smiles

Making another person smile is a very satisfying act of creation. Sometimes it's as easy as showing up, like today when my sweet R spied me coming toward her front yard and I had the pleasure not only of seeing her smile, but of having her run and fling herself in my arms for a good long hug. Sometimes it comes from the giving of a gift that's just right, like today when I gave Little House on the Prairie dress-up skirts to N and S who positively beamed at the thought of looking the part when they slip into the sister roles of Laura and Mary in play. Sometimes the smiles come when you listen and nod and listen and nod some more, like today when I heard a friend tell me about a significant part of her life journey. Sometimes the smiles bubble up like the bubbles in champagne, popping effervescently, like today when I got together with a friend and we shared our recent dating adventures/fiascos. Sometimes it's the thing that connects you briefly with a stranger, like today when I gave a passing stranger a compliment on her outfit as we crossed the street in different directions. It's particularly satisfying to transform tears into a smile, like today when I comforted little E after a tumble. And the beautiful thing about making someone smile is how, instantly, a smile pops up on your own face. Even the makers of MSN get it-- making smiley face emoticons available to (attempt to) compensate for the very impersonal nature of online chatting. I think making someone smile is the surest way of bringing a little sunshine your way. So, perhaps the surest way of ensuring personal happiness is to dedicate yourself to making others happy. It's all gift.

antihistamines

I'm not entirely sure what histamines are, but clearly they must be opposed. I was awakened at two this morning by the sound of someone sneezing their fool head off. Worse yet, it was ME sneezing my fool head off! Rapid onset allergic reaction. Itchy eyes, runny nose, incessant sneezing-- the works. How it is possible that a sufficient amount of pollen (or mystery allergen) ade its way into the slimly ajar windows of my seventh floor apartment is quite beyond me. Even more startling is the that I succumbed to such a reaction having no real history of allergies. Fortunately (or not) I'd had another such reaction on a visit to Ontario some months ago and still had some antihistamines on hand. They totally saved me, last night and today. God bless the makers of antihistamines!

tea

It was a rough day today and by 3:30 I'd about had it. So I stopped. Made myself a pot of tea. And got a grip. The restorative powers of tea are not to be underestimated. I have a few friends who understand this, who understand that even on the hottest day of summer, sometimes it's just necessary to stop for tea. Even the little girls in my life know a good time is had by all at a tea party. [I keep special china for them in my cupboards, to properly reinforce the behaviour in their impressionable young minds.] It may well be all placebo effect. It's possible that all the healiing properties of tea exist solely in the fact that one must stop, boil water, wait for the tea to steep, pour and sip. All that patient waiting. And then the patient sipping. It takes the pace of the day, and of racing thoughts and churning angst, down a notch. And so I offer this wee ode to tea, the beverage of sanity.

freckles

It was a gloriously sunny day today in Vancouver. So sunny, in fact, that with exposure limited to just my morning run and two short walks in the neighbourhood, I developed freckles on my face. The unmistakeable marks of spring!

Further to yesterday's post, I have another story of the crazed spring behaviour of rain-soaked Vancouverites: I had the pleasure of watching two young boys try to climb a tree just off the parking lot of the building next to me. (Yes, even city kids climb trees.) The one struggled and gave up after a few minutes. The other struggled, and struggled, hefted and pulled, and finally got himself seated in the crook of a branch about 7 feet off the ground. I heard gloating noises for a moment or two, then silence, then a wail, "How do I get down?!" Watching from the vantage of my seventh floor apartment window, I was unable to offer assistance. So, I did what anyone else would do in such a situation. I laughed. His mother came out to rescue him by talking him down. I hope his ego's not too bruised.

sandals

Running errands in my neighbourhood today I noticed a LOT of people out walking in sandals. Yes, sandals. Flip-flops, even. I think it was only about five degrees this morning, but it's true that it wasn't raining for a change. One woman I noticed, out walking her dog, was not only wearing sandals, but she had a kind of crazed look in her eyes. I couldn't quite place the look at first. And then the light went on: It's the look of spring. In Vancouver it's the look that comes over the faces of the folk who've suffered the most in the seemingly non-stop, daily rainfall-warning déluge of this time of year. In the moment I placed the look, I got the most vivid flashback from my childhood...

I remembered the ill-defined but definite ecstacy that would surge to the surface on the first day that it looked like winter was over. The temperature might have been only barely above zero, but if the snow was melting and the sun was shining, it was time to pull out a spring jacket and a skipping rope and play outside. No more winter games, it was time for the stuff of summer: skipping, hide and seek, hopscotch. We'd play until our hands froze, and then play a little longer in blissful denial. Sometimes the spring craze would hit so strongly that we'd go down to the river to put our bare feet in the water-- even when ice floes were still making their way down the St. Lawrence. We'd count to see how long we could leave our feet in the water before the pain got too overwhelming. Sometimes our feet turned blue.

