When you’ve got nothing left, you’ve got nothing left to lose.”
This week I was reminded just how much I have to lose. That means I haven’t even come close to having nothing left.
Not everyone can say that. We here in Ontario, Canada, we experienced our own little incident with radicalism recently. He was attending a mosque just down the street from where my brother lives. They tried to help him, but unfortunately he was a very angry and disillusioned young man.
We are not immune here, in Ontario, in Canada, in North America, but that doesn’t suggest we should then turn toward hate all our own.
In a week where privileged young star athletes act poorly in Rio, when another image of war torn Syria features a small child, and where more attention is given to that athlete than to floods and fires and the suffering of children to begin with,
I search out blessings and I remember to look for the bright side of life.
That I got back to it, art I mean.
I’m glad I got back to it and hope to do more of it.
That a friend saw my picture on Facebook and offered her knowledge from her art school days.
So unbelievably cool. That’s what I love about art, what I want to put into it, even if it comes out looking nothing like how I’d imagined it would.
For an empty theater to watch a sweet movie with the perfect person for the occasion.
Touchy subject sometimes.
In spite of that, I liked this film. I hope the mother I saw this with enjoyed it as much. Motherhood, toughest job around.
For a small step in the progress of my lessons and for my violin teacher taking the time to record herself playing the two basic songs I am learning technique on.
I thought the other day about how learning the violin, for me, feels meant to be. It feels natural, or oh so close to.
It’s as if I am walking in a forest and I’ve come to a stream just a bit too wide for me to jump across. I can see the opposite side and I just need to find a bridge or even some stones to get me to the opposite bank.
The other side, where violin music comes to me, flows through me, naturally, that’s in view.
For fresh food grown in my back yard.
Of course, without the work of a couple cousins who do this sort of thing for a living, a dedicated ex boyfriend, or the gifted hand of my mother and her knowledge about all things gardening, I wouldn’t have had any of it.
It’s a nice feeling to hold a fresh cucumber in your hands and bite into it, knowing it only came from your own yard. Something rooted in the natural world so close and yet so far from myself. I owe others who care to make nature such a part of things so that I can enjoy it.
For the extra effort some are putting into me and my future.
I often feel like an extra weight or burden for others, including family, friends, and any other relationship. I guess having most kinds of relationships with me can demand certain things of people.
I hope I give back, as much as possible, in my own unique ways. I hope I bring something to each situation as it comes. I pledge to do that once more, for all who took the time out this week to help me not to give up on my future growth and progress.
This is my promise.
That I got to speak with an amazing Canadian travel writer.
For me though, it would likely be more like: dream, breathe, and then go. Take the deep breath and dive in. My dreams are waiting for me, out there somewhere.
We had a brief but helpful phone conversation where we spoke about solo travel as a woman and finding the confidence necessary to become comfortable traveling alone.
Our situations are quite different, but she has experience and knowledge and I was grateful she took a few moments out of her day to return my call and speak to me for a short time.
For another full moon.
I understand the science behind the moon, its phases, and the pull of the tides of our oceans. I think it’s rather magnificent.
I also understand how some feel those forces mess with their mood. I can see that.
For me however, a full moon is my best shot of actually seeing it up in the night sky. When it’s at its brightest and roundest I have a better chance at spotting it and I cherish that opportunity.
But yet, when I can’t find it in all that darkness I still know it’s out there somewhere. That’s my best lesson in faith, whatever your beliefs or religion might be.
For medical and surgical advancement and the ability of doctors to perform gall bladder surgery.
My mother had it done and so did my sister. It causes a lot of women especially a lot of trouble.
Now it is needed again and I am glad those in need this time around can receive the surgery and hopefully recover from here on out. Modern medicine in this part of the world saves lives and halts so much pain and suffering. We are lucky and blessed to have it so readily available to us around here.
That we here in Canada could come together for one night.
I admit that The Tragically Hip aren’t my favourite band. I am, by no means, their biggest fan. Still, it was a strange feeling of oneness last night. The Rio Olympics were preempted and the CBC instead broadcast this final concert by a Canadian iconic musical group and their singer who may not have very long left to live.
What would it be like, what would any of us say or do if we knew we had so little likely time left to live?
Hmm. I wonder.
with this final thought and the related song to go along with it.
When a bulb burns out I see
Even in the dark, it feels sunny to me
Skipping in the shadows, every corner holds beauty
There is always light if you look closely