Still got the blues for you. Part 2.

Five years ago this week, my two sons, their Dad, and I were organizing our first band rehearsal.  With much excitement, we converged on the house that the boys had built together with Al. I remember, with crystal-clear acuity, watching the two of them drive their jeeps up the steep driveway, and I thought about how proud I was of both of them... they had good jobs, were happy and we all were in the throes of creating something new and joyful together.  We played many songs that night – Duncan inspiring us to new musical heights with his beautiful guitar solos, and Sean knocking us off our feet with a voice that we hadn’t realized was so powerful and perfectly pitched. We played Gary Moore’s “Still got the blues for you”, and as I left to go home, I turned to him and said, “I love you, Dunc.” It was the last time I saw his precious face.

I am very grateful.  That those were my last words. That we spent our last hours together doing something we all enjoyed immensely.  That we spent it as a family even though we were not together any more. That the first face he saw when he was born was mine, full of love. And our last glance was one of deep love as well.

As the five-year mark of his passing looms, I am having more than usual moments of indescribable longing to see his handsome, smiling face, to hear him speak to me again, and to have him give me one of his trademark bear hugs.  God I miss that kid.  And yet he is with me all the time.  And most days, I feel his radiance and I know others do too.

I don’t know whether he has anything to do with this, but it seems when I need him the most, someone who needs me more shows up. A mere acquaintance that I hadn’t talked to in a long time happened to run into me and she was obviously upset.  When I asked her what was going on, she said it was exactly a year ago that she had to make a decision to take her young son off life support.  It was her first anniversary and I know, deep in my bones, that we were supposed to talk. While she believes I helped her with her process, she was just as instrumental in helping me regain my perspective in that moment.  The same thing happened with a 22-year-old who just lost his Mom.  He was in complete shock and reached out to me for consolation. I hope he knows that I was just as consoled as he was (if not more).

Yes, these are sad stories but at the same time I’m inspired by the human spirit that we all have within us that chooses to grow from these experiences. This is my life.  It’s because of, not in spite of these events that I am opting to squeeze every last bit of juice from the fruits.  Not always easy, to be sure, but there is sweetness if you have a thirst for it.

I will probably go to Whistler on the weekend and have a sit on his bench again.  I am hoping for good weather so we can light a little bonfire in his honour at the beach where he grew up. I am looking ahead to a year of new learnings, more sweetness, and a renewed zest for what already is a wonderful life.

Branded by indomitableness,

Authentically yours,

Buns

P.S.  I just realized that I wrote a similar piece a couple of years ago and included Gary Moore's song for you to hear.  I decided to change it up a bit ...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E2VCwBzGdPM

The Auditory Effect

Flying to Phoenix via San Francisco we missed our connecting flight. You know that choice point we are often faced with... get verklempt, contracted and upset or open to the possibilities in a new albeit unforeseen event trusting the universe has another adventure in store for us.

Well come on, it's Buns and Marty. You know what we chose.

We linked arms with a fellow traveller named Guy and as he maneuvered our entry into the first class lounge we made the moment of connection more important than stressing about the future. Here is the thing about aligning with expansive choices, they ripple out and generate more of themselves.

Three hours sped by as we enjoyed ourselves, setting our kids up for romance and planning their fantasy wedding. My son and Guy's  daughter sounded like a perfect match and as selfish yentas, we figured it would be fun to be in-laws.

Yes, it's all about us!
So there we were, bubbling in a soup of transparent sharing, feeling great and revelling in mutual discovery. Fun!

My initial connection with Guy was sparked by a recognition of being kindred spirits around our perspective on the service industry. My parents were in the restaurant business and I was raised with a 'customer is always right' attitude.  I received complaints and no matter how unfair or unmerited would proceed to make things better, with a smile.

So now when I am paying for a service and it is not up to par, I speak up. If I am met with attitude, defense, or lack of response I up the ante and ask to speak to a supervisor. Guy understood this and shared the same sentiment. Not everyone does and some people get downright uncomfortable when faced with this kind of assertiveness.

Yet when Buns shared that she too at times felt uncomfortable I decided to challenge myself with a little experiment. I call it The Auditory Effect. I decided that I would still speak up when service was not quite right but with a conscious commitment to a tone of sweetness and wrapped in a softer, friendlier package.

