Dreams

 "A single dream is more powerful than a thousand realities" Nathaniel Hawthorne

May 20th is World Bee Day which was decided by the UN. The date was chosen as it was the birthday of the famous beekeeper, Anton Jansa, who wanted to draw the world's attention to the importance of bees to the survival of humanity. It was believed crucial to make others aware that bees are considered to be the most instrumental in pollination which ensures the supply of food, keeps agriculture thriving, and biodiverse. He wanted the world to know that bees also play a role in lessening the effects of climate change and conserving the environment. Then this would lay grounds for the care and protection of bees over the long term and aid in the solution of reducing poverty and hunger as well as sustaining a thriving environment that is biodiverse.  This may have been the dream of Anton Jansa and probably the dream of those who began this initiative of the UN. 

In the past couple of weeks, I have been learning so many new things about bees and being reminded of others I had forgotten, in preparation for sharing with my kindergarteners. Some that I found so interesting were that bees can count and understand zero, they dance to communicate with others about where to find food, and one of the most interesting that I discovered this time was that they may even dream. The research suggests that because of all the work their brains do, rest is of great importance, and they sleep five to eight hours a day. Their antennae have been observed moving in distinct patterns as they sleep which indicates dreaming. If this is the case, it is believed they could be storing memories as we do when we dream as well as allowing their bodies to rest, repair, and rejuvenate. 

I know it is important not to anthropomorphize other living creatures, but I wonder if science shows us that they follow the same dream process in sleep that humans do, could they also have dreams in their waking hours? It was an interesting thought and discussion with five-year-olds this week to think of bees having cherished aspirations, ambitions, or ideals. Do they daydream about becoming the queen bee as they fight others to the death to attain this role?  Are they working in collaboration with nature to fulfill the dream of ending world hunger?  

I had a friend in high school that had a world map on his wall with push pins decorating it.  He told me these were the places he wanted to go when he finished school. This was his dream. I am not sure how he arrived at this dream. He was reading a lot of books by Edmund Hillary, who also happened to be a beekeeper,  about his climbing Mt. Everest and his other adventures, and this resonated with him.  He wanted to see these places for himself. He also had thought he may want to be a beekeeper one day too but I digress.  I didn't realize that all through his university days, he was working and saving money to pay for his higher education as well as trying to save to bring this dream to life when his degree was complete. After four years, he packed a very minimalist backpack and headed off.  On this trip, he would visit, Australia, New Zealand, and Fiji. Then the money ran out as well as the fuel for his dream and he returned home. It was not long after his return that he began plotting his next adventure. This time he would cover most of Europe, and Asia in the year away. He traveled with a friend for this year and although much of their travel unfolded spontaneously, there was a pull to Mt. Everest that kept him moving in this direction. The day arrived finally and the two hiked for twenty-three days to the base camp of Everest while tenting along the way. He told me later that even though his travels didn't quite end at the base camp when he reached that point a feeling came over him that he couldn't quite explain but knew that he was ready to go home. He was ready to dream a new dream. This friend, adventurer, and dreamer later became my husband and life partner.   His dreams have continued to change over the years but the thread that has woven through his reality is that he continues to dream.   

I recently heard Arthur Brooks, a Harvard professor talking about the key to having happiness sprinkled throughout our lives was to be able to have aspirations and desires, in other words, dreams throughout our entire lives and not to rely on the fulfillment of those dreams we had in our first half of life to sustain us for our whole lives. There are so many dreams to dream when we are young, dreaming of love, home, career, children, and travel which really translate to our dreams of making a life. These are the traditional dreams with so many other unique ones that take us on varying paths as we listen to our own hearts along the way but he was saying how important it is to have the dreams for the second half of our lives as well. This is not to say that we are carrying over, holding on to or ruminating over the dreams that we didn't fulfill from those years. It is about being honest with ourselves and our longings, passions, and desires and finding new ways to dream.  

