He Whom Wanders - May Not be Lost?

I was prompted again today to do some writing. I think I mentioned in a previous blog that one of the ways I am guided to return my attention to writing is I keep finding writing implements while out and about. Less than a week ago I found both a pencil and a pen. Today while waiting for a bus sitting right there, is another pen. I acknowledge the guidance grab the pen and proceed with my intention for the morning. As it happens on this pen is embossed  the words "cash money." I'm guessing it came from the "Money Mart" down the block - but to me, it is rather explicit. Not only am I supposed to be writing, clearly there is income involved. When? doesn't matter, it's coming! Does that mean the next thing I write is the "money-maker?" I 'll let ya know! What I know for sure is that the "journey" of writing is taking me somewhere and I suspect not writing is a bit like parking the car. Which is not to say that's a "bad" thing, sometimes those road side oasis' are well worth extending the ETA on the "intended" destination, however staying too long might way lay a door waiting to open.

So the question come to mind - what is it that I'm going to write about? As the day begins to unfold I conclude that the writing, as with the day will take care of itself, I just need to get myself and my laptop together.

My intended morning destination was to be the Interfaith Chapel on the University of Victoria campus. I have intermittently attended various gatherings there - it is both a gift to the students and faculty and to members of the community such as me. There is such a broad variety of offerings there representing different faith & spiritual paths in combination with the exuberance of youthful energy, inquiry and passion. I am always inspired when in attendance at one of their meditation circles to see so many young people expanding not just their minds in the halls of academia but there hearts & souls as well. I might add - there is no question that at times these "students" are my teachers!

Today's menu included four hours of various practices that are associated with Christianity (though not the dogmatic, rational theology which is frequently served up in those "hallowed halls." There was to be chanting in the style of Taize, contemplative meditation, walking meditation, a labyrinth. Most all of these "practices" are associated with Eastern spirituality, or other practices deemed "new age" to be kind - in some "Christian circles" they would be tagged blasphemy. Here in this environment I discovered a convergence of many of these practices, along with their transformative power and even juicy discussion regarding the teachings of the man Jesus which had in mind this very thing, before the practices were gutted and various religions were the resulting spawn. Clearly my biases are beginning to be revealed - so at this junction I will say I honour and respect everyone's right to believe what they choose, I am not trying to convert or convince anyone of anything. I simply sharing some of what I find along the way upon my ongoing journey.

I had originally thought I would ride my bike up to the gathering - then upon realizing it was raining opted to ride the bus so that I could arrive dry and not have to sit through the whole event soaked. As I sat on the bus I was deeply moved with appreciation that not even five minutes from my front door I could just board a bus that would take me all the way to the university campus. Nothing to do but just kick back relax and enjoy the ride up there. I had left enough time (or so I thought) to walk across campus from where the bus stopped to the chapel and be there in time for the event to commence. I say "so I thought" because though I knew the area where I would disembark from the bus and I had been to the chapel before, the difference was, I had previously always rode there and knew the route to the front door via bicycle. I had not transversed the campus and if I tell you that presently my sir name is Mason not Magellan, perhaps you might have some insight into what was to transpire once I got off the bus.

The bus arrived on campus leaving me fifteen minutes to walk to the chapel, ample time I reasoned. I walked past what I remembered to be the chaplain's office where I saw "signs" (literally) one outlining the event I was heading to and another featuring coming attractions. Next I saw a campus map which affirmed with a bright yellow star "you are here." I concurred - indeed I was here. I saw where the chapel was and noted some of the building names in between. I began "on time" and "on course" and then it would seem, there was a disconnect between the imagery of my intended route and where I actually walked.  I did see the names of some of the buildings I remembered from the map and then came to trails leading into the woods on campus. I couldn't resist the opportunity to walk through the natural world and reasoned it would be the perfect segue into the meditations and "surely the trails would lead to the chapel!"

It's entirely possible that if one is familiar with the trail network one could arrive at the front door of the chapel, without the afore mentioned familiarity instead a rather lengthy walk in the park ensues. I had dressed for coolish temperature and drizzle opting to layer one of my go to hoodies under a Cowichan sweater - this would have been perfect comfort for a short jaunt, however, for an extended hike I began to take on the qualities of a walking sweat lodge.

I came upon some signs in the woods at a fork in the trail both were names that were familiar to me however neither was meaningful in relation to orienting me toward the chapel location. I came across a parking lot and saw a couple of guys jogging along the trail so I walked toward them and asked them for directions. I went back in the direction they had indicated and began to travel along the "ring road" of the campus which at some point I was going to leave and get back in the woods and would see signs for the chapel. As I walked along the road I began to see buildings that I saw while on the bus when I first came onto the campus. Not far from here and I'm back out and off campus I reasoned. I must need to double back to where the runners told me I'd would enter the woods! I wondered to myself how is it that when traveling I often seem to be literally oriented one hundred and eighty degrees in the opposite direction of where I intend to go? (not realizing as I pondered this, that I was once again doing the same thing!) Back in the woods I go. It was a beautiful walk - I released concern for being "on time" along with self talk that was not helpful, in favour of staying present and enjoying the walk. It occurred to me there was little point getting myself all emotionally twisted on route to meditation - it would serve me better to simply enjoy the journey. I entertained briefly both the idea that should I "never" find the chapel I got in a great walk and momentary concern for arriving late and disrupting the program already in progress. I checked in with myself - did I still want to go to this? Indeed I did! I had been looking forward to it and whatever I got to would be perfect. I wasn't going to let concern for what others would think of me arriving late be the cause for abandoning what I wanted to do - what they thought was their problem! It would give them something else to release in their meditation.

