The night is now dark and all is so still.
Looking up into the deep firmament,
One lonely star dares to venture forth despite the lingering and ominous evening clouds.
Boldly it shines with an intention I could only dream of-
If only, if only.
The star within me could risk such fearlessness.
The night is falling and the evening is growing
The wind howls as if in protest.
The mottled dark sky gives way to shapes unknown
Some mysterious language known only to Gods.
Walking amidst the blustery winds
A one way exchange of some distant Owl is my only confidant.
And my soul feels renewed.
This is indeed a quick fix-
Then suddenly, I frown with concern about tomorrow.
Oh, my goodness. I am indebted to Anhinga for the meme. It has helped me to grow out of the funk I have been in regarding writing for quite some time now. Well, I’ll give it a shot (no pun intended Anhinga!), lol.
1. I am no morning person. In fact, I’m really quite miserable upon waking up. If anyone bothers me before twenty minutes is up, I might have to kill them. My body requires that I wake up gently for at least twenty minutes upon waking in order to later function like a decent human being.
2. I am a true chameleon. I can pretty much adapt to any surrounding or situation. I can also be a complete “lady” or “tomboy” when I have to be (or both at the same time if necessary).
3. I absolutely abhor rudeness (or primitive, neadrathalic-like behaviour) from people. Especially when its not necessary or called for.
4. I absolutely adore driving fast. Its really bad, I know. I really need a hot-rod (a 1967 Ford Fairlane to be exact) so I can race on a quarter-mile track.
5. I don’t need friends to be happy in life. But its refreshing when I come along someone who is on the same wave-length as I am.
6. I’m fiercely independent. Have been all my life. I keep telling my boyfriend that he needs to dump me, but he wont listen.
7. I’m 42, but all the students at the school where I work in, thinks that I’m 30. Hell, I’m content with that. I’m very good at dressing like the girls in school without looking like (or becoming) an idiot. I’m very proud of the fact that I do indeed take care of myself…..naturally. I also have to thank mom and dad for the genes!
8. Sitting in silence, in nature, is for me, better than drugs or alcohol.
9. There is nothing more intimate like a passionate kiss. Not a wet, sloppy, gum-sucking ordeal!
10. I love my daughter more than anything in the world.
This was fun Anhinga- *wink.*
Gazing into the evening sky
The silence overwhelms me.
Stars twinkle with tender energy
Reminding me that there is movement within the heavens.
And suddenly,
I am in awe of the of the power and majesty of it all.
The dazzling, twinkling stars
Are a reminder that like Yin and Yang,
That the dark firmament would languish without them.
When you look at me like that,
I am no longer able to see you-
Behold,
The Divine is staring me down-
Burning me with incredible intensity.
Ohhh,
How is one able to survive with passion such as that?
Oh… my…God.
Burn me.
Standing beside the gasoline pump with his right hand resting on the pump handle, his tousled, warm coloured dark-brown hair hung carelessly over his forehead. Watching his face as she approached him, she could not help but again admire the rugged, angular features of his face. And he found that his steel-like composure was slowly breaking down. He was unable to remove his eyes off of her radiant face as she approached. “Courage,” she kept telling herself. Standing before him, a soft smile was the only thing that accompanied the package that she gently handed him. Re-used wrapping paper was all that she had as she was unable to afford any new wrapping paper. No words were spoken as the gift exchanged hands and fingers slightly brushed. Opening the gift, he found the picture frame broken and split into two. There under the broken glass, was her hand-drawn sketch of the two of them walking hand-in-hand. With tears in her eyes, she apologized and said, “I’m sorry, the cheap picture frame was all I could afford for your birthday. It’s the thought that really counts….right?” Her face reflected horror of the ill-omen of the shattered glass. Not a word emanated from him. He looked down at the broken gift in his hands and raised his eyes to meet hers. The glow that emanated from his eyes made his chocolate-brown eyes look almost gold. Lost in the light, she had a flash-back of a scene from one of her favourite movies, “It’s a wonderful Life.” The situation she was now in, reminded her of the electricity that passed between George and Mary as they shared a phone-call with Sam Wainwright.
His eyes never left hers as he said: “Two souls but with a single thought, two hearts that beat as one.”
Death.
It really wants to mess you up. Its only a blind- not only for the person passing, but for the witness as well. I was blessed to be part of an amazing, transformative experience. There is a magic to be found when there are women surrounding a loved one whilst he or she is dying. There is magic to be found if one can put their own ego aside for the one passing. Women have a long history of being the caretakers of the sick, the elderly, the dying and after-death care.
