When I mention the movement away from self-focus I have to clarify that a bit, I believe. When I first started in psychotherapy I often encountered one of the following two kinds of clients: those who were totally immersed in their own pain, process, and journey; and those who were equally completely immersed in their spiritual beliefs, progress, and processes.

I always experienced both of these approaches as self-focused even if the latter outwardly didn’t seem to be: their approach to life often was an attempt not to feel their own pain, process, and journey by turning towards the ‘bigger picture’, spirit, and a belief that in the end we are all connected on a higher level where it doesn’t matter what happens down here on earth. As much as I agree with those beliefs, I have found that when they are used to disregard life on earth and our current human incarnation, they become defences and serve self-focus. When this comes up in therapy I often work with the Inner Child: discovering the inner child-part of ourselves; understanding and healing its wounds; and giving the child what it needs.

That was in the beginning. Over time, however, I noticed things changing: increasingly people were talking about wanting to heal those inner aspects so they could stand in their truth as complete parts of the whole, as full and responsible members of that bigger picture. Slowly but surely, the focus went from Self occupied with Self to Self seeing itself as part of the Whole. People shifted. Clients had insights and realizations into their inherent ‘rightness’ and beauty — and in increasing numbers they began to see and accept their value in the world, their uniqueness, their place in the overall play we call life. For many clients this is an ongoing process. It is reflected in therapy by shifting to Inner Adult work: discovering the inner part of us that is responsible and able to evaluate our own needs as well as those of the world and people around us, and that strives to balance both in a healthy way.

Recently I noticed things shifting again: over the past few months I have increasingly come across a striving for a new kind of awareness, a more socially-directed awareness — a We-focus. This has shown up in my client work as well as in several other ways: blogs, articles, conversations with friends and colleagues. As I understand it, this We-focus is not only about being aware how one’s own actions influence everyone else (although that is part of it); it is about the true realization and understanding that our own existence is irrevocably connected to that of every other living thing.

Although it may sound similar to the spiritual “we are all the same energy” concept that I described (and mentioned as a possible defence) above, this We-focus or awareness is very different. This understanding, if it is truly felt in the depth of our being, makes it impossible for us to be passive and non-involved in life on this planet. With this truth really being felt in us, we know that living responsibly is more than a question of karma, more than “what I do now will return to me at some point”; we know that the truth is closer to “what I do now to this person / animal / living creature / thing happens right now, this very moment, to me, too”.

We-focus is not the same as spiritual focus, though. I believe that we can have a We-focus without any notion of a higher power per se. Using the image of the drop of water in the ocean of life (with each of us being one of the drops and the ocean being The All / God – Goddess / Universe), We-focus is not about the ocean: it is about the realization that there are millions of drops, millions of individuals who together create the bigger whole. What each one experiences that bigger whole to be is secondary. This is not to say either, that this We-focus negates a higher power or spiritual truth: it just doesn’t put the focus on that which is created by the gathering of all the energy in one place. It puts the focus onto the act of gathering the energy for the good of that which results.

To me, that is the beauty of the We-focus as I understand it (and there is a good possibility that I don’t understand it at all as it is meant in the articles and writings of others; just to make that clear): it doesn’t depend on a spiritual view, but neither does it negate it. It doesn’t negate the Self, the I either. It just simply allows us to look / live / experience beyond the Self — maybe towards the spiritual. It expands our experience of one-self to many-self, so to speak.

I am sure that this is and always has been the idea and energy behind all true spiritual paths; and a select few — those to whom we often refer as enlightened — have reached the fullness of this truth throughout time and history. What is new, I believe, is the number of ordinary people in our very western culture who are slowly coming to this understanding out of their own experiences and inner explorations.

In our times, with environmental problems mounting and social and political tensions rising everywhere, it is more vital than ever that as many of us humans as possible truly understand and know how it all fits together. The more of us live life from a position of We-focus, of truly understanding that we are all in this together and that what we do has an immediate impact on our lives, the better our chances of creating the change needed if we want to continue flourishing on this planet.

We-focus doesn’t require us to make huge changes either (unless we feel drawn to do so); every little action will create a shift if done from a place of We-focus. There is a qualitative difference between recycling because it saves me money or because I understand the harm it does if I don’t recycle. There is a similar difference between giving a few dollars to a street person because I feel guilty or because I have a sense that this person could be (and is) me, right here, right now. This difference in quality is as important as the acts themselves as it opens the heart and creates even more connection and care for each other and the world we are living in.

One last thought: I am a spiritual psychotherapist and it would be somewhat incongruent if I didn’t mention my own understanding of the spiritual aspect in all of this. Our era has sometimes been referred to as the era of the heart chakra or of Christ-consciousness. I feel that this shift towards We-focus is the shift that will finally bring this Christ-consciousness to full fruition. It is in the true understanding of our inter-connectedness that we can fully open ourselves to the love that treats us and our neighbours in exactly the same way. It is in this realization that we can feel true compassion (literally, “suffering together”) for all around us. This is the heart chakra at its best. Getting there? As always, its about the path, not the destination. Each step of the path creates a tiny shift; and each tiny shift adds to the million other tiny shifts that are happening right now — until they move the ocean that is life.

‘The human biography is a symphony which each individual personally composes.’
Bernhard Lievegoed

Moving through life on earth means moving through time. Each step we take, each moment of growth and understanding we experience, each crossroads we pass take us from the past into the present and towards the future. The way we imagine, experience, and remember these moments is the way in which we create our lives, our biographies. It is the rhythm on which we compose the symphony of our lives.

For many people the future is a scary realm. We can’t see it, can’t truly know it. We are stepping  into the unknown — and endeavour that creates some anticipation in the bravest men and women. If we perceive the future as a dark realm out of our control and with many traps set for us to make us stumble, stepping forward every day is a difficult thing to do. People living with such an image of the future often try to hold as much control as possible in the present moment. They put patterns and rhythms in place that are followed strictly. They carefully choose — and often control — the people and events around them. They may attempt to get information about the future with the help of psychics, probability calculations, analytical reports etc. People who are afraid of the future most likely move through life very carefully, basing most of their decisions on the past.

If, on the other hand, the future is seen as a realm of excitement and adventure with new and wonderful things waiting for us around every corner, life is experienced quite differently. People living with an image of the future as a better and more exciting place often try to rush into it, to use it as the place of escape from the doldrums and difficulties of their daily lives. They pay less attention to the present moment, often completely disregard the past and instead focus on future possibilities. They are seen as dreamers and builders of castles-in-the-sky — and often times they are because it is difficult for them to follow through and truly take a hold of the opportunities and possibilities that are presenting themselves. People who view the future as the better place to be most likely move through life at a very fast pace — often missing the moment because they are already way ahead of themselves.

Then there is a third way of looking at life in time, mentioned in a quote by Taisen Deshimaru “Time is not a line, but a series of now points.” This often is the view that we are told is the most balanced and spiritual. However, if this is how we are looking at life, we disregard the past and the future and moving forward becomes a flow without our own will or determination being a part of it. We live life flowing along, reacting more than acting, following whatever presents. People who truly live by this idea are bound to come up against the same situations over and again. They likely won’t be leaders and they may even have difficulties taking full responsibility for their lives. They may also find themselves slightly disconnected from life and people because living fully by this idea can be somewhat equal to “out of sight, out of mind”. Nonetheless, people living this idea of time often feel content and happy since each moment is new and fresh.

