Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Under, Over, and Intertwined













     Over the course of the four hour drive up to the cabin this past weekend, my husband and I encountered almost every type of weather imaginable - heavy rains, followed by hail, then snow, wind, drizzle, and finally, sunshine. Most impressive was driving directly under three vibrant rainbows, in short succession, with the ends of the arcs seeming to touch down just off either side of the highway. And as we wound our way through scenic Manning Park, a trip we have made well over a hundred times, I had an aha moment: the ski and snowboard terrain within this provincial park is located in an area called Gibson Pass. My son's last name intertwined with that of his closest friend, in this beautiful setting. A wonderful symbol of the Gibson and Manning connection - how had I not made this observation before? Come to think of it, I cross a span called Rainbow Bridge when walking along my favourite trail in that park. Under, over, and intertwined ... weaving rich moments into my life.
Image credit: unknown
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Tuesday, April 21, 2015

A Shift in Perspective



















     As the countdown begins for the 5th annual Mike Gibson Memorial Golf tournament, the weight of the loss of my son begins to intensify. Last year, recognizing the emotional investment required to organize this event left me wondering how many more MGMG tourneys I had left in me. Most people would assume (as I would without this personal experience showing me otherwise) that as time goes by, the emotional impact lessens. It is simply not so. 
     Thankfully, last spring, while contemplating the situation, I began reframing the experience and adjusted my perspective, much like The Hanged Man in the Tarot deck. Were Michael still alive, I would have continued expending a great deal of emotional energy in our relationship. Now, instead of spreading it out over the year, outside of the obvious trigger dates, much of it is condensed into these weeks leading up to the tournament. Since I am still in a relationship with him, albeit on another level, I accept that my ramped up feelings are par for the course. Working on the MGMG tourney is a meaningful expression of our relationship and I embrace the opportunity to continue organizing many more.
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Monday, April 13, 2015

Miracle Log


     Serendipity, coincidence, happy chance event... words used to describe the small miracles that make our lives a little sweeter. Lucky for me, I experience them almost daily. Having a dream about a person I had not thought about for years, only to have someone else mention that same person the next morning. Looking for a small box of goofy sunglasses everywhere I thought it might be, then finding it later that day, within in a larger box marked 'small picture frames' which I had opened for an unrelated project of creating a photo wall. Receiving tickets, out of the blue, to a sold out event I had wanted to attend.
     One way to to help foster this awareness in children is to keep a Miracle Log available. I came across this idea while reading Spirit Games, a book by Barbara Sher. Whenever something serendipitous occurs, anyone in the family can log in by writing down what happened. It can also include the wish that preceded the event, if there was one. There seems to be a snowball affect - the more often these little miracles are noticed, the more often they appear. Keeping track of them can help bring children comfort and joy, and heaven knows, we all thrive when showered with frequent doses of both.
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Monday, April 6, 2015

Walk With Me



















     Easter Sunday's forecast called for sunshine, so my husband and I took the short ferry ride over to Bowen Island for lunch and an easy hike around the lake. We had already celebrated early Easter with a family brunch on Good Friday, so our day was wide open.
     The last time we had visited Bowen together was in the spring of 2010, during our son's six week stay at The Orchard Recovery Centre. For six consecutive Saturdays, my husband and I travelled there to learn more about addiction and begin rebuilding relationships. After one of those sessions, the three of us had used our free time to walk around this very lake together. It was a memorable afternoon because, for the first time in a long time, we were speaking to each other from the heart, which stirred up many intense emotions, negative and positive. That year, Easter weekend fell during Michael's six week stay there, so this was an added layer my husband and I were now experiencing.
     All the emotions and memories now being triggered was not something I had foreseen at all. Thankfully, a mantra soon appeared - Walk with me. During each long in-breath, I silently expressed those words, and with each long out-breath, I slowly released the air in my lungs. I repeated this cycle as needed over the course of the hike, visualizing Michael's spirit walking with us now.
     Later that day, while approaching the dock for the return ferry, I looked up to see a lone, majestic eagle fly in, very low, directly overhead. I overheard the young, native woman walking behind me tell her friend, "In my culture this is a powerful spiritual symbol. My grandmother will be so happy when I tell her about this." For me, this eagle's appearance was an incredible sign of support. This trip certainly became much more than I had anticipated ... it turned out to be the perfect way to connect with our son on this Easter Sunday.
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Monday, March 30, 2015

Mountain Pose

Practicing Mountain Pose upon a mountain top ... pure bliss.  A local mountain hosted a free event Saturday afternoon, consisting of a rainy nature walk, followed by a tranquil yoga class. After wandering through old growth forest, our group of thirty arrived at the mystical Hiwus Feasthouse. Once inside, we settled ourselves on the mats, which had been placed in a circle around the stone fire pit. After an hour of various yoga poses, it was time for Savasana. Smelling the cedar, hearing the silence, feeling the peace ... absolute perfection. While resting in this final pose, I recognized the powerful combination of the four elements of matter at play here. Lying grounded on the Earth, there was Fire burning in the centre, Water raining down onto the roof, and with each breath, awareness of Air moving in and out of our bodies. All this led to experiencing the fifth element, the one that exists beyond the material world, often referred to as Void or Sky. Pure heaven. Thank you Grouse Mountain and Yyoga for your generous gift of this experience. The exquisite setting, inspiring instructor, and lovely group of participants all made for an incredible event.  
Photo credit: Grouse Mountain 
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Monday, March 23, 2015

