You Are the Gift

Spring in Victoria

Gillian Cornwall, c. 2015

Have you ever worked your hardest at something and been over the moon excited to deliver it, only to receive little or no response or a different response than the one for which you had hoped?

Have you ever felt terribly dejected and hopeless, wanting to throw in the towel, certain you had failed, that you made no difference or impact whatsoever even though you had given it your all?

It's a disappointment, a debilitating feeling that most of us (okay, probably all) have faced or will face at different times in our lives. For those of you out there who are carrying these feelings, whether from recent or long past disappointments, I would like you to consider this:

We may believe we have failed, been ignored, misunderstood, overlooked or pushed aside but, the fact is, most of the time we are projecting the term failure onto the truth, which is: we are unaware of the actual impact we are having as a result of our actions. Sometimes, we miss the facts because we are so focused on the fiction we have written for ourselves around our own value and impact on others. We wrap our gift, whether verbal, physical, emotional or physical, in a hyperbole of our own expectations of the reception of the gift. 

"I have given this;

therefore, I expect that."

This is a pointless exercise as we cannot control the way our gifts are received - we can only give them. The truth is, we don't always know when or how our actions and words impact others. All we can do is be kind and true in our interactions.

If you feel as though you don't make a difference in the lives of others, I can guarantee that you are mistaken. You matter. If you have ever smiled at someone - friend or stranger, held a door open for someone or even thought a positive thought about a fellow being, then you have facilitated an endless ripple effect of positive energy and opportunity throughout time and space! You matter. You are a vessel of possibility and love. You are unique and irreplaceable. 

Your capacity to see another, to lift them with a smile, to give of yourself freely without expectation of return - this is your greatest gift to the world. Never doubt for a minute that you make a difference. You may not always get the reaction you hoped you would get or the result you expected, but if you put your heart into something, that in itself makes the world better. You may not know the difference you made right there and then, but be patient. Your good works will feed you and guide you and, if you are too focused on waiting and looking in one direction for your expected outcome, you may miss a beautiful gift being delivered from another direction. 

Give the gifts of yourself with a good heart. Do not worry about how they are received as that is beyond your control. Trust in your value as a loving person. Give what you are free to give and let go. 

I dedicate this to all those who suffer from anxiety and worry that they are somehow insufficient, not producing enough, or not succeeding enough, or not giving enough. I see your kind hearts and you are enough. Wishing you love and hoping I offer some light along your paths. 

Gillian Cornwall, February 26, 2017

-original post, c. March 29, 2015

From sky to tree to sea

Gillian Cornwall, c. 2012

Be Brilliant, Bold and Mitigate Expectations

Maui - North Shore

Oil Pastel on Paper | Approx. 8"x 10"
Gillian Cornwall, c. 2012

Sold

I originally posted this piece in 2014. I wanted to reflect on it from my perspective today. I hope it gives something to you too: 

My brother once told me, "Expect nothing and hope for the best." Many seasons have passed since he imparted this sage advice and, to this day, hope and expectation can blur on my page like once vivid watercolours, running from brilliant individual rivulets into a murky pool.

Love. Fear. Love. Fear. Love. Fear. Love. Fear. Love. Fear. Love.

There they go again, marching across the page, weaving together the precept of every piece I've ever written. Tiresome, isn't it? ...but also true. With every step, every breath, every crossroad, we must decide which path to tread. 

This brings me to the title of this week's piece. Let's look at the parts:

Brilliant: bright, clever, impressive, excellent - from the French brillant: shining

Bold: willing to take risks, confident, courageous

Mitigate: make something (bad) less severe or lessen the gravity of something painful; from Latin mitigat- softened, alleviated

So, it looks like I'm saying: shine and be courageous but make sure you do it as your truth rather than from a desire to receive a response or change from something or someone because if you expect results, you can be disappointed or hurt. Yes, that is what I meant. Good. Sorry to take you down that road with me but I wanted to make sure I was going where I need to go with this. 

Hope: v. want something to happen or be the case 

Interestingly, as a verb, hope relates more to want than expectation; whereas, as a noun, expectation is dominant in the use of the word

Expect: v. regard something as likely to happen

My brother's wise words convey that it is okay to want something but not to rely on it. I agree with this too.

