"There's a lot of beauty in ordinary things. Isn't that kind of the point?"
This was the last line, uttered by Pam, in the American version of "The Office" season finale. She's right.
This morning I watched an ordinary and beautiful scene unfold before me while I was stopped at a red light. I watched a mom and her daughter cross the street together on what I assume was on their way to school. They hugged (the mom hugged with both arms, the daughter with just one) and although I didn't hear exactly what she said as the daughter walked away, I imagine it was, "Be careful. Watch out for cars! Don't be late!" The daughter, pulling her backpack snug across her shoulders, walked confidently away down the street and the mom just stood on the corner, watching her. I rolled down my window just in time to hear her shout, "I love you!" and then quietly to herself, "You will never know how much."
My light changed and I had to proceed, but when I looked in my rear view mirror, I saw her still standing there, probably watching until she could not see her daughter anymore.
Parenting is hard, even though it is full of beautiful moments. That mom, like most parents, wanted to enclose her girl in a protective bubble with her hug and her words but in the end she had to let her go. I felt privledged to have witnessed this beautiful parenting moment, in all its vulnerability.
wishing you beauty in ordinary things,
hk
Thursday 30 May 2013
Wednesday 29 May 2013
Powwow day!
Is it just me, or are there any other parents out there who are sick, I repeat SICK of making lunches?
For many reasons, including my disability's limitations and our commitment to not adhering to stereotypical gender roles, our household duties are pretty much equally divided. And yet, I am still stuck making lunches. I'm just weary of coming up with ideas for lunch, of what can be easily packed and eaten, of meeting the goal of simplicity, but also being creative so no one gets bored, and I'm resentful of the time it takes to make them at night when I just want to sleep.
So when Chelsea phoned from school this morning to say that she had forgotten her lunch and could I bring it to her, I was grumpy at having to disrupt my schedule in order to bring her the lunch that I grumpily made. She met me at the front of the school with a huge smile on her face, and the first thing she said was, "Just in the nick of time, Mom, because we are getting ready to go to the Powwow! It's Powwow day! Woohoo! Maybe we will get to do a round dance!"
I shook my head, my grumpiness over such a petty thing as lunch dissipated. Although I grew up in a community with many First Nations kids and close to many reserves, I had never had a chance to go to a Powwow, and the way things were at the time, if I had been given that chance, I probably thought it would be weird. However, working in student services on the University of Saskatchewan campus next door to the Aboriginal Student's Centre, I went to my first Powwow as an adult. I was even asked to participate in the Grand Entry once. A great honour.
Powwows have a deep and resilient history and they reflect the struggles that First Nations people had in order to retain their traditions and spiritual beliefs. They are a source of identity, and the celebration of community. I think it is impossible to not feel that community, that sense of belonging to something bigger than yourself when you participate in a Powwow. And here my daughter was not only going, but bursting-at-the-seams excited to go. Her mind and heart so open, I changed from being the grumpy bear with the grumpy lunch and found beauty where I least expected it.
Check it out. You can even watch it live.
http://students.usask.ca/current/aboriginal/powwow/
wishing you a beautiful lunch,
hk
For many reasons, including my disability's limitations and our commitment to not adhering to stereotypical gender roles, our household duties are pretty much equally divided. And yet, I am still stuck making lunches. I'm just weary of coming up with ideas for lunch, of what can be easily packed and eaten, of meeting the goal of simplicity, but also being creative so no one gets bored, and I'm resentful of the time it takes to make them at night when I just want to sleep.
So when Chelsea phoned from school this morning to say that she had forgotten her lunch and could I bring it to her, I was grumpy at having to disrupt my schedule in order to bring her the lunch that I grumpily made. She met me at the front of the school with a huge smile on her face, and the first thing she said was, "Just in the nick of time, Mom, because we are getting ready to go to the Powwow! It's Powwow day! Woohoo! Maybe we will get to do a round dance!"
I shook my head, my grumpiness over such a petty thing as lunch dissipated. Although I grew up in a community with many First Nations kids and close to many reserves, I had never had a chance to go to a Powwow, and the way things were at the time, if I had been given that chance, I probably thought it would be weird. However, working in student services on the University of Saskatchewan campus next door to the Aboriginal Student's Centre, I went to my first Powwow as an adult. I was even asked to participate in the Grand Entry once. A great honour.
