Dreaming...

Have you ever awakened to a dream that seemed real? A dream that answered a question to a challenge you were facing, so much so that you chose to shake it off and bury it within the depths of your being? (Inspired by Being Erica.)

For these thoughts, like many, I am once again drawn to the words of William Shakespeare, from Hamlet’s celebrated speech:

To be or not to be…

Where I wonder, does consciousness “make cowards of us all”? Shakespeare actually is referring to a person’s conscience in this passage but I keep seeing consciousness and think about the interpretation of dreams which dates back many years and through most cultures from ancient theories of souls adventuring out of a body to modern day MRI scans that track brain waves during a sleep state.

Thunder only happens when it's raining

And Alice fell down a rabbit hole and her dreams became reality. Stories, plays and movies have long encompassed the subject of dreaming, from The Wizard of Oz to Inception causing me to wonder about other creative people and their thoughts surrounding dreams.

Since I started meditating before sleep and asking myself the deeper questions that reside in me, the remembrance of dreams has become a regular occurrence, with the only difference from the aforementioned being that I no longer ignore these dream awakenings.

Six or maybe seven years ago, I sat down to work on my Masters, write from home and immerse myself as a stay at home parent. As my son graduates and prepares to leave home and my daughter steps into grade eleven, I am ready to take on a new challenge and have been applying for some exciting positions. The thing is, I take what I do seriously and have never not loved whatever it is that I do. This leads me to question much, and whenever I think of something I’d like to add to my life, I get these weird dreams which cause me to reflect… do I really want to make a move or not? The other evening and before sleep, I asked that my inner wisdom present me with some clarity surrounding these thoughts, and with a startled awakening in the middle of the night, I had an answer.

When the rain washes you clean you'll think you know

You’re a writer. It was simple and clear. As I took a deep breath, I smiled warmly, was grateful, and with ease fell back to sleep.

You'll know

~ Ellyn 

My Agenda...

For two weeks in the spring as the snow melts, the wind picks up and a hint of green on everything outside my door begins to show itself, I work tirelessly to prepare this vast yard that has become my sanctuary, to indeed be just that. I am often ready to give up, even though I know that it takes determination and discipline and I wonder where these attributes come from within me?

And then I remember… in the sometimes chaotic and disordered house that I was raised in, my room was always the tidiest and became the guest room for others. At 15 years of age and with my first paycheque, I bought new bedding; white eyelet with a delicate yellow flower that adorned pillow shams, a comforter and bedskirt. I needed life around me to be aesthetically pleasing so that I could breathe easier and just be. 

But why?

The things that cause me stress and overwhelm me are messes. I have rarely gone to bed without folding the throws in the living room, and the evening dishes are always done, and yet my counters have stuff on them that I never put away; a mini easel with a painting that Jillian made when she was young, chrome containers with cutlery at the ready and fruits and vegetables in baskets and bowls.

Once my children became teens, I stopped interfering with how their rooms were kept or unkempt. They designed their own spaces, take care of their clothes, or not, and I notice that although I taught them to make their beds each morning, as teens those beds are rarely made. It only bothers me if it goes on for months and I see the money that I have spent in heaps on the floor.  

Needs - we all have different ones and for me to have an uncluttered mind, I need my home to be uncluttered. Living with others, isn’t always conducive to this and I need to continually remind myself that my agenda is not my children’s, nor Brent’s and so be it.

And so, clad in overalls, a long-sleeved shirt, toque and gloves, I am headed out the back door to dig in yet more dirt. I will shower before the school day is over and with dinner in the oven, will enjoy sitting on our calm and tidy verandah, basking in the sound of my babies’ voices as the events of their day unfold.  

~ Ellyn

Beauty In Death

I’m so glad they knew her.

Although my kids lost their grandma when they were seven and eight years of age, they still knew her and because of this, she has played a role in their lives. Even though she only saw them a few times a year, she took time to really know who they were. She had three granddaughters and three grandsons and she never gave them generic fair dollared gifts, but a gift that matched each one’s interest. She couldn’t take her eyes off of them and when they talked to her, she listened whole heatedly and with genuine importance. She would be so proud of the teenagers that my babies became and would be excited to watch Max prepare to leave home for college.

When my mama was dying, my children had the opportunity to spend time with her and watching my little girly readily climb upon my mother’s bed to kiss her goodnight, was beautiful.

