Love When the Sky is Falling

Ten years have past since that bright Tuesday that changed our lives.  Still, when I look back,  I tremble with the fear and anger I felt when The Towers fell.  I know enough to know that the primary emotion is fear, and then anger follows.  I know that fear is a killer as well as its close buddy anger.  I know also there is no love in fear and anger.  I know that I must always pray for my enemies for they are really my brothers, and if I think about it, they are me.  We are all made of the same stuff, and so are bound together.  Those who drove those airplanes in those buildings were most likely not thinking that we were all  the same.  I suspect they were thinking we were those guys.  This day's memory brings me to that core belief that we are the same, and that we are made to love each other and shakes it like nothing else ever has.  I remember my husband and I afterwards going to the icon corner and saying our prayers.  We made an effort to included prayers for love of enemies because I knew I did not want to.  I struggle with the old man when this day comes.  I know we are all in this together and that we are to love those who even seek to kill us.  Such a tall order for me on a day like this.  I also think of those who loved others and willingly gave their lives so that others might live.  So on a day that has such hatred, fear and anger, I remember also a day filled with love, kindness and bravery to such a degree, I can never get my head around some of it.  May I be more and more like the first responders and go in and love especially when the sky is falling.

Blue Skies

These skies are unbelievable!!!!! 

I have my sweet husband and partner in crime with me.  Our children are in school, and my husband and I  begin to make sure we have the space here for our things.  We have begun our adventure together in the USA.

As my husband said today, it took 45 years to get a Vuyadinov  in America, but it has finally happened.  My father-in-law always wanted his family to live in the US, but chose to live in Canada because David was on the way and it would have taken another year to immigrate to the USA.  Tata wanted his family to live in the New World, so he took his family to Canada since he had an Australian passport, and could live in Canada.  That man had the most powerful dream to live on after his death.  We are doing as he always wanted, and for which he sacrificed.  I loved, love that man and am so honored to fulfill his dream.

It's blue skies.

My Creative Journey to Now

Four years ago, I was stressed out.  Ok, I'm still stressed out, but now I can find happiness.   Four years ago, my father  just had his first brain surgery and I had a six month old baby and a three year old to care for.  I was stressed and I felt like I was not living my life fully.  I had talents I wanted to use, but I was not doing it.  It's hard work being a mother of small boys.  It's the best work I have ever done, but I needed to have time for my own work.  Work that was just about me.  I realized what was missing was my need to create.  Strangely enough I thought I needed photography. I had enjoyed photography in college, but  loved clay.  From that moment, I began to move toward acquiring the things needed to make art.  In a few months, I found a program that taught people how to have their own business and paid them for several months to do that so that they could become self sufficient. For many reasons my ceramic studio did not take off.  I make beautiful ceramic pieces and I still have stock. What learned through that part of the journey is that as a mother, I can't work as a ceramic artist.  I can't devote that time to ceramics and still have time to raise my boys.  What I do now is photography.  I keep learning that the small clear voice we hear in the time of quiet has the right idea. Whatever camera I have with me when I am out with boys become my creative tool.  It's not necessarily the camera, but the eye behind it that creates the image. This image is from my new phone. My blog allows me to write.  I have written since I was six years old.  I have never liked academic writing, but I love to write what is on my mind.  I thank God that I live in a time where I can have a blog. I publish my work, even if it's on a small scale and my audience is limited-it does not matter.  I am living a full life.

August Without My Sweetheart

It's August and that means we have many important dates to celebrate.  I hate being so far from the man I love especially in August, a month filled with anniversaries and birthdays.  David and I started officially dating in August, although we were close friends for a long time and many at seminary thought we were dating long before August.  We celebrate the day we became a couple.  I have never looked back. This year it marks sixteen years together.  He hasever been my companion, one I would always choose to take with me on any and all journeys difficult or otherwise.  He makes me laugh.  Perhaps that is one of the most important qualities I have looked for in a mate.  He has made me laugh in some of the most difficult times we have shared together.  Even when we fight, and yes, we do fight for we are a fiery couple, I never have thought "This is the end."  I know we are just clearing the air.  I feel safe and alive with him.  He is a strong man and a man with vision.  I would choose no other man to be with me through life.  The last day of August will mark our fourteenth wedding anniversary and I expect him to be with me.  He might miss the opening of the month, and maybe my birthday, but I hope to have him with me on that date.