This flashback was so vivid that I could practically smell the the residue of a full winter's sand and salt on the asphalt, and the new rubber smell of that year's skipping rope, and the ice water on my feet. There was time enough to offer this memory in the substance of a smile to the sandalled woman and her dog, now crossing my path. "Isn't it a glorious day?" she said, in response to my silent declaration. The crazed look piqued a little bit more in her eyes, perhaps because she knew I'd recognized its source? "Yes!" I replied, "And I can see you're enjoying it very much!" As was I. As was I.

family

All I can say is that the should-free policy really worked for me yesterday, so I gave it another crack today. It feels very much like I've had a normal, relaxing weekend, for the first time in ages. I still followed through with commitments and did housework and whatnot, but none of it felt like a burden. The topper was an evening with long time friends. One said, upon parting, "Wasn't that a great family time?" It was exactly that! The laughs over old times, remembrances, and the kind of teasing you can only get away with after some years together-- It was like a happy family reunion. I know there are things that one's chosen 'family' cannot imitate, and at some level nothing compares with blood ties, but I'm deeply thankful all the same for the 'family' I'm surrounded with here.

easier

I trust I'm not alone in the lament, "God, if it could just be a LITTLE bit easier!" In truth, I haven't uttered this lament for a while. It's not crossed my lips since I decided that absolutely everyone feels that way and whining doesn't help anything. But as I sat down to the computer to collect my thoughts on the day now behind me, this is the thought that came to me: Today was easier. The photo shoot I'd booked for this morning got postponed and the table hosting duties booked for this afternoon (at a local women's event) turned out to be unnecessary. The combined result of these developments was that I received the unexpected gift of time. Better yet, I didn't make the most efficient use of this "extra" time and, what's MORE, didn't feel guilty about that! I decided it needed to be a "should"-free day. In addition, I had a great run on the seawall, had a pretty good hair day, got a lovely compliment about looking good from two very stylish women, had two positive and entertaining conversations with strangers (men!), went out for a delicious dinner with friends, and played two (not one, but two) games of Scrabble. I would be remiss not to make note, also, of the fact that the rain stopped for the first time since Tuesday. I could see stars in the sky tonight.

All in all, an easy day. I may have sent up the lament an age ago, and may have even given up on it altogether, but it seemed to be answered today, and it was sweetness to my soul.

to know and be known

It is a fine thing indeed to be with people who "get" you. To be understood is perhaps the greatest gift of friendship. I spent the evening with W and J and family tonight. In addition to savouring a fine batch of bisquits and Irish Stew, a long cuddle with a content baby, and three stories with an appreciative two and a half year old, I also savoured the reality of being known. This showed itself most vividly in a brief conversation around what words I might use to describe the workshop portion of my business. I didn't have to do any explaining-- W and J were immediately on the same wavelength, in spite of their extreme fatigue and sleep-deprivation. I am thankful for the comfort and reassurance that comes from being known.

chipotle

I'm back to food highlights today, mostly because the rest of the day was spent toiling away at the computer and doing laundry. Today's truth and beauty moment belongs to the chipotle chili. The first level of enjoyment of chipotle chilis is, for me, the enjoyment found in a pretty quirky set of syllables. "Chipotle" is a seriously fun word, no matter how you pronounce it. On top of that, these smoky, sexy chilis add the most amazing flavour to mexican-style cooking. It doesn't do for me what fresh lemongrass and fresh basil does in Thai cuisine, but it's a taste sensation that takes my imagination to hot places, also often accompanied in my imagination with marimba music. Tonight, I reinterpreted a REBAR Modern Foods Cook Book recipe, fashioning enchiladas out of the basic ingredients for their yam and pepita quesidillas. Take the recommended roasted yam and honey-chipotle-tomato sauce filling amd add sour cream and spicy jalepeno Monterey Jack cheese. Wrap and nestle enchildas in a baking dish bath of chipotle sassed salsa. Top with more salsa and more cheese and bake until bubbly. Mmmm, gotta love chipotles!

daughter

I am many things to many people, but one of the first things I was, and one of the most important things I am, is a daughter. My mom couldn't sleep tonight, so at midnight (EST) she rang me, just to say good-night, just to connect to her only daughter. She wanted to hear my voice. "Now I've spoken to my son and my daughter tonight," she said, her heart full and now ready for rest.

