The Discarded...

 Hi!

So what are you doing this weekend?

Well, where I call home, most of us will be sticking as close to our houses as possible. The awesome, mild weather we were enjoying is obviously over with temps dipping to our usual dangerous, hurts-to-breathe, stay outside longer than a few minutes, and lose appendages, type crap. 

The crazy thing is the -41 doesn't take into consideration the wind. With the wind it's much more likely to feel like -50 or worse... yay.

So here we sit. Cold, with about 8 hours separating daybreak from darkness.

Your frozen tentacles threaten to grip my spirit, your darkness wants to strip away my joy.

You want to hold me captive within my four walls, making each breath a penance for some imaginary wrong. The treacherous ice and snow provide a greedy exchange with unsteady steps, bruises for the lucky, casts for those not so. 

You strip away our blinders as it is impossible not to think of those without the luxury of four walls. Those who weather the dark and the bitter cold with little more than things others have deemed not important enough to keep. We donate only what we are willing to discard. I don't know how those who are without can't feel the same. Discarded. 

We live in warm places, with comfortable beds and full bellies. We have support when we have times of struggle. We have people to love us through our diagnoses, our addictions, the very things that would put us exactly where they are if those supports were knocked from beneath our feet. 

There has to be a better way.

While some obsess about cutting calories, others are digging food out of dumpsters. While some rattle around in mansions where staff represents the majority of the occupants, others bear the cold, covered in nothing but ill-fitting, worn-out discards.

What if the mega-churches with the tv preachers that like to scream otherisms at the top of their lungs, built mega-shelters instead. What if they sold their private jets and fed the hungry. What if the Vatican stopped spouting nonsense about putting an end to surrogacy, and put their energy and money into the problem of homelessness and addiction that they had a heavy hand in creating through the horror that was their residential schools. What if the super-rich invested in low-income housing instead of ego-driven trips to space. 

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As I sit in my cozy home, a warm blanket tucked around my feet, tapping away at the keys of this laptop, I am painfully aware of my privilege. 

I do what I can. But, at times, it seems pointless.

I guess I just can't wrap my head around having the means to make a real difference, but simply refusing to do so.  

To the Jeff Bezoses, Bill Gateses, Oprahs, and Mark Zuckerbergs of the world. You could fix this if you wanted to. All you'd have to do is settle for a smaller boat, maybe one less mansion, get rid of a car or two. You wouldn't even feel it. Not really. 

In the meantime, local governments need to do better to lift the cold, the hungry, the addicted, those who struggle with mental health, the discarded. They need to be the support, provide the support that is obviously missing. In a country as rich as ours, none of our citizens should be struggling to keep warm. 

But for circumstance, it would be me, it would be you, it would be our kids, it would be any of us. 

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May we do better. 

It Was Only A Matter Of Time...

 

Hi!

Well, up to this point, this winter, we have been left basically snowless. It's not a very popular opinion where I hang my hat, but I was okay with the snowlessness. In fact, I would relish the opportunity to have a heartfelt yearning for it. 

It was only a matter of time. Although climate change is really beginning to impact our weather patterns, we have yet to reach the point of a completely snowless winter in Saskatchewan. If/when that happens, I just hope it's gradual enough to allow our farmers to adapt.

There are more and more people on the planet to feed, fewer acres to work with, and weather patterns are becoming more extreme and more unpredictable. I'm absolutely no expert, by the furthest stretch of the imagination, but I can't help but wonder what will be growing in the fields that surround me twenty years from now. Will it still be canola? Flax? Wheat? Or will it have to be something totally different to accommodate the new and different growing season, the new rainfall patterns, the different temperatures? 

Adapting will be essential. Time will tell how that will all play out. 

In the meantime, we do what we can to slow the process down, as best we can. Some of the bigger initiatives seem pointless, even a bit silly. Like banning plastic shopping bags but not putting any restrictions on manufacturers about the amount of plastic used in packaging... for everything. Electric cars are fantastic in theory, but they don't work great in -30C, charging takes a long time, and there are other glitches that don't make them completely practical, at least where I live. 

The powers that be, I think, are moving in the right direction, they have the recipe, they know what they want the end product to be, but it seems the proportions and methods are still off a bit. If they want something awesome when all is said and done, they need to tweek the recipe, not give up, just... adjust. 

Each of us can do little things. Only we know if we are really doing all we could be doing. It's a very individual, personal thing. But we know, even if we pretend we don't. 