Recognize that the greater your brilliance, boldness and joie de vivre, the more likely it is that you will be met with an equal and opposite energy of naysayers and folks who need to shadow themselves from your light. I want to remind you that reaction is not a measurement of the value of your action. If your intent is for the positive, if your action comes from a place of love rather than fear, then you may listen and consider but it is not for you to own or carry the reaction of another. 

So if you shine, shine. Be bold. Explore. Your light may be the very thing that someone needs to light their path or it may take you to a place that opens your heart and soul to reaches you have never imagined. Do not let your brilliance and boldness be extinguished by other people's fears. Your light is a foundation of greatness, of living a full and passionate life. Do not walk your path as though it is a red carpet, looking for applause or judgement. Walk your path for the journey, for the delight and learning of life. I'll see you along the way. 

May we have less fear and more love on each of our paths. That which we hold too tightly will only result in loss. The tighter we try to hold on to that which we have, the more likely it is to slip through our fingers to where there is room for it to be without pressure. Let go. Don't buy into the fear. May we make more decisions out of love and less out of fear. Wishing each of you some freedom in letting go of fear. Share what you have if you can give it freely and without expectation of return on investment - other than the good feeling of having given something. Avoid resentment. It is toxic and will poison your well-being. 

Be well and live with as much freedom as you can and, to all the folks that keep shining in their brilliance, thank you for your light. 

-Gillian Cornwall, February 19, 2017

Original post, August 24, 2014

Surf - Oil Pastel on Paper 

Approx. 8" x 10"

Gillian Cornwall, c. 1988

Available

You are Whole

Love - in each creation - perfection

Gillian Cornwall, c. 2015

Okay, so here's the deal, as I see it:

You need no one to make you whole; you are perfectly complete and amazing as you are. If one should enter your world to love you, and you to love them, it should only add to your already complete capacity to live your unique life. If another person depletes you over an extended period, it may not be the best course of action for either of you. If you add to the life of each other, support one another and accept one another as you were found, then jolly good!

The fact is, we needn't pair up. We can if we want to, but we cannot be completed by another. I reiterate, each of us is a whole and perfect being on our own particular path of life. As I wrote to my soul sister, the remarkable Sheila Jeffries, the other day:

"Happy Valentines Day to everyone who can feel their heart beating within their chest - each rhythmic thump is a wave of love out to the world as a gift from you to the perfect universal unity that exists within, and between, each of us ...if we just allow it to be so."

Life is opportunity to embrace the amazing machine, the open thermodynamic system, that you are. Life is your chance to be fluid, to let go, to stop holding and being afraid. There is enough love, enough energy for all. Let go. Let it flow through you from your connection to all that is - up through your feet and out through the top of your head. Let it rise up through the world and cycle down through the earth and up through your feet again.

Magnolia

Gillian Cornwall, c. Spring 2014

"There is force in the universe which, if we permit it, will flow through us and produce miraculous results." -Mahatma Gandhi

If you aren't sharing this weekend with a lover, do not worry. You are perfect. You are whole, beautiful and full of capacity. Go outside. Smile at someone. The life you may save in doing this is the greatest love you could ever share.

With every wish for your happiness, for your joy in the simple things and with love to each of you.

Gillian Cornwall, February 12, 2017

Original post, c. February 14, 2016

The Golden Heart - Mystic Vale

Gillian Cornwall, c. February 2016

Resource Material: 

The First 16 Secrets of Chi

The Laws of Thermodynamics

The Four Agreements

Surrender

"Is this the snowflake that attacked you?"

I surrender. I'm getting out of the sandbox. I don't want to play nice. There is no way you are getting me out of my pyjamas today and, yes, I might choose to have candy for supper. 

I can definitely put the "I give in" stamp of authenticity on this day. 

I knew when I cut myself on my own pyjamas this morning that it was time to raise the white flag. Seriously? Who cuts themselves on their own pyjamas?! 

Me, that's who, so I give in for today. Unto itself, while absurd, an attack from ones own pyjama bottoms might not be enough to shut down a day, but when it is on top of an extremely stressful time that is chock-a-block with a massive dental bill that will sink me into an even deeper financial quagmire of insurmountable debt, impending unemployment, rent going up next month, no money to pay for PTSD counselling and a finished book that I have no idea how to publish, I'm feeling a little down in the dumps right now, so I say:

"Thanks for knocking the stuffing out of me, life. The snowflake bling attack by my own pyjama bottoms was the last straw! I am going undercover for the day to try to find a way forward without losing my mind." 

