Creative Writing · Education · Entertainment · Girl Stuff · Health · Humor · Humour · Life · Men's Issues · Relationships · Sexuality · Singles · Spirituality · Uncategorized · Women's Issues · Writing

The Zen of Joy & Suffering

first to reachI’m failing miserably  as a Buddhist.

Instead of planning a blow-out for the twelfth anniversary of my 28th birthday, I should just bite the proverbial bullet and book the silent meditation retreat that falls on the big day.

But I’m having so much fun, and fun has been hard to come by the past couple of years.

When you drag your tired butt home on Friday night carrying a brand new bottle of ibuprophen and a pregnancy test to recuperate from your personal life, and your work week ended at 11pm following a ten course meal seated at the VIP table with the likes of Canadian Senators, a gal has to think to herself, “What d’ya know? Life ain’t over yet by a long shot.”

Not only have I indulged in the carnal knowing of a lovely man-pudding, but I have rooted for a pal to get her happy-on, even if it means some tough love in her marriage. I’ve  over-slept, drank more than a moderate amount of  delicious wine, and totally flubbed my fitness routine.

It all sounds a bit indulgent doesn’t it ladies? It all sounds like I’ve tipped the balance in favour of lustful gluttony of all sorts, right?

Not really.

As I sip  my 2010-smooth-as-satin-deliciously-rich-and-reminiscent-of-melted-chocolate-BV-Cabernet, I know that the pendulum always swings back from whence it came.

So I will enjoy the joy that is upon me in this moment. It will not last forever, nor its memory fade. Life is nothing if not a winding road hiding splendor and sadness around corners which we cannot yet see.

Am I really a terrible Buddhist?

No, not really. Just one who enjoys the joy as much as the suffering.

 

Creative Writing · Economics · Entertainment · Girl Stuff · Health · Humor · Humour · Life · Men's Issues · Pets · Relationships · Singles · Spirituality · Uncategorized · Women's Issues · Writing

Easy Like Sunday Mid-Morning

"Just because I'm awake at 6am, does not mean I'm ready to go and do things." ~ASL~
“Just because I’m awake at 6am, does not mean I’m ready to go and do things.”
~ASL~

“Not a morning person”, does not even begin to describe me.

Nope. My mornings start early, and as soon as my alarm goes off (not my eyes open, well, because they open about 20 minutes later), I run a sequence of my day through my head. After that, I think about what I’ll wear, and after that, I press the snooze button a couple more times. Just to make sure it works.

Don’t worry my lovelies, I get my gratituding in before I drift of to sleep.

My days are non-stop, and can run into the wee hours of the morning. Alas, my alarm clock is a cruel master, and I must, no matter how late I stayed up working on a presentation or meeting material, get my sorry petunia out of bed and carry on the next day.

A Twitter-Pal recently asked; What’s your favourite part about waking up early on the weekend?

First of all, early usually involves work or some ‘have to’ activity. So, waking up early for me (without alarm clock or agenda) means getting out of bed and staying out of bed before 10am or, getting out of bed and achieving one cup of coffee before my teenager wanders out of his room.

On this Sunday morning, I offer you a list of things that I love about waking up early on the weekend (using my definition of early)

1) Opening my window so I can feel the cool morning breeze, and listen to the rain (like this morning).

2) Not rushing my morning coffee… x2.

3) Catching up with the social media my friends post.

4) Reading in bed.

5) Listening  jazz music while I make breakfast.

6) Crawling back under the covers and being fully awake and aware of how cozy it is at home.

 

I hope you had a wonderful weekend to wake up at your leisure. Wishing you sweet daydreams…XO

 

Girl Stuff · Health · Humor · Humour · Life · Men's Issues · Relationships · Sexuality · Singles · Spirituality · Uncategorized · Women's Issues

Darkest Before the Dawn

"Surely a man has come to himself only when he has found the best that is in him, and has satisfied his heart with the highest achievement he is fit for.” ~Woodrow Wilson~
“Surely a man has come to himself only when he has found the best that is in him, and has satisfied his heart with the highest achievement he is fit for.”
~Woodrow Wilson~

Stick with this one darlings, it’s going to be a meandering read, but it will make sense in the end. I promise.

We all have days that mark significant changes in our lives.

Yesterday was one of them. Well,  for me anyway my juicy little plums.

