A place to call home

It is snowing outside. Not the whirling kind of snow, or the horizontal kind. The kind that falls soft and thick, millions of flakes falling endlessly quiet like an early summer shower of apple blossoms--the gentle release from branches, the graceful, weightless descent and the carpet mosaic that it seems wrong to walk upon -- cloud-like and moist.

I was downtown this evening. Went down to meet my good friend Margie for supper. I took the bus downtown, arriving too early, as is common now that I walk/take the bus everywhere I go. Instead of going straight to the restaurant where I would have to sit smelling the aromas of other people's food while I waited for the sun to set, I decided to go sit in the basement of the Confederation Centre for the Arts. The basement sounds dark, but in reality this building that houses a large theatre, the public library, a restaurant/cafe, giftshop and galleries has been built in such a way that there are courtyards into which the skylight falls, and large glass windows looking out onto the courtyards that allow the winter light to filter into the building.

This evening I sat and said some prayers for the Fast -- gratitude prayers for making it this far through the Fast without getting sick as I usually do--and some prayers for grace and strength as I continue to move forward in my job search. Then I sat and watched the snow fall into one of the courtyards. There are two trees in the courtyard that I looked out into, and the snow was collecting in fine, weightless ridges along the tops of all the bare branches. The branches were strung with white Christmas lights that were on, but the sky was still light enough that the chain of tiny lights appeared faint -- almost not visible. I sat and watched the snow fall and fall. I find watching snow fall to be extremely calming. Mesmerizing. I could sit quietly and watch it fall for hours and be entirely content.

When it was time to head over to the restaurant I collected my belongings, put on my down-filled coat, my scarf, my woolen hat, and my mittens, and headed back out into the snow. Margie was waiting for me when I got there, and we enjoyed a relaxing meal together -- me sharing about my challenges with finding a job, and she sharing a little bit about her recent trip to work with women market gardeners in Kenya. There are some people whose company I enjoy so much that I find the time with them always flies past....it always feels as though we just sat down for a chat and it is already time to go again. Margie is one of those people, and I was sorry when it was time to head home.

One thing that I love about Margie is that she always makes me reflect more deeply about how I am living my life, encouraging me to always be conscious about what I am doing, saying, thinking and feeling, and the impact of all of this on what is actually happening in the world around me. Tonight she asked me if I had thought about why I might not have found work yet, and whether there was something inside of me that was influencing the physical job hunting process. I am inclined to think "nope-- this is all Immigration Canada's fault, or the fault of the ridiculous citizenship laws that allow some people to have the right to work and prevent others from easily finding a job." But if I allow myself to reflect on her question, I think it is worth looking at. As she said: "You want so much to find a home and settle down. But is there part of you that does not think you are worthy of having a place in the world?" I am still thinking about this question, and it is resonating with me at some level, so i think I will keep thinking about it. Maybe I do need to make an internal shift....learn something and make some changes in my perspective before a job offer will come my way.

I am home now, listening to the snow plow outside, the clock ticking in the kitchen, and the sound of the keys tapping away beneath my fingers. Lots to think about, and a long snowy night ahead for finishing the novel I am reading right now -- The Custodian of Paradise -- and dreaming, once my head hits the pillow. Tomorrow morning I will be up before the sun again for another day of Fasting. Make my breakfast by the light of the stove top and eat it perched on a wooden stool in the kitchen, easing my body into another day. And you, friends? Is there something that you need to learn before the next door of your journey will open and lead you onwards?

Courage looks like this

I read a blog entry this evening by Jennifer Pastiloff entitled "What does courage mean to you?" It was a great article, and it made me stop and reflect on the last few weeks of my life, and how many people have told me how courageously I am living.

It is interesting to me that I rarely recognize as courageous behaviour that those around me consider to be so. Isn't it always like that in life though? Our most powerful, inspired, strong, empowered, or courageous moments are ones in which we are so immersed in whatever we are doing that we do not actually stop and take a step back from what is happening and see it for what it is -- truly miraculous!

On December 28th I caught a plane back to Prince Edward Island. I had a two-week ticket, which I was secretly praying I would never have to use the return portion of. Since arriving so many things have happened, and so much is STILL HAPPENING that it is quite clear to me that there has been considerable amounts of divine intervention on my behalf being dispersed into the universe over the last six weeks. Here are some of the incredible things that have happened:

1. My computer stopped working (as in it was completely, utterly dead, friends) and then after ten days of not working miraculously (not) started again one fine day.

