Saturday, July 10, 2010 Excert from Diamond in Your Pocket by Gangaji

Thursday, July 08, 2010 At the end of our stay in the UK we drove up to Glasgow to see a theatre performance hosted by Roger's daughter, Jess, whom I love and respect greatly. She is a strong, independent and passionate young woman, a beautiful wife to her husband Julian and a fabulous mum to our two grandchildren - I really enjoy her company and enthusiasm for art and her family.

I was excited and also a bit nervous as we waited in the foyer of the Arches Theatre, a magnificent underground building  in the old train station in the centure of Glasgow. There were lots of of beautiful brick arches and tunnels everywhere transformed into cafes, workshop spaces and performance spaces. This was not like your usual stage performance. Jess is one of the founding members of Uninvited Guests

They declare on their website about the company formed in 1998: 'Uninvited Guests make entertaining and provocative performance. Our work represents a contemporary reality, in which memories of movies are as much part of our experience as intimate dialogues with lovers. We work in various contexts and constellations, focusing mainly on performance but also producing installation and digital media. Recent work has blurred the line between theatre and social festivities, with audiences joining us in events that are celebratory and elegiac, nostalgic and critical of these times.'

We were attending the performance, 'Love letters straight from the heart'.

'Let's raise our glasses to long lost loves and current lovers, to mums, to dads and to absent friends ' Uninvited Guests stage an event that is somewhere between a wedding reception, a wake and a radio dedication show. We speak of our own and other's loves - deep, passionate, ambivalent and unrequited - and dedicate songs to them.'

We entered the softly lit room to find a long u-shaped table that almost filled the length of the room. The red tableclothes and red roses suggested we were entering into a reception venue... complete with a glass of champagne! There was about thirty audience members and two performers, Jess and her colleague, Richard.

They welecomed us with an introduction and then sat at either end of the room with  sound equipment ...and the performance/ceremony began.

I was completely mesmerised by the interaction between the two of them, their portrayal of young new love and tired love...of enthusiasm and disinterest...
they shared the dedications that audience members had emailed in before the show, with the sound tracks they had chosen.

The diversity was rich, the depth profound, the sharing unexpected, and the range of comfort was variable. I could tell the young guys opposite me were challenged at times, and yet it was a powerful performance that I enjoyed immensely.

Given my background in celebrancy and having been privileged to read many loveletters over the last fifteen years I felt delighted that here was Jess, bringing out into the world people's stories - their loves, their broken hearts, their disappointments and expectations...  a magnificent performance and I was so proud of her!

Here's to love, and to sharing our stories...

My dedication was to Roger and I chose the song, Thank you for loving me, by Sinead O’Connor.

 

This song was played as part of the performance and then my letter, that I wrote, was read out. It was a powerful public declaration. Others too were touched when their letters were read.

My letter:

In my relationships, my first major one was when I was 17 years old, I have found joy and heartbreak. They have provided me with a rich and challenging learning ground. I have been pushed many times beyond what I thought were my limits, to breaking points that hurt and bared open my very being.

As a young girl I wanted to believe in fairytales – finding the right partner for a lifelong union and the dream, ‘they lived happily ever after’.  My life, naturally, revealed a different tale… three difficult, yet upon reflection, beautiful, intimate relationships.

I cried when I heard Sinead O’Connor sing, ‘Thank you for breaking my heart’. I was outraged and yet, I knew, in truth, its beauty.

In my experience these three key relationships brought me face to face with my own foibles and ineffective ways of relating. They poked and prodded me to discover my inner qualities of courage and strength, to find and speak the truth, to access resources that lay dormant in me… of being dynamic and also still… these have been the fruits of the alchemy of loving.

I have learnt through the struggles the art of non violent communication and compassion. I have faced injustice and fears, my own and others. Each of partners saw me for who I am, in all my colours, and they loved me.

With Roger, my partner now of many years, I have deepened my connection to inner peace and sense of Self. It may have been age and maturity that saw us both move forward into a different way of relating, however I have deep gratitude for this journey we share and raise a glass to the Wendy and Roger dance.

 

Thank you Roger for loving me. Thank you for seeing me and not leaving me. Thank you for silence with me. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for holding me and saying I could be. Thank you for breaking my heart, thank you for tearing me apart. Now I am a strong, strong heart.

