Tag Archives: Adversity and Resilience

After the Storm

Carol A. Hand

My little dog lay in pain
suffering
slowing dying
a victim of unintended incompetence
and lack of compassion in a capitalistic culture
I could only bear witness
offering soft hands and soothing words
without the skills and knowledge
to heal him

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After the Storm – July 14, 2019

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I learned survival and healing are possible
even in situations that sometimes appear hopeless
if you are willing and able to pay enough
for competence and caring

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After the Storm (2) – July 14, 2019

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Nature doesn’t charge a fee
for the beauty she shares for all to see
She merely waits patiently for us
to awaken to our responsibilities
to care

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After the Storm (3) – July 14, 2019

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July Reflections – 2019

Carol A. Hand

This morning, I found myself wondering about the reflections I posted during mid-July in past years and decided to take a retrospective journey. For decades, July has been a time spent gardening. Watching the miracle of life unfurl from dry seeds never ceases to fill me with awe. Tending plants gives me a chance to focus on helping living creatures in practical, grounded, and perhaps, creative ways.

Foxglove – July 9, 2019

Gardening is like life in many ways. It’s not easy – or predictable either. Each of my past eight years gardening here has presented challenges to address – deer before the high fence went up, invasions by slugs during wet years, droughts in early spring and late summer, and deluges that wash away seeds that have just been planted or crush tender plants. This year is the year of the rabbits. The population of little bunnies that can get through fencing has exploded.

Still, I love the chance to work with gardens and attempt to solve perplexing issues. People are often more difficult for me to work with and I sometimes wonder why my path led me from a career in ecology to one in social work…

But back to my journey through past posts. I hope you will join me The posts reflect topics I often ponder when gardening when I have a chance to wander through time – how to find common ground in a divided world, how to be present in the moment, and the importance of relationships with others and the natural environment.

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July 13, 2014 – Finding Common Ground”

When I walked into the office of an inter-tribal agency on the first morning of my new job as deputy director of health and human services, it was clear how easy it was for people to be divided. Staff for the five programs at the time only felt ownership for their programs. They resented any expectations of collective responsibility for the welfare of the agency or tribes. They fought over which program paid for stationary and who could use the one computer. They didn’t question the appropriateness of imposing state and federal requirements on tribal communities. And in situations where staff struggled to meet program requirements, there was only censure and no help. The eleven-member Board of Directors comprised of the Chairpersons of member tribes was also easily divided, concerned only about meeting the interests of their respective tribal community. Why would it be otherwise if they expected to be reelected? There was little recognition of the needs of urban Native American populations in the state, and strong resistance to any cross-ethnic collaboration.

Looking back, I realize that at each step, I tried to find common ground among my department staff, my agency colleagues, other oppressed communities, and with funders and administrators as well. It is so easy for people who are oppressed to see others who are oppressed as the enemy. Who loses and who benefits from divisions among oppressed people? Clearly, those in power benefit from deflecting attention away from the role they play as our puppet masters. We keep each other oppressed and all too often, kill each other off while those in power profit financially and enjoy the illusion that they are smarter, more developed morally and culturally, and better fit to impose their hegemony.

Tree of Peace – by John Kahionhes Fadden, 1991 (Source)

 

Who benefits from the continuing conflict between Israel and Palestine? Only those who sell their souls and the hopes and dreams and lives of other people for the illusion of personal safety and status, those who wish to exploit oil and other resources with greater ease, and those who get rich by selling their weapons. Those who lose are ordinary people on both sides. Homes and lives are lost on both sides and children on both sides grow up in a war zone that teaches them to fear and hate their neighbors for generations yet to come. We all lose from a world at war, from a world where people are brutally murdered by governments for no other reason than securing the power and privilege of the ruling class. And we all lose when generations are denied the right to develop and contribute their gifts to the rest of the human community.

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July 10, 2015 – “Draw a Monument”

It was a July morning in 2011. An odd group of faculty, mostly from the English and art departments of a university, gathered for an in-service to learn how to use art as a vehicle for unlocking people’s stories. The instructor began.

