Today will be my third day, of a block of five shifts, at the residential care facility I work at. It is a short four hour shift (beginning at 5p.m.) I took them somewhat on speculation. They allow me plenty of time before hand to go to the gym and or, go out and do some busking. There is always the potential to "extend" the shift if they are short staffed or one of the full time people, decides they would like to leave early. All part of the game of looking to creatively expand myself and my cash flow along the way.
I came into town early to do some busking. I like to mix up my locations some; so as not to wear out my welcome, in any one spot. I was a little surprised to find the library court available, so I wasted no time in getting set up and proceeded to do my thing.
While I was playing I couldn't help but notice a considerably higher number than usual, concentration of "super heroes" milling about. There were "supermen," some that wouldn't have exceeded two feet in height. Batman and Spiderman was well represented. And it wasn't just some of Victoria's toddler population participating, there were adults living out there favourite alter ego's as well. "The Flash" Green Lantern, Captain America and beyond that my fluency with these characters wanes. But there was one fellow, who to me looked like one of the Ninja Turtles - without the shell. Some of the "adult costumes" appeared to be more than just thrown together on a whim and likely represented a fair financial outlay. Perhaps Victoria is far more guarded against the forces of evil than I ever realized. I'm pretty sure, some of these characters, were into their roles more, than on a one off basis.
Perhaps this was why some of my busking counterparts had given the courtyard a wide berth today. Once I got going I thought - what the hell, just adds to the atmosphere!? It was chaos in there (at least by my estimation) there were little crime fighters running all over the place. The acoustics that are so favourable for musical performance, also happen to provide young justice league members, with a delightful sonic response to their shrieking!! They were running all up and around where I was performing, some playing "hide and seek" with me around the large metallic sculpture, that forms the centre of the platform I was on. Unquestionably it was one of the less financially lucrative sessions I've had in there. it was however, the perfect opportunity to practice holding my centre - while there was considerably stirring around me. In this I remained unflappable - in fact there were more parents that were pulled from their centre, voicing their concerns to the kids about "disrupting me." I told them not to worry. I was relishing in all that free flowing exuberance and expression; playing in the streets (in part) represents an aspect of that for me. I understand the "need" for parents to give children "boundaries" (banks to their river) but as one, who might have been said, to have had my river damed, to the point of it being a motionless pool of stagnation - I love to see the openness and free-floating joy of children.
There were various little ones that kept coming back to the platform - one beautiful little "Shirley Temple - esque" girl kept coming back, showing me her "Scooby-do" button and told me she was going to dance! "Alright then - Dance, Dance Little Sister Dance!" It touches me deeply that not just on this day, but frequently, little ones feel ok to approach me and interact. There were places and times in my life, where I had absolutely no idea how to be around children, and I perceived they were scared of me (I never would have harmed a hair on any one of their heads - but maybe it was just a vibe I gave off) all of which just fed my stories of self-contempt). I just did my best to avoid situations where I would be put in the position to have to interact, even though it was another source of pain.
Before leaving that spot a women who had stopped to listen to whatever I was singing at the moment and was swaying in the courtyard with the music - I love the co-creation of those kind of collaborative moments; approached closer, to the platform and sang the most beautiful harmonies to my rendition of "Hallelujah." We finished the song and I turned to acknowledge her, she says to me "thank you - I sing sometimes" I responded thank you, that was beautiful, and yes I hear, you most certainly do sing! Thank you for your amazing contribution!! At that point I felt "my work" there was done and decided to move on.
I wandered some of the other downtown areas that I have played in the past - I didn't want to go to far a field as I wanted time to get home and relax before working tonight. Everywhere I had in mind was already featuring a performance in progress. I decided to check one more spot, that I had seen people play in the past (but that I had never tried) - as it turns out it was vacant; it even had a beautiful shade providing tree! I love a bright sunny day - but even more I like the to enjoy it - in the shade!
The most important factor regarding varying my location (beyond financial return - which in the long run is still relevant) is that I not get to believing that I can only be "ok" in certain locations). Certainly I continue to ply the waters of the "tried and true," however, I want to expand my experience and knowing; that those waters run within me, not the street corner I'm standing on. It's a little like going to a workshop or class and many return to the same seat each day; I have done it and seen it done. I give myself permission to grab something to anchor myself when necessary, but at the same time, intending to prove to myself; I can bring the anchor with me and thereby have another experience and perspective elsewhere. Where "busking" is concerned if I were to hold to the same spots all the time - that could then mean if someone is already there - I must go home or wait until they're done. In effect I have handed the person or the situation my power. The greater recognition is that if I do this in the realm of busking there is a very good chance it is a way of being in other areas of my life too!
There is far more going on than me, just offering "oldies" on the street corner (for me anyway, it's an ongoing forum of expansion and discovery) - but without question and with deep gratitude, I will accept your money as well!!
Saturday, 7 May 2016
Hands of Clay - Hearts of Gold
Beyond the veil two souls commiserate
"We played our cards well"
Though he stumbles and falls
Not an easy path we set him upon
That tenacity you fostered in him
Serves well, destiny's trajectory
It was nearly the death of me
However an indomitable spirit
Requires an extraordinary crucible
I wasn't sure I was equal to task
You couldn't have known
I bore him
That you would raise him
The pain of bringing him in
Was nothing to letting him go
But you had to bare his rage
Wasn't that something?