I had lots of opportunities to practice over the following days... no washcloths in the bathroom, no shower caps, poor lighting in the makeup mirror and runny egg whites with room service. Lots of reasons to complain and yet I stayed true to the concept of  having fun with this.  I would still say what I normally would but now it was sandwiched with a "hi, how are you doing" and some silliness and good humor.

I really got to experience people more clearly this way, validate them and let them know that I believed in their ability to make things right. I oozed gratitude and laughed often. So did Buns and soon we would both be in stitches as I played with my new tonal Pollyanna. And... I got everything I wanted and more. People went out of their way to accommodate and those that started cranky got turned around and became far more pleasant.

This one is a keeper.  I am going to take this auditory effect to mastery and soon my new habit  will become my new normal. I am not being fake either. I am finding the sugar in my essence and deciding to lead with it. It's like chocolate, almost everyone responds well to it.

How sweet it is being sweet in Phoenix!

Branded by evolution,

Authentically Yours,
Marty

Meltdowns and miracles.

The lead up to this latest potential end of the world, and then Christmas (if we were still here) was like the Warrior Dash obstacle course ... short, sharp, and hardcore. Talk about being given messages to STOP what I was doing!  I needed to take note and make decisions moving forward that were absolutely in alignment with who I am – not who I want people to think I am.

Everything happened at once – an unexpected tax bill for our construction company (big one), a disappointing season in my retail world, tenants moving out of my condo, Dad still in the hospital, a friend’s mother dying suddenly (younger than me), and no exciting dates – all in all, the ingredients for a top-of-the-line, Grade A meltdown.  And the constant undercurrent of another Christmas looming without Dunc and his antics would creep up on me at the most inopportune moments. Frankly I was a mess.  And of course it all culminated on the 21st of December – normally my favourite day of the year as things get brighter from that point on (although in my throes of despair I failed to see the correlation).

So I called my Mom.  My history is rife with at least one epic breakdown before Christmas each year so I’m sure she was expecting my call.  She is good.  She was able to talk me down out of my panic attack, put one of my amazing sisters on the line, and I was able to gain a toehold on the concept that I would be fine.  364 days of the year, this is easy for me to believe.  Not this day.

So enough about me.  Time for the miracle stories. I was at work and in walked this very handsome man with whom I’m barely acquainted (and on whom I have a small crush). I hadn’t seen him for about 8 months.  He presented me with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers and said he had been thinking about me and how I must be feeling about Duncan and thought I’d appreciate them. 

Next, I was performing at Cypress Mountain, and right in the middle of singing “Santa baby, hurry down the chimney tonight”, a huge avalanche of snow off the roof came crashing down outside the window behind us.  Yes, Santa had arrived. 

Later that day we continued to our neighbourhood pub and put on an impromptu carol-singing session which got the crowd into a festive mood.  One of the guys listening had tears in his eyes (I knew the look) and so I asked him what was going on.  He said he had lost his Dad two years ago on Christmas Day and that he still had a hard time with it.  It told him about Duncan and somehow, helping him realize that his Dad is always around, helped me feel better.  The next day, he arrived with a huge bouquet of flowers to thank me for my openness and tenderness.  I didn’t even know his last name.

Then came Christmas Eve with Sean and his girlfriend.  As soon as I arrived, the first words out of his mouth were, “Mom, sit down.  Put your feet up. You don’t have to do a thing. ”  I’m sure he has no idea how sweet that was to my ears.  I sank into that couch and enjoyed the evening and Christmas morning with them thoroughly.

The day after Christmas, my wasband (rhymes with husband) gave me a gift that he and his wife had made.  It is so perfectly me that I burst into tears at the thought that he still knew me so well.  It was very touching. 

Today, my friend Denise who works for me at Presence, thanked me for encouraging her to look at Christmas in a completely new way and open her heart to enjoying it.  She said it was the first time in 55 years that she really did have a good Christmas and was grateful for my inspiration.

Oh, and my condo?  It’s been advertised in every nook and cranny for a month and not one bite.  I went to a Boxing Day party, ran into an old friend who said, “Your condo in Squamish isn’t by any chance available is it?” I’m showing it to his son on January 1st. 