I cannot explain it. I cannot find all the answers. But the little reading I did do, I understand that women have always been held in high regard to being “the strong care-takers” regarding death. There was five of us, all women in my family that surrounded my grandfather as he passed over. Every single one of us were calm and supportive as my grandfather asked, “how long is it going to take?”
I was, I hope, an instrument towards something positive as my grandfather was dying. Upon the doctor telling us that there was nothing more that he could do, my main concern was that my grandfather would at last, feel no more pain. As much as I was conscientious and sensitive about asking this question to the doctor with my grandfather in the room, the last words he spoke to us was, “I feel no more pain,” and he forced a smile. That simple, freaking act, will haunt me till my own death. My grandfather then took a long, drawn breath- his last, before he passed away.
I have done much reading on the subject. Death, I have read, is the one major test placed upon mankind. If one can accept and prepare for his or her own death, one has found true liberation upon this plane. Death…..is, as many of us have heard, only a beginning. I have read, that true happiness upon earth can only manifest when one has accepted one’s mortality and the art of dying. Yes, it is an art-form. Many different cultures will tell you so.
My grandfather, a true Finnish-born man despite his Swedish bloodlines, fought for the Finnish Army in WW II and truly modelled what it was to have “Sisu.” He was to me, invincible. He could beat any odds, (but I knew one day it would catch up with him). Despite all his health issues, despite all the doctors comments about the odds and that he should have been dead 15 years ago, my grandfather proved to everyone what he was made of. And even though he was 85, it was too early for him to die in my eyes. But, his father (who abandoned him when he was eight and moved to Australia), lived to 85. So, my grandfather set that age as his own personal goal. He died a month after his 85th birthday.
I haven’t found sleep in two weeks. I don’t dream of the experience, but sleep still somehow eludes me. Subconsciously, the whole experience has obviously affected me.
I have found one way to find some kind of healing: I had two tattoo’s done. One on the back of my neck and one on my wrist. The one on my back has some intricate fine-line scroll work with the word above it, “Sisu.” (it’s a very classy design). The other, (a tattoo on my wrist is) an Orobourous. It is the Cosmic Serpent, the Infinity symbol. It represents that after every ending or death is a beginning. Like a circle, life never ends.
At work, the principle, vice-principle and many teachers have been checking them out silently. I guess it passed with approval, as no one has approached me about it yet.
I am in the process of writing personal letters to the other five female members of my family that were with me and assisted my grandfather. I want them to know just how meaningful it was for not only me, but for all of us, that we were together for our dad/grandfather. I was incredibly proud that day to be female. To be a Finn. To be able to identify and utilize my own “Sisu.”
I am determined to pass this major spiritual test: I will not be afraid when my own time comes- death is only the beginning towards true liberation and freedom. For the remainder of my life-time, I intend on living my life to the fullest and learn to cultivate the art of dying. This, is what I consider to be true enlightenment.
1. The Highly Sensitive Person, by Elaine Aron, Ph.D -
I cant say enough how this book was helpful for me. Lets just say, it answered all my questions that no, I’m really not nuts, I have an inherited and highly sensitive nervous system and just process sensitivity differently. If you think you may be an HSP, check out the self test check on her website.
2. The Field, by Lynne Taggart -
Interesting, scientific information regarding proof of a “Life Force,” universal interconnectedness, and scientific theory regarding supernatural phenomena. It was a fascinating read.
3. The Cosmic Serpent, DNA and the Origins of Knowledge, by Jeremy Narby -
This was a fascinating read and it wasn’t what I expected at all. Jeremy Narby, Ph.D in Anthropology, goes on a personal journey regarding the connection between consciousness and intelligence. His work is inspired by studying Ashaninca ecology, people in Quirishari in the Peruvian Amazons Pichis Valley. This book is written in a very practical, neutral and academically format.
4. Inspired by a dream I had, I just bought and finished this book (it’s a very short read): Simurgh, A Journey In Search of the Truth, by Azar Aryanpour.
Simurgh is based on “The Conference of the Birds,” a long narrative poem written in the late 12th century by Fariduddin Attar, a Persian Sufi. This Sufi mystic inspired the works written by “Rumi,” a famous mystic poet. This is a beautifully written, short piece of work.
5. The Last Lecture, by Randy Pausch Ph.D -
I have just started this book and already it has captured my attention. If you don’t want to read the book, you can watch Randy’s lecture on You-Tube. Its 45 minutes long but well worth it. Randy whilst performing his lecture had only a few months to live due to a diagnoses of terminal pancreatic cancer. His lecture (and I’m sure his book), is incredibly inspiring and thought provoking.
Next: “The Crone, Woman of Age, Wisdom and Power,” by Barbara G. Walker. I’ll let you know soon how this one turned out.
