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Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Sonnet 18 and those lazy days of summer....

As I sit here on this cold, late October day and listen to my furnace pumping the house full of artificially hot air, I am feeling nostalgic for my favourite time of year.

It wasn’t always my favourite.  For many years I would have told you that spring was what I longed for.  And then as I got older, autumn caught my fancy.  But since I hit my forties a few years ago I find that the middle two weeks of August are where I find my bliss.

I’m not a fan of the humid heat of July.  It’s sticky.  It’s too hot to go anywhere.  I can’t sleep.  And everywhere is busy with summer fun seekers and kids out of school.  Everything is growing and spreading.  My garden is usually out of control with weeds and every plant is vying for its place in the sun, soaking up rain and nutrients, frenetically pouring energy into procreating, creating its fruit.

But by that second week of August, most summer activities are slowing down and finishing up.  The humidity usually breaks then, too.  The sun is warm, even hot.  But not overpowering.  It’s the kind of heat that sinks pleasantly into your skin, leaving freckles and a sun kissed glow behind. 

The wind is warm.  It caresses your hair and plays with your senses, bringing the smell of BBQ and sun warmed gardens.  Unlike the still, heavy air of July, August breezes hint of paradise, of a place where all things find their place and where peace and tranquility abound.

Even the plants and trees seem to settle into a graceful middle age.  Everything is full and lush and green.  Fruits are beginning to ripen.  The sweet corn is ready for its bath of butter and salt.  Rich and colour flowers hang from the Rose Tree of Sharon in abundance. 

But nothing has begun to turn.  No leaf is yet yellow.  Now flower has yet fallen from grace.  The frenetic activity of the spring and early summer has reached its fruition.  Every living thing has achieved its purpose.  Striving has ceased and nature is sitting back and enjoying its own perfection and completion. 

There is a bitter sweetness to this time for me.  It only lasts two weeks each year, sometimes less.  And then we begin the descent into fall.  Come September 1st it will be time to turn thoughts to school and  the return to routine.  Soon, we will be too busy to sit in the sun and watch the world go by, enjoying the beauty and grace of the trees high above us, communing with God as he whispers to them, gently moving their braches to the rhythm of his voice.  Soon, the breeze will carry on it a smell of frost, even on the warmest of autumn days.  Soon the leaves will begin their rainbow display, one last splash of glory before the cold of winter. 

Even as I sit by the wading pool, watching my kids enjoy one more day of splashing and fun, I know these days are numbered, flowing by too swiftly.  And I am moved to savour them all the more, to hold on to this feeling of completeness, but not too tightly. 

These days are to be enjoyed without regret, to be held lightly in the soul, stored away for remembrance on days like today, days of cold sunshine and bitter winds.  And then I can take them out and relive them, closing my eyes to feel again the warm sunshine on my cheek, the soft breeze in my hair.  Inhaling once more the musky scent of mown grass and hearing the squeals and giggles of my children enjoying these halcyon days.

 

SONNET 18

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee. 


-William Shakespeare

Friday, October 18, 2013

Simple joys and The Duck Song...



We ask our children to grow up so fast.  Too fast.  We forget that they are children.  Our babies, full of innocence that, once lost, can never be recaptured.  Why do we rush them so headlong into adulthood?  Is it really all that great? 

I hear parents (myself included) celebrating growth and maturity and independence, but we rarely pause to just enjoy the fact that our kids are, well, kids.

I volunteer at our local school and at first break I stayed in with the 4/5 class while they ate.  I decided to put on a Youtube clip for them and someone asked for "the Duck Song".  I was surprised as this is a song my kindergarten child likes.  I was sure that the other kids would boo it off the screen.  Afterall, these are 'big kids'.  These are the kids who are swaggering around the yard, who tell me with great pride about how they can do so much themselves, who are insistent that they don't need help. 