I've learned a lot about loving from my mother, and would describe my heart as a mother-heart. I love the children in my life fiercely. Though none of them are "mine", I welcome their claims on my heart, even though I know heartache comes with such claims. I don't expect to give birth at this stage in my life, so it will ever be a mystery-- I'll never know if the love I feel for "my" little ones is equivalent to the love I would have felt for my own biological offspring. I know a woman who resembles me in many ways, who declared after becoming a mother later in life that the love she felt for her daughter was the same that she felt for other children in her life. I take some comfort in that. The question remains, though: When I'm seventy and sleepless at midnight, whom shall I call?

persuasion

Today's moment belongs to R, a three year old with tremendous powers of persuasion. I had a looooooong list of things to do waiting for me when I got up this morning, and I'd barely set foot on the to-do path when I got a phone call from R. She got straight to the point, "Want to go to the Aquarium today, Moaike?" All at once, nothing on the list made sense. I hadn't seen my sweet R for over a week, it was pouring rain outside, it was a perfect day for the Aquarium and she knew it. After a brief conversation with her father, I agreed to take her, at which point she added, "Can we ask H, too?" From there it snowballed into a veritable party-- with one thing leading to another we rounded up R's dad, R's sister, H, and H's brother, forming a proper little troop. It was a blast. Keeping track of four little explorers was challenging, but we managed. Otters, dolphins, Jelly fish, alligators, red ibis, turtles, snakes, sea stars and anemones-- It's a magical place. For me it's all the more magical getting to see it through the eyes of my precious babies, for whom it's all bigger and brighter and more amazing than it would otherwise be for a wizened adult. I thanked R at the end of our visit, for her brilliant idea. Her smile and the sparkle in her blue, blue eyes were icing on the cake.

spark

Today's highlight was talking to my friend, J, who just got back from Indonesia where she was exploring a partnership relationship with a YWAM mission base in/near Bali. J and I talk pretty regularly, usually about the kids, the house, the challenges of parenting, the cravings for time and sleep and breaks. She works hard, and gives a lot in her roles as mother, wife, friend. Today there was a spark in her voice, an energy I haven't heard for a while. She'd just had eight days to give of herself as a primary health care educator, a missionary, an independent woman (more to the point, a woman without dependents) in a location that inspired her, mind, body and soul. She made meaningful connections with new people, walked on the beach every morning, ate fabulous Indonesian food, checked out the basics of the neighbourhood with a view to taking her family there for a longer term stay. Her enthusiasm was infectious. It got me thinking about going to Indonesia myself. The spark she found in Indonesia seems to have lit a fire in me...

beauty

A picture's worth a thousand words...

collaboration

Being self-employed means that most of the time every aspect of the business is in my hands. Right now, I'm working on a new formulation of my business-- I'm trying to come up with a presentation that includes both the photography services I provide and the art of seeing workshops that I want to do more of. I've been nurturing these seeds of change for months now. These are changes that are all "in my hands" but so much feels beyond my reach. So, I've been reaching out...

Yesterday I met with a designer friend to talk about promotional material and our conversation was tremendously helpful in clarifying direction. Collaborating on the design of business cards and brochures brings out my creative energy in a way that just doesn't happen when I'm sitting alone with pen and paper, running ideas around in my head, my thoughts churning around like so much muddy water. When I have to explain and define and re-define the concepts for someone other than my inner critic, the silt settles and the waters run clear. Clearer, anyway.

Tonight I met friends for dinner and I asked them to help me come up with language to describe the workshop side of my business. Again, I had to get out of the muddy water I've been wading in for months. We batted around dozens of phrases. We laughed together, thought together, created and critiqued together and came up with "interactive visual inquiry workshops." It fits. And in the process, I've identified a dozen words to include in the text I use to present the workshops. Collaboration rocks.

I'm thankful for the wisdom that leads me to reach out with hands that would otherwise be grasping at straws. I'm thankful for the times when the confidence I need seems to surge up from some mysterious inner well. I'm thankful for the hands that now feel full and strong, thanks to the beauty of collaboration and the generosity of others.

rapids

It was a bit like being caught in the rapids today, navigating the waters of my schedule. There was work to do and wonderful people to meet and plans to make and dreams to dream and consolation to share. I generally try to avoid booking things back to back to back, but there was no avoiding it today and, remarkably, it didn't stress me out. It appears that back to back meetings are perfectly fine when they all involve positive interactions with great people. I shot through the rapids in my little kayak, expertly darting around the rocks and over and through the rushing waters. I felt like I knew what I was doing. All day. It was a strange and satisfying feeling.