Sweet Dreams

     
     Dreams are precious gifts. The messages contained therein can prompt me to take action, provide more information about a situation regarding myself or others, and offer comfort and support.  Occasionally, I am asked if I still have dreams about Michael, and although I would love to have more than the two or three per year that I do, I am grateful for the ones I do have. A few nights ago, it was a short and sweet one, but the dream before that was quite long and involved. In both cases, they were very realistic and easy to understand.
     The lengthier dream of a few months ago involved my husband and I returning to our car after an invigorating walk around Stanley Park. After both getting in, he slowly drove in the car reverse, against the one way traffic pattern of the road. We encountered many vehicles but no one honked - they all accommodated us by moving out of the way. In the next scene, it is just my three-year-old son and me near an outdoor shower at the playground. He is only wearing shorts, ones that an acquaintance had actually made, and on his sweet face is the sweaty glow from running around. I soon realize that in all his excitement he has accidentally pooped his pants, and that he is feeling both embarrassed and upset. I calmly try to figure out the best way to handle the situation but the overwhelming thought is that I am thoroughly unprepared, and how disappointed I am with myself about that. (When my children were young, I was never without extra clothes, bags, snacks, you name it - however, in the dream I had absolutely nothing with me). After some consideration, I decided to take off his pants and have him stand under the shower. What a mess. There was poop everywhere - on him, on me. I looked around and finally found a stray plastic bag for his soiled shorts and was now literally carrying a bag of shit. As I stood there, I could feel how upset he was. He felt responsible for causing this mess. As a mom, I knew that shit happened, accidents happened. I just wanted to pick up my naked son and carry him back to the car but before I could do that, the dream was over and I awoke with the clear understanding of his sympathy. Through this dream, Michael was expressing compassion for having left me holding this bag of shit, even though we both know it was unavoidable.
     The shorter dream I had on Friday night was set in a dimly lit restaurant where our family was gathered for brunch to commemorate the fourth anniversary of Michael's death. I was seated alone at one end of the table, lost in my thoughts. Suddenly, I looked up and there was Michael, aged twenty-five, walking towards me, handsome as ever in his grey suit, green shirt and tie. He sat down to my right, handed me a Caesar cocktail, and simply said, "Here Mom."  (The only time I might order this drink for myself is if one of my kids orders one, but even then, rarely). And then, he was gone. I instantly understood that this was his way of showing support and I sure was glad to feel his presence. 
     Sweet dreams .... until next time. 
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Monday, March 16, 2015

Celebrations for Generations

Family and friends, young and old, came out to celebrate my grandson's first birthday yesterday. Such a lucky little boy! Within his extended family, ages ranged from his newest second cousin, born just last month, to the great-grandfather celebrating ninety-one next month. On this day, a snapshot of my grandson's family included his parents, sister, grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. This gathering reminded me that often, when we hear the word family, we think of a fixed group - usually, but not always, consisting of our living relatives. Of course, when we take a moment to consider, we know that family more accurately refers to a fluid group. We understand that family continually shifts with each gain and each loss. 
Leaping far ahead, if it is his destiny, in ninety years my grandson will be the age his great-grandfather is now, and it is quite possible that not one of my grandson's relatives in attendance yesterday will be around. Morbid thought? Not really. The love and support he received from all those attending the party will remain with him, always. And hopefully, all his future celebrations will be just as magnificent as this one was.
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Monday, March 9, 2015

Blue Roses













When I saw the blue ice-cream cake sitting in the freezer display through a cafe window, I knew it would be the perfect dessert for the family dinner we had planned for the fourth anniversary of Michael's death.  It would be last on my list of options for any other celebration, but for this occasion it would be perfect, since it reminded me so much of my son.  If most people typically chose A or B, he would usually opt for C, D, or even E, instead.  Why give a girl the more traditional pink or red roses, when the unnaturally dyed blue ones were beckoning with a wink?  Why concern yourself with making healthy food choices, when junk food, with all its additives and colouring, was calling?  So, on Saturday night, we each enjoyed a piece of this crazy cake in his name. And, if we needed a physical reminder of his sense of humour, we were all left with blue-stained fingers well into the next day. We love and miss you Mike!

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Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Relative Signs











