At a Loss for Words

Another month has flown by since Christmas and I haven’t written a spec…of anything. It’s not that nothing is happening in my life or the world that I couldn’t comment on, but nothing has tugged at my shirtsleeve and said “You have to write about this!”. So what is one to do? After years of writing I finally have a small following – which I truly appreciate – but I’ve had nothing to offer you as of late…not even any photographs. Some might term this lack of inspiration writer’s block, but to be honest I think it has a lot more to do with my daily routine which has changed significantly since September.

After years of staying home with my kids, I decided it was time to rejoin the workforce. That decision is, of course, easier than actually joining the work force. I worked briefly in retail but when I was given only evenings and weekends (which were the only times I had to spend with my kids), I decided the job was not for me. That was last spring. I took the summer off. WELL! Who wouldn’t?? And then, after much thought, decided that childcare was the perfect solution to my predicament.

And in almost every aspect it is the ideal job for someone like me. I’m my own boss. I can still be home for my kids. I get a little extra income. Bases covered right? Well, no not really. By the time the daycare children are picked up by their parents, I’ve got to get dinner on the table, help my kids with their homework and/or drive them to lessons and/or grocery shop, and finally get them in bed. At this point I can either prepare for my next day of work or pass out in utter exhaustion. It is usually the latter. So, where’s the room for writing?

Because I can’t seem to find a consistent time to write each day, my thoughts don’t formulate toward any one topic over the course of the day like they used to. Basically, I’ve fallen out of practice. Sometimes I look back at things I’ve written in the past and think in amazement “I wrote THAT?” And then I despair that my writing now cannot compare at all. So I don’t write. It’s a rather unproductive cycle, isn’t it? Am I my own worst critic? Probably but when you’re a writer, initially, self-confidence is the thing that gets you to type that first letter on a blank page.

Luckily…actually, I may give myself more credit here…wisely, I joined a writers’ group here in Ottawa. We meet once a month under the direction of an experienced novelist. Since joining, I can’t say that I’ve produced much but I can say that it has at least given me the push to think about writing and this inspiration gets renewed after every meeting. I do have a story that I started several years ago that I wish to finish. I also wish to write more here. But how can I do that in my current predicament?

15 minutes…maybe 30. Journaling was a word that came up a lot in last night’s meeting. The more I think about it, the more I see the value in it. It may not finish my story. It may not be an interesting blog post to anyone but the writer. But a journal entry, or a group of them can showcase patterns of thoughts that you might miss if they were still floating around in your head…unconnected. It may be the trail of breadcrumbs that leads to more focused writing. I’m going to give it a try. It may not happen every night but I will try to be consistent about it in some way or other. 15 minutes…maybe 30…as often as possible?

I will try to be here more often too and I’m hoping the journaling leads me back here with something concrete to say.

Hope the days are treating you well. Hope to see you again soon. Wish me luck.

The Diamond Jubilee

I would not consider myself to be a monarchist. In fact, I really have no patience for pomp and ceremony. I’m especially sickened by the huge expense put forth to hold events for people of royalty when so many others in the world are starving to do death and living in substandard conditions. That being said, however, I do have a certain nostalgia for Canada’s loyalist past. It is a huge part of our Canadian heritage which is difficult to ignore. Back in 1952, when Queen Elizabeth was crowned, she became the first British monarch to receive the title “Queen of Canada”. Even before that time, and especially since, Canada has been struggling with its independence from Britain. Surprisingly, the last entrance in our independence timeline was only 8 years ago, in 2004, when letters of credence from ambassadors were to be addressed to the Governor General and not to the Queen.¹ Legally, we want our independence, but emotionally, we can’t quite let go of the monarch.

I think the reason for the inability to let the monarch go is that it was ingrained in us since childhood to feel a loyalty to the crown. When I was a child in the 70′s we sang “God Save the Queen” in school as well as “O Canada” but “O Canada” was not officially adopted as our national anthem until 1980. My grandfather flew the Canadian Red Ensign on his flagpole in his backyard for as long as I can remember and never updated it to the Maple Leaf flag. Today, as it was since 1858 with the introduction of the Canadian dollar, all of Canada’s coin currency still has an imprint of the ruling monarch on it. The Governor General, the representative of the Queen in Canada, still has an official position and duties. The Royal Canadian Air Force and Royal Canadian Navy (recently returning to their original names from Canadian Forces Air Command and Maritime Command) clearly state their allegiance to “Her Majesty the Queen in Right of Canada”. These songs, symbols, memories, names, and titles take us back to yesteryear and appeal to our sentimentality.

