Sanctuary...

"Why do we assume that being authentic involves exiting from the circumstances and momentum of one's actual life and striving for an elevated plane of existence somewhere else? The prevailing wisdom is that the clutter and stress of daily life brings out what is most artificial in us. Why do we believe we're above it all, destined for so much better, if only there was time to think, meditate, and get really tactile with the land, the elements? Why must we stand on cliffs or stagger up monastery steps or kick our toes through the sand in order to feel in the moment? Why can't we be authentic in the authentic moment itself?" (from Safe Haven: The Possibility of Sanctuary in an Unsafe World by Larry Gaudet, p. 66)

Yeah, why is that?! I picked up this book by Gaudet at the public library. I had never heard of it, nor did I seek it out. It was just sitting there on a shelf... and it called out to me. I was hooked when I read the following on the inside flap: The book (...) dips into Gaudet's own Acadian heritage of displacement, and the ethnic cleansing of his ancestral family. As an Acadian, how could I resist joining in on this exploration?

I'm about a third of the way through and am enjoying it thus far. There are so many books out there just waiting to be discovered. What book has engaged your interest this summer??

Pace e bene,

Nobody's Mother...

“I am not childless by choice, although many of my choices have contributed to my being childless. I live with this as regret and blessing both, a point of chaos in my ordered life.” - Mary Jane Copps in Nobody’s Mother: Life Without Kids.

The fact that I do not have children is not something I talk about very often. It’s not even something I think about most of the time. Last year, a book review in the local paper caught my eye: Nobody’s Mother: Life Without Kids. I tore out the article, planning to look at it later and, as waywards bits of paper tend to do in my home, it eventually migrated to the office upstairs. A couple of weeks ago, it reappeared at the top of the heap as if to say: “Now would be a good time to read this.” I ordered it from the public library (I’m still on my self-imposed book buying moratorium) and read it over the past week.

Nobody’s Mother presents a series of essays from women who, for a myriad of reasons, have never borne children. They write with honesty, courage, humour and grace. In their words, I was able to find comfort and affirmation – things I didn’t even know I was needing. I was even able to find words that described the paradoxical feelings I have about being nobody’s mother. (See quote above by Mary Jane Copps.)

The reasons for my not having children are far to complex too post here; I’m not even sure I could describe the twists and turns that brought me to this point. The fact is: here I am. The beauty and strength of this book lie in its simple acceptance that reasons differ and – in the end – are quite irrelevant. It’s about accepting and celebrating the reality that is, and the fullness of a woman without kids of her own. This I can relate to!

Here are a few more quotes that resonated with me:

“Not every woman has to have children, you know.” – Lorna Crozier (comment from her mother)

“Physiologically, I am constructed so that I may incubate a fetus, or even a whole string of them, if I so choose. I will die one day, never having carried out the biological impetus of my being.” – Adrienne Munro (this thought – or some variation of it – crosses my mind about once a month! :-))

“If I am a vessel, I am full to overflowing with love and strength and the milk of human kindness. I have not borne a child, but I am a universal parent; in a hundred little ways my love can change the world.” – Adrienne Munro

“I am 42 years old. I have no children. I am very happy.” – Katherine Gordon

I make no judgement of friends and family members who have chosen - consciously or not - to have children... and I hope they make none of me. As I have mentioned here before, the important thing, I believe, is to live fully... to love wastefully... and to be courageously - one day at a time.

Pace e bene,

Finding joy in Anne...

"I am well in body although considerably rumpled up in spirit, thank you, ma'am."

Ah yes, no one can tell it like it is quite like Anne Shirley... Anne (spelled with an e), otherwise known as Anne of Green Gables.

While in Italy this past summer, I met a lovely woman named Ann; she was from Oslo, Norway. When she found out I was from Canada, she immediately said: "Anne of Green Gables! This is my dream, one day, to go to Canada and visit Green Gables!!" I was struck with the intensity of her desire. I think she planted a seed... it would soon be time for me to rediscover the charm and exuberance of the little red-haired girl from PEI.

