The ties that bind.

January 20, 2014...

I arrived at work this morning to find a luscious bouquet of white roses from my friend Laura, in memory of my son Duncan.  Laura happened to be with me that fateful day 6 years ago when I first found out that he had died.  It was a raw yet intimate moment and one that is deeply etched on both of us.  I know we will stay connected forever.

Beside her bouquet was another one, with purple tulips and squiggly twigs. I absolutely knew it would be there.  Every year, this bouquet arrives from a woman I hardly know.  There is always a beautiful card and either a poem or a short blessing from her and her family.  I never see her, or talk to her, but her lovely little hand-gathered flowers, greenery and twigs, never fail to appear on the 20^th. I don’t have her phone number or her email, so I can’t even thank her.

My first phonecall this morning was from one of Dunc’s friends, asking me if I was going to be at work today.  He would drive out to give me a hug if I was.

And this is just the start… I have had texts, emails, comments, likes and cyber hugs on Facebook, all of which warm my heart immensely and help keep me buoyed in remembering more about his life and what he means to all of us, than about the fact that he is gone. This is the first year that I have felt more joy than sorrow. 

I have another reason to be joyful too and it has to do with the ties that bind and my son Sean.  He and his partner Kristina are getting married this summer and I think I’m just as excited as they are!  I didn’t really get to know Kristina well for the first year or so after they became an item.  She struck me as being quite shy and quiet and it was hard for me to connect at first. It wasn’t until I saw how she interacted with my family back east (and we’re talking a big, boisterous family – I didn’t know if she would actually survive) that made me realize why Sean loves her so much.  She particularly cottoned to my Dad who was starting to really go downhill at the time.  She was so kind, caring, and thoughtful that I knew Sean had picked the perfect person to spend his life with.  I am so happy for them.

We spent last Saturday together and took the ferry over to Vancouver Island to meet with various decorators, wedding cake purveyors, and the wedding planner.  It was great day, punctuated with bouts of laughter, moments of stressful decision-making, and a sense of having crossed a few major items off their list.  Being able to spend a whole “day in the life of S & K”, I found that they really know each other very well.  At one point, Kristina pegged Sean so well as to what he was going to do next, that it sparked a laughing fit for the two of us. I know we will remember that scene for some time to come. For me, I loved that she knew him so well.  For Sean, he loved it that she and I were laughing (quite hysterically) together.  And for Kristina… well maybe she got to know me a bit better too!

2014 is shaping up to be a wonderful year of meaningful and heart-warming connections – old and new – and I’m filled with a sense of wholesome anticipation for what lies ahead.

Branded by connection...

Buns xo

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-RinRrz6DA

Bye Bye Blues 2013

 

On Christmas Day I teetered toward a private pity party as I started the morning on my own. This was my first Christmas ever with no one there. All my usual tribe were out of town and rather than scramble for invites to distract me I leaned into the experience.  I took my holiday dog Roxy out for a walk and the first person I see is on the ground, homeless and cold. It’s Christmas morning I thought and any tendency toward self pity flew from my head.  I approached, asked his name and got to know him. Of course he wanted money. I offered food and a hot drink.

It felt so good to take his order and deliver him a latte and bagel that the dog and I continued to roam the streets getting to know our less fortunate neighbors. I realized how little it took to make a connection and make someone’s day just a little bit brighter. I noticed how good I felt when I could do that. It made me wonder about commonality and how finding it is always possible even if not always easy.

A connection often ensures when people share work, or sports, or hobbies or the ultimate social lubricant ( a phrase coined by Buns)….the dog. Yes…the dog. Sure Roxanne is a cute bublbly red head with engaging brown eyes and a ready to please personality but the response on the streets really took me aback. Smiles were returned, initiated even and eye contact was common. She was the ultimate ice breaker and I wondered if I would have been half as brave in making contact with strangers without her by my side.

 There was something about my four footed pal that caused people to act like long lost members of the same tribe. We could talk about anything. Total strangers shared all sorts of intimate details not to mention how bold I became. I thought nothing of approaching a strong athletic type of guy and asking if he’d mind kicking Roxy’s soggy squeaky football because I was sure his ability to get some distance would far surpass mine. Without the dog I would never have met so many fun people.

So the question on the table is how do I keep this energy going once Roxy goes home? Seriously, living life this way seems like an open invitation to spontaneity and connection. It’s like an evite to the universe to keep weaving circumstances with the most unlikely candidates and watching to see what happens. I like it.  

