Cracked Open

December 11, 2018, was the anniversary of Tom, my beloved husband’s death. Eight years ago, he passed away into another world. Facebook, my main social media site, has a feature that takes you back on your timeline with each passing day. You are able to see what you did and said on December 11 from 2008, 2009, and so on. I was able to trace my life for the weeks and days preceding Tom’s death. I could see all the things that were happening and my comments on them, and I couldn’t help but think over and over again, If I only knew that one week later, three days later, Tom would be dead. It put a very different perspective on life for me. We just never know, do we, what life will bring. It reminded me even more to live each day fully, with zest. This is the main theme of my book, our story, in 10 – A Story of Love, Life, and Loss that I published after Tom’s death. His death and the grief over the subsequent years has taught me much about living a full life.

Grief has softened me. Not at first. First I felt raw and torn, laid open like a jagged wound. But with time that has healed and in the opening of that wound, deep in my gut, I have come to recognize a soft, vulnerable place. And I mean I physically feel it that way. There used to be a hole, a place where the pain of losing Tom and never having him in my life again sat like a dark cavern. It has been replaced. Now there is a fullness filling that empty hole, a soft spot, almost like the yolk inside an egg. It sits in the same place, never forgetting, but always accepting. Tom’s death took away a piece of my soul, but left behind a soft, accepting centre of love and gratitude. It may be delicate, but it’s not weak. In its softness is strength, courage, empathy. It’s pliable, secure, and forgiving.

Reading Mark Nepo’s , The Book of Awakening, I came across this passage. He seems to know about that soft spot within that comes after deep pain. He writes:

“It leads me to say that if you are unhappy or in pain, nothing will remove those surfaces. But acceptance and a strong heart will crack them like a shell, exposing a soft thing waiting to take form. It glows. I think it is the one spirit we all share.”

Grief has cracked me open, and because I was able to look and experience it full in the face, it has left behind a soft jewel in the centre of my soul.

Tradition

“Because of our traditions, we have kept our balance for many, many years.”

~ Teyve – Fiddler on the Roof

This weekend some of my Christmas traditions kicked in, helping to ignite my Christmas spirit.

I attended the Toonie Turkey Supper at St. John’s Anglican Church, Orangeville, where friends from the past gathered to enjoy a delicious turkey dinner with all the trimmings — a night meant to celebrate community and promote fellowship.

That same night, my family went downtown to celebrate the seasonal Tractor Parade of Lights. It was fun to be so close to the roaring tractors and big farm machinery and rigs all lit up with twinkling, colourful lights.

The next morning, we took the grandchildren to the annual Candy Cane Fair at the local hospital. For $2, the grandchildren were escorted away by an elf to choose and wrap a small gift for their mom, dad, grandma, or grandpa. This event is meant to help children get into the spirit of gift-giving during the holiday season and raise some funds for hospital equipment. Santa was there with Mrs. Claus for picture taking and there were craft tables and raffle tickets.

We went home again but only for a short while before we headed downtown again for the annual Santa Claus Parade with its colourful floats, marching bands and community participation.

Traditions are important. They give us a sense of belonging and add a secure rhythm to the seasons. They bring family and community together to enrich our lives and create memories. Through traditions, we reconnect with each other, find balance in our lives, and a little bit of magic.

What are some of your traditions?

Flying Lesson #1

Flying Lesson #1                                                                                Barbara Heagy

Come fly with me.

Oh, I don’t think so.                                                                                                                                                                                      

            I can’t do that.

Yes, you can.

Just step close to the edge

And let go.

No. I’m not made for flying.

            I’m heavy, clumsy, aerodynamically unsound.

            Birds are made for flying,

            Not me.

It’s all in the attitude.

If you feel light and free,

You will be light and free.

Come. Let go.

No. It’s not natural.

            I am not a flier.

            Supernatural powers would

            Have to be involved here.

We are all fliers

If we let ourselves be.

We are all meant to soar

High above the limitations

We set on ourselves.

But I’m scared.

            I would be alone.

            What if I begin to fall?

Trust me.

You are a flier.

You are meant to fly.

It will be as natural

And effortless and easy

As it is for a bird that steps out on a branch

and casts its body into the breeze.

But you have to believe,

And you have to stretch out your wings.

Gather up your courage

And jump.

You will not be alone.

The wind and the air will be your companions.

Well, if I’m meant to fly

            Let me not be

            As loose things

            Tossed about at the whim of the wind.

            Dust and leaves and dandelion seeds

            Are not for me.

            I want to be as sure as

            The goose in its yearly migration

            About its destination.

No,

There are no guarantees.

But I can promise you this;

The world of flight

Will be full

Of wonder and surprises.

You will find freedom

And new strength

As you glide

And soar and swoop

Over unknown worlds.

