Where is our sanctuary? Where is that space we all need to both find strength and peace? With all the teachers, the methods, the gifted, the people from other dimensions, ascended masters, time travellers, aliens, television and book stars, reincarnated, psychics, shared secrets, special diets, sacred forgotten practices, dreams, special drugs from the rainforest . . . why are we still so lost? Do you know where your sanctuary is?
“Sanctuary” and “Asylum” have become exchangeable words in our ever maddening stampede to dumb down the entire English language. The difference between the two is one of those slight shadings that manages to take a word and deepens and enriches its meaning. “Asylum” is what we seek when we are running from something. It is a place where the protection from that something can be much broader than a finite space and has varying degrees of power – often put in place by power. We are “granted asylum.” “Sanctuary” is more something we seek out when we are looking for something. It was originally intended to mean a religious place but the element of “safety” was eventually added to it and some of its meaning was lost and certainly confused. “Sanctuary” as a spiritual place where we might feel safe suggests that we should seek a religious place that has been created for such a purpose, or a place in nature where we can feel that spirit. It might even be provided by a special shrine or place we create within our home where we go to practice our spiritual endeavours. It refers to a specific contained space that creates a state of being.
Much of what has been presented to us as spiritual or religious has moved the whole journey from being an inner one to being one that engages and involves the outside world. We surrender our self. It has been perhaps, one of the most effective attacks on us as spiritual beings because it has put other people and things in control of our own connection. Continue reading
Every spring on the prairies there were a zillion “teas” like we were supposed to be impressed that we were throwing off the heavy blankets of our strong coffee winters and embracing light and airy tea because nothing says spring like “tea.”
I mean it is not like we didn’t have cute little farm animals being born and pretty flowers blooming in the fields and even young men and young women getting frisky but oh my gosh … spring … tea … you get the connection right??
But we had many, many, many, spring teas. There were many. One such tea was the annual “Strawberry Tea.” They obviously were building on the “let’s throw words and concepts together that have zero connection or meaning to what we are doing” concept as I don’t ever remember there being any strawberries anywhere . . . not in the tea and not in the cakes. Strawberries don’t even grow in the spring! But we pretended.
We were women and we were all going to pretend that we all knew what we were doing and why it was happening. Women do that well. Look how we breeze through puberty and do the whole getting married, having babies and stuff. None of us has a clue what any of that is about but we fake it and we look good while we fake it. We had been snowed in for weeks. We had all lived for most of those weeks with layers and piles of clothing – much of it flannel and serviceable and some of it really tacky with mismatched patterns. Perhaps that was more to the point of why a spring tea … because it meant we could take off the flannel underwear, put on a pretty frock and let our pasty white legs feel a little sunshine. Continue reading
It’s another hilarious blog post: The Australianadians And A ‘Van Named “Fluffy.” : New Blog Post
“Day 3. Big Australia Trek – Heading North”
#theinsanitycontinues #greynomadsAustralia #funnyarious blog post:
How come men will never stop the car to let you go to the bathroom?
Negotiating pee breaks is like negotiating world peace. Utmost diplomacy must be used and proper wording is crucial. There must be ceremony and goodwill fostered – gifts exchanged – before the two parties sit down at the negotiating table. Big things are at stake here.
“Are you planning on stopping for gas soon?”
“Um OK. “Hungry?”
“How far to the next town?”
“I could use a washroom, you know, when it is convenient to stop.” I smile hopefully.
I try again, “You know, like if you happen to see a rest stop along the way and it is easy to pull off … I am not desperate yet or anything, I am just trying to give you good notice that I will need to stop in the next hour ok?”
“Ya sure, we can see …”
I have considered just saying “OK.”
…and peeing on the front seat … Continue reading
Katelyn Nicole Davis (Dolly) 12 years old. She shared her heart with us, wanting some reassurance, and we showed her the ugliest part of being human – that part within humans, where they believe that everything is a competition and that they can only win by making sure someone else loses.
How does a 12-year-old make the decision to end her life and do so, exiting out of it with a string of apologies for letting everyone down? What did we expect from her? How could her life come and go and seem to mean so little to this world? Such a beautiful, sweet girl. Look at her. How fitting is her nickname of “Dolly?” Most of us will feel terrible about this little girl committing suicide and we will look at the actual people who did this to her in a “them” and “me” type of lens, but we all contributed to this and the many other cases of bullying that goes on everywhere. Continue reading
1. Have a firm handshake.
2. Look people in the eye.
3. Sing in the shower.
4. Own a great stereo system.
5. If in a fight, hit first and hit hard.
6. Keep secrets.
7. Never give up on anybody. Miracles happen everyday.
8. Always accept an outstretched hand.
9. Be brave. Even if you’re not, pretend to be. No one can tell the difference.
11. Avoid sarcastic remarks.
12. Choose your life’s mate carefully. From this one decision will come 90 per cent of all your happiness or misery.
13. Make it a habit to do nice things for people who will never find out. Continue reading
Good Bad Any Home – 10 Billion Butterflies.
Queensland has a butterfly swarm going on right now. Millions of butterflies are in the skies as those from further west are heading our way in search of food.
Every time I step outside it literally feels like I am stuck in one of those over the top, entitlement obsessed weddings where the bride and groom are not allowed to move without there being an entourage of people to move the dress, a harp and stringed instruments to background the whole thing, and butterflies or doves being released.
One could argue that a swarm of millions of butterflies is much nicer than a swarm of bees. I would argue that at least with a swarm of bees death is a real possibility. This has been going on for days. I constantly have people telling me there is something in my teeth and I have to remove a butterfly wing or even a leg or arm … Continue reading
Our memories are emotional snapshots of a single moment in our lives. They may evolve around events, people or places. We take those memories and we colour them with years of handling and layering with bits and pieces of detail and meaning.
Those memories that make us yearn with an aching need to recapture what once was, cannot ever be found again by simply returning to the scene of the snapshot. It has nothing to do with a place or even really the people. It has to do with the emotions we felt in a moment during the journey of our life. Often, the very process of trying to recreate what was, shatters it forever. Somehow the idea that we could return is a greater comfort than the failed attempt to do exactly that.
Going back leads us to stand in our past. What we saw and knew as a child is often explained. The magic is lost and our own growth and understanding lend shading and depth to it that we see now because we have matured and are now capable of understanding. The huge tree we used to climb almost to the sky, where we would sit for hours, is actually a pretty average old tree of no real consequence. Our first kiss can never be re-experienced because everything in that moment was coloured with the sensory overload of new emotions. The very air we breathed seemed full of promises and all the hopes and dreams of our expectations and imaginings not only heighten our interpretations of the event as it happened, but also as we thought about it later. A first kiss from someone we loved is very different from a first kiss from someone we are not at all attracted to. The difference is not in the kiss, it is in the meaning we attach to it. Those layers of meaning are not real in the sense that they exist independent of our producing them and applying them to the event, and they are not static. Continue reading