• Knowing

    • June 12, 2010 5:42 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Something excellent has happened. I’ve made a decision. (Sound of trumpets, fanfare and general exultant cheering.) Hallelujah.

    The making of this particular decision has been a vastly interesting journey. Far too long a story to post here but now that I’ve made it the relief is great. And the fear is big. “OMG, now I have to do it.”

    To do “it”, in this case, is to both direct and act in Last Stop for Miles, the feature film I have in development. Crazy, possibly. My destiny, most certain.

    It’s been 16 years since I first wrote the play by the same name, 8 years since I took a crack at the first draft of the screenplay, 4 years since my sister and I shot the short film in Whitehorse, 3 years since it had its premiere and a number of subsequent festival screenings, and five months since I was awarded Development Funding from Telefilm Canada, which newly opened wide the doors to production.

    It has always been my vision to direct and act in my work. I don’t know why. I only know it is a part of who I am. We are a strange species, the self-director. There aren’t many of us. And we are criticized and analysed and generally thought to be egomaniacal control freaks. But we just are what we are.

    Oh, I’ve been willing to change, let go and be directed. I’ve been willing to let the vision die completely for the sake of the film. I finally abandoned the idea and listened to all the sage advice (“Don’t do it, you’re insane.”) because it seemed like the right thing; the wisest thing.

    But no. The vision will not die. It has kept returning, ever so gently, prodding around inside my cells. This you must do. And so, I now believe, to direct and act this film is no less than the Arching Rainbow of Destiny. (In the understated words of my filmmaking mentor.)

    The clincher came a couple of weeks ago. I heard from a friend that a woman I’d met with, a potential producing partner, found my lack of conviction with regard to the film “wishy-washy.” I’d told her the story of wanting to act and direct and my subsequent letting go of the idea. Apparently I’d capped the story by saying, “So I guess I’ll just direct it.” She found this off-putting.

    Where was my conviction? Lost in fear. Everyone was warning me against the idea and they must be right. I must be wrong. So I listened. I became willing to let go. “I am amenable, flexible, soft.”

    This is a good affirmation for me. It’s important for me to practice letting go because I do tend toward egomaniacal controlling behaviour. But in retrospect I now see that I had to listen to the warnings, give the vision up, say to good-bye to it. I had to in order for it to come back, quietly, then loudly and clearly through the critical voice of another.

    Because now I know. Now there is no doubt. Now I have conviction.

    Hallelujah.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: What is that expression? If you love something, set it free. If it loves you it will come back? How about, if you can’t make a decision, let it go. The answer will be revealed when you are ready to receive it.

    Day Five

    • June 11, 2010 7:33 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Toronto the Good. Toronto, the city of my youth. I was born and spent my earliest years in the Yukon but Toronto is where I grew up. It was here where I had my innocence ripped away, where I made the transformation from child to adolescent and from adolescent to young woman. This city evokes so many memories for me both fond and ferocious.

    I’m staying with some friends in their rented condo in the Yorkville area and the view from the guest room looks eastward. I can see clumps of buildings and a wide swath of sky but what’s really standing out are the trees. Toronto has enormous trees. There is one in particular that has caught my eye. It’s a couple of blocks away so I can’t tell exactly what kind it is but it is surely hundreds of years old, quietly presiding over all the others around it.

    It’s easy to forget trees are there. We kind of take them for granted. But when I connect to the fact that trees are living, breathing entities it’s rather extraordinary to think that they are standing guard all around us like soldiers on watch, our silent protectors.

    A recent cartoon in the New Yorker depicted 2 trees talking to one another. One of them was saying, “Can you believe human beings, like, breathe in our waste? Gross.”

    We forget that part, too. Our very survival depends on trees. Sure, we remember it because the eco-warriors use it as a way to get us to pay attention and fair enough, we need to. But what about just taking the time to reflect on the amazing fact itself? What we breath out, they breathe in, what they breathe out, we breathe in. How practical and prudent is this Creator!

    I’m in this city for both business and pleasure and I love getting “citified” after long stretches in the isolated North but this weekend I’m going to take the time to notice and acknowledge the trees of Toronto. Their size and stature is so magnificent. And like me, they’ve grown up here.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: Out of sorrow’s lonely vale;/… at last the traveller sees/ Light between the trees! ~ Henry Van Dyke (1852-1933)

    Day Four

    • June 10, 2010 6:39 am

    Dearest Readers,

    One of the greatest things I’ve heard said about being on the Healing Path and leaving our Old BS (belief systems) behind is that “we don’t go back to them as often, we don’t stay in them as long and we get out of them sooner.”

