Saturday Reflections

♥ Went to the gym this morning...my first time on my new membership.  Took an "abs plus" class...I'm not sure what the "plus" is in this class but I realized how truly out of shape and out of condition I am.  I went with my friend Elizabeth though we might as well call this "Lucy and Ethel Get Fit" -- I had to stop part-way  through the class because of my knee; Elizabeth pulled a muscle in her calf.  As we hobbled out of the Fitness Studio we agreed to meet again on Monday at noon to try the BOSU class.  Sounds good -- something with two balls....we're up for that!

*image from the internet

♥ No Halloween for me this year.  I'm tired, I've done my time.  I love the little ones all dressed up and love handing out candy (and eating as much as I hand out).  I saw two darling princesses this morning as I left the gym, entering the complex for a party.  My children never dressed as princesses or fairies...then again, they're boys and I'd probably have done a double take had they asked to be that...I'd have done it though.  Why not?  No pumpkin and no candy purchased and instead we're going out for dinner.  I hope all the little trick or treaters will have fun and stay safe.

♥ Finished reading "Her Fearful Symmetry" and my final decision on that?  Didn't like it.  Just not my area of interest and I never ever felt anything for any of the characters.   The ending of the book?  I'd figured it out before I reached Part Two and even then I felt no sense of "aha" victory.  

♥ Thinking about my decision regarding packing in The Joy Diet and some of the comments that have been left.  One thing I have learned over the years is to listen to myself.  That I know myself, my limits and my needs.  In the past I'd have pushed on for the sake of pushing on.  Just like with my fitness programme...nothing is served by pushing to the limits and beyond.  Pain?  Being disabled from doing something else and for what?  To whom am I proving a point?  No one.  Not a single solitary person.  The one person I am beholden to in situations like this is myself.  Making choices is what it comes down to and I'm very good at making good choices for myself.  I like to sample things, to try things, to give things a fair shake before making up my mind.  And I'm reminded of something a very wise 2 1/2 year old said to me after enrolling him in a play class.  After 3 sessions he no longer wanted to attend.  I encouraged him to go, saying that I would like him to complete what he starts so that he doesn't grow up learning to be a quitter.  Can you imagine???  What was I thinking saying that to a 2 1/2 year old!!!  His response has stayed with me and I discovered that we do learn from our children...he told me that he didn't want to be a quitter but asked me to "please just find me something better."  And that is "it" in a nutshell folks.

I'm Not Pavlov's Dog -- No Treats For Me - The Joy Diet

I've come the end of the road with Martha Beck's "The Joy Diet".  There are still four chapters after "Treats", but after reading the chapter on "Treats" I know that Martha and I must now part ways.

I've stated before that not every self-help book is right for every individual.  I think that Martha Beck's approach works for a great many people, a great many people have probably already been helped by her through her individual counseling and her books.  It's just that I'm not one of them.  Our philosophy is different and while I keep an open mind to different viewpoints and differing ways of looking at the world, ultimately the decision to continue or not is mine.  That's why I believe in cognitive therapy over behavioural therapy.  Martha and I have come to the old "fork in the road".

According to Martha it is important to treat ourselves for good behaviour.  "Every day, give yourself at least three really good treats, one for every risk you take, and two just because you're you.  No exceptions, no excuses."  I understand the concept of rewarding good behaviour and that repetition of this reward will ensure that the behaviour becomes automatic.  It is how we train animals who do not have the ability to think.  Psycholgist B.F. Skinner was the champion of Behavioural Psychology.  I was not a believer in Skinner's theory when I was a student and my thinking hasn't changed over the years. 

I follow the philosophy of Aaron Beck who believes in the cognitive approach to change via how we "think" about our actions/reactions and how we can modify our behaviours accordingly.

Without getting into a great deal of psycho-babble, suffice it to say that for me, taking risks, identifying my desires and moving forward so that this becomes part of my life instrinsicly is going to happen (and has already happened) when I shift my thinking from "I'm hopeless", "that will never work", "I'll never become successful" to "I'm talented", "this is going to work" and "I have every reason to consider myself a success".  If I think it and begin to believe it, changing my attitude and how I view the world and myself, I have chosen the healthier psychological option. 

Do I need to treat myself to things that make me smile every time I take a risk? Do I need to ding a bell to say " I made that scary phone call!  Now I can play with my paints!"  I don't think so.  I much prefer to make the scary phone call and feel good inside that yes, I tackled something I felt was once an obstacle.  And I don't consider doing the things that make me happy, make me smile to be "rewards" or "treats".  I already consider them to be vital aspects of my life.

So, no more Martha Beck for me, though I'm glad I went back to this book and looked at it more thoroughly.  My response is my own.  I don't recommend the book and I do not condemn the book. 

And joy?  I realized that it's been with me all along...for quite some time.  I really don't need to look any further.

Final Thoughts for Pink Thoughts Thursday

With this the final Thursday to share Pink Thoughts, I saw my drying hydrangea as the ideal image for my thoughts today.

Life is short no matter the age we reach in our final count.  We will all leave this earth and these bodies that we know.  That is the reality though not a reality that we are usually happy to contemplate.  Some of us may know what the cause will be, some of us may be taken by surprise.  Some of us who have been diagnosed with breast cancer may die of a heart attack or because we have been in an accident.  Those who love us will be able to say that we did not die because of breast cancer.  Many others will lose their lives to this disease.

I'm thinking today of a young man of 13, a child really.  A local boy who passed away this weekend from complications of swine flu.  A family and a community reeling in shock and the very same reality I'm speaking of -- that this life as we know it will come to an end with the final chapter a mystery until the moment that it happens.

