tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29216704052266757802024-02-19T08:15:25.599-08:00Right Here, Right NowFinding the magic and deeper meaning in ordinary momentsThelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-46835263569812268632014-01-01T08:30:00.000-08:002014-01-01T08:30:32.187-08:00Finding the Magic<br>Perception is everything. So often we pass the same landmarks as we drive to work, shopping or elsewhere on familiar routes, and pay no attention to what’s around us. We’ve seen it all too many times before. <br><br>
That’s why many of us love to travel. In a different place we naturally focus on our surroundings with fresh eyes. We allow ourselves to be seduced in the moment, enjoying the caress of the breeze on our skin, the roar of the surf in our ears, and the visual stimulation of buildings we never saw before.<br><br>
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On a recent trip to Florida, I wandered the streets of Pass-a-Grille, a residential beach area on the Gulf. I came across these unusual hangings in a yard decorated for Christmas.<br><br>
It was magical!<br><br>
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I also discovered a wooden wishing well that looked like it had emerged from the pages of a fairytale. I had to hold myself back from stepping on private property to toss in a few coins for good luck.<br><br>
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In Gulfport’s waterfront district, the rows of quaint shops immediately drew my attention – their outer walls ranging from deep orange to lime green to yellow.<br><br>How delightful!<br><br>
My challenge now is to view my surroundings back home with the same sense of wonder. To appreciate the uniqueness even in a harsh Canadian winter.<br><br>Today I admire the way the ice glistens on my windowpane, leaving patterns as distinctive as the snowflakes that tumble from the sky.<br><br>There IS beauty everywhere – it’s just a matter of perception.<br><br>
Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-18354749533871638592013-10-24T12:49:00.000-07:002013-10-27T08:48:38.095-07:00Italy... from Splendor to Ruins<p><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinGfAE91KAxq3Q5-iPTLbjaSwWvk1DNRo0abRWKHCerfS_tJTZRqI98Eq7GlxekAKQIXCEumreVZkYZkTao7e6nHHe7geV-6iyALx14zdhgsY5Lrs8PobpmMfYnVeio65KuC-PAtXmnEE/s1600/Cortona+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinGfAE91KAxq3Q5-iPTLbjaSwWvk1DNRo0abRWKHCerfS_tJTZRqI98Eq7GlxekAKQIXCEumreVZkYZkTao7e6nHHe7geV-6iyALx14zdhgsY5Lrs8PobpmMfYnVeio65KuC-PAtXmnEE/s200/Cortona+4.jpg" /></a></div>As I walk down cobble-stoned streets in Tuscany's hill top towns, ancient church bells clang in the clear mountain air. I feel the harmony of a simpler life in medieval times.<p>
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Long before the tourists arrived, donkeys and mules travelled these roads, carrying goods for the community. <br>
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There's an orderliness to the countryside that is very pleasing to the eye - whether it's the neat olive groves or rows of tall, cone-shaped Italian Cypress. <br><br>
I am with a Canadian tour group. We are driving through the Appenines from Tuscany to Umbria, then up the Adriatic coast to Venice before heading west. <br><br>
Beyond the old-world charm of Venice and Florence, I marvel at all the Renaissance art, including Michelangelo's magnificent marble statue of "David." <br><br>
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In Lucca, Florence and Pisa, I admire the baroque or byzantine architecture of the Middle Ages - only to realize that in bygone eras, these cities were vibrant, exciting places to live in, not historical sites. It was a special time on Earth when our greatest artists and inventors gifted us with their work.<br><br>We visit these places to see the unparalleled richness and beauty of the Renaissance.<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrX2znr-EkOxcKPBejZvds-I3ss2ZIu1gpCGbq6uOHF7-XyUrFxbMlC0yLJb8Pf-YJjOP0waJRLCckDaJfa75qnB4-fUIvdw3UUlXOs2la8HWKjxXHRhU1IhJBAC27sXYtKKaq0_jPIS4/s1600/Roman+Forum+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrX2znr-EkOxcKPBejZvds-I3ss2ZIu1gpCGbq6uOHF7-XyUrFxbMlC0yLJb8Pf-YJjOP0waJRLCckDaJfa75qnB4-fUIvdw3UUlXOs2la8HWKjxXHRhU1IhJBAC27sXYtKKaq0_jPIS4/s200/Roman+Forum+5.jpg" /></a></div><br>Our tour ends with Rome, once the seat of the mighty Roman Empire. As we explore the ruins of the Roman Forum (less than 1/3 of the original building structures remain), I am filled with a sense of devastation and loss.
