While we walk to school, or anywhere actually, Sasha often makes up songs as we go. She is really good at off the cuff rhymes and melodies. However, we never remember them.
"Sunshine Song" is one easy little ditty she wrote when she was about 4 years old that stuck, and we sing that often. I should post that one one day...but here are the lyrics:
Sunshine sunshine
Shine in the morning
Sunshine sunshine
Shine at lunch time
Sunshine sunshine
Shine in the afternoon
Sunshine sunshine
Now you set
The other day it was a particularly cloudy morning, so naturally the song she started making up was a cloudy day song.
This time there was one line in particular that totally embedded itself in my head. As I walked to work after dropping her off the tune repeated in my mind over and over. Then a follow up line came to mind. I shared the 2 line combo with her when I picked her up and we determined we had a nice chorus for a song!
We have many musical friends in our life and I thought it might be fun to invite them to help her finish a song. I asked her if she would like to try a collaborative music project with some fellow creative folks who can add a line and continue building on the tune she started. She thought that was a great idea!
So, here's what we've got so far with our "Song for a Cloudy Day":
Sasha's line that started it all is:
Yes, there are grey clouds over the city
and it's about to rain
My addition was:
but when you live in a rainforest
why bother to complain
We welcome all of you to add a line, create a verse, show us how to play this tune on the guitar (for me) or piano (for her), funk it up, rock it up...play with it however you feel inspired to and then share your contribution with us! :)
Then I'm going to compile all the bits we receive from folks to edit the final "Song for a Cloudy Day" video with Sasha for her to share. I will work with her through the editing process so she can learn from it, and also share her own amazing and imaginative ideas.
Sasha says she will share updates on what she learns on her blog, and if you want to play along with us on this collaborative musical adventure, here's the link:
welcometosashasworld.blogspot.ca
(July 25 - noticed that Mark has added a new verse on Sasha's blog. Now it's your turn!)
Jun 16, 2013
Jan 3, 2013
why smile :)
Later on that same day I had an interaction with a homeless person looking for spare change near the skytrain. I said hello as she passed me by, even though I didn't have any money to share that day. She turned and I looked at her and smiled, though I felt that pang of guilt to not be able to offer her something.
Her response was to grab my hands in gratitude. She thanked me for not only looking at her, but also for smiling at her. "I'm lucky if people acknowledge me. No one ever smiles at me anymore. Thank you! You have made my day!"
There have been many times when I have luckily smiled at the right person at just that moment they needed it. The power of a smile or small act of kindness is amazing. It is the only power I know I have that is easily shared. So I share it. I smile and acknowledge everyone I make eye contact with, because for me that is the gift of being human. We are all here together. And yes, every smile can make a difference for you and those you smile at.
Don't wait for people to smile at you first - create your own ripple that starts a wave of happy! All energy is contagious, so are you spreading grumpy vibes or positive ones?
My life is full of reasons to smile, something I am grateful for every day. Family, friends, community and a good home with good food to nourish us.
I'm also lucky to work at a community centre I love, so it's easy to smile when I'm there too. The best places to work have always been the places where the team of people around you are good at lifting each other up by lending a hand and supporting each other. No matter what the job, when approached with a positive attitude it will always be more enjoyable. Cheesy but true. ;)
When I was a server at the Keg I had an awesome co-worker who would sing the Smile Song when we got in the weeds which always helped me laugh and get over the stress. (and the song still brings back memories of her adorable smiling face!)
Happily, Sasha has become a fan of singing this song too! Enjoy, and be sure to spread a little happy with your own gorgeous smile today. :)
"A smile costs nothing but gives much. It enriches those who receive without making poorer those who give. It takes but a moment, but the memory of it sometimes lasts forever. None is so rich or mighty that he cannot get along without it and none is so poor that he cannot be made rich by it. Yet a smile cannot be bought, begged, borrowed, or stolen, for it is something that is of no value to anyone until it is given away. Some people are too tired to give you a smile. Give them one of yours, as none needs a smile so much as he who has no more to give." ~Anon
Dec 4, 2012
letting go of grief
Me and death go back a long way.
