It appears unexpectedly. … wears different costumes. … sometimes puts a smile on our face. … often brings sadness to our heart. … is not predictable either in timing or outcome.
Today and the coming days, weeks and months, grief is being and will be felt – personal losses, political losses, relationship losses
We need to acknowledge the presence of grief. We need to give it, its space.
As the ebb and flow of grief finds its way into your life may a gentle warm shaft of healing light wing your way, encouraging you to remember … “You are stronger than you think you are.”
And in the meantime, remember to breathe remember to be gentle remember to be kind to yourself.
As part of our national recognition of Remembrance Day each year in Canada on this day, November 11th, we sing “O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.” Over the years, women and men have stood “on guard,” defending borders and peacekeeping far away from Canada. They’ve been deployed on Operation Presence, Operation Crocodile, Operation Jade, and Operation Soprano, in Mali, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, South Sudan, and the Middle East defending borders in a variety of ways around the world in battles, skirmishes, wars.
Some returned home emotionally overwhelmed by what they have experienced. Some returned home physically disabled, addicted, in physical pain. Some returned home unable to find employment or housing. Some did not return home.
Each year on November 11th, we stand still. We stand still to remember their sacrifice and that of their families. We stand still for a very short moment in time, on one day of the year, while the families of the fallen stand and live with the pain of it all 365 days a year.
I was reminded of all of that as our car passed a house and I noticed, clearly visible from the street, the photo of a young man in uniform in a frame in the living room window.
It was just a photo, that’s all. Just a photo. Or was it?
What was it about that photo that grabbed at my heart? What was it about that photo that created a deep chasm in my soul? What was it about that photo that brought tears to my eyes and gripped my chest so I couldn’t breathe? “It” couldn’t be named. I only knew that my soul had been touched.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the salute. The car’s driver saluted the photo quietly, quickly, calling no attention to himself. For an ever-so-brief moment, the car’s driver was in another world … a world that connected him to this young man … a world that united them as siblings of conflict … a world that reminded him of the fragility of life and the happenstance of circumstance.
In the photo, a young man of eighteen or so. In the car, a man old enough to be the young man’s grandfather. And yet, for that one brief moment, they were brothers.
Salutes happen – some place – every day – on every land – in every continent. This salute … was different.
May we salute those who have served, sacrificed, suffered. May we salute those who served and still suffer in physical pain; in emotional pain; who deal with homelessness, unemployment, addiction, relationship break-up, depression, PTSD.
May our salute to them be translated into compassionate laws and practical ways to help all who have served and are still serving in conflict situations and in peacekeeping situations.
Thank you, all who have served. Thank you, all who are now serving. Thank you, to those who are about to serve.
Photos of “Wire Soldiers” ghosts of soldiers silently standing over their graves in the St John’s Churchyard, Slimbridge, U.K. More can be read about this project: https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-gloucestershire-46155057
Photo taken at the Cenotaph in Duncan, British Columbia, Canada
Photo (used with permission) of Canadian Scottish Regiment Association Band, Canadian Armed Forces (Army) Piper, Bill Buckingham, who piped for the Remembrance Day ceremony for St. Michaels University School, Victoria, British Columbia for over 35 consecutive years! Thank you, Bill, and all other pipers for your service.
For many around the world, last night was All Hallow’s Eve (Hallowe’en). Today is All Saints Day. Tomorrow is both All Souls Day and Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead). Together, the three days form what is known as “AllHallowTide.”
If you’ve seen the movie “Coco,” you’ll understand why I think of all of the days of AllHallowTide (October 31 – November 2nd) as “thin places.“
Thin Places – what is that? What does it reference? Celtic spirituality refers to “thin places” as places where the veil between this world and the eternal/Other world is thin, and where one can walk in two worlds as the Other world is more near.
Hallowe’en, All Saints Day, All Souls Day, and Día de los Muertos are “thin places” – where those gone before us can be remembered via cultural rituals and religious services.
