An Omen
“When each day is the same as the next,
it’s because people fail to recognize
it’s because people fail to recognize
the good things that happen in their lives
every day that the sun rises.”
every day that the sun rises.”
~ Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
Badlands
I believe in
the love that you gave me
I believe in the faith that can save me
I believe in the hope and I pray
That some day it may raise me
Above these badlands
~ Bruce Springsteen
I believe in the faith that can save me
I believe in the hope and I pray
That some day it may raise me
Above these badlands
~ Bruce Springsteen
My Love
It never fails to deliver precious gifts in the form of smooth stones, colourful shells, and creatures beyond my imagination. A sardine-like fish washes up on the shore. Its silvery skin glimmers in the morning light. Its eyes plead with me. I gently pick it up and hold it in wonder for a moment before tossing it back to safety.
Ceaselessly, waves approach the shore sounding like distant thunder and recede in an effervescent fizz. Its rhythm soothes and heals my sensitive soul. With a mix of fear and excitement, I wait to feel the push of the wave on my surfboard. By an act of grace or pure luck, I pop up to my feet the first time I try and take a short euphoric ride. Adrenaline and endorphins prevent me from feeling the sting of sand scraping my knees when I fall off. It’s not until later that I see the scratches and deep purple that stains my bruised and tender knees.
Even still, my muscles ache pleasantly. Satiated, my body hums with warmth. At times I am overwhelmed by your beauty and can’t hold back tears. All too soon it’s time to leave and I wonder how I will manage. Must I live out my days knowing that our time together will be, at best, intermittent?
Now that I am gone, do you miss my delicate feet wading in your depths; my loving touch as my fingertips skim your shimmering surface? Do you long for my adoring gaze? Does your heart ache with the loss of my presence? My Love, please tell me, why must we be apart?
Beauty Is an Ache
“Beauty is an ache, a presage.
A glimpse, a longing, and a
bewildering ecstasy.”
~ Beth Powning
The Bat-Poet
“The trouble isn’t making poems, the trouble’s
finding somebody that will listen to them.”
finding somebody that will listen to them.”
~ Randall Jarrell (Illustrations by Maurice Sendak)
Friends?
Looking over our most recent additions to the garden this
morning—butterfly milkweed, heliotrope, dragon’s blood clover, and African daisies—I heard what I thought was a cat padding through the grass. I was kneeling down
and the animal was so close it brushed past my sweater. The encounter was only
a couple of heartbeats. Time enough for my brain to register though that it was
not a large ginger cat, but a fox. The
same radiant fox that pranced past my car earlier this week when I was backing
into my driveway.
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| Illustration: David Lupton |
I am in awe of this creature. It’s agile, graceful, and
seems playful (naïve though I am, it might have been stalking me and at the
last moment decided that I was too big to eat!). Nonetheless, it is quite
something to have a wild animal approach so closely of its own freewill. Pure magic!
To continue the theme of red (passion), we also have multiple
cardinal pairs nesting in the neighbourhood. I’ve become accustomed to their
calls and am often rewarded with flashes of crimson soaring by when I look up after
hearing a distinctive chirp.
There’s been a lot of rain this spring, hence a lot of
complaining. But I love the freshness that the rain brings. The delicate smell
of peonies, lilacs, and mock orange blossoms carries freely on the clean air. Soft
sounds of wind chimes, nesting birds, and leaves dancing in the wind soothe and
calm. Peace is in the air.
~ May the magic that
is always present invigorate and enliven you. With warm thoughts for your
health and happiness, Holly x ~
My Father
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| 1974 |
The rain is making meditative circles in the puddles. The trees are lush and the songbirds high in their branches sing contentedly. As I walk, I’m thinking about my dad and how smooth his face is after he shaves. He always smells so good—like cinnamon. I miss his rough hand holding mine tight. The last time I saw my dad face-to-face we were in the NICU with my newborn daughter. He kissed the top of Hope’s sweet head and told her he loved her. That was seven years ago. It’s been too long.
