Step Softly

The Zen master Ling Chi said that the miracle is not to walk on burning charcoal or in the thin air or on the water; the miracle is just to walk on earth. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

I have been taking Tai Chi on Monday nights. It is often referred to as “walking meditation” because you really cannot multi-task and do Tai Chi, at least not in these early stages. I have found it very interesting and tonight I learned the first move that I really struggled to do because of my leg and foot issues. Tai Chi is supposed to help with balance among other things. I am hoping that with practice, I will become stronger and be able to do the moves that involve standing on one leg. Stepping softly has been a challenge for me as well but not quite like this particular move whose name I have forgotten.

I am a great multi-tasker but I am realizing more and more that I am not as successful as I used to be. Distractions throw me off the rails and I tend to not be as effective. Maybe this is just nature’s way of saying pay more attention to what you are doing in the moment.

I love the fact that for one complete hour, I live in the moment. I concentrate on the moves and my mind is totally free of anything that might be trying to call my name. Very few things in my life do that. I have an over-active mind. Interpreting is another activity that requires that intensity of presence. I love it when a book, film, or play can grab me and hold me in that way. I think Thich Nhat Hanh got it right—he is really a beautiful poet/writer—because the miracle of walking on earth is something else that sometimes captivates me so much that I can hardly breathe.

peace,

Suzanne

Rock On, Man!

Blessed are they who mourn: for they shall be comforted. ~ Matthew 5:4

If you have been following my blog, you know that I have had a couple of deaths this week. Tonight I am supposed to be at my interfaith group but the celebration of my sister-in-law’s sister went until 7:00 and I decided to just come home. The Facebook RIP page has a slew of messages coming in, with people praising both Lynn and the good send off.

If I had gone to my interfaith group, the topic was going to be something I had proposed: faith heroes. I wanted to learn from my Christian, Muslim, and Jewish friends who spoke to them about their spiritual journey. Instead, tonight, I listened to people talk about a woman who was their hero. Lynn inspired people to choose life instead of death. Several of the kids from the streets attributed Lynn’s non-judgmental support to saving their lives. This Winnipeg Street Angel was honoured well. May those who loved her find comfort in the memories that they have.

peace,

Suzanne

Stake My Life on This One

When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves. ~Victor Frankl

I have a confession to make: I am a huge fan of the TV series, The Vampire Diaries. Yes, shocking news I am sure to some of you. I am not even going to try to defend it or myself. You can judge me as you wish.

Watching it one night, something clicked within me. I wondered why Elena’s brother wanted so much to be a vampire. What was wrong with who he was? Why did he want to turn? My karaoke brain bounced the thought around until I was asking myself why people want to turn other people into things they are not: Christians, straight, married, skinny…get my drift? What is wrong with the way we come? Today I read a horrible article from Amnesty, I think, about corrective rapes going on in South Africa where men rape lesbians for hours to cure them. Incredible!!! Makes me crazy to even think about it.

I have friends who are all kinds of things. I just try to love them where they are. Sometimes, when they don’t make healthy or sane choices, I might try to intervene but for the most part, I hope I don’t try to turn any of them into anything they don’t want to be.

Who says I have it right, anyway? Maybe I don’t. I could be the one who will turn one day because I was challenged to change myself when my situation was not working for me. Speaking of changing, I am going out on a limb tonight and going by myself to a scary-to-me-event in the Exchange District. Some friends are playing some music and it is a fundraiser for an organization I belong to. I am hoping to meet up with some folks there but am not depending on them showing up. Be brave and change my situation. Here I go!!! Wish me well.

Peace,

Suzanne

Go Fly A Kite!

Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, or a new country. ~ Anais Nin

Today two students from a rural high school made their way through the crazy snowy weather to arrive at my work for a tour and an opportunity to look at a career as an interpreter. I was pretty darn nervous when they did not arrive by 10:00 and I had not heard from them. They called 15 minutes later to say that they were close and would be there soon. Whew!!

The one student had a Deaf cousin and wanted to explore becoming an interpreter. The other was a “tag along”. I had prepared a day of classroom observations, meetings with a recent graduate of the interpreter training program and a veteran teacher, and a tour of the Deaf School. By the end of the day, the tag along was inspired and was thinking that she might take an ASL course in the summer.

This made me think about what happens when we tag along or open ourselves to opportunities that we might not choose to do willingly. In fact, as I write this it is International Date Night and I must admit that I do not really know how to date. I mean, I have been on dates. I hate them for the most part. Once you get to know the person and are in a relationship I like dating better but I hate that awkward, “Do I like him? Does he like me?” UGH!! I mean, really, I have better things to do most evenings.

Having said that, I did admit to a few friends that I would like to date more this year. In a recent long distance phone call, a friend challenged me on how I was going to go about doing that. I have no clue. She suggested that I try online dating services. I have too many hesitations despite having a few good friends having success with it. I am open to meeting someone through friends though. However, most of my friends say they don’t have anyone that would be a match.

I have no romantic fantasies about bumping into George Clooney at Safeway and him falling madly, deeply, and passionately in love with me. Well, ok, truth be told, before I left for Africa, I secretly hoped that he might see me at work and be swept off his feet by my compassion and brilliance. Just my luck that he meets the love of his life just before I leave!

I have good friends who keep me grounded in reality. This summer in Ottawa I had a conversation with friends who made me rethink many things about men and the dating scene. They are not experts but their perspective was so different that I did have to examine mine. If I want something serious, I have to get more serious about it. I have traveled several provinces to meet someone who was a blind date. I have been surprised at times and ended up in a relationship with someone I did not expect to meet. I am open but I am not sure how to increase the pool of people I know.

This week Sympatico had on its webpage Tips for the Dating Scene or something equally as obnoxious. In keeping with getting serious about dating, I went through the slide show. I kind of chuckled at a few and gagged at a couple but keeping in mind what my friends said, I tried to be open to some of the suggestions. Who knows? I may end up dating again and actually liking it. Wouldn’t that be a novel activity? I’ll throw my kite in the air and see what I get.

Peace,

Suzanne

Street Angel

Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth. ~ Mohammad Ali

The radio announcer this morning was saying how the Internet is the place for the most made up quotes. This is my disclaimer. I can only attribute my quotes to what the Internet says when I borrow them from there as a source. Sorry!!

Most of you know my affinity to angels. My sister-in-law’s sister Lynn was known as Winnipeg’s Street Angel. Tonight on CBC’s evening news, they ran the story about her that they had made in 2009. Here is the link if you have about six minutes to watch it:

http://www.cbc.ca/thenational/blog/2011/01/winnipeg-loses-its-street-angel.html

Is your room paid for yet?

Peace,

Suzanne

Dream as Big as You Can

Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength. ~ Unknown

I am writing this late in the evening but I wanted to sit down and empty my head. This day has been incredibly long, even if it was a day off. I started with a physio appointment where my therapist was thrilled at how well I am doing. The journey of my back and leg pain is never ending but I have never given up on believing that I can be better than I am. Today was a reminder that I continue to make improvements.

From there I went to visit my parents and talked a little about my uncle and where they were at with his death. After that I ran a bunch of errands before ending up at my sister-in-laws sister’s place to drop off some supper and flowers and talk about the death of their sister. I managed to spend a few minutes with my brother and his wife as they were arriving just as I was leaving. I can definitely feel the pain of this family as they mourn the death of their sister. The above quote made me think of her as she had a challenging life. Click on a story about her at this link http://winnipegwomen.net/features/108-beautiful-women-2009-p3 and read about a woman who did not give up on herself or the young people with whom she worked.

I zipped home to change before heading off to convocation at Red River College for the first Deaf Studies Program for Educational Assistants. It is a program that I helped to establish and never stopped believing that it was a worthwhile program. I am so proud of these women who were our guinea pigs in attempting to train urban and rural signers who already worked in the educational setting. The program was grueling but twelve of them completed the course successfully with three more to finish it in the next term. Each of them could have given up at several junctures but that was too easy for them. They held it together when they drove back to their home communities late at night, half asleep and got up the next day and went back to work. They gave up time with their husbands and children. They sacrificed a summer off and took a six-credit university course in the evening. They did not limit themselves with thinking “at my age, I never thought I would go to College” because they did go to College. They struggled at learning the language and culture. These are strong women of whom I am exceptionally proud. Not only did they complete the program, the majority of them finished with honours and many of them want to continue on with their studies. God bless them!!

Driving home, I reflected on the fact that against all odds, these twelve students got their certificate because I would not let go of the dream I had for them to improve their skills. In many ways, that dream morphed into seeing women become proud of who they are and what they accomplished. Another outcome of my tenacity was watching these women fall in love with interpreting. I am tickled that happened.

As much as the weariness has settled in, I feel as if I have had a lesson in not giving up today. I have seen the rewards of that in so many ways and as dog-tired as I am, I can also feel the strength in my most inner being. If you have a dream, believe in it! Go for it! Don’t give up.

Dancing with a Limp

You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp. ~ Anne Lamott

I had a different blog planned tonight but things changed a little in the past hour or so. I had shared this quote earlier this week with a friend who lost a sibling and return to it now because I found it comforting when I sent it to her.

When I got home from work today, my mother had left a message asking me to call her back. She had news that an uncle who had been sick had died. He had suffered a lot lately and so it was not too much of a surprise. His son, my cousin, had sent me an update fairly recently but I still had not expected his death. He was my dad’s younger brother and in childhood days, our families spent time together, usually during summer vacation. I last saw them here when they had come on a bus tour. At the time my uncle was worried about Dad, but he did not look great himself. I always feel blessed when my dad’s family gets together. His siblings have great times teasing each other and carrying on. A good sense of humour runs in the family.

I think my dad’s heart has never completely healed or sealed back up from the many losses over the years. His parents died the year I was born—50 years ago now. Two other brothers have passed away too. Dad has arm-wrestled Death many times and won.

As I came up to write my piece tonight, I got an email message from my brother that he was in town because his wife’s sister had suddenly died. They missed her passing by an hour. That sucks.

I feel quite sad as I write this because I know what it is like to lose a sibling and I know how that changes everything. I know that it is possible to dance with that limp but you don't know that until much time has passed. I have been doing it for years. May peace settle in the soul of those mourning these losses tonight.

Peace,

Suzanne

Strive to See God

Do everything calmly and peacefully. Do as much as you can as well as you can. Strive to see God in all things without exception, and consent to His will joyously. Do everything for God, uniting yourself to him in word and deed. Walk very simply with the Cross of the Lord and be at peace with yourself. ~ St. Francis de Sales


Today is the Feast Day of St. Francis de Sales who is the patron saint of Deaf people and of writers so I thought it would be appropriate to have a quote by him today. He makes sense today still. I should try to practice his preaching. Do everything calmly and peacefully. Ok, I can try that. Do as much as you can as well as you can. Who could ask for anything more? Strive to see God in all things. That is rather Ignatian, isn’t it? Do the will of God with joy. There is a novel thought! Do everything for God, joining with him in everything I say and do. That should be a New Year’s resolution. Walk very simply with the Cross of the Lord—voluntary simplicity at its best, no doubt. Be at peace with yourself. Wouldn’t that change everything?

Tonight I had my Chemin Neuf faith-sharing meeting. I have to tell ya that I am enjoying this more and more. It is so good to talk about our faith the way we do. The people are all very lovely, most of whom I know from some part of my life. When I think about seeing God in all things, without exception, tonight’s meeting was a great example. It was also a reminder that I try to do everything for God. At the end of the prayer time, I think peace had descended upon the group. God was there and it was good.

Peace,

Suzanne

Ah, Sabbath Day!

Sunday is not a rest from physical labour; it is the rest of holy leisure, of holy reflection, meant to remind us once again that we have been created to make the world a better place, as Jesus did. ~ Joan Chittister

Sunday is my favourite day of the week. I love the leisure of it. I stay in my pj’s until noon and relish every minute of the day. I read; I lounge; I eat a good breakfast; I have a relaxed pray time. There is quietness around me and serenity inside. I often listen to the praise and worship morning on CHVN. I cherish these days.

This morning I continued reading The Liturgical Year: the spiraling adventure of the spiritual life by Joan Chittister. The message is a challenging one for me right now. Sunday mass is a bit of a struggle for me since my pastor died a year and a half ago. Most of the congregation feels a huge void. Fr. Brian was entertaining and inspiring. He ruffled feathers. He shook people out of their complacency. He reminded us of our creaturehood while inviting us to be divine.

Chittister bids the reader to understand that the monotony of ordinary time during the liturgical year is what should sustain us: To live the liturgical year is to remember God’s goodness in life, day after day, week after week, season after season, and to remind ourselves ceaselessly, therefore of our own obligation to live life differently as a result. When we go to mass, it is not the individual priest who can either bore us to tears or rouse us to action that is the purpose of our presence. Whether we are making a to-do list in our heads for the next day or riveted to our seats, we still must be present to the Presence. We are there to remember the One who was born and died for us. We are called to prayer and action and are sustained at the Table amongst a community of believers. This is how we will live our lives differently and help to create a better world, beginning with producing a better self.

Happy Sabbath Day!

Peace,

Suzanne

Baby it is cold out there!

Don't knock the weather. If it didn't change once in a while, nine out of ten people couldn't start a conversation. ~ Kin Hubbard (1868 - 1930)

Brr!!! It is a Winterpeg day here. I was out earlier today but have snuggled in for the evening. I was supposed to be out but the person I was meeting had car troubles and had to wait two hours for the tow truck to arrive. By then it was too late to catch the music performance I wanted to see. I called some other friends but most of them were hunkered down, too.

Weather—too hot or too cold, snow, rain, sleet—it is the topic of conversation for sure many times. Small talk. Sometimes it is a way to engage complete strangers in conversation. I remember in Nairobi coming out of the mall after lunch one day behind a Kenyan man. He ducked down and held his hands over his head. Puzzled, I looked at him as though something had fallen on his head. He turned to me and moaned, “It is much too hot out here!” Not so for me since I was far away from the Canadian winter. I was not going to complain one iota!

Peace,

Suzanne

Taking Refuge in Beauty

A painted landscape is always more beautiful than a real one, because there's more there. Everything is more sensual, and one takes refuge in its beauty. And (one) needs spiritual expression and nourishing. It's why even in the prehistoric era, people would scrawl pictures of bison on the walls of caves. (One) needs music, literature, and painting-all those oases of perfection that make up art-to compensate for the rudeness and materialism of life. ~ Fernando Botero

Tonight I went to an opening night art gallery exhibition. I knew a couple of the local artists. Art can transform a person. I remember being in the Louvre and wanting never to leave as I wandered from one room to another. I felt like I was falling into the canvases as I moved along, and each time it was more difficult to pull myself out of them. Some I still see so clearly in my mind and it has been decades.

I am not convinced though that a painted landscape is more beautiful than a real one but it can certainly nourish the soul. I went with friends of mine to see the Botero exhibit at the Winnipeg Art Gallery over the holidays and that was fun. Botero certainly is not into skinny the way magazines are. It was sort of refreshing to have a look at robust women, plump sunflowers, and well-known figures like Adam and Eve with some meat on them.

Seek out beauty and take refuge in it. I have and it remains deeply embedded in my soul when I need it.

Peace,

Suzanne

Dream Big, Discover the Planet

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. ~ Mark Twain

I was home sick today and so caught Oprah who is in Australia this week. I LOVE to travel. Australia is on my to-go list and one day I will get there. Those of you who know me, know that I don’t mind traveling alone. I have friends scattered all over the globe and have taken the opportunity to visit when opportunities arise.

My family always traveled and so I got the travel bug early. As a family, we would load up into our old station wagon or later our half-ton truck and away we’d head. Every year there was a trip as well as summers spent on beautiful Lake Winnipeg.

Right after high school, a group of my friends and I went to Hawaii and had a blast. As a young adult, I set out to a friend’s wedding in Greece and I never stopped traveling. I kicked about Greece on my own before and after the wedding and fell madly, deeply, and passionately in love with seeing the world, its beauty and its people and culture. I have a goal to get to every continent and as many countries as I can. I have managed to visit North America (ok, that is a no brainer since I live here), Europe, and Africa. I would love to get to Asia this year to visit my friend who is teaching there and Australia and South America at some point before I die. Antarctica had appeal at one point but as the windchill here in Winnipeg is –35 at this moment in time somewhere colder is just not a big attraction. If I do six of the seven, I would be pretty darn happy.

The photo is in the Canadian Rockies where I spent some time with a friend of mine two summers ago. Isn’t Canada a gorgeous country? Leave that safe harbour. I would hate for you to be disappointed by the things you did not do or the places you did not visit before you die. Dream big!! Discover much. You might surprise yourself when you do, right, Jeff? Hee hee. Celeste, wouldn't you agree?

Peace,

Suzanne

Beautiful Bruce

One day you're waiting for the sky to fall
The next you're dazzled by the beauty of it all.
~ Lovers in a Dangerous Time, Bruce Cockburn

Ah Bruce….Canadian icon in the music world. The above song is playing as I sit down to write this entry so why not make it the theme today? I have some fond memories of several of his concerts. I think I should go and see him here in April as one of my 50th celebrations. I don’t recall if the Winnipeg Folk Festival was the first time I ever heard Bruce but it was probably one of the most intense. He had just written If I had a rocket launcher and his anger was raw. I understood the intensity of his emotions after I had been to Guatemala, my first real foray into a land where the people had been destroyed by armies backed by the United States. I sat riveted to his music and stories that night on the main stage.

Another awesome memory I have was seeing him in Washington, DC. I forget the forum but I saw him twice there while working at Sojourners Magazine and this was the indoor event. It was “winter” I think because I remember wearing a coat. At an intermission I remember hearing a voice call out, “Hey, Canada, I thought you would be here!” It was a guy I had met on retreat at Kirkbridge and had developed a HUGE crush on. Wow! He scored more points by showing up at that concert. More so, when he started leaping over rows of chairs to get down to my level and chat me up. Ok, yeah, you’re right if you are reading this and thinking I remember that moment more than the concert itself.

I think one of the other reasons I am crazy about Bruce besides his excellent music is his humanitarian efforts. He speaks out intelligently and passionately through his music and work. His new album, which I have not yet heard, has some songs about the war in Afghanistan that I am interested in hearing.

He is a poet and I am dazzled by the beauty he creates.

Peace,

Suzanne

Happy Birthday, Bro!

A brother is a friend provided by nature. ~ Legouve Pere

My brother is celebrating a birthday today. He and my younger sister enjoy his birthday at an earlier stage in life in the above photo. Dan is the only boy in our family. He was firstborn among the kids. He and I are just a couple of years apart and growing up, I idolized him. So much so my mom wondered if I would ever transform into a girl from my tomboy state. I would play football, hockey, and baseball with the boys. I was caught climbing trees, even in my dresses.

We are still good friends though we have lived quite a few miles apart over the past two decades. In our family he was the entertainer. He always had us laughing so it is no surprise that as an adult he is now a humour writer. You can check out his blog at http://thatdanguy.blogspot.com if you want to get a sense of who he is. I don’t think it is a fluke that we both write. In many ways, I think he encouraged me to create stories. Our styles and audiences are different but the passion for writing is similar.

I won’t tell any tales out of school, bro, so if you’re getting nervous reading this, relax. I will just say that we also share an uncanny phenomena around numbers, especially 11. I often look at a clock as it turns 1:11 or 11:11. Weird but so does he if you read his blog.

Happy birthday, bro!! Have a great year. It is 2011 so it should have a special effect for ya.

Peace,

Suzanne

Service stations

Why do they call it rush hour when nothing moves? (from Mork and Mindy)

I wondered this as I sat in traffic this evening. A colleague was driving me to pick up my car at the garage. I wished it was warm enough to walk the short blocks but alas it was that stereotypical day here in Winterpeg. I could have walked the distance in 5 minutes but it took us 20 in traffic. Go figure!

Cars…some day I won’t have to depend on them. They are both a blessing or a curse. The road conditions were horrible again today so I chose to change my schedule and stay in the city. The day before I had unplugged my car and the prongs came off in my hand. Because it was Sunday, there was only one shop opened nearby and it had no openings. Turns out it was a good thing because not only was the cord broken, the block heater was not working and needed to be replaced. What was supposed to be a 15 minute job turned out to be an afternoon affair. I left the car and went to the school. When I finally returned to pick it up, my vehicle kept stalling before I could leave the lot. Argh!!! The mechanic took it back in and could not really find the problem though narrowed it down. Service stations drive me crazy in instances like this. Should be ready in the morning.

On another note but still on service, today is Martin Luther King Day in the USA. Several years ago when I was in Atlanta at the MLK Centre I bought a t-shirt with the following quote on it:

Everybody can be great, because anybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.

May your service change the world.

Peace,

Suzanne

You Can Be the Change

I've seen and met angels wearing the disguise of ordinary people living ordinary lives. ~ Tracy Chapman


I was flipping through my journal from my African Adventures last night and realized that the incident in DR Congo took place about a year ago. You can see my January 6th entry for the beginning of that story. I would like to tell you the rest of that tale now though.

Believe it or not, Elizabeth and I went to bed soon after the crowd dispersed. She insisted that I stay in her room and take the bed that had a mosquito net. She would sleep on the couch. I tried to talk her out of it since I was the one on malaria tablets but she would have none of it. As I lay wide-awake on the bed, I could hear Elizabeth’s breathing indicate she was fast asleep. The hotel was secure and well fortified and so we were safe but the images of the angry mob ran through my head. I knew too that we would face the consequences of their actions in the morning when the army returned to the village. I could hear the owner of the hotel pacing in the room above me. Earlier he had gone up to the top floor to shoot off the odd round of bullets to keep the crowds from vandalizing the hotel. It was early in the morning when I heard his mobile phone ring and I strained to hear his voice but could not. I did hear him leave in his vehicle minutes later. I had heard other cars leaving the compound throughout the night. I wondered if Elizabeth and I were now the only ones left in the hotel.

Elizabeth awoke at one point and prayed. She began in Kiswahili but switched to English at one point. Though she had been a rock in front of me, she had assumed I was asleep and would not hear her fear and anguish. My own worries increased. Sleep did find me eventually though, sometime after 5:00 a.m. I awoke at 7:30, startled, knowing that something had alerted me to a danger but not sure what. An eerie silence hung in the air. Slipping out from under the mosquito net, I crept towards the living room area. Elizabeth was standing near the window that had a black film over it so people could not see in, though we could still see out. Our eyes met briefly and then I followed her gaze to the scene outside. Right under our balcony stood a soldier, holding a gun to the head of a youth, he was yelling to grab three or four more young men and shoot them on the spot as a warning to the villagers that the destruction of the night before was unacceptable. I froze. My mind flashed forward involuntarily at what I was about to see up close. Horror set in.

Then, to my amazement, Elizabeth, who was Congolese and fluent in the local language, slipped out onto our balcony and did the unthinkable. Selflessly, she called quietly down to the solider issuing commands, and talked him out of committing such violence. She was quick, but convincing, and then as silently as she had gone, she slipped back in. She had risked her own life to save that young man’s. Within minutes, the army had released all the young people and left. She had averted a tragedy. She had been an angel to that town. She was a peace practioner who now had lived the theory. I had been a witness to an action I had only read about up to that point.

The incident did not end there. The violence continued throughout the day. Police and army members took turns returning to the town and firing into the crowds while children with stones threw rocks back at them. I sat with the Quaker partners who had come to check up on us, watching the violence, occasionally taking refuge in a corner of the room where there were no windows when gunfire seemed to be at its worst. At one point, the owner of the hotel came back and the governor arrived at the hotel moments later, escorted by troops. The partners and Elizabeth decided that this lull in the violence would be the perfect time for me to return to Burundi. One of the men accompanied me out of the country. The violence continued for the next two days. In the end, the news report stated there were no fatalities, and only about half a dozen people were injured. I know for certain that the outcome had to do with Elizabeth’s brave and self-sacrificing act.

Now whenever I hear someone say that one person cannot make a difference, I balk. One person can change the course of events if they step out in faith. Nothing will ever make me believe differently. If you want to read more about my African Adventures, you can visit suzanneinafrica.blogspot.com and have a peek.

Peace,

Suzanne

Would You Do It Again?

If we could roll back the time
And start at the beginning again
Knowing all we would find
Would we walk through it over again

Maybe it’s true
That we were out of our mind
cause oh would you would I
Have come to this table if we weren’t blind
To eat from this bread and to drink from this wine

Do you think we’d have the courage again
Knowing what we’d have to spend

~Steve Bell in Let’s Do It Again


Turning fifty is reason for reflecting back on one’s life. Tonight I went to a Steve Bell concert at Aqua Books. Steve is a local Christian musician who is always entertaining both as a singer/songwriter and a storyteller. You can click on http://stevebell.com to find out more about him and hear his music. This song is on the Romantics and Mystics CD. I used to attend Steve’s concerts annually but life just got too darn busy to fit them in. They were often just before a paper was due or an exam was to be written. Settling in to my chair as the first song began, I was keenly aware how much I missed taking time out for music. The evening was really worshipful (is that a word?) and entertaining. Nothing beats inspirational music, great friends, and funny stories.

When he sang the above song, my thoughts wandered through the difficult week I have had: a funeral, ill family members, hospitalization of two people, an abduction of a child, a peeping tom in my friend’s window, news of another friend’s miscarriage, and so on. Crazy, eh?? It is a good thing that we don’t always know what is ahead of us because I am not sure we would have the courage to go through it. Only later do we understand that all we needed was given for the task at hand.

I often admit that I would change very little of the 50 years I have lived. While it is true that I might not have come to the table to eat from this bread and to drink from this wine if I had known what was about to be asked of me, knowing all that I know now, I would walk through my life once again as it has unfolded. Yes, there are always little changes one might wish to do, but mostly in my reminiscing, I find a heart full of gratitude for all that has been.

In the craziness of this week, I marveled at the strength of my spirit. I sought solace in praying for people. I know they will need it. Prayer is the least I can do for someone. During weeks such as this past one, it is the most I can do—for myself and for the people involved. Coming to the table and offering up my—our—needs is the wisest act I can offer in trying times.

The photo is of a tabernacle I saw in Nairobi at Tumaini House,the Catholic Guest House I stayed at two years ago. I thought it was a perfect expression of the African woman who carried the weight of the world for those she loved, just as Jesus did for us. Come to the table. Don't be afraid.

Peace,

Suzanne

Pain Drain

The greatest evil is physical pain. ~ St. Augustine.

After work, I visited a friend who had had knee surgery yesterday. Just looking at her, I knew she was in great pain. I did not stay long as I know first hand what it is like to have to try to be pleasant to guests when really you have a silent moan going on in your head. When I was 20 years old, I had a life changing experience. I had surgery for a tumor that had grown on my hip. That pain was insane. Besides the regular post-surgery pain, it felt like my bone had been sawed off with fire. That probably doesn’t make sense to anyone who has not experienced that kind of burning pain. Just count yourself lucky you don't understand.

I am no stranger to pain. A former pastor who suffered greatly with breathing problems used to say to me that it was nothing like the pain I had—that was pain he could not tolerate. He had had sciatica pain for a few days. I have had it for years. Oddly enough, most people have no idea that I had such excruciating pain. I hated talking about it. I always thought people could see it in my eyes. Every time I looked in the mirror, I was struck by what I saw. Why talk about it when it seemed so clear to me that the pain was overwhelming? One day, when the pain seemed especially unbearable, I thought that I understood why people kill themselves because of pain. I was not suicidal but I did get that people would do anything to end that kind of constant pain.

When I look back over my journey of pain, I refused to give in. I wanted to live as normally as I could without people’s pity or concern. I was so convincing that I think even the specialists had no idea how severe my condition was. I was not going to let the pain win. Pain did feel like a dark evil force in my life that I was constantly arm-wrestling. The pain killers would ease the pain for ten minutes. Woohoo! I would spend two days in bed, sleeping, when I should have been hospitalized. I had even convinced myself that the throbbing pain was not so bad—certainly not worth a visit to an emergency room. Reflecting back, I have to shake my head at the one neurologist who told my family doctor that I had a low pain threshold. I later described the pain as a hammer smashing up and down my leg every single day 24 hours a day from my gluts to the top of my foot. For 48 hours a month, the additional joy of the feeling of someone taking an ice pick and stabbing me up and down the length of my nerve would just about do me in.

Now, life is not completely pain-free but I manage the lingering effects of my condition better and in comparison, it is a pleasant walk in the park most days. Pain is indeed a great evil and as such, raging against it has its place.

Peace,

Suzanne

A Piece of Peace

My therapist told me the way to achieve true inner peace is to finish what I start. So far today, I have finished 2 bags of M&M's and a chocolate cake. I feel better already. ~ Dave Barry

Ah, the quest for inner peace. It is a life long search. I have found it more times than most perhaps. Trouble is I misplace it from time to time. However, I am getting better at owning my stuff and letting the rest fall as it may. Today we had a staff meeting and some of my colleagues with adult children were talking about learning the lesson of letting their children be adults. As I near 50, I am pleased with the progress that I have made with figuring out what is mine and what belongs to someone else. I try to take responsibility when I am supposed to and that helps with the inner peace. In fact, there are a good number of us who are saying in the office these days, “just let it go!” Some days, it becomes a mantra. Of course, if letting go fails, I know where to get M & M’s!

Peace,

Suzanne

Sunrise, Sunset: Live Fully

Our care should not be to have lived long as to have lived enough. ~ Seneca

I went to a funeral this morning. The church was packed and the service was really honouring of the one who died. It took place in my childhood church which looks like a teepee or swirly ice cream cone. The son giving the eulogy showed his emotions but let people know it was ok that he was. I have been to many funerals in my life and this one touched me. A friend who was also present mentioned that a Catholic funeral really is meaningful.

Funerals are really for the living. We go to pay tribute to the deceased but at the same time we are there to comfort those who live on and to let them know that their loved one was important. Life at fifty is going to be fabulous because so many people do not live that long. I have been to a funeral where the deceased was 94 years old, and I have been to a funeral for an infant who did not make it to term. Both of those people had an impact on my life. My grandmother, of course, was incredibly influential. Her funeral was an opportunity to celebrate almost a century of living. The infant who I never know on this side of his mother’s womb, still lived enough to create in me a deeper faith and a more cherished value for life.

When I think about life, I don’t think about length so much as breadth or depth. How deeply am I engaged with people? How committed am I to someone or something? What do I do with this gift I am given? I believe that I can say that I have truly lived my life. I have not let it just pass by without engagement or celebration. Sometimes, I suspect, I live TOO fully but given the alternative and not knowing when this earthy life will fade, I would not change up things much. Live. Live fully. Live joyously. Life with eyes and heart wide open. Live enough. This is not a dress rehearsal as the old adage goes.

Peace,

Suzanne

Gift of Friendship

In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, for in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed. ~ Kahlil Gibran

There is a scene in the movie, It’s Complicated, that I absolutely loved. The women friends are sitting around and the confession comes but sentences are not finished and yet slowly, each person knows what was meant. Close friendships are like that, especially amongst women. You don’t always have to finish your thoughts before the other person knows exactly what you are saying. I am blessed with groups of women friends who I adore. Tonight was one of those gatherings with two women where the conversation flowed easily and the laughter even more so. Until this past year, we were a group of four. One of us passed away in the spring. This was only the second gathering without her. This particular group is multi-generational and I love that because we glean wisdom from each other. I value my women friends and the depth of the relationships I have. Whether it is reconnecting with women I went to elementary school with, interpreting colleagues, church buddies, or other connections, I often find my centre there. Tonight, we shared a meal, laughed (until we cried at one point), checked in on how life was unfolding, shared dreams, and affirmed each other on our paths. I had had a long day but this encounter did make my heart find its morning and refresh my soul. Women….such a gift to one another.

Peace,

Suzanne

Read Always

“Let us read and let us dance - two amusements that will never do any harm to the world.”
~ Voltaire

I spent the evening watching Prince Caspian. I read the Chronicles of Narnia by CS Lewis about two decades ago and fell into the magical land of Narnia with delight. I still find the final scene in the last chapter breathtaking. I can only hope for that day....

I read voraciously as a child. This summer I breezed through the Girl with the Dragon Tatoo triology in a couple of weeks. Reading is my escape and my ground at the same time. While Prince Caspian the film was great, I prefer the books. There is something about creating a running picture in your head that I love. I suspect it is what I love about interpreting too. I one time asked someone who I was observing who was struggling with expressing the concept, "what do you see?" The person looked at me blankly. Ah, I thought, no visual context.

Reading brings life, knowledge, wisdom, joy, sorrow, and laughter. It frees me from the here and now and plops me into worlds of intrigue, faraway lands, romantic affairs, and glorious lives far more fascinating then my routine. I read everything I could get my hands on growing up. When I finished all my Nancy Drew books, I started on my brother's Hardy Boys series. I am grateful to my mother for packing us into the station wagon for our weekly library visits. Libraries were a favourite hangout back then. I loved even the smell of the library.

Some day, maybe I will even write a book that will end up in a library--or on some e-book thingy--and some young girl will find herself happily lost amongst the pages.

peace,

Suzanne

Sabbath Time

I go to church, not because of any legalistic or moralistic reasons, but because I am a hungry sheep who needs to be fed. ~ Madeleine L’Engle

Sundays…I love them. Sabbath Days to rest and reflect. Today I went to One Heart Winnipeg—a gathering of almost 13,000 Christians at the MTS Centre, seeking unity amongst people in our city. It was my first time at the event. I am ecumenical at heart though Catholic to the core. This morning’s worship was good for hungry sheep, those who desire praise and worship.

Last night I was at mass at Stony Mountain Institution. My parish has a prison ministry and attends chapel service there once a month. I try to go as often as I can with them. I cannot seem to worship without translating it into action. The inmates need to be fed on all kinds of levels and while we are not there to evangelize we do support and encourage the guys on their journey.

Tonight, I had supper with a small community called Chemin Neuf which is looking at starting up here in Winnipeg. We meet monthly to pray and share life together. That feeds me too. Busy for a Sabbath day but I feel happily full.

Cinnamon Buns

I really don't think I need buns of steel. I'd be happy with buns of cinnamon. ~Ellen DeGeneres

I have struggled with body image for a long time. Half my life I was underweight. I was so skinny that you could see my ribs. The cool thing was that I could eat non-stop and I still didn’t gain weight. I used to hang out with guys who were football coaches. I remember how one time after a pizza outing one of them said to me, “This is why I don’t date you—I could not afford to keep you!” I had wolfed back as many pizza slices as the guys. I used to dress in baggy clothes so people did not think I was anorexic or bulimic.

I love food and for most of my life it was not an issue. As I worked out today, I wonder what happened to my body. Aging and illness definitely are factors, as is genetics. My weekly Pilates class helps with all the aches and pains, as well as strengthening the body but doesn't help so much with weight loss. People look at me now and assume I am pregnant. I have had a few people ask, in case you think I am making it up or am paranoid. I am not sure which was worse—people thinking I had an eating disorder or thinking that at half a century I am about to have my first child. Sigh. Can’t win for trying.

Well, maybe I should try harder. I have been fairly lucky health-wise with the weight gain. Everyone else in my immediate family has Type II diabetes. I keep dodging that bullet but was not so lucky with high cholesterol this time around when I saw the doctor. Now I am eating fish and oatmeal. No, not together. That sounds a little gross or bland or grossly bland to me. I need to watch what I eat now and exercise more. However, Ellen does have a point….and I live pretty darn close to some of the best cinnamon buns in town.

Peace,

Suzanne

Decisions, decisions, decisions!

It's not hard to make decisions when you know what your values are. ~Roy Disney

I love my job for the most part but as a colleague wrote in an email today, “Our jobs of travel suck in the winter time! “ I headed out on the highway this morning and when I passed the perimeter, the visibility dropped to near zero in places. Still I drove for a bit before deciding I was insane. It is easy to make decisions when you know what your priorities in life are. The school visit could wait. The risk was not worth it. I switched lanes as I knew an intersection was coming up. I was almost on top of it before I saw it. Then I had to figure out if there was oncoming traffic or not in order to get onto the highway heading back to the city. I saw the faint glimmer of headlights. As I waited to turn, I shook my head. What was I thinking? Why had I come even this far? Even semi trucks were going below the speed limit—that should have been reason enough to turn around. However when I did make the decision, I knew it was the right one and experienced no guilt in making it.

We face decisions daily. Sometimes we can make them quickly; other times we agonize over them. Discernment is a gift. I am grateful for having taken the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius which helps with that process. I have to admit as I look toward that half century mark, I have very few regrets in life. Those that I do have are not decisions that I languish over. For that I am especially grateful. I don’t know how many of us can say this but there is not a whole lot of things I would do differently in life if given the chance.

Peace,

Suzanne

At the Core of My Being

For Africa to me... is more than a glamorous fact. It is a historical truth. No man can know where he is going unless he knows exactly where he has been and exactly how he arrived at his present place. ~ Maya Angelou

Two years ago I was in Kenya, beginning my African Adventure with Change Agents for Peace International. I had no idea what those three months would bring or how they would change me in inexplicable ways. Oddly enough, I don’t think people really notice the changes. Life has returned to “normal” for me and everyone else’s routine was never really affected by my absence. It was only two years ago though that I was crouched in a corner of my hotel room as the noise of rocket launchers and semi-automatic weapons shattered the stillness. Thus began 20 hours of self-imposed captivity in my colleague’s hotel room. A riot broke out in that little village in DR Congo right in front of our window. I was the only white ex-pat left in town. The Blue Helmets or the UN troops who were supposed to have protected the villagers and me fled the scene. The villagers attacked the police station next to the hotel as the incident turned out to be a robbery by the army who tried to trick the people into believing it was the rebels. Long story short, the crowd grew into an angry mob, setting fire to items from the police station and nearby shops. I was not sure how this insanity was going to end. As my colleague Elizabeth and I sat there in silence, I heard soft rain. Then I did an odd thing. I bent my head and prayed—just as I had done in the secure corner of my room when the shots rang out. I say an odd thing because Elizabeth did not get it right away when I asked God to open the heavens and let the rain pour down. When she did comprehend my mission, she joined me in a powerful prayer session and the rains became torrential in nature. The mob dispersed. When I related this story to a well-known peacemaker after returning to Canada, he articulated something I had not yet integrated. I was not traumatized too much because of my unshakeable faith in God. He noted my faith seemed to be rooted deeply within me and that was evident to him. I guess I knew where to go because I knew where I came from.

Peace,

Suzanne

Fearless at Fifty?

“Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” ~ Jesus in the Gospel of Mark, Chapter 6.

Fear is a funny emotion. I hate the way it paralyzes a person. I spent a year walking through my fears when I turned 40. I decided to do 40 new things that year. Little did I know that one of the first events would make my heart race and induce a wee bit of a panic attack. I took a kayaking course and in the first class we had to do a wet exit—which meant being underwater in an upside down kayak and exiting it successfully. Yeah, right. My fear of water was never so evident as at the moment the instructor asked me to do that. I did it though and each time thereafter I had to give myself a pep talk but I did manage to do it every time I needed to.

When I volunteered with Habitat for Humanity, I encountered my fear of heights. Each year, I climbed a little higher up a house until I finally stood on the rooftop, shingling. Getting off that roof was much more difficult than getting on it. I was so freaked out, I could not move. I got down though. There have been copious times when fear has attempted to prevent me from doing what I wanted to do. I have learned though that fear cannot win. The passage from Mark is a favourite of mine. Take heart. Jesus is with me. Do not be afraid.

Many of us struggle with ours fears and I am saddened by how it prevents us from moving into an amazing experience. If I had walked away from that kayaking lesson that day, I would never have discovered an activity that I grew to love deeply. I raved about it to a friend and colleague and she went on to become an avid paddler. If fear had stopped me, that would have lead to my friend and colleague also not learning to kayak which would have lead to her friend doing the same. Fear has a chain reaction. It prevents people from living fully.

I try to walk through my fears because I do not want to live half a life. I want to live as fully as possible and celebrate each gift that is presented as a new adventure. As I approach 50, I hope that fears have less control over me. Take heart; do not be afraid. Nothing we ever do is a solo venture.

Peace,

Suzanne

Hi Ho, Hi ho, it's off to work I go!

Every human activity can be put at the service of the divine and of love. ~ Jean Vanier

I went back to work today after a two-week break. The eight hours zipped by. I could not believe it when it was 4:30. I like my current job but I have loved my career. It was 29 years ago this month that I graduated from St. Paul TVI as an ASL-English interpreter. That career has now spanned more than half my life. It has taught me so much. Many of my “firsts” were work-related: my first funeral, my first birthing room, and my first time inside jail. I was just a kid when I started. I was one of the youngest in my training program and was welcomed by the other 29 students graciously. I was the only Canadian and probably had the most experience interacting in the Deaf Community. The others should have hated me as they struggled to understand the instructors and do the task at hand but instead I formed some relationships that are still solid and cherished. I try to get together with a handful of these women as often as we can. They helped shape this young, innocent prairie girl’s ideas, values, and dreams. I owe them more than I can articulate. They were women who were older, wiser, and brilliantly strong in ways I had never encountered. They were feminists. They were activists. They were nature-lovers. They were amazing and I graduated with much more than a certificate in interpreting. My world was never going to be the same because of them.

The program lasted five months. Now it is a four-year BA program. I came back to Winnipeg and immediately was overwhelmed by the need here where there was a shortage of trained interpreters. I hit the ground running and worked in the community for 8 years before taking a year’s sabbatical. The privilege of interpreting is that you are intertwined intimately in people’s lives. I have had opportunities that have been sacred—to witness the birth of a child, to relay the healing words of a mental health practioner, to speak loving words from a Deaf child to their parent. I have witnessed interactions that can be described, as Vanier says, for the service of the divine and of love. I have glimpsed into the dark side of the world: addiction, abortion, rape, and domestic violence. I know things that I would rather not know and yet there is nothing I would change. Every human activity has a powerful lesson to it.

peace,

Suzanne

Make Any Resolutions?

The object of a New Year is not that we should have a new year. It is that we should have a new soul. ~ G. K. Chesterton

How are those New Year Resolutions going for ya? I was reading that resolutions should be SMART: specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and timely. That sounds smart. For example, I made a resolution to write more publicly. How am I going to do that, you ask? Well, I started this blog and I am going to try to write it at least three times a week for a year and a half. Success rate? Day three and this is my third blog. Whew!!

I have not always been so specific with my resolutions. I glanced back over journals recently and noticed a few not so SMART goals: lose weight, pray more, travel, eat healthier, stay in better touch with friends, etc. We all make those sweeping dream statements, I suppose. Sadly, I noticed that some of the same goals end up in journal writing on an annual basis. How seriously do I take my resolutions? Perhaps as seriously as most people but I would like that to change this year.

One of the other things I have noted about resolution making is that the goal should be positive. So I am guessing that means “Lose 30 pounds, Tubby!” won’t have the same success rate as “Create your new skinny look by cutting sugar in half, sweetie!” Those voices we hear in our head are really the masters of our lives. Over the decades, I have worked on letting go of those critical whinings and replaced them with melodious cheerleaders. I like Chesterton’s quote and maybe using that lens will help me keep my focus this year. Annually, I hope that I grow and am liberated from attitudes and behaviours that bind me in unhealthy ways. A new soul each year is a gift, not because the old one was bad but because no newness means staleness and life offers too many lessons not to be open to growth.

Peace,

Suzanne

Queen for a Day!

By choosing to be vulnerable and to risk a leap of faith, (the Magi) discovered an unexpected gift much greater than the ones there were ready to offer. ~ A. Chezzi

Today is the Feast of the Epiphany, a celebration that I love. I have thrown a few Epiphany parties in the past where people come dressed as royalty, and bearing gifts for the Christ child (in the form of items for the local food bank). Those were some of the best parties! Some day, when I have a home that allows enough space to throw a party like that again, I will reinstate that event.

My Christmas letter this year examined the journey of the Magi to some extent: I think about those shepherds and Wise Men and see the difference between them. The shepherds were not seeking anything that starry night when the angel appeared and scared them almost to death. The Magi were on a mission. I don’t know which I am—maybe a bit of both. Some days, I suspect, I stand, like those shepherds, in the field in the dark of night, trying simply to be faithful to the task at hand and knowing God will bless what comes of it. Other times, I am ready to jump on my camel and travel with a burning heart and a clear purpose. Either way, Emmanuel is there. My heart must just be ready to recognize the Star Light or the angel’s voice. Whether it starts with the shepherd’s fears or the Magi’s curiosity, the journey has the potential to transform us. I will be given all that I need for the circuitous expedition, with all its unexpected destinations and detours. As I enter this year of jubilee, I trust that more than I can articulate. I have no idea what this year will hold for me but I do know that looking back on my life, the One who came to Earth that starlight night is with me and that is enough.

This morning, my devotional reading had the opening quote from Chezzi who also challenged readers to be risk-takers by taking a leap of faith and leave the security of the known and step into the unknown. Let go and jump!! Easy for some—personally, I am scared of heights. Even this blog is a huge risk for me. Part of me feels it is quite self-indulgent; another part thinks it makes me crazily vulnerable to unhealthy scrutiny. I am still gonna do it. Many of you will remember that when I turned 40, I tried 40 new things. That was a year of taking risks and I have loved that lesson and tried to continue living it out. Maybe I will discover an unexpected gift much greater than the one I have to offer by writing this blog. Regardless, I am putting my gift out there.

Peace,

Suz

1/1/11: Off to a Fabulous year!

But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. ~ Luke 2:19

Happy 2011 to everyone!

This is a milestone year for me. I turn 50 about midway through the year and I have wanted to do something to mark the occasion. Im particular, I wanted to give something to the people in my life and so since many of you encourage me with my writing that I thought I would write this blog for a year and a half and you can click on to it as you wish. Hopefully, you will find some inspiration and hope.

I finished reading Uncommon Gratitude: Alleluia for all that is by Joan Chittister over the Christmas break and liked the theme. As I reflect on the past half century, I have lots to celebrate, including some of the more painful chapters of my life. What better way to enter a new year than with gratitude?

Today is the Feast Day of Mary, Mother of God. I do have much to treasure and ponder. I believe that I have tried to be faithful to the life given to me and am excited about becoming 50. I have had a fabulous life thus far and I know God has many blessings left for me to receive and share.

The World Day of Prayer for Peace is also celebrated today. Peace is much needed in our hearts, minds, families, communities, workplace, and world. We receive so many mixed messages that bring unrest to our souls. As I look forward to celebrating 50 years of life, I am surprised by the reaction of those who feel it is an event not worth cherishing but rather one to be dreaded. Not so for me! I am peaceful about it and am grateful that I get the opportunity to age. The irony of knowing that I have been gifted with a life almost twice as long as my youngest sister is not lost on me. Life at 50 is going to be FANTASTIC!

I am not sure if I will write every day, but when I do, it will be a mix of rememberings and ponderings, something that perhaps will stir your own hearts regarding your own lives. I will be looking back over half a century but will also root my musings in the present and glance to the future. Join me for this joy-filled journey when you can.

Peace,


Suzanne