Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Where Lilacs Grow




The above verse, sent to me by a friend, put me in mind of an experience I had several years ago. At the time, I was a staff member of a large mental health agency and one of my jobs was to oversee the production of promotional materials.

This particular morning, I had an appointment with a writer who I hadn't met previously but I knew her by her reputation as a poet. She had been hired to write a series of volunteer handbooks.

Close to the agency there was a large grove of lilac bushes, blossoming and beautifully fragrant and, though I really didn't have the time (my meeting was set for nine o'clock sharp and it was almost nine o'clock then), I couldn't resist stopping to pick some lilacs for my office.



As I walked through the main doors of the agency, I was told that the writer had been shown into my office and was waiting for me there. I felt terrible walking in late to a meeting with a bouquet of hastily picked lilacs, but the writer seemed oblivious to the time and was writing intently in a small black book.

Before I could introduce myself, she looked up from her writing and said;

"Oh my goodness, it's you!"

Never having set eyes on the women, I had no idea where she knew me from so I asked:

"Have we met before?"

"No", she smiled, "But I was just writing a poem about you."

She gestured to the journal she had been writing in and continued:

"On my way to meet you this morning, I saw a bunch of lilac trees. I looked closer and I could see a woman with long brown hair in among the trees. With a briefcase in one hand, the woman was standing on her tip-toes picking lilacs and I thought to myself this most beautiful scene must be made into a poem . When I got to your office, I was happy to have a few minutes alone to begin writing the poem and then suddenly here you are with the lilacs!"

She got up from her chair and hugged me and that was by far, the strangest way I've ever made someone's acquaintance.


Monday, August 17, 2009

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Poor Betty




It's hard to believe Archie has finally chosen between Betty & Veronica and that, after 70 years, the Riverdale gang is going to, allegedly, graduate from high school.

Fans are reacting to these upcoming changes with shock, confusion, anger, and apathy.

The upcoming issue is on sale August 19th in comic shops, September 1st in newsstands.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Speaking of Rabbits...


Herman wins the cute contest by virtue of sheer volume.

Shown here with his owner, Hans Wagner, Herman the Giant Rabbit weighs 22 lbs and measures 3 feet.

There is nothing so sweet as a bunny
A dear, little, sweet, little bunny
He can hop on his toes
He can wiggle his nose
And his powder puff tail is quite funny.

D. Baruch

Friday, August 7, 2009

Gratitude

For the past 20 years, I've followed the practice of keeping a gratitude journal. Each day, I make a note of of 3-5 things from that day which have caused me to feel grateful. In this way I've trained my eyes (and my heart) to look for those oft-hidden gems that occur throughout the day and, as a result, my perspective has become sharper and more in tune with life's inherent goodness.

Beyond this, I've not made a study of gratitude though, of course, I'm aware of the increased social interest in the topic, as a generation of seekers work to foster an 'attitude of gratitude' in themselves and their children.

A person of interest to me is Brother David Steindl-Rast O.S.B. (pictured above). Presently living a monastic life in a Benedictine community in New York, I believe a most interesting accomplishments of Brother David was his Vatican-approved participation in a Buddhist-Christian dialogue. He was given the 1975 Martin Buber Award for his achievements in building bridges between religious traditions.

I recently came across an essay by Brother David entitled Are You Thankful or Are You Grateful? Brother David distinguishes between the two states of mind in this way:

"Remember a night when you stood outdoors looking up at the stars, countless in the high, silent dome of the sky, and saw them as if for the first time. What happened? Eugene O'Neill puts it this way: "For a moment I lost myself – actually lost my life. I was set free! I dissolved in the...high dim-starred sky! I belonged, without past or future, within peace and unity and a wild joy, within something greater than my own life...to Life itself! To God, if you want to put it that way." [You may have good reasons for not putting it that way, for not using the G-word, but in any case you have caught a glimpse of "something greater" than your limited self.]"For a second you see – and seeing the secret, are the secret. For a second there is meaning!"

In the second that follows, you may hear your heart calling out, "Thank you, thank you!" – "to God, if you want to put it that way," or to no one in particular. But let us steady our focus on the first second, the second of gratefulness before thankfulness. Why do I call that wild joy of belonging "gratefulness"? Because it is our full appreciation of something altogether unearned, utterly gratuitous -- life, existence, ultimate belonging – and this is the literal meaning of grate-full-ness. In a moment of gratefulness, you do not discriminate. You fully accept the whole of this given universe, as you are fully one with the whole.

