If you are looking for the sum total of the wisdom of the universe in one concise phrase - here goes:

Love.
It's all about Love. Move from love, come from love, do everything from a space of loving and you'll never, EVER go wrong.

Oh and Listen to your heart. It's never wrong either.

Ta Da.

In Love,
in Joy
gayle

Remember to Play

What do you do when you are caught by yourself and don't have a clue what to do? When everyone you know is off playing and you have to be by yourself... When you don't know what to do? AND you are so tired of working you could just

... cry, scream, have a temper tantrum. (If you were 3.)

You sit back, and try to figure out what's wrong. When did being alone become hard? Was I four or fourteen? Or did it happen somewhere past forty? I don't remember. But somewhen I forgot how to play.


Oh I was really good at making sure that my children's play was sacred. We made mud pies, brownies, rollerskated. We blew bubbles and made sand castles. We rolled down the hill, rode trikes and bikes. We made up games like 'Pink" and "Pounce" (think rainbows from the crystals in the window and cat like behavior.)

We read stories, I told stories. We made villages in the basement from appliance boxes, and our driveway was always full of children.

And it was -20F with a half inch of ice on everything when we polished our downhill driveway with our butts so the point where you couldn't walk on it at all. (or get the car out... LOL


And then they grew up. And I forgot how to play. Everything I did had a purpose. Write a story. Paint a picture to match the furniture, and the walls. Create wreaths for the season - which ever season it was. Create, create, create... always for a purpose.

My kids know how to play. Because they somehow learned that play was sacred. And they remember.

But I forgot.
I have spent the last three years learning how to be idle again. And honestly I never knew it would be hard.

Make a home for myself, and my almost grown son. Work. Study. Keep busy so I don't have to be alone with the idea that I am afraid to play by myself.



A couple of weeks ago I got out the chalk and started drawing. And writing what amounts to pithy sayings on my local sidewalk. And I have learned to play again... Oh I've had my share of detractors that write nasty things with the chalk that I leave for others to use... The really nice thing about chalk - the nastiness can be erased with a little water and a cheap paint brush.

But there are people who have responded to my "Please draw... she asks quietly." There have been hearts, short love notes. Stars and moons. And a Rocket to the Moon...

This is a small corner of this big world... And here we will be kind to each other. We will speak softly, for Words Have Power, and they carry further than we can imagine.


For me - right now - the most loving thing I can do for myself - is learn how to play with the innocence of a child, eyes twinkling, dancing on tiptoe. It doesn't matter that I'm an author of a children's book (and two unpublished novels, an itty bitty self help book, and tons of short stories), or in graduate school... those are things I do during the day. It matters that I'm as good a mom as I can be, a caring friend, and a kind stranger. What I am is love. And my blog(s), my Twitter account, and my often neglected Facebook page reflect that.


The theme of all of these is... it has always been...

Live vividly, learn earnestly, laugh whole heartedly, and love with everything you've got.


We work hard, and this is good, but Remember to Play ~ it's good for your soul.

~Gayle~
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***Hugs***

Kivi and the Lizard People - by Gayle McCain, Author

What do I love?  What do I believe I am good at?

 Making a difference in lives…


Answering a zillion questions when you came to my office, school, store… helping you find what you needed, interpret the results you got, understand the market. My income was never dependent upon whether you attended my school, or bought the latest widget from us. My information was my gift to you. And 9 times out of 10 – you’d come back to wherever I was working to buy something, or use our service.   I understood the market. I understood what it took to get to what your dreams were.

I left the workforce to stay home and raise my two children.  I understand their tender hearts… what makes them feel loved, abandoned, angry, cherished. Those things don’t change even when your eldest has been admitted to graduate school and your youngest is old enough to drive. They all want to feel cherished.

As parents we would all rather spend quality time with our children.  I especially liked reading to mine... because I love it. I loved snuggle time, even when I was reading to someone else’s kids. (I miss that now that my kids are older.)  Over the years I tried not to use the TV to babysit my kids for hours… Because children are HUNGRY for attention. When I was raising my youngsters, neighbor children came to MY house to play, and get the attention they craved from a caring adult. But honestly –by mid-afternoon we all were worn out… And then since none of the kids took naps, everyone had some downtime while a video played in the background. Until we could go again.

