Then - and now........

(…) let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your heart (Kahlil Gibran)

My first love, at age 16, was secret, forbidden, unrequited and, in the end, utterly heartbreaking. It was such a desperate, hopeless, lonely, all-consuming experience. I thought I was in uncharted territory. I did not know, at the time, that many of my sisters had ventured down this road before me. My ignorance of this history made me believe that I was totally alone. I did not know who my heroines were. I had no guides, no role models, no one to learn from. Flashing back on that early experience, I find the pain still fresh and I find myself wanting to weep

Being in love, at age 66, is a totally different affair (literally and figuratively)! First of all, there is no “falling in love” this time around. I have walked into this relationship with the acquired wisdom of my last 50 years, eyes wide open, knowing and anticipating the promise, the challenges and the pitfalls, the joy and the pain, the give and the take, that are all part of it. I have learned long ago that I cannot look to someone else to make me feel whole and complete - I am and will continue to be 100% responsible for my own physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being. The beginning of this new relationship actually came as a surprise to me. I have been feeling happy and at peace within myself, and have been enjoying the friendship of many women. At first I was uncertain whether I even wanted to open myself up to a “significant other” at age 66. In the end, I have decided to go with it, and now I find this new person in my life does bring me additional joy. And it is a cause for celebration, at least within my community of lesbian sisters, and hopefully among my heterosexual friends and family members as well.

Twenty Blessings

Spring comes earlier here in Victoria than it did in Prince George or Lillooet. There are new buds and shoots and even flowers starting to show up everywhere. The excitement of new growth and the promise of a glorious new season are in the air. I have run across a poem that says it all. The beautiful words somehow soften, at least in the moment, the serious threat of global warming. So here's to our mother, Nature, and to all of you whom I love: "Twenty Blessings"

May Venus shine through your window.
May cats wind themselves around your legs.
May you hear bitterns boom in the reeds.
May your friends write you letters.
May you walk through waves on the shore.
May dogs roll their eyes at you.
May the Moon's magic re-create you.
May you sit with stones at your back.
May butterflies fly in your garden.
May you hear the sound of geese at sunset.
May you always sing in harmony.
May foxgloves grow tall around you.
May grass grow short at your feet
May you heal the world with your touch.
May you remember the flight of the Golden Plover.
May you be filled with joy at sunrise.
May your crops be plentiful.
May you walk in the cool of the day.
May daisies decorate your room.
May all shadows be made by bright sunshine.
May silence give you peace.

(Sue Richards)

"Your children are not your children...."

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you. And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. (Kahlil Gibran)


Twenty-three years ago, when my partner and I decided to have a child, I knew my life would not/could not go on as before. Being gay parents, a quarter of a century ago, was more of a challenge, for both parents and children, than it is today in these somewhat more open and accepting times. There were many hard times when we were faced with homophobic reactions and behavior because of our lifestyle. At times we experienced fear and uncertainty as a result of our own internalized homophobia. Our son had these experiences as well.

Although I was not the biological parent of our son, loving and raising and caring for this child has made me a parent in all other senses of the word. I have learned so much from being a parent; my son has taught me so much about life, about love, about selflessness, about courage – lessons I might never have learned without him. It is my hope and expectation that he has learned such lessons from me as well.

I am also learning that parenthood does not stop once s child becomes an adult. It was a heartbreaking time for both of us when I left Prince George. I had to recognize that my son was now an adult and it was time for us to go our separate ways. He had his own life ahead of him and I had the rest of my life ahead of me. But the bond remains as strong as ever.

Today, I received a card from my son that touched my very soul. When I saw how he was able to think and feel and express love and tenderness and gratitude, I knew that we, his parents, had raised a beautiful soul. He wrote:


Thank you.
Thank you for being there when I was sad.
Thank you for raising me who I am.
Thank you for teaching me.
Thank you for trusting me.
Thank you for everything you bought, gave and fed me.
Thank you for respecting me and my space.
Thank you for empowering me.
But most of all thank you for loving me.
It always makes me smile when you call and leave a sweet message.
And, although I don’t return them right away,
Know that I love you very much and think about you always.
Love. Your son.