<p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwjWH_rDVEjlhVWkgDspsNtTCWtk6Y3lc38YMIlwUoroXnt-09RfrqDaptR5WvupzXhzsXIRntzRCXlacTPYO6k3OkZiXPgD-FVoC8zilUHNGLT62RuBfb1dLsoaubF1cMB4Qbdneadr0/s1600/Rome+-+inside+Colosseum+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwjWH_rDVEjlhVWkgDspsNtTCWtk6Y3lc38YMIlwUoroXnt-09RfrqDaptR5WvupzXhzsXIRntzRCXlacTPYO6k3OkZiXPgD-FVoC8zilUHNGLT62RuBfb1dLsoaubF1cMB4Qbdneadr0/s200/Rome+-+inside+Colosseum+3.jpg" /></a></div>But when I see the Colosseum, where so many slaves or prisoners of war fought to the death as others watched and clapped, I'm glad the bloody past is over.<br>
<br>Present-day Italy is a land of contrasts - from the peacefulness of the hill tops and their medieval towns to the bustling cities - as well as a mecca of well-preserved art and history.<br><br>What may strike you the most, if you go, is the wonderful food (traditional & preservative-free) and the warmth of a people who greet you with an enthusiastic "buon giorno" every day. <br><br><br><br>
Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-67495512742275815252013-09-19T18:03:00.000-07:002013-09-19T18:03:08.770-07:00Harvest Moon - Daring to Dream...<br>My eyes turn towards the skies lately, focused on the glowing, orange moon. The Harvest Moon arrives around this time every year and each time, I am blown away by its beauty.<br>
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<br>Because it’s round and full, it appears pregnant as well as magical – pregnant with dreams.
<br><br>It reminds me that what we imagine carries much weight. Focused on what we would like to see in our lives, we can feel inspired and hopeful.<br><br>
It’s easy to get discouraged when we don’t have what we want. That’s why we need to bring a piece of it into our lives right now.<br><br>
If you long for a summer garden, you can plant a bunch of bright yellow daisies in a flowerpot. It will make your heart sing, because it’s part of your dream. Maybe your dream is to visit Hawaii but with your finances stretched to the limit and current responsibilities, it seems impossible. Just putting a picture magnet of Maui on your fridge can keep your dream alive. And who knows? An opportunity to travel there may come sooner than you think.<br><br>
When we lose our dreams, we lose our enthusiasm for living. The Harvest Moon comes around once a year to remind us.<br><br>
Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-32912259161505153182013-07-06T09:39:00.000-07:002013-07-06T10:08:36.263-07:00The Bigger Picture - Our Playing Field<br><br>
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I’m stair-climbing to prepare for a Fall trip to Italy, where I’ll visit “hill top towns” in the north (as well as the cities of Venice, Florence and Rome). <br><br>
Mostly I go up and down the bleacher stairs at my local track and field. For anyone who's counting (like ME), I'm currently at 250 steps per day.<br><br>
When I catch my breath at the top of the bleachers, I look out over the playing field at the treetops and endless blue horizon. There is a sense of spaciousness; a glimpse of infinity. <br><br>
What if we could look at the “playing field” of our lives from a higher perspective? What would we see? Our past mistakes or misfortunes may have only been stepping stones to a different path. Where did they lead us?<br><br>
My divorce many years ago led to a life of more freedom, giving me time and energy to coach others, deliver motivational workshops and write stories and articles. Instead of seeing it as a “failed relationship,” I know that my ex and I enjoyed what we had but simply came to the end of our road together.<br><br>
Similarly, I could have perceived my mother’s debilitating illness as a “misfortune,” but it convinced me to quit my corporate job early and take care of her. The strength of our growing connection opened the floodgates of my heart, allowing me to feel great depths of compassion, overwhelming grief and intense joy.<br><br>
I find there are fewer “mistakes” when we listen to the urgings of that small voice within… the voice that sometimes tells us to make a choice that isn’t logical or comfortable.<br><br>
Looking at the larger picture of <u>your</u> life, where did events or your decisions lead you? What did you learn or gain that may not have looked like much from the outside, but SOMEHOW satisfied your soul?<br><br>
Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-34450519373386299232013-04-09T09:57:00.000-07:002013-04-10T08:00:56.106-07:00Candles in the Night<br><br><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPIvo52b6d0_TOYGzf6IoTdoSZ_Auxib43s9nsyDbODzNg6sEmKHDWpzD5PQBw12KoHZmFc67hyphenhyphen-FyJNnnR1DwxAfGHIZ6rb0I4M0ltk0IGgjwzUq6lo_q0r4qKMNFqbHKaHyyrFYRj3w/s1600/candles.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPIvo52b6d0_TOYGzf6IoTdoSZ_Auxib43s9nsyDbODzNg6sEmKHDWpzD5PQBw12KoHZmFc67hyphenhyphen-FyJNnnR1DwxAfGHIZ6rb0I4M0ltk0IGgjwzUq6lo_q0r4qKMNFqbHKaHyyrFYRj3w/s320/candles.jpg" /></a>
<br><br>About 150 Montrealers met downtown last night at Place des Festivals to hold a candlelight vigil for Grand Elder Raymond Robinson, who is on a spiritual fast, refusing both food and water for over five days.<br><br>
He will fast until our Federal Government agrees to meet with Canada’s First Nations to resolve the current impasse. Hundreds of years ago, treaties were signed to protect certain lands and waters for the aboriginal peoples. First Nations are being asked, according to Grand Elder Robinson, “to give up our waters, our lands, our resources and even our inherent aboriginal treaty rights.”<br><br>
Many believe that the reason for this is potential corporate profits, especially for oil companies prepared to lay pipeline on reservation land. <br><br>
