Capital “T” Truth

I can’t believe where my brain can take me if I just let it take over and do the driving.  Here I am, at the height of excitement about having manifested a self-contained little cottage (within walking distance of work), tenants for my condo (against all odds), and some interesting diversities that my store can incorporate to help out during the shoulder seasons.  In short, life is grand and the future looks rosy.

So now, down to business. I fire off an email to my future tenants, asking them if they would like me to leave them some dishes and other paraphernalia – they are a young couple just starting out and I have lots of extras.  I don’t hear from them for five days.  I have already started moving my stuff to my cottage.  I have committed to a lease.  My brain suddenly jumps into the driver’s seat and starts heading down the road of “they haven’t called back because they’ve decided not to rent your condo and they are afraid to tell you”.  I, now firmly established as a mere passenger, allow this to be the direction of my thoughts. There were a few moments where I recognized that these were exactly that – just thoughts, and that I really didn’t know what was going on in their world.  But for the most part, I was allowing this to be the destination.

And then I snapped out of it.  What I came to was this.  There was possibly some truth in this.  It could actually be that these two had come up against some insurmountable obstacle and had changed their minds about moving.  But rather than arguing with this possible reality, I began to sit with “so if it were true, what would I do?” And this was interesting.  It turned my worst fear into an opportunity to be creative about my next steps.  It became less fearful.  I made friends with the worst-case scenario. And all throughout this process, this little voice kept saying, “yes, this is what you need to do – and if you do it right, it will all work out”.  But I also knew in my heart of hearts, that this wasn’t quite it either.  Was the point of all this to manipulate the unknown in my thoughts so that I could make it turn out in my favour? 

No.  Not quite.  What I came to realize was that the point was to go through this process genuinely and actually be okay with whatever happened.  Not to do this so it would work out according to what I wanted.  But to surrender, submit, (and yes, both those words have charge for me), and lean into the comfort, strength, and absolute reliability of capital “T” truth.  This may sound like small potatoes to you, but for me, it was incredibly liberating.

Now I’m like a kid with a new toy.  I am finding all sorts of ways to play with this.  I have such gratitude for my teachers who have been sharing this with me for over ten years.  I know.  I know.  It takes a while to sink in.  Thank you. 

Oh, and by the way, my tenants emailed me at 2 o’clock this morning apologizing for not being in touch.  They had had an incredibly busy week, but were looking forward with great excitement to moving in to my place.  And I’m okay with that too.

Authentically yours,

Buns

THE SKY'S SHEET

                    
        When He touches me I clutch the sky’s sheets
                                the way other
                                     lovers
                                        do
                           the earth’s weave
                                     of clay
                       Any real ecstasy is a sign
                            you are moving
                                                                            in the right
                                                                            direction,
                                                                 don’t let any prude tell
                                                                         you otherwise.
                                                                                                                           St Teresa of Avila

There are many mystics both from the east and west who have invited a sensual relationship with divinity. They make no apologies about using the word God.  For me it’s a struggle, having been raised catholic and witnessing so much hypocrisy around organized religion. So while I shy away from the word, I am drawn to the experience. My soul demands it and will not stop sighing until I have opened as fully as possible to translating the knowing of the divine, of love, into the physical.

My soul is non dogmatic by design…and practical by nature. I want to co-create this experience with another mortal that invites touch to render all obstacles, all closures and body contractions, mere illusion.  My divine co-conspirator will help me when I quicken with fear and I too will penetrate with certainty where he is wavering. There may always be areas of  fear in our perfectly flawed  humanity yet the nakedness of the heart will prevail.

 And isn’t it strange how very similar fear and excitement can feel in the body. The shift from one to the other is a mere thought away, a mere shift in perception.

Now imagine if you will, the reaction of revealing this desire over a chilled Martini on a first date, serious attention having been paid to the mammoth olives that glisten in oily shimmers of gin. The sunny patio radiates that particular west coast glow that makes us forget it ever rains.

The response will vary, from furrowed brow to raised forehead, to a blank stare of incomprehension, never fully reaching a total eye roll, the restraints of polite convention obviously still exuding their grip, we are Canadian after all.

