Remembrance Day

It snowed this weekend. In two days we got more snow than we did all of last winter. And just like every other year, this first snowfall means lots of work for Jim.  Cross country skiers are not a patient bunch, and they don't care if the ski centre is open or not, they want to ski! Jim really needed some help and while my plans were to spend a snowy Saturday cleaning and baking, I had mercy on him and agreed to help. I piled on the warm layers, dug out my snow boots and got ready for a long, cold day. 

There is a quiet rhythm to working outside in the winter and it is easy to get lost in one's thoughts. As I worked, I started thinking of when Jim and I were first married. We were flat broke and we did all that we could to get ahead. Jim would help me clean apartments and I would help him at the ski centre. Either way, it was hard work and we were cold and damp or sweaty and gross, depending on the season. Cleaning up filth or packing snow, we did what we had to do.

I don't know how we ever made it through those first couple of years. It seems so long ago - when really it isn't - but we have come a long way. 

Saturday was a fun day for us with plenty of laughter and silliness. I'm glad I went and helped, instead of staying home alone. Working together, the way we used to, reminded me of all the reasons I love my husband and why we make such a good team.

Morning

I saw the seagulls this morning circling in the early light.
As they soared above me I saw their underbellies gleaming,
As pink as the clouds that made their way across my sky.
The geese that flew away shown pink as well,
Seemingly Lit from within.
Brief and ephemeral.
But the crows that came to visit me were black as night.
And only the crows have stayed to keep me company.

Doing What I Can

Last night, before I could get my brain to 'turn off', I was thinking that there seem to be two kinds of people in this world.
The first group of people are able to see their own shortcomings and are trying to become a better person. People who are traveling the same path as I am; a path that is, hopefully, leading to better self-awareness and a more mindful existence.

The second group of people stand firm in their beliefs and will not bend and will not grow. They do not see themselves as people who are capable of making mistakes (and therefore cannot learn from them). The type of people who wait for the opportunity to scream "I'm right! I'm right! ha ha you are wrong!" They take such glee in seeing another's misfortune. These are the kind of people who scream at others in order to make their point.

The latter group are not the kind of people I want to be around. I want to be around those who are changing and evolving and learning from themselves and the world around them.

it is hard to keep yourself grounded. It is hard to be real. Every day I find myself getting caught by the old traps, getting stuck in old ways of thinking. Sometimes I find myself imagining the worst outcome before the trip has even started. But then I pull myself out, into the light, and refocus. At least I try to!

There I was, last night, having these thoughts and then this morning I check in on my favorite blogger, Jon Katz at Bedlam Farm, and find this great quote:

“No matter how scared, or tired, or ill you are; no matter how lost, or confused, or desperate you become; no matter how lonely, depressed or cranky you feel…if you just do what you can, with what you have, from right where you are, it will always be enough.”

- The Law Of Relevance,” the Universe of Mike Dooley

And that, my friends, are words to live by.

These flowers are doing all they can!

An update on our recent visitor, sadly he could not be saved and passed away.
Be free, my brief friend, fly away into the sun.

Crows, by Mary Oliver

From a single
grain they have
multiplied.
When you look
in the eyes of
one
you have seen
them all.

At the edges of
highways
they pick at limp
things.
They are
anything but
refined.

Or they fly out
over corn
like pellets of
black fire,
like overlords.

Crow is crow,
you say.
What else is
there to say?
Drive down any
road,

take a train or
an airplane
across the
world, leave
your old life
behind,

die and be born
again~
wherever you
arrive
they’ll be there
first,


glossy and
rowdy
and
indistinguishable.
The deep
muscle of the
world.

Our visitor

We had an unexpected visitor Monday night. The Mutt was out in the yard and alerted me to his presence. At first, I wasn't sure what was going on, and was a bit spooked. But once I saw him sitting there, on the ground, struggling to move away from me, I knew I had to do something to help him. Immediately, I put the Mutt in the house and called Jim out to help me.

Who was this injured, mystery guest? A beautiful visitor from the sky, a crow. There he sat, staring back at me and Jim and trying to scoot away. It was obvious that this bird could not fly as he was having trouble just hopping. I know we have a very reputable wildlife rehab centre here, so I called them right away. The lady who answered the phone said she was leaving work in just a few minutes and if we could get him into a box, she would come and pick him up. I assured her we could and that would look after him until she arrived.