“You have two minutes to draw the first thing that comes to mind for each of the words or phrases I mention. Don’t worry about technique. That will just interfere with your ability to tap what is most important to you.

“Draw the ‘safe place when you were a child.’ Draw ‘pressure – the pressure you feel from all of the demands that you deal with in your life.’ Now, draw a ‘monument.’”

For me, the images I drew that day were all linked to nature, to the natural world. That has always been my source of balance and solace in times of challenge and uncertainty. And now, as nature is threatened ever more by forces of exploitative disregard and destruction, it’s hard to hold on to a sense of hope and peace some days.

Unlike my colleagues, I didn’t draw an edifice of marble or concrete, I drew a tree – a living monument of what helps us survive on this planet. If Jared Diamond’s (2005) thesis is accurate, could it be that one of the final death knells for societies is the destruction of the forests that blanket the earth and give us all oxygen to breathe?…

Beloved Willow – injured in June 2015, removed in May 2018 due to fatal injury

 

As I work at grueling physical labor,
I watch my thoughts and feelings,
I sweat and swear,
Laugh at myself and my struggles – and find peace,
Sometimes present and other times floating in memories of past times and places,
Talking to plants and earthworms,
To the robins that are watching
Eagerly waiting to explore the earth I’ve just uncovered
And swatting at mosquitoes (I’m sorry to say)

I arise the next morning knowing there are still new jobs to be done. There is no ego or allure of fame and fortune involved. I know what I am doing will not save us from the future, but it gives me comfort to know that around the globe, people are tending the earth with hard work and loving care. Living simply and breathing love into the work we do whatever it might be – it’s what we can do for ourselves and the future of our grandchildren and our world.

“Actually, while it won’t be easy to reduce our impact, it won’t be impossible either. Remember that impact is the product of two factors: population, multiplied times impact per person.” (Diamond, p. 524)

The trees and the gardens we tend and the love we breathe into the world around us are the most important monuments we can leave.

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July 10, 2016 – Reflections on July 10, 2016

Sitting on my back step a few days ago
A musical voice drew my attention
“Oh you’re so beautiful, you make me so happy.”
I peeked through the fence and saw my neighbor,
turning away from the fence to walk home.
She talks to the flowers and plants in my gardens
and always touches my heart with her lovely spirit.
I ran out to invite her into the yard
She already knew about the geranium –
another neighbor rescued it from an early death
and left it as a gift early in the spring
What more could one ask of life than friends
who share the love of life and beauty?

Sara’ Gift

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July 9, 2017 – Reflections about Being a Parent and Grandparent

When my daughter was born,
my view of the world forever changed.

Life was no longer something I peered at
from a safe distance
I felt it deeply – glowing in my heart
Powerful, shifting emotions
forced me to realize how precious
and precarious life can be
Holding each of my grandchildren for the first time
intensified my sensitivity and commitment
to do all in my power to be a loving presence
Watching them as they grow
amplifies both joy and pain
celebrating their accomplishments
suffering when they encounter challenges

Self-portrait by my granddaughter – July 7, 2017

 

Sometimes all I can do is
to simply try to be a loving presence

 

My granddaughter’s portrait of her Ahma – July 8, 2017

 

In times such as these it’s not easy
to believe the future holds bright possibilities
Let our hearts awaken and glow
with celebratory joy

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July 12, 2018 – Awakening Slowly

Awakening slowly
after a stormy night’s
seemingly dreamless sleep
frequently interrupted
by the urgent sound of rain
pounding on windows and roof
accompanied by booming thunder
that shook the house
to its very foundations
yet resting unafraid
and rising gently
to greet the day
gardens transformed
overnight

July 12, 2018

other awakenings grace my days
encountering random kindness
in unexpected places like the city bus
as a stately elder gentleman
reached across the divisiveness
so prevalent here today
to bring kindness and comfort
into the lives of others
and graciously dealt with
rejection from those
effectively conditioned
to fear difference and joy
I couldn’t leave the bus
without thanking him
in the only words
that came to me
“Sir, you are a blessing to others”

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July 18, 2018 – Reflections about Divisive Nationalism

Greeting the cool sunny morning
listening to the joyous music of birdsong
deeply peaceful yet unable to drown out
the drumbeat of nationalism
that threatens to destroy us all

It’s our own consumption and complacency
clinging to old myths of benevolent exceptional empires
that keep us from seeing shared humanity
on an earth with no dividing lines
except for scars left by exploitation and war

It matters little which kleptocrats rule
when we choose to see others as an enemy
rather than to listen deeply to the heartbeats
of a planet we are entrusted to lovingly tend

“Earth Day” Flag by John McConnell, Wikipedia

 

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Today, I will visit Pinto, my little dog, who’s in the hospital recovering from an operation.

