentions need to be pure and true. It is the ripple effect, the spiral of life. When I intend to do something, and my intention has a positive effect on myself, then that ripples outward to others. This reciprocates back to me and so the vibrations go. It is the only way an Intention has any lasting power. When I make the intention for me, the Why for others, It reciprocates back to me, keeping the momentum going.
Another way is;
I sing, because it opens, connects and lifts me up and my intention is to use that to lift others up. This spirals back to me to continue on a deeper level, opening even more. This radiates out and ultimately continues the spiral. A starting point that continues around reaching further. 

I have found, that Intention for me, comes down to the purity of What it ignites within myself and others. The Why being so much more that a personal want but a divine purpose to enhance the community and world around me. So, perhaps the answer has always been in the word. INtention. Place the purity of it INwards and the Why then sets forth outwards. The What is the thought, the dream. The Why becomes the wings. The purity of inner emotion lifts Intention to fruition.

"Life is a series of ripples set forth by the frequencies we throw, and it begins with the vibrations we radiate inward. We hold, within ourselves, a community of universal proportions. Every cell within us has come to us, by us. Each one our own solar system brought together to make the universe that is Us. The multiverse that is We."

 

Ruby Koevort

One Mind's Book of Incomplete Thoughts

WE THE PEOPLE

I am completely in awe at how compliant a species we are. I live in country that boast equality and quality for all, but the fact of the matter is that it's really for a select few. A country where our rights and liberties were hard fought for by our predecessors, is now a country struggling to maintain some freedom of choice.

WE THE PEOPLE, in this country, pay an exorbitant amount of taxes to our 'government'. We the people pay income tax, provincial tax, goods and services tax, property tax, accommodation tax, liquor tax, fuel tax, let us not forget the money grab of carbon tax, and tax on tax, just to name a few. We are told it is to have the rights to access, but not limited to, medical care, education, justice, liberties and so much more, but what they really mean is privilege. They tell us which one of us is worthy, a priority, and deserving. They've manipulated our health care, our education, our media, our justice system, our businesses, and now, right down to our personal freedoms.

NO MORE.
It is time to remember and remind them that;

WE THE PEOPLE have the right, regardless of race, social or political stance, age, education, gender, religion, beliefs, height, stature, food habits, good habits, bad habits, basically the fact that we live and breathe anywhere on this planet, yes, we have the right to choose.
WE THE PEOPLE have the right to choose who comes into our own homes, whether we live in a single dwelling house, a mansion, apartment, trailer, condo, igloo or mud hut. Even if you live in Long term health facility, old age home, basement suite, camper, or any other place you're paying to live, WE THE PEOPLE have that right.
WE THE PEOPLE have the right to see our loved ones regardless of where they are. Our loved ones have the RIGHT to choose who they let in.
WE THE PEOPLE have the right to choose whether we hug or don't.
WE THE PEOPLE have the right to choose whether we shake hands or not.
WE THE PEOPLE have the right to decide whether or not we leave our dwellings.
WE THE PEOPLE have the right to decide what is right for our own individual selves.
WE THE PEOPLE have the right to decide what we want for our own personal bodies. Physically, mentally, spiritually or emotionally.

And in wake of a virus that has less impact on our actual well being than the social implications that we have been manipulated into,
WE THE PEOPLE have the right to stand up and know that 99.8% of us are NOT ill with the virus. That the less than 0.2% of us that have gotten it, 99.8% of those will recover.
WE THE PEOPLE have the right to not view or be viewed as a plague that needs to be quarantined and eradicated, because 99.8% do not have it.
WE THE PEOPLE have the right to respect each other and to BE respected.

For me that means, I respect the choice of another to wear a mask, stay in their homes, close their businesses, limit their contact with the outside world, should that be what they need to do to feel safe. I respect those that do not feel they need to do any of those to feel safe and all those in between.
Treat people how you would like to be treated.
Sure, if you don't mind a select few telling you as a business owner, employee, man, woman or child whether or not you or what you do is considered relevant, necessary or a priority, fine. I, however have an issue with someone else deciding if I am.

