Ottawa Experts Host and Producer

Ah, the unexpected twists of life smile emoticon

A few months ago, I spoke about the web of synchronicities that led me to volunteer at Rogers community TV (http://monydojeiji.blogspot.ca/…/following-my-intuition_17.…).

That web led me to audition to be a host of Ottawa Experts, a live call-in show with a panel of experts discussing a variety of topics.

Today, I am thrilled to announce that I was chosen to be one of the three hosts. I am officially Host and Producer grin emoticon

I am over the moon with joy…and nervous beyond belief! LOL Signs that I am on the right track.

I am currently working out the show details and will announce when I will be on the air.

My deepest thanks to Lynne Whitehead for this amazing opportunity.

And to the other hosts, Barbara Balfour and Ashley Brauweiler, I so look forward to being part of the team that’s offering great television.

Stay tuned for more details, my friends, but for now… YAAAAYYYYY!!!!

And, as always, follow your intuition! You never know what magic is awaiting around the corner.

An Angelic Reflection

“Those who do what they love are in tune with their purpose on earth.”

This was the message that Alberto received yesterday when asking the Universe for guidance. He had randomly chosen a book from the shelf and opened to this page, the full details of which are at the end of this entry.

We had been debriefing from our latest event, and looking at the ways in which we can do things better.

We also admitted that it was, at times, difficult to maintain our positive energy and vision, and to not allow the fears of others to influence who we are.

Because of low attendance figures at the show, we witnessed around us all manner of techniques to get the few customers who were there to make a purchase…and not all of them felt very good. The fear of not making enough money to even cover costs was palpable.

At the same time, several authors and artists were expressing their frustration at having to create crowd-pleasing work to attract customers because those same customers were not buying their unique creations. The fear of not being able to make a living being your authentic self and selling your own unique creations was also there.

It’s funny….the more you think you’ve healed something, the more it reveals itself in subtle manners to really see if you have indeed healed.

Of course, Alberto and I can have illustrations and material that cater to fans of these events. It’s not a question of ability. It’s always come down to one question for us: is what you are doing an expression of who you are?

We know that our work is an expression of who we are, and that our greater purpose – not only at events, but anywhere – is to stand confidently in that knowing. No need to defend. No need to convince. Simply to express.

The doubt appears merely to remind us that we are not standing in that place of knowing.

So, I went around to those artists who shared their frustrations with me, and reminded them of the beauty of their creations, that they are here to express that and honour the sacred gift that only they possess to bring that beauty into the world. And as I spoke those words, I could feel the fog lifting, and a calm knowing settling.

The message from the angels was a powerful confirmation of the path that we choose to continue walking, even when we sometimes stumble and forget.

One step at a time…

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Full text

“Too many of us have been brought up to believe that work is not meant to be enjoyed, let alone loved. Work is meant to give us a paycheck , not excite, energize or fulfill us.

The angels, however, know that the opposite is true.

Not only can we earn a living doing what we love; we owe it to ourselves to pursue that end.

When we find ourselves in jobs we dislike, that frustrate, sadden or otherwise enervate us, our souls are telling us that that we just aren’t in the right place.

When we are doing what we love, by contrast, we feel and radiate joy and enthusiasm, improving not only our own lives but also our environments.

The angels want us to know that our LOVING can be our living, and they will instantly answer our requests for help and guidance in aligning our souls with our sources of income.

Do you believe that you can make a living doing what you love?

If you would like to believe this, make a list of the jobs you have enjoyed and the ones you haven’t. Try to find the distinguishing features within each category. When you have discovered what jobs made you happy and why, fashion the perfect job for yourself, using all the positive elements you’ve listed.

Now, visualize yourself in this job, believe that you will have it, and ask the angels to send you the energy and opportunities you need to create it.

An Angelic Reflection: When I do what I love, I create the kind of environment in which abundance flourishes.”

From the book “Angel Wisdom” by Terry Lynn Taylor and Mary Beth Crain

 

Egypt: a time of transformation and surrender

This photo was taken on January 22, 2001, my first day in Egypt.

I had quit Microsoft three months earlier, and had a one-year open ticket in hand. I had never traveled alone, much less without an itinerary. I had no idea what to do with my life. I only knew that I was determined to trust my intuition and to follow omens and synchronicities, even when they often made no logical sense.