"colour from the heart" quilting class

I went to my first quilting class today. When we were going around the table introducing ourselves I thought of saying that I figured I'd better get a head start on quilting so that when I really dig my heels in on the crazy-old-spinster thing, I won't have to feed seventeen cats. Then it occurred to me that I might be insulting some potentially crazy old spinsters also sitting around the table, so I just told everyone that I love colour and thought quilting might be a good pastime for a recovering perfectionist who needs to slow down. I confessed that as a child I kept the plastic casings off my dried up markers because I couldn't part with the colour, and I snuck around the hardware store at every possible opportunity, to steal paint chips for the sheer pleasure of surveying the colours. I still fantacize about my dream job-- being the one who gets to name all the colours on the paint chips and pantyhose of the world. It'd be grand.

Back to the quilting. While a big part of me feels like I'm undertaking a gargantuan task that I really don't have time for, the kid in me, the colour freak kid, really wants to do this quilting thing. Today we each designed a totally spontaneous crazy quilt and I fell in love with what appeared before me. I went directly to the fabric store after class and bought the necessary supplies for the rest of the course, and picked out fabric remnants with colours that made me smile. I feel excited about the possibility of playing with colour on a regular basis. I've been feeling lonely lately and while I don't think that quilting will directly address that, I do think that a solitude that is accessorized with colour and texture and warmth is a step in the right direction. It should take the edge off, at least.

domesticity

After pushing the limits over the past weeks with work obligations, it felt great today to settle into a bit of housework, particularly cooking. I find cooking highly therapeutic in itself and it feels great to have quality homemade food in the fridge and freezer. I made a double batch of three spice applesauce and a triple batch of prociutto-beef spaghetti bolognaise sauce. As I write, a little voice in the back of my mind is taunting me with "boring!" but I stand firm on the need to celebrate the simple things!

birth fest

Well, it's done. Birth Fest was a huge success. Having put in a monumental effort, together with my Birth Lounge colleagues, it was glorious to see our efforts rewarded with a fantastic turn-out. More than that, it turned out to be the kind of celebration we all had in mind. With live music and crowds of young families clearly enjoying themselves, it really felt like a party. It was particularly heartwarming for me to see former clients who'd made an effort to join in the fun, and to welcome friends to the event. I am also deeply thankful to have shared display space with my dear friends, the Pallisters, and their Jah Jireh Family Soapworks fare. We created a blended display which looked amazing, and also blended our efforts in shameless cross-promotion. I felt proud to be associated thoroughly and publically with such talented, capable, dear, dear, dear friends. It was a grand day.

birth lounge

Over the past several weeks, I've been working hard with a team of highly capable, creative, intelligent and energetic women. We call ourselves The Birth Lounge-- Eight service providers with a common clientele among Vancouver population of childbearing families. We've been meeting for about a year, holding monthly info sessions for the public and getting together to plan local promotions and to support one another as women entrepreneurs. We've been meeting more frequently lately because we're putting together a community wide festival "to celebrate bellies, birth and babies", Birth Fest. It's a big deal and a LOT of work. No single one of us would undertake to do such a thing alone. Even as part of a team, I've approached the breaking point. But we're a team, and by pooling our talents and resources and care, we're making it happen. Together, we feel not just capable, but strong. I'm thankful for the support and encouragement and inspiration of these fine women colleagues.

thrive

Tonight I took a much needed break to attend a reading by a former doula client of mine. Kurt Armstrong just completed his Arts Thesis and was presenting his wares. He wrote a collection of essays on the topic of marriage, The Means and the End is Love. More precisely, he poured out his heart and soul on paper, reflecting out loud on what, for him, is the challenging, rewarding, joyful, and painful experience of covenant love. His writing is eloquent and humble and tender and fierce. Apart from the fact that his passion for his wife and his commitment to marriage was so beautifully expressed, I found myself equally moved by the beauty of watching him thrive as a writer. What a gift it is to see a person follow his passion, persist past all manner of roadblocks and disappointments, and bring forth fruit. Would that we could all so thrive.

pride

The highlight today was the visible pride on the faces of each student in the class that I have the privilege of working with every Wednesday. I showed them a slide show (which they kept referring to as "the video") that I'd prepared using the photos I've taken of them and their work over the past two months. The photos show them presenting their work, discussing their ideas, debating, laughing, listening, watching. The images are rich. I put the show together to show them how impressed I am with their work and with the developments they've made in the realm of visual arts and communication. I wanted to encourage them for the last leg of our journey together on the Living Inquiry project. They got it. I'd braced myself for adolescent peanut gallery comments about their classmates, but instead heard them affirm eachother and saw them smile and laugh with pride when they saw themselves on screen. They were clearly delighted and affirmed. It was so satisfying to see that. They burst into applause after every showing (we saw it three times, at their request), as much for themselves as to thank me for the show. They also applauded when I read out the lyrics to the chorus of the song I'd chosen to accompany the slide show. It was "Time of Your Song" by American Hassidic Jewish Reggae musician/singer Matisyahu (my current fave), and I read the lyrics in my best Jamaican accent for the fun of it. Really, there was SO much good feeling in the classroom today. Truly beautiful.

