March 2010

Today was a day.

Where do I start?

It was a luxurious day...although I had a regular day at work, Spring Break has afforded me a break from much of he usual routine.  I have set aside the extra time this week to catch up on things that have been waiting for too long to get done. So, by the end of the day, I have a new battery in my watch, and purchased some basic supplies, took in some pants to get hemmed (one of the costs of being vertically challenged) and took the luxury of munching on a caramel apple while I was being productive in the mall! I’ve got the satisfaction of several things “crossed off” the list.

Partway through the day I caught the headline in the paper of a man who died in a fight at a party…it’s never good to read of the needless death of someone. Violence is ugly. What was hard about this one for me personally, was that the man died at a house party on the same street that I grew up on as child. The street that held hours of playing with the neighborhood kids…street hockey, dodge ball, playing hide and go seek, skipping and the like. Where we would play until it got dark and we would gripe about having to go in when our moms called us. The place where the innocence of childhood held laughter and playfulness—on the weekend, it was the place of violence and death.

When I got home today, it was still light out, and the beautiful spring day was still in all its glory. I had a chance to take advantage of this rare luxury of time and went for a long walk. It was beautiful. Saw runners in shorts and T-shirts and walked by bushes that, on close inspection, showed the earliest signs of budding. I think budding branches have become one of my favorite sights in life. Saw a dad teaching his little girl how to throw and catch a Frisbee. Her delight was clear—his was also very apparent as he enjoyed each time she managed to catch the swirling disc. I watched the patterns of ice on the river, felt the way the ground shakes when a train goes by, and had the chance to take my time enjoying the fresh air. Wow, it was incredible.

Throughout the day though, there was an awareness that years ago, this day was a day that was the beginning of a series of events that changed my and my family’s life forever. It was one of those days that seems so significant when I look back on it, but there was no way of predicting what the end result would be all those years ago. It’s a day I mark internally in my head as one which was the catalyst of much pain, tragedy, growth, forgiveness, and eventually, joy and triumph. A day that had many more frozen puddles than there are today. You know those events in life when you look back and time is marked as “before” and “after”? Today I mark this day as one of those “before and after” days, where time stands still, and I can still lose myself in the silly game of “what if’s”.

Today was a day. It was a sort of day that was intense in its wonderful satisfaction and in its stark memory. The sort of day where wonderfulness and melancholy collide in a kaleidoscope of memory-making and memory-remembering, of delight and destruction, of happiness and horribleness. Today was a day when all that makes us human came together in a day.

Today was a day.

I was listening to a DVD of an interview with Irvin Yalom, one of the formative psychotherapists in my training today.  He quoted a line of his colleague, Otto Rank:

I was at a family wedding shower last weekend.  Brave girl, the new cousin-to-be, daring to walk into a room full of aunts, cousins, and second cousins all of whom are related to her fiancee, and most of whom are complete strangers to her.

She did great, and now has enough small appliances to stock her kitchen.

There are enough of us that unless it’s Christmas or the annual summer BarBQ, or someone is getting married or buried or born, we don’t see everybody all that often. So it was good to be together…to catch up on the ages of kids, find out about new jobs, health struggles, and just share lives with as many as I might get around to…which isn’t nearly everybody.

As is tradition at these things in our family, there was a contemplative time where it became quiet (this was after the bride to be ended up chewing far too many pieces of gum in the required silly-but-necessary shower game) and we were challenged to focus and contemplate the sacred union that S and J are preparing for. Marriage—many of us are married, will be married, or have been married…showers a good time to do some ponderin’ and prayin’…the task of marriage is awesome and a sober thought to challenge and inspire is welcomed.

We started off with each of us reading some quotes by children. Here are a few of my favorites:

• “Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.” ~Bobby, age 7

• “Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.” ~Noelle, age 7

• “Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.” ~Elaine, age 5

• “Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.” ~Chris, age 7

• “You really shouldn't say “I love you” unless you mean it.  But if you mean it, you should say it a lot.  People forget.” ~Jessica, age 8.

There were some giggles, and then some nods as these were read, before my cousin went further in reminding us of core values of marriage.

I love the one that I pulled from the basket and read when it was my turn:

• When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different . You know that your name is safe in their mouth ~Sara, age 4

It reminded of me of a childhood memory that is near and dear. Mrs. M was my childhood babysitter. She was of retirement age and had no children. She came to babysit me and my siblings when I was a child on occasions when my mom went off to work…not nearly full time, but at least every week from the time I was an infant until I was in Grade 5 or so. She didn’t have housework to do when she came, she didn’t make meals (for the most part anyways—she was a terrible cook), she didn’t read or watch TV at our house—at least, not for herself. The sole focus of her energy was to play with us, read with us, talk to us, and enjoy us.  And she did. I think she really liked playing with me. I know I liked playing with her and I liked the feeling of how important I was to her, and how much my opinions and thoughts mattered, and how much she would listen to me—to what I was wanting to play or read together. We would have our little routines that I shared with her, only her. We would have milk in my china teapot for tea parties with her, I and the dolls that got invited…I would pour, and if I did it carefully, and “just right”, we would look up at each other with sparkling, knowing eyes and say, “and not a single drop” in rhythm together as we celebrated a rare lack of spillage.

