Darkest days and longest nights

Seemed that the night did not want to give up its hold this morning. Light slowly seeped into the grey sky and the day is quiet and still and definitely not bright. It is with great relief that I realize that we are done with the longest night and turn now into the sun. Even two minutes a day will be an improvement.

This winding down of the year is especially poignant and the summing up of the year's events will be momentous and joyful. This year, with Kai's arrival will be remembered as the year of his birth. Those dates are marked even long after we are gone. We are still celebrating Beethoven's birthday!

I am learning to embrace the rhythms of the seasons - not to struggle against the natural cycles and energies. This is a time of hibernation and sleep and my body knows that. At 4:30 when it is already dark, I am ready to close off my day and any efforts made to be active in the evening are challenging. I can barely stir from my warm bed in the morning. This all makes sense and somehow I have been unaware of the ebb and flow or else have insisted that it makes no difference. Nonsense!

And so I am drawn to summing up this week as the hustle and bustle of Christmas is upon us. I will take some time over these short days to consider what I want to celebrate about 2009 and what the first decade of this new millenium has meant to me. 2010 is a perfect opportunity to renew again - the beginning of a new 10 years that will have their own flavour as each new decade does.

I will continue to enjoy the baking and wrapping and preparation for the annual feast and gathering of the clan. I love the anticipation of stockings being unpacked with much laughter and fun and the presents being unwrapped and oohed and ahhed over. There will be much fuss made over our sweet baby and although he won't remember this first Christmas, we will!

Right now, a hummingbird is sipping sugar water from the feeder on my deck. I marvel over this resilient, brave little creature that defies the odds and logic and spends all winter here. Last week, in the snow, it seemed fantastic and amazing that a hummingbird would be flying outside my window yet there he was - symbol of all that is incredible and miraculous in the deep of winter!

can you stand one more blog about Christmas?

Although I can't promise this will be the last seasonal entry - this seasonal stuff sets off my sentimental and wondering little brain...

This has been a few days of contemplation and pondering about traditions and family and such. I am appreciating the different ways to celebrate. I am giving up that I need to have ALL my family under the same roof on Christmas morning in order to have a successful Christmas Day. I am understanding that giving my mom her wrapped presents early will make her Christmas morning cheery and will give her something to look forward to over the next couple of weeks. She may not get out of the house to get us anything more than a greeting card sent before the 25th. She will likely share her Christmas dinner with friends and family of theirs. Her clear desire to spend her remaining days in her own home means that our visits will be sporadic and rarely for more than a few days, barring emergencies. I cannot control how it all turns out any more than I can manage the weather.

At my daughter's house, the 9 foot real Christmas tree is decorated with 8 strings of lights and she has garnished it with ornaments old and new. The front yard is festive with outdoor lights for their first Christmas in the house they all share. She has the Advent Calendar hung that my mom made for my little ones to count down by putting another decoration on the felt Christmas tree each morning. While little Kai is blissfully unaware of the fuss and preparation, this is really in honour of him and the designation of 'family' that being blessed with him has created in that home.

I am ready to go back to my 'borrowed' house and pull out some more festive stuff and light up the place. I will play my favourite seasonal CD's and light up the miniature Christmas village for the sideboard to glow in the darkness of the next couple of long, long nights. I will anxiously watch the weather forecasts for inclement road conditions that might prevent both shopping trips and travel to gather with the family. I will bake shortbread and goodies to share with friends and I will plan an evening of celebration for one evening to eat and drink and laugh with friends.

This year's memories are not yet set so I can say how it will play out. It is with gladness and anticipation that I look forward to the coming days and the warmth of the love that is more important than anything at this time of year. Thanks for reading - this blog was a little gooey, the sweetness is getting to me.

bored in Calgary ... everything AND the kitchen sink

Sort of like 'Sleepless in Seattle' but not... I realize that my mom is aging - it is something I am coming to terms with on any number of levels, but I remembered tonight how much I hate cooking in the kitchen by myself. Mom is much happier ensconced in her recliner with reruns of reruns that are familiar to her. The cat is sleeping happily on the couch as she is elderly too, and even the remote possibility of food falling on the floor is no longer an enticement to hang out in the kitchen.