Yep, it was the offending snowflake captured in the mugshot above. Pyjama bling pushed me over the edge. Hand bleeding, cleaned and bandaged, I sit down to write this - not because I want you to feel sorry for me (...feel free to do so if you want, or just roll a bottle of wine into the room and leave quietly), but because I know that we all have days like this. 

We cope, we cope and we cope some more. We exercise our stiff upper lips until we could use them as shelving; however, sometimes, you just gotta give in to the chaos and do whatever it will take to get you through the moment. 

And giving in is different than giving up. I don't want to end it all. I actually want it to be better, easier, kinder and more gentle. I don't want to look at my pyjamas as a potential threat to my personal security - that kinda takes the pleasure out of pyjama day - but I do have the capacity to adjust my angle to the shit storm swirling around me. ....so I cut the offending snowflake off my jammies. It's a shame really - it totally added to the pretty winter ambiance of the garment ...but not worth the health risk. 

I love that snowflake. I hate that snowflake. I was so happy when I bought these pyjamas. I wore them when I was taken up island to the lovely cabin for my 55th birthday. I sat in them in front of the cozy wood-burning fireplace and felt so content and special. Who knew they were plotting and preparing to turn on me at any moment. I have to believe it was an accident. Life... full of the unexpected: joy and hardship and sorrow and ease.

The pyjamas are like certain other experiences in my life. They do not intend to harm or make me suffer and yet I do suffer. Am I choosing to suffer? Yes, the cut hurts from the offending snowflake. I am astounded by the depth of the puncture it was able to make in my normally resilient hide. Was it done with malice? Was it about me at all? Of course not. Even I am not off the beam so far that I believe that. It's likely that most of the other things that have tripped me up on my path of life were not done with an intent to leave me penniless, harmed or on the streets. Yet, that has happened before and could happen again.

S**t happens ...to all of us. Rich, poor, powerful, weak - no one is exempt. 

I sure hope I don't end up out of work and homeless. I've been there already when I was younger and it was awful. The prospect of it terrifies me. I'm too old and sore to sleep on the ground or to stay up all night so I can stay safe from attack and sleep during the day. 

I wish I could stay where I am currently working. I went into it knowing that probably wouldn't happen as I am just covering someone's leave. I love this job. I love the people with whom I work. It is the first time in my life I have felt safe enough to be myself and the first time I have felt valued for my work and not "othered" because of my identity. I am eternally grateful to my friends and colleagues for the experience and I know that I am doing a good job. They have told me so and I know because I feel valued and valuable for my skills and my work ethic. My identity doesn't come into play any further than being a good person, a kind person and a hard-working person so, of course I don't want to leave. 

Imagine feeling safe and valued for the first time in your life - feeling a part of something for the first time in your life and then potentially having to walk away from it. The prospect of it sucks. It's life. I'm grateful for the experience, hopeful that I may get to continue to have it some way and afraid of never feeling safe again if it ends. ...Not to mention, having to leave working with some of the best, most kind people I have ever known! I will carry them with me always. 

Even in writing this, I fear punishment for speaking any of the truth of my past experiences - many things we fear come from the reality of our histories; nonetheless, I suppose there comes a time when you just say what is going on for you. Without malice, without expectation for change, you just speak your truth because, like Oprah said, everyone just wants to be seen, heard and to know that what they said meant something to someone. 

Snowflake - I know you didn't mean to harm me. :-) It's all going to be okay - no matter what.

With love always,

Gillian Cornwall, c. February 5, 2017.

Dedicated to my work family. Thank you.

The pyjamas in happier times...