Powwows have a deep and resilient history and they reflect the struggles that First Nations people had in order to retain their traditions and spiritual beliefs. They are a source of identity, and the celebration of community. I think it is impossible to not feel that community, that sense of belonging to something bigger than yourself when you participate in a Powwow. And here my daughter was not only going, but bursting-at-the-seams excited to go. Her mind and heart so open, I changed from being the grumpy bear with the grumpy lunch and found beauty where I least expected it.
Check it out. You can even watch it live.
http://students.usask.ca/current/aboriginal/powwow/
wishing you a beautiful lunch,
hk
Monday 27 May 2013
Where You Least Expect It: Uncovering the Beautiful in Every Day: Being of One's Hour
Where You Least Expect It: Uncovering the Beautiful in Every Day: Being of One's Hour: Although it is supposed to be in the eye of the beholder, when I type "beauty" in a search engine, what comes up the most are webs...
Being of One's Hour
Although it is supposed to be in the eye of the beholder, when I type "beauty" in a search engine, what comes up the most are websites and blogs about women's hair, makeup, and fashion. Those things definitely have something to do with it, but isn't beauty so much more than that? Wikipedia defines beauty as, "a characteristic of a person, animal, place, object, or idea that provides a perceptual experience of pleasure or satisfaction." Hmmmm...a perceptual experience of pleasure. There's that beholder idea I was looking for.
This captures my feeling last week as I addressed a group of young people with disabilities at a conference called, "On Your Way." These young men and women were beautiful - keen, enthusiastic, hopeful, and optimistic. The topic they asked me to speak to was self-advocacy, and I spoke about the 5 tools I felt one needs in order to be strong and assertive in a world that is not designed for, or often friendly to people with disabilities. When I announced my first tool, Self-Worth, I knew I had struck a chord when I looked at several conference-goers and saw deep-seated emotion: grateful smiles, acknowledging nods, and painful tears. I told them that self-worth is the most important tool they could carry because in this life there may not always be someone who is there to remind them about how great they are, and how they are worth fighting for. From those smiles, nods, and tears that I saw as I spoke, I think they heard me when I urged them to cultivate a value for themselves that is not dependent on the opinion of others, to work hard on the belief that they are beautiful, valuable people, especially during the inevitably difficult times that will come their way.
Trouble is, this is easier said than done. And more trouble is, everyone I have ever known has struggled with this at some point(s) in their life, and this struggle has also been, and continues to be mine. One way I know that helps at least for me, is taking care of myself. For a lot of reasons, I am only learning now, at 43 years old, to do this. I have not, to use an Oprah-ism, been good at putting myself on the list. For me, taking care of my mind and spirit means many things, including, writing, counselling, music, gratitude, meditation, reading, prayer, and spending time with positive, loving folks. Taking care of my body includes: recuperative sleep, showering, eating well, moving my body, breathing deeply, having a wheelchair that actually fits and works, giving time and energy to healing old and new injuries, and paying attention to my hair and the clothes that I wear. None of this is easy, either for me or for anyone else I know, especially those with disabilities because we are living in a world where disabilities are usually far from considered valuable, and are much more often seen as deviant, repulsed, abnormal, avoided, bodies and minds to be deeply feared.
Let me be perfectly clear about one last thing in a blog entry that is already likely too lengthy: the young people I had the privilege to speak to are not beautiful in spite of their disabilities. They are not beautiful in spirit or because of their bravery, or other such stereotypical nonsense that just skirts around the truth. Because the truth is they are beautiful because they are, because they are a part of this world, because of their genuine selves, because of their fascinating, authentic, and often complicated bodies and minds that can be both undeniably weak but amazingly strong. Wikipedia offers further historical insight into beauty that speaks to this: "The Koine Greek's etymological version [of beauty] comes from the word hōra, meaning "hour." So, in Koine Greek, beauty was thus associated with "being of one's hour."6] "Thus, a ripe fruit was considered beautiful, whereas a young woman trying to appear older or an older woman trying to appear younger would not be considered beautiful."
