I choose

I choose

I choose to live today
Dressed in the clothes
Of who I am, discarding
The costumes designed
By others who have not 
Met my spirit in true
Communication. I choose
To be the face I see
In the mirror undisguised
By the caricatures drawn
By those with intent
For power or hidden 
Motives creating harm.
I choose to hold space 
For those whose words show
They know a better way 
Than what was then. I give
The room to grow into
What they know could be.
I choose to live 
At peace with my soul
By living at peace 
With others. 

I am Here

  Today I walked my first labyrinth. Here in Winnipeg we have the Carol Shield’s labyrinth in memory of the author who has written many books and plays. The entrance is flanked by two large stone collages of quotes from her book.  

   As I walked along I noticed the leaf buds had bloomed into clusters of leaves. The mantra played through my head “Winter is over, the leaves have budded.” Not far along I saw crocuses beautiful even in their faded glory and pink buds beginning to unfurl.  

   I stopped and looked around. Trees were leafing out everywhere. 

 How had I missed this? The last I remember really looking, the leaves were hidden in tight brown coverings just emerging from the branches. The thought struck me, in holding winter in my mind grieving a loss I could not change, I was missing the spring!

My thoughts turned to a poem I had remembered reading. In the meandering space of time, I was here in this moment. I took this thought out of the labyrinth. “Spring is here. Embrace the new growth.”

Lost
By David Wagner

Stand Still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made a place for you.
If you leave it, you may come again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost.  Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

Momentum in the Waiting Times

Momentum

It is hard to see momentum
While standing still
Muscle tensing relaxing
Leaning into the start
Quieting distractions
Trusting in preparation
Belief your mantra
Arm extended ready
To catch the baton
When next it is 
Your turn to run

LJAndres, April 27

Possibilities

Though the themes don’t match, this art piece and the imagery in this poem speak to me of possibility.

  

Seeds

I am surrounded by a cloud of witnesses
Both pain and joy held in their memories
They come holding out the fragrance
Of strength and resilience, 
Of compassion and inspiration,
They saw in me in the times
Our lives interlinked in the daily
Of living life in those moments that were

Their presence glow with an illumination
Lighting dark corners where ghosts
Once hid in silent threat to hope
They call inward leading my dreams
To the centre where the divine
Holds in gentle hands the seeds
Of dreams planted in me before
The storms ravaged my garden

Held through the years of disillusioned
Dreams the divine waited, held them safe
Until I was ready to receive them again
With reverence I carry them into
The garden where fallow ground
Stands ready to nurture new growth
Cleared and harrowed by these others
Witnesses of the life once lived

LJAndres

The Threshold

from Osho Zen Tarot deck

 I remembered the card differently. I had seen it so often long ago when desperate for direction I would search the deck to find my way. Recently I bought the Zen Tarot deck again, not so much for the wishing as for the beautiful symbolism in the cards.

In my mind I saw a child standing at an open door ready to take a step out of the confines of his life. Imagine my surprise in finding the gate padlocked in this card I had seen so many times! It wasn’t a card to signify moving forward but a card signifying the feeling of being trapped, locked out of a life he couldn’t reach. It was the nightmare of those years as I grieved my “failure” to be able to find the way to succeed in the marriage that had ended. The years of trying had all but erased the person I once was, still colouring outside the lines but recognized as having worth in circles of friendship, in my studies, and in my workplace. The torn pieces of hope were roughly bound together in a crooked effigy of living.

Such a contrast between that time of breaking a decade and a half ago and the breaking I have been passing through in the past months! This also began with grief as the words of another with power to do so walled me out of my passionate dream celebrated in the past years, lived in the present and anticipated for the future until retirement.

But each breaking had done its work of cleaning more of the uneven growth that had effected my ability to walk with steadiness through the stormy moments of life. Over a decade has passed since the day a short film allowed me to give myself permission to not be able to communicate with someone who chose not to communicate with me. I began to accept what I would later read in a book by Parker Palmer. My life was speaking who I was meant to be. What I counted as my successes and my failures illuminated the reality of who I was within. Decades of trying began to be unwound as I spoke the “No” in my spirit that was the beginning of a renewed, more vibrant “Yes” to life.

Though each break was a labyrinth in itself, my life has been a labyrinth of searching for that way out of the confines created by my anxious desire to please and the inability to feel good enough for the ones who held power in my life. The card showed me something I had not realized. That short film had been the centre, the revelation which would begin my return journey.

This moment I had interpreted as the beginning of the labyrinth return journey was something more. I had been on a spiralling movement for years, getting caught in the circling yet ever moving outward to a more expansive life. This moment is not a beginning of the return but a wider circle in the spiral drawing me to a place where I could see the threshold, the exit into a fuller living. 

Only, this time, the chains that held the gate shut are missing and the gate has swung open inviting me to take those final steps.

photograph by L.J.A.