    Learning this was a huge help for me, the recovering perfectionist, because it meant I didn’t ever have to graduate to being fixed. It meant that I would get better (and I have) but I could still screw up.

    I got lost yesterday. One would think that with an iPhone (complete with a Google Map App) and a built in compass in the vehicle that losing one’s way would not be possible but oh, yes. It is and it was.

    Somehow I passed the road I was supposed to take and after narrowly missing the on-ramp to the highway I pulled off and began driving in the (sort-of) right direction. I found a place to pull over and got out the iPhone to find my way once again.

    No service.

    Whaaat? Am I suddenly in Siberia? Does this one particular section of Ottawa not have a cell phone tower? No answer would satisfy. No shirt, no service, kid.

    A gas station up ahead! I could go there and ask for help. At least I’ve learned that much.

    There, a very helpful guy told me where I needed to go. He was having trouble talking because he’d been up since four a.m. (it was now 1:30 p.m.) but he was a real cutie and totally willing to help me. I almost asked him for his number. Kidding. Sort of.

    So I followed his directions (I had actually listened to them — I’ve asked for directions before and then not listened — good mule that I am) and eventually found myself on the street that he mentioned. Uh-oh. New problem: even though I’d listened I still wasn’t completely clear about where to go next.

    This is where the old behaviour came back. I actually started to whine. Whimper, too. Oh, and bang my hands against the steering wheel while swearing profusely. I was now late for the meeting I’d set up. Things were not going my way. Solution? Act like a two-year old.

    I’m glad to say that within that childish moaning was embedded a prayer. Okay, more like begging but “help me” was thrown in amongst the curses. Then I remembered something: Trust. Everything is happening as it should. It’s all okay.

    A woman appeared pushing a stroller. I rolled down the window and stopped the vehicle. I did not introduce my two-year old to hers. I was calm, collected, and kind. A better actress you’ve never seen. But it was right to be polite. And she was sweet as honey, giving me the final directions to the place I was going not 4 minutes away.

    Seven minutes late. Totally no big deal. Fantastic meeting. Why the sh#% fit? Pride. What would the man I was meeting think of me? Yes, that little worry is enough for a big ego to take the wheel, literally.

    So it all worked out, of course. I didn’t need to lose my sh%#. But I did and so be it. Not perfect yet. But I haven’t been two in a while. I didn’t stay two for long. And I managed to turn 38 again PDQ.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: No service? On the contrary. The Human Being is the ultimate Map App.

    Day Three

    • June 9, 2010 8:50 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Ottawa is an interesting city but a difficult one to describe. The term “government town” might be its most apt moniker but what does that really mean? Friendly people in suits everywhere and public works of art on every block? Clean streets? Busloads of tourists? All of the above are true and yet there is something else here that I don’t know how to name. Probably because I don’t yet understand it.

    Yesterday afternoon I spent a few hours at the Canadian War Museum doing research for GITA. The building, a concrete fortress with a rooftop field of wild grasses and poppies, has a fin that arcs skyward like a hand-sweeping salute. The small windows on the outside of the bunker-like walls spell out “Lest we forget” in Morse Code.

    Inside, I wandered through the exhibits, taking in the the sights and sounds of Canada’s war history. In addition to the tanks and helmets, guns and uniforms, there were paintings done by “war artists” around every corner, nestled between the battle accounts and the “Did you know?” facts. Outside of the exhibition areas there were still more paintings hanging on the empty thick-slabs-of-cement walls. On the inside of the “fin” there were great, nude plaster casts of human gods in various states of agony and ecstasy. Stunning.

    War artist. Can you even grasp the meaning of these two words sitting side by side like that? A true oxymoron. It is a boundless meditation for I cannot stop thinking about it.

    According to Wikipedia, “official war artists are normally appointed by governments for information or propaganda purposes to record events on the battlefield.” But why through art? The Canadian Encyclopedia tells us that First World War artists “produced a visual record of war that was second to none.”