Home Again

So, I am home again.  It's odd what things I have missed.  The first week back, I turned on a classic rock station and my heart sang.  I was hearing good music without government interference.  Hard to explain unless you have ever lived under "Can Con" or Canadian Content where it is the law to have a certain percentage of Canadian Content played.  I believe it's 60%.   At any rate, it hinders free expression and choice.  I have never liked it.  Here, I talk to folks in the grocery store, and my sons asks who these people are.  In Ontario, people don't do that.  I know in other parts of Canada they do.  I also know when I moved to Ontario I had to learn fast that people don't talk to each other.  They keep their own space.  It's different in the US.  I like that about The States.  I feel cozy like were are all in this together. I like the spirit of America where everyone's ideas are important even if you don't agree.  I know in recent years we have become polarized and  I hope this changes.  I hope we can remember that everyone has a right to his or her opinion and that they are not stupid, but they hold different values on different aspects to an issue.  We have had many before us who have fought and died so that we can think and live freely.  Let us remember that.  We have no right to freedom, but it is a gift given to us by our those who came before us and it is our duty to live so that our children can know the same freedom we have enjoyed.  

Letting Go

I have been steeped in purging this house and preparing to leave Hamilton for about three weeks now.  I has not been everyday, but we have put in a lot of work.  I have a friend here who loves to give to those in need and dreams of her own store of sorts where folks in need can just show up and get what they need.  Much is going to here.  I have had bags and bags of donations and recycle material go out our door for days on end.  It feels good.

I have had time to think of why it is that my living area is not what I would have hoped for.  Clearly when we moved in, we should have created a home, where we planed on leaving as soon as possible so we did not fix what we would have. Don't get me wrong.  We fixed a lot about this house when we moved in, but we never thought of it as the place we would live in for thirteen years.  That makes a difference.  My dad and I would talk about the importance of beginnings, and it would have probably been less stressful if I had heeded his wisdom.

On the other hand, I have always hung on to things and these last few weeks, I have let go of so much.  I kept hearing Fr. Thomas Hopko's words to me that even if it's a thread that binds us, we are still bound and not free.  I feel free now.  The other aspect of the letting go is something I never though of before.  I think I worried that letting go of certain material things would be letting go of me or my story.  Not so.  I have learned that the stories live in me and not in the material things I have.  In fact, I am more "me" without them.  I am happier without them. 

I am so peaceful now.  I am preparing to come home.  I want this beginning  to free me and allow me to live the life I wish, surrounded by my friends and family.  I ran away nearly twenty years ago to seek a great adventure in seminary.  I got a great one.  Even the hardships of these last seven years are gold and treasure to me.  They may have been painful, but the lessons I learned were precious and I have a clearer understanding of things.  I am so grateful for those I have met on this part of my life journey. Those people who I have met and who I love have been a refuge for me and my family these last seven years and I only regret I could have been better friends to them.  I love you, and you will always have a sweet spot in my heart for you have been kind to me when I had very little to give.  Thank you.

Freedom- Eyes Forward

The professional organizer came today.  I am so happy.  For those of you who know and love me, know that organization of a domestic space is not my strength.  This woman put me at ease and since I am a very willing participant, I think this will be one of the best things that I have ever done for myself.  I think once I start a new domestic space, I will call in help as well.  It may be one of those lifetime things that I might just need to do once a year.  I might need to have a professional come through and help me make it right.  This afternoon it's the baby clothes.  Dad died when my little one was eighteen months old, but had his first surgery when my little one was only five moths old.  I bagged them up and put them in the attic.  Today I will look at them again, and sort through them.  There are many things in this house like that.  Things that would have been best dealt with sooner, but just never were,  I move forward, not back, and I think I should forgive myself for not being perfect and allow myself peace even if I am not perfect.  That might just be a good deal and I think I should take it.