The Calm Before The Storm

'The calm before the storm' is a well-known idiom that carries some pretty depressing baggage with it.  It tends to serve up foreboding and a sense of doom.   It has many cousins that carry similar gloomy messages:  'Just wait, this beautiful weather can't last.',  'We're going to pay for all of this good weather.' 'Don't get used to it, it's only March.'   etc. etc.

Why can't we just embrace outpourings of happiness, love, good weather, whatever positives that  happen to come our way, and not feel guilty,  or be apprehensive that bad things will surely follow - and while we're at it, why not be the authors of some happiness?

A Calm In The Storm

There is a calm before each storm,

Or so we've come to think,

And isn't it an awful shame

We let our spirits sink;

Before our souls have time to rest,

To  bask awhile in gentleness,

Thoughts break in of what might come,

When soft turns harsh, when calm is done;

Why waste the balm of healing scents

And healing sounds, when worries stop;

Why let unquiet walk with us,

And wait for some great shoe to drop;

Let's wrap our arms around it tight,

Embrace the calm - soak in its light,

Bid our hearts to see the good,

And shout our thanks, for well we should;

Enjoy this day - this gift we've got,

For night may come, or it may not;

Let calm surround us every day,

And when despair gets in our way,

Then tiny acts of love perform,

And be the calm that quells the storm.

The Dream Train

'I was trying to daydream, but my mind kept wandering.'   - Steven Wright

A recent issue of 'Discovery' magazine had an interesting article in it about the overlooked importance of daydreaming - who knew?  Apparently, it is when our minds are given the freedom to explore and  travel to wherever the moment takes it, that revelations occur; when a completely unrelated dream can lead us to look at a problem in a whole new way.  For all of you fellow daydream travellers out there - all aboard!

            The Dream Train

There's a train that comes by often,

A muse who calls to me,

"Come hop aboard, forget your work,

Let's see what we can see!"

"No ticket will be needed,

No carry-on", says she;

”Only thoughts will be collected,

And dreams can travel free."

It picks  me up at random,

While my mind is caught off guard,

Floating on a piece of  music,

Or wandering  through the yard.

It leaves at no particular time

And often takes detours,

There's food for thought in the dining car,

Where imagination stirs;

Travelling in my private car,

Alone, I ride along,

Oblivious to the outside world,

Lost in my own song,

         

So quiet is the engine,

You can miss time passing through,

Till you wake -  the ride is over,

And a dream steps off with you!

Mental Health Issues affect everyone, and it is so important to support all of the initiatives that are breaking down the harmful stigmas that are keeping people from recognizing symptoms and seeking help.  Laughter and humour can be powerful coping tools for all of us, as can the act of nurturing:

Talking To My Plants

I talk and talk and pour it out;

The philodendron's all worn out!

 The poor hibiscus is in a state,

The aloe plant can hardly wait

For me to rest my vocal glands,

The prayer plant just threw up her hands!

                   -------------

She's talking to her plants again,

She offers them a drink,

They're very good at listening

When she's deep into a think;

They never interrupt her,

When her mind's on the attack;

They welcome her encouragement

And try to give some back;

They share a secret nature knows;

Life is a giving wheel,

To nurture beauty where one goes

Leads our hearts to heal,

One more circle,

One more time,

It's our turn at the wheel.

In Johnstown,Ontario, just East of Prescott, there stands a strong 60 ft. tower, a former windmill and now a heritage lighthouse.  It was the site of the historic Battle Of The Windmill (1838), fought between approximately 250 insurgents called Patriot Hunters, from the United States who were sympathetic to the 1837 Rebellions in Canada, and local militia and British soldiers.

 A group of citizens called "The Friends Of Windmill Point" was formed in 1996, their mission to ensure that this impressive tower and its grounds are kept in good shape and open to the public during the Summer months, both as a resource to educate about the area's history and to share its beautiful vista.  I have been impressed by the number of people from all over the world who come to this site to view the beautiful St. Lawrence from the top windows of the tower, and to learn its story.

 On July 1st 2017, to mark Canada's 150th birthday, the FOW installed a symbolic light at the top of the lighthouse; When it was decommissioned some forty some years ago, its light had been extinguished.  As a recent member of  the FOW,  I wrote the following poem, a tribute to its strong, nurturing character:

The Windmill Lighthouse

I have folded my arms

They are gone, long ago,

And my eyes have been closed

To the travellers below;

I still gaze over water,

And watch in my way,

As below my strong tower

Parents stop, children play;

Their harmless mock battles

Remind me today

Of those others who died,

And oft times I pray

For the lives of the men,

Who surrounded my tower,

Could they not feel my sorrow,

Could they not feel me cower?

