Surrender and Hope

Prayer flags - I thought. An endless field of whites - strung together and suspended on nothing other than the thinnest of thin threads.

A secret message - I imagined..I wanted to believe.

Perhaps they are a call to world peace..to compassion..to wisdom and strength. Or perhaps - for those who happen by and see them - they are a wish. For long  life...for good fortune..for health..and abundant wealth.

Or - perhaps it isn't quite as complicated as all that. Perhaps - someone thought to hang these like this to fend off the long winter that will soon be upon us. Perhaps they're meant to keep us warm and safe and dry.

The ground..the trees..the sky. Nothing but faded browns and greys. The whites - came as a welcome interruption..somewhat of a  surprise.

And - I really don't know why I stopped to photograph them. I don't know what it was that captivated my thoughts and imagination. But that - there - in the middle of it all...they somehow appeared to me to be a story of surrender and one of hope.

Maybe not prayer flags..but something else?

The Quiet

After a house full..today it is extraordinarily quiet. It's been almost a week of constant activity. Of grown children coming and going. Of extended family. Of food. Of fun. Of a never-ending pile-up of dirty dishes and a bottomless basket of laundry. Of chaos. Of life - full and busy.

It's been thirty years - it occurred to me - that I've been practicing this Thanksgiving ritual. The turkey..the stuffing..the potatoes. The orange vegetables..and the greens. The mashed and the roasted. The traditional pies that are always the most-looked-forward to part of the meal. The giving thanks for all that we have - in our lives..on our plates..in our hearts.

It was - at first - alien to me. I look like everyone else. I sound like them. But - I was truly a foreigner in this strange land. Sure - there was a Canadian version of this Thanksgiving..but it was nothing like what is celebrated here. In my growing-up years - it was nothing other than a long weekend in early October. A school vacation. No more than that.

Yes - it's true. I am and forever will be Canadian-at-heart. But somehow - over the years - this particular holiday has grown on me. I love that it's a one that crosses all religious..racial and socio-economic borders..that it is celebrated by each and every one. I love its universality. I've learned to embrace its true intention - of gratitude..of sharing..of family gathering around a table and all together breaking bread.

The silence - today  - comes in the flavor of bittersweet. Yes - it's a relief to have things return to a sense of order and 'normal'. And yet - it's another year come and gone. Another season. Who knows what the next will be. Parents are aging. Kids are - each and every one - growing more and more into adult independant lives of their own. It will - someday - be theirs to take on. This holiday.

I find myself wondering whether I've provided enough tradition and ground for them to carry on? And - more important - will they pass it along? From their generation to the one that follows? Will they sit around  a table - someday - and reminisce about their childhood Thanksgivings..and what we ate..and how we argued..and  - most important that we loved?

Altho I may always deny it - I sometimes find myself just as 'American' as one who was born and raised here. It's true that I grew up north of this border. And - it's true that I was once a stranger in this land of the brave and the free . But - after thirty years of practicing this holiday and tradition..I have to say how grateful I truly am. For a country that has given me a home and a family..provided food on my table and a roof over my head.

As for today...and with my sweet pup lying quietly at my feet - I'm thankful for the quiet...the peace..the calm...the knowing that - yes - it's another year behind me.

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Cross-posted over  at Vision and Verb -   where a collaborative group of like-minded women from all over the world share their passion for photography and the written word.

Three Sages

I'd been walking round and round. I'd lost my compass and internal sense of direction. I couldn't find my ground.  I didn't know where it was I was going..or if I'd ever again be found.

So it was -  I thought to stop. Be still. Right here...and right now. The answers to the questions I'm seeking - are sure to be around.

And it was right then...and right there that  they were. Out of the quiet..out of the darkness..out of nowhere -  three white sages appeared.

Follow me -  the first one said. I'll lead you down the road to riches and a bounty of glittering gold.

But - if you follow me - the next one offered....I'll teach you all there is to know. I'll lead you to knowledge...to a higher academic degree. To prestige and glory and fame.

I shook my head. I wasn't sure. I didn't know.

And then - there was one more. A quieter one...a one who waited in the deepening shadows. He - held out his hand and asked  - too - that I follow. Beckoning...

But - where to?

He said he couldn't make any promises...that he wasn't sure where it was that I was going. Those questions - he said - could only be answered by me and myself alone.

But - he's sure that if I held his hand..if I believed and trusted in he and the process - he'd lead me right back home.

To where my heart lives. To where I'll know.