For most of us, life and time are experienced somewhere in between these paradigms: we try to live in the moment, know that we are influenced by the past — consciously or not, and hope and dream of a better future. Never is this more apparent then when we find ourselves at some crossroads in life.

If you have ever stood at a crossing of the roads without a map or a clear idea as to where to go, you likely have done as many before you: you stood for a moment, looked ahead on one path, then on the other, turned around to look back, and then just stood and looked at what was immediately around you, hoping for clues or an inspiration as to which path to choose. Perhaps, when the grass and trees around you didn’t offer immediate and clear direction, you then closed your eyes and just stood for a moment longer, listening inside yourself for any subtle ‘feeling’ before finally opening your eyes and making a choice. Perhaps, after walking on the chosen path for a minute or two, you started to feel uneasy or ‘not right’ and so you turned around, back to the intersection, to choose the other path. Or perhaps you just simply couldn’t decide, felt uneasy with either choice, and finally decided to turn back and try again later.

Standing at the emotional and active crossroads on our lives paths is very similar to standing there in the woods during our hiking expeditions. And yet, more often than not when it comes to these inner crossroads we get stuck or turn back without really giving either new path a chance. We base our decisions for the future on our memories of past events or we anticipate a loss as payment for whatever gain we hope to have from moving forward. We are afraid of the unknown that lies ahead and so we get stuck in the past and the present.

The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche said “The future influences the present just as much as the past.” This is true. However, we need to allow that influence to take a hold of us in order to use it for our forward movement. Maybe this is the true meaning of the idea of time as a series of now-points: the point as the place in time and space where two lines intersect. If we feel ourselves too firmly planted on the timelines of the past, this now-point indeed becomes a past-to-now-line. If we are mainly focused on future possibilities the now-point becomes a now-to-future-line. Standing there at the crossroads, eyes closed, listening inside means standing in the now-point and listening to both, the stream of the past with all its experience and knowledge and the stream of the future with its promises and wisdom.

How do you know if you are hearing the melody of the future-stream or a fancy of your imagination? Pay attention to the feeling that this melody engenders in you: do you feel calm, solid, grounded, not matter what the melody sings to you? If you are truly hearing the future stream sing, it simply is the truth of this path you are hearing. You don’t need to be afraid or in pain. You know that this is a choice and you can or cannot take it. It also will include subtle undertones of gifts and possibilities hidden within the path.

Any melody that presents only dire circumstances or glorious opportunities has to be heard with suspicion because life doesn’t usually present us with black-and-white choices. So when you stand there, at the next crossroads of your life, and you don’t know where to move next, try this: take a paper and draw the path you are on. Then draw the paths before you, the paths of the choices you see right now — and then add one path for the choice you haven’t seen yet. If you feel like it, draw the environments of the paths: does one feel like it has a steeper learning curve than the others; is one set with more traps and downfalls; does one seem like smooth sailing?

When all this is done, look at your drawing, take a deep breath, and close your eyes. Find yourself standing there, at the crossroads you just drew. See, smell, and feel the things you just put on paper — and then stand and listen inside. Hear the melody of each path (including that of the path you have walked to get here) and let it find its harmony with your body and soul.  Which path draws you more? Which one scares you more? Which one of them fits better into the rhythm of your life right now.

If you wish, you can imagine yourself walking down any one of the paths. Should you decide to do this, pay attention to how you feel as you walk, not only to what you see. You may be surprised to find that your body has a pretty good feeling for what fits with it and your life and what doesn’t.

Finally, as you walk ahead, be aware that everything you have learned about life is with you, right there, in your metaphorical backpack. All your skills, your experiences, and your curiosity are with you; and they are adaptable. Life teaches us in a very flexible manner: nothing is learned for only one occasion. What you learned about your anger when dealing with a relationship issue is true, too, when you encounter anger in different situations and disguises. Your awareness of grief helps you deal with and understand the grief of others. And your ability to play as a child allows you to also see the playfulness and joy in the things around you.

Moving through life in this manner isn’t always easy. Fear is a powerful adversary and even the bravest men and women encounter fear at the threshold of the unknown. Our future is always unknown and so fear is never far when we step forward. But remembering that we don’t need to rush, that we can stop and breathe and listen, and that we have been in this place before many-a-time can help us face the fear. The future is always there, no matter what — and it is always in flux. As long as we stop, listen, and question, we are standing at the now-point of our lives, perfectly grounded and firmly connected to both, the stream of our past and the stream of our future.

‘Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is to not stop questioning.‘
Albert Einstein

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Love is many things to many people:  a mother’s love or a father’s love; physical love, sex, passion; love for God (and country); unconditional love; romantic love – what we fall into; love of a friend; love for a pet; love of food (or money etc.); universal love; the love of the universe / God / Goddess; etc.

It is a sign of the importance of love that there are so many expressions of it. Love’s expressions span from the purely materialistic to the purely spiritual and every level of existence and energy in between.

When we think of love we think of comfort, warmth, belonging to someone (or something), being allowed to be who we are and what we are without judgment. We think of love and connect it with freedom without loneliness. We think of true connection.

And true, unconditional love is exactly that: a full and complete expression of our being part of the whole, part of everything and everyone else, perfect in our own right because the world is perfect and we are off the world and we are the world. One of the lines in Max Ehrmann’s poem Desiderata speaks to this:

“You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.”

Unconditional love is the full embrace and embodiment of our connection to the universe. It is no longer a question of feeling it, acknowledging it, knowing it: we are part of it all and the all is part of us. It is truth. And this one quality is true for all forms and expressions of love. Their differences lie mostly in the strength, duration, and expansion of this truth.

Consider this for a moment:

When you are in love, the whole world seems rosy and wonderful. You somehow know that everything is just right – that is if you are truly in love. If you are infatuated there may be more worry and jalousie than anything else.

When someone becomes a parent, this is true, too. Yes, there are concerns and worries – but most new parents experience that amazing sense of having received a gift and feeling truly connected when they first hold their new child. One parent once described it me as “seeing God in her (daughter’s) eyes”.

Many people experience that feeling of deep belonging and love when in nature, especially when encountering a “perfect” moment. And you could go on relating this feeling to all true moments of love.

Some say that there is only one force in the universe: love! And that fear (which, others hold, is the second, the balancing force) is simply an absence of love. If we look at love as being truly connected, this concept makes sense. When I am connected in such a way, when I am living this connection, I can handle anything. There is no reason for me to be afraid. I understand – because I live it – the rightness of anything that happens to me.

That doesn’t mean that I don’t do anything about it. It only means that I fully understand (with my heart if not with my head) that this other is also a part of me and that in order to deal with it I have to treat it accordingly. That is not an easy concept or experience to hold on to – and in our human lives there are very few (if any) long stretches of true unconditional love toward others. We are after all human! We have our needs and insecurities and many times some of that slips in with our love: I want my partner’s love in return for mine; the new mother or father hopes that her / his child will love her / him, too; I want to have the wonderful feeling I have in nature – every day. But for moments in time we can feel this wonderful, connecting, unconditional love and we can remember it.

