Space Exploration

Space …

The final frontier.

But not out there …

No …

Inside … here!

Space to roam

Around my


To mend what’s

Broken —

Make it


Space to


And room to


The frontier of

My Soul

To know.


Very stream of consciousness, this thought.

Seems to me most people are all too consumed with exploring the mysteries “out there” when the mysteries that make up who they are as individuals are so much more immediate and, dare I say, interesting.

I’m currently exploring my own inner Space, and facing down my share of skulking aliens — casting them from my orbit and into the proverbial Black Hole, hopefully never to be seen again.

But, you know how it is … there’s often a sequel. Fortunately the aliens’ story lines are getting weaker with each episode … 😉

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

The Pool

As poems go this is pretty deep, written a couple of years ago when I was staring into the dark abyss of my pain while involved in some rather gruelling counselling.

I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’ve been seeking help to rid myself of a life time of emotional baggage. Doing so has been one of the best decisions of my life.

Fortunately, I’m not teetering on the pool’s edge anymore. I’ve dealt with the worst of the agony. Now, with the support of some important teachers and mentors I am focused on living … thriving.

I am grateful.


The Pool

I am standing at the edge,

Staring into an abyss of pain.

One step, just one step more

And to the dark pool I drop

Like a stone heading for

Rock bottom. There

Impact meets emotion

And a swell of the surreal

Circles in ever-growing

Impulses around me,

Rising and falling

With a cleansing rain

Of tears

Until it makes waves

No more and again the

Pool is still.




Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy 🙂

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

Doubts and Troubles

I’ve been on a rather arduous journey to self-awareness the past several years.

As anyone who’s boarded that train will tell you it’s a journey rife with doubt, confusion, imagined troubles, sadness, gloom, joy, sorrow, elation, depression, discouragement, victory, relief, anger, grief, pain, ups, downs, happiness … you get the picture. It’s just been an h-e-double hockey sticks of a ride, and I am under no illusion that it’s over. As long as there is life there is room for more self-awareness … as long as you board that train, that is.

And really, I’m okay with that. I’m much happier with where I am now than where I was when this journey began. I just wish I’d thought to leave the station called “Stuck” sooner.

But then, I appear to be a late bloomer anyway, so the timing for all of this is likely perfect … as perfect goes.

Better to be late than never arrive at all.

How’s your journey going?


Doubts and Troubles

Sometimes everything seems clear;

All doubts and troubles disappear.

While other times around me tease

Those thoughts that drop me to my knees.

They toy with circuits in my mind,

So to my self I am unkind,

And make me feel like I am dead

Inside to all my soul’s been fed.

Self-preservation numbs all sense

And life is lived in self-defense.

But as we know this is a lie

For in this mode inside we die.

Tis best to feel what life’s about

It gives us strength, inside and out.

Then thoughts will have a chance to clear

While doubts and troubles disappear.


Thanks for reflecting with me …


Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

Sit Still

I sit.

Healing requires it.

I sit





I sit.




This is really random. Hot off the grey matter press this morning.

I have spent a lot of the past few months sitting still. Healing.

I was a restless child. My mother never understood why.

But we know the truth now. With this awareness I can sit. Still.

At least … I’m practicing.


Can you sit still?

Be well …

Dorothy 🙂

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012 

Angel Song … The Healing Glory of Beautiful Music

Music has always been an important part of my life.

I grew up in a home filled with beautiful music. My mother, a classically trained singer and single-mother of two with a career based in England, brought home the bacon by performing and recording opera on the international stage. Her music life was bound to influence me and, most certainly, it has.

My own musical expression first found an outlet through choral singing, and culminated in a 12-season stint (and we had to re-audition every year) as a soprano in Canada’s oldest and most prestigious symphonic choral organization, the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir. With 180 voices it was, and still is, the country’s largest choir. Singing among its many accomplished amateur and professional singers, I revelled in being part of something so larger-than-life. Part of the mystique for me was the notion that we were all of such diverse backgrounds and yet could put our differences aside and come together to create incredibly embracing and beautiful sound. The glory of music joined us as one for an experience that was large and soul-restoring, not just for us but the audience who came to listen.

