All Things Kennected

Music is what is born when the heavens cannot be heard. ~ TL Alton 

We can all remember a time in our lives when we heard a snippet of a song, the tail end of lyrics and knew that wherever life carried us, we would reflect on that moment of hearing it, for the first time. 

In February 2012, I was in a Paper Gift shop in London, England. I walked in just as a song was coming to a close. The lyrics “Angels to fly…Angels to die,” grabbed my attention. It was less than 10 weeks after my daughter had passed and anything related to angels, stood out. I was so moved by a string of words that I took out a slip of paper and wrote them down. It would be months later that I would have a music encounter on the radio and be privileged to hear the full song by Ed Sheeran ~ The A- Team. 

When the opportunity arises where a friend introduces you to a musician you have never heard before, a connection is made. All it takes is that chance encounter to spread the passion of artistry.

One day, my dear friend Sarah Kube, sent me a song of a man she heard performing while on her travels. She was on a layover when Sarah encountered Ken Stead. My friend was so moved by his music and knowing how much of an avid music lover I am, she sent me Ken’s song. As my fingers typed his name into You Tube, I further was welcomed in, by his moving way of sharing his songs. 

Never could I imagine, when my journey took a serious bend in the highway of life, I would get to meet the man, from my hometown in Edmonton. 

In a previous blog post, my storytelling explains how the crossroads of our paths, saw Ken Stead and Kyle Mosiuk, perform in Port Alberni, BC. The venue was exquisite, for their harmonies played off the arched rafters of Char’s Landing Public house. A renovated church that has existed for a 100 years - showcased the talents of two musicians, who simply wanted to perform. Those in attendance were fortunate to be amongst Ken and Kyle, in an intimate gathering, where their gifts shone through.

During a break, I introduced myself and as I shared about my own battles and overcoming adversity, Ken and Kyle offered me something so rare and most valuable…they gave me their time. 

The next day, I was summoned back to the venue, where I was presented with a stapled envelope and a sincere gifting of support, was tucked inside. Looking back, it was a remarkable time of these travelling musicians who would pay it forward, to me. I had also received two signed CD’s of Ken Stead’s “Fear Has No Place Here.” One was for me and the other for Sarah. The song’s lyrics found a residence within and quickly became one of my favourites. 

Ken Stead Source: Big Valley Jamboree

The following information is from Ken Stead’s Kickstarter Campaign:

Under Ken Stead's Album "Civil War" International Release

Ken Stead's Album "Civil War" second full length album titled Civil War needs a boost to effectively distribute and promote it to as many people as possible.

Civil War Kickstarter Link on YouTube >>>  https://youtu.be/vEAbHtLC9Rg

The concept of Civil War is to encourage people that whatever inner battles we are going through, that they are worth it if we're always seeking inner peace.  ~ Ken Stead

Certainly, I can relate to the main notion of the upcoming album and wish Ken, along with everyone involved all very best! 

I encourage others to become involved and read for themselves all that Ken Stead has shared on the Kickstarter Campaign. 

Here is the link to a song that I enjoy. 

 Ken Stead - Oh Carolina ~ https://youtu.be/FsPSH8obAZM

I would like to add that the next time you find yourself walking by a fountain or

under the lights of a city somewhere and your ears hear the melody of a musician, give them your valued time…Your heart and soul will thank you for it. 

By TL Alton

The Discernment of Love, Goodness and Truth

Ruelle - Carry You (featuring Fleurie)  https://youtu.be/-rKwPblSdQA

 I wanted to create something that sheds light on the goodness of humanity in the midst of what seems like a lot of darkness. I have always believed that people in their ugliest, most hateful states have all been wounded in some way, at some point in their lives. I wanted to portray the common threads in humanity: We all feel pain. We all believe in something...and that more than ever, we should be coming together to lift one another up, not tearing each other down. It’s about the beauty of people coming together regardless of their differences. ~ Ruelle 

The above video link is to a song that reminded me of the union between mother and daughter. The elements of water and analysis of darkness, radiates in the time-frame of visual imagery and lyrical composition.