We, as the totality of humanity, are living in a time of historical significance. We are recovering from a global pandemic, and everything that entails. We are still only discovering the ripples that we couldn't predict would, could, and are still being felt. Right-wing, anti-democracy forces are trying to circumvent and destroy inclusive ideology and progression. Their only agenda seems to be to spread as much hate and mistrust as they can, making life as hard as possible for those whom they consider "different."A lack of critical thinking is plaguing our citizens. 

We, as the totality of humanity, are living in a time of historical significance. We can be spectators, choose apathy, and watch the dystopia that is depicted in almost every futuristic movie come to fruition, or we can stand up and do something about it.

I know that sounds daunting, but it doesn't have to be. It boils down to a very simple philosophy. 

Be very aware that the skin you live in and the circumstances into which you are born requires neither talent nor intelligence, it's happenstance. So any feeling of superiority is, on its face, ridiculous. Act accordingly. Live accordingly. Visceral kindness can solve everything. 

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May we find it within ourselves to do all we need to do to give future generations the amazing lives we've always promised. 

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2024... A Hopeful Year Of Healing...

                                                                     (Not sure who to credit)
 

Hi!

As 2023 becomes a memory, it's only natural to wonder what 2024 will bring. 

I consider myself a perpetually hopeful, cautiously optimistic, realist. 

What does that mean? 

Well, to me, it means that I am more than absolutely hopeful that 2024 is going to be a healing year. A year for reconnection, a year for prickly beds constructed by self-serving/self-destructive people to be filled, and understanding it will take most of the year to see it all come to fruition. 

It also means that I am cautiously optimistic that once the shit has all run downhill, the manure pile will be spread fairly amongst all who deserve a taste. 

The realist in me knows that none of it will go without a hurdle or two or twelve, getting in the way.

I'm hopeful that in 2024, the places in the world where peace feels like a fantasy, experience such an overabundance of tranquility, that it becomes so plentiful it tickles being taken for granted. 

I'm cautiously optimistic that at some point, people with a bit more foresight than a toddler will develop some modicum of understanding that the devastation driven by egos stoked by greed always far outweighs the imaginary benefits of these conflicts. 

Realistically, I know that ego and greed aren't going anywhere. Along with the power that usually goes with it, you have the oppression trifecta that fuels the neverending "I'm better than you," Olympics. 

I'm hopeful that, as humans, we get better at acceptance. Not tolerance. Acceptance. I'm hopeful that those who struggle with understanding that every human deserves the same rights they do, become more open, more compassionate, more empathetic, more willing to change their perceptions. 

I'm cautiously optimistic that this will happen. The newer generations have had fewer teachers of poisonous content, so that, in and of itself breeds more open-mindedness. The progress is slow, and not without backslides, but it is progress. 

Realistically, I don't know if I will live to see the day when people will stop marginalizing others. Maybe my grandbabies will. Hell, I hope they are a big part of making it happen. 

So, as we step into the new year, let's all just try to be better. 

When you know better, you are, as a decent human, obligated to do better.

Using willful ignorance as an excuse for bigotry and prejudice is ridiculous. 

Holding on to antiquated ignorance as an excuse not to change or grow is sad. It shrouds you in a life of black and white.

Besides, you're missing out on all the joy, all the brilliance, all the flavour that comes with embracing the rainbow. 

So here's to 2024! A healing year, full of hope, accountability, peace, and acceptance.

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May you bring in the new year with a glass of something bubbly and a kiss.

May you embrace each new day with gusto, with hope, with joy, you deserve all of this.

May the new year be kind to you, allowing you to heal from any hardships, any loss.

May you remind yourself daily, that you are the star of your own movie, not the side-kick, the boss.

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It's The Little Things...

 

                                           

Hi!

Well, we are smack in the middle of the holiday season! Depending on what and how you celebrate, you either are winding down, just getting started, or somewhere in between!

So, here's to whatever stage of whichever holidays you celebrate!

With all of the hoopla, all of the advertising dollars spent to compete for however much you are willing to part with, with all of the photos and videos making their rounds on social media showing nothing short of showstopping lights and decor, it seems to me that the real memories have very little to do with any of those things. 

It's the little things.

A favorite homemade treat, the grand (insert game name here) tournament(s), the inside jokes and the giggles they get every single time, the simple joy of being together. Those are the lasting things that stick to the memory core.

