Power of Seeds

 

The Seed that Grows Us

An acquaintance of mine was at Rideau Hall this week to attend the official welcoming of our King, King Charles III and Queen Camilla, to Canada. He posted a beautiful photo of the group but, something else caught my attention.

Rideau Hall is the official residence of our Governor General. Our Governor General is Mary Simon, an indigenous woman who has adorned the walls of her new home with a lot of indigenous art. My eyes focused on the seeds beneath the earth and something more bloomed from that vision. Everything starts from a seed.

Life starts from a seed — a zygote that is continually nurtured by the carrying body and prepared for entry into our world. From there the mother takes the reigns and makes choices. The family gets involved and society gets involved, and then the maturing seed develops as a reflection of that upbringing. 

Similarly, our fruits and vegetables start from a seed. Their success depends on the quality of the soil, rays from the sun, as well as rain and watering. Nurturing (loving, caring, feeding) is the best fertilizer and key to the success of the crops. Wise choices render successful outcomes from which we all benefit. 

But something we all too often ignore or forget, is the importance of the role of extraterrestrial or celestial energy from SkyWorld. Without those mystical sources, humans, animals and vegetation would not be here.

So in this work of art by Canadian Métis visual artist Christi Belcourt, entitled Honouring My Spirit Helpers, she beautifully captures the lifespan of a seed, the circle of life having a beginning and an end, and a whole lot in between. The seed is planted and roots itself steadfastly and determined, underground, taking its place in the Earth, growing and branching out. It remains rooted with strength and confidence, mainly depending on external forces to radiate honour and respect to help it maximize its potential and value. 

But, the seed also equally depends on all of humanity understanding and embracing the cycle, like a partnership, and that part is all too often overlooked or overpowered.

Since forever there have always been individuals and groups raising the flag of concern about humanity taking the Earth and Nature for granted, being powered by multinationals, greed and indifference. We now hear a lot about human caused climate change, greenhouse gas emissions, pollution, irrational decision making, and governments are finally stepping on board to help turn things around for the sake of our planet and the well being of future generations. 

But governments are not the only drivers of this mission to get back to the roots of the problems before us. Small groups of genuinely concerned people have been holding that flag for decades during our lifetime. Their collective consensus is that everything in Nature is a symbol of strength, but dependent on love, respect and honour from all of us. They’ve often been dismissed as fringe loonies, sometimes placated in small ways by governments and businesses; but, the tide is now turning because as the earth ages,  so much has gone wrong. The fringe is in vogue. Government, businesses and other people are starting to listen.

That message and this beautiful vision by Christi Belcourt is a captivating story from which we can all benefit.

Now is the time to plant actual and metaphorical seeds, nurture those seeds, value, honour and respect them, and work together to save our ailing Earth, in order to shape a new thriving, living world — before it’s too late! 

Everything starts from a seed.

#letloverule #plantatree #thepeacemovement #earthwatch 

DISCOVERING WAFFLES

 

Waffling

I went on a bit of a séjours recently and stayed at a Best Western Plus hotel for two nights. The cost of accommodations included a full hot breakfast. It was there where I, for the first time, used an industrial style waffle iron and made my first ever homemade waffle. I’m only 68 years old!

The four minute process was followed by a trip to the buffet table offering toppings. Surprisingly my favourite berry compoté was the feature — strawberries and whipped cream, and I loaded my plate generously. It was so very delicious, the flavours stayed in my mind all day, including during my nightly wrap-up before falling asleep. I think I dreamt of strawberries all night and woke up with a super charged morning jump out of bed, into the shower, and prepared for round two.

As I got to the buffet and prepared my table for another feast, I noticed the waffle offerings did not include strawberries. My heart frowned. « okay, » I said. « On to Plan B » But, I didn’t have a Plan B. Imagine that — me, caught off quard, no Plan B.

So, I looked at the offering. It was some kind of round berry compoté and for some reason I declared it to be cranberries.

« Hm, cranberry waffle »????

« Oh, it’s a new day. It’s good to try new things. On with it! « 

I scooped a spoon full and realised it was not cranberries,  it was blueberries! My second favourite compoté!

My frowning heart turned right side up, and my pursed lips smiled too.

This would be yet another fine day!

Moral of this story: don’t count your chickens until they are hatched. Be prepared mentally for whatever eventuality.  Be grateful there were many other options on the buffet to appease the inner need to EAT! Just waffle on …

GRIEVING

 

GRIEVING LOSSES

This past week has been an emotionally charged one for special people in my life. They have either lost a loved one (person or pet or both) or are aware of someone having lost a loved one (person or pet or both). We all know « the earthly end » is inevitable but when that « end » comes, sadness strikes and grieving takes over.  

It’s ok to be sad. It’s ok to grieve. It’s ok to have flashbacks, wishes and wants, and it’s okay to move forward to a peaceful mind on your own time. The person or pet or both would want that for you too. Your family and friends would want that for you. 

Your feeling of loss will subside with the comfort of the lasting memories of what was, and then something more will come from the experience as you continue to grow and see new growth around you. 

I say: Rest in Peace to all who have left and Rest with Peace to those they have left behind. 🌎 ☮️

ODE TO GRIEVING DOG OWNERS

FOOTPRINTS IN OUR HEARTS

I feel your saddened, grieving heart

I hear your quivering familiar voice

I see your crying, reddened eyes

as I now sniff around the other side.

I know You feel my saddened heart

I know You hear my quivering moans

I know You see my moistened eyes

I know You smell my doggie guise!

