On Thinking

Thoughts are not deeds.
They are merely thoughts.
Your thoughts.

Space Is Time

When the path chooses you...
Follow it.

Interesting Vancouver

A plethora of colours greeted us.

My first visit to the Museum of Vancouver. Fitting venue for an Interesting Vancouver event I later muse.

I’ve been to a few TEDx events, many Pecha Kuchas and thought since my migration to the big city, Interesting Vancouver was due to capture my brain cells.

So I sat back to savour.

“Listen to yourself and hear your thoughts,” an appropriate opener I affirm.

Which had me reflecting.

Life is like a bath in essential oils. Knowledge nourishes you when and where you need it.

Providing the mind is open.

If you listen you can hear something. Then twang off goes the light bulb. You don't yet know where it will lead. 

I sit and marvel in the swirl of truncated thoughts growing in my mind.

There was a lot of sensitivity and compassion to each speaker. Life’s lessons. Their life’s lessons. Sharing, giving. Spreading.

“You can't build something that is unbroken,” I heard.
Jokes on cancer. He’s held hands with it. Reminisced with humour. Made me feel the opposite of what seems to be true. The doom and gloom of the diagnosis.
“Find meaning, make a mark and then we leave.”
“Fight the shame.”
“Wisdom comes from pain.”
“Remove fear it is irrational.”
The evaluation of the evening contemplated my mind to circulate the notion of a value compass. Not a mind map.

Putting your passions first. Tumbled on by what you're most compassionate about.
The last speaker’s parting words were, “Everyday do something creative, crafty and of your own.”

This was most certainly an Interesting Vancouver.

Swayed By Voices

So much information. On the Internet. With Twitter, Facebook and now Google+.

I can’t walk by a newspaper without reading a headline. Even if it does have paint on it.

Words mix with voices. 

We hear it on the television. At the movies. In the streets. With music.

Humour me now. Are there voices in our head's too?
Little by little, we absorb. Transfer words to thoughts.

Then through actions. 

Often swayed by voices.

There is No Box!

Always looked at myself as an outside the box thinker. Of course there are other ways to contemplate that mind scenario. SARK put it perfectly. Last night’s Dream Boogie class was so named - There is NO BOX! Now that changes critical thinking. The path of thought, the voyage of the dreams!

The on-line forum led by SARK gave everyone an opportunity to write down the obstacles that are keeping us from living our dreams. We had one minute. Whatever comes to mind. Roll it out. Reel if off the chest.

Fear capitalized. SARK called out inhibitions as being the Dream Stoppers. With a challenge to evaluate and re-think, re-name and re-phrase them into a Dream Starter statement. In changing the tone we bring shards of light and hope to the process.

Yes we can. Yes we can. I know I can. I know I can!

In the journey of life, our patterns of thoughts ignite control over our feelings and emotions. How easy it is to change all of thought by simply re-shaping our ponderings. Instead of saying I don’t have, say I DO have and YES I can!

In closing SARK emphasized it’s OK to hold hands with fear. Not to fight it. But most importantly, don’t try and be someone else. Never compare yourself to someone else, to want to be like someone else. The World needs you to be YOU!

I can agree to that. Can you?

Staggered Thoughts

Meditation exemplifies stillness. Supposed empty brain waves. No musings. Eliminated ramblings. 

Lights, colours – darkness. Peace. Quiet. Relaxation. 

But wait, the subconscious knocks. It does a noise dive. Something about now. An itch? Or what was – did I really go there? Or maybe - what’s next?

I push away. Clearing. The vacant mind returns. Time idles.

Before long twenty minutes dissolves. I release. To carry on.

Throughout the day I dwell.

The past. The future. The present.

Staggered thoughts.

Conditioned Surroundings

“A place for everything and everything in its place!” he used to screech raising his walking stick in the air.

My father was a stickler for organization. If you were to draw a line around the placement of his radio, his back scratcher and his tea cup beside his bed, they were placed precisely in the same spot – day in and day out.

It’s been a while since I’ve lived in a house. A small space is home. Yet conventional tidying up need not apply. If one thing is out of place, the whole space looks a mess.

So when I cram long hours into a project on said computer – the shipshape is literally turned upside down. Dishes stay sticky. Coffee grinds sit splattered. Papers scatter. Yet, does it matter?

Clean space equals clear mind. Cluttered environment displays scattered thoughts.

Dad definitely had one up on me.