A Path, A Road, A Way

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I wanted to be Madonna. It's true, also, I wanted to be Cyndi Lauper, and Janet Jackson. It was hard, not being them, growing up. I was SO into stars, and music, and clearly, dreaming big, my favourite night of the week was Friday so I could watch "Friday Night Videos" and don't get me started on "Intimate & Interactive" on Canada's music TV station "Much Music." I wanted to be a "Mini Pop" and on Saturday mornings my favourite show was "Kids Incorporated." Don't get me started on Musical Youth or Olivia Newton John, either. I had a tickle trunk which I would pore over regularly, so I could find something to make me look the part of who I wanted to be so badly; a musician, a singer, a star.

I was thirteen years old when I sang the first song I ever sang, on stage. It was a piece from the musical "Annie" you may remember called "Tomorrow." I was thrilled with the reaction from the people but still, it would be a few more years until the next live 'on stage' performance. Where I would sing Sinead O'Connor's "Black Boys on Mopeds." I didn't sing again until a few more years, this time the lead in our high school musical "Anything Goes" my name was Reno Sweeney. It was a blast, but I would go onto the University of Ottawa, finish school, and move to Newfoundland before my first solo "Singer Songwriter" gig.

I had big dreams that LUCK would come in and steal me away from my mundane bartending/washroom cleaning/dish scrubbing/serving jobs. But life continued on and things just worked out the way they worked out. There was hope that I would "make it" and it wasn't for years, almost ten years in, that I realized I have made it. Not in the same way that I thought when I was a kid, dreaming about Prince and Annie Lennox, dance moves, costumes, wigs and make-up (which come into play, at times, to be sure, but there is no eighteen wheeler carting my stuff around!)

The most important thing I learned (actually, words of wisdom from Keith Urban, no less!) was that we all have our own path. We forge our own way, and there is value to being an individual, not trying to be someone else.

Keith_Urban_and_I

It took me years for those words to finally sink in, but thankfully they have and I am very okay with the path that I am on. I wrote this piece today, as a healthy reminder to myself to lessen the self-imposed pressure!  Things get bad sometimes, and I lose a little faith in myself and the path I am on. This is also okay, we all falter and get "lost" at times and we don't feel like we are ever doing enough. Another important thing I found out (through life experience itself) is that life is complex and incredibly intricate. There are HUGE amounts of things that fill up a life, and every single one can have it's own importance... Smell the roses, polish your boots, hug a friend, call your Mother, pay the bills, go for a walk, drink water, cook something healthy, dance to your favourite song, make it happen, work hard, hang your laundry in the sun, soak in a bath, savour chocolate, road-trip, read, paint, Love, laugh, cry, ponder, wander, leave, stay.....

No one is ever any ONE thing.

We are an abundance, and so very lucky to be here, carving out our very own way. 

Travel In Time

Travel has always been something that I have longed to do. When I was seven years old, we (my family; Mum, Dad, brother and I) flew back to Bermuda. My brother and I were both born there, but I returned to Canada when I was around four years old, which leaves a lot to be imagined and much less to be remembered. That flight back to my first home felt like my first time in an airplane; the feel of the smooth seat covers, the glide of the window shades; up, down, up, down, the neatly bundled airline branded silver cutlery, the tidy meal tray, the metal/canvas/bizarre liquid smell of the plane, the discovery of how to balance ear pressure with a simple yawn, and the view! The view out the window, seeing the world from above; the tiny cars, the plots of land, the lakes, the bizarrely beautiful cloud formations....

Fraser_River_and_British_Columbia_from_above

I have always wondered, what is it that makes people want to stay in one place? MONEY problems aside (because there is always a way to get what you want i.e Cigarettes and alcohol come to mind.. where there is a will, there is a way!) I am guessing the main reason people tend to 'stay put' is fear. Fear of the new, fear of change and fear of the unknown. You would be surprised at how YOU you still are in other countries. You do learn new things (language, geography) meet new people (keep in mind there are all kinds everywhere; energy stealers, bartenders, constructions workers, writers, dancers, dunces, artists, arses, buskers, bakers, jokers, joggers, liars, looters, snobs and stars: just like at home!! You will be introduced to some local culinary deliciousness', you will be in awe of new (and very old) architecture and you'll feel SOMEwhat different in a new country but that is likely due to the THRILL of being somewhere new and far away from home. To be sure, however, you will always be YOU, wherever you may be.

