Sharing with you things that are on my mind...Maybe yours too. Come back to Wrights Lane for a visit anytime! And, by all means, let's hear from you by leaving a comment at the end of any post. THE MOTIVATION: I firmly believe that if I have felt, experienced or questioned something in life, then surely others must have too. That's what this blog is all about -- hopefully relating in some meaningful way -- sharing, if you will, on subjects of an inspirational and human interest nature. Nostalgia will frequently find its way into some of the items...And lots of food for thought. A work in progress, to be sure.

29 January, 2022

WORSHIPPING IN-PERSON AT CHURCH AND AT HOME

In recent weeks I have been reading a lot about a return to "in-person worship" at our churches, leaving me to ask "Is there a new alterative to worship other than in-person that I do not know about?"

Do we really have to be in a church setting to worship properly? My knee-jerk impulse is to answer "no" to that question. Of course I am biased for obvious reasons...a serious health setback has made it next to impossible for me to attend church services the past couple of years. As a substitute for my inability to make it to church on Sundays I have immersed myself in Bible study and have looked for inspiration to post Christian messages on this blog site with a sense of mission, but still something is lacking.

I miss my life-long attachment to a church family and the deep-felt emotions stirred by a familiar church sanctuary and joining with others in prayer and song. I struggle with the question: Have I let circumstances distance me from the church, or has the church distanced me? The jury is out on that one.

Personally, I worship alone but in-person from the confines of my home.

But let's explore the question a little deeper.

One result of COVID lockdowns has been an increase in livestreaming/recording of worship services. In the past only large churches utilized these technologies to reach those unable to attend in person, but now thanks to the pandemic and thanks to Facebook even small churches have established on line livestreaming of their worship.

Is this a good thing? Yes but with a caveat. When a person finds themselves in a circumstance where they are unable to worship with the saints on Sunday, they can (and should) still worship on their own time. John gives us this example when he was exiled, “I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s day” Rev. 1:10. (Most of) the elements of worship can be utilized without any externalities, including people, regardless of circumstance: singing to the Lord, praying to God, communion, meditating on God’s word, etc.

However, churches across North America have noticed a trend, some people are not coming back. Many people have gotten out of the habit of attending church worship services. But there is a small percentage of those people who are not returning that are still tuning into the livestreamed worship. They find it comfortable to remain at home, sit in their pajamas, and worship along with the church behind a computer. This is not good...It is laziness! 

I am not referring to the people who are unable to attend worship in person -- I am referring to the people who can attend in person but choose not to. Scripture clearly indicates we should assemble.

Hebrews 10:24-25 says, “And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.” The concept of meeting together is commanded in the vein of stirring up one another to love and do good works. Again, this is not about people who are sick or avoiding exposure to COVID -- this is about people who could attend, who feel comfortable in public, and still choose not to attend a Christian gathering. That is not okay -- that is “neglecting to meet together.” 

If a person insists that they are technically “meeting together,” then answer this, are you stirring up your brethren to love and do good works? Our presence and our interaction with others on Sundays are important to God.

In assembling, singing is “addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, praising and making melody to the Lord with your heart” (Eph. 5:19). How can you “address” others if you are sitting in your living room while your brethren are in the church building? Though you can hear them, your brethren can’t hear you when you are at home.

The Lord’s Supper is designed as a group-Church activity. 
The point is that Communion is not just between you and God -- it is serving of elements between the collective congregation and God.

There are other points we could make too, but the ultimate point I am making is this, if you can worship in person with your brethren, God wants you to do so. 

For those who are sick and avoiding illness, I have no doubt the Lord understands. But even to those people, hopefully they understand the importance of in-person worship at church when  ever physically possible on the Lord’s Day because there is no good substitute for those of my generation.

As for me, I look forward to the day (hopefully soon) that I can worship at a church that will have me. 

Being a Christian orphan (if that is possible) leaves a lot to be desired. It can be a lonely feeling.

Long live the churches who still reach out in mission!

28 January, 2022

DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE? OF COURSE YOU DON'T

To write or not to write, that is the question!

Would you believe that I've been at this writing game -- news reporting, commentary, creative story telling, authorship and opinion venues -- for 60 years and it only dawned on me this morning while making my second cup of coffee that absolutely no one else sees the world with my eyes.

Why then would one devote three-quarters of his life to imposing his view, or interpretation of same, on fellow human beings who already have their own unique view of the way things are, or should be?