Just as without bees humanity will not exist, we as humans can become dead inside without our dreams. Dreams represent our aliveness. They are our promise to ourselves that there is a tomorrow and that we can indeed be fully alive at all stages of life.  A few years ago I was teaching a yoga class to a group of teachers and I believe the theme of the class was about being fully present and I referenced that life was not a dress rehearsal. A couple of weeks later, one of the teachers came up to me and said that what I had said had really spoken to her and that she had gone home and talked to her husband about it. She said that they had always wanted to learn to ballroom dance so she had enrolled them in a class and they were really enjoying it. I was happy for her that she was acting on a dream. We ended up in different schools so our yoga sessions ended and when I heard of her a couple of years later, I learned that her husband had died unexpectedly. My first thought beyond the tragedy and grief was of the two of them dancing together hand in hand. There are so many others we come in contact with that are living with agitation or numbness and are not even sure why.  They seem to have given up on the concept of dreams for themselves or the world around them.  Somewhere along the way, they got the message that dreams were for the young or the self-absorbed. They believed that it was too late for the dream they had or they weren't interested in the traditional dreams that others had projected onto them. I think many of us are using life-giving energy to deny our dreams and keep them hidden and in this way, they are not able to come to light. I think that when we don't share our dreams and continue to believe in the possibility or steps we can take towards them or the creation of new ones, we may be dying a little inside and we are burdening those around us or in our care with that knowledge whether spoken or unspoken. We are sending the message to our families and friends that dreaming is not important and that it is also unrealistic.

Right now my husband and I are dreaming of creating a small flower garden to nourish both ourselves and the bees. A small dream but one we share together. We are also holding close to our dream of living in a world where being safe applies to all living beings and creatures. Where people are allowed to have sovereignty over themselves and their bodies, Where children come first and adults do whatever it takes to ensure their well-being. The beauty of these kinds of dreams is that they allow all of us collectively to live in our world as it exists, with the perseverance to continue to dream and take the steps that we are able to bring dreams to life that collectively create the world we all want to live in. 

Standing Out

 

"We were not meant to fit into this world perfectly but to live in such a way that might forge a path all our own" Brianna Wiest

A few years ago there was an article written by a local journalist about a tree that was getting noticed on the horizon of the  Northside of the city.  It could be seen from one of the area bridges and from some places on the local university campus. The tree .with its massive stature was a white pine that stood alone in an area that had been clear-cut over a decade ago.  New growth had begun around the tree but did not stand out beside this majestic pine that was close to two hundred years old. The media consulted with a local forestry professor about the survival of the lone tree and found that the tree was probably what they call a legacy tree.  This particular type of tree is often left as a legacy tree because of its deep roots that allow them to survive intense weather storms.  The tree's role is to seed in the next generation. The legacy tree can often live into the next generation of forest and become an emergent tree that canopies the grown forest and it could live for another three hundred years while dominating the landscape. I remember reading this article and what I found most intriguing was the number of people who had taken note of this tree and wondered about it.  How its ability to stand out had so many putting a visit to this tree on their bucket lists, as well as the number of people who had already been to see it.   I am not sure that this tree's preference would have been to stand alone or become such an anomaly but the role of creating a whole new forest was an immense responsibility that it was fulfilling beautifully. The tree was standing out and would find a  new place to fit into again.

