My last post here...moving on to jennhicks.ca

Image by J. Star via Flickr

Thursday April 19, 2007.

That was the date of my first blog post at jennhicks.blogspot.com (well my first blog post anywhere really!).  You can see it here if you're interested. Today, nearly 3.5 years later, Thursday October 7, 2010, this is my last post here. I'll be blogging over at my brand new website from now on!

Thanks for the memories, dear blog.

I have Jamie Ridler of Jamie Ridler Studios to thank for my love of blogging and being online connecting with so many amazing people!

It started with my weekly date with Sunday Scribblings,  where I had a weekly writing date with the lovely Ms. Meg Genge and Ms. Laini Taylor. With their prompts, I wrote about all kinds of stuff - really amazing stuff like oceans and wings and masks and my job as queen of the world.

From there, I began blogging about my dreams, my travels, my work, and everything else in between. In the process, I have learned a TON of stuff about myself and about the look and feel and creation of this little online world.

Now I continue the sharing from my new website and fondly remember all the good stuff created here.
Thank you beautiful blog. I love you!

Come on over and join me!


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Sunday Scribblings #110 Demand

Image by alicepopkorn via Flickr

Dear humanity,

I promise

To swaddle and nurture existence, bringing forth 

renewal, crisp growth

and lasting succession.

I promise

Ubiquitous brimming beauty; longevity

the world over.

I promise

Simple abundance, effortless enjoyment

Everything you need.

 

When we cooperate there is magnificence.

What happened?

I demand we revive the partnership that fizzled

when you decided to give up.

The alliance that made it work.

Before this. 

Sincerely,

Mother Nature

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Sunday Scribblings #109 - Message

Image by tamaradulva via Flickr

M - my

E  - essence

S  - sends

S  - simple

A  - advice

G  - giving (me)

E  -  energy

M - many

E  - everyday

S  - situations

S  - support
A - average (and)

G - great

E - escapades

Image by elvis_payne via Flickr

 M  - mix

E  - every

S  - sense

S  - so

A - angst

G - gets

E  - evaporated

M - marinate

E - essential

S - statements (and)

S - stimulate

A - a

G - generous

E - experience

M - make

E  - everyone

S  - such

S  - soft

A  - animals

G - gifted (with) 

E - enthusiasm

Image by chrisjohnbeckett via Flickr

Sunday Scribblings #108 - Yes

I have not posted to Sunday Scribblings yet in 2010.

But now here I am, and I say  

                             yes    yEs                     YES

    yes       yes

                                 Yes              yes

      yes                   YES  YESYES
YES

yes YES yes

Yes to figuring out how to live in a sandwich of sadness

Yes to leading with my heels out into the life that awaits me

Yes to realizing that I am my own best medicine

Yes to taking care of myself

Yes to absorbing the abundance of love that surrounds me.

        yes                                              yes

YES      YES   YES   YES

YES
                            YES                        yes
                              yes                                   yes

Sunday Scribblings #107 - Game

Straight from urbandictionary.com

The definitions are chuckle worthy!

These are fun to have delivered daily to your inbox!