Jim went and grabbed a chair and parked himself about 5 feet from the bird in black. I went to find a box and a sheet to use to catch him. When I came back out, Jim was still sitting there talking to the bird. One of the things I really enjoy about Jim, is his compassion towards animals. Whenever we see an animal squished on the side of the road, he always reminds me to say a prayer for them. He is such a softy and I love him for it!

The poor bird was desperate to avoid us but was unable to do much more than hop a few feet away and stare at a tree stump. I told him how handsome he was and that he shouldn't worry because help was on its way. He really was quite stunning, his feathers were many shades of blue and black and purple. It's not often that you have the opportunity to look into a crow's eyes and its not something I will soon forget.

The rehab centre employee finally arrived and I explained that I thought he may have been shot with a BB gun. She said they would look after him and that if his injuries could be repaired they would like to release him back into my yard. Apparently, crows have very complex family structures, including cousins and aunts and uncles. Of course I told her we would love to see that happen. I'll have to call them Tuesday and see what was wrong with him and how he is doing. I hope they can fix him up and get him on the mend, he's a brave bird.

I have always loved crows and make it a point to greet them when I see them. If I had to be a bird, I would be a crow. They always make everything seem like a party, even if they are just eating some garbage!

Remember

The path that I am currently on is one that has been building for years. Recently, I was telling a friend that, from the ages of 18 to about 34, I spent more years in therapy than not. Years well spent. And still every day is a journey to me becoming a more patient and forgiving person. Every day I make conscious choices about how I will react to the world around me. Every day I find myself reflecting on how I felt and what I did. Some days are better than others, but, to paraphrase Socrates, is an unexamined life worth living?

I started this blog as an attempt to chronicle my quest to live a more mindful life. It isn't easy to turn the darkness into light, but it is oh so worth it. You have to be alert and be aware of every little thing. Sometimes the light is so bright it blinds you and sometimes it is so dim you can scarcely see it.

I had a dream, a while back, where I was at work and the power went out. I was alone with all these dogs and, for some reason, I was terrified. I remember screaming for help and pleading for the lights to go back on. In the midst of the chaos I yelled out "the light is coming from inside you" over and over. And of course, then I woke up. In that dream the truth was revealed to me. The answer to the questions that plague me appeared and it came from my own lips.

I have a long way to go and I am happy to be traveling, even happier to know that I am not alone on this voyage. Best of all, I was given good directions:

Sometimes, when it is the darkest you have to remember that the light is coming from within yourself.

Pen and Ink

Last night, as I lay in bed, some thoughts that have been rolling around my brain gelled together. I rolled over and grabbed the small memo pad and pen that I keep stashed for moments like this. I didn't want to turn the light on and wake Jim up, so I tried to write carefully and penned a few pages. I had planned on grabbing my notebook this morning and writing up a draft during nap-time at work, but I forgot it on the nightstand.

Imagine my surprise when I grabbed the pad and flipped it open and found just five words instead of three pages. For a moment I thought perhaps I had dreamed the whole incident, as I have been having strange dreams lately (Bill Clinton made an appearance recently). But no, the evidence was there, the beginning of my train of thought, "The journey I am currently..." and then my pen ran out of ink.

How could this have happened? This was the preface to a best-seller and now the words are gone. Straight from the pen, onto the paper and into the universe; invisible thoughts about life and light flowing out into the night.

I'll have to try again, this is something I have been mulling over for a few weeks now. I know it's in there waiting to come out. Tonight, I will make sure the pen has ink.

The sunset holds a promise.

Morning Light

For many years I have been a faithful public radio listener (good liberal that I am), NPR while I lived in the states and now CBC. I also used to watch a lot of CNN, too much perhaps. I suppose I believed that it made me smart or well-rounded. I took pride in being at the top of the news cycle. And I married a man who is devoted to local news, he watches close to two hours of local news daily on TV. It was getting to be a bit much.
Recently, I made the switch to CBC2, which is CBC's music station. They play a very eclectic mix of current singer-songwriters (with great classic artists mixed in) during the morning and afternoon drive times. Mid-day they play classical music which reminds of my Sunday mornings at my dad's house.