In terms of grief, it reflects the void of space created when a loved one dies. As the song Carry You progresses, there is a scene where the blonde woman is on her knees. As her fingers scrape at the earth, I have been in that position at the reservoir, where my daughter Shayla, passed away. However, at the end of the video, there is a profound release…where luminosity exists in the midst of the shadows.

 

How I have felt in my grief journey

Right after commemorating what would have been Shayla’s 29^th Birthday, a glimmering fragment ruptured. So insightful was a breakthrough in my bereavement passageway, it rendered me to fall on my knees. With a well of tears forming, I soon felt them coursing down the story lines of my face. Within the crumpled mass of my heaving body, it was as if the light had come to a mourner’s dance. 

Before this divine manifestation took place, things lead up to my discovery.

There are two specific dates I chose to do something in my daughter’s memory. One is her death day- December 12^th and the other is her birthday-February 24^th. This year saw me be part of two charity fundraisers. The first was a walk called Coldest Night of the Year and the other was for The Victoria Taiama Partnership, which included the performance of Issamba which means “come together.”There was a live auction of donated merchandise and a celebration of Black History Month. 

Shayla, many years ago at the African Festival in Vancouver, BC

The following is part of what I shared with those who donated to Coldest Night of the Year.

It's cold out there. And on February 23rd, I did something about it. Together with thousands of Canadians across the country, I walked 10 km and fund-raised to support hungry, homeless, and hurting people and families in my community. My donations were for The Mustard Seed Street Church and Food Bank.

This event held a special connection to my 21 year old daughter Shayla, who passed away in 2011. Throughout her life, Shayla gave of her time, fund-raised for those in need and took part in events helping the homeless.
I was able to speak with Desiree Neufeld, who is the Events & Sponsorship Coordinator at The Mustard Seed Street Church. She kindly listened to me share about how Shayla's birthday was February 24th and was walking in her memory. While I had no team, I was joined by another solo walker, Jessica Mol. I could not think of a better gift to celebrate her life and all she gave, by my participation in the Coldest Night of the Year. 
Shayla was full of light; therefore I walked guided by the illumination of giving love to others!

The total raised for The Mustard Seed was $23,916, while walkers and teams for Our Place ~who are celebrating 50 years of love, hope and belonging to those most vulnerable, raised $52,179.

On my walk, I was given a toque and a pin. Instantly, I was uplifted when I saw the words on the badge that read: The world needs more snow angels.  

The previous week, when the snowstorm hit the Island, I shared with my friend Christopher, the abundance of the white stuff. His response brought me joy, as he encouraged me to go out and make a snow angel. Taking his spirited advice, I sauntered out in the cold and let myself fall deep into the drifts of snow particles.  Flapping my arms, I began to laugh at the sight of a grown woman, reconnecting with her inner child.

During the Coldest Night of the Year event, I had the enjoyable company of Jessica, who I met at the event. As we got to know one another more, I shared various stories. All the while, I wore a special lanyard I had created for the occasion. We engaged in conversation that included family, loved ones and my own deep in the trenches life experience of being homeless. Nearing our milestone of what we thought was only 2km, turned out to be 5km and then we started our trek back for live music, vegetarian chili and some hugs at The Mustard Seed. It was due to Jessica that my time on the walk was made more special, by her presence. 

 

The next day, on the 24^th, I packed up bags of skittles that I have an abundance of thanks to my collection and my friend Sarah’s contribution. I made 29 baggies up and then set them out in the shape of these numbers, to honour a birthday that would not have Shayla physically in it. 

My daughter loved the candies and every time I eat one, I smile. I decided to make an outline of silver beads around the 29 that trail off…signifying the birthdays where no longer a cake with candles, is blown out. Then I added 3 sparklers to emit some glow.

Grabbing my bag that I carry downtown, I placed inside hand warmers, toques, mitts and all the bags of skittles.