To be clear I'm not diminishing respect for and valuing of others - their time and or space. I actually prefer to be early. This extended departure from my original destination became the perfect opportunity for me to "let go of outcome" & to enjoy where I was and what I was doing rather than obliterate it with self-admonishment and concern for what I would encounter should I ever arrive at my original intended destination. I know full well that to do so means I don't enjoy where I'm at and may lose precious time at my destination extracting myself from the emotional vortex created, so that I can begin to be present again.

I came out of the woods and onto one of the roads outside the campus. Once again I began on my one hundred and eighty degree reverse trajectory. I realized this when I saw a large empty lot that belongs to the university that is utilized by people to exercise their dogs. I knew from another time in my life if I continued in this direction I would wind up at the water front. So...... about face!

I was amused as I considered ...... though I most definitely envision more travel in my life I can just as readily be exploring and discovering newly in my own town (& I've been here 55 years!) It's a bit like being dropped on any number of the different panels in a mosaic quilt - I know many of them individually quite well, but not necessarily, the territory that lies between and joins the two. Interesting to note that when I did arrive at the chapel I realized that at times I was closer than I thought and somehow "decided"  I was going the "wrong" way & took myself off course.  But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

On my way back to what would be the next intersection and road that skirted the university grounds I "discovered" another trail system part of a recreation center which includes some outdoor exercise stations! I made a mental note to come back here on my bike sometime and see the whole circuit. This beautifully coincides with my want to address my overall wellness including physical fitness employing some creativity with respect to financial resources. The other plus is that this now gives me another option that is outdoors immersed in nature! I have certainly spent my fair share of time at indoor gyms - but I have to say when I walk/run the chip trail around the golf course adjacent to another local recreation center - I find an irony when I round one section of the trail past the floor to ceiling windows in the gym where people are walking or running on treadmills looking out at the trail and natural beauty. It's awesome to have these centers as options - but for me I feel like a gerbil on a wheel on those machines and somewhat like what I imagine wildlife feels when kept in a tank or pen - you can see the natural world and freedom right in front of your nose, but nonetheless there you are walking/running in circles.

As I got to the next intersection I recognized the street name and I realized I was now at the location that I would utilize if I were on my bike - in other words nearly at the chapel! Rather than go all the way down the side road to the driveway, I entered at a gate the led into the campus gardens (which I knew to be adjacent to the chapel. Upon entering the gardens I was captivated! The early spring-like temperatures had certainly gone a long way to awakening many of the inhabitants. Whether the "biblical Eden" existed or was metaphor and allegory, I now knew in my heart what it looked like. Regardless of my proximity to the chapel, I simply couldn't allow haste to detract from where I found myself. Without a doubt the proceedings under way within the chapel would be nourishing, and comparison would be futile and not my intention. However, part of the aim of the activities inside were focused on becoming present with the "here & now" & I was already right here, right now, surrounded with all forms of living beings both indigenous and "exotic" I just couldn't reconcile rushing in from this breath-taking setting to go sit in a chair and become aware of my breath?

The air was fresh and cool, the rain continued to fall which played a staccato rhythm upon the canopy of the trees. I took my time walking the pathways that wound through the gardens, while I marveled at the diversity of creation. The cloud cover was thinning just as I rounded a corner in the path at the very moment when a magnolia tree in full bloom with white flowers was cast a glow by the sun's rays bursting through. What a dazzling display I was privileged to witness. The energy emitting from this garden goddess put me in touch with the divine feminine within me, bringing insights into how I repressed those faculties as one of the ways I rejected myself. The experience brought to mind how deeply I feel connected when in nature and had me reconsider whether my being diverted from my original destination was me be "lost" at all. Quite the contrary, to feel the depth of connection and love in this moment was extraordinary and something that had seemingly eluded me most of my life or at the very least, I had been convinced that to feel this way had to come from somewhere, something or someone outside of myself - not so! This is priceless experience, as without the personal knowing of it - no matter how many accounts I read, or heard others alluding to, they served only to highlight my lack of it, skepticism and my harbouring further mistaken beliefs that this was somehow due to my either doing something wrong or was not worthy of the experience. I am delighted to discover the erroneous nature of these beliefs.  As I continued to enjoy the emotionally stirring magical mystical garden, I began to wonder what I was "missing" in the chapel. Of course in truth I wasn't missing anything, it was more a question of did I still choose to go to the remainder of the program or carry on where I was at?

I decided to go inside, "bookmarking" the gardens for a return visit. I thanked the botanical community for welcoming me into the fold and carried on inside.

As I mentioned earlier, as it turned out I only missed the first of the varied program. I was greeted with a warm welcome and reassurance that I was free to relax and take my time to settle in. I took that cue to find the facilities and "freshen" up at little and then joined the group as they were just being introduced to the next part of the program.

What followed was a couple different rounds of seated meditation and some walking meditation followed by a short break - I chose to return to the garden and do some Qi Gong forms (by this time the sky was clear and the sun was radiating the entire garden. The water droplets upon the garden foliage made the outline of each appear to be bedazzled in luminous pearls. We were encouraged to remain silent throughout the various meditations and transitions. This suited me fine as I was happy to stay immersed in my experience.

The rest of the program was great - I wish though, only to focus on the what was the last activity before the lunch serving. We were given a number of options - I chose to spend time walking the indoor labyrinth they have at the chapel and were making available as one of the offerings. I am particularly drawn to this practice. I aim to have my book published later this year that centers around a forty day labyrinth practice I developed for myself - but that's another story.