Because love gives us this wonderful, connected knowing we can come to crave it. We believe that we will be better off when we feel it and have it all the time, and so we may start to hold on to the material expressions of the moments in which we felt love. Material distortions of love are just as many as love’s true expressions: obsession, infatuation, desire, jalousie, greed, sex drive, addiction, etc. All of them can be linked back to our need to feel the connection with the web-of-life.

We need to remember that we do have love in our lives all the time! We just often miss the subtle, gentle experience of it while we are looking for the big physical expression that we expect.

As cliche as it may sound, love is everywhere and in everything. Finding a real, true connection to anything means finding a way (back) into love. Love is our birth right and our natural place of origin and destination.

However, it isn’t always a big feeling. Love is a constant, low-level emotion that sometimes bursts out into the open. Connecting and holding on to love means understanding and accepting that and allowing that low-level feeling to be enough and to fill us completely.

Connecting to love can be as easy as facing the sun and taking a deep, conscious breath. With this breath we re-establish our connection to the world – and thus to love.

Connecting to love can also be done through creativity. When we consciously create something truly new, faithfully copy something old, or try to find our own way to express something we have seen or heard before, we connect to the web of life, we tap into it and feel it flowing in us. We are in love.

Connecting to love can also be done by connecting to beauty, by learning to see with the heart again. When we find beauty – the flutter of a butterfly’s wing or the play of a tree’s shadows against the walls of a high-rise – in an otherwise gray world, we reconnect to the web-of-life, to the truth of the unity of God / the universe / the All, and to love.

Reading some lines of Barry Manilow’s song I Write the Songs it becomes obvious how much he must love music. Although his words were written to describe his understanding of music, they are equally true for love.

“My home lies deep within you and I’ve got my own place in your soul. Now when I look out through your eyes I’m young again, even though I’m very old. [...] It’s from me, it’s for you. It’s from you, it’s for me. It’s a worldwide symphony.”

Love lies deep within us – and within the universe. It has its own place in our souls – and it is our soul purpose. It makes us look at life with new, young eyes although it is as old as the world and older. It always gives to both – the one who gives and the one who receives – at the same time. And it truly is a worldwide symphony!

Summer is a wonderful time to find our way back into the connectedness and love of the world: spend time outside; play, talk, and connect to other human beings; look around and find the beauty in everyday life; be creative; move your body; breathe deeply of the world and you will likely find that there is a constant, gentle love surrounding you – always.

Have a wonderful and loving summer experience,

Essay Archives: Essays from 2005 to now

Many a great philosopher and religious man (or woman) has asked the seemingly vital question “What is reality?” Some have attempted an answer, inevitably using their own perspectives, observations, and conclusions and thus – arguably – really only describing their own reality. Now, I am not a philosopher or religious scholar; I am a psychotherapist, a counsellor and educator. And so, looking at the question of reality I feel that in order to even attempt an answer we may have to answer a different question first: the question “Who am I?”

This question, like the question of reality, has many levels. It seems to be important to people: we ask it of others all the time – “who are you?” On first glance it also seems deceptively easy to answer: “I am Sabine, psychotherapist, married, living in Ontario.” But really, when looking at that answer it doesn’t say anything about who I am; it only describes what I do and have done so far in my life. So, what is the answer to that question and why do I believe it is so important?

Let me start by answering the second question first: I believe that our purpose in the here and now is based on finding the answer to this question. According to some people, ours is the era of the heart chakra; the era of love and understanding, acceptance and healing. And how can we love, understand, accept, or heal anything or anyone, if we don’t know who we are? The inscription over the wisdom schools of the ancient societies read Know Thyself. The bible speaks about loving your neighbour as you love yourself. And many initiation rituals over the centuries included a moment of having to face ourselves. It is in ourselves that we find our essence. It is in our bodies that we find the divine energy that rests in all of nature. It is in finding ourselves and facing ourselves that we finally can learn to truly be loving, accepting, and understanding of everything and everyone around us. It is by knowing and accepting ourselves that we heal – us first, then our primary relationships, our work relationships, our neighbourhoods and cities, and finally Mother Earth and global society. Too lofty a goal? Maybe. Achievable? I believe it is, each in our own way.

That is the why. So how about the how? How does one answer the question “who am I?”

There are many ways of starting such a journey of self-awareness and self-discovery: illness, loss or another trauma in our personal lives; a conscious decision that this is the right time to go on that journey; prompting from others or from life to name but a few. Depending on our start position and our general disposition towards life’s mysteries and the unknown, the journey has a different flavour for everyone. But one thing it requires of anyone who starts it is courage. It isn’t easy to see ourselves clearly and honestly and most people I know shy away from some of the less flattering facets of that puzzle of self.

I personally have found the image of a garden to be very helpful in my search of Self. Like a garden I have a wide variety of plant (and animal) life in me: some parts are more colourful, others less so; some like it shady, others thrive in the glaring sunlight; some require a lot of water, others do well with very little. Like every garden, I have areas that are somewhat plagued by weeds – or at least by what I have labeled weeds at this time. Some of the things I deem good and valuable may be growing out of hand every once in a while. At times I get a real urge to make changes which has lead more than once to the attempt to eradicate anything I don’t like – doesn’t work, generally speaking: it grows right back. And in spite of all the seemingly chaotic energies, somehow the whole makes sense and brings about a feeling of calm and peace – as long as I don’t overly focus on those weeds.

You see why this images works for me? For those of you who don’t feel very attuned with gardening, try the image of a puzzle or a road. Whatever your reference point, I find it helps having one to keep the perspective. It is really easy to get lost in all that is “wrong” with us.

So, once you have your image, what’s next? Well, observation is next. Before you do anything you need to know what it is you have to work with. Observation in terms of self-discovery can come in several forms. There are the things you have noticed about yourself: you are easily touched by another person’s pain; you are very punctual and don’t have much patience with people who aren’t; you are often being misunderstood; you have a lot of energy; etc. Then there are things that others have said to and about you: you explode easily; you are a clean freak (or could be more of one); you are so kind; you always seem to know what to do; you are aloof; etc. Finally there are those things that seem less specific but still may have an impact on who you are: you are Canadian which people say means you are friendly, polite, and laid back; you are a Taurus, which seems to mean you are family oriented and earthy; you are a woman, mother, and wife, all of which come with there own set of characteristics.

That’s the visible part of the garden, the laid out flower beds so to speak. But what about those hidden corners with all those weeds? This is were we need to tap into our courage. Good thing is that no one else needs to be allowed to see those areas as long as we look at them. These are the fears, suppressed feelings, and unacknowledged urges we have; all those things we feel are inferior and “bad”: our singing voice; the fear of the dark; prejudices and judgements; anger that can’t ever be expressed; the secret wish to be somewhere else and not with the friends / family we are with. These areas need to be outlined carefully because over time we will have to work on them if we want that inner garden to be beautiful and fruitful.

There is an exercise that I do from time to time and that I often suggest to clients: writing out all that you know about yourself and what you have been told about yourself as well as what it is that you really identify with (not everything others say about you is true; it may be their inner confusions and hidden areas that see something that they are afraid off). By putting it all on paper often certain patterns come to light. Also, doing this exercise every once in a while shows where and how we have changed and grown and what areas still need attention. Life patterns become visible in this way, as well as supportive patterns.