My first venture into the world of the written word was as newspaper reporter. I relished the idea of passing on "facts" I had garnered about a particular person or details surrounding an event or activity, some of it by means of reinforcement and even more ideally some of it as a source of new information for public consumption.

As I climbed the journalistic ladder, it was inevitable that I be introduced to the role of editorialist which was completely unnatural for me at the time because I had yet to develop the courage of my convictions and the confidence to analyse the news of the day, let alone commit my humble and up-to-then-supressed opinions to print. Convincing myself that my take on issues were as good as the next guy's and that someone was actually prepared to pay me for them was a revolation. I had to approach it as a career challenge and it eventually became a way of life, dare I say an obsession. Always promoting ideas, concepts or schools of thought as a form of public awareness and being naive enough to think that readers would 100 percent buy into my way of thinking, or view -- and totally shattered when that was not the case.

It has taken me all this time to understand that two people may see the same thing, but in reality they will have different interpretations of it. No two people have the same perception as they view or examine issues because they have different experiences in life. We have our own minds and brains, that’s why we create different observations.

According to the site worldtrans.org, perceptions vary from person to person but more than that, we assign different meanings to what we perceive.

"All writers are vain, selfish, and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives there lies a mystery," wrote George Orwell in 
Why I Write. "Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand. For all one knows, that demon is simply the same instinct that makes a baby squall for attention. And yet it is also true that one can write nothing readable unless one constantly struggles to efface one’s own personality."

Orwell’s classic essay touches on a fascinating contradiction at the heart of the writing impulse. We write to hear ourselves think, to attract an audience, to work out our demons. For me, writing is often therapeutic and I feel a compulsion to share my experience with others who may just benefit from it.

At the same time, the writers we love are able to move, entertain, and comfort strangers with relative ease...That's what I call a gift, showing powers of empathy and imagination that seem the very opposite of selfish. I really do not know where I fit in.

Orwell identified four motivations that he believed lie in different combinations in every writer’s heart:

Sheer Egoism: "Desire to seem clever, to be talked about, to be remembered after death, to get your own back on the grown-ups who snubbed you in childhood etc."

Aesthetic Enthusiasm:
"Perception of beauty in the external world, or, on the other hand, in words and their right arrangement. Pleasure in the impact of one sound on another, in the firmness of good prose or the rhythm of a good story."

Historical Impuls
e: "Desire to see things as they are, to find out true facts and store them up for the use of posterity."

Political Purpose:
"Desire to push the world in a certain direction, to alter other peoples’ idea of the kind of society that they should strive after."

I certainly have no quarrel with any of that.

I write to satisfy a need within me coupled with an unexplained sense of mission. Sadly, however, I am reaching a stage in life where my ability to meet that need is diminishing.

Whenceforth then, comes my inspiration?

I struggle to come to grips with the fact that in the end I am at the mercy of a reading audience that on a good day has the courtesy to similarly struggle in order to view the world as I see it.

I'm taking it all under advisement over another cup of coffee.

24 January, 2022

I'M NO FOOL, THIS CARD I'M GOING TO PLAY!


Be it strange or coincidental, the universe seems to be flooding me recently with inspirational food for thought on subjects that I have been writing about on Wrights Lane -- i.e. being your true self, coffee as a source of inspiration, purpose in life...Post it on this blog site and a dozen other eerily related story ideas present themselves out of the blue.

As a for instance, due to my belief that hidden within all of us is a reservoir of talents and natural strengths waiting to be released, I have been pursuing the subject of Tarot Card reading with a numerologist. Within hours of publishing my most recent blog effort I'VE FULFILLED A PURPOSE AND DIDN'T REALIZE IT, I was presented with a rare opportunity to make a single selection from a deck of Tarot cards. Without knowing it, I picked a card  bearing the intimidating label "The Fool".

As one who often signs off literary efforts by quoting a line from William Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, "Still more fool I shall appear by the time I linger here..." I could not help but think, how appropriate!

Here is the message behind "The Fool" card -- and it had everything to do with the subject of "purpose" that I had just committed to Wrights Lane.

The Fool

You might feel stupid, but you have the ability to grasp the truth of a matter, and today The Fool is urging you to follow your gut.

The Fool (pictured above) seems to be heading for a cliff. He’s blissfully unaware that he might take the next step and fall into the abyss. Behind him there’s a dog, trying to warn him that he might take a mis-step, but The Fool trusts his intuition. He believes that nothing will touch him - and that’s the hope that keeps him going. And that’s exactly the hope you should be clinging onto today. 