2. My incredibly generous, patient and encouraging friends have welcomed me into their homes, given me a bed, fed me (I have done some of the cooking!!) and let me use their washing machines, showers, and internet connections for over six weeks. For free. And despite a few minor miscommunications, we all still love each other. Doesn't scream divine intervention in capital letters? You tell me.

3. Someone is willing to hire me and help me apply for a full-time work visa (fingers crossed....so far so good).

4. Two acquaintances have offered to have me move in with them (and their husbands and kids...I'm telling you....I am surrounded by guardian angels) if I have to find a room and still do not have full time work when this happens.

5. I was at the farmer's market two weeks ago at the end of the day when everyone was packing up and going home and someone gave me a freshly cooked meal for free because they had leftovers, another person gave me two home-baked cookies and two scones for free (again, too many left over), and a third person gave me two bags of organic bean sprouts. Add that to the farm-fresh eggs that Ricky, my former boss's brother gave me ON THE FARM where they were laid, the organic beef that my former boss gave me last week, and the organic pumpkin that my former boss's mother gave me that I used to make pumpkin mushroom risotto for friends a few weeks ago.

6. I may have just scored an absolutely AWESOME social media job for a local coffee shop that sells tea and coffee from local businesses..... I offered to do it for free until I get my work visa, but the manager has offered me free tea from the company I used to write for in exchange for my work. SWEET!

7. I am currently house and dog-sitting for my dear friends Ann and Stephen. They live in a gorgeous home in one of the cutest neighbourhoods in town with a fake fireplace (fire currently burning to my left as I type), and the most comfortable bed I have ever slept in. AND they left me their car too. I cannot tell you how blessed I was feeling driving home from a study circle that I was facilitating tonight, instead of walking in the cold, sitting on a seat that actually heats up at the push of a button. As if having wheels were not enough, the seats heat up. I mean, really friends :-)

8. My dear friend Louise, who has put up with having me as a house guest longer than anyone else since I arrived, bought me a box of dried figs that she gave to me when I left to move over to Ann and Stephen's house today. Figs + fireplace + time to blog in the late quiet hours of the night = heaven, pure and simple.

9.  Whenever I start running low on funds, someone steps up and asks me to pet-sit, clean their kitchen, babysit, or take notes at a meeting.

10. I am meeting one of my best friends for breakfast tomorrow morning.

There is more I could list here, but I think you get the picture. The universe is smiling down on me.

But to get back to courage....

Coming back here has required a lot of courage on my part. I rarely stop to recognize it as such, but it is true. A lot of people have questioned this decision. I was after all living in California--the land of opportunity. And I DID leave Prince Edward Island two years ago after much prayer and soul-searching to follow my heart. But it is the very same heart that has led me back here, and I am learning to trust it despite the doubt and confusion being expressed by family and friends. Why am I back in a country where I have no legal right to work and where I cannot actually afford rent until I find full time work and obtain a work visa when my priority is finding stable work? Why am I back in the North Atlantic where the temperature drops below zero and usually remains there for many months before rising above freezing again in the (very) late spring when I could be living in the land of sun and warmth? And why am I returning to a place with so few single men my age when one of my reasons for leaving was to meet someone to share my life with? Good questions, and ones that I do not have very good answers to. But for the first time in a long time I am not questioning where I am or why. I am not wishing I were elsewhere doing something other than what I am doing. Sure it is tough to have to walk everywhere in the cold, and staying with friends non-stop has meant that I have had to learn to be more flexible and adaptable, and trying to live on random jobs here and there is far from ideal, but I am surrounded by people whose company I adore, land that I love and feels like home, and non-stop opportunities to be of service to my community. Things just feel right. Even when they are tough.

I am not sure, of course, that I will be able to stay here. But I will be here until the end of April, and I am incredibly grateful for the extra two months to work on trying to build a life for myself here again. Sometimes you have to leave a place to be able to come back and call it home. And sometimes you have you trust that a foothold will be set in front of you even though you cannot actually see where you are headed.

People tell me all the time that it must be really stressful to be in my situation, but to be honest, it isn't. I have not felt much stress at all since arriving here. I feel some deep-rooted certainty that everything is going to work out somehow. I call that faith, but I guess another word for that would be courage.

What colour is your roar?