Thank you for loving me.

If you have read this far... are you interested in making a dedication and sharing your love letter and dedication with my readers???

 I would love to hear from you. Please email me.
info@wendyhaynes.com

Congratulations to Unvited Guests!

Monday, July 05, 2010 Family rituals can have everlasting and fond memories. These two little girls playing by the edge of the water in the sand nudged treasured memories of the times I spent with my sisters down at the beach.


I grew up in Tasmania, having emigrated out from England when I was eight. Tasmania was a tropical paradise to us pommies down under. Dad used to take us to the beach nearly every day after school, come summer and winter (now this memory is an old one so allow for some exaggeration ...maybe just a tad! Anyway, it seemed like every day and it was often enough to create a fabulous memory.

My three sisters and I would play for hours together building sandcastles, covering each others bodies in sand and sculpting mermaids, we carved out boats in the wet sand.We spent hours in the water splashing each other and jumping in the waves. I can still feel the chill in my bones and the chattering of my teeth,  the faint blue skin and shivering. We would dry ourselves with scratchy towels as the sand was stuck to our clammy bodies, and then with sticky clothes we would bundle into the Holden stationwagon and head for home, and always, we would stop at the corner store and buy an ice cream - a Choc Wedge which were about 15 cents each. I can still see the old milk bar at Bellerive although I am sure it has long been replaced by an upmarket beachfront cafe...

The rituals we give our children, by sharing with them regular joyful and carefree activities, will stay as treasured memories for a long time. I knew looking at these two sisters lost in play, oblivious to the people around them as they built sandcastles and moats, splashed and played for hours in this alpine paradise, would remember this day with great joy. For me recalling the rituals our parents gave us four girls,amongst them... regular trips to the beach, camping holidays, Sunday roasts and the other simple routines and rituals our family life held bought a warmth to my heart.

And the antics of this family made me laugh... how come kids can have so much fun in the water with just a foam mattress? These children played for hours, sometimes raucously, and then would take time to chill out and just relax on it and float about ... before the fun would all begin again. Thank goodness for the playfulness of children.

Monday, June 21, 2010

The couple who we are staying with in Les Plagnes, France are both dynamic and generous in their homes and in their work.

Pascal, grows organic fruit and vegetables commercially to sell to the local school restaurants (who make lunches for all of the children every day), shops and individuals who buy direct from the gardens. He also has chooks and bakes fresh bread in the old traditional ways using a wood fired oven. He has established a large community garden adjoining a public garden display where young people, unemployed people or those in retraining programs come to learn new skills in the garden. He also is employed to work in schools teaching children traditional gardening methods and baking bread. These skills are being lost in the local homes and families as people rely on supermarkets for their food and yet, they were once an important part of the social and family fabric. It certainly delights my spirit to pick fresh vegies straight from the garden and smell the delicious aroma of fresh bread.

I have made bread regularly at home especially when my children were little. It is an art form that is rich with history (having been made for centuries) and is a lovely process that is especially great to share with young children who love the magic of the bread rising and, of course, eating the end results.

On Friday night I had the privilege of helping Pascal with the baking. At 11pm, while everyone else was sleeping, we mixed the starter - a special yeast, flour, salt and water mix which begins the process.



While this gooey mix bubbled and doubled in size we prepared the tins, lined baskets and the 'mixing bowl' which was a large wooden trough with four large carrying handles. When the starter was ready Pascal added the starter, the warm water and the organic flour to the 'bowl'. Then it was our four hands in (after a good scrub of course!) The rhythmic movements slowly blended the ingredients to a soft and pliable dough - giving life to this precious mix - the magic of the bread was just beginning. We worked steadily kneading the dough until the flour was absorbed and then, when it was ready, covered the mix with a large white cloth to allow it 6 hours to do its own work. The dough was alive!

 

Off to bed to get some rest until 5.30am when Pascal got up to light the wood fired oven.

Pulling back the cloth from the large trough revealed a bubbling white thick dough which had doubled in size. 50kg of dough now needs to be kneaded. Once again we get our hands in and pull and stretch the dough making it smooth and aerated. Good fun and great muscle building!