The next step in the process is acceptance: here is this garden of mine, here is all of me as I know it to be right now! Let that be okay. I am not going to go about changing it all right away. I am going to sit with it, let it unfold, stay aware of it, and observe how all those different parts of me interact, create new parts, strengthen or weaken each other. I am going to look carefully at those bits that I have labeled “weeds” or “bad”. Who knows, maybe they turn out to be really valuable. Lemon balm, peppermint, and oregano are healing herbs – and as everyone who every planted them in a yard or garden knows, they take over: they are weeds in behaviour. If I looked just at the behaviour I’d eradicate them from my garden. As it is, I just give them clearly defined areas in which they can grow. Similarly, my fear may be getting out of hand completely. But maybe I need it in order to stay aware of real danger and in order to keep observant and deal with new situations with discretion. So, rather than eliminating my fear or just overriding it every time it comes up, I may want to learn how to keep it in bounds and use it on my terms. I can only do this if I accept that fear is a part of me and probably is there for a reason.

So, now we know what’s there and we have an idea of what may need some work. All that is left to do is the work and then the maintenance. The work can take different forms again: emotional healing work and therapy; prayer and spiritual work; energetic healing; physical exercise and nutrition; relationship and communication work; skill development; acceptance and surrender; etc. Maintenance just requires ongoing awareness. It doesn’t mean that we have to spend every minute of every day scanning our inner landscape for any little weed coming up. It just means being aware if one area is starting to sprout more than its usual growth. Also, the work doesn’t have to be done all at once. Like with a garden or a yard, it is best to pace oneself: one year I tackle this area, then I let it rest and focus on something else. And every now and then – very frequently – I just sit back and enjoy the beauty of it, imperfections, wilderness, and design all the same. And I invite others to share in the beauty: fostering relationships, supporting friends and family in their growth and exploration, accepting others for who they are and where they are at and lovingly making them aware of really blatant problems in our relationship. For really, what’s the use of the most beautiful garden if no one ever gets to see and enjoy it!

At the end of this process – or actually, already half way there – you will get a rather clear sense of who you really are. It may not be all you expected but it will be real – as real as it can be at that particular point in your journey. It’s a freeing experience. It takes away the guess work and the hard work of trying to be someone else; and it makes it much easier to experience your reality in the here and now. Enjoy the process!

Essay Archives: Essays from 2005 to now

Revisiting the old emotional places of our lives can have a similar impact on us. As we are moving through our own inner growth we may suddenly come upon a belief or a memory we had forgotten about: the realization that there was a time in life when we loved what we now feel we can’t do; the memory of an experience of total connection to all around us; the belief, the knowing, that the world is a safe place. And as we come upon those old places in our mind and soul, we may find them more dusty, smaller, and less colourful than we chose to believe; shining more brightly than our fears would let them be; or feeling familiar and yet different to the understanding of our adult Self.

The same is true for those not-so-pleasant memories of heartbreaks, fear, abuse, and worry. They, too, may come upon us unexpectedly or by design; and they, too, may feel different from our experience of the adult Self: darker, more worrisome, and sometimes more confusing because now we may understand rationally why things happened the way they did.

Finding those old and hidden memories usually means pulling apart the image we have created of our lives. Suddenly there are pieces that don’t fit into this picture and require us to take it all apart and assemble it differently. Or we find pieces that create a different kind of image when we use them to fill in the empty corners of our life-puzzle. Whatever our experience with these moments of re-cognition, with re-membering the past, usually it results in movement forward on our path. Either we get confused – and hence unstuck – or we finally understand as the “penny drops” and are ready to move on.

Like it or not, our past is a part of us. Like a tree that can’t survive if you cut its oldest, primary roots we wouldn’t be who we are if it wasn’t for our past. The Self that I know myself to be would die if I actually could cut out my past experiences. So if our past is there for better or for worse, what to do with it if it hurts us? Because the real importance lies not in what puzzle pieces we have but in what we do with the new impulse coming out of the image that all the available pieces create.

In their book In Search of Balance: Discovering Harmony in a Changing World John Robbins and Ann Mortifee write: “Adversity is not sent to harm us, but to help us develop our strength and resourcefulness. When we find ourselves entering an abyss, and having to face our own insecurities and fears, willingly or unwillingly, we are being offered an opportunity to awaken powers that have been waiting for these particular conditions to arise so that our hidden capacities can be brought to healing. Life is not given to us because it will be easy. It is given to us because we are capable of it. Each sorrow that we have had to encounter testifies to the tremendous courage it takes to live life fully. Our wounds speak not of our weakness, but of our bravery.”

Looking at the past in this way, our struggles may be easier to face: yes, it hurt. And we survived. We did more than survive, we grew. We moved on to become grown people with our own lives and responsibilities, and even if we don’t do it all perfectly, we are doing the best we can – and we are doing that based on the past that we are trying so hard to forget. If all that pain that is so close to the surface that we need to fight it resulted in what we are now, how much “better” may we be if we look at the painful stuff, throw out and let go what we don’t want anymore, and discover some of the gold hidden underneath it that used to give us strength and joy? How much better could we be in our lives if we allowed the joy, faith, courage, and creativity that are likely buried underneath it all to once again be part of our lives?

In my line of work I have the privilege to witness many such moments of rediscovery in my clients: be it the sudden realization that there used to be a place or a person that truly brought relieve from the severe pain someone suffered as a child; the memory of a creative activity that another person used to love – and actually be good at – until life circumstances or other people convinced her that she had to let it go; or the simple realization that for all his life he had a tendency to “hang on for dear life”. Whatever the realization or memory, it usually results in in a sense of starting afresh on a path well known.

And it works the same way for me: feeling stuck in a place of “all work and no play” it was the memory of a similar time in my life that allowed me to get refocused and moving again. Remembering not only the emptiness of this past time but also what moved me out of this emptiness and the feelings of connection and joy that eventually resulted, I found the impulse to move me forward. I got unstuck. I started to focus my inward energy and attention on my spirituality again. And just like back then, it takes time, is confusing at times, and greatly rewarding at others.

What I love most about these moments of re-membering and re-cognition is that they don’t require us to step off our path. They are more like confirmations: the path becomes clearer and wider. The brush on both sides gets cleared a little and some stones are removed to make the walking easier. The path may still be steep, but it usually becomes a bit easier to walk.

The possibility of coming up with little nuggets of gold when digging through the past is one of the reasons why I like to revisit turning points in my life and important dreams every once in a while. Sometimes a memory hurts too much to be touched at one time but can be looked at with less pain at another. If I left those memories untouched forever I may miss the gift hidden underneath. And that gift may be the one thing I really need to move on to a new beginning on my well known, wonderfully winding, and at times rather rugged path through life. This does not mean that I have to drag along the past every step of the way. Indeed, it means that I only need to take along those pieces that still feel like they may hold some treasure. The truly old and really just painful memories can be left behind; those that have been looked at and mined for their golden wisdom, too. But I can only decide which ones are worth taking along if I allow myself to look at them all at some point.