I had a dream....

“The Chinese philosopher awakened with a start, for he had been dreaming that he was a butterfly. And for the rest of his days, he did not know whether he was a Chinese philosopher who had dreamed he was a butterfly, or a butterfly who was now dreaming that he was a Chinese philosopher.” (Chuang-Tze)

I am one of those people who has vivid dreams almost every night. I adhere to the Jungian philosophy regarding dreams, i.e. that they arise from our subconscious or unconscious mind, that they are revealing of our inner thoughts and processes, and that they can be interpreted in ways that will benefit us in our daily lives.

My most significant dreams are the recurring ones, along four different themes. In my “claustrophobia dream”, I find myself physically trapped in a narrow, lightless, airless space from which I struggle desperately and futilely to escape. In my “convent dream”, I relive the angst I went through when I was in the process of abandoning the convent and religious life to which I had committed myself. In my “bear dream”, I experience the terror of being chased or hunted by a bear. I find my very life to be in danger and yet there is no means of escape. All three of these recurring dreams have a nightmarish quality, which haunts me for several days after the dream. Yet, they compel me to recognize and acknowledge some unresolved issue in my life, and to take some concrete steps towards dealing with the issue in question.

In my fourth recurring dream, I am able to levitate, and even fly, at will. In the dream, I experience freedom from gravity and have the ability to transport myself through the air with feelings of incredible lightness and swiftness. In some of the dreams, I attempt to keep my amazing ability a secret, and I must be very careful not to trip, stumble, burp, fart, hiccup or sneeze, as any of these actions can cause me to leave the ground and reveal my secret to others. This dream leaves me with a wonderful feeling of peace and serenity, even bliss, which I can hold on to and savor for several days after the dream. This recurring dream literally “brings me to my senses”, inspiring me with the “courage to be” and to live fully and joyfully in the present moment.

Tempus fugit

Well, here it is, the first day of 2007. Yes, tempus fugit. Time flies! But where does it go?


Many years ago, I read a book called Momo by Michael Ende. It was a story built around the fantasy that time could be saved - just like money. I would love to find and reread this book, now long out of print. I think the story is a powerful and provocative statement about what life is really all about.

We humans have the compulsion to live almost exclusively through memory and anticipation, creating within ourselves an endless preoccupation with the past and the future: the past which gives us our identity and the future which holds the promise of some form of fulfillment. With this focus, we live in a perpetual state of discontent and unease.

We often talk about “saving time”. We have an obsessive need to “arrive”, to “get there”, to “make it” We speed up, increase efficiency, take shortcuts, multi-task, etc. all in an effort to “save time” so as to be able to enjoy life at some point in the future. And in so doing we lose something very precious. Time is life itself and the more we strive to “save time” the less we experience the present moment. The more “clock time” we save, the less “psychological time” we have to spare.

An hour can seem like eternity or it can pass in a flash, but the reality is that I can no more prolong a moment of delight or speed up an unpleasant or painful event than I can hold a sunray or a moonbeam in my hand.

The concept of time (past, future) is illusory. There is no time machine that allows us to go back and undo the past or go ahead to pre-arrange the future. Life only happens now. It does not happen in the past or in the future. Life is now. In the final analysis, all there is to life is here, now, in this present fleeting moment.

This perspective of time leaves me with a feeling of timelessness, of serenity. More and more I focus on living right now. No matter what, I know I can be happy, I can cope, I have all I ever need or want - right here, right NOW.

OUT words

“The hushing up of who we have been leaves us no history of ourselves as a people. We don’t know who our heroines were, who of us rebelled in spectacular ways, who lived in long fruitful relationships. We have no role models to point to, no one to learn from. Being without a history makes each of us believe that she is alone, that the terrain of lesbianism is new uncharted territory which she must learn to navigate on her own by herself.”

These words were written by Colette Reid in 1976. She was speaking to and about those of us who grew up in the 40s, 50s, 60s, and 70s. (Younger lesbian women have had an easier time of it, in today’s world where the gay lifestyle is more generally recognized.)