I rented an apartment in the village at the base of the Pyramids (called Nazlet-el-Samaan), and began the journey of opening myself up to the world, rather than living in fear of it. In a place driven by tourism, I quickly learned discernment, and chose the people who I saw cared for my wellbeing, and not merely my dollar value. It was a harsh awakening, and I was hurt by several people I considered friends.

But I learned a valuable lesson: to listen to that small still voice, that uncertain feeling, within that I had all too often ignored.

I stayed in Egypt for over 3 months and traveled to so many places (Luxor, Karnak, Alexandria, Aswan Dam, the Red Sea...) To me, it is a sacred place. There is a hint of the magical and eternal in every step, especially in the desert. I felt very much at ease there. I know I will, one day, return.

It also set the stage for my eventually finding myself on the Camino de Santiago two months later...

Flowing with Life

It's amazing how events unfold when we simply flow with life.


Yesterday, I went to drop off a copy of our Spanish book to Marcelo, a gentleman I met on Sunday at the book launch of our friend Roxana Orue. I had debated going to this even...t because Alberto was leaving for Spain the next day and we had many details to attend to; but I'm glad that I did because I met some truly wonderful people in the Latino community here in Ottawa, Marcelo being one of them.

When he heard the story of our walk, he asked if we would like to come onto his Latino radio show at CHIN Radio Ottawa. I told him we would be delighted, promising to drop off a copy of the book for his review, when I could. Yesterday was the day.

I drove to the station without expectation of seeing him, only to drop off the book. After driving around the block twice and not finding parking, I decided to park in a garage not too far away. I walked into the station, repeating my new mantra "I always arrive at the perfect time; not MY time, but the perfect divine time".

I was buzzed in, and walked up to the counter. Who was there? Marcelo! I'm not sure whose surprise was greater at that moment. He excitedly welcomed me and waved me inside, telling me I must meet the host of the show, Veronica. He introduced me quickly, telling me he must rush to finish the last five minutes of the show, and leaving me with her to explain myself. Veronica is so welcoming and engaging, asking me to take a seat while she says her final goodbyes on the show.

As she is signing off, she tells her listeners to tune in next week because they will be doing an interview with me, and then asks me to present myself, on air! I don't know what I said exactly, but I distinctly remember feeling very light, as if I was floating effortlessly through events that had somehow been orchestrated, and that only needed that I release all necessity to control and simply flow with them.

Had I arrived a few seconds earlier or later, I would not have seen Marcelo and would have simply left the book with the receptionist. Had I become frustrated at not finding street parking where I wanted, I would not have driven to the garage and then calmly walked over. So many small decisions that, had I not chosen to remain present and unattached to any outcome, would have most likely resulted in other outcomes. That, to me, is the work of the inner journey, bringing the lessons of pilgrimage into the everyday.

And the best part? It was Marcelo's birthday yesterday...

Thank you Oprah!

Photograph by Jean Levac, Ottawa Citizen

One of my greatest dreams has always been to meet Oprah, to be in the presence of someone who at once is both touchable and untouchable, and to simply experience that magical elixir of love, wisdom and power that she exudes.

I had tried to get tickets to the Oprah show in Chicago over the years, but never managed to get them and so gave up, contented with the fact that I could see her on TV. So to have her come to Ottawa when I just returned to living here after 25 years away seemed like a huge coincidence not to be missed!

I remember the moment that I heard the news. I was driving home, having just aired another episode of our Conscious Living radio show, and I was reflecting on how much I was enjoying the experience, even though I knew nothing about radio. I was feeling grateful to the Universe for the opportunity to explore something new, to connect with so many people of like heart and mind, and to share in the work of spreading a ray of light, even if it was only for an hour. I turned on the radio and the first news that came on was that Oprah was coming to town. Every hair on my body stood on end, and I have no idea why.

My friends, with all their best of intentions, were giving me ideas of how to get our books to her. And although yes, I dreamed of Oprah loving our books, I also didn't want any of my actions to reek of desperation! 

What I truly felt towards Oprah was gratitude for introducing me to a way of thinking that lifted me beyond the depths into which I had plummeted. Her guests challenged me to live my best life, and I dared to do that, even when I had no clue where that would lead me. She encouraged me to heal the deepest wounds and listen to a soul that I never realized existed. She brought tenderness, grace and some good old-fashioned tough love when I needed it; and I so appreciated that. She held out a hand and showed a way, but never presumed to know the way, pushing me to find MY way and to pick myself up when my choices led me to a path I knew I shouldn't have been walking. 