My thoughts today centre on the message I have been absorbing and living my life by over the last 4 years.  Life is short.  We have no idea when the end of our book will be.  Live each day as it comes.  Live in "this" day.  Learn forgiveness and acceptance.  Smile and laugh every day. Cry if something makes you sad.  Be a blessing in someone else's life and allow someone else to be a blessing in yours.  Be kind and share your love.  Love is meant to be shared.  It may not be returned where you send it -- send it anyway because you never know where it might land that it was needed and intended to be all along.

Don't waste one precious moment of any day.

A Little Beauty on This Rainy Day...

Ladybug, Ladybug, fly away home....

Captured this little creature yesterday morning, around 11 a.m.  Practicing with my camera, using different aspects...I was pleasantly surprised by this shot!

These outside photographs were taken minutes apart on the same bush...

This was the lovely I had stepped outside to photograph...who kept twisting in the wind, making it very hard to capture...

These delightful birds can be purchased here...

Up Before Dawn's Early Light with an Eerie Book...

Up before the sunrise, sipping my first coffee of the day and listening to nothing but the hum of the refrigerator and my fingers as they click and clack along the keyboard.

Making lists of things to do, ideas, disturbing dreams, hopes and dreams, small reachable goals (and some that are rather potentially unreachable...but thinking them is such delicious fun).

Reading this book.  While not being one for "fantasy" or "fantastical" or "science fiction", every now and then I will read a book that allows me to remove all the barriers to "what is" to "what might be".  I felt that way a few years ago when I read Audrey Niffenegger's "The Time Traveler's Wife".  Having enjoyed it so much I eagerly anticipated Ms. Niffenegger's next work, "Her Fearful Symmetry".

It's odd and dark.  Eerie. I don't particularly like the cover (it looks more blue in this photograph -- the book I have is more of a metallic green), although it certainly "fits" what you find between the covers.

The characters are rather empty and difficult for me to imagine or create from their descriptions, save for Martin who seems to come to life on the page.  I'm only into the second part of the book and I will finish reading it.  There is something that is drawing me further into the story to discover how it will end, to see if it will "go" where I think it is headed.

This is the perfect time of day for reading this book -- dark outside, just a little illumination from the lamp beside the sofa.  I'll curl up with my aghan and my coffee to discover what lies ahead for Julia and Valentina...or the Stepford Twins as I've begun to think of them.

Transformation

I spent part of Sunday afternoon playing with my paint. I spent part of Saturday buying more paint and gel medium, beautiful papers and thinking about the Christmas cards I want to make. I spent some time on etsy, marking favourites and making purchases. I love to buy handmade.

I have been enjoying all of my online classes...using my camera, writing in my journals, creating journal pages for art and painting on canvas. All of my teachers have been amazing -- Madelyn Mulvaney, Julie Prichard and Carmen Torbus.

I've found that playing with paint and putting my hands into the paint, smushing it around the canvas, dripping water over top, spreading, more smushing,  has helped me to tap into my creative muse who seemed to have taken a very long vacation and not even bothered to send me a post card!!

Remember this?

After Carmen's final lesson where she urged us to use all of the skills and techniques she had shared with us, this is what happened to that blue and yellow canvas after I flipped it around to use top to bottom....the colour is a little off -- the papers are more blue and there are more drips..hard to take a good photo in evening light...the second one is scanned rather than photographed...shows the colours much better

A Glimpse -- of Love, Rock Fairy Style

I am a rockette.  Not the New York variety, with the lovely long legs and the dancing shoes.  The ones with the fabulous stockings that manage to kick those legs into the air in a magnificently synchronized manner (though I do admit to doing an amazing rendition in my own living room as I belt out New York, New York...but I digress...).  No, I am the "average, ordinary, every day, run of the mill" rockette.  I've given myself this nickname and rather like it.  All because of the Rock Fairy and her gift of love, pouring out into the world.

The Queen of Arts, aka The Rock Fairy, aka Big Heart Walking has been pouring her love into the world for some time now.  She has written my posts about this but here is one blog post.  You can read about it here. 

Very recently, Patti Digh, authoress of Life is a Verb collaborated with Kim de Broin Mailhot to put even more of this love out into the world.  You can read about that here.

I hurried to order my bag of rocks (I'm sure at one time or another someone in this world has said that I was as dumb as a bag of rocks, but that's really not the same thing at all!  And of course if anyone has they have not done so to my face for it is most assuredly an untruth...) so that I could spread the love.  I so very much wanted to be a "rockette" (ah, now you are getting the picture!).

My beautiful rocks arrived in Friday's mail and I was tickled to open the bag to see what wisdom would come tumbling out.  I love the shape of "expand" -- it looks as if it has!  The day the bag arrived, it WAS the rainy day, and one of my favourites in this group is "do the hokey pokey" -- I loved doing the hokey pokey!!  I'm thinking of keeping that one for myself, however, I would very much like to leave them all into the world.

I began my quest on Saturday when I met my friend Elizabeth as we scouted local gyms deciding which one and which programmes would work best for us.  Elizabeth is a nurse by profession but she is a wife, mother, daughter, daughter-in-law and friend.  Elizabeth's life is hectic and busy and she rarely has time to stop and breathe or to do things for herself.  When we had breakfast last week I remember saying to her "slow down girl..." and then I found that very rock in my bag of treasure.

As we left the recreation centre yesterday morning, I told Elizabeth to hold out her hand and I placed this rock there and folded her fingers over top.  When she opened her hand, she said "is this one of those rocks I'm supposed to rub for comfort" -- I said she could rub it, put it in her pocket and look at it when she needed it or put it somewhere she'd see it every day.  Her smile and her hug spoke volumes.

I'm going to keep a log of where I drop my rocks.  Some will be very random, in places where whoever picks them up will be surprised and hopefully blessed.

Kim is still collecting and painting rocks.  I know she has many more to share.  Won't you join me in leaving a little love into the world?

Guest Blogger - Blogging for Boobs - Breast Bash

I'm the travelling blogger today....