For so long it appeared
It might well be his demise
There was nothing to be done
It was up to him
To take the dragon by the tail
Ours was to love him at arms length
He would have it no other way
Bull-headed and Stubborn as the day is long
Is that not what you said of him
Aye, he could try the patience of the Good Lord himself
As you well know
The phoenix would have stayed in the ashes
If it were any other way
We followed the agreement to the letter
At times I feared the worst
But he would not be broken
The earth walk
For our time is over
Do we still then guide from here
Only when and if he asks
"We played our cards well"
Though he stumbles and falls
Not an easy path we set him upon
That tenacity you fostered in him
Serves well, destiny's trajectory
It was nearly the death of me
However an indomitable spirit
Requires an extraordinary crucible
I wasn't sure I was equal to task
You couldn't have known
I bore him
That you would raise him
The pain of bringing him in
Was nothing to letting him go
But you had to bare his rage
Wasn't that something?
For so long it appeared
It might well be his demise
There was nothing to be done
It was up to him
To take the dragon by the tail
Ours was to love him at arms length
He would have it no other way
Bull-headed and Stubborn as the day is long
Is that not what you said of him
Aye, he could try the patience of the Good Lord himself
As you well know
The phoenix would have stayed in the ashes
If it were any other way
We followed the agreement to the letter
At times I feared the worst
But he would not be broken
The earth walk
For our time is over
Do we still then guide from here
Only when and if he asks
Friday, 6 May 2016
Belfast or Bust!
What I believe to be the transparent nature of my writing with regard to laying bare various aspects of my experience and "life's story" (which of course is still being written) is what I hope others will be inspired by to search within themselves; to seek, to stretch, to dream and to reach and realize their visions. I haven't always been one to learn from the "mistakes" of others and there is nothing I can do now about the mistakes I've made; however, if others could avoid some of the pitfalls I inhabited how could it matter if I am cast as the buffoon - it will have served a greater good.
One of my visions was (and is) to be a writer. I believe in hindsight I have been "training" for this vocation most of my life, without even realizing it; primarily through reading. Even when my life in so many ways, was the proverbial train wreck, I continued to read. For the most part I read non-fiction. In particular I read books on psychology, philosophy, spirituality, human development, wellness. Not exactly "light reading" but regardless, I couldn't get enough.
In part I suppose I was looking for answers to the quandary of my own life. Beyond that, I truly sought to understand the "human condition" to try and and conceive of a way to address the suffering I witnessed all around me. I secretly fancied myself to humanities, some sort of "crash test dummy" and surly, if I survived the rack and ruin of some of the chapters of my life, I could help guide others.
At the age of twenty I entered training in nursing it was to be the beginning of my recognition in the incongruence of "what I knew" and how I lived. When I first started my "health care" path I was smoking cigarettes (amongst other things). Something clearly and unequivocally told me - you can't be a "role model" of health and still be smoking! That was it then, I quit. It was as simple as that. Of course it was to be another seven or eight years before some of my other "vices" were surrendered - which is what it took for me to admit I was no longer in control (if I ever was); but that's another story.
There has been considerable water under the bridge since then. I worked pretty much full time in "health care" for twenty-nine years. Throughout those years the work, the patients and those in and around the "system,"continued to mirror for me, the incongruence of "what I knew" and how I lived. I felt compelled to "walk my talk" and "be the change" (even before I'd heard the phrase). I knew all too well that intellectual knowledge in and of itself, was useless.
I have read hundreds of books and have been inspired by the accounts of expanded consciousness and possibility. I have conducted the experiments - reaped the benefits and other times crashed and burned. I want to have my life serve and benefit others. I want to write and want to inspire - more accurately, I want the creative intelligent source of all that it is (call it what you will) to inspire through me.
I still maintain, that I will not sit and suggest to anyone else they go after their dreams, unless I am doing just that in my own life. The ground work began years ago, when my long term marriage ended, eight years ago - I left my long standing career and began "pushing the envelope" in every conceivable direction. I have taken both singing/playing guitar and writing, from the obscurity of my front room and hard drive respectively, and pushed them out into more "public domain." The former generates an income of sorts, the latter is still carving a path through the wilderness.
I have needed to find it within myself to establish and pursue my dreams. Of course I'm "no island" but if my experience is anything to go by, one can't expect a squad of cheerleaders continually urging you on. It certainly isn't straight forward and I have considered quitting many times. "Quit" what does that mean anyway? Quit writing? Quit singing? Quit eating? Quit breathing? What would it resolve? Nothing! It's not an option!
Of course I have quit at certain points in time and I have the experience of the corresponding consequences. Some of the things I've "tried" were for the express purpose of providing me with experiences to clarify what I didn't want; which pushes one toward more clarity of what is wanted.
I certainly will never be able to tell anyone that following your heart and passions is a "cake walk" and once you decide to do so, your road will be paved with lollipops and rainbows. What I want to be able to demonstrate is that it is worth it. For me failure on the road of my dreams is still preferable to not going for it.
Within the dreams I've already stated, the latest vision I have declared is to be in Belfast, Ireland this September 2016. Northern Ireland represents ancestral ties, culture, spirituality and history that are mine, but that I have for the most part, I've been alienated from.
I don't know if getting there is the beginning or the end; could be that it is both, though of what, I really don't know. Again I can't really expect any fanfare over my decision to go, my arrival there or anything that I go through in order to get there. I know that decision is working on me as I'm sure all other aspects of the journey will as well. It is four months away - but it has begun.
I can't live small and advocate dreaming big, for others.
I know resignation! I know stagnation! I know desperation! I know frustration!
My intention is that I will know and define myself as so much more than these and then I will mirror it to anyone who cares to see it in themselves!
One of my visions was (and is) to be a writer. I believe in hindsight I have been "training" for this vocation most of my life, without even realizing it; primarily through reading. Even when my life in so many ways, was the proverbial train wreck, I continued to read. For the most part I read non-fiction. In particular I read books on psychology, philosophy, spirituality, human development, wellness. Not exactly "light reading" but regardless, I couldn't get enough.