This photo is the property of Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

"What better resolution can we make than to listen to our own desires which are messengers from our souls, and to have the courage to obey them?"  ~Edward Bach

"Almost everything -- all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure -- these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart."  ~Steve Jobs

"According to the laws of aerodynamics the bumblebee should be unable to fly. Because of the size, weight and shape of its body in relationship to the total wing span, flying is scientifically impossible. The bumblebee, being ignorant of scientific theory, goes ahead and flies anyway."  ~John Maxwell

I have been thinking about courage. The courage to be who I am, and empower others to be who they are. Let me explain. Over the past few days I have come across a number of people who both lived and are living examples of what it means to essentially, undeniably, gloriously and passionately embrace ones differences. Two of these individuals I came across on Chookooloonks. One is Steve Jobs, who I have written about before. Karen Walrond posted a link to this eulogy about Steve Jobs, given by his sister at his memorial service. Like you, I have read a lot about Steve Jobs in the last few weeks. But this gave me a totally different perspective on the man's life. It made me realize how courageous he was. Yes, he was brilliant and creative and so many other things as well. But none of his brilliance would have been made manifest had he not embraced what made him different from everyone else. And that takes courage. 

Karen Walrond also shared a link to a short documentary about Beyonce, and the making of her latest album "4." This documentary is inspiring because Beyonce is a tremendously driven and hard-working woman with a very clear vision and an undeniable amount of talent. The woman exudes rhythm. None of that talent would be manifested in the world without courage though. A tremendous amount of it. She has a vision, and she does not let anything prevent her from realizing it. Even if that means a whole lot of extra work for her and everyone around her. She is being her essential self, and she is not apologetic about it.

The last few days I was reading Say Her Name, by Francisco Goldman. Goldman's wife, Aura Estrada, is no longer alive, but the short time she was here she lived with such passion and presence that I closed the book and lay in bed silently for a long time, in awe. Her devotion to her writing and her academic career was so complete. Her commitment to incorporating everything that made her who she was into her work so absolute. I have been thinking about her ever since I closed the book. She had a courage was so fierce that I pity anyone who tried to stand in her way. The woman blazed courage.

And then today a friend sent a link to an interview that she just did for China Radio International, in Beijing, China. My friend, Shirin Sahba Moore is an exceptionally talented painter. She has lived all over the world, and her artwork incorporates all the cultures and landscapes she has experienced. Her paintings are very different from anything I have seen before, and, probably in part because of this (and because they are stunningly beautiful), they are in high demand. Shirin may not see it this way, but from my perspective, the way she embraces what makes her and her life different, and creates works of art from that place of difference, is courageous. More courage.

Tonight we had a women's devotional gathering in our living room. I chose the readings and music, and the theme I decided on was courage. The three quotes at the top of this page are from tonight's readings. The question on my mind is: What makes us take that step of personal courage that enables each of us to realize our fullest potential? For some the step seems to come, if not easily, then at least naturally. But what about the rest of us, I wonder? How do we move from realizing what our unique, and different gifts are to fully manifesting them in the world in a way that is both personally fulfilling and of service to humanity?

How about you, friends? How do you practice courage in embracing--fully--who you are? What colour is your roar?

Finite disappointments

"We must accept finite disappointment, but we must never lose infinite hope." -Martin Luther King, Jr.

Sometimes you don't get the job. Or the guy. Sometimes you can't afford a haircut. Or a meal out. Or gifts for friends. Sometimes you lose your an entire day's worth of work when your computer crashes. The one person you really want to talk to is not responding to any of your calls. You order hot chocolate, and get served bitter coffee instead. Sometimes someone close to you hurts your feelings one too many times. Sometimes you lie in bed at night wondering where you belong in the universe. When the pieces of your world will ever come together. When you will find work you love again. Get asked out on a date by someone you are actually excited to be with. Find a community that feels like home.

And sometimes you get to plant seeds in a greenhouse in the middle of a rainstorm, and listen to the downpour sliding over the plastic, the wind howling around you, loving the sound. Sometimes friends invite you over for dinner unexpectedly. Sometimes you get to garden with a group of youth that help you to get outside yourself a little, and focus on serving others for an hour, or an afternoon. Sometimes the rain falling rhythmically in sheets outside at night is luxurious and calming. A quiet walk at night on wet sidewalks helps you to re-group and find hope in the reflection of stars and branches beneath your feet. Sometimes a stranger catches your eye in a coffee shop and smiles. Sometimes you win trips to a Caribbean Island in the middle of winter. Sometimes you go into the childrens' section of a bookstore for the first time in years, on a rainy day, looking for a birthday present for a friend's daughter, who is turning two, and end up spending a couple of hours hunkered down on a miniature chair at a little table, fully engrossed in planting a garden that grows and grows, transforming an entire city; or searching for your own colour like Mr. Chameleon, who was tired of turning the colour of everything around him; or trying to figure out where you belong in the universe with a little boy who searches high and low, only to find that he belongs right where he is, in the present moment. Sometimes you spend a Friday evening surrounded by 19 new friends whose company you enjoy. Who make you laugh, and remind you to be silly. Sometimes it rains and rains for days and days, and, instead of wishing it were sunny, you spend time listening more, inhaling the aroma of earth, and feeling blessed.

