It’s not a good day for many in the world. And especially not for those in Ukraine. Four years ago today, Russia invaded Ukraine.
On this, the fourth anniversary of that terrible event, tangling in colour helps distract me from the sterile black/white images in my mind of menacing trucks rolling down city streets, people hovering in bombed-out hospitals, children growing up terrified, and democracy on a fragile thread in that and far too many countries.
As we move about each day – as we drive, shop, create, attend our meetings, appointments, go to work/school/worship, may we think of the people of Ukraine and other places in the world where that same scenario is commonplace.
Let us think ‘hope’. Let us pray ‘peace’. Let us send thoughts of ‘protection’ to them. May freedom be theirs. May their reality change soon and may the people of Ukraine know that the world has not forgotten them.
Colour and Hope! I send them colour – and hope – this, and all, days. We need colour and hope in this world as reminders that rainbows still cross skies – somewhere. Reminders that children still dance and sing – somewhere. Reminders that freedom still exists – somewhere.
SLAVA UKRAINI!
********************** (An aside: this piece of ‘colour and hope’ was done on something called ‘scratch paper’. I don’t find it easy to work with, but love the surprising and unexpected colours that emerge and thought it the perfect medium for this reflection! That’s my hope and prayer for the people of Ukraine … that there will be surprising and unexpected victories for them that will remind them that there are people of every colour around the world who are praying, supporting, surrounding them with thoughts of love and protection.
For those familiar with Zentangle®, this is an attempt at a HQ fragment called ‘Obawa’.
Hello, Sunday! A new day begins. A new week begins.
And with these new beginnings, a wish … a prayer … a hope. May hatred, violence, fear, terrorism, self-seeking opportunism and seeking power for personal control or gain take flight this day from the worlds of politics religion, countries, communities, homes, media and each of us.
Hello, Sunday! A new day begins. A new week begins with a wish … a prayer … a hope.
May goodness .. love, hope, self-control, truth, kindness, patience, gentleness, thoughtfulness, joy and peace be released in little ways, in big ways and in-between-ways.
Hello Sunday!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The tiny lights nestled around the daffodils, Witch Hazel branches and stone angel statue on my mantle hopefully light the way to hope and healing for all experiencing darkness. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If only it were possible to see democracy surviving. Even “just a little bit.” But, the loss of democracy is on the rise in the United States, around the world, and even here in my beloved Canada.
The phrase “It wouldn’t happen here” has been spoken by people who voted for someone who told them what he would do. And when he began to do it, they came up with excuses. And then more things happened that they didn’t think would happen. And they made excuses.
And now?? When climate change and the threat of nuclear war are added to the rising hatred, violence, terrorism, it’s not surprising that people are asking “Is any place safe these days?”
And the answer to that question? Schools are not. Universities are not. Hospitals are not. Marathons are not. Sport events are not. Homes are not. Public events are not. Streets are not. Religious buildings are not. Government buildings are not. Shopping centres / malls are not.
Fear grows more and more as personal lives are dramatically impacted. Intolerance spreads as “someone” must be the reason for prices going up, jobs being lost, hatred increases. And the “us” and “them” language develops its own life.
When that happens, we forget that joy abounds … weddings happen … lives are celebrated … babies are born … lives are extended because of medical intervention … children laugh and play … elders share their wisdom and experience … musicians, photographers, dancers, painters, thespians, calligraphers, potters, weavers, chefs, gardeners, carpenters, fabric artists, knitters, landscape artists, writers and many others continue to awaken the creative spirit, touch the soul and inspire the mind.
When fear and negativity rise to the surface, decisions made by leaders focus our attention on the death knell of life. If only it were possible to see democracy surviving. Even “just a little bit.”
My spirit grieves for the lives that have been lost, the ongoing erosion of democracy, the ways selfishness keeps us from changing our habits to protect this planet for future generations.
What can be done? We can choose to see our world entering the death of the tomb. Or we can choose to see our world entering the birth of the womb.
I don’t want to give up. I won’t say the world is doomed. I believe in possibility. Perhaps a baby is being born this day or a child is already born who may conceive of a way to bring compassion out of this chaos, who may find a way to save this planet from climate devastation, who may find a way to motivate people to a world of kindness, compassion, love, community and hope.
