Heart of Canada

A Thought For The Weekend

Start by doing what's necessary, then do what's possible, and suddenly you are doing the impossible."
--Saint Francis of Assisi

QQs

Here's another one:

"If you have nothing to lose, you can try everything."
- Yiddish proverb

No fear.

On another note, I think I'm going to buy a copy of Peter Newman's book on Mulroney. What Mulroney was quoted as saying about his own story looked pretty tantalizing to me:

The only question they're going to have to wonder about is whether they've got enough paper in the forest to print the fucking books," Mulroney said.  "I'll tell you this, if there ain't a good book in this, there's not a good book in Canadian history. [Link]

There's nothing quite like tales told from the inside. This one should be a keeper.

QQs

I saw this rather striking statement at the bottom of an e-mail sent to me today:

"He who sees a need and waits to be asked for help is as unkind as if he had refused it."
--Dante Alighieri (1265-1321)

Positano

Tony Nuccio has absolutely beautiful pictures of Positano, Italy and the surrounding landscapes. It's nice to have Rachel Portman's Positano playing in the background while you look at the photos. *sigh*

I so very much want to live in a slow city and eat slow food.

Today's Thought

Some people seem regularly to be willing to blather on about things of which they know little or nothing at all.

/today's thought

If You've Decided To Use The F Word

Chances are, if you have something nasty to say, I have not only heard it before, but have heard it several times. Thus, if you intend to hurt my feelings, please be creative.Let me help you get started. Here is A Helpful Guide to Words and Phrases That Do Not Hurt: feminazi, socialist, Marxist, ugly, dyke, man-hater, man-eater, misandrist, frigid, sexist, bitch, slut, whore, etc. in all their various incarnations and related terminology. I will be more insulted if you badmouth one of my favorite bands than if you revert to name-calling. Really....

I am not interested in meeting feminist standards of card-carrying feminism. If you read feminist literature, it is likely you have run across the term “feminism(s)” or read that “there are as many feminisms as there are feminists.”

The quotation is an excerpt from a recent diatribe over at feministe. I kind of laughed when I read this part of her post, but it was the kind of laugh that springs from recognition, the kind that can be translated into a small nod of the head or a "yeah."

I've never embraced the word "feminist" to describe my view of the world, and I doubt I'd be mistaken for a Marxist. On the other hand, if I so much as open my mouth in the direction of expressing thoughts about women's status in society, protrayal in the media, or use in marketing, some readers will immediately reply with the F word -- feminist -- in retort to what I have said. Some of those readers are women.

Citing the ever encroaching authority of "the nanny state," these readers seem to want society to put no limits on marketers, and if you object to degrading posts on blogs about women, you will be sure to stir the dregs of hostility into a full-out blogwar. I don't usually advocate writing laws that restrict what marketers can do. Instead, I expect people to vote with their feet and not support organizations (or bloggers) who reap benefits from exploiting others. There are plenty of fine companies and bloggers out there who don't.

In day-to-day life, the situation is usually much different. People aren't so willing to jump out and pin a big F to your chest, but they show their biases in other ways. For example, I have seen men and women alike overtly discount the concerns of women by just denying that they hold any validity or credibility. When I've brought up concerns, myself, I've had men reply "No, that's not true," even to the mostly strikingly obvious of situations. On the other hand, I've also seen men override each other's rights and feelings and have found myself sticking up, at times, for them as well. Accordingly, I find myself feeling simultaneously alienated from and identifying with the word feminist.

Therefore, I've come to a decision: henceforth, I shall refer to myself as an androgynist, equally concerned with the rights of women and men, as well as the exploitation of adults and children, particularly in the media. What does this mean? Nothing, actually, because it's not like I'm going to be actively crusading for or against anything in particular. On the other hand, it will give me a link to point to the next time someone knee-jerkishly replies to one of my posts by using the "F" word simply because they couldn't think of something less hostile and more interesting so say.

If the same readers decide to use the A word, now, instead of the F word, at least we'll be on equal footing, as I know an, admittedly shorter, A word that would nicely apply to people who engage in dialogue like that. In the words of feministe, "If you address me with sarcasm, I likely will address you with the same. One cannot expect a thoughtful and intelligent answer to an unthoughtful comment." If I've directed you to this link because of something you said in my comments section, consider yourself corrected.

I, Fox.

You are the fox.

 Saint Exupery's 'The Little Prince' Quiz.

          brought to you by Quizilla

A woman I know lay critically ill. She always had a moment for me, a kind word, even when others close to her did not.

I would like to live in the world of The Little Prince tonight:

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; What is essential is invisible to the eye."

"To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world."

- Antoine de Sainte-Exupery

[Via Rana]

Why I Love New Yorkers

If I were to describe the essential quality of the New York spirit, the one quality I learned to admire and to emulate when I was schooled there, it would be sophisticated fearlessness. Who could help but admire a people so unabashedly unafraid of deeper thought, reflexive contemplation, that actually leads people to change their minds, grow beyond an experience, or admit they were mistaken?

Reflexive contemplation has been the death knell for many a politician or newspaper editor in the flurry-scurry business of inventing hasty headlines. Deep down, though, people essentially know that superficial assumptions and rhetoric make for cheap politics -- cheesy puffs -- whereas the meatiness of reflexive contemplation restores and builds.

