All in good time…
Do you sometimes wonder what in the sam hill is going on???
I do…
And then luckily Starshine will call from her Papa’s house and say,
Mama, you won’t be believe what Little Gem just did…
She was up on the kitchen counter grabbing a knife to stab me with and then she said,
All in good time…
All in good time…
Isn’t that hilarious???
So funny I forgot to laugh…
That kind of information about knives sends me into vertigo,
and I have to ask,
without a hint of insinuation,
Are you under supervision???
Starshine always reassures me,
Mama, you know you don’t have to worry…
Papa’s meditating in his leather chair…
And I know my sister would never really use a knife on me…
It is just like the time when I was running your biggest kitchen knife back and forth along the top of my thigh,
threatening to hurt Sissy…
I was just making a point,
to get some attention…
I offer this story to quash any impression that I am free from parenting issues…
Like everyone else,
I’m learning as I go along,
on this magic carpet ride…
You can't stop us because our eyes can see...
Yesterday afternoon I went for an acupuncture treatment to see if I could clear the swamp out of my meridians…
On my way out the door,
after my appointment,
I stopped to talk to the man sitting on the sidewalk of Homer Street after I put a toonie in his paper cup…
He said,
Hi Dear…
Looks like you survived Christmas…
I decided not to go there…
Off the cuff comments about Christmas and survival can throw me into a wormhole like there’s no tomorrow…
I asked him if he’d had a warm meal on the 25th…
He said,
I had TWO beautiful meals…
THEY came and got me…
Everything worked out so well…
The minute I thought of something that I needed it was there…
Just like clockwork…
I said,
I’m so happy to hear that…
It sounds like you connected to your power…
Thank you for that message,
I needed it…
He said,
You’re going to have a very happy new year…
She comes down from Yellow Mountain...
Dirty chi…
Do you ever have the feeling that your blood,
is full,
of dust bunnies???
I have an earthly constitution,
and if things aren’t obviously moving,
and changing,
I become,
irritated,
and uncomfortable…
A lot of my dreams this week,
have been about cleaning…
Getting rid of junk,
and debris,
which is,
cluttering up my house…
A few days ago I had an early morning dream,
that smacked of colonialism,
and appropriation…
I was returning home,
from fishing and gathering,
to my beautiful house and garden,
surrounded by a forest…
Some white men were there…
They stuck a wooden sign in the ground,
right before my very eyes…
The sign said,
FOR SALE!!!
I cried,
What are you doing???
This is my house and my garden…
YOU can’t just put it up for sale!!!
They said,
Oh yes we can…
WE have a sign…
There’s already another family living in that cute little coach house,
you have,
at the back of the property,
and they aren’t going anywhere…
Then to add insult,
to injury,
they stuck up a sign of OWNERSHIP,
right next to me…
I stood there in disbelief,
and confusion…
I tried to convince them to leave,
but they refused…
What’s worse is,
they’d already made a mess of the place,
in such short order…
So I consoled myself,
with cleaning a stove,
that had been left,
to rust,
out in the weather…
It was filthy with ashes,
and char…
I scrubbed away,
all the debris,
of negligent housekeeping…
and as I worked,
with bottled rage,
I chanted to myself,
like a steady drum…
Clear me of negativity…
Clear me of negativity…
Clear me of negativity…
for a higher good…
I woke up feeling discombobulated,
and ambiguous,
like I wasn’t sure,
if I was the one,
who had taken land from the people,
or if the land had been taken away from me,
and my people…
I stayed there,
in my feather bed,
breathing into,
my pericardium,
and the weight of the new world,
on my shoulders…
Sending a stream of grey water,
out through my toes,
and a ribbon of gratitude,
into the universe,
for the gift of this sweet roof,
over my head…
Some day we'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun...
Noise assassin…
Yesterday I went to my daughters’ school for hula-hooping at lunch time…
I sat in her classroom with her while she ate her sandwich and made some casual inquiries into why there were a list of names on the board,
with marks against them…
Each named child articulated their crime,
“I looked at my neighbour…”
“I had to go to the bathroom while the teacher was talking…”
“I pushed my chair to far back and bumped into the person behind me,
by accident…” (grin of white lie)
And then they articulated the punishment,
If you get two marks against your name you get a point rouge,
a letter goes home to your parents,
they have to sign it,
and then…
I didn’t catch the drift of the rest,
because this happened inside of me…
Until I remembered that I used to engage in similar practices as a new teacher,
because I’d been conditioned to believe that if a child was moving,
or talking to a neighbour,
they weren’t focused on the almighty ME,
and my lesson of instruction…
There should be nothing more scintillating that what I had to say,
at the front of the room,
standing and de-livering…
Discipline,
respect,
order,
attention,
are words holding multiple meanings…
Bathroom???
This word is unequivocal,
and you’re going to wait until I am finished talking…
Thank goodness for common sense,
and the book Childhood and Post-Colonization: Power, Education and Contemporary Practice…
This reading shot a cannon into my classroom reality back in 2006…
After your world has been blown to smithereens there is not going back…
EVER…
I’ll guarantee it…
110%…
Last semester I had to use the ladies room (both numbers),
while the teacher was talking…
I had to go real bad…
But I held it in,
until I was all Knee in My Package,
at the institutionally determined break time…
You could call this karma,
or a teachable moment…
I took Little Gem out of school for an afternoon of hooky,
to recover from going green…
We went to the Bloedel Conservatory,
to listen to,
some bird language…
The birds were quiet…
When I asked why, Mr. Caretaker said,
You should come here on a sunny day,
then they talk up a storm…
Birds are just like us,
they need sunlight to sing…
Mother of mercy…
This makes me wonder whether birds in captivity,
have more freedom of speech,
than children in 2010 classrooms…
I will play a rhapsody...
What does it mean when you go wandering with your class and another looking for magic in a sub-division and one boy (on the autism-spectrum) is always at the back of the group, way back, and when you ask him if he sees everything and that’s why he takes longer, he looks at you with a ‘how did you know?’ and you say, “I’m like that too,” and you ask him why he has hearing aids and he tells you it’s to keep sounds out because it’s too much to handle and when you tell him, “I’m like that too,” he looks you right in the eye and smiles and you silently walk back to school together with the knowing of having found a new friend???
Canuck'd 