Art Inspired Yoga

The curator of our community's newest art gallery, located in a modern building, collaborated with two local yoga teachers, resulting in their co-hosting of a unique yoga class in this inspirational space.  The intention was to encourage participants to contemplate the works present in the exhibition, thereby broadening their approach to each posture.  The first event, which took place earlier this fall, was so well attended that a second one was offered this week. Well, the creative energy in this big, open room certainly enhanced my practice, giving me the opportunity to experience another 'first'.  During Tree Pose, a balancing posture aided by the use of a drishti point (focussing one's gaze on a particular spot), my gaze fell upon a large picture hanging directly across from me, on the far side of the room. It was a muted image of a wood framed window, with a white blind drawn down over it. While holding the pose, I soon sensed the smells of a musty, old classroom, which reminded me of my brief substitute teaching stint that took place in Lonsdale Elementary School in September 1978, my one and only foray into subbing.  As I made my way out of Tree Pose, I made the connection - this gallery sits on the property where that same school, built in 1910, sat until it was torn down a few years ago.  After class, while chatting to the curator, I was told that some of the original school beams had been incorporated into this new building, which houses school board offices, as well as the art gallery. When I took a closer look at the picture, there was no reference to a school but it sure was a wonderful, unexpected new experience to smell the past and be propelled back into this memory of my twenty-one-year-old self.  Later, while writing this post, I discovered that another meaning for drishti is "vision" - how lucky to have embodied both meanings that night.

Photo credit: Gordon Smith Gallery

The Weather Gods Come Out to Play

Today, we awoke to a beautiful fall morning - cool and sunny, with a few clouds thrown in for added interest.  My husband had planned on spending the bulk of this day prepping for a dinner party we are hosting this evening, but when I returned from my run in the canyon, he was up the ladder installing the outdoor Christmas lights.  I joked that this was a first - he normally waits til it's cold and sleeting to do this job.  He replied that he had decided to take advantage of the great weather and asked if I could help.  While holding the strands of lights for him, I looked up to the sky and saw two magnificent eagles flying overhead - they were out enjoying this perfect fall day as well.  A minute later, I felt a light drizzle, even though there was blue sky above us. That drizzle soon turned to hail, along with a noticeable drop in temperature. I burst out laughing - there was no mention of hail in today's weather forecast.  It seemed that the weather gods were playing a joke on us.  Within five minutes, the silliness had stopped and the sun was out, once again. Unexpected moments of joy - they're the best.

Feeling the Love in Hawaii

These past two weeks have been incredibly nourishing, relaxing, and overflowing with love  - two of the best weeks of my life.  Months ago, when one of my daughters suggested we all go on a family vacation to Hawaii this year, it was an easy sell.  The last time our family had spent extended holiday time together was when the kids were in their teens. So on November 1st, off we flew.  En route, it did come up that this would be a bittersweet experience since the circumstances would also bring a heightened sense of our loss.  However, we knew that the joyful energy of the two little ones would be a wonderful asset.  And I reminded my family that there would be obvious signs from Michael denoting his presence, and indeed, there were many.  

Our first morning on the Big Island happened to coincide with my birthday. When I awoke, I lay alone in bed for a few minutes, gazing out at the palm trees before joining everyone downstairs.  The waves of sadness were eased with the overwhelming gratitude I felt to be starting my new year in such an extraordinary way.  Later that afternoon, while our grandchildren were napping, my husband and I explored a nearby ocean side trail which wound its way over black lava rock, with chunks of dead, white coral scattered on either side.  Minutes into our walk, I was overjoyed to see the first sign: a heart-shaped piece of coral lying in the middle of the path. 

A little further along, we discovered numerous heart outlines, perhaps fifty, or more, created with white coral pieces, most containing words or initials inside.  I could hardly believe my eyes - I had never seen anything like it.  The white hearts looked gorgeous against the backdrop of the black lava and I wondered if I would see K & M, but did not. We were approaching the end of the trail which opened up onto a small, sandy beach and were about to ascend the stairs leading away from the shore when I saw it - a huge, black lava heart outline lying in the sand, about 2 metres high, containing the letters MJG!  Michael James Gibson.  A poignant birthday present.  Since I was without a camera, I planned on returning the following day to take a photo.  After walking a ways along the resort path, we turned around in order to follow the trail back to our townhouse.  When we were back at the top of the stairway, we looked down and saw a couple who were rearranging the initials in the heart beside "ours"  to make it their own.  They had a phone and when asked, happily agreed to email me a photo of the heart containing MJG.  They joked that it was a good thing we came along when we did, otherwise "ours" might have been changed as well.  It had not occurred to me that these hearts were in constant flux and indeed, the following day, MJG was gone. 

Midway through the trip, it was the large, cheeky turtle marked with the number 13 (a resident of the Honu family inhabiting the popular bay we were snorkeling in)  playfully hip-checking a unsuspecting male snorkeler, that made me smile.  Michael had had an affinity for turtles, and his favourite number was 13.  

And on the final evening, while standing on the shore, watching the most magnificent sunset of our trip, all of us laughing as my granddaughter splashed fully clothed in the waves, we took up the offer of a fellow tourist to have our family photo taken.  While posing for the shot, I was filled to the brim with love, and missed my son deeply.  Just as the picture was being taken, my heart melted as I realized that the song being played by the musicians behind us, at the beach restaurant we had just left, was Somewhere Over the Rainbow, one of the three songs played during Michael's service.

This family vacation has been two full weeks of feeling blessed beyond belief.

Numinous

Numinous, a word I now know to mean, "having a strong religious or spiritual quality; indicating or suggesting the presence of divinity".  A recent addition to my vocabulary, I was introduced to this word via a book I read this summer, Opening Heaven's Door.  Considering how much I have explored the topics of spirituality and divinity, how had I never come across this beautiful (both in meaning and sound) word before?  At one point, while reading the book, I had stopped to check the exact meaning of this word in the dictionary. Soon after I resumed reading, the author made reference to a neuropsychiatrist named Michael Kelly. Really?!  Five minutes later, the house phone rang.  Not recognizing the number on call display, I was tempted to ignore it but then decided to pick up.  A male voice asked, "Is Michael there?" I asked what it was regarding and he explained that he was calling regarding the ad for garage space rental.  When I pressed, he told me he was calling the number shown in the publication he had.  We double checked, and sure enough, it was our telephone number in the ad.  I explained that there had been a Michael at this number but that he had died over three years ago.  After some investigation, I discovered that there had been a typo in the telephone number listed, off by one digit from the correct one.  No garage rental, and no shortage of numinous experiences. 

Reaching for the Stars

Exactly one year ago today, my paper child was launched into the world.  At that time, I made a commitment to myself that I would do what I could to get this book out to as great an audience as possible. With the ongoing support from family, friends and community, slowly but surely, it is happening. During the first year of its life, Diary of an Intuitive acquired a distributor, was placed into retail locations, listed on Amazon, mentioned in articles, entered in prominent competitions, sent to acclaimed authors, sold at markets, purchased by public libraries, and donated to various organizations. Like the figure on The Star tarot card, I will continue to reach for the stars.  After all, I also have some great support from up there.