And you will be

More than you ever dreamed you could be.

You sound so sure of yourself.

I am.

You make it sound so easy.

It is.

Now, are you ready?

Let’s F L Y . . . . . .

Creativity and Spirituality

Back in 2003, I graduated with my Masters in Dance. My thesis was a study in the relationship between creativity and spirituality. For my closing remarks I included a poem I had written comparing the artist and the spiritual seeker.
 
“To be creative, we must be open, receptive, yielding.
To be spiritual, we must be open, receptive, yielding.
The artist asks and waits expectantly for the answer.
The spiritual seeker asks and waits expectantly for the answer.The artist trusts and steps forward in faith into the unknown.
The spiritual seeker trusts and steps forward in faith into the unknown.

The artist listens, observes, tastes life, then responds in action based on contemplation.
The spiritual seeker listens, observes, tastes life, then responds in action based on contemplation.

When we are creative, we give back the gift we have been given.
When we are spiritual, we give back the gift we have been given.

The artist in in awe of the world. For the artist, the world is truly a wonderful (WONDER FULL) source of learning and inspiration.
The spiritual seeker is in awe of the world. For the spiritual one, the world is truly a wonderful (WONDER FULL) source of learning and inspiration.”

(written as Barbara McQuarrie, Thesis title ” Dancing to the Still Point: The Expression of Creativity and Spirituality Through Movement and Dance in a Christian Retreat Setting”)

Writing for Healing – A Response Poem to Rumi

Back in June, I attended a writing workshop with Kat McNichol called “Writing for Healing” in Eden Mills. As one of the quick writing prompts, I wrote a poem Not Me.  It was written in response to the poet Rumi’s poem Not Here.

When the poem was introduced to us by Kat, I had such a negative internal response that I decided I should just deal with it in a written response. The result, created in five minutes, showed me the level of anger and weariness I had in dealing with the grief of my deceased husband and love of my life.

Kat asked if she could publish the poem in her online newsletter. Check out the poems (Rumi’s original and mine) and other stories by clicking on the link below.
https://www.dreamerswriting.com/stories-poems/barbara-heagy/

And by the way — if you have a chance to take a workshop with Kat McNichol, do it! She’s a fabulous teacher. There is another ‘Writing for Healing’ workshop coming up in October. Check for details at  www.dreamerswriting.com.

A Response Poem to Rumi’s Not Here

Not Me by Barbara Heagy

Oh, Rumi.
I do not want to hear this right now.
Don’t speak to me about bravery and sharp
compassion.
I have had howling hurt
And it sucks.

I have stood strong and full of courage.
“Turn and face the lions,” I said.
But the lions’ roaring pains my eardrums.
Their carnivorous breath makes me faint.
Their overpowering size tires me
As I pace the cage with them.

Copper and gold are not for me.
I have accumulated a treasure house of
such so-called riches.
Give me sun.
Give me breath.
God, give me pastrami.
Anything but more of your precious metals.

I am not half-hearted.
I am empty-hearted
Facing your sizzling ovens that shape the soul.

Empty-hearted, holding back,
I am now just well-enough and getting by.

Your challenge has depleted me,
Frozen my thoughts into debilitating ideas of
“I can do this.
This will be good for me.”

Well F’ you, Rumi.
I walk away from this challenge.
I’ve given at the office, thank you.

                                        

I Am From

As an introduction to each other at our recent Rhythmwood Soul Journey, Wendy Roman asked us to write a poem about ourselves from a basic form called “I Am From . . . “. All we had to do was fill in the blanks as we reminisced about our past and contemplated all the people and events that had formed who we are today. Here is my poem. What would your poem be?

I Am From by Barbara Heagy

I am from country farms,
From czardas and paprikash.

I am from grandma’s warm lap
like sheltering laughter.

I am from lilacs, fresh mown hay,
and bubbling creeks.

I am from hippies and hash,
From cool northern lakes and jumping fish.

I am from journals and contemplations,
From words and books and songs.

I am from breath and moving bodies.

I am from spiritual journeys danced in prayers,
laced with pain and grace.

I am from daughters to grandsons.

I am from love –
assured and unconditional.

I Have No Words – A Journey of the Soul

This past week I went on a retreat called Rhythmwood Soul Journey, led by Wendy Roman of Rhythmwood Dance Studio. For eight weeks before our retreat where we met in person, we had online assignments using poetry, journal writing, conscious dance and shared online conferences to introduce us to each other and prepare us with some basic movement principles and ideas for contemplation and discussion.

In the studio, Wendy used daily readings, journal writing, conscious dance, meditation, nature experiences and art to take us on a further soul journey of the feminine spirit.

On the last day of our wonderful week, I sat quietly and thought about how I would explain the past week to my friends and family. It was such a deep and meaningful experience that I truly had no words. But I put my pen to paper, and let the words just flow. This poem is what came out.

