Quietly Quitting

So I hear that 'Quietly Quitting' is getting a lot of air time at the moment. In response let me introduce you to Jennifer, my Mum, who just turned 80.

She has also led a quiet life:

Quietly enduring a war time infancy.
Quietly raising four kids with minimal resources, but a wealth of love and support.
Quietly climbing the seniority ladder in a busy commercial office.
Quietly providing her children with every opportunity for success.
Quietly supporting her husband in every way.
Quietly showing the world the true meaning of loyalty, commitment and hard work.

So if you are considering quietly quitting, be like Jennifer instead - full of grace, beauty, loyalty and commitment, quietly letting her actions speak for her.

#belikejennifer

Tethered Free

 

Steadfast in purpose,

Anticipatory for future freedom,

Yet shackled by todays loving bonds.

Ready to escape the control of past tomorrows,

Hopeful for the dawn of new beginnings,

But tethered by the responsibilities of the present.

How strong the soul

Whose sacrifices are hidden

Beneath the chaos of noise?

Drawing strength from self,

Succor from unspoken bonds,

And God given challenges and blessings.

How great the dream,

How great the achievement,

Borne of necessity and hope?

Let these words speak,

Let these words declare,

Pride, awe and commitment. 

For when the smoke clears,

And clarity defines your mind,

Know love conquered all.

The Art of Surfacing.....

 

I read a story the other day

Of a man that sunk beneath the sea.

It took me a while to recognize

That the sinking man was me.

Crushed by an enormous cloud,

On the edge of insanity,

Bereft of that beautiful connection,

A prisoner of your negativity.

 

Oh, I had fallen so far so fast,

Lost touch with all I held close,

Banished from my inner core,

By far the bitterest dose.

A pill so toxic and devoid of hope,

It crushed my soul from within.

Collapsed my ability to see the light,

That still burned bright many miles in.

 

So many years I drifted through

This desolate waste of unfulfilled

Fearful of what was, and what might be,

So deep was your acidity drilled.

To be clear, and don't get me wrong,

This is not a personal deflection

From the blame and my own complicity;

I was a conspirator in my own destruction.

 

I'm not sure where I found the strength

To start the battle for my soul;

To break free from the shackles so willingly donned,

To cross that bridge of trolls.

But find it I did, the first few steps

A path of faltering pace,

Steadfast yet rocky in their stride,

Focused on a better place.

 

And as I began to make that climb

My soul began to sing,

Joy abounding, confidence soaring;

The fine art of surfacing.

I had to rationalize how far I'd sunk,

To embrace my inner being,

To deprogram years of hurt and loathing,

To love what others were seeing.

 

It's been a journey, it's been a ride,

And the wheels are not done turning,

But where gloom and hurt once infiltrated,

Now lives hope and yearning.

Gone your yoke of indifference,

Your words so full of derision;

Replaced with belief and future thinking,

No room for indecision.

 

Positivity will always win;

A true heart will always find a door.

A darkened soul may win a battle,

But it will never win the war.

You tried to bury me

And take away my soul.

But you lost, game over,

I refused to pay the toll.

Yearning to Live, Wanting to Fly

 

Caught between two worlds,

The world that is; the world to come.

Trying to navigate a matrix of what could be,

And what life can only be.....for now.

Hands linked; minds connected

As one, and so deeply won.

Yet still silent barriers,

That surround despite the freedoms.

Separation, segregation, desperation.

Melded and intertwined with

Exultation, exhilaration and complete

Satisfaction, for what the future holds.

Lessons learned and understanding,

Yet still so many classes to attend.

Wayward words, unintended indifference,

Pain delivered. Pain felt. Grey clouds.

Burdens piled layer on layer

Crowd out the sun from sight.

But these are only momentary

And will soon disperse like the morning mist.

Leaving behind a path

Of forgotten woes and empty friendships.

Promises that were not delivered,

Support that was so easily removed.

But life and love is not built

On such fragile a foundation

As insincerity,

But rather on the promise of whole,

The solidity of truth

And a scaffold of love and completion.

