Reflections on 2016

As I sit here on New Year’s Eve 2016, I am reminded of the Psalm that says, 

“Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so we may grow in wisdom"   Ps 90:12

I am fortunate to have daily reminders of numbered days, and the harm that springs from petty quarrels and greed. It is customary to make New Year’s resolutions but it is also good to reflect on growth and changes in the last twelve months. 

I kept a hand written journal for an entire year and wrote on the last page today. This has been an useful way to keep track of thoughts, ideas, wisdom from other people, and to-do lists. I journaled significant and mundane things together because life is that way. A beautiful sunrise, a butterfly, a bird, a chance meeting, a tasty dinner all bring me joy.  Oscar Wilde was right when he wrote,

 “I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train.”

Journaling made me more aware of the sacred that exists in everything. One of my goals was to appreciate the humanity and potential goodness in everyone without pre-judging by appearance or behaviour. Everyone has a back story that deserves respectful listening. I continue to appreciate the beauty of the natural world which surpasses the grandest cathedral made by man. And relationships with other people are important to cultivate as we wither physically, mentally and spiritually without meaningful social support. 

I wrote a lot of prayers in my journal. I came to realize that most of what I called prayer was self-centred and petulant. I believe the primary purpose of prayer is to change my thinking, my attitudes, and my behaviour. God is not a genie who comes and releases us from our problems. He gives us the tools to do the work ourselves. Likewise, we, by our actions, bring about change in our sphere of influence. I am reminded daily how self-centred I am by nature and how hard it is to extend needed forgiveness and grace to others.

I am more appreciative of good health and know that abuse of our bodies is not easily overcome as we age. Making good nutrition, exercise, rest and stress management a priority is a daily challenge. I became aware of the concept of “mindfulness” this year. Multi-tasking robs us of awareness of simple pleasures. We rush about, eat fast food, gorge on social media, and misuse the time we need to invest in a meaningful, balanced life. I continue to make my own bread every week. When I eat a slice at the beginning of the day, I am reminded of my connection with Jesus, the bread of life, and human kind who has broken bread for millennia. This is communion in the truest sense.

My religious background was strict and questions had pat answers. I knew the statements of faith well and taught them to many children in Sunday School. My understanding of certain doctrines and practices has changed significantly. It has been good to journal my questions and musings and to listen to others who interpret scripture differently. Unanswered questions keep us on the quest for wisdom and knowledge.

I have a brand new journal for 2017 but will keep the 2016 version handy. Every day is a gift for which I am grateful.

Happy New Year!

Whimsical Diversions

The old man on the dementia ward held a cabbage patch doll, a boy, dressed in a blue sweater and overalls. I watched as he cupped the doll’s head in his hands and stared lovingly into its face. 
“My little boy, my dear little baby,” he said as he raised it up and kissed its forehead before bringing it to rest on his shoulder. The tenderness he showed toward the doll was very real and touching. 

As a child I truly believed my toys came to life when I wasn’t looking. I was influenced by Enid Blyton’s books and delighted in the magical world of fairies, pixies and elves and goblins. I tried to believe in Santa for as long as possible, if not for myself, for my younger brothers. I still like to imagine little woodland creatures living under a Mayapple leaf or inside a Jack in the Pulpit wildflower. I would like to be one of Tolkien's almost immortal elves.

I watched the French movie Amélie for the first time this summer. I loved the scene where Amélie takes her father’s garden gnome and sends it with a stewardess friend on adventures around the world. In July, CBC carried a fun news story about a lady in British Columbia whose garden gnome was stolen. The “thieves” returned the gnome weeks later with a hardcover photo book of its adventures through western United States and into Mexico. So when I saw a garden gnome in a clearance sale for under $10 at a hardware store in September… I bought it. 

Mr. Gnoddy is a bobble head gnome who has been quite busy since he came to our home. He has his own Instagram account and has found many other travelling gnomes online. When our dog sees Mr. Gnoddy, she knows it is picture time and generously poses beside him. He has been to Montreal, Quebec City, Gatineau, Ottawa, Kingston, Toronto and several places in between. He is going on his first flight in January. Perhaps he will be able to publish a photo book as well. 

Rein Poortvliet was a Dutch artist who is best known for his paintings and books about animals and gnomes. A Gnome’s Christmas is a delightful story book about the traditions of these little people. The larger volume, Gnomes, was a best seller when it was published in 1977. It reads like a fanciful biology text and may raise some interesting questions from younger readers.

Adults who follow whimsical diversions, from Beatrix Potter to J.R.R. Tolkien and many in between, have enriched our lives with interesting literature and art. Like the old man in the hospital, these make believe characters represent something true and memorable within us. We are never too old for imagination and play. 

Earth's Crammed with Heaven...

