Reflections on A Passing Year

 "All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on." - Havelock Ellis

December 27 - the dying days of 2015.  At the end of last year, my hope was for a restoration to health, an improvement in my business fortunes and a reconnection to some loved ones who had retreated from my life.

My health is marginally better than it was at this time last year.  I'm still in physio every two weeks and I still haven't managed to get to an appointment without the need for a major realignment of my back.  Though I was assured last June by a leading specialist that I would be back in high heels in a matter of weeks, I am not.  The longer my back issues persist, the more I am becoming resigned to the idea that I will probably never again wear the hundreds of pairs of beautiful shoes that I have.  It is time to let go.

My hopes that Courtney would find a place for me in her life were also dashed.  She has been  brutally clear that she has no desire to see me again.  I was wrong to believe that she had come to care for me separate from her relationship with my son.  That she lived in my house for much of three years, that I fed her, clothed her, chauffeured her, edited her school papers and treated her like my very own daughter was ultimately meaningless.  She cares not at all about me, perhaps she never did. As painful as it is, it's time to let go.

Consistent with the adage "Be careful what you wish for", my business soared this year at a pace that has left me breathless.  Life as a consultant is usually feast or famine.  I've seen no famine this year.  I've had far more work than one person can reasonably manage.  I didn't want to turn down work no matter how much pressure it put me under to accept every assignment but I've come to realize that I can no longer keep up this pace.  I'm grateful for the luxury of being able to pick and choose my assignments.  As for the notion that I need to do it all - it's time to let go.

On January 4, Jacob will start his new job.  I am, of course, thrilled for him.  It is the opportunity he was been seeking since graduating eighteen months ago.  He has declared his intention to move out into his own place.  As much as I will miss him, it's time to let go.

Letting go has never been my strong suit.  I need to get a whole lot better at it.  When I write my year end blog next December, I hope I will be able to report that letting go made room for new possibilities, new experiences and new growth.

Happy New Year.

Shattered

"Faith is the strength by which a shattered world shall emerge into the light." - Helen Keller

There is not a joint in my body that isn't aching but it is the sense of being emotionally shattered that I am most struggling with today.  All the Advil in the world can't fix that.

We made the long drive to Brantford for the funeral service of Gail's dad yesterday.  Gail delivered a beautiful and powerful eulogy at the service.  The tributes to her dad's legacy were abundant and lengthy.  As lovely as the service was, I was completely drained by the time we headed back to Toronto.  By rights, I should have gone to Montreal the day before to attend the funeral of Jon's uncle.  I just couldn't find the energy to make the ten hour return trip.  I sent flowers, prayers and love knowing it was not enough but this week it was the best that I could do.

I have more work than I can handle these days, for which I am most grateful.  But I've had to make some hard choices and face some hard truths.  At sixty years old, I don't have a lot of 60 hour work weeks in me.  As much as I hate to do it, I have to let some things go.  I will finish up with the private clients I have but barring an unusual circumstance, I won't be taking on new ones.  The work can be rewarding but it is rarely lucrative and it is most always draining.  I will continue my work with corporate clients who are demanding enough and focus my energy on my bread and butter clients.  I'll only be accepting new corporate clients if the work they need done is interesting or fun.  I'm happy to do training, mentoring and executive coaching.  I will do investigations, program building and H.R. strategy.  But my days of going into companies to do the messiest, ugliest, scariest terminations are done.  I'm retiring my hatchet.

 

There is much to do in these short weeks until Christmas.  I have yet to do any shopping.  Jacob has landed a new job beginning in January.  Unlike most businesses, the dress code in the department he will be working in is still quite formal.  So I will be concentrating most of my shopping on getting him a couple of new suits and sports jackets.  Other than that, I will focus my efforts on the kids in the family - not that there are many.  I will get the house decorated over the next couple of weeks.  I decided on a white feather theme this year to remind us that our guardian angels are always near.  Given the state of the world, we can use all the angels we can get.

Grief

 "I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge.  That myth is more potent than history.  That dreams are more powerful than facts.  That hope always triumphs over experience.  That laughter is the only cure for grief.  And I believe that love is stronger than death." - Robert Fulghum

Perhaps it is the time of year that makes things feel worse.  Grief in a season of joy seems magnified.  On Monday, Gail's dad passed away after a long battle with heart disease.  He was ninety-four.  She is devastated.  Even when we know the loss of a loved one is coming, there is no way to steel oneself against the pain when it occurs.

On Tuesday, we learned that Jon's uncle, Josee's brother, had also passed away.  Apparently he dropped his children off at school, returned home, laid on the couch and died.  No illness.  No warning.  He was fifty-three.  Devastation doesn't even begin to describe the grief of his family.

I was already feeling blue before the news of these deaths.  The state of the world seems bleak.  I've tried turning off the news and stopped giving the front page of the newspaper more than a perfunctory glance.  Nonetheless, I can't seem to escape from it.  The mass shooting in California last night hit me hard. I heard about it sitting in the dining room at my mom's nursing home.  I don't understand anything anymore.

Normally I would turn to prayer in these times of darkness.  But as the New York Daily News wrote in their headline this morning - God isn't fixing this.   I'm struggling to find hope and laughter.

My Prayer

Dear God,

In the wake of so much conflict and sadness in the world, I find myself slipping into a dark place.  Please help me to find my way back to the light.  Please help me not to judge those who are making me angry with their views, though they differ from my own.  Please help me to accept that we are all doing the best we can.  Please help me to do my best.

