I’ve posted pretty positive stuff this morning. First, I posted a slide show of ‘Flowers Coming to Life’ that a friend of mine sent via electronic mail early in the day. I haven’t been in touch with her for a very long time, but that doesn’t really matter because if I were to see her today, we would just take up where we left off. And it would take something very major to get us to end the conversation and find ourselves back on our way to another series of months without speaking with one another. In some respects, I feel like I neglect our friendship, but in others, I think that we are truly blessed with what we have. Love, apart/together OR together/apart, whichever way you wish to view this.
Second, I posted a tune by a former student, Nicholas Field. I always thought that Nicholas was brilliant. I enjoyed his writing, but more important, I think, I enjoyed his perceptions of things…that he was honest, sometimes brutally so, during class discussion. He made things interesting. He shook things up. He felt things, deeply. Hmm…he was actually engaged. Sometimes students just weren’t. I know I was like that in Junior High about some things. I wrote about Nicholas On January 25, 2007. It’s interesting to see how things move….how time moves.
Ok….so, these two bits of positive stuff are like pieces of bread. So far today, they have created a sandwich and the filling…well, just so much for a single morning really. Sometimes life just amazes me.
I headed out for church at 8:30. Mass was rich and spirit-filled, as per usual. My first-born was responsible for singing the psalm and for the first time ever I was left breathless by the beauty of her voice. I regret that I didn’t compliment her in just that way. As mother’s do, I think I said, “The Psalm was amazing…you were so clear.” Hmmm…in retrospect, I wished I had let her know just how spectacular it was. I think that I heard her every word and that doesn’t always happen. My ears were opened. She proclaimed the word! Her voice was beautiful.
As well, the homily was powerful. Our assistant priest, Father Jerome explored the meaning to the words.
I felt happy ‘in my head’. I just really really appreciate it when I am left thinking about the Word of God. I dropped my daughter to the gym club and proceeded to pick up the ham for Sunday family dinner at the grocery store and was happy to make the decision for Schwartzie’s potatoes instead of mashed.
My cousin had a pot of home made oatmeal sitting on the stove for me, on my arrival. It was the type sweetened with raisins! Yummers! I enjoyed a bowl full, along with my hot coffee and read a bit from a book I had picked up last week from the WIN store, three books for $2.09. This one is titled The Vision Board: The Secret to an Extraordinary Life. I plan on creating something along the lines of a vision board over the next while and I’m heading for a Dream Retreat at the end of the month with my daughters, so all of this is of interest to me. After enjoying my bowl of porridge, I took pause as my cousin shared some news she had picked up on the internet…and this brings me to my title, “You Can Choose to Be Positive.”
Our conversation and reading brought me to such a painful story that I felt that I might have an impossible time turning my mood back to the absolute brilliance and blessing of this day. Our thoughts turned to the story of the mass genocide of Mohawk children on Canadian soil, as connected with residential schooling in 1832. I was blinded by anger as I poured over some of the writing and film that has been published on Youtube on this topic. As recently as the beginning of this month, authorities have begun the painstaking act of unearthing these graves and thus, unearthing the history and circumstances of our First Nations people. History has left so many scars and so much woundedness. We find these scars in immediate families, in organizations of every sort and it never fails to shock or disappoint when acts of human hatred are brought to light. A blog post is insufficient for saying all that needs to be said on this specific topic. But, to move through such a wondrous autumn day like this one, without at least acknowledging that this is on my heart, would be wrong.
I think that it is important to pray for forgiveness and for love in all matters such as these. It is important to live a better life and to respond to a greater calling because of historical events such as these. It is imperative that we become called to greater wisdom and kindness. Every child, every person, needs to be recognized for their beauty. There is no place for racism, hatred and division in our world. I decided to keep this story tucked close to my heart and to move forward into my day…and what better than to go outdoors where the sun was shining and golden leaves were gathering on the grass.
A neighbour greeted Max and I, crossed the street and spoke of a phone conversation with her mother in Bulgaria. She talked about how her mother was complaining of the cold and how she was a survivor of breast cancer. She shared a new connection with me as neighbour and headed west on the circle, for a walk. I headed for the community park with Max for a combination of Whizzo and ball, a great time really as he actually returned to me throughout the exercise, instead of deciding at the end that the game should evolve into a game of keep-away instead of return. From there, we went to pick up a new bag of bird seed and returned home to listen to Bailey Diane Sutton’s musical recommendation for today and to write about a single day…one where I chose to be positive.
Happy Sunday dinner, to all of you!