My opinion? Well yes, there are those that will argue that this line of thinking is adolescent in nature, but that's coming from a group that fear change. A group that still would rather believe that their government has their best interests in mind, rather than see that government has only ever had their own interests at play. In every time in history, those that presented a different view in any form that was not in congruence to the will of whatever party deemed themselves righteous enough and in charge, were considered heretics. That is my own opinion, yes the lowest form of knowledge, I know.
But this isn't an opinion. 99.8% of people do not have it!

I refuse to view my fellow humans with the manufactured glasses of fear. I do what feels right, not what others insist is right. I view life with as much heart as I do with logic. It wasn't that long ago that the earth was the centre of our solar system, women were not considered people and slavery was legal. With that, I leave you this:

 ‘Humanity has the ability to adapt, change and evolve. Much of humanity is in that place of change as we speak. There will always be those, however, that will cling, much as ego does to the mind, to the old, misplaced ideals of divide and conquer. Governments, corporations and individuals claiming ‘advocacy’, are fiercely struggling to hang on to these misconceptions that are both, outdated and unattainable. Child like in it’s inception, child like in it’s confusion. The time of the over stimulated blind masculine ‘all for one’ is coming to an end. The time of community in compassionate balance is on the horizon. Ideals will become more unbearable. It will not last. For to finally reach a level of comforting peace we must ride the storm of the hurricane. As in all things, change requires nurturing, compassion and unity of the SELF first, then our neighbours.’ Ruby Koevort

For I Awoke

 I awoke this morning to Me.

First a cloaked Me.
Meticulously crafted.
Stitched together by the expressions of time and perception
and branded with holes, long burned through, of curiosity and wonder.
Each worn patch, smoothed with a thousand smiles clad in silver.

This cloak, devised by experience, once heavy with expectations,
is but a house to shelter the treasures that await within.

This Me, knows how to alchemize joy from tragedy.
This Me, knows the silver lining.
Shadows are friends that need a hand,
and perceptions are but a wave willing to bend and change.

This Me, carries a facade.
Strong, grounded.
Hems of patience grow.
Deeply embroidered are the flowers of morality and responsibility.
Interwoven throughout, are the swords placed down from battles long past.
Though they may be dulled by the softening of time,
 always they are posed at the ready.

For this is a warrior's cloak.
Not tattered and abused.
No.
Nurtured and cared for by the host it wraps.
The Protector of it's faithful wearer, it forges on.

Each button, a trophy.
Sewn by respect, for each was presented within a box of darkness.
Each was polished to a shine, and yet....
a simple clad of fabric hides their significance.

This Me, this Cloak fuses with its host.
The glow of joy peeks out every tethered stitch,
like a beacon to pry inside.
It's the vulnerability that it hides.
Conditioning this Cloak like well worn leather.
Sturdy and pliable.

The boxes that lay inside?
Their gifts placed out in perfectly familiar wrappings.
They continue to work through like moths to a flame.
They dim, but for a moment when opened.
Each presenting a sword of fire, then ice.
Each melted into love then laid down to the field of embroidery.

This Cloak presented as Me is fading.
Hem lines falter to stay together, while the thread stretches thin.
The pattern, procured as needed,
has been forged by distant memories of lessons relearned.
Tangible and logical.

The Me in waiting holds secrets.
Within the joyous flurry awaits a box not so wonderfully wrapped.
Dark and worn the lock hangs open.
Obvious it has been gently pried open before.

This box, unlike the others, contains no perceivable memory or path.
Reeking of vulnerability and fear,
this Cloak of a Me wants to keep it buried.
This Cloak begs to remain the ultimate shield,
but the Me it hides, has no desire for it.

There it waits.
Placed outside and left ajar, this box, unassuming in nature, awaits to be examined.
If there was memory of this gift, it was lost long ago.
Another journey, placed directionless, promises possibility.