There is beauty in death if we take time to see it…

Over eight years ago, after a stroke and an incidental finding of inoperable cancer, my mama had a wish to die at home. Along with my dad, my siblings and some amazing earth angels called Palliative Care Nurses, we ensured that this could happen. My mom had been a beautiful dancer but the stroke had left her legs in such a state that she could not bear weight on them in order to walk independently and of course, would never dance again. Facing him and supported atop his feet, my dad would guide her to the bathroom, the living room and the bedroom. He called this “The Dance” and one evening with his grand singing voice, as he guided her to bed, he sang, “Could I have this dance for the rest of my life…” 

On beauty in death, Kahlil Gibram writes

Dry your tears, my friends, and raise your heads as the flowers
Raise their crowns to greet the dawn.
Look at the bride of Death standing like a column of light
Between my bed and the infinite;
Hold your breath and listen with me to the beckoning rustle of
Her white wings.

As I sat at the dining room table that evening and in the moment when my dad danced my mom to her bed, my brother’s eyes met mine and without any words spoken between us, I discovered beauty in death - for this I am truly grateful.

This isn’t a special anniversary of her death, or life but a day where my thoughts just raced around her and so I will dry my tears and simply remember the beauty of all things mom…

~ Ellyn

Launch in 4, 3, 2 am…

As an author friend launches his new novel, his debut one will be available as an eBook for a limited time. I encourage you to read about the interesting life of Detective Henry Wood.

~ Ellyn

Running On Country Roads Part II

Dear Country Road,

I’ve missed you.

I have been running for about nine years. At least I think it has been nine. I would actually have to sit down and calculate it because it is such a part of me that I have kinda forgotten. I just know, that I am runner.

With the exception of the last two years, I run everyday that I am at home and able to. Sometimes that means seven days a week and sometimes that means three. However, two years ago, a wind powered development and production project began in our area and with it, came vehicle after vehicle down our country road. I no longer enjoyed running outside and chose to use our elliptical machine.

The wind powered project is now completed and up and running. There are no more extra crew workers and vehicles down our road, and today as the sun poured in on me at my desk, I chose to take a break and run outdoors.

It was fabulous!

I am thrilled that I never gave up on running and supplemented with the elliptical, and am pleasantly astonished at how far ahead in my training I am, than I usually am at this time of year. Typically, in April, I am still training with a few one-minute walks during my run, but today it was continuous and I am celebrating.

As the warmer weather unfolds before me, I know that I will enjoy my country road more than I ever have.

~ Ellyn

Hope?

With my knee high rubber boots, winter chore coat, toque and mitts on, I tiptoe on ice, breaking through crusty snow with a soft slushy feel in the middle, on my way out to the compost heap, remembering that there is hope underneath these four foot drifts of snow.

I try to marvel at the old raspberry canes and the dried asparagus ferns peeking their way through the dirty grey wrap that won't let go and I wonder when I will taste these gifts of the yard that just show up every year.

The unwelcoming wind bites my cheeks and I want to bite it back.

 I guess I’ll run indoors again today and hope that sunshine and warmth comes soon.

~ Ellyn

Theatre Arts

It is with much sadness that I feel the need to write this note espousing the importance of The Arts in a society. Although I am distraught by my Government’s attempt to balance a budget by once again attacking education, I am even more disappointed with the way in which many institutions have decided to deal with those budget cuts. For this reason, the prestigious Mount Royal University in Calgary has made a decision to suspend classes in Theatre Performance, Technical Theatre, and Jazz Music. Classes in classical music were eliminated last year.

The Arts is what makes us most complete, as a people, and is as essential as math and history. 

Living in rural Alberta and with no drama program in our local school, my physically talented son has always played the role of athlete. Any random chance that he had to be on the stage, he relished, and continually asked for lead roles. This fall, he could go off and study Physical Education in University or push himself to play sport at that level, but as grade 12 comes to a close and at 18 years of age, he wants to give theatre arts a go. This winter and spring he has spent the bulk of his free time dedicated to performing and creating and currently sits on the wait list at Mount Royal University in Performing Arts. He has auditioned for other programs and is waiting to hear how they will be handling their budget cuts.  

As a researcher of child development, I know the overwhelming evidence that demonstrates a multitude of benefits that unfold from the simple act of children being engaged in fine arts and hope that Mount Royal University and others will reconsider their decision to cut these vital programs.

~ Ellyn