Now, I am blessed currently in my borrowed house to have a kitchen which extends into the open living room and it is easy to interact with anyone else who is nearby. This house, my childhood home, is more traditional (pause to pour more Carolans into the glass before the ice cubes melt - this is medicinal you see, to counteract the boredom) with the kitchen completely separate from any other human being in the house. I don't recall this being an issue when I was young, because the kitchen was the centre of all the action - food, kitchen table discussions, drama and tears by the sink and that was where my mom was most likely found. My mother was a working mother, unusual for my era, and once she came home, putting on her apron was probably the first thing she did after shedding her coat and shoes. She faithfully prepared meals during the week for us and on the weekend she would be whipping up cookies and dinners for the week ahead. Some of my favourite memories are in this kitchen.

- we used to have square linoleum that was exactly the right size for me to practice "first position" in ballet - my feet fit just right and the tea towel rack was sort of like the barre

- we always ate our meals at the kitchen table - the dining room table was for, well, stuff to be piled up on and occasionally company

- it was expected that my brother and I would trade off assisting with dishes (we couldn't be trusted to do them together - that was like igniting WWIII) so I would help my dad, mostly

- I learned more about the world doing dishes with my dad - we talked about politics, parenting, the state of the world, made up stories about the families would could see in the playground outside the backyard, visible from the window, told jokes and teased each other - it was pretty magic

- the only telephone in the house was between the kitchen and dining room and in order to talk to my girlfriends about 'private' stuff in earshot of everyone, we had to create codes for the secret stuff - talking to my first boyfriend endlessly from that phone was painful - I couldn't understand why we couldn't get an extension phone but that was beyond my family's means at the time

- even after I left home, whenever I came back, we gathered there around that table, being part of whatever was being cooked up - literally and figuratively

I imagined when I thought about this weekend with my mom - an early Christmas for her since she doesn't want to travel out to be with all of us - that we would be working together in the kitchen like we used to. It just isn't the same being there on my own. Perhaps tomorrow during another snowy day in Calgary, we can create something together - shortbread for Christmas, just like the olden days.

Okay, definitely time for more Carolans - and there might be a rerun that I would like to watch with her coming up next!

T'is the season...

Every December since I became conscious (wait, was that last year? or the year before?) I have been aware of this anticipation of the Christmas "feeling". I actually spent some time as a teenager (when I wasn't writing angst ridden poetry) contemplating what the feeling was and how to capture it as I matured (again, was that in 2007 or 2008?). I only knew that it was what I anticipated each year and it seemed, upon examination, to be equal parts waiting impatiently for the day to arrive, the preparation which included baking, shopping, wrapping and tree decorating and an ill described sense of goodwill to all men.

That goodwill bit, now described as an accounting term or an organization of assistance to those in the depths of despair, seems antiquated and quaint - Charles Dickens'ish. Yet that is the very embodiment of the Christmas spirit to me and every year since recollection has had me start this season of indulgence and merriment with a desire to share that goodwill with everyone.

I know that I am wrapped in the Currier and Ives vision of Christmas. I admit that I have expectations of how it is supposed to look and sound and smell. Last year, I created the closest recreation of that ever. The fresh pine tree, chopped down by my very own husband after tromping through a forest (okay, it was a Christmas tree plantation, but let me keep some of my illusions, alright?!), decorated carefully and lit up in the window of a house large enough to entertain my entire family. We had a fully laden larder, a fridge full of yummy food, an abundance of beverages and even gently falling snow. Perfect, right? Turned out that the snow slowed and almost completely derailed the family's arrival, with treacherous driving conditions. The abundance of (alcoholic) beverages was challenging to some of the members of the group and everyone woke up the next morning having to dash off before the weather closed in again. I was left at 10 am on Boxing Day with the consummate Christmas done in less than 24 hours, a messy, empty house and a ton of left overs with no one to share them with (except my grateful husband who loves turkey sandwiches).

In the week leading up to that event, I was so excited to be able to provide this amazing Christmas to share with my loved ones and truthfully, I treasured every single minute of it (except some of the beverage-induced silliness) and would do it again, but only if we could all enjoy it longer - people should plan on spending at least 5 or 6 days with me - before and after. Then. I would be happy.

