a day; a life lived

   Hmm, what fabulous thoughts that run through my head are worth spilling forth this evening? Dare I comment on the Christmas decorations that went up today, that thrilled my girls when they came home this evening? Carols graced my ears and put a remembered smile on my lips. Heritage and history float in the air on the magic of the season within.

   Or shall I remark on my yoga practice today, that is always a highlight of my week. It shines in my life as an integral lifeline and sanity. This is as much for the emotional support I receive from my beloved Wellspring members, as for the actual practice itself. I could not face the day today without holding in my heart the thought of loving kindness and grace that has filled me up on a little mat sitting on the floor. The ting of Valerie's tingsha instantly melts my heart and releases unknown tensions from the day. (Tingsha creates a meditative vibration but is more commonly used for calling one into the here and now. The striking sound of the Tingsha has the ability to call one forth as well as clearing any disturbing energies in the moment. The Tingsha brings clarity and spaciousness to any space - http://www.stonesforbones.com/page/934329) Namaste!

   What about my conversation with a fellow yogini who has also lost a partner, fallen to cancer? Her husband was 59 and died three weeks after being diagnosed. The future is always out there, but it is ripped away in the face of this insidious disease. It is hard to truly write that though, as I have had many unexpected gifts in this journey. One of them has been me. The me that is here right now with you sitting at your computer reading these words. Cancer destroyed my world as I knew it, but handed back the seeds to germinate a new one. My new life still seems to fit loosely, but I am allowing myself to try it on. I did not want it, but the wretched gift continued to lie staring from the floor where I left it. It will not be ignored. The gift has been the sharing of it. A hard gift that is prickly to hold on most occasions. A gift that I cannot give back. And I won't. I shared my gift with a fellow journeyer this afternoon as the rain began to sprinkle down softly on our heads. She seemed so strong for so early into her journey. That strength is a garment pulled on for the benefit of a world that does not want to see our pain. I know she has had her bleak moments, but has the will somehow to work through them. I guess I do to. Don't mistake me for feeling poorly as compared to my compatriot. I know I am further along than she. I know the putting on of face for the day only to loose the stomach for it by night fall. Tears by the ocean have washed through me. That is not today though. I feel and remember.

   Perhaps I remember more today for the scab I picked at yesterday. Yes, I felt it all day, despite the Christmas crooning that tempted soothed spirits. After dinner last night conversation flowed with dear friends over a bottle of wine. The children were downstairs, lulled by a movie and our conversation somehow stumbled into my memory land. How it gets there I wonder somehow, but I have been told I have the gift of gab. When encouraged stories flow. When some of the painful memories spill forth, they must be followed through from beginning to end. I have had times when a story starts, but the thread is broken and I feel lost and broken. I have to let it out when I get there. As I tell my tales I am right back there. I feel glazed over going into this inner world of memory that seemingly tortures me. The stories must be told though. Last night I wandered through the day that my cousin was torn from my life. At fifteen it was much too early and too harsh an experience being five months on the heel of Brad's death. It led to another death, this a living kind. My in-laws dissolved from my world at this time and I still tell the tale. I lay in bed thinking on them last night. They still haunt my thoughts and I offer up my pain and regret to the ethers. A shame, a shame. Loss of a life, to bring on a new. I think that is where my rambling will end tonight. No grand epiphanies tonight. I take a kiss from the wind and curl into my pillow with it.

sweet dreams...

 

I can do it!

   Ok, I am loving blogging, but getting frustrated in trying to learn how to add new stuff! I saw some cool counters, but cannot make them work! Anyone help out there in blogger land?

   In another vein, I am thrilled to have had someone sign my recent addition of a guest book. Even more exciting was that it was the author of one of the books on my night stand! Neat! Super cool in my book. I have been excited about the fact that I have been doing well at writing in my blog on a regular basis and have got positive feedback from a few fronts. Thank you for all those encouraging me! It is a great feeling to have a voice and know that it is valued. I have dear friends and appreciate all the kind words shared. I feel I am a lucky soul to have that support. I know that some nights my words are loose and not worth much, but I still give myself a pat on the back for putting forth my effort. My NaNoWriMo winner friend is a source of inspiration at her perseverance. It keeps bringing me back. I find that some nights the words that flow are surprising and often wonderful. To me if no one else, but I have had smiles sent my way. I am learning that my own smiles and encouragement should be higher on the list of positive feedback too, but that is my own personal goal and struggle.

   So what is my goal and struggle for today? To be able to take the words that burble within me and set them to paper for a broader audience. Dare I say a book? Again my worst enemy shakes her head and tries to claim I cannot do it. "You do not have the perseverance!" she smirks. She shouts. I am trying not to listen, but finding it hard to give dedication. I had wonderful support today for this as a realistic goal. "Do it! Make it happen! Set a goal and timetable and it can and will become a reality". I really and truly want this to be a reality. It would just tickle me so much to be able to say I wrote a book. Another thing to sell it, but that is a challenge for another day. Today is to set aside time and WRITE. Yes.

 "Thursday you say?"
Bring it on. Let's give it a whirl...

domestic diva

The floor has been vacuumed
and it is time to go
late is the hour
and sleep dictates the show.

Drift off to ruffles
the dishwasher and dryer
domestic duties never end
their power is higher.

Dinner dances tomorrow
friends, fire and wine
beans never did get tended
but showtime will all be fine.

Another verse
instead of toilet swishes
counter swipes and mop drops.
Anon, time for sweet dream wishes.

Good Night

Recovering

   Perhaps all the low energy flowing flowing out of my virtual pen finally caught up with me. While desperately trying to mend my children's woes this week, I must have forgot my own. I opened the door and in swooped illness to knock me off my feet and away from a looked forward to weekend with a friend.  I will live, but not get much needed hugs. Ah well. I rested and was taken care of by my children and reminded to lie still and watch the world go by. I leave this brief this evening. Good night

Positive? hugs

   How do you manage to stay positive? I visit beautiful places like GardenMama and see a steadfast belief in the human spirit. I admire it. I wonder if there is always such kind thoughts in the author's mind or if she ever slips. I have had a busy week. I have done well and racked up loving kindness points in tending to sick children. Leaving the doctor's office today though the spectre of Children's Aid loomed in my mind. I wondered if it was somehow my fault that R hurt her arm. It seemed that it was such a faraway voice that reminded me that I was not even in the room when she fell. That alone caused twinges of guilt "Could I have prevented it if she had been in my sight?" I cannot be there for them all of the time. It is physically impossible and the thought of it just sets me up for failure. It seemed such a familiar pattern though to blame me for the ills of the week. Could I have done better?  Maybe. Perhaps.

   By Fridays end T and R are abed, sleep inching through their consciousness. R has no visual effects from her ordeal and would probably be far stretched to even think of her doctor visits as an ordeal. T's sick day on Wednesday provided her with interesting stories to tell her friends at nap-time, not demons to plague her. They both gave me hugs and kisses as I tucked them under their sheets. I reminded them that Daddy is with them always and the proof is that they exist. He is a part of them and all they have to do is hug one another to feel his arms around them. Beautiful thoughts. T also offered the smiling thoughts that I was there too and I carried Daddy too. I do. Beautiful girl. Beautiful man. They are my positive I guess. Just reach out for my hug and recieve my soul song. Thank you baby.