And THAT was the energy I wanted to bring with me to the event.

I put all those feelings in a thank you letter, and asked Alberto to capture them in an image that he drew on the envelope (above). We agreed that I would bring the books and give them to her, but only if an opportunity presented itself. I would not actively push the books onto her but rather present them, and my life lived, as a testament of how her show changed my life.

And from the moment I decided that I was attending the event as an expression of gratitude, an energy within me shifted and every little detail began to flow. 

I was looking for a heart sticker to decorate the envelope. I knew I had it, but could not find it. Alberto and I pored through every box and eventually gave up, deciding to buy them instead. Putting the boxes back in their place, other boxes fell down and one lid opened to reveal the stickers I was looking for! At that moment, I knew something magical was happening. 

When I stepped out of my car at the parking lot of the event and joined the crowds walking to the stadium, the two men walking alongside me were from the Ottawa Citizen, and would eventually photograph and videotape my interview with the journalist. 

Arriving at the event, I was handed a small card advertising the local "Majic" radio station. When the package containing the books opened and I went looking for tape, the young woman at the ticket counter found me some, and advised me on who to approach to deliver my package. I actually stopped in the washroom to shed some tears because I felt so overwhelmed and shaken by all that was happening.

Now, did Oprah get my books? I have no idea. And, in a way, it doesn't matter. Being at the event was the culmination of a journey that began with feeling gratitude for the bounties of my life and appreciation for that invisible hand of Love that always seemed to be at work, making things happen; and the knowing that so long as I continue to live my best life and tread my path with an open heart, the grandest of my dreams will indeed come true.

On Jerusalem and Rainbows

A few days ago, I watched the Spanish book trailer of Coelho’s latest book called “Manuscript found in Accra”. I had no idea what the book was about, and so was very surprised to learn that the story takes place in Jerusalem, in 1097, on the eve of the Crusades entering a city whose major religions had hitherto been living in peace. While awaiting the imminent invasion, the people gather to ask a wise man to speak about various themes: life, love, fear, death. It reminded me a great deal of Khalil Gibran’s “The Prophet”. They also discuss what makes up the soul of the city, and decide to hide it until the conflict is over and peace is restored to the land.

Jerusalem, and that entire region, had been on my mind lately, of course, because of recent events there. Although in my heart I know that the path to peace is inner, I was having a difficult time holding on to that. I couldn’t find clarity. I couldn’t calm my emotions. Even after watching a spectacular TED presentation on how to stop violence without becoming violent, I couldn’t find centre.

At the same time, for the past week, I had been reading with my daughter (as part of her homework) about Jerusalem and the Crusades. We were specifically reading about the year 1099, when the Crusades captured Jerusalem.

Clearly, these were not mere coincidences. There was something there for me to consider; so I decided to go for a walk to see if I could gain some clarity.

The day was clear, the sun was brilliant and the air brisk; so you can imagine my surprise when I saw the trace of a rainbow around the sun. Now, I love rainbows. They are magnificent creations and, to me, represent the highest symbol of divinity and grace. Whenever I see one, I feel as if the heavens are saying hello, reminding me of their presence not only in my life, but in all life.

I thanked that little rainbow for appearing, and tucked it away as encouragement from the heavens to feel hopeful. I continued on my walk, enjoying the day, and as I looked up once again, I could not believe what I saw. In that clear blue sky was what I can only describe as a smiling rainbow, or the bottom arc of a rainbow. I was beyond incredulous and stopped to look at it for the longest time. Even when I thought I lost it a few times during that walk, whenever I turned a corner or looked through some trees, there it was again, a little fainter, but still fully visible. I took some pictures with my phone, but can’t seem to download them. The picture above comes from the Internet, but is what I saw.

That rainbow was with me for over half an hour. As I walked back home, contemplating its significance, I stopped to pick up a discarded piece of paper along the path and couldn’t contain my amazement. I brought it home, the final traces of that rainbow saying its final goodbye as I got to my front door.