Journeying the labyrinth of time

Two poems as my journey into the mandala labyrinth continues:

Castaway
April 18

I have been given a gift, 
unexpected and, surely not one I wanted
I have been given an island of time
A castaway from the sailing vessel
Of roles and expectations 
To preform to fill the role
Defining my dreams for the future
Delight and joy of accomplishment’s

Satisfaction torn away 
By violent waves of disbelief
That dream would find an end
Broken on the rocks 
Of others’ expectations
Changed from those encountered
When signing on to crew
Safe passage on a lyrical sea

Here on these sands 
I walk to the gentler rhythm 
Of waves on a quieter sea
I cannot reach the other shore
Until a boat comes back for me
So I wait and taste the fruit 
Sustaining me, new satisfaction
Dawning with each rising sun.

Within this island of time 
The sun and silence have burned away
The should have beens, leaving
What matters, the essence of dreams:
The innocent love of children, 
The warmth of caring friends, 
Enough faith to sustain each step
And a heart that can reach to others.

____________________________________

Return
April 19

Stop! Slow down!
I’ve only arrived at
This island of peace!
Walking this labyrinth
Of grief I found release.
Centred I began to know 
Who I am beneath 
The fears and shame
That held me bound,
That blocked my mind
And tore emotions.

This quiet waiting
Isn’t that what peace is?
Can’t I stay here
Protected from the winds
Outside my safe confinement?
You smile, remembering
My hurry to rush past
This time to push forward
Into trying once again
To meet the expectations of others.

The twists and turns of time’s 
Labyrinth have quieted 
That storm of loss.
I have founded contentment here,
Made peace with life
Secure in my choice 
To live my belief by
Isolating from risk of others
Who set a different course.
Revelation comes.

I breath relief.
The storms have ended 
I am safe in the centre
Safe in the knowing . . .
a puff of wind
And then another 
The sail in the distance
Moves quickly toward
My refuge on these shores.

Am I ready?
Can I move back to the 
World I once knew?
The world did not wait
But came to me invading
My defences with time
Spent sharing and
Presence appearing
Into the silence of years.

The darkened pigments of release
Trail from the boat 
As the distance grows
And shrinks toward
What living will be
As I return to life once more –
A new kind of peace
Of knowing the end of 
This journey is near
And life will be
What it’s meant to be

I leave the centre 
Of this labyrinth of time
Yet carry its gifts inside.

  

Pentimento

pentimento (pĕnˌtəmĕnˈtō) [key], painter’s term for the evidence in a work that the original composition has been changed. 

Despite my good intentions, there was no beauty in the outer lines. The peace I so longed to paint upon the canvas held the jarring discord of the reality. I did not know how to bring peace within the relationship this mandala represented. I did not feel direction in how to breech that barrier. Imposed hope, unwanted judgments clashed as colours and line created dissonance. Only the centre held promise.

How the urge to flight, to run away from what I couldn’t seem to fix held me! Throw the canvas away! Repaint the background to obscure the creative mess! What good are intentions if the product is flawed?

I was stopped by the centre, the seed and ground of my own heart. Green radiating from the spiral spoke to me. 

I raised my paint brush and began to recolour some lines. As I did, it struck me. This mandala was walking me through the inner labyrinth. This time on the journey was the walk toward the centre, that time of Release, the emptying to make room for the changed. The past could not be undone but colours and lines could be revisioned by letting go of what needed change.

I chose the colours that were darker for the heaviness of their pigments. Spiralling upward as layers obscured the colours and line below. I prepared for what will come by letting go.

It is not finished. Releasing is a spiralling process in time. It will come as I take the steps I can see. Each will draw me to that place of Revelation which will lead me to Return to the place of serving more deeply again. It will not be what was. It will have a new beauty.

I look at the mandala and see raised shadows as the only evidence of what had once been.

Only the centre remains.

 

**Credit to Heather Plett for teaching me the stages of a labyrinth

**Credit to Info Please for the wording in the definition of pentimento.

One More Step

  

The blue sky lights my window while the apartment across the street glows orangy-red from the rising sun still hidden from view. The tall evergreen blocking the sun’s light casts the bare branches of a deciduous tree in dark relief against the brightness. Only the tips are far enough out of the shadow to catch the brightness. A squirrel scurries past along the power lines drawing my eyes toward the movement in the picture, helping me see the swaying of branches from a gentle wind. Birds fly across the scene, the first small birds I have seen in flight this year. I am quiet, my mind still enough to just listen and look at the world around me.

I am in a resting place in a journey of several months. Circumstances and a need to nurture my resilience covered me like a blanket of snow. The signs of my life were stilled to the world around me, held within the quietness of my home like a tree waiting patiently through the months of cold. The snows have melted that had left a frozen wariness in my spirit. The small buds of new leaves peek out as signs of hope that spring has come again.

I wait, my leaves held tight in their husks knowing the supports in my life are helping me discern the weather, helping me listen to the voice within telling me that all is ready for the next step on this journey. Like the climate in this northern region of the world spring comes in fits and starts working its way out of winter’s hold.

Will today be the day I will hear the news that will open up new steps for me? It is a waiting that tests my patience but also calls me back to the humility of knowing that unlike the tree I had ignored the signs of the changing season trying to hold on to the summer even as autumn shouted its cues. I had ignored my inner voice letting circumstances reach a point of danger to the essence of growth in me. These others had seen it first and prepared the coverings I would need to protect me as I weathered the storms of doubt and fear. I need to listen. 

