Saturday, August 25, 2012

I call him Rumi.


Did you know that I have my own personal Rumi? Because of him, I have had a major breakthrough.  And yes, it has felt more like a breakdown at times.  Where do I start? Like Marty last week, I’m reluctant to put this into words, lest some of it gets lost in the vernacular. Yet at the same time, for me it has been so profound that I know it is to be shared. I’m quite sure I am not alone in this.

A few months ago, I offered a friend of mine a place to stay while he sorted out his personal life. We have known each other for almost five years and have grown quite close on almost every level (read – no snogging) and we enjoy each other’s company immensely.  He is highly intelligent, creative, entertaining, a good cook, very kind, easy on the eyes, passionate about music, and comes with a surprisingly similar set of issues as mine.  We have always been drawn to each other in a magnetic way and that’s how I recognize that our relationship is karmic.  It’s perfect.  We make each other cry, we call each other on our shit, we listen well to each other, we hold space for each other while we process pieces, and we are constantly teasing out the truth behind the truth behind the truth.  In short, we don’t let each other get away with a thing.  And we are both evolving rapidly at the moment.  A spiritual fast track if you will.

“Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.”
Rumi

So what was he to show me?  He was out late one night and I had grown quite used to his being around.  Out of the blue came this desperate feeling of abandonment.  I couldn’t sleep.  I had this horrible sense of desertion that was so disproportionate to reality.  The next morning he could see that I was still upset and was quick to sit down and help me find out what it was all about.  What we realized was that he had inadvertently ignited that deep gut-wrenching feeling when you lose someone you love (e.g. my son Duncan).  It was a revelation that helped me get to our karmic core.

Over the next few days, I sat with this feeling and was able to come to a greater understanding of a past life that we shared.  This is where it gets difficult to put into words… and I do take a couple of quantum leaps here, so bear with me…

We clearly had met in a past life.  We were in a relationship where he couldn’t commit completely to me.  As a result, I carried a belief that no one would ever commit to being in a relationship with me. I wasn’t worth it.  Not good enough.  Blah, blah, blah. I continued to search relentlessly for what I had come to believe was impossible… someone to love me, truly, madly, deeply.

At the same time, I thought that if I ever committed to being in a relationship with someone, that meant I was losing out on the possibility of other love that might be better than what was in front of me.  A sort of quantity vs. quality kind of quest.  I saw commitment as being limiting vs. its being an opportunity to nourish something beautiful. 

“A thousand half-loves must be forsaken to take one whole heart home.”
Words of Paradise: Selected Poems of Rumi

Next came this.  What if I made a commitment to myself?  Mmm.  Now there was a thought.  And not just pay lip-service to self acceptance, but actually fuel a far deeper relationship with myself than I had ever considered attainable before.  At this point I was with reach of a huge piece… I could feel it…

If I could do that, I would not have to suffer loss of love because love would always be there. 

When that realization hit me, and then percolated throughout my body, I had a frisson of excitement. It has been a huge shift in my inner world that has helped to heal some pretty significant pieces.

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
Rumi

Branded by karma,

Buns xo

P.S.  Just in case you’re reading this Rumi, I’ll be out late tonight.  It’s Marty’s birthday and we’re doing it up right tonight!



Saturday, August 18, 2012

Heart Whispering

We are so lucky. I am standing at the edge of the forest listening to the trees talking. They don’t speak the same language at home in British Columbia. Here in Northern Ontario when the breeze blows the trees sway and whisper secrets that stir my soul. My senses are so alive of late. I wonder how I never noticed this magical communication so vividly before.

The lake is still, unbroken glass calling me to break its surface with surrender into calm. Is there any companion greater than nature when one’s heart is cracked wide open?

When I was 18 I met a boy and our story was never completed.  He was a romantic memory, one that resurrected in a recent conversation and prompted a Google search to see if I could locate him. Easy enough and after a few playful messages to see if he could guess who the voice from the past was, we connected this week in Toronto. I seem to hesitate in sharing the story with you all perhaps because I fear losing its importance by making it mundane with words. But I shall try.

I was breaking up with a boyfriend of 2 years. It was the 1970’s and we were homesteading in Prince Edward Island, living in a cabin with a grass floor covered with a Persian rug. Two goats inhabited a hut made of straw by the organic garden; it was a hippie wannabe’s delight. But the relationship was over and I was parked in a car on the dirt road in rural PEI bracing myself for the inevitable tears. The boy behind the wheel was named Paul and this story is about our connection and fate and the oddness of ships passing in the night.

