1000 Voices Speak For Compassion, IN THE NEWS AND ON MY MIND, Special Occasions, TToT

TToT: Chameleon in a Room Full of Mirrors – Part Two, #10Thankful

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

– Mary Oliver, Wild Geese

Ten Things of Thankful

I am thankful my brother and his family got to get away for a week together.

Winters can be long. Sun and sea and family time, no cooking or cleaning or work or school. Who wouldn’t like that?

I am thankful for my chameleon eyes.

I can’t see what colour my own eyes are in the mirror, but even when I had more sight, much more sight than I now have, I still couldn’t see the colour of my own eyes.

Well, every time I’ve ever asked, I’ve gotten varied and differing answers. I didn’t know whom to believe.

I got a new artificial eye made the day before Valentine’s Day and it was done within six hours. Not bad.

No, it’s not made of glass. I will answer all the most common questions, in a piece I’m going to write about the experience, once I get through some of the work I’ve currently got on the go this month.

I am glad the new one is in and I was told when the colour is bluish one day, green another, and hazel or whatever, with flecks of something thrown in there somewhere for whatever reason, that is what is known as the chameleon eye, changing colour, depending on the time asked and the light seen in. I thought it was so funny that I’d heard a saying about a chameleon in a room full of mirrors, which could mean any number of things, that I used that as the title for last week’s TToT and then I find out my eyes are chameleon coloured this week.

Thus…part two.

I am thankful for a single girl’s lunch to celebrate all the different kinds of love that matter.

Fancy old mansion and multiple forks and spoons at every place setting.

Truth is that I don’t know a lot about fancy food and don’t think it all that better, overall, but this was a nice way to spend February 14th, to enjoy a nice meal with a friend, celebrating the benefits of being single, especially on a day when all you hear about is romantic love.

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I am thankful for a local, city library card.

I have lived in the town for ten years and am just now getting a library card. So many books that I feel held back from, many print, though there are more and more ways around that for someone who can’t see to read.

I do think the library is a fantastic public resource that everyone deserves to share in.

More on this another week.

I am thankful for positive feedback on a job I’ve got this month.

I was told, at least, I am on the right track which is always nice to hear and know. I will know more by next month.

I am thankful a yoga session could be squeezed into my day.

So busy lately. I can tell, by how quickly I am rushing through even this week’s thankful list that yoga is very much needed in my life.

I had no meeting. She was stuck on Montreal’s public transit. Still, a lesson worked out and I needed that for my sanity.

I am thankful for remittances.

Still learning about such terms of getting paid for work completed. I’m glad it means what it actually means. I admit, the word didn’t sound so good upon first hearing it. I am happy to know its meaning now.

I am thankful for my arms that learn a new thing (dynamics) on the violin.

I guess this is progress. I was sore after, in my upper back and shoulders, as I must have tensed up in learning such techniques. It involves ways of moving the bow, angles, pressure, and a whole lot more to make the music sound quiet or medium or loud, still learning proper names for each level of volume throughout a song.

More to come on this too, also, in the weeks ahead I’d guess.

I am thankful for the nostalgia of a romantic comedy from the 90s.

I wanted to see a movie from my past, about Paris, about forgetting Paris, about basketball refereeing even and I am no sports fan by any means.

It’s an old one of Billy Crystal and one that didn’t receive enough praise, if you ask me.

I am thankful I managed an ending to the short story I wrote last week.

I wrote it, at writing group, on my oma’s birthday. She would have been 97 this year. It’s fiction, based on the girl she might have been, with a few pieces of the girl she told me stories about.

I wrote most of it, but then my braille display died. So, I now have the ending written and I look forward to reading it at the next writing group’s gathering coming up.

Tired and pondering love/hate/indifference lately.

“A man, to be greatly good, must imagine intensely and comprehensively; he must put himself in the place of another and many others; the pains and pleasures of his species must become his own. The great instrument of moral good is the imagination.”

—Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Guest Blogs and Featured Spotlights, Song Lyric Sunday

Fickle Flames, #SongLyricSunday

“A golden bird that flies away. A candle’s fickle flame. To think I held you yesterday. Our love was just a game.”

—Cake

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You call and you call and you get no answer:

I love this one. The dial tone is the first sound you hear, then the trumpets and the noise makers and, finally, video game sounds.

HEY!

