Time – quite literally. I keep losing my watch … I just did again this week - two of them. So really, it is better to say watches, because each time I lose one, I have to buy a new one, which ends up being lost sooner or later. Grown up people are supposed to wear a watch. I am not sure why I think this – someone long ago probably said it to me and it stuck. It stuck to the degree that I think of it every time I have already lost the watch. Generally speaking the only time I wear my watch is when I have to “know” what time it is. I usually like to have naked wrists. It actually bothers me to have anything on my wrists for an extended period of time because I have cysts in both wrists that grow from time to time (nothing serious of course, they are ganglion cysts, have had them all my life). That is the excuse I use anyway. The truth of the matter is, I don’t like to wear a watch. If I don’t have one on, then time doesn’t matter so much to me. Actually, even with it on, time doesn’t matter so much to me. If I wear a watch it is because time matters to someone else, and I am a cheerful person, wanting, most often, to help another person (ie. Time restricted) remain cheerful. There is naked beauty in not wearing a watch. Truly there is.

There are other things that I have lost besides my watches. I had a pendant once, a stone turtle. I had been given it as a gift, and the person said to me “Oh Leigh, this is the right animal for you. The turtle is your animal guide.” Now, the thing is, I am a gracious person as much as I am generally cheerful. I accepted the gift. I put the pendant around my neck that day. We were in a park at a folk festival. We walked around, had some lunch and then on the way home, I realized suddenly, the pendant was gone. It had fallen off my neck and dropped into the grass somewhere. I was disappointed. I thought all that night and for several days later, that was my animal totem that I lost in the park. That can’t be good. A few weeks later, I happened to be in a shopping mall, and there were craft vendors set up in the common area between the stores. Luck would have it that one of the vendors was selling stone pendants (among other things) and I found another turtle pendant. Happily, I bought it, put it around my neck. The next day – it was gone. I had put it on the table (I was certain) but when I got up, I could not find it anywhere. I checked my bag, checked my apartment – it did not turn up. I was starting to question whether or not I was losing my mind. Why didn’t this turtle friend of mine want to stick around?? I remember calling my friend with the bad news. “No matter” he said. “ I will find you the right turtle”. I waited. Ok, I didn’t exactly wait around the phone, and went about my regular days. A week later, we met for coffee, and he presented me with another turtle. One that his friend had made. Great, I thought, I am all set. This turtle stuck around a little longer. Two weeks went by and I managed to keep track of the elusive turtle. Then it was gone. I was at work, finished my shift and when I got home late at night, realized, the string of the pendant had come undone. No turtle again.  I am a believer in things happening in threes. Clearly the turtle and I were not compatible. I do enjoy turtles, but never again have I tried to keep one around my neck in any form.

The topic of loss always reminds me of the story of Kisa Gotami. I don’t know if you know it. She was devastated by the death of her son. Not know what to do, she seeks out the Buddha for advice. He said he had a cure for death, much to the surprise of everyone, but the price to know the cure was to bring him a mustard seed from every family in the village who had not known death. Kisa Gotami went to every household looking for these special mustard seeds. Everywhere she went she met people who had lost someone to death. Finally she returned to the Buddha and sat humbly at his feet. She realized how selfish her grief was, and the Buddha explained to her how her attachment to death and dying, to her grief and loss made her suffer. It was when I first read and heard this story that I understand something, and started to truly let go.
~

I would say nothing personally is troubling me. I have no complaints about my life – I am healthy, as is my family, have a roof over my head, food on the table, and peace surrounds where I live. Freedom. However, I am troubled by some of the major events occurring in the world. The struggle for others to be safe, free, fed, sheltered… breaks my heart for many reasons. It makes me sad that it is a struggle for some to have the basics in their lives. I work for a non-profit organization (have for 9 years) and have seen first hand the struggle people face, especially children, living in poverty. The many layers of issue complicate the problem, and while some solutions are helpful on the short term, if there can’t be a fundamental shift to address the larger, long term issues, then poverty is a cycle that continues through generations of people. Not to mention even the absolute hardship that throwing politics and religion into the mix brings.

Being troubled doesn't lead me to complain without doing something about it. This is why I work where I do. Being troubled moves me to make a difference, and the help those around me, beginning with my family, my children, to see that there is something we can do. Making a difference in one life IS important. Making a difference is a million lives IS important. Caring and compassion does go a long way to helping people, no matter what their situation, to make a difference and help. Sharing resources, being creative, being positive in the face of despair, determined in the face of hunger. I am troubled that sometimes people forget to start where they are. It is good, because sometimes I forget too and need to be reminded.

