Thanks for the natural attractions

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It was an extended Thanksgiving holiday peppered with family gatherings, feasting and a lot of car travel. It was also one tarnished by news of another assault on a sacred site in the nation’s capital.

I spent most of my vacation week traveling with family to visit others in the Greater Sudbury area. The long drive was accompanied and enhanced by the natural fall colours. We enjoyed a couple of days of conversation, feasting, playing cards and going on an outing to a natural attraction. We drove farther north to Onaping Falls to visit the AY Jackson lookout.

AY Jackson lookout at Onaping Falls

A walking stick rests after a tour of the natural beauty of Onaping Falls

The lookout was named after a famous painting of the falls by Group of Seven member, AY Jackson.

I enjoyed the fresh, cool air and exercise plus another chance to catch up with older and wiser relatives.

Blonde woman at the bridge over Onaping River and Falls

Blonde woman at the bridge over Onaping River and Falls

When I returned home stiff yet elated, I was relieved that one of the offspring heeded my request to visit le petit apartment and check on the cats.

Tabby cat resting in front of house plants

A peaceful Sunday setting in the Tabby cat’s habitat

While I was savoring the memories of visiting Onaping Falls and viewing photographs of its natural settings, my activist friends in the Ottawa area were having to educate the public, the politicians, anyone who would listen about the shameful activities happening again at a sacred site in the Ottawa River.

You too can be informed. Read this interview of Algonquin Elders.

On this Sunday morning, my pen name got involved with sharing her views on this glitzy invasion at Chaudière Falls and its islands.

Thanks for dropping by. Spread the word. Free the Falls!

T

 

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Time and again

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Saturday brought the perfect long weekend weather to get out to a popular exhibit.

Everyone and his uncle thought so too!

I mustered up the courage to match my curiosity. I really wanted to see the MosaiCanada150 exhibit in Quebec. The last time I pushed myself to attend a crowded cultural event was in July.

Prospector plant sculpture MosaiCanada150

The Prospector

With water bottle, granola bars and sun hat ready yesterday, I set out on public transit to cross the river to la belle province – specifically to Gatineau, Quebec.

The Jacques Cartier Park lineup to get in and past security was very long. I didn’t realize until after I took what looked like a clear passage on a side road that I was cutting into the line. I apologized to the people beside me, using my confusion as an excuse.

It was an impressive exhibit.

There were dozens of sculptures artistically made with plants, depicting different stages in Canada’s history. The exhibit took us back in time to the First Nations, the voyageurs and early settlers.

Due to the crowds of people in the way and my short stature, I could not find the time or patience to stop and take photos of all the displays. I adored them with my eyes and stored the images, my reaction and appreciation for them in my short-term memory bank.

Mother Earth plant sculpture

Crowds of humans adoring Mother Earth

 

The main attraction, pièce de résistance was Mother Earth. As I took shaded shelter under the trees before merging into that long queue, I overheard a security guard saying to people resting on the grass,  “Move faster. Move faster!”

I can understand that they wanted to keep bodies moving and make room for the hundreds of others waiting at the entrance. It just seemed ironic that we were being rushed and not allowed the time to stop, to reflect and appreciate the magnificence of the scene.

It was ironic to see Mother Earth set with a backdrop of high-rise buildings. Perhaps it was complimentary in that we can learn to balance our desire for progress and modern expansion with a respect for nature and the ancient traditions.

Perhaps.

Mother Earth plant sculpture

Mother Earth in the city

Did I achieve my objectives?

Yes.

  • I pushed myself to venture into a crowded public place. Alone.
  • I took pictures with my smart phone but I also took time just to admire the art, to observe other people and eavesdrop on their conversations, their reactions to the exhibit.
  • Since I went alone, I was on my own schedule and was able to set my own pace (except when getting swept into the flow past some displays and jammed still at others).

Today it’s raining. I shall stay in my humble home to putter with houseplants, to reflect and write, to cook a batch of meaty pasta sauce.

I changed the C cell batteries in my Zen Alarm clock. Once again it makes a loud and proud chime in the key of E rather than a dull thud. It had been almost three years since I coveted and acquired it.

