My dear blogging family and friends,
It’s been too long…welcome back.
I’ve neglected writing on my blog for absolutely eons. There are many reasons why. First, I’ve been super busy raising our last four/three children. I’m wanting to be present for every moment since I know all too well how fast children grow up and leave the nest. But another reason under all that everyday busyness has been my lack of faith and hope. I’ve not had to heart to write and certainly didn’t want to share anything unless it was uplifting or could inspire.
The world is becoming increasingly chaotic and hate filled and it’s not just out there; it’s seeped into my little community. Since Covid hit five years ago I think some people have lost their sense of humanity as increasingly there is this mentality of us, verus them. Instead of a “we are all in this together,” thought process, there is this devisive rhetoric creating societal havoc.
People seem to be more aggressive and angry. All I have to do is head out onto the road and everyone seems to be competing for their space and want to be the first through any traffic stop. What I dislike most is seeing hate speech on people’s vehicles. Therefore I have struggled with ways to encourage myself, let alone summon up some words of hope to send out into the ether.
But as this week closes I caught a glimpse of something I wanted finally to share, but first a story, if you can bare it. Grab a cup of tea/coffee and join me for a visit.
This has been a tough week for me. Memories from the past are clashing with the current moments we are all experiencing in September 2025.
To illustrate I must take you back in time….almost a quarter of a century ago now.
I remember September 11, 2001 like it was yesterday. The kids went off to school still excited about their new teachers and classmates. I took our youngest little guy Harrison to preschool and then returned home in good spirits as it was a beautiful blue sky day with only a touch of crispness in the air. I returned home a bit after 9 a.m. poured myself a cup of tea and dumped a load of laundry on the family room floor preparing to start my daily housework.
Before I had folded one thing though I turned on the T.V. On the screen, and on every channel unbelievable terror was being filmed live in New York. I watched in horror the aftermath of the first Twin Tower being hit and then still trying to understand what was happening right in front of me I watched another plane crash into the second tower. Black smoke filled the blue sky.
I couldn’t assimilate what I was seeing and the reporters on the ground were as stunned and shocked as I. The world stood still and would forever be changed.
The days and weeks following didn’t bring any light to that event. What could cause people to enact such a horrendous, murderous act on so many innocent people? I remember walking around feeling like a dark cloud had covered the earth. Then two weeks later I discovered I was pregnant. I was thrilled of course but the joy I felt was dulled with the knowledge that our world was no longer a safe place. We were living in the days following what would be called the 911 terrorist attack.
How could I bring a new baby into this world?
Throughout that fall the cloud I felt didn’t lift although deep down there was a tiny piece of joy as I thought about the new life growing in my womb. Just as I was about to share the happy news with our family and friends I went in for a routine ultrasound only to find out our baby’s heart beat had stopped. In that darkened ultrasound room I dropped into a black abyss of pain and grief. The only thing that kept me tied to totally losing it was the fact I had four other children to care for everyday. (I know blessed right….and yet a part of me had died) Yet these children needed me. They needed a mother to feed them, to get them to school, to take them to their activities, to bath them, dress them, read to them, in general keep all the balls in the air. Looking back I think someone else must have been going through the motions.
During that late fall, (I had to be admitted to hospital for an induced miscarrage on Nov 29th) throughout the Christmas season and winter I was in a state of deep depression.
Then in February my sister C asked if I wanted to join her and her yoga students for a retreat at a nearby Buddhist Monastery. This was the first time I felt any light. Even though I seldom left our children, I told her yes because I knew she was throwing me a life line. In the weeks leading up to our long weekend getaway in April, I started to meditate. Every day I would sit longer and longer. I would focus on my breath while guiding white light to surround and embrace me. I started walking and a few times I hiked the moutain behind our house where I sat overlooking the lake below me. A sense of deep gratitude for all I had been given started to break the darkness. I could feel as Leonard Cohen once sang;
“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.“
I started practicing some yoga too. I knew I needed to keep up with my sister’s yoga group so as I got stronger and more supple, I started feeling my body connect with my spirit. I was coming back to the world. A crack had opened.
My husband was great about my short trip away. He knew a part of me was vacant and I needed this trip away. The day to leave finally arrived. As I packed my personal hygiene items in my weekend bag I wondered if I should pack some sanitary supplies because my period was late. That’s weird I thought and then I started feeling my breasts and realized they were sensitive. On a whim I took a pregnancy test. I continued to pack though and only casually glanced at the results knowing in my heart like so many other times what I would see. I guess that is why I collasped onto the floor holding tightly to the test strip.
I was shocked to see two bright pink lines.
How had this happened? After more than 18 months of using every fertility stategy I knew to conceive, this baby had just slipped in so silently. So gracefully. While at the monastery I contemplated how miracles happen in our lives and I discovered for me anyway they come when I let go. When I surrender. When I’m grateful for all I’ve been given.