Listening to music in the mornings creates a calmer me. I find I am more relaxed on my way to work and pay more attention to my surroundings; noticing a rabbit racing across someone's yard or the beautiful sunrise. It is a much more pleasant way to start my day.

There are so many issues and ideas that the news media bombards us with and these are things that are out of our control. Yet so many people allow the problems of the world to control them. I have been making a conscious effort to be the master of my own thoughts, to write (and in some cases re-write) the narrative of my life, and I can't allow the media to manipulate me.

I don't mean to suggest that I have stuck my head in the sand and lost interest in anything but myself. I have always been interested in world events and politics, I just have to not allow myself to be all-consumed by it. Every day I want to look around and see the beauty around me. Take a look for yourself.

Summertime Blues

A few weekends ago, at the lake, we drove past a field full of yellow flowers. It was a beautiful sight. Jimmy asked me what kind of flowers they were and I responded tansy.  Then I recalled how tansy heralds the height of summer. When it appears and is in full bloom, you know it is all downhill after that and fall is on its way. My interesting tidbit drew groans and everyone agreed that that was a pretty depressing thought and why would I mention it?

Sure enough, this past weekend the flowers weren't as vibrant and some of the foliage has already turned brown. Just as soon as we get comfortable with summer, fall rears its sleepy head and looks around. The evenings have turned cooler and the chorus of complaints is getting louder. But you won't hear any from me. The change in seasons doesn't really bother me anymore. I look forward to all of the seasons and the delights they bring. There are crisp fall nights with warm fires; winter's icy cleanness and beautiful snow and spring's promise of new life. Each season brings me joy in different ways. 

Yesterday, I had to put on a hoodie for the first time in months and I loved it. Warm and cozy and comfortable - how can you go wrong with that? I don't think there is any need to complain about the things we have no control over, it just saps time and energy. And if the weather is your biggest complaint - then consider yourself lucky! I know I am lucky, because I am about to pull a blueberry pie out of the oven.

Tansy is an interesting flower with little 'buttons' for flowers. In spite of the bad news it brings, I think it is quite cheery and besides, it makes an excellent insect repellent!

Vet Stories

Spent the evening at the vet with a sick mutt. One of the joys of having a lab is that they love to eat and get such real joy from doing so. The old mutt decided that today was a good day for a smorgasbord a la garbage. I am usually a very calm and collected person when it comes to that kind of stuff - and the mutt keeps us busy with that kind of stuff - but not tonight. It was all I could do to keep myself together. When the vet finally said that they thought she would be fine and would send her home with some meds, I was so relieved. But when I went to call Jimmy and tell him the news, I just crumbled and  began to sob, in a waiting room full of people. Maybe it was relief? Maybe I am just so afraid of losing her? She is already older than Sophie ever was. I can't explain it. My heart just ached and broke open right there.

But I wasn't alone. There was a two month old kitten with a heart defect, who won't live to be a year old; a dog who had been vomiting sand for two days and another dog (who I knew from work) that had a bot fly larvae in her chest. Good times. The sand dog - who was so sweet - was there with her 'mom' and her 'sister'. The girl looked to be about 10 and was getting really worried about her dog. The mom told her not to cry because then she would cry. I agreed and told her I would cry too - not so far a stretch as I had already done so. We proceeded to tell funny stories of things our dogs have eaten - which kept us all distracted. When the bot fly dog came out and joined us - we all became engrossed with her cuteness and forgot about our problems.

It was such a real moment; strangers bound together listening to one another's stories and offering a sympathetic ear. I'm glad those women and their dogs were there with me tonight, although I'm sure all of us would have preferred to have been home with healthy beasts. I am home now, with a snoring mutt, and hoping that she will pass whatever needs passing.

Bot Fly Baby

Slowing Down the Brain Train

I realize I have been pretty lax about writing lately, and I am sure many of you were thinking that the newness had worn off of blogging and I had gotten bored with it. Not true. My main problem has been my new smart phone. I've had it just shy of 2 weeks and find it so distracting. What do you mean there's an app for that!? My dear Jimmy was afraid I would become addicted to it and in a way he might be correct - but, in all fairness, I am only addicted to solitaire and picture collage apps!

