When Friends Struggle

I was thinking today about the fine line between being helpful and being overbearing. Sometimes it's hard to know exactly where that line exists. This is especially true when I see members of my  community struggling with mental illness and/or depression.

Usually they feel the stigma that's long been attached to a disability that is not visible to the naked eye. There's no bone to set, no muscle spasms to massage away, no incision to heal. The cause of the illness is often anybody's guess. Anything from a repressed past, to a chemical imbalance, a build-up of long held inner stress, or a combination of all of the above.

When I run into them or call, I feel like it's so trite to ask, "How are you?" or even, "I'm praying for you". Each person is different and reacts differently to how I might support them. Or the same person will react differently from one time to another. Saying that they're in my daily prayers meets with a positive reaction one time, and a 'look' another time. One person still believes that God is walking alongside them somehow, somewhere - while the other has given up on a God who doesn't seem to be anywhere present.

Sometimes just being present, in silence, is the best thing, although it can feel pretty awkward. Any of us who have gone through tough stuff know that having someone available is a gift.  It may be good to admit that I'm at a loss to help, although we want to. Asking what we can do may be the right thing.  Or just doing something practical could be the best - bring a meal, invite them out for coffee, offer to do some daily chores that are overwhelming. It all boils down to being sensitive to what we notice, who the person is, and what my heart is telling me.

And I guess that maybe sometimes feeling helpless is what life is about. As long as feeling helpless doesn't become justification to leave them all alone.

O Canada!

Yesterday I attended a Remembrance Day Service at the local Cenotaph. I hadn't been for a few years, and was surprised by the attendance numbers. Perhaps people came out in a show of patriotism after the shooting at Ottawa's cenotaph and in Quebec a few weeks ago. With global terrorism incidents so regular in our news, it strikes me over and over again how blessed I am to be a Canadian citizen.

Ours is a country that truly strives for respect of all races, colors, faiths and nationalities. I'm proud of that.  Ours is also a country that steps in to work for peace. I'm proud of that too. I'm grateful for our military troops, for our law enforcement and first responders.

I feel so blessed to have been born in this country.  How different life is in parts of the world where children grow up with strong biases against certain groups, where violence is the norm, or where poverty keeps children or sometimes just girls from getting a decent education, health care or proper nutrition. I could have been born in a country where children are taught to bear arms - and use them - at an early age.

Growing up, I somehow supposed that people the world over lived more or less like I did. What a naive assumption that was! How much I have learned - and in the learning come to see that, being blessed as I am, I am responsible to be a part of their solution in whatever way i can.

And indeed, I am so grateful for this country. My country.

When we sang "O Canada" at the service yesterday, I had to stop singing for the lump that formed in my throat. God, keep our land glorious and free...

Apologies

I was listening to Stuart McLean on CBC this morning - The Vinyl Cafe series.

I've always enjoyed his work. He's informing, thought-provoking, funny, his sense of timing is impeccable, and he's believable. I think most Canadians who listen to his stories respect McLean for the being a loyal Canadian who often brings out the lighter side of our nationality while exposing our vulnerabilities.

This morning, McLean offered an apology for how he came across in one of his previous broadcasts. Before offering his own apology, McLean spoke highly of Prime Minister Harper's admission of wrong and apology to the Canadian First Nations for the treatment they received in residential schools over more than a century. McLean also talked about the Australian Government, taking it a step further with their Aboriginal People by declaring an annual 'Sorry Day', to remember the wrongs committed and put some traction to their apology.

Listening to McLean's apology - something that, quite frankly, was an anomaly for the program - gave me greater respect for the man as a writer and human being. He spoke of writing, and how writers do what they do to release the thoughts and ideas within themselves, and also to bring greater awareness of history and current events to their readers. I had some 'Yes!' moments as I resonated with his comments.

McLean's own admission of insensitivity made me realize that no matter how loved or accomplished we are in what we do - as writers, communicators - we are bound to make mistakes. Other people will come forward to challenge our ideas, our assumptions or our attempts to present issues in a specific light. This is not a bad thing. I liked McLean's comment that he was given "pause".

Sometimes our errors are, in hindsight, embarrassing. We look back, smack our forehead with our palm, and ask ourselves, "How could I have done that?" Other times, we realize we've committed errors by not thinking things through from all angles.  And there are always many.

Just this week, I was bemoaning the fact that I had made a blunder. In retrospect, I'm still not sure how I managed to do it, yet I, like McLean had been unwittingly insensitive to someone through my writing.