Which actually brings me to my point. I hadn’t given a moment’s thought to the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee until my friend and my daughter’s Brownie leader, Karen, excitedly announced that she had managed to get Diamond Jubilee badges for all the girls in her Brownie group and that they were being sent all the way from England. That’s great, I thought, and then kind of forgot about it (sorry Karen). This past weekend, however, changed my apathy. My 7-year-old daughter attended her first ever Brownie camp. She was absolutely thrilled to be there and when she came home she told me about the weekend’s events. The first thing that she spoke of was learning to sing “God Save the Queen” and then she showed me her badges. Suddenly, when I saw the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee badge, I was struck with a massive load of nostalgia and a realization of significance of what Karen had done. Thanks to Agnes Baden-Powell, sister to Lord Baden-Powell, and Lady Baden-Powell, Girl Guides was started and grew rapidly in England and by 1910 reached Canada. Guides was, and is, a place for girls to learn and to grow and to accomplish. A goal of respecting one’s country and creating a better world is deeply ingrained in the Guides’ code. Knowing and understanding one’s history helps a person to move forward in such a positive fashion by giving them a secure foundation and a perspective on what needs to be fought for and preserved, as well as changed and improved.

Anna and I sang “God Save the Queen” at the tops of our lungs and I enjoyed every second of it. No, it didn’t propel me toward the tv in hopes of catching sight of the Queen on her Royal Barge, but it did give me a feeling of comfort and a rush of memories of childhood, my grandparents, and my country’s past. It also gave me a deeper connection to my daughter, in that she was going through her childhood and learning the things I learned. She is likely too young to appreciate the significance of the song or the badge but she saw its importance to me, and her Brownie leaders, and she was even more happy to have learned it. I really can’t wait to watch her mature in Guides and to experience what I can of it with her.

I will never be a monarchist but I do so love our topsy-turvy, eccentric Canadian past and I fully accept that the monarchy is a huge part of that past and present. So, here’s to you Elizabeth! Happy Diamond Jubilee! But more importantly, here’s to all of the women who are working hard to positively influence our children in an effort to improve our world. Cheers!

One Last Gift

Today is the 7th anniversary of my mother’s passing. I normally don’t mark the day as I would rather remember her on her birthday – only 15 days from today. It feels more positive, I guess. This year, however, I had a task. There’s a long story behind why I still have some of my mother’s ashes in my possession. Certainly some people keep ashes but that was never my intention. I always wanted to free them. It seemed wrong to keep them confined as they had been for so many years already. So today was the day to do this and what a perfect day it was.

Mom enjoyed being by a lake. Her favourite was Lake Huron, its magnificent shores outlining the South Western edges of the province of Ontario. As a child she spent summers by the water or tooting around in a small motor boat. As an adult she took every opportunity to be by a lake until she and my father were able to purchase a cottage of their own in the early 1990′s. I can still clearly see her sitting relaxed in her beach chair in the sand, a golf hat perched on her head, her large, blue-tinted sunglasses and big, happy smile decorating her face. She was definitely in her element there.

Unfortunately, I don’t have easy access to Lake Huron. It’s a good 9 hour drive from Ottawa. So I decided that Lac De L’Argile, the lake at which my cottage sits, would be an appropriate memorial place both for her and for me. Today, Lac De L’Argile sparkled like a pool of diamonds. It really couldn’t have been more beautiful. I brought the ashes with me to the dock and sat for a long time, in solitude, admiring the view. Then, as I struggled with the thought of releasing what was left of my mother, the tears came. I never imagined it would be that difficult.

I could have wallowed in my emotions for a long time, but suddenly I heard her voice in my head, pragmatic as always, “For God’s sake, Isobel, stop crying and let me out of this container!” I had to laugh out loud, and, with that, clambered down upon the rocks at the side of the dock. I had no idea then, if there was a right or wrong way to release a person’s ashes so I stuck my hand in them and tossed a handful into the wind. They didn’t feel as I had expected. They were more granular. The thought of what that could mean both unsettled me and comforted me. I stuck my hand in a second time and watched the ash catch the wind and then settle into the wavy waters.