So while we yearn to live,

Know that our dreams will soon take flight,

And soar above the tumult below

In peaceful and tranquil harmony.

An Ode for Our Times

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the land,

There were Karens in high places and living so grand!
They'd tell us to do this, but then do that,
And follow the rules we would just like twats.

Fear was important, in fact their main tool,

Because when fools are so fearful they are easier to rule.

See they'll do stupid things when they fear for their life,

Like wear masks in private, or vax check your wife!

All in the name of flattening the curve,

When in reality the reason was way more absurd.

Now don't get me wrong, there's a virus and it can kill,

But most will be older, or sicker; what we call vuln-rer-bull,

And to take steps to avoid is quite reasonable;

Until you realize that the mandates they issue with such derision,

Make no sense when you understand viral transmission.

A virus is gonna virus and doesn't give a fuck,

If you're working in a school or driving a truck.

It certainly doesn't care if you're wearing a mask,

And even less when by a Karen you are taken to task!

Wash your hands, cover your mouth, stay back a few feet,

But outdoor masking? Familial separation? What next will they tweet!

And I haven't even yet ventured onto the jab,

But let's, let's do it, on vaccine mandates we'll blab.

The vaccines though not true vax can certainly help mitigate,

But to cure , prevent infection when'er they mutate?

Not a cat's chance in hell, that's not the design,

And yet many believe and hence toe the line.

They cheer when our leaders issue a rallying call,

To find the unvaccinated and damn them to hell!

They shout so loud and demand your abiding,

Makes you wonder the extent of the facts they are hiding!

Let's keep under wraps all things that are not righteous,

Like blood clots, and seizures and myocarditis.

The public don't need this info you see,

Because informed choice is dangerous when you rule by decree.

For though they say their goal is the end of pandemic,

They do all they can to stoke fear and panic,

To prevent us from knowing the true thrust of their troll,

And to keep us all under a state of control.

And although they may deride the antics of Xi,

They truly admire and want them too you see.

That way they control what you see, hear and utter,

And never let you rise from out of the gutter.

They'll keep you locked down and under their thumb,

Until you start thinking, connecting....stop acting dumb!

The truth is out there and it's not based on only their choice.

Cast off binary thoughts and in your freedom rejoice!

We were put here on Earth to be governed by reason,

Not manipulated by those who would accuse us of treason

When we dare to question their political leaning

That is not built on science and sensible learning.

So fuck off Fauci, Biden and Boris!

Fuck away Trudeau and Pelosi, you bore us!

We will never submit to your mandates and guardrails,

Because freedom is bigger and will always prevail!

Shaving a Dying Man

The journey so far

The journey to come

These are the thoughts that rise

When shaving a dying man.

Blood of my blood

Chosen blood

These are the thoughts that rise

When shaving a dying man.

Light, salt and staff

Welcoming hearts

These are the thoughts that rise

When shaving a dying man.

Complication and frustration

Complex and despair

These are the thoughts that rise

When shaving a dying man.

Good heart. Open hands.

A tool for the Almighty.

These are the thoughts that rise

When shaving a dying man.

Regret? Redemption?

Reversing the tide?

These are the thoughts that rise

When shaving a dying man.

A waning frame

Yet still soul bright

These are the thoughts that rise

When shaving a dying man.

Shiny side up

Sticky side down

These are the thoughts that rise

When shaving a dying man.

Old man, young fella

A shoulder of tears

These are the thoughts that rise

When shaving a dying man.

Ashes to ashes, dust to follow

A braying lament rings out

These are the sounds that rise

When you bury a loving man.

The ABCs of CBAs - Part 2

 A few years ago I wrote a blog post about how my youngest son Logan and his battles with dyslexia, had driven me to challenge all of my thoughts about teaching and learning, and how this new perspective had influenced ny professional life for the better. This post, however, is all about achievement and drive....Logan's achievement and drive. Its a story of persistence and strength. It's a story about never giving up. Its a story of success that has burned an indelible smile into my heart. It's a story that makes me feel 1000 feet tall.

