• Forget It

    • October 10, 2018 2:47 pm

    Dearest Readers,

    Lately, I’ve been making a lot of mistakes.

    Last week, I was supposed to bring the cash box to our Contact Dance Improv Jam and left it at home.

    A few days before that, I was supposed to give a friend a copy of the memoir I’m writing and I didn’t remember to do it.

    The other evening, I had a call scheduled with a friend and even though I’d remembered earlier in the day it completely slipped my mind at the appointed time.

    This week, I didn’t bring the keys to the yoga studio and had to go back home and get them (luckily, one of the students gave me a lift so I could still start the class on time).

    The list goes on: I forgot to feed the parking meter and got a ticket; misplaced my reading glasses; left the bagels I’d just bought behind…

    When I recounted these events to a friend, she asked me how old I was.

    “Are you implying that I might have early-onset Alzheimer’s?”

    “It’s not inconceivable.”

    No, it’s not. But rather than making a beeline to the doctor I’ve chalked up the mental blank spots to the following reasons:

    1. My schedule has changed recently and I’m adjusting to the changes
    2. I provide spiritual care for the elderly and the dying and there is some emotional shut-down happening (as a way of navigating the suffering and the grief)
    3. Smartphone use

    I’m pretty sure these are the main factors contributing to my current state of distraction. Change can be discombobulating. Grief can be overwhelming. Screens are taking over our lives.

    I know I’m not the only one who is deeply distracted these days. There seems to be a whole lot of us walking around a little (or a lot) removed from our Selves. And why wouldn’t we be? Being a human being is challenging at the best of times and numbing out (whether intentionally or subconsciously) is a way to cope.

    The real challenge, however, is to stay engaged with Reality as it unfolds.

    This is easier said than done, especially when things are uncomfortable. I have such a natural ability to dissociate that I don’t often realize I’ve internally separated myself from my life situation until I’ve been shocked back into Presence by the appearance of a $60 parking ticket.

    Turns out this is a good way to work with a distressing event. Be it a minor mishap or a major calamity, the shock can actually serve as a wake-up call:

    Stop.
    Notice.
    Am I in my body?
    Am I even aware that I am breathing?
    What is happening around me?
    Where did I disappear to and how long have I been gone?

    Instead of beating myself up for the ‘mistakes’ I’ve been making I’ve been instead trying to see them as opportunities to wake up.

    BING! You forgot the keys. BING! You lost your glasses. BING! You stood up your friend. BING!

    Where did you go, Celia? Time to come back now.

    The beating-myself-up mechanism still kicks in and sometimes the anger does, too. Pretty normal reactions to making mistakes. Those old friends simply need to be gently reminded that I’m doing my best. That usually settles them down.

    When I view the things that shock me out of my numbness as opportunities to be fully alive then I become truly aligned with What IS. And What Is, is nothing less than the life force energy creating and sustaining all things at every conceivable moment in time and space.

    What is that?

    We don’t know.

    We call It by many names and we make war over it. We ignore It, rail against It, deny It, fear It and try and try and try to explain It. But we cannot explain It.

    We simply do not understand The Inexplicable Mystery of Our Being.

    But just because we don’t understand It doesn’t mean we can’t align ourselves with It. And I am aligned with my Being when I am awake to my Self and to others and to what is unfolding in Reality right now.

    So when you suddenly remember that forgot your keys, take it as the Cosmic BING! Take it as a moment to be amazed by the phenomenon of your existence and by Existence Itself. This moment of realignment Is All There Is and it’s worth waking up for.

    From the Fires of Love,

    Celia

    Pull the Trigger

    • March 24, 2011 11:01 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Yesterday I went out to visit a friend who lives about 45 minutes away to celebrate a milestone in her life. We went for a cross-country ski on the frozen lake that is her front yard while the bright sun hung in the sky behind us illuminating the mountains to an almost impossible white.

    For the rest of the afternoon we lounged on her couches, talking and laughing and resting in the quiet peace of the country. We ate a magnificent meal cooked for us by her partner and we celebrated together in the evening with more friends, stories and gifts. I drove back to town in the dark singing out loud to Johnny Cash, Neko Case and Jakob Dylan.

    When I got home I entered the bedroom and there on the beautiful, pure, white quilt that covers the bed were two piles of yellow barf. The cat had coughed up a couple of fur balls. I immediately went into despair.

    Now because I am devoted to the kind of inner work that demands self-searching I had to ask myself, “What is this really about?” Can it be that a little thing like a stained quilt so easily throws me off kilter? Sends me from joy to hopelessness in the blink of an eye?

    No, something else was afoot.

    After scrubbing and soaking the quilt I went into the little room (more like a closet) I use to pray and meditate. This was not a sitting-cross-legged matter. I got down into balasana, the Child’s Pose, on my knees and folded to the floor. I began to pray, seeking answers, going deep, investigating my extreme reaction. What was going on with my emotions?

    The answer came.

    During the evening I had been sharing about something and one of the friends in our circle had laughed at me. I had continued to speak as if his laughter hadn’t affected me but the truth is, it had. And I hadn’t connected to it until this moment.

    Why would someone laughing at me trigger such a reaction? Such despair and such complete and utter defeat? Searching back into the memories of my life I discovered the key.

    My grandparents had a little farm about an hour outside of Toronto and after we left the Yukon we would often visit them on weekends. My grandfather grew vegetables and for some reason his zucchinis grew to outsize proportions. We all marveled at the size of these green beauties, which would expand to become as large as newborn babes.

    As a little girl newly arrived in the big city of Toronto from Whitehorse I thought bringing one of these giant zucchinis to school for show-and-tell would be an excellent idea. Weren’t these anomalies of Nature worth sharing?