Things won’t go wrong, as long as you trust your gut. That might mean taking a leap of faith - but it also means that you need to keep your eyes on the prize. You need to keep in mind what your own inner truth is.

Riding the Waves: If you decide to listen to other people you’re likely to take the wrong step. That’s when things will turn out worse than you want it to. You need to stay true to what you want out of life. There’s nothing that can harm you if you just stick to your promises and follow your intuition. But that isn’t always as easy as it seems.

A Leap of Faith: Sometimes you have to take a leap into the unknown and see what happens. You need to go ahead and trust your gut to guide you through the toughest situations. It isn’t always easy - but it is possible. The universe will be there to catch you when you fall. It will be there to give you exactly what you need when you need it.

It might be hard to believe - but there is a purpose to your life. There is a reason you’re drawn to do certain things. It’s your responsibility to remember what your soul’s purpose is on this planet. To remember why you came here in the first place.

It’s true that we all come from somewhere else and that we are sent to this world with some kind of purpose to fulfil. What you need to do is trust that fulfilling your purpose will bring you all the joy and harmony you are seeking from life.

Haters will hate: 
This one really hit home for me because I've been known to unintentionally rub people the wrong way. 

There will always be people that don’t agree with you. But it’s up to you to decide whether you’re going to allow their unique purpose to run - or ruin - your life. There are things you need to take care of for yourself. There are things you need to do without telling anyone what your plan is or where you’re heading. Because sometimes that’s the only way to really get to the bottom of what you’re here to do.

It doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you know in your heart that it’s the best thing for you to do at that point in time. Know that things will work themselves out over time. All you need to do is keep hope in your heart and allow yourself to do the things that you need to do for yourself.

Of course you should never be selfish about it, but in the end it’s your life and you need to live it in the way that makes you happy. You can’t run around fulfilling other people’s purposes for them all the time. Sometimes you have to focus on what’s best for you and your life.

So be a bit silly today and let your hair down. Let your inner child come out to play for a while. Relax and have some fun with friends and family. Try your best to reawaken the hope that’s been subdued by external events. 

Who cares what other people think about you. This is about you and what’s best for your life, soul and happiness.

Message from Dick: Wow, that reinforcement was indeed deep and well received. Don't get me wrong, I do not intend to become a Tarot card fanatic, but if this reading is any indication...

21 January, 2022

I'VE FULFILLED A PURPOSE AND DIDN'T REALIZE IT

“The purpose of life is to discover your gift; the work of life is to develop it; and the meaning of life is to give your gift away” said David Viscott.

I have written a lot lately about the importance of purpose in life and how it dwindles with age.

We are constantly evolving, finding relevance and meaning to live a life aligned to what is important to us. However, for me, this benchmark has been difficult to follow because I have not been blessed with significant talent or skills, making the discovery of any unique gift an almost impossible task. 

An insular slow learner and day dreamer in my fledgling years, the school system was not geared to wait for ADHD and borderline bipolar kids like me to catch up. The result being that I was on my own to learn the hard way -- by trial and error -- and finding it necessary at times to take a step back in order to take a future step forward in what turned out to be several careers, multiple jobs and callings from a higher authority.

Out of necessity I became a sponge for knowledge as I matured, only in my own way and at my own speed. That has not changed, even to this day. As I was exposed to more and more information in the self-education process and gained valuable experience, my perspective naturally changed thus enabling a redefined and purposeful path and humbly writing about it as I went along as a form of personal reinforcement and for what it was worth to friends and readers.

Because my aim was high in tackling certain challenges, it was not unusual to find myself in over my head with a requirement to call on resourcefulness in order to bail myself out. It is a way of life for a creative individual treading close to the edge. 

I would agree, almost too little to late, that purpose is not a destination but the life you choose to live. Awareness is an important part of this. If, like me, you are not aware of your unique gifts, or the lack of same, you may believe you have nothing to special to share (give). Resultingly, you will have difficulty finding that meaning of life in which to share what you do have to offer the world.

Bottom line? We must know that our presence in this life is important, that we have a unique (God-given) purpose and perspective which is the truth of who we are...Your purpose is your authentic path to being the best that you are here to be.

The best advise I ever gleaned was to invest in myself, my health and wellbeing. This is listening to intuition, mind and body; attending to physical, emotional, social and spiritual wellbeing, as this is the enabler to living a purposeful life.

So, backing up just a little, to this day I continue to struggle with true purpose and the disturbing acknowledgement that I have lacked sufficient ability to make any meaningful contribution to society...and when I've tried I fell short of expectations, often times miserably.