In fact, I’ll never forget the first down beat at the first rehearsal I attended. Elmer Iseler, an iconic character in Canadian choral music for decades and the choir’s resident conductor, led us in for the national anthem. The ensuing wall of sound overwhelmed me such that for a moment I couldn’t bring myself to sing. It was as if in that moment I was cleansed of my worldly cares and the shock of my new spiritual nakedness had left me breathless. Then reality set in as we set sail on the horrendously difficult Bach Magnificat. I had never seen, or sung, so many notes in my life!

During my years with the choir I had the privilege of singing Handel’s Messiah (more than 50 times,) Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, the Brahm’s Requiem, Walton’s Belshazzar’s Feast, Verdi’s Requiem, to name only a few.

We also performed myriad a cappella pieces. The purity of the human voice on its own in harmonic line and dissonance is, perhaps, the most sublime musical experience of all. Everything from Canadian R. Murray Schafer’s avant garde “Sun” to Henry Purcell’s reverent “Hear My Prayer, O Lord” to Morten Lauridsen’s mysterious “O Magnum Mysterium” launched my spirit to heights that can only be felt through experiencing the happy confluence of inspired composition, haunting vocal intonation and glorious sound. It is healing, perhaps, in a way nothing else can be.

All of which led me to write this poem.

Angel Song

Echo thou soft angelic song

Through hallowed halls

And wend thy wistful way

O’er hearts deep bruised

This mortal day.

Veil fresh-fallen tears

Of the world-sick soul

With heaven’s healing balm.

Salve the spirit, elixir of calm.


Though I left the choir in 2001 to pursue other musical interests, my love for choral music remains and finds release through attending Mendelssohn Choir concerts and listening to favoured choral recordings.

One of my favourite modern choral composers is American, Eric Whitacre.

In 2010, Whitacre undertook a unique project to form a 185-voice international virtual choir. The resultant recording of his luscious and moving “Lux Aurumque” was posted to YouTube and went viral.  As I listen and watch this musical cyber miracle it reminds me of all the magical hours I spent singing in one of the world’s great choirs and the unifying and healing force of great music.

In case you haven’t experienced Whitacre’s incredible virtual choir masterpiece I’ve added a link — click ” here.”

Yours in music …

Be well …


Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012


I had a close friend in mind when writing this poem of the same generation of others recently shared in this blog. It wasn’t until several years later, after experiencing divorce  and seeking help to deal with personal issues that I realized the subject of this poem was actually me.

I’m pleased to say I have come through with flying colours …


Upon her comfort

Perch she sits,

Gazing out to

Horizons golden-

Veiled, and longing

For the gilt touch

Upon her furrowed brow.

Not so far, the flight ~

But, ah, so


The nest now but empty,

A cagéd prison

Of her untested fear.

But, the sun ~

The sun does so beckon

And the warmth

Upon her back

Would be so fine.

Thou agéd wings unfold,

Perchance the light upon this

Solo flight to shine.


Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

The Art of Veil Painting — “The Artist as Singer”

Veil painting is a meditative art form based on the work of Austrian philosopher, social reformer, architect, esotericist and developer of the Waldorf education system, Rudolf Steiner. He believed in the healing qualities of colour, the nature of this colour “therapy” being to stimulate different emotional responses for each individual.

In veil painting, watercolours are thinned to a very light value and wet colours are applied one at a time only over dry colours.

With no preconceived idea of the final result, the artist patiently layers “veils” of colour one over another in varying patterns, never repeating exactly the same shapes in the same place. Ultimately the veils of colour will reveal an image or motif which the artist may then bring more into consciousness.

I took up veil painting several years ago during art therapy and fell in love with it. I loved its mystery which reminded me of my fondness for the semi-precious stone, Labradorite. At first glance the stone looks grey, but move it about under the light and it comes to life as a miracle of colour.

And so it is with veil painting. At first glance it looks to be only a mess of colour, but as one meditates upon it the shapes and patterns and colours start to come to life.