There is much that I wish and pray for in this life for others. For myself too. In a world where the elite would rather spend millions on taking one flight into lower orbit than work to feed the bellies of millions of children.... I should be troubled and remain so.


la

Night jasmine lingers
On bare arms
Shoulders golden from afternoon sun
As I lay my head down
Lulled by fountain songs
Here along the pathways
Lit by tiny fairy lights

Vines creeping in a curtain of green
Embrace this table
Where candles sit like jewels
In the darkening evening
Only the shadows know
The leaping joy of my soul
As the mourning doves coo
Their sweet and lonely goodnight

The morning now seems long passed
When the light traced shadowed outlines
Of maple leaves on my skin
And I sat enthralled by the silent life
Of this beautiful garden

I watched as the day undid itself
Each moment the water leapt over
The edge of the stone fountains
And sunlight caught itself in
The silvery streams

It was the silence that called to me
This question –
How do you articulate joy?
It seemed an insult to use my voice
Just then instead the garden cautioned me
To sit with the question
Hold it within before
Letting the answer roll out of me

And so it has sat with me
The entire day long
I was unmoved and yet moving here
Among the blossoms and hanging leaves
The birds came and went
Flowers opened and closed in the heat
And the sun rose to its zenith and set
I heard the garden sigh contentedly
While I drifted along with breezes and clouds
And just now, sitting in a quiet corner
Looking over the garden to the waterfall
The answer came to me


I smiled.
~

la tyson

here is your silence
in this room
laid out across the tables
in soft golden tones of candlelight
in the pages of closed books
resting now in piles
by my bare feet


here is your silence
wrapped like the amethyst beads
around my wrist
this pulse that we all share
shortening the distance
between us


here is your silence
in this quiet place
of my heart
the night folded into me
until I know longer know
where the night begins and I end
here is where love turns into
the next spiral of life
this is where silence walks

out across one open palm
to the next
held together

my heart to yours

~
la tyson

Tomorrow morning I will be taking my youngest daughter for an ultrasound on a large growth on her wrist. We have been to the doctor's and although they are almost certain it is benign, because it continues to grow and does not go away even if drained, that we have to rule out every possibility. She is scheduled for surgery already in September - but if it is something more serious, the surgery will be bumped up. Please keep Samantha in your prayers. I cannot pretend, that as the mum, I am a little worried, but I feel confident that it as serious as it could be, but prayers definitely would not hurt. :-)

much love,

Leigh-Anne

i lay down
my body
on this bare piece
of earth
breathe in
the scent of grass heavy with dew
life borders
borders where
the passing made history
with each footstep

skin pressed
down
i watch
through open fingers
above my prone self

palms to the wide black dome
supplicant
turn my hands over
and
over
Night
to break the sky
until the stars
fall endlessly
through the space
between
me and eternity

another turn
more stars fall
caught in the netted strands of my hair

when it all falls apart

a part of me
finds
its way

home

~
LA Tyson

death – it is such a difficult topic. Recently it came up here . No sooner had I written about some of my experience/ dance with death in an attempt to offer some personal understanding on the subject, the very next day, a  very dear friend of mine lost her son at birth. It was a heartbreaking moment and gave me some pause to think about why this subject continues to come up for me, but not only that, that people around me are either passing or dealing directly with this loss. What I wrote, was not to say that I find dealing with death easy – in fact quite the opposite. I felt a profound sadness for the passing of this young angel, George, who never knew this world, at least not this time around. I will say though, my heart goes out to the bravery and wisdom of my friend and her husband as they move forward with the brief life of their son, and how they are honouring his life. I am deeply proud of them.

How we, individually, approach and are affected by death is very very different. I have a great deal of respect for everyone and their own experience with this transition. Even if we remove the religious, spiritual implications of death, and look at ‘it’ from a purely organic standpoint – there is transition at the most basic level, a cycle that we cannot escape from. Of course, I do not believe that we exist in only one level, that all levels of existence are equally integrated, and this transition touches all levels, which is why we, I, have such a sharp time dealing with the physical loss of someone. I think it is normal. So are tears. Both nourish and strengthen the soul. Accepting the process, for me, does not mean becoming unemotional – instead, it is about accepting that those emotions are part of the entire transition. There will be grief, tears, sadness, anger even, in acknowledging someone’s passing – even your own passing as it approaches. It’s ok that there is, even if there isn’t, that’s ok. There’s no rule that says you must do this or that. Just let yourself feel and give what you need to.