When I look back at my observations, writing and personal growth since then, it seems that things haven’t improved in our outer world.  It’s like we’re stuck in some ambitious, testosterone-fueled cycle. I know I have been working on myself. What about the rest of the world, for Pete’s sake?!

I changed, edited the quote on that poster from:

“We can never obtain peace in the outer world until we make peace with ourselves.” — Dalai Lama

To:

“We can only obtain peace in the outer world once we make peace with ourselves.” 

I felt the quote could use a positive injection – for so many reasons.

Thanks for dropping by.

T

My great grandchildren will not be blonde

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That’s a bold prediction from someone so naturally fair of skin and hair.

I am okay with that possibility.

First, I can say that because I have brown offspring from a mixed marriage. In my eyes and their doting Aunties’, these children were beautiful, intelligent and well-behaved.

I was often oblivious to the colour of my children’s skin yet experienced some strange looks and comments when we were out in public. The most humorous and innocent was when a child at the local park asked if I was their babysitter.

Yes, they have met challenges with finding their identity, their place in society. They adapted. They survived. Some of them identify as Black or POC (Person of Colour). None of them have adopted urban stereotypes nor have they been in trouble with the law. 

To me, they are beautiful humans, the next generation. I raised them to be positive contributors to their community and to society. They know how to speak up when they see injustices. They too will make beautiful babies if they so choose or can afford to raise a family in this precarious economy. 

In the 90s, I grooved to this song from Michael Jackson. It spoke to me – except for the beginning featuring a loud, dysfunctional family then the parts where MJ is grabbing his genitals, smashing up a parked car and vandalizing empty store windows. Apparently, the main body of the “Black or White” short film reflects the song’s lyrical plea for racial and cultural unity. That message was lost on me into the eight minute mark. I think MJ also wanted to express issues with father figures, the automotive industry, consumerism and colonialism.

You will be thankful I found the shortened version.

My second posit is that my white, blond son from an earlier relationship chose to marry a lovely woman of Asian origin. I see that he inherited the “non-conformist” gene as well as the blond one.

Their children are beautiful. My grandchildren are beautiful.

My grandchildren.   

It was comments I heard years ago from a stand-up comedian that stuck with me and inspired me to draft this blog entry. 

It was the weekend’s nationalist “rally” in Virginia that gave me the angry energy and tenacity to publish it.

Quoting Paul Rodriguez, “One hundred years from now, our children’s children… everybody’s going to be Filipino”

(Start at 1:30)

I’m okay with that.

Regardless of their skin colour or which version of the Creator they honour, I have hopes for my grandchildren, my great-grandchildren and those to follow. 

I hope the shared traits of humanity such as compassion will calm the fear and hatred of those feeling threatened. Is it possible that the good ole boys are scared? Are they trying to protect their heritage, their culture?

Why did it take public outrage at his initial comments for Tweetle-Dum to finally denounce the white supremacists?  

Let’s remember that this continent was occupied by other people thousands of years before those European colonizers and immigrants arrived with their ships.

The first people had a respect for the power of nature, the seasons, the animals they hunted for food. They hunted out of necessity, not for sport. We could learn from the First Nations about living in harmony with nature and planning seven generations ahead.

It’s going to be a struggle but people will learn that harmonious survival of the human race and Mother Earth is more important than skin colour, religious dogma and power. At the basic root, we need to ensure clean air, water and arable land.

Here are some changes i would like to see in our gently blended future: 

  • Muscle cars and air-polluting auto racing will no longer exist. Neither will fossil fuels.
  • Reusable energy from the sun, wind and oceans will power our needs.
  • People will be educated, active and civil. We will see a return to public discourse and philosophical discussions.
  • Artists will be respected and supported regardless of their eccentricities ;-^
  • The fashion industry will reuse materials and will not be so frivolous and wasteful. We will do away with stilettos, latex and skinny jeans.

There will challenges with how we define culture.

Some people may still want to pierce their body parts, tattoo their skin and dye their hair to stand out, to show their individualism or create a sense of belonging in some form of neo-tribalism. Some may try to appear so unique as to bleach their hair blonde. I hope the chemicals don’t harm their brain cells or our ecosystem as a result.