In the past I would have considered toning this yearning down a bit, at least in presentation. I would have talked myself into holding back explaining to myself how with time and growing trust the proposal of ecstatic union might not seem so strange, so out of the box. Yet, knowing this intense heart state can be generated internally whenever I speak freely I am left softly unattached to the response I get. I have had to learn to cultivate this non attachment when speaking of something so profoundly relevant to my soul.
The choice is always mine to open or close, to act as love or act as fear. And that choice will ultimately define whether I am able to embrace the sky with abandon.
Besides, step one in the move toward ecstasy has to be congruence. Whatever is inside matches what is outside.

And oh, when two people are able to be so transparent, in spite of fears, well joyful freedom is only a sentence away.

 Many in the new age movement talk about connection but not so many are willing to start with themselves and radical self reflective honesty. And if you don’t start there then the energy gets tied up determining what to say or do show or tell instead of determining what IS and stating that.   How else can one move to this opening to ecstasy if we are still wearing masks or concerned about reaction and strategically holding back information.

 You don’t make love with your clothes on. You don’t achieve depth and true divine intimacy without getting emotionally naked! 
And yes, sometimes facing one’s fear is an inherent part of that process.
How has it happened that this is now my bliss? I have known for some time that when I accept and reveal myself in the present moment I  connect with my essence, my arrow is pointed straight for home. Yet my yearning to be met here actually got in my way and complicated the simplicity and surety that I already connected with myself this way, I am just having a lapse of consciousness.
 Too esoteric? Quite simply, my ability to accept and reveal all of myself in the present moment is in direct correlation to my experience of the divine.
It’s a simple concrete step, right? Stop hiding and flow with what is and you then feel the union that is present in every moment.
 My soul’s desire need not be guarded or delivered on some preordained schedule of dating etiquette. If it is too frightening to contemplate for some men, then off they go. I only want one in the end, one man who deeply understands and holds this sacredness of being with as much reverence as I do.
I am breathing deeply and letting the ecstasy indicate that I am on the right track. And ecstasy comes in many flavors and colors. While laughing, raucous passion is at the top of my list it also includes the silver silence of falling snow, the weight of dessert air drawing you into the most private parts of yourself, the surf with its constant sigh transforming tension into flow.

Or as my favorite mystic/poet Hafiz has said:

                       ONLY PUCKER AT CERTAIN MOMENTS?
                    Does God only pucker at certain moments
                                               of one’s life?
                                               No way!
                                     He is the wildest of us
                                                lovers.


Look, I even invited the word God, as an attempt to move beyond the shelter of linguistic discrimination.
So I will continue to pucker up to life, even in the moments that challenge. They too deserve a kiss in the knowing that they are all designed with a secret code to help me unfold.


Authentically Yours
Marty

Someone is watching over me ...

It’s Labour Day Monday, and I am experiencing mixed feelings today. I am nostalgic for the days when I would get the boys ready for school, see the excitement in their eyes for the start of a new year, and at the same time be amazed that the summer was over.  I have the flu and when I am compromised physically, I find it more challenging to weather the emotional storm that comes up.  I realize with a sharp stab in my heart that I will never help Duncan get ready for anything again. Having said that, there are lots of things that Sean and I will do together through the different stages in his young life.  And I treasure my moments with him (probably way more than he realizes!).

 Still, it could be a bit of a rough ride today. 

But then again, that’s simply a choice I make.  

If I look at what has transpired in the last two weeks, then I have to give my head a shake.  To wit, I got an email from someone whom I have only met once.  She came into the store last spring while visiting from Halifax.  She had come to Vancouver to take a weekend course.  She had a day to explore before she began, and had rented a car to get to her chosen points of interest.  She found herself browsing in the store and we struck up a conversation.  We clicked immediately and went on to talk about the wonders of synchronicity and being in the flow, and all those expansive topics of conversation that I am always happy to pursue. We decided to have dinner together that night, and the conversation continued.  It was mostly and Q&A session where she wanted to find out as much as she could about my spiritual practice.  (A month later, she was to send me a very precise recap of what I had talked about and her ability to synthesize the information was formidable.)  Well just last week, she, out of the blue, offered a sizable loan to me should I need it, interest free, and I could take as long as I needed to repay her.  I was stunned.  And grateful.  It was absolutely a clean give-and-receive situation.