To be honest, the effect was less than overwhelming. I’d always imagined a wisp of light ash being carried across the lake like a veil and I would feel my mother’s soul being lifted and freed from the bounds of the earth. But then my imagination always has a streak of romantic unreality to it. What else was I to do then? Let the water carry them away? I upturned the container and the ash slid into the waters just beyond the shore.

That is when the most unexpected and beautiful thing happened. Instead of floating on the water’s surface, the ash began to sink and appeared like a white, linen sheet obscuring the view of the bottom. Then slowly, as the waves continued to gently toss them, the ashes began to plume and then roll along and over the underwater rocks like mists. Long, scroll-like tendrils reached out, swirled and then disappeared, over and over again. It was like an ever-changing, ever-extraordinary work of art. It took a long time to dissipate, maybe 30 minutes, and I found I was so intrigued by it I couldn’t take my eyes off it for a moment.

I climbed back onto the dock and stood to take in the extent of what the day had to offer. As the sun shone on my face, I smiled from the heart. My mother’s body and soul were finally free. Funny thing is, I thought I was doing something for Mom, but I think she did more for me – just as she did in life. Her one last gift is an experience of unexpected beauty I’ll never forget. Thank you, Mom. I miss you and love you. Rest in peace. <3

Right-wing Take Over. Left-wing Call to Arms…er…Feet.

I’m sure I’m not the first person to notice this trend toward conservatism. But holy cow! What’s up? It’s not even just conservatism, it’s NEO conservatism. I mean, can humanity not last survive without a dip back into the dark ages once in a while just to feel alive? Do we need to reach deep into our god-fearing roots and put all women back in a box just to remember what fighting for equal rights is all about? Seriously…I’m curious.

It has been suggested that this rise of conservatism is partly due to the backlash against the rise of atheism. Certainly we heathens have made great strides in recent years. But I think it’s more than that. It’s got to be. I mean, as much as I’d like to wave the happy red A flag, I don’t think we can take all the credit for a worldwide political/religious shift. Can we? Besides I can’t imagine a right-wing world domination is exactly what we were striving for. We scared them and they mobilized. Yeah! Oh…wait…stop!!

Seriously. Stop. Canada, in what might be defined as it’s shiniest moment in history (not) has withdrawn from the Kyoto accord. No flag waving here right now. So Chretien, our former Liberal Prime Minister, takes this moment to remind Canadians that the Kyoto Accord and the gun registry are only the start of blood smears on the chopping block:

The Conservatives have already ended gun control and Kyoto. Next may be a woman’s right to choose, or gay marriage. Then might come capital punishment. And one by one, the values we cherish as Canadians will be gone. ~ Jean Chretien (The Globe and Mail)

Granted, this could be a scare tactic put forth at an opportune moment by the ailing Liberals. I wouldn’t, however, completely ignore the warning. The Conservatives have an agenda and Steven Harper is making darn sure that his grasp on power serves his purposes.

Look down South. The Republicans who are more and more sounding like gun-toting, religious and bigoted wing-nuts have a faithful following. And I’m not talking about a small following. The crazier they sound, the more people seem drawn to them. Now let’s look over at Israel. In an article I read this morning, apparently the ultra-Orthodox Jews, or Haremdim, are ever-expanding and striving to return to the glorious days of yore when women weren’t seen or heard. As the Arab-spring shakes the Middle East, secularism is being trading in for religious parties in democratic elections. Even a political map of Europe shows a sea of blue in what used to be a red dominated region.

Here’s the big question. Is it about values or is it about money? Or a little of both? Often money is at the bottom of everything. With a shaky economy in…pretty much everywhere…people generally embrace a conservative approach to finances. Conservatives and big business march hand in hand slashing social and environmental programs for the sake of the bottom line. The Conservatives serve the businesses, the businesses support the Conservatives. It’s a win-win situation for them.

So what are we left with? A bunch of lefties spinning their wheels? Or is that just me? Could be. But I’m growing springs on me feet. I’m ready to jump up and start doing something. I don’t know what yet, but I do know we can’t just sit on our plump Canadian butts and wait for the inevitable. It’s been a long time since we’ve really had to fight for something. Many of us have forgotten how, many of us never knew how. I sit and write reactionary pieces on my blog trying to spread the news in hopes it might make a difference. Big whoop. As a great…Yoda…once said, “Try not. Do or do not. There is not try.” And I say, don’t react, act. (now I have to follow my own words)

Is this a good news piece, you ask. It depends on how you look at it. For me, it is in a way. There’s nothing like a good, life-affirming fight for what you believe in. On my next post, I’ll let you know about my progress.