You can find me at Talkin with Teenie's Breast Blog Bash where I am the guest blogger for yesterday, October 23rd.

Find my post here.

"I Dare You!" - Risk - Chapter Five of The Joy Diet Experience

Who didn't play "truth or dare, double dare, promise or repeat" as a child?  That game of thrill and suspense of what would you choose or what would be chosen for you...would you have the courage to accept the challenge?  Usually it was something silly, sometimes it was something dangerous that took you out of your comfort zone.  It wasn't a game my friends and I played often which for me was a good thing.  Timid and shy to some degree, I was always afraid that the risk wasn't worth the benefit.

This sign, "play at your own risk"...I've never thought of "play" as risk.  I've thought of play as something to do that brings enjoyment and pleasure, perhaps a challenge and some form of exercise both physical and mental.  I understand that the risk referred to is injury and is meant as a warning that the owner of the property will not be held liable for any accident or injury, that we take this upon ourselves.  As is only fitting.   Anything we choose to do is our own decision whether it works for us or not.  I would prefer though not to let the fear of injury deter me from the enjoyment of play.

Martha Beck talks about "risking" in her book "The Joy Diet" and recommends, "every day, do at least one frightening thing that contributes to the fulfillment of your desires."  I like the challenge of this.  I especially like that Martha believes "the criterion by which you should decide which dangers to face, and which to avoid, is not your chance of succeeding but the depth of your desire."  Every day Martha?  I suppose if following The Joy Diet was the only thing I was doing in my life, I might manage it once per day.  I think aiming for once per week is much more realistic for me.  As with any self-help work, whether through a book or a doctor, not every theory or every practice is right for every person.  It's important to know what will work for you and what feels right. 

Safety is paramount when risking (unless being a skydiver or mountain climber is the hearts desire...obviously safety precautions are taken but these are two activities where danger is part of the desire), and not creating or getting into situations that are dangerous is important.  Deciding your own comfort zone and working within that.  Common sense.

Martha suggests starting small and then working up the ladder with risks.  That makes a great deal of sense.  You wouldn't jump into the deep end of the swimming pool if you didn't know how to swim.  You would start by jumping into the shallow end and learning to float.  As you became comfortable with the water you would move toward the deep end.

I've started to risk again.  When I was a teenager, and in my early 20s I was quite happy to risk -- I loved fast rides, roller coasters, testing myself in many ways.  I had a button pinned to my purse when I was in high school that said "I'll try anything once, twice if I like it" -- a saucy, silly little saying and I really didn't try everything...I still stayed within my personal comfort zone, but I was willing to, as Martha phrased it, "walk into the monster's maw".  With each little success I would feel empowered to do more.

Then I became a mother and risk and daring were no longer options for me.  I packed them up in tissue with ribbons, awards, concert ticket stubs and all the other paraphernalia of my carefree teenage existence.

Breast cancer made me aware of my life...of time and of desires unfulfilled.  I risked with treatment, opting for chemotherapy -- pumping poisons into my body.  Side effects were a risk I was willing to take.  As I've moved back into the mainstream of life I am risking again.  Taking baby steps.  I want to write and to be published.  I have already created a zine as a fundraiser and it has been well accepted.  I feel that success and know that I want more.

One of Martha's criteria when making a risk assessment stayed with me because it was something I had first been exposed to many years ago in a psychology class at college.  It was important to me during cancer treatment and it remains important to me today.  This is something everyone is wise to ask themselves on a regular basis:

"At the end of my life, which will I regret more:  taking this risk and failing, or refusing to take it, and never knowing whether I would have succeeded or failed?"

 

*images found through google.com

What To Read - Pink Thoughts Thursday - Week Four

I read a lot from the time I was diagnosed until after treatment.  I read mysteries and I read books of spirit and inspiration.  I read books that made me laugh and I read fiction.  I read biographies to see how others had made it through this life.  I read a lot in my recliner in the Chemotherapy Suite at the hospital.  I'd arrive around 7:30 a.m. or 8:00 at the latest to get blood work done (always a crowd and the earlier you arrived, the sooner your results were sent to oncology) and then head to the cafeteria for something to eat and drink before settling in.  Back to the chemo suite for weigh in, blood results and blood pressure and off I'd go to "my" chair (it seems everyone ends up in a favourite spot), get my IV in and then settle back to read.  I'd pop up the foot rest, snuggle back (it was always cold in there and the fluids going into the veins was also cold too), wrap my sweater around myself (always brought that!) and make myself comfortable.  Lunch would be served around 11:45 and as much as I was grateful to have it, it always tasted like cardboard.  No taste buds left and the metallic taste in the mouth as the drugs flow through isn't exactly a happy environment for food.  Soon after lunch I would find myself drifting off to sleep.  The benadryl they give you to prevent allergic reaction was one of my favourite things about chemo.  My eyes would close and I'd just surrender to the feeling.

What I didn't read at this time was anyone else's account of cancer and their experience with it.  There are good books and there are books that are not as good.  Some of that comes down to personal taste, but I really didn't want to be overwhelmed with facts or someone else's journey.  I knew I needed this to be my own.  By the time I was finishing Herceptin I was ready to venture into the writings of others who had faced this beast.

This is on my mind today because of Suzanne Somers and her new book.  I won't even mention the title...it has the word cancer in it...because she is encouraging cancer patients to abandon traditional chemotherapy treatment and opt for alternative medicine.  Suzanne is dealing with cancer in her own life and from what I have read in the newspaper, she is going strictly alternative.  What strikes me as dangerous about this book is that she might very well sway others to this thinking...others whose cancer would be better treated with chemotherapy.  I am not an advocate for either or.  I knew what I needed and I followed my own beliefs.  I do believe that we can use other treatments in conjunction with traditional medicine.  I am a great believer in complementary treatments such as visualization, reiki, and other spiritual approaches.  I used some of these myself. However, I am not convinced that doing away with chemotherapy is THE answer and I don't know enough about alternative approaches to cancer treatment to speak about that other than to say that I am leery about it and question the validity.  I'm not saying that it isn't valid I'm saying that I don't have faith in it.

