Sometimes we need sunflowers in the middle of winter as a reminder of things to come when the wind blows cold.

And I think tonight about some special people in my life who are as radiant, beautiful and full of generosity and light as these sunflowers and I  bow deeply and silently to them.

I have written two full blog posts and discarded them both. This is all I really want to say, even though Thomas Merton gets the credit for saying it first.

Thomas Merton and his thoughts on ‘not depending on the hope of results

…it isn’t outcomes that matter. It’s people, our relationships that give meaning to our struggles. If we free ourselves from hope and fear, from having to succeed, (or change what can’t be changed) we discover that it becomes easier to love…We realize that we truly are in this together, and that’s all that matters…We are consoled and strengthened by being together… We don’t need hope. We need each other.”

I believe this to be true. Let’s do what we can to encourage each other on and find ways to bring sunflowers into each other’s lives. I think during difficult times we help ourselves by helping others.

 Thank you for your kindness and generosity, by showing up here each week. Please take care of yourselves during this challenging Covid winter. The vaccines are slowly rolling out and we still need to continue with our masks, hand washing and keeping our distance. However, over cyberspace you can consider yourself hugged by me. Warmest wishes, Trudy

2020 held a great deal of promise for many of us.  Consequently,  what occupied my mind last year, was the delightful thought of my Mother’s 100th Birthday bash in Victoria, BC, and how much she would love it. My main complaint was too many snowbanks on the street and why couldn’t the city do a better job. If only I had known what was coming that complaint would never have passed my lips.

Little did any of us know that our celebrations and travel plans would be upended. Much worse was the havoc, death and devastation worldwide, created by Covid 19. We all know what happened and how we continue still, to co-exist with this unwanted virus in our midst. Everyone has experienced some form of loss this year in many aspects of our lives. No one I know is sad to see the end of this year. And yet…

It is easy to see all that we have lost and all the obstacles we had to overcome. No wonder obstacles are front and centre, because an obstacle requires our attention. I am not one to say that cancer, as an example, is a gift. I do say this: I don’t want anyone to get cancer, but, since I did, there were things that arose out of the experience that I wouldn’t change for a moment:

Musings

• Friendships deep and abiding
• The shift in how I work due to my direct experience of cancer -my vocation
• The reminder that I too am mortal. We all know it, but we can’t picture our own demise today. Getting a nudge allowed me to re-evaluate my life. Kind of like a second chance.
• Moving to Ottawa
• My cycling trips
• Photography
• Writing
• My marathon walks
• My blogs
• And much much more.

You can argue that all of the above other than #2 could happen without getting cancer. I agree. However, it is interesting to me that most of that list happened during and post cancer.

I believe the pandemic has had a similar influence. When we are threatened, we stop and re-evaluate what is most important, and we often make changes.

Unexpected gifts this year, beyond the obvious

• My weekly visits to Wellspring Calgary via my Living Well with Illness – Zoom Webinar series
• My regular walks and important talks with my grandchildren
• The zoom Birthday party for my Mother – thank goodness for this technology
• The gift of being with my Mother and our family when she died
• The book, Braiding Sweetgrass, by Robin Wall Kimmerer
• Taking back my Secular Sabbath
• Moderating regular coffeehouses for the ToDo Institute. Who would have known that I could be good at that?? (not me)
• Learning not to touch my face. I thought I would never get it, but I did. Flu season in Canada has had a reduction  of cases by 98%, so I guess many of us learned the skill of meticulous hygiene.
• A “Whatsapp” video call from Japanese friends during their 4 day hike. Since covid we have all become skilled at knowing how to connect with each other across the planet. This won’t change after things are restored to a new normal. We now take this kind of connection for granted, just like a phone call. It was delightful to see their faces, the trail they were hiking and share a few words together.
• Learning how to draw, sketch, create mandalas… I am now a serious beginner. I dipped my toe in and I am ready for the plunge. 2021 is my year to draw and sketch. This came about because of Covid and my desire to find an expressive art form to work with beyond photography and writing.
• Kudos to the entertainment industry that turned their creative and imaginative talents  to amazing ways to cheer us all on.

I am reminded just as I was with cancer to take nothing for granted. To cultivate awareness, appreciation and gratitude for the life I am living. I am convinced that it is in ordinary living that meaning, satisfaction and contentment are re-discovered. I can’t stop thinking of my maternal grandmother who had very little of the world’s wealth or status but she was rich in the ordinary ways of living and creating and all that life entails. Resourceful, resilient, full of good cheer and kindness…surely the pandemic has taught us that we all can use more of that.

The future

I don’t have a crystal ball. However, I think it is safe to say that by this time next year things will be different. Since change is the only constant I can’t be wrong. I like to hope that we learn from 2020 and pay way more attention to sound public health policy and budgets to support our epidemiologists and public health sectors.  And to recognize how quickly we can adapt to changing circumstances, even if we don’t like them – think school, work, tele-health… I can imagine that fine minds are already researching new and better ways of learning, working, healthcare delivery and alternate sources of energy, to name but a few.  Not to mention our long term care facilities desperately in need of improvement.

