What We Do, And How We Do It, Matters...

 

The naked branches reach toward the firey sky, each evening painting a different picture, as the strokes of the mystical brushes never make the same pass twice. Although a different vision presents itself each and every night, the feelings every sunset evokes stem from the same heart. A hopeful one. 

Each sunset brings with it feelings of optimism. Sunsets put beauty at the end of each day to remind us that no matter how hard, how dark, how horribly life-changing that day might have been, it ends with something beautiful. Something that shows us that everything is temporary. Any beauty that was stripped from today, is possible tomorrow. 

Each sunrise allows us to start each day with something beautiful. We can choose to ignore it, and begin the day with every single, conceivable challenge our only focus. We can also choose to let it in. Embracing its message that each and every day can begin with hope, with beauty, with kisses of colourful light, if we just let it.

Every day presents opportunity. Big, small, private, public, life-changing, mind-changing, soul-changing. Sometimes, there are moments only discovered through a rearview mirror and the benefit of a 20/20 hindsight lens. 

These simple things can get lost in the hate-filled, fear-laced pages of racist tripe all-too-often spewed on conspiracy theorist pages that sift through the algorithms of our newsfeeds. The simple beauties become overshadowed, overtaken by the noise.

History has proven that each generation has had its own demons to deal with. Its own generational darknesses to overcome. And, at least, for the most part, it happens. We overcome. We get past. We muddle through. Or, at the very least, progress is made.

Someday, if we are very lucky, and don't screw everything up, we will live, grow and thrive where we don't actively try to kill the very planet we inhabit. Someday, if we are very lucky, and don't screw everything up, we will live, grow and thrive where very human, no matter the colour of our skin, no matter who we love, or how we see ourselves, we will be able to entertain and chase dreams bigger than our current, lopsided playing field will allow.

Someday, future generations, arguing with their own demons, will look to history, look to us, for guidance.

Our only responsibility, as I see it, is to make sure we give them something useful from which to draw. Something that will show decent, humane paths to take when it looks like there are none. Something that proves kindness and prosperity can not only coexist, but feed each other.

We, are who they will look to for precedence. Now, is when they will look to for guidance. What we do, and how we do it matters. 

When we normalize hate. When we pretend racism is a thing of the past. When we try to prohibit children from seeing themselves represented in books, movies, or tv, we leave scars. They are scars of exclusion. Trying to make it seem like entire swaths of humanity don't exist. Trying to pretend they never did. 

What we do, and how we do it matters.

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May we make today a history our children's children can look to. 

May we create a world where the safety of the many, trumps the ambitions of the few.

May we create a world where hate is denied oxygen, where vigilantes aren't confused for heroes.

May those who create victimhood out of accountability, find truth, find conscience and follow where it goes.

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Masterpieces... Who Decides?

 

Hi!

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."  A phrase attributed to Margaret Wolfe Hungerford.

What constitutes a 'masterpiece'? Who decides?

There are obvious ones, Van Gogh's Starry Night, Da Vinci's Mona Lisa, Wood's American Gothic. Then, there are the ones that become masterpieces, maybe not to the world, but to you.

If you threw a dart at a historical timeline, anywhere it may hit would have its share of darkness. The times we are living in right now are no exception. 

This pandemic has, and continues to take its toll on people. It doesn't discriminate. The ripple effects put in motion by it will be felt, likely for years, in ways that are yet to be revealed.

Will all the ripples cause negative effects? I don't think so.

I think there are a lot of lessons buried in the rubble, some of which we aren't likely to recognize for a while. 

In the meantime, let's celebrate the masterpieces that don't decorate the walls of famous museums.

A young woman forging a new path, claiming more of who she is.

A little girl snuggling her puppy.

That first real smile of a baby, the one that reaches all the way to their eyes.

The sun kissing the horizon, creating colours too beautiful to be recreated.

The northern lights dancing across the sky, endless ribbons flowing, glowing silk.

The perfect bloom of a fragrant flower.

A glistening lake, reflective glass allowing nature to show off twice its beauty. 

A couple, frozen in time, a precious wedding photo, love spilling from the print.

A teenager's grin as they embrace the freedom gained, driver's license in hand.

Masterpieces.

Create them. Find them. Appreciate them. Celebrate them.

You decide what makes the cut. 

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Until next time...

May the hardships of this time leave you untouched, those stories left untold.

May the lessons reveal themselves when needed most, allowing their wisdom to unfold.

May we, as humanity, get to a space where true and complete equality becomes the norm.

May all who seek to sew hate, sew fear, be left to bear the wrath of their own storm. 

May they bark into the void, with not one single ear left willing to listen.

May those who continue to defraud the vulnerable, end up where they belong... prison. 

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Because Of Them...

                                                           Top Photo is Google stock photo

 

Hi.

Today is November 11. In Canada, this date is set aside to honour our veterans. 

Because of them, we have the privilege of complaining. And we do. About everything.

I find it disheartening when the freedoms so many sacrificed so much for are trivialized, used as petty weapons, deliberately contorted until they are unrecognizable.

Freedom of religion - so many seem to think that this only pertains to Christianity. Pushing to put prayer back into public schools. Unless you are going to include prayers from all religions, you are excluding people. It's not just freedom for Christian religions. It's freedom for all religions. 

Freedom of speech- this does not include dangerous, inflammatory speech. This doesn't include uttering threats. This doesn't include putting people in danger with false information.

Freedom to be equal- this means everyone has the same rights. EVERYONE. Gay, straight, trans, queer, black, brown, white, and any combination thereof. Adults have the right to be married. End of story. Everyone has a right to be safe. Period. 