     This past week was filled with incredible synchronicity, revolving around the two themes of communication and family of origin. The family that I chose to be born into has not been without its challenges, as is the case with most, if not all, families. Family is where so much of our learning occurs, offering great opportunities for growth. The circumstances in my family of origin led to our current situation, where neither my brother (my only sibling) nor I have had any contact with my father for over six years (outside of my son's funeral), the consequence of heartbreaking communication. Our mother, with whom my brother and I were close, died nearly thirteen years ago. Numerous signs flooded in this week, dancing over, and around, all of this - unmistakably powerful and incredibly supportive. 
     Early in the week, I emailed birthday greetings to a paternal aunt who had been a huge part of my life, before cutting off all communication with me, without explanation, a year and a half ago. I think of her often. About an hour after sending that email, I received a phone call from an unknown number. The caller turned out to be a woman I had met once, seventeen years ago, at a birthday party I had hosted for this aunt. The woman explained that she had been an old friend of my aunt's for decades but had had no contact with her for many years now, having been cut off without any explanation. She thought of her often and was contacting me to find out how she was doing. Crazy circumstances, indeed.
     A few days later, I was following up after a call I had made the week before to my mother's only sibling, my maternal aunt in Germany. I wrote her a card, enclosing a photo of her sister's memorial bench, as well as a picture of my grandchildren. She is the only relative I have long-standing, albeit limited, contact with over there. Our communication consists primarily of an annual Christmas card to each other, but for some reason, I had felt the urge to call her.  Later this same day, with the envelope lying on my desk, still waiting to be mailed, I received a Facebook friend request from a woman in Germany, a daughter of one my father's friends, not connected to my maternal aunt at all. The last time I had had any contact with that person and her family was during our family vacation to that country, eighteen years ago. Curious timing, for sure.
     Then, on the weekend, I stopped in at the cemetery, an hour's drive from home, to place flowers on my mother's grave. I only visit a couple of times a year now, preferring to adorn her memorial bench located in my neighbourhood, instead.  The actual date of this particular visit had no significance - I just happened to be out that way for a dinner date with friends. A short time later, my brother texted me, wanting to confirm the date of our mother's birthday. I fleetingly thought he was joking since he always makes a point of acknowledging our family birthdays. When I asked him about it, he told me that he had been thinking about our mom and had momentarily forgotten when hers was. A brief memory lapse required in order for this loving connection to be made.
     Individually, each of these three days had great significance. Taken in its entirety, the week was over the top, and made a huge impression. A colleague of mine refers to these signs as Relative signs, since they relate to what is transpiring in ones life. The fact that the Relative signs happened to involve my relatives, is perfect. Feeling immensely supported by the visible and invisible, I continue to process it all.

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Monday, February 23, 2015

The Trickster Known as Time


While resting in Savasana pose during my recent yoga class, I was hovering in that blissful state of in between - aware of my body, yet simultaneously experiencing my pure spirit form. While in this state, I always feel extremely close to my son. On this particular evening, as an added bonus, I was reminded of how changeable our perception of time can be depending on our situation, and I instantly understood why I needed this reminder.
There are moments in my life when I fleetingly wish it was time to leave my body completely behind and fully return to the realm of pure spirit because it feels daunting when I consider the possibility of living with the loss of my son for an additional thirty years or more. Ah, the trickster known as Time - it continues to play games.
When we are young, we often look ahead, wishing we were just that little bit older. The ten-year-old thinking that if only he were thirteen, how wonderful life would be - a high school student with no need for babysitters, along with permission to venture further afield with friends. The thirteen-year-old wishing she were sixteen, offering the independence of driving, as well as greater opportunity for part-time jobs. The seventeen-year-old looking ahead to being twenty-one, imagining free reign to fully enjoy the privileges that come with that age. In each of these scenarios, the space that exists between the current self and the future self looms large. Of course, as we age, our vantage point shows us just how fleeting each stage of life really is. To take it one step further, an entire lifetime, when held up against all the lives one has already lived and those yet to come, happens in the blink of an eye. Yoga and meditation, once again, lovingly nudge my focus to the present.

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Monday, February 16, 2015

Not Only Lucky in Love

Not only am I lucky in love, but within the past 24 hours, I received notification from three different contests that my name had been drawn. It turns out that I have have won a case of my favourite crackers, a new book from Goodreads, and two tickets to the upcoming Home and Garden show.  I am always so grateful for these perks, large or small, benefiting my body, mind and spirit.

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Sunday, February 8, 2015

Subtle Sign



Out for a run in the canyon this morning, I was replaying some of my past week's experiences of practicing the art of love. I am thoroughly enjoying awaking each day with the intention of expressing a conscious love connection.  A couple of minutes later, while running alongside the first parking lot, I noticed that the three cars parked there, in a lot designed to hold a dozen, were all bright red!  I broke into a huge smile. The universe was reflecting love energy right back to me. This seemingly subtle sign may not have had the wow factor of a four leaf clover or a departed loved one's initials in the sand, yet the results are no less powerful. When I returned home, curious about the odds, I investigated and discovered that less than 10% of cars on the road are red. Love it.

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Sunday, February 1, 2015

The Art of Love

Today is day one of the month associated with celebrating love. This year, I am fully embracing the theme by challenging myself to make a conscious love connection on each of the twenty-eight days in February. This will include celebrating romantic love, love between friends, maternal love, self-love, and brotherly love. It may take the visible form of a call, a card, a hug, a gift, a kiss. Or, it may be invisible - a meditation, a prayer, or one of my favourites, visualizing hundreds of tiny hearts raining down on strangers. Thank you February for inviting me to practice the art of love. 
Image: Johntex
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Sunday, January 25, 2015

Immensely Honoured

Upon checking my email yesterday morning, I was surprised to receive a save-the-date announcement for an upcoming wedding celebration. After reading it, I was overwhelmed with gratitude, to the point of tears. The message was from one of Kelly's closest friends. I knew that she and her financé were getting married this year, but had no inkling that my husband and I would be included in their celebration. A few months ago, I was equally surprised when we received a similar announcement from one of Michael's best friends, letting us know we would be invited to his wedding, being held later this year. I am immensely honoured that these young people have chosen to include us on their guest lists. To have the opportunity to join in the celebration, and bear witness to their formal declarations of love and optimism for the future, is such a privilege. I am sure Kelly and Mike are also looking forward to attending, and are already dreaming up plans on how to make their loving presence known at the weddings of these dear friends.