Montreal was one of many communities across the country and in other parts of the world to hold a candlelight vigil for Grand Elder Robinson and demonstrate concern over what is at stake for our aboriginal peoples. We drummed, sang Indian songs, and joined hands to dance to the drum’s beat in a circle. We also released our heart-felt prayers for Robinson's safety and well-being and for a positive outcome.<br><br>
Similar injustices are occurring everywhere on this planet. The corruption of those in power is becoming more apparent and people are in revolt. <br><br>
While our demonstrations of support may not bring immediate change, they connect us with our spirit and we begin to dream of a different world. A world of peace and harmony, where human rights and the natural environment are respected.<br><br>
Our “dreaming” of a new world makes all the difference – for everything begins with a dream.<br><br><br>
Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-51642850224423720192013-02-03T14:56:00.000-08:002013-02-03T14:58:58.779-08:00Capturing the Sun
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On a recent trip to Florida, I fell in love with the spectacular sunsets over the Gulf of Mexico. No two were ever alike. Sometimes the sky was completely orange, other times layered with pink, yellow and red.<br><br>I came home with over a dozen photos and enlarged a few so that I could frame them and enjoy these sunsets all year round on my wall. <br><br>
Appreciating beauty is said to put us on the same emotional wavelength as love - and admiring Nature makes it easy for us to stay in harmony and peace. We live on an incredibly beautiful planet.<br><br>
I hope you take a few moments every day to observe your surroundings and find something to admire. This will bring you into the present moment (instead of staying in your thoughts) and raise your happiness quotient. I recommend it! <br><br>
Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-87085244705112401312012-11-13T16:30:00.001-08:002013-07-06T12:20:01.680-07:00Darkness before Dawn
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<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">
I volunteer at a Montreal hospital. Yesterday, in the Orthopedics ward, Diana, a young woman in a leg cast, asked to be wheeled outside for some fresh air. The real reason: wanting a cigarette. On the hospital grounds, another young woman, also in a wheelchair, spoke to her as they shared a smoke. She had jumped from her third floor apartment and ended up with multiple injuries.<br><br>
This is when I discovered how Diana had broken her leg and pelvis. She, too, had tried to end it all by jumping – only from a bridge. <br><br>
Both these patients are receiving psychological counseling. <br><br>
But how many people in this time of job losses, debt, foreclosures and relationship breakups are increasingly overwhelmed? Too many feel they are only one step away from disaster. It’s important to ask for help, whether from others or in the form of a heart-felt prayer. How can it be wrong to ask for support, when we are part of the human family, connected to each other through our hearts?<br><br>
We are heading for what many prophesized as “the end times” in December 2012. I believe this signifies a shift of consciousness and not the end of our world. It’s about our ability to choose love and peace over fear, hatred and war. Most of us now want a saner, more harmonious planet where life is revered and not destroyed.<br><br>
It begins and ends with US – how we choose to feel and act towards one another. And what we focus our attention on. <br><br>
May all of us who want these changes emerge into a glorious new dawn!
Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-33843584941851300382012-05-27T14:41:00.000-07:002013-07-06T10:46:13.047-07:00Seeking Solace<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3rSf_QUlg4iBEaxU5Xzn_YKwS1evbNbCcssKtUG_k7hxZEJpNXxpeR3TT8PQLE3fX-NMUw1wE7geovJ8O491hs2y9CcYwFqf8_CAQTJEte_9SN5WuVT2LkTQh7AbQyAvqTnevh47j64/s1600/seeking+solace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3rSf_QUlg4iBEaxU5Xzn_YKwS1evbNbCcssKtUG_k7hxZEJpNXxpeR3TT8PQLE3fX-NMUw1wE7geovJ8O491hs2y9CcYwFqf8_CAQTJEte_9SN5WuVT2LkTQh7AbQyAvqTnevh47j64/s200/seeking+solace.jpg" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">Mirroring what is going on in most of the world, protests and demonstrations are now an every day occurrence on the streets of Montreal. A large portion of our population is made up of university students. Although the English students have, for the most part, carried on as usual and finished their school year, many classes for francophone students have been boycotted as they protest a tuition hike. Graduates who speak only French are not mobile. No doubt underlying issues like the high unemployment in this province, especially for the young, and the rising cost of living fuel their anger and frustration. They see little hope for their future under the current system.<br><br>
People in general are increasingly stressed out – they work longer hours, have less and less job security and are exhausted from having to do so much just to stay alive.<br><br>
Under these conditions, it’s especially important to take a few minutes each day to seek solace. For some, it’s reading inspiring literature. You could prefer journaling or writing poetry, or doing a nature walk. Or maybe you like working in the garden, feeling the earth between your fingers and the sun on your face. You need to get off that daily treadmill long enough to appreciate the moment and feel alive.<br><br>
Though I no longer have that kind of stress in my life, I enjoy going for walks or cycling along the river. This morning I saw an egret, a tall, graceful bird, along with half a dozen great blue herons, fishing in the St. Lawrence River, all coming from lands further south. Last week, I saw three big turtles basking in the sun after their winter hibernation and a baby mink jumping over the rocks.<br><br>