Death has played a big part in shaping my ability to face every day with a positive attitude and general tendency to look on the bright side of life. But I've noticed that death has also spread a grey cloud that's been niggling away at my thoughts for a while now. Bringing me down when I'm alone, and making it harder and harder to be that bundle of happy.
After much reflection I'm now aware that I've been grieving, and for longer than I realized. I've taken the time to process this and the act of writing and sharing these thoughts is part of the process that will help me breath and let it go.
The initial impact of this grief hit me when the tsunami wave hit Thailand and surrounding shores in 2004. We were visiting family in the states for the holidays and while we were there paid no attention to any news at all. A media blackout to relax and enjoy our stay.
One night in bed I just started bawling. Uncontrollable sobs wrenching me and my heart feeling crushed. I had no idea why. Poor Mark worried he or someone had done something to upset me, and perhaps I was not being truthful when I said "I don't know what's wrong, but I feel so sad. Like I'm drowning in grief." For hours that night I cried without knowing why my mind was full of images of countless people screaming out for loved ones they couldn't find.
When we returned home and saw a news story on the devastation that the tsunami had caused days before, Mark noted that the time the wave hit was when I began losing myself in tears. I was stunned. Like the collective grief of the victims of that wave had washed across the pacific and found me unawares in Washington state.
The feelings from that moment were so intense they linger today, and have become a piece of my ongoing grief for the turmoil people continue to face from war and environmental chaos on a regular basis around the world.
That night the wave of feeling was like collecting all of the grief I had experienced with death over my lifetime hitting me at once...multiplied exponentially.
My experience began with the smell of death when I was around 9 years old. There was a house that kids in my neighbourhood claimed was haunted. A small bungalow that was run down and very neglected looking, we would tip toe around this place now and then trying to see if we could find any sign of life inside...worried we might get caught by a witch!
But one day we noticed the house had a bad stench we didn't want to get near anymore. Not long after, we passed by to find an ambulance taking away a covered body and heard a grown up nearby filling in the neighbours on how the old woman who lived there had died, and how no one knew until she started decomposing and the mail carrier reported the smell.
The lesson that I learned from that experience was that I didn't ever want to become old and lonely. To die and have no one who missed me enough to realize I wasn't around anymore.
A few years later was the first death of someone I cared about when I was 12. She was 13 and we were hanging out at the park across from her house when she suddenly slumped and dropped to the ground. As soon as I realized she was unresponsive I ran to her house to alert her parents and call an ambulance.
Her death from a brain aneurysm taught me the lesson that life could end in a moment - for no apparent reason even. This was when I consciously chose to enjoy every day and make the best of it no matter what. Maintain an attitude of gratitude for every experience I live through.
By the time I chose to move to Vancouver in '97 at the age of 24, I had mourned the loss of more than 30 people who died from accidents, suicides, murders, illnesses and disease like aids and cancer in only a dozen years. After my arrival on the west coast there was a lucky seven years when no one I knew passed away...but then one of my inspiring mentors lost her struggle with cancer when it came back a third time, and soon after another inspiring mentor died from a heart attack. Then the wave. Death was back. A slow trickle over the years.
I thought I had stopped counting once more than 40 people had passed away, but early in September there was a day when I received news of two amazing people dying on the same day (along with a series of other bad news tales, too much bad news for one day). One from a random accident and one who lost their fight with cancer. I suddenly knew I was one death away from losing 50 friends in my lifetime, and I've been raw with emotion and on the verge of tears non-stop ever since.
Last week I said goodbye to the soul of a generous and kind man who was that 50th person I've been lucky enough to know before their passing, and I was laughing and chatting with him less than an hour from the time of his stroke. "see you next week"
I wonder how it is possible to have mourned the loss of 50 people. Old and young, from all walks of life, before I have even hit 40. Family, close friends, mentors, and my first true love.