TRUTH, so far, in my book;—the truth which draws

Through all things upwards,—that a twofold world

Must go to a perfect cosmos. Natural things

And spiritual,—who separates those two

In art, in morals, or the social drift

        

Tears up the bond of nature and brings death,

Paints futile pictures, writes unreal verse,

Leads vulgar days, deals ignorantly with men,

Is wrong, in short, at all points...

Earth’s crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God;

But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,

The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries,

And daub their natural faces unaware...

From ‘Aurora Leigh’ by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 

I read part of this poem today and wanted to share this excerpt, if for no other reason than to remember it myself. There are so many similes that resonate with me in her writing.

And so I will go about my day looking for inspiration in my routine, in the ordinary people I will encounter, in the hustle and bustle of the city and the solitude of nature. 

Christmas Customs and Culture

Christkindl Christmas Market

We attended the annual Christkindl Christmas market in our city this weekend. Our area was settled largely by German speaking immigrants a couple of centuries ago and while we are far more diverse now, Oktoberfest and the Christmas market are well attended events.

Traditional German band with an alpenhorn 

I asked a Hindu nurse at work if there were any December celebrations in her culture. She said no, but she planned to put up a Christmas tree and exchange gifts with friends and family. To her, it was a Canadian tradition she felt comfortable adopting. Other acquaintances are celebrating St. Nicholas Day tonight and tomorrow in the Dutch tradition. There was a Krampus run this weekend along with the Christmas market to celebrate some darker European Yuletide legends. 

Krampus is here                                                                        Catalonian Caganer (source)

Catalonian nativity scenes feature a figure who is defecating in a corner or behind a tree. The “Caganer"  or “pooper” is a symbol of fertility and good fortune in an agrarian society. He may also represent the fact that Jesus was a partaker of everything that is human. I work in an environment where regularity or irregularity is recorded and dealing with excrement is all in a day’s work. It is something common to all species who eat food, whether rich or poor, young or old, famous or infamous. It is part of our humanity. 

In Mexico, Christmas posadas are community events where participants go from house to house looking for the Christ Child. In parts of Newfoundland, Mummers go from house to house looking for food and drink in exchange for music and dancing.

Joseph at the Christkindl Market

I truly doubt that our nativity scenes depicting the birth of Jesus are even close to what really happened. In my mind, Mary and Joseph were likely staying with relatives in the autumn of the year. The lower part of the building housed the animals and the couple stayed there, as the guest room was occupied. They shared meals with others who were hospitable and generous. They may have been guests for days or weeks before the birth. Mary was not alone during labour but was attended by a local midwife and caring women. They were not isolated on a hill far from town but were part of the normal hum and rhythm of the community.

Legend and tradition have become the mainstay of our December celebrations with each culture interpreting the story according to their own history and perspective. Community is central to the celebration. I am fortunate to be able to participate in my community’s Christmas celebrations. Maybe someday I will have a chance to visit Spain and encounter a Caganer as part of their interpretation of the Christmas story.

Possessed by Possessions

Advent is here again, already, so soon. It is hard to concentrate on a season of waiting when we are so busy that each week seems to pass as quickly as a day. The city streets were congested today with shoppers rushing about to snap up Black Friday weekend deals. 

We went for a walk in the woods and even though the dog became mired in a muddy bog shortly after this picture was taken, nature was nurturing and relaxing. 

I am not buying or receiving Christmas gifts this year and it was liberating to make that decision. I want to focus on spending unhurried time with people, over a meal, at a seasonal event, outdoors or indoors, without the obligation of gift-giving and reciprocation. There is nothing wrong with gifts. I just prefer to spread the giving over the year, spontaneously or when there is a need. 

I participated in a November minimalism challenge where you get rid of one item on the 1st of the month, two on the second, three on the third and so on. By the end of the month over 400 items should be gone from your home. I had no problem finding things to give or throw away. Sadly, it is not readily evident that I have completed the challenge as we still have so many belongings. I need to do this for a year! The effort required to look after so many “things” is time consuming and tiring. 

Jesus’ life on earth was not about accumulating possessions but rather, nurturing meaningful relationships with God and others. In a parable he warned about possessing more than we need.

Luke 12:16-21

Then he told them a story: “A rich man had a fertile farm that produced fine crops. He said to himself, ‘What should I do? I don’t have room for all my crops.’ Then he said, ‘I know! I’ll tear down my barns and build bigger ones. Then I’ll have room enough to store all my wheat and other goods. And I’ll sit back and say to myself, “My friend, you have enough stored away for years to come. Now take it easy! Eat, drink, and be merry!”’

“But God said to him, ‘You fool! You will die this very night. Then who will get everything you worked for?’

“Yes, a person is a fool to store up earthly wealth but not have a rich relationship with God.”

My goal to let go of sentimental attachments to things in order to live with greater simplicity, thus freeing up time and energy to build rich relationships with others. I lifted this meme from my aunt's Facebook page because it is so true!

Looking for Hope and a Future

We enjoyed Indian summer with several days of unseasonable warmth and clear skies this November. I watched the sun rise this morning, red and bright. The sky was on fire and late autumn leaves glowed in the low light. 