My usual stops downtown had me go to places where I have met and spoken with others. Again, I wore my lanyard. Walking up to the Greater Victoria Public Library, I was saddened to see a young girl, asleep on the bench. Her snoring echoed throughout the library corridors. Scattered around her were belongings that should have been on the floor of a teenage girl’s room, not in the outdoors of a public place. As I quietly walked over, I retrieved packages of hand warmers, and a couple bags of skittles. I put them by her resting head and said a prayer, then walked away.

Carrying on, I stopped and talked with those in need. In giving more candy and a pair of mitts to a lady, she eyed the ones I was wearing and in my heart I knew she needed them more than I did.

As I chatted with a man, who I have come to speak with on numerous times, he pointed towards the street and said,

 “See, she still has the jacket you gave her.”

That girl was the one a month earlier; I had gifted my daughter’s jacket too. This brought a lot of grace to me on the day it was Shayla’s birthday. To know someone was being kept warm meant a great deal to me.

Once back home, I gave thanks for the fireplace that is next to my bed and the healthy food that is now part of my Arthritis regimen. 

I began to sort though some of the material I had printed from Shayla’s Facebook, 8 years earlier. Some made me laugh, while others were things even I didn’t know. In a post she had titled: 25 Things u didn’t know and probably don’t care about. LOL

Here are a few samples:

*I secretly love to read children’s books, they make me happy.

*I drink milk before bed, cause I believe in what scientists say about it giving you weird dreams.

* Mom, that pumpkin cheesecake recipe you had on the fridge, I burnt it as I didn’t want to dare take the chance that it would taste bad. I love u mom!

As I read the list, I was laughing deeply, until I read what Shayla had written for number

 #22: I’m not afraid of dying.

 

Throughout her time, I have always believed that Shayla ‘sensed’ she would not live to see the golden years. 

Sitting in living room, I decided to take a look at the Vision Board created for the course, I was in. Having taken a picture of it, I studied it with interest. Unexpectedly, it was then that I had a revelation. This was a direct eye-opener from Our Creator and the message that I received, has given me a deeper sensitivity on my spiritual walk.

First, the scripture that comes from the Bible that spoke to me was: 

“Put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of Light.” Romans 13:12 

In January, my brother Brad sent me some money for my birthday. I then purchased a cover at the Christian Book and Music store for my Bible- with similar scripture as the above quote.

Another quote related to perspicacity states: “Without providing for a time of healing and discernment, there will be no hope of living through the present moment, without a shattering of our common life.

In my years as a blogger, I have spoken of serendipity, coincidences and fate- one and all the same definition. On the other hand, none of this applies to my existence, as I am of God’s creation. Therefore the spirit which teaches me to listen has opened my heart to the Lord’s Divine connections.

The purpose of my declaration brings me to what transpired within the comforts of my home. Examining my Vision Board, several key images leapt out. The instruction for creating our poster boards was simple: put together various images that reflect where you see yourself in five years. 

In the center, I constructed a cross with Faith right in the middle. I added the majestic beauty of the trees, and a cabin on the water encircled by mountains. The value of community and respect for the environment are present. I cut out and pasted some of my favourite quotes- including one about the importance of pursuing dreams. I used images to represent my newfound desire for better health and wellness. The whimsical part of my imagination, is represented by a unicorn, and relates to my writing journey.

I am sure those who know me, would say that is a fair representation of myself and my goals. 

This is where one single image changed my purpose and the world has lost its grip on me. 

I have spent the past 8 years creating a legacy for my late daughter Shayla. I have taken part in countless walks, charity events, and spoken tirelessly about her existence. In her name, I have given to others and even in my Will; my daughter’s memory is honoured. I spoke openly and gave my support to safety changes on McKinley Road. The granite rock that once was at the reservoir, I created. A Memorial bench installed at Dewdney Beach, has the words I provided, etched into her plaque. I was also there to give the dedication. Over the years, my tragedy became my close friend’s heartbreak. They have known me to wear pins, lanyards, and t-shirts with my daughter’s picture on them. 