If we deplete and pollute this planet to the point of no recovery and have to spread out into the galaxy, to meet and rely on other species, I just hope we can still celebrate and respect diversity.

 

T

 

More crowded gatherings tests

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Last weekend I attended the Capital Ukrainian Festival.

I was looking forward to music, cultural crafts and … perogies.

I was also challenging my aversion to crowds, spending hours in the hot sun and lining up for food.

Ukrainian dancers on stage

Capital Ukrainian Festival – dancers

The musicians and dancers certainly entertained the visitors in the hot afternoon sun. There were all kinds of vendor tents and scheduled tours of the church.

Capital Ukrainian Festival- tents and church

Capital Ukrainian Festival

I abandoned my quest for perogies and other tasty treats due to the long lineups in the hot sun. The shaded merchant tent was more appealing for my delicate complexion and conducive to locating inexpensive, practical items. I found some colourful, blank greeting cards for sending to family and friends. Yes, I’m one of the people who still do that.

I was attracted to the watches displayed by one of the merchants. I was also curious about the symbols on the watch face.

watches brochure

Ukrainian festival – watches brochure

Coat of arms:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coat_of_arms_of_Ukraine 

It was the Tryzub Cross. I was curious to learn more. The Tryzub Cross is simply a cross-bar on the middle tine of a tryzub.

But what is a ‘tryzub’? And why should it have a cross-bar? ‘Tryzub’ (тризуб) is Ukrainian for “trident” and is one of Christianity’s earliest symbols. A trident with a Cross is associated with St. Vladimir the Great (980–1015).

Read more here: http://www.seiyaku.com/customs/crosses/tryzub.html

The merchant explained the history and practices of the watch manufacturer plus let me try on a couple of the ladies’ models. I didn’t commit to purchasing one right away yet accepted the brochure for something to look at while I digested the price! If you have the means and time to learn more about these beautiful watches, you can visit the vendor’s web site at http://kleynodwatches.com/

Eventually during my wanderings, I came across plenty of Ukrainian Easter eggs.

Did you know…? The word pysanka comes from the verb pysaty, “to write”, as the designs are not painted on, but written with beeswax.

Read on here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pysanka

Pysanska souvenir egg

Pysanka souvenir egg

That appealed to me. Pysaty. To write.

This weekend I also wrote (well… typed) in my other blogs. Drop by if you have the curiosity and time. It won’t cost you much.

Thanks for dropping by.

T

Hope and action for the next 150 years

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A year ago, hundreds of kindred souls joined in a walk from Victoria Island to Parliament Hill.

Indigenous People and allies gathered, walked and demonstrated their support for protecting a sacred place in the heart of Canada’s capital. I joined in too on that hot, sunny day.

We were protesting the condo development that was being allowed due to various cracks in the system of our courts and unfair, unclear zoning laws.

This year, the Faith is Peace march on June 23rd was championed by interfaith leaders who supported the movement to protect this sacred place. We were accompanied by clouds and intermittent rain which seemed appropriate for the tears of disbelief that this demonstration is still necessary during Canada’s 150th birthday year.

Faith is Peace march to Parliament Hill June 23 2017

Faith is Peace march to Parliament Hill June 23 2017

We gathered on the Hill for almost two hours, listening to drummers, singers and speeches. We heard once again about the sacredness of Akikodiwan, the importance of clean water, spiritual ceremonies, partnership of men and women – and with reassurance, the importance of the role of women in Indigenous communities.

Through the rattling and banging of the Canada Day stage construction, the faith leaders’ sound system persevered.

We heard speeches from representatives of various faith groups who reinforced the importance of recognizing and respecting sacred spaces.

We heard young people speak their views on the issue.

Faith is Peace demonstration and speeches on Parliament Hill June 23 2017

Faith is Peace demonstration and speeches on Parliament Hill June 23 2017

 

During the final week of June, Canadians observed interesting developments as a group of Indigenous People, water protectors and their allies made it past Parliament Hill security to erect a ceremonial teepee. After some dispute with police, they were allowed to set up on the East side of the hill. The day before Canada Day, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau visited the demonstrators.

