Whispering Angels

My sister will like this

2010-04-26T23:32:00.001-07:00

It's been so incredibly long since i've written anything - I know my little sister will be happy about this as she always tells me that she hasn't given up on checking my blog to see if I'm back to writing.

I've been living back in Saskatchewan now for just over 12 months. I realized today that I haven't been on a plane and crossed an international border in an entire year. A complete flip in circumstances for me.

First, I lived on a farm. Closest neighbor a mile away. I'd take a 7 kilometer run, jog past grazing horses, maybe get passed by a tractor, and other than that - not see another person. Now I'm in Saskatoon again. A city I'd made home for almost 10 years. This city has a beauty I never really understood before. I'm humbled each day as I cross the bridge on my way to work - by beauty or the weather. I walk 20 minutes across one of the most pristine city rivers I've ever seen - I'm overtaken with such joy at these times.

I work at a boutique now. I work with my hands and my heart and I really like it. I meet so many people.

A group of incredible people keep coming into my life. One after another. I am continuously reminded that life is to be shared with others. I'm so grateful for the teachers, guides, friends and experiences that are reminding me of my true nature.

As far as blogging goes - I think i'm going to get back into it. Writing helps me to focus my thinking and make sense of some of the thoughts that keep drifting through. I used to document my travels because I was afraid those precious memories would fade. I realize now that it's those precious times that will always stay awake in me. It's the pace of daily life in a familiar place that needs documenting as it's so much easier to be asleep here. It's so much easier to zone out and just fall into the familiar grooves and patterns of the people in this place - as they are the grooves and patterns i've spent more time in than any other.

Michelle

Releasing the past

2009-08-03T18:41:00.001-07:00

My past gripped my heart today

it came up from behind

wrapped its cold steely fingers and squeezed.

My little heart quickened

my body ached

my minded played me

tested me.

'How strong are you then?

prove it to me! Show me!!

my past said to me with a wry smile on its lips

that's a good question

thanks for this test!

my past is an idea; a series of memories my mind likes to hold

like a child with a favorite blankie.

The blankie serves its purpose for a time.

it warms toes on cold nights and protects from monsters in the dark

but there comes a time when the child outgrows that little square of cotton

when it becomes a hindrance, a crutch, an obsession - not simply a blanket that warms the toes

and comforts dark fears.

When does the parent choose to remove the blankie from the child's hand?

When do i decide to remove my past from my present?

Under the Prairie Sky

2009-08-01T08:39:00.000-07:00

7 kilometers of open road

my running shoes, ipod and I

the sun is trying to break through the clouds

a hot breeze brushes past my skin

evaporating my sweat even before it's out of my body

welcome to the desert.

i turn 180 and see nothing but horizon everywhere i look

the crops are changing

strips of gold appear in the fields of green

a white horse looks up from her breakfast in the pasture to watch me go by

a butterfly flutters from wild flower to wild flower alongside the road

It doesn't take much to make my heart soar with the clouds

7 kilometers of open road

under the prairie skies has me dancing in the heavens.

A Sunset over Clearwater Lake

2009-06-17T21:49:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Falkor and I took a walk just before sunset. Here's a small glimpse of what we saw.

4 Generations and a Piano

2009-06-17T21:30:00.001-07:00

My cousin Cassidy, is 9 and she's studying piano under the direction of my great aunt Joyce who is 81. Joyce is Cassidy's great great aunt. There was a performance tonight in my cousin's basement. An audience of 12 sat around the piano in folding chairs. There was a hockey net set up behind me in front of a wall riddled with holes. Shooting practice.

Without a moment's hesitation Cassidy introduced her first song and her fingers hit the keys. Then another and another and another. She and Joyce played a duet. I marveled as I watched their hands playing alongside one another. The movement of their hands bouncing across the keys together, 4 generations between them, yet one piece of music flowing from the upright.

Next my great uncle hit the keys, Old Shanty Town had my other cousins and uncles singing along. There I was in a basement with my family, uncles and aunts, cousins and parents all gathered together for a short performance on the piano.

Of course the performance ended with coffee and cake. Nothings seems complete in my family without at least one cup of coffee .

My great uncle ran home to get his violin. It was made of an old crutch, a tin can, a wire and a pair of pliers. (I'm not joking) He played us a few songs and some were laughing so hard they had tears rolling down their cheeks. I took my turn at trying to play the string - you squeeze the pliers to play higher notes and release it to play the lower. It was really hard ~ I'm so impressed that my uncle can play a song of any kind (no matter how flat it may be)

I wondered what family time will be like when the oldest generation are gone. Music has been the backbone of my family - the link that brings us all together - the commonality besides what runs in our veins.

Crime and Sin

2009-04-10T12:30:00.000-07:00

I'm reading a book, "Shantaram" by David Gregory Roberts.
It's the story of David's life as an escaped convict who exiled himself to Bombay, India.
India has always been a country that has fascinated me, and I have dreams of living in an Ashram and spending my days in meditation and asana. There's a quote from the book that has really struck a chord with me and I wanted simply to share it.

"Wherever you go in the world, in any society, it is always the same when it comes to questions of justice. We concentrate our laws, investigations, prosecutions, and punishments on how much crime is in the sin, rather than how much sin is in the crime." ~ Gregory David Roberts

Take it all into you

2009-04-04T15:51:00.000-07:00

standing in the water ankle deep
the waves were brushing up past my knees
I held my skirt in my hands
my camera dangled around my neck

looking out to the horizon
ocean blues blurred together until they reached the sky
where the colors danced their way to infinity

I opened my arms
and breathed in a long slow breath of salt laden air.

'close your eyes.' he said

the wind softly whispered in my ears and combed the hair around my face
the sun's fingertips touched my skin and reflected life onto my eyes
the water kissed at my legs as the salt stung against my skin

'When I stand like this - it's like I can feel the entire ocean moving into me.' he said.

the yoga of life

A Poem

2009-03-28T11:59:00.001-07:00

Don't surrender your loneliness so quickly
let it cut more deep

let it ferment and season you

as few human or even divine ingredients can

Something missing in my heart tonight

has made my eyes so soft.

my voice so tender

my need of God

absolutely clear.

~Hafiz~

If you dig deeply

under the layers of your skin

into the knots and twists of your heart and soul

what are your fears?

Take fear to dinner

Romance it

Dance it

(a little salsa never hurts)