I wasn't a perfect parent, by any means.  I struggled with my son's independent nature, and his temper.  I wrote Kivi and the Lizard People because sometimes in frustration – I got angry at him. I had to learn how to respond to his anger in a kind loving manner. And it took me a while to learn what worked, and what didn’t. What words set him off, and what soothed.  I'm still learning.

Psychologists know a lot more about ANGER now than they did when my kids were little. But most of it is still in ADULT speak. Meaning if you’re an overwhelmed mom you may not have the time or patience to focus on the big words. Here it is in a nutshell.

• Be as loving as you can.
• During a melt down – your child’s or yours… stop, close your mouth, and breathe.  Don't speak words you will end up regretting later.
• Read simple things for yourself.
• If you are struggling with emotional issues - ask for help.  Do what it takes to heal your wounds, so you can be a better parent.  No one can do it for you.  And even though it is work, hard work, it is worth it.


Kivi and the Lizard People gives parents simple words to talk with their children about where anger comes from, and how to shift away from it.    If you would like to buy a copy - it is available on iPad and iPhone - see the link on the right.

I want to Make a difference…  I hope someday that books like Kivi and the Lizard People will become obsolete. So that the human race NEVER needs these kinds of books again.



EVER.


Gayle McCain
***Hugs***

Do What You Need to Do.

 An old friend taught me a valuable lesson. Do what you need to do. Even if occasionally it means that you forget about ‘protocol’. This friend is an orchestral conductor. I met him when he was just starting out. Even though conducting choral music wasn’t his dream, he was young and needed experience. Thus he took a gig conducting a church choir, which is where I met him. He created some truly beautiful memories through his interpretation of the music. I was able to bring my joy in music out to play. It was work – in that it took focus and effort. But it was joyful work. I did it because it allowed me to express something in me that I had no other way to express. And I loved him for bringing that out of me. 

While with us, he pursued his PhD in orchestral conducting, and started his own chamber orchestra. Honestly they were better than the other orchestras in the city. When he finished his PhD he was able to get a very prestigious position on the east coast. So he left us to pursue his dream. His first concert arrived, and he had on a beautiful suit. I saw the pictures. It wasn’t a problem when he was socializing with the patrons, or talking to his orchestra members. 

But when he raised his arms to conduct, it was tight across the shoulders. And it got in the way of his ability to do what he needed to do – lead a group of individuals in their creation of beautiful music. And so he took the jacket off. During the concert. If you or I did that during the course of our workday, no one would think anything about it. But this made national news. 

 Apparently conductors NEVER, EVER do that. And so it was a very, very big deal. 

And he lived. 

 AND his audience loved him for it. Because he put the music first. This talented man has gone on to even more prestigious positions, with even better orchestras, in his pursuit of bringing beautiful music to life. 

The lesson that I learned (and am still learning) is that I need to be able take off my own straight jacket to be able to do what I came here to do. 

Live. 

Gayle 

PS For those writers among you who are cringing at my excessive use of 'and'... pfft .

Thank you...

 There are times in our lives when we are so close that we can taste it... Whatever "it" is. We can feel success, or love, or the start of a new journey. And it seems just out of our grasp. We get caught up in some struggle to get what we want. Why? I don't know. Perhaps because we are impatiently pacing around looking over our shoulder at what we thought we 'wanted'. Even though something WAY better is on the horizon -- the glory of the sunset or the beauty of the path in front of us. 

How do we shift our focus and stop looking in the 'wrong' direction? First and foremost - we have to recognize what we're doing. We have to stop what we're doing and re-focus on what is really truly important to us. Friends, family, laughter, love. 

And we have to spend time appreciating all the wonderful things that we do have in our lives. 

Warmth, light, the ability to communicate. Smiles that reach our eyes. Pictures of fractals, sweet poetry, a soft warm dog, food in the freezer. Butterflies. Laughing children. Clean water, coffee. Music, and the ears to hear it with. Imagination. And friends to love. 