Hmmm, perhaps there are some unrealistic expectations lurking here. What is genuinely there for me is that I almost don't want to begin a season of disappointment, so I am putting off even pulling out the decorations because if last year wasn't precisely ideal, given all the right conditions, how will I ever be able to have the Christmas that I dream of?

Now, my daughter has had her son and has asked to begin the passing down of the traditions, ornaments and celebration. This passing of the torch is appropriate and makes perfect sense that the next generation hosts and holds the family gathering. I am left, like I was in my bedroom as a 15 year old, wondering where the magic went. Time to read "Yes, Virginia, there IS a Santa Claus" "...Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world." Thank you, Francis P Church, Editor of the New York Sun.

I will find enchantment and charm this season. I will bake and cook and share lovely times with friends and loved ones. I will find ways to give and be generous and open. I will hang my stocking and eagerly watch for the sparkle and glow in the faces of those around me. I will hold the Spirit of Christmas in my heart!

Pondering on Friday

Having realized that I will, in fact, survive this week, evidenced by the very keystrokes on the keyboard that I am living and breathing proof that a tough work week rarely kills anyone (oh, except those that are employed in far more dangerous vocations than mine - of which there are many and I am sad to say some of them probably did not make it through this week), I am actually celebrating the arrival of Friday! And the sun - great Zeus (thanks, Extranjera -this oath is the BEST EVER) I had no idea how bleak my world would be if the sun never shone again -I don't think I would make it. I would be a dozing puddle of ineffectiveness, tear stained and pale, lethargic to the point of catatonia, blithering about sun salutations to wrathful and non-responsive sun god. Fortunately, that sun god is smiling on me today and the world is much brighter!

Conversations - I have been blessed by great conversations this week. With colleagues, with friends, with family - my world has been made up of words. I have seen through these dialogues that being on the brink of change, of the proverbial "paradigm shift" is an uncomfortable place. Like being face to face with our own way of being, considering a monumental divergence in how we thought this story was going to turn out, makes us squirm and wriggle and look for quick and easy exits. Timing is everything. My sense, intuition, that I am grappling with, constantly balancing trusting myself and others with healthy skepticism directs me to a belief, no, stronger than that, a faith in a generative outcome. One that generates growth. This evolution, of which I consider myself an evolutionary, is inevitable. Choosing how and where, while we still have the luxury of choice is the urgent message we are all hearing!

Considering "urgency" a value that I can add to those principles that direct me and support me is a new concept in this little mind. I have been much more of the "wait and see", "let's just take a breath here" kind of philosophy. More and more I can see evidence that challenges me to step up and grow a set.

(Strange, isn't it that having courage and conviction is described as "having balls"? Yet, the Dalai Lama said "The world will be saved by the western woman." Perhaps it is time to change that idiom to "growing some ovaries". Those I have and they have been perfectly functional, thank you!)

Well, sufficient ponderings for this Friday. Hey, let me know what you think - comments encouraged!!

(credit for the photo to orangeacid)

Away from home

It wasn't long ago that I used to regularly do this - travel away from home (usually far away and often to some sunny location), stay in an impersonal hotel room and arrange my life from a suitcase. Spending time working in a resort location where most people are on holidays has its own challenges and eventually the novelty wears thin and even the additional sunshine that you can view from an office window is not compensation enough. That, and the fact that I could no longer reconcile the lifestyles I was participating in selling with my stand for people and our planet.

Yet, here I am tapping away on my ancient laptop (this one goes back 3 employers ago, countless miles and keeps on ticking - even though it weighs, like 50 pounds) really enjoying the typical hotel room layout and even the little bottles of shampoo and conditioner. (pretty good quality here - you can tell where the hotels take shortcuts - crappy products in the bathroom!) There is something comforting about an anonymous hotel room - bonus, if you don't have to share it - which is how mine has turned out tonight and therefore, I don't have to talk at all, if I don't want to. Now, the view outside is on a cold, rainy Vancouver night, not exactly the palm trees and sandy beaches of yesteryear (oh wait, that was only 2 employers ago and merely a couple of years).