I started thinking about this tree after I attended the graduation ceremony of one of the local universities, St. Thomas.  The ceremony began with the bestowing of two honorary degrees.  One woman was a Passamaquoddy elder and teacher. During the ceremony, she shared her music in her mother tongue while drumming. When they talked of her notable contributions to music, they spoke of her as a song carrier and described her tedious work of going through all of the music of her ancestors that had been banned and was only available in New Brunswick archives. She was able to record all of the songs for her people to bring back their culture to them.  She was noted as saying," when you bring the songs back, you're going to bring the dances back. You're going to bring the people back. You're going to bring everything back."  Most notable to me is that this woman had witnessed the repression of her people for standing out culturally and now through her efforts was bringing back wholeness through song to her community.   The second woman to receive an honorary degree was Fredericton- based writer, educator, and historian who was dedicated to preserving the histories of  Black New Brunswickers. As did the first recipient, she has spent tireless hours with her research to locate and restore abandoned Black cemeteries. She has been featured as " one of thirty-three Black Canadians Making Change Now".As a black woman growing up in a small rural community, she too was using the ways that she had stood out and experienced racism,  to bring healing, celebration of culture, and belonging to future generations.   Not unlike the legacy tree.  There was also a lone graduate who was also notable at the ceremony.  She was receiving a bachelor of arts degree like everyone else but her story differs and puts her in a statistic category that stood out to me.  At fourteen years of age, she voluntarily left an unhealthy family situation and became a foster child.  She was in foster care for all of her formative years and is one of the 3%  of people who go through this system that successfully receive a degree in a secondary education program. She also used the ways that she stood out to find her community.  There is one last person who stood out for me at this ceremony and her name was Dr. Gloria Paul. My daughter received a prize in Environment and Society that was in Dr. Paul's name as part of her legacy after her passing in 2017.  I later learned that  Gloria too had received an honorary degree, in  2008, from St. Thomas for her longtime environmental and peace activism. Gloria had survived the London Blitz bombing air raid during World War II as a child and was very passionate about ending all war.   Gloria's experiences led her to create a  peaceful sanctuary for travelers to visit and stay in Hoyt, New Brunswick which she and her companion named, Pilgrim House. This was a Christian retreat that attracted many over the forty years that she lived and shared this space.  She, along with her long-time companion, Yvonne Mersereau, won the YMCA's Peace Medal in 2007 and was instrumental in the installation of the peace pole in our city. She could be seen even in her later years, at environmental rallys' for funding cuts to the environment and speaking about the environmental impact of war to university students. She was the voice for Agent Orange survivors in the Saint John River Valley and in Vietnam.  Gloria was also a psychiatric nurse,  a warm person who is quoted as" living her days towards giving birth to a world where peace was always possible". It would seem that she has become a legacy tree for many including my daughter who is like-minded and equally passionate.      

It is no coincidence that so many of the beautiful souls that stand out in this world have had their share of challenges.  As is evident in these stories, sometimes we stand out despite our wishes, actions or control, and other times we stand out as a result of them.   There are so many examples in nature of this.  The unbelievable struggles before the beauty emerges, and the butterfly stands out or the lotus plant who is surrounded by murky water and finds a way to bloom the most beautiful pink and white petalled flowers.  Like these examples in nature, we are led to our unique imprint on the world.  

I know that if I had been giving the Valedictorian speech that day, I would have chosen this theme of standing out like the legacy tree. I would have reminded the graduates not to shrink in situations of discomfort but to embrace standing out.  I would point out that their adversity may be the seeding for other generations.  The ways that they are different or struggle, may be what others are in need of seeing, noticing, witnessing, processing and as a result, learning from. That not fitting perfectly is necessary for growth and not in a toxic positivity way like the long-time narratives that your difficulties make you stronger, better. chosen, holy, or are chosen for you, because life sometimes just happens and it is what we are able to be and learn in spite of it at times. I would remind them that they are creating a road map for themselves and their life, a way through, and for all the ways that their story will have elements of adversity, it may be this same story that saves someone else's life, ignites their passion for justice, liberates them from their secrets or shame.   I would end with a plea that when they have forged that path all their own that they share it in community with their fellow life travelers so we can stand out in all the ways we do and fit in simultaneously.