New faces, newly-missing faces, even faces that have been gone a while, all have seats at the table. There is room for all of them. It's incredible to have the opportunity to welcome new people into your circle, some coming through romance or friendship, others, born into it.  Some of what we miss most of those no longer here have a way of showing up in the eyes, laughter, or maybe an eyebrow raise of those born into it. Those sweet reminders can bring to the surface a fresh hit of grief, but it passes, leaving behind the memories the precious reminders carry. 

I see pieces of my Dad and my sisters in my own kids, grandkids, my nieces and nephews, and their children as well. The gene pool is deep and wide and full of sarcastic wit, warmth, and quirks. They may be gone, but the ripples of who they were remain. 

So, if you are struggling to keep up with the Jones's, if you weren't able to buy all the things, if your home isn't "perfect," it simply doesn't matter. If you fill it with laughter, love, and precious memories, you've won. 

Memories are not built from "things." Things become an anecdote, a trigger that sparks a memory. The best road trips are never about the car. 

Well folks, tomorrow I have the privilege of having all of those I hold closest to my heart under my roof. It's a single day, but I'll gladly take it. There will be way too much food, laughter, of which there can never be too much, and enough joy to fill me for a good long while.

So, with a few more little things to look after, I wish you everything fabulous. 

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May wonderous eyes remind you of what is most precious. 

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Finding The Funny...

 Hi!

You know sometimes, and I do mean sometimes, in life, we get to sit pretty. We feel solid with where and who we are. Sometimes, things go smoothly, kids are good, job is good, ducks are standing at attention, perfectly in a row. 

Sadly, I don't know of many people, me included, who feel that way the majority of the time. 

Most of the time, a lot of us feel like we are hanging on by our fingernails. 

Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. It's probably more like about a third of the time we feel solid, a third, hanging by our fingernails, and the final third somewhere in between. Something that remains imperative regardless of which third you're passing through, is a sense of humour. 

So, for those who are in the sitting pretty third... Congratulations on winning at life, even if it's not permanent. Soak up the easy. Bask in the glow of things going well. Glide along this smooth stretch unfettered. Dance through the melodic lilt of this "Ducks in a Row" symphony. Grab that brass ring, and hold on tight, either because, or in spite of the fact, that it has an illegible expiration date. Treasure the easy times, laughing because it's impossible not to. 

For those currently in the midst of a horrible fingernail hanging... just remember, tomorrow is another day, and if that turns out to be a shitty day too, there's the next day, and the next. Here is where I could throw a bunch of cliches at you. You know, it's always darkest before the dawn... yadda, yadda, yadda. I mean, cliches become cliches because they hold some truth, but when you are truly in the middle of a category 5 shitstorm, those heartfelt sayings can feel like the empty promises of the recently mugged Nigerian prince you met online and is in devastating need of some cash... quick! It's in these kind of times that your sense of humour can actually save you. Humour can be mined from almost any situation. It might be dark, it might be considered highly inappropriate, it might be completely shocking, but someone who is in the same storm, or one just like it, will get it. They will laugh as others clutch their pearls, and as you lock eyes, you'll know that you both will make it back to the sunlight. 

Last, but not least, for those bumping along in the middle. The ones with both good and bad coming at you in equal measure... you either have the best or worst of both worlds, depending on how you look at it. For neither the brass ring grabber nor the fingernail hanger are thee. You are existing in a world resembling a game of full-contact whack-a-mole. It's exciting, it's rewarding, it's pretty easy, until the giant gopher comes out from behind the curtain with a mallet of his own. Optimism dipped in caution is your friend. Find the funny in the light, and mine it from the shadows. 

So, here's to laughing until our stomachs hurt, locking eyes with those who share our penchant for plot twists, and finding the funny, no matter how deeply it may be buried. 

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May we all find the giggle, the laugh, the chortle, the guffaw, the titter, the snort. 

May we mine them if they're buried, for that's when they are needed the most.

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One Person's Complaint Is Another Person's Fantasy...

 

Hi!

There's something to be said for sitting in the glowing grip of cozy, watching comfort tv from your childhood. It's not fancy, it requires nothing more than a few old Christmas lights, a tv, some slippers and a favourite blanket. 