This Cloak knows courage,
for it can intuitively guide through lessons of remembering and foreseeing.
This medal, however, requires surrendering to the unknown.
What should this look like?
Where is the first step?
How will this feel?

And there it lays.

This Cloaked Me knows the medals of tragedy.
Knows the rewards of battles fought with determination, love, joy.
Responsibility and compassion, anger and frustration.
Resilience and poise, logic and heart.
Most of these won with a reliance of self that has chosen to battle demons in silence.
To heartbreak and mend in the shadows.
Stand and lick wounds quietly.
Self reliance is a well worn path.
The light shines when the battle is done.

This Me, it would seem, is unsure how to receive.
This Me knows to need and self fulfill,
but to want and receive is of another language.
How does one lean on a tree that is faltering?
How does one receive help from those whose hands are full?
When you don't need saving,
how do you want it from a world that is blinded for it.

What is this partnership of roads that run in all directions?

So, I awoke this morning to a Me.
Half cloaked and vulnerable to rawness.
Naked to the knowing that receivership is tied to giving.

Malnourished, I awoke this morning to Me.
Me, who watered and tended the grounds for the fruit, yet is unsure of how to harvest.
The Me who has led others in to pick from the garden.
Children careless of their footing, drunk with the loving support they ingest.
Children lost in their own beautiful world, have no awareness of the caretaker.
The Me.
The Me who will remain to rebuild what they have discarded.

I awoke to the Me,
standing at the edge of the garden,
an old worn box for a basket and a familiar Cloak over its shoulder.

A Me unable to find the gate.

Joyous Me

Joyous Me

Uncovering your inner compass is truly a gift. We all have an inner compass. For some, it's Love, for others it's Compassion, or Unity, even Peace. Mine is Joy. I can find the Joy in pretty much anything. From celebration to heartbreak, anger, and especially the unknown. I Love Life and all it has to offer. Though I don't run through life with rose colored glasses, I am often seen as such. I am in a world where I have been battered into believing that seriousness equates intelligence, wisdom, empathy and compassion. If I am not succumbing to the ravages of fear, sorrow, judgement, anger and conformity, then there must be something missing or even wrong with me.  I have been told I am too rebellious, unfeeling, even cold hearted. I lack compassion, reason and sensibility.  I have been told I am in denial and unaware of the importance or significance of things. Seen as naive and blind, I am seen as merely comic relief for the uncertainty of everyday life, because I am obviously in an optimistic shadow of bliss. In all fairness, I let people believe what they want.  Though I outwardly will shrug it off, it has played on my subconscious to the point, that I too, have thought there is something wrong with me.

As a child I was raised to respect my elders, my peers, those who were essentially more educated. Do as you are told, do what is expected by the fore mentioned educated elders and peers, conform and know that they will always know more, and anonymity will lend a peaceful life. Even within the spiritual community there is always the push for following and conformity. You are told to follow your heart, but what people want is for you to fall within the constructs of whichever healing art or teachings you have chosen.

So, I should ignore the self to adhere to some proposed idea of right for my self? How the heck is that a peaceful existence?

When your inner compass is Joy, and you have a propensity for logic and intellect, an incredibly loud soul, genuinely curious, and have an intuitive insight that challenges the norm, following doesn't lend well. Trying to succumb to those beliefs has been like stuffing myself into a pair of pleather pants, 2 sizes too small. It's a ton of work, a lot of powdering and in the end the seams will give out with an angry sound of release!LOL Let's just say I tried, but I ended up with more welts and chaffing than Joy!

To see life with Joy, for me, means having gratitude for the infinite possibilities that life has to offer. To see, that though life may not seem fair, there is always a balance. Even amidst chaos and tragedy there is a beauty that lies there, and always there will be a light that will shine and rise to the occasion.  It is both frustrating and liberating to be able to see beyond and around the single snowflake that alights upon my hand or the flurry of snow hiding my view of the outside. An observer and contemplative by nature, I see, hear, and feel what most do not take the time or effort to. Contrary to the logical way I will often come across as, I am incredibly empathic, but I have learned that empathy doesn't equate becoming an emotional sponge. I have chosen to radiate my inner compass instead. At the same time I am able to feel what I need to feel for connection. It's probably why I don't see empathy as a curse but rather a gift. It never ceases to amaze me when I am able to meet someone beyond the cloaks that they wear.