My ever-supportive husband recognized my need for a hug, and reminded me that he, too, struggles when he makes mistakes in his work. We feel like we should know better. We're hard on ourselves. But taking 'pause' is important. Considering how I have annoyed or hurt someone is humbling.

Writing is risky. Following our heart and dreams is risky. Sometimes we'll look ridiculous in the opinion of others.

Is it worth it? Definitely. Anything worth doing demands a striving for excellence and has its own rewards.

Taking responsibility for what I say and do gives me credibility as a human being, humility as a writer and earns the respect of others if I'm sincere in my apology and learn from my blunders. We'll never be perfect this side of Heaven.  That said, I still hate making mistakes.

Zombies and Miracles

When I heard a radio ad about the annual Zombie Walk in Vancouver last week, I got to thinking about how some people get their 'kicks'. I, for one, don't get it. To me there's nothing lovely, attractive, beautiful or compelling about dressing up like the 'walking dead' with blood smeared all over my face and body.

I considered posting a picture of the heinous costumes and make-up, but I couldn't do it. Not even to give you an idea of what this looks like. It's just too...gruesome and truthfully, the pictures sicken me, as I'm sure they're meant to.

I find it incredulous that people actually enjoy playing around with the ugliness of death, deformity, mutilation, gore and decay. Where's the attraction? Innocent fun? Really?

One of the rules for the Vancouver Zombie Walk states: 'Though we big kids all see the fun in it, small children may not, and if you see any children reacting fearfully, please do not add to their distress. Just move on and let their parents explain … do NOT accidentally be the douche who gives them nightmares for a week by leering in their face.'

So what, exactly, do the parents explain? What would I say to my grandkids if we didn't know this was going on and happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Ah,... kids, this is just some big people having a bit of fun.  Just try to forget what you saw...put it out of your head so you don't have nightmares...?

I ask myself, what is this - an example of the human spirit's propensity for being drawn to the darkness that seeks to destroy them? A preoccupation with death as the ultimate experience, perhaps? Or is it to engage in an 'other-world experience'? Something out of the ordinary?

Maybe they're just trying to find a way to connect with the physical death that inevitably will come at some point for each of us.

For some reason, I'm drawn to things that are intrinsically beautiful and lovely. I'm also drawn to the power that exchanges ugliness for beauty. To experience this kind of power is the ultimate experience. No greater power exists than the power of Jesus, who lived to bring healing, joy, life and hope to those who needed it most. I'm counting on coming out of the grave, too...but not in the form of a zombie. I'm coming out with a glorious new form - pure, clean and glorious.


Today I went online to Bible Gateway to prepare for a women's group I meet with. I read an interview with Dr. Mark Batterson (https://www.biblegateway.com/blog/2014/09/god-still-performs-miracles-an-interview-with-mark-batterson/), about his book, The Grave Robber. 

 In his book, Dr. Batterson talks about the life that Jesus gave wherever he went; his power and miracles that are still in evidence today, if we have eyes to see them. He says, 'I offer an important warning at the beginning of the book: don’t seek miracles. Seek Jesus. And if you seek Jesus, you’ll eventually find yourself in the middle of some miracles. Why? Because that’s who Jesus is. That’s what Jesus does'

Now THIS is out of the ordinary in a BIG way! Zombie Walkers, try The Grave Robber on for size!

A Salute to Artists

Sally Mankus, Mixed Media

Many artists have been disparaged or dismissed outright by their families or friends - most likely because the practicality of 'doing' art is difficult. Making a living at it is at very least, risky. In addition to being held in dubious regard by those closest to them, artists will tell you about the self-doubt they struggle with, simply because of the subjectivity of their product. Are they good enough? What if their product doesn't sell? What if something technical goes wrong during the performance? What will the critics say? How will those who matter most, react?

No matter the source, rejection is a bitter pill to swallow. Indifference is no better.

A world without art is unimaginable. Art provides color in an otherwise black-and-white existence. An exquisite sculpture, a thought-provoking painting, a mixed-media piece that reminds us of our history, a book that we can't put down, a musical score that takes our breath away or an intriguing drama that stays with us for days.

As tasty, nourishing food is to the body, good art provides sustenance for the spirit. It exhilarates us, makes us think differently about the world, gives us hope, inspires us, serves to provide valuable introspection, connects us more deeply with God or neighbor, or simply entertains us, allowing us to 'get away' for a few moments or hours. Art can trouble us, stimulate us, and hopefully change us in some way for the better.