1.	game
	1) (n) something you play, usually a competitive activity 2) (v) to play a game (see def. 1) 3) (n) an animal that is hunted 4) (n) skill or ability in any game (see def. 1) 5) (int) short for "Game over!" 6) (n) a measure of smoothness with the opposite sex 7) (n) lines or moves you use to get the opposite sex into bed 8) (adv) a state of being willing to do something 9) (n) that thing from that movie "The Game" 1) Drinking Checkers is a shitty drinking game. Beirut is better. 2) I just went to Vegas and got fucked over by the gaming industry. 3) Yo' honor, I didn't mean to shoot that mothafucka in that gang war...I thought he was game, you know, like a deer or some shit. 4) Shaq lost to Aaron Carter in 1-on-1? Damn that fool must have no game at all. 5) 3-pointer at the buzzer...it's good! That's game! 6) You couldn't even get some from Line-em-up Liz? Cracka you must have no game. 7) I broke out the old "You must be from Tennessee" game on the bitch and it worked like a charm. 8) You want to go to the ball game, game at the casino, shoot some game, then work game on some bitches? I'm game. 9) Welcome to the game, Nicky. We're here to make life...fun.
2.	game
	1. pick up lines 2. skill 3. mojo/sexdrive 1. I'm feelin' ya game, I holla at you later. 2. Babyboy's got game, I don't think I can handle him. 3. Shit, baby, ya game is off...
3.	game
	The ability to seduce anybody of the opposite sex...or same sex for that matter. "First Night Ima Break her, aint Gotta Fight Or Make her, I got Game like a Laker" Lloyd Banks-Short stay "I spit game cuz baby I can't talk it" Nelly-Hot in herre
4.	game
	ability; skillz; will to do something. 1. cuz you got no game son! 2. I've gots the mad game yo'! 3. quittin' on me? that's a sign of no game!
5.	Game
	An affirmative confirmation of one's partaking in such activity. "Yea man i'm game"
6.	game
	A referense to an illigit bussiness, usually the drug game. Can also mean the entire thug lifestyle. -also, the ability one possesses to "sweet talk" a female. -also also Dr. Dre's new artist and G Units new member. MA nigga, i'm, comin up in the game
7.	Game
	1 : discourse marked by force and persuasiveness, either with women or in any situation to get what one wants; also : the art or power of using such discourse 2 : the quality of forceful or persuasive expressiveness "Tyrone pulled that hot chocolate model last night because he got game."

Sunday Scribblings #106 - Oracle

I must admit, until just now, I had no clue what the word "oracle" meant. I mean, sure, when I first read the word, I thought about fortune tellers and Ouija boards, but really had no clear concept about the word's meaning.

In other words, I read the prompt for Sunday Scribblings this week and thought, "ok, not so smart over here. Don't even know what the word oracle even means, so how can I write about it!"

Enter Wikipedia and Google Images (how did I ever do research before these life altering tools arrived and implanted themselves in my MacBook?).

Wikipedia says:
An oracle is a person or agency considered to be a source of wise counsel or prophetic opinion. It may also be a revealed prediction or precognition of the future, from deities, that is spoken through another object or life-form  .

The highlighted part had me going "WOW, Really?"

Prediction of the future. Huh.

Here's what Google Images gave me:

Artistic Credit

This is all so bizarre. This topic, and this definition and this beautiful image.

Why?

Well, on 3 separate occasions this past week, I have had these weird experiences where just that has happened. I think of something, and then it happens.

This has never happened before.

I think of something, and then it happened - occasion # 1

On Wednesday morning, I was in the shower. For no reason at all, a memory popped into my mind of  an occasion where, at the last minute,  I was asked to co-teach Nia with my Nia teacher Martha Randall . When I opened my email over breakfast, Martha's message asking me to co-teach that morning was a the top of my inbox.

I think of something, and then it happened - occasion #2

On Wednesday evening, I was at a Twitter workshop (hosted by the amazingly knowledgeable  Jaime Almond and Rachel Foster ). Before the workshop started,  I was looking at my MacBook screen and thinking about a few things that I needed to follow up on after the workshop.  My mind led me to a gentlemen by the name of Marcus Schwartz who had interviewed me about my Nia fitness business at a Nia event back in June. At the time, we discussed using the interview for a podcast.  His card had been sitting on my desk for months, and I was aware of the need to touch base with him.
The seminar began, and introductions started. I turned to look over my left shoulder, and there was Marcus Schwartz, sitting just a few rows ahead of me.

I think of something, and then it happened - occasion #3

On Thursday afternoon, I was driving home from seeing a client. I was listening to 102.1 The Edge on the radio as usual. One song ended, and in the 2 seconds of silence that followed, I began to hear the first 3 notes of a song. Those same 3 notes followed on the radio. You guessed it, I had heard the next song in my mind.


