Isolation Blues!

Isolation Blues!

These days, we're all singing the Isolation blues in our own unique ways; some of us are feeling very out of tune and trying hard to reach those positive high notes;  For some of us, we are finding the verses getting annoyingly repetitious!

Please forgive the musical irony - It comes after listening to the many wonderful concerts, at so many levels that are being generously offered by musicians, artists and athletes, both locally and around the world to raise money to help our fellow countrymen during this time of crisis.

All of us want to contribute whatever talents we have, to express our love and thanks to all of the front line workers putting themselves at risk every day, and to help the less fortunate.   Giving back in whatever way we can,  particularly the act of sacrificing closeness with our family and friends, makes us all part of this wonderful 'Team Canada'.   

As I was breathing deeply, and letting go of the stress for awhile, I wrote a simple little poem that expresses a desire for peaceful happy times.  It also encompasses gratitude for the silver lining in all of this down time - a chance to really look and listen to each other, to our children and grandchildren, and to appreciate the really important elements of life.

What if?

What if there was no war to fear,

No hurtful words

To wound the ear,

No vain attempt

To have it all,

No selfish smirks

When others fall;

What if we gathered smiles and flowers,

If loving acts

Were our super powers;

If we rose each day

In gratitude,

Spreading smiles

In happy mood;

If we, like children, saw the world,

One tiny wonder

At a time,

With curiosity

Unfurled,

Each challenge,

But a tree to climb;

What if we saw our work as play,

And laughed,

As little children do;

While giving love

In simple ways,

Needing just to hear,

 "Me too!"

Then, let us lay our troubles down,

And take some time,

Be still awhile,

Take our cue

From little ones,

Paint rainbows,

And share a smile!

All Is Well In The End!

Grandparents' Day is approaching again - September 8th.  In gratitude and humility, I share a few words, some 'wisdom' that I have realized over the course of my rapid journey of nearly 71 years:

In the end, we are who we are, with all of our unique imperfections, but also with the immense potential that resides within us, waiting to be asked to come forward.  We are largely unknown to ourselves; the face that we see in the mirror each morning hides behind it someone that wants to meet us and be included in our day.  Usually, it gets overlooked or covered up with makeup of various kinds, as we look past its expectant and hopeful gaze, and try to form it into some version of ourselves that we think is expected or will be accepted by the world out there.  When we are lucky enough to receive gifts from our grandchildren, or from anyone,  let us remember that there is still a little child dwelling within each of us, waiting and hoping that his gift will be loved. 

Every Word, Every Action Matters!

I made one mark upon a page,

It grew into a word,

Then others came in twos and threes,

Emerged from unknown station,         

Responding with elation

To the voice that they had heard;

They joined hands in a sentence,

 then a paragraph, a rhyme,

A soliloquy, a story, a 'Once upon a time',

Each mark an inspiration,

Adding to a thought  sublime,

And I their humble servant,

Gave thanks for every line.

Words - when we send them flying into the world on the wings of a smile, how uplifting and encouraging a gift they can be to others!

As Green As It Gets!

"That's as green as it's going to get!"   An exasperated cry from our Grandson made us laugh at the time - a good wake-me-up that jolted us out of the serious impatience that we felt one day while sitting behind a slow mover at the starting line of a downtown traffic light.  Why do we insist on treating life as a race, having to get to our goals at the expense of the beauty that passes us by along the way?

  'The goal is the journey'  is an expression that one of our dear friends  used to use at the conclusion of her e-mails;  It always made me stop and re-think the goals that I had planned for that particular day - to give my to-do list a thorough review, to make sure that I was going to be living the day rather than just getting through it.   That difference meant that I made sure to leave some precious time for a creative process of some sort - something that would add a smile, a drop of encouragement, some beauty to the world.  I didn't forget the value of a love-filled baking session as one of those processes either;  It seemed like the perfect work of art on days when sunshine and smiles were at a premium.

  Heading into another week sprinkled with lots of raindrops, and with the grass and garden waiting patiently,  I decided to entice some poetic sunshine to come forth - That's as green as it's going to get today!

After The Rain

After the rain,

There will be light,

And a breeze to lift

The robin's flight;

After the rain,

The sun will shout

 With welcome warmth,

"Come out!  Come out!"

"Shake out your smile,

Add yours to mine,

Let's have some fun -

It's gardening time!"

Go forth - Be Brave, Be Kind.

It was just a bottle of ginger ale, but I keep the memory of it in a very special room in my mind - the one that holds my small acts of bravery.

My mother passed away a few years ago now; One day, as I was leaving the hospital room where she spent an unfortunate part of her last years, I listened to a conversation taking place between a male nurse and the patient in the bed next to Mom's.  That lady's illness had affected her personality and she had become very difficult to deal with.  She was demanding a drink of ginger ale, which the poor nurse did not have access to.  As I got into the elevator and headed downstairs, I heard that voice in my heart speaking up: "A ginger ale from the machine downstairs would make two people happy right now - that  distressed patient, and the nurse who was trying to cope with more patients than he should have had to handle."   I fought my way past the cowardly voice of 'It's not your problem, Edie', and for the minimal price of $1.00, I turned around and brought that struggling lady, and the surprised, grateful nurse a gift - a bright shiny bottle of ginger ale!