I have been thinking about what I need to write about, but it is still fairly jumbled up in my head. I was hoping if I gave the concepts enough time that they would sort themselves out, but it seems that isn't going to happen. It's hard to verbalize ideas about sleep and dreams, mostly because my dreams and sleep patterns are a bit convoluted to begin with. As a child, I would fall asleep with a book in my lap and my eyes open - I freaked my parents out more than a few times. Now, as an adult, I have great difficulty falling asleep. In my process to becoming a more mindful person I am realizing how much my thoughts control me, especially at bedtime.

While I lay in bed, listening to Jim sleep, my mind races from thought to thought. I have complete conversations with myself about everything and anything. 'We' talk about things I said during the day and how I could have phrased them better. We'll talk about what I should say in my blog, what excuses I might make for not having written in a week. Then I will have to rehash the wording used in said make-believe excuses. It all gets very complicated and we go round and round for a half hour or more. I just can't seem to get my brain to turn off.

Recently, I have been trying to focus on the visuals inside my head, instead of the words that are bouncing around. It is by no means fool proof but it does help. Every time my brain train begins to race I concentrate on some sort of image - it could be a flower I photographed, or an imaginary vista, or an object from my home. Last night I concentrated on a bit of detail from a quilted wall-hanging I purchased from Maria Wulf. Maria, by the way, is a very talented fiber artist and blogger (you should check her out).

I find this lovely sun quite comforting. It speaks to me of the light I am consciously seeking - my light in the darkness, one might say. I had a very interesting dream the other night about the light, but that will be a story for another day.

"Shoulds" and acceptance

First of all, I'd like to say that I realize I should be cleaning my house right now. There are so many "shoulds" going through my brain at the moment, and a few "shouldn'ts" as well. But I have to figure out a way to get some things off of my chest without hurting the people I love. Sounds like a bit of a pickle...

There are times when you know what is the best thing to do. Times when it should be easy to say Hey, why don't we..., but you find yourself in a position where you are unable to speak your mind. Times when it should be obvious to all parties involved what the correct course of action is, but everyone is afraid to say or do anything that might offend another person.

Why do we have to pussyfoot around our concerns and emotions? Why are we afraid of others reactions? Why are people so easily slighted by true and honest sentiments? If I feel very strongly about an issue and can address the issue an a calm and polite manner, shouldn't I be able to do so?


I look at the mutt, sleeping next to me, and see such straightforwardness in her spirit. She is always who she is and is always honest with those around her. And in return the people in her life accept her for who she is. They acknowledge her faults and do not make excuses for her bad behaviours. If only life was that easy for people.


Perhaps it is. Perhaps I should take a more canine approach to life. Say what needs to be said and let others respond however they please. The people in my life will either accept what I have to say or they won't. If my crazy mutt can find acceptance maybe I can too.


But for now, I have to go and dust my house. 

Recharge

I've been ignoring my garden lately which isn't like me, normally I take a lot of pride in it. But as I've mentioned before, it has been so damn hot lately, that I haven't had any motivation to do anything. Today, I decided I would get up early and go out and look after it because it's become pretty obvious that it won't look after itself. Surprisingly, it really was not too out of control and nothing that a little TLC couldn't fix. 
What I realized, once I got out there, was I needed some TLC too!  


Since this summer has been so abnormally warm we haven't done much lately, except sit in the veranda and enjoy cold beverages. We also haven't been to the lake in a few weeks and I don't think I realized how much I missed being outside with the bugs and the dirt and the sweat beading on your brow (all that good stuff). The important thing for me was simply being out there in the garden. And as Wendell Berry says:

One of the most important resources that a garden makes available for use, is the gardener's own body. A garden gives the body the dignity of working in its own support. It is a way of rejoining the human race.

I guess I take for granted how lucky I am, that I am able to escape the city and head out to the country.  Even when I was a kid, growing up in the suburbs of New York City, I went to my dad's house in the mountains nearly every other weekend. As a result, I was able to lose myself in the backwoods and that probably saved my life. I really enjoyed being outside and I spent a lot of my time by myself. I had my little forts and would hang out in the woods with my dog. I had my imaginary friends and I loved collecting salamanders for 'temporary' pets. It was a crucial part of me becoming me and I think it's something that many kids today don't get to do.