In part I suppose I was looking for answers to the quandary of my own life. Beyond that, I truly sought to understand the "human condition" to try and and conceive of a way to address the suffering I witnessed all around me. I secretly fancied myself to humanities, some sort of "crash test dummy" and surly, if I survived the rack and ruin of some of the chapters of my life, I could help guide others.
At the age of twenty I entered training in nursing it was to be the beginning of my recognition in the incongruence of "what I knew" and how I lived. When I first started my "health care" path I was smoking cigarettes (amongst other things). Something clearly and unequivocally told me - you can't be a "role model" of health and still be smoking! That was it then, I quit. It was as simple as that. Of course it was to be another seven or eight years before some of my other "vices" were surrendered - which is what it took for me to admit I was no longer in control (if I ever was); but that's another story.
There has been considerable water under the bridge since then. I worked pretty much full time in "health care" for twenty-nine years. Throughout those years the work, the patients and those in and around the "system,"continued to mirror for me, the incongruence of "what I knew" and how I lived. I felt compelled to "walk my talk" and "be the change" (even before I'd heard the phrase). I knew all too well that intellectual knowledge in and of itself, was useless.
I have read hundreds of books and have been inspired by the accounts of expanded consciousness and possibility. I have conducted the experiments - reaped the benefits and other times crashed and burned. I want to have my life serve and benefit others. I want to write and want to inspire - more accurately, I want the creative intelligent source of all that it is (call it what you will) to inspire through me.
I still maintain, that I will not sit and suggest to anyone else they go after their dreams, unless I am doing just that in my own life. The ground work began years ago, when my long term marriage ended, eight years ago - I left my long standing career and began "pushing the envelope" in every conceivable direction. I have taken both singing/playing guitar and writing, from the obscurity of my front room and hard drive respectively, and pushed them out into more "public domain." The former generates an income of sorts, the latter is still carving a path through the wilderness.
I have needed to find it within myself to establish and pursue my dreams. Of course I'm "no island" but if my experience is anything to go by, one can't expect a squad of cheerleaders continually urging you on. It certainly isn't straight forward and I have considered quitting many times. "Quit" what does that mean anyway? Quit writing? Quit singing? Quit eating? Quit breathing? What would it resolve? Nothing! It's not an option!
Of course I have quit at certain points in time and I have the experience of the corresponding consequences. Some of the things I've "tried" were for the express purpose of providing me with experiences to clarify what I didn't want; which pushes one toward more clarity of what is wanted.
I certainly will never be able to tell anyone that following your heart and passions is a "cake walk" and once you decide to do so, your road will be paved with lollipops and rainbows. What I want to be able to demonstrate is that it is worth it. For me failure on the road of my dreams is still preferable to not going for it.
Within the dreams I've already stated, the latest vision I have declared is to be in Belfast, Ireland this September 2016. Northern Ireland represents ancestral ties, culture, spirituality and history that are mine, but that I have for the most part, I've been alienated from.
I don't know if getting there is the beginning or the end; could be that it is both, though of what, I really don't know. Again I can't really expect any fanfare over my decision to go, my arrival there or anything that I go through in order to get there. I know that decision is working on me as I'm sure all other aspects of the journey will as well. It is four months away - but it has begun.
I can't live small and advocate dreaming big, for others.
I know resignation! I know stagnation! I know desperation! I know frustration!
My intention is that I will know and define myself as so much more than these and then I will mirror it to anyone who cares to see it in themselves!
Thursday, 5 May 2016
Ode to an Addict
You climbed into the chamber of society's ambivalent gun
Willingly and insidiously you became the projectile - martyrdom
A scapegoat to be aimed with intent
Like a suicide bomber
Targeting the collective vulnerability and hopelessness
Of a culture eating it's own tail.
Your sacrifice upon the altar of consumption
Will be said to be collateral damage
In the covert operation
To thwart the feared plague
Of self-destruction
About to break down
The wall
Comprised of the brick and stones
Of their compulsions.
No surprise you inhabit the shadows
Plying the hours between dusk and dawn
You have unwittingly
Agreed to embody
And starkly wear
All those attributes
That many -Will Not - see
In their own mirrors.
The shadow defines you
The shadow conceals you
The shadow consumes you
The monument to your being
- CONTEMPT -
I honour in you what the world refused to see.
I grieve that your presence was perhaps laid to waste.
Seeds upon barren ground
The world is lessened:
By
Your
Unfinished
Symphony.
I see you.
I love you.
God Bless You.
Willingly and insidiously you became the projectile - martyrdom
A scapegoat to be aimed with intent
Like a suicide bomber
Targeting the collective vulnerability and hopelessness
Of a culture eating it's own tail.
Your sacrifice upon the altar of consumption
Will be said to be collateral damage
In the covert operation
To thwart the feared plague
Of self-destruction
About to break down
The wall
Comprised of the brick and stones
Of their compulsions.
No surprise you inhabit the shadows
Plying the hours between dusk and dawn
You have unwittingly
Agreed to embody
And starkly wear
All those attributes
That many -Will Not - see
In their own mirrors.
The shadow defines you
The shadow conceals you
The shadow consumes you
The monument to your being
- CONTEMPT -
I honour in you what the world refused to see.
I grieve that your presence was perhaps laid to waste.
Seeds upon barren ground
The world is lessened:
By
Your
Unfinished
Symphony.
I see you.
I love you.
God Bless You.
"Home" Improvements
Not always the case, but again today, the current post begins with a footnote related to the previous one. The new bike seat I purchased yesterday I immediately installed, which became the catalyst and motivator to get to the gym in the afternoon. My suggested strategy to get out and exercise - whatever it takes and whatever form you choose. For me, later in the day creates increased challenges as I seem to think/feel by then, any need to exert myself has passed. So this opportunity to test drive my new seat provided the needed boost to come home and get back out the door again.
