Looking out the window, she sees all the cars at the Mall. Not an encouraging site to get out unless going for a walk. The sidewalks are not cleared; the road is slushy and cars are impatient with last minute shopping and coming home from work. No, staying warm wrapped in her grandmother’s shawl admiring the lit Christmas tree seems like a wise alternative.
dreaming
what once was
miracles of Christmas
dreaming
remembering her father
cleaning the chimney
what once was
mysteries of the North Pole
Santa ate his snack!
miracle of Christmas
where did all those gifts come from
after midnight mass
Her best feline friend (bff) follows her like a puppy all day long on her last day off work.
Catnaps all day long
cuddling near her mistress
faintly snoring
ends a perfect day
savouring a bowl of bliss
body and soul quenched
tender ingredients
spiced with compassion
What a way to end a perfect weekend! Her grandson’s visit and sleepover, to his basketball tournament, returning home to nap from such an exciting day. Awakened by her loving neighbour with a seafood bisque served in a blue ceramic bowl …her favourite colour!
savouring each spoonful
flavours linger,
feeling the love.
Rising before dawn, there are still four hours before the big games. Relaxing in bed watching The Jungle Book with her favourite guy, reserving pent up energy for the tournament.
Her grandchild is tucked in, after an evening laughing playing cards and watching Netflix; he’s resting up for a tournament tomorrow morning. How silent the place feels all of a sudden. She had not realized just how quiet her home was…lacking life without her children. One gets used to the quiet not realizing what one is missing sometimes.
I realize at my age it may sound silly to say I am an orphan but when your last parent dies, that is what we are regardless of our age. My father passed in 2004 and I am without my mother since December 2014; however, fate had it that I would never have to feel alone. After a year of writing poetry and blogging, I first heard of a very special and divine person through a writer in India, Sreejit Poole from TheSeekersDungeon who introduced me to his mother, Karuna Poole from LivingLearningAndLettingGo, who in turn told me about this famous Guru. In the summer of 2014 I met this auspicious person who truly made me feel at peace. This was five months before my mother passed.
Last week, I traveled thousands of miles to gather among devotees for a three-day retreat. It was more than meditating at dawn; it was more than yoga stretches and poses. It included waiting patiently for Amma’sDarshan,however in Sanskrit, this may mean an “auspicious sight”, it was even more than merely bowing in the divine presence of Divine Mother, Mata Amritanandamayi who is known more as Amma (Mother). She is also known as the “hugging saint” and yes, she actually hugs each devotee who waits in line for her embrace, whether there are a hundreds waiting or thousands. This selfless act of love and compassion, she offers to people all over the world. I was fortunate to see Amma on her last North American Tour of 2016 before she returned to India.
Amma.org
(troiku)
chants surround me on bended knees safe in Her embrace
love surrounds me
spirit lifting
with devotion
on bended knees
no longer an orphan
in Amma’s arms
safe in Her embrace
heeding words
whispered in my ear
I found this music video sung by my favourite persons chanting mantras Deva Premal & Miten fit perfectly with this experience.
Amma – In The Light Of Love – Deva Premal & Miten
The first day of the retreat, I hesitated to kneel and was given a seat to receive Amma’s hug but the following days, I insisted on kneeling, telling myself, I can endure the pain for a few moments. I had managed to concentrate on several weaknesses of my body during this retreat.
For example,after responding to the 1000 names of The Divine Mother, we were led into a short silent meditation. The first day I had to use my inhaler to control my coughing but by the third day, I kept visualizing Amma’s face and telling myself, I can control my breathing if I slow it down, I will not be inclined to cough and it worked each time we meditated. I learned to control the depth of my OM as well. It was softer but by controlling the level of my voice, I was able to follow along respecting my limitations.
It may seem like a minor accomplishment but for me it was astounding. I talk for hours on the phone counselling youths nine hours a day, four day a week. In the past year I have noticed towards the last two hours I am coughing more and find it difficult to talk for long periods of time. I know now I am able to control the level of my voice…I will try to practice to talk slower and softer to take care of my throat and lungs.
Some say when they receive Darshan, Amma gives them a profound and wise message. I have never had one in person but each retreat I learn something and these past few days, I have received messages in silence. I felt her presence helping me control my breathing. There are other insights but I will share them on another post.
(tanka)
Amma’s presence
healing and divine
gives me strength
unleashing unknown skills
mastering from within
Grief can be quite mysterious. One day it can feel like you are wrapped in a prickly shawl that makes you uncomfortable only now and then, when the prickles pinch you. Other times it can weigh you down like an iron wrap and slow you down for no reason at all. It snakes around and hides a spell and you may think that all must be fine, until it crawls out at the most inopportune time.
It is a slow process and not one person experiences it exactly the same way but the roller coaster of emotions can make you nauseous sometimes and other times angry, sad, guilty and salty tears return again cleansing your heart.
Sometimes I find grief is a bit like a leaky faucet. You know when, all you really need to do is change those worn out washers, but you don’t get around to it. The water may start leaking when you least expect it.
Aw but laughter is cathartic and it can be a nice way to reminisce of past times, long ago and maybe an image will make you smile…a nice reprieve.
November has been more palpable than former years. Once we passed a few weeks of rain, one gets the feeling that life is still hanging on. There are the odd trees with colourful leaves hanging proudly on their branches. It is almost as if nature is making a statement but it is difficult to interpret the meaning.