What are you going to do?

In Search of Good News

As of late I’ve been overwhelmed by the amount of bad news coming from all over the world. I’m losing sleep over it. Certainly, one could say “At least you’re not losing your life.”. Which, of course, is true. My mere discomfort is really nothing to complain about. I am not alone, however. In this world of fast paced information we can be bombarded with news of mayhem all day long from all corners of the earth. Studies are showing that it is actually affecting our psyche. From a study posted on Medical News Today, it has been proven that watching news on a traumatic event can cause “negative stress reactions or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)” in some people (20% of 89 participants). Dr. Ramsden, who conducted the study, concluded:

Acts of violence erode our sense of security and create intense feelings of anger, fear and helplessness. Watching these events and feeling the anguish of those who are directly experiencing them can impact on a certain percentage of individuals causing longer lasting effects.

This is not the only study out there. In fact, the Department of Veterans Affairs in the United States have posted information on their website about PTSD from Media Coverage, what it is, the symptoms and how to deal with it. Imagine, then, the number of stressed, angry, disenchanted, frustrated, fearful people there are in North America alone. Let’s stretch Dr. Ramsden’s study (probably not scientifically sound but let’s do it anyway) to incorporate 20% of 600 million people…that’s a lot of stressed out people! How do you think that affects our communities and society as a whole? Is negative news actually self-propagating?

So this started me thinking. Surely there must be something positive happening somewhere or the world would implode in disaster. I know that in many bad news stories there’s often something that comes out of it that’s positive. For instance a story of a good samaritan, extraordinary bravery, community charity or cooperation, the development of a new law or a leap in medical advances. So I tried surfing the usual news channels for a “happy” news story and came up with very little. Then I discovered the Good News Network but was quickly informed that I’d have to pay for good news. Gee. Bad news is free. Well, now it’s a challenge but I’m up for it. I need a change of scenery, to stop and smell the roses…whatever you want to call it. Do you think an infusion of positive news, at least enough to counterbalance the bad news, might change our outlook, our daily lives, our communities, and perhaps the behaviour of society? I think maybe it might.

So, just to get the ball rolling, I found an article in today’s Globe and Mail on two promising new breast cancer drugs. Studies have found that pertuzumab and afinitor both slow the progression of breast cancer in women who have very advanced cases and have proven to be very safe with only a few moderate side-effects if taken individually. The reaction of doctors?

You don’t see that very often … It’s a spectacular result! ~ Study leader, Sandra Swain, medical director of Washington Hospital Center’s cancer institute

What’s your good news of the day?

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More: How the News Impacts Your Health and What you Can Do About it

Words of Caution and Wisdom: Michael Ignatieff on Libya and the Arab Spring

As the Conservatives are patting themselves on the back for a job well done in Libya, this Globe and Mail article written by the former Liberal leader, Michael Ignatieff, cautions us against believing that what has happened in Libya has anything to do with us. I do agree that Canada played its role in Libya really well, and for that I will give the government credit. But let’s not let it go to our heads. The people of the countries of the Middle East and North Africa are ushering their own future and we have to be willing to accept whatever they choose.

We like to think we made it happen. First in Kosovo, now in Libya, we believe our air power made it happen. The truth is we didn’t make it happen any more than we made the Arab Spring happen. The air operation itself would never have been approved at the United Nations without the green light from the Arab League. The people of Libya, the people of the Middle East made it happen. We all need to understand how little this is about us. Otherwise we risk succumbing to the illusion that we can shape the future in the Middle East. (Opening paragraph, Michael Ignatieff)

Please see the full article here. I can guarantee it is worth the read.

Thank you, Mr. Ignatieff.

Everyone Loves a Good Kiss

Ok, call me a romantic, but really, when I saw the photo of the young couple who were caught kissing during the riots in Vancouver two nights ago, my heart melted. According to news reports, she, a Canadian girl, had been knocked over by a policeman’s shield and had hit her head on the pavement. Her boyfriend, an Australian, was comforting her and simply kissed her as part of his comforting. This is when the photographer, Richard Lam, caught this beautiful moment in time.

Of course this made me think of other moving kisses, most namely the VJ Day kiss by Alfred Eisenstaedt that became a symbol of the end of World War II.

Then my mind moved to art.