The labyrinth at Uvic rolls out and covers the better portion of the inside of the chapel gathering space. Given it's size - a mindful walk within it's pathway takes an appreciable period of time. It also allows for a number of people to be walking at once. For the most part - when I did my morning practice (the focus of my book) I was alone as I walked. This time, there were six or seven of us - which offered for me a myriad of different metaphors as we walked. To begin with I employed the same "body awareness" that was being encouraged in the Qi Gong classes I've been taking over the last while. I was aware of my breathing, consciously employing the "abdominal breathing" from class while at the same time being mindful of each and every step. I felt each foot as it contacted the floor and the articulations within my feet as I walked. I became more aware of the orchestration of multiple muscle groups working harmoniously as I negotiated the S-turns of the labyrinth path. I recognized that a mindful walk had nothing to do with whether I maintained "perfect" balance in the turns and though the path is clearly delineated - there is no need to remain strictly within the outline. One can "colour outside the lines" and still remain  "on course." The dance I became further aware of occurred when I encountered some of my fellow travelers within the labyrinth and we were passing by each other on parallel paths. It was not necessary to change tempo, or give up on the intended destination. It was readily possible to remain mindful of one's own "journey" while considering the trajectory of another and making the necessary adjustments to pass in a non-disruptive manner. It was the perfect metaphor for life (or at least how life could be). Each participant determined their own pace within the labyrinth. Though we all walked the same path (at one time or another) nobody walked it for someone else. There were times when one was "alone" in sections of the labyrinth and other times when a leg of the journey was "shared" with someone on parallel path. The pathway itself wove a serpentine route that seemingly came very close to the center (destination) and then took you entirely away from it, where it might be imagined you would not come to see the center again.  Each could decide how long (or if at all) the spent sitting on cushions in the center and then there was the return journey back to the "outside" where one could then consider how they were to integrate the insights gained while upon the inner journey, now that they were returning to the external world.

Though the morning for me required nothing further to constitute a glorious experience we were then treated to an absolute feast to conclude the event.

After leaving the chapel I walked through the campus and became more clear as to a more direct route to and from the bus terminus. The icing on the cake for me was as I got within spitting distance of where my return bus would arrive, there was two people that had just got off another bus. They stopped when they reached me and asked for directions! I laughed out loud at the irony of only hours earlier being so "lost" on campus and now I was to offer directions!

Don't Miss the Message While Mired in the Mullet

One of my favourite places to busk - which in my case is comprised of singing and playing guitar is in the outdoor courtyard of the downtown public library. I don't know if the architects designed it intentionally to have great acoustics, but it most certainly does. It also has the additional benefit of being covered so it allows for performance even on inclement days. Knowing it is a popular spot and first come first serve are the rules of engagement - I set out early yesterday to be the proverbial "early bird."

When I arrived I couldn't hear any music or singing so I thought my plan was unfolding successfully. When I rounded the corner I saw a man standing on the raised seat and platform feature that I generally play on. I don't particularly care about being up there specifically, but the security in the area asked the first time I sang there, to be sure to have my case and "stuff" where it wouldn't impede foot traffic walking through the courtyard. I'm happy to oblige such requests as I don't want to wear out my welcome, so upon the platform it is!

Anyway, the fellow isn't singing - however he is I discover, reading aloud from the bible. I decided to step quickly into the library and decide what to do when I returned outside. Sure enough he's still there, so if I still want to secure the spot - I guess I'm going to attend a bible reading? I thought he might let up for a moment so I could ask him how long he was planning on being, there was no such pause. I have to say, his reading skill was admirable - his elecution was smooth and expressive despite having chosen to forsake a more modern edition of the bible. Though I first considered whether sitting through this might well be a kin to "smiting" my head against a wall. My next thought was - "you know, this guy has got guts, it doesn't matter if I share his beliefs, there is no question regarding his conviction and he's not afraid to put in on the line! So I sat there, and listened - he made use of the whole circular platform moving around as he read, this would have been useful to reach people around the perimeter (if anyone else had been paying attention). When he came around my side he did look up and made eye contact as he read without missing a beat. I had no idea how much he planned to read - suffice to say it went on considerable longer than the "typical" readings I recalled. Then I thought - I do love to sing and I give my all whether anyone acknowledges or not, but I have to admit, it's nice when someone does. Who knows how often he does this - but I can imagine it's not always warmly embraced, so this morning I am his listening.

 He eventually got to a scripture that asked "let any among you that is without sin, then throw (it may have said casteth) the first stone" I don't think I'd ever heard anything leading up to or following that line before. Though I don't subscribe to the born in sin etc. theology - I could substitute "judgment" and ask myself "who was I to judge this fellow" I'll spare you "those stories" and complete this one instead. Here I was waiting to march myself right on up to where this fellow was doing his thing - intending to do mine. Why was what  I was offering of any more importance than this fellow's. Let's face it any "material" gain I receive is due in no small part, to the generosity of spirit of those that pass by. Surely then I can find and expand generosity in my heart and appreciate this fellow and what it might take for him to show up. Maybe this brings him as much joy, as singing does for me - he certainly seems at ease, not to mention - he didn't go fishing around for that reading, he was just reading page after page and along come that passage that had something to say to me. Coincidence? I think not!

Next thing you know - he's proclaiming "this has been a reading from the ....... bible." I'm not sure that announcement was required - I'm pretty sure anyone that was paying any attention, knew it was the bible and then, he walks off the platform. I hustled on up there to get my stuff set up and moments later looked in the direction that he had walked off and he was no where to be seen. I continued to set up and the whole thing took on a quality that is familiar to me - which is to say surreal, I say that of those sort of events that I encounter, often not in context with what has been going on and then it ends abruptly, leaving me wondering - "did that really just happen?"

In this case - it was "confirmed" just as I was about to start playing another fellow approached me and asked if I had seen the guy that had been here just before me? "He was....." and I said, "reading the bible" -  "ya that was him - we were supposed to meet now!"
I said "well he walked over that way," pointing toward some shopping carts full of belongings beside the library - "and then I lost sight of him."