It was the kind of day that demands a popped cork,some kind of celebration with someone special, and the quiet contemplation of feeling the satisfaction of accomplishment.

Although I love order,  knowing the next step, the next task, and the next expectation, I love happy endings even more. Which aren’t  endings at all really. They’re just bright shiny markers on the twisting, turning road of life.

I had definite plans in my head about how this long weekend would roll-out. I allowed myself the indulgence of daydreaming about seeing someone very special on Friday night, working my ass off on Saturday and Sunday, and relaxing on Monday.  Even though I had some work to do, I was ok with what I had thought my plans would be.  (Refer to How to Enjoy a Long Weekend).

But my plans went the way of good intentions around 9:30am yesterday morning.  I arrived home at least two hours later than I had planned and had to rush or entirely abandon all of my deliciously sinful daydreams. Instead, I  settled for a quick shower and threw on some comfy clothes.  It’s amazing what a combination of total freedom and stability can achieve emotionally.

So, although my day, and as it turns out, my evening was not what I had expected, I experienced one of the best days I’ve had in a long, long time. So good in fact, that my plans for working my ass off today and tomorrow have been abandoned. Apparently all of my hard work has already paid off for now, and I can take time to re-focus, creatively strategize, and allow myself the indulgence of a little hope.

Between work, parenting,  friendships and men, I’ve re-learned a few lessons this week;

1) Always believe, deep down in your core, that you have value and something wonderful to offer the world.

2) You never communicate as clearly and brilliantly as you think you do. Make space for intentional conversation with no expectations. Speak from your heart.

3) Logic will never speak the language of emotion. Sometimes our hearts take us to places more rich, a bit scarier and way more satisfying than our heads ever will. Be brave and pack a lunch.

4) Given the truth in item #2, there are always people out there who care about you more than you know or could even guess.

5) To be still and present in the darkness of the soul is a skill that takes practice and incredible courage. Learn to connect with your breath.

6) Prepare for the worst, expect the best, and don’t be afraid to ask for what you want.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Creative Writing · Entertainment · Girl Stuff · Health · Life · Men's Issues · Politics · Relationships · Singles · Spirituality · Uncategorized · Women's Issues

Vibrant Women

It has been a busy week, but ‘good busy’. Wishing all of my wonderful followers success, courage, and giddy-joy! Enjoy and celebrate your power…after a good night sleep of course….

 

busy woman

Creative Writing · Entertainment · Girl Stuff · Health · Life · Men's Issues · Music · Poetry · Travel · Uncategorized · Women's Issues · Writing

Cuba – Island of My Hunger Indeed

shanty

shanty (Photo credit: scpgt)

 

The first of two, perhaps three, maybe even four posts about my love affair with Cuba.

When I’m away from it, I wonder about its harsh beauty. Everything about it holds a kind of tragedy waiting to be witnessed; the supple bodies of a people accustomed to physical labour, the once-beautiful architecture turned ragged, over-taken by cement tenements, and the beautiful, sharp, call of the music that reminds everyone of a haunting past; a yearning for a kind of freedom that has no words.

Before I ever set foot on Cuba’s soil, I had been fascinated by the rich history, political fortitude and the primitive ceremonies cloaked in the guise of modern Christian saints.  It was like a slow falling-in-love with a long distance lover whom I’d never met. I had read his letters, heard whispers through the telephone line, and fallen asleep with a contented smile remembering the gentle promise of sunshine, sea-water and the sweet, high call of a trumpet tempting the people to make love on earth that they dance upon….

April 1/2012 – Journal Entry -Driving into the Countryside from the Airport

There is something about this island that feels like home to me. I’m not sure why, it just has always been that way. Perhaps it has something to do with the way the landscape lolls out from the tarmac into instant country-side or, that the sun-baked simplicity of the houses and buildings mimic the isolation of our vast Canadian landscape.

There is a certainty about the earth here that grounds a person’s sensuality in their own body. I see a man leaning, left hand in the door frame, arm stretched high.  The rest of his bare torso bends easily to the weight of his lean body, his lover standing beside him, underneath his up-stretched arm. Her silhouette binds easily to his, in a way that leaves no doubt that he has just had her.

The inspiration for the name of this post came from a collection of modern Cuban Poetry ; Island of my Hunger.