Sometimes all we have are a few moments to call our own. I urge you all to do something that brings you comfort as well as joy. That something will help you get through the rest of it.Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-22226349352633124282012-03-29T09:30:00.006-07:002013-07-06T10:57:51.210-07:00Snowflakes after Rain (Earth Changes)<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLizFYS43QbR7pam4rMNsff2eZvOVel1eUn01869uEianefbrEw0zFHbQ3qu7eJ7S2K7Nr8E8JDTc3XCwMhtOaJBvAU1CMiwLrMx1CPkVbB-4NaHmKVPRaPCp8WqBZjHoYOVXciuBN1pc/s1600/snow+flake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLizFYS43QbR7pam4rMNsff2eZvOVel1eUn01869uEianefbrEw0zFHbQ3qu7eJ7S2K7Nr8E8JDTc3XCwMhtOaJBvAU1CMiwLrMx1CPkVbB-4NaHmKVPRaPCp8WqBZjHoYOVXciuBN1pc/s200/snow+flake.jpg" /></a></div>
No one can deny that the weather on this planet has become erratic. Today I watch fluffy white flakes tumble from the Montreal sky, a common sight in March. But only last week, residents were out in shorts as temperatures soared to 26 degrees Celsius, at least twenty degrees above normal. Even nature was confused. Crocuses and tulips came out early and migrating birds arrived ahead of schedule, including hundreds of Canada geese honking their way over the St. Lawrence River.<br /><br />The record-breaking temperatures were more than welcome here after a long winter. However, a recent series of strong solar flares took people unawares, producing reactions from digestion problems to stressed nerves. Almost everyone senses a change in energy these days. I understand that the base frequency of the Earth is also rising. (For decades, the overall Schumann Resonance measurement was 7.8 cycles per second. It is now over 11 cycles and climbing.) <br /><br />To adapt to these changes, we must ground ourselves. This can be done through nature walks, regular exercise or more meditative movements. I practice yoga daily and am now learning Tai Chi, a sequence of slow body movements that, like yoga, improve the mind-body connection. <br /><br />We all need to do what we can to stay in balance!Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-63835994883957586332012-01-06T15:30:00.000-08:002012-01-08T14:37:59.101-08:00One Sure Thing<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">At the local grocery store, I run into Mary, an elderly woman whom I haven’t seen in over a year. She was always thin, no visible fat on her small frame, but now she's gaunt. Although dressed in layers, including a warm coat, she says she’s “freezing” in the produce section as she and her sister look over the bins of onions and potatoes.<br /><br />I sense there is something terribly wrong with her health but dare not ask.<br /><br />I tell her it’s slippery outside and to watch out for the icy patches beneath the snow. Her reply: “Oh, yes. I fell already. On the front steps.”<br /><br />I am about to offer my sympathy when her sister speaks up. “It wasn’t the front steps and she didn’t fall this year.” She shrugs, “Her memory….”<br /><br />I walk away after exchanging New Year’s wishes, knowing that she will take good care of her sister. They have lived in the same house for decades and go everywhere together. Still, it’s a shock to see someone you’ve known for years and realize she’s no longer the same. <br /><br />I realized long ago that “security” is an illusion. All the wealth in the world cannot protect you from getting struck by a car, having a heart attack or getting sick. <br /><br />The only constant in life, they say, is CHANGE. Nothing stays the same – not our bodies, and usually not the relationships or situations that we deal with. We’re here to grow and learn and often the way we do this is through difficulty. An illness, for example, can force us to slow down and appreciate the things which we may take for granted – like the kindness of others or even the way the sunlight glints through the window pane on a frosty January morning. <br /><br />This year, 2012, is certain to be punctuated by the unexpected, considering the level of chaos in the world as well as the instability in many of our lives. It’s important to stay calm and centered, no matter what goes on around you. Find something to appreciate and to feel thankful for and send as much love and peace as you can to the planet (and to yourself). We are all more resilient than we imagine.<br /><br />Of one thing we can be absolutely sure. No matter what changes we experience, the human spirit will live on!Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-62695777556249834412011-09-07T07:43:00.000-07:002011-09-07T08:19:26.940-07:00Growing in the Dark<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">Now that my days of formal schooling are over, I find I continue to learn from the natural world. Even houseplants.<br /><br />Take my cala lily, for instance. This dark, leafy plant arrived at my mother's funeral from an absent relative three years ago. The plant would have been tossed out, so I brought it home. With its delicate white blossoms, it seemed to symbolize the sacredness of spirit passing into the light.<br /><br />This summer only one flower sprouts, straight and tall, from its center. I prune the plant, trimming and discarding all the dead foliage. To my surprise I see three tiny blossoms nestled beneath, gathering their strength before they emerge.<br /><br />They remind me of our hidden talents and abilities - the potential that many of us never get to realize. Like plants require soil and sunlight before they can flower, our gifts need to be nurtured. Our society does not encourage us to develop talents with no guarantee of monetary gain; we are told not to waste our time.