I’m going to start with this picture. We just arrived at Coombs when Michaela and I discovered a place on the side of the highway full of quaint stores with all sorts of neat, hand-made stuff. Yep, I couldn’t help myself. When I discovered the hand-carved penis chair (carved from one large block of wood), I had to sit on it and have my picture taken. Needless to say, Michaela was horrified. I noticed the red faces, pointing of fingers and whisperings of others as they passed the chair. Michaela’s autistic mind could not make sense of the innappropriateness of the whole thing. So, I attempted to redirect the negative energy by her and others, by making it funny. I sat on it and demanded that some one take a picture of me on it. Its crazy, because once I sat upon it, there was a line-up of others who also wanted their picture taken with it! Michaela still thinks I’m nuts- but she is the first one to tell people that I sat on it- all the while laughing! My ploy worked needless to say.
This is me. We had arrived at our first campsite and discovered that Englishman River lay beside the campsite. Caela and I immediately headed down upon setting up our campsite. After being up since the ungodly hour of 3 a.m., I enjoyed a nap near the water. Caela took this picture when I woke up. There is nothing like a sound nap induced by the movement of water.
This is Mackenzie Beach that lines up with Long Beach along the Pacific Rim National Park. We are now at our second campsite located above this beach. The past two days were hot and sunny. Now that we are technically in the realm of the Vancouver Island rain forest, it is much colder and very damp. Others along the beach told me that it is not always this overcast- but its definitely not uncommon.
Mackenzie Beach: Its always nice to see Michaela having a genunine good time since most of the time her anxiety disorder gets in the way. She was in her glory, discovering new shells and other unusual things on the beach.
Mackenzie Beach: Michaela finding another bloody muscle shell. I have to admit, I can see why she was interested. They were the length of a womans hand!
Mckenzie Beach: Michaela discovered a dead squid on the beach. And then we discovered six more. They were huge- approximately 2.5 ft. long. When we arrived home, we discovered on the news that the day we left, there was dozens and dozens of them (along with huge sardines) lying dead upon the beach. Marine biologists have no idea what is causing the deaths.
Rainforest trail walk, across from Long Beach (Pacific Rim National Park): I thought the moss growing on this 500-800 year old cedar tree was interesting.
Rainforest trail walk: I think this 1,100 meter walk was one of the most interesting parts of our trip. It felt like you were in a whole new world. During our walk, there was a raven following us the whole way making the most eerie “popping” sounds. No kidding.
Rainforest trail walk: This is Michaela being funny.
Ucluelet, B.C.: Ucluelet and Tofino are only a few miles apart in opposite directions on the West Coast of Vancouver Island. Ucluelet is is nestled in a small harbour to the south and Tofino is on the northern tip of the peninsula. Despite the fact that they are close in distance to each other, it is like walking in different worlds. Ucluelet is a fishing/logging town and Tofino is full of surfers/hippie-like people. I fell in love with both towns.
Wickininnish Beach: This was my favourite beach along the Pacific Rim National Park as it was untouched by development. Forest lined the upper part of the beach and the beach was full of interesting things. Michaela discovered a dead sea lion in the water but my camera had run out of battery! I definitely want to come back here one day.
~ Travelling along the coast line was amazing and we will do it again. I do however, have one piece of advice for anyone traveling along the west coast of Vancouver Island: Bring clothes that accomodates various types of weather! The last two days in the Pacific Rim area was extremely cold. Down south, was no problem! And, expect to possibly see bears, cougar and wolves! Yes, we were definitely not in Kansas anymore, lol.
My daughter and I were on Vancouver Island the last four days. We travelled from Parksville right up to the Ucluelet and Tofino. We visited many beaches from Mackenzie Beach to Wikininnish Beach and of course Long Beach.
To her absolute joy and pleasure, Michaela collected various shells not otherwise found on beaches near where we live. And as we made our way up to the left side of the beach, I came upon this little island. The island had a little cleft as an entry way. And within this cleft, stood a twisted, knarled tree in the shape of some ominous figure with its arm stretched outwards to bid some willing person welcome.
The scene immediately reminded me of a favourite tune of mine sung by Loreena McKennitt:
Where dips the rocky highland
Of sleuth wood in the lake
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats
There we’ve hid our fairy vats
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries.
CHORUS
Come away oh human child
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand
For the world’s more full of weeping
Than he can understand
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light
By far off furthest rosses
We foot it all the night
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles
Whilst the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.
CHORUS
Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above glen car
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams
CHORUS
Away with us he’s going
The solemned eyed
He’ll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace unto his breast
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand
For the world’s more full of weeping
Than you can understand.