overachievers anonymous

It appears that I completely forgot to compose a Truth and Beauty entry yesterday. I didn't realize it until this moment. This underlines for me the thought that's been nagging me like a pesky mosquito buzzing around the back of my head all day: I need to slow down. Now this particular mosquito has been with me for a very, very long time. My propensity to over do it has undermined my health to varying degrees over the years, and I've worked hard to keep it in check. Every time I think I've gotten a grip on it, it pulls me down the frenzied garden path for another round.

I had a conversation with my mom and dad a couple of days ago and heard my mother saying the same thing about the various projects she's got on the go, the endless list of things to do. "Oh well, mom, at least we never run the risk of being bored!" I said. My mother is 70 years old and she still hasn't gotten a handle on it. Is there hope for me?

This is the part of the blog entry where I'm supposed to come up with something redemptive and hopeful. Sadly, I can't come up with anything like that at the moment. Is there some consolation in the fact that I slowed down enough to make soup today even if I did so knowing that for the next few days I'd barely have time to stop to fix anything healthy to eat, so I'd better have something quick and easy on hand? It's a step in the right direction. I hope.

retreat

I spun a little coccoon around myself for most of the day today. I was feeling raw and weary and overwhelmed and my gut instinct (the self-preservation instinct) told me to stay in and focus on my home. If you've been reading the blog over the last week, you'll have noticed that my apartment has been in a state of upheaval thanks to bedbugs. I realized today that by turning my apartment into a battlefront, I lost my sense of sanctuary, of HOME. So, for most of the day today, I worked to find a way to organize my things so that I could have a sense of home in spite of the lasting reminders of the beastie bug seige. I also came up with a plan to tackle the monumental list of things to do that faces me this week. I feel more grounded, more at peace, having carved out a space for myself and my work that feels more manageable. When I went out this evening for a quick bite to eat with friends and then on to a Birth Lounge meeting, I found myself feeling more relaxed than I have felt for ages. It's going to be okay.

open

Little moments to be thankful for today, moments when I found myself in conversation with strangers. I suppose "conversation" might not be the right term. More like brief exchanges, little exchanges of humanity. I was unusually open to it today-- open to connecting with strangers. Some days I'm just a bit more willing to reach out and risk that kind of connecting. I don't think it's that I'm more confident or patient or gregarious on such days-- I couldn't really say what factors are involved. I'm aware of people's desire to connect most of the time-- the world is FULL of lonely people-- but I guess I don't always feel I have much to give. Today, I listened and spoke with the clerk at Safeway, the elderly woman on the third floor, the guy at Norman's who didn't know how to cook the bok choy he just bought, the clerk at Santa Barbara market, the homeless guy crossing the street with me, my new neighbour on the sixth floor. It doesn't take long to connect, really. Just the seconds or minutes surrounding a shopping purchase or a trip on the elevator, or the wait for a light to change so you can cross the street. I dare to believe it makes a difference to be noticed, and to be open to noticing.

connection

I had the good pleasure of getting together with an "old" friend today. We used to support one another in our doula work and became good friends in addition to supportive colleagues. In our doula hey-day we spoke almost every day, saw each other most weeks, had long de-brief conversations after births, showed up in the labour room to provide relief for each other, planned and dreamed doula dreams. The beautiful thing is, in spite of the fact that I am no longer a practicing doula and haven't been for almost two years, we're still friends. We don't talk as often, but when we do we can talk as freely and enthusiastically about life, the universe and everything. We enjoy each others' company. We laugh. We understand each other. That kind of friendship is precious indeed.

sparkle and shine

I took a break from retouching work and the demands of putting my apartment back together again after the pest control nuisance to make a nametag for an upcoming event, Birthfest, which I'm helping to host. All the hosts (the Birth Lounge babes, see www.birthlounge.com) will be making their own nametags, using the most "bling" possible. I love that I get to work alongside a fabulous network of capable and creative women who also see the value of sparkle and shine in the little things, like nametags. I love that as part of my JOB, I got to create a funky little nametag to tell the world who I am, fully studded with dollar store rhinestones and stickers. I think I might even break out my rhinestone-studded false eyelashes for Birthfest. Why miss a chance for that kind of fun?