So I started my conscious connecting New Years Eve and before going cold turkey meaning no dog, no props, no cocktails, I let myself ease into my new attitude with some fine martinis ( we had just discovered some brilliant olives stuffed with baby pickles and a  little trinket that my roomie T bought for me. Picture this. A headband on the top of your head with protruding fiber optic spikes that glow purple and red. It moves, when you tilt your head, it glitters and best of all it invites conversation. Weird…well yes but we have already established that as a norm. Truth be told I have always had a penchant for dressing up and hey its downtown…the New Year upon us and anything goes. Along with our portable sound system cranking tunes it was a real hit on the city buses. We made a lot of people laugh.

This New Year’s Eve also included a letting go, fire ritual. I had things to burn and release. The caldron was ready, the witches came and humor was non negotiable. New Years Day started with a brunch of decadence, Panecotti French toast with Mascarpone and fresh orange juice. And then the madness of the Polar Bear swim, gorillas paired with Santas in red Speedos and hordes of happy vibrant people all coming together at English Bay as they danced into the frigid ocean waters. This was the perfect canvas to begin to paint my New Year attitude around connection.

Everyone seemed so fresh with a clean slate 2014 feeling, including me.

And I have 365 days to make eye contact, initiate conversation and cultivate a perception of pure acceptance for myself and others. Like a prescription for the social malaise which I have felt held hostage by lately I fully commit to at least one conversation with a total stranger every day. And more than just, hey how are you doing! Even if I don’t feel like it.  Even if I am having a sad day.

I also started a joy jar, a container that I will fill with pieces of paper that hold nuggets of my interactions and memories of gratitude for precious moments throughout each day.

By 2015 I will have filled it and we will sit by the fire next New Years Eve and share the content.

Isn’t life a mystery? A marvelous mystery that may or may not ever make total sense. And today I am well with that.

Branded by banishing the blues,

Authentically Yours,

Marty   

My new bestie.

It’s the post-Christmas week and I am in a state of gratitude for all the kindnesses extended, the meals proffered, the gifts thoughtfully chosen, and the extra couple of pounds I packed on due to a spate of delicious baking that kept being replenished in front of me. Yes.  It’s true.  I am grateful for those extra pounds.  They’ve caused me to take a look at myself in an entirely different way – as has my recent participation in Throwback Thursday on Facebook as well as a hilarious comment that both Marty and I made at exactly the same time while enjoying a lovely dinner last week – when deciding if we were going to use the pool during our upcoming trip to Dallas, we both said – at exactly the same time – not me!  I’m too fat!

Yikes.  That was a mean thing to say to myself.  Would I ever say that to anyone else? To be honest, I should be grateful to have maintained a physique that many women my age would be happy to have. And then, I posted a picture of myself on Faceplant – I think I was about 22 in the photo – and I had a huge response to it with words like “you’re just as beautiful now as you were then” and other comments like that. Well here’s the thing… I thought I was so ugly back then.  And when I looked at my picture, I actually felt horrible for treating myself with such disdain and judgment in those days.  And I realized that I still do it as a matter of habit.  I looked at a few more pictures from that era and saw a beautiful little face, with a huge beaming smile, love of life sparkling from my eyes, and I couldn’t believe that she was me! I felt I needed to apologize to her for my contempt.

Well, here it is a few decades later, and I recognize that I’ve always been my own worst enemy in that regard. And part of my quest for a partner has been anchored in wanting to have someone by my side as if to say “she’s worthy enough, beautiful enough, good enough” to be in a relationship with someone.

What utter hogwash. I can’t believe I’ve subscribed to that notion for so long.  I have a ways to go with this, but now, when I look at myself in the mirror, I catch myself whenever some disparaging thought bubbles to the surface and I replace it with thoughts of appreciation for me – my new best friend.

And then there’s the looming New Year (and New Moon on the same night!) when the best-laid intentions are struck. Resolutions from my past were pretty typical (exercise more often, meditate every day, practice my guitar, read more, drink less, blah, blah, blah) and also coming from a “if I do this, things will get better” place. (That’s code for “someone will ask me out on a date if I do everything right.”) I’m going to change that up a bit this year.  What if I were to just notice when I’m being contemptuous or judgmental of myself, and take a moment.  Ask myself if this is true and in present time.  Be kind, and treat myself as I would any dear friend.  I’m pretty sure this will have a far greater impact on my life than struggling to maintain promises that are made for the wrong reasons.

