Try those wings!!

Fly!!!

Running.....

How interesting a subject to come to mind, given the last post about an aching foot and a reluctance to step out. I know though that I am running from something, energetically, at least. And my physical "foot" is trying to tell me something about that by holding me back.

The thing about running from myself is that a good portion of my real Self is not "home" to help me deal with the 3D pain and reluctance. I can feel the scatteredness of my energy - and in fact a very real lightheadedness and separation from my body. (It isn't a safe driving condition, for sure!)

So, the polarity of these two things is square in my face this morning. I am reluctant to step out, yet I run. I assume I "know" what this is about. Yet my consciousness resists its revelation, just at the moment.

My intention today is to integrate my Selves, like images that have separated, coming back into one. It is similar to what happens when one is tipsy - several versions of one thing need a concentrated focus to become clear and one again.

Integration, coupled with a vigilance to know the truth. I know how to find the way. Running not required.

One giant step.....

It's 5:30 a.m. as I begin to write this. That's not so bad, really, except that I have been awake since 3:00. I figure there must be a good reason to be up and at the computer (other than to do the work that must be accomplished sometime today), so I am choosing to "start" writing. Those of you who write will understand the call to do it that sometimes has nothing to do with having anything to write at the time!

My son is writing a novel and offers, as well, an opportunity for others to write fiction through a blog that he developed. He gets up early most days and writes before his work day begins. If he wasn't in Vancouver (where it is presently 2:30 a.m.) he and I might be at the computer at the same time today, searching the ethers for inspiration.

And I think that is why I am here. The apparent "block" to starting can be the biggest problem. I have noticed that every little thing that is a part of my everyday joins together like puzzle pieces to create a whole. I know that may not sound particularly profound, and yet it is for me. No moment, thought, intuition, phone call, comment, challenge, success, etc. is lost in the void. All of it fits into a perfect order of divine intention. Just because I can't always figure out the final picture doesn't mean it isn't there. And even when I get a sense of the whole for me, it is still only a little part of the big whole that is life.

All that to say that starting to take the next step can seem like a mistake, an uncertainty, a mis-step, yet stepping ahead is all one can really do. If the path seems like the wrong one, then turn around and try another. If all seems to be going well, continue on. If obstacles block the way, stop and solve the problem - maybe take a detour. All of these options are ones we would take on the road if we were driving - so why not with life? What keeps me from jump starting every day? What has me hesitantly putting my toe in the water before jumping right in? Of course the answer is that experience has taught me to be cautious, not daring; to be ready, not in a rush. And yet, some of my best experiences have come from moving quickly into the next stage.

Today, I am thinking about the fact that my foot hurts. It has been hurting for about eight months. I have found some physical relief through orthotics - and the metaphor that now I am "supporting myself appropriately" is not lost on me. Yet the ache continues.

What more keeps me from "stepping out?"

The Joys of Motherhood....

My kids still talk to me. I consider that a good thing - and an ongoing privilege. My sons are both in their thirties (shhhh, don't tell anyone, 'cause too many people can do math!) and they live their lives fairly openly. They love to have philosophical discussions - especially with each other - and they will challenge me, others and certainly themselves about any behaviours that are inconsistent with spoken beliefs.

There is never a dull moment when they visit and we get going on some great topic. I have to keep my wits about me in order keep up to what may easily become a debate about abstracts where the ideas flit from one's mind as quickly as a new one enters.

My sons are wonderful blends (though still very different from each other) of their parents. I think they took mostly the good stuff from their Dad and me. Though I know they have their personal challenges. They are both working through one each right now (at least). And they called me to talk about that. How blessed am I?

He isn't "home.........."

I consider myself to be a fairly conscious person. Well, that’s what I do for a living and a life, so I hope so!

So, when my husband announced that (just because I asked the question) he had to go to New Orleans to assist in whatever way he could after Hurricane Katrina ravaged the Gulf Coast, I wasn’t surprised and I knew it would be easy to be supportive.

We found the money to send him off, nothing at home couldn’t be handled by one, he already had holiday time booked, I wasn’t worried about his safety. It WAS easy to see him go off to do what he does best. He even called on the day he was to start the return trip to tell me he had to stay longer. No problem - some clients of his to rearrange, his colleagues to call, the fallen tree would have to wait a few more days...

And now he is home - he has been for three weeks. And yet, a part of him stays in Pearlington, Mississippi where he toiled with his hands and his heart beside others who came to do the same. Together they created a shelter, a clinic and a supply centre that could receive and dispense all the amazing donations. He was proud of what he accomplished - and rightly so - and he and his “renegade” friends keep each other informed about the progress of their work as it continues without them.

I can imagine what other spouses and family members might be experiencing as their loved one comes home from the “front” of humanitarian aid with a whole new focus. I know that I want to be fully “there” as my husband talks on and on about the anecdotes of a group of loving volunteers who made a difference. He refers to his new friends by their nicknames, expecting me to remember them all and all the details he has shared with me about their courage and their hard work. When he isn’t emailing them or calling long distance to check up on their well being, he is pacing - thinking about them, worrying about some, marvelling about all.

I sometimes feel left out, though. I find that some days I miss him more now that he is home, than I did when he was away. And yet, I know that he is different - better - for the experience, and that it is forever imprinted on his heart. Even as I write this, he is making plans to return to Pearlington with a team, in a couple of weeks, to offer friendship and an ear to those whose emotions will now be surfacing and to take gifts of hope along for the children. His longer-term planning includes an ongoing program for children and more emotional support for their parents and other adults.

So, what is my job of support while I have some feelings of my own with which to deal? In the spirit of conscious living, here is what I have done.

First, I find ways to encourage myself in my own work and my own personal growth. I go out of my way to compliment myself, pat myself on the back for a job well done, reward myself. Then, when I share that with my husband, he affirms it. Yet, he doesn’t have to feel responsible for “making me feel good.” I do that.

I have had to really think about the kinds of emotional and physical support I have drawn from him and let him off the hook, so to speak, about having to have his attention placed on me so much. I do this by taking responsibility for my own feelings - making sure that I don’t ever go to “it’s his fault I feel this way - he’s so preoccupied with his own stuff, he has no time for me.” Sure, his preoccupation may spark a reaction like that, however, this is just an opportunity to shift the blame to him instead of really looking closely at why I am feeling something that is hard to feel. So, I spend more time with me - having a friendly banter or counselling session with myself. I ask myself, with a smile, my husband’s favourite counselling question, “If you DID know what was really wrong, what do you think it might be?” It has been helpful, revealing and healing to think and process this way.

I have deliberately joined in, with interest, to my husband's measurement of daily life in Canada against the loss of everything in a hot, dry coastal town on the Gulf. I have noticed my own share of head shaking at what some people - including myself - think is important. I have been grateful to God for the good fortune of relative safety from such a tragedy.

Another thing: I have had a conversation about this dilemma with my husband. He recognizes that his head is in thoughts about the work in Pearlington and the ensuing “out of touch” time when everyone and everything is so far away. He knows about the danger of not being “present” to our life and to me. And yet, I needed - mostly for my own sake - to gently remind him that balance is the key. The times together are different because, now, we are both changed from this experience. The times when he is off in his thoughts and problem-solving space, I am able to devote to my own life and pursuits. Our coming back together is more enriched, yet there was no real separation in the first place. Just two people giving their all to their own purposes who come back to the enjoined circle that relationship is, to reconnect, to share, to give and receive support, to remember what is really important.