I picked up the book on the weekend and devoured it, almost as if for the first time. It truly is a laugh-out-loud kinda book, and as I began to read some of the familiar stories, I would giggle in anticipation of what I knew was to come. How can one forget Diana getting drunk on the "raspberry cordial"? Other long-forgotten stories came as a surprise and I took great delight in becoming reacquainted with them.

Next year is the 100th anniversary of the publication of Anne of Green Gables. Lucy Maud Montgomery's writing is timeless... as alive and colourful today as it was a century ago. If, like me, your copy of Anne has been gathering dust on a shelf somewhere, do yourself a big favour. Take it down, brush it off, grab a comfy blanket and settle down for a wonderful read.

Allow me to leave you with a sampling of my favourite phrases...

"There's such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I'm such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn't be half so interesting."

"Oh Marilla, I'm so glad to live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn't it?"

"If you'll only call me Anne spelled with an e I shall try to reconcile myself to not being called Cordelia."

"I'm so glad my window looks east into the sunrising. (...) It's new every morning, and I feel as if I washed my very soul in that bath of earliest sunshine."

"Isn't it good just to be alive on a day like this? I pity the people who aren't born yet for missing it. They may have good days, of course, but they can never have this one."

Pace e bene,

Me and... math?!

The universe may be a mystery, but it's not a secret. Each of us is capable of comprending much more than we might realize. A vision of mathematics different from that which we were taught at school holds an accessible key to a nearby world of wonder and beauty.

And thus begins the Introduction to A Beginner's Guide to Constructing the Universe: The Mathematical Archetypes of Nature, Art and Science (A Voyage from 1 to 10), by Michael S. Schneider.

Hm... intriguing, you may think. Or perhaps you're thinking: JAG, what the hell...?! Since when do you read about math?!!

Well, there's a first for everything. Admittedly, I'm not drawn to math. I'm not a numbers gal; I'll take words over digits any day. The beauty of this book, however, is the language used to bring mathematics - and more specifically, geometry - to life. Ponder the following...

In ancient Greece the advanced students of the philosopher Pythagoras who were engaged in deep studies of natural science and self-understanding were called mathematekoi, "those who studied all". The word mathema signified "learning in general" and was the root of the Old English mathein, "to be aware", and the Old German munthen, "to awaken". Today, (...) it's a shame children are exposed to numbers merely as quantities instead of qualities and characters with distinct personalities relating to each other in various patterns. If only they could see numbers and shapes as the ancients did, as symbols of principles available to teach us about the natural structure and processes of the universe and to give us perspective on human nature. (p. xvii)

T'is a shame indeed! Using only the three classic tools of the geometer (compass, straightedge and pencil), so far I have discovered the spiritual power of the monad (1), the birthing power of the dyad (2) and the unmistakeable harmony of the triad (3).

Take a moment to think about the number 3, for example. In our daily lives, the pattern of the triad is pervasive: yesterday, today and tomorrow... breakfast, lunch, dinner... red, yellow, green lights... morning, noon, night... ready, set, go!... three strikes, yer out!... going once, going twice, sold!... easy as 1-2-3... three cheers for... Do you see it now? Three represents wholeness. Two is not enough and Four seems superfluous. Three is perfect. It's also a pattern that most world religions have tapped into in some way, shape or form. (Yikes, there it is again!! :-))

Anyway, this book is nothing short of miraculous - it's has gotten me interested in numbers... and I'm only up to 5! It encourages first-hand experience with these patterns and, before I even knew what was happening, I was making circles, vesicas pisces and constructing three-dimensional shapes out of scrap paper (see accompanying photo). My next task is to create my own set of Borromean Rings.

Who knew there was a world of wonder hiding beneath the intimidating and boring world of mathematics? Or perhaps you consider yourself a math atheist. :-)

Pace e bene,