Someone will ask me out.  Or they won’t.  But it won’t be because of 5 extra pounds or because I didn’t maintain my resolutions.  It actually doesn’t matter as much as it used to.  And it doesn’t mean what I used to think it meant.  And besides, I have a new best friend and she’s lovely.

Branded by friendship,

Love Buns.

P.S.  Here’s a cute one for you… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ye7PIyIcCro

Self Portrait in Bloom

I have just returned from visiting family in Toronto. I feel content as if I have been sipping on a cocktail two parts love and one part stability. For years I valued the adventure and spontaneity of free spirited interaction over this combo of kindness and solidity. This year I cherish the sense of having no doubt that as different as we are individually I am valued by this mixed tribe of people.

As a kid I used to say I was adopted. I made up stories about who my father was. His accent and gruff demeanor embarrassed me. While I did not have to embellish my mother’s exotic background and her raven haired elegance made her a head turner, on some level I yearned for the type of parents I saw reflected around me. My parents immigrated after the war and the area they chose for a part of my formative years was quite affluent. I always felt like an alien surrounded by all those pearls and plaid. They had manicured lawns and corgis. I had a German Sheppard and a chick I got for Easter that grew into a rooster called Dr Kildare. 

I had no qualms waving a postcard at a peer and insisting that I had painted this work of art myself. At six years old I was comparing myself to my environment trying to elevate my status in order to belong and feel better about myself. I was creative and expressive and bold. That did not go down well in that conservative polite environment. I did not look like everyone else and deciding I would never fit in I embraced being the rebel. I designed flamboyant outfits wearing my grandmother’s vintage furs, dragging them on the ground. I lived in my imagination and performed ballet in a tutu for show and tell.  I was weird. Back then it caused me pain, today I embrace my weirdness and cannot even imagine trying to be like anyone else. I am happy I now know that the  task of defining oneself according to one’s own criteria is what leads to pure freedom.

Being with family resurrected memories and made me realize how comfortable I am in my own skin and also how highly overrated any kind of comparison is. It was an interesting revelation to feel so grown up, not old, just mature. When I consider what that means I always come around to evolution. I have evolved and can appreciate differences in others while at the same time remaining true to myself. I have stopped taking things so personally and know deep in my bones that whatever choices another person makes, whatever their opinion of me, it means nothing about me.

I enjoyed Toronto in a new way this trip. During a weekend hotel sleepover with my ex sister in laws (who hate when I describe them as ex) we picked up as if never having been apart. Our sisterhood goes back almost 30 years and as we explored the downtown core we rekindled the playful synergy that has remained between us. I chanced upon a unique Russian Vodka House called Pravda. Red fabric dangled from the ceiling as a bejeweled acrobat climbed its heights in the middle of the bar to impress us with her cirque du soleil routine.

The DJ was spinning old school rap while musicians were scattered on the steps and layered live riffs to create a unique atmosphere. At midnight glasses are raised to sing the Russian national anthem. I had a drink with a 30 something that left me shaking my head. Here I am toasting abstract concepts like honor, pride or the motherland and he raises his glass “To us.”

 Flattered? Yes.  Reality? Are you kidding me?

This Toronto trip had it’s share of slap stick as well as poignant encounters. I feel as if it was a stretch in preparing my heart to open in an even deeper way, one filled with acceptance and humor for the richness of being human, being fallible and being alive.

I am already missing it all.

Branded by connection:

Authentically Yours,

Marty

Recharging your batteries and other useful tips for the Christmas season.

Yikes.  The busiest week of the year for me is the one preceding the annual Christmas event with my spiritual community. There is much behind-the-scenes preparation which takes up considerable bandwidth in my already hectic schedule. And wouldn’t you know it, the clutch goes on my car a few days before the big day. Not only do I freak out about this unexpected expense, but my stress level soars and my body reacts by hiding behind an epic migraine. Yep.  Fun times.

The car gets fixed (thanks to my lovely roomie who magically has it delivered to the shop), and the next day, I run out to do errands and the #%@ing battery is dead. I’m in a dither.  And through the fog of my tenacious migraine, my hunch is that there is a loose wire and that the battery is fine.  BCAA arrives on the scene, assures me that the battery indeed needs to be replaced and so I fork out another handful of bills to make sure I have wheels for the weekend.

