Walking away is not an option... dialogue must prevail.

"A good listener tries to understand what the other person is saying. In the end he may disagree sharply, but because he disagrees, he wants to know exactly what it is he is disagreeing with."
- Kenneth A. Wells

"I do not want the peace that passeth understanding. I want the understanding which bringeth peace."
- Helen Keller

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Days like this...

It's a beautiful Sunday morning, filled with sunshine and little green things struggling for their share of the sun. I look out the window in the family room and see lovely little yellow flowers blooming.
Today is a lovely day to spend time with Dad and Chicklet I'd say.

I had a rough week at work, but I pushed through it... and now I have a few more days to go before I can get some much needed one-on-one time with my honey.

I had so many projects in my head for this weekend, but the stress of the week caught up with me and my body told me to chill. So I read and just did the basics.

I've stepped away from the electronic world quite a bit lately, but it was, and in some measure still is, needed. I haven't been sleeping very well lately, too many things are running around in my head. I have to figure out a plan to deal with the legacy left by someone I should never have trusted.

I may need help with this, but I have faith that somehow I'll make it work.

“"It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily.
"So it is."
"And freezing."
"Is it?"
"Yes," said Eeyore.
"However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately.”
-- A. A. Milne

Thursday, April 17, 2008

I just don't know...

... can anything associated with technology be real? I miss meeting people in person, but I'm glad I can interact with people everywhere through my computer... I just think things are far too heavily weighed towards the world out there at the moment.

I'll be around, but I have to prioritize what's tangible.

If it keeps up, man will atrophy all his limbs but the push-button finger.
~Frank Lloyd Wright

This is perhaps the most beautiful time in human history; it is really pregnant with all kinds of creative possibilities made possible by science and technology which now constitute the slave of man - if man is not enslaved by it.
~Jonas Salk

Friday, April 11, 2008

it's time

I'm letting go...

I once felt a wave
lapping at my feet.
The water tickling me softly,
a warm comforting wave.

The water is calm now,
still and impenetrable.
But I need warmth,
and comfort.

"The tender friendships one gives up, on parting, leave their bite on the heart, but also a curious feeling of a treasure somewhere buried. "
~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Southern Mail, 1929, translated from French by Curtis Cate

Monday, April 7, 2008

please don't let it be

I've been reliving some very difficult times.

My friend is in pain. She's sad, heart-broken and I know where she is right now. It's not a good place.

When I lived through this, when my marriage was shattered to bits, I did it alone. I had my mom to help with my 3 year old ray of sunshine, and the housework... but I had no confidant.

For a long time, I was numb.

I cried...

I mourned...

I went into a period of denial that basically lasted years.

It was a long road back to myself.

I'm free now, from the pain.

I let love back in.

'If you said good-bye to me tonight,
There would still be music left to write.'

-- Billy Joel "The Longest Time"

Saturday, April 5, 2008

this little light...

Tonight, my daughter "The Chicklet" (my sunshine) will be performing in a show her theater teacher has put on. This will not be her first foray on stage, but she's excited nonetheless and so am I.

She's doing a skit and they also have a song and dance number to The Beatles "Here Comes The Sun"... after the snow that fell yesterday it would be nice if the sun actually did finally make it to our little patch of earth.

When I visited my friend Doc and read his post about Martin Luther King and the memories he shared with us, I was reminded of my youth. A time when I too took to the stage to perform.

I grew up in a white neighbourhood, went to a white school and had very little direct contact with people of other ethnic backgrounds (except the Greek side of the family which doesn't really count as "other" and Mrs Lee at the Chinese restaurant). In our school, the "ethnic" kids were the handful of kids that came from the neighbouring Mohawk reservation.

Then one day, I met Mr. Charles Griffith.

My parents enrolled me in tap lessons you see (Mom even took some too), and Mr Griffith owned the school. I can't put my finger on how old I was when I started ( I may have been 5), but I remember meeting him and shaking his hand. He had, what seemed to me like a very large hand.

Mr. Griffith was a black man.

I observed him with great curiosity, looked at the palms of his hands, took notice of the texture of his hair and decided he had the best smile I'd ever seen. He was a genuinely nice man who was welcoming and exhuded warmth... I wondered about his skin tone as I observed and focused on his hands. I studied the differences between the colour of his palms, the creases in them, the tops of his hands, under his fingernails... I wondered what caused the difference. Was it like what happened to my skin in the summer time? My fascination lasted a few short minutes, which can seem like a long time, and is for a child so young. And then, I forgot about it. I figured it was like having different hair colour and then I started wondering when I'd get the tap shoes that made a lot of noise and never looked back.

My father taught me about tolerance. He believed in treating people with respect. What was important to him was whether or not someone was honest and hard working.

He was the son of immigrants to Canada... an Irish woman and a Greek man... who came thousands of miles from their respective countries with their very different languages and cultures.. met and fell in love.

My Papou and Grandma Mary raised a family together... five wonderful children. They instilled in their children a strong work ethic, a sense of civil duty and community. And an appreciation for tolerance and acceptance of others' differences.

My father and his brothers and sisters shared those values with us, the next generation... and the cycle continues.

It can be done, we can all get along... but we have to want to. Let the sun shine in babies...

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...

Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right

It's all right

-- George Harrison

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

"There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want." (Calvin and Hobbes)

I’m trying to figure out what the summer will be like for Chicklet this year. As a single mom, it’s a challenge keeping her busy, supervised and safe.

Before entering kindergarten, she’d spend her weekdays in daycare. When she started school, we found some activities for her, and Mom covered the rest. Chicklet spent a good deal of time with my mother and she used to love running errands with her (which almost always included visiting the dollar store at the mall).

Finding ways to keep kids busy wasn’t a problem when I was a kid. I’d run out the door in the morning to go play and I’d come home for lunch… which usually consisted of a bowl of soup and a sandwich while sitting in front of the TV watching The Flintstones.

After lunch, I’d run back out and play until it was time for dinner. Afterwards, I’d go back out again and the signal to come home was when the street lights came on…

We lived outside hunting butterflies, making believe we were princesses, playing in the park and competing to see who could swing the highest and jump off the swing and land the furthest…

Now, I’m looking into sleep-away camps and day camps…

I had a great time going to sleep-away camp… shooting arrows… canoeing… swimming… poison ivy… wait, no… that was Joe Spivy. The camp I went to as a kid is still running… hmmmmm

'Being a child at home alone in the summer is a high-risk occupation. If you call your mother at work thirteen times an hour, she can hurt you.'
--Erma Bombeck