    Okay, so a war artist clearly has a function and a purpose. Does the work I’m doing on GITA make me a war artist? I suppose it might. But I don’t quite feel that I live up to the name. Probably because like this city I’ve tried to describe, I don’t yet understand it.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: “Of all our dreams today there is none more important – or so hard to realize – than that of peace in the world. May we never lose our faith in it or our resolve to do everything that can be done to convert it one day into reality.” Lester B. Pearson, Nobel Peace Prize winner, 1957; Canadian Prime Minister 1963-68

    Day Two

    • June 8, 2010 3:55 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Do you remember the scene from Pulp Fiction where Jules, the thug character played by Samuel L. Jackson tells Vincent, the John Travolta character, that he is quitting “the life” ? When Vincent asks Jules what he’s going to do instead, Jules says, “I’m going to walk the earth…. walk from place to place, meet people, get in adventures.”

    Vincent isn’t having any of it and tells Jules he’s going to end up a bum but Jules is determined and full of faith. It’s a great little scene, watch it here (language warning!!) on YouTube.

    For some reason this line has stayed with me all these years (that film came out in 1994 if you can believe it — 16 years ago) and lately I’ve been saying it to people when they ask me why I’m going traveling for so long. Not entirely facetiously I answer, “Basically I’m just going to walk the earth.”

    During a session with my Spiritual Director a few weeks ago I was telling her the story of Jules and explaining that I’d started saying this to people for fun and yet really feeling that it was partly true. Though I have specific business in each place I’m going I also feel called to “walk the earth”. Wonderful SD that she is, she suggested we go deeper into this call.

    We entered into meditation, just breathing and getting quiet, and by doing so I was able to really listen and connect with Inner Wisdom. From this place of Knowing I heard some sage advice.

    “Don’t be afraid to meet people.”

    Sounds simple enough, right? But it’s scarier than you think. How many of us find it difficult to talk to strangers? “People are strange when you’re a stranger. Faces look ugly when you’re alone…” Jim Morrison pretty much nailed it.

    Hearing Guidance from Inner Wisdom, however, kinda means, for me anyway, that I gotta obey. So last night at a restaurant, when I overheard a few guys sitting at an adjacent table talking about filmmaking, I decided to speak up. It seemed like too big of a coincidence. I’m a filmmaker, I walk into some joint and the people sitting behind me are talking about Telefilm Canada and producing movies in this country? Seemed like a “walk the earth” moment to me.

    I waited until they were leaving, passing me by, and jumped in.

    “Are you guys filmmakers?”

    “Ahhhh… yeah,” one of them said, looking rather like a deer caught in the headlights. (When you’re a stranger…)

    “I am, too,” I said. We shared a brief exchange after that. They were friendly enough but the body language was “get out the door, dude.”

    Immediately, I felt like a jerk. Why didn’t I start with a smoother intro? Something more formal and professional? Then I realized I was beating myself up for nothing. They were awkward, I was not. Why take it on? Time for some positive self-coaching.

    “Good for you, Celia! You walked through your fear. It’s not about their reaction, it’s not about making a successful connection in the industry, it’s about cultivating courage while you walk the earth!”

    Right. Better.

    “Do not be afraid to meet people.”

    Gulp. I’m working on it.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: We’re all strangers walking the earth. When it comes time to meet a fellow stranger on the road and the fear comes up I will walk through it knowing Wisdom and Guidance dictate that I do not have to be afraid.

    Day One

    • June 7, 2010 4:04 pm

    Dearest Readers,

    O What a World and All Its Glories Reign.

    As the plane descended over Montreal at 7 a.m. this morning and I looked over the city I once knew so well the landmarks that stood out most prominently were the houses of worship. I could see churches, synagogues and mosques. Every few blocks a building erected to the Magnificence of Being. Corruption may exist in religion but at its heart religion really is (or ought to be) about celebrating the Wonder of It All.

    How apropos, then, that I happen to be reading A Prayer for Owen Meany, by John Irving, which is all about faith and the lack thereof. As I reached the section of the book dedicated to Owen Meany’s funeral and read paragraph after paragraph of praise for the Divine I looked out and saw below the efforts of our desire to connect with the Divine above. Or within. Heck, everywhere!

    O What a World and All Its Glories Reign.

    Arriving at the apartment I used to call home, my glowing, pregnant sister fresh from the shower greeted me with her big, round belly growing a new person and again I was struck by the Power of Life and all its Mysteries.