Here’s the paper at my feet:

It was a Rainbow Mine firecracker wrapper, made by the Mystical Distribution company! Clearly the heavens and the rainbows were speaking to me that day, trying to bring me the clarity I sought. And so, as I sat to meditate later that night, these are the words that emerged. I’ve only done minor editing.

There is no outer. There is no other. There is naught but the inner: the rebellion within; the massacre within; the bloodshed within as the forces within you try to unite. The ground on which their reunification must take place is on the land of the Christ, in the realm and kingdom of the Christ light (or Buddha or Krishna light…here, I refer to that universal Divine light that transcends all dogma and religion, whose essence is Love). It is upon this light that all parties, all divisions, must merge into. What you are seeing in the outer planes is the inner revolution; the resistance to the consciousness that is overtaking your soul and the soul of the planet. The soul of Jerusalem is in the hands and hearts of its people living together. That is the soul that is uniting, and that is resisting. All you can – and MUST – do is keep the terrain, the land of the Christ in your heart, pure. Keep it sacred, untouched by these passing currents. Take into your heart the suffering and pain that you feel from all sides, and TRANSMUTE IT. Bring it back to balance, to harmony, like the beautiful music that you have been hearing of late; the music made by Palestinians and Israelis coming together to create harmony. It is happening.

Embrace within your own heart the Palestinian and the Israeli, the aggressor and the victim. Both archetypes are within you, and are playing themselves out for you in this aching drama. Bring them into you; and as vehemently as they struggle, you shine equally as brilliantly. They are closer than ever, even though they seem so far apart. Hold the light steady. Keep the terrain clean. Do not abandon them now. Radiate the love that you are, and allow the anger, the fear, the antimony to dissolve. That is your only role. Keep gazing within. Keep the warrior’s heart clean and strong. Prepare the land for unification; for only in the land of light will darkness naturally, and of its own volition, dissolve.

Blessed be.

Perhaps Coelho is right. The soul of Jerusalem does reside in the heart of each and every one of its inhabitants; in their hopes, in their dreams, in their highest of intentions and tiniest of acts. But it also resides within us too. We each carry a piece of Jerusalem, and it is up to each and every one of us to heal our piece: that part within us that is in conflict, the bully and victim within us, that which is silent within us and that which clamours to be heard…and all those fragments that refuse to bow to the Light, to the Love, that is our essence. Only by healing those shattered pieces within our hearts may we be able to offer that all-important peace to the whole.

And so I thank you, inner conflict, for revealing yourself to me in this way. Without you, without this external drama, I wouldn’t be at this place now, grappling to find wisdom and meaning. Thank you Israelis and Palestinians for taking on this terrible role, so that we may see the conflict and division in our own hearts. I am preparing your land in the meadows and valleys of my heart, where you may finally rest and find strength and wisdom in the glory of the Light that you too are. Thank you, thank you and thank you.

A Heavenly Encounter

A few days ago, one of my aunts called to tell me about an unusual experience that has still left her shaken. She had decided to go on a weekend spiritual retreat at a centre north of her home, a place she had not visited for over 10 years. She opted to stay in a cabin secluded from everyone and participated in a few workshops, keeping mostly to herself. On Sunday, she decided to attend that morning's service.

Only a handful of people were in attendance. At the moment when the priest asks attendees to say "peace be with you" to the person nearest them, my aunt does so with a woman sitting beside her. My aunt introduces herself. The woman does the same.

"Your name sounds Lebanese," says this woman named Lise.

"I am Lebanese," my aunt responds.

"I knew a Lebanese woman a long time ago," Lise continues. "We did a business and secretary course about fifty years ago. Her name was Najet."

"Oh really?" My aunt answers. "What's her last name?"

"Garzouzi."

My aunt said she froze in shock, as did I when she told me the story. That was my mother's maiden name. This woman named Lise had met my mother when my mom had just arrived in Canada, at the age of seventeen, before she got married, and before her life changed as she progressively lost her vision to Behçet's syndrome. She remembered my grandparents, and even more curiously, lives in the same neighbourhood where my aunt and uncle owned a restaurant. It's even possible that she dined there over the years. She had lost contact with my mother as she (Lise) travelled with her work, and so was deeply saddened to hear of her struggles and untimely death.

