Sacred Places

The Indigenous peoples of North, Central, and South America, as well as “Earth-Based” societies around the world, share the notion of our planet being a living organism and a Sacred Being; Mother Earth. She is the perfect balance to a male, Sky-Based, God. In fact, there are references to “Father Sky, Mother Earth” among certain First Nations.

When I was very young, probably five or six years of age, many of the old covered bridges in New Brunswick were demolished after newer, more modern structures put in to replace them. Often, the new bridges were placed geographically higher if possible to avoid being damaged or washed out during spring floods. One such bridge was McLaggan bridge, about four miles from my home. I didn't give it much thought throughout the years. Occasionally, as I was crossing it by car, I'd glance over to the place where the old bridge had been, but there was never any desire to explore thee area.
In the early part of this century, I purchased a digital camera and while home visiting, I stopped at a place near one end of the new bridge where it is mostly rock and pavement. In the nearly sixty years since the old bridge was removed, there really hasn't been a lot of growth and there is room to park a car and get out. I decided to stop and get some pictures of the river. It was the first time in over forty years I had stood on that spot.

The last time I was home, a couple of weeks ago, I felt compelled to go there again. This time, there was a cool breeze blowing down the valley, and as I stood there shivering, I looked down at the ground. I had expected to see garbage, the usual cast-offs from weekend under-age drinking or teen-aged couples seeking some alone time. There were a couple of food wrappers yes, but aside from that, it seemed it had been pretty much vacant for some time. There were some Pine cones, and a few bits of trees; the ends of limbs probably snapped off in high winds, and some moss growing on the rocky surface, but not much evidence of human visitation.

As that image returned to my mind this evening, I began to feel sad for this rocky ledge, high above the river below. I saw it as a place where once life had thrived and humans were common. Now, it seems lonely and alone. Suddenly, this place which had held no meaning for me, which I had also ignored for many years, became special and, dare I say, SACRED to me. I can understand the first inhabitants of this region, saying there were some places where “Good Medicine” happened. Places such as this have “Power,” and provide opportunity to build a Sacred Fire to offer Ceremonies to honour the Spirits of the Ancestors, and to Mother Earth Herself.

You can be certain I will visit this spot with each successive visit I make to my homeland; the land of my birth.

~Still Wandering

Recent Activities

Once again, a lifetime has passed since my last post.

Recently, I returned to the land of my birth to play Music and have some much needed downtime.

The Harvest Jazz and Blues Festival was nothing short of SPECTACULAR! With the number of acts available, and the fact that I didn't arrive until the day before it ended, I missed a great deal of it, but what I DID manage to see was superb! Of course, I had to miss Aerosmith in the process. Big booooooo on that.

The reason I went of course, was to perform with Highway 125 at the Hoodoo House on Saturday night (Sept. 13) and I must say, it was an EXCELLENT way for us to cap off our summer season. I'd say if the room wasn't sold out, it was very close to being so. I'm very proud that my nephew Randy got to perform at the Galaxie Barracks tent. I hope this is the beginning of better things to come for him. Shortly after his show, Highway 125's Curtis Matheson took the Siemens Acoustic stage on the steps of 527 Queen St. Not what one would expect in a “stage” but it worked well and Curtis put on a tremendous solo show. I thoroughly enjoyed Ross Neilson's high energy performance with my buddy Karl Gans on drums. After our set I took a walk with two friends from school, Ellen-Anne Bubar, and Cyndy Hood.

Sunday saw me rehearsing for a reunion of a band I'd been a part of in the 1970s; Cozway. We hadn't performed together since 1977, so it was a real treat to have the opportunity to get together again and prepare for a show which took place on Saturday Sept 20. While the event was poorly attended due to lack of advertising and the fact that another event (a fundraiser for another former classmate who is dealing with some serious health issues) is coming up this weekend, it was a real blast to be on a stage again with the members of Cozway who have all continued to grow as Musicians.

The rest of the time I was on a much needed vacation. I took Mom out to dinner on her 91st birthday, after which we visited with my cousin Pat Dunphy. I was delighted to find that Pat's sister (and obviously also my cousin) Faye Noble and her husband Richard had arrived the previous day. After I dropped Mom back at her apartment, I managed to squeeze in an all-too-brief visit with my Cuzz, Roxi.

There were as well, the hours spent with special friends, new and old, but I spent most of my time revisiting those special places that have meant so much to me since I was a child. Of course, I didn't manage to get to them all, and the ones I did manage to get to held a strange sense of confusion for me. I found myself longing to linger for as long as possible; to hold onto the moment and savour the memories, while simultaneously feeling the need to rush to the next location and do the same.