So why is any of this important? Again people see what they want to see, and their opinion of me is none of my business. More often than not, I willingly conform to the general consensus and play the role of jester and cold logic. I guess maybe, that there is a part of me that hasn't yet fully accepted my own broader views. I am still a physical being and there is a small part of me that yearns for validity and connection. I suppose the connection I seek is one philosophical in nature. By that I mean to have someone to have and understand those conversations of wonder. Longing to connect with someone that too, sees more than the view of one's own senses. For someone to meet me where I am at. Though the keyboard and screen offers some reprieve and release, I willingly admit that the expanse of my mind and intuitive processes can be a lonely place. If not for the knowing of my compass, my center, I'd likely have relinquished my self to darker chasms. So, Joy, it would seem, will keep me curious with wonder and compassion. Joy to continually rediscover and redefine my Self. Joy in knowing that somewhere someone may feel the same way, and loneliness is only a construct of my own limitations. Limitations that I, as a creator, can easily dispel. 

Whatever the path you happen to 

ruBonearth: Meet me there

ruBonearth: Meet me there: There is a saying that 'We meet people where we are .'  I forgot, however, that is not the whole picture. We are in a time where we...

Meet me there

There is a saying that 'We meet people where we are.'  I forgot, however, that is not the whole picture.
We are in a time where we allow ourselves to be barraged with negativity. Like children on a playground, desperate for acceptance, we conform or risk the ridicule.  Bully or be bullied, and though it makes us uncomfortable, we will play along. Jealousy reigns supreme. Fear that we will be left behind, fear that we will be missing something, fear that we don't already have enough. Stomping our feet, because well, it just isn't fair. By fair, what we actually mean to say is we want what they have and if we can't have it then we must be less than the other and the other needs to be punished for our own perceived shortcomings. All begging to be met where we are.
There comes a point where all commotion slows down and I can catch a true glimpse of where I am. For me, during this time of panic and uncertainty, I found myself floundering a bit. I haven't resigned myself to the socially acceptable table of pandemic fear, I am far too logical for that. Now, that being said, I do accept that this is where most people are, but I don't want to be there.  For a moment, however, I began to slide into the fear of where I 'should' be. What is right in this time of social and political correctness? At every turn of the tide, humans love to pass judgement and gaslight. Caught in an endless battle of right and wrong. Egos, desperate to be right, will condemn without a moment's hesitation. Unwilling to stop and observe and consider a different point of view, we herd like sheep into the crowd thinking we are free from observational judgement. Of course, we are not.
If you adhere to the storm of consensus you will be judged by those that don't.  If you go against the norm, you will also be judged by those that do. Really we hold ourselves to the worst set of unachievable standards, knowing that there is no way to please everyone. Really, I forgot, the only one judging is the one who is in fear of judgement.
Sigh...

So, I took a moment. Let the fear rise. Stepped away. Observed it. Assessed it. Contemplated it.

Then, when I was ready, I returned to it revealing that my fear came from a place of trying to please the majority by ignoring and stuffing my own self down. Briefly, I had found myself being swept up in the fear of the masses, the fear of the unknown. We are all empathic, which is why we so willingly find ourselves swept up in the consensual storm. I stopped myself by reminding myself, that others will not meet me where I am. And again, disappointment arrives on the heels of expectation, and expectation comes cloaked as hope.