There just are no easy answers. Sometimes, no answers at all. Sometimes it is easier to accept our own mortality, the coming of our own death, than it is to accept the passing of someone we love, we know. Sometimes the opposite is true. No nice ribbons to tie everything up neatly with. But, getting through is getting through. No matter how difficult, everything happens for a reason. There are not always words or means to explain why, or what will come as a result of someone passing at any point in their life, but there is always meaning.  I have said this before – death comes when it comes. I just try to live each day with one question in mind. What have I left undone? I try to live, love, laugh and find the beauty in every day.

In the end, I am deeply humbled by the life of a stillborn child, and inspired by the family who grieves and loves in his passing.

Xo
la

I have been doing a terrible job in taking the time to write lately. There is alot of resistance going on, resistance to cleaning out the rafters of my mind, and avoidance. Mostly I have been avoiding doing the cleaning, but in the process of doing that, the writing has slowed to a drizzle. Whenever the sunshines, I find myself refusing to be indoors, and after one of the hardest winters that I can remember, I don't blame myself. It's an active time, on many levels, and the time for writing will come - likely when it is warm enough to stay outside for hours not wrapped up in a thick blanket. Fingers crossed, that will be in the next week or so.

Today, happily, I spent alot of it outside, despite it being chilly, with my daughters and the rest of the family to celebrate two birthdays and go for a nice bike ride. I am happy to have been able to spend the time with everyone. It is a time of big and little changes, and we all needed to just share some laughter and good food for awhile to remember what is important - or at least, that is what I needed.

Shaping the garden is taking a little longer. I am meeting resistance there too. I have very little done, a handful of things, like the patio which now has some netting and curtains for privacy. Big hugs to my hub for putting together the lounger yesterday. He's not the handiest of people, and kept his cursing outside while he worked. I do appreciate how much he did - we will definitely enjoy his construction this summer. I definitely will. It's a perfect place for reading. I did this too. I wish I had gotten to setting up the pond - but it is too cold yet to put the fish out. Next weekend definitely this will happen, and the weeding will get done sometime this week- maybe even some annuals will be planted, who knows.

Keeping busy has somehow become another method of avoidance for me - yes productive, but also one distraction balanced precariously on the next distraction. Believe me I am a master of become distracted by flowers and details. So what am I avoiding? I wish I knew. I just feel it. Some 'it' thing that has been weighing on me since the beginning of January... heavy, dormant, growing. Sounds ominous. Likely isn't. I have my suspicions that is just change again, lurking about, trying to be all ' hey i'm change, I'm so threatening, be afraid, be very afraid' yeah whatever.

The good thing about keeping busy is that the really important thoughts don't get lost in the 'hey I'm busy freaking out here' thoughts. Oh, did I mention that I just finished making another blanket? Started another one. Idle hands and all. My grandmother was a wise woman. Whatever it is - this 'it' thing pain in my butt, I am shrugging 'it' off in exchange for spending time with family, soaking in the sunshine and garden stillness, and letting the writing do its own thing, while I am catching up. Besides, that is what holidays are for - regroup, rest and rejuvenate.

xo bring on the roses.

la

so... I'm officially done Script Frenzy... I actually finished 7 days ago, but due to my brain being overloaded with other junk, I forgot where I saved the finished script (not on my hard drive)and couldn't validate my page count (blahblah). Tonight, I suddenly had a flash of where I had saved it (on a flash drive that was shoved in the bottom of my briefcase) - just in time to validate on the Script Frenzy site and receive my "I won" pic.

PHEW! thank goodness I found the script. Going to go through the edit process and see what comes out the other end. All in all though, this was a great experience. I set out to see if I could write a full script in 30 days... and I did. I even like the story... hahaha.

ok... onto the next thing!