Life, I believe, is a gift. Sometimes gifts are difficult to handle, especially if they are not what we expected or if they are given in celebration of something that we didn’t want to acknowledge in the first place. But there they are – wanting us to do something with them. So, the next time life throws you a curve ball and brings up one of those seemingly useless and extremely confusing memories, try taking a step back from the pain. Draw the picture or write the story of it in third person. Ask yourself honestly what the gift may be that is buried underneath the obvious. If necessary, seek out help. Digging for gold is hard work and may require additional manpower. And always remember that this stop will likely not take you off your life path at all; it will probably just make the walking easier and the next goal clearer as the picture of your life becomes more complete and more true with every piece of the puzzle.

Essay Archives: Essays from 2005 to now

I hadn’t had time to read for a while so I decided on a short story. The story that jumped out at me was “A Child’s Christmas In Wales” and since, growing up in Germany, I had never read this classic tale of Christmas splendours past I decided it was just the right thing to get me into the spirit of the season.

After the first couple of lines I had to stop and readjust my brain. I didn’t understand the imagery! Now, this is a rather serious thing for me since I am living life largely based on usage of imagery: I use it to explain things to myself and others; I look for it to carry me forward in my daily life when things get too crazy; I use it to receive information in meditation and in my dreams; and it helps me understand the people I work with and those I live with. If I can make myself see it, I can understand it. And now here I was, not able to see those whimsical, beautiful images conjured up by Dylan Thomas!

Fortunately, it took only the first shock of acknowledgment and a serious shift in inner attitude to switch back into my “normal”, but the experience left me wondering: how much does the daily hassle and bustle of life limit or even seriously harm my – our – ability to imagine? And how much does this decrease in imaginative powers influence our ability to truly see?

I believe that the ability to imagine things is essential for actually seeing them. If I can’t imagine an elephant, what would I see when I stood in front of one? How often have I been looking for an object, say a book, that I imagined in a certain way, say with an orange back, only to be walking by it three times before finally seeing it – because it had a yellow back and thus didn’t fit my imagination? I know that the same is true for many people. We imagine something and thus invite it into our reality. Hence, without imagination our reality would shrink quite dramatically.

And yet, we don’t put much stock into imagination anymore, it seems to me. We are too busy to take the time – and imagination does take time. It needs quiet of mind or at least a certain mind-set to flourish. It needs a bit of a warm-up if it hasn’t been used for a while. And it does need a little bit of more or less uninterrupted time to create something out of, well, the ethers. So, all our running and being busy is counter-productive as far as imagining is concerned; and thus it may be counter-productive to life itself. For, isn’t it the idea of all this busy-ness to expand our world, to be more affluent, have more opportunity and more freedom? But what if we can’t imagine ourselves being there because we are too busy working towards it?

Don’t get me wrong: I don’t know too many people who can’t see themselves at a beach with a book, away from all their daily chores. However, I am quite certain that for many of us that means longing to be there, worrying about how long it will be until we are, and hoping that it’ll be all we wish for. So basically we are imagining ourselves longing, worrying, and hoping! Imagining ourselves being there means actually being there in every way other than physically: feeling it, hearing it, tasting it, sensing it, seeing it. Just like reading a short story and being able to feel the chilly winds when facing the “two-tongued sea” and its “ice-edged fish freezing waves”, wanting to find a stick and break free those poor fish.

Imagining means tapping into a larger pool of reality. Doing that may take a bit of time and practice. Understanding what we pull up (or out) may take some more of the same. But how and where to even start? I happen to believe that this is actually the perfect time of year to start such new practice of an age-old skill. Winter is naturally conducive to dreaming and imagining. As children, young children, we may have imagined Santa flying across the moon or miracles shining down on us from distant star. The twinkling lights of living room windows reflected in the snow outside became cold little elves trying to hurry up with their business in order to get back inside, into the warm. Sounds in the dark in front of the window were menacing or magical depending on the sound and the night. And there were shapes in the darkness that we hardly ever saw in the bright evenings of summer. So, what would it take for us to re-capture some of that imagination?

Well, for one we could allow for some of those outside experiences to become noticeable again. An evening spent with candle light or the electric lights turned low, reading or telling stories versus watching TV may help; maybe even spending a half-hour without any much noise, just sitting, looking, listening, and maybe sipping on a hot cup of something nice. Going for an evening walk and actually looking at those light reflections and twinkling stars may be helpful, too. Telling and reading stories that are well written and engage the imagination instead of doing all the imagining for us also is a very good tool to re-kindle those old childhood skills. Any kind of art exercise can be helpful: word games with the children, drawing or painting, modelling work with clay or play-dough, movement, rhyming, sing-alongs, and creating music together – all of those are activities that engage the imagination and allow it to flow and flourish.

You may have notice that many of the above activities also invite connections with others: that, too, is good for the imagination. It fertilizes our own imagination with new impulses and energies. It adds colours and sounds we didn’t include before. It expands our imagination – and thus our world – beyond the reachable realms of our own ethers.

Our dreams are also a stronghold for our imagination and I have often seen people who claim to have “no imagination” have the most amazing dreams. They don’t often mention them or use them for anything since they believe that they aren’t really relevant – but they have them and I believe that is their souls attempt at getting them to experience their imagination. Working with our dreams can be a good way to revive imagination, too. Just writing them down means we have to listen to those images and experiences that don’t always make “daytime sense”. If we then start to work with those images, learn to decipher their meaning and messages for us, we are stepping fully into the language and experience of our imagination. For those of you who are interested in this approach, take a look at the dream course I mention at the end of this essay.
The winter months are often seen as the “dark time” of the year: mornings and evenings stretch into our daytime hours, nights are long and cold, and even inside the lights don’t always seem to be able to reach into every corner. But what if this year we chose to accept these things as part of our own “enlightenment”? What if we started to look at those dark corners and dark nights and allowed ourselves to see the hidden stories, beings, and worlds in them? What if we aimed for the light of spirit and soul that is only waiting to be discovered right beyond the visible? I believe we’d find a world larger, lighter, happier, and kinder than the one we see when we only look at the visible. We’d find magic, knowledge, wisdom, support, information, care, and love we didn’t expect and didn’t know existed. And that, I think, would be a truly enriching gift to ourselves and the world at large.

In this spirit I wish you all happy holidays, whatever it may be that you are celebrating this winter. May your hearts be warm and filled with the magic of a winter’s night; and may 2010 come in with beautiful energy and carry on to be joyous, healthy, and happy for you.

By the way, if you are looking for a different kind of Christmas gift this year, use your imagination: a donation to support a child in need, to help protect endangered animals, or to give shelter to homeless people here; an energetic gift of stones or essences to support your friends and family on another level; a class or course to support their or your own imagination. Below is a very short and very personal list of offerings through Soul-Spirit Integration and other individuals and organizations I find worth mentioning. It’s a very incomplete list but maybe it inspires you to find your own perfect match!      Happy Holidays!