What a difference! Such a simple alteration, it's like night and day! Now in addition to the exercise, wind in my face, commuting ease, and heightened sense of connection to my surroundings; I can add comfort!
Don't get me wrong, when I say sometimes a profound transformation is dead easy! I'd be the first one to say some aspects of transformation are anything but easy. But some significant changes are just on the other side of the veil - albeit a veil that might present as a stone wall. I'm reminded of a period of time (quite extended period I might add) that I "had to" mop up my bathroom floor after every shower. No matter how I arranged the curtain liner (even had one with the magnets to hold it in place) there was still puddles on the floor. Damn curtain is too short! That was the sum total of any action I took! From that point forward showers continued with varying degrees of frustration or at best, courted the permanence of resignation. Then one day in a flash of brilliance (God knows where that came from) it donned on me - I could lower the curtain rod! Unlike many that are fixed in place, mine was adjustable and telescoped so that it wedged between the two walls. Why didn't I think of this before? Probably because I was too intent on focusing on the "problem." As you may have guessed, the simple "fix" was highly effective, no more mopping!
I began this post addressing exercise and it is there that I will now return. As it happens what exercise and my digressive story have in common is: "you can't think yourself into better results." (at least I can't - if it were possible, I'd have moved mountains by now!)
Today I don't work until quite a bit later in the afternoon so I decided to get out for some exercise early! I rode my bike again - oh it's a beautiful thing; and got to the rec. centre between 8:00 & 8:30 a.m. This meant I could do whatever I felt like in terms of exercise before all the seniors arrived for their group fitness classes. On the one hand seeing these folks out staying active and engaged is inspiring; on the other hand the gym gets congested and I prefer to be able to get in and get out, without my flow be disrupted.
Staying active, seniors, fitness, action (inspired or otherwise) all themes that will continue through the remainder of this post.
I allowed myself today the opportunity to receive some reflection on the progress of my vision of resurrected fitness. I chose a route for the trip home that included a fairly long steep hill. I rode the entire hill sitting down (on that glorious new seat) - previously it had not been possible to make the hill without standing and pedalling after about halfway. It's very gratifying to experience these performance improvements; particularly when resuming or just starting a new fit commitment. Thought there can be some degree of rebound feel good in the early going - by and large it is just hard work.
Why the rekindled interest in exercise? Well.. to borrow a phrase that the fitness industry used to toss around (maybe they still do) my interest centers around being "functionally fit." Aesthetics don't float my boat in a big way (at least not enough to keep me showing up) sure it's great to look healthy etc. but I want to continue to perform and enjoy activities with low to moderate physical demand, without undue strain. Essentially in order to continue to enjoy an active life, I must "train" actively.
Given my extended focus on such sedentary activities as reading, writing, meditation, until recently netflix and recreational navel-gazing, my once able body was becoming increasingly un-able.
When I got home I was eating breakfast and reading an article in a "Hospital Employees Union" newsletter which cited seniors care facilities as some of the "most dangerous workplaces in terms of violence and strain-related injuries."
As it happens over the last year I have resumed working in these very environments. One floor is focused more on residents with head injuries or other cognitive impairment that lends to the potential for the violence (via aggressive behaviour) and as many have a variety of physical impairment the risk to caregivers, for strain-related injury, is high. The other floor is moving toward a focus as a seniors rehab, so while the cognitive impairment might not be as prevalent, the physical demands are ever present.
I watched the senior at the rec. centre going through their circuit training and/or individual programs with physios/kinesiologists; they are working on strength, balance, stabilizing, endurance, flexibility. All these factors are every bit as important for someone my age and none of them can be thought into existence or maintained; let alone improved.
Those being "pro-active" can lessen (but not eliminate entirely) the likelihood of joining the ranks at the rehab facility; of course one could still injure themselves in daily activity or even while exercising. If they are among those that require "hospitalization" then I will be working with them as one of the team of caregivers that participates in their return to their own homes. In order to perform the daily requirements of my job, I must bend, stoop, squat, lunge, reach, stretch, lift, carry and push. As this is part of my livelihood currently and for the foreseeable future, I need to be able to withstand the very physical demands of the job. If not, the caregiver can become the cared for, very abruptly. Over the course of my long-standing career I have seen many of my co-workers go off (some with career ending and life altering injuries). This is not going to be me - but it could be.
As said, I have had phases of inactivity and they have had a corresponding detrimental effect. I remember a P.E. teacher in grade nine - lecturing us about inactivity and poor eating habits; I can still hear his South African accent as he states "the next thing you know you have a rather large corporation around your mid-section, your range of motion is decreased, your spine and hips are pulled out of alignment you experience low back pain and you lack the energy you once had. You know what - he was right!
I was experiencing the back pain, the decreased flexibility, I developed agonizing pain in my feet and indeed my stamina and endurance were on the decline.
The decline that leads to hospitalization for some seniors doesn't happen over night - it is an accumulative decline that begins years prior to an acute onset of some trauma or injury. The body is "designed" to be in motion. Maintenance of it's many functions calls for activities that take it through many planes of movement. Muscles intended for balance and stabilization simply atrophy in a lifestyle where the only balancing involves; keeping a tray containing chips, salsa and a soda upright while folded in the recliner chair.
The bottom line for me was I was much too young to feel so damn old. I can accept the impermanence of my human existence etc. but I don't intend to orchestrate an accelerated decline. So a comeback trail is in the works. To all my yogi/yogini friends, I love you, but it might be some time yet (if ever) that I join you on the floor for extended sits. From here on in, I will ask my body what it wants and needs; I will not place demands on it based on what others "can do." I have experienced innumerable cycles of relative wellness and then injury. I have asserted demands on my body beyond what was reasonable, I have demeaned and criticized my body while comparing it to that of others, I have hurt and neglected my body; it is enough!
