A process for getting through a day...

“At least it’s Friday,” a teacher once said to me, “Anyone can get through a Friday.”

What this meant to me? Soon we will have no responsibility for anyone but ourselves, soon we will not have to answer to student, parent, administration or peer. And…bonus!…we don’t have to rise on Saturday morning to return to this environment.

I, a parent of many, responded with a polite smile. You don’t know my world.

In my world back then, Friday meant the beginning of a weekend of compromises– child and teenager needs vs. family and parent needs. These negotiations had a huge impact on the quality of my life in the moment and on the quality of my relationships over time. Many adults advised: Let them do what they want or Just say NO! I did not listen to the adults. I listened to the young adults and children. I offered compromises.

I asked myself:

  • What do we lose when we decide we will not listen? We will not compromise?

  • What is the quality of our relationships when we decide we are giving up?

  • or decide we’re going to say NO, over and over, until the requests stop coming?

“My indigestion is caused by the process, not the outcome, by the limited perspective, not the outcome. ”
— me, today

I woke to news today of a teacher’s strike ended by government order, not negotiation. My stomach has been a-jumble with the first sip of coffee.

I’m not surprised at the impasse, at the breakdown of negotiations. I’m not surprised at the decision by the government to avoid arbitration by invoking the notwithstanding clause– essentially a veto power given to provinces in the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, to be used in extreme cases. Renegotiating contracts with government employees (teachers) is not an extreme anything; it is a responsibility and a duty. Employees of the government are employees of the people. The government is employed by the people. The people have been patient with the government and the teachers, letting the process happen.

Will the people remain patient? How will the people respond? How will we get through this day??

The majority of our elected government officials and the premier of our province, Danielle Smith, has decided they can’t get through a Monday or any other day of the week or weekend without turning towards measures of authoritarianism.

In our province’s family, it appears Danielle Smith is either a Queen of Hearts from Alice’s nightmare– Off With Their Heads!– or a woman with her heart governed the powerful around her– Let’s see what will happen if we go beyond our power…if you take a hit, we have your back…

What havoc do we invite into our lives with the unwillingness to listen, to compromise?

“Whatever you hold, hold it lightly. Allow what is held to breathe, to communicate, to change and evolve.”
— me, today

Blue whale…songs/communication can be heard thousands of miles away…

Today I meditated with the sounds of a blue whale’s communication- a deep resonant hum, sometimes a fluttering sound (highly recommended strategy in a stressful situation).

As I listened and truly attended to the physical vibration in my ears and in my whole body, calm rose, concern lessened:

  • The stomach indigestion: a holding on and a letting go feeling (literally!) evened out.

  • The story of good vs. evil, of right vs. wrong, of fight vs. faint or flee began to fade.

  • This is the reality sunk in: we are in a cycle of push and pull, of force opposing force.

  • A sense of deep care emerged in the chest area.

  • Clarity arrived.

How to get through a day: A process.

  1. Await what wants to be revealed.

  2. Allow the information: bad news, good news, stomach ache, conflicting opinions/beliefs: don’t turn away.

  3. Accept reality: listen and hear and understand both sides of anything.

  4. Attend to the desire for balance. Take action from the place of deep care.

My attending action: I felt the conflict. I felt through the conflict. I talked to two teachers, one retired and one in the middle of everything. I heard their despair, their anger, their frustration, and their belief in the role of public education in a compassionate and wise society. I watched the process from the government’s late night session (a process which limited debate to only one hour). I sent letters from my heart. Letters of understanding the difficulty of negotiations at a time when it appears the easiest and best course of action is to act from a position of authority. Letters of understanding the importance of considering not just one year or four years into the future but decades, generations. I sent letters I believed communicated a deep level of care, for all concerned. I wrote this blog post. I am open to hearing any other action I might take to assist in bringing balance, equanimity, sanity to the reality I am living with…

Already I hear the voices of doubt and derision from both sides of the argument. This response is not strong enough. They will run right over you/us. We are doomed. We have no better options.

