red thread

 

My first ever "things on tuesday..." and, according to the gentle lightening of the sky, the birds chirping outside the window and my cats rubbing against my leg (begging me for breakfast) as I sit typing at the computer, it is clearly dawn on Wednesday.  This does not bode well for my successful participation in this group.  Hmmm.   Better late than never.  Here goes.

 

Loathe:

Only 5 weeks left to go in my summer vacation

 

Like:

First coffee of the day

Collaborative visioning session with fellow teacher

Great book on the "Last copy for $1" table at Chapters

Mid-day latte and heart-to-heart with kindred spirit

Reading new book on my front porch

Reconnecting on the phone with my 'oldest' and dearest soul friend

Unlimited summer pass to yoga studio

Being pushed to my physical limits at yoga class

The serenity of paring down life to some core essentials and letting distractions float by on the clouds

 

 

 

 

 

 

I rarely ever follow the DUIs, the marriages, break-ups and remarriages, the gazillion dollar movie deals, the stints at rehab, the reality shows loosely based on their lives or any other mundane meanderings of celebrities but I got a message from my friend early this morning because she wanted me to know that Brangelina has named one of the twins "Knox". 

 

I have nothing against this name choice, in fact, I think it is downright sensational, unique, strong, full of untapped potential, a name that cannot be consistently shortened to a nickname and the name of a person that is going somewhere in life and leaving his mark wherever he goes.........which is why I named my own son that 16 years ago! 

 

I believed that original names would help me always keep in the forefront of my mind, no matter how frazzled I became as a young mother, how amazing my sons would be.  It was like sending out that intention into the universe on their behalf.  (It worked, by the way, they both rock!)

 

(Sigh)...now, when stating his name for any reason, he'll hear "Oh, K-n-o-x, like Angelina Jolie's kid?"    But, I'm guessing that he won't really mind at all because he such a pop-culture-junkie and he'll see it as his claim to fame.   And, I guess it's no different than my other son.  I named him "Sawyer" which is the name chosen for one of Steven Speilberg's children. 

 

Ah well, live and let name....

 

 

 

 

How long do you take in the shower?
Submitted by Strive2Be.

 

 

To conserve water, my showers are limited to an absolute maximum of ten minutes.   This seems reasonable because a person uses 2 gallons of water for every minute they shower.   Water conservation makes sense since water is something that we will need for the future so why should we consume so much more than we actually need now?  Not only does it save money to use water thoughtfully but it makes us more aware and intentional about the footprint we are leaving on the earth.  I try to consider what the impact of my choices now will have on the next seven generations.  

 

 

 

 

Dear Mom,

Congratulations to you on this auspicious occasion.  Your son has walked the stage, accepted his diploma and smiled obligingly into the flash for photo after photo opportunity.  The graduation ceremony is the ritual part of the experience that marks a life passage but your personal reflection time on the significance of it all is when the flickers of memory become full length vignettes of your life with your child.  In the midst of dabbing your eyes and covering your heart, you may want to remember a few things in the years to come as your nest becomes just a little emptier and his world becomes a little larger. 

It is very possible (bordering on likely) that he will turn off his alarm clock one too many times and miss many early morning classes next year at university.  It's not fatal.  And you are off the hook, you are no longer his back up alarm.

There's a slight chance that he will let his academics slide a little to focus on the social aspect of university life.  Let him.  He deserves it.  He has worked hard and his high level of achievement in high school earned him scholarships but not at the neglect of friendships and school involvement.  He will only find a balance by exploring his boundaries.

He may not call you after he leaves home, for several reasons.  He's a situational extrovert and doesn't need to maintain daily contact with you or anyone else.  He may want to keep things from you and that's fine.  He's a new soul, an individual who deserves his privacy.  He may not want to tell you that he needs your help because he doesn't want you to worry.  He may want to solve a problem for himself.  Respect his individuality but call him occasionally to remind him that he is not only an island and that the connection between the two of you will always exist.  

He will surely not remember everything you've taught him in the seventeen years you've lived together.  But, in the face of challenges, he will fall back on the love, the trust and respect you've given him through the years.  And he'll learn who he is in the process. 

And, if he needs extensive psychotherapy to undo all the dysfunctional knots in his psyche, it's not completely your fault.  He will find his way, he will eventually forgive you for your incessant nagging and almost two decades of worrying that every scraped knee meant scars and irreparable damage.  Nothing is irreparable. 