The one moment that stood out as “defining” to me though, was when I participated in a Meditation for World Peace, led by my new friend, Coralee Cole. I've been meditating for years as a way to ground and centre myself, and I've done solo meditations on Peace, as well as group meditations on other subjects, but this was the first time I'd participated in a group meditation where I'd been born. Somehow, that location (Officer's Square in Fredericton) made it more meaningful. Thank you Coralee and the others for allowing me to share this special time with you.

~Still Wandering

Reflections as a New Year begins

A friend of mine recently posted on Facebook that she felt the winter Solstice made more sense to her as a time to reflect on the past year than January first. While I concur, I also see the validity in waiting a few days before looking back. It makes sense that we actually see the days begin lengthening, however infinitesimally, before engaging in reflection.

I often reflect beyond the last year. I frequently reflect upon and remember with fondness my earliest New Years traditions. I remember when I was a young boy, Mom would allow me to stay up until midnight with her as she watched Guy Lombardo's orchestra on Television. I can still hear that rendition of “Auld Lang Syne” before Mom said. “OK, now off to bed!”

When I became older, around eleven, the Youth Group (Young Peoples) from our church would meet at the home of one of the families whose children were very numerous and active in the Youth Group. The Minister and his wife would chaperone as we played records and danced, and there was always lots of food! Then at Midnight we would wish each other a Happy New Year and prepare to head home. Once again, the Minister took an active role, stuffing as many of us as humanly possible into his car and stopping at the various houses along the way to drop us off.

Once I became a teenager and began playing drums, my “tradition” changed and I spent my New Years Eves on stage, providing the music for others to dance and celebrate to. This tradition continued as I progressed through my teenage years and into my twenties. At various times I found myself between bands during the Holidays and found New Years to be frankly quite boring if not on stage. This pattern of playing for New Years eve parties became less exciting as I entered my thirties. By that time I had become a professional touring drummer and the musicians with whom I performed all valued time with their families. Oddly, I still felt out of place when not performing, but eventually began to enjoy time at home, reading, or watching television. Now into my fifties, I still enjoy performing, but am cautious of drunk drivers when making my way home. Fortunately, with the disassembling and packing of the drumset, I am generally late enough departing that the revellers are mostly off the streets by the time I am driving home.

I also reflect, if that can be said of a time before my own, on those who have come before me. My ancestors who came to Canada in previous centuries, bringing their traditions with them and celebrating them to the best of their abilities. There were certainly no wealthy barons in my family tree, so I am certain my forebears celebrated quietly, at home or possibly at church. Perhaps a visit to the nearest neighbour by sleigh for a cup of tea and some stories.

I think too of the first arrivals on these shores; meeting the First Nations peoples whose customs would have seemed so strange to the Europeans. These Natives of Turtle Island would have gathered in their Lodges and Longhouses to partake in their Traditional Ceremonies to mark the Solstice. They would have given thanks to the Great Spirit, the Creator, for the bountiful harvest and good hunting of the previous season, for the close bond of family and Clan, for the lengthening of the days, however imperceptible. Songs, prayers, perhaps a Sweat, and the telling of stories passed down from generation to generation for millennia...

And the ancestors of the Europeans, mostly from the British Isles, who were descended from the Druids, Celts, and Picts, whose Solstice Traditions were as strange to us today as were the First Nations peoples of North America to the early Europeans. Traditions so cloaked in mystery we can only speculate on the happenings. These people would gather at Mystical, Magical places such as Stonehenge, Glastonbury, and Carnac and bargain with their Deities for the return of the sun. Some speculate human sacrifice may have occurred; we can be certain beverages containing alcohol or mind altering drugs were present. There would have been music, dancing, probably for days on end. It's fun to speculate what else may have taken place there.

As I sit here on this night, writing this, I feel a duality within; the stir of the ancient Druid, intoxicated and drumming out rhythms for the dancers, (perhaps one in particular with long flowing red hair and emerald green eyes) and the peaceful quiet of a late night when the temperature outside makes silent reflection wrapped in a warm blanket most desirable.

Happy Solstice, and New Year everyone!

The Passage of Time

Time flies. I've heard this expression since I was a pre-schooler, yet this last year and a half have really brought it home to me. Am I really busier than in the past, or have I just slowed down with age? I suspect both are true.

