2024

2024 was a crazy year for me. Luckily, not too much change in my physical world, other than getting to spend more time in the country. I managed to hold down a job (thanks to remote working, for which I’m grateful). And my elder’s body is holding together despite the neglect.

There was lots of movement in my mind and spirit, on the other hand. I hope to share some of this going forward. But I won’t promise anything, because I’m finding it really hard right now to make promises I can keep. I always get sideswiped one way or another. And what feels important today becomes irrelevant tomorrow. The world is changing quickly, and so need we.

Let’s just say, I’ve been excavating lots of crud from my brain. The usual tactics of avoidance, bypassing, substances, retail therapy, overthinking, and so on … just weren’t working. I had to face some deep existential truths, and am still working through them. I don’t think I’m alone.

Thanks to a number of coaches in my life, I feel I’ve made progress, even if it’s been excruciatingly slow. Every time I thought I had a huge breakthrough, my brain wiggled back to take another go at things. Overthinking is my superpower!

Anyway, here’s to 2025, which is shaping up to be a roller coaster year. I know we are all going to pick up lots of valuable insights along the way…if we focus on what’s in our hearts and ignore the storms going on around us.

Dance Like Nobody’s Watching

The drummer gave me his drumstick!

I was lucky to go to “Rumours of Fleetwood Mac” recently. It’s a really good cover band and it filled the Princess of Wales theatre. I had a third row seat! I never saw the original band, but felt I was in the presence of Stevie Nicks (aka Jess Harwood). I adore Stevie.

After intermission they asked us to get up and dance. My dance style is C- for keeping rhythm but A+ for enthusiasm. I was really into it and caught the eyes of the band members, even Stevie! 🥰

At the end of the night the drummer singled me out to give me one of his drumsticks. “You in the white shirt. This has to be for you.” I never touched a drumstick before. It’s really cool, lots of different sounds depending on the surface you hit. I will treasure it always. It is on my altar.

The message came through loud and clear. Dance like nobody’s watching. Even though you know that everyone is.

1972

I was almost ten years old on November 7, 1972. I can pinpoint the exact date from Wikipedia, because it was the night Richard Nixon won the US Presidential election in a landslide against George McGovern (520 electoral votes to 17). My uncle was sitting me that night. He had other things on his mind listening to Gordon Lightfoot’s If You Could Read My Mind (“I don’t know where we went wrong / But the feeling’s gone and I just can’t get it back”).

When he finally turned on the television after listening to that song enough, the election results were already sealed. I was incredulous. How could such a man win? That war had to stop, how would we get to the Age of Aquarius now? My uncle shrugged, said he knew this was going to happen anyway because that’s the way of the world. I couldn’t understand how he could be so sure.

I was in grade 5, suddenly the smart kid in the class after a slow start. As happens to kids who start school when they’re only 4. I was aware of politics, I remember asking about the FLQ crisis in 1970, and being told that’s just how people are, fighting all the time. This was somehow different though. The guy who would stop war and expand civil rights was shut down, 520 to 17. My hippie tribe had lost. My childish trust was lost too. This was also the year the teasing started, so I just shut down.

Stars on 54 came out with a disco remake of If You Could Read My Mind in 1998. I was horrified at first that this song with such bleak memories could be made into a disco hit. Then I got used to it and started to dance. It’s easy to dance when you ignore the words and the memories. That’s what dancing is for!

Sacred Humans

I saw Fran Liebowitz speak live to a Toronto audience recently. Fran is New York author, actor, and public speaker who famously does not own a computer or smart phone. When asked her thoughts on a certain global event, she said she wouldn’t comment because she wanted everyone to feel safe and didn’t want to start a riot.

I’m not yet ready to give up my devices, although every day it’s more tempting. But I do plan to adopt Fran’s “Don’t want to start a riot” response for myself when it comes to political issues that provoke strong feelings in me but that I can’t personally change. It’s probably for the best to sidestep arguments about world events I can’t personally fix and channel my energy into something more concrete. Besides, all that anger out there just seems to feed the misguided egos of bully leaders who love doubling down on their opposition with a scornful, “Just watch me!”

