As I awoke the sun rising through my window, offered me glowing sheets of colour. The familiar early morning bathroom visit, did not lead to more sleep rather I find myself on my front porch, filled just hours before with friends, old friends. The kind of people who have seen me at my best and at my worst. Those people who have sat with me through deep sorrow, and great celebration, people who have heard me rage, and have loved me through all of it.
Together we celebrated friendship that crossed barriers of time and space, together we celebrated the gift of living in Canada. We discussed climate change, our grandchildren, our immigrants histories, our hopes, our fears. We shared food, lots of food, we walked, we sat, we smelled the roses ( literally, this cool damp spring has created happy roses!). We laughed, oh how we laughed. Some of us dove into georgian bay refreshed by the balm of healing waters, some of us just walked along side, and some stayed at the house, reading, relaxing, napping.
We celebrated Canada day 2019.
A few days before that I found myself sitting on a peaceful back porch at the home of an indigenous elder sharing our stories of life. We sat together in silence and in conversation, we sat with the chipmunks and the dragon flies ( there were not many mosquitos). We were born only months apart from one another. We shared some experiences in our early lives, we had many different experiences. No one in my family was a residential school survivor.
I went to a one room school for my first four years of my education. I found arrow heads in the fields on my farm, I collected them. I did not know the first peoples who had lived on our farm, no one told me stories of them. The indigenous settlement that was unearthed when a highway was being built near the farm I grew up on was cause for curiosity in my life. I knew missionaries who worked in Indian schools up north.
Today I reflect, and I invite you to join with me in reflection.
The world has changed, is changing. I am an agent of change. We are agents of change.
It is often hard to know how to use my privilege to make the world a better place, for me and you...
and I am reminded of Mari's reminder to me that my guilt does no good, so I live with privilege and I make choices out of that privilege.
I make choices with the knowledge that old and new relationships hold me.
I make choices with the confidence that Margaret Mead is right.
I do not doubt that a small group of committed people can make a difference, I know it is the only thing that ever has.
Join me in making a difference and in celebrating the positive difference others are making, even if, even when their choices are different than yours... and thanks for reading my early morning musings from my wonderful space here on the porch on West Street.
gkn July 2, 2019
Together we celebrated friendship that crossed barriers of time and space, together we celebrated the gift of living in Canada. We discussed climate change, our grandchildren, our immigrants histories, our hopes, our fears. We shared food, lots of food, we walked, we sat, we smelled the roses ( literally, this cool damp spring has created happy roses!). We laughed, oh how we laughed. Some of us dove into georgian bay refreshed by the balm of healing waters, some of us just walked along side, and some stayed at the house, reading, relaxing, napping.
We celebrated Canada day 2019.
A few days before that I found myself sitting on a peaceful back porch at the home of an indigenous elder sharing our stories of life. We sat together in silence and in conversation, we sat with the chipmunks and the dragon flies ( there were not many mosquitos). We were born only months apart from one another. We shared some experiences in our early lives, we had many different experiences. No one in my family was a residential school survivor.
I went to a one room school for my first four years of my education. I found arrow heads in the fields on my farm, I collected them. I did not know the first peoples who had lived on our farm, no one told me stories of them. The indigenous settlement that was unearthed when a highway was being built near the farm I grew up on was cause for curiosity in my life. I knew missionaries who worked in Indian schools up north.
Today I reflect, and I invite you to join with me in reflection.
The world has changed, is changing. I am an agent of change. We are agents of change.
It is often hard to know how to use my privilege to make the world a better place, for me and you...
and I am reminded of Mari's reminder to me that my guilt does no good, so I live with privilege and I make choices out of that privilege.
I make choices with the knowledge that old and new relationships hold me.
I make choices with the confidence that Margaret Mead is right.
I do not doubt that a small group of committed people can make a difference, I know it is the only thing that ever has.
Join me in making a difference and in celebrating the positive difference others are making, even if, even when their choices are different than yours... and thanks for reading my early morning musings from my wonderful space here on the porch on West Street.
gkn July 2, 2019