wishing you peace and contentment in your own authentic hour,
hk
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beauty
Some interesting and admirable sites you may want to check out:
http://disabledbeauties.tumblr.com
http://meloukhia.net/2012/10/disability_as_beauty.html
This captures my feeling last week as I addressed a group of young people with disabilities at a conference called, "On Your Way." These young men and women were beautiful - keen, enthusiastic, hopeful, and optimistic. The topic they asked me to speak to was self-advocacy, and I spoke about the 5 tools I felt one needs in order to be strong and assertive in a world that is not designed for, or often friendly to people with disabilities. When I announced my first tool, Self-Worth, I knew I had struck a chord when I looked at several conference-goers and saw deep-seated emotion: grateful smiles, acknowledging nods, and painful tears. I told them that self-worth is the most important tool they could carry because in this life there may not always be someone who is there to remind them about how great they are, and how they are worth fighting for. From those smiles, nods, and tears that I saw as I spoke, I think they heard me when I urged them to cultivate a value for themselves that is not dependent on the opinion of others, to work hard on the belief that they are beautiful, valuable people, especially during the inevitably difficult times that will come their way.
Trouble is, this is easier said than done. And more trouble is, everyone I have ever known has struggled with this at some point(s) in their life, and this struggle has also been, and continues to be mine. One way I know that helps at least for me, is taking care of myself. For a lot of reasons, I am only learning now, at 43 years old, to do this. I have not, to use an Oprah-ism, been good at putting myself on the list. For me, taking care of my mind and spirit means many things, including, writing, counselling, music, gratitude, meditation, reading, prayer, and spending time with positive, loving folks. Taking care of my body includes: recuperative sleep, showering, eating well, moving my body, breathing deeply, having a wheelchair that actually fits and works, giving time and energy to healing old and new injuries, and paying attention to my hair and the clothes that I wear. None of this is easy, either for me or for anyone else I know, especially those with disabilities because we are living in a world where disabilities are usually far from considered valuable, and are much more often seen as deviant, repulsed, abnormal, avoided, bodies and minds to be deeply feared.
Let me be perfectly clear about one last thing in a blog entry that is already likely too lengthy: the young people I had the privilege to speak to are not beautiful in spite of their disabilities. They are not beautiful in spirit or because of their bravery, or other such stereotypical nonsense that just skirts around the truth. Because the truth is they are beautiful because they are, because they are a part of this world, because of their genuine selves, because of their fascinating, authentic, and often complicated bodies and minds that can be both undeniably weak but amazingly strong. Wikipedia offers further historical insight into beauty that speaks to this: "The Koine Greek's etymological version [of beauty] comes from the word hōra, meaning "hour." So, in Koine Greek, beauty was thus associated with "being of one's hour."6] "Thus, a ripe fruit was considered beautiful, whereas a young woman trying to appear older or an older woman trying to appear younger would not be considered beautiful."
wishing you peace and contentment in your own authentic hour,
hk
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beauty
Some interesting and admirable sites you may want to check out:
http://disabledbeauties.tumblr.com
http://meloukhia.net/2012/10/disability_as_beauty.html
Friday 17 May 2013
Tulips
I answered, "I'm having trouble with today's blog entry."
"Why?"
I thought about my week: medical tests, pain, unexpected bills, vehicle breakdowns. I reflected on the news: how the rising cost of food will affect our most vulnerable citizens, rich people hiring guides with disabilities at Disney World so they can jump to the front of line-ups, corrupt politicians, unimaginable violence towards women, 1.5 million refugees fleeing Syria, the murder of who appears to be a good family man, cruelty toward animals, and answered, "I'm feeling sad."
"Well, what should your blog entry be about?"
"Well, the theme of my blog is beauty. Beautiful things, where we don't expect to find them."
"Like tulips," she said without thinking. "Like the tulips that surprise you when they come up in the Spring after a long winter."