I cried when my walls

Were a refuge for men

Who came not in peace,

But misguided intent.

Now, I witness your struggles

As you pass by each day

And I silently cheer

When you choose the right way.

For years I've been waiting

Where your forefathers stood,

Now, once more I will shine out -

A symbol for good.

Feel The Sun - Be The Sun!

The sun is still up there, just wanting some quiet time and has closed its curtains for a much needed break.  It doesn't mean to offend us by this gesture; perhaps it is just setting an example and giving us some protected space to take our own time for reflection. 

 I try to help the sun out by creating my own small bits of sunshine, for myself and for my fellow life travellers;  some of my favourite attempts come from a paint box of words.  I try to steer away from the depressing colours of complaints, and those that create poor images of myself and others. The words that paint harmful gossip, and inspire only uncomfortable laughter will slowly but surely turn all of the other beautiful colours to a muddy grey - best to avoid!

In the grand scheme of things, we each have the potential to create sunshine by just being honest with ourselves, appreciating and sharing ourselves with others, complete with all of the faults that make us who we are.  The best way to turn a grey day into a sunny one is to take ourselves less seriously - to laugh at ourselves and to share in the humble humour of our humanness: (say that 3 times fast!).

Miss Patient!

Miss patient was a person

With a problem and a pain;

She went to see a doctor,

And she asked him to explain;

“I have a list of symptoms,

Though I don’t like to complain;

I wrote a few things down for you

To try and make it plain:

I’ve a pimple on my elbow,

A cracking in my knee,

And a funny sort of  popping sound

That really bothers me,

A ringing in my ears, a tingling in my thumb,

I can’t put my finger on it,

‘Cause my finger’s feeling numb!"

The doctor was quite patient

As he diagnosed her pain;

"The answer is not easy,

But, I'll keep it short and plain -

It seems to me, Miss Patient,

You've a hyperactive brain!"

Happy New Year!

For myself, this year is starting off like every other 'New Year' - I am filled with longing for the world to somehow cast off its destructive attitudes and give us all the gift of hope;  for world leaders to  look to the welfare of its neediest citizens.   As I listen to news reports, that doesn't seem very likely;  Big media tends to focus most of its energy in highlighting all of the worst that mankind is capable of.   Small town media, on the other hand, brings us that hope in the form of uplifting stories that it prints of caring people who make a positive difference,  and of events that lift us all as individuals and members of a community.   Let's all aspire to love and to hope:

The Loom

The peddlers of woe

Are bending their bows,

Filling their quivers with fears;

The weavers of doom

Are  warping their looms

With  the delicate threads of our tears;

They add warp and weft

With fingers so deft,

Creating their coats of despair,

While we shiver and wait

In our uncertain state

For a glimmer of hope to appear.

Those peddlers know well

That fear and woe sells,

Though it takes a sad toll on the soul;

What a price we all pay

When  greed leads the way,

But there could be an alternate goal;

Let us pick up our shields

Where they lie in the fields

Of our dreams and our hopes for tomorrow,

And fend off the foe,

Tell those merchants of woe

That we don't want their weapons of sorrow.

What a beautiful garment

We all could create,

One incredibly vast in its scope;

Strong and divine,

To enfold all mankind,

On a loom strung with love, filled with hope.

   Love is our shield

And hope is our loom

A Visit From My Christmas Spirit

  

At such a joyous time of year,

My Christmas spirit's in low gear -

I'm putting too much octane

In my tank of busyness;

Instead of looking 'round to see

The beauty that's surrounding me,

My eyes keep looking inward

Focusing on my own mess.

The Spirit, longing to impart

Its gift of hope to lift my heart,

I seem to have wrapped up and left

beneath the Christmas tree;

This precious gift that can't be bought

Should not be left to afterthought,

But opened first and shared a lot

With friends and family. 

As I pay it more attention,

Pause, and take time for reflection,

It is growing, speeding up,

Approaching second gear;

I'm heeding now its hopeful voice,

Speaking of a wiser choice:

To take each moment that I'm given

And spend it well this year.

          "If I could make you smile,

            For just a little while,

            It would give me such a lift

            To help you find

            Your forward shift

            That would be the perfect gift,

            One that we could open together,

            No ribbon to untie."