Knowing that there is enough in this world that is glorious, and we only have to really look at it and spend time appreciating it's presence in our life. And so, my friends, tonight, allow me to say - thank you for being here. Thank you for listening and for reading. Thank you for loving and laughing. 

Thank you for being part of my life. For you are well and truly loved. 

Thank you - Just Thank You.

I was Busy Living

I have had the most incredible journey in the last two years. And I dreamed it all into being.

I have published my first book. (It was published and then pulled because it was full of proofreading errors.) I have written my second novel. And discovered why my 1st didn't sell (I write a whole lot better now - so back to the editing room for Forest of Mists). I have the most incredible illustrated children's book that I will see published, in September I think.

I have met strangers that I turned into best friends. I have discovered the joy of having a squirmy puppy sleeping with me, that turned into a squirmy huge dog with the biggest feet I've ever seen. And is still fun to sleep with.

I have traveled extensively. I've had the pleasure of staying in one place long enough to really fall in love with it. I discovered that as much as I like the maid service of a hotel - having access to a kitchen of "my own," and a coffee pot has made everything easier. And I fell in love with the awesome public transit systems that they have in Europe.

I have moved beyond the housewife I used to be - into a woman who hobnobs with the "big dogs." And I surprised myself - by enjoying it. And I realize that although I love traveling 1st class, I also love riding the bus and finding a small hotel where the carpet is worn, but the service is better than any 5 star hotel I've ever been in (the Hotel am-Lerchenberg-Mainz Germany in case you wanted to know).

I have experienced the chill of the English Channel. And the excitement of really putting the peddle to the metal on the Autobahn. I loved the glory of getting there in 1/2 the time and am now experiencing the pleasure involved in being able to enjoy the scenery. I discovered the glory of German farmers' markets. The glory of the flowers is a memory I shall cherish.

I've wandered one of the smaller Canadian forests, and seen the reddest sunset over Lake Ontario. I have learned how to take really good photos of both.

I have experienced customs/immigration officers who were curious about me and my life of travel, and those who wanted me to be curious about theirs.

I loved it that my imagination took random events - such as 3 identical cars, teenagers zipping through traffic on their motorcycles, and a do-dad thrown out the window and created an exciting mystery about them - a cozy thriller full of a Robin Hood type theft, high speed chases and time travel. And as soon as I finish editing the novel I'm on - I'll write that story down.

I have discovered that I can still learn new things. And that it's both easier and harder than it was 30 years ago. But that it definitely means more. I have finally found something that brings many of my quirky hobbies into one place, using the knowledge I have, and building on it.

I have discovered the blessings of having more than one best friend. And seen my children for the bright, charming young people that they are. I have learned that you can have a fight with someone you love, and that even though it feels bad to fight you fix whatever needs fixing. And through it all you can still love and be loved.

I have seen one 'dream' of mine after another come to life. All while I wasn't even watching, I was busy living.

Dance. Just Dance

 Years ago I foolishly came to believe that making a mistake (and admitting it) made me ... less than. 

I don't remember when that belief came to be. Probably in my teens. By the time I got to college and somehow I had to be 'perfect'. 

Which really... is impossible. But I tried. Oh I tried. 

 I think this is why I never had an opportunity to dance with anyone else and have spent my life dancing by myself. What I realized last night as a new friend came into my life was that I'm terrified of making mistakes in someone's arms. 

 Last night I figured out that I have to let go of my need to control, and let go my knowledge of rhythm and music. Because the woman must surrender to whatever rhythm her partner is feeling and transmitting, even if it is different from the music she hears. 

 Otherwise you're just two people awkwardly shuffling your feet. There are places, times, and tasks where I can, and do, lead. But the dance floor isn't one of them. I don't want to be 'taught' how to dance with a partner. Because that keeps the understanding up 'in my head,' not allowing it to embed itself into the fibers of my being. 

 When the opportunity presents itself I will ask you to dance with me. Not to teach me. Just to dance with me. To accept that in the beginning our movements may not be an intricate woven series of steps. 

 And so, I ask forgiveness in advance for stepping on your toes, bumping heads, or just plain clumsiness, as I release my need for control and learn to Listen. 

 g