Lise painted a picture of my mom as a vital, intelligent and deeply spiritual young woman with an easy laugh and keen wit. Someone who wasn't afraid to face life, a woman of great courage and conviction. As someone who grew up caring for an ailing parent, this vision of my mother was a marvelous revelation and a grand gift. It shifted something inside of me that I still can't quite define.

Of course the biggest question in all of this is: what is the meaning of this encounter? My aunt and I went to visit my mom at the cemetary, still asking those same questions: How did Lise remember my mother's full name - fifty years later? It's not exactly a common name. And my aunt deciding to go that very same weekend after so many years of not doing so?  And the woman sitting next to her just happening to know my mother?  This was no mere coincidence. I have no doubt that my mom orchestrated this beautiful reunion... but for what grand purpose?

The winds that day were silent, but the sun shone brilliantly. Perhpas one day, all will come to light.

Lucky

Every so often, especially at this time of year when most people are back to work, I begin to hear, “Oh Mony, you’re so lucky you don’t have to work in an office,” or “you’re so lucky that you stay at home”, or “you’re so lucky that you can do something you like.”

I certainly do feel very thankful for the life that I lead, but has it all been luck? Reflecting on all this, I thought I’d take some time to tell you a little about my life, and let you decide. 

I thought I wanted to be a doctor and studied with that intention, until I realized that I wasn’t passionate about being a doctor—that it was what everyone else wanted me to be—and that I was attracted to the business world, especially to business strategy and technology.  Against the advice of many well-intentioned people in my life, I decided to get an MBA.  I discovered that I loved it, and was eventually hired as a consultant in what was then one of the largest consulting firms in the world. 

For several years, I was happy but working ridiculous hours.  I also felt I was stagnating, working in an environment that moved very slowly and that did not make allowances for creativity or risk-taking.  One day, a colleague mentioned that his brother worked at Microsoft and that they were hiring for many positions.  I immediately gave him my résumé.  I was a huge fan of Microsoft products on the Macintosh (this was before Windows even existed!).  That same week, I received a call from a headhunter for a job opportunity as a seminar presenter.  I had a terrible fear of public speaking, and so thought the only way to overcome the fear was to be in a job that depended on my speaking.  Yes, I know, I’m a trial-by-fire kind of person.   After the interview, I was told that the job was at Microsoft.  I wanted to quit my consulting job right away, but it meant taking a cut in pay and benefits.  It also meant a drop in prestige because no one back then had heard of Microsoft; but I really wanted to overcome my fear of public speaking.  I eventually decided to follow my heart and make that leap.  And I’m so glad that I did because I came to love giving presentations and to be considered one of the company’s top presenters in Canada. 

Little did I know about stock options!  For those who don’t know what they are, they are a company’s way of gaining employee loyalty by giving them shares in the company at discounted prices, essentially making them stakeholders.  During the boom years of the software industry, I felt as if this was my reward for having taken the risk to leave my secure consulting job.

I moved around Microsoft a great deal, taking on different marketing and account management roles.  I learned from every one of those experiences.  But seven years in that frenetic pace also exacted its toll.  Not only was I burning out, but I was also going through a profound change.  My unexpected divorce had pushed me to explore my spirituality as a means of understanding why it had happened.  It was opening me to a perspective about life that I wanted to embrace, but that I couldn’t reconcile with my work life.  By then I was working in the head office in the U.S.  Although I had a plum job, with international travel, and mostly relationship-building responsibilities, I was unhappy.  But how could I walk away from all that money, all that security?  And all the opportunities that an international company offered?  I would be throwing away my career—one that defined me—and would have to start over.  What would I do after I quit?  I had none of those answers, but my heart was tugging at me to leave, even as my fears kept pushing me to stay.  I eventually left. 

A few months later, in 2001, an economic crisis, followed by the 9/11 attacks, would wipe out most stocks.  I had left at the right time. 

I threw on a backpack, and started traveling, mostly around Egypt and the Mediterranean countries, trying to find that next elusive step in my life.  I walked the 800-kilometre Camino to Santiago in northern Spain, and there, received the inspiration to walk the Way of the Soul to Jerusalem for peace.  It was also on this Camino that I would fatefully meet Alberto, the man who would share my path in more ways than I could have possibly imagined. 