How do we calm the escalation of aggression? One human. Another human. Another human. Another human. All of us humans listening to blue whale communication, remembering our humanity. Re-membering our humanity.

The process for getting through a day may need to be shared far and wide. Thank you for reading.

“Balance. Balance. Balance. Balance.”
— me, today

Quiet Noticing. October 22, 2025

After the night of the new moon…

stars aglow. inner and outer reflect- the night of the new moon, a time of new beginnings.

I've been working with Zuza Engler each Wednesday to move and attend to the body in the presence of a small group over zoom. Here is my documentation of the body between sessions with Zuza.

The I notice process: move around for awhile in the morning and then, pause, reflect. Start a fresh page in the journal with I notice.  

Notice body, external environment, allow sensation, notice sensation. 

Let the rough draft be the only draft. No need to repair or decorate. Stick with what arises. Trust what arises. 

Here is today's documentation: 

I notice an ache in each of my hips.

A slight tension in the low back. In the jaw.

Now, a pressure in the forehead

I notice the ash and spruce hear 

a quiet music this morning- they do not

flutter or sway, groove or groan

in the wind.

I notice a sadness wants to emerge and

I reach for a familiar narrative 

but it swims

away...

...this sadness is like water, 

not wind.

I've been drinking it 

for lifetimes...

...as if my cells hold 

my mother's despair and 

my father's too...

and theirs held their parents...

...passed down...

...passed through...

here, now...

...sadness of separation from 

the mother.

I notice in my low belly

a sleeping dragon stirs.

She holds a pearl.

Dance, she says.

Dance, and this pearl will become

your disco ball.

I shift my attention.

The early light of sunrise

shades the mountains pink,

pink light frosts 

the underside of 

clouds...

...forming messages

I may read as 

love. 

I know a bearded dragon named Lola, she often speaks in my writing.

disco ball of light reflected, inner and outer merge?

so much beauty. so much.

Dispatch from April 9, 2025. Evidence of audio memo to text.

Dispatch from the field. Waxing Gibbous moon at 95%

Recorded last night:

A memoir can be written in a moment, in a moment so full of the record, the events you’ve lived that it requires verbs and nouns arranged in poems, sentences, paragraphs, scenes, chapters, prologues, epigraphs, epilogues, keening songs, happiness songs, epilogues and blessings.

It. The moment. The precipice.

A memoir can wake you in the middle of the night- say at 1:55 a.m. and say to you, “Now. It is time to write.”

A memoir can save a reader’s life, remind her what it means  to nurture by centering her heart on the page, in the kitchen, the garden, the forest, the ecology of her life. Perhaps she will consider, carefully, what she sets aflame and to remember, again, that each flame is a beginning. A gathering of kindling and a composition inside a ring of stones and a stacking of materials to add to the flame. And, when she is ready, she can strike flint to steel, light the tinder and breathe in love and breathe out gratitude.

  • A memoir can be a way of pacifying the ego or of telling the go- this is when we let go.

  • A memoir is a moment. A memoir of the moment.

  • No need for flashbacks. Indirect discourse encouraged.

__________

Venus is visible on the night of this dreaming. Venus is about love.

From Grief to Grace

__________

Dream last night- a life review- a photo album and experience of flow, all the times flow has been with me, blockages released, like black flies in the spring, hatching and moving on…

___________

What does it mean to listen to the field? To sense the field? To hear the cosmos seeking? To connect with the benevolent beings?

_________

Also visible in this night sky: Jupiter. Optimism, growth, abundance.

Dispatch from audio recording, Part 2

Dispatch on a memoir. How is writing a memoir an appropriate response to the way the world is today? What are key things that are pointers? Pointers from a radical trust in life? Question mark.

Hannah, the movie, A recognition of a couple of things. They are gone in a stream of thinking. And I know I will remember them when I need to. I am part of a field, and in the field is all the thinking. And I could just access it.

