I love watching them poke their heads above the ground, changing their location every year in the back yard, making their appearance in so many different varieties. Intriguing and delightful, they put a smile on my face every year. What are “they”?
Mushrooms! It’s that time of the year when dampness and earth combine and create mushrooms.
Last year, it was shaggy ink mushrooms (bottom photo). This year it’s — I haven’t a clue what they are. (top photo). It’s the first time they’ve appeared here … don’t know if they’re edible or poisonous but won’t eat them until I’ve done some research!
These days, there’s a lot of stress. People are reacting to the news. Author Munia Khan wrote that “if you feel all damp and lonely like a mushroom, find the thick, creamy soup of joyfulness and just dive into it in order to make life tastier.” What delicious words!
For those who are feeling like Khan’s mushroom description, may they “find the thick, creamy soup of joyfulness” … joy in Nature … joy in creativity … joy in new birth … joy in gardening … joy in hanging laundry outdoors in the sunshine … joy in picking fruit off a fruit tree … joy in possibilities … joy in … whatever! And then “just dive into it in order to make life tastier.”
It’s doable. It’s possible. Even if only for a brief moment. But in that brief moment, joy can begin to bubble up from within.
Thanks, little mushrooms, for gifting me with some new insights.
“Joy can spring like a flower even from the cliffs of despair” wrote author and aviator Anne Morrow Lindbergh. Is it possible? Can joy ever spring from the cliffs of despair?
I remember despair emerging as I heard responses by government officials when military-style guns were used in school shootings, at concerts, in synagogues / temples / churches, at sports events, in malls: “It’s too early – we don’t have all the facts” … “Now is not the time.” It’s a fact that military-style guns are used in mass shootings. If “now” is not the time, when will it be?
When the U.S. Constitution was signed, the weapon referred to was a rifle that could shoot 1-2 rounds per minute. The gun used in many shootings (A-15 style firearm) fires 45 rounds per minute! Why legalize such firearm? Get rid of them – learn from other countries like Australia which changed its laws in 1996. When that country enacted strict gun laws, there were no further mass shootings. Not one!
There is evil in the hearts of those who won’t support strict, enforceable gun laws. There is evil of the hearts of politicians who do nothing to protect human beings, but rather increase their investment portfolios by investing in the manufacture of military-style guns, and mumbling phrases about they didn’t want to lose their guns. No one is talking about the loss of guns for hunting, self-protection. It’s about the use of military-style guns.
The word “evil” doesn’t stop with politicians or with those who won’t support enforcing gun laws against military-style guns. The evil has spread as signs appeared at college campuses that read “Women are Property!” … as young men harass girls and young women with frightening shouts of “Your body. My choice!”
Evil. So why does this ‘Soulistry’ reflection speak of flowers?
Flowers have long been understood as one of the most recognized signs of love. I will always choose the path of love. I have been making and sending Fabric Flowers like these to those who are trying to find peace and joy in the midst of evil … and because I want to stand up for love – not evil. As our postal system is on rotating strikes, I’m no longer sending Fabric Flowers in person. Instead, I’m sending emails with a photo of the Fabric Flowers – as a visible sign. A visible sign of love. A visible sign of prayer. A visible sign for courage and support. A visible sign that there are people who stand with them, support them, love them.
Can “joy spring like a flower even from the depths of despair”? It can. But for that to happen, evil must be named.
Some Christians claim that what is happening is “God’s will.” I ask “what kind of God would sanction evil?” No the man known a Jesus. Jesus confronted and named evil, long ago. We must name evil today.
Along those lines, here’s something to think about … when the letters: E V I L are reversed, they become L I V E. Evil must be named, confronted and challenged so change can happen and all can l i v e.
As with all ‘Soulistry reflections, you are welcome and invited to share this with others and send a photo of the Fabric Flowers (or make your own!) with your own personal message. May joy spring like a flower – even from the depths of despair.
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.
Today is ‘Dia de Los Muertos’ – ‘Day of the Dead – November 2nd, every year. The first time I learned about Day of the Dead was the Disney movie “Coco” and as a result, I wanted to learn more about the Mexican holiday known as Dia de Los Muertos.
On November 2nd, ‘literary calaveras’ (satirical poems in which the poet writes about ‘Death’ taking someone to the land of the dead) are shared; altars (ofrenda) are made to remember someone who has died; and families visit the grave of loved ones, sometimes bringing a sugar skull to leave on the gravesite.
“Bringing a sugar skull to leave on the graveside?” What’s that all about? While I enjoy walking through cemeteries, am not afraid of death, or uncomfortable being with people who are dying, somehow, the thought of creating a skull and bringing it to leave on a gravestone, was a difficult concept to comprehend. Clearly it was time for me to do some research.
I learned that the tradition goes back to prehistoric times when people believed in a spiritual life after death and made an offering to the god of the underworld (Mictlantechutli) who was expected to guarantee safe passage to his world. Interesting! More research needed … and doing that, I learned that at that time, brightly coloured sugar skulls were part of the offering to Mictlantechutli, but, when Spanish conquerers arrived (all offering except for the colourful skull made of a sweet confection which was often placed in home altars as part of the offering to the deceased) were lost.
Then, in more recent times in Mexico, Dia de Los Muertos became a holiday – a holiday around death – and a very, very colourful one at that!
While I have no Mexican ancestry, I have never liked the idea of wearing black as a sign of mourning. Rather, I like the idea of celebrating … remembering the deceased with joy … wearing anything-but-black to funerals because for me, when family and friends have died, they are never entirely ‘gone’ … I keep them alive in my heart and in my memories.
I have a strong belief that I’ll re-connect with loved ones again … in some way. Not in a way I can explain – but ‘some way.’ Is that a certainty? No. No one can prove that such a re-connection can or will happen. But … is it possible? Why no?!
I’m a “possibility-thinker.” And until scientifically proven otherwise, I am going to continue to believe that when I die, in some form, in some way, loved ones and I will re-connect.
And in the meantime, time to celebrate (albeit belatedly), Dia de Los Muertos and remember my parents, my siblings, my husband, my grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends who have all departed this life. It is a special day to remember them with joy, celebration, and colour … and maybe create another sugar skull, Zentangle® style. 🙂
Thanks to Mexican culture for teaching me about this unique “Day of the Dead.”
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.