Mrs. M called me “Caroline”…always, for as long as I knew her, until the day she died. My name is NOT “Caroline”, it’s “Carolyn”. I generally don’t like it when people call me “Caroline”—to me it signifies that they have not taken the time to learn what I am known by, and it speaks to a lack of caring. I don’t make a big deal out of it generally, but I really am not crazy by people not calling me by my given name. Except Mrs. M. My name was safe in her mouth. I don’t know why she called me “Caroline” and not “Carolyn”, but I could hear the love in her voice when she said it. And I didn’t mind at all when she called me that…in fact, I loved it. I loved her.

I remembered how important she was to me, and the truth of Sara’s line helped me understand something about me and her. Helped remind me of the importance of creating relationships where people feel safe with their name in another’s mouth.

Hope begins in the dark,

the stubborn hope

        that if you just show up and try to do the right thing,

the dawn will come.

You wait and watch and work: You don't give up.

 Anne Lamott

Daylight Savings Time...aargh!

I love sunshine, and the last couple of weeks were wonderful as I could have my morning tea looking outside and watching the dog walkers, checking out the size of the puddles on the street, and just generally enjoying watching the world wake up.

This morning...not so much.  Daylight Savings Time has plunged my morning teatime back into the darkness. 

Yuck

Sigh

Grumble

There are some who are reading this that have just had a life experience like that.  A "three steps forward, two steps back" kind of experience that feels really discouraging...or, worse yet, a "two steps forward, three steps back" time of life.  Ouch.

Somedays, like today, it's hard to remember that the days will continue to get longer and we will have daylight again in the mornings.

Today is International Women's Day, day when women are aknowledged and celebrated.  A day when the challenges faced by women in various parts of the world are highlighted.  A day to raise awareness of the courage of women, the inspiration of women, and to remember the unique qualities of women that make our world a better one.  There is growing evidence that the most effective way to make inroads into poverty, disease, sexual exploitation and violence in troubled areas of the world is to invest in educating and empowering women.  As women are able to provide for their families, they are able to establish secure bases for their sons and daughters, preparing the next generation to also grow up to raise their own families in peaceful, self-sufficient ways.

It's having me think about ways Bergen and Associates can contribute to make the lives of families better.  While I'm thrilled with the difference we make in the lives of our clients, and I know we are helping make strong families in Winnipeg, one family at a time, it seems to me that we are all called to do something more.  To join in something bigger than ourselves, to give a hand up to someone who is otherwise beyond our reach, to do our part in bringing justice to the world.  I've done some research and I think it's about time to start makeing some decisions, so that it moves past the "thinking stage" and into an "action phase".

I love this video for it's thought provoking, challenging message that is intended for men and women to contemplate.  Eve Ensler has earned the right to talk about what she talks about...she has spoken to women in all parts of the world, she has heard their stories, has sat with them, has understood the challenges they face.:
I know it is a long video...many won't have time to watch the whole thing.  At 13:30 there is a really cool story of the power of reconciliation and transformation by empowering a girl. If you only have a few minutes, fast forward it to 16:35 to listen to the poem, "I am an Emotional Creature".  Women, I think it will lift your spirits.  Men...you might understand something new and appreciate something in women that you've always been confused about!

Celebrate your "girl cell" today! (If you watch the video, this last line will make sense).

I, like the rest of Canada, was well aware of the final day of Olympics this last weekend.  The hockey game between Canada and the US effectively shut down the country as we all joined together in watching the game, and in joyful anticipation of the eventual victory.  Wow...Sunday felt good, eh?

But the moment that keeps coming back to me this morning as I am at the counselling office is not one at the hockey game, but one that occurred at the beginning of the closing ceremonies.

The moment I most remember opened with humor as a mime in maintenance garb pops up from the non-functioning arm of the Olympic cauldron, and with great showmanship, connects the cord and with all the strength a mime can muster, pulls the cauldron arm up, bit by imaginary bit, into place.  (We remember how only 3 of the 4 arms arose during the Opening Ceremonies, and how the event of having 4 Canadian sporting legends light the Olympic flame together is marred when only 3 can participate.  Catriona Le May Doan just stood there not able to actively participate in the honorable task.  The others contributed and she just stood there.  It was unfortunate.)

But on Sunday afternoon, at the closing games as the giant arm goes up, out of the ground comes Catriona Le May Doan, an Olympic superhero star that was denied her chance to contribute at the Opening Ceremony of the 2010 Olympics. And then she lights her arm of the structure that together formed the Olympic cauldron.

I LOVED it when Catriona arose out of the ground, and she lit her arm of the cauldron.

It was beautiful.
It had humor to it.
It righted a wrong.
There was a sense of empowering justice.
It did so without shame…the whole thing was done proudly at the Closing Ceremony.

But it was a tangible way for the people that “blew it” on the Opening Night with the arm malfunction to express their apology. To visibly and concretely and positively make a wrong, well, to make it right. I respect that. I chucked at the moment, and smiled widely when Catriona got her moment.

It just felt like an apology done well…it “closed the loop” to the initial error in a matter of fact way that says to the world, "We've righted a wrong". 

Thanx, VANOC, for showing the world many good Olympics moments- in my eyes, this was one of the best!