So, now what. Well, I suppose, that I need to be solid in my centre, to keep myself from snapping under the duress of the wind. My centre is one of Joy and logic, rooted in observation and curiosity. There is a deep sense of oneness I feel when I am able to, in the words of Aristotle, 'entertain a thought without accepting it.'  I enjoy rolling around a different idea or view like one would try listening to a different musical genre. Trying it on for size and finding out if it pleases the ear or not. I also like to plant seeds, but I know we are all on different pathways, and everyone is exactly where they are meant to be. Including myself.

No, people will not meet me where I am, but if I am able to meet others where they are, then I am able to meet others where I am.  It is a full circle. It is the rule of thumb. By filling up someones elses glass of water, you find that your own cup fills. Giving is also receiving.  So Solid I will be. This does not mean unmoving, it simply means I can sway with the forces around me. It is only when the tree has reached its own willingness to bend in the wind, that the tree breaks. Willingness is limited only by fear.

So,
If you are wrapped in a blanket of fear, I will meet you there.
If you are not wrapped in a blanket of fear, I will meet you there.
If you are somewhere in between, I will also meet you there.
And by doing so, you will be meeting me here, and I will be meeting my self.

To do or not to do....

I've been struggling. The struggle between compromise and what my heart, no, what my Soul is saying. I am in a small band of four. For instrumentals we consist of one talented guitarist and a gifted drummer. Music choices are tight, opinions abundant. We have one consistent criticism and that is we don't do enough sing along songs. You know, the songs that most people would know.
I get it, truly I do.
I love rediscovering my voice. When I was finally given the opportunity to play, it was not only a shock to my friends and family, but a shock to me as well! I had spent my school years in choirs and group vocals. Blend, blend, blend. Sound as one. So when I could let that thought and conditioning go, I awoke to a freedom and a Soul call that was only a barely audible whisper in the static of life. I knew then that what I needed, what I was being called to do, was to feel through music that moved me in some way. Music that resonated with my Soul. The more joy, heartache, and everything in between that I feel with a song, the broader my reach. Above all else, the more healing, love, opening and authenticity is sent forth. Unlike many, I don't sing to hear the sound of my own voice, to be the center of attention, I do it for a purpose. A purpose that is truly incommunicable through words, and I trust that.
It's not that I don't enjoy the hits of my past, I do. I love all music, but I am also keenly aware of what our instrumental situation is, and how often we allow judgment to cloud our vision of how a song can be reworked. I am also aware of the need to please.

So, now I stand on the precipice. Satiate criticism, remain creatively contained, or lead with my heart.  

To Release is to Grieve

Two years.
Two years I have let myself fall into the shadows of disrepair.  I allowed the feelings and the thoughts of, resentment, disappointment, heart ache, anger, general malaise grow and fester within my heart. Hopelessness, loneliness and discontent enveloped and wrapped their arms around me. I hadn't felt that way in a long time. So why now? Probably because I find myself back in the thick of a similar forest, but with different trees.
Also, to grieve. It is a grieving process. All realization and release is. When we are letting go of the emotional hands we hang onto for false safety, we grieve for what we once thought were the arms of safety. It's like carrying on with a toxic friend just so you don't have to be alone. I had to allow myself to let go of all the hopes, dreams and expectations of what I wanted my family life, my marriage, and most importantly myself, to look like, because I wasn't sure what I even wanted it to feel like. I did know that I didn't want to feel like this. Lost and stuck, frustrated and lonely, defeated and resigned. Watching the home become the house. The sense of rejuvenation and sanctuary upon returning at the end of the day, have turned into the mornings of relief to be heading out. I had to take accountability for my part in the process, but I had to quit harboring the actions and choices of everyone else. I can only work on myself, but sacrificing my own well being for the sake of not stirring someone else's demons? Not anymore. 
Growth and realization is a heart wrenching experience. It's not all flowers and bird songs.  In the process of awakening to my own self worth, discovering my own power and light and letting that come forward, all the other crap came forward as well. 
Elevating and widening my own growth and understanding, had me revisiting points in my past to yield deeper lessons, and habitual patterns. Patterns of blame, responsibility, blame, responsibility. Knowing that being in a place of blame only takes away my power, I had flipped to other end. I blame(d) myself for everything. Taking responsibility for your life reclaims your power, right? Yes, until you take responsibility for everyone else too. I began taking the blame upon myself for the (in)actions of others. It's all my fault. If only I had been more open, more understanding, have more patience, less wanting, less independent, less visionary, less optimistic and more realistic. What is wrong with me? Why can't I just be satisfied with 'it could be worse', instead of seeing and craving and inviting what I need and the potential of what that could be. Somewhere I thought that taking blame equated taking responsibility.
And that is where the dance of continuing my own growth and trying to supporting another who is unwilling, comes in. I know it is not my job nor my place to shape someone into my vision of them. I know I can lead a horse to water, but I can't make them drink. I know that it is no less courageous to stay on the same hamster wheel as it is to jump off. I know we all have our own divine timing. That's not so much the problem. How does a river continue to flow when two sticks are added the dam for every one that is removed? I've spent years  placing wood into a fireplace trying to keep a house warm, while the doors kept being left open. How do I keep myself warm now that the wood shed is empty and the embers have lost their glow? 
Perhaps the heat never really came from the fireplace. Maybe it has always been that effervescent voice that breathed into me an optimism and vision of hearth that warmed me. An image that has always required that I see myself beyond that which feeds the flame, but as the flame itself......
 

