I waited for both children to be in school before making some life changes. I started to volunteer making friendship visits to isolated or terminally ill residents in my community; there was one eighty-eight year old widow, Mrs.Darby who used to teach at my children’s school. She was frail suffering from Emphysema and lonely. One day she called me to get her a loaf of bread. When I arrived at her home with the bread, her next door neighbour was just leaving her home having also dropped off a litre of milk. I chuckled at how cunning she was to insure a visit.
She was a delightful lady. We would spend hours talking about how she used to personally sew her Grade 2 students’ outfits for concerts; one evening we spent hours looking over her Christmas baking recipes. Hearing her talk about her years teaching gave me the idea to invite her to my children’s Christmas recital. There was a snowstorm that day, but we still managed to get to the school. I watched her face glow when she saw the children performing on stage. After the assembly, it was such a treat to see so parents and even some grandparents walk up to greet their former Grade 2 teacher. It was priceless to see the joy on Mrs. Darby’s face…
happenstance
together on the same path
for a season,
a last farewell gift
before finding the light
Our host has presented an interesting prompt as we discuss episode 7: The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying Insight 6 balance isn’t always necessary and his introduction on this subject speaks to me as well as his haiku.
Working on a youth line, listening to youths in crisis every evening, I have to find some balance in my life so I do not live with stories of abuse and sadness. Reading was my way to escape for many years until I rediscovered writing. I am able to defuse pent up emotions and other times rediscover the beauty around me and write about it in a haibun, haiku, troiku or tanka. In other words, waka has added the beauty of nature dripping in my whole being with sights, sounds and scents.
I take away so much strength from the power of the firmament…the blues, the greys, the curves of clouds as well as sunsets I often view on my break on the rooftop at work.
Our host has written a haiku about early dawn which is a time I rarely see at the start of my day recently due to my shift change in the past few years but I do remember that spiritual feeling The haiku includes a sunflower which is my nom de plume in French, Tournesol, so his haiku truly speaks to me. …here is my response to his haiku I have composed in a Troiku which is a haiku form created by our host, Chèvrefeuille.
in the light of dawn sunflowers reach to the blue sky praising their Creator
Rinpoche sees life as a bardo (a kind of transition station) and that’s not a such bad idea in my opinion. It shows us that our consciousness has senses, lives in a world, observes, starts relationships, living life. Rinpoche says: “Life is to discover the goodness of life, an exercise to realize that life is good and that also means … accepting dead as part of our life.”
Look at yourself with compassion from the depth of your consciousness, your soul. It’s a peaceful thought to know that our daily personality has a deeper Inner Self to whom we can listen always. Our Inner Self is our tower of strength. A lovely Inner Voice, that whispers: “Yes you are out of balance, but don’t worry you will regain your balance. You need this difficult time to grow and become stronger and more balanced. So don’t worry, don’t be afraid, I am there, I am with you. I travel with you”. Isn’t that a reassured idea? Isn’t that the reason to live your life to the fullest?
My response
This is so true. Whenever I find myself out of balance, my body breaks down and I need to take time off and rest. Often these were times I discovered the value of true friends who were there to take walks in nature, share a home cooked meal or just listen and be present with me. I also love long moments alone…
Getting on to the bus, she shuffled with her cane and asked the young man behind the bus driver for his seat. It is a seat designated for visually impaired or those with limited movement. She would have taken a seat further but her backpack was heavy and there is a shelf to place bags next to that seat. The young man had his ear buds on, on and looked at her and barked, “there are plenty of other seats!” with a smug look on his face. She noticed a seat further down so she took her bag off her shoulders and placed it next to the man and shuffled off to another seat. An older woman looked at her with a look of fear in her eyes. Now that really irked her for she felt that some older and more frail men and women felt intimidated by this behaviour.
society rendering vulnerable – exposed
She sat down and took out her beaded bracelet and decided to chant her mantra silently. All the while trying to “let it go”. It was not easy at first for responses like “What would your mother think about your behaviour? Would you treat your grandmother like that?” But then she was thinking he came from a bad place emotionally and was perhaps hurting…maybe angry at the world. After completing her mantra she could gradually feel a sense of relief, she then chanted in her mind a mantra wishing happiness to the world, thinking of this angry, rude young man.