And to those who claim that it’s easy to change when you have no other responsibilities or obligations: until early this year we were living an idyllic life in Spain, within walking distance to the beach and everything that we needed.  But we were becoming increasingly dissatisfied with the education our daughter was receiving at her school.  We also felt stifled in our desires to pursue our dreams.  We opened ourselves to change without knowing what form it would take.  We really wanted to live in New York, but could not make it happen, so we let it go.  A chance visit to Canada over Christmas opened a door that we could not have anticipated, allowing us to live here with a home, car and furniture given to us, and a great little school within walking distance.  The opportunity presented itself, waiting for us to have the courage to grab it.  And we’re very glad that we did!      

So am I just lucky? 

I don’t think so.  Every time I have followed my heart—every time I have risked—even when the move didn’t make sense in the beginning, I have been enriched.  I believe there’s a longing in the heart of each and every one of us that nudges us in the direction of our dreams.  We may not know what they are or what they look like, but we do know that they somehow uplift us and bring us joy.  In my case, my desire for change and growth brought about the opportunities; or perhaps more accurately, on a subconscious level, on a soul level, I created the opportunities.  I (with the help of my Higher Self, my angels, and the Universe conspiring to bring me closer to joy) brought the opportunities into my existence.  But only I had the final choice to act on them. 

Some may still call my life the result of luck.  I say it is choice that grabbed the chance and made it real. 

At the Cemetery

This past Saturday, as I was driving around running errands, Sylvana, my 7-year-old daughter in the back seat, calls out that she wants to go visit the tomb of my mother - NOW. 

Many of you know that my Mom died shortly before Sylvana was born.  I’ve spoken to Sylvana often about my mother, her taita in Lebanese, about how she was in person, the things she liked to do, casually adding that she was now a star in the sky.  That explanation always seemed to satisfy her, so I never offered any more.

“Why now?” I asked.

“Because I just saw some tombs and I want to see where she is,” she answered.

I looked out my rearview mirror, and saw the old church she was referring to, and the cemetery alongside it filled with ancient-looking stones.  I had never taken her to a cemetery and so didn’t know she had made that association with death.  “She’s not buried there,” I said.  “Besides, I have so many things to do today.  We’ll do it another day.”

“No, now!” Was the immediate response.  No matter how I tried to reason with her, she wouldn’t budge. “We’ll see,” I finally said, the parent code for no. 

We arrived at the store and as soon we stepped out, Sylvana rushed to the pots of flowers lining one of the entrance walls.  She picked out a small pot with unusual peach-colored baby roses.  “Your mom will like these,” she declared, handing me the pot, and heading towards the entrance.

At this point, I stopped.  One of my Mom’s favourite flowers was baby roses.  Maybe there was something for me there after all.  I also thought it would be a good opportunity to speak about death, to remove the fear surrounding it.  In recent months, Sylvana has been asking a lot about death, where we go when we die, wondering if we will die one day, wailing that she doesn’t want us to die.  My husband and I explained that we believed that the body may die but that our Spirit goes back to the stars, to always shine.  She pressed us, asking why we had to die.  All I could think to say at that moment was that we come here to have fun, to grow, to learn; but then it’s time to go back home, no matter how much fun we’ve had.  Just like vacation.  That seemed to somehow appease her, but I was certain this conversation wasn’t over. 

We returned home because Sylvana wanted to draw something for my Mom.  By the time she was done, we had seven, small black pieces of paper exploding with vibrant colour, mostly drawings of happy faces and hearts, and one mandala (a drawing inside a circle, typically Tibetan) - “because your Mom doesn’t know what they are.” 

We packed our colorful bundle and drove out to the cemetery.  It was a lovely afternoon, one of those bright spring days with a hot sun and refreshing breeze.  I had the windows down and was listening to Sylvana singing with the radio, marveling at her improved English. 

I turned into the cemetery grounds and told her we were here. With the radio off, and the row upon row of tombstones, the mood became decidedly more somber.  “There are a lot of tombstones here, mommy.  Did all these people die?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered.  We drove in silence, weaving through beautifully landscaped gardens and tree canopies.

“Look, mommy,” Sylvana exclaimed. “Angels!”

Every hair on my body stood on end.  “Where?” I asked, trying to hide my sudden trepidation with enthusiasm.

“They’re flying everywhere!” she went on. “Can’t you see them?”

