Remembrance Day (as it’s observed in Canada) is in two days, although many places will be closed Monday in lieu. I believe the date set reflects the end of World War I, ninety-nine years ago. I’m sure the ceremonies next year will not fail to mention the century which has passed.
The Great War. The war to end all wars. That’s what they called World War I, in the brief years leading up to World War II. But then World War II came. And then the Korean War. And the Vietnam War. And, in the background for decades, there was the Cold War. I’m old enough to vaguely remember the first war in Iraq. I was an adult by 9/11, which triggered the war in Afghanistan. Has that one even ended? And then a second war in Iraq.
Those are only the highlights. It seems like there’s always conflict somewhere in the world. Sometimes it’s contained within a single country. More often it’s between countries. And it never ends. If it isn’t in one part of the world, it’s in another. It goes back almost as far as human history. It will likely continue, in some form or another, until the end of this world.
It’s said we need to remember these conflicts. How they started. How they ended. Why they happened. All those sacrificed in the process. It’s also said those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. And what is the point of remembering, if not to learn from these events. The problem is those who do learn the lessons from history still have to watch those who didn’t repeat it. Over and over and over. Like watching a slow motion train wreck and feeling helpless to prevent it from happening.
And wondering how much more of this the world can take. How many people have to be sacrificed? How much land has to be devastated? How many resources have to be wasted? What will we do when there’s nothing left? How can people not see what effect this is having in our world right now?
I am ever so grateful to know this: In the end, Love always wins.
It’s that time of year again. The part of the year where I have to wake up in the dark and somehow find the energy to get up and get my daughter up and start our day. The part of the year where I may not see the sun until after my daughter has been dropped off at school.
I would happily stay in bed until there’s actual daylight outside. This getting up in the middle of the night (that’s what 7am feels like right now) is insane. I’m pretty sure humans were originally intended to sleep through the dark and be up with the sun… or at least whatever is passing for daylight.
And then Daylight Savings time will end. (Why do we even still have this in a society which has us up at all kinds of strange hours anyway?) And it will be dark outside by the time I’m taking my daughter to her late afternoon/early evening classes.
And then we’ll reach the winter solstice and it will be dark when I get up and dark when I’m making supper. And all I’m really going to want to do is hibernate. Seriously, why don’t humans hibernate? I would much rather do that than deal with the dark and the deep cold and the deep snow and ice.
Here in Canada, Thanksgiving falls on October 9th this year. A date which is rapidly approaching and I find myself calculating what more needs to be bought for dinner and when I have to pull the turkey out to thaw.
Turkey dinner is all fine and (usually very) good, but the point of Thanksgiving is to pause and express gratitude for the harvest (originally) and all the things we have. A time to stop and take stock of how much we really have in our lives.
Gratitude has become one of those words. Overused, too often to try to sell some service or thing. And when a word becomes one of those, it’s actual meaning seems to get lost in the buzz.
Because Gratitude is actually very important, provided it is combined with sincerity. It’s easy to say (or post) that you’re grateful for something or someone or some event. But are you actually feeling it? Are you really grateful for what you claim to be? Or are you merely caught up in the latest self-help trend?
What we are sincerely grateful for we are far less likely to take for granted. We’re more likely to remember to acknowledge its affect on our lives.
I know some things (people, events) are hard to feel true gratitude for. Blessings do come in some really obnoxious/unpleasant/upsetting disguises. Sometimes it’s a matter of doing the best we can now and finding the sincere gratitude in hindsight.
What are you sincerely grateful for in your life?
For myself, I’m incredibly thankful for my husband and all the ways he supports me and my work; for our beautiful, active, strong willed daughter; for my high strung fuzzball of a Bandit kitty; for all the resources I have to draw on to build my life and business; and for Life in Jesus Christ.
Sometimes all you can do is Breathe
I don’t remember exactly what I was looking at when this popped into my head. I’m fairly sure I was online, reading something someone had posted about their life going to pieces and being unsure what to do next. The specifics of the situation escape me, especially given how much of this kind of stuff I see daily.
Because lives fall apart all the time. Things, big or small, are lost. Plans fall through. What appeared to be a sure bet turns out to be anything but. I know I’m not the only one who feels like there is always “another shoe.”
And it’s all largely out of our control. Yes, some of these things trace, at least partially, back to the choices we’ve made. We can make the best choices we know how and life will still happen.
It’s all too tempting, when life sucks, to complain and blame and look for an external source to fix it all for us. But none of those things have any power to change what happened. They also have no power whatsoever to improve our future prospects. What they’re really good for is keeping us stuck.
What really needs to happen next is we need to breathe. Sometimes it’s all we can do.
One breath at a time
One step at a time
One day at a time
Not something I’ve ever been good at, although I’ve gotten somewhat better in recent years.
Overwhelm, confusion, discombobulation
These things I know far too well and I know they serve to make life and decision making harder instead of easier. They sap my energy and cause me to throw my hands up in the air and try to quit.
Because in the overwhelm and confusion and all the crap those dredge up (fear, doubt, struggle) it’s hard to know what to do. I find too many decisions made under these conditions don’t turn out well. Because when I feel like I’m drowning in all this, I start looking for answers externally. And there are all kinds of answers thrown out there. Everyone has a solution to my problems. The problem is, those are their solutions.
It’s in the Stillness
Because when I grow still, when I seek quiet reflection time, I’m reminded that the answers I seek, the solutions I need, aren’t out there at all. All those external solutions aren’t for me. The answers to all the most important questions are inside and it’s only in the Stillness I have the ability to hear them clearly.