Om, Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti
When she stepped off the bus the young man was behind her and had to pause so she could hold on to the side of the bus to avoid stumbling (like she did last year and fell flat on her face). She noticed he had very fashionable and expensive clothes on and shook her head in dismay at his lack of education and consideration for others.
Getting on the Métro, she was saddened looking at the inside of the train…
“May all beings everywhere be happy and free and may the thoughts, words and actions of my own life contribute in some way to that happiness and to that freedom for all.” Shanti: Peace
The view of fresh fallen snow offers a promise of hope. She looks at the pure whiteness from her bedroom window and smiles. It was a welcoming mild day compared to the arctic weekend she’d just passed…the snow would be heavy yet sticky, just the right consistency to make snow forts, snowballs and snowmen. She saw children giggling and sliding in her mind’s eye.
Walking on the snow-covered sidewalks she noticed the grey skies threatening more snow but it was too mild…surely it may turn to rain or sleet. Mother Nature can get overwhelmed with the earth’s heating; she seemed dazed and confused.
Later shuffling through snow, its texture reminded her of cookie dough batter. You know when you add butter to that fluffy white flour and beat it until it all blends together. Her mind wandered to old childhood memories. Her GrandMaman would let her lick the bowl of batter…how she loved adding just a smidgen of sugar on the raw dough.
GrandMaman would spread the batter and let her granddaughter choose the cookie cutters of shapes of animals, stars or hearts depending on the occasion. Her favourites were the star and heart.
Walking along the street streets, she looked up at the grey skies
downy coverlet
swaddling nature’s crib
glistens in the night
Seven days before Christmas #2 “silent Night
eyelids quiver
toss and turn ’til morning
dreaming of reindeer
~
singing in the night
herald the newborn King
Silent Night
Seven days before Christmas #3 “decorations”
popcorn garlands
cinnamon and eggnog
Christmas long ago
~
scent of pine cones
tinsel and candy canes
holiday’s hope chest
Seven Days Before Christmas 2015 #4 presents
As young children, they started their list after Halloween. Mother would eavesdrop on their conversations of hopes and wishes. Watching her children stare at toy commercials, she’d revise the list over and over. Finally they posted each their list on the fridge door, checking it every day trying not to pout and do everything right.
On Christmas Eve, they set a plate of carrots and lettuce for Santa’s reindeer by the patio door and cookies for Santa with a glass a milk. The night before Christmas, they were tucked in early, promising to not get up even if they heard bells jingle, thumping in the living room or any long baritone mirth. The rule was to wait after the sun was up and tip toe carefully in the living room, if there was a late delivery. If they even saw a shadow of a burly man in a red suit, they were to dash back into their beds under the covers.
Since excitement made them rise early, the children were given permission to look at their Christmas stockings but wait for Mommy and Daddy before opening any other presents Santa left under the tree.
candy canes and mints
children’s Christmas kisses
sweetest treats
Mother would wake up, lying in bed and smile, listening to the children whispering exclamations on their new finds; then they’d tiptoe in the bedroom wishing their parents a Merry Christmas and pleading to get up so they could open their presents.
gift of love
open hearts, compassion reigns
the newborn King
Seven days before Christmas #5 Peace
(Troiku)
heavenly feast at the altar midnight mass
heavenly feast
fills each soul with grace
fit for a King
at the altar
nativity scene glows
babe in a manger
midnight mass
children’s choir sing with joy
divine child is born
Il est né le divin enfant (heavenly child is born)
Chorus: Il est ne, le divin Enfant, Jouez, hautbois, resonnez, musettes; Il est ne, le divin Enfant; Chantons tous son avenement!