It seemed to me the least I could do - moments earlier the cowboy boot clad, mullet coiffed, street evangelist delivered me a message I didn't even know I was looking to hear, who was I, not to now be there, to carry the message to the next guy that asked?

Rather Than "Noticing Failure" - Give "Notice" to Failure!

I have failed magnificently, in fact some of my failure is of a magnitude that it might well be the crowning glory of my entire existence and what's more, some of my most glorious failure is still embryonic in nature awaiting my discovery and commencement.

How's that for an eye-grabbing opener - what say I use that in my next "cover letter?"

To continue, I have yet to ride off into the sunset, though I have witnessed artistry splashed across the heavens. I can't lay claim to ever having executed an effective rescue - in fact I have invested considerable energy in relinquishing my "shining armour." Not the star of stage or screen, never occupied a board room - though I have been bored in a room!

What pray tell is this then? A masochistic litany of self-deprecation? Though I'm not sure assurance is called for, I will state categorically it is not! It actually represents to me a burgeoning liberation, but more on that later.

I had occasion to engage in a conversation with a fellow who is seeking employment. The scenario is for me part of an exploration and possibly development of my capacity to mentor/coach. He expressed concern for impressing he or she that would be conducting his next interview, with any indication that he had failed in his life. Now, I get the power and influence of the "want" of belonging, the perhaps primordial but nonetheless persuasive energy that exile from the "tribe" means certain death - which is still alive and residing within the cellular biology woven into the tapestry of ones DNA,  my wonder is, to what degree can one disengage from this remaining the operating system of the individual?

I recognize that while I endeavour to be a mirror for this individual and support him in the knowing of his own answers and innate gifts, he simultaneously can mirror for me where I am at concerning my own dance with what I "see" going on for him. I'm not there to influence him, change him, judge him or make him wrong. He tells me that my input, reflections and life experience are very helpful - I in turn am not invested in that perspective remaining constant, if for example he doesn't get the job. I suppose this being a new direction I haven't really taken any time to consider what or how I would evaluate whether I am being affective in this capacity. Preliminarily I suppose this being a voluntary undertaking - the distraction of whether it generates income or not is off the radar screen so I can test the waters of personal engagement and fulfillment,  purely on the experience, without any direct associated concern for a strictly financial bottom-line perspective. I have an awareness of his objective, while at the same time recognizing I am in no way responsible for his success or failure, there is for me freedom in that. I envision that parlaying similar "relationships" into that of income generation would be comprised of the same objectivity i.e. my sense of fulfillment not hinging on the the client meeting or failing to meet their stated objective. As from my perspective there is no endpoint while still walking here upon planet earth - I would see my role as remaining that of the mirror continuing to engage in an ongoing process - with both being the mirror and he or she reflected in it. The unknown then would be the individuals willingness to continue to engage in the process.

Returning to this business of "failure" I begin to draw to this fellows attention that everyone has failed somewhere along the line. It's then that I come to realize that I can share my consciousness regarding that - but beyond offering him a momentary opportunity to consider something else is possible than his current mindset, it becomes very apparent that energetically doors are briefly opened and frequently slammed shut again. Even though to posture in an interview as though you are one without failure - the person conducting the interview knows that's not the truth - still there is for him so much fear present that an admission of failure would spell certain failure during this interview.  

Now then to revisit my opening comments - I can't say that I "invite" failure, wouldn't claim I don't experience some disappointment in the face of failure, but I don't relate to it the same way anymore either. Am I bounding out of bed each morning to enthusiastically and courageously face the unknown? In many ways and on many levels yes. Well okay "bounding" might be slightly overstating things. There are many ways in which life long patterns are not only being discovered and being owned, I am also making living into entirely different ways of being, in many cases for the first time ever - this represents to me very real steps toward embodiment of transformation that far exceeds intellectual understanding. Believe me I can verify that understanding the need for change and even some sense of the mechanism involved are not at all the same as being that change.

While there may have been times and situations where unknowingly I had stacked the deck against myself right from the onset, energies of self-sabotage in a variety of permutations, would so often impede or prevent my enjoying lasting success. Just the same though I'm not inclined to necessarily indiscriminately wear my heart on my sleeve - neither will I deny my "failures" continuing to steep them in a wash of shame. It really depends then how these so called failures are framed. God knows how many attempts it might require to yield a particular result. Even if a new vision and direction arises all has not been for naught, there invariably will have been the unforeseen development of various attributes, hidden talents etc. that absolutely will be of value moving forward. How then can that been deemed a "failure?"

I would also submit that what I might have deemed colossal failure which may well have been replete with self-admonishment, I now lay claim to having dared greatly for these failures to have occurred and believe myself to have been blessed to have my character and life trajectory most favourably redirected as I continually choose a willingness to mine the gold from these experiences.

Perhaps not much has changed in the world around me, but I can state unequivocally that the view from inside my skin and my ability to comfortably reside there, is increasingly pleasing to me. This leaves me to recognize and appreciate all that I have walked through as my teacher and little doubt about whether I can be of valuable service to others, it just a matter of determining when & how.

Drawing Upon Blank

I've come to write, without any idea of what I've come to write about. Perhaps the dilemma might be alleviated by letting go of the assumption that I can only write when I know about that which I write. What if I don't actually "know" anything? What then would fill the page? If I reduce or eliminate that which I have been told by someone else, but never really have investigated for myself, in other words societal conventions, assumptions that are considered "common sense"; or the use of what I have previously experienced as being "what I know" in which case nothing "new" is necessarily being shared - it's based on presumptions that what I experienced is what I would always experience and that what I was told is "true."