It’s two days until 2013.  Marty and I will be spending our third New Year’s Eve together.  Full of ritual and delight, we plan to usher in a year of riches, success on all fronts, and a lot of laughs.  I can’t wait.

Branded by miracles,

Buns.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-5oGnvfUEU

Ahhhhh........

Ahhh…is there any pleasure greater than breakfast in bed, in an out of town local with no expectation other than enjoyment. Snuggled in a crisp white duvet in the sunken bedroom, rich steamy coffee in hand, a fire dances next to the fresh pine vistas as  I try to decide between an invigorating hike up to Lost Lake or a soak in the massive Jacuzzi tub that sits a few steps up, smack dab in the middle of this space. I am a lucky girl today. It’s the Whistler Film Festival and we have blind picked a couple of films that sound promising. Tomorrow it’s brunch at Chateau Whistler and a full day soaking in the outdoor pools at the Scandinavian Spa.

 La la la la la….yes that’s me singing and doing a mental happy dance. Still not leaving this smooshy warm cocoon.

I had a random thought earlier. In my desire for authentic closeness I wondered if I get overly attached to the evaluation of what is real and what is not. If perception is simply a coating on the lens of the glasses we look at the world through, am I peering at those in front of me with critical eyes, eyes attached to outcome, eyes that have some sort of agenda? Do you know what I mean?

There is an exercise that illustrates this beautifully. Two people gaze into each other eyes and DECIDE what perception they will write on a pair of metaphorical glasses. Breathing deeply, you might start with seeing through the lens of thoughts like, this person loves me, this person is my friend, this person has my back and wants nothing but the best for me. You would notice your body’s response to those statements. Then taking off that pair of glasses you would put on another pair.

 This pair offers a perception based on negative thoughts like, this person does not like me, this person judges me, this person wants me to fail.  And again you would notice how your body responds. The difference is extreme. Now you have a quick and intense example of how the thoughts we run impact our physiological and emotional experience of the world and the people in it. What I love about this is it means I can choose ANY perception I want to govern my experience. I have the ability to be emotionally free based on what I am thinking.

So my random musings percolated into my consciousness as I wondered about what is written on my glasses when I have thoughts like, this person is not being authentic with me, this person is asleep, I can’t listen to another drop of the superficial drivel coming out of their mouth.

Oh I am so politically incorrect but honestly I sometimes feel like screaming “Stop, time is too precious, let’s get deep and real with each other, vulnerable and even messy but fully, utterly and completely alive!” And that’s when I wonder mmmm…. maybe I could just let go and love what is in front of me. Maybe I could chill and choose to perceive goodness or at the very least get curious and go with it. I could open my heart, breath and soften. Really what is real anyway but the love that is always available to be expressed…or not.

Ok. That’s my mantra for the day. On my glasses today with each person I meet, I will look through the eyes of, this person is unique, this person has a story, this person is the same as me. And I will breathe deeply as I do it.

Sigh. All is well. Oh and please universe, I know I am a dreamer, but a cold snap so we can play in the snow today would be bliss.

Branded by ease

Authentically Yours,

Marty

PS: Guess what…it happened…SNOW!! Yippee!

 

Druthers. I’ve got ’em.

For as long as I can remember, December 21st has been my favourite day of the year.  For me it symbolizes a new beginning. The days start to become longer, and I am filled with that phew-I-made-it feeling.  Even from a Mayan calendar point of view, I am looking forward to it.  Perhaps it will be the end of the world as we know it.  I, for one, believe it’s time.  Time to divest myself of all the things that don’t serve me well in a spiritual, physical, mental, and emotional sense.  Vamoose.  Be gone.

And I’m getting the sense that the universe is conspiring to help me make some hard choices about what to keep and what to let go.  In the past couple of months, I have experienced challenges that threatened to do me in, especially in my financial realm. From parking tickets to an unexpected tax bill to an empty condo (translation – no rental income), things are tight.  And yet for some reason, I am calm as I cast my gaze to include a wider horizon of possibilities.  I’m just starting to see that this is really an opportunity to take stock, and decide what can be discounted, written off, or forgiven. And I’m not just talking about merchandise.

