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Mo’ vember…

November 1, 2010

Now Tenrec had his answer…

Humming happily,

he went back to his building and pushed another twig into the ground…

— in Tenrec’s Twigs by Bert Kitchen

When I wonder what’s going on now,

I ask the question,

and then I wait for the answer to come,

in any way it wants to show itself…

In the days running up to Halloween,

a friend spent a day or so in the hospital,

with severe abdominal pain,

and an aching skeleton,

due to an infectious bacteria,

found more predominantly in our so-called,

developed world…

I told her that as much as she is hurting right now,

she will feel better…

I said,

As you process this physical experience of dis-ease,

due to an external pathogen,

your body is clearing stored information which is no longer needed,

for a higher good…

A month or so ago,

I had a dream that I was watching a teenage boy…

He was holding babies who had special needs,

and I could see that his holding was helping them…

I also saw that he was keeping what he was taking on,

so that they could heal,

in his body…

I told him,

What you’re doing is amazing…

It is one of your gifts,

but it is making you sick…

And then I showed him how to clear his field,

and ground what wasn’t his to carry,

by neutralizing the energy,

and breathing it out,

as an ongoing practice,

until it becomes second nature…

A few years ago I found that I could get high,

not by ingesting foreign substances,

but just by looking at leaves flickering on the branches of a tree,

in a gentle breeze…

Quaking aspens,

and cottonwoods were my genius,

and species,

of choice…

Sometimes,

if I really relax my eyes,

I can find myself in the same place,

but it takes blocking out,

all of that interference,

trying to rub itself off,

on me…

About five years ago I was staring at trees,

down at the big park,

under the eagle’s nest,

when a woman whom I’d first met,

in a drama class,

during my professional development program,

to become a teacher,

stumbled by…

She is a bit of a cranky pants,

but we’ve seen each other,

in a couple of unusual situations,

including a receiving line,

during a teacher’s strike,

where we ended up hugging,

the head of the union,

at Nat Bailey Stadium…

And this time,

as I lay on the grass,

watching flickering leaves,

and getting high,

she told me a story,

from right out of the blue…

She said that when she was eight or so,

her home life was so bad that she wanted to die…

One day she fell off of her bike,

onto her head,

and into a coma…

On her death bed she remembers wanting desperately to stay in this light place,

but she was told that she needed to go back…

I interrupted her and said,

Did they tell you it was because your work on earth wasn’t finished yet???

She said,

Yes, that’s exactly what they said…

And they promised me that if I stayed I would get the little doll that I wanted,

and they would tell me THE secret of the Universe…

So even though I really didn’t want to,

I went back,

because I wanted a new doll,

and the information…

When I came to consciousness

my sister was there,

at my bedside,

with the new doll…

I’ve never told anyone else about this,

except for my sister…

Then she downloaded the extra information,

straight into me…

As if I’m going to put all of the cards on the table all at once…

I’m learning not to cough up everything I know,

without some C.O.D….

This fellow teacher and I hugged,

and said goodbye….

And even though she only lives a few blocks away,

I’ve never run into her again,

because she delivered the message,

and I heard it the first time,

so there’s no need for review…

On Saturday I took Starshine and Little Gem to see their little cousin,

that they love so much,

so I could get my hands on the cinnamon cat,

who I miss so much…

Within minutes of me walking into that apartment,

I was surrounded with a story about the parents of boys’ hockey,

and goalie pressure…

The kind of persistent aggressive pressure,

that could result in colitis,

Crohn’s disease,

asthma,

heart failure,

and a whole host of other symptoms,

if strategies for shielding,

and clearing other people’s unresolved issues,

and anxiety,

aren’t part of the game plan,

and specialized coaching…

The sensitivities that some of us have the capacity for,

because we’ve earned them,

require a tool kit beyond common sense…

And as soon as we start regular practice,

of what we learn,

our gifts can expand,

and go,

where we’re needed most…

Last weekend I found two cats,

online…

I knew they were the ones for me,

because the minute I saw them,

my heart was on fire…

And to top it all off,

bringing them home,

was one of the easiest things,

I’ve ever wanted to do…

All winter we got carried...

Ever green…

October 29, 2010

The river itself was like glass…

We walked slowly alongside it,

the heat of the day pressing heavily upon us…

A group of peasant women were laying out their laundry,

to bleach in the sun…

Tsila exchanged greetings with them,

her eyes assessing the quality of their linen…

I longed to dip my feet in the coolness of the water,

but I knew we were hurrying…

Tsila reached down,

cupped water in her hand,

and cooled first my face,

and then,

her own…

— in your mouth is lovely by Nancy Richler

While I was washing up the dishes today,

I remembered the first and only B.C. Lions game I ever attended,

It must have been back in 1980 or so,

because I had braces,

a middle part,

and yes,

zits…

Things haven’t changed that much since then…

I got my braces off a long time ago,

but last week my hair stylist tried to resurrect the middle part…

By the time I got to my car I’d corrected the resurrection,

and put everything back into its appropriate order…

I’ve never been one to call into radio stations,

but something must have possessed me back when I was twelve,

because I did once,

and won two tickets to a game a Swangard stadium…

My mother and her tap dancing friends were all over what I should do with the other ticket,

and made arrangements for one of their sons who was at least nineteen,

and managed the blue berry patch where I picked in the summers,

to take me…

Sometimes you think you’re growing up in Richmond,

in the 20th century,

but then you realize you’re in a village outside of Minsk,

in the 18oo’s,

playing out an age-old tale,

and it’s all equally awkward,

but this time you have a choice…

By the time I got to be twenty-two,

my best friend tried to set me up with a co-worker,

using a fax machine…

I remember being in the basement,

sitting with the dog at my mother’s desk,

when the fax came through,

with a drawing of a young man sitting on a motorcycle,

wearing a white undershirt,

and a speech bubble out of his mouth saying,

Interested in going for a ride on my crotch rocket???