***

I need your arms around me,
I need to feel your touch,
I need your understanding, I need your love,
So much,

You tell me that you love me so,
You tell me that you care,
But when I need you, (BABY)
Baby, (You’re never there),

On the phone,
Long long distance,
Always through such,
Strong resistance,
When first you say,
You’re too busy,
I wonder if you,
Even miss me,

Never there,
You’re never there,
You’re never, ever,
Ever ever there,

A golden bird that flies away,
A candle’s fickle flame,
To think I held you yesterday,
Your love was just a game,

A golden bird that flies away,
A candle’s fickle flame,
To think I held you yesterday,
Your love was just a game,

You tell me that you love me so,
You tell me that you care,
But when I need you, (BABY)
Baby,

Take the time,
To get to know me,
If you want me,
Why can’t you just show me,

We’re always on,
This roller coaster,
If you want me,
Why can’t you get closer,

Never there,
You’re never there,
You’re never, ever,
Ever ever there,

Never there,
You’re never there,
You’re never, ever,
Ever ever there

LYRICS

***

Rather needy, these lyrics, by whomever sings this. Still, it calls to mind that thing where we expect instant responses. It was always, as long as the phone has been around, the story of infatuation and desperation in “love”.

This whole
Song Lyric Sunday
thing just got a lot easier.

I got myself Apple Music for my birthday and now I have 33 million songs at my disposal, a treasure trove of music at my fingertips to choose from.

It’s both delightful and glorious.

Technology, frustrating at times, but so handy and convenient in this case.

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1000 Voices Speak For Compassion, Bucket List, History, The Insightful Wanderer, Travel, TToT

TToT: Mother Nature and Cloud Iridescence, #10Thankful

It was a diamond winter day in February — clear, cold, hard, brilliant. The sharp blue sky shone, the white fields and hills glittered, the fringe of icicles around the eaves…sparkled. Keen was the frost and crisp the snow over our world; and we young fry…were all agog to enjoy life. 

—THE STORY GIRL
🎨 Peder Mørk Mønsted

New month, new slate. Here we go.

Ten Things of Thankful

I’m thankful for a nice dinner out with my sister and my brothers.

We went, to celebrate February’s arrival, my upcoming birthday, and my brother-in-law’s birthday in a few weeks.

A few drinks and a free celebration dessert made it a lovely evening. I could relax, finally, for a few hours at least.

I’m thankful when my niece hands me a banana.

It was a plastic toy, but still. The gesture shows she is growing up, soon to be taking her first steps.

I’m thankful when my friend the travel agent helps me figure out some pricing for a trip to BC.

It is for the Canadian Federation of the Blind’s annual spring convention.

At least three of us are going. We will make sure to get in some travel/tourism stuff in there as well.

I am determined to stand by the ocean.

Also, to meet people in person, who I’ve spoken to by phone for months, it will be nice to make their acquaintances, and I hope to speak in front of the entire convention on my project to put descriptive audio services in movie theatres.

I’m thankful for a visit with my neighbour and my brother.

My brother got a ride back here, planning to jam with his band friends in my basement that night. So, I’d previously made a plan to visit with my neighbour in the afternoon and so the three of us had a nice talk.

I’m thankful my neighbour cared to give me some tea to help me sleep with my cold.

She said she could give me apple cider vinegar to gurgle, which she swears takes care of a sore throat for her within hours/a day or two. She said it may taste bad, but it works. Luckily, for me, my throat issues were behind me. Sure, I barely had a voice, but the soreness was gone. It was a stuffy head and I don’t sleep well at the best of times.

She is taking care of me, however she can.

I’m thankful my cold cleared up like it did, when it did, and I hope it stays away for a few weeks at least.

I have an appointment next week to get a new artificial eye made. It requires an entire day of fitting and resizing and taking my current artificial eye in and out, in and out. Not my favourite thing.

With a cold, tearing up constantly, it wouldn’t make the experience any easier.

I’m thankful for my sister’s help with time card/invoice spread sheets/graphs.

To request payment for the contract work I am doing, writing an introduction for a paper on braille, I must fill out a chart thing.

My computer’s voiceover program does read graphs, but I tend to try too hard to visualize them and have to work with what I hear.

I am practicing with my braille display to get a better idea, but just hearing numbers and columns is confusing.

My sister deals with these things, all the time, for her tax business work. She helps me get paid and I am grateful.

I’m thankful my niece is still small enough to fall asleep on my shoulder.

My sister was at the store and my niece had worn herself out, crawling round and around my house, going for mops, crawling behind the couch, and getting into trouble of all kinds.

Eventually though, she started to whimper, for her mother I’d imagined. I picked her up and paced with her in my arms, listening to music and singing gently. Soon she was asleep on my shoulder.

I tried to sit down gently in the chair, trying hard not to wake her, and the position I ended up in was not so good for my neck.

I tried to shift, but she was in a position in my lap and I didn’t want to disturb her. It was totally worth it.

I used to do this with my niece and nephews in the past few years. This may be my last chance, for a long while, to hold a sleeping baby. That saddened me and I held her all the closer for it.

I am thankful for what Britain did to fight off Hitler in World War II.