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Sunday, January 18, 2015

Supported and Cared For

As 2014 was drawing to an end, I considered what the energy of 2015 held in store, and I felt it would be a supportive and nurturing year, infused with a sense of well-being while held in the universe's caring embrace.  I made the assumption, that generally, this would translate into a softer, easier year for all. But, right from day one, I learned of huge challenges and upheavals in the lives of some of my family, friends and clients. At first glance, this appeared to be in direct contrast to what I had initially sensed, but upon reflection, I realized that their challenges present me, and others, with the opportunity to offer supportive and nurturing energy to them.  And so, even though many may not experience this year as softer or easier, hopefully we will all feel supported and cared for.

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Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Riding it Out

Not surprisingly, I find this to be a difficult time of the year. The anxiety begins to build before Christmas, carries on through the New Year's festivities, then follows me into this week, as well. Today is the 7th of the month, the day I routinely visit Boal Memorial with fresh flowers. In addition, in honour of Michael's birthday tomorrow, I had also brought along a balloon. The January visit also always involves packing up the little Christmas tree we decorate there in December.
Creating a gratitude list (it's a long one), practicing yoga, engaging in exercise, having family time, and reminding myself that living with challenges is part and parcel of being alive - none of these strategies completely relieve the sensation of constantly feeling slightly sick to my stomach during this time. However, after tomorrow, there will be a reprieve of sorts, and for that I am thankful. Until then, I will continue to ride it out. Tomorrow evening, our family will celebrate Michael's birthday with stories and laughs at The Old Spaghetti Factory, as we do each year. This time, when I called to make the reservation, I mentioned that it would be a birthday dinner. No doubt Michael had a good laugh at that, picturing us explaining to the staff that the birthday boy is indeed with us, but happens to be invisible. Oh Mikey, what a ride.
Image: LBD Group

Monday, December 29, 2014

The Gift of a Handwritten Card

When it comes to sending out Christmas cards, I'm old school - mine are handwritten and mailed. I still have some friends and relatives who do this as well, and it is always nice to receive their updates, along with good wishes, in the mail. Today, a card arrived from Canuck Place. In and of itself, this isn't that remarkable. My husband and I receive cards from other organizations this time of year. But this one was different - over the past few hours, I have reread it five or six times. Why? In addition to wishing my husband and I the best of the season, the handwritten message thanked us "for the contribution you have made over the years in memory of your son ... Mike!" Previous contact with the person who wrote it only consisted of a few emails earlier this year, with regards to the golf tournament. A cynic may say, "Well that's just good business." However, I say, "Thank you so much for taking the time to write this thoughtful card - it means the world to my husband and me, particularly when you refer to our son by name and add the energy of an exclamation mark." Personalized, handwritten messages - they can't be beat.

Friday, December 19, 2014

Candles Lighting the Way

This morning, I pulled out the mini Christmas tree and ornaments in preparation for tomorrow's family visit to Boal. It wasn't until I was out walking in the canyon, a short time later, that the emotions started swirling. I am thankful for this tradition we originally created to honour my mother at the cemetery, then moved to Boal after Michael and Kelly died. I know there will be some tears, that's a given, but there will also be a few laughs. And of course, there will be candles. Tiny, white ones clipped to the branches. Anyone who knows me well, knows this - I love candles. Surrounding myself with them is one of my favourite aspects of this season. There is something so pure and uplifting about candlelight. Earlier this week, while wandering through a spectacular garden light display, my husband and I paused to light two candles for Michael and Kelly, infuse them with good wishes, and place them side by side on a ledge in the rock grotto.  This Sunday evening, we'll be observing Winter Solstice with candles during the Lantern Festival in our city's classical Chinese Garden.  And over these next few days, when I recognize the need for additional grounding, a simple candle meditation will be in order.  Sitting cross-legged before a candle and with soft gaze, focussing on the flame. Visualizing the light making its way into my third eye and seeing the beam flow directly into my heart. Appreciating all the candles lighting the way, inside and out.
Photo credit: Two Wings

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Encouraging Messages

Working with the invisible continues to impress. After a long absence, I have stepped back into offering professional tarot card readings. By choice, I had not ventured into this arena since the accident, but I recently decided that it would be great to get out there again, so after making some enquiries, I committed to doing readings in a friend's store one day a week.  As it had been over three and a half years, I was a little anxious about how it would go, so I meditated on two themes of great importance when seeking connection with the invisible for the benefit of others - faith and trust. Also, in the early morning of my first day back, while walking in the forest, I humbly requested assistance from those in spirit to please draw near and bring their support to the readings.     
Well, it was a stellar day. Interestingly, none of the clients were from the area, none had ever stepped into the store, and to my knowledge, none had ever experienced tarot readings. However, all of them expressed feelings of being drawn in without having a clear idea of why they were there. During the sessions, numerous amazing connections were made, but the one that resonated most deeply with me involved the heart theme. When my last client of the day sat down across from me to begin our session, she complemented me on the tunic I was wearing and asked if I had, by any chance, purchased it from a shop located a short distance away. She referred to it as Get Blessed. I answered that I had, and with a smile, gave her the correct name, Get Dressed. We both chuckled at this Freudian slip. She said that on her way here, she had stopped in that shop and had considered purchasing the same tunic for herself, but in the end, decided not to. We then proceeded with the reading which turned out to have a strong love component. When we were done, she returned to the retail area and purchased a large decorative heart for herself. Before leaving the store, however, she walked towards me and presented me with a richly enamelled, metal heart, which she had purchased as a gift for me. Bright red, it fit perfectly into the palm of my hand, with just the right amount of weight. Hollow, this exquisite heart contained a tiny bell which rang sweetly when shaken. Across the centre, in white lettering, was the ♥ symbol along with the word YOU. What this woman could not have known was less than an hour before she arrived, I had picked up this exact piece and had felt a very strong connection. I shared this with her and added that I had considered buying it for myself but after some thought, had returned it to the basket instead.
I send a huge bouquet of love and gratitude to the invisible for the incredible messages of encouragement.  Clearly, I am on the right path.