These are some of the books I read post-treatment that I found helpful.  I found myself in some of the writing and was ready to share the experience I had been through by hearing how others had coped.  If you are looking for some material for yourself or someone you know who has been diagnosed with breast cancer, these are some excellent authors and their work. What strikes me most about these books is that they have all been written by younger women.  The rise in the rate of breast cancers in women 30 and under is incredibly alarming.  What is in our environment? What effect is it having?  Perhaps it is time for a woman of more mature years (ahem) to put her own thoughts and experience out into the world....

 

 

Daydreaming of Modigliani with Connie Hosvicka

I want to share this wonderful video created by the very talented and inspiring Connie Hosvicka of Dirty Foot Prints Studio.

I watched this yesterday (more than once) and was transformed.  There was much in this that spoke to me on many levels.

 

Artsy-Fartsy....

I'll let my creative, "artsy fartsy" side do all the talking today.  My back is still stiff and aching so sitting for long periods (or standing) is uncomfortable.  I did manage to spend some time playing with paint yesterday and that felt good.  Simone had asked if I would share some of the things I'm working on and I'm happy to do that.

This is what I did with the blue and yellow paint...playing with blending and texture and making a mess with my hands...

 

 

 And I spent some time with the camera, working on a self-portrait for my "yes" class.  I really like this one -- it's out of focus and yet...it is me.  I am quite often "out of focus" and given the discomfort I've been feeling the last few days, I truly am out of focus.  This smile?  That's me.  And it's one of the best self-portraits I've taken in a long time where I know this is what I think I really look like!  The assignment was a self-portrait that describes who you are...this one did it for me.  I think mine is the only out of focus shot in the class and even that made me feel good!

 

These two pieces were from my first week working in Carmen Tourbus' Spill It class...I still need to decide which images I want to transfer to the canvases...

What's Happening in My World

Sometimes you take the bad with the good...

♥ - Started Madelyn Mulvaney's e-course, "yes!" over the weekend and I'm eager to begin following all the prompts.  Bought myself 3 lovely journals (one more expensive, 2 very cheap).  All will be used at different times.  There is something hopeful about picking up a journal that makes you feel good before you even begin the process of painting inside with words.  First photography prompt is a self-portrait...I have a few ideas for that!

*Golden fluid acrylics image from plaza art.com

♥ - I'm getting behind in my art journaling and my painting classes so hope to take some time this week to bring myself up to speed with what everyone else has been doing.  I did manage to find myself some new colours of paint on Sunday...Golden fluid acrylics in Permanent Violet Dark, Cobalt Teal, Quinacridone Violet and Cerulean Blue Deep.  Those I very much want to play with!

*Frida Kahlo 1931 - image from the web

♥ - Suddenly I seem to be fascinated with Frida Kahlo.  I have no idea why but I will collect the pebbles that take me through this interest until I know where it is leading me.

♥ - Since Saturday I've been dealing with a flare up of my neuropathy.  Sometimes it's just the one toe that is affected.  Sometimes it is the toe and the small of my back.  This weekend it has been both.  I cope.  I use over the counter pain relievers and the heating pad and I are never far apart.  Getting into and out of a seated position is difficult.  Using the car becomes extremely uncomfortable.  I'm blessed that this doesn't happen to me daily as many people with neuropathy experience.  It can be and often is extremely debilitating.  My neuropathy is a result of the taxol chemo I had in 2006.  I don't regret having that chemotherapy at all and as many others know, we sometimes have to make a trade-off in large, life altering decision making.  We give up something smaller for the good of the whole.

The Seasons Stay the Same...Nothing Else Does...

This photograph was taken 18 years ago...where does time go?

I realized in looking at this that not only have the members of my family been getting older...right before my eyes, so has the neighbourhood in which we live.

Many of the houses have gone through "face lifts" of new windows, new driveways, new roofs, new front doors, changes in paint colour or reapplications of paint. Cars have been upgraded to newer models. Families have moved out, new families have moved in.

The trees are older and while they still shed their leaves..there aren't as many of them as there once were.  The trunks are thicker, the branches thicker but also in some cases more brittle.

How wonderful to note that while the seasons come and go like clock work and they remain the same year after year, nothing else does in quite the same way.

Let's Go Ride A Bike...

*image from goodhousekeeping.com

As I collect my "pebbles" of desire a la Martha Beck and the Joy Diet, I keep coming back to bicycles.  I don't ride a bike, I have no history with bicycles but I have always been drawn to them.  I've decided to pay closer to attention to this desire and I've been placing the pebbles of my thoughts into a line to see where they take me.

I was great on a tricycle...3 wheelers were a breeze...up and down the sidewalk, turn in a driveway (and there weren't that many driveways on the street where I grew up) and head back the other way.  Ride like the wind.  Not so graceful me even fell off the tricycle a few times.  I had a lead foot then which I've apparently taken with me into adulthood (if the posted speed limit is 50k why not go 60?  and you'll be pleased to know that the hypocrite in me is alive and well as I constantly tell my son when he's driving with me "watch your speed"...of course I have the grace to avert my eyes and hang my head...).

My first bicycle was a hand-me-down.  Ah the hand-me-down.  How often do we use that phrase today?  Many of our children don't know the word hand-me-down and they are truly blessed if they do not.  But I suspect that there are still families where this tradition is alive and well.  When my boys were younger I was able to re-use sleepers, pants, shirts...but as they grew their shapes and sizes were so different it become impossible.  That clothing has (and continues to be) donated to charity for re-sale.  When I was younger my hand-me-downs came from my cousins.  I had no older siblings (and my clothes weren't able to be passed to my sister for the same reason as my own children) so with money tight, whatever my cousins were finished with came to me.  The day the bicycle arrived I was in awe.  And not a little frightened.