Searching through old photos, I’m surprised just how few
there are of my dad and me. Regrettably, the ones I do have are faded, at an
odd angle, or blurred. No perfect shot to capture our relationship. No words to
do this either. ~
Walk Away
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| Photo: Andrea Fitzpatrick |
My daughter was hurt yesterday. She was playing on the slide
when a friend crashed into her causing her to hop up a little and
hit her back on the side of the slide. When it comes to physical pain, Hope is
tough and doesn’t cry easily, so when she came running to me in tears I knew it
had to be a hard hit. Her little friend was not concerned in the least that she
had harmed her. Even still, Hope defended her friend declaring that it was an
accident. When the pain eased, Hope went to play again, but puzzlingly her friend
wouldn’t speak to her. It was a painful thing to witness. Hope had done nothing
wrong. She didn’t deserve this treatment. For the next fifteen minutes, I
watched Hope chase after her friend (whom she adores) tearful and trying to talk
and play, but her friend wouldn’t even look at her. She kept running off…
Hope was distressed by this and I did the only thing I
could do. With her little hands in mine, I looked directly into her blue eyes and
assured her that she had done nothing
wrong. However, to my dismay, she cried, “But I feel like I did.”
Why does it always
feel this way when someone we love hurts us? Why do we assume that we’ve done
something to deserve it? Through my daughter’s upsetting experience, I am
reminded how cruel silence can be. How essential it is to not give our power to
others by demanding their love and approval. How do we get to the place where we
are confident in ourselves and not needy of affection? It’s a lifelong learning
curve, I suppose. When we find ourselves chasing after someone, we must stop
and remember that we have no idea why people suddenly close off their hearts.
The onus is left on us to examine why we are reacting so strongly to another’s
behaviour. To see how deep our attachments have become—sometimes so deep
that we forget to honour and respect ourselves.
As I kissed the crescent-shaped bruise on my daughter’s lower
back, I remembered how important it is to know when enough’s enough and to
walk away for the day. We headed home to the comfort of bath time, books, and
peanut butter toast with butter.
Bookstore/Café Yay!
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"Tribute" by Linda Johns, acrylic on paper
|
Finding books in this manner gives me a lot of pleasure. The
fact that Hope loves reading as much as I do makes me exceedingly happy. The book I found is called Sharing a Robin’s Life. What an odd and fascinating book! It’s about a woman in Nova Scotia who has a
most unusual relationship with a robin that lives with her in her woodland home.
“Tribute” is a painting by the author, Linda Johns (it is included
as the frontispiece of the book). Enchanting work! There’s a short Life Network bio on Linda’s astonishing and eccentric life on YouTube, as well.
Oh! Hope’s treasured find was a Peanuts book. It’s a 1966 paperback edition in good condition. The
original price was 40 cents! It was marked $3.95, but I asked for a discount
and only ended up paying $2.00. Sharing a Robin’s Life was marked for $1.50, which is a steal in my opinion. Only $3.50 for two wonderful books! You can’t beat that.
Off the Map
Even though I lost interest in television years ago, I still
enjoy watching movies. I usually borrow DVDs from the library. I often have little
idea what I’m getting into and this is a hit-or-miss way of film watching.
Still, I come across some very interesting films by this open-minded way of selecting
DVDs. The film Off the Map captured
my attention immediately with its cinematography—stunning cloudscapes of New Mexico’s desert—and unusual characters that I can’t help admire.
I’m captivated by off-grid living and ways of being that are
more in tune with nature. The way the couple in the film respectfully parent
their daughter, Bo, in many ways, is what I aspire to accomplish with my own
daughter. In fact, I don’t think they ever say “No” to their daughter—ever. Bo
says and does as she pleases. She has a mind of her own that tends toward imaginative
thinking and a thoughtful/loving nature. She does do a few alarming things
though that her mother, Arlene, handles with grace and calm. In fact, I’m not
sure anyone could be as non-reactive and relaxed as Arlene is portrayed, which
leads to my favourite scene in the film...
William, the IRS agent that is sent to audit the family, has
an allergic reaction to a bee sting and finds himself at the mercy of this unconventional family. As he’s recovering, he can’t help but fall in love with the
beauty of the desert and the free-spirited
Arlene. When he declares that he’s in love with Arlene and cannot hide it, she
says, “That’s good.” There’s no ego in her response, it’s that she understands
how love happens when your heart
opens up to life. She tells William that New Mexico is a powerful place and
that he should take as much time as he needs (and remain with the family) until
he gets his bearings. When he asks if her husband will mind, she confidently
says no. Later in the film, it’s apparent that the husband is as benevolent
as Arlene is. He makes his own brotherly (fatherly?) connection with William that
is most loving and healing for everyone involved.
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