In the very next moment, when the fullness of gratitude overflows into thanksgiving, the oneness you were experiencing is breaking up. Now you are beginning to think in terms of giver, gift, and receiver. Gratefulness turns into thankfulness. This is a different fullness. A moment ago you were fully aware; now you are thoughtful. Gratefulness is full awareness; thankfulness is thoughtfulness."

Prior to reading this article, I hadn't considered a distinction between gratitude and thankfulness but Brother David's word's prompted me to take a closer look at my own experience of gratitude.

A personal experience that causes me an astonishing level of gratitude is driving my battery-powered wheelchair/scooter outside on a beautiful sunny day. I acquired the scooter at the beginning of the summer and so driving it is still very much a novelty. After ten years of a experiencing a declining inability to walk and having reached the point of being able to walk less than half a block with the assistance of a walker, the sheer pleasure of being able to move through space without pain or discomfort is a joy unmatched.

First of all, I watched my emotional reaction to the experience of scooting. I witnessed an initial joy and extreme gratitude, followed quickly by an inner-dialogue of thankfulness (thank-you God and Goddess, thank-you Jesus, Mary, Joseph, thank-you guardian angel, thank-you universe, thank you Dave and Winston for helping me find such a good bargain, thank-you higher power, thank-you thank-you).

Then, after establishing my typical "set-response" to the experience, I set about, on subsequent occasions, to prolong my sense of gratitude before allowing my feelings to spill over into thankfulness. Through a series of experiments, I discovered that gratitude and thankfulness are indeed distinct states of mind, though they mix well together to form a prayer or a song.

I feel richer for having identified that aspect of my inner-landscape. Though I'm not a completely self-indulgent person, I do enjoy making my aquaintance.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

A Favourite Haiku, Rabbit



Translated from Japanese, this Haiku is one of my favourites. It puts me in mind of Harriet, my rabbit friend and companion as well those special bunnies that lived before her and shared their lives with me.

There is much written about the shamanic belief of power animals; animal spirits that dwell within an individual. Power animals are said to provide guidance and personal strength by lending the attributes for which they are known to the individual.

My relationship with rabbit goes back to early childhood when I was fortunate to live next door to an expanse of land known to the neighbourhood children as 'the bush'. On this particular occasion, I was about five years old and sitting unattended beside a creek (the word 'creek' is an exaggeration, nonetheless it was indeed a small flow of water) when I was struck with the feeling of being watched.

I turned my head to look over my shoulder and I saw the most beautiful white rabbit starring back at me. We held each others attention for a long moment before this amazing creature turned and hopped away into a more densely treed area. My first experience of rabbit occurred alongside my first experience of joy. The memory was etched in my mind with such intensity that rabbit became my power animal long before the concept of power animals came to light in my world.

Given that hares are not typically considered powerful animals, one may think it unhelpful for an individual to carry this particular energy. A typical, unschooled translation of rabbit energy is 'fearful, nervous and/or easily frightened.' Nothing could be further from the truth. Although exhibiting a certain cautious awareness, rabbit/hares wisdom provides:


Living by one’s own wits
Receiving hidden teachings and intuitive messages
Quick-thinking
Paradox and contradiction
Guile
Humility
Moving through fear
Strengthening intuition


Harriet (pictured above) is a Holland lop-eared rabbit. She's lived with us for the past three years, after her predecessor, Mennohav, died of pneumonia. Harriet is house trained and very clean. She eats protein pellets, timothy hay and all our vegetable scraps. She loves to cuddle and hates getting her nails cut almost as much as I hate cutting them.

Monday, August 3, 2009

A Three Day Cruise

Dave and I just returned home from a three-day holiday in Stratford, Ontario. We stayed in our favourite place, The Stone Maiden Inn and attended two stage productions: Macbeth and A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.


Macbeth was wonderful, a frightening rendition. Surprisingly, it was set in modern-day Africa. Although faithful to the script, naming Scotland as the central focus, many cast members, including Lady Macbeth, were dressed brilliantly in full African attire. Tribal music added to the African allure and provided a sense of foreboding throughout. The juxtaposition of setting and set made for an interesting play.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum was an hilarious delight from front to finish. Dave and I laughed out loud, something we seldom do no matter how clever the comedy.

We had a wonderful time, ate some delicious food, went on a river boat tour and browsed the shops and craft stores.

We're fortunate to live close to Stratford, to be able to make an annual event of going to a couple of plays and staying in a quaint Victorian Inn.