Four Seeds of Possibility

Spring has arrived on the west coast of Canada and it has been a gorgeous week! I have enjoyed long dog walks, socially distanced visits with friends, and a bit of early gardening. This has been a lovely week, I haven’t felt this good for a while. But all that said, I have had no desire to write this week. Ideas have been percolating in my head – they always do – but nothing of substance has surfaced to grab on to and write about.

So I thought I might skip my blog post this week. But I don’t want to. I don’t know about you but when I take a break from a routine, or cheat on a diet, or leave a project lingering too long on the corner of my desk, there is then a strong possibility that I won’t return to it. And I am worried that if I don’t blog this week, that I will then skip next week, and the next week, and so.

I’m hoping you’re okay if I just share some of the ideas whirling in my head this week. They may be the focus of a longer blog post some day. But right now they are concepts, thoughts, ideas – seeds of possibility – that have captured my attention, and I have put them aside for further reflection.

Earlier this week in a Facebook post, Parker J. Palmer scattered some seeds of possibility for his readers. Parker’s use of the word ‘possibility’ caught my attention. When I launched my blog I wrote that I wanted to explore the ageless possibilities that are open to us as we become wiser, speak our truth, and live meaningful lives. Reading Palmer’s post I realized that what excites me is exploring seeds of possibility and how they may intersect my life. And I enjoy sharing the seeds that resonate for me and hearing what you think. They may not all seem relevant as you paddle north but these are the ripples nudging my canoe this week. I am planting these seeds because, as Palmer wrote in his post, you never know what might grow from them!

Weaving a tapestry of human connections

Since I began my career as a community developer almost 20 years ago, I have described my role as one of being an information broker and relationship builder. I spent years connecting people with common interests and linking them to information and resources.  It was only a few years ago that I realized that I am a weaver. In the context of my work life, a weaver is someone who knows how to bridge between the different silos and sectors of society. A weaver has mastered the art of connecting people and organizations who were previously unconnected and often even unaware of each other’s roles within a complex system.

But these days I am more interested in a different type of weaver. These days, I am intrigued by people who have a natural affinity to others on a more personal level. We all know them. People who create connections and help others realize they are not alone. This is the person who invites neighbours to Christmas dinner; who gets to know the homeless person sitting in front of Starbucks and connects him to local agencies; and, who introduces two strangers with a similar interest in walking the Camino.

When I began my blog I shared that I wanted to create a community where we can support each other as we journey north. This is what a weaver does – although I am not sure yet how I can make that happen. Maybe just writing about experiences that resonate for many of you is enough. This is a seed of possibility that I hope will grow for me.       

Language isn’t just what’s spoken

 A powerful piece re-aired by On Being has me thinking about not only the power of words but also the power of unspoken words. For the poet, Ocean Vuong, language can “begin and end in the body. Language is something we carry.” Vuong describes learning how to read the language of the body when his mother commented on the standing ovation he’d gotten from old white people after one of his poetry readings. The next day he watched her in her nail salon, kneeling before old white people. Vuong’s words make me realize that how I express myself – how we express ourselves - goes far beyond the words we speak and write. 

Experience does not always come with age

 “If you’re over 45 and don’t have a younger mentor – not mentee, mentor – then you’re going to miss fundamental shifts in thinking that are happening.”

A couple of years ago I interviewed for an Executive Director position with an association connected to the medical professional. Part of their mandate was to grow their mentoring program – older professionals mentoring recent graduates. I suggested they might also want to consider the reverse – young professionals, full of new ideas and the latest teachings, mentoring an older generation. I was met with silence, although I did see a glimmer in the eye of one of my interviewers.

I have been a mentor, in both an official and unofficial capacity. I have also been mentored. Now as I get older, I am aware the brilliant young minds we have raised. I have younger colleagues who guide me with their wisdom and experience. I look at my daughters and their friends and I am literally blown away by their confidence, creativity, and willingness to take risks. I hope I can continue to learn from them.

Knitting as a creation story

And can I share one of my favourite reads from this week with you? I read so many amazing things that sometimes I think I could just have a blog and share the words of other women. For example, Anne Lamott’s Facebook post this Sunday morning – wow!

So, I love reading almost anything by Barbara Kingsolver. I have read all of her fiction and her books of essays. Her book, The Prodigal Summer, is one of my all-time favourite books. I went with my friend Sharon to hear Kingsolver and her husband speak at the University of British Columbia many years ago.  Tears of laughter streamed as I listened to her story of trying to impregnate turkeys. Her latest book, How to Fly in Ten Thousand Easy Lessons, a book of poetry, sits on my bookshelf waiting to be read.

This week she shared the news that their flock matriarch Nicky, who at 16 years old might have been the oldest Icelandic sheep in the world, had passed away. Nicky left a legacy of 30 fleeces and 18 lambs. This led to lots of questions from readers about knitting, spinning, and all things woolgathering. And so Kingsolver shared the article Where It Begins, her meditation on knitting, from beginning to end. I don’t think you need to be a knitter to enjoy this article, you just need to enjoy Barbara Kingsolver’s writing, or enjoy crafting and creating by whatever medium you favour.

I hope you enjoy reflecting on these seeds of possibility. Drop us a comment to share how they might resonate for you. I’m not sure where they’ll take me but I expect something will grow from them.