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Modifying Traditions

The early snowfall last weekend prompted me to begin decorating for Christmas much earlier than usual. My enthusiasm was also spurred on by my husband and I stumbling upon a mom and pop shop carrying an eclectic mix of items, including a stunning, vintage aluminum tree. It was born in the 50s, as was our home, and the two of us. This shiny tree now adorns our living room, perfectly. If I were a betting person, I would have lost big time - I never, ever imagined I'd have an artificial tree, never mind one made of aluminum!  Growing up, my family would purchase our tree the day before Christmas, then decorate it with real candles during the afternoon, for our German Christmas Eve celebration that night. Later on, with my own children, our tree would be trimmed with white lights a week before Christmas. This year, our new-to-us tree has no lights at all, and was fully decorated on the first of December. Modifying our traditions: details of how we experience this holiday season change over time, but celebrating the overall joy of it remains.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

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

Saturday, November 22, 2014

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.

Sunday, November 16, 2014

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.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

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. 

Sunday, November 2, 2014

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.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Being Nurtured by Nurturing

                                                   

The need to be nurtured is not something I ever imagined I would be yearning for at this age.  It never occurred to me that a fifty-seven-year-old grandmother could still crave this kind of support.  And yet, I do.  It began the day Michael died, and has not subsided.  At times, I wistfully consider how nice it would be if my mother were still alive, to provide the comfort that only one's mother can.  A few days ago, this subject appeared in a meditation - I saw a huge, bright sphere of orange energy.  I was told that when I nurture others, I am contributing to this collective source of nurturing energy which flows in all directions, and is available for me to draw on for myself as needed. A give and take situation.  Not the same as having my mother physically present, but it will have to do.

Monday, October 20, 2014

A Dog's Unconditional Love Never Dies

Being open to connecting with spirit makes for very meaningful experiences, and when sharing the messages with others, it can be the messages that appear almost insignificant to me, that make the biggest difference in someone else's life. Last night, sitting in open circle, in a venue I had not previously attended, eleven of us (ranging from beginners to highly skilled psychics and mediums) spent the latter part of the session exchanging messages for each other.  When it came time to wrap it up, the facilitator asked us if anyone had any last minute messages.  I had already shared a couple, directed at specific individuals, but almost as an afterthought, I decided to share what I felt was quite a vague one. For a good portion of our session, I had noticed a mid-sized, short-haired, black dog standing between two women seated across from me.  Looking in my direction, this dog, with it's slight build, was part of our circle - smiling, eyes sparkling, tail wagging so furiously that the entire rear end was wiggling side to side. This animal was so happy, just to be here. I had been asking the dog to please move to the person it was connected to and help me understand the message it was here to convey, but the dog remained where it was, without any additional information.  As I was explaining this scene to the group, the woman seated beside me piped up, "That's my dog Molly." It turned out that her black lab of slight build had passed away a couple of years ago, at the ripe old age of seventeen, and that they had been the best of friends. Now, this woman was experiencing a difficult split with her boyfriend and had told the universe that her next relationship would have to be with someone who loved her unconditionally, like her dog Molly had.  The woman then showed me her ring and explained that it contained her dog's ashes. That is when I was absolutely certain this was her dog. She left feeling overjoyed and supported, and I left with another reminder that my job is not to judge the value of a potential message, my job is to merely pass it on.

(Photo credit: Tanya Palazzo)

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Courageous Choice

The concept of courage has presented itself numerous times over these past few days - shown to me in a meditation, discussed while walking with a friend, and presented as a online forum topic.  For those who make the conscious choice to continue embracing life, despite having challenging experiences thrown in our path, courage is what we draw on in order to keep angling our souls towards the light, rather than retreating into darkness.  In the face of ongoing pain or grief, making the daily choice to find joy and gratitude is an act of courage, requiring an enormous output of energy.  The return on that investment is the gift of a life worth living.

Friday, October 3, 2014

Showered With Riches

It has been a week of incredible abundance, with riches continually pouring in.
The gift of celebration: meeting up with classmates at our 40th high school reunion, most of whom I had not seen for ten years, or longer, engaging in heartwarming conversations.
The gift of shared meals: lunch with one side of our family, followed by Sunday dinner with my daughters and their families.
The gift of a sunny morning in Stanley Park, my granddaughter and I: experiencing the playground, beach, and Laughing Statues through the eyes of a two-year-old.  
The gift of guided meditation at ISA: gleaning powerful spiritual insights and enjoying the exchange of psychic abilities.
The gift of winning not one, but two contests I had entered: feeling lucky beyond belief.
The gift of culture: visiting several art exhibits, free of charge, all showcasing some fantastic works.
Being showered with such riches, in addition to those I am already so fortunate to experience daily, has made for a most amazing week. Sending a heartfelt thank-you to all involved!