My roomie borrows the car while I’m at work and calls me to say the new battery is dead.  Migraine goes to the next level.  Hyperventilating is an option at this point. The car is delivered back to the shop where my new BFF Bob sees that a wire is loose and that’s all that is wrong.  I’m happy that I have functional transport again, but not so happy that I am the proud owner of a new battery that I don’t need.

Day three of migraine.  I begin to pay attention.  Something’s gotta give here.  It’s one of my favourite weekends of the year and I can’t even eat anything!  (For those of you who know me, this is the depth of despair for me. If I’m not eating, something is definitely out of whack!)

I run into a friend who goes into a self-deprecating routine and my tolerance for anything like that at this point is zero.  I tell him to stop it and even go so far as to recommend a Bob Newhart YouTube segment to get my point across. It suddenly dawns on me that you teach what you need to learn.  I have just told someone to watch a piece called “Stop It!”. 

So I stopped.  I took a look at the messages that were staring me in the face. I certainly wasn’t taking the time to make sure my batteries were charged.  Rather I was charging full-speed ahead to get things done with no connection to my actions at all.  My body was yelling at me to pay attention. When I finally realized that this is how I have grown to endure Christmas (by disconnecting so I don’t have to feel anything emotional), I knew I wanted to change it up. 

I took a deep breath, and began to consciously experience all the preparations for the weekend.  Every ingredient for my yummy dessert recipe was carefully measured, and I simply slowed down to smell the baking. Something quite lovely transpired – I actually enjoyed myself.  I went from ticking things off my “to do” list to living my “to be” list.  It was a nice change.

The day itself presented me with a new milestone.  I not only got through leading the Christmas carols without tears rolling down my face, but I smiled and drank deeply from the well of beautiful singing all around me.

I ate.  A lot.  My headache was gone. I was able to have the beginning of my Christmas season fully and with ease. I am looking forward to this whole month of mindful busyness and a lot of wholesome socializing (and all that great food!).

Oh yes.  And I called BCAA.  They are letting me keep my new battery and giving me a credit on my account for its value.

I am fully recharged.

Authentically yours,

Buns

P.S.  I leave you with a few wise words from Bob Newhart and Willie Nelson…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ow0lr63y4Mw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gdlyi5mckg0

SUN SHOWER

Sitting in my hairstylist chair is often an adventure into the trajectories of random thought.

While the environment of a salon often pairs lattes with gossip and complaints about him, her, this or that, my hair guru Rio is a far more aware sort of being.

 With his own marvelous mane of dreads he marches to the beat of his own drum. In his case it would be a djembe.

“Did you know we could all have gone poof this year, literally bam…sun explodes and we are zapped? It seems there was a sun eruption last April that according to NASA sparked a temporary radio blackout on Earth. As he continues to share stats in relation to the size of various planets and suns, some thousands of times bigger than our own, I burst out laughing. As humans we seem so tiny in the great scheme of the vastness of the universe. Feeling happier than I had felt in days I realize that the thought of a great big bang and us all checking out together doesn’t fill me with dread. Quite the contrary, it seems like a fine way to go. I wonder aloud why I hadn’t heard of this explosion if there was concern that it could have ended the world as we know it.

NASA had been aware of the potential and decided to keep it to themselves he informs me. I laugh even harder thinking about how his business would have declined if we were all waiting for our potential demise. A haircut would be the last thing on my mind.  I percolate on what I would be thinking about.

With the Christmas parties just starting to move into motion I decide to poll people about what they would get up to if they knew the end was in sight.

“Martinis and cigarettes,” says my pal T who is a health food, vegan, partly raw, kind of eater. She never eats processed food, even making her own chocolate from scratch.

Family oriented folks talk about spending quality time with each other. At a film industry gathering last night  there are a few attendees who say they would stop working immediately and just hang out. Do nothing.

I wonder why just the thought of this possibility makes me so happy, laugh out loud happy. I do think I am at my best in a crisis and this could certainly qualify. There is something about the end of anything that prompts me to examine the middle and sift through details looking for my learning. If it were possible to let it inspire me to live more fully I would but in this case it’s not an option, we would be gone.

I realize I would definitely want to express my gratitude and joy to those I love and who have been a part of my life. I would invite everyone to a party, a flamboyant gathering at some fantastic retreat on the water that I could now afford to rent since conserving life savings is a mute point.

