Moving the Piano
(Nov 1998)

“They said it couldn’t be done.” These words are on the back of this month’s front cover photograph. They were written by my Mom as a momento of her accomplishment. Getting her beloved piano moved from Michigan to Rosswood, BC was quite a feat since my Dad didn’t even want her to play it. He didn’t like piano music and asked that she not play whenever he was in the house. To me it seemed such a shame but Mom always found ways to make herself happy despite her circumstances. Once, when we talked about her being in the convent for her entire school life, she said, “It was the only way a girl could get an education and that was important to my Mom.” Grandma was very educated: she spoke four languages, including Russian, and rode horses as her husband was a veterinarian. In the convent, all the young women learned to play the piano. There was also drawing, cooking and sewing classes as well as the regular school work.

When I was about ten years old, we moved from the original Rosswood homestead to the new one that Dad built a few miles away. I remember helping Mom unpack boxes and for a moment I stood in awe looking at the beautiful art work she had created during her last years in the convent. One of the pictures was of a white cat curled up in a fish bowl. The subtle details and the beautiful look of the cat made me ask why she didn’t become an artist. She said she was busy raising a family. I loved listening to her sing when she played the piano for she had trained with the Royal Conservatory of Music and had passed their high standards. I enjoyed the many sing-songs we had on the long, bumpy road when we drove into town. If Aunt Cathy was with us it was even more fun, for she loved to sing and she knew lots of songs.

Mom attracted to her women who were different and they provided good role models for me. I thank her and my Grandmothers for giving me a feeling deep in my bones which knows about being myself and doing what makes me happy. After last month’s release I know that I still carry memories in my body of my mother’s feelings about events that happened to her.

As the year draws to a close, I take time to reflect on my chosen journey. I ask myself… “Was my soul given the opportunity to learn what was asked of me?” My 1998 journey was to learn about Maturity and Trust, and with all the shifts and changes in my body and a recent dream I had, I would say my journey feels complete. Even the bones in my feet are shifting. For the past several months when I get up in the morning, my first few steps are intense. My heels feel like they are stepping on spears as the energy shoots up the back of my calves. After the Wise Woman Weekend that sensation stopped, and now the soles of my feet are very itchy. To me itchiness means more blood circulation and therefore healing as my hips and one more vertebra shift into place, allowing my spine more ease so that my shoulders can roll back a little bit easier.

My breathing has changed once again. Now it is easy to feel my breath going into the top of my lungs without effort. It just happens. I try to notice this new sensation as much as possible for I know that with time it will fade and all that will be left is a memory of how tight my lungs used to be.

I feel I have matured this year. My relationship with Gerry has grown into being a helper in his business as I get a chance to improve my cooking skills by making soup for the lunch special at the Juicy Carrot. My oldest son got married this summer and I got a chance to dress formally. It has been ten or twelve years since I have put on a pair of pantyhose, regular shoes and a plain colored dress. Listening and watching my son and his fiancèe plan every detail for over a year helped my heart to open, for I have judgments around spending a lot of money on a wedding. My business relationships with Jan and Marcel have deepened as I come to appreciate their unique qualities more and more. They allow me to grow and expand as more things just seem to happen. Our Centre is thriving because there is so much love in each one of us. We are learning to live in the moment and let go of fear, knowing that each of us will speak our truth in an honest, open way.

Menopause has also arrived and I am experiencing warm flashes. I won’t say hot flashes because I am a person with deficient heat and I savour each heat wave. As Jan says, “You are the only women I know who thinks hot flashes are a blessing.”

And finally the dream I had, one that is much lighter than last month’s release of energy. This dream showed me how far I have come with getting in touch with the various parts of myself. The dream goes like this: I am about to cross a busy street, one with at least six lanes. The cars stop and I am about half-way across the intersection when I realize I have to go pee. There is no holding and I feel the warmth on my thigh but instantly, I realize I have a pad on and it is okay. I can let go and it will be contained. Half way across the street I notice a woman following behind me. As I reach the other side I see an outhouse in the bushes and I hurry up the slight incline. As I close the door I look at the wise, dignified woman, dressed in a business suit and think to myself, “She can wait, she has the look of a mature woman who knows herself, she is in no hurry.” I then lean over the hole of the toilet seat and start wringing out my wet pad.

To me this dream has a simple interpretation: it is the younger side of myself letting go … wetting my pants. Urine is the by-product of the kidneys and water in my dreams has to do with my emotions. In Chinese Medicine the kidneys rule the emotion of fear. I am wringing my old fears back into my childhood, for that is what the outhouse represents. The woman waiting for me is my wiser self, a patient, mature woman who knows how to hold things. She is waiting for me and has lots of patience. Her presence reassures me that I can call on her any time for assistance. The wise woman part of myself is making herself known, I just have to remember that she is part of me and all I have to do is ask for help.

All in all, this year has been very productive, very full, and I feel very blessed to be living in my body, feeling all the sensations that it has to offer and learning to slow down enough to enjoy the process.