____________

Mars. Energy, drive, passion, determination,

I will try voice to text. I really love to be able to call out the punctuation and find it complete.

On fear, perhaps this whole book is about fear. It is about a moment when fear seems to have abated, and inside the gap between “what if I am punished for this" and “thank you for releasing me from my fear.” This is a space of uncertainty. Perhaps I will be punished in some way. Right now it seems, speech and freedom are not as secure as I believed they would be for the rest of my life. And yet, was that just a comfortable notion? Have I been carrying the fear of my ancestors, all my life, the fear, speaking out of telling the truth?

I remember a piece from the movie Hannah that seems important the Rinpoche hands her a note and just says with the right motivation, everything will be clear. You will have all you need. And she and her partner Ollie set out to do what must’ve seemed impossible many, many times. Why this movie? Why on the anniversary of an experience that helped me see the invisible?

Breathe in love, breathe out gratitude.

__________

These are all the notes from last night and in the middle of the night, awake and alert I thought, wow, all I need to do is open the channel and the words will be there. Now, I have a bit of doubt. They were pointers, a dream I became aware of… Possible, perhaps because I am making space in my life. Space for what wants to come in, what might be created.

D. Nicol yesterday talked about the sacred trees in Montgomery…the redwoods and how her let the prayers come into him and through him. He didn’t set out to pray. The praying happened. He wasn’t directed by a religious figure, he was called by the trees. How, over time, he understood the trees were not a metaphor but a literal guide. A literal understanding.

Notes:

  1. Light editing used to add to coherence.

  2. Hannah, the movie refers to a movie on YouTube about a woman named Hannah who followed a buddhist path and helped to widen the reach of buddhist practices to Europe.

  3. D. Nicols is a subtle activist. I meditate with a group of people most Tuesday afternoons, participating and engaging with a field of energy with an embodiment of peace, beauty, and love.

  4. Reviewing these dispatches have alerted to me patterns in my dreaming, my thinking and my energetic engagement with life. The anniversary I note refers to an awakening experience which occurred on April 8, 2021.

A Writing Experiment. Dispatch, November 20, 2024

Thank you to all the writers I’ve learned from and worked with, all the shared inspiration over this life and any other lives who are invisible to or unremembered by me.

I offer this experiment freely with the intention of inspiring you to connect with the inner you, the inner one who carries stories, who receives stories, who tells stories. Our energy follows our stories.

What story is at the center of the spiral? What stories form the form? The shell? The staircase? The plant? The DNA of our body? How is this writing experiment going to spiral out from here?

Here is a writing experiment I’ve undertaken with a several writing nests. I understand the thinking behind paywalls and protecting our work from being used, again and again, and not being compensated or paid. I appreciate the importance of reminding ourselves of the value of the gifts we share with others.

As you write, you may notice a longing for connection with other writers. Connection = being witnessed and witnessing.

I notice we contain multitudes. My identities include: writer, friend, forest walker, listener, work culture participant, ritual maker, plant communicator, canine nurturer, woman, intellectual, canoeist, creator with my hands, nutrition student, be-ing, grandmother, mother, partner, ex-many things.

Each of these identities is in relationship. Each of these relationships expands or contracts based on my participation. The ability to be present, to be both the observed and the observer, to be in a loop of reciprocity, a giving and a receiving, this is the place of practice. Sweetness might be here. Waves of emotion.

In our relationship with writing, we might feel pressure to achieve an expected outcome. In relationship with other writers, the expectations we have for an audience, for our own success, might recede into the background. We might notice the relationship of writer to words, of writer to writers, of words to words, is the presence we’ve been seeking. It’s the reality in action of being seeing and seeing another.

To write/create alone may feel safe. To write/create in a group may feel unsafe.

What do you want for your life?

Who do you want to be?

What kinds of experiences do you want to have?

What are you willing to invest in your becoming?