oops ...

Hi everyone!

I understand some of you are having trouble accessing the song, Joy, from the last post. I've changed the link to the YouTube version so you should now be able to access it through the last paragraph in the December 13th post.

Sorry for the difficulty.

Cheers, Jan

When Christmas Hurts...

I think there must be something wrong with me,

Linus. Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy. I

don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel.

Charlie Brown

Hello, everyone,

Today has been a wonderful day of trimming the Christmas tree, decorating the house and baking the world's best ginger snaps (if I do say so myself!). These winter holidays are my favourite. I love the cold air and sparkling lights outside and the fire and coziness inside, the sounds of carols in the air and the visits of beloved family and friends.

However, for many, the holidays are not such a happy time. This week, for example, three of my friends and family are having serious surgery, one on Monday, one on Tuesday and the third on Wednesday. They and their families are stressed and worried.

When illness, trauma, loss, worry or chronic sorrow fill your heart, the light celebrations of Christmas and the other seasonal holidays can ring hollowly at best or sound a note of pure pain at worst. One of the hardest things about this kind of holiday suffering is that no one wants you to feel it - so family and friends do their best to "cheer you up". It's such a relief when the rare person comes along who will allow you feel exactly as you do without having to "fix"you. Such people are worth their weight in gold.

While checking in with a few of my favourite websites this week, I came across a young woman who, through her music, encourages others to feel their grief and sadness. Her name is Latifah Phillips of Page CXVI and she takes traditional hymns and spiritual songs and changes their words and arrangements to make them more relevant for today. Recently, she took a popular Christian children's song, "Down in My Heart", a typically "go-ey" tune as my husband used to say, and reinterpreted it as a melancholy reflection of pain and grief, written in a minor key.

The dissonance of the song's usual cheer and her own sad arrangement seems to bother her a little for she adds a new refrain:

I can't understand
And I can't pretend
That this will be alright in the end. 

But then she goes on to end the song with a verse from the old hymn, "It Is Well With My Soul", a song of acceptance and trust in the face of suffering. She seems to be saying that even in the midst of great pain we can still find joy. And even when we can't seem to find anything to hope for, we can anticipate that peace will come eventually.

So, I invite you to take a listen and allow this new song, Joy, to companion you through whatever sadness is present this winter season, whether it is the pain of secondary traumatic stress, the grief of losing a family member or friend, or the chronic sorrow of living with a loved one's unending illness or injury. (It's not particularly my style of music - I'm more a Mozart, Schubert or Abba type - but I like Latifah's idea of juxtaposing the happiness of the season with many people's true emotions.) May having your sadness acknowledged in a musical way bring you some peace.

Share A Secret - Support World AIDS Day ...

Started in 1988, World AIDS Day is not just about raising 
money but also about increasing awareness, fighting 
prejudice and improving education. World AIDS Day is 
important in reminding people that HIV has not gone away. ... 

Its time people treat the AIDS patient equally with dignity and pride and stop treating them like down-trodden people. This year, try and do your bit. If you cannot lessen their problems, do not increase them.

India.com

Hi Everyone!

Today is World AIDS Day and as you'll know if you read this site regularly, it's a day that holds a special place in my heart, having lost  Barry, a dear mentor, teacher and friend through AIDS a number of years ago.

One of the greatest barriers to HIV-AIDS treatment and support worldwide is the shame, secrecy and stigma associated with the conditions, even now in 2015. While things have improved mightily in some places since the strange, new and frightening virus first appeared in the 1980's, we still have a long way to go in countering the stigma that surrounds it. People in many parts of the world still keep their conditions secret from family, friends and employers, and even from their health care professionals, for  fear of being ostracized or worse. As a result, they can wait too long to get the treatment they need and the support they deserve.

While reading various World AIDS Day articles on the internet this morning, I was struck by a video by Prince Harry introducing his hashtag #FeelNoShame Campaign. Prince Harry, who founded, Sentebale, a charity in Lesotho, Africa for the support of vulnerable children fighting extreme poverty and the ongoing HIV/AIDS epidemic, challenges us to take a step toward breaking the stigma of HIV/AIDS by sharing a personal secret on social media in exchange for his.

The power of shame lies in secrecy. When we take our courage in both hands and honestly admit to something that causes us shame, we break its hold on us and we open the door for others to do the same. So, why not join the movement of brave people sharing their secrets today and do your bit to counter the shame, secrecy and stigma of HIV/AIDS?