Summer 2013 is done. While the days remain sunny and relatively mild, (winter clothing is not yet a necessity) they are shorter, and the approach of winter is imminent and evident. While I find this time of year sad, it also has a certain charm that I enjoy.

A couple of weeks ago, I returned to my homeland to celebrate my mother's 90^th birthday with her and our family. A special thank you to my niece and cousins who conspired to hold a wonderful surprise party for her!  While I was there, I stayed with my cousin and his wife in their beautiful new home. It was with this cousin and his parents, my aunt and uncle, that I spent a lot of time as a boy and teen, and for many years he was more like an older brother than a cousin.

Being home again was a wonderful experience on so many levels, and the days I spent meeting with old friends and visiting my old haunts (except one) reminded me of the days long ago when after school, I'd walk in the fields along the forest’s edge, enjoying the late summer sun before supper and homework. While summer is my favourite season, as a schoolboy, it had a sense of aimlessness that in retrospect I realize became a bit boring by late August, and I began to anticipate the beginning of the new school year. I also looked forward to seeing classmates who lived too far for me to see them during our seemingly endless summers.

By the time I had reached my teenage years in Junior High, I was developing an interest in the opposite sex and looked forward to seeing certain girls on whom I had developed crushes. The extra activity of after-school functions allowed for socializing and a chance to form lasting friendships that in many cases still exist today.

While I was home I had a chance to finally see my sister's cottage. It was built several years ago and the chance to visit just never came when I was in the area. It is located on a large lake and has a coziness that makes it an ideal location for “getting away from it all.” If I lived closer, I'd certainly become a pain in my sister's ass! We (my sister, mother, nephew and I) took a drive down to another cottage closer to the water where Mom and my sister sat and chatted while I flew my kite and my nephew hung out. We all enjoyed that day fully before Mom and I returned to the city and had dinner together.

Another event that occurred, and one for which I am very grateful, is the reunion of an old band, Cozway. The four of us played together in the late 1970s and while it didn't seem to matter much then, we had formed a strong bond of friendship and love of the music we played. We didn't perform publicly this time; we barely played an hour but hung out together for another two hours after our little musical get together. The fact that it felt so good to be playing music together again made us all consider the possibility of getting together again next year and actually doing a couple of public performances. We'd need to all do some homework beforehand, and spend a few evenings in rehearsal before we took to the stages, but it's doable, especially given the level of musicianship we all have risen to. (although I still feel I am the weakest player of the four) The Bass Player's former girlfriend drove down from Ontario to witness this and spend some time with her family as well as her old friends. It was heart warming to see her again. I feel closer to her today than back in the '70s.

Locally, while a couple of musical doors have closed to me, another has opened, and I am really looking forward to it.

A young band who have been together only a short time have lost their drummer and have asked me to fill in until they can find a replacement; a task I am very happy to take on. They play mostly Blues, with a bit of Classic Rock thrown in for good measure, and I had recently mentioned to my spousal unit how I'd love to be playing more Blues. (I should also tell her that I would love to have several million dollars to play around with!)

We cannot stop the passage of time, and as we grow older, time seems to speed by more rapidly, so it is important to make that time count. Renew old or damaged friendships if possible, and hold your family close. All too soon we will all be memories, and it's important for the next generation to consider us good memories!


~Still Wandering...

The Reason for My Absence.

It has been nine months since I have written here. Part of the reason for this is the extremely unfortunate situation with my partner's health. To protect her privacy, I will not go into detail except to say it is not life threatening, but it takes up a lot of time in doctor's offices and hospitals.

Another reason I am not writing as much is the increased workload I have found myself dealing with. A few months ago, I was feeling very frustrated about the lack of gigs I had done in 2012, and the future was not looking very bright, so I started letting people know I was available for freelance work or, providing there were no scheduling conflicts, I could even become part of another band. Then the responses came... A friend from many years ago was performing in a duo with his wife and they decided to add a drummer (me) and lead guitarist and go as a full band. Well, that has led to what is now known as Savanna Heat. We play mostly Classic Rock, R & B, Motown, etc, and for me, it is an opportunity to play some songs that have been on my bucket list for many years. (Guess I'm going to need a new bucket...)

Additionally, I got a call from a Country band called Tempted. These guys have been around for a long time; probably close to fifteen years, and although some of the original members have moved on to other things, the members both past and present, are all skilled and well-respected musicians. The Bass player and I played together in the late '90s and early 2000 and became close friends during that time. The original drummer, while still involved, is working out west as are so many from our area. His schedule is two weeks out, two weeks home. When he's away, the Lonster will play!