When it is evening, you say, "It will be fair weather; for the sky is red.

"And in the morning, "It will be stormy today, for the sky is red and threatening."

(Matthew16)

And sure enough, a cold front approached in the afternoon with rain and cooler temperatures.

The leaves fall quickly now, crunching underfoot as I walk, covering the ground where they will shrivel and disintegrate.  I smell the dampness and mold that rots and hastens their return to the soil.

This is death. 

But I am not sad, for these leaves cover new life that will spring forth after the long, cold winter. There is a time of waiting, but the woods will once again be green and fruitful. 

Nations rise and fall. Good leaders and bad leaders have their season of influence. Sometimes it looks like hope has died but it will rise again when winter is over. These trees have seen many seasons, perhaps 100, 200 or more, some good and some bad. A season of dying always comes before the season of new growth. Winter is coming, but we have hope for better things in the future.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, 

“plans to prosper you and not to harm you, 

plans to give you hope and a future. 

Then you will call on me and 

come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 

You will seek me and find me 

when you seek me with all your heart.

Jeremiah 29:11-13 (NIV)

Reunions and Holding Space

The woman had a rapidly progressing, early onset dementia. She was admitted to hospital for assessment and was deemed incapable to live on her own. Her son had power of attorney but lived far away and his work obligations prevented regular visits.  She never mentioned any other family members. 

I saw a young couple standing nervously outside the locked door of the unit. I offered assistance and asked who they were coming to visit. The young man said he was the youngest son of this same woman. He had not seen her in over ten years even though he lived nearby. He was uncertain of the reception his mother would give him. I offered to tell her that he was there and would gauge her response to his name. She was a cheery person who retained her social graces and had no objections to having visitors. I led him to the room for their reunion and watched with emotion as he said anxiously,  

“Hi Mom, it’s me, Kevin.” 

I could tell she did not know who he was but she was able to cover her memory loss well. 

“How nice to see you!”, she said. 

They visited for a while, the conversation superficial and without much meaning.

I never asked what events caused the estrangement between mother and son in the first place. Every immediate or extended family experiences discord at one time or another but it is sad to see ongoing hostility and lack of forgiveness involving a parent and child.

I read an excellent article recently by Heather Plett on What it Means to Hold Space for People. (It is also worthwhile to read the follow up links at the bottom of the page). She writes,

“What does it mean to hold space for someone else? It means that we are willing to walk alongside another person in whatever journey they’re on without judging them, making them feel inadequate, trying to fix them, or trying to impact the outcome. When we hold space for other people, we open our hearts, offer unconditional support, and let go of judgement and control.”

What a beautiful concept! But it can be very hard to implement. Reunions would be so different without the judgements of others, real or perceived, causing us to be self-conscious and uneasy. 

How do I look? 

Am I successful? 

I feel stupid compared to _____! 

Why is that person avoiding me? 

I still can’t stand_______ even though I haven’t seen them in 20 years!

The candle holder in the picture above is from Ten Thousand Villages and is made of soapstone by artisans in Kenya. To me, it illustrates the ability to hold space in spite of different experiences, life choices, ideas and values while maintaining a connected relationship with others. Recently, it feels like our society is moving further away from this concept causing people to feel manipulated, judged and controlled. 

All I can do is work on changing my own attitude, thereby increasing my ability to hold space for others.

Québec City by Calèche

My first calèche ride, Québec City 1972

Grandma took me on a bus tour of Québec the summer I was seventeen and she was seventy-seven. My mother had taken the same route with her when she was a teenager. Grandma wanted me to ride a calèche in Québec City and see the birds on Percé Rock, far east of the big cities. Everyone on the bus called her Grandma by the end of the two week trip. There was only one other passenger my age who was travelling with her parents but we all had a great time. 

I took our daughters to Québec in 1998 when they were teenagers and told them Grandma’s stories. I re-read her copies of The Golden Dog by William Kirby and Maria Chapdelaine by Louis Hémon. We went to Halifax and Prince Edward Island instead of Percé but stayed a few days at Ste. Anne de Beaupré as a base for our exploration of the Québec City area. And we toured the city by calèche.

Québec City 1998

Last month my husband and I visited Montreal and Québec City for a few days. Both cities are rich in the history and culture of Europe and the New World. We walked the upper and lower sections of Old Québec City and took the ferry to Lévis on the other side of the St. Lawrence River. We had some extra time on the last day and decided to take a tour of the upper city by calèche for Grandma. The limestone buildings and the Plains of Abraham were warmed by the low sun of a September afternoon and our driver chatted amicably with his lilting French accent. So much has changed and so much has not changed in the past forty-four years since I was seventeen. 

September 2016

The slide show has a short video clip in the middle of our horse-drawn tour through the old walled city. One thing that has changed dramatically over the years is the quality of cameras. I have 12 faded colour snapshots of the two week trip we took in 1972.