Dandelions

"The only difference between a flower and a weed is judgment"  Wayne Dyer

 The month of May is when the world seems to come alive. One of the first bursts of color is the dandelions that begin to crop up in ditches, fields, and our lawns. You may be indifferent to this plant or carry some strong feelings toward it. Either way, it is impossible not to notice its presence.  As an elementary teacher or a parent of young children, many of you can relate to dandelions becoming a daily offering.  Students pick one or many flowers after each time outside to give as a gift when they arrive back indoors.  Always patiently waiting for the reaction of those receiving them. This week, as usual,  I started a make-shift vase to add the carefully chosen but often mangled dandelions.   I wasn't the only one to start to receive these gifts this week.  At the end of the school day, there are a few students who do not take the school bus and I wait with them for their parents to arrive.   On this day,  I watched one of my kindergarteners bend down to pick a bouquet of dandelions for their parent before running to meet them, as they stood by the cars lining the sidewalk.  Each student that followed did the same. It never fails to bring up big feelings for me because of the sweet sentiment.   In their own way, they are handing up a bouquet of the most authentic love with deep feeling, disguised as a weed. As I stand there witnessing this, I am instinctively choking back my emotional reaction when really I should just let a tear or two emerge.  Instead, I smile and point out what is happening to the staff member standing closest to me.  Of course, I couldn't help thinking about how feelings and dandelions have so much in common and how we can learn so much about ourselves from observing Nature.  

 Dandelions symbolize persistence and strong will. They are actually composed of many small ray flowers. Our feelings are composed of an array of emotions that we have attached a story to based on our experiences.   Dandelions continue to grow just from one flower and as a result, can cover an entire lawn over time from that initial weed. Feelings too can grow out of a single experience and clutter our entire mind with the stories we tell.  If we are being honest, there is really no way to get rid of dandelions that is not destructive to ourselves or others.  I think this holds true of our feelings as well. We need to accept that we will feel many feelings in every moment. Dandelions develop deep roots over time and extracting them or trying to extinguish them with chemicals,  or other means is not the best option.  Masking our feelings, denying them, or trying to separate from them with substances just allows them to develop deeper roots as well.    Some people have very intense physical reactions to Dandelions and the same can be true for people,  as a result of their feelings.  Just like fighting dandelions and wasting so much energy on getting rid of them, is just energy wasted,  the same goes for the energy we waste on denying, avoiding, reacting, or trying to get rid of big feelings.  As with dandelions, the only real way to deal with them is to take them on one by one and when we do we see many aspects that are powerful, healthy, and life-giving.   The dandelion's roots are used for tea, the leaves provide nutrition in a salad, and the flower creates seed, new life, and whimsy with bouquets, necklaces, and maybe even a crown or two.  Perhaps our feelings are providing us with gifts as well, and maybe there are underlying things we would not have noticed without the strong feelings.  It seems safe to say that we are not always emotional about the thing in front of us or happening to us but maybe our bodies are giving us a message like; this is not right for us, leave, set a boundary,  you need to rest, try something new, notice your fear and step around it or see its wisdom. Noticing the messages attached to the feelings is how they are processed.  It is how we are able to let go when we need to and step up or show up for things that our feelings let us know are really important.  We have been taught to be discerning when it comes to expressing our feelings. We think about how they will be received, what is too big, and how much is too little. Just as somewhere along the way we were told that dandelions were just a nuisance. I am not saying a person should demonstrate their feelings about everything or even share them with anyone that does not feel like a safe space but we may need to hold our own judgment on ourselves for feeling the multitude of things that come up for us each and every day. Our feelings like Dandelions have a cycle and we must trust that they are serving us whether we are labeling them good or bad.  If we dial back the negative feelings we also tend to dial back our joyful ones and then this just looks like indifference.  It seems completely unrealistic that we should not have big feelings about what is happening in the world around us and our inability to change these circumstances. It also seems counterintuitive not to act on feelings about injustices we are witnessing, or express our elation for the good in our life.  I don't believe we were ever meant to become complacent about things that matter just as we were never meant to carry all of life's problems on our shoulders.  I listened to a woman interviewed this week that was saying that compassion fatigue is real because it is not humanly possible to be involved in all of the world's sorrows. We have gotten used to tempering our feelings and detaching from them and this has become normalized.     I could give you the grocery list breakdown of what seems to be the triggers of the big feelings we are experiencing as a collective as well as our own individual ones but I think it is just  as validating and comforting to know that none of us are alone in what we are feeling.   Like dandelions, we have to expect that these big feelings will continue to show up in unexpected places at times and that they will grow and cycle through as they were meant to.  Some of our feelings can be as wild and organic as dandelions tend to be and in those fields of feelings  we can sift through the weeds before  choosing what needs to be let go

Can you remember the joy that dandelions evoked for you as a child?  When you saw them come up for the first time, did you pick them to give by the bunches to someone you loved?  What about noticing how deeply rooted they were and how much joy there was in blowing their seed puffs to make a wish, believing they held some kind of magic that could fulfill our longing.   Children love dandelions and see their beauty. They also allow all of the big feelings and don't hold them inside and I believe they are healthier for it.  

