(Temporary Backup) Happiness

Happiness is an inside job. 

You’re only as happy as you make your mind up to be. 

Happiness is not having what you want; it’s wanting what you have. 

I know that there a million other clichés about being happy, but these will help me make my point. Although they sound wise, simple and easy, the easy part is BULL SHIT. 

Pardon my language but I need to make the point of this post perfectly clear. As simple as it sounds, the path to happiness is not for wimps. 

This post is not going to be about  cute kittens, Unicorns or rainbows. It is about a battle: the battle for happiness. 

It seems an oxymoron to use the words happiness and battle in the same sentence but there is nothing more true. 

I know that I don’t speak only for myself when I say my life has not gone according to plan. Some of it has far exceeded expectations, but a lot has fell way short. Looking only at the latter can drown me in disappointment, inadequacy and failure. They have a very strong current that is not easy to survive, never mind maneuver. It takes a lot of strength and endurance which can be in short supply. 

The obvious answer is to signal for help, but those feelings themselves make me want to isolate, like being alone is going to somehow save me. I got here by doing it alone, how could it help to stay alone. 

No battle, no war was ever won alone. Other than Canada, Great Britain and the US, 10 other countries sent troops to storm Normandy. Together they began the end of WWII. This is just one example and if none of the military power houses of the time could take down the Nazis on their own, what makes me think I can make it through life without others?  Pride? Fear?

It is easy to see all the strikes against me. I have MS which significantly reduces my ability to do things, like working full time and not needing outside help to stay financially a float. 

My marriage failed and although I know I am not solely to blame, I know I did have a part. I don’t have a house anymore and am unlikely to be able to own one alone. I constantly feel that I’m behind, especially when I see all the accomplishments others my age have achieved. I’m not able to give to my children what I have wanted. And if I don’t force myself to stop, that list can go on forever. 

So I reach out. There is always someone or something. They remind me of all the good things to tally; all the ones that I have forgotten or discounted while sinking in an undertow. 

I loved my ex husband deeply and did my best to make the marriage work. My MS has been stable for many years because I have done my best to take care of my needs. I helped raise two of the most exceptional children that have ever lived. They are two of the best people I know and are changing my world with inspiration every day. I have a part time job that I truly love and feel that I am doing good for a lot of young people; maybe even broadening their horizons. I have people in my life that love and support me and whom I love. 

With all these good things, it should be easy to stay happy. 

But we all know that’s not true. Many people have even more “good” things in their lives and still battle to be happy. So what do we do?

I think the first step to any happiness or peace or serenity must start with acceptance of what is and what isn’t. There are so many things that are totally beyond my control. That includes everything except my behaviour. There is something incredibly empowering when I admit powerlessness. I can focus on me, somewhat guilt free. I’m a Mom so I feel guilty at times.  But I look for progress not perfection.

I will never be an astronaut or a nuclear scientist. But I never wanted to be any way. 

To quote my son, “The people around you who really care have a way of keeping things in perspective.”  I wonder how he got so smart. 

After acceptance, I have to move on to gratitude. Sometimes the list is pretty basic, but if smaller things make you happy, the happier you’ll be. 

I say thank you for the Sun. It warms my face and spirit. 

I say thank you for food and shelter. They keep safe and alive. 

I say thank you for family and friends. They hold me up when I cannot stand on my own. 

I say thank you for a desire to learn. As long as I learn I am being born anew. If I’m not busy being born, I’m busy dying. 

I say thank you for the ability to love and be compassionate. It gives be the opportunity to be loved and experience deep joy. 

With a list like this, why is it hard to stay happy. Because, though I am a spiritual being, I am having a human experience. And as such I falter. I can be blind to the beauty and deaf to the symphony that is my life. 

This is the ultimate battle. To look past the dark and see the light. It is not easy. The darkness can be heavy and paralyzing. The light is there. With acceptance and gratitude for what is and the help of others, its glow is powerful and empowering. 