As this was a used bike there were no training wheels, and at that time I don't think anyone thought to see if such a thing could be purchased.  Again, money was tight...no one would want to spend the money.  So I learned the hard way -- trial and error.  That was how we learned most things when I was growing up -- trial and error.  No better way to learn anything in life.  That meant a great many errors (and bandaids) and sometimes shaken confidence.  But I persevered.  I lived in the city and I practiced on the sidewalks where I was fine.  Riding on the road?  That intimidated me quite a bit.  Add a hearing loss and shaky balance it wasn't a great combination.

The year I was 9-10 we lived in the country in a little town called Grimsby...it was the country then, now it's subdivisions and a thriving little metropolis.  There weren't many sidewalks in the area where I lived and during my grade 5 year the school was having an addition.  That meant we all attended school in shifts...the younger grades from 8:30 - 1:00 and the older grades from 1:00 - 5:30 p.m.  With the shorter days it was dark when I was coming home and so I rode my bike every day.  I had a basket for my books and I was quite happy making my way to and from school.  When we returned to the city, the bicycle was put away.  I don't believe I ever rode it again.  It didn't go to my sister -- she received a new bike - with a banana seat and high handlebars (mine was old-fashioned indeed!).

*image from istockphoto.com

I often think of France and bicycles.  I love the idea of women in their skirts, with a scarf around their hair, riding in the villages to the boulangerie, the epicerie, to the fleuriste to collect their needs for the day.  Perhaps a stop at the cafe for a cafe au lait and a croissant before heading home to prepare the meal.

So what is it about bicycles that appeals to me?  It's not the riding itself -- it's the quaint life; the life in the village; the slow pace.  I have an image of myself in a cottage, with a bicycle that has a basket as I go about my daily life.  I remember saying in the not too distant past that I would love a cottage near the water so that I could paint, create art, write and go about the quiet pace of life with joy.  And therein lies my heart's desire. Oh bliss.

While searching for images of bicycles I discovered this cross-stitch pattern which I love.  I haven't cross-stitched in years (my sister more than friend Lois still stitches and has just started her own blog!) but I have a strong feeling I will be making this.

*image from crossstitchworld.com

I also discovered this site Let's Go Ride A Bike and fell in love with this bicycle which is featured in the video below.  I felt such joy when I saw this little beauty!

Creativity - The Joy Diet - Chapter Four

creative soul journal page created by Sherry Smyth October 15, 2009

Using techniques I have been learning from Julie Prichard in the Super Nova Journaling class, and from Carmen Torbus in the Spill It class, I created this page for myself yesterday.  I had the painted page ready for journaling and chose to use images and words clipped from magazines rather than my own handwriting.

Creativity...I was expecting something other than what I found in Chapter Four of Martha Beck's "The Joy Diet".  I was expecting Martha to describe all of the ways in which I could be creative that would allow me to follow my desire.  That's not quite what Martha had in mind.  She was thinking more along the lines of creativity as failure; in doing something badly before you can learn to do it well.  That sums it up in a very tiny nutshell.

I like some the ideas Martha has to help obtain desires.  Some of them I am hard pressed to do.  For example, Martha suggests that we name our enemy (it could be one person, a group of people about whom you often brood).  Then we name that enemy's "evil deeds" as well as a list of enemy "traits".  Once this is done, Martha suggests that "the traits and behaviours that have been listed may be exactly the things you should incorporate into your own behaviour, in order to fulfill your heart's desires."  That makes sense to me on this level -- the things we dislike in others are usually the traits that we dislike in ourselves, or as Martha suggests, "that person embodies an aspect of ourselves that we are trying to incorporate or accept."  Perhaps.

I couldn't do this exercise because I have spent the better part of the last three years removing "enemies" and "dislike" from my life.  I looked at this exercise and couldn't think of a single person or group that bothered me enough to spend the time writing anything down about them.  Personally I think that's an incredible accomplishment.  So I passed on that exercise.

What I did take from this chapter on creativity is her last suggestion, to do one thing different.  Tapping into creativity can  happen in many forms and needn't be exactly the same for any two people.  If thought is blocked and ideas aren't forming, breaking out of the routine and changing patterns can help to shake things loose.  Martha suggests walking a different route to the kitchen, eating spaghetti with your fingers (this is why children have no difficulty delving into their creativity...my comment), walking the cat, etc.  You get the idea.

To get the ball rolling, for dinner tonight we shall dine on spaghetti a la "finghu". Right now I must go and borrow a cat...apparently it needs to be walked!!

Pink Thoughts Thursday - Week Three

Another week to share my pink thoughts with you, courtesy of Christina and her wonderful idea about Pink Thoughts every Thursday in October.

When it strikes, breast cancer affects a whole family, not just the person diagnosed.  This is true of any cancer but breast cancer lashes out at women more than many other diseases or types of cancer and if the woman has children, this affects the safety and security of their futures.  It matters not what age her children are, a mother is a mother for all time.  Children look to their mother as their rock.  I know that there are families where this is not the case and where there might be distance.  Fathers play a role in their children's lives, but it is the mother who has been the vessel for the birth.  She has been the cocoon, the incubator and home base from day one.  If the children are adopted, the mother may not have physically carried those children, but her heart is their home base and their nest.

Now tell those children that you have breast cancer.

Telling my boys that I had breast cancer was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Telling them something they didn't want to have to consider until I was an old woman tore at my soul.  We said nothing to them, their father and I when I was having additional mammograms and scans and nothing was going to be said until the definitive word had come back from the lab on the core biopsy.  I may well have known in my deepest heart that I had cancer but I didn't want them to worry about tests and results until I had something concrete to share.