  Whether we are offering up or being offered a suitcase of our feelings or someone else's or a bouquet of weeds, in this moment may we see the gift, the honor of someone trusting us with their vulnerability, and may we allow the dandelions of the emotions to be accepted, processed, and expressed with ease. Perhaps we can sift through to create a bouquet that we can stand in front of another with and in this way,  share all of the highs and lows of being human and big feeling in a world that may expect otherwise.  

Home

 "A man travels the world over  in search of what he needs and returns home to find it" George Moore

My great-grandmother's home is preserved in a historical settlement a forty-minute drive from my house. Stripped back to fit into a 19th-century village, it was dragged across the icy Wolastoq River when the settlement was created almost sixty years ago.  I have stepped inside this home many times over the years, seen the stairs where my father sat as a small child, the room my parents slept in as newlyweds when they went to visit.  I can remember being in this house with tourists when a woman spoke up to say she was an energy healer and could feel the energy of the family that had lived here.   I always remember wondering why my great-grandmother wanted her home to be part of this settlement.  I suppose we all would like our legacy to live on and maybe this was her way of ensuring this.  Her home was obviously important to her and part of her identity.  I have used house and home interchangeably here, but when I think about my great grandmother and her house.  I wonder if she truly found a home here?

A home is defined as where one lives permanently, especially as a family member. For other species, it is a place they instinctively return to.  On the other hand, a house is a building for human habitation usually with other family members.  

I think of how distinctly different these two entities are by definition and how much we confuse them as a society.  I think of the indigenous people and how their home was often changing by way of where they were getting their food or creating shelter from the elements.   I think of the newcomers and refugees who find themselves displaced and moving to new regions out of necessity. Whether to survive, find safety,  peace, or new hope.  Then there are all of the people that have endured weather disasters since the beginning of time and had their houses destroyed. We even have a name that stigmatizes people who do not have permanent shelter in our communities, the homeless, as though not having shelter is significant enough to define who someone is.  All of the ways that both a house and even a home by definition, can be unstable, everchanging, and nonexistent for some,  it is clear that home encompasses so much more. 

Home can be one of the most comforting words in the English language. Without a sense of home, there is a feeling of fragmentation, as those who have experienced this can attest to. Even the idea of home can bring about many impassioned emotions.   When I think of home I think of refuge or sanctuary. If I imagine a place I feel at home in I would not think of the physical space or structure but a sanctuary created by my books,  plants, and paintings that adorn the space and reflect back feelings of comfort and identity. The refuge comes from being surrounded by my people and animals as they create the unconditional love and space that allows me to feel truly at home in their presence.  We have all heard the familiar phrases, home is where the heart is, home is the person or place you return to again and again, but the home that remains the most attainable for us is the home we  carry with us on the  inside 

I think we spend a lot of our lives searching for our home.  We may travel throughout the world looking for a place that feels like home to us or to find the place that makes where we are returning feel more like home.  We may attach ourselves to people that feel like home. This may be why we often lose a sense of home when someone we love dies.   We miss them so because they meant home to us maybe even before we could find home for ourselves.  

I have lived now for twenty-seven years in the same house and most of those years with the same three people and pets but finding my home continues to be a ritual I  return to every day that I live here.  Most of the time now, I find my home on my yoga mat, my meditation cushion, in prayer, outside in stillness as I watch the sunrise. All of these things allow me to settle or land in my body. This is where I don't have to search for comfort, safety, love, or acceptance.  This is my true home.  Like the hummingbird returning in the first week of May or the Salmon finding their way upstream to return to their home, we have to keep coming back to this place inside ourselves. It is in this space that we find freedom even when we are confined, peace during war and upheaval, and self love in times of self-depreciation 

Our great grandmothers, grandmothers, or mothers may not have known the privilege of seeking refuge or finding sanctuary within themselves or being surrounded by their loved ones but maybe they have found home within us. With each barrier we cross, each burden we release, every regret we unleash, every privilege we acquire, and every person we help to own their bodies, their hearts, and their minds so these places can become home.  Perhaps,  we all find new ways to be in the home we are given, that we carry wherever we are.  