1. Depuis plus de quatre mille ans,
Nous le promettaient les Prophetes;
Depuis plus de quatre mille ans,
Nous attendions cet heureux temps. Chorus
2. Ah! qu’il est beau, qu’il est charmant,
Que ses graces sont parfaites!
Ah! qu’il est beau, qu’il est charmant,
Qu’il est doux le divin Enfant! Chorus
3. Une etable est son logement,
Un peu de paille, sa couchette,
Une etable est son logement,
Pour un Dieu, quel abaissement! Chorus
4. O Jesus! O Roi tout puissant!
Tout petit enfant que vous etes,
O Jesus! O Roi tout puissant!
Regnez sur nous entierement! Chorus
Translation:
Refrain He is born, the Heav’nly Child, Oboes play; set bagpipes sounding He is born, the Heav’nly Child. Let all sing his nativity.
1. ‘Tis four thousand years and more,
Prophets have foretold His coming,
‘Tis four thousand years and more,
Have we waited this happy hour. Refrain
2. Ah, how lovely, Ah, how fair,
What perfection is his graces,
Ah, how lovely, Ah, how fair.
Child divine, so gentle there. Refrain
3. In a stable lodged is he,
Straw is all he has for cradle.
In a stable lodged is he,
Oh how great humility! Refrain
4. Jesus Lord, O King with power,
Though a little babe you come here,
Jesus Lord, O King with power,
Rule o’er us from this glad hour. Refrain
peace of mind snow covered highways last guests – home safe
last guest – home safe bearing gift of mirth contented souls
~ rain slick highways cloud mists from the sky showering peace
Seven days before Christmas #6 Mistletoe
Her parents had given her that first record player. It looked like an old portable typewriter case. How she loved it, carrying it over to her friends for sleepovers. She remembers her godmother giving her the single record, by Teresa Brewer. She played it so often, it skipped.
under the mistletoe a smile is planted on her lips, dreams of her first kiss
Something nudged me so early in the morning. It was pitch black outside and my mind was in a fog. I looked at the time and wondered why I was so wide awake at 5:45 am, since I’d been sleeping barely three hours. Well now, I thought, lying in bed trying to get back to my dream that was a bit of a mystery. Lots of running around like cat and mouse. Must be the detective flics I had been watching on Law & Order again. But sleep would not greet me and I realized then, it must be the spirit that was excited like a child. Things to do still on this Christmas Eve morning.
A bit of shopping and cooking today and Christmas dinner tomorrow with the most important people in my life, my children and grandchildren. Then I will be working a night shift at midnight; our manager invited us all to come in to work in our PJ’s…yes, that is another item I need to pick up…something funny and outrageous!
When I think about it, a whole 24 hours will be spent in love and compassion…the first half with my children and the second half,at our youth line with amazing caring colleagues.
It’s a privilege for me to take those calls…a window opens on holidays like this where I get to enter the world of other families who, for some, may be struggling this holiday season. Many youths wishing the two weeks off were over already so they can get some sense of normalcy in school with their friends. Time off can be entering a festive time, family and friends celebrating, holiday cheer; it can also be walking on a mine field trying to avoid explosions and turmoil. So yes, I feel privileged to be there.
The grey skies are an exception this time of year and I noticed at the Métro, these past few days there are less homeless people seeking warmth in the subways. The warmer weather is certainly a blessing to many who normally are out in the cold as we sit in the comfort of our homes with family and friends.
shimmering light spirit of compassion glows, hearts blossom
It was my first retreat. I was sharing a room with a long time devotee I had never met. I was not even worried but what did unnerve me, was how would I react when this spiritual Mother, this world renowned guru would arrive? Would I feel something special within? Would there be a sign from the universe? I was going out of curiosity that summer of 2014 as I had been seeking something to help me grow spiritually. I was open to learn.
The first day I arrived I waited with my token, in a long line, to be embraced by this amazing woman. I reached the stage and sat down waiting to be summoned to move forward. I could feel my body shake out of anticipation or nervousness.
I wasn’t sure which.