And then, there’s my living situation. I love my home – I just wish it was closer to my business.  The other day, a former landlord told me that my favourite cottage in Horseshoe Bay was up for rent and he wanted me to consider taking it.   At first blush, it seemed an impossibility but I told him I would try to rent out my condo.  I needed to let him know in four days.  Right away, I was on the phone to several property managers, all of whom told me that it would take 60 to 90 days to place tenants.  I had this feeling though that it was truly meant to be and I had already begun to imagine how my furniture would look in my new cottage.  (It even has a pane-glass door leading out to a large deck from my bedroom – something that I have always seen in my dreams!)  So I went the craigslist route and rented my place out in one day. Of course I did.

(As an aside, I also had a reading from Natasha Rosewood who knew nothing of this but told me I would be moving in three weeks!)

So really, what have I got to complain about?  Absolutely nothing.  I believe that Duncan has been helping me get ready for my next chapter.  And I thank him.  xoxoxo

Authentically yours,

Buns

P.S.  I am also missing talking to The Robert.  It was a year ago this weekend that we reconnected.  If you are reading this my friend, know that I wish you a Happy Birthday filled with love.

Beauty in the Drum

Woke up with the Beatles singing in my head, with only a fraction of the lyrics but on a permanent spin cycle of repetition. Yay say it’s your birthday…dah…dah…dah…dah…dah…dah…dah…dah…well its my birthday too yah…..birthday…take a ch ch ch chance….birthday…
Have I given it to you too now?


My untested belief is that if I can make someone else sing it, it will leave my brain alone. 
I have tried to get numerous people to launch into the chorus. My favorite cranky Starbucks barista would have none of it. I live in the West End where people tell it like it is…clear and direct! It’s my mission in life to get him to crack a smile.

“It’s my birthday,” I say, waiting for my iced Americana, having sworn off lattes for the moment.   It’s the little things, after all.    Change your Starbucks habit, change your life, I always say. Well I don’t but maybe I should start, it seems a likely t- shirt slogan.
“I have the Beatles floating around inside my head…you know the song.”
“How many Beatles dearie? And don’t expect me to get in there with them. My head has voices enough.”
I buy the New York Times and settle in to enjoy some sunshine before heading to the beach for my B- Day BBQ. I feel happy and alive.


My friends are amazing. I am so blessed. A spot was scouted and secured early in the afternoon. Purple balloons marked the spot. I brought metallic beads to hang from the trees and cushions and blankets staked our territory on the dog friendly sands at the water’s edge. The food was tremendous including a cake invented in my honor which rocked my no sugar, no starch world and is now called The Tiara after the glistening crystals that adorned my head for the day.  The best part of any gathering for me is the co –creativity.  Old friends, new friends, each bringing their gift of spirit to celebrate and connect.

I was down pouring ( a term used to describe discreetly hiding wine as you fill glasses since you are not actually allowed to imbibe on the beach) on a rich green velvet cloth that covered a standing drum. I thought, I better not spill, since whoever owns that drum will be so upset. When I received the mahogany drum as a birthday gift I felt tears welling up. I have always wanted to drum and judge myself inadequate.
When I expressed my fears, the friend who was giving me the gift said,” If a person has a heartbeat they can drum.” Then with touching grace our eyes met and connected. “And you dear friend, have a huge heart!” I took a breath and softened, deeply touched.


The sun was beginning to set casting luminous shades of amber rays across the waters. The drumming circle was calling in the distance and we made our way over to join in dancing down the sun. I christened my drum rather shyly, much more comfortable dancing with my body that the externalized rhythm of my hands. I am ok with that for now.  I will grow bold as I continue to dare myself to stretch.


As light faded into dark and we adorned ourselves with glow in the dark bracelets I whispered a silent internal thank you. Even my holiday dog, Roxanne had her paws illuminated with florescent colors. She makes me smile with delight! 