Explanation? 
Probably best left to the mystery of it all.....

Sunday Scribblings #105 - Adventure

Do you remember reading choose-your-own-adventure novels?

What a pleasure to be able to exercise that kind of control, to tailor my experience.

I guess those novels served as an early literary lesson in how to customize and care for my own life path. Options, all I need are options...

(click on image to enlarge) 

Sunday Scribblings #104 - Shame

I could talk about the concept of shame for hours.
But I feel like I've already said what I need to say, so I'll keep it short.

Shame is almost instinctual.

For instance, when recently traveling in Hungary, I explained to my Hungarian friend's husband, Gabor, that we Canadians continually apologize. Even when a situation is not our fault, we babble on and offer "sorry". God knows why, but we do. Pretty pathetic really.

So my way of connecting with Gabor and his minimal command of English (and my paltry command of Hungarian) was to jokingly say "sorry, sorry" each time we interacted. He thought that was funny, and so did I.

And yet I've grown to learn there's really no room for shame in our existence.

We are what we are and who we are and we have been given our lot to move us along the path towards achieving englightenment. Simple. That's it.

I remember my Reiki master in Riskhikesh, India telling us that asking the universe for our needs and desires is our birthright. So we shouldn't feel shame in asking for what we desire.

One of my classmates (let's call him Bob, cuz I forget his real name) in my Reiki training was balding. Bob was cool. He was a nurse from America who was disillusioned with his work in allopathic health care. He knew there must be something more to healing. High five to Bob.

Our Reiki master (man, what was her name!??! dang....) had us doing an exercise where we were to do Reiki on our intentions or dreams. See, the thing about  Reiki  is that channeling it (it or Reiki being 'universal life force energy') into things we see and intend helps bring about additional power to that thing or intention.

I guess it's kind of like taking vitamins during the wintertime to help boost our immune systems and guard against colds and flus.

So in any case, 'Bob' wanted to to create an intention about having a full head of hair, but said he felt guilty about that.

"But it's your birthright to have what you want" said our German Reiki Master (whatever her name was).

That stuck with me.

No shame for what we want, desire or are.
That would be against our birthright.

Photo credit

Does this picture not depict the stupidity of shame?

Sunday Scribblings #103 - Junk

I have this interesting relationship with the word "junk".

I can hear myself saying it with emphasis:  "JJJUNK".

This way of saying it involves using seriously pursed lips for the /j/ sound, a clipped /k/ and an overall kind of harsh-slash-angry pronunciation of the whole word.

Is it a suprise that my twin sister Kim says this word in the very same way? And that now my husband Paul and my nephew Andrew follow suit? Imitation is a form of flattery, or so they say....

When Paul and I moved from Jedburgh Rd. to Cambridge Ave, I remember him wanting to sell stuff we'd been storing in our basement left by Vivian (the previous owner).  They were things we thought we might use some day, but had never got around to doing so in the 5 years we'd lived there.

So obviously this stuff wasn't much use to us (i.e., it was JUNK), and I seriously questioned whether it would be of any use or interest to anyone else.  Nonetheless.  the debate was about the effort involved in selling it vs. the ease of walking it down the driveway. Posting it on Craigslist, getting a fair price and arranging delivery was far too much to think about in my mind. Walking a few steps to the curb was much more reasonable and efficient for me.

Paul argued that the stuff was "antique".  I  maintained it was "junk".

In the end, it ended up on the curb. My fastidiousness and purging attitude won out over Paul's laziness. Bonus for me!

Sunday Scribblings #102 - Tattoos

I have a couple of tattoos and a few piercings. I like them for the individual I feel they make me. Yet I giggle inside about the fact that one day I'm sure to be in a long term care facility and that I'll be sagging all over the place with this unique body art that will surely be lost on whomever is wiping my ass at that time (graphic, yes, but come on, it's true!)