I was sitting at the teacher’s desk, facing the computer.  After a few moments I noticed that there was silence in the room (well, as near as you get with 20 nine and ten year olds).  When I glanced back over my shoulder, I discovered that most of the class had moved up to sit cross legged on the floor behind me.  And then, as the chorus kicked in, they began singing along!  All them knew the words.  No one hesitated to lift their voices in song.

I turned from the screen to watch their faces.  I had never seen some of these kids smile before.  Grins were going ear to ear.  There were giggles.  There was laughter.  Their faces were quite literally shining with joy.

And I felt like I was the outsider, that I was the one who was missing out.  Somewhere, as we grow up, we lose the ability to enjoy a cartoon duck going to a lemonade stand.  Somewhere, we get jaded, we get cynical, we get mature.   And for reasons I often fail to comprehend, we want our kids to join us in our adulthood as quickly as we can drag them there.

Try as I might, I could not find the humour in the song that moved these kidsto  laughs.  I became very nostalgic for my own childhood.  I missed those days where a funny song, good friends, and time to laugh was all that I needed to be happy.

And I realized that this is something we need to protect, this innocence, this ability to open our minds and hearts to simple things.  These 'big kids', well on their way to growing up, facing the teenage years just around the bend, were, for a moment at least, just children again.  And I found my own joy in having the privilege to have been there with them in this moment of paradise found again.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Cheer up! Not.

Cheer up.  I have to admit that I find that to be one of the most annoying phrases of the English language.  We say it to someone who is feeling sad, depressed, out sorts.  I think most of us mean well when we say it, but what we're really saying to someone is, "Your feelings are wrong, inappropriate, unfounded."  The implication is, you shouldn't be sad, you have no reason to be down in the dumps.  Cheer up!

Sometimes, it's okay to feel down. Sadness is a healthy emotion, too, and if you're feeling it, that's okay. We are too quick to rush past emotions we don't like. We are too quick to tell others how to feel, to tell ourselves how to feel. 

We have been given the full spectrum of emotion for a reason.  We are fearfully and wonderfully made and we can't come close to understanding the wonder that is the human psyche. You are fine just as you are and how you are feeling...you don't need to change...ride it out and let it be. Tomorrow is another day (quoting Ms. O'Hara).

I've been a down day. Lots of anxiety and sadness. After almost 40 years of this struggle, I've given up trying to explain it or change. 


I walk through these days reminding myself that I am worthy, that I am loved and lovable, that the world is still the beautiful and wonderful place I have always known it to be. And I hold to my faith that feelings are fleeting and fickle things that can and will change, that life is basically good, and that I am strong enough to walk through a little darkness now and then and come out the other side feeling stronger. 

The Book of Ecclesiastes in one I often go to when life feels chaotic.  It gives me perspective.  Today I am drawn to chapter 3:  To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:  A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.


It's okay to be sad.  Let's give each other permission NOT to cheer up!  Be kind to yourself and it will all work for good in the end!  For a season, we can weep.  And tomorrow, we will dance.



Thursday, September 19, 2013

The Lord God Made them All...even the hornets.



I have an unreasoning fear of hornets.  Don’t ask me why.  I couldn’t tell you.  I’m not afraid of being stung.  Honey bees and bumblebees I find adorable.  But hornets, well, they bring on some very girly screaming and shuddering.  I have been known to abandon my young children in their strollers on the playground and run when one I hear the low drone of a yellow jacket.

Really, the hornets are the only blight on late summer for me.  Mid August  through to Hallowe’en is my favourite time of year.  Mellow days, cool nights, blue skys, white puffy clouds.  The fields are filled with golden rod and my favourite fall flower, the wild purple aster.  Birds begin their wheeling and spinning, filling the air with black winged acrobatics as they gather for their migration to warmer climes.  The squirrels are busy digging up my garden and littering my porch with walnut casings. 

There are pumpkins and squash and melons.  Everywhere you look the bounty of the earth is overflowing, in farmer’s markets, road side stalls, fall fairs.  Children walk to school in hoodies and walk home in short sleeves.  Frost greets us in the mornings and by late afternoon I see friends sipping coffees on outdoor patios wearing t-shirts and sandals. 