I have been hard on myself in thinking that as time runs out I no longer have a purpose in living, if in fact I ever had one that was clearly defined -- outside of caring for two late wives and raising a family.

It wasn't until this morning when finishing up that good-to-the-last-drop coffee that I wrote about in a recent Wrights Lane post, that the thought came to me (God often communicates through the thought process): "Stop thinking about your purpose in life...Stop trying to define it. You have already achieved your purpose, whether you realized it or not. You used what you had at your disposal in the first 83 years of your life in order to get where you are now. That in itself served your purpose. Now take what time you have left to enjoy the fruits of your labor -- and be at peace, knowing that as imperfect as you think you may have been, you gave the best of what you had most of the time. That was your purpose!"

Giving the best of what I had most of the time...and, in the end, being judged on merit. 

Know what? In retrospect, I could have always done better, but I'll settle for the best I had to offer at the time. No charge!

If there was a price to pay, I picked up the tab.


NOTE TO READER: In the next day or two I will publish a post explaining my coincidental introduction to "The Fool" as the result of a Tarot Card reading. It is all about taking a leap of faith, keeping your eyes on the prize and being mindful of what inner truth really is. I found it eerily relevant, and I think you will too.

14 January, 2022

TRIBUTE TO 2xGREAT GRANDMOTHER: THOMAS MOORE'S SONGS SUNG, PERFORMED AROUND THE WORLD


Probably
the oldest book, all 3.4 x 2 inches of it, that I have in my possession is "Irish Melodies and Other Poems" written by Thomas Moore approximately 200 years ago. 

The most precious aspect of having this tiny (pocket-sized) booklet in my antique collection is that it belonged to my great-great grandmother Sarah Hewitt, an Irish immigrant to the rural Lambton County farming district of Sombra, ON, in about 1860.

Sarah Hewitt was the grand mother of my grandmother Louise Ruddick Wright and I inherited six Irish Anglican religious texts given to her as a young woman before coming to Canada with her daughter and son-in-law, James and Catherine Ruddick. Sarah's husband Frederick Hewitt (my great-great grandfather) passed away before the family left for Canada.

Louise Ruddick married my grandfather Wesley Wright in 1896. They maintained the Wright homestead in Dresden where both my father Kenneth and I were born.
Ruler made in China, book
published in Ireland

I do not really know why, but the name Thomas Moore has haunted me recently to the point that I undertook some research to find a little more information on the life of this rather historic literary figure that had eluded me all these years.

And boy, was I ever surprised and duly impressed with what I discovered.

Thomas Moore (28 May 1779 – 25 February 1852) was an Irish writer, poet, and lyricist celebrated for his Irish Melodies published in about 1821. Their setting of English-language verse to old Irish tunes marked the transition in popular Irish culture from Irish to English.

Come to find out, Moore’s “Irish Melodies” were produced in both Dublin and London, as Moore began adding his poetry and lyrics to the lost Irish airs that were being discovered during various harp festivals and transcribed for piano by Edward Bunting. These festivals were organized by the retired physician, Dr. James MacDonnell, who also developed a reputation for developing various medical institutions, as well as a natural history museum in Ireland.
Thomas Moore

Moore's father was a spirits grocer with an establishment on Grafton Street in Dublin. His mother devoted herself to her only son’s excellent education and encouraged him to avoid the rebellious element in the country that challenged British rule in Ireland. During that time “Catholics had no right to vote, to hold office, to serve on juries, to educate their children, to engage in most professions and to bear arms”. (De Ford, 1967)

During the years when Moore was a young man the opportunity appeared for Catholics to attend Trinity College, after his attendance at various grammar schools, and with enough savings in the family for the young lad to attend with a vision to practice law.

Two of Moore’s close friends and classmates at Trinity belonged to the “United Irishman” and participated in the unsuccessful uprising of 1798. Moore wrote an anonymous letter to the organization’s publication “The Press”, but was discouraged by his parents and avoided future participation. Trinity College began investigating some of the ideas that were being promulgated and debated and Moore was fortunate to be able to remain there as a student after certain reassurances.

Moore’s friends Robert Emmet and Edward Hudson remained involved but avoided involving Moore who was less suited. Ironically, it was Hudson who introduced Moore to the new Irish songs that were being discovered and Emmet who relished in them as possible marching tunes.