Officials allowed the teepee to remain on the Hill throughout Canada Day celebrations. Progress…

Not many people were eager to participate joyfully in the 150th milestone of colonialism while Indigenous people’s rights were still being ignored. Some downright boycotted it.

Personally, I avoided the crowded downtown Ottawa streets and observed celebrations from the comfort of my dry, humble home and watched online or through the various television broadcasts.

I consider myself a settler descendant. I accept no responsibility for atrocities committed in the past by governments and other institutions. I will accept the opportunity and responsibility to learn more about the issues and offer my voice in support. 

You can learn background information through these resource links:

Sign the petition to the House of Commons in Parliament Assembled

https://petitions.ourcommons.ca/en/Petition/Details?Petition=e-1153

In particular:

  • The United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples declares that indigenous people have a right to protect their sacred places. This must be done for the Sacred Falls and the Islands.

 

Thanks for dropping by and reading about this issue. Please share with family and friends.

I hope it won’t be necessary to join another walk and demonstration again next year. If it is, I will be there.

T

Balancing act

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Can Canada heal itself from within while strengthening its international leadership role? 

I was pleased and proud to see our Minister of Foreign Affairs and Federal Government take a stand about world leadership and show support for the Paris climate treaty.

We are a welcoming people to immigration of political and religious refugees. Our constitution protects religious freedom. Our nation though seems to be struggling with appropriate ways to support healing of the Indigenous people in forms of reconciliation.

I am surprised and ashamed that different levels of government are not recognizing Indigenous spirituality with the respect and attention it deserves. I am in disbelief that a condo developer has been allowed to slither in to make offers and divide the very people that could benefit from restoring a sacred site in the middle of our nation’s capital. Read this analogous story describing the history and present challenges. Read about the vision of a spiritual elder.

Why offer an abandoned US Embassy building without wide consultation? Why not summon the political will and heart to lead in an opportunity for healing?

As a mother, settler descendant and citizen, I once again feel compelled to show my support for restoring the sacred site in the Ottawa River. I will take a day off from my professional role to walk with hundreds of others from an island at the site, to begin a peaceful march up to Parliament Hill.

You can too. Let your god or spirits call to us as the right thing to do.

#Canada150 #Reconcilation #Healing #Leadership

Thank you.

T

Wherever you go – it may be raining

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Spring travel whisked me away from the rainy Ottawa Valley to Vancouver Island.

It rained there too. 

My objectives were made months in advance:

  • Travel somewhere within Canada
  • Push my air travel anxiety limits – further than before
  • Visit with family
  • Do touristy things
  • Do not think about work

My destination was Vancouver Island, just off the coast of British Columbia. The long stretches of flying, sitting, waiting, flying, sitting, etc. tired me out. At various destinations I welcomed opportunities for walking tours and restaurant outings. Soon that tired me out too!

I practiced mindfulness as much as I could, savouring moments and reminding myself to breathe.

One family member took me for a drive up the east coast of Vancouver Island, humoured my request to stop where I could dip my toes into the Pacific Ocean.

Theresa dipping her toes into the west coast ocean waters

Pacific Ocean (well… some inlet) I am in you!

Soon I was on a bus then another bus to the beautiful city of Victoria. I was happy and comforted that relatives were waiting for me, extra umbrellas in hand to provide an escort to my hotel.

While in Victoria, I was treated to sufficient walking excursions, visited a castle and tried food from different restaurants. We had one sunny, windy day.

I spent one rainy afternoon by myself, enjoying bright flower gardens and inhaling the scent of trees in full blossom.

Flowers rain Victoria

A rainy tourist outing in downtown Victoria

A wet park bench

A wet bench and colourful flowers

Soon one of my adult children joined me after his own cross-country tour by train, ferry and bus. He got to meet one set of cousins for the first time. He accompanied me for a walk by the docks, an appropriate lunch and a walking tour up to Emily Carr House.

Lunch at Red Fish Blue Fish – Victoria

As with my tour of the castle a couple of days earlier, we exited through the gift shop and I picked up a few souvenirs.

Blonde Lady sitting at tea table in Emily Carr house

A chance to sit down during a tour of Emily Carr house

Did I achieve my objectives?  Yes! I practiced mindfulness moments wherever I was, taking in the experiences, breathing in and breathing out.

After a long day of travel east, I returned to Ottawa in the rain. I observed the local news about severe spring flooding in our region.

I was glad to be home, to have the chance to do laundry and rest in my creature comforts.

Snuggles was glad to see me too and perform his morning routine of waking me up to serve breakfast and read the online news together. Creatures of habit…

Black cat on lap

“Good. You’re back where you belong – with me!”

Thanks for dropping by.

T

When you were ten

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What did you enjoy doing when you were a child?

Did you like to run and play ball in your big backyard or in the park with other kids? Did you like to colour, to play in the dirt or puddles? Did you try to run away into the nearby forest but return home in time for dinner?

I think that the age range between 8 and 11 years old is one of innocence, adventure and discovery.

This deep thought has been brought to you by page 106 in a book of daily inspirations. I think it is a good reminder for ambitious, jaded adults.

Quote from book invisible force

Good advice: observe babies

…except for the part about pooping in your pants.

When I was ten, I enjoyed playing in big puddles, engineering canals and small towns. I enjoyed playing with Barbie dolls, playing school with my siblings and friends.  I enjoyed drawing pictures. As I matured, I had dreams of creating greeting cards or children’s books.

I didn’t care about fashion or boys. I didn’t know our family was poor. I was oblivious to the inhumanity happening in our country, in our world.

I didn’t even know I was fat until it was pointed out by a friend’s older brother.

The jerk.

 

This particular winter sucks

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It’s been a long, cold, lonely winter. In my opinion, March came in like a soggy little lamb.Old Man Winter has since elbowed his way in and frosted up my windows again.

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I am tired of wearing my bulky winter coat and big boots. It’s no fun while waiting for city buses that don’t show up on time.

I have aches in my body and my tender heart. I have no motivation to do morning stretches. I have to push myself to get on the buses in to the city. Some days I just want to stay home and putter.

I am tired of supporting flakey technology that doesn’t provide consistent results.

I feel inconvenienced. I used to like puzzles and technical challenges.

I feel like an old grump.

 

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Je suis déçu!

On the other hand, I have been embracing my inner child, nurturing and encouraging that shy artist from my awkward adolescence.  You can read more at the blog where the Tabby Cat rules.

Thanks for dropping by. Excuse me as I grumble, preparing to take the weekend buses in a quest for new stretchy pants and “stylish” Mom jeans. First world problems…

T

To everything there is a season

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and a time to every purpose under the heaven

Ecclesiastes 3 King James Version (KJV)

Central Experimental Farm and tractor

Central Experimental Farm, reaping what was sown 2016

For me, 2016 was a year full of challenges and opportunities, reunions and departures.

I can accept that winter is here and we should acknowledge its presence as part of the cycle of life. Also, I can’t afford to travel to somewhere exotic or warm…

Central Experimental Farm December 2016

Central Experimental Farm December 2016 – Covered up and ready to start all over again

As a parent and grandparent, I have concerns for the future of our planet and humanity now that the pendulum has swung back to allow for unbalanced, machismo leaders to take the reins of power. Many of us are wondering what the heck went wrong…  Yet, I can cherish the moments I had with loved ones this year and will embrace naive hope for sharing happy times with them again.

My gift to readers of this blog is another time-lapsed photography project. You may remember and hopefully enjoyed the four seasons with two trees from the autumn of 2014 and summer of 2015, and that whimsical cat grass grow-up project this past summer.

This latest obsession was started with joy as I celebrated new opportunities and gave thanks while waiting for the weekend bus near the Central Experimental Farm.

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Thank you for dropping by. I hope you enjoyed that. Here’s a soundtrack and some nostalgia for those of you born before 1963…

You can also visit the Tabby Cat’s blog for the recent offering or my pen name’s blog to see what she is up to.

Wishing naively for peace on Earth and good will…

T