Here's the story of my body art: 

Tattoo #1

Tattoo: "Made in Canada" framing a maple leaf. How patriotic! (and true! I was "made in Canada" I verified it with my mom just to be sure!).

Location: Inside my right ankle. It got a little messed up when the needle hit my ankle bone and I flinched with a WTF kind of reflex! As a result it reads "Nade in Canada"!

Date of Tattooing: I'm a little fuzzy here. I'm guess-timating it was in the summer of 1989; possibly 1990)
City of Tattooing:  Near Springdale, Newfoundland, Canada.
Location of Tattooing: A stranger's basement. No, seriously. There were no tattoo parlours in NFLD in those days!
Accompanied by: Matthew Hancock, boyfriend at-the-time. He was born in Springdale NFLD.
Occasion: Hancock family homecoming trip to NFLD .
Side notes: That same day, Matthew had a tattoo with an outline of the province of NFLD which said "Home Sweet Home".   I still think it was kind of cool that we were country/province-loving first time tattoo recipients!  Also, my "Made in Canada"  tattoo is what I lovingly refer to as my HIV / HEP RISK tattoo (when I was too young to know/understand hygiene and risks of lack there-of),


 Tattoo #2 

Tattoo: A rabbit made of stone.  A rabbit. NOT A BUNNY! I made sure there was to be no bunny-like being on my body....

Location:  On my back, between my shoulder-blades.

Date of Tattooing: Christmas 2006. It was a Christmas gift between Paul and I. He and I both had that rabbit permanently embossed on our bodies in the same place.
City of Tattooing:  Toronto, Ontario, Canada.
Location of Tattooing: Yonge St. Tattoos.  Eric who did the drawing and the work, but he's no longer there : (
Accompanied by: Paul Kralik, my loving husband who got the same tattoo in the same location.
Occasion: Christmas, bonding.
Side notes: Paul and I chose to have rabbit tattoos emblazoned on our backs.  Paul's last name (Kralik) means "little rabbit" in Slovak.  That's the basic meaning behind them.
But there's another part of the "deep meaning" of the tattoos: I had been *desperately* attempting to draw an Inukshuk verison of a rabbit in my drawing class. (An Inukshuk is a man-made stone landmark or cairn used by the Cairn, Inupiat, Kalaallit, Yupik, and other peoples of the Arctic region of Northa America, from Alaska to Greenland. To me it represented northern Ontario where I spent a lot of time as a child).
I was, at the time, pretty serious about being able to draw my own future tattoo. But I had to come back down to reality eventually! I gave up and handed over the idea to Eric who came up with what he did.
Eric also informed me that I happened to be allergic to the red ink of my first tattoo, which had kind of gone brown a little at the red edges....

I love the body stories I carry!

Do you love yours too?

Sunday Scribblings #101 - Key

Keeping true to self

Practicing compassion 

and gratitude.

That's the key.

Sunday Scribblings #100 - Poetry

    CELEBRATION ALERT!!!   

 CELEBRATION ALERT!!!
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This is the 100th post I've made to Sunday Scribblings. 

I have Jamie Ridler to thank for introducing me to this wonderful blogging community! 

I'm honouring her by inviting her to a *FREE* Nia class with me

(Learn more about Jamie 

~ a professional creative self-development coach 

and 

online business-entreprenessa ~ here)

I'm ALSO celebrating this Centennial event 

by *promising* to honour  

the FIRST person to comment on this post 

with a  

home-made gift posted DIRECT TO YOU from ME! 

(here's the poem:)

Sparkling cells shimmer,

lighting up with certainty.

I spend only moments,

and soon they are deeply content.

I send my breath through

more than 60 trillion cells.

Firing, jumping, dancing, singing.

I find pleasure and invite each one

into a voyage of ecstasy.

I honour my entire being

by taking it along for a thrill-ride

as I practice Nia.

Sunday Scribblings #99 - Adult

As a child, I remember longing for adulthood.

Because when I became an adult, I wouldn't have someone telling me what to do.
And no one would force me to take naps or play sports I was no good at (the t-ball trauma comes to mind).