I look at the kids in my neighbourhood and my nieces and nephews and see that they don't spend time outside. Basically they watch videos and play video games and they text their friends, but I rarely see them playing outside. For example, even when my nieces and nephews are at the lake, it would never occur to them to go for a walk or to go exploring or say let's go see if we can find some berries to pick. When they get hot they will go swimming, but then it's back inside to watch a movie.  Thankfully, my littlest niece and nephew love to go on a nature walk with auntie, but the older ones - they just aren't interested. And it isn't just my in-laws, it's an epidemic.


Spending time outdoors is really important, I know it has made a big difference in my life. Hopefully, we going to the lake this weekend and I can recharge my spiritual batteries.

Let's go for a walk!

Keep on Rockin'

It's funny how music can bring you back to a particle moment in time. Today, for the first time in probably 5 years, I heard the song "Anchorage" by Michelle Shocked and it immediately brought me to tears. Later, out in the yard, the lyrics kept running through my head. I closed my eyes and felt the breeze and the hot sun on my face and - bam! - there I was, a brokenhearted, 27 year old crying for lost love. All of the emotions came flooding back and felt so real. The pain almost enough to break my heart all over again.

And then the phone rings and I am jolted back to the NOW. The 27 year old slips back behind the blinds and waits for her next chance to humble me. To remind me to not get too complacent in the life I have created. How did that young woman become me? What a journey she has been on and what a transformation has occurred. Of course that young woman has always been there, under the layers, but to have her rush out like she did was a shock. Pretty amazing stuff.

Music has been a safe place for me to land when things are rough. Letting someone else's lyrics cry out my pain and sadness has played an important part in healing my wounded psyche. I am tied to some songs and there are times I may turn away because the emotions are just too raw.  On a day like today, it was a joy to re-embrace the woman I was and be happy for the one I am becoming.

Endeavors

Last week was Thoreau's birthday and I read the following quote from him, and it has really stuck with me.

"I learned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours."

Over the weekend, Jim and I went to a friend's house for a BBQ and live jam. He lives about 45 minutes outside the city, on a few acres. Everyone was encouraged to camp, which we did, and that gave me the opportunity to explore his land a little bit. It's a nice piece of property and they have some beautiful gardens. I crossed through their tree line and happened upon a beautiful meadow. I thought to myself, this is the kind of place that I want to live. It looks like the perfect place for Jim and I to raise a couple of donkeys and goats, and maybe a few chickens. And besides - it's gorgeous!

As I lay in bed last night, trying to fall asleep, I was thinking about buying a farm and how Jim and I would make it work. Will we have to wait until we retire? Will I be too old then to work a small hobby farm? I mean, I'm not going to retire for another 20 years! So many questions. But then I caught myself and remembered Thoreau's quote.  I just have to keep moving forward and believe (believing is key) in the reality of my donkey farm. 

I know that spending my time and energy worrying, about what may or may not happen, is such a horrible waste of both. I still struggle with 'not' worrying, mostly because I come from a LONG line of worriers. I have to believe that this will happen for us and of course I have to lay some groundwork. We are doing our best to save some money, and are committed to living below our means. Yes, below and not within our means - we say below, because we make a conscious choice to not spend as much as we could. It helps that we are Winnipeggers - frugal to a fault! But both of us are on board with how we want the rest of our lives to pan out. (And Jim is finally warming up to my dream of donkeys - I introduce him to all that we meet - which makes me very happy.)

One thing I do know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is that things are going to unfold the way they were meant to unfold. The universe has a way of working stuff out, otherwise how do you explain that decided to marry the old bear the day I met him?

A Better Place

I stumbled across an article today about a man who created a beautiful tribute to his wife after she passed away. A farmer in England planted thousands of oak trees and created a glade in the shape of a heart. It truly is an amazing love story and what a beautiful way to honour someone so dear to you. I shared the article with Jim and the story really touched him. Touched him so deeply that he was moved to tears and held out his hands to grab mine. We hugged and Jim said he would do the same for me.

It is moments like these that reinforce that I made the right decision seven years ago, when I accepted his proposal the day we met. I am so lucky to have found such a generous, compassionate and loving man. He has made such a difference in my life and motivates me to be a better person every day. For a long time I was living a life steeped in negativity and bad habits. But when I met Jim, he saw something inside of me that even I didn't know I had. The poem that was read at our wedding continues to resonate - louder than ever before.