The other day I noticed one tree on my way to work with half of the right side full of yellow leaves and the other half completely bare. I smiled as I passed by the tree and wondered how the wind and the rain worked in tandem to catch ONLY one side of the tree. “Nature works in mysterious ways sometimes”, I thought to myself, shaking my head.
Yes, November seems less dark. Last week I looked out the window from my desk at work and I catch a glimpse of such beauty. No time to get to the rooftop for I may miss those warm colours. Yesterday, I saw this huge ball of fire dipping and the few seconds it took for me to aim my phone to that glorious scene, the sun had almost slipped completely below the horizon!
How blessed I feel, sitting at my desk, watching the Great Spirit paints different shades with each brush stroke on His canvas. And despite listening to the struggles of youths on the phone, I am relieved we can give them a bit of hope and I feel the presence of something very powerful as I look out the window.
I am thinking of the approaching days and the anniversary of my mother’s death As we approach this date, December 2nd, I feel myself slowly replaying that night by her side … her last moments here. I cannot help but wonder if it is because it is my mother. It is just as I replay the birth of my children the day before their birthdays even 30+ years later; I find myself also replaying the end of life with my mother. How blessed I was to be by her side.
ashen waves
sentimental currents
whispering despair
wind driving clouds away
making way for sunshine
I love remembering times with my mother and talking about her with my children. They too have fond memories of her. Every time they smile and laugh at how funny she was. She was a bit like Lucille Ball only she was not acting!
(c)Clr,16
missing you
my new role in life
as an orphan
remembering you
showers of sweet blessings
Depression can mean many things. We tend to overuse that word meaning, sad, moody, down in the dumps and wiped from work or school; all these last moments to days or weeks but depression is not quite the same thing.
I remember seeing the face of depression when I was a teen for the first time. I observed the grey tint to her face, the emptiness in her hazel eyes and that consistent pout. Of course, what did I know at thirteen? I thought there was a cause and that was the effect. One person causing a broken heart, which in turn turned those hazel eyes into depression.
And yet, I know now that it is far more complex than that. Yes, a broken heart is grieving a love that one had. I like to call all grief a “necessary depression”. And that sadness can conjure up old wounds and offer an opportunity to reflect and perhaps heal some of them.
Depression does not have to be the result of a particular cause. It can surface for no reason at all outside of the person. “A chemical imbalance,” a doctor may explain. I remember getting calls from youths shocked that they could possibly be suffering from depression when they were in a loving family, they had good friends at school and they were doing will academically. But this does happen. Sometimes there is a genetic component that may increase the risks of depression.
I also recall working in home-care and seeing some of my colleagues (nurses or personal support workers) who were suffering from “burnout”. I had not realized how that can creep into your life like a snake…very slowly.
That may be why I never saw it coming for myself. Working at two part-time jobs, taking two courses per semester at university, member of school committees at my children`s school, along with other volunteer positions. I learned what it meant to “burn the candle at both ends”.
Depression allowed me…no forced me…to take the time to reflect on my life. It was like I was driving on the expressway and never taking the time to stop and visit the towns along that highway. Depression forces you to take the scenic route, although you may not see it as charming at first. Truths are never too pretty to face sometimes but the weight alleviated makes your perception on life so much prettier.
depression
depleting life’s fragrance
fetid black hole
semantics adorn truth eau de mélancolie
&&&
rising to darkness
blinded
glare of the sun
struggling to decipher
imitation from realness
&&&
dawn to dusk
one long steady sweep
of grayness
children playing in a park
specs of colour start bouncing
&&&
depression
my sunshine poking me
never giving up
finding my lost treasure
my self-worth
Walking home she lifted her eyes towards the sky and sighed. The beauty of that moon gave her energy despite the end of a long evening at work. She stopped, admiring this cosmic show and wished she could capture just once, with a photo. “Aw”, she said, “at least I have this imprinted in my memory. Perhaps if I write about it, whenever I want to be reminded of celestial beauty, the words may bring me back to this moment.” Just before walking into her home, she took one last look …
speechless weaving through stray billows moon and I
The body remembers, they say. Last night after dinner around eight, her lower back was aching. They had just finished a birthday dinner one day ahead. Her son was born the following day at noon. When her guests left, she put an ice-pack on her back and rested on her comfy couch watching a new series “The Crown”. The series caught her attention in so many ways since her mother had her children during the same era Queen Elizabeth did and she was born in 1926 like her mother. Watching the children in those times, the fashion, the cars, brought her back to her own childhood. Reminiscing back and forth from her youth and bouncing back to when she gave birth to her firstborn was a memorable way to end her evening.
.
She remembers, long ago, that soft throb coming from her lower back every fifteen minutes on her lower back and increasing with intensity over hours until she realized after midnight that this must be the beginning of her labour. Who really knows when it’s your first?
.
Perhaps it is true…the body remembers and her backache was a subtle reminder of the joy of giving birth today to her son, thirty-eight years ago.
years go by seem to vanish in thin air like a shooting star
years go by
babe to boy to teen to man
life fast-forwards
seem to vanish in thin air
time at a standstill
snapshots remember
like a shooting star
beyond the milky way,
how time flies!
(c) Tournesol’16-11-07
Daily Moments November 7, 2016
To learn how to write a Troiku which is a new form of Haiku, Chèvrefeuille, who created this form, explains it on his blog Carpe Diem Haiku Kai
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
