“Silence is a source of great strength.” Lao Tzu
This month, I am following my dear friends, The World According to Dina, Leaping Tracks and Silkannthreades into silence. For most of us, this is entering unfamiliar territory. We have become accustomed to sound, whether it be the soothing lilt of music, the white noise of traffic, urgent text message notifications, or the inevitable clamour of an alarm clock. At the same time, our affinity with silence has lessened to the point that we are uneasy in what seems to be a “void.” Consider how we rush to fill a conversation when there is a lapse into silence.
Silence is a complete absence of sound, something which very few of us will ever experience. City dwellers will always have the company of noise. Nature offers the echoes of ocean waves crashing along a shoreline, wind rattling the trees, rain pelting the ground, voices of animals and the songs of birds. And the universe – even interstellar space is filled with noise.
I am discovering that silence can be reached when we allow the noise to drift away, when we relinquish the message conveyed by the incoming signal. In so doing, we open ourselves to new possibilities and outcomes.
In the end, silence is a personal journey, an inner conversation, an open invitation to explore and celebrate.
“I’ve begun to realize that you can listen to silence and learn from it. It has a quality and a dimension all its own.” Chaim Potok
Finding Silence within a City Garden from Rebecca Budd aka Clanmother on Vimeo.
“Nothing is ever really lost to us as long a we remember it.” L.M. Montgomery, The Story Girl
Photography has changed the way we visualize our lives in retrospective.
A photo holds the story behind the sunrise, the emotions of a wedding day, the hope for a sleeping newborn resting against a mother’s shoulder.
Photography stops time so that we can return again and again to the moment.
This photo, taken many years ago, brings back the ocean breeze that tossed my hair, the bright sunshine that penetrated my sunglasses, the white sand that invaded my sandals, and the delightful companionship of the photographer, who continues to share my life’s journey for over forty years.
May we continue to leave our footprints in the “pixel sands” of time.
Happy World Photography Day!
Kâkesimokamik in Cree means “healing garden”. There is a rich symbolism of nature held safe within the garden. This is a spiritual place that brings together the earth, sky, water and air.
August 9, 2018 celebrates the International Day of the World’s Indigenous Peoples, which came into being by the General Assembly of the United Nations resolution 49/214 of 23 December 1994. This marked the beginning of the first International Decade of the World’s Indigenous People proclaimed for the decade, 1995 to 2004. A Second International Decade occurred from 2005 – 2015, with the theme of “A Decade for Action and Dignity.”
This year, I celebrated International Day of the World’s Indigenous Peoples by visiting “The Healing Garden” in St Albert, Alberta.
The Healing Garden was officially opened on Friday, September 15, 2017. It is a place of peace and comfort, a testament to St. Albert’s commitment to healing and reconciliation.
Situated along the scenic Red Willow Trail across from St. Albert Place, The Healing Garden is “to be a place of truth and reconciliation, a visible sign of our community’s commitment to walk in right relations with First Nation, Métis and Inuit peoples, and with all Nations.”
May we continue to celebrate inclusivity and diversity, experiencing the profound healing power of reconciliation in our lives and within our communities.
The year 1887.
They found a human leg trapped in a boot. As the story is remembered, the leg washed up on the shore of False Creek. No one claimed it, even though it was prominently displayed in the local police station for all to view. No one showed up or even appeared to be interested in the unusual display. It remains an unsolved mystery.
The police station is no more. Yet, the narrative remains alive, over 100 years later,in the name, Leg-in-Boot Square. And now there is great interest in the current display – Acoustic Anvil: A Small Weight To Forge The Sea.
Leg-in-Boot Square, once a thriving part of False Creek’s industrialization, has taken on a more serene, even sedate, orientation. The chaotic mishmash of forges, boat-builders and stevedores, has been replaced by walkers, runners and bikes that share the Vancouver Seawall. It is a place of respite with benches offering a view of Vancouver’s ever growing skyline and the sailboats berthed at the nearby marina.
Art remembers and gives voice to our histories and legends. This month, the “Acoustic Anvil: A Small Weight to Forge the Sea” gives a hearty nod to Vancouver 1887. Maskull Lasserre has created a massive sculpture, with measurements of approximately three-by-eight-metres, to celebrate False Creek’s industrial era.
The Acoustic Anvil arrived on Thursday, July 19th at 10:30. Dramatic, vibrant, solid – those were the words that came to me when I reached out my hand for the first touch. Then I heard the music.
“What is the sound? Where is it coming from? Where does it transport you.”
There is a time to move on. That is what my grandmother told me many years ago. It is how we move on that makes life interesting, productive, meaningful.
We cannot change time, or the season. What we can do is embrace the present, to honour the moments that are given and affirm the poignancy of our inability to hold time in abeyance.
Cities are no different. They are ever-changing, a reflection of our evolving societies. As the Scottish scientist, Patrick Geddes, noted, “But a city is more than a place in space, it is a drama in time.” And time moves on, with new dramas appearing and receding into archival memory.
La Taqueria restaurant, situated on Cambie and Broadway, close to City Hall is on the move. The building is scheduled for demolition, making way for a new construction that promises more space and amenities. For patrons of La Taqueria, the move is only a block away. Within the messages of gratitude written on the walls, there is a recognition of moving on, for acknowledging that what was once, is no more. There is also a sense of excitement, anticipation, a commitment to accept what comes next.
“To every thing here is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.” Ecclesiastes 3:1