Therefore, when I looked at my Vision Board and saw at the very top a picture of Shayla, with the word angel, it shocked me as if God himself had spoken through a burning bush. 

I had placed my child, the one who had died nearly a decade ago…at the top of a Vision Board where I AM supposed to be…in five years. Instead of putting a photograph of myself, I had made the choice to place her death, over my life. 

Heaven knows…I may have accepted the realm she is in, yet I had not allowed her death to be declared.

In doing so, I think of all the possibilities I have let go of, in making the decision to live in a world where she still exists—with me, by my side. 

Throughout the years, I have been honest with the truth that I feel ‘lost’ without my daughter. Also, I have spoken about how I was never a perfect mother. Since her passing, I have tried to make up for time I can never get back. 

In my grief, I often wondered if there was purpose to the pain. Now I understand there is work to be done, at the changing station of my life.

Along with that, an answer came in the resounding lyrics of a song, which made me realize the time to cut ties to Shayla’s legacy, has come. Even my own wayward thinking that the words I have written will be my legacy, is not the reality that God wants for us. 

As I was letting this settle within me, this song found its way into my heart. The vivid imagery of where this video was created helped to understand the words even more. The lyrics spoke to me about what I believe to be the truth… 

"Only Jesus" ~ Casting crowns

 Video Link: https://youtu.be/_eQd3K2Fxp4

Make it count, leave a mark, build a name for yourself
Dream your dreams, chase your heart, above all else
Make a name the world remembers
But all an empty world can sell is empty dreams
I got lost in the light but it was up to me
To make a name the world remembers
But Jesus is the only name to remember

And I don't want to leave a legacy
I don't care if they remember me
Only Jesus
And I've only got one life to live
I'll let every second point to Him
Only Jesus

All the kingdoms built, all the trophies won
Will crumble into dust when it's said and done
'Cause all that really matters
Did I live the truth to the ones I love?
Was my life the proof that there is only One
Whose name will last forever?

One day, my life will end on this earth and I will reunite in the heavens with my daughter. This place we call home will cease to exist and all of my things will crumble into dust. 

The current project I am working on, is now seen with fresh eyes that God created his daughter’s heart, which once beat within me... 

...And along with it a message of Love that Shayla LIVED…she does not live. 

By TL Alton

Different Yet the Same

“Ain’t no pot so crooked, you can’t find a lid to fit.” ~ Author Unknown

Within society, those who have lost a sense of joy, find other ways to fill the void. In doing so, our perception of what is normal becomes distorted. Madness to one person may seem like a safe place to another, while scars can hold a lifetime of stories. What happens then, if someone’s broken shell reaches out and extends love to another person that is different, but at the core, the very same. 

In my previous post, I reference Denver Moore; an inspirational speaker and author. His earlier life included being a convict, homeless, and man of rage. Wielding a baseball bat, he lived on the streets for 22 years. His life story was written into a New York Times Bestseller. The book was co-authored with a well known art dealer, Ron Hall. The story tells of Ron’s late wife, Debra Hall who befriended Denver. Moore found himself going from a life of violent outbursts and sleeping outdoors, to being given Dallas’s prestigious honour, as Philanthropist of the year in 2006. Denver’s chronicles went beyond the hardships he endured. By openly speaking of his struggles and sharing about the bonds of friendship with Ron, their story inspired North America. An estimated $70 million dollars was donated to various causes related to homelessness. Included in his legacy, is a movie based on the book titled: “Same Kind of Different as Me.” 

The timing of watching the film coincided with my own plans. On my birthday, I wanted to be amongst those who each carry their own story of loss, heartache, anger and liberation. When I walk along the streets, I feel a connection to those layered in human trials. I make a point to never avert my gaze, rather I look at those sleeping, panhandling, clinging to the space between. Looking deep into their eyes, I see their hands are no dirtier than mine…just different stains on them. 

After I bid *Susan goodbye, I continue on strolling the sidewalks.  My thoughts soon drift to the polar opposite names referred to the community I call home. From paradise found to a wasteland of sin, I imagine our city as an hour glass, with the misfits of society struggling on the bottom. 