I followed her gaze, and understood.  The rag weeds, the ones with the fluffy head, were floating all around us. In Spain, they represented angels, and whenever you saw them, it meant that angels were nearby.  “I do see them,” I said. “They’re beautiful.”

We followed the angels to my Mom’s tomb.  Sylvana ran her little fingers over the stone, reading aloud the words written there.  I cleared out dried bits of flowers, making space for the new flowers. Sylvana placed them where she wanted, and then proceeded to explain the order in which her drawings should go. I fastened them with some sticky putty, and then we stood back to admire the final product.

“I’m sorry your Mom is gone,” Sylvana said.

“Me too, honey,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, placing my arm around her shoulders.

“I know her Spirit is not here,” she went on, amazing me, unnerving me, with her clarity. “But do you think she’ll like what we brought her?”

“Oh, I think she will love them,” I said, “and that’s she’s smiling at both of us right now and sending us all her love.”

Sylvana smiled, then started skipping around the nearby fields. She picked some wildflowers and placed them on the tomb, humming a little tune to herself.  She walked around the other tombs, admiring the drawings or some aspect that fascinated her.  I followed her around, feeling such a sense of peace and calm, as if the angels themselves, or at least one in particular, were surrounding us in their embrace.

 I’m sure our conversations about death are far from over, but for now, at least some of the fear is gone, and there is room for an expanded, more beautiful, vision of death to enter.    

Welcome!

In the early hours of a Tuesday morning in mid-April 2011, I woke up with a start, a fading image of a dream clearly imprinted in my mind.  I was looking at the palm of my left hand.  Tattooed on it was a six-sided star inside of which sat a Buddha in lotus position, naked from the waist up, eyes closed, a faint smile crossing his lips.  Around the star are inscribed the words: “LEAVE THE MOUNTAIN NOW”.

For days, the words and image haunted me.  They were clearly a message, but what were they telling me?  I meditated upon them, and came to understand that more than a directive, this was an invitation to take a step that perhaps I have been reluctant to take.  

I am, by nature, a private person although to others I appear gregarious and extroverted. I tend to reserve my opinions, not wanting to offend; or perhaps more truthfully, not daring to stand out and express what I truly believe. 

On the mountain, I’m safe.  No one can judge my ideas.  I have journals filled with reflections on the goings-on of my everyday life, insights into how to resolve difficult situations and what their higher meaning may be – because ultimately I believe all these experiences do serve a higher purpose, and, for me, that purpose is for the Soul to heal, to use the Universal energy of Love to finally integrate, rather than reject, all those emotional and mental fragments of its Self that no longer serve its growth.  As those fragments are transformed into light, room is created for even more Light, more of what is uniquely Divine in each one of us, to shine through. 

In that sense, we are all on the same journey, a journey towards Mastery of the Self and its dramas, so that the Soul may manifest in all of its brilliance.  

Almost ten years ago, on the heels of 9/11, I embarked on a 5000-kilometre Walk for Peace, following the Way of the Soul to Jerusalem, proclaiming that to change the world, we had to first change ourselves; that to have peace, we had to be peace, and then act in consequence.  That journey didn’t end in Jerusalem. I still find nuances in its myriad lessons. The most uncomfortable part of the journey was, and still is, sharing my spiritual beliefs.  They too have evolved with time and moved into territory I still struggle to speak about outside the confines of my close circle of friends who, not surprisingly, share those views.

But we must all eventually leave the mountain. And if not now, when? I’ll never feel prepared enough, wise enough, confident enough, or even worthy enough. I’m battling (and trying to love!) the same demons that have always walked alongside me.  We each have a unique gift to offer the world, and hiding it serves no one, least of all the Soul.  Mine is to speak simply and with authenticity, so that my words awaken a spark in the heart of the reader, and not merely in the mind.

So here goes.  In this blog, I will share with you my reflections and experiences in the everyday, how I see the world and interpret all that happens in it.  The blog will continue to evolve, as I will, and so I welcome your thoughts and feedback, and will try to incorporate as many of them into my entries as possible. 

It is most fitting, not to mention ironic, that I launch this blog on the heels of the announcement of the death of Osama bin Laden, just as his attacks on 9/11 launched my Walk for Peace.  Clearly this is a most significant event, one whose implications I am still digesting along with the rest of you.  I will be sure to share my reflections soon and hope that you will do the same.  

   

With love and light,

Mony