Remember the poem “Spring has sprung, the grass has riz, I wonder where the birdies is”? Some say it was written by Ogden Nash, others say it was e.e. cummings, but apparently no one really knows. Regardless of who actually created the little ditty, many often remember today – the first day of Spring in this part of the world.
This time in 2019, not only had spring sprung but so had the pandemic: the COVID19 virus. Big time. As years passed, increasing numbers of people were diagnosed with the virus and as the world moved beyond social-distancing into self-isolation, claustrophobia and signs of depression began to settle in on many. People living in small spaces, those who had to quarantine, those who couldn’t share a meal or give/receive a hug experienced mental disquiet. Fear about what the news would bring tomorrow, next week, next month was ever-changing and on the rise.
As vaccines were created and people began to be vaccinated and ‘numbers’ dropped, the world began to relax – until last month when a new fear about “what the news will bring tomorrow” surfaced because of war in Ukraine and the growing nuclear threat.
When … will the fear stop? Why … is there evil in the world? How … will the world become a gentle place? What … needs to happen so that people experience life as blessing than curse?
When I consider things that cause fear to rise up within me or others, be that – flying in an airplane – the pandemic and becoming seriously ill – living in a country where democracy is nonexistent -being surrounded by war – having no hope, I do what I can to refocus.
Before going to sleep, I consciously focus my thoughts on a blessing from each day: … an emotion … an experience … a relationship … an insight … something someone did for me or something I did for another and in the doing, I was blessed to be part of it … a memory … a conversation … a quotation … an image … a book … a song … a phone visit with a friend … a piece of music that stirred me.
Sometimes the blessing has come in a blog … a photo … a special email … a word spoken that touched my heart/spirit/mind … a colour with special significance … an ability that I’ve taken for granted most days … an experience of kindness expressed … a walk out in Nature … a moment of calmness in the cacophony of the the day. It can be … anything!
I write down whatever it is that brought a blessing my way that day and indicate the date. Then the note is put into a little box or jar or written in my Journal. I don’t look at it for a month at which time, in a quiet moment, I open the box/jar/Journal and read about the blessings I’ve experienced in the past month.
No matter what kind of month I think I may have had, the slips of paper are a tangible reminder that every day in that month, there was at least one thing which tugged at my heart / mind / spirit and blessed me.
Sometimes, I forget the blessings that touch me because I focus on the yuck-of-life.
Sometimes, I ignore the wonders of the world around me, the things I take for granted, and focus attention on the hurts, concerns and fears.
Sometimes, I forget the things that put a smile on my face.
The physical and emotional ramifications of the pandemic and the war in Ukraine and the threat of nuclear weapons can be serious. While there isn’t any scientific proof that simply recalling one blessing for every day for a month won’t rewire our brain from anxiety to calm, who knows – it might!
Each year when Spring arrives, the “Spring has Sprung” poem goes through my head and puts a smile on my face. Daffodils do, too. Looking at them is a wonderful breather from all the news about the pandemic, climate change and war … and a blessing.
And so I focus on blessings – be they daffodils, sunflowers, the laughter of a child, the kindness of strangers, a creative outlet/opportunity, the courage of Ukrainians, the hope.
These are difficult days. A change in focus from fear to blessing could help diminish the anxiety.
Watching the Paralympic Games today, I was overwhelmed by the emotions it unleashed.
While I was rooting for all of the incredible athletes who have been training for years and waiting for their moment and of course, those athletes from my own country of Canada, I was struck by a deep inexplicable emotion as I watched the Ukrainian athletes compete with such courage, boldness, determination and athleticism.
How they managed to compete while their country was at war, I will never know. Many of their loved ones were huddled in underground shelters; other loved ones were dealing with famine, explosions and trying to escape the horrors.
In spite of the worry and fear for their loved ones and country, the Ukrainian athletes not only competed, but were outstanding in their categories.
Questions poured forth as the Paralympics came to a close: are these men and women safe? Will they be? In the closing ceremonies, reference was made to these questions and subtle messages were given to assure the world that the Ukrainian athletes would be safe as they left the Paralympics and China.
This night and in the coming days, along with praying for the people of Ukraine, my prayers will be focused on each of the Ukrainian Paralympic athletes, their coaches and team members from Ukraine.
As their bodies recover from the incredible physical strain of the Paralympic competitions; as their minds and spirits deal with the horrors of what they, their loved ones, and country face; and as they try to absorb the incredible mixture of emotions they have been and are now experiencing, may each of them be safe.
Some things are easy to learn. Some things are not so easy to learn. Some days the learning is huge. Some days it is subtle.
Some days the learning is about … me – what I believe … who I am … things I need to work on.
Some days the learning is about … others – who are hurtful or loving or kind or mean-spirited or generous or resentful or kind or angry or how gracious and compassionate people can be.
Some days the learning involves … a new approach to technology, art, gardening, writing, music or even a new checkerboard move. Some days the learning is about politics, history, literature, religion, cultures, language. And some days it’s a combination of things.
Each night before I go to bed, I ask myself “What have you learned today?” Usually, the answer comes swiftly followed by a silent prayer of gratitude for the lesson.
But when a difficult moment happened and I experienced betrayal … a promise had been made … then broken … and then lied about … and it hurt … what did I learn from that?
