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PONDERING POETRY

 



PONDERING POETRY


I came home from a brunch social with friends the other day, to a lovely heartfelt landline phone message from a long time friend, expressing her heartfelt appreciation of a collection of poetry I put together recently. She was the first person to receive a copy and, up to now, the only person. I listened to her message twice, once standing up and the next sitting down. My heart was definitely smiling and eyes watery. Of all people in my life whom I felt would truly read, understand and react honestly, she did not disappoint.


I have always loved creating poems to express feelings, observations and predictions. Sometimes my thoughts are abstract, my ideas peculiar, my dreams over the top but, whatever the reason, my mind loves to select one idea, create a theme, purpose, rhythm and, most often, some kind of rhyme. Not all poems need rhythm or rhyme, but all of them have reason.


Poetry has always been a difficult subject for school teachers to teach and the ones I had tended to keep that Unit to the end of the school year, when time was running out and excitement of school ending was at the forefront of students’ minds. Understandably, today, it is tough to find people of my generation who know how to approach poetry, understand it or appreciate it.


So, a few months ago, I took a big dusty binder off my bookshelf. It was full of plastic sheets in which I had stored hundreds of poems. I reread them and decided it was time to do something more with them; but, not before taking one additional step back — energizing awareness about the power of poetry.


Although the poetry curriculum may have been an after thought for teachers, and dull and boring, complicated and cerebrally stressful for students, 😥, — and difficult for either to place its value in everyday life — we were very young back then and really not ready to approach it with an open mind. We had too many other things on our minds during puberty and relationship building.


As a young adult, I secretly took a liking to things that were generally not popular: French/English bilingualism, Pierre Elliot Trudeau, politics, refinishing wood furniture, liverworst, sardines, Margaret Atwood and creative writing.  


Everyone who knows me knows Canadian author and poet, Margaret Atwood, is a leader in Canadian literature, and her prose and poetry thrive on the unusual in terms of style and content. Many in my circles cast her work aside as too weird and too odd. I label that human reaction as being neurologically stressed, and walking away from a challenge. A cop-out. After all, look at her pedigree now!


Finally in the 21st century, people of all walks of life, all ages, all creeds, are taking note and realizing Margaret is a voice worth noting. More brains are opening up to having challenging cognitive experiences and enjoying thinking beyond simple and obvious, branching out into the more complex and realizing there is more to poetry than just words on paper that sometimes rhyme, sometimes have rhythm, but always have interesting and intriguing messages to ponder and discuss.


I know poetry will never be a best seller, but just the idea of getting more people to give themselves a challenging cerebral exercise, now and then, away from gadgets, devices and media, just seems like good self-help medicine, a good diversion, a good breathe in and breathe out exercise, and a great medium of expression, interpretation and genius!

REDEFINING PRIME

 


Merrily Prime


It was a prime night in Pitt Meadows. 


It all started after I asked Carol if she’d like to enjoy the Prime Rib dinner special at the local golf course dining room Saturday evening. She said yes and I said perhaps some of the other aquafitters would like to join us. 


We asked a few. They were very delighted to be asked and some said yes. We stopped at six because six is a prime (not in math lingo) number for easy table conversation that can include everyone. 


Prime suggestion, prime people, prime rib and, best of all — prime topics of conversation; nobody talked about their adult children, grandchildren or partners. No politics. No religion. No gossip. The focus was travel talk, childhood memories, cultural customs, India, Sri Lanka, Scotland, Aruba, languages and how much we thoroughly enjoyed our gathering.


I generally don’t suggest high end restaurants to casual acquaintances because I don’t know their financial circumstances. But, this time, I boldly went to where I had never been (as in ask and see what happens) — I asked and the people came. 


We six, perhaps arguably a little beyond the prime of our lives, had a purely prime evening of great company, conversation, service and food. We all sound keen to keep this ball rolling, perhaps redefining “prime years” …and that in and of itself is merrily prime!





WALKING ALONG

 



WALKING ON


I went for an autumn walk the other day to take photos of leaves transitioning to release from their shoots and fall to the ground, so the bare branches can rest and prepare for winter, before restarting the process of re-creating growth for the year ahead. It was a glorious sight of shades of yellows, oranges, greens and reds.


This particular morning I decided to wear casual loafers instead of  sneakers. There was no rhyme nor reason— it just felt like time to bring out some different footwear. Turns out the footwear I chose was a pair of black leather loafers that I am sure I have had, and worn every year in Autumn and Winter, for the past forty years.


I can remember buying the shoes at the bargain rack of a store called Naturalisers. Size 8.5 (41 in European sizes) and half off the last marked price! I loved deals then and I still love deals now!


The store was located in a small strip mall in the Municipality of Burnaby, and I would have taken the Willingdon bus there on a Saturday. That Mall, formerly called Brentwood Mall, is still there but nobody from back then would even recognize it now. It’s become a huge monstrosity of cement and steal, angles and curves, with underground parking and high rise towers, spread out over acres of demolished repossessed homes. It’s packed with oddly named stores and almost nothing remains of its beginnings. It’s quite sad to see my memories being overshadowed by change. 