I have a sense of humour,

I found this funny…

But I was always looking for something,

with a little more complexity,

and attention to detail…

Plus,

when we got face to face,

I knew he wasn’t my blood type…

I don’t have that fax in my possession any more,

as the image eventually faded away…

But last year I received a message on my voice-mail,

with an invitation to a by-election,

on North Road…

And as it turns out,

the guy from the fax is now a member of parliament,

with salmon sense…

Yesterday I spent the day making borscht,

because that’s what the weather called for…

I slow cooked some short ribs for nearly the whole day,

adding shredded beets,

and cabbage,

at the very last minute…

And today I watched two really beautiful interviews,

that hit a whole bunch of nails on the head,

of yoga,

meditation,

and radical practice…

I really couldn’t have said it better myself,

through a dissertation,

passed without revisions…

Tonight there was a knock at my door,

and I opened it to find my six year old neighbour,

with blue-green eyes,

wearing a Carhartt jacket,

just standing there,

with a gift,

all wrapped up,

in his golden cape…

As I opened up the presentation,

he said,

I made something for you…

All by myself…

The folds of the fabric

revealed,

sacred text…

All hand taped,

and full of living colour:

THE book of love,

from Chan…

The story begins like this,

once upon a time there was an old lady,

and an old man…

They were farmers…

They had tons and tons of sheep and goats and horses and cows…

And all the animals they had were happy…

This very special delivery,

left me speechless,

and wondering,

how,

anyone,

could ever say no to a dream,

that arrives on your front porch…

You are the first one of your kind... (photo: Starshine)

Shock therapy…

October 27, 2010

Okay,

so you’re a rocket scientist…

That don’t impress me much…

— Shania Twain

One of the questions that really seems to be,

on tip of people’s tongues these days,

is,

Are you still working on your Ph.D???

Inquiring minds want to know,

if,

I’m still engaged with my studies…

By now,

with all of their GD education,

everyone really should know better,

for the sake of Pete…

When I hear those kinds of things,

I explain that I’m going the honorary route,

as it stream lines everything,

by cutting down on expenses,

all that unnecessary paperwork,

and a need for approval…

And,

because,

in my book,

unless you’re on a circular stage,

wearing a pair of Levi’s,

and some boots,

in a stadium,

jam-packed full,

of screaming fans,

well,

your core messages,

about radical practice,

and educational change,

with an international platform,

are simply not going to be getting across,

in this day,

and age…

Basically,

I’m just a dirt road scholar,

with an axe to grind…

Monday morning,

6 am.,

I woke up from a terrifying,

yet exhilarating dream…

I was gathered with a group of people,

at the base of a mountaintop,

covered by a stand,

of giant evergreens…

We were watching trees,

being felled,

faster than the speed of sound,

for an invisible demon…

The resulting clear-cut,

exposed the tangled web,

underlying the system,

of stumpage fees,

and standardized assessment…

I stepped forward to discretely question,

one of the foresters…

I asked a woman,

wearing all of the right safety gear,

Why is this happening,

and can it be stopped???

And she told me,

with an intense fear of insecurity,

that I know from my own experience,

I wish it could,

but I don’t know how,

because the union is telling us what to do…

And a body,

holding hands,

with government,

is getting fat,

off the fruits,

of our labour…

An alarm sounded,

and an unidentified voice,

came on,

over the loudspeaker,

This is a life or death situation!!!

YOU must all get out of the way,

and move,

NOW!!!!

I didn’t know what to do,

to avoid the incredibly dangerous landslide,

fueled by a broken log-jam,

heading towards all of us…

But I knew that if I made the first move,

the others would follow…

So I closed my eyes,

and jumped,

off a cliff…

And when I landed,

the ground was so much softer,

than what I’d expected,

and there was a path,

off in the distance,

leading somewhere better,

and more secure,

than where we’d been stuck,

in all that thick mud…

Somewhere better,

and more secure than we could ever,

have imagined…

I have no idea what it all means,

but I do know that leaving home,

without my boomerang belt-buckle,

refusing to listen to what I’m being told,

and going to a psychotherapist to make sense,

of it all,

just ain’t an option,

because this is MY dream,

it’s collective,

and it speaks for itself…

The other day,

when I was driving Starshine to her soccer practice,

I told her I was going to send her coach an e-mail,

that if he doesn’t get her to the level where she can smoke the ball,

like his daughter can,

from one goal,

right into another,

by Christmas,

I was going to be taking our business elsewhere…

Starshine cried,

Mamaah…

You can’t do that!!!

It isn’t up to you,

this is MY team…

Then when she suddenly realized I was just,

pulling her leg,

she giggled,

asking me,

Mama,

Are you a physician,

or something???

I didn’t know what to say…

So I just looked at her,

with a megawatt smile,

and hand-cranked,

my portable generator,

up,

another notch

Blue skies from pain...