It takes courage to perform an act of kindness, even one as small as the gift of a bottle of ginger ale.   The rewards go far beyond the immediate action - I can still feel the effervescent bubbles that welled up inside of me, causing me to thank God for allowing me to help someone even in this small way.  They carried me, and made my footsteps a lot lighter than they had been when I left Mom's bedside - The real gift was actually given to me.

Borrowing a line from Cinderella's mother:  'Have courage and Be kind'!

A Sad Ghost Story!

Halloween - You either hate it or love it, for a whole host of different reasons.   With so many serious issues facing everyone, perhaps it is a good time to take a break from all of the negatives, and to just get down and play with your inner child.   I decided that I would do that this morning, and the result was this little poem that popped into my head and said Boo!  Lighten up!

A Sad Ghost Story

Booooo hooo hooo!   cried  Cornelius ghost,

I'm much too sad

To boo and boast;

I snagged my sheet on an old street post,

And it crumbled up like a piece of toast!

This Halloween, if a cold wind shrieks,

Don't look for witches or crazy freaks,

Just listen for my boo hoo hoo's

It's only me - no sheet, no shoes!

Now you can't see me,

Even when I'm  close,

Oh, I miss my comfortable  sheet the most!

Booooo hoooo hoooooo!

Me And My Ski Poles!

Me And My Ski Poles!

Walking with ski poles ?  No way - I'm not going to have people looking at me like I'm weird!

But, here I am, a convert.    After being introduced to the concept by the good folks at Walker House (and my husband) I checked it out on the net -  According to write-ups about it, 'The logic is simple:  Normal walking utilizes muscles in the lower half of the body while pole walking is a whole-body activity that uses muscles in the back, arms, shoulders and neck.'   After reading about all of its other benefits,  I invested in a pair of brand new shiny ski poles and headed down to the waterfront  the next day to join up with the 'Chicks With Sticks' group.   With a little guidance in adjusting the height of the sticks and some advice on how to use them properly, I was off!   Now, I try to get out on my own as many days as possible for a 'ski' down the highways and bi-ways of Prescott.   On one of my walks, I was feeling just a little self-conscious as I veered to the left to pass a middle-aged man out walking his dog:

   "Doing a bit of urban poling, eh?"   he remarked.   Urban poling?   Why.... yes!  That's exactly what I was doing - not just out walking with a pair of ski poles;  I suddenly felt very trendy, indeed!  

     I must remember that phrase for a time in the future when my trendy ski poles get replaced by a  very necessary cane(s).   Getting feeble?  Not I - I'll simply be out urban poling!

As for the psychological and spiritual benefits:

I'm off

With my poles

For a walk

And a think;

With a bottle

Of water

For these lips

To drink,

I'll gather new thoughts

For this old brain

To link

To the people I pass

And the wonders

That wink

At my deep contemplation;

I'll treasure each link

In the chain of my think,

I'll sweat with the small stuff

And feel my cares

Shrink!

This Old House

This Old House

 

"This old house once knew my children
This old house once knew my wife
This old house was home and shelter as we fought the storms of life
This old house once rang with laughter
This old house heard many shouts
Now she trembles in the darkness when the lightnin' walks about"

                                                ...Stuart Hamblen, 1954

 

These nostalgic lyrics have been going around in my head for a long time now, and have become more poignant with the recent sale of our family home on the Rideau River.  It is the inevitable decision that more and more of us boomers are having to make: Our old house had certainly held on as long as it could, thanks to the heroic efforts of my sister and brother, and as it packed its bags to say goodbye, it delayed its departure for more year to give our family time to pick out some mementos and take a few more looks at the beautiful view down the river.  

Memories come flooding back of games of hide-and-seek out of doors until it was too dark to see anymore; of late night swims in the heat of summer to cool us off so we could sleep, of endless sing-a-longs and parties and sharing; of heading to the garden with Dad - a slice of bread in hand for a fresh green onion sandwich, of walks down the road to the one-room schoolhouse, to Rideau Valley Inn, Margaret Kelly's raspberry patch, and to all of the childhood haunts that remain engraved in my heart.

If houses absorb spirits, then that old house was certainly spirit filled.  It was the great Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, and Tooth Fairy secret keeper, guardian of the many whispers of untold prayers from Mom & Dad and all  of us children alike, and the forbearing audience for all of our crazy antics and play acting.  I'm sure it must have closed its eyes and grimaced as it silently endured the graffiti and the countless blows that we kids in our exuberance, inflicted on its walls and  floors. 

As I reflect on all of the love that is our parents legacy, and of the house that contained so much of it, I am reminded of Aunt Mamie's words of wisdom: "Make beautiful memories" - They form a foundation that will last forever - like the one that held up our old house.