I love you because you

Are helping me to make

Of the lumber of my life

Not a tavern

But a temple.

Out of the works

Of my every day

Not a reproach

But a song.

I love you

Because you have done

More than any creed

Could have done

To make me good.

And more than any fate

Could have done

To make me happy.

You have done it

Without a touch,

Without a word,

Without a sign.

You have done it

By being yourself.

Over the years, I have struggled with letting go of anger and resentment and feel that I am finally making progress in that area. Jim continues to inspires me with his positive outlook and gentle nature. He has always encouraged me and the changes that are occurring in my life are a direct result of his support and love. I want to be the best person I can and I especially want to be the best wife I can be. And as fiber artist and blogger, Maria Wulf, said on her blog recently "I know it makes the world a better place." 


Maria, by the way, also serves as an inspiration to me. When I am getting stuck in old ways of thinking or having trouble sleeping I focus on the beautiful wall hanging I bought from her. It keeps me grounded and gives me focus. 

Laughing in a Sea of Donkeys

Smile

It's been really hot for about a week or so, keep in mind that I live in Canada and we don't "do" hot here. We've been trying to stay cool with lots of water and the ceiling fans on full speed. So far, so good.
The dog, however, is getting bored. I relented tonight and took her for a walk despite the temps. It's my favourite time to go for a walk because it is that curious hour of dusk when you can see into people's houses. I really enjoy catching glimpses into other homes. Observing someone washing the dishes alone in the kitchen, or sitting around talking with friends, even just seeing what they might be watching on TV is fascinating for me.
Tonight what I noticed is how closed up the houses were on my street. All the windows drawn and lights off. The only noise was their air conditioners humming steadily. Porches and pools were empty, everyone inside enjoying their forced air. PD and I wandered the neighbourhood, seemingly alone except for a rabbit and a late night robin. I picked some raspberries from the house down the street, which were amazingly sweet. (I actually feel bad for the berries - every year they are left to rot, even though the owners claim they want them). 
We kept on moving, enjoying the light breeze and when we got to the corner, I noticed something different. The old sign across the street had been refreshed. I have to admit, I am not sure what it used to say. I think it  used to advertise acupuncture and crystals. But the sign was in such disrepair that I believed it was for a defunct home business. Whatever the case might be, they have painted the sign and put up a new message for passers-by.

Having seen their handiwork tonight, I know that I will take their advice to heart every day. My hope is that the many motorists who pass by will see it and do the same. I hope they are not asleep and blind to the sign's simple beauty. Those of us who are already awake and believing, will smile and nod. I think that there are more of us than I first suspected.

Fringe Benefits

Last year I made the decision to change career paths and do something that I really enjoyed. I was fortunate to find a great job working at a neighbourhood doggie day care. I have always loved animals, especially dogs (and donkeys, but that is another story). There was quite a bit of a learning curve for me, but I think I have settled in and found my groove.  There has been an unexpected fringe benefit to this job, something that is becoming one of my favourite aspects of my job.


I spend a lot of time by myself when I am at work. I have some great co-workers, but the majority of my time I am on my own, except for the dogs, lots of dogs - some days there may be 25 or 30 that I look after. I play with the dogs, sing to them, dance with them and, of course, I talk to them. There is ample time during the endless rounds of fetch to go deep inside my head and mull over ideas or work out anything that may be bothering me. 


When I first moved to Winnipeg I found myself alone quite a bit. Jim was working and I was visa-less and unable to work in Canada. I tried to keep busy as best I could, but it was hard to stay upbeat. I had moved to a new city, in a new country, and didn't know many people. I had always enjoyed my alone time - but this was different, this was depressing. We had some hard times when we were newlyweds, I don't think either of us imagined how difficult it would be in the beginning. 


But things got better for us and the dark days lifted. Now I am able enjoy having time to myself, time to think and process and reflect. Sometimes the answers come to us easily and sometimes they need to be forcibly extracted from the detritus in our mind.  Either way, you have to be able to be alone in your own head to find out what is in there.

Whatcha thinking about?