    When I got up to the front of the classroom to share my excitement with the class, ready to thrill them with the wonder of this earthly gift I was greeted not by awe but by ridicule. They did not look at each other and say, “Wow, that is AMAZING.” They laughed at me. They laughed at me for bringing in such a ridiculous, embarrassing thing.

    This was a inner-city school. And by that I do not mean “poor”. I mean downtown, urban, upscale Toronto. I was from somewhere else. I was different. I didn’t live in that neighbourhood. My sister and I walked 45 minutes to get there every morning.  I was weird and the zucchini was weird and the kids were uncomfortable and so they laughed.

    I was shocked by their reaction. Stunned, actually. And I’ve shared that story a lot over the years. I’m still good friends with my best girlfriend from those early school days and even she brings up the story for a laugh. But I didn’t know how hurt I’d been and I certainly didn’t know I’d stuffed the hurt away, hidden it inside me in the darkest and most distant of places.

    Once I connected to this memory, now an uncovered wound, I was able to connect to the grief and let it flow. This, in turn, helped me to release some deeper grief over the death of my grandmother, whose farm I had so loved as a child. She died last weekend. My grandfather died just 3 months earlier.  Their lives are over and I miss them.

    And so today I feel fragile.  I shed a bunch more tears this morning. But I am feeling so thankful that I was able to discover the trigger and the hurt underneath it. This kind of work is not easy but it’s so much more productive than blaming a little cat for having a hairball in the wrong spot.

    In my prayer last night I once again thanked the cat, who sometimes feels like an insatiably needy child, for giving me yet another opportunity to know myself a little better and to heal a little bit more of the turbulent past. And thanks to the God of Fur Balls, too.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: When I am triggered by a seemingly mundane occurrence I will take the time to go within and discover the deeper Truth. I will trust that this kind of healing work will bring me the Peace I so desperately need to live well.

    Post 611

    • June 26, 2010 12:40 pm

    Dearest Readers,

    In yesterday’s post I wrote about having a grieving session for all the pain and sorrow in the world. Last night, a woman I’ve come to know over the course of this last week on the ashram gave me the gift of one her hand-painted cards as a token of our new friendship. The card depicted the image of Guan Yin.

    On the back of the card it reads:

    “Chinese Goddess of Mercy and Compassion. Her name means ‘She who bears the weeping of the world.’ She takes away our anguish, our sorrow, and our pain. She watches over the children of the earth and answers our prayers.”

    When I was crying so deeply the other day I was experiencing the strangest sensation of bearing the weeping of those who could not weep. By doing so I felt as though I was somehow helping to take away their anguish.

    Now I am in no way suggesting that I am Guan Yin but perhaps I was channeling her Energy. When my friend handed me that card it certainly felt like something Greater than a simple Celia sob session had taken place.

    The ashram is like that. Things happen  to make you go “hmmm” all the time. The Yogis would say, “Of course.” The Vibrations are very high here. Makes sense.

    Does it make sense to think that there is a Chinese goddess watching over us and answering our prayers? Perhaps not. But who needs sense when you have Guanyin on your side?

    Inspiring Message of the Day: When we allow ourselves to experience real grief we are allowing a Greater Power to work through us. Often, this Truth will be revealed in the aftermath through a coincidence. I will allow these moments of Mystery and Connection to deepen my trust in Higher Guidance.

    Post 509

    • May 28, 2010 9:33 am

    Dearest Readers,

    A valuable piece of knowing was given to me yesterday in the counseling session at Hospice Yukon. It has created an opening in my way of thinking. A fissure of new understanding.

    One of the things I have been struggling with is the “right to grieve”. Leanne and I were close over 20 years ago. Our contact since then has been minimal. Am I really allowed to mourn? It sounds crazy but I have been wondering about these things.

    The counsellor said something like this in response to my question:

    Your depth of grief over a person’s death is directly connected to how deeply you loved her/him. That is all.

    This simple and beautiful statement gave me permission to feel whatever it is I am feeling with total freedom.

    I will carry this little piece of wisdom with me always. Thank-you Anthony!

    Inspiring Message of the Day: When we love deeply we risk having to grieve deeply. It would be safer never to risk that love and so avoid the pain. But living life to its fullest involves embracing both these aspects of Being. Like conjoined twins, joy and grief are inseparable mates.

    Hear(t)

    • May 27, 2010 8:31 am

    Dearest Readers,

    As some of you may recall, my friend Leanne died a month ago. It’s hard to believe that much time has already gone by. Zoom! I have thought of her many times, prayed for her and her family, remembered her laugh.

    Shortly after Leanne died I made an appointment with Hospice Yukon. They provide free counseling for those who have experienced loss and I decided to take advantage of it. Their counsellor was away and so the appointment was made for weeks later. That day has come.

    Already I’ve been planning what I’m going to say. Already I’ve been wondering if I really need to go. If I were to listen to the voices in my head I would have canceled the appointment long ago.

    Thank goodness I’ve stopped listening to those voices! When I first went into Hospice the lovely and kind receptionist gave me a little red heart; a tiny cushion with rudimentary stitches crookedly holding it together. It came with a little slip of paper that said, “A reminder to hold our own hearts tenderly.”

    How I need this reminder! I’m keeping this appointment today because I need to hold my own heart tenderly. I need to remember that there is grief to be expressed. I need to allow myself to be supported, encouraged and heard.

    It’s tempting to think, “I’m fine. I don’t need any help. I’ve grieved enough.” Feeling our feelings happens to be one of the most terrifying things out there. But if I can give myself permission to connect to my heart then I allow my deepest feelings to be felt. I honour them, I honour me.

    And I honour Leanne.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: Do I have someone with whom I can share my deepest feelings? Someone who will hear the expression of my heart without judgment and with total compassion? I will seek out that person and give myself permission to feel my feelings and to be heard.