Beauty

Just to go back to thr first post...my original intention was to create a 'blank book' where I and others could create their own divine text by describing what they find beautiful in their lives.

A couple of my posts have remarked on beauty I find in the fall, accompanied by a piercing feeling of loss and memory.

What do you find truly beautiful? And what feeling(s)does it evoke in you?

What do you know about beauty? You know everything about what is lovely and divine to you.

Personal Bill of Rights

Feel free to copy, paste and print this. What do you KNOW is your right?

Personal Bill of Rights for Adult Children

1. I have a right to all those good times that I have longed for all these years and didn’t get.
2. I have a right to joy in this life, right here, right now — not just a momentary rush of euphoria but something more substantive.
3. I have a right to relax and have fun in a nonalcoholic and nondestructive way.
4. I have a right to actively pursue people, places, and situations that will help me in achieving a good life.
5. I have the right to say no whenever I feel something is not safe or I am not ready.
6. I have a right to not participate in either the active or passive “crazy-making” behavior of parents, of siblings, and of others.
7. I have a right to take calculated risks and to experiment with new strategies.
8. I have a right to change my tune, my strategy, and my funny equations.
9. I have a right to “mess up”; to make mistakes, to “blow it”, to disappoint myself, and to fall short of the mark.
10. I have a right to leave the company of people who deliberately or inadvertently put me down, lay a guilt trip on me, manipulate or humiliate me, including my alcoholic relative, my nonalcoholic relatives, or any other member of my family.
11. I have a right to put an end to conversations with people who make me feel put down and humiliated.
12. I have a right to all my feelings.
13. I have a right to trust my feelings, my judgment, my hunches, my intuition.
14. I have a right to develop myself as a whole person emotionally, spiritually, mentally, physically, and psychologically.
15. I have a right to express all my feelings in a nondestructive way and at a safe time and place.
16. I have a right to as much time as I need to experiment with this new information and these new ideas and to initiate changes in my life.
17. I have a right to sort out the bill of goods my parents sold me — to take the acceptable and dump the unacceptable.
18. I have a right to a mentally healthy, sane way of existence, though it will deviate in part, or all, from my parents' prescribed philosophy of life.
19. I have a right to carve out my place in this world.
20. I have a right to follow any of the above rights, to live my life the way I want to, and not wait until my alcoholic relative gets well, gets happy, seeks help, or admits there is a problem.

September 1st

Have had some sniffles for a few days, and getting an actual cough...will have to cancel a job tomorrow morning, and hope I don't have the H1N1 (swine flu).

I am so grateful for all the people who support me...I can feel quite calm and confident even though my former? sweetie is, to all appearances, gone.

I can love the person, hate the behaviour, and refuse to have the behaviour in my life. We're not talking loud TV volume here - we're talking gambling and disappearing for some 5 days now.

What do you know about relationships? About keeping a balance between your health and that of others?

Fall still pierces sweetly

A cousin of mine posted his 40th birthday on Facebook. I was 13 when he was born. To celebrate, I scanned a photo of my mom holding him when he was a year old. About 1979 - antique gold. avocado green - I think we held off on the orange shag rug until the next house we had!

In those days...Never thought I would say things like that...days of cousins and aunts and uncles; BBQs, power boats on the lake, fishing, playing, Mom and Dad always there. No one was horribly sick, children outlived their parents; there were tough times but big family celebrations on holidays.

That is the piercing today. I think fall does it because of the scents; a hint of woodsmoke and cool autumn leaves triggers memories of Newfoundland, of the small tornados of maple leaves in the schoolyard.

Thank you, my elders, for allowing me the life I had. There are writers skilled and powerful and quick enough to bring all this to life for a reader - the senses, smell, chill of lake water, the roughness of a dock under bare feet. We children always found something to do.

And one memory - the ice cream man! No political correctness then - and no stupid rote music from a circuit board. The ice cream compartment was on wheels, powered by the legs of the guy who pedalled it. The handlebar was horizontal, with bells beneath that were rung rhythmically by the fingers. You could hear it for a good half block. For some reason, we only had it in the neighbourhood where one of our uncles and aunts lived. Our own suburb was quite deprived! ;-) That made the visit much more special.

My cousin, his wife, and their two boys live in the house now. My uncle's ashes are buried beneath the oak tree that has been huge as long as I can remember. My aunt is having a bit of trouble with her mind.

What do you remember? And what do you know?

Still learning to blog - what I DON'T know :-)

I wrote this on August 13 - and it appeared as a reply. So here is the entry:

With the weather feeling so much like fall, I get that piercing feeling in my gut - the fresh air musty with moldering leaves, the searing painful blue of the sky, the brilliant yellow of Manitoba aspens against it, the stand of them near the Assiniboine River...when I was younger. I wish I had really known that people would leave and never come back, I wish I had learned to go camping...silly though it sounds, I loved that part of my life.

When I grew older, I went on the road as a musician, got "cool", did the drinking and all the rot that the road entails. Towards the end of that, I found a haven with a fellow - his family had a cabin, on an island. We would go there even in the deep of winter, start a fire in the woodstove, and everything would thaw and grow cozy.

I miss the getaway places...the lakes, outdoors...

Where I live now, I will be going on hikes with some friends, and that helps. But fall-like weather brings back the clear and happy memories of what was.

I am so glad I had that. And when I am elderly and deep in my own head, I will see and hear the smiling and laughter, be log-rolling on a lake in Cypress Hills Park, and immerse myself in the smooth, silken deep green water.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

"Tapestry" is the name of a show on CBC radio; I often have the chance to hear it on my car radio when I am driving on Sunday afternoons. As the title suggests, it features interviews with all people and perspectives that are the warp and woof of spiritual life.

If religion is defined as a world view, then I would say I am religious. However, with the ebb and flow of life, I am certain of nothing except that there is a power or serendipity factor that works well when I am on the path I believe I need to be walking. The rest of living is an endless discovery, sometimes pleasant, sometimes not so much.

Tapestry is hosted by Mary Hines. This past Sunday, she interviewed a rabbi - what a marvellous frolic it was! One thing he believes is that of all the holy books written, there is one missing: the one we write ourselves. He suggests we take a blank book, and write everything we find inspiring, beautiful and rich - and create our own divine book by doing so.

Here is Rabbi Brian Zachary Mayer's site: http://www.rotb.org/index.html (Just call him Rabbi Brian. ;-) )

Listen to the podcast here - it is SO worth it! I mean...I actually started my very first blog because of listening to this!

http://podcast.cbc.ca/mp3/tapestry_20090809_18827.mp3

And a quote I love: "Glory to God, whose power working in us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine." When I really think on this quote, I cannot help but be joyful and optimistic.

What do you know?