As I sit in the coffee shop where I am currently writing the in house stereo is playing various artists "covering" Leonard Cohen songs - if I were to dwell on this too completely I might conclude - I could continue to write the rest of my life and never achieve what he has with the written word. But in truth, I'm not here to do that - at least presently, I'm here to achieve (convey) with the written word the best that comes from me or through me. Even if I sing his lyrics I don't bring what he does, to the, or with the, songs. I express something of me through the performance of his music. As with other artists work, at times the lyrics resonate for me in some way, or I embrace a familiarity with the song which affords an enjoyment which I then love to share. I suppose then that each street corner rendition of mine is unlike any other - there is no "take two" so it is what it is - when it is, until it is again...

One can't really "perform" someone's previously released written work, for one thing it is deemed as plagiarism - beyond that, what would be the point?

Perhaps the lines blur when I consider the idea of "making a name for oneself" & using that as a criteria for validation. It's certainly not required for example, in order to write - in this case all I need do is write. It might be more pertinent if there were to be an inordinate focus on the writing being read at play. But then as I am learning through busking - would the muscle of conviction be exercised if what I am doing is completely dependent on outside approval? There is a refinement in the doing that can never occur embracing instead, concern, that I lack the expertise to begin. Having said that there must be present something beyond mild amusement to continue to take an endeavour onward.

The most impactful thing that ever comes from my keyboard could be the first thing I write, or the last - I have no idea, it's probably not for me to decide, the call is to write, not 24/7, but certainly it comprises some of what I'm here to do. If I stop for any appreciable period of time and "question" what I'm supposed to be doing with my life - I actually start finding pens and/or blank journal type books while I'm out and about & I don't mean going to a stationary store, they show up on the road side, with frequency that gets my attention.

I suppose what I'm getting at is what a vast arid wasteland the pretense of "knowing"can potentially create for the soul - while the mind is appeased, or at least that part which is hell-bent on survival. How quickly life can take on then,  the shape of the aphorism "been there, done that." The root of that would seem to me to be like: completing one colouring book cover to cover then going out and buying the identical book and expecting a different experience by now using a different box of crayons. The form is the same - one can't create newly utilizing the same paradigm. Nothing new can occur within the confines of what was. If the colouring book was of Disney characters and page three is Donald Duck it doesn't matter how many copies of that book you buy and what colours you select for the character on page three - it's still Donald duck. Now if you accquired a book full of blank pages - page three could be created newly each and everytime, unless of course you felt compelled to draw Donald duck on the blank page.

I'm not trying to revolutionize colouring as much as I'm pointing to what is at least for me the futility of rigid unchanging forms, while at the same time acknowledging an entirely formless existence without any direction is not particularly comfortable either. What I really am not sure of is, if that is due to any innate need to be "doing something productive" or whether the angst is entirely the result of inactivity bumping up against the programming that judges people by what they do - which I then turn upon myself. Life itself seeks expression - and while new galaxies are apparently continuing to be created on infinitum - the diversity of life on planet earth is continually subject to forces of conformity. In truth I can't say that "colonizing" other planets won't forward human evolution - I can't see how it would yield any new results if it isn't undertaken with a new consciousness, by which I mean by those that undertook the project, not just that the technology was achieved to make it possible.

Apparently those that have participated in previous "space programs" have reported a profound change, that the experience was for them transformational. Is it necessary for everyone to go to space to achieve "transformation" - I would say yes and no. It would seem it was necessary for those individuals, they made the voyage and were forever changed - would they have had life changing experiences if they chose an alternative path? Quite possibly - but by all accounts they were called to do what they did and I suppose their contribution would take another form. And maybe even though the conclusions they draw about the interconnectivity of life on the planet and the planet within the solar system and the solar system with the galaxy etc. have been realized by spiritual adherents and medicine people that "appeared" to never leave the planet long before these astronauts were born, never mind made the journey - these space voyages needed to  happen to spread that awareness into as many front rooms via television as possible, potentially raising credibility beyond that which might have been afforded to someone that spent seventy-five years in a cave.

Either way their transformation is both personal and a contribution to the overall mosaic. Others have a different journey to undertake and whatever brings about their evolution and transformation is a contribution as well. There is no competition as to what makes a more valuable contribution. Many people seem to have these known trajectories from an early age, many others find themselves in unchartered and unimagined territory, the result of one or a series, of major life events that become the catalyst to becoming spiritual frontiers in their own life, which most certainly won't forever operate in a vaccum,  sooner or later it's going to impact others.

What a blessing I find myself in the midst of - today I had the time, the means and a blank screen inviting my contribution. No editor, no publisher, no censor (well that's not entirely true - there is of course the mind I asked to step out of the way in the opening paragraph) - so then relative freedom. I say that when I consider by comparison a "free-lance" writing opportunity I explored at one time - the assignment (had I chose to accept it) was to research a half dozen different barbeques and then write a "review" outlining the virtues of the one company that was offering this contract, stipulating why theirs was the best. Not my idea of writing, oh sure the end result would be delivered in the form of writing, but that would be about where it ended. Essentially I would have to lie my face off in order to do this. First of all I don't care about barbeques, second there was very little to distinguish any one of the models in the various categories as been clearly superior. From my perspective, any one of them would likely be scrap metal in about five years. I would be more inclined to either say you can save yourself a great deal of hassle and just cook on the stove or in the oven you have inside your house. Either that or forget it - you don't need one! Clearly my need for personal integrity would preclude any semblance of satisfying what the outfit looking for the "writer" was expecting - consequently, no remuneration.  That's not writing - that's dictation - "oh sure you can use your creativity as long as it says what we want it to say." No thanks - next!!

Who's to say what written expression will go on to create a spark of inspiration in the next person. I certainly have experienced having shared something of myself in a group of people and during and after believing nothing I said made any sense and judged it as one of my more incoherent utterances, only to be met by someone when the gathering was over, that is thanking me profusely for what I said - "how much it helped them" gain clarity about something in their life and yet I no longer even know what I said.