Saints? Who are “saints”? Are saints people like St. Francis of Assisi, St. Hilda of Whitby, St. Hildegaard of Bingen, etc.? Yes – but for me, they’re not the ‘only’ saints.
I think of a saint as ‘someone the light shines through.’ The ‘ordinary’ saints … such as those who died and are dying, this very moment, because of war, hunger, poverty, violence, racism, politics … those whose “light has shone” at some time.
I think of … my parents, Joy and Eddie Mack … my husband Hans van der Werff … my brothers Eric Mack and Gerry Mack and sisters Lois Lucas and Fran Talbot. All gone from this earth, but not gone from memory or gratitude for their presence in my life. The Light of Love shone through each of them and my life was blessed.
I remember my teachers and mentors (especially Mrs. Lancey, Mr. Snyder, Miss Smith, the Reverend Jack Major) for the light of their mentorship, knowledge and love which “shone” through each of them and others I have been privileged to know and learn from over the years as ‘saints.’
At this time in history, I think of those who are standing up, speaking out for the voiceless, resisting fascism, encouraging the discouraged as ‘saints’ living in the ‘thin places’ of today.
Mahatma Ghandi (In his Spiritual Message to the World in 1931) seemed to speak of ‘thin places‘ when he said: “There is an indefinable, mysterious power that pervades everything. I feel it, though I do not see it. It is this unseen power that makes itself felt and yet defies all proof, because it is so unlike all that I perceive through my senses. It transcends the senses.“
The words of Linda Hogan (in her book “Dwellings”) brings the Celtic understanding of ‘thin places’ to a gentle place of understanding for me: “Suddenly, all my ancestors are behind me. ‘Be still. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands” they say.” First Nations peoples in Canada and Indigenous peoples around the world speak gently of their “ancestors” with great reverence and understanding. Some religious people pay homage to their ancestors with phrases such as “May their memory be a blessing” and “May s/he rest in peace.”
AllHallowTide for me is, indeed, a ‘thin place’ – a hallowed time – of connection with saints.
May we honour their memories, their wisdom, love, sacrifice, dedication with gratitude and remembrance. And may their memory be a blessing and may they rest in peace for all eternity.
November, welcome! In this part of the world , you bring wind. You bring rain. And politically this year, you bring ongoing devastations of war, growing tension, escalating fear and great global uncertainty. But I don’t want to focus on those.
Where I live, November has been known to be an opportunity to making time to experience a sense of calm. It’s intentional calmness — by slowing down … becoming more involved in our art/craft/hobby … curling up by the fire … getting lost in a great book … making comfort foods … being creative … catching up with friends by phone and mail … be-ing hopeful.
Yes, being hopeful. There is always hope. Perhaps not tangible. Perhaps not visible these days. But hope exists.
How is hope here if we are feeling fearful, isolated, uncertain? It’s here, because hope is here in us. We are the hope. We are the hope that after November … there will be a December … and a January … and a February, etc.
And that hope is not just for ourselves, but it is for those living in refugee camps, those at borders trying to cross and leave war-torn areas, those being arrested by ICE, those uncertain about being able to afford to buy food to feed themselves/their families, those making decisions about what to do when it comes to paying for medicine/doctor’s visits/hospitalizations with all of the medical insurance rises.
We cannot lose hope – because if we do, what are the ones who can see no hope (beyond the possibility of a glass of water, a crust of bread, a loved one released from the prison of a building that collapsed), what are they going to do?
May we take each month as it comes. May we take each week as it comes. May we take day as it comes. May we take each moment as it comes and look to this month of November as a month where courage will be found and where hope will prevail. Welcome, November.
A big of history … in some parts of the world, this night begins the ancient Christian three-day observance of AllHallowTide, predated from Celtic harvest festivals such as Samhain, designed as a time to remember those who have died. All Hallows’ Eve is the evening before All Hallows’ Day (also known as All Saints’ Day in the Christian calendar or ‘Hallowmas’). From the Old English ‘hallowed,’ meaning ‘holy’ or ‘sanctified’, it is now usually contracted to the more familiar word Hallowe’en.
Today is also Samhain – a Gaelic festival marking the end of the harvest season and beginning of winter or “darker half” of the year with celebrations beginning on the evening of 31 October, as the Celtic day began and ended at sunset.
For many, Hallowe’en is a secular celebration with people … carving pumpkins … apple bobbing … visiting haunted attractions … trick-or-treating. “Trick or Treat!” they shout as front doors are opened and children hold open their bags. “I’ve got the treats,” I reply “What trick (a song or dance or joke or riddle) can you offer in exchange?” First comes silence. Then giggles and happy faces on accompanying parents. And then, each year, the jokes come. The dancing feet tap. The songs erupt. And the riddles come forth. “Why is a seagull called a seagull?” “Because it flies over the sea, and if it flew over a bay it would be called a bagel!” A little girl, about three, recites her numbers in Spanish. A little boy says, “I remember you and this house. I’ve got my joke ready for you!” And he did!
For others, this day is part of their Christian religious observance … attending church services on All Saints Day on November 1st … lighting candles in remembrance of loved ones … visiting graves and paying their respects to the deceased.
As the last of the little ones leave with treats in their bags and smiles on their faces each year, the door is closed, the outdoor lights are turned off and I spend time reflecting on the innocence, the wonder, the fun of the night in the faces of the children and their accompanying parents.
The candleinside the pumpkin is extinguished, and a wee prayer of gratitude that a Spirituality of Play is still celebrated as “shadows of a thousand years rise again, unseen and voices whisper in the trees – tonight it’s All Hallow’s Eve!”
Fragility … the quality of being broken, damaged, delicate, vulnerable, wounded, weak. These days, many want to live in a world that is healthy, durable, safe and strong. They don’t want to live in a world that is fragile. Many want to be perceived and perceive themselves as healthy, durable, strong and resilient. They don’t want to perceive themselves as fragile.
But, life can be fragile. * Some leaders ignore the people they serve and instead, serve their personal greed and lust for power. * Weather changes result in … breathing difficulties … homes being damaged or razed … people, animals, crops being injured and destroyed * Killing of children happens … in classrooms … on the streets … in grandparents’ back yards … at concerts … churches … shops … * Unexpected health issues erupt and lives … finances … relationships are disrupted. * People of all ages live in fear of reprisal, prejudice, discrimination, ICE agents, revenge. * The pandemic was real: people died and long-haul health issues are on-going for many. * Wars continue with inexplicable horrors and devastating consequences. Fragility.
Life can be fragile because … people don’t listen … feelings are hurt … relationships end … misunderstandings happen … trust is eroded. Fragility. Life can be fragile because the voice of reason is silenced by … greed … ambition … desire for personal power … egotism … revenge. Fragility. Democracy begins to fade. Fragility. Grief causes hearts to break. Fragility. But … fragility isn’t always negative / bad.
Fragility can be seen as … resilience … possibility … hope … strength. Think of the heart. It pumps blood through the body every moment … every single day of life. Hearts are strong and resilient. We are, too. Think of the eggshell. It can be easily broken. But put a raw egg, in its shell, in the palm of a hand and squeeze. Even under pressure, eggshells are strong. We are, too.
The “I-don’t-know-what-it-is object” (less than one inch in circumference) in this image (which unexpectedly appeared in my garden while I was weeding), was delicate, strong, tiny, beautiful … like spun-gold. Fragility.
As evidenced by the egg, the heart, and this “spun-like-gold-I-don’t-know-what-it-is” object, we need to take comfort and realize that out of fragility, there is hope! Especially in these oh-so-difficult days.
Mindful that others have lived in difficult and fragile times before us (war, plague, violence, corruption), we can be hopeful … even if only for a moment. And then – we can be hopeful for another moment … and another … and another. Survival in the midst of fragility IS possible.
Fear. It’s palpable. And it’s growing … and growing … and growing.
Fuelled by conversations, social media and political actions it is a word that resonates and leaves little space for anything other than fear.
What to do? We could let the fear grow and grow until physical, emotional and spiritual paralysis sets in.