Then comes the measuring of the dough for the loaves and the shaping. Pascal is an old hand at this, gently massaging the ball of dough between his hands to create the shapes of the round loaf... I take a few go's to get the right shape and texture. It is a dance between the two of us as we move about the kitchen and then voila! It is done! Loaves in baskets and tins ready to rise again. Time now to have some breakfast.



Getting the oven temperature just right is vital and watching him move the coals, clean the brick cooking surface inside the wood oven and ensure the oven is the right temperature is enthralling. I was captivated watching the master at work. Next, the quick transference of the loaves into the oven using a long flat wooden spatula to place them inside...and the door is sealed. Our job is done.

45 minutes later our hard work is rewarded with fresh, hot bread. After it cools we package it all up ready for the customers who arrive throughout the day. What an experience! This WWOOFing experience has given us so many gifts already... and my French is improving!

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Roger and I had a quiet day together walking up the mountain behind our house. There is a heartfelt joy that we share this love of walking (up steep terrain) and do so quietly and with great enjoyment. We stop for short breaks to rest and to soak up the quietness and beauty of the forest.  We had a picnic in the little village of Montford overlooking the valley and mountains around us.

This ritual of walking for no reason other than to enjoy and be in nature is great for our souls and our relationship.

A young teenager once said to me that he could not understand why you would walk all that way just to turn around and come back again.(We were trying to entice him to join us on one of these ‘adventures’.) I laughed because really there is no sane reason as to why you would climb 1100 metres up and yes, turn around and come back down again. I just know it makes me feel great… and I love the vista from the top!

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

A dear Dru yoga teacher has been managing cancer for the last few years with great success however more recently she has had to make some really big decisions regarding her treatment. This beautiful, wise and courageous woman is going in for major surgery in July with a question as to whether she will come through the operation.

She has a large network of colleagues, family and friends who surround her and her family (a husband and two beautiful teenage daughters) with love and support. I received an email from one of her friends last week inviting people to an evening of prayer and meditation for our friend (and also others in need) on Sunday 20^th June from 6-8pm (AEST) in Canberra. They asked people to bring a bead so they could create a necklace for her to wear to the hospital and also set up a fund for people to make donations towards her care.

There are no bead shops in the Alps so I pulled out my embroidery threads and created a special forest green bead hand woven and blessed with love and care.

My friend has been the focus of a few gatherings over the years and each time she has felt deeply moved and uplifted during some pretty challenging times. Holding prayer or healing circles where we can come together, light a candle and sit in silence offering prayers and blessings is a powerful gift to those in need.  This simple ritual has been used in many religious and secular communities around the world.

I will sit quietly here in the Alps at the same time as my friends will be in Australia and offer my focus and stillness to my friend and others in need. You may wish to do the same.

Take the phone of the hook, turn off the mobile and just find a place where you can sit comfortably undisturbed. You may wish to place a photograph in front of you of the person in need that you wish to offer blessings to or you can visualize them in your mind.

Then as you sit, relax your whole body while keeping your spine upright. Become aware of your physical body and the space that it occupies, become aware of your breath and allow a stillness to permeate your whole being (let the inevitable thoughts come and go and bring your awareness back to this moment.) Then sense a kindness or gentleness infuse your body, mind and heart. Rest in this feeling for as long as you can hold your attention there. Then you may wish to offer a prayer or a silent blessing to your friend or family member.

I do this short meditation every morning and evening (I use a clock to time 30 minutes) and at the close offer love and kindness to my family and friends and the wider community. This ritual quietens me, uplifts me and holds my dear ones close to my heart.

I received the following prayer from the Buddhist retreat centre that I attended in February. Once you have done the short relaxation above you offer the prayer to yourself, then those that are closest to you, then to someone you may feel some animosity towards or difficulty with, then offer it to someone you may not know directly (ie. The taxi driver, the lady from the corner store, your child’s teacher, people in need etc)

(Name of the person) may you be happy. May you be safe and free from harm. May you know kindness and peace.

You can use the above prayer or create one for your own use. Keep the prayer short and simple so you can remember it easily and use the same one for at least a week if you are doing it every day.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Roger and I will often visit the local church in the small villages we walk through. In the little village of Plateau D’Passy the church was built in the late 40’s using modern architecture and designs. Walking down to the church in the midday sun meant that as we entered the building our eyes saw only the dark inky blackness inside the stone building. There was very little light entering through the heavily coloured stain glass windows. We both found a pew and sat down. I closed my eyes and listened to the depth of silence in the building. The noise of the passing traffic and the busy 'goings on' of daily life outside quietened in this sacred space.

