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Still Searching #Anniversary #Compassion #1000Speak

Four years ago, I joined in with many other bloggers and writers, all wanting to speak up on the need for more compassion in the world.

I was fresh off of a lot of rejection and I needed a reminder of something good:

1000 Voices Speak For Compassion

was that goodness.

I wrote my first post
“Planting the Seeds of Compassion”
along with I believe, more than 1000 other writers. We wrote about good deeds, selflessness, rejecting anger, and now we come to that one, four years later.

What have I learned about compassion in the four years since 1000Speak?

Since this blogging movement took place, #45 has come into the picture. Before he became leader of the US, I could ignore him, turn from his fake television show and to something worth my time. Now, being America’s neighbour, I can’t simply turn the channel. I wish I could.

I can look for compassion in myself, offer it to other people, but he is a good example of one time I cannot.

The creators of #1000Speak have stated:

“Due to current world events between Trump-era America and the Brexit Shambles, the theme for 2019 is how to get beyond complacency or apathy to find compassion in times of division, and how to be compassionate towards people we disagree with, without condoning cruelty.”

Anyone who can judge character could spot the lack of it in the current president. That is me, lacking compassion in not even trying to understand what someone (#45 voter/supporter) may be thinking, but there are times that I come to a brick wall and there’s nowhere else to go.

I can try to understand what brought the US to voting in such a man. I can do this. I can’t give compassion for the man himself. I could try to imagine him, as a child, to wonder at what made him into the man he is today. I can and have done this, but unlike with the same for his base, I know he is who he is and he won’t ever change. It’s nice to be able to believe in redemption, but reality smacks you in the face like walking (face-first) into that brick wall I just mentioned.

Ouch! Now my nose, your nose is broken and bloodied.

Of course, I condone no cruelty toward anyone, not even him, but the world took an ugly turn since we first wrote about compassion, and there’s no point in covering that fact up.

I still try to live the best life I can. I am not at all complacent or apathetic, though I feel so helpless most times. I have done several things since 2015’s 1000Speak, including making an effort to improve life, here in Canada specifically, for those who are blind like myself.

I discovered the benefits of yoga and I learned the basics of how to play the violin. I let the music sooth my jangled nerves. We need to take care of our own well-beings, if we even have a hope of showing compassion toward those we disagree with, fundamentally.

Those who are self-serving can and will do what they please. I can let myself live in disgust and anger, or I can focus on the better world I’d like to see.

I can see that there is more going on in the world than what’s happening in the US or in the UK, though those places are major players in the world.

I can worry about a new friend’s birthplace in the brewing nastiness between Pakistan and India that’s going on, has been for many years. The world is full of greedy, selfish men who run things, not to mention a few women who are making giant moves on the world stage, in charge of countries too. It’s all about power and it sickens me, but I can’t let that feeling of being so small in a big, big world get me down. If I do that, compassion for others or not, I would drown in the despair of it all.

I’m afraid of where the world is heading, that we’ve allowed the fascination with something so destructive as nuclear weapons even become an available option baffles me to no end. It is so easy to lose control of many things, of it all.

So I let other bloggers and writers I’ve been blessed to know since starting to blog myself speak to the beauty that still exists,
like here for example,
and I keep searching, determined to stand with those finding silver linings.

I owe a lot to the instigators of this compassion movement:

Lizzi and her Silver Linings
and
Yvonne Spence and her inspiring compassion stance.

Though it has fizzled out somewhat from the original explosive response to the idea of writing on compassion.

It won’t ever fade away completely. It is a necessary effort, but I am still fighting with my internal bewilderment at the choices of other people, not wanting to call them out on it, but being unsure how to find a way to better understand.

I guess I can’t claim any great victory over my emotions on many things going on in the world today and since 1000Speak. I wish I had come to some grand revelation on the path to seeing the other’s side. I am still searching for a way to that place of comprehension.

I still wanted to participate, on this four-year anniversary, though my wisdom is lacking in my contribution. I am showing up, anyway, and showing my willingness to keep trying. I will not give up on the search for more and greater compassion.

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TToT: Thirty-five For Me and Five For Her Headache, #Blogiversary #10Thankful

Here, I hope to leave something behind when I go. Here, I won’t look back with any shame or regret at what I’ve said, what I’ve written. I am proud to be Her Headache.

I am
thankful
for this blog and all those who’ve found me here and read what I’ve written on these virtual pages, ever since that 2014 February of my thirtieth birthday.