This is one of my early works, done when I was a member of a vocal trio called “ChoirGirlz.” The image reflected in this painting, to me at least, is a light silhouette of the profile of a female singer holding a microphone, her dark hair swept back as if the wind has blown through it. The woman is me and that’s why I call this painting “The Artist as Singer.” This image was not intentioned into the painting — it simply came into being as the work progressed. It is a reflection of the journey to self-awareness — ever-unfolding and enlightening to those who can see with a soft eye and an open heart.

I invite you to engage the singer, but encourage you to be satisfied with whatever comes into focus for you.

If you find her, let me know …

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

Work In Progress

This is another poem I wrote many years ago as I was beginning my journey to self-awareness. A painful time, it was of some benefit to remind myself I was not the pain I bore, but caught only in the shadow of it. I began to think of myself as a work in progress. This made the nature of any discomfort more present and passing and far easier to bear.

Still does …

Work in Progress

I am a work in progress.
The canvas of my life
Stretches across the easel
Of time, anticipating each nurturing
Brush stroke by the Masterful Artist.

I am a landscape ~
An ever-unfolding vista of colours,
And shapes and light.
The shadows of clouds
Float in, and out,
Dispersed by bright sunshine,
Irreverent and true.

The Masterful Artist reveals
Mysterious patterns and
Miracles with a
Flick of the conscience, or
A long, deep stroke of thought.
The brush of a shadow ~
The sweep of radiant light ~
Depth to denote character,
And dappled sunlight to
Delight the soul.

The Masterful Artist’s strokes
Are sure, each measure
Of the art-child completed
In its time ~
Contemplated and recorded.
Mistakes are washed away,
Remembered no more.
Flaws are embraced to
Profess a perfectly natural appeal.

I am a landscape ~
Time rolls across my verdent fields,
Tickled by morning dew drops ~
Each tender blade of
Life reaching beyond
Tomorrow ~ to grow ~
To stretch toward the measure
Of its creation.

I am a work in progress.
The canvas of my life
Gradually reveals a story
Spun by the Masterful Artist.
I am a Masterpiece.


Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012


In this world of masks
The velvet whisper of
Truth is muffled in
Coarse shadows veiling
The face of life.
Far easier, it is, to hide
Behind a mask than
Abide one’s own truth.
With too many questions,
And too few answers
We march on blindly
And uneasily into
Territories not our
Own; and never to
Be our own.
So much more inviting
It is to be what we
Are not, than to discover
Who we really are.

Sometimes we choose
Our masks, but often
We do not;
Instead placed upon our care-
Worn faces by others
And circumstances,
And never really knowing why.

* * *

And what masks?
Pretense-driven self-
Effacing vices to keep
Out the kind ~ to
Deny feelings, to
Bolster ego and to
Hide our truths from
Others, and from

Pervades the masked
And as much as we
Believe no one sees, the
Opposite is true.
Truth always prevails,
In this world of masks.


I wrote this poem several years ago as I was starting down the road to finding my truth.

While stepping out from behind the mask has been, and still is, uncomfortable at times, I’d rather see my self in the mirror than the person others unwittingly created in their own image.

I am more than the survivor I’ve been. It’s my turn to thrive.

The journey continues …

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

The Voyage

Upon life’s billowing seas
My vessel is swept
Windward. I am
And swell-swallowed,
And surge-whipped.
I steer my battered
But unbroken ship
Upon the crashing waves  ~
Afloat I remain.
My vessel salt-stained
And wind-lashed,
Yet a survivor.
In calmer waters,
Renewed in  purpose,
Resolved, am I, to press on.
The map is charted
And though off course blown
Yet will I arrive.
It is my destiny.


I wrote this poem almost 14 years ago, yet to me the sentiment still holds true.

This vessel that is my life has certainly had its ups and down since the penning of this verse. Divorce, depression, flourishing new relationship, loss, gain, etc., have all played their parts in honing and shaping me to be the person I am today. And no doubt this refining process will continue going forward.

We don’t always know why things happen in our lives the way they do. But I can say from my own experience that as challenging as life has been for me sometimes the rewards for staying the course, through storm and on calm seas, have been worth it.

Of course, the journey is not over quite yet … Stay tuned …

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012