Of course she would be able to easily answer. She is a child, not burdened by the stresses of adult life or bruised by this troubled world. But at the same time, of course she is right. There is other news this week too: Chris Hadfield has landed back on earth safely, who said to his nearly 1 million twitter followers, "Space is too good not to share," that scientists have discovered a reservoir of water in the Canadian Shield that is 1.5 billion years old (imagine!), how a community in Los Angeles rallied to help the sick dog of a homeless man and now they both have a safe place to live, and how Spencer West, a double amputee, walked on his hands from Edmonton to Calgary to raise money for clean water projects overseas.
Life is a mix of dark and light, dismal and beautiful. It is our duty as citizens of this world to take care of each other, to hang on to hope, to discover and educate, and to recognize beauty when we see it and feel it.
"Yes. Like tulips."
wishing you a beautiful long weekend,
hk
Wednesday 8 May 2013
Falling Down and Getting Up
It all started out with my desire to get rid of my roots - those pesky silver streaked, mousy brown roots that were dragging me down. I put the colour in and decided to rinse it all out in the shower.
I have become so accustomed to showering, I hardly ever think about soaking in the tub anymore. We bought our deep jacuzzi tub when we bought our house, and I used to enjoy a warm, jetted soak often. However, that was when the stainless steel hardware fused to my spine was still intact, before my shoulder's rotator cuffs had torn, before my wrists had carpal tunnel syndrome, and before when I had some tone and spasm in my legs that would give me a little "bounce" and therefore assistance to my transfers.
But I do not have that body anymore. The stainless steel rods that stabilized my spine for over 25 years broke in the third trimester of my pregnancy with my daughter. It is a long story, but for the purposes of this blog entry I will say that it was the hardest physical trauma I have ever endured and while the surgeries and bone grafting have left me with a stable spine, the strength I lost has not all been recovered, and I no longer have tone and spasm to help with transfers. Additionally, my left shoulder rotator cuff tore 2 years ago and my wrists developed carpal tunnel syndrome so severe that when nerve conduction tests were last done, there were no readings whatsoever- a difficult thing for a paraplegic who has relied on her shoulders and arms to do the job of both her arms and her legs for the last 37 years.
I am telling you this so you will get a better idea of what it meant when I was rinsing out the colour in my hair and I twisted my body around to turn off the taps, and surprised at just how much force was needed to turn off the leaky one, I lost my balance and fell.
The first thing I did was check that nothing was broken. The second thing I did was reach for the sponge and cleanser on the edge of the tub and gave it a good cleaning. The third thing I did was rinse and fill the bathtub with hot water. Then I soaked and while I soaked I thought about how to get out because although I had tub cleaner at my fingertips, I did not have a phone and no one was due home for hours and my daughter would be waiting for me to pick her up from school.
Soon after, I started trying various ways to get up. Now, pure grit and determination have gotten me through many a dire situation in the past, but not this time. My attempts failed over and over and I fell again. My rough guess was that at least 2.5 hours had passed. My heart was beating so hard I could feel my throat pulsing. I started to cry. I kept seeing my little girl waiting for me and not knowing what to do when I did not show up. Visualizing her outside the school waiting, I said over and over, "Just stay there, honey, just stay there, just wait."
And then the strangest thing happened. In the middle of my frantic attempts and my hot tears, a little voice inside me said, "Just stay there. You. Just stay there and wait." So I did. I stayed there. I sat in the water and just breathed and lowered my heart rate and a gentle calm came over me and I thought, "If I want to get out of here, I have one option: to get out of this tub like I used to before the rods broke and my rotator cuff tore and my wrists broke down."
I put everything in place and gave it a try. I was surprised at how close I came. I sat back down in the water, breathed deeply, and this time when I got close I used the grit I had left and succeeded. "I did it," I said out loud, half elated, half surprised.
To me, this story is not about how tough I may or may not be although I am sure it can read that way. For me, this story is about how I thought I had lost who I once was, but had not. She is still here. This story is about how sometimes there is more than one way to do something. It is about listening to my inner sovereign and very literally listening to the beat of my heart and being open to new (and old) possibilities.
I have been a fan of Sarah Slean for years, but today this song has a different significance to me:
"Wanna be free, free to let go
Let all that is good inspire me
And I keep running on empty
Thinking maybe I'll see a sign
But if I open up my heart
Someone will say Amen, Amen."