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People who don't tend to travel, romanticize travel. Folks tell me how they long to see the Louvre, or the dreamy Eiffel Tower (neither of which I have seen, yet) I hear about all these fantastic fantasies of wine-tasting in the South of France, or inhaling the salty beach air of the Bahamas (also things I have yet to do.) There are an incredibly and over-whelming amount of destinations out there to discover. You can not know the feeling of walking the length of the Berlin wall in the rain or the enormous orchestra of sound from tree frogs at night in the tropics, or the taste of freshly caught Digby scallops pan-fried in butter, or the feel of the slippery rocks of the Giant's Causeway underfoot, or the immense magic behind the walls of a an eight hundred year old castle, or that satisfaction of seeing an entire train shooting across the fields of the Canadian prairies. You will, most definitely FEEL a great many things when you leave the comfort of your own home, but least of all fear. And, if you are lucky, those romantic notions you dream up might actually be real, somewhere, out there.

Me_and_a_massively_huge_Douglas_Fir_in_Cathedral_Grove

Nothing Then Something

I considered not posting today. It has been a bit of an emotional week and I can't quite put my finger on it, but to be sure there were no exciting EUROVISON moments or GREAT BIG party stories that I had to share, no new recipes, no crazy pertinent, profound, monumental occasions and therefore not too much to share. Kind of a dull (and dark) week so I thought maybe I wouldn't write at all. But then I thought, what about my readers? Maybe they (you,) like me, look forward to something on a Wednesday. I look forward to reading FREE WILL ASTROLOGY Horoscopes on Wednesday's. I read them all, and if I see something that works for a friend, I will share it with them. My husband is NOT into Horoscopes at all, and part of me understands why (he feels that if you read something someone else writes about your fortune, is will sway you into making decisions -you might not make- because of it) but I like it. Some form of guidance that I can either take, or leave.

So what does ours say about we Scorpios for the week??

“Scorpio (October 23-November 21)
Author Rebecca Solnit offers some tough advice that I think you could use. “Pain serves a purpose,” she says. “Without it you are in danger. What you cannot feel you cannot take care of.” With that in mind, Scorpio, I urge you to take full advantage of the suffering you’re experiencing. Treat it as a gift that will motivate you to transform the situation that’s causing you to hurt. Honor it as a blessing you can use to rise above the mediocre or abusive circumstances you have been tolerating. ”

Wow. There you go. Funny timing for such words, and this is why I look forward to reading these things, as superficial as some might think they are, sometimes they really are spot on. These words remind me of when I was at a Healing Ceremony a few months ago, drinking plant-based medicine with a Shaman, medicine that would make me barf over and over and over again. I was feeling sorry for myself and could not quiet my mind nor my stomach. One of the 'helpers' looked at me in the eyes and asked me the morning after, (after I had shared with her that I must leave and can not participate in another evening of torture) she asked me why I have to eradicate the pain, and suffering but instead welcome it and feel it and accept that it is an okay part to life, to go through it, to feel it, to experience it, why the need to hate it, to disregard it, to repel it? I never questioned it before, always trying to ignore pain and/or sweep it under the rug, as if it has no place in my life. But since she spoke those words to me, I have looked at it differently, for sure. It is true, without darkness how can you know light?