It is time that I honour my beautiful body, that which has carried me through life, provided my soul a residence - allowed me to experience so many facets of what it is to be human; the reverence and respect, that is it's due.
I want to do everything in my power to withdraw from the zombie apocalypse of the walking wounded and to celebrate life from the temple - my body!
What a difference! Such a simple alteration, it's like night and day! Now in addition to the exercise, wind in my face, commuting ease, and heightened sense of connection to my surroundings; I can add comfort!
Don't get me wrong, when I say sometimes a profound transformation is dead easy! I'd be the first one to say some aspects of transformation are anything but easy. But some significant changes are just on the other side of the veil - albeit a veil that might present as a stone wall. I'm reminded of a period of time (quite extended period I might add) that I "had to" mop up my bathroom floor after every shower. No matter how I arranged the curtain liner (even had one with the magnets to hold it in place) there was still puddles on the floor. Damn curtain is too short! That was the sum total of any action I took! From that point forward showers continued with varying degrees of frustration or at best, courted the permanence of resignation. Then one day in a flash of brilliance (God knows where that came from) it donned on me - I could lower the curtain rod! Unlike many that are fixed in place, mine was adjustable and telescoped so that it wedged between the two walls. Why didn't I think of this before? Probably because I was too intent on focusing on the "problem." As you may have guessed, the simple "fix" was highly effective, no more mopping!
I began this post addressing exercise and it is there that I will now return. As it happens what exercise and my digressive story have in common is: "you can't think yourself into better results." (at least I can't - if it were possible, I'd have moved mountains by now!)
Today I don't work until quite a bit later in the afternoon so I decided to get out for some exercise early! I rode my bike again - oh it's a beautiful thing; and got to the rec. centre between 8:00 & 8:30 a.m. This meant I could do whatever I felt like in terms of exercise before all the seniors arrived for their group fitness classes. On the one hand seeing these folks out staying active and engaged is inspiring; on the other hand the gym gets congested and I prefer to be able to get in and get out, without my flow be disrupted.
Staying active, seniors, fitness, action (inspired or otherwise) all themes that will continue through the remainder of this post.
I allowed myself today the opportunity to receive some reflection on the progress of my vision of resurrected fitness. I chose a route for the trip home that included a fairly long steep hill. I rode the entire hill sitting down (on that glorious new seat) - previously it had not been possible to make the hill without standing and pedalling after about halfway. It's very gratifying to experience these performance improvements; particularly when resuming or just starting a new fit commitment. Thought there can be some degree of rebound feel good in the early going - by and large it is just hard work.
Why the rekindled interest in exercise? Well.. to borrow a phrase that the fitness industry used to toss around (maybe they still do) my interest centers around being "functionally fit." Aesthetics don't float my boat in a big way (at least not enough to keep me showing up) sure it's great to look healthy etc. but I want to continue to perform and enjoy activities with low to moderate physical demand, without undue strain. Essentially in order to continue to enjoy an active life, I must "train" actively.
Given my extended focus on such sedentary activities as reading, writing, meditation, until recently netflix and recreational navel-gazing, my once able body was becoming increasingly un-able.
When I got home I was eating breakfast and reading an article in a "Hospital Employees Union" newsletter which cited seniors care facilities as some of the "most dangerous workplaces in terms of violence and strain-related injuries."
As it happens over the last year I have resumed working in these very environments. One floor is focused more on residents with head injuries or other cognitive impairment that lends to the potential for the violence (via aggressive behaviour) and as many have a variety of physical impairment the risk to caregivers, for strain-related injury, is high. The other floor is moving toward a focus as a seniors rehab, so while the cognitive impairment might not be as prevalent, the physical demands are ever present.
I watched the senior at the rec. centre going through their circuit training and/or individual programs with physios/kinesiologists; they are working on strength, balance, stabilizing, endurance, flexibility. All these factors are every bit as important for someone my age and none of them can be thought into existence or maintained; let alone improved.
Those being "pro-active" can lessen (but not eliminate entirely) the likelihood of joining the ranks at the rehab facility; of course one could still injure themselves in daily activity or even while exercising. If they are among those that require "hospitalization" then I will be working with them as one of the team of caregivers that participates in their return to their own homes. In order to perform the daily requirements of my job, I must bend, stoop, squat, lunge, reach, stretch, lift, carry and push. As this is part of my livelihood currently and for the foreseeable future, I need to be able to withstand the very physical demands of the job. If not, the caregiver can become the cared for, very abruptly. Over the course of my long-standing career I have seen many of my co-workers go off (some with career ending and life altering injuries). This is not going to be me - but it could be.
As said, I have had phases of inactivity and they have had a corresponding detrimental effect. I remember a P.E. teacher in grade nine - lecturing us about inactivity and poor eating habits; I can still hear his South African accent as he states "the next thing you know you have a rather large corporation around your mid-section, your range of motion is decreased, your spine and hips are pulled out of alignment you experience low back pain and you lack the energy you once had. You know what - he was right!
I was experiencing the back pain, the decreased flexibility, I developed agonizing pain in my feet and indeed my stamina and endurance were on the decline.
The decline that leads to hospitalization for some seniors doesn't happen over night - it is an accumulative decline that begins years prior to an acute onset of some trauma or injury. The body is "designed" to be in motion. Maintenance of it's many functions calls for activities that take it through many planes of movement. Muscles intended for balance and stabilization simply atrophy in a lifestyle where the only balancing involves; keeping a tray containing chips, salsa and a soda upright while folded in the recliner chair.