It was emotional for all of us.  At 17 and 13 I knew that they were old enough to understand and I felt blessed that they were not small children.  I think that would have broken my heart into pieces.  The 17 year old had just studied biology in school so he had an understanding of cells and their abilities and malfunctions.  At 13, the younger couldn't see beyond the word "cancer" and naturally assumed I was telling him that I was going to die.  Perhaps even that day.

There were tears and there were many, many conversations over those months.  My children saw me cry, they saw me get angry and then they saw me pick myself up and say "lets get on with this!"  When they wanted to, I took them to see where I was going, to meet doctors and to give them a mental image of what was ahead for me.  What children can "see" there is less opportunity for them to worry about.  I rallied and they rallied and we carried on with life as usual.  Our activities didn't change, my commitments didn't change and I know that this helped everyone to give cancer the smallest seat in the house.  We never made it feel welcome and we found many things to laugh at about it.  The word cancer was used, never "hushed up" or hidden away. 

I'd wear my wig to go out -- and the minute I hit the door at home, I'd peel it off and toss it on the bench in the hallway.  Very casual and we all became comfortable with mom's bald head.  So much so that I'd forget, answer the door to their friends and after their initial reaction I'd remember I had nothing on my head.  And the boys' friends would tell me not to bother...they were cool with it. 

Remember to talk to the children and the spouse of anyone who is going through cancer.  There is a tendency for them to be ignored, forgotten or left to fend for themselves.  Sometimes people are afraid to ask them how they are coping or feeling but it's good for them to know others care and that they are still vital to the family unity.  I would check in with my children on a regular basis to gauge their emotional level, just as I would do if I had never known cancer.

Honesty.  Truth.  Emotions.  It's important to share all of that with your children when this happens.  Open communication is the key to all good relationships.  Always.  In every circumstance.

*pink dahlia umbrella from omiru.com

Saying "Yes" to Desire

I've been following up with my Joy Diet work and thinking a lot this past week about desire.  About the things I want to do with my life ~ those things that keep cropping up in my thoughts and pulling me towards...???  Towards what I'm not sure. 

For one thing there are bicycles.  I feel this incredible pull about bicycles. I've been talking about them, thinking about them, seeing photographs of them...not racing cycles,  I'm talking bicycle with a basket...I don't ride a bike anymore, I don't own a bike.  But that's a topic to delve into on another day. 

Then there is photography.  I've been taken with photography since I was a child.  I love taking the photographs as much as I like being in them and whenever I had the opportunity as a child, I would pick up the camera.  If there was no film I would pretend to be snapping different things.  If there was film I was a little more careful so that I wouldn't waste any shots.

I remember once taking a photograph of the cement path at the side of the house. I was probably 5 or 6 and it seemed perfectly logical to me as I liked the way the cracks in the cement made a pattern.  My parents were rather puzzled as to "what" this photograph was until I told them.  Even then they didn't quite understand "why" I would want to take a photograph of the cement.  I'm not even sure I would have been able to explain it.  I just "did it" because it seemed the thing to do.  Children instinctively do what feels right without thinking about it or analyzing it to death.  I believe now that I had a creative vision at a young age.

When I was 12 or 13, I remember having my younger sister and my friend Diana pose in the backyard.  It was late winter, early spring and the trees and shrubs were stark branches. I had this idea that they would look interesting posed among the branches of the shrubs.  I posed first and had my sister take a photograph so that I could show them what I meant.  I'm certain I still have one of those photographs somewhere in my collection. I have no idea why I felt I wanted to do that, where the idea originated.  I wasn't reading fashion magazines and had never heard of Richard Avedon or Francesco Scavullo, but posed models was what called to me. True, it was rough and amateur, yet I know I had the bare bones of something in the making.

Annie Leibovitz

I've puttered with photography over the years and enjoyed the work of Avedon, Scavullo, Annie Leibovitz and Georgia O'Keefe.  I love reading blogs of photographers and looking at images in magazines for the composition, the colour and the subject matter.

Georgia O'Keefe

I'm not sure what this pull will tell me but I'm listening and on Sunday will begin an e-course with photographer/writer Madelyn Mulvaney called "Yes".    It focuses on journal writing and photography.  As soon as I saw it advertised I signed up without a moment's thought -- just did it. Like a child!  Usually I think something through by giving it a little time.  Not with this.  I followed my instincts.  And this line in Madelyn's description, "There is immense possibility in recognizing the beauty and wonder of our daily lives while allowing our desires  a stage in which to flourish and become real" ~ that sold me! I'm anxious to see where this takes me and my desire as I lift this "pebble" that will hopefully take me closer to my hearts desire.  Scribbling a note to self...ask for a new camera for the birthday or Christmas...

Domestic Violence and Abuse

t-shirt from zazzle.com

I hadn't realized that October is Domestic Violence Awareness month until I was reading Teri's blog the other day.  Please visit her blog to read this excellent and informative post.

Do you know the signs of domestic violence and abuse?  Do you know someone who is at risk?  Are you yourself at risk?

I was raised in a dysfunctional home situation.  I'm not unusual or special in that fact.  I am one of a great many sad to say.  I saw my father hit my mother once and only once.  I was 7 year old.  My maternal grandfather was visiting, he was also a witness to this and stepped in to the situation.  Alcohol was involved.  That is no excuse.  If I'm realistic I would say that it was probably not the first time my father ever used physical violence towards my mother and it was likely not the last. It was the last time any of us ever saw it happen.  But we were always witness to the emotional abuse which was also heaped on my sister and myself.

