glimpses of God

Look for God in unexpected places...

You just might even see a johnny jump-up blooming in late fall.

letting go

More on this "less" theme...

I read the book The Fall of Freddie the Leaf by Leo Buscaglia - a beautiful story for young and old about seasons and acceptance.

Freddie the Leaf was so thrilled to be living in the spring and the summer. But when fall came, he started to worry. He saw his friends around him start to fall, and he wasn't so sure he was ready to join them. What would the ground be like? What would the fall be like?

It reminded me of our friend Carol who recently died. She hung on, not wanting to leave this life and the loves all around her. But she got to a point where she let go with grace, and she was herself right up until the end - always giving, always hospitable. 

I saw this little leaf on the morning of her funeral. It was so striking - the entire tree was bare except for this one little leaf. And I thought about how I hold on. How I like to control things. How it's hard for me to let go. 

Funerals have a way of reminding you of what's important in life. After being with my grandmas as they were dying, and hearing Carol's story, I am reminded to let go. To free fall, not knowing where I will land or what it will be like. To let go of the little things, and then - when it's my time - to hopefully let go in the biggest way.

giving and getting

I decided to do a little Hallowe'en research project, just because. Hallowe'en seems to be a bit about alter egos - trying on different personas - so maybe I'm trying on the "student with a research project" persona right now.

The Gaelic festival called "Samhain" was celebrated on October 31st. It was believed that on this day, the boundaries between the living and the dead overlapped. Masks and costumes were worn to appease the spirits and gourds cut into frightening faces. Doesn't sound like it was a fun evening - more of a "let's get through this alive" kind of evening where people feared for their lives. But then St. Patrick changed things a little bit, according to legend. He wanted Christians to celebrate the saints who have gone before us - not to fear them or fear death. Apparently, St. Patrick started going door to door, spreading good cheer by giving out small cakes and sweets.

So when did it turn from being about the giving of sweets to the getting? I guess for a while, when trick-or-treating for candy became more popular, many looked down on the practice. I love this little tidbit: in 1948, members of the Madison Square Boys Club in New York City carried a parade banner protesting Hallowe'en that said "American Boys Don't Beg."

Well, we've come a long way, boys. There's a big part of me that likes Hallowe'en - it's mostly fun and candy hangovers and creative costumes. I'm not a huge fan of the gore and scary stuff and neither are my girls. Last night, we went around our neighbourhood looking for "happy houses" to approach for candy.

me and Raggedy Ann

But it made me think about other events that have become "getting" times for my kids - birthdays, Christmas, and Easter. And that's what makes these times special too - the treats that come along with them. But I hope that I'm also creating lots of times in the seasonal year when giving is expected and encouraged and fun.

I'm happy to see the high school pick up on something that church youth groups have been doing for awhile: trick or eat, where they go around to people's homes to pick up items for the local food bank. I hope that this continues to catch on - for the young trick or treaters too - so people will not only stock up on sweets for October 31st, but also cans and boxes and food for those who really need it.

I have found that among its other benefits, giving liberates the soul of the giver. - Maya Angelou

getting ready for Hallowe'en

Hallowe'en is definitely a favourite holiday in this household. We plan our costumes months in advance, and they usually change at least 3 times. But as of today, we've sorted out what we'll be this October 31st: Raggedy Ann and a dog. These 3 things have been indispensable for me in gathering costumes over the years:

1. thrift stores

2. my mom (who can sew at the last minute)

making a hat for Raggedy Ann

3. face paint

Here's a little memory trail of costumes from other years:

a rainbow

Pippi Longstocking

scarecrow

puppy

a cat who wears eye shadow

Well, I'm off this weekend to load up on crappy candy. And you?

P.S. I really would love another tradition besides handing out crappy candy. I don't want to be a scrooge and not hand it out, or not let my children gather it, but really. It's too much. And it's crappy. And it lasts for way too long the way we ration it out.

song for autumn

Song for Autumn by Mary Oliver

In the deep fall
    don't you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it will be to touch
    the earth instead of the
nothingness of air and the endless
    freshets of wind?

And don't you think
the trees themselves, especially those with mossy,
    warm caves, begin to think
of the birds that will come — six, a dozen — to sleep inside their bodies?


And don't you hear
the goldenrod whispering goodbye,
    the everlasting being crowned with the first
tuffets of snow?




The pond
    vanishes, and the white field over which
the fox runs so quickly brings out
    its blue shadows. And the wind pumps its
bellows. And at evening especially,
    the piled firewood shifts a little,
longing to be on its way.

the magic of a fall fair

Some friends tipped us off to a great little fall fair happening this past weekend: the Rockton World's Fair. I had this craving for an autumn small town fair. It had been years since I had been at one. We went on Sunday, and we were not disappointed. It was everything I'd hoped for and more:

healthy food like caramel apples,

gravy-smothered poutine,

and many deep-fried possibilities

a peaceful ride on the ferris wheel, a stunning view of the Niagara escarpment
complete with heavy metal music in the background

horses

and, of course, a demolition derby

The afternoon was magic. Pure magic. At first, I scoffed at the idea of sitting through a demolition derby. But after the first round, I was hooked. The noise, the smell of gasoline - these almost faded into the background. I was rooting for the underdog - or sometimes just the one in second place. And things could turn in a second - the one you thought was a shoe-in would all of a sudden get hit, spin around, and be unable to move. We could NEVER predict who would come out on top. And I liked that. I also loved how all of the cars came out to start the race looking like this yellow one above: like crap. Wheels wobbly, tires on the front but not the back, bumpers barely hanging on, coughing, sputtering, ready for one more round of glory.

the call of autumn

In the changing season of autumn, I hear a call. Like the call of the Canada geese flying south. Wake up, they honk at me, listen, heed this call...

A call to newness. To set new goals, to try new things, to be made new.

A call to discern. To use my time in wise ways. Not to waste it and not to stuff it too full. Both can be mighty temptations.

A call to walk and to experience. To hear the crispy crunch of dried fallen leaves underfoot. To inhale the pungent smells of autumn. To taste apples and pumpkins and squash and kale and sweet potatoes and cinnamon and cloves and grapes and to be grateful for another year here. To see - to notice - the small changes in colour every day. Take note! Because soon they'll be gone. Sooner than I can imagine if I don't stop and look.

A call to rest. To harvest the dying plants of summer. To make the land ready for winter rest. To quiet my mind. Because busy is so easy, and rest so hard. To slow down. To savour.

This year, this is the call of fall.

glimpses of fall

I do love fall. The crisp mornings, the warm sun, and the colour. I think it's my favourite time of year to go for a walk.

So yesterday I went to one of my favourite walking spots - where I remember walking with my grandparents - the Mill Race in St. Jacobs. Feels like a little bit of home to me.

This little muskrat was my traveling companion for a piece of the walk - him swimming, me walking. He didn't seem to mind my presence, and I was delighted by his. I could walk at a comfortable pace, keeping stride with his little legs in the water.

stopping to wash his face and paws

busy Mrs. Spider

It honestly makes me catch my breath - all of this changing and beauty around me. And to watch this spider spinning this delicate web it makes me think that all of my September spinning that has seemed futile and fragile might actually be worthwhile and even beautiful.