Hi Everyone,

I wanted to let everyone know that we are still working on raising some money to help send our very dear friend, Sandra (who is the cultivator of Diving Deeper Writing Workshop) to attend a writing retreat next month.  We have raised a little less $500 so far, but we are still in need of another $1,000 to $1,500. There is no donation too small – every little bit helps. Sandra works very hard managing the  Diving Deeper workshop here on Gaia and asks nothing in return. This retreat with Deena Metzer means a lot to her, and would be a great experience.  In turn, I know that we will benefit from her experience there as she shares with us afterwards. Her experience will enrich us all. I have added the description of the retreat below as well as a link to the Chip-In site that Ayla/ Michelle has set up for this fundraiser.

Please, give what you want, and make this dream come true for a very special person. If all 300 of us pitched in just $5 each we'd meet our goal. That's the same as buying a couple of cups of coffee or a cheap night at the movies. The crunch is on – the retreat starts May 16th. We can do this!!

Much love,
Leigh-Anne/ Quietlaughter



http://lovingandreamauk.chipin.com/sandra-to-go-to-deena-met



Writing Intensive  – By application
May 16 - 22, 2009
Pine Mountain, California. [Los Angeles area.]


This workshop is for a small group of people who will gather to devote themselves to their work, that is to the work. The structure of the week will resemble other workshops offered by Deena — directed writing, reading to each other, dream telling, meditation, silence, solitude, teaching, questioning, daring, ritual, ceremony….

The state of our world and what is being asked to meet it requires all of us to consider our assumptions and understandings about who we are as writers, peacemakers, and members of a community of beings. For this reason, Deena has been meditating deeply on the purpose of our coming together at this time, seeking to understand the true calling of Spirit in regard to this Intensive. As a result of this contemplation, our time together will be a council, guided by Spirit, the ancestors, animals, elementals, inviting and embracing the voices of both the visible and invisible presences. Using the tools of writing, story telling, dreaming, prayer, silence, and divination, we will seek to move more fully into the writing paths that each of us have been called to on behalf of the planet and the restoration of creation. We will address our personal healing if and when it is necessary to remove the obstacles to fully embracing those paths, though the emphasis will be on global, rather than personal, healing. For these reasons, this will be the first Writers Intensive offered that welcomes both women and men.

Writing is a sacred act of conscience because the writer has been given the gift — stories, insight, vision, images and words — on behalf of the community. In accepting and using these gifts, the writer has profound responsibilities to herself, community, and Spirit; she must proceed with consciousness and ethical reflection because writing creates culture. Words are sacred: what we say, how we say it, to whom we speak, these are urgent considerations. We cannot be innocent or shy about our gifts and wisdom and must step forward to meet the urgencies of this time if we are to help create the kind of world we truly wish to live in, if we are to imagine a Story with a future.

Through the experience of living in a field of interlocking stories and alliances that may at first appear random but are deeply connected and dynamic, we will enter into a web of dreams, stories and voices, human and non-human, visible and invisible, to find and explore new cultural forms and language aligned with Spirit for the sake of healing, community, peacemaking, the natural world, and visions for the future. To enter into such a dialog is to enter into a Council. It is the discourse between the writer's self and this council that invites knowledge and vision. In this Intensive we will examine what happens when this wisdom comes alive on the page. Toward this, the ideas explored in Deena's new book, From Grief into Vision: A Council will be at the very core of our work together.

Deena is inviting approximately 20 people to meet with her in Pine Mountain, California in order to engage, alone and in community, in the rigorous work of writing and creativity. Working as we do in her groups, a map will come forth and we will follow it, each in our own way, into the world of language, imagination, concern, ideas, beauty, history, myth and story.

Living together cooperatively for a week, addressing the issues that must be addressed, we will explore our lives, souls, minds, and creative work through formal and informal teaching, directed writing, dream and story telling, meditation, silence, solitude, music, improvisation, council, visioning, ritual, and ceremony.

This is a retreat for serious and experienced writers. The work is difficult, arduous, often risky, engaging, beautiful and thrilling. Though you will be guided, it is expected that you are also self-motivated and will come prepared to devote yourself to what concerns and fascinates you, to what is calling to be written, particularly in these times. We will work in prose, but the workshop lends itself to writing in any form, fiction and non-fiction, prose and poetry.

The description, above, is only a possibility. This Intensive is intended to gather together those individuals who are willing to heed the call and direction of  spirit in such times and, accordingly, to devote themselves to developing the gifts, skills and visions given to them for the sake of restoring creation. We trust that Spirit will gather those who need to be gathered and that, individually and in concert, we will engage in the training and work to become who we are being asked to become and to participate in the visioning that is being offered to and asked of us in these times.
~