Pinto – July 13, 2019

Maybe I’ll have time to edit my manuscript and pull a few weeds, too, grateful for the gifts of beloved companions, a small relatively peaceful space on earth to tend, and the responsibilities to still care for others. I will continue to do what I can to build common ground in a divided world without compromising integrity, to be present in the moment despite the pain that sometimes brings, and to nurture healthy relationships with others and the natural environment by walking softly on the earth.

A Heartfelt Thankyou

Carol A. Hand

I don’t think I ever told you
how much your support and kindness
meant to me during my graduate studies
You taught me so much more than research
with your kindness and artful diplomacy

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You showed me how to teach
and stayed the course as my advisor
through so many changing research topics

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The one thing I regret is that
someone other than you
is handing me a symbolic diploma
in the photo of my final graduation ceremony

*

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I would guess that your humility keeps you from knowing
that I only attended the ceremony to honor you
on behalf of all of the Native American students
you mentored who were not as fortunate as I
to survive the grueling process you mastered
walking between two different worlds
with a kind heart and joyful spirit intact

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All I can say is chi miigwetch, dear friend
I will do my best to honor your gifts
by sharing what I learned from you
with others I encounter on this journey

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for G.D.S. with deep gratitude and love

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Remembering Rita

Carol A. Hand

It has been weeks since I have had time to post and April has flown by. I have had brief respites to simply observe beauty.

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April 18, 2019 – Early morning moon

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April 13, 2019 – Crossing the Bong Bridge from Superior, WI

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I have also made it a priority to spend time with my daughter and grandchildren when possible.

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April 21, 2019 – Watching a creative and masterful performance of Cirque du Soleil with family

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April 28, 2019 – Sharing Sunday brunch

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Mostly, though, I have been working on the two classes I am teaching this semester.

Saturday, as I prepared for the macro practice class I co-teach with a colleague, I was lost in a stream of consciousness moment when one thought lead me down a path of memories that didn’t seem to have any logical connections other than my long life. As I put skin cream on my legs after my shower, I noticed my right knee once again. It’s still a bit puffy despite the decades that have passed since it was injured when I was taking care of Rita. Thinking of Rita always reminds me how precious and unpredictable life is.

Rita was a tiny woman when she contracted the brain cancer that was killing her slowly despite operations, radiation treatments, and medications. Medications caused her body to become bloated and stimulated her appetite. By the time I was hired as a home health aide to help care for her during the last year of her life, she had gained a lot of weight. She needed assistance with self-care and walking. She was often lost in another world of thoughts but she did love to eat. She would often joke about the meals I prepared. Cooking has never been something I liked doing, but I tried my best.

I was warned to remain emotionally distant by my employer. “She’s going to die no matter what you do, so don’t get attached.” Despite the warning, I discovered something that has stayed with me when I teach. I learned to care about her deeply and let her know I cared in many ways even though I knew our time together was limited. I knew I couldn’t do anything to cure her disease, but I could bring “soft hands and laughter” into her life no matter how long or short it was meant to be. I would sit and listen to her talk, cook things she liked, and take her on excursions when she expressed a desire to get out of the house even for a moment.

Gradually, Rita lost her ability to walk and spent much of her time in bed. Toward the end of her life, when I was helping her move from her bed to the wheelchair she had to use at that point, she had a seizure. It was heavy lifting for me at the best of times. I weighed at least 30 pounds less than Rita. As I was lifting her that day, her body went rigid as she shook with powerful spasms. It wasn’t possible for me to lift her back on the bed or help her flex into a sitting position. With my arms wrapped around her body, all I could do was lower her gently to the floor, injuring my knee in the process. With gentle hands and a calming voice, I helped Rita relax and was finally able to get her to help me lift her into the wheelchair.