G Cornwall, c. December 16, 2016

The Rain Coast

 Rhododendron Spring - Victoria BC

Gillian Cornwall, c. 2007

I thought it might be nice to have a taste of Spring through this wee poem. Here, in Victoria, BC, the snow drops have popped up and buds are appearing on the trees. By February, the plum and cherry blossoms will begin their annual extravaganza of blossoms and sweet-scented confetti, twirling and dancing from the branches on the Spring breezes, to the grass and pavement below. I hope you enjoy the poem:

Every lick of colour

sopping springtime blooms

wet paint in every green

fills the canvas of my town

Splotching pinkest pinks

Camellia upon Camellia

the fair flower that leaps whole

to the grassy bed below

Rhododendrons grow as trees here

floral monsters in pastel

a million pink and purple tongues 

catching raindrops from the sky

Now I lay me down among you

on this verdant, spongy ground

raincoat and gumboot clad

wash me clean into this land

-Gillian Cornwall, January 29, 2016

Originally Posted, c. June 1, 2014

 Gore Nature Park 

Territory of the Lekwungen speaking people

Vancouver Island, BC

Gillian Cornwall, c. May 2015

Respect

Looking for Respect

Photo by Jodi McLean - c. 2014

It's rare as hen's teeth, is respect, particularly when it comes to the interactions between everyday folks. North Americans, in particular, seem to have this wacky idea that famous people deserve adoration and respect, simply because they are famous. 

Don't get me wrong, fame often takes skill in ones field and luck ...sometimes just luck. 

The thing I don't understand is that we won't respect our neighbour who gets up at 5 every morning to go serve breakfast to the homeless then goes to Wild Arc to look after injured wildlife because he smells funny or doesn't have nice clothes or isn't privileged enough to have a post secondary education but we will idolize someone who has a nice voice and a team of people to help them sell a million copies of a song they didn't necessarily write or an actor who moved us in a particular role he or she played. I'm not saying these folks might not deserve respect, but why are we lifting them higher than everyone else?

What the blazes is wrong with us, people? How does a hateful person end up leading a country? There are many other than the "T word" (wont even say his name) around the world who have been horrific leaders over the centuries and generations. 

Why do we not lift one another up rather than tear one another down in fear?

What is it in us that makes us believe that folks are supposed to look and dress a certain way in order to be considered good people or people deserving of our attention, kindness and respect?

If my Grandma were alive, she would be appalled. She came up through life with little. She sat ram rod straight in her chair with pride - and respect for goodness - all the days of her life. At ninety-something she chased a thief from her flat. She was treated poorly as a wife and was a strong and loving mother. She worried for her grandchildren and was proud as heck of each of us. She had disdain for abusive men and refused to fall despite the hurts. 

We need to respect more grandmas. We definitely need to lift up women, the givers of life, and honour them for their abilities and strength, regardless of false fame or lack thereof.

Get a grip people. Don't be led by shiny things; they won't necessarily make you rich. 

Love your mother. Love your mother earth. Respect the givers of life.

Peace.

-Gillian Cornwall, c. January 22, 2017

Oak Bay, Vancouver Island

Gillian Cornwall, c. 2014

Fuel the Positive

Fernwood Car

Gillian Cornwall, c. 2014

Let us, for a moment, imagine that we will take the full force of human insecurity to fuel positive acts toward others instead of placing the energy behind our insecurities into tearing down those around us - as many of us have done at some time in our lives.

Unable to raise ourselves up through positive thought and action, we raze rather than raise the folks with whom we are surrounded. This is neither an effective nor sustainable practice.

Why, if it serves no purpose, do we debase ourselves or others? This is not the same as self-effacement. It is not an act of humility. The motivators behind our behaviours are extensive: cultural, familial, gender-based, perhaps simply because we are accustomed to doing it. It may be the result of a history of abuse, war or trauma. 

Today I offer a challenge: Focus on something good within you, something positive and life-affirming. Find a way to share that light in you with another and give it in a way that raises and lights the path of a friend or a stranger. Do it simply because you can. 

Believe in yourself. Believe in another. Watch the ripples of self-love and love of another flow out endlessly. This is our power to live and share and make a positive impact.

Live well. Live with intention.

Gillian Cornwall, January 15, 2017.

Original Post, c. July 27, 2014.

Princess

Gillian Cornwall, July 2014

The Authentic Self

Self Portrait on the train to Somerset

Gillian Cornwall, c. September 2015

The Authentic Self recognizes the face in the mirror. One tries to stare back at that image with kindness, acceptance, celebration and love. 

