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".

Hello from Victoria

My sister, Gladys, shortly before her passing, gave me a cheque to buy myself a birthday gift. Her suggestion was: "Buy a tree and plant some roots." She was concerned about me because, in the previous several years, I had moved from job to job and place to place. I think she would have been happy that, a few months later, I landed a job in Prince George, where I stayed for 25 years. I retired in January 2004, and in December 2004 I moved to Lillooet, B.C. After 15 months in Lillooet, I knew that I wanted something more than this isolated community had to offer, but had no idea where to go from there. Moreover, I did not think I had the resources, emotional or financial, for yet another move. Then I went on a trip to Costa Rica. There were many aspects of life in Costa Rica that appealed to me, and I thought that might be a good place for me to live. So I sold most of my belongings, packed up, and headed off to Costa Rica.

In Costa Rica, I met some memorable people, spent some precious time with my nephew, Colin, experienced some unforgettable adventures, wandered the amazing beaches. But I did not stay for very long. In the end, after considerable thought and anguish, I came to accept that one needs to be tough-skinned (literally) to live in Costa Rica and that life there, for me, would require more than I was prepard to give at this point in my life. My two greatest challenges were the relentlessly itchy insect bites, and the high heat and humidity. I had some concerns about my personal safety, and I was terrified the first night I spent on my own in my jungle house with “all the things that go bump in the night”. It did not take me long to realize how much I appreciated my creature comforts and the quality of life I enjoyed in Canada, and so I made my way back home.

I realize now that my decison to move to Costa Rica was, typically for me, impulsive and dramatic. Yet I have no regrets. It is part of my process. It gave me the time and distance to re-evaluate many aspects of my life. It helped me loosen the emotional and financial ties that kept me in Lillooet. I came back to Canada with a new plan to move to Victoria. I had planned to live in Victoria where I spent 12 months 25 years ago. I never did find a job there, but I was with my sister during the last year of her life and, for that, I am forever thankful.

Through my Costa Rica experience, I have come to realize, more fully than ever before, just how many people love and care for me, each in their own nonjudgmental way. I am so grateful to all of these loved ones: my nephew Colin, my son Jeremy, my sister Elaine, my nieces Laverne and Colleen, my friends Ethel, Fran, Deb, Book, and Linda.

So here I am starting anew in Victoria. Stay tuned for more excerpts from the diary of a fool.

Excerpts from the Diary of a Fool

As you may have noticed, I have changed the name of my blog. Many years ago, I had decided that if/when I wrote my autobiography or memoirs, I would entitle it Excerpts from the Diary of a Fool. At this point, I am not likely to write either, so this blog may be the best opportunity to play around with that title.

The archetype of the Fool has always appealed to m ever since I first encountered this character in Shakespeare's and the Tarot. The Fool enbodies both innocence (even naivete) and wisdom. Life has not always been easy for the Fool. She is a misfit because she follows a different path ("the road less travelled") and "marches to the beat of a different drum". These propensities have often left the Fool feeling alone, separate, isolated, distant, rootless, and driven to craziness. She is a will-of-the-wisp, akin to the wayward wind and the tumbling tumbleweed. She makes life-altering decisions which appear to be whimsical, ill-advised, impulsive, counter-intuitive. She wanders the highways and byways of life with seeming insouciance and carelessness. Somehow she survives the pitfalls, stumbles, and somersaults into which her foolhardiness often leads her, and manages to land on her feet. She is an iconoclast. She travels along, questioning answers, upsetting cliches, exploring forbidden territory, challenging taboos. She sees that the Emperor has no clothes on and voices this unpopular observation to the unwilling crowd. In her later years, she becomes almost predictable in her unpredictability, acquires some degree of wisdom and is even surprised by joy.

This is the image of self that I have tried, paradoxically, for most of my life, to both live up to and distance myself from. At this point in time, I have come to some degree of acceptance. I now understand that there are many roads but only one journey. Upon entering the stream of life, each one of us has the responsibility to create meaning in our own life, to solve the riddle of our existence, to attain a certain level of awareness, to give our own unique gift to the world. It is then time to surrender our individual spirit once again to the great spirit, the universal energy that sustains the universe.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

"It takes a fierce devotion to grow old well. It takes a fierce devotion to the word goodbye - learning how to say it in many ways - fiercely, yes, but also gently, with laughter, with tears, but, no matter how, to say it every time so that there's no doubt you mean it. When you're pushing 60, the rest of your life is about saying goodbye. Your greatest work may yet be demanded of you (though odds are against that). You may find more true love, meet new good friends, and there's always beauty (if you have an eye for it), and fun (if you have the spirit) - still, no matter what, slowly, you must say goodbye, a little bit every day to everything." (Michael Ventura, Across the Great Divide)

Today is Friday. I leave for Costa Rica next Tuesday. When I made my first trip to Costa Rica in early April, the goodbyes were easy enough - I would be back in a couple of weeks and my day-to-day life and connections would go on as before. There is something much more poignant and lonely in the goodbyes I am saying now. I am saying goodbye to some people knowing that our ties are too tenuous to survive the challenges of distance and time . I am saying goodbye to others, family and friends, feeling assured that our deeper connection will be enduring. But it is goodbye none the less.