Soul Spirit Integration

Dream Workshop: 5 week course

Greeting Cards: Photo cards and art cards for all occasions

Donations

Word Wildlife Fund
protection of endangered animals for as little as $40

Foster Parents Plan
supportive and life giving gifts from $12 up

Covenant House
Shelter and support for homeless youth in Toronto and Canada

Casey House
Compassionate care to people living with / affected by HIV/AIDS

Other Kinds of Gifts

Vision Sparx
Visioning Boarding Course

Green Moon Monday
Handcrafted jewellery with semi-precious stones and much energy – phone: (416) 224-1891

Frank Gross
Art of Photography – cards, prints, and more

Judy Onorato — Positive Energy
Feng Shui, Psychic Readings, and Flower Essences – positiveenergy@sympatico.ca

Loneliness is a difficult feeling. On the one hand it has been praised as necessary and life-affirming by many a philosopher or theologian. The German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer said: “A man can be himself only so long as he is alone; … if he does not love solitude, he will not love freedom; for it is only when he is alone that he is really free.” On the other hand, loneliness has been described as feeling utterly disconnected and barren. The painter Vincent Van Gogh explained it thus: “One may have a blazing hearth in one’s soul, and yet no one ever comes to sit by it.” So, what is loneliness really – and what does it have to do with change and transition?

Originally the word loneliness was derived from the word alone and that in turn meant all in one. So, being lonely then meant being all-in-one. That doesn’t sound so bad. Indeed, it sounds somewhat healthy. It also explains why so many great thinkers have put such high hopes on being alone. After all, the goal of most philosophies and religions has been to create an experience of the all in one.

But not everyone strives for great transcended experiences and down here, in our earthly lives, we humans are creatures of the herd. We like to be with others: we crave contact, love, and touch, and we often use others as the barometer to the rightness of our own actions and convictions. Without others we may get closer to God or the all-in-one – but we feel distant from our brothers and sisters on earth. Thus loneliness always has a bitter taste to it.

The theologian and philosopher Paul Tillich said that “Language has created the word loneliness to express the pain of being alone, and the word solitude to express the glory of being alone.” With this differentiation, loneliness now has become the ugly step-sister of that glorious feeling of solitude that many of us still cherish. It has become the dark side of all-in-one-ness, the side where being all-in-one does not mean we are complete and whole, but that there may be no one else out there who completes us, who fits perfectly into the mosaic that is us.

That often is the trouble with getting closer to that place of inner completeness, inner wholeness: once we are whole, we are good with ourselves – or at least much better than we used to be – but we are different. We may be more life-affirming, more self-affirming, more confident, or hold better boundaries. We may be less clingy and fearful. We may have more compassion and understanding for the short-comings of others as we are getting more tolerant of the short-comings within ourselves. All this means that we are different, and being different means that we are not as others – and we ourselves – are used to us. With that often comes a big change in how we relate to others – and that often results in changes in our social environment.

Not everyone likes it when we change – even if the change is to the better. People may feel as if they are expected to change, too, or they may feel uncomfortable having an example of “change is possible” in front of them. We, the changing ones, may also feel uncomfortable. Now that we are more confident it doesn’t feel all that great anymore to be out with the girls and gossip. Our journey may have brought us to the realization that there is more to life than work, relationship, and consumerism and so we may feel an urge to explore different areas of our souls and selves. The old friends may not be able to follow.

One of the complaints I heard very frequently these past months was something like this: “I am different. I don’t want to talk about TV and fashion. I want to explore. I have a different view on life and the universe and I want to talk about these things without having to explain and justify every concept.” These experiences make us feel even more lonely and since solitude often has been a natural part of the journey that brought us to this point, the urge to share and rejoice in a group of understanding others is even bigger – and the resulting loneliness if we don’t find those people is even deeper felt. The good news is, though, that there are many people who have been on that journey. It may be a question of finding them, but they are out there. Courses and workshops on creativity and spirituality may help you find other like-minded souls, and nature is a great match maker in that respect, too.

But what about romantic or intimate relationships? A friend of mine said not long ago that the worst loneliness she ever felt was that of being alone in her partnership. Many of my clients feel similarly: they don’t want to be lonely in their relationships but they often feel desperately lonely without one. Inner transformation can leave us in this place, too. As complete as we may feel inside – and for most people I know that is always a relative feeling for as long as we are on the journey – we still are yearning for the loving partner, the person for whom our heart always opens, and who is there with us, not matter what.

It always pains me to realize how many of us are still looking for that “one true love” and how much pain we are inflicting on ourselves for that quest. I am not saying that true love does not exist. It does, I have seen it. However, I do believe that true love is only possible because both partners are able and willing to make compromises without compromising themselves. In other words, both partners have to be able to be alone with themselves so that they don’t feel that they are giving up something just in order to fit in with their partner. If they rest within themselves, they can give up most of their lives without losing themselves. As both partners have to be able and willing to do that, this is not an easy place to come to. More than that, even when found, there is no guarantee that things will stay like that forever. People change, life changes. We may be going on another growth spurt and our partner may not be able or willing to come along – or vice versa.

I do believe that the only way never to feel lonely is to stop living. Loneliness is a part of being human. It is the experience of being both, an individual with a connection to God and a soul that is undying and a member of the human race who is bound to social life and a deep need to belong. It is what keeps us alive and moving forward. Dag Hammarskjold, the Swedish diplomat and Nobel Price laureate, felt that “loneliness may may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for.” It is that feeling of not belonging, of not being at one with it all, that may stop us altogether or spur us on to further growth and greater deeds. It isn’t an easy road to walk but it is generally a rewarding one.

At the end of that road I believe two things happen: For one, we finally realize that we have never really been alone at all. We have always had the world of soul and spirit around us; we always were amongst friends, even when we didn’t know and didn’t see them; and we always were moving towards – and inside – the light of hope. Secondly, we realize that we won’t escape loneliness as long as we are alive because at the end of the day we are alone in our experiences and our truths. The German singer-songwriter Reinhard Mey has a song titled Allein (Alone) which describes this very well. A line in the chorus translates like this: “Alone. We are alone. We come in and we go out – all alone. We may be loved and surrounded by much affection, but at the crossroads of life we are always alone.” He goes on to describe a life that was filled with love and light and good friends; and yet, he says: “The dearer the friend, the worse the insight that we have to take the last step on our path alone. No matter how much we cling to each other, in the end we are all facing the same lonely bench in the same cold hallway.”*

So here is my thought: if loneliness is unavoidable and if it is a stepping stone on the path to true inner connection, then why not embrace it? It is spring and I look at all those little flowers that are fighting their way through the darkness of the soil into the sunlight and into life. They just spent three or four months in total isolation and darkness. If plants could be alone, that would certainly qualify. But nonetheless, they fight, they grow, they unfold and they emerge in clumps of others just like them. Their deep, dark loneliness is followed by a celebration of life and companionship and a summer of growth. However, at the end there is another period of death and isolation. Plants use that time to gather life-energy and strength to bring forth their best flowers and fruit during their next summer. What, if we would do the same: use our loneliness to bring forth that something that is worth living for – and risking another period of loneliness at the end?!?

To end with another quote: “To transform the emptiness of loneliness, to the fullness of aloneness. Ah, that is the secret of life.” Sunita Khosla

*Reinhard Mey, Allein: “Allein, wir sind allein. Wir kommen und wir gehen ganz allein. Wir mögen noch so sehr geliebt, von Zuneigung umgeben sein, die Kreuzwege des Lebens gehen wir immer ganz allein. [...] Je teurer der Gefährte desto bitterer der Schluss, daß ich den letzten Schritt des Wegs alleine gehen muss. So sehr wir uns auch aneinander klammern, uns bleibt nur die gleiche leere Bank auf einem kalten leeren Flur.”