Most people dedicate their lives to building, fixing, creating, improving, supporting, and all those other actions that humans are so good at. Quietly creating positive change from the inside out. We are sacred humans when we do this sacred work. Imagine a world where we all got on with doing our work and sideswiped the bully leaders.

Sacred Work

I’m told
I live in Dystopia
There’s no escape
It’s foolish to try to fight
The bad and dreadful things.

In the quiet moments I dream
That humans live together as one.
They honour the world around them.
They learn and love and care and grow.
They steward the land and its creatures.
They create beauty and harmony and ease.
They find magic solutions to vexing problems,
Even if the magic solution is to just help Nature be.

I start counting these Sacred Humans, they’re all around me,
Quietly holding the center, standing in place, tendrils tightly entwined.
I forget the bad and dreadful things. There’s too much sacred work to do.

Wired This Way

Human Design Chart Fragment

Human Design is a mixture of Western and Eastern astrology, Kabbalah, and other things, and is a beautiful tool to help you know how you’re wired. I only discovered it last year, and it’s put me on a fast track to knowing myself and what I need.

Through Human Design, I’ve found out I’m a “generator,” which means I’m meant to hold space and support others. To hold back for the right moment, rather than act impulsively or churn stuff out quickly or win arguments—those things leave me soooo frustrated.

Human Design also tells me I’m a “quadruple split definition.” Only 0.5% of the population is wired this way. I won’t get into the mechanical details of what this is, or we’d quickly get lost. There’s so much on the Internet about Human Design if you want to geek out. There’s not much out there about this particular definition however, so I joined a Facebook group where generous folks helped me figure some things out.

To simplify grossly, a quad split has four different personalities (“channels”), all steering in different directions thinking about things in their own way. Because we have four different perspectives, quads process things slowly. It takes a lot of brainpower to make a decision. I like to think this is why I eat all the time, and why my Mom often calls out to me, “Earth to Stephen!” It’s probably also why I’m a writer by profession, a discipline that lets me mull things over until I can get it just right.

Since quad thought processes are so involved, if we aren’t careful we blurt out random things that make people go “whaaaat??” It may seem like we are out in left field, but we do have to check out the entire ball park before we can make up our minds. To my horror, I find that sometimes people act on my words even though I’m still only at Step 1 in figuring it out. I’m learning to keep my mouth firmly shut until I fully know what I’m talking about.

Because we are always processing, quad splits tend to be self-contained and a bit locked down. For example, reading novels or watching movies is a lot of work for me, because I dwell on every detail, processing it multiple ways. It’s exhausting and keeps me awake at night thinking about it, so I’m very selective in what I read or watch.

I wasn’t sure at first whether to pity myself or be excited by the quad split label. But knowing I was wired this way put in motion some big changes. I no longer force myself to make quick decisions unless they’re easy and obvious. I’ve conditioned myself to slow down and sleep on things. I trust that when the answer finally comes, it’s awesome and awesomely me.

By knowing that I’m uniquely wired to be this way, I honour others more for their own unique wiring. I no longer fear otherness in myself or in other people. I try hard not to envy, judge, or compare. I don’t stress over not doing things that are meant for other people to do.

I’m on a fast track now to knowing who I am and what I need, and that’s a great feeling. With this confidence, I am opening myself up more to the magic of new things and new people. I still have frustrating days, but they are getting fewer. Thanks, Human Design!

 

Note: I’ve switched web host providers because the other one was so painfully slow.  A big callout to my friend Erica H who moved me to hers and rescued me from purgatory. I’ve been able to freshen things up a bit and look forward to posting with ease, not dread. I haven’t changed the copy of earlier blog posts, other than removing those pretentious “The Point Being” conclusions.

Surrender

It’s hard to rise above the conditioning that I will never be good enough, that this is a world of scarcity, that I live in a dystopia. But I’m getting there! Those stories are unfortunately true, in some people’s worlds, but in my own world there is love, creation, beauty, kindness, synchronicities. I try to focus on those things, to have gratitude.

I learn to be kind to myself. To be kind to others. To shut out the static and just breathe. To enjoy my body, my surroundings, my friends. To engage more with those who are flesh and blood, engage less with the ideas out there in the ether that aren’t real. The temptation to get stuck in an artificial mental state can be overwhelming. But that’s part of the world we live in, so I let it go and keep on learning.