It's peaceful. It's quiet. And, it gives you a moment to think about just how lucky you are. How many of us stress about getting the 'right' gifts for people? Anxious about making sure all the favourite treats are plentiful and baked just so, for family and friends when they come to visit? How many of us are fretting about what to wear to all the different, glittery functions we get to attend? 

The truth is, we probably do it way too much. Of course, we want our celebrations to be magical, to be fun, to be sweet. We want to create a space where precious memories can be indelibly etched on the hearts of those we care for most. And, we should!

We have finite trips around the sun, limited holidays to make the most of, so it stands to reason that we care as much as we do. This will be my 58th Christmas on this earth. If I'm very lucky, maybe I'll get to embrace about 30 more. I refuse to waste any of them. 

Though, for way too many, what gift to give isn't a problem, but a fantasy. There are way too many without four walls, a roof, heat, and the security of a next meal. They don't have the capacity, nor the privilege of worrying about which creature comfort to complain about. 

I'm not saying we need to sacrifice our celebrations out of guilt, but maybe, just maybe, we could go through a closet or two and donate that winter coat we no longer wear, or those boots, or that scarf, or those blankets that no longer live on the "favourites" pile. 

Too many of us complain about what others can only wish for.

 If you have some to spare, please give what you can. 

If you, like me, are one of the lucky ones, don't waste it. Play the board games, drink the hot chocolate, cuddle up and watch the sappy movies, eat the treats, sing the songs, laugh until it hurts. 

We are here for but a whisper in time, make the most of all of it. 

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May those who can only dream of a warm, safe place to lay their heads be granted what should be given as a basic human right. 

May those with their hands on our purse strings do what's right, what's humane, what's decent, instead of shoving those in most need simply out of sight. 

May we find a way, as others have done, to house and feed our most at risk, our most vulnerable.

May we find a way, as we do for other things, like loopholes for dollar-signed execs, those who should be culpable.

May we find room in our revelry for more than thoughts and our prayers.

May we take a moment to share a bit of our abundance, placing dreams where there once were nightmares. 

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Where The Real Magic Lives...

 

Hi!

So, the month of December is saturated in occasions and holidays of all kinds, touching a plethora of cultures and religions. 

Everyone prepares in different ways, celebrating a multitude of traditions. For some, the traditions lie in not having traditions at all, but doing something unique every time, some follow rituals that have been passed down for generations, some, fall somewhere in between. 

We tend to, I guess, fall in the in between. Some things happen the same way, year after year, while other things evolve, never repeating twice. 

However, and whatever you choose to prep for and celebrate, I hope it's everything you wish it to be.

Some will invest hundreds if not thousands of dollars in decorations, gifts and food while others will be doing mathematical gymnastics trying to create magic from pennies. 

The real magic lives beyond the dollar signs.

It's reflected in the eyes of the littles as you drive through the neighbourhoods with the "best" lights. It hangs out in the kind deeds that tend to multiply this time of year. The real magic is found in the shy little one discovering their most awesome voice and/or dance moves during their holiday concert matinee performance. We feel it every time we are able to add something a little extra to the food bank donation bin. 

The real magic is in the moments of laughter during board games, the inside jokes shared over meals, the specifically special treats that only happen at this time of year. The real magic is in sharing what we have, no matter how much or how little. It's in reaching out to those who may be struggling, and lifting them up in whatever way we can. 

It can be as simple as being patient in the checkout line, as smiling and being cordial regardless of the chaos. As simple as holding a door, buying someone a coffee, donating old winter gear to the unhoused. As simple as simply connecting. 

I think, one side-effect of the pandemic has been a lingering disconnect. We became little more than morbity statistics to each other for a while, and we are struggling a bit to get beyond that. I suppose it's normal, whatever that is. But I think that the effects of globally going through what we did will have a fingerprint on humanity for a while yet. 

There are still some who refuse to accept the reality of what happened and continues to happen. They choose to live in a cocoon of misinformation and conspiracies. Unfortunately, there is little or nothing that we can do about that. If the actual events that took place in front of the eyes of the world aren't proof enough, than nothing we can say will be. 

So let's do our best to reconnect, to be kind, to reintroduce ourselves to what humanity can be instead of what we have allowed it to become. 

We have never been perfect, but we have been better than what we are. Let's do our best to be better again. 

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May the rest of this year make your every wish come true.

May you be bathed in joy and laughter, feeling loved through and through.

May you spread any light you can muster to everyone around.

May you find magic in every sight and every sound.

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