Bad Habits is still a factor, but on a reduced level. Three of the members of that band have formed a trio which allows them to play in smaller venues that simply cannot afford or accommodate the full five piece act plus production. They go by the name of Triad and are well worth seeing.

Even with all of that going on, I still find myself at home many of the nights I would prefer to be performing.

Finally, one of the reasons (and probably the most significant one) that I have not been writing is my battle with depression. I have been dealing with it for years, and when it strikes, it removes not only the joy from life, but the motivation to do simple things such as write, paint, or even ride my bike or go for a walk. I have referred to it as “the monster under my bed” or more simply and most frequently, “the darkness...”

When I first became aware of my foe, I had not yet named it for it was at that time unidentified. All I could tell anyone (if I chose to speak at all) was that I had no desire to participate in life; no interest in even the things I love dearly. I would sit, numbly, and stare out the window, not focusing, not registering that there was life around me. I felt nothing; had given up feeling, because when I did feel, it was so painful.... This was not physical pain such as aching bones or sore muscles, but an unbearable pressure in my soul coupled with an emptiness that can only be described as a living death.

This is not to say it cannot manifest in physical form; it can and it does!

Clinical depression is not just a sadness or unhappiness. It's not simply dwelling on the less pleasant things in life. It's not something one can “just snap out of” or “get over.” It is a disease, and as much as those of us who suffer with it hate to admit, a form of mental illness. As far as I can tell, it is a chemical imbalance in the brain, which, like all chemical actions and reactions, can be triggered or eased by other chemicals in the brain. These other chemicals can come in the form of pharmaceuticals, or be generated naturally, by diet, exercise, or becoming immersed in activities that lead to pleasant feelings.

This is not to say that depression is “cured” as easily as taking an art class or a walk in the country. On the contrary, these activities are often very difficult to get involved in for a sufferer of depression. The effort needed is often too much. This can be a veiled blessing, because the effort needed to take one's own life is also too great, and many of us would do just that to avoid the suffering.

In my own experience, my illness can present itself in the form of a deep, despairing loneliness, far greater than anything anyone can imagine. Most unsettling, is that this loneliness is not the result of being alone. In fact, it can occur when in large groups of people. I have experienced it in a crowded shopping mall while Christmas shopping. I have been onstage performing for a full house of cheering people, and as I drive home, the despair is so deep, I feel as if the show had never happened. This often leads to feelings of isolation.

This isolation is not entirely a one way street. There have been times I have avoided people, including dear friends, because I did not want to expose them to my mood. I remember once seeing a friend in the parking lot of a supermarket and avoided her. I actually thought, “Oh no, I don't want to talk to *****, she's too cheerful!” Yet, when I have alienated my friends, I become bitter that they no longer contact me. Yes, I can tell you all about irony as well.

Depression is fortunately becoming more recognized. I have recently heard it referred to as “the common cold of the 21st Century,” but I think that is understating it too much. If you have lived through an episode of depression, you'll know it's far worse than any cold. Still, the recognition of its existence and its results means an increase in understanding among the general populace, and perhaps a new attitude toward it.

I have several friends who suffer depression, and while I am not a doctor of any sort, I believe its prevalence among artists is greater than among the rest of the population. I also have noticed that artists tend to release it through their art; indeed use it to create their art, and the rest of society, having no such outlet, tend to use pharmaceuticals more and become caught in the endless cycle of dependence and addiction.

Recent research has indicated that adult victims of depression are likely to have been victims of ADD or ADHD in their early years. For people my age, it is often a retroactive discovery due to the fact that in the 1960s and '70s, many schools were unprepared to understand or diagnose these symptoms. Looking back on it, I was a classic case of ADHD, but no one had even heard of it where and when I went to school. I see this as a good thing in retrospect since I was not medicated into being “normal.” Too many of today's youth are subjected to chemical drugs which, while keeping them sedated and easier for the teachers to deal with, also stifle their creativity, thus perpetuating the continuity of banal subservience that has kept our race from advancing past a worker/soldier mentality. If we are to learn true Compassion and escape the cycle of wars and oppression that has engulfed us for millennia. we NEED creative thinkers to break that mould.

You may have noticed I mention pharmaceuticals only in passing, without anecdotal follow-up. That is because my doctor and I really prefer the natural approach. I find Meditation (meditate, don't medicate) to be particularly helpful. I won't prescribe preferences because what works for me may not work for you. I can certainly share my experiences if asked, but I will not guarantee results. There are many good books, CDs and DVDs available for those who are interested, and some places have Meditation Teachers, often available through Yoga Studios. Even YouTube has many excellent videos to watch, but be careful in what you choose to accept, because there is a lot of misinformation out there.