As for how to celebrate my five-year anniversary with this space, I couldn’t quite settle on how to best show my gratitude and my pride on all that this blog has brought to my life.

In the beginning, it all started with me showcasing my
BUCKET LIST
of items I’d wanted to experience.

Since my kidney transplant, twenty-two years ago, I am all about not taking each day for granted and my list was a way of stating my purpose and no longer settling for less out of fear. Things like chronic pain and disability threatened to take away a life worth living, but I fought against that and found this blog as a part of that.

In this last five years, I’ve been lucky to check off several things on the list, though I am enjoying the ups and downs of the journey, as I’ve learned that to be the best part of the whole thing really.

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Still, I can’t stop wondering where life will take me and so here we go with the review of the things I have done and seen in five years that I may not have dreamt I’d do, during the most difficult days in my past:

I am thankful for the teacher I’ve had, for the last three years, since I decided to take a chance to learn to play an instrument in my thirties. Violin was beautiful to me and I wanted to learn to play with a bow, to produce those kinds of heartbreakingly gorgeous sounds I’d heard from the violin for years. I was drawn to it since I gave up on clarinet back in high school. (Too much air needed, blowing into that thing, which was hard on my head, prone to headaches already.)

She is leaving on a new adventure soon and I must face that thing I often dread, “Change”.

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I am thankful for my violin and the progress I’ve made so far, even when I get down on myself for not learning more, faster.

I am thankful for my autumn of 2018 visit to the Maritimes, Canada’s eastern provinces, even my short visit and the limited bit of Nova Scotia I saw. I am thankful I got to place a small item, a token of my appreciation for her gift of iconic literary characters like Anne Shirley in Canada’s cultural landscape, on her gravestone. I got to write a note of my gratitude, from one writer to another, in the guest book in the house Lucy Maud Montgomery was born in. I was brave to finally state, in writing, that I think of myself as a writer, even up next to someone as talented as Montgomery.

I am thankful I got to walk along those Prince Edward Island beaches, the coastline and the smell of the sea. Red Point. The End of the World P.E.I. and the force of the wind at that spot, lighthouse next to a drop down to fearsome ocean roaring down below me.

In these last five years, (not only out east) but I’ve traveled to Mexico, Yukon, British Columbia, and back to Florida for the fourth time.

I am thankful I got to make it to my twenty-year anniversary with my kidney, from my father, and that I got to celebrate that with him and my family and friends, zip lining at my favourite Niagara Falls on the Canada side. I hope to zip line in more places around the world in future.

I am thankful I technically did get my writing available in bookstores, when I wrote a short piece which was included in a print magazine called Misadventures. It was only available in Barnes & Noble, in the US, so a friend went into one and took pictures for me of that magazine on the shelf. I hold that book in my hands and am proud to know I have writing inside of it.

I thought it fitting to make my five-year blogiversary into a TToT post, one of the best things to come out of this blog since 2015 when I discovered other bloggers doing it and I joined their exclusive TToT blogging community.

Thank you, TToT comrads and all of you, for visiting me here. You’re the best.

All jokes aside on the wisdom of getting older, as I turn thirty-five and look back and look ahead, I know the fun is in the journey, not necessarily its destination. Still, I will always write about it all here, or for as long as I am meant to,

Where will I be in five years? And, how will I have gotten there?

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One Continuous Motion and the Cooling #JusJoJan #SoCS

I am tracking my plans for 2019 as I take part.

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Or jotting is more accurate.

For today’s instalment, it’s my
television
that is front and centre.

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I can also write from a stream of consciousness POV about my thoughts on how I hate working out, but I do need to build up my strength.

The blowing snow today is the kind of wintery wonderland I love to see, as part of why living in Canada is a beautiful thing. As far as exercise goes, I am indoors and on my exercise bike. It is an old one that I started riding back when it sat in my oma’s furnace room, along with the fruit cellar I used to go into to get a can of Coke. As a kid, maybe some sugar gave me more energy to ride that bike, but now I stick to soda water.

I am in definite need of a new seat for the thing though. I rode for about 10-15 minutes the other day and I got up to 35 today, but my arms have been sore all day and they stretch a little too far to reach to hold onto the handle bars and my butt is so sore, it is painful to get off the bike when I’m done. The knitted seat cover has its charm and it came from my oma, but maybe there’s something more comfortable out there, even fit for this old thing.