My father believed in corporal punishment.  I'm not here to advocate for or against spanking.  I do, however, speak out against beating.  I had more than my share of those.  Was I such a detriment to society, a difficult child who was willful and needed to be punished with beatings that left me so that I could not sit?  Hardly. No child is deserving of that.  I spoke up.  I was defiant against "orders" that made no sense.  I rebelled in my small way to let him know he could not, would not "control" me.  And he didn't like it.   Did the beatings when they came (and they weren't often, but often enough that they left lasting impressions) remind me to not rock the boat?  Of course not.  As I got older the punishments changed in ways he still felt he would be in control. 

My parents argued a great deal of their 19 year marriage.  There was more than just domestic abuse in the home.  There was child abuse as well.  Why didn't my mother leave?  Plenty of reasons and justifications on her part.  I look back at that time and wish I had been more aware of options, more aware that her excuses were simply that and at the bottom of it all was her lack of confidence and self esteem.  And the years with my father had taken their toll and worn down whatever sense of self she had had before they met.

The marriage finally ended and we all moved on.  Shattered, damaged and fractured emotionally.  I look back on my childhood and know that others must have been aware of what was happening within our home.  My faher had the ability to put on his "outside" face and I always thought others saw him as charming and entertaining.  Once the door was closed, the charm dissolved and the entertainment was how he could make his puppets dance.

They are all gone now my family.  My mother, my sister and even my father.  And here I am.  I learned how not to parent from the mistakes my father made.  I made sure that the pattern of abuse was stopped with my father and not repeated.  My sister had no children.  Feared that she might be a bad parent.  And this is the legacy that can be passed on when children are witness to and part of domestic violence.

Of interest to me was the fact that this weekend I read Jeanette Walls' "The Glass Castle", the memoir of her life with her alcoholic father and bohemian mother.  Neither adult wanting to take responsibility for the care, safety and upbringing of their 4 children.  A nightmare of a life for each child, suffering neglect and abuse at the hands of the two people meant to love them more than life itself.  Two people who were more interested in themselves than their children. A disturbing read for me, yet one filled with possibility and inspiration of the ability to rise above.

If you know someone you suspect is a victim of abuse or you are yourself, please check these links which I hope will offer some resource support and hope.

Myths and Facts About Domestic Abuse

Canadian Women's Association - Shelter From the Storm

Safe Horizon - Domestic Violence and Abusive Relationships

Tip Card for the 10 Signs of Domestic Violence

Jewels and Survivors

A few weeks ago I mentioned that A Charming Exchange was going to be hosting an auction with proceeds from the sale going to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation.  One of the co-authors of the book A Charming Exchange (Kelly Snelling and Ruth Rae), Kelly Snelling is a fellow breast cancer survivor.  The book is wonderful...I love looking at each piece over and over.  Please take a moment to check the link to A Charming Exchange which will link you to the ebay auction.  Unique jewelry created in collaboration with others. For a good cause.  But please, don't outbid me!!!  I've already lost out on two pieces!!!

♥

Today is officially Thanksgiving here in Canada.  I have much to be thankful for - my life, my health, the lessons I have learned through having breast cancer.

My friend Daria shared this video on her blog yesterday and I knew after watching it that I must share it here.  It is 7 minutes, almost 8 in length, and well worth watching.  Please take the time to watch this moving video.  It is truth, it is poignant, and it is magnificent.
 

A Glimpse of Friendship

Hands raised, palms together.  A refreshing glass of something sparkly...a little pomegranate juice, some pineapple juice, soda water and an orange slice.  A tease and a taste as we wait for our meals to arrive.  This is a familiar pose for me to see across a table when I spend time with my friend Colleen.

Lunch with one of my dearest friends last week.  Colleen is the friend you can call for a quick chat, or a laugh to raise your spirits. Laughter in any conversation is one of the main ingredients of our relationship. No matter the kind of day she is having, she rises above it with a smile you can hear in her voice.  A busy woman working alongside her husband to make their business and their living the success that it is, running here and there with her four beautiful children not just to make sure they arrive where they are meant to be, but sharing in their lives and their sporting activities as a support and the moral guidance when the game or the day hasn't worked out quite as planned.  A loving daughter and a delightful sister, Colleen is a woman who has made family a priority and knows that with love and laughter life is a wonderful adventure to be savoured.

Colleen and I have known each other since our children were very young, however, we came to our friendship only recently within the last few years and yet I feel as I have known her forever.  She is the woman who will introduce herself to someone who is a stranger and makes the person feel valued, welcomed and known, a stranger no longer.

I'm giving thanks for many things this Thanksgiving weekend.  One of the pleasures I have is giving thanks for having welcomed this wonderful woman into my life and for Colleen inviting me into hers.

Feasting...

centrepiece created by Leah McCall ~ posted at HGTV.com

It is Canadian Thanksgiving this weekend and because of other commitments, we'll be having our family meal tonight.  Turkey and trimmings.  I'm the only one who doesn't like turkey but I cook it for everyone else.  It smells heavenly as it cooks, filling the house with a warm, savory aroma.  It does nothing for my taste buds.  I fill my plate with vegetables and always make sure to have quite a few varieties.  I'll graze on appetizers and of course I'll leave room for dessert!  I have a recipe for a delicious apple crostata which was shared by Christina, we'll have pumpkin pie and I'll add a small cake since it was my mother-in-law's birthday during the week.  Plenty for everyone to sample and then there will be leftovers.  Best part of any celebratory meal -- the leftovers!  And there will be, as always, much to give thanks for.

♥

Please head over to my friend Charlie's blog where she is hostessing a giveaway you won't want to miss.  Winner will be chosen October 17th -- get on over there now and check out her fabulous art!

♥

The Super Hero zine for breast cancer awareness is selling well and to date it has raised $184.00! (*edited at 10:00 a.m. to say we are now at $192.00 with thanks to Deidra! ♥)  There are still copies available here.  Many thanks to those who have purchased a copy.  Feedback from those who have purchased the zine is most appreciated.   If you are interested in reading a review of the zine, please check Rita Vindedzis' blog.

