Mothers Day Gift
June 1999

Finding time to put words to what is happening externally and internally and keep several businesses operating is a challenge. This Sunday I would have preferred to have caught up on some paperwork, but that can wait and deadlines can’t. I am glad when each Musing is complete and I trust that putting these words on paper as a record of my life as it changes is part of my evolvement. Mom preserved our heritage by taking pictures as a record of our homesteading days. I get to record history in a different way, but in essence we are doing the same thing.

This month’s front cover is of me when I was ten or eleven years old, with two of my brothers. We are holding a picture that Dad framed with birch logs. He had cut and grooved them with his power saw, for he was a logger. It was a surprise for Mother’s Day. Even though she had bought the wallpaper prints, Dad took the time to frame them beautifully. The wood bridge we are standing on was typical of those used for logging roads and gave us space to shoot this picture.

The Spring Festival of Awareness kept me busy last month— busier than I had planned. I had decided that I did not want to support the Liptons Food Company and spoke with the cook at Naramata Centre. I explained that the crystals used for the iced tea and artificial juices are made with bleached sugar and chemicals, and that giving them to people to drink compromises my integrity. I also don’t feel well when I drink them as they cause my throat muscles to tighten. We couldn’t reach a compromise, so I decided to do the refreshment breaks myself. The more I am around organic growers and talk with them about their commitment to eat and drink food that is chemical-free, the more I want to be like them. And I want people to taste the difference and understand the dangers of putting poisons in our bodies, even if they taste so good they fool our taste buds. I served organic coffee and tea and made two cold drinks, fresh lemonade made with organic sugar and a Tazo Tea — steeped peppermint leaves mixed with local organic apple juice. I happened to come across a jet spray to keep the drinks cold and bought hundreds of cups and glasses at garage sales so we wouldn’t be throwing out stryrofoam cups.
I arranged for two volunteers to help with setup and clean-up. One of them didn’t show and when that happens I get the opportunity to see what their job is like. Needless to say my feet and legs put in extra time and were very tired by the end of the weekend, but I am glad to have had the experience. Each year I become more appreciative of the volunteers who are hard working, dedicated folks who return year after year.
Sunday night about 9 pm, I was in McLaren Hall putting away the last of the cups. My legs were aching and the sole of my left foot hurt, so I checked into my body. As I did the energy shifted, and this huge feeling of gratitude surrounded me and tears came to my eyes. I felt grateful that my body could work the long hours I had asked of it. I felt satisfied about the weekend for it was special, successful and had an energy of its own. My crew and I did the physical set up but the festival leaders and participants create the magic. I giggled to myself for I was happy and my body felt energized enough that before heading home I stripped a few beds and tidied up the loft. It was midnight before I got a chance to lay down in my bed. Immediately I felt intense pain as the pressure released from my legs and feet. For the past six months I had been making mental notes of the feeling in my feet whenever I walked, especially the first few steps each morning. Saturday, two weeks after the Festival, I could barely get out of bed. My left foot hurt whenever I put weight on it but I wasn’t going to miss my morning of garage sailing, so I quickly adapted and put my focus on shifting my weight forward with each step. Over the next week my hip popped, the groin muscles stretched and the feelings that I had been noticing for so long started to fade. I figure it was my body doing another shift and I am grateful, for this is why I do emotional release work each month with Ken. I have noticed that the universe gives me lessons each month to help me to release old patterning… and then shows me the next layer.
My body knows exactly what it is ready to deal with and gives me situations in my life to put love into practice. For the past several months my focus was on why I work so hard. I asked my inner self this question and an image came to me — it was Hilda the Hun, dressed in her long flowing dress, wielding her sword and poking it at what seemed to be a dog under the porch. Ken asked me to see these two parts of myself communicating. Hilda’s loud voice reminded me of my Dad… feeling very small in front of him… knowing he wanted me to do more but feeling I was too tired to do it happily. I know Hilda is the driving force in me that likes to get things done. I tried my best to imagine the dog under the porch standing up to Hilda for I knew that was part of me also, the part that doesn’t take breaks, even though my body is asking for one. I find it is easy to override any thoughts calling for rest and to keep moving. My exercise over the next several weeks was to imagine me coming out from under the porch and joining with the Hilda part of me as we walked arm-in-arm, as friends. Each time I did, tears welled up, as this quiet aspect of myself felt so grateful at finally being heard.
When Ken came three weeks later my body decided to continue the same discussion. This time when Ken asked me why I don’t communicate with this aspect of myself, my inner child responded by remembering my older brother Phillip, the one on this month’s front cover. He moved slowly and Dad called him lazy and ridiculed him. I didn’t want to be called lazy so I over-rode my natural instincts and worked hard so that I could get the love I needed from my parents. The tears flowed easily and when they do I know my thoughts to be truth.
This was a very quiet session, for I have finally reached a place near my core self where I have come to realize that there is no-one to blame. Just decisions on how I need to change myself. At least now I can hear the quiet voice and sometimes I rest. When I honour the rhythm of my body I have more energy at the end of the day and I spend it meditating and asking for guidance. Being grateful and not controlling how things get done is becoming easier and more natural feeling. Making each moment of the day special allows me to do a walking mediation, enjoying the flowers, the birds and the sunsets as I move from one task to the next.
My Mom arrived In Penticton the day before Mother’s Day and it was great that I could enjoy her company. Listening to her latest escapades helps me become a little more clear about why I am the way I am. I have come to understand that life is a paradox and my mother is a great example. You can read about her on page 26, for Urmi interviewed her and will give you a glimpse into this delightful, free woman who knows few limitations and trusts that the universe will provide. Her energetic nature and love of life are much appreciated, for I know those qualities are in my genes as wel