All change

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Change is the one constant we can count on...

Amanda

June 30th: This day last year was my final day at my college-instructor desk. The next day was the first day of my next chapter.

Tomorrow, July 1st, will mark the end of my first 365 days as a retired person, a retiree. Whatever that means to you, for me it means having the time to explore who I am in this next chapter, in this Third Act, and what I'm doing as myself in my own time. It turns out, the longer I am retired, the more things I am interested in doing in the time I now have. 

Today, in addition to being a writer, collage artist, and community educator, I am also a writing coach. You can read about this newest identity I am evolving into here.

Holly

The other day, Holly, the cat, pulled a disappearing act that caused my heart to lodge itself in my throat. I have written before about how she has gone missing or, to be more accurate, has hidden herself from our view. So, this time, I thought I knew all the places to look in when she did not willingly come to our calls: inside, behind the hot-water tank; outside, under the false spirea, beneath the dogwood, behind the neighbour's garage. No. She was not there, not in any of those spots. 

Val called up and down the back lane; I called up and down the front street. Nothing. No happy meow from Holly announcing her capitulation to her humans' search. 

After a while, when Val and I met up in the front yard, I again looked under the dogwood and under the spirea: nothing. So then I stood on the little boardwalk at the edge of the yard and looked down into the relatively new planting of meadowsweet -- and, what did I see? Who did I see? Holly! Looking up at me, all innocence, well camouflaged, as much as to say, 'Well, silly human, why wouldn't I be here, hiding nicely under this new lush growth?' Indeed, why not? A new hiding spot is worth exploiting, clearly. 

It seems that, while the cat easily learns new tricks, the humans are a bit slower to figure them out. 

Canada Day

Tomorrow, July 1st, marks Canada Day, which used to be called Dominion Day and is, this year, being called A New Day at The Forks in Winnipeg. 

This new naming of the marking of Canada's "birthday", as a step on the path to reconciliation with the country's First Nations, has caused an outcry from some. But, I say, in this country we all must keep evolving our knowledge and understanding of our history and, in so doing, we must be prepared to do things differently and to use different language. We may feel uncomfortable, even vulnerable, in the newness of the change; so be it. It is the least we can do.  

Every day -- and especially on July 1, we must be open to new ways, and be willing to walk into their challenge and their opportunities.  

Oh, Canada: Every child matters. In every community. Every day. 

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Land acknowledgement: I respectfully recognize that I live on the original lands of Anishinaabe, Cree, Oji-Cree, Dakota and Dene peoples, and on the homeland of the Métis Nation.



Comments

  1. AnonymousJune 30, 2022 at 12:09 PM

    You scared me, Amanda! I thought your Holly story was going to have a sad ending. Thank goodness it did not!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Amanda Le RougetelJune 30, 2022 at 12:54 PM

      Sorry about the scare...Honestly, I can never believe how quickly the taste of fear sets into my mouth and the butterflies of angst flutter in my stomach when I cannot find this feline! Am always so grateful when she's in my arms again...

      Delete
  2. BarbaraJune 30, 2022 at 5:13 PM

    You're right, every child matters, think of how you felt about your missing cat, multiply that by forever and think of how the parents of these children felt. If this small thing that we're doing makes someone feel they are being heard, well, it's the least we can do.

    ReplyDelete

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