    After walking around the old neighbourhood and buying fresh Montreal bagels I saw a bird splashing in a puddle, dunking its head, shaking off the excess water and repeating the exercise again and again, insuring that its feathers were suitably clean for the day ahead.

    O What a World and All Its Glories Reign.

    Driving to Ottawa from Montreal where the land between is lush and green and farmer’s fields stretch beyond the highway I saw white, yellow and purple splashes of wildflowers lining the soft shoulders of the road; red-winged blackbirds perched on long grasses waving in the wind; and white puffs of cloud dotting the perfect blue sky.

    O What a World and All Its Glories Reign.

    This is only Day One of the 8-week journey. Such riches! Such wealth, my friends!

    Inspiring Message of the Day: Am I able to stop and notice the extraordinariness of this Life today? Can I see beyond the banality of everyday living to connect to the Experience of Being? I will do my best with this practice for there truly are wonders to behold all around me.

    Service, Please

    • June 5, 2010 11:13 am

    Dearest Readers,

    This morning I had a sudden and last-minute opportunity to volunteer for a wee little jobbie in a business meeting. I did not particularly want to take on the responsibility but no one else was stepping up to do the work.

    Last night I heard a guy talking about helping another person when he feels low. “It gets me out of myself,” he said. I wasn’t feeling particularly low this morning but I did have a head full of Celia. When the opportunity arose I new in an intuitive instant that I could help out. “I can do this,” I thought to myself.

    Hearing the Inner Volunteer is one thing. Stepping up is quite another. How many times do we hear that voice and ignore it? It is only from previous experience that I knew that to take on the jobbie would effectively mean getting out of my self-centered thinking and finding my way to Peace.

    I’ve so blogged about this before but when I was 16 I did an Outward Bound course where I learned the slogan, “To serve, to strive and not to yield.” This was probably the first time that the idea of doing service really hit home.

    Up until that point, most of my life was spent doing self-service. I wanted what I wanted when I wanted it and that was always NOW. Needless to say, I wasn’t a very satisfied individual. It wasn’t until I learned the art of self-less service that I began to experience that wonderful gift of Peace that comes from doing something for nothing.

    At the end of this month I’m going to the Sivananda Bahamas Yoga Retreat to lead Cultivate Your Courage. Although the ashram is providing me with accommodation and meals, I am not taking a fee for the workshop. It is considered Karma Yoga, or selfless service.

    Admittedly, it’s not a completely altruistic endeavour. I’m hoping to build other opportunities for Inspiring Leadership out of this one and hey, I get to live in paradise for a week. But when they asked me to do the workshop as a form of Karma Yoga I agreed. It is my way of giving back, giving thanks, offering the Gift in return.

    So this morning when I had that moment of clarity that told me I could step up to the plate and take on the role that no one else wanted I knew that by doing so I’d not only be expressing my gratitude for all the gifts that are my life but I’d be opening myself up to continuing to receive that priceless gift of serenity. And guess what? I got it.

    Ommmmmm…

    Inspiring Message of the Day: Is there a way for me to give back today? Is there an opportunity to be of service? I will look for it and then step forward into action. I will open myself up to receive the Beauty of Humility that comes when I give without expectation of reward.

    Circle Up

    • June 4, 2010 8:41 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Yesterday was a Full Circle Day. A day when something which once had a beginning is now given an ending and the chapter is closed.

    In January 1997 I moved to Edmonton, AB, after a 15-month stretch in Ireland. The fantasy was to move there and start a theatre company with a “friend” but the reality was that I was addicted to a doomed and destructive relationship. Four months later I was outta there.

    Despite the insanity of my predicament I did make some attempt to get involved in Edmonton’s theatre community. I called a number of theatre companies and artistic directors to set up meetings and introduce myself. Out of all the people I called, only one responded with enthusiasm and actually agreed to meet with me in person. I was ever so grateful at the time.

    Thirteen years later I got to meet this man again. Just yesterday we got together here in Whitehorse for a cuppa tea. He is in town working with Nakai Theatre and we hooked up to chat about our respective theatre projects. We laughed about the fact that we were getting together 13 years later and compared memories of our first meeting. They were similar but different.

    He remembered me coming to a rehearsal of a play he was directing. I remembered coming to see the show but not being in rehearsal. It didn’t matter much but it was interesting for me to hear that I’d actually been somewhere I didn’t recall being. Memory is such a strange thing.