A Sacred Pause

"Give yourself the permission to pause, to create sacred space,  -the space to consciously choose how you want to respond to any situation." Dr. Debra Reble

My oldest daughter finished university just days ago and will graduate in a few short weeks.  She survived two years of mostly online learning and classes and only recently stepped foot into a few live moments of class with her peers and professors.  The graduation will be in person where she will sit in a space with many others that have lived her similar experience, for the first time.  

After talking to her, sharing in her excitement and accomplishments,  thinking of the whirlwind of moments that have led to now, the stark contrast between her university experiences and my own, we realized that one thing remains the same. We were both recounting our feelings about living in the pause, the space between.  On one hand, she feels a sense of relief that the coursework is behind her, while at the same time feeling all the feels about an ending, new beginnings, and the pressure to move on to the next thing, in this case, working and preparing for her new program in the fall even though there hasn't yet been time to celebrate her accomplishments with ceremony. 

I recently did some art journaling and created a deck of action words with related questions to reflect on when the card was pulled.   It was a way of assisting myself in setting daily intentions and carrying out purposeful actions.  One of the words I included was pause.  We don't always think of this word as an action but as in the experience of my daughter, we do have to actively take that moment, that hour, day, week, month, or even sometimes longer to pause. In the natural world,  the best example of a necessary pause is sleep.  We need sleep to physically and mentally be rejuvenated and nourished.  This can't occur without the space that this natural pause creates for us. 

A pause is a temporary disengagement where we are no longer moving toward an end or goal.   We don't get many of these pauses in life unless we create them for ourselves.  Often when we pause or we hear of someone else doing so for a period of time,  we assume that something must be wrong or maybe we feel we aren't enough in the pause without the striving or planning.   This feeling of our own or the fear of the judgment of others can keep us moving further into a future that will take us on our way to somewhere else, meaning we will miss the opportunity to feel what it is to be in this space.  

The pause is there for a reason. It can give you a moment to grieve a loved one,  mark an end to something or the beginning of something else.   The pause allows you to embrace the celebration or joy of the moment. It makes space for laughter and playfulness.  The pause gives us the space often needed between noticing our thoughts and moving into action, between the inhale and the exhale of our breath which can bring so much clarity,  the recognizing of our feelings, and then choosing what we do with them. It can be the way in to feel what is wrong in our bodies, what is important in our relationships, our likes and dislikes, our growth and regressions, our longings, and our regret.  Without the pause, we just have behavior with no awareness. 

If I asked you to pause and take that moment to just exist, clearing the table of the mind, temporarily wiping away the attachments, fears, and ambition, would you sit like a stone or flitter frantically about? Would your mind stay clear or flood with a thousand shoulds? Could you stay in celebration of you, of the moment, of where you are now or would you reach for the ledge that would pull you to the next floor of the building? Would you feel like exclaiming, what's next, is this it, did I make it, fix it, break it?  Could you surrender the angst for your own praise and approval of you here and now, for the hug of a loved one or the remembrance of being enough?  

For my daughter, and anyone finding themselves in the space between, I hope you continue a practice of preparing for and living a life that honors the sacred pause, one where you are allowed to catch your breath, change directions, relish a moment,  an accomplishment and just take up space. I hope you can follow the lightness of your being and make choices and decisions that reflect who you are, how you feel,  and what you need in every pause and space with confidence and ease.  

For every person who feels themselves leaning into their future, may you stop as long as you need, to make room for truly living the life that is here in the now in this most sacred pause. 