Sometimes you feel more than a little shaky. But your friends make you laugh. They make you laugh and laugh. They put things back into perspective. Sometimes you drive home after a lovely, long, rich evening with friends, still tender on the inside, but knowing that this moment, too, will pass. That life is full of finite disappointments, but that you are also surrounded with infinite moments of hope, beauty and courage. Sometimes you whisper prayers of gratitude into the night before you fall asleep, listening to rain endlessly outside.

Feeling good

So a friend of mine actually posted this recording of Nina Simone on her tumblr site, littlemissconceptions, yesterday, but I came across it, and it has been making me feel so playful all day that I just had to re-post it here. The video was posted to you tube by Tamara Connolly.

It is a clear sunny day here in northern California. Blossoms are starting press through the branches on trees, and I find myself standing and staring at them in disbelief. It is, after all, only February. I took a long walk both Saturday and Sunday, wearing a tank top, and felt overheated even so. It is definitely a far cry from PEI in February, that is for sure.

I am working away at a new little story about tea for a client on PEI, and revving up for a busy week. I will be spending an entire glorious day volunteering at Soil Born Farms on Thursday, helping with the gardening in the morning, and with a local youth group that comes out to farm in the afternoon. I cannot wait to get my hands back in the soil, and to be working with youth again. I will write a blog entry about my first day on the farm later this week.

I am also revving up for a slew of vaccinations for my upcoming trip to the Dominican Republic. I am not looking forward to dreading this. I have a great aversion to needles of any kind, and the idea of being jabbed over and over with large sharp-tipped objects is making me cringe. I can tell how excited I am about this trip though, because I was nowhere near this willing to get jabbed when I went to Costa Rica in 2000, and I really looked forward to that trip.

I have been talking to a lot of friends back in Canada lately via skype, and trying to figure out what I will be doing this spring and summer. A close friend of mine may be heading off to work in France for a year, and she has asked if I would like to come house sit. I have been missing PEI a lot this year, and part of me thinks that I would like it to be a permanent part of my life, even if I only spend part of my year there, so I am seriously considering her offer. I have realized that I seem to only be able to last a maximum of six months without seeing my friends back on PEI, so it would make sense to establish the island as a permanent part of my life. My friends and parents here in California on the other hand look at me with a *look* of sheer dismay when I talk about moving back to PEI...even when I introduce the idea by saying that I would "move back for a while," since the journey I took last winter and spring led me away from the island, and many of the reasons that I left are still very present in my mind and heart. Yes. I have a lot I am deliberating on at the moment.

Another thing I am thinking a lot about this week is my writing, and how to best continue developing it. I have not been doing much creative writing lately, and I am missing it. Missing how it infuses my life with excitement and enthusiasm in the same way that farming does. There are all these little balancing acts that need to be explored and mastered in life, and I feel as though having decided to dedicate my life to the two things that I am most passionate about -- farming and writing -- means that I am having to re-negotiate all the little pieces of my life so that they balance each other out, and fit together coherently. I am making progress, but I am also learning that building my own career is not an overnight affair. Every day I take small steps towards my goal, but I do sometimes get frustrated and contemplate giving up and finding a 9-5 job that would have immediate results (a.k.a. a sustainable salary). The reason I do not do it is because I know I would not last more than a month in such a job. I do not do well at things that my heart is not in 100 percent. I know I have a lot to contribute to the world as a writer, but I have to be courageous (and, it would seem, rather poor, at least to begin with) if I really want to pursue my dreams.

This has been a year of tests and questions, and detachment, and every day I learn new things and meet new people who teach me a new way of seeing the world that I would never have imagined had I not taken the wild journey I have over the last year. I do not feel settled, but I have noticed over the last week that I have started feeling content and happy with where I am at in my heart. I am working on loving the questions themselves. And taking frequent barefoot dancing breaks to tunes like the one at the beginning of this post, which makes me grin from ear to ear.