Grace in Small Things – 34

• A boyfriend who asks, “can I help?” when I have a casserole to bake and then proceeds to shred the cheddar while I mix up the other ingredients.
• Planting five more love notes today on the way home from work.
• Singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat softly to myself all day and the amazing effect it had on my mood. Thank you, Patti.
• Listening to lovely Hawaiian music while on hold for a hospital in Honolulu, which of course made me smile and think of Olivia.
• No back spasms for many days.

Grace in Small Things – 33

• Feeling safe and protected and calm all day because that morning’s lojong reading penetrated. Nothing solid is happening, it is all like a passing memory.
• Rain instead of snow. I love how it smells.
• The pavement glistening with the reflections of the streetlights in the puddles.
• Coming home late after putting in extra hours and still managing to cook up some cauliflower and spinach korma for myself.
• Giddily looking forward to a big adventure this Saturday… I’m driving over to Wayne, Michigan by myself and taking myself up the First United Methodist Church steps with my oblong songbook and a corn casserole.

Evil Pinkos

Today I took a phone call from a pharmacist in South Carolina. While I was searching for the policy number of our client who was standing there in the drug store, I said, “I’ve never heard of a pharmacy that will bill insurance.”

With his syrupy and charming southern lilt he said oh, sure, they do that. He added, “If Mr. Obama has his way, we’ll all have free medical soon.”

I didn’t respond, focused on pulling up the right client on my screen.

“Then we’ll sure be down the toilet,” he added after a second or two.

Before putting him through to the case manager, I managed a quick comment about living in Canada where we’ve had it for a few decades and we do okay.

I don’t guess Canada has swirled down any metaphorical toilet yet. Not that I’m aware of. Maybe we’re all a bunch of commie pinkos bound for hell for ensuring all sick children and elderly and, well, everyone can go to the doctor when they’re sick. Even when they are…gasp…between jobs! Or work two or three part time jobs.

Shocking, eh?

Grace in Small Things – 32

• Planting three love notes in public places.
• When I asked Sheila if I could bring the bell bowl with me to the alternate meeting location next time, she disappeared and reappeared with a little portable chime and said Happy Birthday as she handed it to me. I held it to my heart.
• That Sheila wants to be a Joy Rebel, too.
• Feeling that the night’s dhamma talk was tailored to exactly what I’d been grappling with over the past days. Don’t you love it when that happens?
• After studying the day’s Lojong card and commentary, which says everything is like a dream, nothing solid is really happening–which gave me great comfort and helped me take the stresses of my job less seriously–I dreamed I was holding insurance claims in my hand and they were almost transparent, ghost like.

Grace in Small Things – 31

• Stopping on the way home from work to buy a multi-pack of sticky notes for this week’s Joy Rebel mission.
• Sharing some mindfulness and breathing exercises with S to help with anxiety.
• Asking S if he wanted to join me at the breakfast table to fill the sticky pads with love notes to strangers. We were soon engrossed in the work, magic markers strewn about, both of our moods lifting by the minute.
• Laughing with S while we made silly figures out of the play dough that I picked up the other day, inspired by Tsultrim Allione’s suggestion to sculpt my demons and allies in clay.
• Finding this quote last night: “In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love.”

Dream: Dog Needs Feeding

S invited me to come over and watch the Academy Awards on television. You know I love films and most years I try to see all the nominated films before Oscars night. But the thing is… Sunday is a school work night. I have to get my rest. I don’t want to start the week off sleep deprived, you know?

So I tucked myself in early and awoke wonderfully rested at 5:00, well before alarm time. I had dreamt about a dog that had not eaten in a while. It wasn’t skinny yet… I think it had missed only a couple days’ meals. I went to get it some water and a can of food, but was having trouble finding a store that was open.

I think dreams like this one are a sign of some progress being made. I used to dream repeatedly that I found my small pets frozen in the crisper drawer or starved inside a cage where I had forgotten about them. Or I would find my plants all dried up, not having been watered in months or years. I would awaken from those dreams feeling awful.