Be Still and Know
Sit and breathe and look inside. Sit and breathe and ask all the questions. Sit and breathe and Know the answers aren’t out in the world at all. They’re right there, inside you, waiting for you to stop and sit and breathe and ask.
This is where you learn what’s True for you.
This is where you will find all the Love you could ever need.
This is where you Know what you need to move forward.
And it will be scary and hard and you will want to quit and you won’t want to see or hear or feel. And you will be strongly tempted to give in to all the distractions around you. And then, if you remain still, it will get easier and life will flow far better. The flows will carry you higher and farther. The ebbs won’t freak you out as badly. And all the things you desperately long for will seem less impossible… maybe even feel more real, more achievable.
And you will find it easier to Be Still.
And all those external solutions which aren’t really for you anyway won’t seem nearly so appealing.
I didn’t post last week because I spent last Thursday on the road, doing the approximately ten hour drive required to get from home to the Okanagan. Because, last Saturday, there was a party to celebrate my grandparents 60th wedding anniversary. And because it’s been nearly two years since I was last able to see most of that side of my family. Fortunately, the wildfires plaguing British Columbia this year weren’t an issue along the route we took.
Being down there, seeing family I haven’t seen in a while, learning things I never knew about my family’s history, visiting with family and old family friends… I wish I had more opportunity than it feels like I have now. I hate living so far away from them. Most of them don’t text or Skype. Telephone is hard for me, for several reasons. If we could see any clear way to do so, we would happily move closer to them.
When I was growing up, family and family history were all around me. Vacations were used to visit relatives and attend family reunions. Family stories were brought up all the time. I wish I could remember more of the stories I have heard. I wish I could’ve heard more from the people these things happened to. I’ve lost four of the six grandparents I knew as a child. The other two are into their 80s and not in the best of health, which was partly why the summer celebration of an anniversary which actually falls between Christmas and New Years.
Heritage is such a huge part of personal identity. Family and family history often serve as a tether… a place to go back to when life gets too overwhelming. It’s what we build on, whether better or worse, when we create our own lives and stories. It influences our perception of ourselves. It influences how we relate to all kinds of aspects of our lives.
I watch my daughter grow and learn and I wonder what she’s learning about the meaning and history of family. She’s grown up surrounded by grandparents and aunts and uncles (biological and named) and she’s hearing some of the stories, whether she understands them now or not. I think about what I would like her to learn, how to pass values to her, what she will think of it all once she’s old enough to seriously consider what she thinks of it all.
How do I tell my daughter what my life has been like and how it influences the way I’m raising her?
How do I tell my daughter all the things I would like her to know about family and life and her options for the future?
What will my legacy to my daughter be?
For nearly a week now, we’ve had heavy smoke in the air. There are fires to the east, south, and west of where I live. The province has declared a state of emergency as multiple towns are evacuated and thousands of people displaced. While smoky air makes for spectacularly colourful sunsets, it isn’t good for anything else. Certainly not for air quality and anyone who has breathing trouble.
I can’t imagine having to leave my home and know it might not be there when I get back. People are losing their homes… I’ve seen news footage of what appears to be an entire community burnt to the ground. They’re out of work, staying in temporary shelters of all kinds, dependent on the charity of others as they wait to hear when they can go back and see what’s left of their lives.
On the flip side, all kinds of people and organizations are stepping up to help. To work in the fire zones, trying to contain and extinguish the fires. To offer assistance to those in need of it. To open their homes to strangers in need of a place to stay. To gather resources to help rebuild what has been burnt to the ground. I love how situations like this bring out a kinder side of humanity.
I have extended family who live in the affected area. Some of them I’ve seen Facebook posts from and know the people, at least, are okay. Some I haven’t seen anything from and can’t help being concerned for. Undoubtedly there’s someone in the family who has heard, but I’m often out of the loop on family news (on that side especially) unless it crosses my Facebook feed.
Although the last couple days have been overcast, with just a touch of rain, the whole province desperately needs a few days of steady rain. Lightning is one of the major causes of wildfires and not something we need right now. A steady downpour would be much more helpful. (And to think only a couple months ago some of these communities were struggling with flooding and too much water.)
And I have one very selfish reason for wanting these fires out and the highways reopened. I want to make it to the party for my grandparents 60th wedding anniversary, which is going to mean either travel through what are currently fire zones or a long detour around on roads I’m not nearly as familiar with.
I dread putting anything out where other people can see/read/react to it. I really do.
I know there are a million thoughts and opinions on the subject out there. People’s experiences. Ways to get over it. Ways to work around it.
None of that makes it any easier for me. And, if I let myself stop and think about it, it’s exhausting.
And yet I keep trying to work on my business. I keep coming back to this blog. I keep putting things out there. I probably always will.
Yes, I do know there is a gap of about a year and a half between posts on this blog.
Yes, I have been more or less in hiding.
Yes, I am slowly attempting to ease back into a number of things. It’s a very slow process as the stuff in my life shifts and then shifts again.
I’m having to relearn, yet again, how to live some way other than constantly lost in my own head. It’s hard habit to break. It’s such an old habit, so deeply ingrained.
I grew up lost in my own head. I think I was trying to survive. Except somewhere in trying to survive, I never really learned how to live. And only now, in my thirties, am I trying to figure out how to really live instead of merely survive. Too many days I wonder if it’s even possible now.
And yet I know women far older than I am are walking the same path, unlearning the same lessons so they can learn new ones.
How to live in the light instead of someone’s shadow. How to find a voice so long ago silenced. How to stand alone. How to really truly Love. How to be a whole human being. How to live out all these things so our daughters learn them early.