Yes, I love this time of year.  Except for the hornets.  I think it’s the way they move.  They hover, and buzz, and come right at you, with no fear.  They smell, and dart, move away, come back, smell some more.  They are not intimidated by my swatting them.  Maybe that’s it, perhaps I am suspicious of anything one hundredth of my size that’s not afraid of me.  What do they know that I don’t?

They get aggressive in the early fall.  I am told it’s because they are mating now.  You would think if they were mating they’d show less interest in me and more in other hornets.  But alas, each walk to and from school with my children has become an obstacle course…don’t get too close to the neighbour’s recycle bin…it’s covered in buzzing, stinging horrors!  Move away from those windfall apples under that tree…my worst nightmares are crawling over the rotting fruit! 

Where do these fears come from?  Why do we find ourselves overwhelmed by such unreasonable concerns?  I believe in the balance of nature.  I know that the hornets, like all the other insects, are an important part of our ecosystem, a beloved piece of God’s creation…but still…

As a result of my over-reaction, my children are now terrified of these buzzing yellow insects, as well.  And that saddens me.  Of all the things I want to pass on to my children, fear was never one of them.

Sometimes I think we encounter these fears in order to overcome them.  As I was walking home today a favourite piece of scripture kept running through my head, from Pslam 104:  

How many are your works, Lord!  In wisdom you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures.”

 I was reminded today that we were not created for fear.  We were created for love.  We were created to care for this fragile creation.  We were created to respect and cherish all life.  So tomorrow I promise to do better.  I promise to face my fears, to show my children that what God created is always good.  I vow to look a hornet in the eye and wish him a good day!  I have my doubts about this plan, but I’ll trust in God’s wisdom and I’ll let you know how it goes! 

To be continued tomorrow…Good night friends!

Today is a Good Day.

Today is a good day. In my life, it's the small victories that bring the most joy. My son is nine. For the past two days, he dressed himself and brushed his own teeth...without being asked, without prompts or redirection. That may not seem like a big deal for anyone with kids older than 4, but it's a first for us. A first for our son.

Today is a good day. Today is the success of more than six years of work to get here. Today I see the fruits of my labours and I have confidence that we will obtain all the other goals we have set for this amazing little person we love!

Living with a person who has special needs changes your perspective and makes you cherish all the little moments that so many of us let slip by unnoticed. I am grateful that God blessed us with this little man who makes me slow down, pay attention, and really WATCH my children growing up. Today is a good day.

Dancing for Joy.

Once again I am struck by the simple JOY of childhood. My little girl, in pink duckie pyjamas, is dancing with her brother, in his new Batman shirt, to "Life Could be a Dream". 

They are twirling and spinning around the dining room, bacon greasy on their lips, chairs left askew in their haste to bop to the beat. The laughter and giggles of this morning, the awkward grace of little bodies dancing, is destined to become one of the best memories of this season of my life. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9G0-4TWwew

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Paradise Lost....and maybe found again.

There is a simple pleasure in watching your children play when they don't know you are there. Just stopped by my son's school during first break and peered through the fence at him for a few minutes (a staff member actually came over to find out who the weird stalker mom was...very politely, mind you).

It was sunny, with a fresh breeze and he was running with abandon along with two other boys. They raced in big circles around the grass, arms wide, heads thrown back, big goofy boy grins on their faces...kings of their little world, filled with joy and innocence and the pleasure in moving your body that comes with youth and energy.

It took me back almost 40 years. I remember when my own body was that strong, when movement didn't require thought or effort, when my feet seemed to fly as I ran. I envy my son these days of childhood. And I take seriously my responsibility to protect them for him, to make sure he doesn't grow up too fast, to guard his innocence and joy as long as I possibly can. I pray that Eden does not fade too soon for you, my darling children.