I learn, with practice, to let my mind have fun engaging with the ether but not to take it all that seriously. In a vast cosmos where I am but a casing of water and dust on a thin rocky surface floating on magma, all those thoughts, those words, those ideas, those “isms,” those “truths” just can’t matter that much. They are but air: breathed in with urgency today, exhaled and dissipated tomorrow.

There are a few truths I live by. I choose to have love for others, not hate. I aim to do the least harm. I get more out of opening myself up than closing myself shut. I can always find joy and amazement. When I zone into the moment, it’s beautiful.

I surrender what’s not working for me outside of these truths.

Surrender

My anger flares at the latest outrage,
Siren chants: war, death, disease, destruction.
Who to blame? Do I need liposuction?
I toss my device, my unease lingers.
I stare at the wall. Silent. Dissecting.
I breath in the air breathed before by those
I’m told to hate. I breath in deep, connect.
Exhale the stale, inhale the new. Release.
I surrender fear. It keeps me silent.
I surrender rage. I can do nothing.
I surrender pride. It holds me hostage.
I surrender thoughts. Let them float away,
They won’t interfere with my growing heart.
I choose love instead. Love can’t be taken.

Inspiration: Everyone out there forging a new world.

Rewriting

I recently saw Everything, Everywhere, All at Once. I loved this movie about tackling one’s issues through the awesome power of accessing other lifetimes in parallel universes to find the badass skills and tools needed for the current situation. It got me thinking about how rewriting is the key to changing one’s attitudes.

In my view, the movie reflects a few things happening in today’s world: the ADHD everything everywhere all at once of our complicated lives, the many world(view)s ready to ensnarl us, the sheer lunacy of all the moving parts we need to dodge, the desire to find out-of-box solutions for the things that just aren’t working for us anymore.

I geeked out and used the movie as a thought exercise. What might happen if I used this timeline magic to go back and rewrite past events that didn’t work out so well for me? Events where I made mistakes, or where my good intentions played out badly? What could I bring to those events then using the badass skills and tools I have now?

When I revisited my cringeworthy stories, I tried to see the other players’ sides, imagined other interpretations I didn’t think of at the time, recast the narratives to be gentler on others, and on myself. I asked myself what I learned from the experiences, even if the learning was tough. Even if the learning was simply that I never did those stupid things ever again, and never will. The events are in the past, so the memories and the attitudes are all that’s left. I can’t change the attitudes of others, but at least I can rewrite my own attitudes if they are holding me back.

A central theme of the movie is to find love and compassion for others, even if they are misguided and dangerous. The protagonist Evelyn will not harm her crazy daughter, even though she is being pressured to do it to save all the universes. She wants to find the keys to help her daughter change. In the crazy world of everything everywhere all at once, there are always more keys to try.

Evelyn discovers that unconditional love is the only way to defuse her daughter’s craziness, and calm all the universes. My thought experiment reminded me that love is at the heart of rewriting my own stories. Compassion, understanding, surrender, forgiveness—for others, and for myself. It’s only when your heart decides it’s OK that you can change the story and make it OK.

Keywords to explore: recapitulation therapy, ho’oponopono

Mind

The human mind, the brain ego, is a curious thing. It never stops. It is capable of amazing ingenuity to push the world in new directions (Shakespeare, Einstein, Galileo, da Vinci, Mozart). Or it can languish in a dark place of circular logic, negative thoughts, and imaginary dragons—until the human it’s attached to is convinced of defeat and gives up.

Some people are blessed with a Rolls Royce mind that just gets things: processing data and weighing options without emotional attachment to come to the best conclusion, given the circumstances. Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock Holmes is a metaphor for that type of superhuman. Then there’s the rest of us, muddling along, overwhelmed with all that brain static.

Exercises to calm the mind are helpful. I’ve tried them all. Self-help books. Yoga. Meditation. Journaling. Spirituality. Philosophy. Altered states. Sleep (yay sleep!). Talk therapy (it’s fun to pay to drive people crazy, haha!). Any of these can work, with persistence and openness and patience. But you can’t really change deeply until your heart tells you it’s time.