No Trespassing

Lately we have been listening to Neil Young and Crazy Horse's latest album Americana. 
I happened to be walking past a record store (remember those? they were nice) on the day the album was released. Since we are planning to go and see Neil when he comes to town later this fall, I popped in and bought the CD. I hadn't heard anything about the album, so when we played it a few days later I was blown away.
Neil has really created something special this time. His dark renditions of songs we all grew up singing give you chills and get stuck in your head for a long time. In the past few weeks I have caught myself singing "Oh Susanna", "Clementine" and even "God Save the Queen". But the song that has grabbed me and spoken to me has been "This Land is Your Land".
I think we are all familiar with this old Arlo Guthrie song, and learned to sing it in school. I was surprised to find out that even Canadians have their own version. Hearing Neil's version, I realized I had never learned all of the verses.

As I went walking I saw a sign there

And on the sign it said "No Trespassing."

But on the other side it didn't say nothing,

That side was made for you and me.

Nobody living can ever stop me,

As I go walking that freedom highway;

Nobody living can ever make me turn back

This land was made for you and me.

In the squares of the city, In the shadow of a steeple;

By the relief office, I'd seen my people.

As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking,

Is this land made for you and me?

"Nobody living can ever stop me." I have had to think about that phrase a lot lately. Sometimes you find yourself in a situation with irrational people. People who are so entrenched in their own belief system that they can not (and will not) see any other view but their own. People who are so blind to the truth that they will scream at you to "SHUT UP" rather than look around and see what is really happening. 
Over the past few weeks I have been in that situation a number of times and my response has been to let them rant and carry on instead of trying to reason with them. In the past I would have kept insisting that they were wrong and I was right, but no longer. My views and ideas have nothing to do with what 'they' think and believe. I can not control other people just as I will not allow myself to be controlled by others. It isn't always easy to walk away from situations like these, but it is worth it and necessary for self-preservation.

This land was made for you and me

Wake up!

In my mail today there was a pamphlet from the kind Jehovah's Witnesses (too bad I missed them). I was about to just toss it in the recycling, when the headline caught my eye.

"Would you like to wake up every morning with happy, positive thoughts?" 

Yes, yes I would and believe it or not - most days I do. I am blessed to share my bed with my dear husband and a big old mutt. And every morning, every one, my dear hubby, Jim, says to me "Good morning, pretty, did you sleep well?". Not hard to be happy with that, is it? I know he says it because he means it and being loved so much by someone - in spite of all my flaws - truly makes me happy.

When we got married, almost 6 years ago, my father pulled Jim aside and warned him what I was like in the morning. I think the word my dad used to describe me was "bear". Jim took it to heart and was careful with me for a long time. Plenty has happened since we were newlyweds, but most importantly Jim has showed me how to be happy. How to be at peace with myself and to see that life is good, I am good and love is everywhere.

I may not always sleep well (and believe you me I don't) but I am responsible for how I feel in the morning. Ironically, last night I tossed and turned thinking of the blog. What was I going to write about today, was I going to post everyday or just when the mood struck me? All night long "what ARE you going to write about!!" When I woke up this morning (greeted by Jim's warmth and the dog's wet kisses) I realized that the blog would take care of itself and I could relax. I knew at some point the idea would come to me and I would follow its lead. What I didn't know that my inspiration would come from the Jehovah's Witnesses.

Beginnings

Well,  I am going to take a giant leap here and expose myself. I have been mulling this idea around for quite some time and have recently been encouraged by my favourite blogger, Jon Katz at Bedlam Farm. He didn't encourage me in a personal way, but he provides me with more guidance than I think he would ever expect. 
It seems that my brain is changing (some have suggested that this is due to perimenopause) and I am seeing the world in a new way. I feel quite at ease with myself and my life. I feel like things are clicking into place and making sense. Sort of like getting enough pieces of the jigsaw together to see the bigger picture and fill in the blanks.


Why have I felt (for so long) that I am not good enough. Certainly, I am not a good enough writer. Certainly, my photos are amateurish. My knitting is full of mistakes. My house is never clean enough. All of those things and more. We all hear the voices. It can feel quite confusing, all these voices coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once and telling us how to be, how to think and how to feel. And most importantly - how to feel about ourselves. But are any of those things true? and who decides what is good enough?

In the end, it all comes down to me. 


So, I have decided to let myself decide. 

My light in the darkness.