Anchors

What anchors you?  Is it your routine, a practice, a person, family, community, nature,  music, movement, or spirituality? Perhaps it is all or none of these.  Maybe you haven't found your anchors yet.  Anchors have been traditionally used to moor a ship to provide stability in a storm so the ship doesn't get tossed off course or further out to sea.  Our anchors can make the difference between thriving and surviving, feeling supported or disconnected, grounded or untethered, rested or restless.   In the moment, we may not always be aware of their function of holding us firmly planted on the ground.

The Wizard of Oz has been a favorite story of mine.  There have been many interpretations of this story over the years from political analogies to spiritual inspiration.  What if the Wizard of Oz, through the character Dorothy, is a story about finding what anchors us and how we can use these anchors, as Dorothy did to come back to her center of ease.  We can use anchors to maneuver our way through all the storms of our lives and to gain the resolve to feel grounded and at home where we are as the storms continue to ebb and flow.

If you’re not familiar with the story of The Wizard of Oz it is about a young girl named Dorothy, from Kansas,who along with her dog Toto, gets displaced from home in a storm. They are without family, connection, and support, and have forgotten how to navigate life's discord.   Dorothy is told to follow the yellow brick road to see the Wizard who would help her find her way.  On route to Oz, she encounters a Lion, A Tinman, and Scarecrow. They all decide to accompany her to see the Wizard. The Lion hopes to receive courage from the Wizard, the Tinman a heart, and the Scarecrow a brain.   When they finally meet the Wizard, he says they must retrieve the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West before he would grant their wishes.   After doing so, they return to Oz and the Wizard makes certificates and awards for the Lion, Tinman, and Scarecrow, to prove they have had their wishes fulfilled.  He gives Dorothy a pair of Ruby Slippers which represent her own anchor and explains that they will help her get back to Kansas.  Glinda the Good Witch, who is also part of the story and the one who assisted in retrieving the broom of the evil witch, tells Dorothy that she could get back home all along, she just had to believe. In other words, she had to come back to what anchors her.

Dorothy could be me; she could be you; she could be anyone who gets swept up in the inevitable storms of life over and over again. Dorothy, like us, just wants to stay grounded and rooted and find her way back to a stable center,  which home and Kansas mean for her.  She really wants to be at ease with herself and her people but she gets thrown off course by the storm that arises. Sometimes even more than one storm may be brewing at a time, as with Dorothy, when she not only has to find her way home but also has to engage in conflict with the Wicked Witch.  Like we all may feel at times,  Dorothy feels disempowered and unsure of her ability to meet her needs herself and how to disengage from the storms around her and not be swept up in the chaos.   Dorothy’s interactions with others, caught in their own storms, further confirm for her that she needs to continue pursuing support outside of herself, as we often do. She brings along the others, the Tinman, Scarecrow, and the Lion, who represent her own untethered heart, mind, and spirit. She follows the critics or well-intentioned guides and tries to gain their support. Dorothy follows the yellow brick road, pursues the broom of the wicked witch, and journeys to Oz to receive his wisdom and magic, being pulled into more storms along the way.

This is where Dorothy finds the truth and affirmation that we may be seeking in our own lives. Dorothy realizes,  that the yellow brick road is just a linear, progressive path set by others' timelines that have not shared her lived experiences or ours.   She sees that her own heart, mind, and spirit experience is where she needs to stay rooted.  After seeking advice from others, who were considered to have all the answers, she understands that regardless of their good intentions, it was her practice, her people, and her experience that would bring her home.   The Ruby Slippers she receives represent the anchor that brings a  moment of clarity and remembering that can lead her to a place of balance in the storm.    I love Dorothy and all she represents. I love that she shows us our path is not linear,  our experiences are our own, we are never alone, and that we have many anchors within and around us to provide both grace and stability through the moments of imbalance in our lives. 

 When you are being hard on yourself for getting off course or being swept up by the latest storm, let Dorothy remind you that it is all a practice and that you are the guide, light and anchor keeping you coming back to yourself and navigating the storms of life.