I went to see The Darkest Hour and I was moved, in many different ways. Churchill’s oratory skill was brilliant and his determination to protect England was challenged at every step, until he was honest and got feedback from the British people. He had little help from the United States at that time, May of 1940. Still, he was honest about the fact that they were on their own and there was no option but to fight to the end.

My feelings on peace vs war, it’s complicated, but I try to understand how things were/are, when making a judgment call on what should/must be done.

If Hitler had conquered the island nation of Great Britain, he could have and likely would’ve moved on to England’s child of sorts, Canada.

I’m thankful it’s February.

I am fickle with my feelings on turning thirty-four on Saturday. It depends on the day or the moment I think about it.

Still, January wasn’t the best of months. Though February also means my niece’s first birthday and her growing up, I am still looking forward to celebrate. The cake my sister has ordered from my cousin, the cake maker, sounds pretty cool.

Spectacular moment “rare rainbow cloud” appears in skies above Brazilian tourist spot – THE SUN

Hello February. You’ve arrived, Finally!

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Blogging, Guest Blogs and Featured Spotlights, Memoir Monday, The Redefining Disability Awareness Challenge

Sigh – And The Search Continues, #JusJoJan

I say I crave it, but it’s hard to obtain it.

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I can’t seem to
find the silence
in all that goes on.

the buzzing inside my own head. I think too much, about too many unanswerable questions.

I can’t stand the silence sometimes, seconds ticking by. I always have something going, playing, to occupy my thoughts, though they run on and on anyway. When I go to sleep I always have music on in the background or Netflix on my phone. I listen until sleep overtakes me.

I live with sound in the daylight hours too. My computer and my phone have voice software to read my emails and text messages. I have separate sounding notification beeps to alert me to what comes through my phone. I am constantly listening for those.

I listen to the birds and the sirens and other vehicles, just outside my window. I listen for my dog to inevitably bark at something and I listen for a sign that my cat is nearby. He doesn’t meow as much as he chirps you see.

I listen for a knock at my door because my doorbell hasn’t been functional in years.

I listen because I can barely see.

I wrote about
darkness
a few days ago, for Just Jot It January.

I feel blown away that someone’s worst fear would be to lose their sight, but I know the feeling. I also know that the thought of losing my ability to hear is simply unthinkable to me.

Just Jot It January, #JusJoJan

And the search for silent moments, for peace and quiet, all while thankful I have the ability to hear the sound if I choose, it continues.

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Silenced, #TheCranberries #JusJoJan

The folded up newspaper sits on my coffee table, containing words about another, taken too soon.

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I can’t see to read it and wonder why I bother to keep the paper anyway.

Just Jot It January, #JusJoJan

This is not an official tribute…or is it?

Just how much do I want/need/have to say about a woman I’d never met before anyway?

I am rocked by the news, left meandering through
contemplation
of my own life and what it’s meant to be.

All her lyrics are on repeat in my head. They invite just this sort of examination.

I keep trying to grow, as I write, and to try a bunch of different things with it all. Some things are bound to catch on, while others might not. I have to trust in that process, to thrive in its randomness, but I won’t lessen the effort I put forth.

I have plans in my head, shifting daily perhaps, and then an unforeseen tragedy happens. A woman, middle aged dies suddenly, leaving behind teenage children in the world.

A man is celebrated every January who also was taken much too soon, in evil and ugliness, leaving the lives of especially his children forever changed.

I am lucky to have all I have, to have love and family and a safe place to be. I listen to lots of music, not just The Cranberries, to keep forging on.

I listen to Another Day In Paradise by Phil Collins and I feel the same as I’ve always felt when listening to that set of lyrics. I may feel better that I am feeling for the homeless woman in the song, but really I don’t know what kind of a person that really makes me in the end.

I see those on the street, just as the blind were often seen as beggars on the street, and I want to feed and house everyone. There is a shame and a stigma about it all.

I contemplate and then I hear Dolores’s words in my head: “Don’t analyze. Don’t analyze. Don’t go that way. Don’t live that way. That would paralyze your evolution.”

And oh the lump in my throat returns and I go back to the revolving thoughts in my head and I know I’ll always mourn her voice silenced far too soon.

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1000 Voices Speak For Compassion, Blogging, Guest Blogs and Featured Spotlights, History, IN THE NEWS AND ON MY MIND, Kerry's Causes, Shows and Events, Special Occasions

A Stranger Returning Home, #MLKDay #JamesBaldwin #JusJoJan

Just. Juice. Prejudice.

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These are three things that come to mind when I think of the word
“justice”
because they look similar in my mind, not because they have anything really to do with the word itself.

Just Jot It January, #JusJoJan

Okay, well, maybe justice and prejudice are related, but really I say this now because I am delaying the moment when I have to write about serious things.