The bottom line for me was I was much too young to feel so damn old. I can accept the impermanence of my human existence etc. but I don't intend to orchestrate an accelerated decline. So a comeback trail is in the works. To all my yogi/yogini friends, I love you, but it might be some time yet (if ever) that I join you on the floor for extended sits. From here on in, I will ask my body what it wants and needs; I will not place demands on it based on what others "can do." I have experienced innumerable cycles of relative wellness and then injury. I have asserted demands on my body beyond what was reasonable, I have demeaned and criticized my body while comparing it to that of others, I have hurt and neglected my body; it is enough!
It is time that I honour my beautiful body, that which has carried me through life, provided my soul a residence - allowed me to experience so many facets of what it is to be human; the reverence and respect, that is it's due.
I want to do everything in my power to withdraw from the zombie apocalypse of the walking wounded and to celebrate life from the temple - my body!
Wednesday, 4 May 2016
Seat for the Soul
From yesterday's theme's of ancestral connection, other worldly and ethereal communication to a more pedestrian focus; well actually a cyclist focus. Today while browsing through a local "outdoor shop" where I was mostly struck aghast at the prices of many of the garments; I made my way back to the cycling section, where I was reminded how uncomfortable I find my bike's seat.
I have been gradually riding the bike with more frequency beginning about two years ago when I first took my car of the road and then even more frequently over the last year as one of the places I resumed employment is biking distance. (The other I find "too close" so I walk).
At first I put the discomfort down to my body getting accustomed to riding again. I then reasoned that the inflexibility in my low back and hips made it challenging for me to stay back on the seat. With all these factors rectified some two years later - it still doesn't feel good. I even adjusted the angle the seat was mounted at, a couple times, it made a slight difference but overall still unsatisfactory.
I should mention I have been in the same store on other occasions pondering a seat change but managed to talk myself out of it. You might think that all has been said, that could possibly been said, about bike seats. Well - if you have read anything of my writing in the past, then you know I can masterfully spin, nothing into something. Even if neither of us hold to be true that is due to any inherent talent on my part; I submit that something is always waiting to be said, the rest can be credited to my grade nine typing teacher. (flash to a pointer cracking out a rhythm on her desk, as her dulcet tones chant "A,S,D,F J,K,L ";" ")
So why would I go so long with the "original seat" and deny myself the enjoyment and comfort of an alternative?
Are ya ready for this?
Well there is a myriad of reasons. I've had that bike for I believe about twelve years. At the time I wanted something of an alternative to the mountain bike I had been riding for quite sometime previous. What I wound up with was this "performance hybrid" bike. It has the narrow high pressure tires and gear ratios of a racing bike without the dropped handle bars; so it was designed for road riding. I even had some after market armrest extensions mounted so that now and again when I felt like a sprint, I could "assume the position." I was more into running and a variety of other fitness pursuits at this time - I even considered the biathlon - gratefully my "higher self" or a moment of sanity/clarity intervened and I just stuck to recreation. The bike currently overall still meets my needs (in fact pre-spring I sunk a few hundred dollars into refurbishing some drive train and tires that were showing their age) - all except that seat! Oh no, I'm going to hang on to that Spartan gonad mashing medieval conveyance. Have you seen the cost of after market seats?
As I said I didn't get into the competitive scene. Sure I have had some "performance apparel" the wicking and insulation properties of some of that stuff actually live up to the marketing. Overall though, I'm not keen on laminating my physique in spandex and doing that scene. Group rides I participated in or went on solo, might have been deemed the "tour de farce" they were measured in hours (not so much because of the immense distance, but because there were always coffee and food stops strategically interlaced along the route).
So why then the need to hang onto this minimalist seat? I couldn't think at any level that comfort over performance meant I was ..................AGING!....... could I?
What about any vestiges of "no pain no gain?" Thought I had effectively let go of that mantra, however in light of this conversation, maybe another go around.
And what of personal worth? Am I not worthy of the expenditure on a new seat so that while I'm cycling for leisure, exercise, wellness etc. there is no need to be suffering along the way?
Now that I'm on the topic of "suffering" how deeply are those paradigms and mental constructs around the virtue of suffering and self-denial anyway?
Values, viewpoints, perspectives, priorities all change innumerable time through a lifetime - is it any different for the needs of the body?
The manufacturer of this seat offers a 120 day comfort guarantee. The sales rep at store said keep the packaging and receipt and we'll beat that. Try it out for awhile and if you're not satisfied swap it for one of the other dozens of alternatives on the wall. Someone commented in my travels over the last few days "self-love" is so complicated, what does it even look like?" Hmm... maybe not so complicated and today for me, it looks like this.
So now if you should see me riding around town with a big grin on my face you'll know why. Another thing that occurs to me is that I've occasionally heard the comment (not a particularly loving reflection I must say) that men should have to under go some equivalent to a mammogram.
Tell you what, an ill-fitting bicycle seat must run a close second - especially when you hit an unexpected bump!
I have been gradually riding the bike with more frequency beginning about two years ago when I first took my car of the road and then even more frequently over the last year as one of the places I resumed employment is biking distance. (The other I find "too close" so I walk).
At first I put the discomfort down to my body getting accustomed to riding again. I then reasoned that the inflexibility in my low back and hips made it challenging for me to stay back on the seat. With all these factors rectified some two years later - it still doesn't feel good. I even adjusted the angle the seat was mounted at, a couple times, it made a slight difference but overall still unsatisfactory.
I should mention I have been in the same store on other occasions pondering a seat change but managed to talk myself out of it. You might think that all has been said, that could possibly been said, about bike seats. Well - if you have read anything of my writing in the past, then you know I can masterfully spin, nothing into something. Even if neither of us hold to be true that is due to any inherent talent on my part; I submit that something is always waiting to be said, the rest can be credited to my grade nine typing teacher. (flash to a pointer cracking out a rhythm on her desk, as her dulcet tones chant "A,S,D,F J,K,L ";" ")
So why would I go so long with the "original seat" and deny myself the enjoyment and comfort of an alternative?