Now I seem to be in a phase of dreaming of rescuing my cat or suddenly remembering to feed a dog, but in these dreams the animals and plants relying on me for care have only suffered a brief period of neglect when I find them. I awoke from the dog dream feeling good. Dogs are protectors.

Grace in Small Things – 30

• Lots and lots and lots of reading time. Delicious.
• Having a coworker who always saves me a spot at her lunch table, but then disappears with her book after the meal part, leaving me alone with my reading material. That’s what I call compatibility.
• Receiving a dinner invitation from a girlfriend.
• A new and exciting mission from my Joy Rebel junta leader (and Annie).
• Dreams that nudge me forward, like the muzzle of a dog.

Grace in Small Things – 29

• What he said.
• Hours and hours of time alone, much of it spent reading an old issue of O that was devoted to the subject of spending time alone.
• Spelling out the word JOY in the snow and being caught in the act by a neighbour who called it “positive graffiti.” “Positive, non-destructive graffiti,” I added.
• A good movie recommendation from a friend. Thank you, E. The Reader was wonderful.
• Packaging up a little box of surprises to mail to a friend.

Grace in Small Things – 28

• Cashing in a one-hour massage gift certificate that my sweetheart gave me for Christmas. I love walking around the rest of the day with well-oiled skin, smelling like pine needles.
• Treating myself to lunch at Taloola Cafe. Watching it snow from my stool facing the window while I eat veggie chili and a piece of cornbread. Did you know every Wednesday from 5 to 10 is NUDE FOOD night (raw, vegan and delicious)?
• Looking forward to a sleepover night with S this evening.
• Watching Awake, My Soul with S the other night and feeling my soul do just that…awaken with a yearning to sing on one of the four sides of a hollow square.
• Pondering what to bake or cook for dinner on the grounds.

Grace in Small Things – 27

• Being asked to fill the teacher seat two Wednesdays in March; I will be presenting material from Pema Chodron’s “Getting Unstuck” talks.
• Being asked if I would be willing to give a workshop on how to start a blog (I LOVE TO TEACH!).
• Date night with S tonight. We saw Milk.
• Being reminded that one brave and very persistent person really can change the course of history.
• A vivid dream last night in which I died by falling off the side of a lush, green mountain. I do feel a part of me is in the process of dying, and it feels like a good thing.

Grace in Small Things – 26

Lately I have been finding it almost impossible to drag myself out of bed in the morning any earlier than I absolutely must. This morning I needed to be one hour early to work. For one, I needed to bank the time for an appointment the next morning. Secondly, we just moved from one building to another and I had been asked to get all my stuff unpacked at my new desk before we opened for business, whether I chose to do that Saturday before noon (ha ha, in your dreams) or Tuesday.

In the spirit of summoning allies, I decided to ask Ganesha, remover of obstacles, for help getting out of bed without hitting snooze even once. It worked. At 5:15 I imagined the moist tip of an elephant’s trunk in my ear.  I rubbed my eyes and next saw a vision of a crow in the bedroom announcing CAW CAW that there were sparklies to be had if I would get up.

I had something i was dreading at work today that was giving me huge anxiety fits, but I managed to tap into four or five different tools and techniques I’ve learned recently and did manage to get the anxiety to evaporate entirely.

• Hidden helpers
• Teachers and the tools that really work
• Coming home to an email from a London singer encouraging me to attend any of several upcoming Sacred Harp events in my area
• The sweet reward of having cultivated a simple life… I can go to bed as early as I want when I’m tuckered out
• On the lookout for sidewalk chalk

Grace in Small Things – 25

• A handmade valentine from my sweetie.
• Visiting the mallards, geese and swans at the marina together.
• Watching Sacred Harp conventions on YouTube and trying to sing along with my oblong songbook.
• No school work today; it’s a holiday in Canada called Family Day.
• Seeing my friend N in the laundry room again, learning his name, hearing all about how his wife ended up in long-term care, hugging him when he started to cry and promising to teach him shuffle board if he will start coming to the social events. That made him laugh.

