My parents were caretakers for a group of cottages on three secluded lakes in Northern Ontario. It is an area of 2500 acres with only 7 cottages, plus our family “sugar shack,” where we made maple syrup. It is pristine and still remains this way. I grew up on these lakes . . .
Blaise Pascal, the French mathematician, physicist, and religious philosopher in the 1600’s wrote, “Humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.”
Well, I do believe people are having more time to think and reflect in these days. It certainly is true for myself (between Zoom meetings, I would add) and I am grateful for this.
In the middle of the Vatican, there is a hall called, “The Vatican Hall of Tapestries”. The artist is Raffaello Sanzio who was in charge of the drawings, which he sent to Brussels to be transformed into huge tapestries. It was first opened to the public on December 26, 1519. I walked slowly down the hall, mesmerized that someone could produce these masterpieces.
A tv commentator said this past week, "The mission is to conquer Covid." The word conquer is the same word as Jesus used in Revelation 2:17. Some translate it “overcome”.
Dr. Roger Birkman would often make this statement:
“The reality of life is that your perceptions—right or wrong—influence everything you do. When you get a proper perspective of your perceptions, you may be surprised how many other things fall into place.”
I do not know about you, however, this isolation thing gives me time for reflection, thinking, and processing; perhaps, more than I need, to be quite honest. Memory is a way of holding on to the things we love, who we are, and what we do not want to lose or forget.
In times like these it is challenging to have our needs met, which results in stress. You see it in the way people interact at the store so clearly. It is important to reframe our thoughts and focus on what we need to stay out of stress.
I believe we all have three similar needs.
As we go into this Christmas season, I want leave you with a story. At this time of year, I always picture the face of Percy and recall it once again. Late December in Northern Ontario is traditionally cold and snowy. With a bag full of groceries, my father and I would trudge through the snow . . .