Ireland was hopeful in the spirit of the recent French Revolution, following that of the American Revolution, that freedom would finally blossom in the motherland. In the 1798 uprising, Robert Emmet was wounded, while Edward Hudson was imprisoned and exiled. Following the uprising in 1803 led by Robert Emmet, Emmet would be hanged and then beheaded.

Moore penned the song “Breath Not His Name” in his honor along with “She is far from the land” for Emmet’s sweetheart, Sarah Curren. Ironically it was his other friend Edward Hudson, a flutist, who introduced Moore to the new Irish songs that were being discovered. Moore writes about Emmet:

“Were I to number, indeed, the men among all I have known who appeared to me to combine in the greatest degree pure moral worth with intellectual power, I should, among the highest of the few, place Robert Emmet. Such in heart and mind, he was another of those devoted men who, with gifts that would have made them ornaments and supports of a well-regulated community, were yet driven to live the lives of conspirators and die the death of traitors by a system of government, which it would be difficult ever to think of with patience, did we not gather a hope from the present aspect of the whole civilized world that such a system of bigotry and misrule can never exist again.”

An excellent scholar, Moore excelled in Latin, Italian, French, and particularly in Greek.

”His memory was prodigious and he could readily call to mind long passage from the Italian or French masters, as well as quote freely from the Latin and Greek classics (Mackay, 1951). Moore’s star began to rise when he did a translation of a Greek poet from the 5th century BC, “The Odes of Anacreon”, which focused on “wine, women and song” with the support of various English aristocrats. The sponsors came to appreciate his talent both in verse and the Irish melodies that he performed in the social circles of London.

Music was soon seen as the interpreter, the enhancer of poetry. A man like Thomas Moore quickly achieved a worldwide reputation as a great lyric poet precisely because he sang his songs in the drawing rooms of the great.

One account of Moore’s musical style was by Lady Blessington:

"We all sat around the piano, for one or two songs, he rambled over the keys awhile and sang, 'When first I met thee' with a pathos that beggars description. When the last word had faltered out, he rose, said ‘good night’, and was gone before a word was uttered. For a full minute after he had closed the door no one spoke. I could have wished myself to have dropped silently asleep where I sat, with the tears in my eyes and the softness upon my heart.” 

The beginning of the 19th century saw the rise of Romanticism, following the world’s moving away from the path of scientific deduction and mechanical exactitude in the 1780s period of “reason.” Now it was “feelings.” French philosopher Blaise Pascal noted, “The heart has its reasons, which reason knoweth not.” Chateaubriand called it the “centrality of the irrational.”

The popularity of the pianoforte with Moore, which replaced the harp in middle-class homes, began to be replaced by the six octave piano as Beethoven was composing for such an instrument before any piano existed, creating this new market.

Moore never liked the way his songs were published and disagreed with the manner that he wished them to be performed. In his notes, he suggested that one attend “as little as possible to the rhythm or the time in singing them. The time should always be made to wait for the feeling, words need to be as nearly spoken, the observance of time completely destroys all of those pauses.”

Moore was concerned about the mechanical nature of organized music, where the feeling was lost to the “unrelenting trammels of an orchestra”. Moore’s style was to play various chords with intermittent lyrics and spoken poetry.

In his book, The Birth of the Modern, Paul Johnson notes:

“But the public was enthusiastic, music was soon seen as the interpreter, the enhancer of poetry. A man like Thomas Moore quickly achieved a worldwide reputation as a great lyric poet precisely because he sang his songs in the drawing rooms of the great. Indeed, music came to be revered, increasingly, as a key to all of the arts.” (Johnson, 1991)

Moore’s melodies spread to the American continent and, upon Moore’s arriving in Philadelphia, discovered his music’s popularity. 


He experienced culture shock visiting various locations in the new democracy and was most comfortable in Philadelphia, which mirrored the sophistication of his own urbane nature in London. Upon visiting Thomas Jefferson, he noticed that the President was dressed in “tweeds and Connemara stockings.” Moore’s music would become popular later from the American Civil War up until World War l.

This bronze statue of Thomas Moore
stands on a traffic Island just to the
north of Trinity College in Dublin. It
was sculpted by Christopher Moore
and unveiled in 1857.

He would write the biography of the famous English poet, Lord Byron, after his death at his request, as they were good friends. There was universal appreciation of Moore’s poetic genius in that great poetic age, which produced Wordsworth, Scott, Shelly, Keats, and Byron. Mary Shelly, the author of “Frankenstein”, writing to Moore, refers to his “department of poetry, peculiarly your own song’s instinct with the intense principles of life and love”.