Logan wasn't diagnosed with dyslexia until the end of Grade 8. Prior to that he had been saddled, like many kids with learning challenges are, with being classified as being a slow learner, disruptive, and disinterested. In reality, Logan was screaming silently for somebody to understand. Somebody to help him navigate through a world made up of signs he could not read. I can only imagine the frustration he was feeling.....the exhaustion.....the confusion. Thankfully the help he so desperately needed started to flow in Grade 8, but unfortunately not fast enough to affect how he transitioned into High School.

When Logan entered High School he was placed in the 'Locally Developed' stream, the politically correct way of categorizing children with learning difficulties. As his parents, we were guided by the Educators as to what woudl be best for Logan.....and this is what they felt was best. Something always nagged me about that decision.....maybe because deep down I knew he was a smart kid, maybe because of my own preconcpetions about what the locally developed stream meant, and also maybe an unhealthy does of my own pride. Whatever it was, it didn't rest easy. You deal with the hand your dealt though, at least initially, and Logan started his time at High School.

One month in, all Grade 9s were asked to write a letter to themselves in Grade 12.....a letter that they woudl open after graduation. They were asked to record their favourite this, their favourite that, their hopes, their dreams, and even what they most enjoyed about High School. Those letters were collected, sealed and stowed away for revisiting at the end of their school life. Pretty cool idea really. I am sure that most students forgot those letters even existed until they arrived in their mailboxes this past week.

Logan's first semester in Grade 9 passed in a blink, even if he might disagree with that statement. With the start of Semester 2 came English and Math.....and that's when things started to change. On reviewing his math syllabus and comparing it with what he had learned in previous years (K-8), it was very clear that Logan had been placed in the wrong stream. A week later Logan's English teacher also came to the same conclusion. He was moved up to Applied in all classes. By the end of Grade 9 he was averaging 70% in both classes.

Over the next three years, Logan worked hard. The best way I can describe the dyslexia that Logan battles is to get you to imagine what it must feel like to sit down to do a math test or a geography test and find that the exam is written in Russian.....and that in order to complete the test you first have to learn Russian. They give kids with dyslexia more time, which is great, but the struggle is exhausting and if you don't have the strength to go on then no amount of time will matter. What I have learned though, is that kids with learning challenges such as dyslexia fight hard. They fight and fight and fight until they drop. Their resolve is amazing. If we awarded grades on the basis of effort and dedication, these kids would be Straight A students.

Grade 12. Graduation year. Something flipped the switch again in Grade 12.....something encouraged Logan to put his pedal even more to the metal! I like to think it was the impending transition into adult life.....in reality I think a girl played a role. LOL Whatever it was, it was translating into greater dedication and higher grades. Come Graduation time, Logan's average was north of 80% and this kid who had started High School in Locally Developed was finishing it on the Honour Role and as an Onatrio Scholar! Throw in two awards and this kid was blowing the roof off. We celebrated all of his acocmplishments, even if he didn't overtly acknowledge the significance of his achievements. That's teenagers for you. ;) 

Then came the Grade 9 letter.

There was a lot in the letter that perfectly summed up Logan at the start of Grade 9:

Favourite Hobby: Sleeping

What do you want to do after School: Anything

Favourite memory of High School: Only just got here.

All typical Logan.

Two others, however, just stopped me in my tracks.

On my graduation day I hope: I make Honour Role; and

I will be proud of the following accomplishments: of getting good grades.

Back in early Grade school we had tried to inspire Logan to discover his amazingness.....to recognize that he could achieve great things in his life if he worked hard, regardless of the challenges he faced. To see that message prevail, despite finding himself in the most challenging of situations, was and is a testament to the amazing man our son of 18 has now become. He never gave up on himself!

His dedication and ambition drove him to crush the barriers that blocked his path, and allowed the world to finally see what his family and friends have always seen.....a young man who has the world at his feet.

This is a story of success. This is Logan's story. This is a story of his amazingness!