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Ode to Joy~ —

Signs of spring. A jolt of joy! Blossoms cheer, weary hearts. Ode to Joy, hope and faith. Cheers to you and Happy Spring~

Ode to Joy~ —

I am back. I took a sabbatical of sorts from the blog, as I only checked in on comments and to follow up through the reader. It has been a busy time supervising student teachers, attending online events, presenting at online events, writing, getting published, and life in general. I am unsure how active I will be. I hope to be posting 2-3 times a week and maybe write some new poetry.

I return with a share from Cindy who takes wonderful pictures of nature close to home in the Holler and further afield. The images remind me we are entering the time of the year where life comes alive after its dormant period, Yes, things do remain in a state of flux with weather. Despite the uncertainty, it is a time to rejoice and search out the joy and beauty located wherever we look in nature.

Cindy shared a video of musicians playing Beethoven’s 9th Symphony as a virtual ensemble. Artists of all forms find ways to lead us in the most challenging times and COVID-19 is no exception. I am grateful we have wonderful artists who take the lead in meaningful ways.

It has been hard this past year for each of us with less social interaction. An emerging area of interest for me is the role virtual communities can and will play in our lives moving forward. It is what I presesnted on this past weekend and am fleshing out an article for submission. People surprised me with their response to what I talked about. I see hope and joy in sharing online. It brings me together, often with people I have not met and likely will never meet.

Common is the root word of community, communicate, and communion. What do we have in common that brings us together, besides our grievances and grief? In short, what gives each of us joy? How do we experience communicating what we receive from others and share with others? How has listening to others changed in this brave new world? Communion goes beyond the religious concept, speaking to a level of intimacy. How do we reveal who we are in a virtual world? Virtual and virtue share etymological roots, speaking to our character in these communities.

I leave you with a video from Mavis Staples. How do we get it together and bring joy into our lives as a collective and community?

A Place; A Space

Over the last few years, I have increasingly exlored how we use language. For example, we use the word organization as a noun for places where we work, learn, and play. It grows static and lifeless Yet, its root, organ, suggests life and interacting with one another. John Dewey and Ivan Illich referred to interacting and communicating as intercourse. This suggests we engage in intimacy and love as we communicate with one another.

As well, an organ, as a musical instrument, needs a human touch. At our best, we organize, work, and learn, through a common purpose, like in a jazz ensemble, and what calls each of us in some meanfinful way. In a neo-liberal and neo-conservative world, organizing, working, and learning fall short of the common good (common weal) and what calls each of us to feel fufilled, perhaps self-actualized.

Out of this reflecting emerged the following poem.

This place–

This space–

Welcoming–

Beckoning.

When cold, aloof–

As a frigid lover–

Pushing us away;

Denying intimacy.

As an anxious lover–

Frantically clinging;

Giving no room to breath.

As a capricious lover–

Now here;

Now gone.

At its best–

Fully alive;

Not on life support!

Exuding hearty warmth–

Healthy, vibrant;

Touching in human ways.

Gentle lover embracing–

Inviting and holding close;

Letting us breath.

A place–

A space–

Wanting to be.

A place–

A space–

Calling, giving voice.

Sharing–

Drawing us each closer;

To our common humanity.

Yesterday, I heard the following song by Mavis Staples. It reminded me, regardless of how things are going, there are always high notes in life.

Listening

I began to write this poem after a long and tiring week. Sometimes, when I step back from the visceral nature of my emotions, postive and negative, I find a kernel to prompt writing, thinking, and acting.

Too often, I find myself talking when I should be listening. This includes listening to me, and, more importantly, listening to those whose stories are silenced in unjust ways. I think those two forms of listening go hand-in-hand. Not listening to others is often a product of being so busy with the noise of my own life. When I listen from the heart, I hear words anew.

Rich stories silenced–

Seeking just spaces,

Sharing and healing;

To speak freely.

Listening deeply–

Sadly, stories unheard,

Of being oppressed;

Shunted to the margins.

Listening with heart–

Leaning into stories,

With grace and humility,

Hearing for the first time.

Am I ready to act?

Listening, hearing–

But, without doing;

(In)justice remains.

I listen to the blues, gospel, and jazz most of my life. When it comes to the blues, gospel, and jazz music I am aware of the privilege I experience and do not take it for granted.  As a Canadian, I attended concerts, because African-American performers came to Canada. They had access to venues I could attend here that they did not have in their own country.

Today, I heard Mavis Staples (on her latest album) singing and it resonated. For real and just change to emerge, I must be willing to listen and change the things I can.  When I listen to the blues and gospel music, particularlyperformed by African-American women, there is an undercurrent for meaningful and just change in the world.

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