I can’t say I like sweating, but I know I need to break into one to be getting some benefit. Although, there is something refreshing about getting of the bike and feeling the cooling all over my skin that the process causes.

But back to why I speak of needing my TV. I have music channels on there that I crank up, with my speakers out here, and I focus on the steady roar of the bike and the sound of those songs that keep me moving my legs in one continuous motion.

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Measurements In Love and Mathematics, #JusJoJan

This sounds suspiciously like measurement. Translation, math I mean.

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I guess, in relationships, we’ve got to learn to give an
inch
or two. That’s what’s known as compromise, right?

Sometimes, I wonder if I am any good at relationships and love at all, that maybe I can admit when I am wrong, okay. Other times, if I am truly passionate about something, I can get rather heated in defence of my principles.

Maybe, it’s less about measurements of love and relationships and more that I don’t think I’ll ever be enough for someone. I think I’m better with human relationships than with mathematical measurements, but perhaps not so much.

Yeah, I’m incredibly cheery all this long January of the jot.

Thanks,
John Holton,
for the rather mathematical sounding word for the 17th of January.

The depression many feel during this long month, for me, will only be increased with the mathematical, but there’s always a jot to be found in there somewhere.

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Finding The Abbey Felt Like Striking Gold #JusJoJan

All the music and the books and shows that are out there I have yet to know of, I think to myself, as I watch Downton Abbey (for the thirtieth time) as I eagerly wait for the film to come out. FYI: I have months to wait still.

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I like to think of all the explorers and inventors and everything
undiscovered,
going back through history and into the present and the future I have yet to enter myself.

As I am halfway through the first month of 2019 already, I know there’s so much to discover too.

I am an explorer of my year, in my own personal narrative of a life, as I approach turning thirty-five. Sure, I am feeling wary of what might be or might not, but I am ready for the adventure and the exploration of what this year is meant to become.

Yeah, depending on the day and sometimes the hour you ask me in/on, my mood about all this changes. I feel like the start to 2019 is a slow one, but really I can’t complain about that. Life, when much more interesting, isn’t always the better alternative.

I am trying to see what’s next for me and I don’t always look at that as being a positive thing. I know I need to keep hold of the right attitude in this whole self-discovery dance I’m doing. I don’t dance well, but sometimes, you just have to flail around a bit, all four limbs, and not worry so much about what that might look like.

After all, last year at this time, I hadn’t bothered to give Downton a chance yet. How silly thirty-three-year-old me was for that.

Thanks today goes out to
The Haunted Wordsmith
for such a thrilling word. (Love the blog name btw.)

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What Lovers Believe, #TBT #JusJoJan

Great lovers from period series Downton Abbey both told each other, during two separate crisis points in their love story:

“Do you ever doubt?”

“No, and I don’t doubt that the sun will rise in the east either.”

Now that’s beautiful faith, but more so it’s a belief in what really does happen, ever morning on earth. It is predictable and undeniably inevitable.

I don’t doubt the
sunrise
taking place in the eastern sky either and I do always try to look on the bright side of things.

Okay, all cliches aside. I may see the sun rising over the horizon less clearly than I once did, but I still find the sun appearing in the sky fresh every morning to be one of the best parts of living in this world, in this life. I can expect it and count on it. I like that.

It’s what happens the rest of the day I can’t quite count on or predict quite so easily and that’s what has me feeling uneasy on an ongoing basis, as this new year goes along and gets going.

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Fish Less #JusJoJan

I don’t like to write in an outward manner. I often think and reflect, inwardly at myself and my life, but when I have to show any kind of outward version of that self reflection, I shy away from the whole thing.

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The way I choose to look at it,
self
is the most important thing, but that only sounds selfish when spoken out loud.

If I don’t like myself, I don’t believe I deserve all the good things life could possibly have in store for me and I can’t likely be much good for others.

I go back and forth between thinking I am a good writer, friend, speaker for myself and thinking I must be bad at such things, lacking in large ways.

As I try to imagine the year ahead for myself, I keep hitting roadblocks in that vision. My 2019 is wide open, but I am at the centre of that. I am the one to make decisions for my own life and I want to attract into that life, lots of good things, goodness – oh goodness me.

Thanks,
But I smile Anyway’s Ritu
for choosing this most essential of words for this Tuesday edition of 2019’s edition of #JusJoJan.

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