I guess I wonder at what point will form and structure stifle free expression to such an extent that the true gold doesn't get past the editing process? What is trying to be said is lost to the expectations of they who have commissioned the work or in over concern for the sensibilities of who might read it.

So to conclude - what we have here is either a whole lot, to say not much of anything or maybe an example of stopping at nothing to say something! It's also an example of glorious paradox in that I can recall in my "young life" being advised that it was pointless "making something out of nothing" while today - as for everyday I choose to write, that exactly the objective!

Born Free ....... and then?

I stood at the bus stop the other day and noticed among the assortment of people standing there two women. One wore what in truth, I may be erroneously calling a traditional burka, the other wore, what might be described in contrast of the former, more form-fitting attire - which included boots that I suppose made their debut on some fashion runway, but could also serve quite handily to wade across a stream and perhaps if you were inclined, indulge in a little "River Ran Through It" complete with fly-fishing with out having it run through, the rest of your attire. Incidentally, I'm not particularly adept in the fashion world or fishing, however I will at all times give myself license to use the world as my metaphor.

Further truth would reveal that I don't know specifically which tradition, lineage, religious observance gave rise to the burka or what it means to those who wear it.  I honour and value diversity and the innate freedom within. Having said that - what came to mind as I stood and began to ponder, was "oppression." That is to be the focus of this particular rambling.

As I said I am largely lacking in real knowing concerning the Muslim faith - though I did attend a prayer session in a Mosque in Sarajevo (the "guest" of a very gracious man I met outside while I was trying to sneak a peek inside). As was the case in the various forms of sacred observance that I had the opportunity to experience while on spiritual safari in Europe - I was very present to the energy of reverence, even when I couldn't understand the spoken language or know what was being revered. I felt a bond in our joint want, to express reverence.

Just the same, my personal acquaintance with the faith is scant and even though I don't share the viewpoint that the "idea" that the burka garment represents oppression, if for no other reason than I know squat about them, so I'm not going to go about proliferating ignorance - obviously the seed of the idea has been planted, in order for me to make even, the mental association.

To be clear a more relevant oppression for me to consider would be - what stops me from asking someone if they could share with me more about their culture ....... and the list begins, fear of offending, fear of being rejected, fear of conflict and of course I would have to at least give some nodding recognition to ways in which, "political correctness" have been taken on by me. But I wonder, what would truly be more offensive - my ongoing ignorance or a question representing my genuine curiosity brought on my a desire to understand and better know and connect?

Back to the simultaneous observation of both these individuals at the bus stop - my thoughts went very quickly to, though the "western mind-set" that might be quick to label the contrasting visual as oppression versus freedom - who says the other women was any less "oppressed." Now first of all I'm not saying either necessarily is oppressed. I'm also not denying or diminishing the truth that women (& men) are being subject to a wide array of horrendous oppression throughout the world, for nothing more than who they are and what they believe. I am not comparing West to East - men to women, one religion to another.

I am saying that it's possible the women in the western world fashion ensemble, might if asked, claim her apparel represent her freedom of expression and look to the women standing beside her as being beaten down and an example of "all that is wrong with a male dominated world." But consider, there are countless millions of advertising dollars spent on subtly and not so subtly, creating an appetite for these fashions, replete with the associated psuedo-status that is afforded, (pun intended) through the hierarchy of various branding and the corresponding escalation of ticket price. Suddenly maybe it's not so clear who the oppressed one is anymore! Though I will again acknowledge oppression has many faces some with far more grave repercussions - those that call themselves "free" particularly if done at the expense of someone else's free choice, are in a bondage they have perhaps yet to recognize.

Obviously I can't and am not, making sweeping generalizations - both women could be self-assured, empowered individuals that know who they are and what they believe and make conscious choices. Before I go any further I'm not suggesting men aren't impacted by the same marketing influences or any less likely to march to unconscious forces. To make this more personal, I certainly know of the existence and power of my unconscious, to oppress my otherwise more authentic self. Certainly it is easier to look at other forms of oppression in the world and condemn that, than to own the ways I oppress myself or defend my beliefs at the cost of another's dignity. For me I am learning to be accountable and take full responsibility for my unconsciousness, while at the same time coming to know that the only useful response, is to love myself along the way.  My journey reveals that there has been no healing at times when I continue to persecute - this applies equally within & without.

I am not drawing lines in the sand with respect to declaring name brand good or name brand bad. I'm clear that my "value" is not determined one way or the other. I'm also clear that in many cases I am of course "free" to choose the more expensive item, but it is just as likely that what I become free of, is the money it cost to acquire it - it absolutely doesn't ensure quality or longevity.

I also will point out that a flip-side expression of the same oppression could look like what might be called Thrift shop snobbery - i.e. "those fools buying the expensive clothes - silly "sheeple" I would never spend that much on a shirt!!" Rather than authentically holding up the value of being good stewards of their finances, one could be militantly upholding unconscious lack of worth, through creating illusory self-worth, by bestowing virtue upon poverty.

One might ask - is the "right" choice for the wrong reason, still the right choice? Having posed the question, I would prefer to steer clear from the "oppression" of duality - i.e. "right" "wrong" by saying many an open window - might prove to have bars and that at least for me, "freedom" and "oppression" can be exercised moment to moment.

It is less likely that I can make a choice free from my own forms of oppression, if I don't know what they look like. I'm also clear that there is a difference between making the same choices unconsciously over and over by default and what appears on the surface to be the "same choice" but, a significant transformation has occurred and therefore the choice is being made with a completely different consciousness.