Are ya ready for this?
Well there is a myriad of reasons. I've had that bike for I believe about twelve years. At the time I wanted something of an alternative to the mountain bike I had been riding for quite sometime previous. What I wound up with was this "performance hybrid" bike. It has the narrow high pressure tires and gear ratios of a racing bike without the dropped handle bars; so it was designed for road riding. I even had some after market armrest extensions mounted so that now and again when I felt like a sprint, I could "assume the position." I was more into running and a variety of other fitness pursuits at this time - I even considered the biathlon - gratefully my "higher self" or a moment of sanity/clarity intervened and I just stuck to recreation. The bike currently overall still meets my needs (in fact pre-spring I sunk a few hundred dollars into refurbishing some drive train and tires that were showing their age) - all except that seat! Oh no, I'm going to hang on to that Spartan gonad mashing medieval conveyance. Have you seen the cost of after market seats?
As I said I didn't get into the competitive scene. Sure I have had some "performance apparel" the wicking and insulation properties of some of that stuff actually live up to the marketing. Overall though, I'm not keen on laminating my physique in spandex and doing that scene. Group rides I participated in or went on solo, might have been deemed the "tour de farce" they were measured in hours (not so much because of the immense distance, but because there were always coffee and food stops strategically interlaced along the route).
So why then the need to hang onto this minimalist seat? I couldn't think at any level that comfort over performance meant I was ..................AGING!....... could I?
What about any vestiges of "no pain no gain?" Thought I had effectively let go of that mantra, however in light of this conversation, maybe another go around.
And what of personal worth? Am I not worthy of the expenditure on a new seat so that while I'm cycling for leisure, exercise, wellness etc. there is no need to be suffering along the way?
Now that I'm on the topic of "suffering" how deeply are those paradigms and mental constructs around the virtue of suffering and self-denial anyway?
Values, viewpoints, perspectives, priorities all change innumerable time through a lifetime - is it any different for the needs of the body?
The manufacturer of this seat offers a 120 day comfort guarantee. The sales rep at store said keep the packaging and receipt and we'll beat that. Try it out for awhile and if you're not satisfied swap it for one of the other dozens of alternatives on the wall. Someone commented in my travels over the last few days "self-love" is so complicated, what does it even look like?" Hmm... maybe not so complicated and today for me, it looks like this.
So now if you should see me riding around town with a big grin on my face you'll know why. Another thing that occurs to me is that I've occasionally heard the comment (not a particularly loving reflection I must say) that men should have to under go some equivalent to a mammogram.
Tell you what, an ill-fitting bicycle seat must run a close second - especially when you hit an unexpected bump!
Tuesday, 3 May 2016
Collect Call from Your Ancestors .... Will you Accept the Charges?
Living in the western world where rational thought and materialism reign supreme, I both have determined for myself; that it is not the "Alpha and the Omega"of life. Just the same, I can't claim I have not been influenced by this orientation and now choose to "unlearn" in order to further develop additional innate proclivities. These might well include those attributes that are collectively described as the large percentages of our brain (or being) that lie under-utilized.
I find that in matters involving the consideration of some of "life's mysteries" (including those of my own life) as often as not, perhaps more; the mind (and it's associated logic and reason) present as detrimental to the quest. I don't necessarily refer to detriment to personal "life and limb;" more so that the scope of the journey can certainly be impacted, if I were to strictly follow the dictates of the mind. I consider as "exhibit A" my own spiritual path which in no small way has led me to the mystery and intrigue of unraveling my own ancestry.
On my biological father's side as it turns out that is Irish; a "fact of life" that eluded me for many years. I hold to be true that there were other matters that needed to be worked out within me and through me first. Whether they were pre-ordained to be preparatory, I can't absolutely say; but it turns out this is the case (with or without "empirical evidence.")
I consider at times I am following threads, nearly imperceptible (well.. except they're not) the challenge that presents to me is; while to any other Tom, Dick or Harry that which I have followed may seem laudable or laughable. I'm not talking about following directives in the form of "sky-writing" or "burning bushes." No, these are more like the filaments of a spider's web which at first blush might appear rather flimsy. However, this same web serves very effectively exactly what it was designed for; all the while withstanding the assault of wind and rain. In this respect a "thread" is rather formidable.
I suppose the lesson laid before me is to learn to trust "my threads." It is wonderful to share about such things with someone that embraces the splendour of your personal mystery; however, there is as much likelihood that others might pounce on the notion and dismiss the whole thing "as a waste of time."
This particular post was initiated as I stared at a book mark (as much or more than the book I was "reading.") Upon the book mark is the name "O'Neill" includes the clan coat of arms and snippets of "history." I acquired this bookmark while in a local Irish import store. Specifically due to coming to know at the depth of my being I am an "O'Neill." A trip to Ireland five years ago left me with some rather unmistakeable impressions (or said another way, Ireland impressed upon me) an undeniable connection. This was before I came to know the "name."
I won't go into the discovery of my name at this point. It is fascinating that there is only four sentences on this book mark but different parts of it "get my attention" at different times.
Quoting the first sentence: "The Gaelic name Niall is thought to mean "champion." Apparently I am going to touch on the name story. A service that runs DNA testing and cross-matches it on a huge database (my very simplistic understanding of their process) not only verified my paternal gene type as being "highly concentrated in Northern Ireland but went on to indicate that it also was of the lineage of "Niall of the Nine Hostages." Further noted on the book mark is that "the O'Neill's are a branch of the ancient family of Tara - some cross referencing online leads me to believe that would be the Tuatha de Dannan (people/tribe of the Goddess Danu). The online article also mentioned (located at Tara) the "Mound of the Hostages" which I visited when I was there. Suffice to say the experience was more than a walk in the park - I was stirred viscerally while "visiting" there. Again this was before this further discovery of my "roots." The name "Niall" was said to have been brought to Ireland by "Norsemen" so that may present as a further thread to follow.
