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We Are Still The World

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Holiday Musings: A My Town Monday Post

When 6 of the 8 tiles I had painstakingly carved cracked in the bisque kiln, I was somewhat disappointed. I had expected to have them ready for the holidays. The patterns were wonderful; yet the cracks were certain to migrate through the pieces.  I left them on my work table, wondering what to do.

An artist friend came into the studio, and we talked about the pieces that were less than perfect.  What is it, I wondered, that makes an item a “second.” Could I embrace the crack as the nature of that particular piece?.

I began to think about the whole concept of perfection.  We look at ourselves and question our hair, or  our eyes or our body types. We look at our homes or our jobs or our families and compare them with what the dominant culture tells us is perfect.

Nature does not determine that an oak tree or a rock or a lake is less than perfect. Why do we as humans tend to put conditions on our environments, our relationships, our lives?

When Amish women make a quilt they intentionally make a mistake; mid-Eastern rug makers do the same. Only the gods are perfect.   A finger mark or tiny crack on a hand-crafted piece is really the mark of the craftsman.  It lets us know that the piece was made by a human, with all our imperfections, rather that a machine.

The mark of the craftsman does not detract from the beauty of the piece; rather, it enhances it, I think. And it is the challenges and experiences in life that give our lives texture and richness.

It is, I believe, time to let go of our notions of perfection, and embrace that which makes us human.   Keeping that in mind, I wish us all an imperfect holiday.

Skilled hands at Elements Gallery, Peninsula, OHSkilled hands at Elements Gallery, Peninsula, OHSkilled hands at Elements Gallery, Peninsula, OH

These skilled hands wish you kind, happy, healthy, loving and peaceful days.

Peaceful hands at Elements Gallery, Peninsula, OH

Visit My Town Monday for a look at other places on this fine blue planet we call home. and, if you are so inclined, please visit, Cups of Kindness, our benefit for the Akron-Canton Regional Foodbank.

As always, please feel free to leave a comment, or a stone (o), to let me know you’ve stopped by.

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The Power of Our Collective Energy

The Light Shines Down on UsThe internet is a tool that connects people all over this fine blue planet. We share our thoughts, needs, desires and look at our internal demons, with the support of friends we have never met. Prayers and positive energy fly on the gossamer wings of our intent.

If you visit Cheaper Than Therapy,  you will connect with a family who could use the power of our collective energy, as their son, who is in his early twenties, struggles to recover from H1N1.  Please consider sending good thoughts.

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My Town Monday: A 5K From the Heart

Teamwork at the Bures-Wershing Memorial 5K Run-WalkWhen my brother-in-law died unexpectedly this summer, my husband and his sister lost a brother, my in-laws lost a son, my children lost an uncle, my niece and nephew lost a dad. Others lost a friend and neighbor. Then 33 days later, my niece and nephew lost their mom to cancer.

I am no stranger to the anguish of loss, and to the hard work of grief. These are great equalizers, and experiences no one wants, but everyone will share.

It is one thing to see that there is a need; it is another to actively respond to it and to generate a solution to the problem. One person with an idea plants the seed and nurtures it. And so the Bures-Wershing Memorial 5K Walk-Run was born.

One hundred-fifteen people, from 2-62 years of age,  from all walks of life, and assorted locations, shared their common ground. Eighty-six walkers and runners, twenty-three volunteers, and others who couldn’t come, but sent their support. One hundred-fifteen people sharing an experience. One hundred-fifteen people who, with their hearts, reached out.

We all do live in the same town, you know. We breathe the same air, look at the same blue sky and the same full moon.  Members, all, of the family of man. When we help each other, we all win. Common ground indeed.

Gathering before the Bures-Wershing Memorial 5K Walk/Run Start of the Bures-Wershing Memorial 5K Walk-Run

A cousin supports her family at the Bures-Wershing Memorial 5K.

Littlest runner at Bures-Wershing Memorial 5K



We are all winners:Bures-Wershing Memorial 5K

As always, feel free to leave a comment, or a stone (o), to let me know you’ve been here.

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My Town Monday is hosted by the lovely and talented Clair Dickson. For links to others who write about their towns, run—or walk–here.