The ability of a person to remain flexible in thinking, to have a change of heart, or to see another point of view, these qualities stand out, for me, as paramount. Sadly, many people would have anything but admiration for reflexive contemplation, seeing it as a threatening streak of boldness or some kind of churlish independence.

Surely only descendants of Diana Moon Glampers, herself, could interpret deeper thought as insolence, as if one were somehow taking unfair advantange of one's own brains; for change arising from reflexive contemplation remains a quality of true royalty, the inheritance of divine kings. Reflexive contemplation nurtures mercy and taps the wellspring of forgiveness. Without it, we are consigned to rigid partisanship and unrelenting dominance wrought by misunderstanding the true nature of power, for true power requires continual adjustment and calibrated change to the world's challenges.

In our era, having a change of heart seems a sign of weakness, mercy. Softening or changing one's mind signals a loss of control, not forgiveness. So imagine my surprise when I read these words published in New York Metro:

After the blizzard and before the fashion shows, you may have heard, the elections in Iraq went off extremely well. Remember?....

New Yorkers think we are smarter than other Americans, that the richness and difficulty of life here give our intelligence a kind of hard-won depth and nuance and sensitivity to contradictions and ambiguity. We feel we are practically French. Most New Yorkers are also liberals. And most liberals, wherever they live, believe that they are smarter than most conservatives (particularly George W. Bush).

Each of us has a Hobbesian choice concerning Iraq; either we hope for the vindication of Bush’s risky, very possibly reckless policy, or we are in a de facto alliance with the killers of American soldiers and Iraqi civilians. We can be angry with Bush for bringing us to this nasty ethical crossroads, but here we are nonetheless.

New York. That bastion of liberalism. That crown jewel of chic. In truth, New Yorkers are better than that. Through the rich diversity of their city, from crushing poverty and drug dealing in Washington Square Park, to Village shops selling $15,000 Warhol prints and stunningly true wealth, New Yorkers recognize both the reality of difference and the importance of perspective. We chide them for being fashion kings and queens, yet it is that very sensitivity to what is trendy or gauche that asserts their very openness to change. Are they smarter than everyone else? Perhaps, but only because they don't handicap themselves like Vonnegutian thought police.

Coupled with careful thinking, New Yorkers' openness, not their liberalness, makes the New York spirit a national and international treasure. Their sophisticated fearlessness, perhaps borne by the greatness of their city, itself, enables them to communicate that openness of thought, that reflexive contemplation, to the world. More than the twin towers were targets on 9/11: it was the spirit of New Yorkers that terrorists wished to quell, and it is that very spirit, that sophisticated fearlessness rooted in genuine openness to change, which will, in the end, be an enduring frustration for tyrants in the world. Start spreadin' the news.

[Via Miltsfile]

Sunday Evening

Hello

Love Made This Film

"What is our humiliation at the moment is our glory later on."
- St. Therese of Lisieux

Hubby and I wanted to see the premier of a movie I'd been anticipating the release of for over a year. I was worried we wouldn't be able to get tickets because of Friday night line ups and, sure enough, by the time we finished up with dinner and did our driving-teens-around stint, we arrived at the theatre only a few minutes before the start of the film. The movie, of course, was the Canadian premiere of Thérèse, the story of St. Theresa of Lisieux, my patron saint. 

As we walked in, nobody was in line but us and then a friend of ours soon after. We hurried into the theatre and really had our pick of seats because there were only about a dozen people in attendance. The jaded part of me wasn't surprised, but the true me was disappointed. I wanted the theatre to be jam-packed. Then I thought, how appropriate, a little audience for her little way.

In a word, the film was gentle. Full of pathos and compassion, the film is a beautiful testament to the true vocation of the Little Flower, which was love. Everything about this film was love, from the donations that made the film possible to the simple beauty of the cinematography to the soundtrack written by a cloistered Carmelite sister, the film embraces you with its simple, yet powerful, message and emotion.

I have read many books about our Little Sister, including her autobiography, so as I watched the film, I kept filling in details from the works I had read. However, I thought the film producers captured the essential details of her life, including her continuing faith despite her long-suffering spiritual crisis.

Besides being a straighforward telling of her lifestory, however, this film, in its small way, succeeds in making a much larger point about the dignity and value of devotion to a true vocation. While we all have vocations -- callings -- to various types of service or work in life, this film illustrates the value of a religious vocation in service to others, prayer, and communal life. The film moves us with the power of her love.

When I think of Thérèse, I wonder whether it is possible for the world to tolerate a person who has so much love for others within her. Perhaps even in our own era -- especially in our own era -- we can take instruction from this young woman, this doctor of the church, in how to love one another.

True Charity consists in bearing with all the defects of our neighbor, in not being surprised at his failings, and in being edified by his least virtues; Charity must not remain shut up in the depths of the heart, for no man lighteth a candle and putteth it under a bushel, but upon a candlestick, that it may shine to all that are in the house. (Cf. Matthew 5:15). It seems to me that this candle represents the Charity which ought to enlighten and make joyful, not only those who are dearest to me, but all who are in the house.
- St. Theresa of Lisieux,Story of A Soul, Chpt. IX