Whenever I start to relax and forget about death, it comes back to take another life. Living in a peaceful corner of the world, I hate that I have still come to fear the next day I will receive news of someone dying. The downside to life as a social butterfly who loves meeting new people and who builds strong connections with others so easily.
The many memorials/funerals/wakes I've attended have taught me that death is a fact of life...but it's one that sucks. Sucks air from your lungs and makes breathing difficult when it's someone close to your heart. Wreaks havoc on emotions and mental health while grief has you in its clutches. The passing of even a casual acquaintance can shatter your world for a while when you have become so dependent on there presence in some way. That smile, now only a memory.
The somberness of a funeral is darkest when the loss of life seems meaningless. Random accidents that rob a life too quickly are dark, but not as dark as suicides where every person there wonders if they could have done something/said something differently to make that person choose life. Celebrations of long lives well lived are full of joyful tears to accompany the sorrow. Those who pass from disease usually have the benefit of time to say farewells before they go. Bittersweet because their death means an end to suffering they endured before passing.
Painful and tragic - every death - to those who miss them.
But if you are fortunate enough to have a network of caring around you, the days will slowly get easier. Grey cloud of grief in my head has not been able to cover the daily light I have from shiny happy people around me. That is why it took me so long to realize it was intense grief I was battling inside.
Another part of my grief comes from confronting the reality that I'm now at the age where my close friends are worrying about/suffering heart attacks and other illnesses. One of my best friends, an incredible force of positive energy to all who know him, had a heart attack last year which snapped me out of denial and into my own mid-life reality.
Cancer still consumes more and more people I know (themselves or their loved ones) and many of the elders in my life have reached that age which statistics prepare us for as the end of the average life span.
With all this in mind, my gratitude for every day I can get with friends and family is hard to express.
The biggest grief is my worry over things I can't control for the life of my daughter. Every year she makes it to another birthday celebration I feel blessed that she made it past the lifespan of another child I've known that died too young. This dread will follow me her whole life, but I will have to keep letting her go every day to live her life anyways. The most concise quote I have ever found to descibe the emotions of parenthood:
"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." ~Elizabeth Stone.
My memory of my young friends death went through a perceptual shift once Sasha was born. Standing with her dad while he was on the phone with the ambulance, for the first time I went from simply watching her mom through the window, holding Tammy in her arms. To my ears inside the home, her howls were silent. Now, my heart shatters at what that moment was like for her, and I can hear those screams to the heavens. Worse is when I think of myself ever in that position.
I have an abundance of gratitude for every day that Sasha (and every child and youth in our family tribe) continues to grow, flourish and stumble through life. When words fail me all I can do is get in as many hugs as I can.
I know I will continue to have reason to grieve in the future, but the cloud that has been casting shadows in the back of my mind does not feel like it is suffocating me anymore. The past couple of years of writers block have been due to this wall of grief I couldn't get around/through/over/under. Turns out it wasn't just a wall, it was a mountain disguised as a series of bumps in the road. The summit has been passed and now I'm ready to roll with what lies on the other side.
A determined daily practise of reflecting on the countless things I'm full of gratitude for is my key. I love my family, friends, community, where I work - everything. This is what has always kept me afloat. Its hard to really be sad when you have so much in your life that genuinely makes you happy. The good news I have never lost sight of that. And now that I have acknowledged the grief that was building within me, I can focus on writing about the positive stuff again.
One day at a time...grateful as always to all of you who share your smiles, hugs and presence with me and help make my life totally worth living. :)
Death has played a big part in shaping my ability to face every day with a positive attitude and general tendency to look on the bright side of life. But I've noticed that death has also spread a grey cloud that's been niggling away at my thoughts for a while now. Bringing me down when I'm alone, and making it harder and harder to be that bundle of happy.
After much reflection I'm now aware that I've been grieving, and for longer than I realized. I've taken the time to process this and the act of writing and sharing these thoughts is part of the process that will help me breath and let it go.
The initial impact of this grief hit me when the tsunami wave hit Thailand and surrounding shores in 2004. We were visiting family in the states for the holidays and while we were there paid no attention to any news at all. A media blackout to relax and enjoy our stay.
