I am glued to the news, but pushing myself to move.
It’s France, Britain, and the United States and Canada is staying as the peace maker, as always, offering to help, but not directly with war tactics.
The centre of it all is the war in Syria, that’s been going on for six or seven years now, with no real end in sight.
The name #45 has given Syria’s leader is “MONSTER”
and, if he is gassing civilians, he is just that.
I don’t know any of these “leaders” of these countries. I don’t know their hearts or their true intentions. I wish a lot of things, just me and my simple-minded self.
I wish the best for Syrian civilians, those left there, at risk, and also those who’ve come here to Canada and migrated other places. It must be so hard to see your home in such turmoil.
I wish Russia would stay out of that country, but they seem to think they’re helping. They claim any poisoning, to former spies in Britain or to people in Syria, is not them, a hoax, a lie, a distraction, a plot.
Lies. Lies. Lies. Which governments aren’t lying?
Why are all these, seemingly mostly men, doing this? They blame, shame, claim. It’s lame.
Clowns. Beasts. Monsters among men.
I want to shake them all. Where does it end?
I feel like I am living in the first season of Downton Abbey, after the no return event, assassination that began World War I in 1914.
According to Google:
The direct cause of WWI was the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand at Sarajevo on 28 June 1914. However historians feel that a number of factors contributed to the rivalry between the Great powers that allowed war on such a wide-scale to break out. Apr 20, 2016
One country erupts, or perhaps two countries clash, and, eventually, other countries get involved, take sides, and suddenly the edge of the cliff is underfoot.
In a university library, I was turning the pages of Lucy Maud Montgomery’s personal journals the other day, carefully as I could. I read her words, what living through the 1914-1918 years was like. It was horrid, even from the safety of Canada. We, sheltered from direct danger and conflict, watch with morbid fascination, but with relief and my guilt, that at least it’s not me and my loved ones in any immediate threat.
I turned to the page (November 11, 1918) and she spoke of the end of the war, after herself being glued to the news of the times. She didn’t know another world war was to come. I don’t know now.
I am rather excited about this though, speaking of monsters:
This movie, “Mary Shelley,” is a snapshot of the times, when Frankenstein was written. It’s about feminism, sexism, and in today’s Me Too moment, a girl of Shelley’s age, getting involved with Percy Shelley is a scandalous, wrong thing. Then, it was what it was.
She fought to prove she could be just as good as the men, coming up with a truly classical ghost story, as it was. So much more because science and us humans, we wonder about defeating death and the limits of science in an unknown world.
Though, I ask myself and my literary/literal mind, just who are the monsters anyway?
I may sometimes label myself a passive person, but there are moments when aggressive stances are needed.
Animals in the animal kingdom instinctively sense it, know where it lies in another creature and how or if they can derive any sort of benefit from it.
Human beings are creatures too, of habit, while the wild ones wander.
Personalities are coloured and varied shades of what makes us human, alongside the animals in nature.
I could Google the passive writing voice and read for days and days, but when I go ahead and write, may not always recognize what it looks like.
The term “passive agressive”
means one thing, when both words are put together, and another on their own. I guess this is the point, the neat thing about this phrase, if you want to call it that, about language in general as well.
Wow. I haven’t taken this Saturday blogging prompt quite so literally in a while.
I think of my fear (rational or not) of an angry swarm of bees. I think a swan, who appears docile, until you get too close.
The fight face of a country or government, put forth by a world war, by a civil one.
War and peace. Is Canada so well known for one instead of the other. Or warring tribes in Canada’s long lived past.
On another lazy Saturday, I ask myself: What is Russia really up to, with the latest election results?
I do wonder, not as much about their people, but about that government itself.
I need to take my suspicious eye off of the country next to my own and think about other places. People or entire nations, I stream of consciousness ramble my way along, all the while, hoping to avoid the inevitable, those who ooze what it means to be aggressive.
“My advice to other disabled people would be, concentrate on things your disability doesn’t prevent you doing well, and don’t regret the things it interferes with. Don’t be disabled in spirit, as well as physically,” said Stephen Hawking, renowned physicist and director of research at the Center for Theoretical Cosmology, University of Cambridge, in a May 2011 interview with The New York Times.
His knowledge of cosmology was mind-blowing to me, to me as a young girl who loved space and the planets, and now I listen to his words (still left behind) about his curiosity at what’s out there, up there, somewhere.
Stephen Hawking was, it seems to me, about three things: family, curiosity, and humour.
I’m thankful for another yoga session and I felt no lingering issues.
I felt badly about myself, a little as I was doing the stretches, but tried to give myself a break.
I really do wish I were more flexible, in ways that matter like strength and balance, but I do pay close attention to the sound of her voice as I try to follow along and not think too much.
If you know me much at all, you know that’s not so easy for me, but that’s the one hour out of my week I really try my best.
I’m thankful my part (introduction) is almost entirely complete on a paper about the value of braille.
I was thankful to have the help from a research and referencing expert, a library student, to give my writing credibility. I would never want to appear as if I were trying to take credit for words, thoughts, or ideas that weren’t my own.
I am not sure what is left to do, where this paper will end up, but I am proud I am part of it.
I’m thankful for Ireland.
I don’t use St. Patrick’s Day as an excuse to get shit faced, but I do understand the celebration of a country such as Ireland because it is an important place to me.
I’m thankful for Canada.
When all hell’s breaking loose with the current US Wh, and when governments like China and Russia seem so corrupt because their leaders seem to go unchallenged, I am grateful for the relative calm here.
