A Tale of Hospital Spirits

Hospital Hall

When I think of hospitals, I usually think of broken bones or mild concussions, ice skating accidents and bumps from falls of a bicycle. Most of the time, the hospital is where we go to get fixed up. But hospitals are strange places, where death is just as familiar as life, and no matter how hard the doctors and nurses fight, sometimes a life just slips away.The small town hospital where my mother went for a scheduled surgery last week is a busy and bustling place during the weekdays. It's … [Read more...]

The Crossroads of Memory

220px-Eight-spoked_wheel.svg

Memory is a great crossroads, an always-in-between.  Step here and you're elsewhere, turn instead and another world opens before you. Walk back and you're there again, all paths before you, trod by someone who used to be you.You can walk those paths to meet you, but you're not him who was there.  You're later, you're another, treading trails another-you marked out for later.  Remember this, he might have thought, and the other him, who is you, tries to collect what was scattered. Re … [Read more...]

De-Colonizing Ourselves So We Can Help Others

A white woman flies over the American West, white settlers following her, Native Americans fleeing in front.

Today I read an article that made me steaming mad. It was predictable that it would upset me. My co-worker shared it with me telling me how much it angered her. Of course, I had to look. The article was all about how we need to stop encouraging people in less developed countries to be entrepreneurs and teach them instead to be factory workers. Because profit. The argument was that entrepreneurs in developing countries aren't going to make that much money if they just serve the other poor people … [Read more...]

When the heather blooms: the end of summer

Heather (Calluna vulgaris) by John Haslam

August is a difficult month for me. I can't write about it while it's happening. It's still summer, but the tang of autumn starts to flavour the air. The sun's power wanes, the days get shorter, even as its rays are still warm and feel strong.I love spring; I love summer; I love autumn; I love winter. But the liminal times between them, the transitional times -- April, August, November, February -- create a disturbing, confusing experience for me.Partly, that's due to the effects of S … [Read more...]

Where They May Be Found: The Dead

schedel

We die with the dying:See, they depart, and we go with them.We are born with the dead:See, they return, and bring us with them.--T.S. Eliot, Little GiddingOn the Streets of Cities They Once Walked"You guys mind if I pour some to dead?" he asked.  A stranger. Homeless, on the stoop of a church.His friend's aren't having it.  It's a waste of beer.  We're passers-by, lost in conversation.  But I'm no longer surprised by this stuff."Hey--you guys don't mind, right?"We turn.  I s … [Read more...]

Missing The Forest

Sacred Heart

I found home.At least for now.  You never quite know how things go.  Love, calamity, poverty, gentrification, fires, earthquakes...things fall apart quicker than you can ever guess.  A policeman could shoot an unarmed kid and the whole town erupts in riot because they do this all the time and they've finally had enough, and maybe the place you live gets teargassed and you have to leave.  Or maybe you could be the kid, and then you really end up having to leave, even though you'll stick aro … [Read more...]


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