Withinsight

Here are my entries - now let's have yours.

World swirls and transforms
Breath pulled in and eases out
Life moves me timeless

Red robin cries flies
Blue eggs wait for warm feathers
I step back with grace

The dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement. It is a difficult dream for the European upper classes to interpret adequately, and too many of us ourselves have grown weary and mistrustful of it. It is not a dream of motor cars and high wages merely, but a dream of a social order in which each man and each woman shall be able to attain to the fullest stature of which they are innately capable, and be recognized by others for what they are, regardless of the fortuitous circumstances of their birth or position.

Now that's a dream to revive and to work for...for every nation. Agree?

This is my newspaper column for next week. Comments always welcome.

This little fellow visited our deck yesterday. I love the buzzing, frenetic...yet startling beauty of hummingbirds. Too bad a gas-guzzling piggy vehicle has stolen their nickname...

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Many of us will end up lying beneath a stone with something written on it (we'll all end up somewhere other than this life of course). I have always enjoyed reading a good epitaph - knowing that many are not written by their 'owners'. Here are a few I'm fond of:

Susan B. Anthony (early American feminist)
"Liberty. Humanity. Justice. Equality."


Charles Bukowski (poet)
"Don't try"

Winston Churchill
" I am ready to meet my maker. Whether my maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter."

Emily Dickensen (poet)
"Called back"

Groucho Marx
"Excuse me. I can't stand up."

Dorothy Parker (wit and writer)
"Excuse my dust."

W.B. Yeats -
"Cast a cold eye
On life, on death.
Horseman, pass by."

Robert Frost (poet)
"I had a lover's quarrel with the world."

Now for the interesting part - feel free to leave your own epitaph here - you might leave two - one that is serious and one for fun - you don't have to tell us which you'd actually prefer engraved for you some day in the very far distant future...


I'll start. For Gary.

"He lived. He loved."

OR

"WWW.EMAILMEIFYOUCAN.COM"

I was in the mood to laugh and found my link to this very spiritual Monty Python musical number. If you have four minutes and want a very moving experience, have a peek at Every Sperm is Sacred. Link here.

China is launching its own Wikipedia-type website - where users themselves create an ongoing encyclopedia of information (story here). Of course, this is China, with its strict censorship of internet use and its arrests and executions without much process...so believe me there will be many jobs created to sit and read what is being posted. Knock, knock...

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Anonymous left this message to my earlier post about the death penalty (with Statue of Liberty skirt photo). It's a very compelling story and I want to honour it with those of you who visit here.


I stood behind thick glass filled with chicken wire and watched while Texas murdered my grandson and I held my daughter tightly with both arms wrapped around her to prevent her from trying to claw through the glass to get to her first born son lying on the guerney. The day before they killed him we were allowed to visit him (no contact, ofcourse) and on the execution day he was allowed to phone us at the sanctuary for families.

After over a decade on death row he had matured into a strapping young man and was no longer the brash youngster he had been. And he still professed love for his wife, who had gone off with another man right after his arrest, and asked us to give her his love message. Families never believe that their loved one is guilty but I strongly suspect that his wife was the guilty party and he covered for her, because he spent the entire weekend at my home during the time the crime was committed. But authorities always think families are lying so us providing an alibi was discounted, especially after he accepted the guilt.

As he lay strapped to the gurney he was allowed some last words. He expressed his love for all of us and ended his statement with "tell her I love her and I forgive her ." Forgive her? For what? He never bore her any animosity for taking a lover so soon after the tragedy. He had said, "she's young, it's only natural and right for her to go on with her life, because I'll never be free." His death bed declaration of forgiveness made us even more suspicious of her guilt, but if he was covering for her he took it to his grave. Years later she visited us and was babbling on, started saying something and sudddenly caught herself, looked around like a deer caught in headlights, stammered and said, "I mean..." and quickly ended her visit. Her incomplete statement indicated guilty knowledge of some sort. We will never know if Texas executed the wrong person or not.

PS: you're right about poor legal ounsel. $50,000.00 retainer, for starters. No way we could afford that. The court appointed lawyer had never defended a capital case before and during summation stammered, fumbled wildly through a sheaf of papers in his hand, ran back to the table and pawed through more papers, all the while babbling and stammering like a crazed thing. He was a nice and earnest young man but was unqualified and inexperienced and everyone was embarrassed for him, even my grandson; even though it was his life on the line he felt sorry for the attorney!!

I have to say that all the death row guards that knew him during the decade-plus time he was there liked him and told us he didn't belong there, he was not a killer. And those guards are very savvy about the criminals they interact with every day. They are not easily fooled.

It seems a letter from the President of Iran is on the way to President Bush (via the always useful Swiss). The contents have not yet been revealed, but this could be fun. Here's one version - others welcome:




Dear President Bush (AKA Satan):

You and I are so much alike. We both believe we're right all the time and don't care what anyone else thinks. We both believe in a God with strict rules and dream of the day we can force them on every human being (especially women). We love nuclear weapons and are sure God wants us to use them. We're willing to spend all our nation's money on war and power. We love oil like you wouldn't believe. Why can't we be friends? Imagine what we could do together!

Your new friend,

President Ahmadinejah (AKA Cranky)


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This is my newspaper column for next week - feedback always welcome...


I got my first two-wheeler when I was five years old and living in France. I learned to ride it within days. It was a birthday gift, and at the same party I was also given a home-sewn Superman costume (red silk panties included). It shouldn’t take much imagination to picture a little boy pedaling like mad down the road on a tiny bicycle – throwing frequent glances over his shoulder to see if the red cape was billowing out behind. I was the (very little) man of steel. I was flying.