What relationships, possessions, beliefs, grudges, or worries can I release? What really matters?  This is the time to declutter.  And I’m up for it.  I’m ready for a change.

I used to say if I had my druthers¹, I’d do certain things.  I’d sing for my supper.  I’d help others help themselves. I’d help build houses on a Caribbean island. I’d take my master gardener’s course. I’d go and visit my parents back East any time I wanted to. I’d earn an honest living without needing to have bricks and mortar as the veneer of successful entrepreneurship. My focus would be to use my talents well in the service of others.  A close friend of mine sent this to me the other day saying that he thought of me when he read it...

I slept and dreamed that life was joy.

I awoke and saw that life was service.

I acted and behold, service was joy.

Ravindranath Tagore

This is my druthers.

Branded by joy,

Buns xo

As I write this, my dad is in the hospital and there is the possibility that I may not see him again.  The last time I was with him, we had a wonderful visit and I was able to tell him how much I loved him and how he had so eloquently (yet silently) shown his support for me when my son passed away. I have been able to make a clean decision not to go back to see him before Christmas.  If that is to be last time I get to see him, it is a beautiful memory. I love you Dad... 

¹druth·ers: noun plural \ˈdrə-thərz\[Alteration of the phrase 'd rather, from would rather.]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0GFRcFm-aY

Never Stop!

                                       

“Nothing was going to stop me, not even myself.” says young Oskar Schell, as he embarks on a hero’s quest to keep his father’s memory alive. This line is from the movie Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, adapted from a novel by Jonathan Safran Foers. It stars Tom Hanks and Sandra Bullock, and my experience of it was so powerful I wanted to share the impact.

Oskar is a lonely eleven year old reeling from the death of his father at the World Trade Center in 9/11. When he wanders into his father’s closet a year after his death yearning to inhale even a scent of the bond he had with his dad, he inadvertently breaks a vase and discovers inside a tiny envelope with a key.  The envelope is marked ‘Black’ and knowing his dad’s love of games and puzzles Oskar is now committed to find the Black to whom the key belongs. There are 472 people named Black in New York’s five boroughs and his every waking moment is spent charting the course of this adventure.  

Wearing his heart on his sleeve he begins to meet and connect with the Blacks in the world of New York. His belief that if he can find what the key fits he will be able to keep his dad alive inside himself just a little while longer, propels him to such tender open exposure with these strangers that his invitation to vulnerability is met with authentic connection. Somewhere, one of these Blacks holds the key to his heart. They hold a hope that he can forget what he calls, 'the worst day', the day his world…our world…was shaken and seared with pain. 

While alive his dad’s message was ‘never stop looking’ and taking this to heart the odyssey unfolds. This journey is not an easy one for Oskar. Shaking with anxiety he bangs his tambourine to calm himself and just keeps walking into his fears muttering “I’m free, I’m free,” a mantra of solace in a world filled with shadows.

He forces himself to overcome all obstacles, his fear of subways, walking across bridges, and most of all a fear of people. “Every day is a miracle,” writes his mysterious grandfather who doesn’t speak, instead using the words yes and no tattooed on the palms of his hands to aid communication.  “I don’t believe in miracles” says Oskar. And yet as, he touches lives, he touches souls and his crusade holds a miracle in every step.

Whenever Oskar is feeling depressed and forlorn he says that he is wearing, “heavy boots”.  He knows the likelihood of finding what the key fits is slim and yet he will not give up. Profoundly touching, this film marks you and leaves an imprint.

Who among us does not at times feel like we are wearing heavy boots? Who has not felt loss and faced that sense of an abyss at the crossroads of choosing between love and fear? This little boy is at that crossroad daily, moment by moment (as are we all) and I view his journey as an inspiration for us to rise above personal limitation and step into shoes of a hero even if we may not fully believe they will fit.

We have all had a day we call, the worst day and perhaps more still to come. We also have a gift for choosing and the power to act as love would. The light that shines in Oskar’s soul is like a star that herald’s new birth.  And just as he is called to follow blind faith in order to let this light guide him, so too are we. This light is unwavering and while at times may seem dim it is a beacon that is always there…waiting for us to notice…to remember.  We are always being called… sometimes we are not listening.  In the call to love, to keep love alive at all costs, and to refuse to let it ever be extinguished no matter what the circumstances …well that is life’s odyssey.  The Oskar’s of the world are our muse.