You know, I think the west coast has seeped into my bones when I wasn’t looking.  I feel the energetic roots of nature and the elements, of music and harmony among friends, wrap me in a cocoon of contentment.

I anticipate much laughter as I gaze with pleasure at the coming year of transformation and adventure. And I will follow the advice of the immortal fab four on birthdays and take a “ch ch  ch chance…”


And darn if the song doesn’t begin its repetitive refrain again.


Authentically Yours
Marty

You know when you know

It’s now eight weeks since my store has opened and there’s something quite magical going on here.  I’ve opened businesses before and their beginnings were often fraught with really high stress levels, no sleep, delays, financial concerns, you name it …

This time it’s a different story.  Of course, there are many of the same challenges, but they don’t feel so insurmountable.  I’ve realized that it is because right now I'm doing what I’m supposed to be doing.  And the first clue for me about that is that I absolutely love it. 

And the rest of the clues lie in the little things.  Tucked away in the back corner is The Rose Room.  This has been a dream of mine for many years … a place where people can come to surrender.  Sit in peace.  Be heard.  Be seen.  Be acknowledged.  And I have attracted some wonderful people who are able to provide that through intuitive readings.  Personally I love giving readings as well, so this has come to fruition from within, and it feels very much in alignment with who I am.

Last week, a woman walked into the store and asked about readings.  She didn’t know which of the four readers that are available would be the right one for her.  I asked her if there was anything in particular she wanted to focus on (that can help point me in the right direction) but she said no, she just wanted a reading.  For some reason, I knew it needed to be me and found myself telling her that I was the right choice – and I didn’t need to defend my answer either.  It just was.  So we made an appointment for the following day.

We settled into The Rose Room, and part way into the reading I was talking about her children.  She interrupted me to tell me she had lost a son.  Although that was not what prompted her to come for a reading, it was the main reason we were such a good match.  Her son had died from cardiomyopathy, as had mine.  I won’t go into to details, but I can assure you that the both of us got a huge healing from this reading. 

This is not the only time that The Rose Room has served its purpose.  Already there have been many people in for readings with either Natasha Rosewood, Janice Savage, Jean Bonvini, Shana Lee Gibson, or myself. When they leave, they do so with more presence.  It is such a lovely transformation to witness. 

All this is not to ignore the fact that I have a fabulous collection of clothing, art, lovingly-crafted jewellery, and other gifts (thanks to my stable of cool hunters) and I love that part as well.  The beauty of it all just adds to the ambience and the sense that yes, this is a place that is worth visiting.  For many reasons. 

I love what I am doing. 

Authentically yours,

Buns

www.natasharosewood.com

www.universalenergycoaching.com

www.shanaleegibson.com

The Art of Being Known

Breathing in thunderstorms, finding great coffee, visiting with friends and family, and soon, a taste of lake filled cottage life…all these activities are an integral part of my day to day life at the moment. I am in Toronto, my disowned hometown, and land of my raucous and well spent youth. As I travel down memory lane, awake to every nuisance of my past, I translate each feeling into present time awareness and realize how very changeable my inner state is here. I feel a mixture of gratitude and happiness as well as painful queasy swirls as I pass by landmarks from my childhood that vibrate with images of who I was. I cannot help but compare that with who I am now. There is something humbling when one realizes just how unconscious one was…and truly, even though I was always a searcher I can see how very limited my perception was. I used to believe that if people did not see things the same way they were not connected. That thought left me feeling disappointed.

Now I start with the premise that everyone has a different map of reality and no two people do see things exactly the same way. I start with the belief that we are all connected in essence and now when I find mutuality and commonality on a form level I am thrilled.

This brings me to today’s musings on the art of being known. I have a man on my mind, or on my heart and I am damned if I can settle on a geographical name for him. For some reason he is difficult to place that way. I reject Costa Rica since that feels like his past and I am just not landing in any kind of solid resonance in terms of anonymous nicknames. If I was to follow an unbridled spark I would name him Paris, since he seems to have inspired a French  fantasy filled with morning light, intimate connection, shared warm chocolate de pain and café au lait as steamy as the details of a Parisian film noir starring Catherine Deneuve and Yves Montand.


