A Different Me

Culture, a way of being. It seems so settled, till we meet another living differently! My way seems so secure. “Of course, it all makes sense!” Until another – sees another me. How can that be! Who am I?  The one I knew or the one they see? It’s not a fight, it’s  just a change -both/and not either/or. So I live, alive and well, still learning more of what I will. I grow in light and see you there – a different me!

Culture, a way to see, a way to speak. It frames my thoughts and tunes my ties. It is and so am I! I live with you and we agree, to walk beside and dance with tunes. My feet are free- never stepping on your toes! Then somehow you appear beside, wildly suggesting a new dance tune. The dance is strange – so I must change! My habits deep, now disagree, this cannot be the way to dance with me! And yet I sense the joy!

Dancing with you, changes me! I’m alive to see my feet once more. They awkward feel and yet they seem – alive again! Soon, I am learning to be me, alive with you – and different within me! I now am learning, more of me. I see the world through different eyes. My world has changed! It’s grander still. Life is to be lived – not boxed! So now I bless this day, that opened eyes, and gave me more. I rest with arms spread wide!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Day’s heat

Heat beats down, scorching earth below.

Who would believe that shadows bring such relief?

Sweat trickles slowly down my spine.

Hazy heat wraps me like a shroud.

 

Walking shifts the scene as time slows down.

Many choose to stroll, wiser to the pace of life.

Distance comes towards me through the humid haze.

Trees are such a breath of life to me these days.

 

People here seem quick to smile, eager eyes are seeking peace.

Hearts aren’t frigid, just seeking life, hoping still – in spite of strife.

Lazy conversations flow; laughter flows like sun warmed air.

Breezes stirring, so now must break, this stifling vice of oven heat.

 

Time is gentle, when you stop and see. Life is meeting you and me.

Day’s song builds and then it fades, as night caresses ocean’s breeze.

To adapt to all our phases, never running when its better walked.

Holding hands, slowly learning, dancing through this life we brave.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Transitions

Every time I move across a cultural divide, I am shocked by the adjustment I have to make. Since I am repeatedly traveling back and forth between Canada and Honduras, I would think I would get used to it! Yet, I still find it a surprising shift.

I find I am comfortable in both cultures. I just live with different priorities and perspectives in each one! When I settle into Latin America, I slow down. I open up my being – to people’s eyes and hearts. People are expressive and willing to meet me with open eyes. I must unlearn my more guarded instincts that come from the busyness of our first world approach to life. I leave behind the guarded expectation of distrust and find I must actually step out into the embrace of people who are more willing to smile, to acknowledge lack and need, to give a warm embrace and a kiss on the cheek.

Vulnerability is a tDSCN1906reasure that we have exploited in our western agenda driven world. Vulnerability is valued in a different way in other cultures. All people guard themselves – it is part of human instinct. We have all been injured – in fact, repeatedly through life. Latin culture with it’s focus on emotional expression, gives people a deeper instinctive set of tools to read and mesh with those who live transparently and offer safety to a wounded heart. This set of tools is a gift to those who learn to walk in vulnerability through a broken world. I have much to learn from this culture!
So i find myself shifting gears. I find my antenna tuned differently. I find my heart engaging in a different way with my spirit. A fresh breath reaches out to caress my soul. I quiet myself to a new round of learning.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

On becoming Heroes

As a society we are very aware of being manipulated and used by unseen forces. Our theatres  are full of powerful images reflecting our aspiration for  heroes. There is a longing for people who are larger than life rescuers, that stand out as almost invincible!!  We look for those who have the capacity to draw out the unseen and challenge those who twist our lives to their own ends.

I don’t think that it is unrealistic to say  that our times have moved the whole world into a place where we are crying out for heroes – “saviours” who will individually make a difference!  I see hurting people’s hunger for someone. Who think , “Please stand up and arise heroically.” I can look around myself with the thought – “I wonder if this is the one!?”  Many even, have already selected their heroes and are ready to clash to defend him or her!

Yet,I am also aware that if I do not walk with an awareness of the forces that act upon me, I quickly become the puppet of any entity which may choose to take action to manipulate me!

A true hero arises not for what they can get from others but for what they can give to others.

What is curious, is that even as we jointly aspire for a “hero”, we have also chosen to frame ourselves in terms of personal inadequacy! The hero is outside – “not me”! “I just don’t have what it takes!”

As I see my world coming apart, I am more and more aware of the need for someone to “step up”. We need someone to save us from ourselves and our self made cycles that destroy.

I really do believe that for each of us, in our unique world, the answer to the hero really is Me – myself!!

What is encouraging for me is that so many are stepping up to take action! The reality that unless I act, no change will come is becoming evident across all aspects of society. We are shifting! This is monumental! We are stepping out of apathy into action. I can not give my action away to another. I must become the hero!

I am gifted with more potential than I can ever conceive. I can choose. I can be courageous! I have the amazing capacity to love. I can willingly give myself away! I am a wonder in the making, if I can but lift my eyes and see my own astonishing capacity to affect my world. I can step into an unexpected anticipation.

Yet still in the recesses of my mind – even as I take action, I find a conflict with my own personal history of failed aspirations. I am so familiar with those!! Yet this is the voice of the past not my future!

For me, there is something moving in our times that stirs up my own awareness of a spiritual reality that calls me into greatness.

Spirit is not about dominance. Spirit is about connectedness, about relationship, about mercy and love. It is about freedom and transparency. None of these grow without the soil of humility.

When I am thirsty for life, when I am willing to leave no stone unturned until I find vitality and life, I seek. When I seek, I find. It is a journey, yet the answer is always very near – not far away. It always involves a personal encounter with a vital and contagious organic truth. This truth brings life, laughter, joy and peace.

It is in quietness that I find the hero I have been created to be! It is out of quietness and peace that I change my world. Let’s continue to step into this journey. It’s time!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Meeting dissonance

Sudden

explosion!

Firecracker’s late night bang.

Why am I not tickled?

Should I not be awake as well ?

 

Hospitality’s

delight,

extended to a gringo.

Humble hearts give grace

without regard to race or face.

 

Purple

flowers,

reaching past the wall.

It seems they’re framed by filth!

Barrier’s gift grants ease, protecting wealth.

 

Puppy

dog,

must be someone’s precious pet.

Up close, mangy/scrawny,

The poor man’s alarm technology!

 

Protective

sidewalks,

keep you safe from harm.

Unless you trip and sprawl,

into the open sewer’s maw!

 

Humid

air!

I’ve only started sweeping,

Yet it feels like hell,

and my back is already weeping!

 

Poverty’s

woman,

gifted with free land!

Surprise that rain delivers,

a pool that’s really someone’s sewer.

 

Sudden

rain,

Pounding on tin roofs.

The roar’s amazing!

Whose wagon train rumbled by on hoof?

 

Little

girl,

Selling water bags.

Vulnerable yet artful,

groped by many hands – she feels so dull.

 

Hours

sitting!

Old man staring emptily.

Waiting just to die

while souls rush by despairingly.

 

Softened

eyes,

Peering at me in hope.

All humanity’s cries,

Encapsulated in one sigh!

 

Day’s

end.

The sudden shift in sky.

Darkness comes on wing,

and now the frogs and crickets sing.

Author – Bill Tidsbury