I always imagine that things will eventually get better and that is my experience. So I enter 2021 filled with realistic hope and will cross each bridge as it comes. Happy New Year to you all.

Notes

You can clearly see my message to you, at the end of this year. The image is thanks to my good friend, Patricia Ryan Madson, author of Improv Wisdom, one of my favourite books. And the banner photo is one I love that appeared on my desktop a few days ago. I was able to purchase it from Shutterstock and it is a view on Bruges. Bergen Norway by Tatyana Vyc. The reflections and primary colours seemed to suit my desire for a reflective closing of the year and a cheerful welcome to the New Year.

My warmest and most hopeful wishes to you all for a healthy New Year and one where we can breathe a little easier, in all areas of our lives. With appreciation to each and everyone of you, trudy

When Giving is All We Have by Alberto Rios

One river gives
Its journey to the next

We give because someone gave to us.
We give because nobody gave to us.

We give because giving has changed us.
We give because giving could have changed us.

We have been better for it,
We have been wounded by it—

Giving has many faces: It is loud and quiet,
Big, though small, diamond in wood-nails.

Its story is old, the plot worn and the pages too,
But we read this book, anyway, over and again:

Giving is, first and every time, hand to hand,
Mine to yours, yours to mine.

You gave me blue and I gave you yellow.
Together we are simple green. You gave me

What you did not have, and I gave you
What I had to give—together, we made

Something greater from the difference.

When Giving is All We Have

Notes

Note 1:) Thanks to Janice for introducing me to this poem. It seems just right for the giving season.

Note 2:) Last Sunday, my small Ottawa family had our 2nd annual book exchange. A gentle evening where we exchange books we bought for each other (by previously drawing names) and sit by the fire for a couple of hours and read together, with our favourite chocolates close at hand. Oh yes, also, a glass of wine and a hot chocolate for the children. It is our adaptation of the Icelandic tradition of jólabókaflóð . We love it.

Note 3:) This favourite Christmas tree is outdoors, in a courtyard, in old Quebec city. I took this photo, a few years ago when my book club held our December meeting there. It was a huge success and something to look forward to again. We can create amazing memories close to home. 

Note 4:) With so much thanks for your kind words and continuing to show up here and read this blog. I am so lucky. A deep bow to you all. Please do your best  to stay safe. Warmest wishes, Trudy

Note 5:) The final word is always for those going through heart wrenching times. Please take time to care for yourself and reach out for help when you need to do so. Here is a special poem that speaks to me. I hope it is helpful to you.

Adrift by Mark Nepo

Everything is beautiful and I am so sad.
This is how the heart makes a duet of
wonder and grief. The light spraying
through the lace of the fern is as delicate
as the fibers of memory forming their web
around the knot in my throat. The breeze
makes the birds move from branch to branch
as this ache makes me look for those I’ve lost
in the next room, in the next song, in the laugh
of the next stranger. In the very center, under
it all, what we have that no one can take
away and all that we’ve lost face each other.
It is there that I’m adrift, feeling punctured
by a holiness that exists inside everything.

I am so sad and everything is beautiful.

I have four  special poems tonight. It could be a dozen but I am restraining myself. A torrent of poems have recently come my way and poetry needs to be shared. Furthurmore, it is even better when spoken aloud. You may decide to do so in the quiet of your own room or  read one or two to a friend.  These are all self explanatory (my kind of poem) and need nothing more from me. Enjoy and take them to heart.

I Worried by Mary Oliver, Swan: Poems and Prose Poems

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers

flow in the right direction, will the earth turn

as it was taught, and if not how shall

I correct it?

 

Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,

can I do better?

 

Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows

can do it and I am, well,

hopeless.

 

Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,

am I going to get rheumatism,

lockjaw, dementia?

 

Finally, I saw that worrying had come to nothing.

And gave it up. And took my old body

and went out into the morning,

and sang.

AS IF TO DEMONSTRATE AN ECLIPSE by Billy Collins from Nine Horses

I pick an orange from a wicker basket

and place it on the table

to represent the sun.

Then down at the other end

a blue and white marble

becomes the earth

and nearby I lay the little moon of an aspirin.

 

I get a glass from a cabinet,

open a bottle of wine,

then I sit in a ladder-back chair,

a benevolent god presiding

over a miniature creation myth,

 

and I begin to sing

a homemade canticle of thanks

for this perfect little arrangement,

for not making the earth too hot or cold

not making it spin too fast or slow

 

so that the grove of orange trees

and the owl become possible,

not to mention the rolling wave,

the play of clouds, geese in flight,

and the Z of lightning on a dark lake.

 

Then I fill my glass again

and give thanks for the trout,

the oak, and the yellow feather,

 

singing the room full of shadows,

as sun and earth and moon

circle one another in their impeccable orbits

and I get more and more cockeyed with gratitude.

