The world watched in horror as the democratic country of Ukraine was attacked last week. By someone who has been labelled as a bully on a global scale.
There were many scenes of tanks and guns and explosions shared in the media. But the thing that stood out the most to me was the quiet bravery of regular folks. Taking up arms to protect their neighbourhoods. Taking down street signs to confuse the intruders. Even President Zelenskyy, when offered assistance to leave Ukraine safely by foreign leaders, answered by saying, “I need ammunition, not a ride.” Continue reading
I just finished reading a book called Migrations by Charlotte McConaghy. It was about family heartache, loss, disfunction, passion and love in all it’s undefinable forms.
The story centres on a certain bird. McConaghy writes through character Franny Stone, “The Arctic tern has the longest migration of any animal. It flies from the Arctic all the way to the Antarctic, and then back again within a year. This is an extraordinarily long flight for a bird its size. And because the terns live to be thirty or so, the distance they will travel over the course of their lives is the equivalent of flying to the moon and back three times.” Continue reading
I saw a meme on social media last week. Jenny Nordbak wrote, “My three year old said goodnight to all of us tonight and then in the dark I heard her little voice say, ‘Goodnight myself. I love you. [pause] I love you too.’ Don’t let anyone take that from you little one.”
What an innocent example of self-love. How do we lose it as we grow older? When does the story we tell ourselves about ourselves become less empathetic? When does it start to comment on how we look, how successful we are, what we do and don’t have? Continue reading
I’m reading Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach and she writes, “In one of the legends of the Holy Grail, Parsifal, a young knight on a quest, wanders into a parched and devastated land where nothing grows. When he arrives at the capital of this wasteland, he finds the townspeople behaving as if everything were normal. They are not wondering, ‘What horror has befallen us?’ or ‘What can we do?’ Rather, they are dull and mechanical, as if under a spell. Continue reading