A breakthrough for me came a few years back when a friend told me to personify that ego voice inside me, that organizer that tells me what I should/n’t do, could/n’t do, would/n’t do. Did you know that the English language specializes in these conditional tenses? When I asked a Parisian how to translate “I would do this” to French, he huffed that the French language had no such thing. English, he added, was la langue du diable.

Anyway, I was asked to personify this creature, this inner voice who always brings up conditions and limitations and defeats. I was asked to give it a name. I called it Igor. Yeah, the mad scientist’s assistant, not so original. Then they told me to shoe Igor away. Poor Igor, I thought.

The first chapter of Untethered Soul (Michael A. Singer) does a nice job of helping us understand our inner voice, what Singer calls the inner roommate. If Igor were my roommate, I wouldn’t tolerate his droning on for more than three minutes. But I can’t shoe Igor away, we are too attached.

I’ve even come to appreciate Igor. He can get annoying, but he’s the one who tells me to stop for traffic lights, pay my taxes, get my deadlines done, stay out of trouble. I need him to navigate the complicated human world, to keep me safe, to edit my words and thoughts. So I’ve accepted Igor as my inseparable roommate. I just try to make him relax when I don’t need him. I love you Igor, now go take a nap.

Body

The body

I didn’t really know my body at all until my 30s, when I hired a personal trainer. My body was something I relied on to get me from point A to point B, to house a brain, to enjoy a drink or five. I can’t speak for others, but I wonder if this attitude might be the case for lots of people even today.

The trainer (thanks Martin!) taught me that if I focus on (“isolate”) one muscle group, I could get to know it, help it flourish. I’m blessed with some robust DNA, so expanding those muscles was easy for me, once I stopped protesting about how much it hurt and how I couldn’t possibly do it.

Fast forward decades later. My body is no longer a 25-year-old machine that can take any amount of abuse. I have to watch what I put in it, and move it around to keep those muscles from seizing up. But I’ve come to honour my body and listen to it, because it’s my temple. It’s the thing that lets me function in this world.

Our bodies are incredible machines. The muscles and sinews perfectly align to propel us, perform our will. All those sensing organs work seamlessly for us to engage in the cosmos around us. The DNA at the base of it all replicates, heals, advances, cheers us on with a happy feeling when we accomplish things.

The body’s magic is that it just does this stuff without our even needing to be aware of what it’s doing. Most of us just ignore our body. Put whatever into it, deprive it of sleep, muddle along. For some unfortunate people their body rebels, but for the majority their body just goes on and on without much more protest than the occasional hurt and pain. Until one day it stops.

It’s so hard here not to give glib advice. Get to know your body! Watch what you eat! Get moving! You’re bombarded with this advice I’m sure. Problem is, for humans the mind games sabotage the body. In my view, it starts by working on the mind …

Words [2]

Melting words

It’s three years since my last blog post. There was a pandemic. Things got crazy out there. And words seemed so … difficult. Loaded. Ephemeral. Not suited to purpose. Often disguising bullshit. It didn’t seem worth the effort to try to say something that couldn’t really be expressed adequately with words.

I did write words in angsty cursive, filling many hard-cover journals bought at the art store. Mostly lists of what I should be doing but don’t quite get to. (Declutter my house! Wash my walls! Contact people! Write a blog entry!!) With the occasional attempt at philosophy. And lots of “I want to blog about that one day!”

I went through awkward phases of purposeful ignorance, hiding out, blocking out, cursing out, checking out. But along the way some magic happened. I learned, with effort, to inhale and exhale with no other focus but to the person (or animal or plant or rock) in front of me at that moment. To feel honoured that I’m in a brief moment of time on a beautiful planet. That, yes, I’m insignificant in the universal scheme of things but yet, here I am with so many levels of consciousness and awareness. And with so many other beings going through it with me. I learned gratitude for all this.

These experiences started to feel so intense that I wanted to share them. But when I tried explaining to people in person, their eyes darted away and they changed the subject. I realized that I needed to write down the words and edit them ruthlessly to figure it out. Maybe I can get words to work after all …

So here goes. Blog 2.0.