One night in bed I just started bawling. Uncontrollable sobs wrenching me and my heart feeling crushed. I had no idea why. Poor Mark worried he or someone had done something to upset me, and perhaps I was not being truthful when I said "I don't know what's wrong, but I feel so sad. Like I'm drowning in grief." For hours that night I cried without knowing why my mind was full of images of countless people screaming out for loved ones they couldn't find.
When we returned home and saw a news story on the devastation that the tsunami had caused days before, Mark noted that the time the wave hit was when I began losing myself in tears. I was stunned. Like the collective grief of the victims of that wave had washed across the pacific and found me unawares in Washington state.
The feelings from that moment were so intense they linger today, and have become a piece of my ongoing grief for the turmoil people continue to face from war and environmental chaos on a regular basis around the world.
That night the wave of feeling was like collecting all of the grief I had experienced with death over my lifetime hitting me at once...multiplied exponentially.
My experience began with the smell of death when I was around 9 years old. There was a house that kids in my neighbourhood claimed was haunted. A small bungalow that was run down and very neglected looking, we would tip toe around this place now and then trying to see if we could find any sign of life inside...worried we might get caught by a witch!
But one day we noticed the house had a bad stench we didn't want to get near anymore. Not long after, we passed by to find an ambulance taking away a covered body and heard a grown up nearby filling in the neighbours on how the old woman who lived there had died, and how no one knew until she started decomposing and the mail carrier reported the smell.
The lesson that I learned from that experience was that I didn't ever want to become old and lonely. To die and have no one who missed me enough to realize I wasn't around anymore.
A few years later was the first death of someone I cared about when I was 12. She was 13 and we were hanging out at the park across from her house when she suddenly slumped and dropped to the ground. As soon as I realized she was unresponsive I ran to her house to alert her parents and call an ambulance.
Her death from a brain aneurysm taught me the lesson that life could end in a moment - for no apparent reason even. This was when I consciously chose to enjoy every day and make the best of it no matter what. Maintain an attitude of gratitude for every experience I live through.
By the time I chose to move to Vancouver in '97 at the age of 24, I had mourned the loss of more than 30 people who died from accidents, suicides, murders, illnesses and disease like aids and cancer in only a dozen years. After my arrival on the west coast there was a lucky seven years when no one I knew passed away...but then one of my inspiring mentors lost her struggle with cancer when it came back a third time, and soon after another inspiring mentor died from a heart attack. Then the wave. Death was back. A slow trickle over the years.
I thought I had stopped counting once more than 40 people had passed away, but early in September there was a day when I received news of two amazing people dying on the same day (along with a series of other bad news tales, too much bad news for one day). One from a random accident and one who lost their fight with cancer. I suddenly knew I was one death away from losing 50 friends in my lifetime, and I've been raw with emotion and on the verge of tears non-stop ever since.
Last week I said goodbye to the soul of a generous and kind man who was that 50th person I've been lucky enough to know before their passing, and I was laughing and chatting with him less than an hour from the time of his stroke. "see you next week"
I wonder how it is possible to have mourned the loss of 50 people. Old and young, from all walks of life, before I have even hit 40. Family, close friends, mentors, and my first true love.
Whenever I start to relax and forget about death, it comes back to take another life. Living in a peaceful corner of the world, I hate that I have still come to fear the next day I will receive news of someone dying. The downside to life as a social butterfly who loves meeting new people and who builds strong connections with others so easily.
The many memorials/funerals/wakes I've attended have taught me that death is a fact of life...but it's one that sucks. Sucks air from your lungs and makes breathing difficult when it's someone close to your heart. Wreaks havoc on emotions and mental health while grief has you in its clutches. The passing of even a casual acquaintance can shatter your world for a while when you have become so dependent on there presence in some way. That smile, now only a memory.