Why is that so difficult for us - to say to ourselves, as we wish others to say to us:

• "I see you
• I hear you and
• what you say means something to me"?

Where and when does the struggle begin? As children, many of us try to live up to our heroes - be they our parents, siblings, friends or teachers. Even as youngsters, we are taught to externalize our responsibility to ourselves onto the behaviour and ways of others. "You told me to do it!" "They made me!"

We are told there is a moral compass. We are shown what it looks like and how our behaviour relates to it and, yes, to some extent, that needs to happen. All animals learn survival skills from their packs - how to hunt through play, how to watch and how to work with others. Sometimes, we are shown how to lead. 

If everything goes well, we become adults. Then what? Most of us set our own priorities and make decisions about how we will choose to live based on our experiences of the moral compass we have known as children... OR, we entirely oppose it because we see our parents (or packs) were messed up and struggling and had no way to guide us well... OR some combination thereof (the last is probably the most likely and most common). We are all muddling through and there is no rule book that includes or fits everyone. Every single person's experience, every self, is unique.

Back to the mirror. Who do we see? Do we recognize ourselves in what is reflected back at us? If not, then what? 

I think I am describing a fairly common experience for all individuals. We all struggle with self-identity in our lives at some point and often this struggle is dependent on others opinions of what they see us to be and the box into which they are shoving us - as we kick, scream and rail against it - feeling misunderstood and powerless. If we protest, we are generally ostracized further for not "getting along with others" and simply accepting the way things are. To not fit others notions of ourselves is an affront to our communities - be they work, social or familial. 

"Why can't you just get along? Why do you have to be so contrary?"

Ah, there is the rub! The authentic self struggles against the tide of perception, the tide of ordered thought and labels. There remains no room to grow, think, change or become in the ruled and ordered society. There remains a compass on how we must look, behave, speak and feel. There is value set on people based on their fiscal worth rather than their ability to reinvent themselves,to allow themselves to grow and become daily. 

"Sit." 

"Stay."

"Lie down."

These commands are not a recipe for the authentic self. Religious precepts of what is good and right and what is bad and wrong dictate our acceptability and worth and take away our accountability by telling us we are less than and fallible - and fallible is bad because there does exist perfection in an unattainable being. ...So how do we learn? How do we err? How do we learn gentleness and forgiveness if the authentic self is not given space to fall, to accept the fall, to heal and to integrate that experience into personal growth? How is it that we are not perfect for simply walking our paths as best we can and taking responsibility for ourselves and our actions?

The authentic self is amorphous. I wish for my authentic self to have a core of kindness, acceptance and the desire to lift up others and say, in all honesty, "I see you. I hear you. What you say means something to me." 

I try to do this. I succeed at it daily and I fail at it daily. I am growing, changing, falling and getting up again. I am learning strength and a wealth of ability to say no to the labels. I reject unkindness and try very hard to forgive it - in myself and others. 

The authentic self I want to see in the mirror strives to understand that the picture is always changing. I am no Dorian Gray. I embrace the change and mourn the loss of youth while celebrating the blessings of aging - for not aging is a far worse alternative as it means an end of days to this great blessing of life - the heavenly gift of each breath and the chance to learn, love and embrace the miracle of change and growth. 

My authentic self is immeasurable, connected to all and a conduit for the universal flow of energy. It IS the universal flow of energy. We ARE the universal flow of energy. The authentic self is unique and the same as all else. We are an embodiment of the cheer of the Three Musketeers: All for One and One for All. 

Praise yourself. Be accountable for your actions. Do not look to the gods for forgiveness nor hope and do not judge others on their unique paths. Realize that right here and right now, it (you) is all on you. You always have choice - perhaps not always in the experience, but at least in your response to it. Lead. Follow. Right. Left. It is all up to you. 

In all truth, I write this for myself - perhaps to hold myself accountable. To remember my perceived failings and re-frame them into lessons. I write it to share my thoughts, in the hope that it may spark thought elsewhere and may lead to connection with others as we walk our unique paths on our journey to self-love and love for others. 