All I have left to remember that Mall are these shoes. They are black leather and despite walking in rain, sun and sleet, year after year,  they continue to comfort my feet, keep them dry and cozy, and remind me that I really did get a deal that has lasted a lifetime, with still more time to prance around.  They have even walked the many streets of Manhattan and The Netherlands, where they actually encountered snow, ice and rain, in both places, and survived.


From the photo you can see my black leather shoes still look great, despite the frayed tips of the laces and a bit of wear around the toes. The designer clearly loved designing quality shoes. I loved finding the bargain and especially love not feeling the need to pass them on or discard them. They have many stories to tell. They are mine for life!


I enjoy remembering and sharing fun stories like this, and at this spot in my timeline, I am sure no new shoe purchase will ever experience such an  honour.


I’m already looking forward to my next walk.

The Power of the Rainbow

                                                              



                                                    The Rainbow Arc


After the thunder and after the storm

Stand quietly and look up —

A beautiful rainbow is often born.


Born of the power of sky Qi (chee)

Linking high drizzle with solar sizzle

Creating an arc of wonder and awe.


It’s a time to sing, a time to dance

A sign to think and take a chance

To reenergize the you in you!


Yes the colours in you need you too

A jolt, a start will energize your heart

And you will feel your rainbow arc.


Antoinetta DeWit

October 2024

FAREWELL TON ANDERSON

 REMEMBERING TON


As I sit here in the comfort of my own home, I am reflecting on some very sad news about the recent passing of one of my cousins, Ton Anderson. His last residence was in Schiedam,     but I last spent time with him in Maasluis, in the province of South Holland in The Netherlands.


After typing that line, my mind flashed back to my time with him about a decade ago. The iconic image is my climbing twenty five stairs from street level to the platform leading to his front door. There he would be sitting in his favourite cozy chair, smoking, while observing the comings and goings of the people in his neighbourhood. He knew everyone and was kind to everyone. Always smiling and happy to engage. Everyone enjoyed interacting with him.


Ton loved Canada and visited us a few times. He praised Canadians to the hilt and yearned to spend as much time with his Canadianized relatives as possible. When we visited him, he always had a robust itinerary planned. He excitedly brought us to key locations like DeHook, a Rock n Roll Museum, and he arranged Motocross biking, bike rentals, and other excursions.


He truly was a lovely guy, a loving and caring person — and that is how I will remember him. He was enthusiastic and eager, appreciative and  admirable but, in the end, his mental and physical health let him down — that is what is so very sad.


Rest in Peace Ton! You shine in the minds of all who loved you. Your spirit is now up in SkyWorld and I will feel it whenever I look up! 🙌 








ON THIS HARVEST MOON,

 FULL MOON RISING




TONIGHT’s the night to look up high
A full white moon will light our sky

Our Shifu will drum and sing her song

Pure devotion keeps us strong.

Life is full of mystery and doubt

Tonight’s a good night to let it out!

Sitting around the Medicine Wheel

While the magic of moonlight reveals

Our every thought and our every cry,

We raise our arms very high.

Our own two hands connect as one

Next will come a new rising sun.

A fresh new start to a full new day

A refreshened heart will show the way.


Antoinetta DeWit

September 17, 2024

MAPLE RIDGE 150





It is not typical for Tulip to go out cycling on a dismal weather day, but this was no ordinary day. When she thinks about that she realizes that no one day seems to be typical or ordinary. Every day is unique and can be as special as you would like it to be. It is in that frame of mind that she dressed warmly and brightly, pulled her bicycle from the garage and made the eight kilometer journey to downtown Maple Ridge.


This day was the biggest and most intensely planned celebration of the City of Maple Ridge: her 150th year as a proud, growing community in the Fraser Valley region of British Columbia Canada. 


The organizers, participants and sponsors created a plethora activities, events, displays, performances and flashback memories of how things started and evolved. From significant forestry hub and bedroom community, from village, to town, to district to city, Maple Ridge has grown and changed. Tulip and her sidekick have lived through much of it and they remain proud and comfortable in the same home, in the same peaceful setting — nicely paired with a protected tiny backyard forest. It’s been nearly 35 years and counting.


As she arrived at 224th and Dewdney Trunk Road, sort of the entrance to downtown, drenched, she happily flipped her wet leg over the back of her bicycle, took off her helmet, swung it over the handlebars, took a swig of lemon water from her water bottle, shook the raindrops from her waterproof jacket, and started her journey into the celebration.


Despite the dismal weather tethering on drizzle and sometimes more, the streets were filled with people of all ages, all walks of life, all cultural backgrounds, wandering happily from tent to tent, table to table, busker to busker, stage to stage.


Tulip checked her bicycle at the HUB Cycling Valet station and followed the path to the main stage all ready for the big name entertainment later in the programme. She stopped at all the various entrepreneurs’ tents along a snake-like stretch, expressing  curiosity about their trades and creations, but also to get some shelter from the rain. 