She lived far longer than predicted. I wasn’t sure that I would be able to be with her until the end because I planned to move soon to another state. When I let my employer know I would be moving a month in advance, they fired me immediately and brought in another aide. The family was angry and asked me to stay and hired me themselves to fill in the hours when the agency aide was not with Rita. I agreed to help as long as I could.

When I arrived for my first shift, I heard the new aide yelling. I peeked into Rita’s bedroom and saw the aide roughly slapping a washcloth over Rita’s face. At that point, Rita was in the final stages of her disease. She required total care and was unable to speak. I walked in to help the aide and let the family know what I witnessed. Within a week, Rita was gone.

Although I grieved her death, I knew that I had done the best I could to make her last year as kind and comfortable as possible. I realized that spending time with Rita was a gift. Being present in the moment and caring about others are especially important in times of transition. It lessened my sadness about loss.

My knee remained painful but surviving childhood abuse taught me how to function despite physical pain. Later, I learned that the injury resulted in “knee effusion, or water on the knee.” Although it was bruised, swollen, and stiff, I was still able to walk. A supportive, flexible knee bandage helped reduce the pain although it took more than a year to fully heal. Decades later, it’s still a little puffy but usually works just fine.

Perhaps my Saturday morning reminiscence about Rita was triggered by a frightening experience on Friday evening. I fell asleep curled up in my rocking chair, exhausted, after teaching the second to the last research class before the end of the semester. I awoke with painful cramps in my legs and was initially unable to walk. It was a frightening reminder of how unpredictable life can be. Thankfully the pain subsided quickly. (Next time I’ll take naps elsewhere!)

Reviewing student papers has meant hours of sitting in an uncomfortable chair, first reading original sources to make sense of student papers, and then, hours on the computer grading and commenting to help students learn how to read carefully and write clearly.

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April 16, 2019 – Grading…

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Like my experience with Rita, grading has been a mixed blessing. In the process, I learned a lot about access to safe, drinkable water around the globe. Someday, I hope I have time to synthesize what I learned from the kaleidoscopic assortment of research studies my students explored. The process of reviewing many different vantage points about the crises we are facing, however, reminded me to keep things in perspective.

One third of the world’s population is without access to potable water or sanitation at the household level (Cumming, Elliott, Overbo, & Bartram, 2014). One third! And we continue fracking, spewing out plastic garbage, pouring more toxic chemicals on farmlands, and building yet more weapons. I am so grateful for the opportunity to play a role in raising student awareness about these issues. Grading has also left little time for me to write or visit blogs. That is unlikely to change in the next few weeks before the semester ends.

Next semester I will have the privilege of working with the same group of students. Throughout my years of teaching, I have remembered to be mindful of the lessons Rita taught me.

Be present in the moment and care about each student.

I only have a short time to spend with each cohort of students before they move on with their lives. All I can do is my best and hope they will learn what they need to know while we are together so they are prepared to face a challenging and uncertain future with the ability to think critically and respond with caring creativity.

Work Cited:

Oliver Cumming, Mark Elliott, Alicia Overbo, & Jamie Bartram (2014). Does global progress on sanitation really lag behind water? An analysis of global progress on community- and household-level access to safe water and sanitation. Plos One.

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Rainy Day Reflections

Carol A. Hand

Rainy Day Reflections – March 27, 2019
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Greeting the morning
listening
to the sounds of the awakening city
the loud constant whirring of traffic
on wet pavement just before school starts
joined by deep thrumming in the distance
as the train whistle sounds and the school bell shrills
Sounds crescendoing accompanied by thunder
rumbling in the distance then booming overhead

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Retreating inside
listening
to the refrigerator quietly humming
before my dog and parakeet awaken
to greet the morning with song

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I miss the long ago sounds of the forest
but I have to believe there’s a reason
for being here now
questioning
whether simple loving actions matter
contemplating
the importance of purpose,
perspicacity, persistence, and patience
as the storm moves on to the east,
clouds clear and traffic sounds fade
allowing bird song to be heard once again
as my little dog awakens and explores the new day
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“I think I’ll try to climb up the steps.”
“I know I can do this!”
“I can do this, too!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A Snowy Birthday – 2019