(And, for those of you who would like to go even further with your support, please remember that "(RED) Partners" (Apple, Starbucks, Coca-Cola, Le Creuset, dre, beats by dr. and others) will donate 50% of the profits from (RED) products to the Global Fund HIV/AIDS to provide life-saving antiretroviral medication to pregnant women around the world. Ticketmaster and Live Nation have also partnered with (RED). November 9th to December 20th, the ticket sales companies will display a (RED) button on their websites, allowing patrons to donate $10.00 during purchases.)

Thank you to each of you from each of us who has loved someone with HIV/AIDS.

When Disappointment Strikes ...

We must accept finite disappointment,

but never lose infinite hope.

Martin Luther King, Jr

Hi everyone,

When was the last time you felt disappointed? Disappointments are emotional experiences most of us could do without, even though they seem to be a persistent part of life. Several people I know have experienced significant disappointments in the past month, including myself.

A young friend, scheduled to have surgery for a painful gallbladder condition last Friday, developed a skin rash and the surgery had to be cancelled. Friends travelling in Borneo found that they had to quickly revise their plans when the smoke of the Indonesian fire season and an active volcano cancelled flights and, thus, their dreamed-of boat trip to Camp Leakey. Another friend, recovering from surgery for a heart valve problem, has not seen the improved exercise tolerance he'd hoped for. And, after all my talk about looking forward to being "fed by my senses" while on Vancouver Island for the Thanksgiving weekend, I spent the holiday at home in Burnaby with an aching back after being rear-ended by a hit-and-run driver.

Disappointment. The dictionary says it is the feeling of sadness or displeasure caused by the nonfulfillment of one's hopes or expectations. It disorients us, floods us with sorrow, triggers anger and frustration and uses up energy and focus that could be channelled in more productive ways. If we hold on to it, disappointment can also make us physically or emotionally ill through creating chronic levels of stress.

Some disappointments are predictable and preventable like those that occur when we hope that someone will do something for us but then neglect to tell them what it is that we want. Other disappointments, like my friends' cancelled trip to Camp Leakey, are totally unavoidable. It's important to be able to differentiate between the two so we can respond appropriately.

And how DO we best respond? 

If the disappointment is unavoidable, there are a few things we can do to help us arrive a place of greater peace and acceptance of the unexpected happening:

1.  Treat the disappointment as a small (or large) death - the death of an expectation or a dream. Give yourself permission to grieve that death and fully express your feelings, whether sorrow, anger, guilt, fear or envy. Express them to a trusted friend, write about them in your journal, pray or meditate about them, use expressive arts to release them,  consciously process them through physical activity or see a therapist to work them through. You may find that you feel a little worse to begin with but keeping your feelings buried can cause them to fester so it's usually good to give them room to surface. 

2.  Exercise self-compassion -  Allow yourself to recognize how hurt you feel and treat yourself with all the kindness and compassion you would a friend in similar circumstances. This means avoiding harsh self-criticism or taking responsibility for circumstances beyond your control. It also means asking for whatever support you need to process the experience  

3. Make positive meaning from the situation - I'm not one of those people who believes that "everything happens for a reason" but I do believe that we can take any unfortunate incident and, ultimately, make some positive meaning from it. We can do this through intentionally altering our perspective and through taking in the good. (It may be difficult to see any good at the time of the disappointment, but for many of us, time, intention and perspective allow a glimpse of something life-giving in most unexpected happenings.)

4.  Don't give up hope -  My husband and I struggled with chronic disappointment over the years his heart failure followed its inevitable course. Again and again, we made plans for activities or visits with loved ones, only to find that we had to cancel them at the last moment because he was too tired or had chest pain or was short of breath. (Or that our loved ones had colds or flu and were therefore "off-limits".)

Rather than teaching us to give up hope and avoid planning, these experiences helped us to continue planning while adjusting our expectations. We learned that we would probably have to cancel 80% of the plans we made, but that to enjoy the remaining 20%, we needed to continue making those plans. (We also recognized that we needed to educate our family and friends so they could expect cancellations and have contingency plans in place to mitigate their disappointment.)