 I am sure we would indulge with all sorts of things that I have to moderate now and I also suspect the level of honesty would dip so deep that superficial conversations would become irrelevant. Lots of touch, breathing in of sunsets and silliness would ensue. And maybe that’s why I laughed so hard when Rio first broached the subject.   Clearly I could use a deep shot of pleasure laced with multiple threads of real. All my current worries would vanish…literally.

And I love the sense that we would all be in the same boat. All together we leave in a blink, in a flash. Tuck and Patty’s You Take My Breath Away, a song that never fails to move me to tears of joy would be playing.

 I trust that what happens after that will be less of an illusion than much of what I encounter on this plane.  I think I have just distilled what makes me happy to a simple equation! Authenticity plus pleasure, add a dose of creativity and sensuality, sprinkle liberally with good friends and voila.  A life well lived.  So how to translate this awareness of what is really important to my current life situation. Not sure yet. 

I do know it has to involve that lusty combo of real and deep with fun and frolic. And all those things I have always wanted to do, I think it’s time to do them.

I will have the human spirit combo please…extra mayo.

Branded by release.

Authentically Yours.

Marty

http://www.space.com/20613-strong-solar-flare-erupts-towards-earth-video.html

 

 

 

Abracadabra and other magic words.

I can’t begin to describe the breadth of experiences I’ve had this week, ranging from sheer delight in the magic of the universe to seeing a friend choose to go into palliative care to get some relief from her painful suffering. At both ends of the scale lies a common factor – truth.

Let’s start with my friend. She is a lovely, radiant being, full of light and laughter, and currently very ill. We have all rallied around to support her wish to manage her condition holistically, but none of us was prepared for the devastating waves of pain that she often endured for hours. She needed respite from these bouts and we weren’t able to provide that.  Through frank and meaningful conversation, we were able to help her find that her resistance to a higher level of care was seeded in her fear of facing her childhood sexual abuse. Until she was able to begin to confront that, she wouldn’t be able to make choices for her care that were in her best interests. Her fear of having others be in control of her physically was far greater than her desire for relief. Bless her heart, she decided a couple of days ago to go to the hospital.  While I haven’t seen her yet, I hear she is getting some much needed rest and from her daily blogs (which amazingly, she is able to still post), it looks like she is facing her fears head on and talking about them, no doubt helping many others do the same. I am awed by her bravery and her determination. No matter what happens, I know she believes her journey has not been in vain. 

It was through the assistance of our beloved local doctor, who got the wheels in motion for her.  I recently heard he had started a foundation (www.paulsugarfoundation.com), to help those in need of palliative care. I contacted him and he immediately went around to see her at home. I don’t know what he said, but I have no doubt that his gentle kindness went a long way towards making her feel it was a safe decision to get admitted to the hospital.  We are indebted to him for his compassion.

While this was unfolding, I was also in the middle of reading the book, E², by Pam Grout, at the urging of a friend whose reading choices I respect greatly.  It consists of nine experiments to prove that your thoughts create your reality. To say that I am gobsmacked (or is that godsmacked?) is an understatement. I’m not going to share all my results but a couple of them will give you a taste of this experience.  In one of them, I was to state to the universe (or whoever/whatever you believe to be a field of potentiality) that I was going to see purple feathers within the next 48 hours. I went to work the next day and in walked a friend who I had not seen in a while.  She brought me a gift, accompanied by some very lovely compliments.  After she left, I opened it, and it was a pair of earrings.  And yes, you guessed it.  They were feathers.  Need I tell you there was a substantial amount of purple in the plumage?  Wow.  The next day, I was to ask again for a sign that would help me make a decision that I was currently pondering. For the purposes of an ongoing negotiation, I can’t give you the details – suffice it to say that it involved committing to spending some money that I didn’t have.  I was inclined to choose not to go ahead but it didn’t feel quite right.  Within the prescribed 48 hours, I received a notice from those fine folks in Ottawa who had decided that my income tax return needed reassessing. When I looked at the size of the cheque, I also looked at the payee’s name to make sure it was me!  The amount will more than cover my commitment, should I decide to go ahead with this business proposition.

What has this part got to do with the truth? To me, it’s to be fully aligned with the greater whole, have a connection beyond what I can comprehend and surrender to the knowledge that it is real and true.

I am reminded how blessed I am both to be allowed “in” to someone’s very private process as well as to be the recipient of endless abundance in its many forms.

Branded by hocus pocus and a whole lotta love,

Buns

P.S.  I'm so glad I found this version... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRfSbtCFKQ4