One can only wonder after watching the horrifying events at the United States capitol during the first week of January, about the legacy the former president leaves behind and how he will be remembered. Even as this final chapter concludes with yet another surreal political event as the GOP has failed to uphold impeachment charges for “incitement of insurrection”, it seems like the United States will remain deeply divided for a long period of time.
Once the brakes were finally used to stop this man’s penchant for using social media as a vehicle to unleash a litany of questionable statements and at times, incendiary rhetoric, things seemed to have toned down. This does little to distract from the likelihood that he will fail to be held to account for the fatalities that occurred on January 6th or the trauma imposed on public servants and indeed, the country. And given the power that he seems to hold within the Republican party, the muting of his voice is likely only temporary.
To an outsider, the past four years of American politics have seemed like a bizarre farce playing out on a reality type television show. With the second impeachment trial now concluded, and millions of individuals still standing firm in their populist, racist, destructive viewpoints, I can’t help wonder and perhaps, worry that what this man has done will not in fact be understood with accuracy but instead glorified.
I hope that this object in the rearview mirror does not appear larger than it really is.
As the winter drags on, a polar vortex descends, blanketing most of the western Canadian prairies in temperatures so cold they are labelled as extreme and dangerous. Suddenly it seems that any motivation I have to write has disappeared. It’s simply vanished.
Winds outside my window howl, gusting relentlessly, siphoning moisture from the air. Skin cracks easily, becoming almost lizard like, now sucking up even the strongest of lotions. Constant reapplications makes it hard to hold a pen, my favoured writing instrument. Outside adventures are placed on hold, walking from room to room in my home now serves as the only form of daily exercise.
Why is it so difficult to create, I find myself wondering, to become inspired, to write when these horrid weather conditions descend upon us? Puzzled by this, I have been searching for answers, seeking motivation from outside of myself. Likely the wrong place to find the solution to this.
Gazing out the window of my office this morning, my treasured writing space, I notice that frost builds incredible patterns on windows that appear to dance during the sunrise. Backlit by the red glow of the sun, I am drawn to the shimmering vision before me.
Tiny intricate designs are there if one looks carefully, hiding beauty, revealing the apparent nature of creativity that surrounds me. A dawning realization emerges in my mind, and suddenly a different kind of energy begins to take shape within.
Finally, words begin to form in my mind’s eye, ideas begin to excite. I move to my desk and although somewhat stilted at first, like an ice jam that suddenly begins to thaw, the winter words seem to release and move onto the page. And just like that, I find that I can write again.
Earlier this week, an online news article caught my attention and has been the impetus for a new creative daily exercise habit. A Canadian woman, Christine Watson began writing a daily haiku on April 7, 2020 as a part of her participation in a free global art project – The 100 day project. But once the 100 day mark was up, she didn’t stop.
Describing writing daily haikus as a habit she couldn’t stop, her journey of writing these short poems defined by 3 lines, and 17 syllables, continues. Seeking inspiration from all around her seems to have served to be not only positive and grounding in spite of the chaos in the world around us, but has captivated many people.
Integrated with photography, her daily haikus posted online, have stimulated creative activities both within her family and her community. Coincidentally, the same day I read about this unique approach to developing a daily creativity habit, a library book I had placed a hold on became available. Natalie Goldberg has just published, “Three Simple Lines – A Writer’s Pilgrimage into the Heart and the Homeland of Haiku”.
Feeling energized by the possibilities of this creative practice, I have begun filling pages of my writer’s notebook with what are certainly novice attempts at haiku. This poetic device on the surface seems simplistic but I suspect the complexity of this art form will take a long time to develop.
Galvanized by both Christine Watson’s story and Natalie Goldberg’s newest writing book, this feels like something worthy of focus. As with any type of creative exercise, this often seems to beget more creativity. So it seems like it should be a win/win kind of thing. The only downside I can see is that you shouldn’t do this too late at night.
Or you end up counting syllables instead of going to sleep.
The world seems to be spinning faster and faster, veering out of control, and heading to who knows where. The irony is that most of us are not even in it unless we are masked, six feet apart, and are only out for some type of essential purpose. We are isolated, working from home, worrying about things we may not be able to see and certainly are unable to control.
News cycles bring more negativity even when we should be celebrating certain events like the change in United States Presidency (finally!). Actually, the end of an era south of the border seemed like it might have no end. And who knows if the constant chaos will continue to reign triumphant due to bitter seeds sown of hatred, racism, and greed now fuelled by so many.
New variants of Covid, not enough production capacity to produce vaccines, bizarre weather patterns bringing temperatures to warm then plunging into frigid arctic cold, all accompanied by a simmering anger that so many are indulging in. Protests that seem to pop up daily with no real solutions and thoughts for change that might benefit all of us.
Political shell games, ruthless economic decisions, and the grinding list on the negative news cycles that seems to be endless. Conspiracies perpetuated on social media that seemingly intelligent people believe, and share which just serves to fuel the spread of both inane and vitriolic theories like greased lightening. Good grief!
Rest, refilling our wells to live our lives in a positive way, seems critical whether we are isolated or not. Sometimes doing nothing may be the best thing we could do for both ourselves and others.
We’re in a giant car heading towards a brick wall and everyone’s arguing over where they’re going to sit.
David Suzuki
Last week, we endured one of the most bizarre winter storms ever seen on the Canadian prairies. Unusually warm weather has been with us since the new year, almost unheard of in the month of January which normally is referred to as “frigid”. Our day began with rain, lots of it, coating everything in ice as the day progressed and winds picked up and snow began to fall. This arctic blast continued to escalate as day became evening and soon the wind outside our house began to sound like a freight train.
Winds battered houses, toppled trees, mangled traffic lights, wreaked havoc on outbuildings in rural areas, and culminated in a province wide power outage. Meterologists who measure wind speed gave this particulate blizzard an EF-1 wind rating normally used for tornadoes. There were hundreds of stranded drivers on highways across the province and many accidents. Given our hospitals are full of people with COVID-19, it was incredibly fortunate that there were no serious injuries.
But the power outages lasted for hours and hours as the winds continued to howl and blow with phenomenal speed rendering it impossible for anyone to fix the lines. Our power company claimed that “galloping lines” were to blame, meaning power lines were blown into each other with many toppled and exploding. Hour after hour, homes became colder and colder as the day progressed and the storm continued to rage on.
Those of us living on the Canadian prairies routinely experience the wrath of mother nature especially during the months of January and February. Usually temperatures this time of the year are bitterly cold and any amount of wind results in what is known as “windchill” which can result in frostbite within minutes. So we are not strangers to harsh weather where your nostrils typically feel like they are melded together when you venture outside and lack of moisture content in the air makes your skin dry and peel.
But this weather system seemed markedly different. Arctic blasts with lots of snow, and whiteout wind conditions knocking out part of our power grid has definitely happened before. But this one seemed so unusual. Rain coating everything on the Canadian prairie is not typical. Nor are winds sustained at tornado levels for more than a few hours rendering it impossible to restore electricity and power.
Hours dragged on with no way to contact the power company and no way to know how long houses would be without electricity. Rows of houses sat silent, and dark, and growing increasingly cold as day became another night. A global pandemic with escalating active cases meant not many places for people to go and warm up. You’d think this would be a wake up call for all of us. How could we live on the cold, Canadian prairie without the means to heat our homes.
These types of weather events have increased in the past few years around the globe but the strangeness of this storm should help quell the rhetoric from the local climate change deniers. At least until the spring. Then we will like see a resurgence of protests against carbon taxes, green initiatives, and demands that more resources go into the fossil fuel sector. Good grief!
One can only hope that following the pandemic, we turn our collective attention to climate change and begin to pay heed to what nature is demanding we work to reverse. This storm was an awfully unpleasant wake up call that was too close for comfort. Let’s hope we move to action to reverse or at the very least, halt the devastation that we have done to our planet.
Dreams are meant to be followed. Have the courage to follow yours. Do things that challenge you, scare you, and make you feel alive.
Liz Pearson
Have you ever found yourself struggling with frustration during these difficult days because your most cherished hopes and dreams seem elusive and outside of your reach? When we are unable to meet our deeply held dreams and goals in our lives, we may feel that our lives have become stagnant, lacking in purpose, or that we have drifted off course.
At times, our life circumstances become the barriers to achieving the dreams that we cherish the most and secretly hold onto. There are a myriad of reasons that could prevent us from reaching our dreams at different points in our lives. Dreams may recede, lose their magnetic pull, be impractical, or simply become replaced by new ones.
Sometimes it appears that we have discarded our dreams and never expect them to play a part in our lives in the future. There are numerous possibilities that alter our life dreams. Self-doubt. Self-criticism. Inertia. Lack of time, resources, a global pandemic, etc.
But, do we need to give them up altogether, when daily living, responsibilities, and obligations may interfere with what we are most passionate about.
We have the ability to place dreams on hold rather than give them up completely. As we age, the internal clock that guides us, begins to tic louder and louder. We may begin to experience the urge to throw caution to the winds and face our challenges and our fears to try to move forward to realizing our dreams. For me, this urge has become stronger as I have become older.
Our time is limited and we should pay attention to those inner voices that prod us to take action. Dreams are meant to be pursued. You really never will know what is possible until you take a risk and move towards the dream that is calling to you. Begin someplace, anyplace, so long as you start to experience a sense of momentum.
Taking small steps towards what inspires passion and purpose within us becomes critical to our creative well-being. Roadblocks in our way simply suggest that it is time to pivot and find new ways to reach our goals, our hopes, and our dreams. This pandemic may have caused some of us to place dreams on hold in order to adapt to this new reality. But it shouldn’t mean that we lose them forever.
I don’t believe that our dreams have expiry dates – do you?
Many stories matter. Stories have been used to dispossess and to malign. But stories can also be used to empower, and to humanize. Stories can break the dignity of a people. But stories can also repair that broken dignity.
Stories that move our hearts often stay with us for a long period of time. This week one of those kinds of stories emerged from a small community in our province about a young girl who had been shamed for wearing a traditional Indigenous ribbon skirt to a school event prior to the Christmas break. Her auntie had made this beautiful piece of clothing intended to symbolize her strength, womanhood, and her First Nations identity.
This young girl set off for school excited by the beauty of her skirt and pride in being able to wear this sacred piece of clothing. Shamed by a school employee for not wearing the right type of clothing, this child returned home defeated and confused. Her auntie used social media to share what had happened at school and to reach out to women to share the meaning and power of the ribbon skirt.
What transpired was really a movement where many Indigenous women posted and shared photographs of their own ribbon skirts from around the globe. These garments are works of art and the pride with which they are worn was evident in the photos that were shared. What mattered to me the most about this story was that the focus was not on the “shaming incident” at the school but the positive way in which so many women reached out to share their pride in their heritage and in the power of the ribbon skirt.
Listening to an interview with this girl, her enthusiasm and excitement from all of the posts her family received, it was hard not to smile and appreciate the positivity that was created. Pride in her First Nations ribbon skirt and sense of belonging with other girls and women from around the world became the message of the story.
When it was time to return to school this week, her family and members of her First Nation community organized a march back to the school all wearing their ribbon skirts or ribbon shirts. Accompanied by the performance of a drumming group and the attendance of chiefs from surrounding First Nations, this young girl returned to school with a renewed sense of pride in who she is and accompanied by the positive power of her community.
My thoughts have returned to this story many times since I heard it. Messages of positivity, forgiveness, and reconciliation were delivered with pride and a power that resonates.
The end of a year is typically a time for some reflection on what is behind us and planning for celebrations as we usher in the new one. Since we can’t engage in typical New Year celebrations, many of us are spending more time than usual in reflection.
2020 seems to have been a year full of contradictions. A global pandemic that initially brought us together and then seemed to polarize and pull us apart. Countries demanding restrictions to keep everyone safe and then struggling as conflicts emerged when resistance and resentment set in. Neighbours rallying to cheer on health care workers at the end of shifts to large gatherings where protestors demonstrated against masks and science.
From sharing the best sourdough bread recipes to open defiance of public health guidelines. Where friends and family in isolation found comfort and connection in Zoom meeting rooms to phone hotlines set up so you could report anyone who violated the rules. While staying six feet apart, we learned to respect others around us in order to keep them safe to annoyance at anyone who seemed to think and behave differently than we did.
As vaccines are rolled out around the world, and lack of patience and exhaustion with our isolated world threatens to take hold, my wish for the new year is for more kindness. Kindness to everyone regardless of their point of view. Kindness to those in our lives who have managed their personal risk differently than we might have. Kindness which will be healing and help us transition into the world when this pandemic ends.
Farewell to the year 2020 – may the new year bring safety, good health, and above all, more kindness in each of our hearts.
Remember, happiness isn’t defined by how much you spend on gifts and celebrations. It is what you do, how much you love, how caring and supportive you are, and above all your true compassion for others.
Christine Ibbotson
As this festive Christmas season envelops us, reaching out to those we care about even if we are unable to visit in person, is more important than ever this year. Embrace connectivity in whatever format, reaching out in spirit across miles, cities, streets, and even to those who live to next door to us.
This year we will celebrate the holidays in new and different ways. Traditions have had to change, and with Covid restrictions, we have the opportunity to focus less on consumerism and more on those we love by taking the time to communicate with them in many different ways.
Best wishes for a wonderful, safe, and healthy holiday season!!
You can’t hit a home run unless you step up to the plate. You can’t catch a fish unless you put your line in the water. You can’t reach your goals if you don’t try.
Kathy Seligman
Have you ever attempted to do something that you were certain you would not succeed at, and you did, in spite of yourself? This was where I found myself six weeks ago, musing about the fact that I had entered my name to participate in the flash fiction event, Flash Nano 2020. Even more amazing was the fact that I actually completed it. 30 prompts = 30 flash fiction stories. Whoa!!
I realize that for many writers, November is the month of National Novel writing contests and events but the flash fiction genre has captured my heart and mind for the past year so when I learned about Flash Nano, it made sense to at least try it. I must admit self-doubt almost prevented me from even signing up so upon reflection that is likely the first lesson that I need to pay the most attention to. It is all too easy to talk yourself out of things rather than into them.
Once that negative self talk is corralled, then we need to battle with procrastination and inertia. There are likely many great reasons why we don’t accomplish certain things but there are equally as many that speak to us about why we should. Pushing through procrastination is really about pushing past our fears. For this event, I had no one but myself to account to. I did mention I was doing this writing practice to my writer’s group but they would have all understood and likely been supportive if I had come up with some credible excuse as to why I decided not to follow through.
But the lesson of moving forward despite that fear, has value that carries over to other areas of our lives as well. This was an activity that I chose partially in an effort to try to incorporate discipline into my writing life, to learn to push barriers aside, and to learn the craft of the genre that I am writing in. Writer’s are solitary creatures but when we gather there is often a shared sense of connection. That’s why we gather, right.
Satisfaction. Personal accomplishment. Goal achievement. All these outcomes from this particular activity also served as teachings, lessons learned, and opportunity to develop confidence to push forward. An opportunity to create, to write, to reflect, to engage with other writers. It was truly win win. When we decide to set out to achieve something, there is tremendous value in seeing a project through to the end. And if you can do it once, then I am convinced that the next time will be just a little bit easier.
Now I just need to figure out what is going to be next…Take a moment to celebrate all of the goals you meet regardless of how big or small. We all deserve that quiet moment to reflect on our accomplishments and to experience the joy of completion.
Visions of Transition 