Edgar Allen Poe, the American poet, and author, is noted as recognizing his favorite song of Moore, “Come Rest in My Bosom”. For three-quarters of a century, more men and women read and loved Moore more than Keats, Shelly, or Wordsworth. Shelly was proud to acknowledge his own inferiority.

Despite this level of recognition, Moore would fall short in being recognized by the cultural leaders in Ireland. His success contrasted the life Edward Bunting was living and his publications were copied and reproduced by other publishers since no copyright laws existed until the late 19th century. Moore was able to capitalize on his airs and Bunting was uncomfortable with them being adjusted to suit his poetry.

At a gathering in Belfast, Bunting was honored and Moore was crushed that he was never mentioned, purposefully, being the possible poet laureate of Ireland.

“Ironically, when the Irish melodies did appear under another imprint -- the airs, of course, were public property-- Bunting, gracious if probably chagrined, said generously that they were “the most beautiful popular songs composed by any lyric poet.” 

Moore’s five children would predecease him, three dying at a young age. In 1846 he would write, “The last of our five children is gone and we are left desolate and alone, not a single relative have I now left in the world”, his father deceased in 1825, and his mother in 1830, sister Ellen would die in 1834.

Moore would die in 1852 after a brief lapse into senile dementia. 

The theme of love and death appear often in Moore’s works and would play a part in his personality and vision throughout his life

*Thank you great-great grandmother Sarah for the heritage that now rests with me. I regret never having known you, your daughter and your grand daughter; or any other member of the Ruddick family. But don't feel bad because I also never met another Wright.

I did meet a lot of Perrys on my mother's side, but they're all gone now too. That's life for you!

Moore's Last Rose of Summer, page ear marked
by my great-great grandmother.


11 January, 2022

LISTEN TO HIS WHISPER, YOU SURELY SHALL BE BLEST

In collecting the scars of everyday exposure to the quirks of society -- and surviving -- I often have to give myself a serious shake in order to rationalize it all.

Many find merit in meditation as a stress reducer and enabler of empathy and compassion, but something about my make up does not allow my mind to go into the required state of neutrality. For me, strangely enough, there is nothing like that first cup of coffee in the morning to induce a peaceful and relaxed all-is-right-with-the-world sense of well-being within me.

It’s more than just being attracted to the aroma, and flavor of quality coffee. It’s more than caffeine’s ‘wake-up’ call, though, if I am honest, I will admit to being happy with the ‘increasing glow’ of its influence. It’s more the ambiance, the “feel-good” -- and the “presence” it brings.

Yea, through a looking glass of the 10 minutes it takes to savor that first coffee of the day, I then see clearly.

"I understand the 'feel-good' and clarity part but what about that 'presence' you refer to?" A very good question indeed. Thanks for asking.

One thing is for sure...None of us are getting any younger and the older we get the more friends and loved ones we lose. In general, we find ourselves at odds, even alienated, with many things and we retreat within ourselves. It is inevitable that as seniors we feel alone at times as circumstances and complications of life stack up against us.

The key for those of us who tend to periodically feel lonely and empty is to free ourselves from the past and our concern about the future. We do that by trusting in a holy "presence" and the role assigned to us in life, hence rising above momentary circumstances in order to experience joy and worthiness in the present.

And let's not so quickly skip over the role we are given to play in life...We all have one you know. God gave it to us at birth and in spite of sticks, stones and road blocks encountered along the way, we must never lose sight of that fact. If the world seems to be passing you by, don't let it. Catch up and keep in step as much as possible.

Remember that there is still a role for you to play, given your maturity and invaluable experience (dare I suggest wisdom) that a younger generation easily takes for granted. Don't always settle for respectful patronization in a world that needs what you have to offer.

That, in essence, is what is called faith in action and it is all about a trust through which we are free to be present in every moment of our existence. With that blessed trust, you have no room in your mind for the stresses that life may throw at you.

So whether you are meditating or relaxing over that first stimulating but soothing cup of coffee in the morning, listen carefully for a whisper in the quiet clarity of the moment: "My presence will go with you...and I will give your rest." Rest in the present and rest in the hereafter. Trust me, you will hear it if you listen. That will be your very own blessed assurance.

On that note, dear reader, I leave you with a timely homily about that unfailing presence of which we are speaking. You just might want to tuck it away in your memory bank for future reference.

Another year I enter
Its history unknown;
Oh, how my feet would tremble
To tread its paths alone!
But I have heard a whisper,
I know I shall be blest;
"My presence shall go with thee, 
And I will give you rest."

What will the New Year bring me?
I may not, must not know;
Will it be love and rapture,
Or loneliness and woe?
Hush! Hush! I hear His whisper;
I surely shall be blest;
"My presence shall go with thee,
And I will give thee rest."

09 January, 2022

MOUSE ENCOUNTERS OF ANOTHER KIND

I am not necessarily my best friend today...Tell you why.

Last evening around midnight I was groggily watching The Vision Channel (I'm a documentary freak) on tv when a tiny figure dashed across the floor about six feet in front of me.

What the h... was that? I thought to myself.

In the semi darkness, I turned on the light beside me to get a better look at what I thought I saw.

Shockingly, sitting motionless next to a planter and three feet from our sleeping dog Miffy, was a baby mouse, just starring at me. Still half unbelieving of what I was seeing, I cautiously eased myself out of my chair and made my way over to the young intruder.

He/she did not move...Most unusual indeed. The little guy has never encountered a human being before, I rationalized.

I bent down for a closer look, going so far as to extend my hand to within an inch of its nose.

What am I going to do now?

The thought of just scooping up the creature with my hand and quickly flushing it down the nearest toilet, crossed my mind. But I couldn't bring myself to be that ruthless.

Instead I retrieved a pail from the laundry room, thinking that I could use it to execute a more humane capture and give myself time to consider the best means of disposal. Needless to say that strategy was in vain as mousey easily evaded the pail and scampered to safety under the nearby chesterfield.

Small but menacing trap in waiting.

When the little guy did not resurface and for lack of a better plan, I decided to load a trap with cheese and place it on the path that the mouse had previously taken along the living room floor. By then it was long past my time to hit the hay.

Again and unbelievingly as I sat in the bedroom contemplating events of the past hour, my new little friend paid me another surprise visit, having found its way past a still sleeping Miffy and up the hallway. After quickly exploring every square inch of the bedroom he (I'll use the term he for the balanced of the story) stopped momentarily in the middle of the floor to scratch his ear and do a little grooming before coming over to where I was sitting for some more up front and personal exploration.

He ran over my feet a couple of times before boldly jumping up on the arm of the plush chair I was sitting in. He finally settled for a resting spot on the back of the chair just above my right shoulder. I gave him a chance to settle before turning my body slightly in order to face him. As I do with all animals, I began talking baby jibberish to him, introducing myself as "Poppa" and someone to be trusted.

The formation of a rare bond between man and wildlife was growingly culpable.

I was amazed at the length of his antenna-like whiskers, his tiny beady eyes, the size of his ears and the perfectly formed little dextrous feet that were already serving him so well. I noticed too what looked to be a sticker of some kind attach to his rear quarters, which I tried to gently remove with no success. He did, however, allow me to stroke his head several times. I wondered if there was any possibility that I could tame him further and keep him as a pet, remembering that years ago my youngest daughter had a pet rat that adopted extremely well to life in our household. I even thought of a name, weighing the suitability of either Mickey or Minnie.

With the clock now registering wee small hours of the morning and my little friend showing signs of contented drowsiness, I left him resting on the back of the chair, turned out the lights and went to bed.

As per routine, I got up to go to the bathroom several hours later and he had moved down to the foot of the chair and seemed to be well absorbed in mouse dreamland. He was nowhere to be seen however when I made a second trip to the washroom around 7:00 a.m. And again I went back to bed for another couple hours of make up shuteye.

When I arose for good, the first thing I did this morning was to check around the bedroom for any sign of the mouse. There was none...and I could not help but feel a weird sense of abandonment.

At the end of the hallway my eyes immediately fell on the mouse trap that I had strategically placed in the living room nine hours before.

"Oh no, oh no!" I gasped out loud at the sight of the grim evidence laying before me.

The forgotten trap had done its job at the expense of my little friend's unsuspecting and inquisitive nature.

I hated myself!

Tell tale sticker.

I removed the previously mentioned sticker still clinging to the fur on the lifeless body, obviously picked up at some point from a discarded avocado skin during a romp through our garbage under the kitchen sink, subsequently releasing the little rodent back into the same garbage container where it could appropriately rest in peace for the duration.

In the end, I was sort of glad that I was at least able to be kind to the little fellow during the last few hours of his brief life. Through that unique encounter, he brought me a degree of joy too, perhaps never again to be equalled.

But a fine friend I turned out to be!

05 January, 2022

DO YOURSELF A FAVOR, DON'T BE A PRETENDER: A LOOK AT THE COMPLEXITIES OF MEETING EXPECTATIONS OF YOURSELF...AND OTHERS

Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.~ Oscar Wilde

In a world where we are told that we can be anything we want to be, we cannot be just anyone that tickles our fancy. You can be a writer, an artist or an astronaut but you have no choice but to be anything other than yourself while doing it. 

Maybe I should say that this is the only wise choice. You cannot pretend to be someone or something that you are not, plenty of people try but they ultimately fail. If you do succeed, you certainly won’t be happy in the pretend world you have adopted.

There is no denying that there are people making their way through life by pretending. Maybe it is easier to convince ourselves that we feel good about something or someone rather than admit that down deep we do not. Contentment does not require action so by convincing ourselves that we are happy even when we are not, we may be able to avoid making those difficult decisions. Pretending everything is fine means not having to contend with all the fears and the potential of disapproval from loved ones if we leave it behind. Pretending is costly because we may be giving away our peace of mind and happiness.

Many of us chose to compromise, afraid that we would otherwise be left alone, isolated and helpless. We may have learned to cover ourselves well with the veil of pretence. As adults, we may have a dozen masks and behind every one lies a deep-rooted fear: the fear to express ourselves and reveal to others who we truly are. When we blend in and try to be what we think others want, our life does not feel very satisfactory because, well, it’s not our life. It’s based on a fake version of us.

Do we really have to ask ourselves whether we’re happy? The truth is, if we have to ask the question, something inside of us already knows the answer. When we’re genuinely happy, we know. When we are not, we know that, too. 

Exposing our true selves, fully embracing our deepest desires, and facing our fears requires a tremendous amount of courage. Many of us have been trying to please others for such a long time, that we may have forgotten who we are and what is truly important to us. We have forgotten how to express ourselves, to be spontaneous and to recognise what we truly enjoy doing.

In thinking about your own life: Are your relationships genuine? Do you feel confident? Do you feel secure? Are you relaxed? For a significant amount of people, the answer to all these questions is ‘no.” We may pretend because deep down we feel empty and lonely. We pretend because we don’t feel adequate as we are. If even you don’t appreciate yourself, how can you expect others to appreciate you? When we pretend, our relationships become shallow and empty.

There cannot be any sincere communication in relationships built around pretending. The pretender begins by conjuring up the desired feelings or style in an attempt to assuage insecurities. It is common to talk about how we sometimes manipulate others, but the person one most often manipulates is, guess who? You!

The trap that the pretender falls into is that they try too hard to control their experience. Feelings and even identities are forced, instead of letting things happen in their own way. Intimacy is lost.

To my mind, the only way to really connect with others on a meaningful level is to let them see who we are and to share our experience and what makes us tick. Not everyone will like it and that is okay. It really is.

We increase our self worth not by being what others want us to be, but by being true to ourselves.

And if, in the end, someone does not like or appreciate the true you...Well too bad! They're the real loser because they miss out on the potential of knowing a good person.

Personality clashes are a fact of life. You'll never win 'em all, but you'll like yourself a lot more if you stand your ground by being true to yourself!


Now, having said all of that...are you ready for this?

A creature of limitations and mediocrity, I know whereof I speak on this rather complex subject. You see, in order to survive and function in the society we all live in, for much of my life I have had to resort to imagery (some may call it pretending, or several other applicable terms) in order to reach certain goals.

With imagery, you visualize that you have already achieved a certain goal and the steps you took to actually get there. With that image clearly fixed in your mind you then proceed to make it a reality. 

For me, very little has come naturally. I have learned from mistakes made while endeavoring to make things happen. Call it imagery, pretending or fooling myself as a means to an end; I have had to call on creativity in order to make any semblance of a mark in the world which has always been my motivation, as lofty as it may seem.

So, to be clear: think, pretend and visualize that you have what you want, and you will eventually get it. But be mindful of what you think and speak because you subconsciously and spiritually can make it come true in the physical world. 

The law of attraction fell out of favor a few years ago, but the idea started trending again recently under a new word: "manifesting." Namely, that you can manifest things to happen if you focus your mind on it.

All of which leaves one long question. Is there a difference between pretending to be something or someone you are not in order to satisfy expectations of others, and striving to pretend to be something you are not yet in order to achieve goals in life? I think that there is a difference.

We all walk a very fine line. Some of us more than others.

I do not know where I'd be today if it was not for my imagination -- call it pretending, imagery, visualization or manifestation -- and the price I have paid for all of the above!