These pieces are certainly beautiful. The skill of the artists and the subject matter combined make them a pleasure to behold. But, for me, they don’t have the same effect as the photos above. We are fortunate to have the art of photography to capture such beautiful moments in time which otherwise, except to the people involved, would be lost to the rest of the world. Perhaps such intimacy isn’t meant for the world, yet, I think it makes us pause and smile, and for a moment have faith in humanity. Daily, we are bombarded with photos of strife and death and perhaps that is why we are so drawn to the tenderness and romance of a spontaneous kiss.

Lunar Eclipse NOW—Watch Live Video of Longest in Decade

COOL!!!

Lunar Eclipse NOW—Watch Live Video of Longest in Decade.

Spring at Home

Spring has finally sprung and we’ve seen loads of blossoms appear in the sunshine (we just had about a week’s worth). Now it’s raining and everything is turning the most vibrant shade of green. I don’t know if aging brings a certain impatience for cold and rotten weather but I’m seriously considering donning my bermuda shorts, coral nailpolish, and oversized sunglasses and heading south with the other “snow birds” next winter. Oh, wait…my kids have school. Ok, well I’m planning for 2023. Sigh. Until then and for now, I am enjoying revelling in the beauty of spring. These photos were taken in my own yard. Enjoy.

Plum Tree Blossoms

Bleeding Heart

Brilliant Creeping Jenny

Apple Blossom Bud

An Anniversary

Sometimes it’s funny how the mind works. You start thinking about one thing and you end up in an entirely different place but it is completely associated with the first thought. What the heck am I talking about? Well, I’ll tell you. It all started with Google…as most things do these days.

I’m sure you’ve noticed that Google usually commemorates world events in its page title depiction. Recently I’ve taken to clicking on the title if I don’t recognize the reference to see who or what it refers to. As one would expect from Google, this takes you to a page of related websites. Today they were celebrating a French-American ornithologist named John James Audubon who was born on this date in 1785. Not being much of a bird enthusiast…oh I like birds I’m just not an enthusiast…I was…how shall I put it…disinterested in the topic. That’s when I decided that something more significant must have happened today in world history. Boy! I couldn’t have been more right.

April 26, 2011 marks the 25th anniversary of the Chernobyl disaster. Today was the day, back in 1986, when an accident caused the meltdown of the nuclear reactor there.

It was in the early Saturday morning hours on April 26, 1986 when a Soviet-built nuclear reactor suffered a cataclysmic system failure, resulting in an explosion that blew off the reactor’s roof. The explosion led to the contamination of large territories in present-day Belarus, Ukraine and the Russian Federation. Roughly fifty people, most of who were involved in emergency response and recovery, died of radiation sickness in the immediate aftermath. The Chernobyl Forum, a cooperative research programme led by the IAEA and WHO, concluded in 2005 that an estimated 4,000 people are likely to die prematurely in the coming years as a result of their exposure. Everyday life in the region was greatly affected as over 350,000 people were evacuated from severely contaminated areas. The accident left an indelible impact on life in the region.(IAEA)

Naturally, when one thinks of Chernobyl one thinks of Fukushima, or vice versa, and I decided to read up on comparisons of the two (see here). Although the disaster at the Fukushima reactor in Japan was terrible and we have yet to find out what the long-term effects will be, it was still less destructive than Chernobyl. Chernobyl leaves an unfortunate and chilling reminder of what can go wrong when processing nuclear energy. After 25 years the radiation levels have fallen enough that the land can be used to a certain degree for “economic purposes”. (that statement would not be enough to convince me to go there)

I think back to 1986. Apparently, April 26th was a Saturday. I was in Grade 11 back in Stratford, Ontario and it was a day before my Mom’s birthday. What was I doing that day? I’ve racked my brain trying to remember but I can’t. I do remember discussions of Chernobyl – not on that particular day but probably that following week. I can vaguely see in my mind the images in the newspaper and on the television. I remember being afraid. I remember feeling terrible for the people who were affected.

I decided to see if the Stratford Beacon Herald had a reference to articles it had published that day on its website archive. It was a long shot. The “sneakin’ Beacon” as we used to call it, was not renowned for its world news. Locally, there was good coverage but you couldn’t expect more. There was nothing. No reference to Chernobyl – not even the 25th anniversary. But they had a local phone directory…

And that’s when I discovered that someone else has MY childhood phone number. Yessirie…273-1975…my family’s phone number for at least 27 years now belongs to someone else. That’s just wrong. It should have been retired when my parents left town. It’s OURS dammit!

My how the mind travels.