My spiritual director, who knows me well after 14 years, reminded me yesterday of a time several years ago when I was coming to the realization that it was time to “come home.” He reminded me about how lonely and miserable I was in Toronto after living away for 5 years. Might have been in the aftermath of a very cheap makeshift bookcase/home shrine collapse when we were all still mostly working from home during Covid. (pictured above and below, before and after … ) Somehow I rallied and pushed through.
In the fall of 2023, although I had mixed feelings about leaving the congregation that I had grown to love, I knew I had done all that I could, I was tired and burnt out after Covid (as were many faith leaders), and it was time to hand things over … to trust that they would find their strength and that God was still very much working amongst them … and would continue to do so … even after I left!
And, it was also time to turn my full attention (at least for awhile!) to taking care of myself body, mind and spirit.
Since then, it’s been a bit of whirlwind. Sometimes it feels like it’s been the easiest transition I have ever made … and I have made many. Other times … it’s been a slog. Particularly when it comes to aging and facing the truth of what happens physically when we age. I am not sure I was fully prepared for that. Seems almost like a full time job keeping up when you get to a certain age.
There was all the usual stuff that I have been dealing with for years … blood pressure, blood sugars, bad knees, my achilles injury, which all needed attention. Then there was the new stuff … the mild hearing loss that I was absolutely not prepared for … and resisted at first … and then a worsening of one knee and recognizing my propensity to fall. Now I am preparing for cataract surgery sometime in the not too distant future, which I am absolutely terrified of. It is never ending. And yet …
In the midst of my angst and self absorption, I am also acutely aware of my power and privilege, the choices that I have, and the fact that it is all just an accident of birth that I have all that.
I don’t take Ubers often since I came from Toronto, but I do occasionally. In Toronto, it was not uncommon for me to spend up to $300 a month on Ubers during a busy month, traveling from one end of the city to another in the evenings. I justified it by thinking “well, even that is cheaper than a car payment.”
The other morning Pat had the car (he had to be in by 7:45, and was schlepping a bunch of equipment) … and I called an Uber. In Toronto, I would often have the most interesting conversations with Uber drivers, many of them newcomers to Canada. In Halifax, the ride is hardly long enough (8-10 minutes) to get anything going. However, in that short time, the driver and I struck up a conversation. I found out he was a neurologist from Tehran, married to a dentist … with two children aged 14 and 9. He and his wife are both doing what they need to do, including learning English, which I thought was pretty good for only being here for two years, and taking the required courses and upgrades needed to begin to work in their respective professions. When I asked him if he liked Canada, he said “We love it here!” He also said that his children have adjusted well. “Iran is a dictatorship you know”, he said. Yes, I said, I did know. The conversation raised my spirits for the rest of the day. And put me in a place of deep gratitude for so many things that I often take for granted.
It is hard to keep hope alive in these times. I can’t tell you how many conversations I have had with many of you about how scary these times are … how upsetting the news is … how much the world has changed. It’s all true. Sometimes, I can hardly believe what is happening in the United States.
I continue to look to trusted writers and authors for wisdom and inspiration. In the past few months I have been following Arlene Dickenson, South African and Canadian businesswoman, investor, author, and television personality. She has written some very inspiring pieces in the past few months, and I became aware of her posts as they became more prominent in response to the early days of the Trump administration. Several days ago she wrote this:
“Anaïs Nin said life shrinks or grows in proportion to one’s courage.
I think about this a lot when I see adults, at any age, settling into smaller and smaller worlds. The same coffee order, the same daily routines. The same conversations with the same people about the same safe topics.
When exactly in our lives does predictability start passing for an accomplishment ? What happens to the curiosity and courage of our youth? Somewhere along the way, we start to mistake routine for wisdom and comfortable circumstances for contentment. It’s a complacency that eventually leads to living in a small room, looking out at life through a window.
What if growing older meant growing larger instead of smaller?”
I was inspired … you can read the rest of the column at Make your world bigger not smaller - by Arlene Dickinson
This week, we will be talking about Creation and climate change … again, could be a depressing topic. Another inspirational piece comes from Rebecca Solnit as she reflects on the 20th Anniversary of Hurricane Katrina and the devastation of New Orleans. She ends with “It is a difficult and scary time, but I believe we were made for this.” I will probably refer to this article on Sunday in my reflection. You can read it in its entirety at
And, for pure escapism, may I recommend The Thursday Murder Club on Netflix. I have read all the books by Richard Osmon, and have been waiting in great anticipation for the movie, starring Helen Mirren, Pierce Brosnan, Ben Kingsley, and Celia Imrie. I always imagined that if I was lucky enough to make it to a retirement community, I would be a member of the Thursday Murder Club. The movie did not disappoint. Lots of fun and wonderful to see how much fun the actors are having. Here’s the trailer:
The Thursday Murder Club | Official Trailer | Netflix - YouTube
Have a good weekend. See you Sunday. Below is my beautiful office at Kingston Road United Church. Can’t say I don’t miss that …