Nothing is going to stop me, not even myself.  I yearn to take these words to heart this season and be guided by something bigger than personal struggle. My prayer is to lead with my heart and live by the words of my favorite Christmas carol, ‘let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.’

If you want to be moved and stirred to gratitude, opened to the power of love and possibility, read the book…download the movie.

Santa’s orders.

Branded by faith,

Authentically Yours,

Marty

 

 

See (and sing) with your heart!

What a week!  I’ve been hovering on the brink of a full-on sore throat, sneezing, runny nose, and hoping that it will abate in time for a gig tonight.  (The jury is still out – it’s possible my new sound is husky and sexy...  we’ll see.) I haven’t felt 100% to put it mildly and there are a lot of other things going on that have challenged my sense of humour recently.

A good friend of mine reminded me of the theory of relativity... you can always find someone worse off. And while I’m not one to ever throw a pity party, it does help to reflect on how grateful and fortunate I am no matter how crappy I feel.

Take my evening between 4 p.m. and 5:30 last night – I had just finished a marathon session with my mentor that often involves delving into the deep dark recesses of my life, including relationships, finances, and how I am in the world vis-a-vis who I am (if that makes sense). It was incredibly fruitful.  I came out of her place buoyed with a renewed confidence that I am doing well and that no matter how bad things look on the surface, I am sturdy and I am loved.  And I do know that.  I just need reminding sometimes.

So just as I am on the mend financially, I come outside to find my car had been towed.  Yes.  I dropped the f-bomb. Hailed a cab, and immediately got stuck in Friday afternoon rush-hour traffic, which was even more chock-a-block than usual as there was a power failure and the traffic lights weren’t working. Then the old oh-shit-this-isn’t-looking-good feeling kicked in.  The meter was ticking away and we were going nowhere. And to top it all off, the driver had decided it was alluring and seductive to douse himself with at least a litre of after-shave lotion that might have been appropriate if he were trying to camouflage being sprayed by a skunk.  I was gagging. Fortunately he said he accepted Master Card.  We arrived at the towing compound.  I handed him my card and lo and behold, he couldn’t process it because of the power failure.  As I didn’t have any cash on me, he offered to take me to the nearest ATM.  Off we go, back out into the crawling traffic.  He dumps me off at a gas station.  Their ATM has run out of money.  I get back in the car and suggest he find another ATM.  Back out into the sea of cars, and all of a sudden, this crazed woman jumps in front of the cab, starts banging on the hood, and demands that she gets in with me.  She is hysterically sobbing, and I begin to understand that her friend has just died in the hospital and she needed to get there. The cabbie auto-locked the door (English was not one of his strong points).  I think he thought she might have been just some wild and dangerous Friday-night nut on the loose.  I told him to open the door and let her in.  We spent the next ten minutes speeding as best we could to the hospital, while I did my best to get her to talk about her friend in a way that was helpful to her.  She did calm down and was very grateful for our giving her a hand.

By this time I felt like the cabbie and I were a team.  For some reason, I couldn’t even smell his cologne any more.  He was a very kind person and (after finally finding an ATM that bore fruit), he dropped me off and we parted as though we had known each other forever. We wished each other well.  I was starting to feel better and I hadn’t even faced the music of a towing charge and parking ticket.  I walked up to the wicket, where I was greeted by this radiant young man’s face who was so empathetic (not a quality you expect from a fine collector), that I was completely disarmed. Whoever hired him for the job, knew what he or she was doing.  He could tell I had had a harrowing day and his final words to me were, “Whatever you do, or whatever happens, don’t ever lose that smile.”  I hadn't even given him so much as a grin, but that made me beam.  He said, “See what I mean?  That’s what I’m talking about.” How the hell did he know about my smile?

Aah.  What a day.  I am so incredibly blessed.  I was able to help someone. Someone acknowledged that inner me that is always smiling.  I experienced being who I am in the middle of turmoil and angst.

No pity party tonight.  I’m going to sing.  Doesn’t matter what it sounds like.  It’s where it comes from that counts.

Branded by the sniffles and a grin,

Love Buns xo