He says he desires to be known, to be understood. He does not really know yet that he has met a person…me….whose skill set and desire for knowing others is far beyond the norm. When he states this yearning, which he seems to feel quite deeply, it excites me. I too after all desire to be known. I don’t doubt my tenacity to keep asking until I get it right. And I no longer make the kind of assumptions that I used to when viewing peoples behavioral choices. These days if I don’t understand I ask. But here is the tricky part. Being free of assumptions and having unlimited curiosity and willingness to stretch to include another’s reality isn’t really enough to know them. That other person, beyond their desire to be known has to be willing to disclose and be transparent. In others words they would have to do their part and supply the information necessary in order to BE KNOWN.



In this case I am confused! I have a variety of interpretations about a number of observations. The answers to my musings could be a, b, c, or d….and really there is not allot I can do about another person’s willingness to share straight up, direct,  personal information….especially of the risky kind…the kind that generates intimacy.


 I also used to think that by modeling disclosure first, it would somehow invite the other person to follow suit. I am not sure that is true anymore either. So I remain honest and willing to answer any and all questions, without taking the lead. Not an easy feat for an over functioning leader type who is used to going full steam forward when my interest is piqued.


This time around I want an unfolding, an experience of relationship opening with ease and gentleness. I desire a person who wants to open as well. This time… Je voudrai transparence, to be the default, not the cherry on top. (Pardon what is possibly grammatically incorrect French.) While such openess  may not be for everyone, it is for me. I feel safe and included, seen and known when transparency is a mainstay instead of just an occasional yummy red bite of dessert afterthought.


Who do I know who has that quality in their relationship…no one.   And yet that doesn’t deter me. If the desire to be known is strong enough then transparency is the key component that increases the likelihood of it happening. I remain committed to The Art of Knowing and Being Known, not just on special occasions but as a way of being that invites depth and oneness all the time.
And I continue to imagine what it might feel like if there are ways of knowing and being known that I haven’t even thought of.
Mmmmm……


Authentically yours,
Marty

The sound of silence

For the past six years or so, I have chosen to take a break from my usual frenetic pace and spend a few days with my meditative friends at a retreat. Most of this hiatus is held in silence and I have grown my appreciation for that state immensely since I first, with much hesitation and trepidation, signed on to shut up.

I remember my first experience as an advanced game of charades, where if I needed something, I would make hand signals to someone else there in the hopes that my needs would be met.  I shudder at my physical loudness by doing that at the time.  I actually mimed “I need to bum a smoke” across the room by pointing sequentially at my eye, my knee, my rear end and then made the universal sign of inhaling a cigarette.  I’m sure you get the picture. (I am ever so grateful to my incredibly patient teacher who did not throw me out back then … thank you …)

During my next few years, I gained a lot of ground and competency in the art of silence where I came to the realization that I wasn’t actually stopping myself from talking, but rather entering a refuge where silence was my comfort “blanky” and I was nestling in for a restorative period where I could recharge my batteries.  Each year I grew more eager to spend time there and more daring as to where I would allow my incessant thoughts to take me.  But what the hell would I do if those thoughts became too unbearable or took me to places that I didn’t believe I had the stamina, strength, or boldness to navigate?  (So far, I have always been able to stay with the program and have been astounded at what one can learn by just listening compassionately to one’s self.)

This year, during one of our initial conversations before we chose silence, the difference of noise and sound was discussed.  It was a lovely distinction that I am still able to work with even though I have returned to the normal hustle and bustle of my daily regimen.  My incessant thoughts are noise.  Someone using a chainsaw off in the distance is sound.  What I learned this time around is that I can have silence any time … it’s my relationship with sound and noise that can allow it.  Although I will continue to make my yearly pilgrimage for some years to come, I don’t have to wait for those few days each year to enjoy that coveted quiet.

I can recall on many occasions throughout my life where I tried to create silence through sensory deprivation (floating in the water with my ears under the surface – especially in the Caribbean!) and savouring those moments as though they were fleeting and rare.  I now am able to have that whenever I wish, and I don’t have to jump in the ocean or use ear plugs to get there.

Must run … I have several new songs I have to learn before Saturday … 

Shhhh. 

Love Buns

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