Whatever you choose to aid in your recovery, I wish you well. And, if you are attempting to understand those of us who suffer from this dreadful existence, please understand that kindness is often the best solution...


~Still Wandering...

Things I have learned from a Bicycle seat

In my many years of cycling, I have seen a lot; from amazing cloud formations and sunsets, to animal behaviour I would have missed if I had been driving a car at a high rate of speed. I have also seen a more unpleasant side of human behaviour. People throw a lot of garbage from their cars. McDonald’s wrappers, Tim Horton cups, bottles, Kleenex, bags of clothing, clothing not in bags, used Pampers, used condoms, and much more. Sometimes they step out of the car to relieve themselves, which is a very good reason to stay ON the pavement.

I’ve learned a great deal too! Cycling can often be a metaphor for life itself. For example, the faster one goes, the harder one hits the bumps and the more those bumps hurt.

Following are a few more examples of the things I’ve learned from my bicycle seat:

Summer is exceptionally short.

So it seems is my memory. I don’t remember my butt hurting so much last year, but I’m riding the same bike on the same saddle.

There is no such thing as a “quick” ride. One can take a short ride of less than an hour, but I have yet to see my average speed surpass twenty-three kilometres per hour. From a bicycle seat, no matter how quickly one tries to go, it is always possible to smell the roses…. And Daisies, sweetgrass, spruce trees (pine and cedar too in most places except here) as well as freshly cut lawns, (my personal favourite) and for the most part, what people are having for their next meal!

While I don’t consider myself an accomplished rider, and often feel like I’m going to, as my friend said, “barf and cry,” I frequently hear people say. “I couldn’t do that.” I always tell them they could, with the “If I can do it, anyone can” reasoning. It’s astounding how many excuses they can come up with no matter how many I refute.

It amazes me how many people have dogs! On one ride recently, there were several dogs barking on both sides of the road simultaneously. Even the SPCA truck barked as it passed.

Atlantic Canada has its problems, but it doesn’t lack for natural beauty, or great places to ride. This time of year, the birds, butterflies, and flowers along the roadside are beautiful to behold, and in the case of the birds, listen to as well.

No matter how much I have to do at home, it will always be there when I finish my ride. Strangely, I frequently get more done when I ride than when I make excuses to not ride.

The temptation to explore is higher while cycling. It could be that we see the trails and roadways better at slower speeds and decide to see where they lead. I’ve noticed that as I travel slower, I have less need for speed and my urgency to get somewhere is less.

Even in consistency, there is change. The trees grow a little taller each year, the edge of the pavement chips away a little more, or is replaced, the flora goes through cycles and some species are replaced by others. People move out of houses and others move in. Houses are renovated, painted, siding gets added or replaced. In some cases, buildings burn down or are torn down. The landscape undergoes changes, gradually becoming something different.


Cyclists are friendly people. Maybe it’s due to our relatively low numbers or a shared activity , but when cyclists encounter other cyclists, there is most often a friendly smile and cheerful greeting. Perhaps it’s because we simply feel good out there and want to share our happiness. Cyclists are also less prone to road rage. It’s hard to be aggressive when rapid acceleration is impossible! Motorists, for the most part are not as friendly with each other. Mostly it’s a detached apathy that gets displayed, but aggressive behaviour is also frequent.

Finally, my bicycle is my friend and at times, my psychiatrist. She is my stress-buster, my confidant, and transportation. One does not need to be Lance Armstrong in order to ride a bike. One does not even need to spend a lot of money on lycra and a racing bike. One needs only to be comfortable in the clothes and on the bike one already has. Just get on your bike and go! It is always possible to improve your skills if it is something you want to get more serious about.

Still Wandering…

Remembering Louise White

Louise White was a very diminutive person with a stratospheric personality.


I first met Louise in 1992 when I was looking for a store that sold good quality vitamin supplements in Sydney NS. A man I knew at that time told me of a woman who had just opened a new health food store on a quiet side street and so I went to meet this woman and do some shopping.


I walked through the door and was greeted by a tiny little woman with dark brown eyes and hair. Her greeting of “Hi!” in a lilting, almost sung manner was one I’d become very familiar with in the next twenty years. I spent some time looking over her stock, and then made my purchase and left. I returned many times to buy vitamins and also began picking up on the “snack” foods she sold as well; trail mixes, energy bars, healthy alternatives to the high-sugared varieties which are sold in grocery and convenience stores. I brought friends who also became regular customers.