Grace in Small Things – 24

• Knowing that friends are people who will come back again even though all the dishes didn’t turn out so good
• The way this TED talk by Elizabeth Gilbert left me feeling
• The fact that my boyfriend is someone who would be equally moved by such a talk, so much so that he would send me a link to it and say, “you have to watch this”
• The pretty spray of Gerber daisies in every shade of purple / fuchsia / lavender with red carnations that my sweetheart got me for Valentine’s Day; it made a lovely centrepiece, to boot!
• Sharing the miniature box of Laura Secord chocolates with my dinner guests–also a V-Day gift

PS: for those who wanted to see my first adventure zentangling…here’s the card I made for him.

Grace in Small Things – 23

• Thanks to Lynn, discovering a new creative form just in time for Valentine’s Day
• Receiving a Dora the Explorer valentine from a co-worker
• Heading out to gather the ingredients for tomorrow’s meal; my first dinner guests are coming!
• Being invited to supper tonight by Sylvain’s younger sister, who was thoughtful of my meatless and gluten-free habits
• Feeling the love flowing all over the place as I see all the love tokens you all have created for today

Grace Limitless

The grace of today will not fit into five bullet points.

Six days ago I sat in a cafe across from E, a woman who had been reading my blog for a year and a half. Coincidentally, she used to host a women’s ritual group that was attended by Sheila, the current occupant of the teacher seat at my Wednesday meditation group.  Sun was streaming through the windows of the cafe as we ate our soup.

E mentioned that on Friday, she was going to a potluck in someone’s home in Ann Arbor, a support circle for women on the spiritual path. She invited me to come along.

Ann Arbor. I’ve been wanting to go to Ann Arbor since moving to Windsor. Sylvain suggests day trips and weekend trips to places that all sound just lovely, but I keep coming back to “can we go to Ann Arbor?”

When I first moved here and was struggling with finding ways to meet people…people with whom I might have anything in common, I Googled “Sacred Harp” to see if there might be a Shape Note Singing anywhere around here. I found out there is one on the second Sunday of each month in Ann Arbor. I joined the mailing list.

Once a month like clockwork I get the emailed announcement of the upcoming singing. That’s what we call it…a Singing. Every month I tease myself with a little fantasy of venturing out on my own in my little VW one Sunday to find the Singing. But every Sunday the anxiety of striking out on my own just slightly outweighs my yearning to do it. Lurk, lurk, lurk.

So when E invited me on the hour drive to L’s house, I was thrilled and grateful on many levels. Finding out how to get to Ann Arbor would be icing on the cake.

During the drive, I told E about Shape Note Singing. She knows the city well and so asked me where they hold these singings. I could not think of the name of the place.

A small group of beautiful women broke bread together. We gathered after the meal in a circle in the living room and opened our hearts to each other. There is a feeling of homecoming and complete easiness you get when every single person in a room is willing to be authentic, willing to share pain and  joy, silliness and embarrassment, is willing to cry and is ready to give a long, loving hug.

During the meal I heard the name of the place. “That’s it! The Ark. That’s the name I couldn’t think of earlier,” I said.

“What place?”

“I was telling E that there are Shape Note Singings held at this place called the Ark.”

They go. They know. Our host’s husband sings Sacred Harp. She sometimes goes, too.

No.

Yes.

No way.

Yes, way.

Do you know the percentage of people who have even heard of Sacred Harp, much less are periodic attendees of singings? It’s like running into a fellow descendant of the fourth moon of the sixth planet of a star in the next galaxy.

Now the other women were curious. What is it? I tried explaining about the hollow square, the feeling of being in the middle of a pipe organ, how the singers almost shout instead of singing, how it’s completely democratic and anyone can join in even if her voice is frail and scratchy and off key. No matter! It’s not done for performance, it is done for the soul.