I HAVE NO WORDS

I have no words.

How do you explain this feeling of wholeness, connectedness, fulfilment to another?

How do you explain a journey of the soul where I, you, us, become equally important and valuable to the woven web?

How do you explain a creation of the spirit that fills and overflows through me, to you, to earth, to sky, to water, to fire and beyond?

How do you speak of the gentle care, the kindness, the deep felt gratitude for who I am, and who I become with you, and you, and you?

How do I explain the fire within, the fire without, the consuming fire that refines and invites you to new beginnings?

How do I explain the magic of dancing with another, where the flow between us becomes liquid energy that uplifts, intertwines, and releases the ‘me’ to become the ‘us’?

How do I explain the wonder of waves rushing to shore, the birds rising through song, the sky on fire, our very souls on fire?

How do I explain the specialness, the uniqueness of another? Through vulnerability and laughter and tears, and strength and weakness, through words and song and dance and art, a new creation was born.

How do I explain all this?

There are no words.

Wendy Roman is a gifted teacher and I would recommend taking a workshop or retreat with her in the future. Check out her website at www.rhythmwood.ca

To My Gr. 1’s – Class of 2010-11

 

To my Gr. 1 student,

Tonight, you my student from my Gr. 1 class of 2010-11 graduate from elementary school. Next September 2018 you head on to high school. I wanted to be there to watch you accept your diploma. I wanted you to know that you and your classmates are a very special class to me. You were with me through the final stages of my husband Tom’s cancer journey and you and your family were in my life when he passed away December 11, 2010. Your kindness and support at that difficult time meant so much to me.

I wrote a book called 10 – A Story of Love, Life, and Loss about my life with my husband and our final days. Did you know that you and your classmates are in my book? Here are some excerpts from the book to show you how much you all meant to me.

I love, love, love my little class this year . . . I have been very open about Tom
and his cancer, and they regularly make cards and letters for both of us, telling
us how much they love us and how they are really hoping Tom feels better.
It’s a regular little Love Fest’. They are so cute!

We made some wonderful memories together and you brightened my days at some of my darkest hours.

My class went to Puck’s Farm, over near Schomberg, last week with the other
Gr. 1 class, and we had a fabulous day! The weather was sunny with a blue sky.
It was cool but not cold, and the kids and adults had a ball. We were rotated
through ten different centres of activity which included pony rides for every kid,
a hay wagon ride led by two big old horses, a tour through the barn to see the
pigs, chickens, sheep, horses, donkeys and geese, a cedar maze  . . . , another maze
made on a hill made of sorghum grass which grows up to 12 feet, and a tour through the apple orchard where we picked and ate to our heart’s content while sitting under the old apple trees which were spray-free. There was a little carnival area with a jumping castle and a tiny Ferris wheel, and we each got to try our hand at milking the very patient and well-behaved cow. It wasn’t as easy as it looked.
The cow was not very pleased with me as I tried and tried to get milk squirting,
(she kept looking over her shoulder at me, but I finally did it). Every kid went home
with a pumpkin and a smile.

In November and December, we made more memories.

My Christmas spirit is starting to kick in. It has to when you teach small children.
We made our first Christmas craft in the classroom, pizza boxes cut into wreaths
decorated with tissue paper puffs and crepe paper ribbons. You can still smell
the cheese and pepperoni on the box, but it is our attempt at reusing cardboard
in a creative and environmental way. Mmmmm, our wreaths smell good! I also
got handed the script for the Christmas play with the music so we have already
started to listen to it and are getting ready for rehearsals which start next week.
We finally finished our last writing project we were doing as a whole school on
the theme of ‘Courage’. The last project was writing a letter to someone we felt
had demonstrated courage. My Grade Ones wrote to soldiers, fire fighters, and
to Terry Fox’s Mom, Dad and family. Some wrote to their own sisters, brothers,
moms, dads, and grandparents. One little boy wrote to a Special Needs kid I
had in my class last year whose life daily hangs on a thread.

So, you see, your love and support as a small child was very important to me. Kindness, at any age, is a gift of love no matter who is offering it or who is receiving it. I hope you remember to be kind to others as you go on to high school and become an adult. Knowledge is important but care for your world whether it be a person, an animal, or nature is more important.

My best wishes for you as you go on to new adventures. Keep learning, keep being curious, keep being open to the world. I believe in you. Most of all, keep believing in yourself. You can do anything you set your heart to.

Warmly,

Mrs. Barbara Heagy
Gr. 1 Teacher, 2010-11

Congratulations on Word Award Nomination at The Word Guild Gala 2018

Well, the Good Grief People authors didn’t win the top prize last night at The Word Guild Word Awards Gala (we missed you, Alan) but we had a wonderful time meeting other authors and writers and hearing snippets of quality literature. We are proud to be declared a finalist in our category. One of our group did win a top award – congratulations to Glynis M. Belec for her win last night for her short script.