Or, we could transform our understanding of fear, and our approach to it into hope and F ace E verything that is A gainst R eason
with
H ealing O penness and P ossibilitie, by and for E veryone
Will changing our approach to a single word bring about change? … change in our actions, our attitudes, our abilities to cope?
How will we know … if we don’t try?
When fear attacks may we Face Everythingthat is Against Reason (FEAR) with Healing, Openness and Possibilities of peaceful action and response by and for Everyone. (HOPE)
This weekend, I went to church … ‘Garden Church’. What’s “Garden Church”? Mmmm, well, if a church is a place for worship, and worship is an expression of praise, reverence, joy and thanksgiving, then surely a garden with flowers and bees, colour and birds, fruit and grass, trees, bushes, and even bugs and weeds can be a place of worship.
And if so, surely an encounter with Garden Church can nourish the soul, nurture a sense of deep gratitude, and be a gentle reminder of the gift of creation and the miracle of birth, growth, life.
Garden Church … can be sacred and holy … and offer an opportunity for reflection, worship, praise, healing, thanksgiving, prayer, joy – gentle, spiritual growth.
Over the years, I’ve found Garden Church “calling” to me on sunny days as I take it all in … whether it’s a back yard, a rented veggie bed in a community plot, a deck with flowers/veggies in planters with colourful flowers, bees, burgeoning strawberries, fruit trees, bugs, shrubs, weeds, silence, shining sun, gentle warmth … sweet peace.
And not just sunny days! Garden Church can “call” on overcast and rainy days as one takes a walk around the neighbourhood, listening to the calls of the birds, the chatter and joy of the children, enjoying the beauty of flowers and plants in the front yards of my neighbours. I love it when Garden Church is enriched by nourishing rain, gently watering the plants, grass and flowers in the garden (like these pansies), and bringing beauty to my day.
Garden Church … thank you. You deepen my appreciation of nature. You nourish my understanding of the created order. You deepen my sense of spirituality in ways that touch my soul. And you bring an awareness of the blessings around me in ordinary ways, often when and where I least expect them.
Truly, I am blessed when I experience Garden Church.
In these difficult days when peace and tranquility, calm and joy can seem to be difficult to access, may we make time in some way to experience Garden Church.
If … news from the political scene leaves you feeling hopeless fires and floods threaten your home the lack of availability of vaccinations against measles, Covid etc. deeply concerns you climate control has you worried for future generations you are feeling frightened, unsafe, worried about the future because of personal health, relationship issues, financial situation, politics let others carry you in their prayers. But, what if you don’t believe in prayer? Then how about thinking of ‘prayer’ as ‘love’ and let others love you … be there for you … listen to you … march in protest … write letters … speak up so that “we can be – will be – each other’s strength.”
A gentle walk along a rural path brought forth images of summers long ago when a swing under the huge cherry tree in our back yard provided countless hours of relaxation and fun for one little boy – my son.
As he swung, his feet would move back and forth to maintain a rhythm, and he would hum, hum ever so quietly to himself. He was content with life. Content with himself. Happy. His world was peaceful, safe, gentle.
But for countless children around the world, their world is anything but peaceful, or safe or gentle. And they are anything but content or happy.
That’s not fair. That’s not right. That’s not the way the Universe is supposed to unfold. And it not only saddens me, it makes me angry.
So I dream.
I dream of a time when all children are safe from abuse.
… when soon-to-be parents take parenting classes when they first discover they are expecting a baby.
… when children go to school where they will learn the basics of language, mathematics, science, history, civics, geography, social responsibility, and where they will be exposed to physical education, the arts and play.
… when children arrive to school well-fed, and ready to learn.
I dream of a time when parents are offered support when they need it.
… when teachers are respected, well paid, and supported.
… when children are safe safe at home, safe at school, safe in their communities, safe from ICE.
I will continue to dream.
And I will act … by exercising my right to vote and vote for candidates to provide laws that protect, educate, nourish and nurture children so that they can live with clean air, clear water, nourishing food, safe homes / schools / communities, responsible parents, and freedom.
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