 

Autumn

Autumn

Lorraine, as fall blesses us with her warmth and love, so have you touched and warmed our hearts.

I miss you.

One never knows when a fall breeze will arrive,

tickling our senses and loving us to be.

We cannot know the full reasons for why we are touched,

but touched we are.

Autumn reminds us of connection,

the rhythmic cycle of life.

She shows us the colours that breathe.

Subtle and muted, but strong.

She shows us the weight of our actions,

without words or malice.

Roots buried deep from our sights,

still vibrate with the continuance of life.

Leaves, braced for their final surrender,

teach us the magnitude of our presence.

We will to hold fast to summers furor and heat.

She shows us our futility in all such matters.

Changing landscapes after all, echo with promise.

A mere inhalation of the song before the close.

Eloquent and stately, she looks on.

A vision of synchronized endurance.

In her short duration, she blesses us with a taste of all aspects,

for all her sister seasons wish to play in her sovereignty. 

Reserved wisdom placed for all to see,

but savoured by a few who are willing to harvest.

You see, Autumn allows us the moment of reflection

before the deep slumber.

A revisitation of all we thought we knew,

and all we wished to know.

Her breeze, you see, is a reminder of the fragility of our nature,

but also, the blessing of our own presence upon her.

Autumn, whispers to us before the recline of summer,

and her compassion soothes us into the repose of winter.

She, Earth in purposeful motion,

She, a life in colour.

And that was her.

An equinox of fall, the season that embodies them all.

A bountiful harvest,

vegetables begging to be enjoyed and leaves dancing in colour.

The last of alfalfa still blooming,

nourishing the bee before the hibernation.

Cool crisp mornings,

lending to the warmth of an Indian summer.

The cresting of winter,

snow gently kissing the ground.

She was Earth in all her glory,

She was Autumn, the noblest of seasons.

Opportunity

Opportunity

The beauty of life is unmistakable.

There is nothing to compare it to.

We look out our window,

the leaves of trees have yet to open,

wrapped up tightly in their pods.

One brief blink and there they are,

open to receive the song of sun and rain.

Much like the first spring buds, we are.

The only true difference is the availability of option.

At every opportunity we can discern to keep ourselves cocooned,

suffocating out the light and nourishment needed for expansion.

Frozen in an endless winter sleep.

We also have the ability to surrender and unravel our breath,

sensing and riding unforeseeable compass.

Springs’ curious companion.

Neither is a definitive path,

nor do they fall into any regulations of correctness.

Unlike our deeply rooted ancestors,

we can unfold, cocoon, unfold, and cocoon as many times as we allow.

We are unbound by the forces of earthly nature,

free to ride the waves of human experience.