Carol A. Hand

The super moon brightened the sky
on the night before my birthday
despite increasing cumulus clouds
promising another imminent storm

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February 19, 2019

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The snowiest February on record
was older than me on my birthday
yet the sight on the morning after
brought this year close to a tie

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February 21, 2019

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It seems all I’ve done is shovel snow,
grade student papers, and prepare classes
My yak trax are wearing thin with use
and my little car, White Pony,
is surrounded by growing piles of snow

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February 23, 2019

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Given the weather forecast for this week
we’re likely to set a new record
Ah, my aching back and shoulders
make me hope the meteorologists are wrong…

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Yet I am grateful for so many things
The chance to work with colleagues
who genuinely care about students and teaching
The opportunity to work with students
who are eager to learn and think critically
Virtual friends whose creativity, passion, and kindness
bring blessings of beauty, laughter, and new knowledge
A long life that has brought me to an old house
in the northlands where I can marvel
at the beauty of tiny crystals and wonder
how many billions it takes to blanket the earth
for hundreds of square miles under three feet of snow
And the health and strength to shovel
and shovel
and shovel
wondering
if spring
will
ever
come
again

 

PS – If you’re curious to know how my car got the name “White Pony,” here are some links to older posts that tell pieces of the story:

https://voices-from-the-margins.blog/2015/01/01/reflections-on-winters-past/

https://voices-from-the-margins.blog/2015/07/25/la-joie-de-la-vie/

Reflections about Aging

Carol A. Hand

Soon I will greet
my second septuagenarian birthday
I never envisioned living this long
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As I look back I realize
there is one piece of advice
I wish to share with those who are younger –
Take care of your physical body
It may last far longer than you imagine
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I look at my sagging skin suit, chuckling
It has had to stretch and shrink
more times than I can remember
and despite the claims of clothing manufacturers,
one size never really fits everyone (anyone?) well

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Me early in my journey

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Now my skin suit is a bit too big
Perhaps that’s a blessing
the bones that support me
are lighter, more porous and fragile
making flights of imagination and fantasy easier
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Still, this body serves me well
reminding me to exercise mindful discipline
and move with a greater sense of purpose
humbly, gratefully, and compassionately

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my daughter’s most recent birthday – October 18, 2018

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January Ramblings – 2019

Carol A. Hand

Sometimes my creative muse moves to the background

in order to free-up space for the critical analytical realist

making it hard to focus on beauty and hope

as awareness of the suffering of the world takes center stage

This time, the transition has been almost more than I could bear

bringing to mind other times in my younger years

when pursuing new possibilities and starting over felt possible

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I remember the lessons my mother taught me through example:

Reflections about Time (January 9, 2019)

These days, past, present and future

seem to flow seamlessly together

in dreams and waking hours

highlighting how past actions

have contributed to precious gifts

I never could have predicted

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My mother meeting her great grandson for the first time – March, 1999

 

Unbeknowst to me, my mother’s example

taught me a powerful coping strategy

for surviving times of adversity

that continues to serve me well

It helps to focus intensely on creating

something kind, healing, and hopeful . . .

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My grandson’s 20th birthday – January 10, 2019

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I remember setting off on a journey for the sake of my daughter:

I Remember … 11/10/2014

I remember other storms approaching – the wind silent but the air filled with the electricity of threat and possibility. I survived. But have I worn the grooves of hope and love deeply enough into my spirit to weather the storms that I know are coming? As I sat on my doorstep watching the first of the snowflakes begin to fall in the darkened landscape, I wondered what the winter of these times will bring. I can feel the beat of my heart quicken with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

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Duluth Morning – November 10, 2014

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My thoughts are transported back to an earlier time, the first warning of storms to come. I was standing in the Connecticut cottage where I lived with my infant daughter looking out of the picture window toward the trees and down at the river that flowed past the front of the cabin. Then, as today, the air was filled with the electricity of an approaching storm. Yet in the past, I awoke from a dream remembering some of the images and insights of a guide who sometimes speaks to me through dreams. “A storm is coming,” the guide said.