I ended one relationship and moved into my future... back into the car where Paul waited patiently. My tears were of the sobbing variety, breaking up is hard to do, even if you know it’s the right thing. Paul did not say a word. He placed his hand on mine and drove straight to the beach. He opened my car door and taking my hand pulled me onto the white expanse of sand, and straight into the blue Atlantic water. As waves crashed over our heads, he kissed me.
And here is why this has remained one of the most romantic moments of my life.

He did not take his wallet out of his pocket.

He did not take off his watch.

 The message I received was, there is nothing more important than this moment.
 There is nothing as important as you.

We spent the night on the beach sleeping on the Persian rug with a bottle of Rothschild red that has never been surpassed in its velvet smoothness and juicy silk glow. Many years passed as our story later continued in Toronto, always in the middle of evolving, never finished, never truly begun.

Cut to 2012.

Thirty years have passed and he was picking me up at noon for lunch. He hadn’t changed. My body remembered the intimacy, the scent, his voice, his Irish humor, the white of his shirt against tanned skin. I am a sucker for men in white linen.  All I will say is I was more myself in his presence that I have been with anyone for a long while. I was transparent and offered information that I had previously withheld because I was protecting my vulnerability and wanting to appear cool.  I was happy to be so alive and engaged and present in myself and also to realize that the risk I was taking in being fully seen called for no response from him. I was me because I am me and a cover of defense and bravado was no longer an option.

My spirit knows his soul. He is in the midst of awakening to himself and being true to his principles. I am glad.  I am sad. But it’s a luscious kind of sad for what could have been or perhaps for what might be. I don’t know and living in the unknown is where I am most fully alive. I don’t know what this meeting is for at this time. Not really. I can play with figuring it out. Why now, what is the purpose of this intense contact at this precise moment in our evolution?  As he said, if we had met even 10 months ago he would not have understood the depth of our interaction nor even understood  the spiritual component of our conversation. Yet as we laughed and as we cried I opened and both received and radiated love that was beyond content, beyond the story, beyond outcome.

 As Kahil Gibran said “Beauty is not in the face: beauty is a light in the heart. "

And tears shine as brightly as smiles.

I am so lucky as I breathe in the whispering birch, so full….letting  my senses mark me and spin me on the tightrope of risk.

Branded by love.

Authentically Yours,

Marty

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

By the time I get to Phoenix.


First thing tomorrow morning, I’m heading to Arizona with a great group of friends. My BFFs Jolanta, and Marty (of course!) will be part of this not-so-motley crew.  Adventure beckons – one of personal exploration and growth. 

For me, this is a time of letting go of beliefs that don’t serve me any more, and being open to new ideas around what success really means to me.

One of my favourite poems has fuelled me for many years…

To laugh often and much;

To win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children;

To earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;

To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child,
a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;

To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.

This is to have succeeded.*

And I truly live by this as fully as I can.  In spades. But I know there is more to it.  What is it that I would walk over hot coals to accomplish? What keeps me going?  What makes me aim higher?  What is it that will make me break through those subtle barriers of disbelief – those mental speed bumps? I want to know.  That is why I am going to Phoenix. I’m going to find my “why”. 

I will be surrounded by like-minded people, all of whom are going to be inspired by Jack Canfield and other motivational speakers.  It is the 10-year anniversary of Isagenix, a company for which I have great respect.  A celebration is called for and I am really excited to be a part of it.  My plan is to grow my nutritional business far beyond what I believed to be possible when I first began, and this gathering will help me forge ahead.

What of Presence, you ask? Well, it is still a lovely little oasis festooned with jewels, clothing, and funky accessories, and it is a creation of mine that makes me smile.  I hope it’s there for a long time. There’s a lot of joy and laughter that flows in and out of the place, and yet that’s not a currency that covers all my bills.  I want to continue growing Presence in Horseshoe Bay and have a thriving secondary income… also stemming from helping people feel great about themselves, getting healthier, and aging with grace and beauty.  Enter Isagenix. I know I’m on to a good thing here.

I had to stop writing for a bit here to start getting ready... fast forward to this morning...

I’ve just arrived at Jolanta’s place and we’re getting ready to hit the road.  Picking up Marty on the way, driving to Bellingham, doing a little shopping if we have some time, then on to Phoenix.

Contrary to current thinking, what happens in Phoenix is NOT staying in Phoenix.  Stay tuned!

Branded by enthusiasm,

Buns xo


*This has often been attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson, although some believe that it was written by Bessie Stanley in 1905, albeit with slightly different wording.