I don’t remember much about the crash. I was racing along behind the neighborhood meat delivery truck when the driver chose to stop and, for some reason, I chose to keep pedaling. My next memory is of speeding in a car to the hospital, with bloody towels wrapped around my head. My mother was comforting me, as she did her best to stifle her own panic. If you would like, I can show you my scar. (Don’t show this article to my mother; she still feels guilty.)

If my story doesn’t convince you to ensure your young children are bicycle-safe, perhaps this information will. Biking is the most popular outdoor activity amongst youngsters in Canada. Nine of out ten children aged 10 to 14 are bicyclists. Sadly, over 50,000 of them are seriously injured in bike mishaps each year. Injuries to those precious little heads account for 75% of all deaths from bike injuries. The majority of these kids are injured within six blocks of home.

A bicycle is not a toy. It’s a child’s first vehicle. You can prepare children to be safer cyclists by helping them practice safe riding skills and teaching them about safety equipment and the rules of the road. Once you’ve checked that the bike is the right size, and properly fitted a certified helmet on the child’s head (CSA, ASTM or SNELL safety standard in BC), supervised practice is the best way to teach riding skills. The safest place to learn to balance and steer a bike is away from the road, in a vacant parking lot for example.

ICBC has a cycling education program designed to teach kids aged 7 to 13 the basics of bike riding. Bike Smarts: A Handbook helps teachers, youth leaders and cycling instructors to improve the knowledge, skills and attitudes of children in the safe handing of a bicycle. It can be found online at http://www.icbc.com/youth/roadsense_kids.asp or by phoning ICBC.

Of course, safe cycling is not just for children. Have you ever seen a happy family pedaling in a line along the road – kids with big smiles on their faces and helmets on their heads, while the helmet-free parents let their own hair blow in the wind?

Perhaps those adults need to know that a fall on an unprotected head from a height of only 60 centimeters (2 feet) can cause permanent brain damage. I might question these parents’ judgment and understanding of the concept of a role model, but I don’t believe they really want to risk brain injury and the seizures, intellectual and memory impairment and personality changes that may result.

As for me, I did get back on my little bicycle and have avoided further serious cycling injuries for about fifty years now. I have no idea where the Superman costume is today, but still have dreams of flying to the rescue (faster than a speeding bullet).

The subject of Picasso's painting below was his friend, model and muse Dora Maar. She was a successful artist herself - wonderful photographer (particularly in the 1930s).

This is Picasso's portrait of his most famous lover, Dora Maar. It sold at auction this week for $95.2 million (story). That's a lot of money for a painting that was obviously painted after a night of heavy drinking, while standing on a moving boat, looking into a mirror.

Just kidding of course, but not about the outrageous amount of money. Did you buy it DA?











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Our little dog Sasha died last night. He was a 16 year old Chihuahua and in spite of being blind, deaf, mostly mute and rather wobbly - he brought joy to us and pulled compassion out of those who met him (including lots of teenagers).

In the past couple of weeks, he stopped eating, then walking, then drinking water - and finally stopped wagging his tail. Two nights ago we gave him a warm bath; last night we put him to bed and this morning he was dead. He seems to have gone in his sleep - he hadn't moved.

The photo is from some months ago.

Here's to doggies everywhere... and the love they bring.

This is a powerful song to listen to. Maybe we'll find music is the road into the hearts and minds of young people...to make them angry and sad and want to work for change.

Maybe it will move them to the streets and to the ballot boxes.

Viva youth!

Thanks to the witty, insightful (and ready with a ruler) Auntie Willow for directing me to this link.
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It's spring in our BC mountain valley, but the flowers aren't here yet. I'm envious of the sunny places, where flowers are year round. Here's a photo from La Manzanilla, the Mexican village I visited in February. Pardon the rush hour on the main street...

The Amnesty AGM in Portland was inspiring. When 900 people get together who have one thing in common - their dedication to a world that promotes, supports and fights for human rights, for everyone - it can be busy... and moving. In addition to the work of the meeting (resolutions and all), there were some very inspiring events.

We held a rally in Pionner Square (photo of square left) to oppose torture (and extraordinary rendition). The plastic orange ponchos worn were symbolic of the prisoners in Guantanamo Bay... and with the hot sunny day, they were pretty sticky inside. The speakers included a woman who was a torture victim herself... and who lost her husband, her father and two daughters to disappearance (in Guatamala). We also heard from a Portland doctor who supports 1700 patients who have been torture victims and from a woman who is an expert on the illegal mystery flights the US is using when they illegally detain, and then transfer prisoners to countries where they can be interogated in a way that's ... well, torture. We made a lot of noise.

Actress Mira Sorvino may be famous for her role in Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion (and other movies), but she's also a Harvard grad and an amazing humanitarian. As spokesperson for Amnesty's campaign to stop violence against women, she hosted a MAKE SOME NOISE FOR DARFUR concert in Portland (she's 8 months pregnant too). Along with lots of noise, petitions, letters etc. we had a great evening of music, including Suzanne Vega and acoustic sets from Collective Soul, Tom Morelos (of Audioslave) and Incubus. Okay, those of you my age probably only know Suzanne, but Lauren, Vee and other younger bloggers might have even wanted to be there! (Correct me anyone.)

Anyhow, back to work , family, community and watching NHL hockey playoffs (Go Edmonton!).