If, on the other hand, disappointments are predictable and preventable, they can provide an invitation to reflect on our patterns of attraction and behaviour so we can see what part we play in our own disappointments. Do we enter into relationships with people who are unworthy of our trust? Are we expecting outcomes that cannot possibly occur? Are we wanting something from someone who does not have it to give? Are we expecting more from ourselves than we can reasonably accomplish at this time in our lives?

All disappointments, whether large or small, can be opportunities to learn and grow - if we can open ourselves to that learning. While I wouldn't wish a disappointment on anyone just so they could have a learning experience, I'm sure there are sufficient disappointments in our lives to offer repeated opportunities for reflection and growth. No one wants to be disappointed but there can often be a gift in the experience.

What Makes Me Grateful ...?

... to live with ... eyes wide open, to breathe in 

the colours of mountain and sky, to know the sound of leaves rustling, the smell of snow, the texture of bark.

Jan Philips

Hello, everyone!

As Thanksgiving weekend approaches this year, I've been increasingly aware of, and grateful for, the gifts of my five senses.

Always a sensory person, I've been particularly aware of the richness of these gifts over the past few months. I don't know whether it's the glorious intensity of the tree colourings after this summer's drought or the experience of meeting the father of a young woman blind in one eye and missing much of the vision in the other or the photography course I've been enjoying since the beginning of September, but I seem exquisitely aware of my sense of sight and, by extension, my other senses as well.

I know it is my five senses that will provide me with the deepest refreshment this Thanksgiving weekend. Sight will feed my soul as I drive through wooded hills to the ferry, taking in the palette of autumn leaves and rocky cliffs rising high above the ocean. Hearing will fill my mind with CBC's North By Northwest  in the early hours, a playlist ranging from the Beatles to Mozart's Clarinet Concerto later in the day and two full days of precious conversations-that-matter. A heart-softening sense of smell will introduce me to the particular new-baby fragrance of a little girl who joined our extended family this week. Taste will sate us all as we enjoy an abundant dinner cooked and shared by many. And touch, found in the warm hugs of loved ones, will help to fill the empty spaces.

I don't know what your situation will be this weekend. You may be one of many working to keep us safe and healthy or you may be a family caregiver working 24/7 to keep a loved one comfortable. You may be surrounded and nurtured by loving family and friends or you may feel alone, exhausted and overwhelmed. Whatever your situation, may one of your five senses offer you, perhaps unexpectedly, at least one small thing for which you can be grateful this Thanksgiving.

Let me leave you with the Thanksgiving gift of one of Celtic poet and philosopher, John O'Donohue"s, many poems of blessing  - this time, a blessing for our senses.

A Blessing For the Senses

May the touch of your skin

register the beauty

of the otherness

that surrounds you.

May your listening be attuned

to the deeper silence

where sound is honed

to bring distance home.

May the fragrance

of a breathing meadow

refresh your heart

and remind you you are

a child of the earth.

And when you partake

of food and drink,

may your taste quicken

to the gift and sweetness

that flows from the earth.

May your inner eye

see through the surfaces

and glean the real presence

of everything that meets you.

May your soul beautify

the desire of your eyes

that you might glimpse

the infinity that hides

in the simple sights

that seem worn

to your usual eyes.

 A very warm and Happy Thanksgiving to you all!   

Jan

Statio for the Fall ...

Now and then it's good to pause

in our pursuit of 

happiness

and just be happy.

Guilaume Apollinaire

Hi everyone - Happy almost-Fall!

I took a picture of this sign on a hot, sunny July afternoon at the far end of Kahshe Lake in Northern Ontario. It was nailed to a tree on the bank of a narrow river between two lakes, reminding boaters to  S-L-O-W  D-O-W-N so they wouldn't cause the owner's boat and dock to dance together as they passed.

"Dead Slow, No Wake", could also be a reminder to slow our pace as we begin to multi-task our way through the fall. Taking opportunities to slow down a number of times a day, can help us to stop the automatic flow of life and to pause in the "now". The Benedictine monastic tradition has an age-old spiritual practice known as statio that can help us to do that.

Statio can be thought of as a moment-between-moments, a pause between activities. (You might think of it as a threshold or a mini-transition point between finishing one thing and starting the next, a pause  that offers brief gifts of rest, awareness and possibility.) This place between is a place of slowness, stillness and mindfulness where we can intentionally let go of what came before, pause, and then move fully and mindfully into whatever comes next. We take the time to become fully conscious of what we've just done and what we are about to do rather than moving automatically and thought-lessly on to the next thing.