I cannot say how deeply I was touched by the timely visits of my friend, Ethel, and my sister, Elaine, who came to see me in order to say goodbye. My niece Colleen's phone call was so appreciated. My telephone chat with my niece, Laverne, was also a treat. My friends, Deb and Book, have supported me by taking care of my little dog, Zoe. My Prince George friends, Jay, Lana and Jeanettte, Marie and Phil, and my brothers Roy, Doug, and Allen have sent e-mails to wish me well. My friend and housemate, Fran, has encouraged and supported my decision, and has patiently endured the inevitable disarray caused by my move. She has also offered to drive me to the airport. I am so looking forward to seeing my son, Jeremy, in San Jose, as I make my way to Puerto Viejo and he returns to Canada. It is reassuring that my nephew, Colin, and his partner, Roberto, and a few new acquaintances are awaiting my arrival in Puerto Viejo.

I am very aware that I am 65 years old, and that most women my age are settling in where they're at, not uprooting themselves to move to a faraway developing country in search of that elusive and, perhaps, illusive new chapter in the books of their lives.

The choices I have made throughout my life have always seemed to be for "the road less taken". I have had some very unique experiences that have brought me untold joys and insights and pain, but at the cost of more homely experiences which give one roots and ties. Still, no regrets. I have found my self, as well as a few kindred spirits, somewhere along the lonely path that I have taken.

But enough of this reflection. I promise that my future posts will have lots of inforrmative and interesting details about the sights and scenes and people of Costa Rica.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

After a While

After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
and company doesn’t always mean security.

And you begin to learn
that kisses aren’t contracts
and presents aren’t promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman
not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting
for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure,
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth
and you learn and you learn

With every goodbye you learn.

(by Veronica Shoffstall)

Fore words on Moving Forward

By now, you have all heard about my plan to go to Costa Rica for an undetermined amount of time. Thank you for your support of my decision and your best wishes for my journey.

Coinciding with the physical journey, it seems to me that I am experiencing an inner journey in which I am exploring and evaluating my values, my beliefs, my attitudes towards my own aging and mortality, my philosophy of life, my connections.

I am leaving behind an established home and most of my possessions. This process has taken a considerable amount of thought, time, energy and organization. It has also given me the opportunity to reconsider what is important to me. In so doing, I have realized that physical, tangible possessions do give me a sense of security and groundedness, and letting go of these possessions has, on the one hand, left me feeling rootless and roofless, On the other hand, this dispossession has released me, so that I can make my journeys with a sense of inner peace and freedom.

I have also come to realize the ultimate importance of family and friends. We have agreed to keep in touch, and I am assured that those of us who have met, touched and shared on a deeper level will never be that far apart, thanks to modern technology and to a spiritual connection that time and space will not diminish.

Since I was a child, I have written about the significant events in my life journey, recording the insights I have gleaned through my own experience of living or from the words of wise people who have been willing to share with others what they have learned about life. But, for the most part, my writing has been for me alone. I have always felt quite inhibited about allowing others to read about my thoughts and experiences, doubting the quality of my expression, the depth and meaningfulness of my experiences, and the reactions of others to my revelations. At this point in time, sharing my writing has become imperative. Goodbye to my inhibition. Hello to my blog.

Thus, this blog will have two purposes. First, it will serve as a medium for interacting with the important people in my life and sharing some of the more significant people, places and events I will experience during my time in Costa Rica. Second, and equally important, it will be a means of satisfying my own need to document the milestones and pivotal moments of my inner journey in a readable and durable format. My writing and pics will be interspersed with notable quotes and words of wisdoms from other people who have documented their own journeys.

I welcome your comments, queries, and reflections in return.


“A wise man once said nothing.” (Words on a billboard)

“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one you in all of time, this expression is unique, and if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channels open…. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open…. No artist is pleased…. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time…. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive. Whether you choose to take an art class, keep a journal, record your dreams, dance your story or give each day from your own creative source, above all else, keep the channel open.” (Martha Graham to her student Agnes de Mille recorded in de Milles’ memoir, Dance to the Piper)

“If one never followed the call of the spirit or ventured into new worlds, how tiresome a place this would be. It is in the nature of the human to move on, to experiment, to look at the horizon, and wonder what lies beyond it.” (Barbara Wood. Green City in the Sun)