May we not give away our ability to choose to face each tomorrow with hopeful expectation/anticipation … even if it is only “just a little bit.”
I remember … every year. It was a Wednesday morning.
Nothing unusual was happening in the classroom where I was teaching a class of high school students. Nothing unusual, except they were more attentive than usual. But, ‘something’ was different. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then a bell rang – not the usual “time for the class to end” bell, but a different bell. Somehow the students knew what it meant. They slowly got out of their seats and headed in single file to the door, quietly. “Miss,” one of the students said, “We’ll be back once we’ve been to the chapel and had the ashes put on our foreheads.”
Just then the Principal came into the classroom and ushered the students out, apologizing that she’d not advised me about the interruption ahead of time. “The students will be back in the classroom in about half an hour” she said. And with that, she and the students left the classroom.
I had just turned twenty, three months earlier. It was my first teaching position. I was teaching in a private school – a Roman Catholic school. At that time, my knowledge of Christianity, let alone Roman Catholicism, was limited. Very limited. Though I had been raised in a loving home, I had not been baptized or exposed to a church that included rituals anywhere close to“ashes on foreheads.” All of it was so new to me.
The school was quiet – no one in the corridors. The only sound I heard came from the Chapel – quiet music, muted voices. When the students returned to the classroom, their foreheads had a black substance smudged on it. They were sombre, quiet. Something about them was different. But again, I couldn’t quite figure it out.
When I asked them to tell me what had happened in the Chapel, the students seemed to take delight in being my teacher! “Today is the day when we tell God we are very sorry for the times we’ve moved away and that we want to be better people.” But, I wondered, why the public display of the cross on their foreheads? “Ah, Miss, that reminds us that we’re all human and that we began as dust and will end as dust.”
Sounded to me like an ugly threat – “You’re going to die!” Well, I knew that one day I would die, but why would anyone want to go to church to be reminded that every year, “from dust you have come; to dust you will go”? It seemed incredibly maudlin to me.
After school that day, I encountered Harry, one of the high school students I tutored. He was one of the few non-Christians at the private Roman Catholic school he attended and so was exempt from Chapel. But there he was, with a smudged sign of the cross on his forehead. He told me that his friends said they were going to receive the imposition of ashes and invited him along. He went, not because he wanted to, but because his friends had invited him and besides, he was curious about it all.
When he received the ashes on his forehead, he said that he felt that something had changed. He shared these words which he wrote in his journal … “As I received the ashes, all at once I realized in a whole new way, that it’s really true – “we are dust and we will return to dust when we diet.” He realized at that moment that life is transitory … and that he would not live forever.
In Christian churches around the world, people gather to receive the ashes on their forehead and hear the words “Dust thou art and to dust thou shalt return.” Certainly no one’s favourite words, but they represent a truth of which we all need to be reminded from time to time. Sadly, September 11th did that. January 6th, did that. Every time there is a school/community/church shooting, an environmental tragedy, a loved one dies, people realize their own mortality.
That’s what Ash Wednesday does. It is a sober reminder that we are not immortal. We are mortal. Ash Wednesday is a reminder that it is impossible to handle our problems and live our lives without help from anyone else. Paradoxically, that is precisely the point at which we can become new people.
Acknowledging our humanity, our vulnerability, our mortality helps us to live more fully. One way to do that, is to receive the imposition of ashes on our foreheads. That ritual is simply an outward symbol of what is hoped would happen internally and a commitment to be the best we can be.
Do we need to be a Christian to do that? No. Do we need to have experienced an Ash Wednesday service before? No. Do we need to be connected to a church to do that? No. All we need to do is accept our mortality, and allow the ashes to be a sign that we recognize that our mortal life is a gift and commit ourselves, with the help of the Holy One, by-Whatever-Name, to use the rest of our mortal life to the very best of our ability.
Today, Ash Wednesday, marks the beginning of the Season of Lent, the 40-day penitential period before the celebration of Easter. The imposition of ashes, an ancient Jewish tradition, was a public sign of an individual’s repentance. By the seventh century, the Christian church adopted it as part of the Church’s Lenten preparation when people would find a way receive the imposition of ashes.
