I Can Hear You

We all know that I love the sound of my own voice.  Yes? 

In class yesterday, we were given an interesting article on listening.  I wish to share this article because I wish to be a better listener.  I honour you and therefore I will listen.

I promise to take the time to really hear you because I sincerely would rather hear your issues than my own - they are getting old.  And I need new inspiration!!   Yours are all so neat interesting and delightfully different and sometimes equally lousy and joyous as all my stuff!!  So bring on what you need to say and know that I am here .... endlessly.

Enjoy this article, it's a good one.

http://www.heartsongproject.org/_articles/Tell_Me_More.pdf  (hmm, this link doesn`t want to work so here is the article below.....)

Listening is a magnetic and strange thing, a creative force.  Think how the friends that really listen to us are the ones we move toward, and we want to sit in their radius as though it did us good, like ultraviolet rays.

This is the reason:  When we are listened to, it creates us, makes us unfold and expand.  Ideas actually begin to grow within us and come to life.  You know how if a person laughs at your jokes you become funnier and funnier, and if he does not, every tiny little joke in you weakens up and dies?  Well, that is the principle of it.  It makes people happy and free when they are listened to.  And if you are a listener, it is the secret of having a good time in society (because everybody around you becomes lively and interesting), of comforting people, of doing them good.

Who are the people, for example, to whom you go for advice?  Not to the hard, practical ones who can tell you exactly what to do, but to the listeners; that is, the kindest, least censorious, least bossy people you know.  It is because by pouring out your problem to them; you then know what to do about it yourself.

When we listen to people, there is an alternating current, and this recharges us so that we never get tired of each other.  We are constantly being re-created.  Now there are brilliant people who cannot listen much.  They have no ingoing wires on their apparatus.  They are entertaining, but exhausting, too.  I think it is because these lecturers, these brilliant performers, by not giving us a chance to talk, do not let us express our thoughts and expand, and it is this little creative fountain inside us that begins to spring and cast up new thoughts and unexpected laughter and wisdom.  That is why, when someone has listened to you, you go home rested and lighthearted.

Now, this little creative fountain is in us all.  It is the spirit, or the intelligence, or the imagination-whatever you want to call it.  If you are very tired, strained, have no solitude, run too many errands, talk to too many people, drink too many cocktails, this little fountain is muddied over and covered with a lot of debris.  The result is you stop living from the center, the creative fountain, and you live from the periphery, from externals.  That is, you go along on mere will power without imagination.

It is when people really listen to us, with quiet fascinated attention,  that the little fountain begins to work again, to accelerate in the most surprising way.

I discovered all this about three years ago, and truly it made a revolutionary change in my life.  Before that, when I went to a party I would think anxiously, “Now try hard.  Be lively.  Say bright things.  Talk.  Don’t let down.”  And when tired, I would have to drink a lot of coffee to keep this up.

Now before going to a party, I just tell myself to listen with affection to anyone who talks to me, to be in their shoes when they talk, to try to know them without my mind pressing against theirs, or arguing, or changing the subject.  No.  My attitude is: “Tell me more.  This person is showing me his soul.  It is a little dry and meager and full of grinding talk just now, but presently he will begin to think, not just automatically talk.  He will show his true self.  Then he will be wonderfully alive.”

Sometimes, of course, I cannot listen as well as others.  But when I have this listening power, people crowd around and their heads keep turning to me as though irresistibly pulled.  It is not because people are conceited and want to show off that they are drawn to me, the listener.  It is because by listening, I have started up their creative fountain.  I do them good.

Now why does it do them good?  I have a kind of mystical notion about this.  I think it is only by expressing all that is inside that purer and purer streams come.  It is so in writing.  You are taught in school to put down on paper only the bright things.  Wrong.  Pour out the dull things on paper too-you can tear them up afterward- for only then do the bright ones come.  If you hold back the dull things, you are certain to hold back what is clear and beautiful and true and lively.  So it is with people who have not been listened to in the right way: with affection and a kind of jolly excitement.  Their creative fountain has been blocked.  Only superficial talk comes out:  what is prissy or gushing or merely nervous.  No one has called out of them, by wonderful listening, what is true and alive.

From the booklet by Brenda Ueland, “Tell Me More on the Fine Art of Listening”

Amazing

When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are

And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are

Christmas Happens

Have you ever noticed that Christmas suddenly just appears.  Like a flip of a switch, it is upon us.  There's no lead in, no prep, it just is there looking at you as if to say "hi, I'm here, I'm back."

This morning there is snow on the ground and with the snow there are more adverts with Santa popping up in them - like magic.  My hands as if they were pulled by father Christmases hands themselves reached up and back to the edges of the back cupboard to pull out one of my few Christmas mugs.  I'm using one as I type this.  It is kind of weird.  It's like menstruating, at least with that, we've got some lead -in.  Cramps, bad moods, some psychotic behaviour, the intense need for all things chocolate with some extra salt sprinkled over top.   Things need lead-ins.   Christmas defies that law. 

And going to Costco in September and seeing fully decorated Xmas trees and mechanical gold reindeer is not my idea of preparation.  

My lead in to Christmas came this Tuesday November 16th which I suppose is within a reasonable time frame - I guess if you stretch your head a bit.  I had to take Layla to emergency after a bad night of GI issues resulting in a dehydrated little ducky and, as always (blessedly), she was seen immediately with much care and kind attention, treated with diligence and respect to the nature of her things, and we were sent home with return papers if need be.  Seriously, that child gets the Hilton Hospital experience when she is there - I can chalk it up to her being really cute in those tiny hospital gowns.  She does melt them, neon body goop and all, she still is a heart warmer.