The more I thought about it … the more I thought about it. And I found it difficult to forget … difficult to let it go … difficult to move on.
When I went to bed that night, I asked myself “What have you learned today?” But there was no answer and I didn’t sleep well that night. I got up in the wee hours, made a cup of crystal tea and in the stillness and asked the question again: “What have you learned today?”
The answer came quickly. “Forgiveness. You could have learned about the importance of forgiveness.” I could have but questions began to surface … was the individual apologetic? … was betrayal acknowledged? … did I want to forgive?
I knew the honest answer was the same each time: “No.” and I could feel the hurt rising again. I knew I needed to review the questions again, so I began with the last question: “Do I want to forgive?”
*Want* to forgive?
When I experience betrayal or someone gossiping, making assumptions about my character; or experience cruelty, injustice, downright meanness, the word ‘forgiveness’ enters my thoughts and I try to move in that direction. But sometimes, it takes me a long time. A. Very. Long. Time.
I understand forgiveness is integral in spiritual and personal growth, so I work on it. Not for the sake of the other, but for my sake. Maybe that’s why forgiveness is called soul-work.
It’s ‘work,’ alright. Hard work.
I wish forgiveness came easily. I wish I didn’t have to experience some lessons over and over and over again. And yet because I know that the end result can be personal growth, I persist.
Two situations this past year were challenging. One situation was two-part. The first part only took a few days for me to forgive. But then it happened again – the second part of the same situation with the same person who, once again, apologized and promised to not let it happen again. I found myself back in the lesson-mode again, trying to determine the advisability of trusting that person again and of trying to forgive. It took me a little longer but gratefully, I was able to forgive that person again.
But the second situation, took a long time to move into a state of forgiveness. A full year. 🙁
Eventually, I was able to forgive – not for the sake of the other, but for the sake of my own soul.
It’s true … learning about and then entering into a posture of forgiveness is soul work. And, it’s worth it.
We’ve heard others say the word.
We’ve said the word in the past.
We’re saying that word now.
“Impossible.”
A world where fresh air is available is impossible
because of climate change.
An end to war is impossible
because the oppressor and his allies have a stranglehold on Ukraine and its terrified citizens.
When faced with something unbelievable happens
the phrase “It’s impossible!” emerges.
And yet, some things are impossible.
… human beings can’t fly unassisted by technology
… birds can’t speak English or French or Japanese or …
… dinosaurs don’t roam the earth today.
But then again,
some things are possible!
When I noticed daffodils protruding from a steep hill on rocks in below-zero temperature, I wondered if ceasefire in Ukraine could be possible.
“Can Ukraine survive on the rocks of war?”
Sometimes, we need remember that the word ‘impossible’ says “I’m possible!”
Personal situations may cloud the horizon.
Political decisions may cause fear.
It may seem as if what is needed
is impossible.
But if the focus on the word I M P O S S I B L E
is always on the negativity of the letters,
we don’t see possibilities in the same letters.
“I’M POSSIBLE”
Who would have thought that a bunch of daffodils growing out of a rock would reinforce a concept which is attributed to a saying by actress Audrey Hepburn?
Daffodils growing in below-freezing temperatures on rocks
… are possible.
Human beings dealing with terrifying situations
(personal illness, financial downturn, unemployment etc.)
… are possible.
Humanity’s future
… is possible.
What if each person in the world
thought, said, prayed the phrase
I’M POSSIBLE.
Thank you to the international team of Romi Borax Marks (USA), Annie Taylor (UK) and Anica Gabrovec aka Zen Linea (Croatia) for a gentle time of art, remembering and praying today in solidarity with the people of Ukraine.
I had some things I wanted to include … the national flower of Ukraine (sunflower), but couldn’t find a step-out that worked for me so ‘did something” in yellow and added blue around the edge as Blue and Yellow are the colours of Ukraine’s national flag) … the dove in white – angel for the souls already lost on both sides: Ukrainians and Russians (most of the Russian troops are very young conscripts, unaware they would be invading Ukraine). … and I wanted to do it all on a round sphere to represent the solidarity around the world for the people of Ukraine.
This night, as I head off to bed, I set aside a gnawing sense of the presence of evil in the world and choose to focus on possibility, love and hope.
And I offer thanksgiving for the President and First Lady of Ukraine and Cabinet members, the courageous people of Ukraine, the Russian dissenters, and the growing gathered crowds of people around the world in support of the people of Ukraine.
The sunflower is the national flower of Ukraine. No matter how small, or how little evidence of light there is, sunflowers seek out the light (the sun) hold their heads high are a symbol of loyalty to something that is brighter and bigger than themselves.
Similarly, Ukrainians seek out the Light hold their head hight and symbolize loyalty to something that is brighter and bigger than themselves … their country.
A few days ago, a Ukrainian woman expressed her defiance and outrage at a Russian soldier who was blocking a street in a residential area of Henichesk, a port city in southern Ukraine. She angrily shouted at the Russian soldier, demanding to know why he was there. Then she told him to put sunflower seed in his pocket so that flowers would grow when he dies on Ukraine’s soil.
In spite of the icy, frigid, terrifying situation they are in, like these sunflowers, Ukrainian heads are up looking for the Light hopeful united loyal to their country.
Keep holding your heads high, Ukrainians. Keep following the Light!