Didn't somebody once say "don't judge a book by it's cover." Maybe that could be expanded to say don't judge the person by the book!?

Can I Have My Attention Please!

I don't recall if I have begun a previous post in a similar fashion - if so, it matters not, as this still reflects present experience, awareness and pondering. As such, it likely will soon depart from anything previously expressed and traverse different territory.

So let me now say as a guy that lives alone - I am today, infinitely appreciating that I can bend over and tie up my own shoes! Various forms of dependence having been examined in my life and others not withstanding, this is not exclusively a celebration of independence as it is, a tribute to the human body (and while I'm at it - mine) what a marvel of connection, sensitivity, communication and healing. Conversely when out of "alignment" it can unleash a whole lotta hurt!

I suppose that is not any less true regardless of one's awareness of it - however I would say it certainly alters the ability to experience the myriad of miracles happening right under (or including) my nose. Ironic to consider the searching for or assumption that, if a miracle could be "believed" to be possible, it would happen only - out there somewhere. I will mention at this junction that I don't present these observations exclusively as though I am watching this from the vantage point of any sort of high ground - just as likely, I'm reflecting on something I've "awakened" to. So then my reflection can become the awakening for someone else. Just as that of another has given me the opportunity to allow myself to consider something else is possible. As such my journey can simultaneously be appreciated by me acknowledging my exceptional gifts and their use to allow me the knowing of being a link in the chain, none of which is any more or less important to the integrity of the chain, but what an extraordinary gift to become aware of this connection (both to self and to all that is) which is made that much sweeter, having experienced the "hell" of disconnection.

This particular article is not to be a treatise on theology, but suffice to say I don't believe in "hell" as an afterlife geographical destination rather it is a state of being involving varying degrees of disconnection from self and by extension life in general - a "mindset" frequently consisting of despair, desolation, hopelessness and isolation. I don't expect merely sharing my point of view to change that of another - but at least it gives some context to my continued discussion.

Today being Tuesday, I began this round of experience with my low back (left side) perhaps commencing subtly Saturday and becoming more acutely noticeable by Sunday afternoon and by Monday morning I was in considerable distress. Even at that I considered "waiting it out" as in some ranges of motion there was no problem, stretching did offer intermittent relief, but I began to realize unless I wanted to assume the stature of a "question mark" (somewhat of an exaggeration but essentially true) I actually couldn't extend (straighten up) without excruciating spasms that would take my breath away and occasionally lead to audible yelping. I suppose on the one hand this is potentially telling regarding my pain tolerance, on the other hand a more useful question to ask myself would be, where did I ever get the idea that there is any "virtue" in "pain tolerance?"

As I mentioned I was doing some stretching which could be interpreted as "self-care" even, self-deceptively so. First of all I will employ an oral hygiene metaphor. If one only flosses days before a "scheduled appointment" the hygienist  certainly won't be convinced of a regular flossing practice, the "truth" will be evident. So it is with stretching - the time to begin is not when the pain starts. I mean it might help to not lose further ground to the ravages of immobility, however it may just as readily further aggravate the situation.

Beyond this realization I wish to further expand on my experience of the principle of "listen to your body." Certainly the idea is not new to me - or likely to anyone reading this. I worked in "fitness" and have participated in a wide variety of exercise forms - so even though the words have come out of my own mouth innumerable times, I am relating to them and my body, newly as of right now.

I will begin by making the distinction there is a vast difference between "listening to my body" and ignoring it, driving it, over-riding it, vetoing it etc. and of course more extreme relating such as disassociating all together. This I have come to realize while lying flat on my back. I had taken to talking to my body (specifically those parts that were trying to get my attention) asking it what's up, praying with it, sending love to it, reassuring it).  Suffice to say all of this, though not entirely foreign to me in theory is only now, in varying degrees being integrated into my practice/consciousness. One communication received was "less is more" - again not a revolutionary statement - however consider at any given time, keeping in mind the very personal organic, intimate needs of any given individual the idea might not just be a "good idea" it could be the difference between continued "wellness" & injury. There is also for me the idea that it's my body and therefore mine to orchestrate and place demands on it. I do "occupy" it - but that sure doesn't mean I can't expand my awareness of what it is to treat it (me) with respect, love and tenderness.

Can you see the potential pitfalls in what I've just suggested - if I've been influenced by the "no pain no gain" dictum for example, my body could be trying in vain to get my attention and I could ignore the more subtle communication and continue to place excessive demands on it. If I surround myself with "like-minded" individuals then the attitude and behaviours are likely "normalized." The only thing anyone is "hearing" at that point is: "longer" "higher" "faster" - more.... more.......more!!

Further communication included ask of my body what it is "willing" to do. From this standpoint what is challenging enough to be considered exercise might look quite different one day to the next. Take for example one of the more popular activities these days: yoga. On the one hand there is value in maintaining and/or counteracting various muscle imbalances created through some of the modern day, frequently sedentary lifestyle practices - like "writing" for example, conversely to just thrust myself into a yoga class with the various aspects of rigidity and inflexibility that are the reality of my body and to try and force myself into some (many) of the poses is ill-advised. Not all classes or instructors etc. are created equal so there are some that give plenty of variations - I have also experienced during a full day yoga workshop the facilitator being rather persistent that I "try" what was for me a very extreme posture and while he might have thought he was being "encouraging" I would say, more like not listening to his participant. Of course at the end of the day it's me that has to recognize my limitations and agree or disagree with regard to the level of participation. The thing is - I am honouring my needs, which is from my understanding, "good yoga."(communion). If I had succumbed to his heavy-handed approach, my own perception of "peer pressure" the influence of a want to be "accepted in the group" which believe me, I have allowed to be a more or less influential energy in my life, I could have tried this move and really hurt myself. The instructor would be long gone - he was from out of town, beyond the fact I signed a "waiver form" I would have to recognize I played a part in my injury by not listening to my own "guidance" and the consequences would be pain, loss of function and compromised living for the length of time that was required to heal.