<br /><br />Yet by not doing what we love - whether it is singing opera, acting in a play or stringing words together - part of our spirit shrivels and dies. Like the new blossoms on the cala lily, our talents want to grow.<br /><br />Storytelling has always fascinated me and brought me joy. I devour romantic films and novels. To date I sold 35 of my short stories to magazines and I am still mastering the novel in all its complexity. When I give myself over to the writing, I feel I am living two lives - my own and that of my story world which is often far more exciting. <br /><br />I cannot control what happens to my creations in the marketplace; I can only do my best and hope they emerge fully into the world. I don't want to die regretting what I did not dare.<br /><br />I hope you will honour whatever is calling you and nurture it for its own sake. It's the gift you give yourself now and maybe one day will be your gift to humanity.Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-17816995225378537602011-07-09T11:32:00.000-07:002011-07-09T11:37:12.051-07:00Running in the Rain<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">It’s late as I walk with my friend through the downtown streets of Montreal after enjoying outdoor events in the Old Port. We come upon a plaza in the center of Place Ville Marie. I recall coming here for years when it was only concrete. Now I see trees, large expanses of grass and flowering hedges. A fountain splashes around the graceful sculpture of a woman. We settle ourselves at the edge to enjoy the sound of rushing water. <br /><br />As it’s a warm night, we both kick off our sandals and dangle our feet in the slightly chlorinated pool at the base. The coolness refreshes me.<br /><br />From our vantage spot, we look up McGill College Avenue to see all the restaurants and street lamps, then beyond to Mount Royal (mountain in the center of the city) and the lighted cross at the top. Sitting here feels magical.<br /><br />I mention how I miss swimming and wish I could immerse my whole body in water right now. As though the heavens heard me, the skies open and a few drops of rain quickly turn into a torrent. <br /><br />We need to head for the subway but it continues to pour, bouncing water off the pavement. So we walk and run along Ste Catherine Street, getting thoroughly drenched. I see the water drip through my friend’s hair and down his face and feel it sliding over mine. Everything I have on is wet but it no longer seems to matter.<br /><br />I remember running barefoot in the rain as a child, holding my hands up to the sky. Now, as then, I feel exhilarated.Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-27981780039411401312011-07-09T11:17:00.000-07:002011-07-09T12:15:54.808-07:00A Celebration of Canada<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">On Canada Day, July 1st, I join the throngs at the Old Port of Montreal to celebrate our heritage. <br /><br />A huge white cruise ship is docked alongside yachts and power boats at the harbour and people spill over the concrete walkways and fill the park to overflowing. A stage has been erected for the free performances. I find the most lively and engaging is the Freddie James Project, delivering popular hits including “I Got a Feeling.” The crowds sway and clap, drawn into the pulsating energy of the music and the joy of this celebration.<br /><br />Surrounding me is a sea of faces – from the very old to the very young – that represents the cultural mix that is Canada. Chinese, Portuguese, Italian, Lebanese, Russian: most of us come from different countries or have parents or grandparents who did…but tonight we unite to show how glad we are to be here. <br /><br />This is a country where personal freedom is respected, where financial institutions with their more stringent regulations help to keep our resources safe, and healthcare as well as social programs are offered to the masses. We are also considered a tolerant society but will never condone violence and aggression. <br /><br />Tonight I feel the spirit of the people as hundreds of thousands of miniature maple leaf flags wave in the breeze. Although free concerts take place on Canada Day all over Montreal, this is the biggest party by far. We must be close to a million people.<br /><br />Interestingly, there is no mention of these events by the media the next day. Happy crowds and a growing national pride do not make news. <br /><br />What happened on July 1st, though, will forever live on in our memories. And I, like so many others, will continue to celebrate this day.Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-21670763086079295032011-05-14T10:27:00.001-07:002011-05-14T10:29:20.727-07:00Starting Over<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">Spring has arrived a month late in Montreal. A soft greening extends as far as the eye can see as leaves unfurl on trees and bushes and stretch towards the sun. During this time I find myself in the midst of home renovations which solidify as well as beautify the place where I live.<br /><br />It’s been weeks since I immersed myself in storylines, letting characters speak through me of their wants and tribulations. I miss the magic of creating worlds.<br /><br />My only consolation is knowing that this, too, shall pass and I will once again be free to focus on my work.<br /><br />The publishing industry is going through changes of its own as bookstores stock fewer and fewer books or shut down altogether while hand-held devices and electronic books become more and more popular. I don’t know how this will affect author earnings and rights. All I can do is write what I care about and offer an entertaining read.<br /><br />As a cycle of growth and renewal takes over the land, I hear the calling of birds and the rustling of my own novelist wings, eager to start again.Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-81008631123896818042011-03-15T05:40:00.000-07:002011-03-15T05:47:36.055-07:00When Tragedy Strikes<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">Japan just suffered a 9.0 magnitude earthquake, followed by a giant tsunami, which together unexpectedly took over 10,000 lives and displaced many more. As if that isn’t horrific enough, damaged nuclear reactors are exploding and releasing radiation.<br /><br />Is there anyone on the planet who does not feel the impact of the devastation? <br /><br />Like so many others, I watch the news in shock and feel that my contribution to foreign aid or prayers for victims and their families cannot begin to make a difference. Yet I know that our collective concern for the plight of the Japanese is what can turn things around. We cannot un-do the damage but we can unite in spirit and give our support.<br /><br />Because the truth is, none of us is immune to tragedy, whether on a personal or global level. And knowing that others care can help us to make the effort to pull through.<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-50023175996430789772011-01-12T18:32:00.000-08:002011-01-16T15:35:24.138-08:00Let the Silence Speak<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">Early January can be dreary – it starts to get dark almost as soon as we’re up, the wind howls past our windows and snow piles up outside, making travel hazardous.<br /><br />Not that I can complain this winter. Once more, Montreal is being spared. Another storm raging in NY State (south of here) shifts eastwards to the Maritimes and leaves us alone.<br /><br />Still, the holidays are behind us and spring nowhere in sight. It’s a quiet time, a period when creatures hibernate and even party goers lose their steam.<br /><br />Needing a diversion, I head downtown. For months, a mammoth Christmas tree filled the center of an indoor mall at Place Montreal Trust. All the decorations have now been stripped away. I hoped that the giant fountain beneath the artificial tree would again be visible and it is. <br /><br />Bone dry.<br /><br />I can almost hear the rush of water as it gushes twenty feet into the air only to cascade down like the musical notes on a harp. Is that the echo of children's laughter as they splash coins into the fountain? Soon the water will flow once more and these ghostly sounds will be real.<br /><br />Right now, a pool of silence fills my inner landscape. It’s the perfect time for me as a writer to let new characters populate my mind and fill it with their voices. In the stillness I can become inspired. <br /><br />The world of imagination never sleeps; all I have to do is tune in.Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-59744198699876126702010-11-01T09:30:00.000-07:002010-11-01T09:41:22.305-07:00Seeing Patterns in the Rain<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal"><br />Yellow leaves slide underfoot as my body falls into a natural rhythm. I forgot how good this feels – walking in the rain as moisture trickles down my face.<br /><br />I drink in the brilliance of foliage still clinging to trees and the tranquility of empty streets as night settles into the neighborhood. Villeray is an older section of the city where narrow staircases wind outside brick buildings, leading to flats on upper floors, and corner stores offer beer, cigarettes and a chance at this week’s lottery.<br /><br />I just visited an 89-year-old aunt who survived two strokes and is almost blind. As we sat in her kitchen, a canary dozed in a cage. He has surpassed his normal life span and is also blind. When my aunt recovered from her strokes, the bird grew back all his feathers after a complete molt. Interesting, isn’t it, how the world can reflect our experiences?<br /><br />I notice these connections more often these days.<br /><br />After an argument with a friend, I hear a song on the air about the pain of breaking up. Or I leave the mall in frustration because of not finding what I need and a car suddenly careens around the bend and races down the street, tires screeching. It seems to echo my feelings.<br /><br />I believe our outer reality often mirrors not only our experiences but our state of mind. It’s worth paying attention, even on a rainy night like this.Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-4962859677802058082010-09-18T19:00:00.000-07:002010-09-18T19:11:49.823-07:00Drumming for a Better World<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">Twenty of us sit in a circle with Indian drums at the foot of Mount Royal. Middle-aged or young, black or white – none of that matters. We are here to participate in a world event. Our facilitator, Sabrina, is a vision in white, her long, blond hair flying around her. She leads us through a meditation and a few powerful Earth songs, including: <br /><br />“We are the ancestors of the ones yet to be<br />And we are the paper of the previous tree<br />May everything we think and do<br />Make it all come out right, for we…” (repeat)<br /><br />We are at a crucial moment in our history, she says and must choose what we want to see in the world – more fear and upheaval or a future based on love. We will put out our intentions as we drum. <br /><br />I focus on peace and harmony. Others choose respect and equality for all, enough food for the planet’s inhabitants, kindness to animals… or alternative energy sources instead of fossil fuel. <br /><br />At 2:00 p.m. EST, we join drum circles around the globe. For 8 full minutes, we replicate the “heart beat” of Mother Earth, which is also our own. Under Sabrina’s guidance we visualize a green ribbon linking all our hearts and also connect to the earth and to the heavens. As we drum, our vision for a new planet is channeled through our hands. <br /><br />I shut my eyes and get into the rhythm. Ba-boom, Ba-boom. The beat is strong, constant. I feel the Oneness, the peace and harmony which I call upon. When I finally make my way home, the beat still echoes in my mind.Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-68048173842392528542010-08-23T08:23:00.000-07:002010-08-24T08:20:52.249-07:00A Writer's Retreat in the Woods<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">We trade stories around the fireplace as darkness swiftly gathers – a group of six women writers in a log cabin far from home. <br /><br />There is NO electricity in the cabin and NO roads around this starkly beautiful lake atop Mont Tremblant, a well known mountainous resort area in Quebec. We arrived here by boat, meandering our way around the twists and turns of the 32-mile lake.<br /><br />Yesterday I went swimming in the lake, mindful of the rocks below the surface. They remind me of the obstacles we all face as writers. The rocks were never a problem, I realize, it’s finding the will and ways to get around them. <br /><br />As logs crackle and shoot up flames, we talk about works in progress, books we read and loved (or hated), even movies. And trade whatever we feel like passing along – tips on storytelling, inside information on agents, publishers and the marketplace or conferences we enjoyed.<br /><br />Some of us are farther on the novelist’s path – multi-published or recently agented. Others still struggle with their stories and are taking different courses to address their weaknesses in writing. Our different experiences don't seem to matter; there is a spirit of camaraderie and sharing here, a feeling of wanting each other's success. <br /><br />“Congratulations on finishing!” one woman says, referring to the novel I finally sent off to an interested publisher after months of revisions. “It’s a great accomplishment.”<br /><br />Yes, I suppose it is. In the writer’s organization to which we all belong (Romance Writers of America), only 15% of members actually complete their novels and send them off to reputable agents or publishers. When they do this, they achieve “professional” status in the organization’s ranks and can network with others with similar skills and knowledge. It's great to now be part of such a dedicated group. <br /><br />Writing can be a solitary occupation but here in this cabin, as we share our triumphs and challenges, I no longer feel alone. And as I look around the room, the glow on the other women’s faces tells me they feel the same way.Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-69360686606097627202010-07-25T13:51:00.000-07:002010-07-25T14:00:53.221-07:00Living on the Edge<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">A seagull ruffles its feathers and nestles on the grass, preparing to nap in the July sunshine. What strikes me is where the bird has chosen to hunker down – right next to a busy bike path. It’s a popular route that follows the twists and turns of the St. Lawrence River. On such a fine Sunday, it will be crowded with skaters and cyclists; there are always a few who veer off the pavement on occasion. That gull has put himself in a potentially dangerous situation.<br /> <br />I think of all the people who live on the edge. They may face financial crises, marital woes or even trouble with the law. No one likes to be in difficulty for too long – it’s stressful – but there’s no denying the aliveness we feel as we try to regain control over our lives. It has to do with using all our resources to survive. Do these situations happen to us or do we, like the seagull, put ourselves at risk by our choices? <br /><br />Maybe we get involved with unstable partners or friends or must deal with the consequences of our own reckless acts. It’s exciting on the edge but it’s not sustainable. Eventually we want peace and calm in our lives. <br /><br />The seagull can always move. We, too, can decide to seek safer ground.Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-30616443983515008502010-04-14T15:17:00.001-07:002010-04-14T15:36:17.430-07:00Fast Track to Nowhere<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">April in Montreal this year is unusually warm. I take advantage of the mild weather by jogging around a high school track, counting laps. Other people join me, some running, some walking. The more adventurous are bare-legged and short-sleeved. We all go in circles as we tally minutes or kilometers.<br /><br />My completed laps remind me of some of the milestones in my life - getting married and then divorced, buying my first house, selling stories and articles to magazines, learning to speak in public and giving motivational talks. Years rushed by as I squeezed more activities into less time.<br /><br />Now my pace has slowed, enough for me to notice the crows watching from the top of lamp posts and see the rays of sunshine shrink behind a row of trees.<br /><br />Going around this track, there's no destination, no purpose except to appreciate my feelings of well-being and breathe in the cool evening air.<br /><br />The journey is all that matters.<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-7915989858410755192009-11-13T15:45:00.000-08:002009-11-13T16:01:04.204-08:00When Opportunity Knocks<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">Back from a writer's conference, I sit in my home office surrounded by piles of paper. I just completed the second draft of my novel and have a stack of changes to make. I have three months to get it into shape and send it off to New York.<br /><br />Why?<br /><br />When I attended the New Jersey Romance Writers Conference, a two-day event with 350 participants, I didn't intend to pitch my novel to anyone. I knew it wasn't finished. Several writers booked appointments with literary agents and editors. At the eleventh hour, there were cancellations; a slot came free to pitch to an editor at NAL, a major New York publisher that takes paranormal. I took it.