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Wish Her a Happy Birthday…

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Of Fathers on this Day

Two years ago on Fathers’ Day, my Dad had a massive stroke.  On this day, I reflect on him and his desire to create a life for him and for his wife and daughters, one that had all the things he didn’t have.  He would have appreciated this, with its philosophical point of view:

Debra Bures' of Elements Gallery, Peninsula, OH would have appreciated this.My children have a Dad who is kind, gentle and caring.  He has been a pony, a trampoline and a climbing gym. He has fixed broken toys, made dolls and doll furniture.  He has read countless books,  told stories and colored pictures. He has chased balls, held bikes while his daughters learned to ride and played sleeping rocks. He has fetched frisbees from trees and from the roof and cats from trees. He has been the recipient of  many gifts,  both tangible and intangible, and he keeps them all in his heart.  He has been mentor, guide and confidant, encouraging those in his life to be all they can be.   I am blessed to have him in mine.

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My Town Monday: To Honor the Fathers and The Mothers

Saturday was the 65th anniversary of D-Day.  Many men and women on both sides of the Pond, from all walks of life experienced things that changed their lives in ways they could not have imagined. They were from all walks of life; from cities and from villages. They wore olive drab and navy blue, uniforms, work clothes and house dresses. They lived in the dark at night, and spent hours in shelters.  They experienced shortages of food, clothing and fuel.

Their courage and their stories have no boundaries.  They teach us that we do live in the same town, on this beautiful blue planet we call Earth.

Please click here and here to read about my family’s experiences at that time.

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Travis Erwin runs the My Town Monday marquis. Wander on there to see what he has to say.

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To Honor the Fathers…

They are fathers, grandfathers and great-grandfathers, old men now. They are forgotten heroes, many of whom as boys really, witnessed the horrors of genocide, the stench of death. grandpaandgigi

They signed up to help the war effort. To fight for their country, for what, in their heart of hearts, they felt was right. Hastily trained, they went overseas, on ships that were floating cities. My father was an optometry student, my father-in-law, an architecture student. Both were sent to Europe. My Dad had been tested to be a fighter pilot. He rated highly, but his air sicknesses changed that direction, and he was sent to work in a hospital in England. He never talked much about his experiences there, choosing only to relate humorous ones.

My father-in-law was in the engineer corps. They were sent ahead of the rest of the troops to clear mines and to build roads and bridges. He had no idea that when he was sent to the town of Buchenwald, Germany, that he would witness the some of the evils of human nature, horrors he has relived in the years since.

Neither man talked much about what they witnessed and how they felt about it, sharing only snippets of these experiences that shaped their lives. It seems to me that sometimes the quietest people have the most to say; we need to take a moment to listen, with our ears, our eyes and our hearts.

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Wise Words

Bitphoto courtesy Laura Weldon

My good and wise friend Laura Weldon sent me Paul Hawken’s commencement address to the Class of 2009, the University of Portland.  It resonated deeply with me and I pass it on to you:

Published on Saturday, May 23, 2009 by CommonDreams.org


Article printed from www.CommonDreams.org

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Musings on a Day for Mothers

Redbuds in BloomI have mixed feelings on this day of days.  I am reminded that I am a motherless child and that there are so many things I would ask my mom if she were here.  I can still hear her voice on the phone, “Hi, Doll.”  And I can see the young mother with 2 daughters making grilled cheese sandwiches to go with the tomato soup that came out of the red and white can. I think of the woman who witnessed this daughter’s journey for independence and to find her own way. The woman who didn’t understand the choices her daughter made and had her own struggle to accept them.  The woman who loved her granddaughters unconditionally.

I remember my mother in her ICU bed, telling me that I had taught her a lot about being a mother, and thanking me. I remember one of her gifts to me when I didn’t know where to be—at her bedside or at home with my husband and daughters. She said, “I love you. Go home. With my blessing.”  I came home on February 15th to my husband playing outside with our daughters. There was a sign on the door. Happy Valentine’s Day. They had moved the day on the calendar so we could celebrate it together.

On this day, as I walked with the dogs, I thought of the sweetnesses that I have experienced in these woods, of #1 daughter being a pony or a unicorn, galloping through the woods, hair flying as her spirit soared.  Of #2 daughter stopping at each Jack-in-the-Pulpit to make sure Jack was home. “Hello, Jack,” she said each and every time. Of my mother-in-law, reminding me that I am her other daughter, her love-in-law.

Happy Mothers’ Day to us all. Those of us who are one, who made one, and who have or had one.  Take a moment to cherish those you love.

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Thanks to these fine women, among many others, who have shared their thoughts on this day:

Carleen

Carleen, once again

Karen

RudeeK

distracted by shiny objects

Mrs. Chili

Savannah

Patti

Cat

CodePink Mothers' Day Call for Peace

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