Sharing My World 29

imageDeja Vu. By some happy fluke this picture looks great on one of my yellow walls and goes well with an arrangement my sister did for me eons ago because I don’t have any talent for that kind of thing, but you can’t be good at everything, right?

What an awkward picture of mostly wall.  This is why I admire good photographers.

Share Your World 2015 Week 20

What is the most important thing that you ever learned? (I bet it’s not something you learned in school)

Nope, but I wish I could have studied all things Eckhart Tolle in school.  Then I would have known how to live in the moment without worrying about what happened yesterday or what might happen tomorrow.  How to be fully present and love exactly what I’m doing, right here and right now.  Acceptance of what is, without futile resistance.  Knowing the calm and joyful beautiful me, and the life underneath the life situation.

What feeds your enthusiasm for life?

My family, near and far.  My writing, good and bad.  My art, wonderful or weird.  Reading.  Coffee.  Netflix.  (Well, I did leave that one for last.)

What’s your most memorable (good or bad) airplane commercial or private flight?

I wonder if I have some kind of strange comprehension problem, because when I first read that question I thought I was supposed to come up with my favourite airplane commercial.  But, it’s okay, I get it now.  There have been many memorable flights in my life so I’m going to give you a little list.

1.  My very first flight was in 1975 from Toronto to Winnipeg with my one year old daughter.  So it was her first flight too.  Kind of amazing that I had never been on an airplane before that.

2.  Our first flight into the Arctic (Cambridge Bay) where we landed in the middle of frozen white nowhere. Brrrr.

3.  Flying into Pangnirtung where the approach is between two cliffs and I swear the wing tips almost scrape them both.  Just Google images for “landing in Pangnirtung” if you think I’m kidding.

4.  Flying into Rankin Inlet in some tiny little plane in a crazy howling wind and skidding sideways on the tarmac.  Turbulence on the ground was worse than in the air.  Okay, I had a lot of Gravol before that flight, so my recollection may be a little hazy.

5.  The flight from Edmonton to Toronto (en route to Scotland) when the engines stopped making noise on our approach.  No one else in the plane appeared to be concerned about this.  So I assumed I had gone deaf.  Turned out it was plugged ears from a wicked head cold.  But it didn’t clear up until we were headed home, so I shouted at my sister for the entire two weeks.

If you were a great explorer, what would you explore?

Parallel universes in a time machine. With a couple of adventurous spirit guides. Then I would write about my most memorable experiences.  And maybe draw you some pictures.

Bonus question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

Its been a nice quiet uneventful lazy week with some creative spurts thrown in, and I am looking forward to more of the same.  Is that boring?  Do I look bored to you?  It was the photo of the wall that gave it away, wasn’t it.

 

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For Compassion #1000Speak

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“How would your life be different if…

You stopped making negative judgmental assumptions about people you encounter?

Let today be the day…

You look for the good in everyone you meet and respect their journey.”

Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free   

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This is my contribution to the unique global movement called 1000 Voices for Compassion. Today, the 20th February 2015, over 1000 bloggers worldwide are publishing posts about compassion. It is an effort to spread goodness and compassion in a world torn by strife and violence. Spread the love using the hashtag #1000Speak. Join the 1000 Voices Speak for Compassion group on Facebook.

 

Sharing My World 16

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Share Your World 2015 Week 4

Where did you live at age five?  Is it the same place or town you live now?

The year I was five we moved from one farm to another one.  Of the first farm I have relatively few memories, except that it was close to grandmas, it was a very long walk from the house to the barn and I was not allowed to go there on my own, and in the house we could run around in a big circle from the kitchen, past the stairs, through the living room and back to the kitchen.  There was a hand pump for water in the kitchen and a dark shed (where the dog lived) attached to the back door.

The new farm, to my five-year-old mind, was utopia in comparison.  The run in circles was twice as long, through the dining room, past the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen, past the basement stairs and back to the dining room.  We could also run up the front stairs and down the back ones, and from the front lawn to the side lawn to the back lawn, across the driveway and another side lawn and back to the front.  Obviously, running around in circles at this stage in my life was extremely important to me.

A lot of family still lives in that area so I go back to visit frequently, but I haven’t lived there, or in that province, for over 40 years.

Did you grow up in a small or big town? Did you like it?

Our farm was in the midst of many small-town Ontario towns, but I consider the one where I went to high school as my home town.  It was on the shores of Lake Huron, had amazing sunsets, and filled up with beach-going tourists in the summer.  I liked it just fine.

As a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Hey, I still haven’t decided.  I was very good at running, with all that practice, and won lots of races in elementary school, so being an Olympic runner crossed my mind.  Then I became a lazy teenager who ran one relay race at one track and field meet (we came in second) and my ambitions shifted to obtaining my driver’s license and getting the hell off the farm.  After that, my plans were always rather vague.  University, teachers college, meeting interesting men, going to parties.  (I wonder for priorities sake if I should have put all that in reverse order.)

You are invited to a party that will be attended by many fascinating people you never met.  Would you attend this party if you were to go by yourself?

Sure.  I will be one of those fascinating people in attendance.  Just hopefully no one asks me what I want to be when I grow up.

Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

I am grateful for our amazing weather, pretty much unheard of for here in a normal January.  I know there’s a lot more winter to come, but this has been a lovely little break in the middle.  A long cold month which usually drags on forever has turned out to be pleasantly quick in passing by.

Next week I’m going to see an audiologist.  All that running around in circles as a child probably damaged my ear drums somehow,  and I’m paying for it now.  I think I can hear just fine until people mumble at me on the phone, or garble some strange nonsense from another room, or when I decide I can’t understand what people in movies are saying without subtitles across the bottom of the screen.  Yep, it’s time.

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Be Bendy

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Perhaps nothing was ever “meant to be.” There was just life, and right now, and doing your best. Being a bit “bendy.”

― Liane Moriarty, The Husband’s Secret

For One-Liner Wednesday 

I was going to skip posting today, but then I read some answers to this prompt and thought, hey, I can write just one line!  But apparently I have to write more than one, in order to write just one.  Good thing the rules are bendy.

Art du Jour 29

imageI have taken my own advice and gotten serious for a minute. This is a portrait of the famous W.  Perhaps his own children won’t recognize him, but that’s okay. I’m rather proud of this labour of love.

When I showed it to him he knew who it was and laughed.  I took that as a good sign that I hadn’t traumatized him for life.

Yesterday W came across a picture on Facebook of someone we haven’t seen for over thirty years and remarked that he looks awful.  He doesn’t really, he just looks old, because, well, he’s old.  We see our own changes gradually, and are often shocked at the changes in other people with whom we’ve lost touch.  Inside I feel like I’ve never left my thirties, but the mirror tells a different story.

So this is not the face I married, although he’s in there somewhere.  I’m going to hang on to this until we’re in our nineties and then show it to him again so we can both see how handsome he was way back in the day.  This is of course supposing we both live that long and can still see and remember where we put things.

I was looking at celebrity high school yearbook pictures on some Facebook site (yes, we both have way too much time on our hands these cold dreary January days) and the captions were statements of disbelief and what happened?  Well, time happened, you idiot caption writer.

Here’s to time and the wonderful changes it makes to our life-well-lived faces.