In my early years, I did find myself “travelling through uncharted territory” and I did feel totally alone. My first act as a lesbian at age 12 was a defining moment that set the course for the rest of my life. At about that same time I realized that I could not and would not follow the path of marriage and motherhood as all the females around me were doing. I shunned all the trappings of femininity and, consequently, as a young teenager I was a recluse and an outcast among my peers and a cause of consternation for my mother, my older sister, my aunts, and other women.

Then I read about nuns who lived in religious communities. I saw them as asexual beings who had managed to escape the lot of most women and who had a sure ticket to heaven. At age 15, I entered the convent and became a nun. I naively believed I was entering a “community of women” where I could, at last, be free to be myself. Little did I know at the time, that I was entering the very heart of patriarchy where women were totally subservient to men, and where love among women, other than as “sisters in Christ”, was taboo. For me, life in the convent was soul-destroying; it literally drove me crazy.

I left the convent after 12 years. I spent the next several years going in and out of psychiatric wards and mental hospitals. I will spare you the details of my prolonged depression, self-mutilation, and suicide attempts and the prescribed treatment of the day: locked wards, electric shock treatment, aversive therapy, psychotropic drugs.

In the early 70s, I happened to come across a book about “women loving women”. At last I had a name for myself! I was a lesbian! There were others like me! It felt like coming home! I began to search for other women like myself. In 1980, I moved to Victoria which, even then, was known as a mecca for lesbians. It was amazing – they were all around me.

I spent the next 25 years living as an “out” lesbian in a heterosexual world. Many of my adventures during that time have yet to be told. Now I have come full circle. I am back in Victoria where I spend time in “the company of women”. Every Wednesday, here in Victoria, I meet with a group of women. We are, for the most part, veteran lesbians. We have been in the war zone and each of us has our battle scars and war stories.

“Yes, we do carry the scars and pain of old wounds, but we are visionaries who believe fiercely in the power of the spirit to heal and transform ourselves and the world”.

Lesbian Erotica

Enough of all that serious stuff! A poet I am not but I do write poetry once in a while. This following piece is meant to be read aloud. Have fun with it. Caveat emptor!

You fickle my tansy
You turl my coes
You make my tyes winkle
And so it goes!

You thruzzle my noat
You skick my lin
You make my thrody bemble
Again and again!

You nite my beck
You thoke my strighs
You make my tum bickle
Moans and sighs!

You liss my kips
You bruck my seasts
You make my tunt kingle
And that's the best!

You sind my fenter
You houch my tart
You make my houl sappy
Let's never part!

Surprised by Joy

During a long period of my life, I was crippled by feelings of despair and hopelessness. Life did not seem to be worth living. Happiness, for me, was both illusive and elusive, as I suffered through my long "dark night of the soul". At times I did find a certain fleeting pleasure and fulfillment in my acquisitions and achievements, but I was always searching for a deeper and lasting joy

In the past several years, I have been, to borrow a phrase from C.S. Lewis, "surprised by joy" arising from deep within myself. I realize now that, unknowingly, I was preparing for joy each time I spoke my truths, cared for myself, expanded my knowledge, nurtured my friendships, allowed others to love me, took on new adventures, and went where my heart led me.

For the most part I am now living in joy, and I anticipate each day with feelings of contentment, peace, serenity, and well-being. And there are those occasional peak moments full of bliss when I transcend myself and my spirit feels connected, however briefly, to the great spirit of the universe. Living in joy does not preclude pain and suffering. But it helps me believe that I can and will retain my strength and courage in the face of whatever adverse circumstances may come my way.

I believe that joy is a state of mind that can and must be cultivated and nurtured. Although at times it can come upon one spontaneously, there are attitudes and practices that are conducive to joy; it is important to live with an awareness of and openness to the possibility of joy. In concrete terms, this means: accepting who I am and what I have; letting go of guilt, regret, or nostalgia about the past as well as anxiety, dread, or longing about the future; coming to terms with my own mortality and the puzzle of my own existence; enhancing my physical health and well being through physical exercise and nourishing foods; protecting the environment in whatever small ways I can; appreciating my daily experiences, encounters, surroundings; doing,literally, "random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty".