Serenity

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Image by Pexels from Pixabay

As I grow older – do we ever say, ”I am old” or is that a place we are always moving toward?

My sister, at age 86, took exception when I described her as ”elderly”!

There is a poem that I like, https://www.poetrynook.com/poem/song-246

Song

by Florence Smith

HOW PLEASANT it is that always
There’s somebody older than you—
Someone to pet and caress you,
Someone to scold you, too!

Someone to call you a baby,
To laugh at you when you’re wise;
Someone to care when you’re sorry,
To kiss the tears from your eyes;

When life has begun to be weary,
And youth to melt like the dew,
To know, like the little children
Somebody’s older than you.

The path cannot be so lonely,
For someone has trod it before;
The golden gates are the nearer,
That someone stands at the door.

I can think of nothing sadder
Than to feel, when days are few,
There’s nobody left to lean on,
Nobody older than you!

The younger ones may be tender
To the feeble steps and slow;
But they can’t talk the old times over—
Alas, how should they know!

‘Tis a romance to them—a wonder
You were ever a child at play;
But the dear ones waiting in heaven
Know it is all as you say.

I know that the great All-Father
Loves us, and the little ones too;
Keep only childlike-hearted—
Heaven is older than you!

Confused as to where this post is heading? Ha ha. So am I!

I suppose what I really want to say is that as we grow older, I think that most of us tend to become a little more accepting of others – of our differences and the things that we used to vehemently disagree about don’t matter so much.

I like to believe that as we move towards aging and the loss of our faculties -because for many of us it does happen, and stop trying to pretend it isn’t so – we also become less likely to judge others and to find fault.

I chose the photos of lily pads for a reason. As a child, of four or five, I lived in a beautiful and remote part of northern British Columbia, Canada. The farm where I lived had a pond complete with lily pads and frogs.

In those days, I had no idea that people could be cruel, uncaring, or prejudiced. I spend hours at that pond, catching tiny toads, and listening to the frogs and the birds.

The few kids and adults who came and saw that pond liked it. There was never a hint that I might learn about loneliness or hate then.

Perhaps we all have a special place, or at least a special memory of a time, or a person or a place, that made us happy.

As I grow older, I think of that place, and today, all this time past, it makes me happy.

If you feel depressed, or alone, misunderstood, try to think of that place – yes, to risk being trite – of your ”happy place” because so many of us do have them.

If you lack such a special place, take my memories of that beautiful, quiet secluded pond, and make it your own.

Listen to the sounds of the birds chirping in the trees. Hear the croaks of the frogs as they hop from one lily pad to another. Hear the gentle lapping of the nearly still water. Smell the water. There is no algae here, just the soft scent of water and the forest.

There is a fate that awaits us all, hopefully not too soon for most.

But we need our memories and our happy times to get through the years.

Serenity….the hidden pond in an otherwise hectic and often sad world.

Image by Corinna Schenk from Pixabay

Humanity Forgiveness and Peace

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I confess to having taken a break from the daily news the last while. I am tired of the coronavirus talk. No, I do not think the virus is a hoax, and yes, I believe it is a threat to us all.

I am tired of the constant reports, though, and just for a bit, I will think of other things.

I stopped watching about the time Black Lives Matter protests began.

In Canada, we have not only had BLM demonstrations, but here we also have an ongoing problem with the way our indigenous people view the current citizens and the way the indigenous people have been treated over the years, since the first fur traders came, and since the explorers arrived.

In this country, the wrongs and injustices are paid for, by the government, in the form of money distributed to our indigenous people, for things like land claims and the treatment they say they received in the government run residential schools.

I believe – I hope – that our black population has been respected more here, than elsewhere in the world.

I know that there is a lot of animosity towards the immigrants of today, and the refugees arriving in Canada.

I wonder, though, when does the hate and the resentment and the anger at the ”new people” arriving in the country, stop?

So, I have a couple of things I want to say.

First, for the indigenous population, the people who live in Canada today have nothing to do with the explorers, fur traders and settlers that came here and became a part of the country.

So, isn’t it time we, the descendants, can stop having to pay for the ”sins” of our fathers?

Throughout history, the urge to explore has been a fact.

How far back are we supposed to go, before the ”real” people of this country can say that ”they” are the rightful inhabitants?

I think it is very easy to fall into the trap of blaming others for everything that one dislikes about life today.

That doesn’t make it right.

We hear a very one sided story, when it comes to the way Canadians settled in this land.

There were many martyrs, thanks to the indigenous people attacking and torturing the priests who came to spread the message of God’s love.

We don’t ever talk about or hear about that today.

Injustice towards anyone, towards any group of people breaks my heart.

The things that have been reported in the USA about the treatment of black people, is horrendous.

It is wrong. No question.

I think it is time to do this.

Stop expecting money to solve the problems of history.

Stop asking for apologies for things our long dead ancestors did in Canada.

How about this?

Instead of expecting money to solve injustice, we begin a new approach.

Let’s learn to live together. Let’s respect each other.

Let’s – dare I say it – let’s Forgive.

Psychiatrists and psychologists will tell you that an important step in gaining freedom from the past is to accept and to forgive.

It is a concept that seems to have been forgotten today.

We – all of us – need to strive for inner peace. Money and possessions won’t do it.

Let’s all try to stop hating and blaming others.

We need to learn how to live in this world, in harmony with others.

Instead of placing blame, calling names and trying to rewrite the past by destroying history – defacing and tearing down statues – let’s all face the future, together, in a spirit of brotherhood.

Forgiveness does not mean anyone has to stop working for change.

It is a freeing of the spirit, so that great things may be dreamed of and accomplished.

We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Time Waits for No one

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It was fifty years ago – how can it be that long ago? Sometimes it seems like a lifetime away, and sometimes it seems like only yesterday – I met a boy. I had a crush on Paul McCartney at the time.

But when I saw B-, all thoughts of Paul faded away. B- had grey eyes, a startling color and curly dark hair. He wore grey cord pants. I fell in love, at first sight.

We – my friend and I – were on our way to British Columbia, and our stop in the city of Calgary was accidental.

Meeting him was an accident too. We had taken a wrong turn, and our trip to B.C. was postponed.

We spent the night listening to the radio, and talked and talked. He was funny and happy and I fell in love. Well, as in love as a naive sheltered girl can be.

When my friend and I left the next day, to carry on to B.C., I didn’t want to go!

But fate and necessity carried us on.

I have often wondered what happened to B-.

What was his life like? Did he become an airline pilot, as he dreamed? He was handsome enough to be an actor.

I would not want to see him now, I don’t think. I would not want him to know how my life turned out, shortly after I left. He had spoken of all the wonderful things he imagined for me!

I want to remember him as he was back then. Young and truly beautiful. I know that it is unusual to speak of a man or boy as ”beautiful” but oh my! he was!

I don’t want to think that he is old, like me. I don’t want to believe that he is bald, with a paunch and lost dreams.

I want to remember him – to remember us – as young and idealistic, with our lives before us.

We can’t ever go back, and that is probably for the best.

If you are younger than I am, please take away from this, that I wish you all the dreams and happiness and experiences that your heart can hold.

Treasure each moment, because those moments never come again.

Yesterday

Out of the past to the present

Comes a sad sweet song from afar.

Back from a world of yesterdays,

Down from a blue white star.

It comes across the ages.

Oh! Hark my soul and be still.

Back from the days of long ago,

A voice floating down from the hill.