Back in those days, little-girl Jenn dreamed of being an adult with enough money to buy cool clothes that didn't come from thrift shops.

An adult who knew better than her babysitters, her mom, her aunts, uncles and grandparents. 

 

(that's me, little-miss-smarty-pants in the red gingham dress on the left) 

Yup, that childhood longing spawned visions of a perfect adulthood. One where I would get straight As in everything I did because I could do that easily in school.

One where there was never any anger, hurt, loneliness or guilt.  

But what I didn't realize was that as an adult I'd be forced to take care of myself.
And that along with the glamour fantasies, there would be work. Real work.
That I would stumble and be continually challenged.

And that, along with being in charge of myself came admitting to failure and asking for help.

As a child, I didn't realize how much help and support I needed to be an adult.

I can't do it alone!

Sunday Scribblings # 98 - 7 Dinner Guests

7 guests at my dinner table.
My choice.

But no,
I decline that option.
Over-stimulating. Under-gratifying.

I don't need genius, celebrity or saintliness.
The ego chatter can't please.
There is no place at my table for that

No, I'll have just 1 guest, thanks.
My dad.
Having his undivided attention
would
reach into my dark places
with a little light.

Sunday Scribblings # 97 - Anticipate

Is it wise to anticipate?
Anticipate what? Danger? A warm welcome? The weather? My future needs?

The steadfast Girl Guide rule "Be Prepared" suggests anticipation is beneficial.

I anticipate, I am prepared. Anticipation = preparation = I'll always have my umbrella when I need it, I'll always have milk because I'll buy more before we run out, and I'll have that "rainy day" money when I need it.

Yet from another point of view, consider the synonym for the word anticipate: expect.
Expecting ups the ante; it suggests desire. In that context, then, maybe anticipating is not helpful.

To expect anything usually results in disappointment. The energy of expectation clogs the drain of possibility.

But perhaps on the continuum of conviction, anticipating is a little less intense. It's something one is "hoping" for and perhaps one is not as invested in the outcome as when one is expecting something.

Either way, anticipating ties us to the future and takes us away from the present.

Am I better off being in the moment than being prepared? Are both possible?

Sunday Scribblings #96 - Human

I am human.
Bones, muscles, ligaments, tendons, cartilage,
organs.
Because I carry these things with me, does that mean I’m human?

Upright body carriage. Tool-using, abstract reasoning, language using, introspecting and problem solving.
Is that what being human is about?

No, I think it's more like this:
I am human because I am
A soul of individuality careening from mistakes to realizations.
I am full of flaws yet flawless in imperfection.
I learn, unlearn and discover how to solve my own puzzle.
I am human.

Human-ifique.

Sunday Scribblings #95 - Toys

I remember several of my childhood toys which provided comfort:

Squeaky ~ a plush pink & white mouse (re-named "Mousey" by my 4-year-0ld nephew Andrew)
Mary ~ a stuffed doll with a plastic face and hands
Mon chi chi ~ my stuffed "cradle in my arm" monkey
Jessica Lynne ~ my hairless blue-eyed Cabbage Patch doll who had a distaste for sauerkraut

BUT NO BARBIE DOLLS!!!

I had suitcases full of them, but I resented them.
They made me uncomfortable.
They seemed to smirk at me.
Their plastic personas were cold.
I preferred plush.
Something in me knew that Barbie Dolls falsified the truth of women everywhere...
Maybe bullshit, but it makes sense to me now, in this moment.

Sunday Scribblings #94 - Covert

The color of reality is sometimes black.
Like when there is the persuasive aroma of sun-dappled longing.
Which forces wafting pleasure to be sheltered.
And urges the shapes of clandestine holding.
Where layered penalties veil the skin of certain truth.
Still, their cells act as a haven of veracity.
She.
And Her.
He.
And Him.
Covert lovers.