The somberness of a funeral is darkest when the loss of life seems meaningless. Random accidents that rob a life too quickly are dark, but not as dark as suicides where every person there wonders if they could have done something/said something differently to make that person choose life. Celebrations of long lives well lived are full of joyful tears to accompany the sorrow. Those who pass from disease usually have the benefit of time to say farewells before they go. Bittersweet because their death means an end to suffering they endured before passing.
Painful and tragic - every death - to those who miss them.
But if you are fortunate enough to have a network of caring around you, the days will slowly get easier. Grey cloud of grief in my head has not been able to cover the daily light I have from shiny happy people around me. That is why it took me so long to realize it was intense grief I was battling inside.
Another part of my grief comes from confronting the reality that I'm now at the age where my close friends are worrying about/suffering heart attacks and other illnesses. One of my best friends, an incredible force of positive energy to all who know him, had a heart attack last year which snapped me out of denial and into my own mid-life reality.
Cancer still consumes more and more people I know (themselves or their loved ones) and many of the elders in my life have reached that age which statistics prepare us for as the end of the average life span.
With all this in mind, my gratitude for every day I can get with friends and family is hard to express.
The biggest grief is my worry over things I can't control for the life of my daughter. Every year she makes it to another birthday celebration I feel blessed that she made it past the lifespan of another child I've known that died too young. This dread will follow me her whole life, but I will have to keep letting her go every day to live her life anyways. The most concise quote I have ever found to descibe the emotions of parenthood:
"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." ~Elizabeth Stone.
My memory of my young friends death went through a perceptual shift once Sasha was born. Standing with her dad while he was on the phone with the ambulance, for the first time I went from simply watching her mom through the window, holding Tammy in her arms. To my ears inside the home, her howls were silent. Now, my heart shatters at what that moment was like for her, and I can hear those screams to the heavens. Worse is when I think of myself ever in that position.
I have an abundance of gratitude for every day that Sasha (and every child and youth in our family tribe) continues to grow, flourish and stumble through life. When words fail me all I can do is get in as many hugs as I can.
I know I will continue to have reason to grieve in the future, but the cloud that has been casting shadows in the back of my mind does not feel like it is suffocating me anymore. The past couple of years of writers block have been due to this wall of grief I couldn't get around/through/over/under. Turns out it wasn't just a wall, it was a mountain disguised as a series of bumps in the road. The summit has been passed and now I'm ready to roll with what lies on the other side.
A determined daily practise of reflecting on the countless things I'm full of gratitude for is my key. I love my family, friends, community, where I work - everything. This is what has always kept me afloat. Its hard to really be sad when you have so much in your life that genuinely makes you happy. The good news I have never lost sight of that. And now that I have acknowledged the grief that was building within me, I can focus on writing about the positive stuff again.
One day at a time...grateful as always to all of you who share your smiles, hugs and presence with me and help make my life totally worth living. :)
May 27, 2012
A Super Sasha Story
A fun collaborative creation on a lazy Sunday morning.
Sasha says "let's make a book together!" She tells the tale. I write it out for her. She draws the pictures. She narrates while I film. I edit and post for your viewing pleasure.
Hope you enjoy "Super Sasha and the Power to Help" : )
Sasha says "let's make a book together!" She tells the tale. I write it out for her. She draws the pictures. She narrates while I film. I edit and post for your viewing pleasure.
Hope you enjoy "Super Sasha and the Power to Help" : )
May 23, 2012
zombie talk
Over the long weekend we were lucky to have Keyan staying with us (while his parents enjoyed a weekend get-a-way they won in the folk fest raffle - remember you can't win if you don't play, hehe) and I particularly enjoyed a nice lazy Monday morning hanging out with him and Sasha.
While a birthday card is made (and I play with the camera), Sasha and Keyan talk about flowers, fairies, zombies, werewolves and ghosts. Then I had a little fun playing with the footage. The result: this cute moment in time you may enjoy : )
While a birthday card is made (and I play with the camera), Sasha and Keyan talk about flowers, fairies, zombies, werewolves and ghosts. Then I had a little fun playing with the footage. The result: this cute moment in time you may enjoy : )
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