“Times ahead will be hard. The earth has shifted on its axis and the polarities of the earth’s gravitational fields are changing. People will not know they are being affected by these shifts, but polarities will be amplified. Those on a path of light will glow brighter while those on a path of darkness will grow stronger in their quest for control and destruction. You have a choice. You may leave now. You don’t have to stay to face the storm.”

How could I leave an infant to face the coming storms without a mother who loved her? I certainly wasn’t a perfect mother, but I loved my daughter enough to choose to seek the light again and again. I would fail again and again, but decades later, I know I did the best I could. I’m not a perfect grandmother either, and I’m unsure what I can do to help my daughter and grandchildren prepare for the coming storms, but I trust that whatever comes, love for others and for this wondrous and beautiful world and universe are what will matter most in the years ahead.

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Now, I feel compelled to face the reality that there are difficult times ahead. During the weeks it took me to reconfigure the research course I have been teaching from a one- semester course to a two-semester course, I remembered my mother’s example and the message in the dream I had when my daughter was a baby. I kept working despite deepening alarm about the state of the world.

As I reviewed videos to rebuild the online content for the 50/50 face-to-face and online hybrid course, I found myself wishing I could set off as I did decades ago to find a safe space for my family. To find a community of thoughtful people working together to build an inclusive community like the ones I romantically imagine my Ojibwe ancestors created.

Reviewing videos that I used to think of as anomalous examples of the cruelty some humans express, The Deadly Deception and The Stanford Prison Experiment, only brought to mind the brutality of our current treatment of migrants, refugees, and asylum-seekers.

Ripping children away from their families and placing them in prison-like institutions while adults were placed in tent cities or abandoned warehouses that are reminiscent of concentration camps. I felt and feel powerless to change such obvious evil. This brutality and the inaction of those who see themselves as enlightened “leaders” cause me to wonder if the dream I had might, in fact, be true.

Several of the other videos I reviewed added to my realization that disregard for life has been and is still inextricably built into the predominant values and institutions in many nations. If you have the courage and stomach, here are links to a couple reminders that presage even harder times to come for people and the earth.

Poisoned Water:

https://www.pbs.org/video/poisoned-water-jhhegn/

Cancer Alley, Louisiana – Victims of Environmental Racism:

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But the cruelty and disregard for life are nothing new and they’re not confined to one nation, religion, or culture. Still, looking at the super moon a couple days ago helped me find the strength to continue this sometimes heavy and lonely journey.

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Super Moon – January 20, 2019

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In the Depths of Winter (January 21, 2019)

In the depths of winter on a cold dark night

the super blood wolf moon is a welcome sight

a reminder of blessings beneath her comforting light

 

She reflects the sun for all whether they see her or not

inspiring me to repeat a Reiki prayer

“Just for today –

“I will refrain from anger
“I will not worry
“I will be grateful
“I will do my work diligently
“I will be kind to myself and others”

realizing the best I can do is to try to be conscious

and disciplined enough to make these choices

moment to moment…

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Speaking of choices, I do find reasons for lighthearted laughter as I join Richard Simmons and the Silver Foxes every day.  I hope some of you will join me and remember to find reasons and time to laugh and to play even in the darkest of moments.

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Blowing bubbles – 2002

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January Reflections – 2019

Carol A. Hand

Ah, here we are in the depths of winter

surrounded by a sea of snow and ice

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Taking my dog for neighborhood walks in not an option now

although he misses them and exploring would be nice

Still, he often has a chance to go outside

Gingerly traversing perilous paths

I watch him slip and slide

on sidewalks that just freeze over once again

despite hours of chipping ice and shoveling snow

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Balancing is a necessary skill in times like these

Gray skies and bleak news day after day

take their toll on hope for a kinder, peaceful future

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Yet my old cracked sorel boots augmented by yak trax

help give me footing in slippery times

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while moments of beauty and classes to prepare

help remind me why it’s even more important

to continue caring and creating anyway

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Wishing you all steady footing and creative focus

during challenging times…

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