No matter how hard they try, the slippery slope to advance is impeded by the grains of sand that represent their addictions, vices and character flaws; drowning each of them. 
 A quote from the film and novel resonated with me that Denver Moore said:

“When you are precious to God, you are just as important to Satan.” 

Trudging on through the rain, I felt confidant in being able to give away, the jacket held firmly within the bag of love. 

After completing another loop around the downtown core, there were two First Nations men sitting together. Approaching them, I struck up a conversation. Sharing about my daughter, I told them of my purpose in wanting to pass along her jacket. Suddenly the young man on the right of me was emotional, as he nodded his head to show my intentions were genuine. 

His friend spoke up and said, “I have a girlfriend, who only is wearing a sweatshirt. She is at the library, but will be back soon. I could take the jacket and give it to her.” 

 I remarked, “There is something else… inside several pockets are special things I put in the coat. All I ask, is you wait to see what is in them, when your girlfriend gets back.” 

He nodded in agreement. 

“What is her name?” I asked.

*“Lisa”, he said with a smile. 

Standing up the young man received the jacket, as if some ceremonial remembrance was taking place. I showed each of the young men a picture of Shayla on my phone. 

“My daughter should be here with me, but she’s waiting for her momma one day to come home,” I said. 

Walking away, I knew the person who was not even present to receive the jacket, was the one it was meant for.

By now, I was overcome with all that had transpired thus far.  It was late, but I decided to grab a cup of tea. Walking into the mall, I looked down at the Love bag and while I was happy the jacket had been gifted, I was sad to see the bag empty. 

After the purchase of my tea, I wanted to go into The Body Shop. My experience there saw me treated like royalty by an employee named Marcellina or as she stated with a perky grin, “March, just like the month!” 

Her lively nature was the uplift I needed. Plus, her knowledge of every product was incredible. March reminded me of a cross of Amy Schumer and Melissa McCarthy. When I asked what manly scents she had, March led me straight over to the men’s section. What she did next still has me in awe and giggles. Every scent I picked up, March proceeded to conjure up the image of the man who would actually wear it. There were scenarios, hair placement and even how many buttons were opened on the tailored shirts. It was as if she had gone to the secret place of her heart and brought to life a plethora of gentleman. I confessed that I was a sap for the scent of nice cologne. Now, March had raised the bar, immensely! Suddenly, a real human being was in the store and I made note of what he was wearing. Within minutes of serving the young man, he had selected his choice and after paying, he proceeded to leave. March winked at me and whispered, “White Musk” man. 

I looked at the customer walking out. Everything prior to what she had explained in detail, about a man who buys the White Musk cologne, was a perfect match! I was impressed. After helping me in the store, I made a note to let her employer know, how fabulous March’s service is to all customers.

As I walked back to my friend’s car parked at the library, I noticed the two, young, men I had spoken with and given the jacket to. They were now in a different place. Except, with them was the girl…wearing the coat. It took me a moment, as I stood there seeing how it fit her perfectly. Taking a breath in, I walked over to where they were sitting on the concrete. Lisa's boyfriend was happy to my reappearance and introduced me to his girlfriend. I was curious if they had found all the items. Suddenly, one by one, the young man named everything and thanked me. 
In my request to take a picture, I asked first, due to the sensitive nature of some people being on the streets and also cultural reasons. Likewise, I did not want the young girl to feel obligated.

“Would you mind if I take a snapshot of the side of you. I will not use your real name or show your face.” 

Lisa gave a smile and responded, “Yeah sure… it’s no problem.”
Standing up, the silhouette of her frame, reminded me of the importance of  Shayla's roots. While my daughter identified with Aboriginal ancestry, in her heart she knew her lineage was possibly connected to the Shuswap region.   
What mattered in releasing the jacket to someone in need, it freed up in my heart, to love myself more beyond any iniquity I had been carrying. 