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, Benedictine Oblate and online Abbess of Abbey of the Arts,  a virtual monastery based in Galway, Ireland, suggests practicing statio by pausing intentionally at the close of each activity. Every time you change from one activity to another, pause and deepen your breath for five full cycles of breathing. Allow yourself to truly notice and feel the ending of one activity, the pause and the beginning of something new. Try it for yourself over the next 24 hours and notice of how it feels. What was it like to finish? Were you able to welcome and be fully present to what was coming next? Could you rest in the pause?

These tiny windows of awakeness and awareness, experienced many times a day, allow us to become more fully conscious and, as a result, more fully alive. They offer us a space in which to pull together the bits of ourselves that may have been scattered through effort and activity, a moment of integration before beginning again.

May the practice of statio add presence and richness to your life this fall.

Be Touched By Beauty ...

In difficult times,

you should always carry

something beautiful in your mind.

Blaise Pascal

Hello, everyone!

I'm back to posting again after a wonderful summer vacation filled to overflowing with beautiful moments like the sunrise above.

Sadly, not everyone has been as fortunate. Many of you have had to work long hours the summer through, whether as professional care providers or family carepartners, filling in the gaps as others went on vacation or services were cut back. Others have been devastated by the effects of the wildfires that continue to burn throughout the country. (I can't even imagine what it would have been like to try to provide complex care at home while waiting to be evacuated at a moment's notice.)

When circumstances such as these cause us to become exhausted and depleted or when our hearts are broken open by grief and uncertainty, we can find ourselves unexpectedly supported and uplifted by beauty.  We can be deeply touched and calmed by the artistry of nature, the vitality of the fine arts or even the beauty of an ordinary day.

At some of the most difficult times in my husband's long illness, we were gifted with an exquisite awareness of the beauty around us. Whether looking at the diamond dew on the grass outside the bedroom window, listening to the strains of Mozart's Clarinet Concerto, reading the poetry of Basho or gazing at sun-infused jars of red plum jam sitting on the kitchen table, intentionally focusing on beauty invariably lifted our spirits and brightened our days.

Celtic poet and philosopher, John O'Donohue, wrote in his book, Beauty: The Invisible Embrace -

There are times when life seems little more than a matter of struggle and endurance, when difficulty and disappointments form a crust around the heart. Because it can be deeply hurt, the heart hardens. ... Yet though the music of the heart may grow faint, there is in each of us an unprotected place that beauty can always reach out and touch.

He goes on to say that how we look at things makes a huge difference to what we see. We need to "beautify our gaze", to be ready to glimpse beauty anywhere, so we can see life in a new and vital way. When we beautify our gaze, the gift of hidden beauty becomes both our joy and our sanctuary.

We now know that perceiving beauty affects brain physiology as well as our emotional hearts. A study by Professor Semir Zeki at the University College of London in 2011 found that when uninitiated people were exposed to the art of Old Masters like Constable, Rembrandt and Monet, blood flow to the parts of the brain associated with pleasure and desire, immediately increased up to ten percent - a reaction similar to falling in love!

So, how, then, can we begin to "beautify our gaze"? First, by opening our eyes and ears to seek out loveliness in all we see and hear. Then, by taking the time to savour that beauty, to be with the experience and to let it sink deeply into our hearts. When we follow this practice, it is as though we sensitize ourselves to beauty and, thus, open ourselves to it even more.

Of course, there may be times when our surroundings seem distinctly un-beautiful, despite our beautified gaze. In such cases, we can actually carry beauty into the landscape with us. I recently came across a postcard of an 18th century painting called Winter Landscape that I carried with me as a bookmark during the last years of Derrick's life. I often spent time in doctors' offices and hospital waiting rooms gazing into that peaceful scene. The beauty of the rural winter sunset transported me, with no effort at all, to the peace and calm I'd experienced in evening landscapes like it many years past.

Beauty is both a joy and a sanctuary but sometimes we can forget to open our eyes and ears to perceive it.  So, why not take some time today to intentionally, "beautify your gaze", to allow the loveliness of something around you (no matter how large or small) to touch your heart?  Do it several times and see what a difference it can make to your outlook.