As with any relationship, the more I shopped there, the better I got to know Louise and her two equally tiny employees,one of whom was her daughter. I began to realize these three ladies were no mere vendors of vitamins and other healthy trade goods. They were committed to making and keeping people healthy! In less than a year I had met several people whose Mantra seemed to be “Louise White made me well again.” And so began a healing process for many people, myself included.


Because of the personalities involved, this little store, called “Nana’s Natural Foods” became very popular. I found it necessary to set aside a good hour or more for shopping there because of the sheer volume of people who came and went. Invariably, there would be someone there who I knew when I arrived, and before I left, there would be other friends coming and going. If there was a specific health issue, from upset stomach to sore muscles, Louise had a remedy. The income from the store allowed her to travel to the U.S. to study other methods of healing from such well known people as Hanna Kroeger among others. Upon graduating from University, her son came home and operated the store so Louise could advance her knowledge.


As time passed, Louise was away more frequently, but resuming her place in the store’s activities upon returning. She seemed indefatigable; teaching nutrition classes, herbal remedies, often reminding her students of the connection between body, mind and spirit. Her wealth of knowledge grew as she learned and then began teaching Reiki, Therapeutic Touch, Hanna Kroeger’s techniques and more. To many of us, it seemed Louise was learning just what we needed to know just before we needed it! She seemed to be two steps ahead all the time! When other retailers began selling nutritious, healthy products, Louise switched her focus completely to counselling and healing.


Always a devout Christian and Catholic, Louise peppered everything she did with Prayer and Meditation. As her business grew, so did her faith, and with that, journeys to other places to study. Returning to Sydney, Louise would share her new knowledge and experiences with her growing list of friends, students, and colleagues. When her husband took a job in California, she saw it not as a problem, but as an opportunity. She would visit him frequently and take workshops or attend seminars in such locations as Boulder Colorado or Sedona Arizona. She was able to attend lectures by her favourite speakers and always… ALL WAYS, she would share the experience with us.


In the early years of the new millennium, Louise and one of her friends both noticed a profusion of “runs” designed to raise money to find cures for diseases; cancer, MS, diabetes, etc, and both independently had an idea to host a run for awareness… Awareness that these diseases and illnesses could be avoided altogether through healthy eating and lifestyle. In 2004 the Run For Awareness was born. Through a series of classes focused on organic, vegan diet, exercise and healthy Spiritual attitude, they brought knowledge to the public. Most evenings, the classes were sold beyond capacity! Throughout it all, Louise was like the energiser bunny, and if she wasn’t setting up the venue, she was out collecting donations, making decorations, recruiting professional chefs to conduct cooking classes, or hosting meetings to delegate to the growing army of volunteers, all the while running a business of Healing others, teaching Reiki, Hanna Kroeger, and the many other activities her life entailed. In the limited time she was at home, she enjoyed her family which now included her three grandchildren.


I had studied Reiki in 1999, receiving Level 1, and had felt at that time as if that may be as far as I would go with it. Circumstances led to me deciding in 2006 to move on to Level 2. My first choice for a teacher was Louise. Her love and compassion were most evident in her eyes when the time came for my attunement. I was both overjoyed and humbled when I stood and received a silent embrace by this Powerful yet miniscule woman. She encouraged me to move on to Master level within a year. I still get very emotional when I remember that weekend.


Sometime shortly after I received my Master Reiki level from Louise, she mentioned a lump in her breast. She was so offhand in mentioning it that I didn’t give it much thought. It was not until last year that someone else told me that the cancer had advanced to the point where it was problematic. In her usual style however, Louise never complained, always said life was great and always gave of herself to others. On Tuesday, April 24, 2012, Louise finally reached the end of what she could give, and finally gave herself to her God and joined her parents and brother.


There were hundreds of people at the wake and funeral. Louise's closest friends and students formed a sort of honour guard in the church vestibule, and at her son’s house after the service, fond memories were recounted by all in attendance. Her family rose above their grief to tell us how proud they were of her accomplishments, confident her legacy would live on strongly through her students and the students of her students. All who were helped in some way by Louise have much to be grateful for, and the many of us who know each other today because we met through Louise comprise a network of Healers, educators, and facilitators unimaginable to anyone who hasn’t experienced Louise’s loving work. Louise was my Teacher and Mentor, but most of all, she was my Friend.


She will be missed by countless hundreds. We love you Louise!


~Still Wandering...