Knowing we have had a great run

Enjoying the Earth, Moon and Sun

Those pleasures remain in our hearts

The walks, the talks and alerting barks

Now our respective footprinted “paws”

Will always give our hearts applause.

Yes, I will always be resting in peace

On these clouds that feel like fleece

Yes, You gave me a most wonderful life

Filled with love and laughter and light.

Yes, being your pet has been my grace

as I now rest in this — my heavenly space.

I am happily at peace and feeling just fine

Knowing this poem is both yours and mine.

Antoinetta DeWit 

May 2025

FLUSHING OUT PUBLIC WASHROOMS

 

 

MultiUse Public Washrooms

Awhile back I remember the suggestion of a significantly new concept: no more segregated (gender-specific) public washrooms. There was an expected sudden uproar from the familiar segment of society that will not embrace change. Their instant reaction to anything new or different is always negative, and this was no exception. 

I, being me, do not jump onto those bandwagons. I stop, think, discuss, listen, experience, and then decide.

The subject popped up again on a Facebook posting from a dad speaking at a Council meeting, outraged about the plan to eliminate segregated public washrooms. From his rage I knew he had not engaged in any non biased discussion about the proposal nor had he any clear concept of what a non segregated human waste disposal room would look like. 

Of course if one’s mind can only imagine that room being open concept with urinals and standard toilets in the same open area, I can understand the rage or concern. Watching a man use an urinal or watching a woman insert or pull out a tampon seems outrageous and perhaps even a breach of human rights! Understandably non-visionaries would loudly and instantly react negatively. Visionaries would react that way also, perhaps not loudly but with some skepticism if that was the case. But, one difference — visionaries would reserve judgment.

I have to admit to some skepticism about this at first; but, as usual, I patiently awaited an opportunity to actually see and experience this new concept first hand.

One such experience was at a coffee shop where there were two single use washrooms. In other words, each room had one toilet and one sink. Usage was for the first in line. Very logical. We have the same rule in our domiciles.

My second experience was at the Burnaby Art Gallery where the public washroom area is semi open concept. The wide open entry to the large open space has no doors. The sinks, soap dispensers and dryers are visible to the open entry corridor, and across the floor are toilet stalls with floor to ceiling solid walls and a lockable floor to ceiling door. It could not be more comfortable and pleasant. I have since heard most universities use this HUB model, and other examples are evident in public buildings across the world.

As is true with anything new or different, a change in public policy is difficult for some more than others. Experts in security have likely been or will be involved in designing or redesigning public washroom spaces. I do have full confidence that safety and privacy is, and will forever be, job one in the work ahead.

My suggestion to the leery is to personally check out the gender neutral public washroom concept. Give it a try. You might surprise yourself and wonder what took us so long to get here!

Humming-bird

 

🅗🅤🅜🅜🅘🅝🅖-🅑🅘🅡🅓

As I sit pondering about life, I see a familiar visitor fluttering outside my living room window. By now it knows it is a window, not a door, but it keeps coming back. I am now thinking it’s a messenger, sent to me with a spiritual purpose and, up to now, I had not been listening.

When I stop and think about the hummingbird, I wonder how it got its name.  I know the act of humming, when executed by humans, is often a subliminal sign of intervention — either to quietly interrupt a conversation as a warning of some sort or a way to indicate no desire to listen. I can now feel both interpretations as the humming-bird is still out there hovering and fluttering trying to tell me a few things I need to hear. I decide it is time to listen.

It causes me to remember an Indigenous elder telling me a story about the hummingbird. At the time my mind was too busy to get into the zone of such abstract thinking; but, he said something about the legend of a Raven transforming a flower into a hummingbird. He gave the hummingbird a message to take to all the flowers, which is why we see them darting quickly from flower to flower and whispering a message of thanks to each flower for its beauty and making our world a better place. 

Remembering this story now and connecting the flower legend to a human metaphor, I am believing the hummingbird was sent here with a purpose. Its humming, beauty and fighting spirit motivates me to do some digging. I see it has now flown away to give me some space to think.

I decide to use the time to research more about the role of the hummingbird in indigenous cultures and legends. In "The Healer Between Heartbeats" they say the hummingbird came from the breath between worlds — too fast to be caught, too gentle to be feared.

Her wings do not fight the wind — they weave through it, stitching together what was torn by time.

Hummingbirds are masters of the small bird world. They are the only birds that can fly both forward and backwards. They can also hover in mid-air, fly sideways and even upside-down. Amazing. Unique. Beautiful.

The elders also believe these special birds carry the voices of those who left too soon. Not to speak for them, but to remind us: love never actually leaves us, it just changes shape and sometimes we need to welcome it differently.

We have all noticed that when a hummingbird visits, she doesn’t stay long. Healing never does. She’s in a hurry to move on after giving us a start — both as in surprise and as in ending something before quickly moving on. A jolt of encouragement to ‘grow’ perhaps?

“Chop chop, keep breathing, keep moving, life’s too short to stop or stall.”  

This is her lightly touching message, softly whispering without bruising, like a peck on the cheek or hand on your shoulder, always helping the flowers grow and saying you are not in this alone, but you have a role to play.

I love the soft, gentle humming of the hummingbird. It’s encouraging, enlightening, jolting, motivating… she links or bridges one heart to another, one delicate moment or frustration to another, like an omen or messenger, saying think fast, forward, back and sideways, upside down and upright, look in, take note and then quickly move forward or move on. 

“ Do not fight the wind, weave through it. You’ve got this!” and off she flies again from “flower to flower”, proudly being the healer between heartbeats.