Sunday Scribblings #93 - Worry

Chronic worry can lead to a host of physical ailments: heart attacks, high blood pressure, ulcers, gastrointestinal problems, muscular aches and pains, skin rashes, eczema, respiratory problems and asthma. Close to one in four people, at some point in their lives, meet criteria for diagnosable anxiety disorders related to worry which require professional treatment.
Canadian Mental Health Association

A quick google search and here's what I learn about a few prescriptions for worry:


WORRY DOLLS

These very small and colorful dolls traditionally made in Guatemala. A person (usually a child) who cannot sleep due to worrying can express their worries to a doll and place it under their pillow before going to sleep. Some medical centers use them in conjunction with treatment for disease in children.

According to folklore, the doll is thought to worry in the person's place, thereby permitting the person to sleep peacefully. The person will wake up without their worries, which have been taken away by the dolls during the night. Parents may remove the doll during the night, reinforcing the child's belief that the worry is gone.
Some parents involve the child in making the dolls to further increase the psychological benefits of releasing worries.

Because they are inexpensive and small to transport, many tourists buy the dolls. Many are also sold online, and some office workers in the United States put them on their desks or computer monitors.

WORRY BEADS


Kombolói or kompoloi (Greek: κομπολόι, pronounced [komboˈloj] or [koboˈloj]) "bead collection"; plural: κομπολόγια pronounced [ko(m)boˈloja] romanized as kombolóya) is a part of modern Greek culture, used to relieve stress and generally pass the time.
Komboloi: a traditional "stress toy" or "fidget toy"

How does it work?

* By repeating the same motion (counting or flipping the beads --> see below how
to do this)
* By repeating a word, sound, prayer, affirmation, goal, etc. as you finger each
bead
* By the energy and special properties contained in each type of material
(gemstones, amber, etc.) which is transferred to your hands
* By meditating on the color and shape of the beads
* By giving yourself something to do while waiting or feeling stressed
* By associating your beads with calm/serene moments

BASIC KOMBOLOI FLIP
Instructions on using Greek worry beads : komboloi

1. The easiest "flip" starts by holding the komboloi by its end, or midway among the beads (divide the beads in half and hold the string somewhere in the middle). While looking at your hand with the palm facing up, the worry bead set should be swaying down towards the ground.

2. While applying only a minimal amount of energy, swing the set upward and over your index finger.

3. Now it hangs over the top of your hand, or the palm side of all four fingers. You may use your thumb to individually move each bead over the top, or repeat the flip.

Try this simple flip over and over, until you get to a point where you can flip repeatedly without much thought. Focusing on the beads and their motion takes your mind away from worries and a degree of relaxation is achieved. Additionally, restlessness, impatience, nervousness can be reduced, simply because you are doing something to pass the time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Some great ideas. Really sensible alternatives to making myself sick by internalizing and withdrawing - that's what I do when I'm worried. Course talking about my worries would help too....

Sunday Scribblings # 92 - Healing

Sunday Scribblings is asking me to talk about

Healing.

I can't help it. This is a gift of another opportunity for me to speak about Nia

I recently submitted an article to ParticipACTION. It's this Canadian initiative to motivate Canadians to get active and be healthy. When I was a kid, ParticipACTION made it's way into the classroom. It was hip to be healthy.

In the late 80s and for most of the 90s it wasn't all that cool (or at least publicized) to be fit.

Then a resurgence of ParticipACTION occured a few years back.

And I quickly submitted my fitness/wellness story to the online call. It was about Nia (and a whole lot more). It was rejected at first - a bit too graphic, I suppose. Anorexia and Bipolar Disorder can be that way.

In any case, they eventually accepted an edited version of my wellness & healing saga. See it here:


I still find much healing through Nia
There are days when I don't want to wake up (and I don't!!!), and I don't want to take my meds (sometimes I don't....until Paul catches on to me). But Nia is a big part of my self-regulation plan.

It has given me confidence beyond belief. Take a look at this. See how confident I am now?



Nia. Through movement I found health....