My mind went back to when I had to face the bishop as a child at my Confirmation. I was so nervous I had to pee so bad! Not unusual since I was confirmed at five years old. Young? Yes, but I was tall and my mother wanted to spare the embarrassment of towering over my peers, so the priest gave his permission. I took extra Catechism lessons and memorized The Apostles’ Creed and I would be led to that man with the tall pointed hat! I did not appreciate the slap on the cheek (The teacher forgotten to tell me about that part)
Minutes later, I was standing in front of the beloved Mother and I lowered my body to be embraced. Her warm hug was like that of my grandmother’s, as if we knew each other forever and yet we were strangers…or had we once met in another lifetime?
Three days of similar rituals, meditations, warm compassionate talks and beautiful stories, singing…so much singing and the tap tap of the Tabla drums filled the room. On Devi Bhava, after Amma had completed all her hugs, her blessings and it was time to leave…she stood up on the stage, looking at all her devotees for one last long endearing moment.
The vast room filled with thousands of people fell silent…mere echoes of a far away cough, a tiny baby gurgling and Amma’s eyes on all of her devotees; was it possible to feel this pure love wash over each and everyone in that hall?
crowd falls silent Holy Mother’s reverent gaze beat of a heart, echoes in the chamber of a chest tears roll softly down a cheek
It’s not even three in the afternoon and already the day is ready to close right before my eyes. Sadly, I watch the clouds get darker from my window. Even the cars passing by on the boulevard are louder. I hear a humming that was not there in the summer. I just realized this a few days ago, it is the winter tires that make the traffic sound louder and soon I will be hearing the studded tires crackling along on the pavement too.
As the season gets darker, bleaker, barren and colourless perhaps the sounds seem more acute as well notwithstanding those studded tires of course.
humming lullabies daylight slowly sinks – sleep well
One expresses emotions in varied ways and for some it is spontaneous and simply who they are. Perhaps you are like me when you see someone you love and have not seen in a while, you run up to the person and hug them, kiss them on each cheek.
Overjoyed the morning I felt my son moving in my tummy…the basement of our new home had flooded and I could not hide my joy. Could not relate to the damage, the flood or any problem whatsoever for a human life did somersaults in MY tummy!!
Oh how I weep with joy every time I see my daughter performing in a choir, when my son did a guitar solo and sang a Bob Dylan song, when they graduated both from high school and college; and even today when I see them smiling and teasing each other…the joy just takes too much place in my heart and so I weep.
Perhaps your emotions are too close to the surface and your heart swells so much you weep the moment a word hurts your feelings; perhaps it is anger that is too difficult to conceal and you shout, rage or cry again. Maybe you have always felt life dealt you a raw deal and everyone and everything you touch must be for your loss, like a child who stomps off angry because Mommy would not let him eat candy before dinner.
And then there are those who do not express emotions as easily and it eats at them, festers and makes them sick…they are not “at ease” hence it stirs “dis-ease”. The persons who cannot weep when they grieve, express their love when they long, show their joy when they are gripped with such a powerful love…yet to look at their body language, one cannot read the joy, happiness, rapture or sadness.
Sometimes I speak to a person who has gone through the most dreadful experiences in his past, heard such hurtful comments, witnessed such atrocities and yet I hear no emotion in the voice…flat, no affect whatsoever. Over time the dam may open slowly when a person feels safe…In this case, a person had to hide all emotion to survive. To give in to emotion may weaken them and so life goes on with explosive emotions inflating their soul…heart, like a ticking time bomb.
Emotions are not excluded to humans, and we can see that with animals that we love. It could be a horse you would groom for hours before riding, your dog you have walked, bathed like a baby and cuddled with a towel to keep them warm, a cat that leans in close to get a pet, a scratch but deep inside we know it is to be close to you…expressing their emotions in their loving and natural way.
My grandfather had rescued a golden mix a few years before got terminally ill. GrandPapa died later in his bed at his home; when the ambulance came to take his body, Princess, the golden mix, followed the cot whimpering along the side and then went running in the basement howling so loudly. She did not come up for a whole week, so great was her grief.
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