Finding My Hearts Desire - The Joy Diet - Chapter 3

image from finding your hearts desire.com

Wanting what we want.  Knowing what it is that we want.  Being able to fulfill those desires...small and large.  Being able to determine what is a "false desire" (one that tastes of fear) and what is a "true desire (one that always tastes of love). How we banish our desires and sabotage ourselves so that we are unable to realize our hearts desire.  Martha Beck takes us through Chapter 3, helping us to "access and interpret the yearning that is always leading you toward your right life."

I've been struggling for some time to be able to pinpoint what it is that I "want".  I have so much and yet I have never really been able to achieve that longing for "the" one thing in my life that will fill that space I am meant to call destiny.  In reading this chapter, I realize that I am a saboteur of great proportion and that I "inoculate myself against disappointment".  I have been conditioned from a young age to not "want".  Therefore, I have no idea "what" I want or how to even hear within myself what it is that is calling to me.  I know it's there but finding it is like fumbling around in the dark, looking for my glasses.

When I was a child, one of my father's favourite things to do was disappoint.  It was really a control issue but at 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, even 10, I really didn't know that this was a "game" to him.  There would be talk of a trip, a vacation perhaps, a weekend somewhere,even just a drive in the country to get a pumpkin.  Simple things, certainly not anything that was a life long desire.  But this learning about disappointment has to start somewhere.  Plans would be made and there would be eager excitement on the part of my sister and myself.  The day of, it could even be an hour before we would be scheduled to depart, my father would simply announce "we're not going."  No reason given.  He'd decided.  No conversation.  If we cried and pleaded it would just be worse.  The disappointment and the heartache, not to mention the tears were crushing.  What I didn't know then and certainly wouldn't have been able to understand, was how much pleasure he took in doing that.  By the time I reached my pre-teen puberty I'd figured it out.  The only way to "play this game" was to pretend that I didn't care.  I didn't get excited about the conversation and the planning.  I feigned complete indifference bordering on disdain.  If the plans came to fruition, lovely.  If they didn't, no harm done. I'd learned how to protect myself from "wanting".  And in doing so created a wall that closed me off from desire.  What a twisted, warped way to live and how many years wasted that I might have been achieving and fulfilling my biggest dreams.  I seriously doubt either of my parents realized life long dreams.  Given the environment we lived in that would have been next to impossible.

That was many years ago and I have had no contact with my father who is now deceased, for my entire adult life.  I realized the other day when reading through this chapter and doing the "work" Martha Beck has identified as helpful, that I am now parenting myself to some degree.  I have allowed that voice to stay in my head and whenever I think about the possibility of fulfilling a big dream, I talk myself right out of it and allow that earlier knowledge of disappointment to cloud my vision.  Holding this key has given me the insight I need to understand the "why" and the "how" of so much.  It's only necessary now for me to silence that inner parental voice and turn the key towards realizing my own destiny.  I must unlearn what I know so that I can learn something new.

My concern is, of course, will I know when I see it/hear it/feel it?  Martha suggests asking yourself, silently, out loud or in writing, "What do I want most right now?".  Sometimes the answer comes quickly.  Sometimes desire can be a vague, unclear yearning.  Remaining silent and giving my heart time to unravel the knots I have created, to tell me its story, to tell me what it wants is opening the window and clearing that vague fog to allow me "in" to my heart so that I can hear its desire. Something worthwile and joy filled I look forward to discovering. 

Pink Thoughts Thursday - Week Two

brooch made for me by Carolyn Lodge

When I think of the word "survivor" I think of "survive" and then I immediately think of Gloria Gaynor ~ "at first I was afraid, I was petrified..."...which is why that tune is playing today...it's on my mind!  "I will survive".  Something I decided the day I was called about my mammogram.  I decided that no matter what this "calicification" turned out to be, I would survive.  I don't know many people who have been diagnosed with cancer who wouldn't say that.  Throw us a rope or a life preserver because by all that is Holy, we will survive!

Most often I call myself a thriver.  I'm here to enjoy life, to live it to the utmost, to not squander opportunities, moments, experiences, relationships -- the whole shebang.  Surviving is what we intend...thriving is what we do.  There is such a vibrancy and buoyancy to thriving that encompasses a vast range of emotions, moods and thoughts.  I love the sound of the "thrugh" sound...and I add a little trill to the "r" and I'm "ttthhhrrriiiving".  It is such a complete and utter thrill to the tongue. 

Being given a breast cancer diagnosis was like a great big dusty boot aimed right at my large backside and with one swift kick landing smack on the target I was rudely awakened from my slumbering existence.  I landed flat on my derriere and knew that I wasn't going to stay down for the count.  Like a coneflower I was going to bloom again..and again and again.  Perennials are like that.  Rugged.  Sturdy.  Often blooming in less than optimal conditions.

Cancer stinks.  It truly does.  Cancer is serious, yes sir, it most certainly is.  But oh my goodness, I have  learned to be a little irreverent towards cancer and I've experienced some of the best laughter of my life throughout my journey with breast cancer.  I'm rather cheeky about it at times and I've reached the point that I can look back and truly appreciate the funny bits.  And bless my soul, the laughter has been some of the best healing medicine I could have dosed myself with.  And others.  I count the times that I have been able to make others laugh around this some of the highlights.

Here's a tip.  Don't treat anyone you know who has cancer with kid gloves.  Don't pussyfoot around and treat them like a fragile object.  Everyone loves to laugh.  Those with cancer especially want to be reminded that they are thriving and that they are still part of the life that is going on around them.  Keep them in the circle, open your heart, open your laughter.  Best gift you can ever give. 

And speaking of gifts, my gratitude to Carolyn for creating this lovely keepsake for me.  I'm blessed indeed.