I’ve been writing, in one form or another, for most of the day. That, and keeping one wary eye on the Canadian news. I can’t believe what’s happening in the country I love.
For the first time since its creation in 1988 (as a modern-day replacement of the War Measures Act), our Prime Minister. has invoked the Emergencies Act giving the government far-reaching power over its citizens (even more than they’ve had to date during the past two years). This is his attempt to deal with the Freedom Convoy in Ottawa and blockades elsewhere in the country. I’m not going to go into this in any detail other than to say that my heart is very heavy and my concern is great.
I’m working on a new book and looking back through journals and blog posts from the past couple of years in the process. Two years ago, almost to the day, I was pondering these questions: What if I listen to poets more than politicians? And trust prayer more than the news?
They were good questions then, and they’re good questions now. More than that, they’re guidelines for a healthy and balanced way of weathering current storms. I’ve got to set some boundaries or I’m going to lose my mind due to current events here and elsewhere. I’m spending too much time at home and at my keyboard (and the paradox is that it’s also a struggle to go out). Looking back at what has happened for the past two years is a hard slog. Looking forward to what current events may usher in is no less difficult. Any way you slice it, it’s heavy these days.
February is a short month that seems to last forever. Not quite winter and not quite spring, it struggles with its identity, teasing us with warm and sunny days and dashing our hopes with snow falling from the sky (like it did this morning). Oh spring, I need you. I need the heady aroma of potting soil to awaken my senses. I need to dig in the dirt and toss seeds in the ground to kick-start hope. Please hurry.