Winter; Tonight; Sunset by David Budbill from WHILE WE’VE STILL GOT FEET.

Tonight at sunset walking on the snowy road,
My shoes crunching on the frozen gravel, first

Through the woods, then out into the open fields
Past a couple of trailers and some pick up trucks, I stop

and look at the sky. Suddenly: Orange, red, pink, blue,
Green, purple, yellow, gray, all at once and everywhere.

I pause in this moment at the beginning of my old age
And I say a prayer of gratitude for getting to this evening.

A prayer for being here, today, now, alive
In this life, in this evening, under this sky.

NOTES

Note 1:) Have I told you before how poetry can heal, provoke, sooth, calm and help us to bear the unbearable? It can also make us laugh and lighten the load and inspire us to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Look at this tiny Haiku from Issa that encourages us to make our way slowly, imperfectly, one step at a time.

CLASSIC HAIKU edited by Tom Lowenstein- I just pre-ordered this new book.

Little snail,
slowly, slowly,
climbs Mount Fuji.  by Issa

Note 2:) I read that sales of Christmas trees have tripled and quadrupled this year with people decorating a tree for the first time. It makes sense to me that we all need extra light and warmth and comfort. I love walking in my neighbourhood with the glow from the lights and the brilliant moon.

Note 3:) I received a gift from my daughter yesterday. An advent village with my favourite Purdy’s chocolates. It is a fun and warmhearted gift and I was the lucky one, along with the grandchildren.

Note4:) I hope you find time for playfulness this month. It may not be your traditional holiday but with imagination and a little effort you may surprise yourself with something brand new, or something old that you dust off. Thank you for graciously reading my blog. I deeply appreciate you. Warmly, Trudy

Secular Sabbath update:

As you know, dear readers, I have become interested in reclaiming a secular Sabbath. Furthurmore, I am now a cheerleader for everyone to cultivate some version of this. For me it is a day where I can moodle; learn something new, especially in the creative arts, and have a complete break from the work that I love. Why is this important? From my point of view it is necessary to make breathing time. Time I can count on to devote myself to dabbling in drawing; a long walk; spending a few hours with my camera; talking to an old friend. Anything that involves  beauty, truth, love, delight, creating, and focus, even absorption. Maybe reading something that I am curious about but haven’t given it any time. Freedom for new things and/or recalling old things that I loved and have not made time for.

Mandala Drawing Lesson

Take this past Sunday. I had my first mandala drawing lesson with my new friend in the Netherlands. A wonderful and inspiring teacher, by the way. Having been a studious child with a perfect report card except for art, which was a C- in Grade 1, the blank page and a drawing pencil is scary. However, using a compass to draw the circles helped to get started, and joining dots and creating triangles took the edge off.

However, when it came to the colouring – where, what, how, and all the other things that one can add to a mandala,  I was back to uncertainty. But I stuck with it. And I did my best not to be defeated by comparison. That’s one advantage of living for three quarter’s of a century. You no longer let intimidation stop you; plus,I am much more easily satisfied and have a better sense of humor. I consider that a good thing. It’s a shame to let perfection stop us from doing anything new.

Here is what I am learning for myself and perhaps it will be useful for some of you.

No one size fits all. I have never been successful at finding or making time to do these things on a daily basis. Some of you can. I don’t manage to have time left over at the end of the day. It is my blueprint and I now work with what is. Consequently, it is far easier for me to take one entire day a week, where I simply say no to everything else in order to say yes to rejuvenation and a sense of play. No matter how tempting, doing work on Sunday evening seems, I continue to resist. Because I know we (meaning me too) all need time to unplug and essentially have a day of rest. A rest from changing what we usually do, so that we can do new things.

My new mantra is Do It On Monday.

 

One more word on drawing.

Drawing is one of the anchors of Living Well with Illness, based on the work of Dr. Itami. Drawing, in particular, was a skill all of Dr. Itami’s patients learned.

1. It activates the five senses and stimulates the brain
2. a chance to do one’s best
3. to pay close attention to the object
4. to offer drawings as gifts to others

Small, simple and casual drawings are something everyone can learn to do and it helps improve our focus and gives us a mental break while we are absorbed in the task.

We are all different.

Notes:

Note 1:) I figure that this winter even with the light at the end of the tunnel, is an opportune time for us all to cultivate our creative interests.

Note 2:) Here is something special to listen to for those who like poetry and the art of Hokusai, the famous Japanese artist of the Edo period. He is well known for his woodblock series which includes the iconic Great Wave off Kanagawa. Click here.

Note 3:) Stay safe through this crazy time and enjoy your life. These two ideas are not incompatible. Thank you for showing up once again and  I appreciate your company and your kind notes. With gratitude for life and all of you, Trudy

Note 4:) Oops, I almost forgot. My banner sketch this week is from Patricia Ryan Madson, one of her Etegami postcards.  And the blank note book, thanks to Unsplash and the photographer  Kelly Sikkema