Friday, September 26, 2014

Crystal Clear

Last night, I had the pleasure of attending an uplifting crystal bowl group mediation.  It took place, after hours, inside a shop carrying gifts, accessories, clothing and more, items designed to add joy and serenity to people's lives.  I had stopped in once when it first opened late last spring, but had not been there since.  After we dozen or so participants settled ourselves in a circle, the facilitator opened the session with a prayer from George Harrison, then explained that the vibrations we would hear while he played the bowl would address the throat chakra, associated with communication and the colour blue.  With eyes closed, we relaxed into ourselves as he continually moved his mallet around the rim.  He played the huge, crystal bowl for thirty to forty minutes, then let the sound fade away.  After opening my eyes and allowing myself to fully return to my body, I looked across the room, and that is when I saw it.  My book displayed upright with full cover view, on a shelf behind the facilitator. I was unaware that this particular shop carried Diary of an Intuitive.  More to the point, I had not noticed the book while passing back and forth in front of it numerous times while arranging chairs for the group, nor had I noticed it during the circle introduction.  While I was processing the magic of this moment, the facilitator invited us to share any experiences we had had with regards to the meditation and he answered individual's questions.  He told a joke involving Sitting Bull, reminding us of the importance of humour, spoke about love being the ongoing connection between life and death, and referred to signs by which people often identify the presence of a loved one who has passed.  After a few minutes of reflection, I began telling the group about what had just occurred to me.  Most of them were unable to see the book from where they were sitting, so I described it to them: a heart containing the words love and gratitude positioned on the blue cover of a book communicating experiences about life and death, and some of the in between.  Almost as an afterthought, I began explaining the story behind the two feathers positioned beside the heart.  No sooner had I  spoken the words "two feathers", when the facilitator's wife, who had been writing notes, lifted her head, and with a nod towards her husband, told me, "That's his name".  Seeing the confusion on my face, her husband, who had introduced himself to us using his French name, explained that he had some native ancestry consisting of two warring tribes, thus the name Two Feathers. Oh my. So many overlapping themes: blue, communication, love, death, feathers. Never a dull moment on this spiritual journey. It's not a stretch to imagine that Michael's spirit guide Geronimo was infused into this magical evening, as well. 

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Accidental Connection

Woke up to another magnificent sunny day on Sunday.  Leisurely start with morning paper and coffee, followed by checking email, then Facebook.  Scrolling down, I noticed a post from a prominent biologist whom I follow, and as I read the copy accompanying a photo taken at a recent film screening, I was quickly transported from serenity to a heightened state, complete with increased heart rate.  The caption named a Grand Chief and his wife who were both seated beside her.  My intuition kicked in and I had a strong sense that this was the woman who had had the misfortune of driving northbound through Princeton on the early morning of March 7, 2011, approaching a corner to find a car skidding across the ice, directly into her path, then colliding.  To date, the minimal information I had regarding that driver's identity was due to a bizarre coincidence one of my neighbours had shared with me a few months after the accident.  While awaiting dinner service at a conference up in the Okanagan, he had taken his assigned seat, when a fellow attendee, using a cane, approached the table and sat down beside him in her designated seat.  During their conversation, it was revealed that the woman had been in a car accident, thus the cane, and after further discussion, these two realized that the accident was one and the same. When my neighbour returned home, he had told me about the crazy connection but did not mention her by name, only that her husband was an Okanagan band chief and the number of children they had.  Back to the photo.  It took a mere few minutes of online research to realize that indeed this was the right person and to get her contact information.  After some thought, I felt compelled to send her an email, explaining who I was, wishing her well, and assuring her that after Michael and Kelly's deaths, it had never crossed my mind to ask,"Why him, why her, why me?"  This morning, I received a lovely reply resulting in two mother's hearts soothed after this accidental connection.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Grandparents' Day

While checking the calendar last week, I noticed that today, the second Sunday in September, is national Grandparents' Day.  I had no idea that we had an official day designated in their honour.  As someone who loves celebrations, I wonder how I missed this since it's been around for almost twenty years.  I also noticed that this year, the holiday would fall on the 7th of the month, coinciding with my monthly Boal Memorial visit.  Connecting the two threads, my thoughts turned from celebrating, to perhaps marking the occasion slightly differently - it would be a fitting day to take my mother-in-law along to visit the setting of Michael's remains, as she had once expressed an interest, but never been.  That thought led me to once again consider the trials of a grieving grandparent.  In addition to having to process the pain of losing a grandchild, there is the added difficulty of bearing witness to their child's pain of grieving the death of their child.  For the most part, the grandparent's experience is endured with very little support.  So for me, this Grandparents' Day will embrace honouring the challenges as well as experiencing the joys of being a grandparent, because "coincidentally", it turns out that I will be spending time with my two little blessings this evening. 

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Worth It

In March of this year, exactly three years after my son died, a letter addressed to Michael from Consumer Protection BC, arrived at my home.  They were advising him that he had been charged illegal fees on some of his Instaloan transactions and could apply for a refund. Well, obviously that was not possible.  The amount of the claim was a modest $35.98, but on principle, I applied on his behalf.  After filling out and mailing in the paperwork, then following up with a couple of phone calls, and numerous emails, I finally received the cheque today, a few days shy of the three-and-a-half year anniversary of his passing. These out-of-the-blue reminders of his death are always emotionally challenging.  And ironically, given his nature, it is doubtful that Michael would have pursued the matter, were he still alive.  However, now I imagine him smiling supportively, those big blue eyes looking down at me, head angled and eyebrows raised, as he sees Canuck Place benefit from this process.