Photo Pebble in Surf by Frank Gross – Photographer

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Hello Everyone,

It has been well over a year that I posted the last essay on this website, and I am sure many of you forgot about me. I can’t blame you. Truth is: I just got so busy that I couldn’t fit in writing essays into my schedule. Today, a year-and-some later, I am finally taking the time again to write and re-connect – and I hope to find you still interested and curious about life.

This past year has been a very busy year for us, my husband and me. He went through an additional year of university training, started a new job and is currently adjusting to its very different daily rhythms. I made some important changes to my practice, went on a long road trip to Alberta with my mother, started an online degree program, and tried to keep up with my friendships.

Often throughout the year I felt guilty because I hadn’t spoken to a friend in a long time – sometimes over a month, sometimes even two months. I began to value the convenience of email, which allowed me at least to type messages at 12:00 am – often the only time of day that I seemed to have for personal, relaxed conversation. I began to fret about the busy-ness of life and the feeling that I didn’t have time for the important things in life. But then it occurred to me one day: maybe this is actually okay. Maybe what I am experiencing – and what a lot of my friends seemed to be experiencing, too – is just a normal phase of life.

It is an old truth that the only constant in the universe is change. Life consists of constant, ongoing, relentless change; even our bodies renew and change themselves almost completely roughly every seven years. The seasons change, our minds change, our flexibility (physical, emotional, mental) changes, our relationships and capabilities change – everything always changes.

However, within this constant change there often is rhythm and a natural flow that make change more bearable. Since we know that there will be spring and summer, it is easier to accept and maybe even embrace winter. Since we know that there will be a Sunday, a holiday, a break coming up sometime, we can keep going with our tasks for a while longer. And because we have been teenagers ourselves, we can more easily accept the mood-swings of the teens in our lives – we know that this, too, shall pass.

Sometimes the rhythms are short and clear because they repeat often, like the change of seasons. Sometimes they are longer but we know about them intuitively or from experience; life is such a rhythm we know although we haven’t lived it all yet. But some rhythms seem to be more random, less predictable, and sometimes hard to understand. Friendship rhythms can fall under that category.

Some friendships seem meant to be. No matter what happens, no matter how often we connect – or don’t connect, no matter how similar or different our lives go: we still stay in contact and when we speak we know each other, love each other, and understand each other. There is no (or very little) guilt when we don’t manage to meet for a year or two – and yet we know that one phone call, one email, one visit will allow us to pick up where we left off. Those, I believe, are the friendships that are bound to our life-rhythm. They are of a quality and purpose that supports the long rhythm of a life time, from youth to old age. They are as patient and reliable as our bodies – with us, not matter what; sometimes not in agreement, but always true enough to keep trying.

Then there are friendships that are bound to shorter rhythms, e.g. the rhythm of our career: they change as our career changes. As we are starting a new job, those friends we made at the old company may fall away. Or those high school friends with whom we swore to be friends forever are suddenly not calling back or we don’t find the time to meet with them. It can be difficult to follow those rhythms, especially if the new phase into which we are moving is scary, unwanted, or vastly different from what we have known before. This often happens when a relationship ends in separation or death. Suddenly old friends stop calling or visit less often. It may hurt because it can feel like abandonment. But often it is just a recognition – at a very deep and unconscious level – that the purpose for this friendship, it’s time, has passed (sometimes it’s also plain fear of not knowing what to say; but that’s for another essay).

Finally, there are “seasonal” friendships. Those are the friendships that can be tied to very specific events – the trip to Europe, the summer at the lake, the yoga class, the book club, etc. Those friendships follow the shortest rhythms of our life and, although often deep and immensely healing, they usually aren’t missed as much as they pass. Maybe that is because we recognize their short-lived nature more easily because they are so closely tied into our activities.

What does all of this have to do with not having time to connect and feeling guilty about it? Well, the feeling of guilt usually comes up when we feel that we have missed doing something important, or if we feel we have done something that wasn’t warranted. But what if we recognize the busy-ness in our lives as a normal part of our life’s rhythm – middle-age, roughly the time between 30 and 50 when we are busy-busy building lives, growing assets, developing careers and / or families, etc? This is the time in our life-rhythms when we create our highest achievements and juggle the most things: work, kids, parents, house / mortgage, yard work, repairs, household, traveling, pets, exercise, diet, cars, continued education – oh yes, and friends and time for ourselves.

If this is true, if those years in the middle of our biography are the years of juggling and busy-ness, and if our friendships follow the rhythms of our lives in some ways, then maybe there is less reason for feeling guilty if we don’t manage to call our friends every week. Maybe we need to accept that this is a phase of life, part of a rhythm, and that those who are meant to be in this place with us, will be. That is not to say that we should – or could – willfully neglect our friendships; but if it is becoming an additional chore to call Jack or meet with Jill, then maybe Jack and Jill don’t belong to the particular rhythms we are living right now. Maybe at this time in our biographies we can only hold on to those life-rhythm friends.

Looking around I can see clearly that I am not the only one caught in the busy-ness of mid-life – even my single friends seem to be juggling and rushing most of their days. And while there is reason to discuss the value of down-time, relaxation, and de-stressing life choices, the bottom line is that this is a busy time in most people’s life. Those of my friends who are in the same boat are also those who understand that I may only be able to send that email at 12:00 am once every month. Indeed, usually their answer arrives about three weeks later, penned at 12:30 am and signed with a smiley.

I know that most of them will be there when this phase slowly morphs into the next, when we have a bit more time at our hands, when it seems easier to free a whole Sunday afternoon for a nice hike. Until then we will continue to email, phone, and meet whenever we can squeeze a minute out of our schedules. We’ll say as much in 15 minutes as we can, and we will likely connect just wonderfully. And if we don’t speak in a month or two, we will smile about that, too, and promise we’ll try to do better next time – knowing full well that, try as we may, it’ll probably be another two months until we’ll have coffee again. No use stressing about it.

Until next time,

Sabine

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Summer time. July 1^st. Canada Day. Sitting in the backyard, listening to music and children’s laughter in the neighbouring yards, taking in the scents of roses, lilies and barbeques, feeling the cool evening air on the skin. Life is beautiful!

It is in moments like this that it is easy to feel good. For a while all the worries of the past days and weeks fall away and we feel satisfied and content for a moment. If the scenario above doesn’t work for you take a moment and find the one that does: sitting by a lake in the summer, rushing down a hill on skies in mid-winter, making love to the love of your life… No matter what it is, the point is we all have known a moment like that in our lives.

These moments are more precious than many of us may realize for they are what keeps us going in the long run. The energy and emotions that we have in such moments are the same as those that are generally referred to as “being grounded, centred, and connected”. And it is in these grounded and centred moments that we find the energy and connection to life, the world and other living beings that makes us curious and hopeful enough to keep exploring and striving for more.

Nature is a very powerful ally in the search for extra energy. Unfortunately, in our busy city-lives we don’t always take enough time to be in nature. And often, when we do make it into the park, to the lake, or even into the backyard we are so preoccupied with getting there and fixing things that we often miss the life-restoring connection that is offered to us.