    My memories of Edmonton are a mix of the good, the bad and the ugly. It was a pretty dark time in my life but I was also receiving abundant gifts from the Universe including the realization that if I didn’t stop drinking I was probably going to stop breathing. It was a life-changing trip.

    Meeting with this man yesterday gave me the opportunity to reflect on that time in my life and how far I’ve come both in my personal life and in my work life. There I was, at the beginning of my career, looking for support in an unknown community. Here I am, mid-career, surrounded by love and support in a community I hold very dear to my heart. Total one-eighty.

    Did the progress I’ve made come from hard work? Partly. Did the success I’ve had come from luck? The Chinese couple I worked for at the Good Taste Restaurant in Edmonton might think so. I, however, must give all credit to the Great Mystery, to the Benevolent Life Force Energy that woke me up in that fair city and started me on the Healing Path.

    The dictionary on this computer says that coming full circle means to “return to a past position or situation, especially in a way considered to be inevitable.” I like to think that coming full circle is when a past position or situation returns to us, especially in a way considered to be mystical.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: When I come full circle I will recognize it as a chapter in my life coming to a close; a specific healing that needed to take place has just occurred and I will acknowledge and give thanks for it.

    Welcome the Grey

    • June 3, 2010 8:38 am

    Dearest Readers,

    It’s lashin’ rain out there and no doubt the dry forests are breathing a sigh of relief. We need rain so badly in this region right now. The gorgeous summer weather has meant bone dry land that is ripe for forest fires.

    Upon waking, I opened the curtains to see the wet, gloomy, grey and thought, “How beautiful.” Whaaat?

    This uncommon reaction reminded me of a tourist couple I met last year when I was in Haines Junction, YT, for the Yukon Writers’ Festival. We (my fellow authors and I) encountered them at the Visitor’s Centre and greeted them with the typical “beautiful day” introduction.

    “We’re sick of it,” they said.

    Their response was kinda shocking.  We’d been soaking up the sun and loving it. They’d been on the road for weeks and nothing but sun, sun, and more sun. They’d grown weary of it.

    “We’re dying for some rain,” they said. “We just want to see some clouds and feel that freshness of the rain falling on our skin.”

    I thought they were crazy. Who could believe a person would ever complain about perfect, sunny days?  But this morning, when I heard that rain tap-tapping on the windows and felt the coolness of the wet day, I actually understood where they were coming from.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: Be still sad heart and cease repining;/Behind the clouds the sun is shining,/Thy fate is the common fate of all,/Into each life a little rain must fall,/Some days must be dark and dreary. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

    The Ultimate Agent

    • June 2, 2010 9:02 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Yesterday, as my brain went on a future-trip and my anxiety began to rise due to the fact that none of the issues the mind sought to resolve were immediately solvable I went out on a limb and asked for a miracle.

    The dictionary on this computer has two definitions for the word “miracle” and both are very appealing:

    A miracle is “a surprising and welcome event that is not explicable by natural or scientific laws and is therefore considered to be the work of a divine agency.”

    A miracle is “a highly improbable or extraordinary event, development, or accomplishment that brings very welcome consequences.”

    The reason I asked for a miracle was simple enough. I had no peace. My mind was hard at work to figure out things that it simply has no control over at present. I needed that Divine Agency to take over.

    So I asked for a miracle.

    A short time later the phone rang. It was Beverly R. Down, the President & CEO of the Creativity Coaching Association, of which I am a member. She asked me if I would like to come and do a presentation at their conference in October in Lake George, New York.

    This was the miracle.

    Why? It’s just a phone call. It’s a job offer. It’s not too extraordinary. But it is extraordinary. Because the brain activity that was causing me so much stress was all about my path as an Inspiring Leader and should I really continue to pursue it?

    Earlier in the week I’d sent out a couple of inquiries to speaking agencies and, of course, not hearing back immediately my mind went into big-time negative-thinking mode. The itty-bitty-shitty-committee was now in session.

    When I am being attacked like this by the voices of dissent the only way to get them to shut up is to call the Divine Agency on the direct line and ask for help.

    “Send me a miracle, please.”

    And what happens? A surprising and welcome event occurs with very welcome consequences. A veritable miracle occurs.

    I always say this, folks: I don’t know how prayer works I just know it does.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: When the negative thinking becomes just too much to bear I will ask for a miracle and I will expect extraordinary results. The Divine Agency is always open for business.