And it’s been known to bring grown men to tears. Even though the lyrics are Christian, like hymns or spirituals, you’ll see atheists and non-Christians moved just the same.

I tried explaining about the ancient scales that come out of people when they sing. People don’t sing exactly what is on the page. These ancient Dorian scales just rise up out of the group on their own somehow.

========

You never know.

You never know what the smallest gesture can spawn…like the fluttering of the wings of a butterfly halfway around the world. One moment’s decision to delurk. A gesture.

This is what I am learning (re-learning? only for about the thousandth time)…and in spite of Annie’s blessedly patient illustrations: you only need to worry about the next little yes. Universe can take care of the rest.

And what G taught me tonight? You can spend five years in a depression so dark that it comes down to either suicide or having yourself committed, and Grace can come down on you like a bolt, leaving you in a state of bliss that has not lifted for two solid years.

And what T showed me tonight? That we can talk about social anxiety, baring our vulnerability and admitting to this embarrassing handicap.

And what I’m learning from E? The magic in surrender.

Amen.

Grace in Small Things – 21

• Looking forward all day to being with my sweetie and enjoying southern food together
• Doing some intense demon work last night with Tsultrim Allione’s book
• Having allies popping out of the woodwork all day long today…an elephant who funnels golden love nectar to my demon through her trunk, a momma spider, a queen bee, a white dove named Isis with a gold thread linking her to Black Mary…all of them gathering around to support me, nurture me, reassure me and sometimes bop me on the head
• being exactly in synch with the full moon this month
• asking the spirit of my late step-grandmother to help Steve learn to make fluffy biscuits

Fried Green Tomatoes…in WINDSOR!

As soon as I saw the postcard advertising the opening of Biscuits & Gravy Southern Bistro at 322 Pelissier (next to Terra Cotta), I could not wait to try it out. One thing I’ve missed most about Arkansas since moving to Canada almost ten years ago is THE FOOD. I love black-eyed peas, cooking up a mess o’ greens, grandma’s cornbread recipe, sweet potato anything. I get to eat fried green tomatoes only as often as I remember to ask a neighbour to bring me some big unripe Better Boys from his county property, and I only remember to ask once a year at most.

As soon as we walked through the door, the down and dirty Mississippi delta Blues that greeted us made me feel like dancing. The chrome and red stools along with black and white checked tablecloths make for an authentic diner feeling. The real test would be, of course, the food.

“What are hush puppies?” I was asked more than once today as I passed the post card around, announcing where we would be supping tonight.  Hush puppies are what you use to keep the dog quiet while you fry up whatever you are frying up, which could be most anything in the South. And they are yummy.

We decided to order from the appetizer list: Hush Puppies, Fried Green Tomatoes, Catfish Fingers for the non-vegetarian, Sweet Potato Fries; and from the Sides menu: Collard Greens, Hoppin’ John.

As soon as Cynthia came out and said, “here’s your sweet tea,” I thought for sure I was back in Arkansas. When is the last time I heard the term “sweet tea?” Probably when I visited my mom and we went out the highway to Cotham’s ’cause I was jonesin’ for some cornbread. Yes, it’s true: my drawl does come back when I think about these things.

The fried green tomatoes were dainty and were topped with an applewood smoked cheddar. Wonderful. The Hoppin’ John (black-eyed peas in rice) was comforting and tasty. I am told the catfish was excellent, and the Cajun aioli was so addictive that we dipped just about everything in it.

The collard greens get my seal of approval, although they would prove problematic for a strict vegetarian. I just ate around the pork-looking stuff, which the menu says was smoked turkey.

So, if ya’ll are at all curious about what people eat in Alabama and Georgia, want to know why they call it soul food, or used to live down that way and miss the cooking, make your way over to Biscuits & Gravy soon to encourage this new, independently owned restaurant.