Within the stillness of waiting new growth begins. Art lets my spirit speak what right now I can’t live out as fully in the world around me. I am discovering a quietness, a sanctuary from the old need to control my life through distancing and an unrealistic need for perfectionism in trying to meet the expectations of others. I am learning to display these signs of life – my art pieces- while knowing that there may still be one more step or even a full repurposing before they become settled into what they are to be. 

I don’t know where this journey will lead me. That it will be much different from what had been the routines of existing for so long is a given. That I will need to redefine how I would describe myself is a known reality. Much of what I had gained my sense of self from will be altered by the forces I had tried so hard not to see. 

But I will grow. I will step back and look again at the art of my life with the knowledge that change is often a sign of growth, a new seeing that expands my perceptions of the world around me. My inner eye gains new appreciation for the richness of the colours, textures, shapes and lines that make life the beautiful evolving reality of being. 

I will look, and look again, enjoying what is while becoming more open to acknowledging when growth asks me to take that one more step toward becoming all I was meant to be. Accepting change is a journey of discovery. I step out with hope for what is and what will be.

A post by Christine: Stay Close to the Cracks

Reading this post had such resonance to my present journey that I ask permission of its writer, Christine at http://godspace-msa.com/2015/02/09/meditation-monday-stay-close-to-the-cracks/ to allow me to repost it here. Thank you, Christine for being a part of my healing journey. May this post bless others as well. The post ends with a link to Cohen’s song about a crack in everything. Visit her site to follow that link. Thank you.

Meditation Monday – Stay Close to the Cracks

In Eager to Love, Richard Rohr comments that St Francis of Assisi asked us to stay close to the cracks in the social fabric of our world. It is a thought worth reflecting on.

Everything in our lives and in our world has cracks, wounds and broken places that tell of pain and suffering. Sometimes we try to cover them over, attempting to seal them off from the light. But this only makes them fester and get worse.

Yet it is in the cracks, the broken places of our lives, where violence flares and pain cries out that healing happens. When we acknowledge imperfections, we take the first step towards wholeness. It is into the cracks that light can shine and water can seep. It is in the cracks in the concrete that seeds can lodge, germinate and take root. And as green shoots reach for the sky, the crack enlarges, the concrete crumbles and what was meant to live and breathe thrives once more.

What is your response?

Sit quietly in the presence of God, allowing the love of God to wash over you. Read through the prayer above several times. What cracks in your world, what places of woundedness and vulnerability that give you ongoing pain come to mind? In what ways have you tried to cover these over, perhaps with a facade of laughter or with a semblance of respectability? Are there ways you respond, perhaps with fear, or anger or intolerance that show these are festering? Perhaps there are things you need to confess or seek forgiveness for. Offer these up to God in prayer.

Now think of the light that has shone into those cracks. What has it begun to give life too? Are you aware of green shoots emerging towards the sun? How could you nurture their growth and make help them to thrive?

At our local mall recently I noticed that what was once a solid concrete slab of parking slots has now been transformed. Deliberate “cracks” have been added between the rows of cars – small gardens that channel the water into the topsoil and down into the water table are thriving. The rain no longer creates a flood of water that overflows the drains and clogs the waterways.

Sometimes when we stay close to the cracks we realize that they need to be nurtured and strengthened to rebuild the fabric of our lives and our society. And as we nurture these it is not only the surface life that thrives but it is the deep wellsprings of the water table that flourishes too.

What is your response?

Read through the prayer above again. What slabs of pavement are you aware of in your life and society that need to be broken up with gardens? Is there something the spirit of God is prompting you to do that could help accomplish this?

Now listen to the song below and allow the spirit of God to stir your imagination. Is there another response God is asking of you?

Waiting for the Light

 “May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring    

Last night I was thankful for the reasonableness of most drivers in our area. We had a power outage that covered my area of town. I realized in my move I had lost track of where any light sources were in my home.

Since even Internet was unavailable, I didn’t know how far the blackout had reached but had to go through about 4 unlit corners before I reached lit roads again. Almost all drivers reasonably and responsibly treated them as 4 way stops so I was able to get safely across to an area of town where I could purchase alternate light sources.

On the way home the news said a few thousand home had their power back but a few thousand others would need to wait until at least 1 am. I didn’t know whether I was returning to power in my home or not.

I was thankful for the inside light in my car to help me read the instructions and get the batteries in place for my light sources since I arrived to no power.

I was thankful for the sleeping bag I had bought for cold temperatures, for the fact that we are dealing with the milder possibilities of winter weather and that my light sources were strong enough to let me read until the loud sound of something being worked on across the street could finish and I could drift off.

I was thankful for medications to help me get what sleep I could.

I awoke to light.

That I see the things to be thankful for gives me the relief of knowing this other condition I am dealing with is not depression. That I can hear the positives adds to that relief.

Finding peace in the darkness gives hope that I will be able to gain the resources I need to face this other thing causing me to need help right now. It will come. Peace will return. Stability will be found. Light will return.