Some churches are supplying ashes for individuals/families so that they can sprinkle the ashes into the palm of their own or a family member’s hand and apply it themselves. Some are encouraging the use of a cotton Qtip which could be dipped into the ashes and the ashes placed on the forehead that way … giving members dirt, seed and water instead of ashes, acknowledging that from the dust of the world, new hope springs … encouraging people to mark their hearts with the sign of a heart or the Cross as an outward and visible sign that of the intention is to turn hearts over to God/Higher Power and experience unconditional love and forgiveness in a new way.
Whatever way each of us chooses to observe Ash Wednesday, may we enter into the ritual with reverence and humility and with gratitude. Ash Wednesday is, for me, a gift … a precious opportunity to acknowledge my humanity, my vulnerability, my mortality. May this Ash Wednesday be a moment of grace for our world.
In many parts of the world, tomorrow marks the beginning of a six-week period called the Season of Lent … a time of introspection – of “slowing down and taking stock.”
The Season of Lent is not signalling an end to the war in Ukraine or a recognition that very bad decisions, impacting the lives of countless lives are being made. But it can be an opportunity of metanoia. For those who observe the Season of Lent, many follow the practice of “giving something up” for Lent (meat, candy, chocolate, liquor etc), I’ve never liked that perspective. Instead, I choose to “put on” instead … put on love.
But why only for those who observe the Season of Lent? Why not everyone?
These are difficult times. It’s not unusual for people to be frightened, scared, terrified. It’s not unusual that negativity quickly spreads.
Over the years, many words have been used as metaphors for love. My metaphor for love this year is ‘baby stroller’. Yes, it’s a surprising metaphor, but this photo of a train station in Poland shows baby strollers left by Polish moms for Ukrainian moms escaping the war in Ukraine with babies in their arms. The Polish moms “gave -up” the convenience of the stroller for their own child and “put on” love – for people they didn’t even know.
For the Forty Days and Nights of the Season of Lent, I won’t be ignoring the reality of the political chaos. But when I speak-up-and-out about injustice, cruelty, evil, I’ll find a way to “even-the-playing-field”, in some way. Metanoia!
“Meraki.” [may-rah-kee] May today be a ‘MERAKI’ day. 🙂
Modern Greeks often use the word ‘meraki’ to describe “doing something with soul” … aka – when you put something of yourself into whatever you’re doing.
Meraki is about creative, loving, soul-awakening acts. Whether preparing a meal … caring for a garden … creating something artistic … caring for someone who is ill, lonely, grieving, in pain … arranging a room … tangling … praying for a situation/person … whatever. If it’s done with soul, with passion, with love, then it’s ‘meraki’.
An ancient Chinese proverb offers a gentle reminder of ‘meraki’: “If there is light in the soul, there will be beauty in the person. If there is beauty in the person, there will be harmony in the house. If there is harmony in the house, there will be order in the nation. If there is order in the nation, there will be peace in the world.”
This weekend in some parts of the world, some are sharing ‘light in the soul’ … ‘meraki’ … in acts of kindness, thoughtfulness, loving gestures/actions as they mark Valentine’s Day. Expressing ‘meraki’, they are letting another know that they are ‘hearted’ – loved’.
Sadly, while of this is happening, some are alone, receiving none of the above. They are lonely, isolated because of illness, weather, grief, hurt feelings, poverty, self-hatred, fear. Oh the fear caused by politics, evil leaders, equally-evil minions.
This Valentine’s day of commercial love is anything but a day of soul, of joy, of love. Where is the meraki in the commercialism? If you are one of those people, my hope is, if only for a moment, you will consider yourself “hearted,” and loved, and receive my little ‘TULILUV’ tangled tile image at the top of this reflection.
MAY you experience the love that went into its creation. MAY this Valentine’s Day be a little brighter than it might otherwise have been, and bring a gentle flicker of light in your soul. MAY the wise Chinese proverb come to fruition, so that there will be MERAKI … “light” in each soul … “beauty” in each person … “harmony” in each home … “order” in each nation …“peace in our hearts, countries, world.” AND MAY we “be each other’s strength”: https://soulistry.com/lets-be-each-others-strength
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ P.S. If you’re into tangling and would like to have the step-out of my TuliLuv tangle (upper right corner of the heart in the image ), just let me know. Happy to share. 🙂