Gillian Cornwall, revised and re-posted, January 8, 2017

Originally posted c. January 31, 2016

After the bloom, the beauty remains

Gillian Cornwall, c. September, 2015

Time To Breathe

A moment in Lady Chapel at Glastonbury Abby, completed in 1186 or 1187

Video and voice by Gillian Cornwall, c. 2015

I don't feel any damn different than yesterday, you know, 2016 - that random number of years made up since blah,blah, blah and the random number of hours in a day, blah, blah, blah. 

You see, the thing is, it's just one more way that we have built time and opportunity to judge and compare one external thing against another. I think I would just as soon not know how old I was, not have years to hold up next to the previous or the one coming - all these things that keep me out of the now and remind me that in 3 months I don't have a job anymore or that I am still held hostage by PTSD or that it is likely that more of my path lies behind me in this life than ahead. You see, it's all going to unfold no matter how we mark it. Every day, even the hardest ones, I remember that I am on the right side of the grass. There is opportunity for positive energy to occur - whether it is something that brings me benefit or benefit to another. On my worst day, just maybe there is a small act of service I can perform for another that will shift the universal energy to the positive - something to cause a ripple or a refraction of light and love that will bounce its way around the globe. Maybe that is always enough.

I do not enjoy New Year's Eve. I don't enjoy all the drunk amateur revellers who use it as an excuse to get pissed up and have a good cry, a good punch up or a good yell outside my home at 3 a.m.. I would like to be more compassionate about this sort of thing since I've been that person in my younger days but it just irritates me because it seems like such a waste and they are all going to feel like hell today. 

Frankly, today it all just seems absurd to me. Imagine life without a calendar, a life without running ourselves up against everything and everyone else everyday. Whenever I have had the privilege and luxury to step out of my workaday life and go away knowing I had a job to come back to, like my trips to the UK and Hawaii that lasted a full month (yet another measure of time), I managed to leave time behind and be present in each moment. It is astounding how long time seems when I do this. Days and nights stretch on because they are not being held responsible. I am able to be where I am, doing what I am doing, without the stricture of routine and measurement. 

All I find I want as we head into this "new year" is more of this whole "time" thingy. I want to stop without worrying that I will end up homeless in 3 months. I want to write more so I can be really good at it, as best as I can get. I want to draw way more pictures. there are so many more stories and pictures inside me. It's kind of tragic being an artist because you don't get paid much to be that - society does not value it as a necessity and will not pay for it. So, I work at a job so I can pay the bills and use the time I do have available to me to draw and write and try to maintain any friendships that I haven't already lost through being kind of broken. If I can get my novel published and I win the novel lottery in JK Rowlings fashion, I may be able to retire from the regular workforce and draw and write to my heart's content. I can't bank on that though so I will finish the novel because I want to, because it is worth it to me and it is something I can create regardless of how good or crap it may be. 

Let it be said though, that I am making the most of it all regardless of my fortunes. I write to you every week, dear readers, I draw (a great deal more that most) and I still have work, a home, food and friends and no-one is dropping bombs on me. I have it way better than 90 percent of the global population.

I have been radically changed by this onset of PTSD, post lay-off. I function just fine out in the world but it's taken a great deal away from me - sleep, relationship, physical strength, the list goes on, BUT, I am still here and grateful for the "time" and opportunity to create beauty. 

I wish the same opportunity for you - the chance to be, with all the basics covered: food, personal safety, shelter, people to care about and who care about you and, finally, chances to discover and learn and grow. 

It's a new breath. Celebrate that and enjoy it. The next one will likely come no matter what you do so let's all try to stop worrying about it and just be, together. 

However you choose to mark the passage of life, I wish you a journey with love and light. 

-Gillian Cornwall, c. January 1, 2017 (so they tell me..)

Overlooking London from Hampstead Heath

Gillian Cornwall, c. October 2015

Women Power at Christmas

 Evergreens stretching to the light

Parksville, BC

Gillian Cornwall, c. December 2016

Last night I dreamt about someone I used to be with back when I lived in Toronto and Ottawa, Ontario, Canada in the 1980s. That was my longest relationship - probably because we understood the madness we both carried and transported from us and within us as artists in a world that loves money above all else.

In my dream, we were together again only I was me now - 55, menopausal and changed by the PTSD that triggered through the events of this past year; the PTSD that originated from assaults and abuse and for which I've spent thousands in recovery and I have recovered, except that I am muted now, muted in ways that I won't discuss here, but ways that are permanent and have changed the way I go through my life. Maybe one day I'll go into it more - just not here and not now.