~ Sarah Slean, "Amen" www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-jKsleZpxc
Today I am darn sore and slow moving, but awake and free like I have not been in some time. I wish the same for you. If you find yourself in a crisis or difficult situation, just stay there for a moment, breathe, and listen. Maybe someone will hear you and say Amen.
wishing you the beauty of an open heart,
hk
p.s. Oh, in case you care, my roots worked out and my hair looks beautiful!
I have become so accustomed to showering, I hardly ever think about soaking in the tub anymore. We bought our deep jacuzzi tub when we bought our house, and I used to enjoy a warm, jetted soak often. However, that was when the stainless steel hardware fused to my spine was still intact, before my shoulder's rotator cuffs had torn, before my wrists had carpal tunnel syndrome, and before when I had some tone and spasm in my legs that would give me a little "bounce" and therefore assistance to my transfers.
But I do not have that body anymore. The stainless steel rods that stabilized my spine for over 25 years broke in the third trimester of my pregnancy with my daughter. It is a long story, but for the purposes of this blog entry I will say that it was the hardest physical trauma I have ever endured and while the surgeries and bone grafting have left me with a stable spine, the strength I lost has not all been recovered, and I no longer have tone and spasm to help with transfers. Additionally, my left shoulder rotator cuff tore 2 years ago and my wrists developed carpal tunnel syndrome so severe that when nerve conduction tests were last done, there were no readings whatsoever- a difficult thing for a paraplegic who has relied on her shoulders and arms to do the job of both her arms and her legs for the last 37 years.
I am telling you this so you will get a better idea of what it meant when I was rinsing out the colour in my hair and I twisted my body around to turn off the taps, and surprised at just how much force was needed to turn off the leaky one, I lost my balance and fell.
The first thing I did was check that nothing was broken. The second thing I did was reach for the sponge and cleanser on the edge of the tub and gave it a good cleaning. The third thing I did was rinse and fill the bathtub with hot water. Then I soaked and while I soaked I thought about how to get out because although I had tub cleaner at my fingertips, I did not have a phone and no one was due home for hours and my daughter would be waiting for me to pick her up from school.
Soon after, I started trying various ways to get up. Now, pure grit and determination have gotten me through many a dire situation in the past, but not this time. My attempts failed over and over and I fell again. My rough guess was that at least 2.5 hours had passed. My heart was beating so hard I could feel my throat pulsing. I started to cry. I kept seeing my little girl waiting for me and not knowing what to do when I did not show up. Visualizing her outside the school waiting, I said over and over, "Just stay there, honey, just stay there, just wait."
And then the strangest thing happened. In the middle of my frantic attempts and my hot tears, a little voice inside me said, "Just stay there. You. Just stay there and wait." So I did. I stayed there. I sat in the water and just breathed and lowered my heart rate and a gentle calm came over me and I thought, "If I want to get out of here, I have one option: to get out of this tub like I used to before the rods broke and my rotator cuff tore and my wrists broke down."
I put everything in place and gave it a try. I was surprised at how close I came. I sat back down in the water, breathed deeply, and this time when I got close I used the grit I had left and succeeded. "I did it," I said out loud, half elated, half surprised.
To me, this story is not about how tough I may or may not be although I am sure it can read that way. For me, this story is about how I thought I had lost who I once was, but had not. She is still here. This story is about how sometimes there is more than one way to do something. It is about listening to my inner sovereign and very literally listening to the beat of my heart and being open to new (and old) possibilities.
I have been a fan of Sarah Slean for years, but today this song has a different significance to me:
"Wanna be free, free to let go
Let all that is good inspire me
And I keep running on empty
Thinking maybe I'll see a sign
But if I open up my heart
Someone will say Amen, Amen."
~ Sarah Slean, "Amen" www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-jKsleZpxc
Today I am darn sore and slow moving, but awake and free like I have not been in some time. I wish the same for you. If you find yourself in a crisis or difficult situation, just stay there for a moment, breathe, and listen. Maybe someone will hear you and say Amen.
wishing you the beauty of an open heart,
hk
p.s. Oh, in case you care, my roots worked out and my hair looks beautiful!
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