After, I hugged the young girl and thanked each of them for showing me kindness and respect for a mother’s request. It made me feel good that instead of my daughter’s jacket hanging in my closet, it was now warming another soul.

By now, all I wanted to do was come home. However, my night was not over…yet.

I stopped into a store to pick up a specific item. As usual, my purpose was diverted by something sparkly. I top with a heart shape of sequins, called me over. I was eyeing the details on it, when I heard a lady ask me if I needed any help. Turning around, I was greeted by a tiny figure in an employee uniform. Her obsidian wisps pulled away from her face, while her large almond eyes drew me in. I smiled in an instant and laughing I replied, “Oh I am not sure, but this pajama top is calling my name.”

The young girl began to chuckle and reaching over she touched the material.

“Oh, it is so soft as well!”

Laughing again, I nodded in agreement.

We began to talk. *Cheryl told me she was originally from China and had been working only a month at the store. She mentioned of her time spent in the USA and how unfriendly she had found people to be.

Looking downward, Cheryl said, “They don’t see me… instead…” her voice tapered off.

I could only imagine the cruelty she suffered, as covering the young girl’s face and body were various, thick, scars. While I wondered what had happened, Cheryl’s gentle presence made you see only beauty thru her kindness. As her gaze met mine again, we both smiled at one another.

It was then the words of Denver Moore popped into my head.

Hmmm, I thought… “Same kind of different as me”.

Cheryl broke the silence with her words,

“You are a nice person who is warm and friendly, she said.”

In that moment, I felt awkward in thanking her, for she deserved to be treated equally with compassion and acceptance in this world.

All of a sudden, our conversation was interrupted by a little boy who was probably eight or nine years old. When Cheryl turned to speak with him, his reaction was not of surprise. Rather, when she bent down to his level, their eyes locked and he politely asked for her help. Waving at me, Cheryl went on her way to make another person’s day wonderful.

I decided to buy the PJ top and once back at the car; I was inundated with all that had occurred on my birthday. Looking at the time, it was 10:50 pm, was I realized there was one thing I had forgotten. Driving to the nearest grocery store, I had 4 minutes to purchase a Jones cream soda. At the store as I reaching over to grab bottle, I saw a card rack and one particular one grabbed my attention. It was bright, with a quote that Shayla once posted on her Facebook. Back in 2011, I was amused in discovering it. 

Later, I would repeat it as one of the many sayings, when giving her Eulogy at the Celebration of Life. Everyone who knew my daughter, also recalled her sense of humour. Nearly 8 years later on the eve of my birthday, as I purchased a Jones soda, the irony hit me. Driving back to my place, I had alot to mull over. 

The beautiful arrangement of flowers that Terry had bought me, welcomed me home. 

Twisting open the cap and reading my 'fortune', produced a huge smile. 

Prosperity and Love are in reach.

After a few sips, I decided to take out PJ top out of my Love bag and cut off the tags. 

Looking for the scissors in the drawer, I glanced up and saw the pendant hanging that my mom had bought me for Christmas. 

It was special, because it had the words that ever since Shayla was a babygirl, I always said: “I Love You to the Moon and Back.”

One Mother’s Day, my daughter gifted me a photograph of us together. On the photograph she had wrote: “I Love You to the Moon and Back.”

What brings me happiness… is my dear friend Judy, who became a grandmother for the first time. She says those words with her own spin on them, about her grandson Odin.

As I went to cut off the tag on my nightshirt, I read the words: Ladies flip sequins.

Due to my long day, I stared at it for a minute, trying to figure out what that meant? Picking up the top, I laid it on my bed and let my hand swipe at the sequins on the fabric. It took a few times, before I realized to my amazement, the images of the moon and stars appearing within the heart. Glancing over at the picture of mother and daughter in the frame, the tears came freely, as I thought of the connection.

Even though she could not spend my birthday with me ...far from the heavens 
I envisioned my babygirl whispering: “Happy Birthday Mom!”

By TL Alton

*Certain names have been changed to protect the identity of the individuals.