Back to the reference to "champion." What does that have to do with me you might ask? It's in my history, it's in my lineage, it's in my DNA - I am one (certainly not the only one- which doesn't mean that all that are called - listen) but neither does that absolve me of the legacy I carry. What then will I "champion?" At the very least, the wisps, the threads, the whispers that may only be perceptible to me. They might be meaningless to anyone else. I cannot let dismissiveness from outside myself distract or dissuade me from that which calls directly (well.... I suppose it could be said to be rather convoluted) to me. It might well be that as I pay closer attention and heighten my ability to listen a more "direct" unfolding will occur. Or everything is going according to "Hoyle" (actually O'Neill) the shortest distance between two points is not necessarily a straight line. This brings me full circle back to the importance of not allowing my own mind to be the purveyor of distraction. It can be servant or master - the latter often becoming a limiting factor the former better suited to serve something far bigger than itself.
Just to be clear am I speaking here that even though raised thousands of miles away from the land of my ancestors; in a family and culture devoid of any ancestral association, can the land itself and the spirit of my lineage, call to the very marrow of my bones?
I say they can and they have, and I suspect they will continue to do so - mine is to listen.
I was not taught to listen in this way - but I am firmly convinced that it can be and is being, reawakened in me.
I can unlearn, and remember!
I am willing.
I am able.
And I must!
I find that in matters involving the consideration of some of "life's mysteries" (including those of my own life) as often as not, perhaps more; the mind (and it's associated logic and reason) present as detrimental to the quest. I don't necessarily refer to detriment to personal "life and limb;" more so that the scope of the journey can certainly be impacted, if I were to strictly follow the dictates of the mind. I consider as "exhibit A" my own spiritual path which in no small way has led me to the mystery and intrigue of unraveling my own ancestry.
On my biological father's side as it turns out that is Irish; a "fact of life" that eluded me for many years. I hold to be true that there were other matters that needed to be worked out within me and through me first. Whether they were pre-ordained to be preparatory, I can't absolutely say; but it turns out this is the case (with or without "empirical evidence.")
I consider at times I am following threads, nearly imperceptible (well.. except they're not) the challenge that presents to me is; while to any other Tom, Dick or Harry that which I have followed may seem laudable or laughable. I'm not talking about following directives in the form of "sky-writing" or "burning bushes." No, these are more like the filaments of a spider's web which at first blush might appear rather flimsy. However, this same web serves very effectively exactly what it was designed for; all the while withstanding the assault of wind and rain. In this respect a "thread" is rather formidable.
I suppose the lesson laid before me is to learn to trust "my threads." It is wonderful to share about such things with someone that embraces the splendour of your personal mystery; however, there is as much likelihood that others might pounce on the notion and dismiss the whole thing "as a waste of time."
This particular post was initiated as I stared at a book mark (as much or more than the book I was "reading.") Upon the book mark is the name "O'Neill" includes the clan coat of arms and snippets of "history." I acquired this bookmark while in a local Irish import store. Specifically due to coming to know at the depth of my being I am an "O'Neill." A trip to Ireland five years ago left me with some rather unmistakeable impressions (or said another way, Ireland impressed upon me) an undeniable connection. This was before I came to know the "name."
I won't go into the discovery of my name at this point. It is fascinating that there is only four sentences on this book mark but different parts of it "get my attention" at different times.
Quoting the first sentence: "The Gaelic name Niall is thought to mean "champion." Apparently I am going to touch on the name story. A service that runs DNA testing and cross-matches it on a huge database (my very simplistic understanding of their process) not only verified my paternal gene type as being "highly concentrated in Northern Ireland but went on to indicate that it also was of the lineage of "Niall of the Nine Hostages." Further noted on the book mark is that "the O'Neill's are a branch of the ancient family of Tara - some cross referencing online leads me to believe that would be the Tuatha de Dannan (people/tribe of the Goddess Danu). The online article also mentioned (located at Tara) the "Mound of the Hostages" which I visited when I was there. Suffice to say the experience was more than a walk in the park - I was stirred viscerally while "visiting" there. Again this was before this further discovery of my "roots." The name "Niall" was said to have been brought to Ireland by "Norsemen" so that may present as a further thread to follow.
Back to the reference to "champion." What does that have to do with me you might ask? It's in my history, it's in my lineage, it's in my DNA - I am one (certainly not the only one- which doesn't mean that all that are called - listen) but neither does that absolve me of the legacy I carry. What then will I "champion?" At the very least, the wisps, the threads, the whispers that may only be perceptible to me. They might be meaningless to anyone else. I cannot let dismissiveness from outside myself distract or dissuade me from that which calls directly (well.... I suppose it could be said to be rather convoluted) to me. It might well be that as I pay closer attention and heighten my ability to listen a more "direct" unfolding will occur. Or everything is going according to "Hoyle" (actually O'Neill) the shortest distance between two points is not necessarily a straight line. This brings me full circle back to the importance of not allowing my own mind to be the purveyor of distraction. It can be servant or master - the latter often becoming a limiting factor the former better suited to serve something far bigger than itself.
Just to be clear am I speaking here that even though raised thousands of miles away from the land of my ancestors; in a family and culture devoid of any ancestral association, can the land itself and the spirit of my lineage, call to the very marrow of my bones?
I say they can and they have, and I suspect they will continue to do so - mine is to listen.
I was not taught to listen in this way - but I am firmly convinced that it can be and is being, reawakened in me.
I can unlearn, and remember!
I am willing.
I am able.
And I must!
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