Category: #motivation

In.sight.ful

~ blacklilymusings ~ 6 Comments

def. intuitive, perspective, thoughtful, intelligent, profound, keen, incisive, acute, discerning, razor sharp

 

I treasure it.  I say it slowly.  Allowing the compliment to seep into my psyche.  The lady who coordinated my class I taught on Monday said my class was ‘insightful’.  Sometimes when I have a victory or a success, I go back and tell my young little self.  Waking up from her drowsy sleep under her Holly Hobby quilt.  I whisper in her soft warm ear.  “You did something great!”  “You taught a class, can you imagine….dear heart!”  I imagine my heart as a little girl taking courage from it.  Knowing her life would have a purpose.  That she would have a story to tell.  Something to share to inspire and help others.  I feel so humbled.  And thankful.  Thankful for every experience of desperation that made me tap into Potential.  Every darkened lonely path that taught me Faith.  Made me cling to Hope.  That opened my eyes to Possibility.  I think of the word Vulnerability.  Brene Brown, the author and public speaker, helps us so much to understand the power of it.  In order to move out of our comfort zones and into our purpose, we must embrace Vulnerability.  Stepping out onto the ledge.  The Ledge of Uncertainty.  Maybe I’ll sink.  Maybe I’ll swim.  Either way I will grow and evolve and that excites me.  If we care too much about what others think or their opinion, we never will.  If we have something that burns within us, that’s our purpose.  My daughter Helen said after I made her and her fiancee sit through a dry run class, “Mom, you have a heart beat.  So you have a purpose. I think you’ve discovered yours.”  She has no idea how much I loved her and her sweet introspective heart at that moment.  I repeat her words to myself many times a day.  Everyone of us has a heart beat.  Everyone of us has a purpose.  Love you all.

Never Too Old

~ blacklilymusings ~ Leave a comment

I have a dream of being a ballet teacher to children one day.  I see myself with my grey hair in a little ballerina bun bending low to hear the whispered requests of darling children.  So one beautiful sunlit evening last summer after work, found me walking down 8th Avenue to my first ballet class at Alberta Ballet.  I really don’t dance beyond myself with one of my children as hostages.  My dog Charlie dances with me quite happily.  So it is with anticipation and a lot of drummed up courage that I find myself making this happy trek.  I meet one of my acquaintances from Nordstrom who worked in shoes along the way.  He’s waiting for his taxi.  I tell him where I’m going.  He said with a flourish, “Of course, you’re a ballet teacher!  How did I not pick up on that!” He clearly is a soothsayer, I say to myself.  No, he is just ridiculously kind.  But it did set me on my journey with a bit more confidence, strengthening my resolve that seemed to grow weaker with each step.  Heartened, I press the buzzer to be let in.  Clutching my gear tightly under my armpit.  My finger was definitely trembling.  My teacher is perfect.  She’s delicate and blonde with even a heavy french accent.  My heart is thrilled.  I look around.  There’s women and girls stretching.  There is even a woman waiting to play the piano as we dance.  I’ve never plied before.  Ever.  I didn’t even try it in the mirror before I left the house.  Talk about winging it.  But I’m excited.  Long ago I lost my need to appear skilled.  I just was so happy to be there.  Participating.  Enjoying this moment in time.  It was a magical hour.  I plied.  I danced.  I adored the rhythm of my wonderful teachers voice as we all dipped and twirled.  It was such a pure expression of beauty.  I’m even more impassioned to become a ballerina teacher to little children.  For I feel, it takes more love and commitment to building their confidence then skill.  But for now, I will build my skill.  And i will learn to build my own confidence by each day stretching myself out of my comfort zone.  I hope you will too today.  Love you all.

Simplicity

~ blacklilymusings ~ Leave a comment

Some would say I grew up privileged.  That word bothers me.  I did grow up privileged but  not because I had a lot of material things or because it was a picture of unblemished family bliss.  I grew up privileged because of the simplicity of our lives.  Here are some of my simple joys. My mom loved hard ice cream.  We would seek out hard ice cream whenever we were on the “long to a child” road trip to our cottage every weekend.  I to this day have a love for hard ice cream and have found places wherever I have lived or traveled that sells wonderful ice cream.  My favourite is sold in the Kawaihae Harbour on the Big Island of Hawai’i.  They make the most wonderful “Rocky Road” with locally grown and toasted coconut, macadamia nuts, and big chunks of chocolate and marshmallow.  Another simple joy was my mom and dad had a love for antiques.  Many a Saturday I stood in the damp air of a little farm, hearing the familiar chatter of the locals and the auctioneer chanting in the background and and feeling the excitement and stir of a good deal.   My favourite Saturday is estate sales to this day, and have stood with americano in hand first and second in line and found so much comfort meandering around someones home.  Enjoying the atmosphere of others who enjoy the same hobby and treasuring the untold sacred memories behind every little item I would lovingly hold.  Another simple joy was in the springtime touring the beautiful nurseries with my mom picking out her silver dusty miller and her orange and red marigolds that she loved to plant in front of our home.  On a day like today where its -10 degrees I often find myself after errands are done or find myself ” not really in the area but close enough” heading down to Sunnyside Nursery to smell the air and walk amongst the pretty plants for a moment and let it transport me to a warmer clime.  These moments when I allow myself these simple joys is when my heart feels whole and I feel a connection to this beautiful earth and those I enjoy it with.  Here’s to a weekend of simple joys for all of us!

The Silent Season

~ blacklilymusings ~ Leave a comment

Winter with its dark long nights and the heavy blanket of snowfall.  The birds have hushed their voices and are warmly snuggled in their nests on some cold lonely branch.  Families are huddled around the glow of firelight seeking out new hobbies and brushing up on the old.  This season can bring along with its beauty a quietness we are uncomfortable with.  We miss the lightheartedness of summer and the zest and energy we feel with the vitamin d coursing through our veins.  Life is like the seasons.  All seasons have their beauty.  I often even still struggle with the silent seasons. Times of quietness and reflection.  Where maybe the atmosphere is a little chillier than others and there needs some time near the warm fires within our souls.  Where the true warmth of life is felt and nourishes our hearts.  Springtime always dawns, and with it such hope and anticipation as the sun casts its loving warm rays  across the sleeping landscape.  It has waited in quiet faith for this moment.  Nature doesn’t fight the cycle of life, doesn’t cringe at the inevitable changes it experiences.  It settles in and quietly lets the seasons transform from one unique beauty to the other.  I want to listen to my dearest friend when she says….honey, don’t fight it…..it’s the Silent Season.

 

j. chrisp