Along the way various merchants had spinning wheels from which spinners could win prizes. Everyone loves a surprize. Everyone loves a prize. Tulip spinned a few and gathered pencils, a souvenir Maple Ridge Anniversary mug, water bottle, and colouring book pages for the younglings. She stopped in at the More Than Just Pajamas booth because a 50% off sign caught her eye.  There she found a beautiful garment: cotton, handmade and almost Galactic with Northern Lights colours, calling out her name. Instantly she knew it was meant to be and happily paid the price. It included an environmentally friendly fabric bag in which she would be able to carry a lot of the swag.


This celebration was filled with joyful, friendly local and non-local people. It gave them affirmation that Maple Ridge is a happening place — a place where people from far and wide, have settled, raised families, started businesses, enjoyed fresh air, nature, wildlife, recreation, sports and so much more. 


As Tulip prepared to leave the event, she stood back at the main stage area to reflect. From Agriculture to  Industry, Education to Entrepreneurship, Commerce to Economic Development, and Indoor and Outdoor Recreation to Entertainment — all of this defines Maple Ridge; all of this gives the community substance, energy and spirit. The City is ready to continue to build on the efforts and successes of the past, retaining the reputation of being a snug community slowly striving to move thoughtfully further forward, embracing its progressive history and impressive present, while being ready for a future that doesn’t leave it behind.  


As she heads toward the Bicycle Valet, Tulip stops to the scent of Vietnamese Spring Rolls — 3 for $10 and a perfect snack to end a perfect refreshing, pride-filled Autumn outing. She sits under a tent nearby and jots down some notes. Her community  is a growing and modernizing place. It is surrounded by Nature, creativity, innovation, and the right kind of “across the spectrum” leadership to recognize, respect and value what the community-involved decision making, including the wisdom and input of the Katsie First Nation and Kwantlen First Nation upon whose unceded land the City sits, has accomplished over the past 150 years. 


Over the 30+ years that she has lived in Maple Ridge, Tulip realizes that subtle and sometimes bold changes brought the City to this point. Some people liked it while it was unfolding and others didn’t.  Steady, subtle and other bold changes will likely come into play continuously — some will like this and others won’t. That seems to be the way the world unfolds! 


As she munches down the last bite of the third spring roll and wipes her mouth clean, she writes one last note for the City Council’s Debating Guidelines: BOLD DECISION MAKING — let the spirit and essence of “community and Nature” always be paired with community growth decision making for the years ahead.


With that she picks up her bicycle, and happily rides along well-marked bicycle lanes. She makes her way home safely, smiling about yet another wonderful atypical and far from ordinary day in her coveted hometown of Maple Ridge, British Columbia, Canada. #cityofmapleridge City of Maple Ridge


RAISE ME UP




 JUST LIKE SPIRITS IN THE SKY


Someone planted a seed in my thoughts today and it made me think of some of the lyrics in a song sung by many but none other as great as Josh Groban, entitled You Raise Me Up.


The suggestion was strong enough to get me off the cozy couch and out on my bicycle, with Tulip on my shoulder, and a creative writing idea on my mind.


We had not quite gone a kilomètre when I felt the need to stop, park the bicycle, sit on the curb, pull out my notebook and pen to write:


 She raised me up so I can stand on mountains 

She raised me up to walk near stormy seas

She raised me up to sit amongst the learned

She raised me up to be the me in me.


I feel strong when amongst the stronger

I feel weak when others cannot see

I feel sure when I am with strong leaders

They give me more — more than I can see.


I closed the booklet, got back on my bicycle, called on my soulmate (song companion) Tulip (the she) and said:


“Let’s go anywhere, let’s just go. My body needs physical exercise”


We followed the city groomed cycling paths and ended up at the Pitt Meadows Airport.  We have enjoyed time there often but it had been a long while. The cycle path has been extended right into the airport parking lot and directly to the front entrance of the terminal, where they now have a bicycle parking rack with room for more than two bicycles. 


We knew the eatery inside would be open so we went in, ordered a brunch meal and sat at an outside table, overlooking the runway. It wasn’t quiet but it was sunny, and the view of incoming and outgoing planes was ideal.


As I looked up at a one engine  Cessna, Tulip reminded me of the time I flew in one of those, over the shark infested Indian Ocean. It was one of those rare daring things I do now and then, and think twice about them later. It was only after landing safely that I realized the landing strip on Rottnest Island near Perth, Australia, did not have a tower and the pilot had to depend on visual and auditory skills to land and take off safely. 😳 


Some people say we should try everything at least once: “It’s not likely I will do that trip again!” It was beautiful and scenic but, in the end, it became a case of too much information.


It does get me to wonder what might be next on the list of dare devil experiences during this lifetime.  I figure as long as Tulip and Tulip-like* people are nearby, I know I will be just fine!


Cycling back home, I sat on my front porch and penned a finalé to what I started earlier, following the same tune:


I feel stronger when they* are on my shoulder

I feel great when they* are on my side

We all team-up to climb the mighty mountains

And all team-up to deal with stormy skies

Some team-up every early morning

And some team-up every single night

We all feel strong when we’re with each other

And won’t fully leave the other’s side!



 





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