It’s in that sacred place when small seeds are often planted.
Just before Christmas of that year our daughter Grace was born.
The picture above is in our front yard, next to our little pond where roses bloom and our Buddha man welcomes those to our home. Seeing this picture reminds me of the Buddhist retreat I attended after a dark winter of grief. It was over two decades ago now when I went to meditate and practice yoga carrying the tiny beginnings of our beautiful daughter Grace Elizabeth. (She was around 31/2 in this picture)
Above are our eight children. From Left to right, Harrison, Grace, William, Alyssa, Clark, Kathryn, Mitchell, and Victoria.
I’m sharing this story today because it was 24 years ago this month when darkness filled our world and here it is almost a quarter of a century later and our world has not progressed further. We are still living in a world where peace is but a dream. The war that Russia started three and a half years ago with Ukraine continues. There is currently a terrifying war between Israel and Hamas. The Palestinian people are literally starving to death in front of our eyes.
Eruptions of unrest ring out through the world. And this week, closer to home, south of our border another act of hatred recently occurred.
A few days ago, the day before the anniversary of 911, an American conservative political activist, and Trump supporter, Charlie Kirk, was assassinated while hosting a Utah college event for Turning Point USA, an organisation he had co-founded. I knew who Charlie Kirk was as I had sought out some of his social media podcasts. I wanted to understand his views and figure out why he was so charismatic with the right wing younger aged Trump base. He was almost the same age as our oldest son Clark.
I watched without judgment at first but I abhored most of his belief’s and had a hard time understanding how he could call himself a Christian. And yet I had the self awareness to realize this was hypocritical of me since I try to follow Christ’s teachings and one is to judge not! And yet, I’m human. I disliked his negative words towards people of colour, the non white immigrants who were in the U.S., his strong feelings towards women’s rights, (their bodies particularly) and his hateful feelings towards the LGBTQ+ community. I was raised in a Christian home with the belief that Jesus came to teach us to love everyone. EVERYONE!!!….without questioning their colour, race, gender, or whom they loved. I guess that is why I could not understand his views. But I was conflicted because I knew I was judging him.
I believe in the right for free speech however and even if I don’t share his views I’m glad I live in a world where we aren’t prosecuted for sharing our thoughts and ideas. My first thought when I heard the news he had been shot and killed was extreme sadness that our world had again darkened. That our world had created another person who had such hatred in their hearts that they felt compelled to kill another person and while yes, Charlie Kirk was confrontational and right out there with his views making him a clear target, he was just doing what he believed was his mission. I was also extremely sad for his family, his wife, his two children. I know what it’s like to lose a father at a young age and it alters everything. My second thought was why are guns so easy to obtain in the States. Why aren’t there more restrictions? I understand on this same day there was a school shooting in Colorado that was lost under the news of Charlie’s death. It’s becoming so commonplace in the States to have a school shooting that it almost doesn’t get notated.
But guns almost seem to go with Americans like Apple Pie at Thanksgiving so I doubt if anything will change after Charlie’s death.
It’s been a tough week full of emotion as I remember the terrorist attack on the World Trade Towers on September 11, 2001, as I remember the joy I felt finding out I was pregnant 24 years ago and then the bleak depression I dropped into after the loss of our baby. I thought of the preceding years and how not much has changed on this earth.
But it’s also been a time of light and joy for me since our daughter Grace was born.
She and I have had a difficult year as she is almost through University and is flexing her wings and starting to fly. It’s normal to have a disconnect while raising an older child and often it can be extremely disruptive as children move out into the world to start their own lives. Sadly, many mothers take the brunt of the break when their children leave the nest. However, as challenging as it is, I wouldn’t have wished it any other way and missed the opportunity to watch a miracle be born. A miracle grow and inspire me to believe in the goodness that can be created in this world when we let go, surrender and have faith.
She has also taught me that struggle with others can be our greatest gift and blessing.
With this mindset I’m moving forward and trusting light will shine through the crack. This is why I decided to blog today. Finally I can share a story and shine a bit of light out into the world. We don’t have to agree with others and their views; the people they choose to love or the paths they choose to walk, but if we want any peace on this planet we need to let go and have faith. We need to be grateful for our differences and celebrate where we can come together. It’s with the hope for humanity which will move us forward. How did the events of this week affect you? Did you go down memory lane too? Whatever road you took I hope you can join me in opening up that crack and place a few seeds of love in the wall. Maybe with time something incredibly beautiful will grow.
My blog title was hatred begets hatred. I fear Charlie Kirk sprinkled hatred in many of his speeches and as such that hate, like karmic retribution he was killed.
That is why I’m encouraging the opposite. Love begets Love and boy we need that more as 2025 comes to a close.
To conclude this blog post I thought it would be appropriate to share a video John Lennon wrote called, “Instant Karma, (We all Shine On) I find it also interesting that John also was killed by gun violence. Will we ever learn?
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Blessings from Hope