So, in this dream I am me now but my girlfriend starts the dream at the same age as when we were together in our late 20s and she gets younger and more healthy as the dream progresses and I age and become more debilitated on the other side - Very strange and kind of Dorian Grey with a twist...

It set me to wondering how that woman from my dream is now. I think she would be around 60 and I have just turned 55. I wonder if she is happy and if she ever thinks of me. I hope she is happy. I think of all the lives I've weaved in and out of and how hard it has been for me to be the kind of partner I have wanted to be because of the crimes that were perpetrated against me and the impact they have had. I think of the women I have loved and how I hope I did not harm them through contact despite having spent decades and tens of thousands on regaining my well-being.

It's Christmas morning and all I can think that any child, any woman, needs more than anything, for Christmas and everyday of her life, is to be safe and powerful, to have her body as her own and to always have the choice to share it on her own terms.

To all the perpetrators of sexual violence, mine and others, stop hurting people. You are sick and violent criminals and you need to stop. To all the people who wield physical, cultural, financial and social power against women, stop. You are damaging the world, the life force and yourselves.

To the people who turn away in feigned ignorance, believing it's best to silently ignore it, stop it. Stand up and say no to sexual violence. We must use all of the positive ways we can to stand together in loving kindness and give with good hearts in ways that feed the mother force of the world.

To that woman back across time that I dreamt of last night, how I hope you are well and happy. How I hope you are well-loved and cared for. How I have this wish for everyone I love and have loved.

On this Christmas morning, my gift to myself and all of you is that I remember and cherish the good and continue to lay down the burden of the hurt put upon me.

To those who have been hurt, I send you love. Please know you are valued and essential to the well-being of the mother force that feeds this world with love and life.

To those who have hurt me: I'm still here. I'm still standing. I am still feeding the world with the mother force of life. I am a woman, worthy of respect and love and you will never destroy what remains of me - a core of pure love fed by the great mother and creator of life.

Light, love, peace, space, time and resource to grow strong - this is my wish to each of you.

Happy holidays.

Gillian Cornwall December 25, 2016.

Dedicated to EM

Crisp, white snow - Over the 'hat - Vancouver Island

Gillian Cornwall, c. December 2016

Comfort and Joy

Christmas Time

Gillian Cornwall, c. December 2010

Christmas time, I lay under the tree staring up through the boughs and inhaling the fresh, outdoor scent of the scotch pine, my eyes blurring with the mystery in the strings of painted bulbs of blue and orange and green and red. The delicate, sparkling, colourful ornaments of an impossibly thin glass dangled precariously from the ends of the branches and the stretch of golden garland was carefully wound around the circumference of the tree from the angel atop to the bottom boughs. The whole process was completed by my brothers and me, as strings of silver, tinsel icicles were artfully tossed on select branches. We tried to keep these out of reach of Sarah, our Siamese cat, lest she ingest them in some sort of untimely, seasonal attempt at her own demise. Occasionally, we found evidence of her tinsel snacking in sparkling litter box parcels. 

Back under the tree, I lay pyjama-clad and lost in the magic of the season - small enough that this tree land was a fort unto itself. For a day, perhaps even more, there would be peace and I would be lost in a world where kindness prevailed amid the songs of the season played on our Zenith High Fidelity Stereo System. This was a world of reindeer and Santa Claus, surrounded by mysterious packages wrapped in paper depicting dreamworlds of sleighs and horses, snowmen and silver bells, snowflakes and stockings spilling over with treats. 

May it always be a time to rest, to spend in loving kindness with those for whom we are grateful and may the scent of a fresh forest or a string of sparkling lights always be enough to bring you comfort and joy. 

With gratitude to each of you, for your love, your kindness, and your willingness to get up every day and do your best through good times and bad. You are loved and I am blessed for all the wonder you share - simply through your desire to live with love and kindness. Plant yourself in healthy, clean soil and grow with strong, solid roots; reach for the sky and the light with every sunrise.

May every one of you share comfort and joy this season and every wish for a happy and healthy new year. 

-Gillian Cornwall, Re-posted on December 18, 2016

Original Post, c. December 22, 2013