<br /><br />At the very most, I expected to find out if there was any interest in the general lines of my story. I pitched, the editor asked pertinent questions and then she asked for the complete manuscript by email. Just like that.<br /><br />NAL doesn't normally consider unagented material so this IS a rare opportunity.<br /><br />Before the request, I had a self-imposed deadline and worked on and off on the writing. Now I am knee-deep in manuscript pages (400 in total), in the midst of cutting, revising and polishing. It's what fiction writers do. The editor's request gave me a welcome push.<br /><br />When we believe in our dreams and actively pursue them, a momentum is created - an energy that taps into the field of possibilities. Then we are more likely to have opportunity knock.<br /><br />Be prepared - it could happen to you!<br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-66487652551164666892009-10-07T06:37:00.000-07:002009-11-13T16:04:07.209-08:00A Sip of Serenity<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">At the YMCA music blasts from the upper floor, where a roomful of women flap their arms, climb on and off steppers and swing their bodies around. In the Fall everything shifts into high gear. People get into shape, start classes and plunge into their working lives with new vigor.<br /><br />It’s a go-get-‘em world where everyone rushes just to keep up. Family, job, bills to pay, kids to raise… there’s hardly enough time to breathe.<br /><br />Listening to the pounding on the floor above me, I sit in a small lounge at the Y and sip my orange/mango juice. After 31 years of a busy office career, I now have different priorities. Earlier today I visited an elderly aunt with bronchitis. In a few minutes I’ll catch a movie with a friend and later on I will tackle the next chapter of my novel. <br /><br />Things that used to seem important now seem less so. Sharing a smile or an honest conversation has become more meaningful than making a pile of money. There’s nothing to prove and no one to impress. Tranquility and a slower pace are the new norm.<br /><br />As I leave the building, a red maple leaf flutters from the sky – a graceful reminder of the changing season. Half a dozen people hurry past as it falls unnoticed to the ground.Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-11712544752406521262009-07-31T14:37:00.000-07:002009-11-13T16:03:51.517-08:00Return of the Frogs<p class="MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">Something amazing is happening to our natural habitats. This is what I discovered in a suburb of Montreal, a city of three million in eastern Canada.<br /><br />I live a short distance from parkland along the St. Lawrence River. This area borders the rapids and includes small waterfalls. There’s a lagoon with lots of bushes and trees – known as a wild bird sanctuary where kingfishers, mallards and great blue herons regularly appear. Like elsewhere in North America, contaminants in the river have poisoned the fish; air and soil pollution decimated the population of animals that lived here long ago.<br /> <br />After sunset, I stroll over to this park. It’s a beautiful evening, with cooling breezes and clouds trailing the sky in odd shapes. As dusk falls I hear a chorus of crickets and the “ri-bitt!” of frogs.<br /><br />Frogs! I’ve lived here over twenty years and rarely heard them before. Has something brought them back? The sound of their croaking is melodious to my ears. <br /><br />In the semi-darkness, I see a beaver swim across the lagoon to a stretch of lush water grasses.<br /><br />What I am noticing lately is the presence of all kinds of creatures I’ve never seen here before – red foxes, weasels, vibrant-looking grass snakes, and large snails with decorative shells which I used to see in the countryside farther north.<br /><br />As I turn to head home, I look down. A small green frog sits on the path. He lets me admire him but makes a huge leap when I try to pick him up. Everything about him looks healthy – and this is the sense I now have about this riverside park.<br /><br />I heard the vibrational frequency of the planet is rising to new levels. Could it be that the Earth herself is also being cleansed?Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2921670405226675780.post-32167584167161081282009-05-30T16:20:00.000-07:002009-11-13T16:03:21.947-08:00Spring Rain<p class-"MsoNormal"><p class="MsoNormal">For seven straight days, the streets of Montreal have teemed with rain. This morning is no exception as I watch raindrops bounce off the pavement and create widening circles in puddles at the curbs. Everywhere I go, I smell the pungency of wet earth and the delicate scent of lilacs and other flowers in bloom.<br /><br />There’s something very cleansing about the rain; it washes away the grit of winter and helps us to prepare for a new season.<br /><br />I think of the healing that takes place when we cry – what a release it can bring. Sadness and grief, when we allow them to flow through us, can lead to peace and acceptance. Men, especially, are socialized to hold their softer emotions in check. Why should crying be less acceptable than laughter? We all need to express both.<br /><br />A year ago, in the month of May, my dear mother passed on. Fresh grass now grows on her burial plot and mauve tulips stand tall next to her tombstone. Only one or two tears slide down my cheeks as I pay my respects at the cemetery. Her spirit is free now, no longer bound by time or place or affected by the elements.<br /><br />I can almost hear her shout, “Let it rain – let it rain!”Thelma Marianohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05818546012683226255noreply@blogger.com0