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Summer's Final Stretch

As summer starts to slide into the final stretch, the entertaining nature show, here at the cabin, continues to impress.  Down on the beach, two spotted fawns tentatively explore their surroundings, all on their own. A feisty chipmunk squats on the neighbour's deck railing, swatting at the Canadian flag mounted there.  Another hangs upside-down, while sharpening its teeth on the antlers adorning our shed.  The early evening lineup has included a couple of large, painted turtles feasting on a fish carcass beside the dock, as well as a solitary muskrat swimming along the shore.  However, signs of an approaching fall are evident.  In contrast to the abundance of hummingbirds earlier this season, only one has been spotted this week.  Out on the dock, it flew in low and hovered under the willow for quite some time, in close proximity to where we were sitting, before moving on, as if to say goodbye before heading south to warmer climes.  On the back roads, the endearing marmots are noticeably absent, likely already in their burrows, preparing for hibernation.  As summer slowly, but surely, begins to transition into fall, the antics of the remaining animals are even more appreciated.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Between Life and Death

I have just finished an excellent read, the newly released Opening Heaven's Door, written by award-winning journalist and novelist Patricia Pearson, wherein she explores extraordinary experiences people have had as they approached the boundary between life and death. Those near death, palliative care staff, scientists, and theologists, all weigh in.  The author successfully blends first-hand experiences with thorough scientific research, which can only help move the public conversation on this topic into a healthier and more positive dimension. Perhaps, in the near future, someone like my friend Nancy*, who received a tremendously comforting message from her father shortly after he died, can freely share that experience with her family and other friends, rather than feel the need to keep quiet lest they sully it with any one, of many, dismissive "explanations".  She confided to me that she was unwilling to risk having the gift of her deceased father's precious words ripped away from her. When addressing this issue, the author includes this quote from a medical school professor emeritus: "Perceiving a spiritual being, whether loving or cruel, has become an illegal experience." I am hopeful that sooner, rather than later, our collective voices will rise to shatter this sad commentary on our culture.

* name changed to protect privacy

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Musical Link

Kelly has been on my mind more than usual this past week, thoughts of her permeating the bulk of my days.  Without any corresponding significant date or occasion, I wondered what was going on.  After some consideration, I realized it was possibly due to all the references I had recently come across, regarding a local musician.  I was not familiar with his music but recall comments on Kelly's Facebook page about attending Adam Woodall concerts and how much she enjoyed them.  This week, I came across a magazine article which mentioned a family's summer tradition of inviting that band up for an annual outdoor concert at their cottage.  This family had also known Kelly well, since their daughter had been a very good friend of hers. The day after reading that story, my husband and I were out for coffee and happened upon Adam playing solo at an outdoor plaza.  We listened to his music for close to an hour, with Kelly's smile and effervescent energy infusing the scene.  The following day, I reached out to share my experiences with another one of Kelly's close friends and she mentioned that, in addition to having just spoken to that mutual friend the previous evening, she had also been meaning to contact that band all week, with the idea of hiring them to play at her wedding.  Mystery solved.

Friday, August 1, 2014

Ouija Connection and Consequences

While walking the seawall with one of my daughters recently, she recounted the lingering, uncomfortable consequences a friend of a friend was living with after using a Ouija board.  She described the unsettled energy this person was still experiencing weeks after "playing" with the board.  Since my daughter knew I had had a similar experience (I was in my early thirties, the same age as the person in question), she mentioned it with the hopes that I might be able to offer some support. Partway through this unusual conversation, we ran into an acquaintance of mine, a woman I see, maybe twice a year.  Our children had attended the same preschool over twenty-five years ago, but they had then gone on to attend separate schools.  After reintroducing this woman to my daughter and chitchatting for a couple minutes, we said our goodbyes. As my daughter and I resumed our walk, it suddenly occurred to me that this particular acquaintance was the one who had brought her Ouija board to our women's weekend away, which led to my profound experience with this questionable tool. Talk about uncanny timing!  All those years ago, we had thought it was just a game, but later realized it was nothing of the kind.  It had taken a couple of months of investigation and various remedies for me to finally feel like myself again.  Thankfully, today I was able to put the young woman in touch with a highly regarded healer who will help restore her to a positive state.  Fun and games, the Ouija board is not.      

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

In Sync with the Weather

Up at the cabin, my moods seem to be in sync with the weather today. Contentment while painting the exterior siding under cloudy skies. Uplifted by the sight of a tiny, white feather resting on the ground beside me, just as the sun broke through for a brief visit. Gratitude for getting in a long lake swim before the winds picked up. Then, in concert with the summer storm rolling in, shedding a few tears when one of the songs from Mike's service spontaneously broke the silence, as the temperamental stereo decided to spring to life. Now, while listening to the remainder of that soundtrack and observing the ongoing interplay between clouds, sun and rain, I breathe in all the expressions of life that surround me.