While I will say I find it intriguing what some are able to do with their bodies, again yoga practitioners or dancers - that doesn't mean I should look at a picture or attend a class, where someone is demonstrating "give yourself a colon exam-asana" and then try and do it.

For fifty-five years I have inhabited this body - nothing short of a miracle that it didn't serve me an eviction notice. I have not always been kind, respectful or compassionate with this, my earth-bound dwelling. Stored within the fibers and cells of my anatomy are traumas self-inflicted and otherwise - surely a program of wellness would then highlight a loving request to befriend my body rather than inflict any more pain. I could drop the need to "compete" asking rather that I only need meet myself where I'm at. Maybe the sign of a true warrior is he that can peacefully assume the "child's pose" while the "lulu-clad" threaten to render themselves limb from limb. I would suggest something/s entirely different is being developed in these moments.

Perhaps another time I will wax upon the holographic emotion/spiritual story just waiting for an attentive "ear" - lending more credence to the maxim "all the answers are within."

It's not just gas!

What's in a Name?

What if you got up New Year's morning and after some short contemplative observances and nectar of the God's (coffee should that be in doubt) you came to "realize" that rather than the "family" moniker that you have been "identified" by, which in my case has been "Mason"no longer held water.

Though I have known since primary school - that being adopted, this name was rather arbitrary where I was concerned. Incidentally this was the environment where, while "learning" to write (my?) name, they were adamant that I could not use both hands alternatively - I "should" only use one. So as I lacked the where with all to conceive an alternative - I wrote "Rob Mason" countless times with those oversized pencils that as I recall weren't stamped "right or left hand only."  and given the above reflection on my grade school experiences is it any wonder when I was perusing some old report cards of mine - found when clearing out my parents house last year, and I read a comment from my grade one teacher:"Robbie" would likely be "more successful" if he participated, it was as though the sky's parted and I then proclaimed out loud - I might have had little sense of who I was - but I most certainly wasn't interested in "participating" in who you were trying to condition me to be!

So then, what if during this morning coffee ritual - you were told in fact you are of the O'Neill dynasty? Would it matter? Would it make any difference? Allow me to answer that - at least from my perspective, Hell ya it makes a difference!!!!!!!!

Now don't get me wrong the "Masons" were a well-meaning bunch, they provided me with a stable home (if stable is said to mean - the same house ongoing and the same two people stood in the roles of parents - without any cast changes). However, despite their best efforts there was nothing they could do to ease my angst with respect to my origins. I frequently wondered - how the hell did I get here? And why here & not over there? So it's "Mason" is it? Could have just as easily been "Alias, Smith or Jones." It was a mystery to me the fuss people made about their ethnicity - I couldn't for the life of me find it in myself to "get" what they meant. Of course the lack of this knowing would haunt me for years to come. I didn't have to wonder if I was different - I knew it! Didn't belong, didn't fit in! "Uncle who? ...... what do you mean "my cousins?" They actually aren't my cousins!

This was further exacerbated when I considered the city I lived in and the country it was part of. I was baffled when people would compliment me on "my beautiful town" - "the streets are so clean!" (I felt like saying - why yes thank you, I made them from scratch!) As if I can take any credit for this town or that town - someone brought me home from the hospital, tagged me with their name, told me I live here now - what part of any of that can I take credit for?

What I do believe is,  I know what it is to lose your "identity" and be assimilated by another group. I know the heart/psyche pain that this causes I have empathy that runs through ever fiber of my being for those that have been (and continue to be) subject to colonialism/imperialism. Did I undergo all the same circumstances? No - not in exactly. Just the same they were thrust upon me without my prior consent and at the dictates of powers outside myself that presumed to know, what was best for me. I know the anguish this has caused meNo concern for ancestry, roots, cultural ways, spirituality - all appeared lost to me, until they weren't.

Upon making application to some government ministry's I have obtained documentation that gave brief biographical information on both my biological parents - as dictated by my mother to a social worker. Some years after that I was reunited with most of my family on her side, which was pretty amazing though at times surreal experience. My mother's side of the family is of British ancestry - my father's is Irish - though I have no idea of his identity. Many things have occurred over the last 3 or 4 years (some subtle, some anything but) that are bringing the ancestry on my father's side to the fore. It's as though that side of the "family" is asserting itself in an effort to have me know "who I am." Why now - after all these years? I have to conclude that time is right. All that has gone on - all the  personal work I have done has, been in preparation for this. I have been to Ireland once - back in 2011 it was the most amazing 2 weeks of my life (which only expanded has I continued to travel another two and a half months in other parts of Europe).

I had read the historical info on the website of the organization that did my dna testing - my gene type is highly concentrated in the North of Ireland and males with this gene subset are said to be direct ancestors of a 4th century king Niall of the Nine Hostages who formed the Ui Neill dynasty. I have read that many times - fascinated by the possibilities. It wasn't until I was reading on New Year's morning an article about Brian Boru and the article went on to say that he became the high king after defeating the Ui Neill (or O'Neill) dynasty. I quipped to myself "the bastard" and then immediately wondered why I would think such a thing. Then the penny dropped - Ui Neill (O'Neill) my heart swelled and tears rolled down my cheeks O'Neill - that's my ancestors - there was no doubt in my heart - plenty in my head!

Without question I will be returning to Ireland - sooner than later! I must continue this personal exploration of the nuture/nature riddle and unfolding mystery.

Perhaps I'll tread lightly should I encounter any O'Brien's maybe though won't embrace the discovery of my ancestry with the same enthusiasm.