Finally, Mom, let him see that you are going miss him.  Don't hide the tears.  Life is too short.  He needs to know that you will miss him terribly.  He knows full well that you have a life beyond him, he knows that your success is not tied to his and that you have your own personal plans to make a difference in the world.  That's why he'll do just fine.

You did good, Mom.  And he will, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My two sons and their friend, another favourite student of mine. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last weekend, a group of fabulous women, gratefully that included yours truly, spent a glorious weekend away at a cottage together.  The weather was superb.   Warm sun every day and heart pounding rain every night.   The laughter, the dancing and the references to "saving the scrapbooking for when we are dead" were endless.   I love my friends!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If I were a scientist, I would sooooo be studying this!

 

The Art Of Napping

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"If you have suffered any inconvenience, be it geographical or financial, to be here tonight, I am sorry. But I am very grateful that you have come".

 

And so began my very moving and almost mystical evening with Leonard Cohen.  The man who has been a poet, songwriter, author, singer and monk strolled out onto the stage in an impeccably neat, dark suit and a wickedly cool fedora to a spontaneous, opening ovation that seemed to last for endless moments of thunderous eternity.  In response, he simply removed his hat, placed it on his heart and bowed silently, graciously, deeply to us and for a very long time.  It was clear that this was not to be an ordinary concert, an evening of mere live entertainment or a fabulous show put on by an amazing performer.  Instead, Cohen clearly had an aura of inner peace surrounding him so I felt as if I was truly in the presence of a spiritual master.  And, in that moment of recognition and the ensuing vulnerability, the tears started.  

 

In his booming bass voice, ripened by age and now as rich as the darkest of chocolate, he welcomed us, recognizing the sacrifices some of us made to spend the evening with him.  Then for the next three hours, save a short break, he shared the wisdom of more than seventy trips around the sun through his poetry and songs.  And, even though, his friends are gone and his hair is gray and he aches in the places that he used to play, Cohen expressed himself with an energy that belied his senior citizen status.  What started out as a quiet, gravel-voiced prayer, "Hallelujah" unfolded and crescendo-ed to the powerful vocal recognition that love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.  We were on our feet, en masse, before he finished the last word.

 

Surrounded by phenomenal back-up singers and musicians, Cohen was constantly tipping his hat to them, bowing to them in gratitude, reminding us of who they were and how they significantly contributed to the evening.  Despite his attempts, Cohen couldn't truly share the centre stage as someone who was admittedly born like this, I had no choice, I was born with the gift of the golden voice.    

 

But it was all him.  The sensual, old poet caressed the words of his songs, gently at first then more insistently, like a seasoned lover who is ever in tune with the rhythm of his beloved.  He whispered to us of longing and sang of dark passions, past, present and eternal.  He reminded us of those feverish times that the moon's too bright, the chain's too tight, the beast won't go to sleep.  And his spoken word version of "A Thousand Kisses Deep" was as close to riding the razor's edge between the sacred and profane as I have ever been. 

 

He tried many times to leave the stage but we selfishly kept asking him to return and he did several times with a gracious bow and more songs.  But finally it was time for him to say, I bid you farewell, I don't know when I'll be back, They're moving us tomorrow to that tower down the track,  But you'll be hearing from me baby, long after I'm gone, I'll be singing to you sweetly, from the Tower of Song. 

 

As he stood arm-in-arm with his musicians and singers, he wished us well and in a sweet, paternal tone hoped that we would travel safely home and that we wouldn't get a summer cold.  He then left the stage that night as an old man who truly has tried, in his way, to be free.   

  

 

   

 

 

 

Show us your favorite YouTube video.

 

This guy is an acquired taste.  Cracks me up, though.

 

Show us your favorite YouTube video.

 

Who was the meanest teacher you had in school?

 

My grade 11 Physics Teacher was so mean that I've completely forgotten his name, blocked out by the trauma of sitting under his tutelage, no doubt.  Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it!  He would start each class by giving some very vague instructions to the room full of 16-year-old hormones and then go into his back room and have a smoke while most of us looked at each other blankly or tried to see what the brainiacs were doing.  He'd come back reeking of tobacco and wagging his yellowed finger at us while calling us all stupid for not having figured out how to solve the problem.  I'm assuming he knew a thing or two about Physics but he had the emotional intelligence of rotten fruit.