Everytime I hear another person say that we shouldn't allow the Syrian refugees to come into Canada, I want to cry.  I want to rail at them for what seems to be their heartlessness and mean-spiritedness.  In my heart of hearts, I know mostly they are just afraid.  Please God, help them not to be afraid. 

Please help us to embrace one another.  Help us to find the things that bind us as humans.  Help us to understand that it is not skin colour or religion or place of birth that separates us, but rather fear, greed and hatred. Remind us that you did not draw the lines around the countries on the map but created the world for all of us to share.  Help us to find our better instincts. 

Help us to accept what is inevitably coming our way and let it bring out the best in us, rather than the worst.  Help us to be helpers, to provide comfort and refuge to all your children who need it.  Help us to remember that we are all your children.

Please forgive us when we fail.  Help us to pick ourselves up each time we fall, learn from our mistakes and try again. 

Thank you for the many blessings you have bestowed upon me.  For being born in a safe and free country.  For access to education, employment, health care, potable water, shelter, transit and food.  Thank you for family and friends.  I will try to be worthy of these gifts.

Love
Jackie

Heartsick

 "If you have men who will exclude any of God's creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men." - St. Francis of Assisi

 

The older I get, the less and less I seem to understand the world.  The events of last night in Paris are so far outside my sphere of understanding that I'm not even trying.  My visceral reaction to the news was to feel sick.  Sick to my stomach.  Sick to my core.

Before the Paris attacks, I tried hard to bury my horror over the attacks in Beirut. Our part of the world paid little attention to those terrorist attacks.  But another attack on Paris would get our attention. The loss of European lives would hit close to home.  I tried hard through a long wakeful night after the news came from Paris, to convince myself that Canadians wouldn't go where I feared they would go but it was only a few hours into the day when I saw my worst fears realized.  

Yesterday, the annual Fall Fair was held at my mom's nursing home.  As we have done for the last eleven years, my sisters and I ran the jewellery department at the fair. Other than at the fair, I seldom see the group of women who volunteer at the nursing home.  My mom doesn't attend the activities anymore.  They are a lovely group of women, most twenty years my senior.  One of the loveliest women, Anna, took a few moments out of our very hectic preparation time to chat with me and get caught up on the happenings of the last year.  In addition to her volunteer work at the nursing home, Anna has been working at her church on their project to sponsor six families of Syrian refugees.  They should arrive in Canada before the end of this year.  After the attacks in Paris on Friday night, Anna is having second thoughts. She's thinking that maybe we shouldn't let them in.  What if they are terrorists?  I felt the knot in my stomach growing.

Earlier this year I reconnected with an old friend.  When I posted on my Facebook page a few weeks ago that I have created a new line of jewellery that I am selling for Syrian refugee relief, she was one of the first people to message me with an order.  Today, she posted a petition on her Facebook page, imploring the Canadian government to ban the entry of Syrian refugees.  It felt like a gut punch.  

In less than six weeks, it will be Christmas.  We live in a huge and prosperous country.  Are we really prepared to tell these refugees that there is no room at the inn?  Are we prepared to let terrorists define who we are?  We are Canadians.  We have more than we need.  Let's build a longer table not a higher fence.

Ten Years of Profound Gratitude

"Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed.  Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude." - Denis Waitley

Ten years ago today, I spent a long, sleepless night praying for time.  In the early morning hours of November 9, I would head to Princess Margaret for surgery.  It was step one in my breast cancer journey.  I was scared, to be sure.  I didn't want the pain, but I've had enough experience with pain during my life to know I could handle it.  I didn't want the disfigurement but I have enough scars to know I would eventually stop seeing it.  What worried me most was that I might not wake up from surgery and that anguish is what filled my thoughts that night.  I asked God over and over, for the time to raise my son.  Jacob was only fourteen.

My prayers were answered.  Jacob is grown now and I have had ten years of joy watching him become an extraordinary man. I got exactly what I asked for.  A couple of nights ago, I found myself praying again.  I am profoundly grateful for the gift of these ten years but I want more time.  A lot more time.  I want to dance at Jacob's wedding.  I want to hold my grandchildren.  I want to revel in retirement.  I want to see Paris, Sydney and Tokyo.  I want to finish the book I've been working on in dribs and drabs for the past five years.  I want to grow old.

Every morning for these past ten years, I have awoken with gratitude.  Every morning I have started my day with whispered thanks for the time.  I am so lucky.  I am so thankful.  I am so blessed.

Justin

“A country can be great not in spite of its diversity, but because of its diversity. When people come together to create opportunities for one another, the dreams we hold in common will crowd out the fears that would divide us.” - Justin Trudeau

It is as if the country has had a collective case of amnesia and yesterday Canadians woke up and remembered who we are.  In a breathtaking wave of red, Justin Trudeau's Liberals ousted Stephen Harper's Conservatives. Gone are the days of the politics of hate and fear.  

For some of us, what has happened in our country these last years has been bewildering.  We are a nation of immigrants who shuttered our borders.  We are a mosaic of people, proud of our multiculturalism who became obsessed about what was on women's heads instead of what was in them.  We are a nation with a huge social conscience who cut services to our most marginalized people.  We are a nation of lakes and oceans, mountains and plains, trees and tundra, arguably the most beautiful land on Earth and we stopped protecting our environment.

Yesterday, the winds of change blew across our land and today we woke up to a kinder, gentler Canada.  The true north, strong and free.