Today hasn’t shaped up the way I was expecting it would. I was trying to figure out how to write something about Martin Luther King Jr. and then Dolores O’Riordan died.

Well, that’s not really a topic of justice. It only adds to my blue mood on Blue Monday as it stands.

I relate to the fight for racial justice, in that I can take my disability and think how discrimination manifests. Still, the subject is a sensitive one, as it should be.

It’s like the reconciliation discussion I learn about, with Indigenous Peoples, daily, here in Canada and in other places, all over the world. I am just sad, sad we haven’t come far enough and in some cases, have slid backwards with time.

This is the type of writing that evolves and changes throughout a day. I started this (mid month Monday) thinking about how to address MLK Day.

I’ve spent most of today lamenting the death of a one-of-a-kind voice in music, and I’m ending it by watching a documentary I have known about for months about writer James Baldwin, being shown on PBS.

I haven’t read his stuff and I know very little about him to be honest. I do know that these issues of rights, of where privilege lies, and on how to fight oppression and for justice, are bound to be found throughout Baldwin’s doc, in his own words, years before I was born.

He watched the young girl try to attend school and be spit on, chiding himself for not being there to help her.

Disgust and anger. How to move past this and into making it all better?

Baldwin didn’t miss America while he was in Paris. He didn’t miss it, but he did miss his family and his culture.

MLK knew he wasn’t likely to live long to see any sort of change.

It is painful for James to return, though he is home again.

James Baldwin said: The line between a witness and an actor is a fine one.

This feels so intensely true right now.

So poignant all these years later.

All about class and culture and race and so many other classifications I cannot seem to parse.

James did not stay, as witness. He was free “to write the story and get it out.”

He saw Martin and Malcolm X both go and he wrote about it.

Malcolm, Martin, martyrs both. Baldwin was the writer.

He writes: I Am Not Your Negro

How to reconcile any of this?

And so goes the clicking of the typewriter’s keys.

If you get the chance, watch I Am Not Your Negro.

Things sure have changed, since last century, but we writers still will write.

The story of America,” Baldwin said, “is not a pretty story.” “Aimless hostility.”

“This is not the land of the free.”

—James Baldwin

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1000 Voices Speak For Compassion, Guest Blogs and Featured Spotlights, IN THE NEWS AND ON MY MIND, Kerry's Causes, Memoir and Reflections, Song Lyric Sunday, Spotlight Sunday, The Insightful Wanderer

On Holding On and On Letting Go, #SongLyricSunday

I listen to music to help fight off the madness.

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I never mean it to sound like I diminish the experiences of mental illness and other conditions and concerns, but the madness threatens us all, in one way or another.

Song Lyric Sunday

I didn’t realize, until these last few years, just how it might feel. I can at least glimpse the feeling, the state of being, or however I’m likely misspeaking on its reality.

Still, I try to decide, to help fight these feelings inside of me and from world events and at the state of things, if I can trust the holding onto of others or if that’s only a temporary life raft.

It feels a little like Jack and Rose, in Titanic (which was released nearly ten years before I ever heard this song I believe. The young lovers only have each other to hold onto and the ship’s going down, no matter what they do.

***

Michael Jackson (Feat. Carlos Santana)

He gives another smile, tries to understand her side
To show that he cares
She can’t stay in the room
She’s consumed with everything that’s been goin’ on
She says
Whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand

Everything will be alright, he assures her
But she doesn’t hear a word that he say
Preoccupied, she’s afraid
Afraid what they’ve been doing’s not right
He doesn’t know what to say, so he prays
Whatever, whatever, whatever

Whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand
Whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand
Whatever happens, don’t you let go of my hand
Don’t let go of my hand
Don’t let go of my hand

He’s working day and night, thinks he’ll make her happy
Forgetting all the dreams that he had
He doesn’t realize it’s not the end of the world
It doesn’t have to be that bad
She tried to explain, “It’s you that makes me happy,”
Whatever, whatever, whatever

Whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand
See, whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand
Whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand
See, whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand
See, whatever happens, don’t you let go of my hand
See, don’t you do it baby
I said yeah
Don’t you let go baby
See, you
Don’t you do it
Whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand
Whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand
Whatever happens, don’t you let go of my hand
Don’t you let go baby
Don’t you, don’t you let go
I said yeah
Can I get how it feels baby
Don’t you let go baby
Yeah
Oh

Whatever happens, just don’t let go of, my hand.

LYRICS

***

This song played, on repeat, on my new tiny, red iPod ten years or so ago it was now. I found it and could not let go, never getting enough of its sound, and it feels like it illustrates a world gone mad.

I can feel the urgency, desperation, and intensity in every note. Utter madness.

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