So, what is there to say? I almost didn't come over here as I felt odd about leaving, a strange sense of not wanting to leave home. I honoured my intuition and made sure that I created a safe travel bubble, stayed aware for unexpected upsets and just remained vigilant for any possible disruptions to the force. There was a 6.6 earthquake not too far away so maybe that was on my radar but I am consciously creating a space of learning and fellowship which seems to be paying off.

The dialogue during our learning today was fascinating. It is a facilitator training for Appreciative Inquiry which is a philosophy that is very dear to my heart. Not only does it describe the way that I view the world but this week I got clear about how to distinguish it from "positive thinking" which has all those gooey Pollyanna'ish attributes. Appreciative Inquiry (AI) is not positive - it is generative. That is, it creates a framework from which to inquire and therefore observe the best in people, organizations and systems. It is in its broadest sense a systematic discovery about what gives "life" to a living system when it is most effective. I have begun to study it in depth and this training that I am away from home for is another step towards more mastery in the discipline of facilitating it in my profession and in my life.

Today, we entered a dialogue in the course room about what it will take to shift the attention of the world from a deficit based world view. While it was acknowledged that there remains a vested interest in that position, surely there is a growing opportunity to find sufficient value in engaging in a new paradigm of thought that gives life force and energy to "change at the speed of imagination". I have discovered that this IS my life's work. Currently it is expressed through my coaching others and growing my coaching and training skills to the point where I can teach and facilitate for learners becoming excellent coaches and I am beginning to see the path which leads me even further in my commitment to a world that works - for every one.

Being distanced from the usual, removed from the familiar and spending some time with myself for company does make room for observation from an uncommon perspective. Nattering away as I do when in a room by myself, I discuss with myself the implications of my scrutiny of my behaviour and reactions and draw some interesting conclusions. I actually like my own company and perhaps because it is now a rare occasion that I have to spend hours alone, I value the manner in which my mind operates and honour the intuitive sense of forward direction that is clarified without distractions.

I miss home and the comfort and luxury of being well loved by my husband. I do appreciate the tremendous value in this introspective review and the new knowledge that I am advancing here. I will return refreshed and renewed. I have traded palm trees and extravagent heat for rain and some marvelous conversations - with others and myself!

Charter for Compassion - and now what?

Please watch this video, then go to this site and add your name, check out the other affirmers, peruse the events and ways to participate and tell me that you are not moved beyond your stodgy, cynical, "this will never change" perspective. I have followed the creation of this charter for many months and was honoured to receive the final version in my inbox this week.

I am left with some questions though... how will we know that a difference is being made? What will be the evidence that a shift IS occurring? How will the orphans of Gaza, the disappeared of Chile, the child soldiers of Somalia, the teenage hookers of East Vancouver know that we are making the world a better place?

Will the fat, apparently heartless corporate heads of the companies that exploit the poor and the helpless wake up tomorrow with a change of heart and give their profits to Save the Children Fund? Will the powerful leaders of countries that dominate and slaughter people in other parts of the world in the name of a "justifiable" defense suddenly smack their collective foreheads and call a cease fire everywhere? Will the angry gang member put down his gun and forgive the slight from the other side instead of getting in his car and shooting up someone's house in a driveby revenge?

What would have to happen to create that miracle?? In the face of all the magical, powerful, amazing openings that are being created every day by so many of us, how can we possibly know we have turned the corner and are not facing the inescapable end of human beings? What certainty can I give to my darling grandson that he will have an opportunity not just to live but to prosper and thrive in a world where the majority also share that future?

As I dwell in these questions, allowing the not-knowing to just be a part of what is present in my sunny office in the space where I was blessed to be born, I can look into my heart and realize that it is not possible to have a Hollywood type conclusion here. There seems to be some inexorable and unrelenting momentum propelling us to our future. The interpretation of what will result will be up to each individual.

I can, in the light of being a part of the creation of the Charter for Compassion, accept that one possible outcome will be that we pause a few years from now and look back on the progress we have made in a remarkably short period of time and experience wonder and joy for what work has been done and how this Charter was embraced by so many. Let it be so. Namaste.