Our Canadian war heroes come from a multitude of backgrounds, ethnicities, races, religions, and gender identities. A true representation of our great country. 

They didn't, and don't sacrifice themselves for the rights of only a few. They fight for all of us.

Not only Christians.

Not only English speaking.

Not only straight.

Not only white.

Everyone. All of us.

Please don't confuse oppression with inconvenience.

Please do not assume your freedoms are more important than the freedoms of others. 

Freedoms partner heavily with responsibility. We have to protect our most vulnerable. If we don't, what does that say about us?

If our Veterans are willing to sacrifice their lives to protect us, at the very least, can we not sacrifice the inconvenience of having to wear masks and getting vaccinated? 

Can we just stop with the homophobia, genderphobia, xenophobia, and tantrums when consequences come knocking for choices made?

If you don't understand religions or cultures outside of your own, either take the time to learn about them or shut up about them. You choose. 

If seeing LGBTQ people out in public, being people, bothers you, stay home.

If others' religious celebrations threaten you, you aren't nearly as strong as you profess to be. 

If the phrase 'happy holidays' gets you riled up... it just makes no sense, I'm sorry, but it doesn't. 

If you don't want to wear a mask... stay home.

If you don't want to get vaccinated... stay home.

It's simple. 

Protect our vulnerable. Live your life. 

Because of them, we have the freedom to complain. And we do. About everything. 

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Until next time...

May we live up to your sacrifice, deserve it, never taking it for granted, forever grateful we should be.

May we come to fully understand the responsibility that partners freedom, as freedom is never free.

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Gotta Love A Grassy Knoll...

 

Hi!

Okay, so this story came to my attention, this week.

When I first heard it, I thought, for sure, it had to be a prank of some kind. 

I mean, actual, real people can't honestly, really, believe this, right? Right?!

Sooooooooo.....

The premise is this, as far as I can gather...

Hundreds of people gathered at Dealey Plaza in Dallas, some on the infamous grassy knoll, not to honour the anniversary of the assassination of JFK. Nope, not that.

They gathered, stood, sat, and generally just milled about. At some point, someone decided they needed a mantra. With all of the great ones out there, you know, like 'no justice, no peace,' 'make love, not war,' 'give peace a chance,' and countless others, they chose this...

"Did we land on the moon?" with the response of "No". 

Yup, with every combination of words known to man at their disposal, every one, this is what they went with.

Okay, so this gives you an idea that this particular group of people may have what you might surmise as a unique take on how the world works, what logic looks and sounds like, and the concept of reality.

Apparently, they were there because, well, because JFK Junior was supposed to somehow show up despite the fact that he died 22 years ago.

Yup, the chain of logic, or lack thereof supposedly goes like this.

JFK Junior faked his death, and has been in hiding for the past 22 years... without anyone finding out or leaking the story. Twenty-two years. Not a single sighting. Nobody giving up the story. Not. One. Person.

And then... they thought he was going to announce that he was re-instating the Grand Cheeto as President of the United States, and he...JFK Junior, would become vice-president. Because... that's exactly how that works.

And then... he, JFK Junior, would declare himself President, he would then make Michael Flynn his vice-president and then promote Trump to King. Just like the authors of the American constitution surely envisioned.

Any rational person can see the flaws, right? It's not just me?

Even if you can put aside the fact that JFK Junior was a Democrat as assuredly as he was a Kennedy, and the unlikelihood that he and the likes of Donny boy even knew each other except by name, he, Junior, is not alive anymore. Not even a little. 

When, shockingly, JFK Junior did not appear and make all these fantastical announcements, a buzz immediately began to circulate. Now, he would emerge at the Rolling Stones concert that was soon going to be taking place. That Keith Richards was really JFK Junior. This is somehow how he had managed to keep his 'fake' death a secret for all these years. 

Sooooo... Keith Richards didn't exist prior to Junior's death? Interesting...

On its face, this reads like a fever dream of a writer drenched in childhood trauma with a belly full of magic mushrooms and rancid moonshine.

On its face.

Beneath the surface, however, it's just sad.

These poor people are being fleeced of their hard-earned money. They buy all the merchandise. They give their credit cards a workout, entering the numbers on sites promising them that they are doing their patriotic duty 'saving' the country. They are marks. They buy all the lies that lead them to these crazy places. 

They never lost the childlike wonder of buying the sea monkeys, and magic rings touted on the back cover of comic books. They still entertain the belief that things will look and perform exactly as advertised on TV.  They allow themselves to be manipulated with scary stories about villains that come from far-off lands, that look and sound differently. They are pushed to fear and hate everything they don't understand. They expect Buzz Lightyear to actually fly.

Like Buzz Lightyear, Trump does not fly. Unlike Buzz Lightyear he doesn't fall with style, he just falls... 

For example... they have been coached to fear, and therefore hate the vaccines for Covid, Critical Race Theory, Social Programs, and countless other things.

When asked to explain why, there are no real answers. Because there can't be. They don't exist. 

In the meantime, I'm planning a dinner party.

Elvis, Robin Williams, and Maya Angelou are coming. They are going to announce that they are going to declare me as Prime Minister. We are going to write the biopic. Elvis will do the soundtrack, Maya will help write it, and Robin will play me in the movie, Mrs. Doubtfire style. Boom. 

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Until next time...

May the veil be lifted before it's too late.

May understanding replace the fear and hate.

May we get to a place of integrity, where doing the right thing matters.

May we get there before too many people's lives are left in shatters.

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