(Temporary Backup) Happiness

Happiness is an inside job. 

You’re only as happy as you make your mind up to be. 

Happiness is not having what you want; it’s wanting what you have. 

I know that there a million other clichés about being happy, but these will help me make my point. Although they sound wise, simple and easy, the easy part is BULL SHIT. 

Pardon my language but I need to make the point of this post perfectly clear. As simple as it sounds, the path to happiness is not for wimps. 

This post is not going to be about  cute kittens, unicorns or rainbows. It is about a battle: the battle for happiness. 

It seems an oxymoron to use the words happiness and battle in the same sentence but there is nothing more true. 

I know that I don’t speak only for myself when I say my life has not gone according to plan. Some of it has far exceeded expectations, but a lot has fallen short. Looking only at the latter can drown me in disappointment, inadequacy and failure. They have a very strong current that is not easy to survive, never mind maneuver. It takes a lot of strength and endurance which can be in short supply. 

The obvious answer is to signal for help, but those feelings themselves make me want to isolate, like being alone is going to somehow save me. I got here by doing it alone, how could it help to stay alone. 

No battle, no war was ever won alone. Other than Canada, Great Britain and the US, 10 other countries sent troops to storm Normandy. Together they began the end of WWII. This is just one example. If none of the military power houses of the time could take down the Nazis on their own, what makes me think I can make it through life without others?  Pride? Fear?

It is easy to see all the strikes against me. I have MS which significantly reduces my ability to do things, like working full time and not needing outside help to stay financially a float. 

My marriage failed and although I know I am not solely to blame, I know I did have a part. I don’t have a house anymore and am unlikely to be able to own one again. I constantly feel that I’m behind, especially when I see all the accomplishments of others my age have achieved. I’m not able to give to my children what I have want. And if I don’t force myself to stop, that list can go on forever. 

So I reach out. There is always someone or something. They remind me of all the good things to tally; all the ones that I have forgotten or discounted while sinking in an undertow. 

I loved my ex husband deeply and did my best to make the marriage work. My MS has been stable for many years because I have done my best to take care of my needs. I helped raise two of the most exceptional children that have ever lived. They are two of the best people I know and are changing my world with inspiration every day. I have a part time job that I truly love and feel that I am doing good for a lot of young people; maybe even broadening their horizons. I have people in my life that love and support me and whom I love. 

With all these good things, it should be easy to stay happy. 

But we all know that’s not true. Many people have even more “good” things in their lives and still battle to be happy. So what do we do?

I think the first step to any happiness or peace or serenity must start with acceptance of what is and what isn’t. There are so many things that are totally beyond my control. That includes everything except my behaviour. There is something incredibly empowering when I admit powerlessness. I can focus on me, somewhat guilt free. I’m a Mom so I feel guilty at times.  But I look for progress not perfection.

I will never be an astronaut or a nuclear scientist. But I never wanted to be any way. 

To quote my son, “The people around you who really care have a way of keeping things in perspective.”  I wonder how he got so smart. 

After acceptance, I have to move on to gratitude. Sometimes the list is pretty basic, but if smaller things make you happy, the happier you’ll be. 

I say thank you for the Sun. It warms my face and spirit. 

I say thank you for food and shelter. They keep alive and safe. 

I say thank you for family and friends. They hold me up when I cannot stand on my own. 

I say thank you for a desire to learn. As long as I learn I am being born anew. If I’m not busy being born, I’m busy dying. 

I say thank you for the ability to love and be compassionate. It gives be the opportunity to be loved and experience deep joy. 

With a list like this, why is it hard to stay happy. Because, though I am a spiritual being, I am having a human experience. And as such I falter. I can be blind to the beauty and deaf to the symphony that is my life. 

This is the ultimate battle. To look past the dark and see the light. It is not easy. The darkness can be heavy and paralyzing. The light is there. With acceptance and gratitude for what is and the help of others, its glow is powerful and empowering. 