Benevolence

 

It is early April 2009, I find myself in a gymnasium at a local middle school wearing a superhero shirt and cape with a seven and nine-year-old in tow. There are groups of people, families of adults with children, and organizers scattered throughout the large area. I find my way to the perimeter of the room, hoping to go unnoticed. I observe the energy as they prepare to organize everyone to participate in a SuperHero walk through the downtown streets of our small city in recognition of Autism awareness or acceptance, whatever the buzz term of the moment was.  There were many thoughts going through my head at the time but I can remember one being as a neurotypical female, I was sure I had no idea what it was like to be neurodiverse on the spectrum and I couldn't imagine that all neurodiverse people on the spectrum were feeling the same way about their individual challenges, experiences and ways of navigating a world that was not set up for difference, so I was quite sure that this scenario was not playing out to be one I was feeling comfortable being a part of.  However, at this moment, I also witnessed a room full of kind individuals who were believing in the good of their actions and because of this, I  felt I needed to be appreciative, in the name of kindness.  I rationalized that I was a very newly appointed member of a club I hadn't ever imagined myself a part of so everyone else must know what they are doing.  Despite my best efforts to ignore my gut feeling,  I still felt off and awkward. I was unsure of the Superhero paraphernalia and what it had to do with Autism.  My daughter had never expressed an interest in superheroes, Dora the explorer maybe but I wasn't thinking she qualified at the time.  Questions arose in the moment for me too, like was being aware that neurodiversity exists in the form of autism really something to be moved by, or was needing to promote accepting neurodiverse people or any other marginalized group, not part of some larger systematic, societal issue that was more than my autistic daughter and our family could shoulder the burden of? The walk was raising money in support of the local Autism center so why was I still unsure about participating?  What I really wanted at that moment was to know the perspective of an autistic adult. Did they not just want to be seen, heard, represented, appreciated, and celebrated? Not cured, tolerated, or pathologized? However, the room was devoid of any.    The only adults in the room seemed very pleased with themselves and their kind efforts.  The children, mostly boys, were happy to be wearing their costumes as well. It was very clear that there were many who didn't share my perspective and I was alright with that. There are many reasons for that and I respected all of them for honoring what was best for them.   I only share all of this experience with you because it was one of the first times I questioned whether kindness is always kind.

I think being kind can exist without true acceptance and understanding.   Can we not still be kind and be dehumanizing and othering someone at the same time?   When we assume what is best for another and offer this as kindness, when we infantilize someone by talking to them as a child when they are an adult with a disability, when we make decisions, without consult or knowledge, about what someone in our care wants to eat, watch,  or participate in as an act of kindness, is it really kind?  When we talk about what is best for them to another adult in the room when they too are standing right there, is it kind?  If we invade their space or boundaries with loving gestures but no consent, is it still kind?  I have found myself in this position many times where gestures or actions, gifts, advice, and celebrations have all been offered under the veil of kindness.  I have learned a lot over the years about my own behavior in this way as well because I wanted to you and had to and I am sure I will continue to.  I have made peace with not knowing what is best for another human being. I think it is also fair to say that we are all coming to kindness with our own definitions, biases, and experiences. Often we offer kindness from our rational mind perspective as the right thing to do and then maybe it becomes nice instead of kind.   We can probably all remember a time when we became defensive, righteous, or hurt when our kindnesses were not received as such. I probably couldn't count the number of times I faced my own bruised ego with the words, " I was just being kind".   Perhaps this is because we mistake our kindness as universal. Maybe the group in the gymnasium that day was just a group of neurotypical people projecting what they thought was best for a group of individuals who were not yet old enough or maybe didn't have the skills yet to articulate what would be best for them.  Maybe we need to learn to accept that we don't always know and be ok with that.    I believe that instead of kindness, what we needed to be offering that day and every day is benevolence. With benevolence, we are motivated by genuine care, respect, and concern for humanity and we have compassion for everyone's humanness. Because of this we stop pretending to know what is kind and we ask and we listen and we ask again and we reckon with our own egos and feelings that tell us a different story of people being unappreciative, sensitive, or difficult. Let's think about offering benevolence to every living breathing human and then maybe we can acknowledge that kindness isn't always kind.