It was very special to have the group of us together. We got to know each other so well in the writing of our book and, even though we live in six different cities across Canada, we saw quite a bit of each other. To get us all together in one spot is a rarity and, therefore, I appreciated it all the more.

Just a couple of hours before I left for the gala, my phone rang. It was a woman from a funeral home in the area that had bought six of our books a year ago from me. If we need any more affirmation of the good things our book is doing for others on their grief paths, I got it. She raved about our book and ordered ten more Good Grief People books.

She told me they can’t keep the books on the shelf because people are finding it so helpful. She herself has found it to be so beneficial in understanding her own grief journey. She says it’s the perfect book in that it is not a ‘how-to’ book because those who are grieving already have enough on their plate without worrying whether they’re grieving properly or not. The short stories and poems are perfect for little snippets of comfort and hope given in small doses when needed.

I told her I was just getting ready to attend The Word Guild banquet today and that the book was short-listed for an award across Canada and she said she was not surprised.

It was wonderful to get such positive feedback. It was like getting an award. Thank you my Good Grief People author friends. We did it together.

Copies of Good Grief People can be ordered by messaging Barbara Heagy at barbaraheagy10@gmail.com or through local bookstores and retail outlets (The Bookshelf, Guelph; BookLore, Orangeville; Spa Wellness by Tamara, Guelph) or online at amazon.ca. They can also be ordered from any of the authors or through Angel House Publishing.

A Balancing Act

 

Have you ever watched someone actually creating those wonderful balanced rock structures? You know the ones where they take a small stone and magically, or so it seems, balance another bigger rock on top of it, and then another, and another, until they hold together in one big delicate balance. They amaze me. I’ve tried it myself to no avail. I can’t even get two stones to balance, nevertheless, three, four or more.

This morning, catching up on my morning Facebook, I came across a friend’s posting of one of these incredible rock artists. I learned something watching the video, something I had never noticed before.

I’ve always thought that the structure was built one stone at a time, fully balancing the first one before the second, and then the third was added. But I noticed that the artist didn’t build them one at a time, fully balancing one before he balanced the others. He worked with the group, holding them together with his hands, as he built. If he let go too soon, before the final stone was put in place, the whole structure would fall. If he kept the group together long enough by holding them all with his hands, the final stone was often the one that put enough pressure on them all to hold the whole structure together. Each stone didn’t stand alone.  Each one was necessary and stood on the shoulders of the one above it simultaneously. The stones worked together, at the same time, to find that precarious balance.

That in itself can be a lesson in life. We think we have to move step-by-step, fully balancing one factor in our lives before we move on to the next when, in reality, we need to include all the elements, holding them together long enough until we can put the final factor in place to bring it all together as a balanced whole.

When we feel that we have to fully achieve one thing before we can move on to the next, this separation of the elements can hurt us. It leads to perfectionism which tends to stifle us, sometimes stopping us in our tracks in our intended progress. If we can’t even get one thing fully working in our lives, we feel we are not ready to move on to the next area of expertise and drop it all together. We give up and refuse to take the challenge. We never feel ready or capable or good enough. It can lead to poor self-esteem.

In reality, we often are balancing many components, multi-tasking, learning as we go, pulling the elements together in a jumble of ideas, until the final conclusion hits us full in the face. Or doesn’t. Sometimes we pull it off but the final structure is held in precarious balance, ready to fall at the slightest outside force. But so what? At least by trying to build something, refusing to give up, believing that more than one factor is at work in our lives at a time, we learn from our mistakes, and continue to move forward.

Years ago, I studied modern dance while getting my first undergraduate degree. After four years of study, I left and went travelling. When I got back, I went and visited my former professor of dance. She told me about a local recreation department that was looking for a teacher to lead a creative movement class for children. I told my teacher there was no way I felt ready to teach anybody about dance. What did I know? She assured me I did know enough, so I gathered up my courage and applied for the job. It was the beginning of a career in dance for me, both teaching and performing.

While at the same university, I met a woman in my dance class who was really just starting out in dance. She had been brought up in a very strict religious family, where dancing was not allowed. She couldn’t even skip properly at the first class. That didn’t stop her from teaching her Inter-Varsity social group everything she learned. Day by day, she learned something, and day-by-day, she took what she learned and taught it to others. Her confidence in herself amazed me. She didn’t feel she had to be fully accomplished to offer her skills to others. She was of the Maya Angelou philosophy, “When you learn, teach. When you get, give.”

The world is a busy, multi-factored, jumble of ideas and experiences. Don’t be afraid to pick up many of them and fearlessly start building your life. It’s all a balance. Make yours beautiful.