Grace in Small Things – 20

• Finding out there is a labyrinth not far from this town
• Finding out that J from my meditation group would like to go with me to walk it
• A boyfriend who …well, see answer to question 3 of this interview.
• A boyfriend who calls to ask if I left my umbrella at the movies the other night and when I say “I may have but that’s okay, it’s probably not there anymore and it wasn’t expensive,” calls the cinema anyway to check the Lost & Found because…lonely Mr. Umbrella doesn’t want to be there.
• Coming home after meditation group to find in my living room…

I'M HOME!

Grace in Small Things – 19

• Finding fat, sassy Ontario apples at the grocery store
• Steel Belted Radio
• The smell of thawing earth
• Getting to know my neighbours
• Treating ourselves to seeing Slumdog Millionaire on the big screen

Dream: Not Being Heard

I know I’m working too long when I start dreaming of my job. I did stay late yesterday to get caught up. Then last night I dreamed there were a bunch of 40- and 50- somethings gathered in the board room. I was supposed to give a talk on the life cycle of a claim. I didn’t know ahead of time about this talk, so I started outlining the talk in my head with the 5 or 10 minutes I had before my talk was to begin. 

When I started my talk, nobody was listening. There was chatter. So I stopped talking and waited. But the chatter never stopped. Nobody wanted to listen to me. Then the room became full of teenagers instead of adults. The disrespect was even more pronounced then, so I just walked out.

I was storming down the hall and along came one of the company’s owners, a fellow who usually kids around with me (which isn’t all that comfortable for me because I’m not a kidding around type).  I pointed into his face and said, “I am NOT a happy camper.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said to me as he stepped backward to keep ahead of me. He pulled me off to a room and let me tell him all about it. 

“Do I not command respect? Do I need to work on projecting my voice?” I asked him.

He paused for a long moment and then said, “you’re cute,” as if to point out a compensating quality.

I started to laugh or brush of the obvious falsehood but then decided to grin and say, “I know. It’s a curse.”

And I woke up.

In the shower I tried analyzing the dream. It does feel to me as if nobody is really listening to me at work. In past jobs, I was accustomed to being consulted a lot, asked to brainstorm, asked to problem solve.

As for my current job, I admit that I do not have a background or education in this field, but neither does any one of my teammates or supervisor have experience with adjudicating this particular type of claim, as the company moved to this town recently and hired all new staff in a town where there isn’t a pool of people with experience in this field waiting to be hired. So we are all new to this and learning as we go.

What happens quite a bit is that I notice someone misinterpreting the wording in one of the policies we administer. All it takes to see that the wording is being misconstrued is some common sense, an ability to grasp the intention of the rule or clause. Why did the underwriter put that clause in the policy? Can it possibly make sense for it to be interpreted THIS way? No, it can’t.

What I experience is that when I bring the problem very tactfully and helpfully to the attention of my supervisor, she often doesn’t believe me. Sometimes it takes many weeks before I learn that a conversation took place and yes, it’s true what I pointed out, and the rest of both teams will be educated so that clients are not misinformed in the future.

Why do I care? Because people have paid good money for these policies and we should be communicating the coverage accurately.

I wonder how many times in a row I have to be right before I gain some credibility. I learned how to do the non-threat dance a long time ago.  So am I just not being outspoken enough? Not presenting my concerns with confidence behind them? Do I not sound sure of myself? Maybe I don’t. Maybe I am trying too hard not to be threatening and am undermining my own credibility.

Grace in Small Things – 18

• Yesterday, letting a very kind man explain the rules of billiards to me because I did not have the heart to interrupt him or tell him I used to have my own cue stick and fleece-lined carrying bag.
• Getting through a rough work day in spite of upset tummy and a bigger load than I should be expected to plough through in one day. This too shall pass.
• Coming home to a blissfully quiet, clean, uncluttered space. Relishing the quiet, the stillness, the nothing needing to be done.
• The smell of ground cardamom.
• Getting a good idea for the Joy Rebels.