I know some would argue about the actual fairness of things, even here, but I know it could be worse. Even when I find Ontario to be heading in the wrong direction, I can feel good that people can choose.
I am thankful I can speak about such things, here on my blog, without fear of being silenced.
Nobody’s attempting to assassinate me by poisoning with a powerful nerve agent. Phew.
I’m thankful for Stephen Hawking’s words (see above, to the quote at the top of this post).
I am thankful, also, for his ability to see the lighter side of life.
So, let’s just get to it, because I need some relief from the news of the day.
I am thankful for writers and thinkers such as Margaret Atwood.
I have not read The Handmaid’s Tale, as Atwood’s genre is one that covers uncomfortable truths and possibilities, through fiction and inside fictional realities. I don’t feel comfortable reading that stuff, but I do believe I am missing out.
She has had a long and esteemed writing career in Canada and we are lucky to have her intelligence and her talents.
I am thankful for those I know who travel and are out there living life, reporting back to me somehow on their journeys.
The world scares me and that is why I must see more of it, as much as I possibly can.
But, when and where I cannot, I value my friends, better than all the travel blogs I have followed on Facebook. My friends and those I’ve met, somewhere, somehow are out there and inspiring me to not feel so scared all the time.
And, if I am unable to push away my fear completely, they prove to me that it is possible to go ahead anyway. You miss less by going and doing, fear be damned.
I am thankful for Canada and my extremely privileged citizenship here.
We have our problems and we must acknowledge those. I see protests and silencing in Russia, famine and governmental corruption in Africa, and the unrest and polarization in the U.S. and I hope Canada can face our sins and remain as united and reasonable as possible.
I plan to write more about this as Canada Day, 2017 draws closer.
I am thankful for audio progress reports.
The sound of the App notification on my phone is enough to make me smile and forget my other racing thoughts for a few moments.
My friend may be over in Ireland, but I still get to hear her daughter’s growth, through trying to fill her baby’s bottle and spilling an entire jug of milk all over the floor or not understanding why she can’t fit into her doll’s clothes.
The photos my friend captions for me and then I listen to the short video clips with great interest. I look forward to them in my week.
I am thankful for more time holding my baby niece.
Speaking of growth…she is now one month old and my sister feels she is already growing too fast.
She loves to eat. I like to hold her the other times, when she is not nursing, and then my sister can do some other things.
My niece has a real angry cry, as babies do, but I hold her when she sleeps and she is so peaceful then. Hard to believe it’s the same child. You gotta love it.
I am thankful for all those who help me understand things better, things I often miss out on, those like my extremely generous friend.
My writing mentor is teaching travel writing across some of Africa and she posted a tree. I knew she wouldn’t post it for no reason. She must have seen something special in that tree. I wanted to try and see something in that photo too, in my mind.
“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.” —Angela Saini
I don’t expect the world to always modify for my needs. Photos are visual things. I get that. Sometimes I just want to imagine what one looks like.
My friend, a writer and a scientist, she heard about this and offered to describe the tree. I learned a lot.
“Splashing through the puddles. Knowing that’s how green grass grows.” —Angela Saini
I am thankful for the first real spring weather.
The other day was so mild. The sunshine was warm on my face. No more shivering.
“I don’t own a poncho. Whenever it rains I only see a rainbow.” —Angela Saini
Spring means rain. I like a good rainstorm. Bring it on.
A rainbow is one of those things, like any photo, that I long to see and never likely will. I appreciate any person’s interpretation of what a rainbow looks like.
Anyone want to give it a go? Leave your description in the comments to this post.
I am thankful for a lesson I thought was certain to be bad.
We had to miss a week. My teacher is in university and this time of year is particularly chaotic.
Any time we have this happen, like when I was in Mexico, I assume the next lesson will not go well at all because of the extra time in between.
I’ve learned this isn’t always the case. I had an extremely productive and energetic practice just before and we had a great talk about the strain and endurance of playing the violin.
Oh, I also did work on the actual practicing techniques too, trying to make it more of a constant flow of sound, rather than always so start and stopish.
Like this. Maybe…one day. Maybe.
I am thankful the U.S. dodged an extremely wrong and risky bullet.
At first I was negative about it, as it strikes a nerve because I have needed lots of medical care, so I immediately thought this was winning a battle but not the war.
Why does this need to be a fight anyway?
Then I was reminded, if I were living in the U.S and relied on the healthcare system there in a big way, I’d want just a short period of time to relax and feel relieved for this moment in time.
I am still worried, anxious for all who would be affected, but I feel helpless to do anything.
Many of us feel like people see us as such a drain on the system, but we’ve faced death or serious illness. It’s no game to us.
“My train home is three hours late. Must be time for another piece of cake – I like chocolate.” —Angela Saini
I am thankful for the positive reception and Canadian support of the newly told.
The Canadian people watched the new Anne of Green Gables series and they have spoken that they approve.
The CBC was going to air the second episode two weeks after last week’s premier, but the reception was so positive that they went ahead and aired it last night.
I am keeping an open mind, as the story makes Canada proud from what I see, so I am going to keep an episode diary on my Facebook page every time it airs.
I will call it Ahead By A Century, like the theme song for the show, by The Tragically Hip.
This song is all about seeing the silver lining, but her lyrics suggest there is always something good in everything. That’s what TToT is all about too, in a way.
Of course, I know this is a bit of an over simplification, we all know it, but really we have to at least try.
Her Headache 