Monday, July 14, 2014

Mizpah

I learned a new word today: mizpah.  I came across it while reading an online article posted on Death Cafe.  The word originated in the Bible and now connotes an emotional bond between two people who are separated (either physically or by death).  Up until now, I was unaware that a term used to describe this situation even existed.  Various scenarios involving mizpah come to mind. Parents sending a child overseas with hopes for a better future.  A best friend moving far away.  The death of a loved one.  It turns out that jewellery depicting this concept also exists, typically consisting of a coin-shaped pendant cut in two with a zigzag line.  A perfect image to hold onto for any being connected to another through mizpah.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Staggering Synchronicity

What are the chances?  After our MGMG cheque presentation at Canuck Place Children's Hospice, their representative gifted my husband and me a copy of their recently created notebook.  As soon as I saw it, I could scarcely believe my eyes - the design and size of it is so similar to that of my book, anyone would think they are related!  Solid blue cover with die-cut heart of same size and placement, four word title, coil bound spine, wrapped in cello packaging.  Seconds after receiving it, I hastily excused myself, ran out to my car and grabbed a copy to show the woman.  None of us could believe the staggering synchronicity. Never having seen anything even close to this design before, I wondered if there could have been a link between my designer and theirs.  After looking into it, turns out, there is not.  Another magical thread connecting all involved even deeper.  Love it!

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Love is in the Air

Love is in the air. Last weekend, Kelly's oldest brother announced his engagement, the first of her siblings to do so. Five days later, Kelly's best friend and her fiancé won a dream wedding package, due in part to the overwhelming vote of support from community. Kelly had met both prospective partners before she passed and is surely beyond thrilled that these two couples are now making plans to marry. Undoubtedly, her loving energy will make its unmistakable presence known at these upcoming weddings. Such is the power of spirit.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Celebration on Many Levels

I was looking forward to celebrating the summer solstice by having dinner with a friend at an ocean side restaurant.  Just before leaving home, I thought I'd quickly check Facebook. While scrolling down, I suddenly came upon what looked to be my son's high school graduation photo posted alongside another young man's. I froze. I couldn't process what I was seeing. The thought flashed through my mind that maybe this wasn't really my son, just someone who looked a lot like him. Then, as I read the corresponding paragraph, I learned that these two had graduated together in 2004 and were now both deceased.  Their class was celebrating their 10th High School Reunion tonight and the reunion committee had posted these two grad pictures to show that the boys were not forgotten by their classmates.  How sweet.  How very thoughtful.  After composing myself, I drove off to meet my friend. We had a great time catching up over a delicious meal with weather that was summer perfect. A few hours later, I returned home to the sound of live jazz coming from a nearby house party.  A beautiful night of celebration, on many levels.       

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Celebrating Love and Life

That was the best MGMG tournament yet.  Taking place on a warm, sunny day miraculously sandwiched in-between one and half days of steady rain with cool temperatures on either side.  Surpassing our fundraising goal by donating $4611 to Canuck Place Children's Hospice.  Inviting new people into the fold.  Delighting in the sweet energy of an increasing number of little ones present.  Experiencing an abundance of hugs, laughs, and stories, along with some tears, as well. Friends and family not missing Mike and Kelly any less, but honouring them both by celebrating love and life, fully.  Go us!

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Mind Versus Mind's Eye

Well, that was fun.  A local clothing store posted an online contest asking their customers to guess the concept of the upcoming window display. The staff had just removed their cruiser bike scene and were preparing to install something new. The winner's reward would be a modest gift card. As soon as I read the question, an image of an outdoor bistro table with chairs, complete with two glasses of wine, popped into my mind's eye. I was about to write that down, but then hesitated. It is not a large shop and I had difficulty picturing enough window space for this scene, in addition to placing the mannequins required. So, for a few minutes, I considered what else it could be. Nothing resonated. Therefore, I decided to submit the idea, despite my mind's inclination to override it. The following day, the store posted an online picture of the new display, and it was just as I had seen: a bistro table, chairs, and two glasses of wine, with room enough for them to include a few mannequins - I had won. Alone at my desk, I laughed out loud. Despite previous, similar experiences, this one was no less impressive or amusing. I continue to shake my head and marvel at how it all works.

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Smorgasbord of Smiles

An entertaining nature show welcomed me home, yesterday evening. It began with a black squirrel scampering over the grass to the patio, then promptly stopping, dropping down onto its back, to soak in the last of the sun's rays. A short time later, I noticed another squirrel help itself to some small, green strawberries, unwilling to wait a week for them to ripen. Then, just before dusk settled in, a young skunk sniffed its way along the path beside the huge glass doors, before sauntering off across the yard. This late spring evening, verging on summer, offering up a smorgasbord of opportunities to smile.

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Inspired Gifts

Receiving a card from a world-renowned jewelry designer, informing me that my book has inspired her to create a new necklace, with proceeds going directly to Canuck Place!  Receiving a letter with an enclosed MGMG donation, from someone I last saw at our high school graduation, exactly forty years ago!  Receiving an email from an unsolicited business owner offering a generous gift for our fundraiser! I am filled with the deepest sense of gratitude, at times overwhelmed, to the point of tears. To witness the incredible gifts realized when we inspire each other, is truly magical.

Monday, May 12, 2014

MGMG 2014

Plans are well underway for next month's 4th Annual Mike Gibson Memorial Golf (MGMG) tournament and it's shaping up to be another great weekend of festivities up at the cabin. Attracting new attendees, including a few rookie beginners ready to try their hand at golf. Receiving offers of donations for the fundraising aspect. Support for this event is strong as ever from friends, family, and acquaintances. Young and old committed to having fun, raising money for Canuck Place Children's Hospice, and most importantly, staying connected by spending this time with each other. We are so fortunate.