After about fifteen minutes of quiet contemplation I opened my eyes to a wondrous sight. The huge tapestry that lined the bell shaped church chapel at the front was rich with colour and imagery. Cattle with three cow heads coming out of their backs and tails. A radiant sun with images of people lit up by its presence. The artistic design was indeed quite pagan. Yet underneath this piece of work were sculptures of Christ and the crucifix. The coloured light streamed in through the stained glass windows framed by the stone archways and lit up the mosaic floor.

There is a silence in old stone buildings especially sacred places of worship that allows my mind to rest. I know this silence to be everpresent however it is definitely easier to rest in the stillness in quiet places. I soak up the peace and quiet and then leave with a deep gratitude for the presence of this sanctuary in this little village.

Back out into the craziness of the world... this sculpture in the main street of Plateau D'Passy captures it well!

 

Friday, June 04, 2010

I have the great joy of reading a dear friend’s university assignments which I have shared parts of in previous blogs. I offer this excerpt here with Beth’s permission.

“The last time I made baskets, I was privileged to be sitting on the earth by a grass shelter in Arnhem Land on a magnificent escarpment looking eastward to the ocean. I sat for some days listening to the women of that land speak their language, gently inviting us visitors into their world. The quiet and unceasing tenacity for threading grasses, tying knots, sitting in this bliss for endless hours was mesmerising. Connecting to the profound depth of this rhythm & ritual affected me greatly & I wept when it was time to leave.

This weekend I have spent time again making baskets, sitting with the women of Burwarrinyin Women’s Network on my home Gumbaynggirr land at the Yarrawarra Cultural Centre at Corindi Beach. One of the women commented early in the weekend that she felt very comfortable in the circle even though most of us hadn’t met before. We discussed the various ways that we communicate in relation to weaving such as, “yarnin’ up”, “getting tied up in knots”, “I’m going to stitch this plan up”, “we need to tie up some loose ends”, “put a spin on the story”, “she’s really twisted”…on it goes. What a wonderful metaphor weaving is for life, a microcosm of the macrocosm, I thought. At the end of the weekend I pondered why I felt so energised. What was this process I’d been part of, and why did it feel so good? What was being communicated? …

When I looked at a definition of ‘counsellor’ I began to understand what had gone on in our circle of women. Nelson-Jones (1988, p. 4) states, “The helper’s skills include those of forming & understanding relationships, as well as interventions focused on helping clients change specific aspects of their feeling, thinking & action.” Our teacher Dee Murphy embraced these qualities so beautifully, clearly wanting to build meaningful relationship, with receptivity & acceptance of each individual’s journey.” (Beth Wrigley)

There are so many ways in which we can connect to each other, to our community and to those friends we have yet to meet. This story of Beth’s reveals a cultural tradition that enriches those who participate. When we engage with others in ritual it breaks down boundaries and opens our heart to our shared humanity.


Photo by Beth Wrigley

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

While climbing the beginning of the Pike Fells we came across a group of children out on an adventure, Ghyll Scrambling… a freezing sport of donning protective gear and climbing up the freezing ghylls. (small waterfalls and creeks running down the side of the mountains). They were shrieking and laughing and having a ball. From my perspective they all were actively engaged and having a great time.

This activity, despite the frozen toes, chilled bodies and discomfort will remain as a highlight in most of these children’s memories.  While a fun activity for children it is also affirming their ability to do things outside of their normal comfort zone, to find their own courage and strength and to try things they would not normally do.

When my son attended the ‘Pathways to Manhood’ camp many years ago he was given the opportunity to be in situations that he wouldn’t normally have done at home or in his social group (i.e. spending a night out in the forest on his own with few provisions or cover). It is these experiences, while not always comfortable yet given the right support, will have a lasting impact upon young people’s development. Blended with the sharing of universally acceptable values and morals these ‘adventures’ develop the character and resources of young people.

Rona Goold from the ACCN and I were discussing (by email) the importance of rites of passage for young people. She has put together a proposal for a Citizenship Package for young people turning 18. I will let you know when i hear more about it.