Where did July go!? I didn’t write at all for that month. I did change my status on facebook a few times but that’s about it. I got really busy, I guess.
I have had a thrilling past few weeks with work in Victoria teaching at the Victoria Motion Picture School and also taking on an individual client for coaching sessions.
I look forward to each day bringing me exciting adventures, brewing with possibilities.
There are some experiences in life, many if we are open, that ignite feelings beyond the capacity of words. Over the weekend, that was the nature of my brief, yet rich time with the Cassandra Project at Simon Fraser University.
”I travelled the world with you,” I said to the group of presenting artists who courageously and generously invited me in to witness their work. A body of work inspired by the human experience of speaking truth in the face of possible peril.
They demand much of themselves in order to research, process and synthesize for the telling of the Cassandra stories, and as a result, they demand much of anyone who witnesses; a type of respect rare for modern audiences. I doubt that it is possible to witness the Cassandra Project without feeling some degree of responsibility for the way the world is today. “I love you and I hate you,” I weeped with my spine tingling, my head sitting heavy on its post, and my heart overflowing with gratitude. I loved that they could reach inside themselves and bring forth such depth and beauty and power, because they helped me to do the same within myself. I went through moments of hating them too, for along with their stories, my own surfaced and I could no longer be passive, deaf, invisible, or silent. To witness the awareness that they so rigourously practice for themselves demanded that I be aware of my responsibilities to myself and humanity. Like when an announcement is made that someone has left their vehicle lights on and you think, “Oh, that’s too bad,” and then they announce the license number and you realize that it’s yours.
The realization of how much of myself and my voice I withold out of fear confronted me and I had run out of excuses. When one exhausts all avoidance strategies and becomes willing to know and be who one has always been, the false beliefs and lies have no choice but to fall away. What is left, I can only describe as stunning magnificence that I didn’t know was possible but had always hoped would be.
I woke up this morning singing the words of Leonard Cohen:
Ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack, a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.
That’s how the light gets in.