I am fortunate to have a very large backyard to spend time in. Over the years I have – gently, I hope – changed the overgrown wilderness into something that is natural enough for its wild inhabitants and yet comfortable enough for the humans who spend time in it. We have a skunk living under the shed, for five years in harmony with our cats. We have raccoons visiting, rabbits, mice, squirrels and a wide variety of birds making a home back here. There are large, old trees, small flowering bushes, fruit bushes and flowers. A couple of years we put in a pond and now all the elementals have a home in this backyard. And yet, this year something felt off.

Last summer I spent mostly indoors due to a broken leg. So my yard was not tended to very well. The older areas of the yard, the ones planted a few years before, survived this “neglect” well enough. But there is a spot in the yard that had been cultivated only a year before – and it didn’t do all that well. And I noticed it this year. There was an angry energy in this area of the yard, defensive and somewhat rebellious. A friend mentioned: “It feels like ‘you didn’t want me, so get lost.’” This energy made me stay away from that spot for most of the spring. It was only in the past three weeks that I finally found the time – and courage – to face that energy and befriend it. Now the spot is re-planted and used almost daily. A chair and a work table have been placed there and I have found my spot to do my art work. Everyone is happy – most of all the elementals and nature beings in this spot.

As I was sitting there today I realized that this is not so different from how we often are with other people: someone is grumpy, angry, or sad and because we don’t have the time or energy or courage to face these feelings we avoid them. We don’t do anything to explore or change the situation and often that only aggravates it. Have you ever had an experience where you didn’t phone someone because it felt too much like a chore at the time. And then, after a few weeks, it felt awkward. And finally, after a couple of months it felt outright wrong and insulting to call them now, after all that time? However, these relationships, just like the spot in my yard, become the opposite of what they are meant to be. They become energy suckers when they were meant to be energy boosters.

Over the years I have learned that one of the best ways for me to face those difficult situations and energies is two-fold:

1) Get energy in another way first: go for a nice walk, have a bath, eat a good meal, have a conversation with someone you love and care for, pet your cat or play with your dog, spend time with your children, dance, watch a good movie or what ever else feels good. Then, when you are feeling good, centred and grounded go to step 2)

2) Remember the good times you had with this person or that spot. Remember what makes it worthwhile to try and restore the good feeling about the relationship. This builds up good will towards the other, the situation or the spot you are working on. And when that is achieved facing the person / situation / spot is much easier, almost a pleasure.

Keeping these energy boosters working in our lives is important. They provide us with a connection to he world around us. They help us see ourselves in the mirrors they are holding. They provide joy and beauty when we need a pick-me-up. And they hold the healing energies for our body and soul. Our relationships are our life purpose – in one way or another. Paying attention to them will always help us move forward, grow and enjoy life to the fullest.

If you are looking for something to do this summer, consider a Dream Course. Or check the Living Bridge website for information on a course on Communication Skills or on Boundaries and Energetic Protection.

I hope you will have a wonderful, enjoyable and relaxing summer.

Until September,

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It has been a long time since I sat down to write an essay for this website. My new endeavour, The Living Bridge- Centre for Social Evolution, required a lot of attention. We went to the Total Health Show in Toronto in March and the preparations for this took up most of that month.

April was filled with more personal explorations and now, at the end of this time of old pathways seen in new light, I am happy to emerge into spring. The flowers in our backyard are competing for brilliancy: the bright yellows of the daffodils, the saturated green of the lawn, the deep violet of Violets, the shyly approaching blue and pink hues of forget-me-nots. No matter how gray the sky may be, these colours shine through the clouds and the rain. They remind me of the power of optimism and acceptance.

These past few weeks I had the opportunity to rediscover an old love of mine: simple pleasures. The smell of a flower or a bread in the oven; the colours of those flowers in the backyard; the sound of the neighbour’s kids playing ball; the taste of a hot cup of tea on a cool, rainy afternoon – those things are not only of great comfort but they restore soul and spirit.

All too easily we get lost in the race of everyday life: work, home, food, kids, sports, car – there is too much to do in the day. I, too, got lost in this racing-speed kind of life. Trying to make a living often is difficult enough. Trying to also hold on to some kind of identity and self-respect can seem almost impossible. As always, my clients in the past months reflected this for me. The questions ranged from “How did I get here?” to “Who am I?”

As we were struggling with these questions I had a unsettling experience. On this beautiful weekend a couple of weeks ago I was out in the yard. I had been yearning for this for weeks (if not months) and I had been very excited when the morning brought sunshine and warmth. I had gone outside, tea in hand, assessing the work that needed to be done and then had taken to it with a lot of energy. But after a couple of hours of raking and cleaning out flowerbeds I started to feel something quite different: anger! “Why was I doing all this work? Why wouldn’t my husband help? Surely, he’d appreciate the nice yard but work in it? No.” And on I went.

Now, the thing about our yard, my husband, and me is that from the very beginning it was clear that he is not an outdoors kind of person. He doesn’t like gardening, it doesn’t give him anything, and if there are daffodils or wild bramble bushes in the yard is really not all that big of difference to him. I, on the other hand, love the yard work. I can spend hours taking to the first little buds opening up, digging out weeds that threaten to drown the more delicate flowers, or breathe in the sent of fresh cut grass. It revives me; makes me feel whole, connected and alive. Or at least it used to do that. On that Saturday two weeks ago it didn’t. And that is when I woke up.

I stopped the yard work and sat down in the sun wondering where I had gone wrong. What had happened to me that I had lost connection to the things I loved? And it wasn’t just the yard. I tried to remember when I had truly tasted a salad the last time? When was the last time I had really seen a colour – breathing it in with my whole body, with my heart? When had I really played with the cats last, or truly enjoyed preparing a meal? It had been a long time.

That afternoon I decided to change things. I went back to my yard, but I took the time I knew I had. I took breaks, sipped my tea, cuddled with the cats. I sat and watched the birds hopping across the lawn and admired the blue of the sky with all my heart. It wasn’t all that easy. Several times I had to remind myself to breathe and keep seated instead of jumping up and doing something that had just caught my eye.

In that process I also reconnected to Little. I had been neglecting her for a while, too, and now I heard her remind me that this kind of life and living used to be my normal. And, she reminded me, I used to be happier and more productive living like that. It is true. When I think back at all the things that I could get done in a day I shiver. The secret really was that I loved what I was doing. Or at least I could find some simple pleasure in it somewhere.

Since that moment I have been more aware of those moments again. I stop and listen for the voice inside that tells me where the next minute of joy is going to come from. I have readjusted my vision of the world to focus first and foremost on that which is beautiful and only secondarily that which is difficult or dark. And I am taking the time to appreciate that which I already have before I start working towards that which I want to achieve now. It is paying off already: I feel more energetic than I have in a long time. And a laughed out loud several times this past week.

Yesterday I drew the Angelic Messengers Card JOY. And as I read it something else came to my awareness: by appreciating the simple pleasures in our lives we are not only helping ourselves by getting connected and feeling happy. We are also focusing our gratitude and joy onto those moments that support and create these simple pleasures: the tea fields or herbal gardens that provide for the tea in our cup, to soil that nourishes the flowers in backyard, the artist who drew the beautiful image that thrills our heart. And in doing so we are healing the world as much as we are healing ourselves. We send loving energy, support, and hope out there. So our simple pleasure becomes part of the healing energy of the Universe. If nothing else, then that is a good enough reason to indulge in those Simple Pleasures daily.

Enjoy the scents, sights, and sensations of spring.

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