Anyway, now that I think of it, I DID do something different this week. I painted a painting for the second time in my life. The first time, I was living in Ireland working at Renvyle House Hotel, on the shores of West Coast Ireland, when a painter came to teach a painting workshop. There were not enough attendees to the course, so he invited me to go along with them, to an old haunted shipyard, with all the necessary materials for painting these old rusty, history-filled boats. I spent most of my time working on one ships hull and it was looking alright, until he told us we had forty minutes left.. I scrambled, trying to find ways to fill up 3/4 of my canvas in forty minutes. Needless to say, I left the painting in Ireland. This past weekend I spent some time with a friend who decided to pull out her paint supplies, and we sat at her little wooden kitchen table under a skylight beside the River Aare in Bern and took to creating. Here is what I came up with!

A_painting_by_Lindsay_called_GLOBITOS

I guess, when looking back on the week nothing obviously BAD happened, thankfully, and I am also reminded that I did an interview with Sean Kelly from MIX 97 as part of "Weekend Magazine" which you can listen to right now by clicking on this link. I am also updating my TOUR section, for some anticipated Canadian shows!!!! Canada; I am coming home soon.

Dream on Dandelion

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As a child, I used to think the only thing a dandelion was good for was for picking and wishing on. I dreamed a lot on dandelions. Now I know those weeds full of wishes are not at all just for dreaming on. A dandelion is one of the first flowers to pop up in the Spring time, one of the first food for the bees. SAVE THE BEES and let those flowers grow! I always wondered how they shape-shifted from their bright yellow petals into those fluffy wishes. It all seems a bit like magic...perhaps the act of nature being nature is a bit magical in and of itself? Here is a time lapse video to show you HOW this wonderful feat happens! 

There is this super Lovely gravel road that weaves through the forest, where I like to do some thinking. Yesterday I was trying to come up with an idea for today's Blog Post. I got to thinking about who reads my posts, and where they are when they are reading. I thought about my podcasts (which you can listen to here) and tried to picture the various places that people are listening from; kitchens, cars, living rooms, offices, headphones, speakers, stereos, lap tops..... I tried to envision you and my mind went into over-drive, thinking about all that! It was an eye-opening moment for me, thinking about you, out there. Recently, I have been realizing more and more the connection we have to one another. It is a delicate idea, one with many nooks, rivets, streams, routes and roads, similarities and differences, nuances, dreams, ideologies, moods and more....but here we are. Somehow, through these words and/or music, we feel and we imagine, together, but a thousand miles away.

So, I will paint you a picture from yesterdays 'outside moment' in the forest. Spring, 2016 in Switzerland...

The air is fresh. Once in awhile a waft of perfume floats by. I stop to smell the flowers. The ground beneath me crunches and a stone flips into the back of my boot. I walk for a little while longer before the rock wedges itself in a place that I can not ignore. I take off my boot and try to balance myself on the uneven country floor, I free the stone. The sunlight spangles through the tree branches, up at their tops you can hear birdsong serenading each other. The trees sway in the slight wind and blossoms sail down to the ground. I catch one and think of someone I can no longer see in real life. Love in memories. In the distance there is a chorus of bells, low notes sway from the cows and high notes swing from the sheep. A farmer, plowing the field has caught my attention. I peek at him through the trees, he does not know I am there, he is far away and looks about the size of my finger. He slices the long grasses and places them in a way for easy drying, to be fed to his animals, later. As I walk further, I notice much of the grass needs to be hayed for the animals, but not before I get in there and pluck a few of the wild flowers. As I am picking, I am thinking about my child hood and how I would stop on my bike ride home from school to pick some lilacs for my Mother. The scent of lilacs takes me right back to that corner where the dark purple blossoms meets the white and I am thrilled at the thought of my Mama's smile. A car drives by me, as I am waist high in tall grasses and I wonder what they are thinking and if they are thinking about their childhood as they see me holding wild flowers. Perhaps I have inspired them to decorate THEIR kitchen table with these flowers soon to be gone (eaten.) I catch myself thinking too much and start to focus on what I see around me. Something to help me calm the noise inside. I hear the bells again, and I see an apple tree up ahead with three types of blossoms. This apple tree will have three kinds of apples growing from it, and I think of my husband, showing me how to tie (and eventually grow) different breeds of apples together (on the same tree.) The world surprises me more often than not. 

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I am thankful.