Is art essential? Absolutely. Interesting to think that we - especially in our Western bourgeoisie culture - most often favor practical, physical needs over our emotional, spiritual fulfillment. We are known to seize every opportunity to get ahead, working frantically to procure goods and services, forgetting that our spirits need to be fed - indeed, that by feeding them, we become refocused. We slow down, becoming deeper - ever moving towards wholeness.

It is my hope that artists will do their best to ignore the indifference or criticism they encounter for following their calling. May they continue to challenge our thinking, arouse our passions, entertain and delight us. May their goal always be to strive for excellence in their craft, to be bold enough to share their gifts with the world and to surround themselves with those who support them in their often uncertain environment. May they know that the Creator, who fashioned us in His image, has put within each of them their unique imagination for this very purpose.

“What can we say beyond Wow, in the presence of glorious art, in music so magnificent that it can't have originated solely on this side of things? Wonder takes our breath away, and makes room for new breath.” 
 (Ann Lamott, Help Thanks Wow: Three Essential Prayers)

What Constitutes Art?

A conversation with someone in the arts community got me thinking about our concept of art and how most people think about art. In this conversation, we were discussing various examples of creativity when the other person suggested that a garden constitutes art. I suppose I've often thought of art in the garden, but not as the garden being art.

Considering all the work that went into designing and implementing our garden and the time I regularly spend making decisions about which plants to move where - so that the result will be more pleasing to view and inhale - it makes perfect sense that the garden would be regarded as a piece of art.

When we refer to art, most people think of a painting, drawing or sculpture. Mention the arts, and music, drama, poetry and film come to mind. My own definition of art is 'something created - as an expression of an ideal or thought - that is not overtly practical.' That's my first go at it. I'm eager to see what Merriam-Webster's Dictionary says.

       art - the conscious use of skill and creative imagination esp. in the  production of aesthetic objects

We could argue that engaging in the practical  can indeed result in artful results. Cooking can be an art, as can decorating a room or designing and making a piece of furniture.

The person I had the aforementioned conversation with was David Vandas, Publisher and Senior Editor of WeMakeStuff (www.WeMakeStuff.ca).  A second volume of a coffee table book featuring 100 local artists is in the making, with a kickoff on September 14. The community of artists involved with WeMakeStuff support and encourage one other in a passion that is often misunderstood or not understood, especially by those who are not artists themselves. But more about artists in a future blog.

Sometimes art is created to make a statement. Sometimes it is created because of an idea that refused to lie dormant in the imagination. Many times art expresses beauty that resides around us or in us. Sometimes art is unpleasant to encounter, yet to encounter it is transformational.

Today, take a few moments to think about what you have created, and how you have been artful lately.  One of my routine art projects involves strolling around the garden, arranging something of beauty for my table. How about you?

Procrastination and Motivation

I know it sounds silly, but I dressed up this morning, just to sit at my desk and write.

Many a writer's life is plagued with procrastination. Taking a Creative Writing class at Regent, I listened as Maxine Hancock told us this would happen.  We'd do anything to avoid getting our butts in the chair and our fingers onto our pens or computers. I was skeptical then; now I know this to be more true than I would like to admit.

This morning I spent a few hours putting my unruly garden in its place. Deadheading perennials, edging runaway boundaries, pulling endless clover and misplaced grass. When I decided it was time to go inside and get ready for my writing day, I showered and decided to dress professionally, even though I was staying home.

I had just settled myself at my desk when a vehicle drove up - a friend popping by for a few minutes.  When I greeted her at the door, she asked if I was going out. She was puzzled by my 'casual business' attire, and wondered why I would dress this way at home. I supposed it must seem rather bizarre.  I've read Anne Lamott's descriptions of her sweat pants and T-shirt days, which must make business professional somewhat envious now and then. Once in awhile, though, I am motivated by 'getting ready' for work. Some days, dressing like a professional makes me feel like a professional (not to mention that a mid-calf jersey skirt is actually comfortable and good garden wear, should I move outside).

At the Write! Vancouver conference last weekend, we were all made to repeat, aloud, a number of times, "I am a writer". Even though I've been writing for years (I won a song lyrics contest in grade 7) and have been published over the last two, I still often don't consider myself to be one. The title 'Writer' seems so lofty and abstract somehow. Still, that's what I am.

So if you ever stop by on a weekday and I look a little over dressed for what I do, don't pay me any mind. I'm just trying to 'get in the groove'.