We head off to do the usual Second Cup coffee and rocky road bar run (post emergency fare it makes the experience way better) as I wait for Michael to pick us up.  I sit, study my homework all the while listening to three hours of Christmas lounge music.  I'm not kidding - three hours!  I was tempted to go back into emergency!

Surprisingly I did come out of there feeling a bit more merry and bright!!  I find myself looking forward to my morning Christmas cuppa. 

So, this is what I remember from this emergency visit - more and more, I am able to find the joy and connect that joy with every experience that my children lead me through. 

Christmas started post emergency this year.  In a place where there are sick children being tended to, nursed back to health, where they are suffering, a place of birth and death.  A place filled with help and hope for our little beings.  I hope the joy of Christmas fills each of those children's hearts and souls with cheer and provides comfort and supports their family members who are by their side.  May the music play on.....

Christmas time will sneak up on you and when it does, just take a moment to bask a little in the beauty and merriment that this time of year brings - even if this time of year starts while we pack away our summer shorts!!

Insight

Some time ago and over a period of time, I asked god to give me guidance; to give me the strength that would show me the way. 

Then came Layla.

I looked deep into her eyes tonight, right into her soul and I told her this:

That she is the strength and she is showing me my way.  Her being born is the strength behind my overcoming hurdles.  Facing fears, being able to let go, navigating through anger and grief and finding the blessings and beauty in the moment.    She is the  pull of my feet to the earth.

Right now, I may not be able to pursue a career and achieve monetary gains / success, but right now, I can do and I can be just what I should be doing and being right this very moment in my life. 

I've been pushed in this direction outside of my immediate control, but this child was born to me - to our family and so this reality must move us to go to a new level.

That she is an angel of the real kind and that she needs to know over and over again of how truly wonderful and special she is.  She needs to be told that every day because she may not get it, but the repetition will do wonders for her soul.  Her happy little soul.

So Much To Love

"Through the Divine Spirit, in my subconscious mind, I pray that my mum's medical procedure will be completely successful and that she will be home soon"

This is part of an affirmation written by my father.  My great father for my great mother in law.  Right as I type these words, she is undergoing open heart surgery in Montreal and I wish I could be right outside of her room door with her.   I see a bright light of strength, hope, love and courage enveloping her heart, the team of doctors and nurses with her and blanketing her completely.  I see my hand holding hers curled up and sedated, squeezing love and light into her body.  Silent prayers and powerful affirmations abound from the center of my being, across the country right into her operating room.  My heart is beating extra strong for her - beating in time and channeling strength right into hers. 

When I married Michael, I gained her.  She is a gift and she is my mother. 

I want to be like her when I grow up...... 

A Safe Place

My two daughters - number 1 and 2 - go to the same lovely school which started 2 weeks ago.  They are using their wings and starting to soar.  It is very special to watch and let go of the grip just a little bit and it feels right to do that.  The first two weeks have been great for them. 

The past month has been a tricky one for me.  I've been anxious and panic stricken often and without much warning.  It seems to occur during times of change and transition and September was looming around the corner when all this started.  It's also my birthday month.  All three of the girls are transitioning to school, a fairly tight and action packed schedule, Layla's intervention and therapy is more goal oriented and directed with more purpose and my husband is doing his thing full steam ahead.

Someone suggested that I don't know who I am and that it is definitely possible to lose the "yourself" in the mix of raising and tending to family.  Truth is that I do know who I am.  I'm Jennifer - what you see is it.  Ta Da!!  How does one who has such a large ego lose oneself - not possible, I just would never let that happen.  But seriously, and upon trying to make some sense of the spinning head episodes and the feeling of disconnect between my head and the rest of my body reminds me that my energy source has shifted from my core to my head and that my feet aren't rooted on the earth.  I don't totally know what I'm doing right here, right now. 

Baby Buttons

Layla and sisters have all been passing around the sicky baton.  Currently being jointly held by Maya and Layla.  One is asleep with a popcorn / vomit (changes depending on the season) bucket next to her pillow and the other dreaming dreams of antibiotic sugar plums.

Amidst this, I had a thought, it goes something like this.....

Last night, as Layla lay in my arms coughing and wailing, the movie "Benjamin Buttons" flashed through my mind.  The prequel - the story of the baby that grows up very slowly.  Brad Pitt can play the part of - well Layla I suppose.  I think I would happily handle nursing, bathing and massage duties ...

All joking aside, it is comforting to be able to see some humour in many situations.  Even when I feel stuck, I know that it is so important for me to keep living and being connected to all the world around me in the ways that I seek and desire.  So that I can keep drawing from all my experiences.  Not just the difficult or challenging ones.

Today at my dear family's doctor with Layla, dear Doctor who delivered my brother and I who now strictly deals with men's health, checked Layla's chest for possible infection.  When I told him of her diagnosis, he was sad.  He told me how sorry he was to hear of this.  His sadness was so real and heartfelt.  I wanted to hug him.  Truthfully, I want to hug everyone.  As if the hugging serves as an initiation into Layla's and my world.  Welcome into my heart space. 

This does happen now and then, and it leaves me with a heavy heart.  It is not a complaint or a bad thing.  I just can't stay moved by the sadness alone. 

What I do need to do is see more movies starring Mr. Pitt and let THAT move me!  Ha ha!