Embrace The Confusion

     

I have often said if I were ever to write an autobiography it would be titled Embrace the Confusion.  In fact, I spend most of my waking hours confused.  If anyone knows me they know that I am not only a fountain of trivial knowledge but, I am also a geyser of questions.  The most commonly asked is why.  

    In fact I drove some high school teachers to distraction with all my questions.  Poor Mr. Dumanski in Grace Nine Science was tortured for an entire term.  This course was an introduction to several topics, including biology, physics and a bit of chemistry.  Mr. Dumanski was patient but apparently I was asking some questions beyond his scope of knowledge.  This didn't in anyway make him a bad teacher.  After all he was teaching the course as a replacement for a teacher on maternity leave.  At some point, I think he became overwhelmed and brought in the head of the science department, Mr. Tucci, to answer some of my questions.  Let's remember, this was science; some times it just is.  I think there is a why to everything, but we just know what it is yet. 

    I asked many questions through out my scholastic career and beyond.  I admit that it has become even more intense in my adulthood.  This is not something of which I am ashamed; in fact, quite the opposite.  I also taught my children to do the same.  Whenever you read, see or hear ANYTHING ask who is saying it; why are they saying it;  and who benefits.  This allows them to make intelligent and some what educated decisions.  The most important skill I had to teach my children was to think.  The world doesn't need blind following drones; it has enough. 

Some of the questions I ask may seem a bit ridiculous, even to me.  Be that as it may, they continue to randomly enter my mind.  Such as:

•    Why does the Pythagorean Theory work? And who truly discovered it?  Pythagora? The Babylonians? The Egyptians?

• What is Goofy? A dog? A cow? Some sort of genetic hybrid?

• What does human history look like to a 200 year old tree?

• Why do moths fly towards the light?  Are they seeking heat or spiritual enlightenment?

    And these are just a few that could pass through my mind in a given day or even an hour.  I guess these would be the more light hearted sort; nonetheless I would like to know the answers.

    

    Not all my questions are so benign.  Human behaviour has always fascinated me and confused me.  For instance:

• Why do people hate? How does it happen? Is it taught? Is it learned? Why can't people see it's destructiveness?

• Why is there war?  Does anything good come from it? If yes, what is it?

• Why does industry seem to think that profits are more important to people?

• What is the benefit of being rich, if the planet is unliveable for the human race?

   My most perplexing questions are of a more personal nature.  It goes way beyond "Why am I here?". I, at least, have a vague idea about that.  But I want to know more. 

• Am I here to learn a lesson or teach a lesson? If yes, what is it? How do I do it?

• Why do my life teachers die before I have learned all I can from them?

• Am I living my life according to God's plan for me? If not, how do I find The Plan?

• Have I have done enough to make the world better? What else can I do? Why does it never feel like I am doing enough?

    I have met many people who move through life with few to no questions about anything.  There is something to be said for the adage that ignorance is bliss.  But I  seem to be anatomically in capable of living that way.  Sometimes, I wish I could.  It seems like it would be a much more peaceful existence.  For me, that is all it would be, existence.  I could not grow.  And this goes against everything I know and feel in my heart and soul.  

    So I had to embrace the confusion.  To accept that I have an instinctual need to know why.  I cannot imagine myself being any other way.  I accept that this is me and regardless of the chaos it may cause, every answer is worth it.  It makes me a better person and affords me the chance to share my knowledge with others. 

That is why I am here.

The Path to Courage.

 The Path to Courage

Courage is ever elusive.

It hides in the light.

A light that is blinding,

Or are we just blind to see it.

It is obscured by circumstances;

Places we have been!

Times we have lived!

Things we have seen!

Making our eyes focus;

Focus on what is, not what could be. 

We do not realize what we can be. 

We stay trapped in what we are.

Imprisoned by false limitations;

Shackled to walls by chains;

The chains of fear and doubt.

Struggling and searching.

Still fearing what we will see.

It is there; it is somewhere; it is everywhere. 

We wander lost in a jungle!

A jungle of of our making!

A jungle we feed everyday!

A jungle ever growing!

We must learn to tame this jungle.

The light we are seeking is within us.

We need only to push fear aside.

The glow is ever present as sure as the Sun.

There to warm us!

There to move us!

There to guide us!

We have only to follow 

Follow as the Star of the Magi.

The fire of hope is bright.

An eternal Flame with in us.

A Flame in our mind!

A Flame in our soul!

A Flame in our spirit!

A Flame burning in our whole self.

We have only to let it consume our disbelief.

Hope cannot live without our attention.

It has a constant need of stoking. 

Hope must be loved!

Hope must be adored!

Hope must be worshipped!

It must be tended with all the passion of our Heart.

Know that Hope will illuminate us.

It can only brighten our World. 

We will see what we are!

We will see what we can be!

We see what we can do!

Hope will always be there if we believe.

Through Hope we discover Faith.

There will be no other choice.

Faith in what we are meant to be!

Faith in what will be our future!

Faith in a future of our creation!

Our Faith must burn bright and strong.

Our Faith will always be under siege;

By our own fear, by our own doubt.

Attacked by the words of others!

Attacked by those who love us!

Attacked by those whom we love!

We must build our Faith and defend it until our last breath.

Our Faith will only lead in one direction;

The direction to all that is good. 

Faith leads to our strength!

Faith leads to our endurance!

Faith leads to our continued resolve!

The road takes us all to Courage.

Courage will only take us to our better self.

We will have no choice.

Courage gives us the desire to change!

Courage gives us the fortitude to change!

Courage gives us the need to change!

With our constant movement forward,

We can only be better.

With every inch, step and leap

We will become our Best.

Hope, Faith and Courage is the only way.

Don't be hindered by fear. 

Break free and make the World a Better place.

(Temporary Backup) Cultural Respect???

I want to preface this entry with the following. I support the idea of inclusiveness. There should be no discrimination based on anything. The judgement of any person should be based on their character. 

I also understand that transgendered persons would like to be seen as the gender with which they identify, not what they may have been assigned at birth. The LGBTQ community should be respected. 

Any culture and faith should be able to practice according to their traditions and within the laws of their country. 

All that being said, I think that some people and organizations may be taking this a bit far. 

The British Museum in London, the National Museum of Scotland and the Great North Museum: Hancock have made a decision regarding the term “Mummy.”  These reputable institutions have assessed that the term is dehumanizing and prefer using “mummified remains.”  I would like to remind everyone that these people are dead. And believe that the dead should be respected, but changing the name is literally the least Egyptologists could do. 

According to some, “Mummy” is too much a reminder of British Imperialism. Well, there are far more poignant reminders of imperialism in the world. I draw your attention to most countries in Africa. After the British, and other European countries determined that occupation of African nations was no longer profitable, they left. The transition of power was tumultuous and brought about violence that is still evident decades after being “granted” independence. 

The use of “Mummy” is deemed dehumanizing. In many parts of the world it is a criminal offence to perform indignities to a body. I really don’t think I am stretching to say that digging up a thousand year old body, is pretty undignified. Should I mention the grave robbing?  There have been countless exhibits of King Tutankhamum’s treasures floating around the world after being “discovered” in 1922. Is this not profiting from the robbery of a grave?  

The final reason for the change in terminology is that the word “Mummy,” because of literature and film, has become synonymous with monsters and evil. We all know that this is pretend, right?  I don’t think there are people that actually believe that when children come to their door on October 31st, the one wrapped in toilet paper is there to fulfill some ancient curse. 

Yes, I do believe that language should change to be respectful, but there are far more significant ways to honour an individual, faith or a culture than changing a word. Isn’t said that actions speak louder than words?  

Sources:

elpalais.com

thetutankhumanexbition.co.uk

responsibletravel.com

egypttoday.com

history.com

Happy New Year!??

Since I have been an adult, I have not been a great fan of the whole New Year Hype. I find it a highly over rated paired with high pressure to have fun. I understand that it is a chance at renewal and letting go of the past, but can’t that be done everyday?

I am very happy to see 2022 end. This was a very tough year. Although it started out fine, in June all Hell broke loose. Our car broke down. We purchased a new car but after only 5 days an accident totalled it. There was the ensuing insurance chaos, including injuries. We both battled Covid. There a significant loss of income. And finally, weather conditions kept us from our original plans for Christmas. I felt like I was being punished for something, even though my brain knew differently. 

I had to start anew everyday. I could not carry the anxiety and anger and frustration of the yesterday into the today. Doing so would overwhelm and make it impossible for me to tackle the tasks to be done. And there were a lot. 

Letting go of yesterday, with all its pain and joy is a must, if I am ever to move on and grow. One day at a time is a good strategy for survival. I have had to realize that the challenges were not punishment, but opportunities to learn. If I dwelled on the lessons of yesterday, I could not take on the new ones of todays. 

Many people only make a concerted effort to do this in a new year.  I do not understand. Everyday is a New Year’s Day. It is a new beginning to learn and grow; a chance to be reborn. If you’re not busy being born, you’re busy dying. 

I am not one to put much credit to New Year’s Resolutions. Why only then. A choice to change can happen every morning, not just on January First. 

I decided a long time ago to let go of the hype of New Year’s Eve. Celebrating a new year is good. I chose to spend the evening with close family and friends. Often, we play various board games and share party snacks and drinks. I do not need champagne, someone to kiss at midnight, although today I do have someone special. 

I chose to start a new year every day. As was told to me during my labour with my son, the last contraction is done. You don’t have to worry about it any more. The same can be said for everyday. Yesterday’s mistakes and successes, pain and joy have come to pass not to stay. Enjoy them in the moment; and await those of today. 

Cultural Appropriation or Appreciation?

 With the Day of Truth and Reconciliation just past and Halloween soon upon us, this is a question that has plagued my mind.  I am sure as a young person and a child I have done things that would be considered appropriation.  I will chalk it up to ignorance and the inability to see how it could be interpreted by others.  As an adult and the Mother of mixed race children, I am more than willing to understanding the difference.  

    On the surface, I may be considered part of the cultural majority but I am a little more complicated than that.  My Father was of Irish descent born in Quebec and a proud Canadian.  This can be interpreted as a contradiction in terms right there.  My Mother is a Canadian citizen born and raised in Sweden.  My brothers were born in Jamaica and Florida respectively.  I was born in Canada and have been influenced by all the cultures associated with the countries mentioned above.

    I have also been curious and eager to learn about the cultures of others.  I always want to know the why behind each significant artifact and celebration.  At times, my questions may become annoying but I have never meant to be disrespectful.  In fact, it has been quite the opposite.  The reason for my questions is that I want to learn; I want to correct any misinformation I have; and if possible spread the correct  information to others.

    According to anthropologist Edward Burnett Tylor, culture is "the complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, morals, law, customs and any other capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member of society."  It is not biologically inherited, it is learned and is done when you belong to a particular group.

    I understand that adopting elements from a cultural for personal benefit without acknowledging its source and significance or that promoting a stereotype is harmful.  Stereotypes, in my opinion, are any image or assumption about a person or group that does not accurately portray the reality of the complex characteristics of the individual or group.

    But my confusion lies in the line between appreciation and appropriation.  September 1 was the National Day of Truth and Reconciliation. I had the opportunity to be smudged.  I listened carefully to the instructions, said thank you and asked about the materials used in the smudging process.  I learned that different communities use different items.  I found this a great experience  I hope that I properly expressed the honour it was to be included in this significant ceremony.  

    As mentioned above, I consider myself an ethnic mutt, and I am proud of it.  I have had the chance to learn about many traditions. We ate corn beef and cabbage on St Patrick’s Day and have often attended the Parade in Montreal. My cousins have participated in the celebration for many years.  My Dad, being born in Quebec City also practiced many French Canadian traditions.  We always had tourtière after Midnight Mass and I made several attempts at sucre à la crème, I am still trying to master it. My Mother being Swedish, we celebrated Santa Lucia on December 13.  It a day when the eldest daughter wakes the family with coffee and special treats of saffron bread and a uniqued ginger snap.  We also had Swedish Ham with pickled herring on Christmas Eve.  The herring was a taste I never acquired.  After marrying a Jamaica, curry goat was welcomed to the feast.  

    Madonna was accused of appropriation for her song "Vogue" and the ensuing video.  It was based on a dance developed at a Drag Queen Ball.  Although Madonna featured Drag Queens in the video, no credit was given to the roots of the dance and Madonna was the only one who profited financially by the 2X platinum record.

    Cultural appropriation is all over the sports world.  The Cleveland Indians (now the Cleveland Guardians) were formed in 1915. The Cleveland Plain Dealer newspaper wrote there will be no "real Indians" on the team but the name remembers a fine tradition.  I am really not sure what that means.  How does naming a sports team, in a sport that has no direct connection to Indigenous people, with a poor caricature on its uniform, honours anything.  This was 1915 and cultural sensitivity was unknown and some of the arrogance of colonialism was still running strong.  But thankfully more enlightened heads have popped up.  Some sports teams have changed theirs name and logo when it was understood that these were anything but a show of respect for the Indigenous people that they were suppose represent.  The Washington Redskins are now the Washington Commanders, The Golden State Warriors lost the Native American logo when it moved from Philadelphia to San Francisco.  The list goes on, but it needs to keep going. 

    There are still so many other logos that should change.  I think that The Minnesota Vikings should take a good look.  I have notice the uproar that has been associated with many of the misinterpretation of the Indigenous.  Perhaps Scandinavian Culture does not share the same 600 year old history of persecution and oppression.  It is historically accepted that The Vikings never wore horns on helmets.  Perhaps I am more sensitive to this caricature since I am of Swedish descent; maybe because I do my best to learn history as accurately as possible, but this incorrect image bothers me.  Am I being to sensitive?

    I love foreign foods and have followed up with attempts to replicate the delicious dishes and recipes.  I would never claim them as my own.  I adore Jazz music which is the root of all modern North American music.  I will listen and sing it at any Karaoke bar that will have me.  I am well aware that I am not Ella Fitzgerald and will never be able to give scat any justice.  I love many different kinds of art; Native, Caribbean, African and anything Van Gogh.  With my limited talent I have tried to copy it but I certainly would never paint, or sketch or draw with the intention of making money.  It is for my own enjoyment.  Is any of this appropriation?  Sometimes, I just don't know.  

    I have learnt that some non Black people have chosen to wear dread locks.  I don't know if this is necessarily wrong.  It is wrong however that Black people have been denied jobs, memberships, and the opportunity to walk across the stage at their own graduation because of their hair style.  And worse, that those who are not Black with the same style are not denied these basic rights.  With all do respect, WTF? 

    I hope that none of my hobbies etc. have been appropriations.  I would not want to oversimplify anyone.  We are all complex beings, with varied and blended backgrounds; all of which needs to respected.  In my opinion, the only way to ensure this is to ask questions and listen to the answers with an open mind.  What may seem like no big deal to you may be supremely significant to another.  This is not just culturally but in all matters of humanity.  The more we learn, the more we know; the more we respect, the more we love.  

Sources

www.history.com

www.wrap.com

www.verywellmind.com

www.radioindigenous/cbc/ca/unreserved

www.britannica.com>story