Remembering...

Tomorrow is Veteran’s Day. It is a day to honor those who have served our country. Originally it was called Armistice Day, to commemorate the end of WWI on November 11, 1918. It was called “armistice”- meaning an agreement to stop fighting rather than declaring a “winner” which occurs when one side surrenders. In 1926, Congress declared that November 11 would be a recurring anniversary of the date. After WWII and the Korean War the name was changed from Armistice to Veteran’s Day, to honor all those who served in war.

The wearing of poppies became popular as a remembrance of those lost. While the US honors those who died in service or as a result of injuries incurred in battle on Memorial Day (in May), the UK and other countries honor them through remembrances in November and in the wearing of red poppies.

The idea came from the poem written by Canadian Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae having noticed the hardy poppies emerging from the ground of the fallen soldiers in France. The poem, published during the war and read at many funerals, became one of the most popular works for art from WWI.

“In Flanders Fields” by John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

Lieutenant Colonel McCrae gave much comfort to others through his poem. One would hope that it brought him some comfort and understanding as well.

I have found it interesting that the use of art forms not only helps our veterans but also aids civilians to understand the world around us. I stumbled upon the Theater of War project. The “Theater of War Productions was co-founded in 2009 by Bryan Doerries and Phyllis Kaufman, who served as producing director from 2009 to 2016. Doerries currently serves as the company's artistic director. Since its founding in 2009, Theater of War Productions has facilitated events for more than 500,000 people, presenting over 20 tailored programs to serve diverse communities across the globe, reaching over 100 countries.”

While the above Youtube clip may be ten years old, it explains the project and how using storytelling, namely through the ancient plays helps in our understanding of humanity today.

I think back to the songwriting project I read (and wrote) about last year. All these different art forms help in making sense and processing our human experience. I guess one reason is that as we write, paint, sculpt, or sing about any experience, we can control the narrative. For a brief time, we can remove ourselves from being in the middle of the experience and perhaps view it with an arm’s length. War and its aftermath heightens all human experiences, yet what we learn from looking at it through the lens of the arts, can help us view other types of human experiences and how we treat one another.

What about you? Whether you are a veteran or not, have you ever had a song, poem, play, essay, novel, or any type of visual art speak to you? Did it help you make sense of a situation you were going through? How do you honor and/or remember those who served our country?

Tomorrow night (11/11/21) at 7:30pm EST, the University of Mississippi is having a virtual event of the Theater of War- reading of scenes from Sophocles’ Philoctetes— The event is free: Information click here.

Day 17: Words and Pictures: Live for Today

Courtesy of visitgreece.gk website.

In our neck of the woods we have been “sheltering in place” for over a month. In some ways it seems a lot longer than that. It is hard to remember a time “before”- before empty grocery shelves, decreased road traffic, public face masks, social distancing. There are certain markers that remind me when this began: the news reports on the television in my mother-in-law’s hospital room, the first Sunday of “no church”; the beginning of daily drives of a friend to the hospital for appointments and procedures and our discussions of pandemic plans.

How much of our lives are remembered by such markers? “The afternoon I broke my wrist, the day mom died, the day of the diagnosis, the night of the phone call, the morning Fido died.”

In a short amount of time, our world and its view becomes changed. Even my physical view has become very limited to what I see outside my office window, the square images of blurry faces on zoom calls, the weekly trip to the grocery store.

It wasn’t until yesterday when I was contemplating standing in a grocery store line entrance (decided the hour long wait just to enter, not even knowing if what I planned to buy was in stock, was not worth the items) that I truly realized this might be the long haul; there is no going back to the way things were.

We have been watching The Durrells of Corfu as a nightly diversion. A fun, entertaining story set on the spectacularly beautiful Greek island of Corfu, it shows the life of the eccentric English Durrell family who lived there for about five years leading up to WWII. As we watch the show unfold, there is a sadness in my heart knowing that for the real Durrells as they lived during this time, they had no idea of what would befall them or the world in the future. I want to shout at the TV, “Enjoy what you are experiencing now, because in a couple of years all hell will break loose.”

It makes me hyper aware of what is going on in this world. Will we look back at the beginning of this pandemic and think, “If only we knew how good it was during these first few months. We had no idea of what was going to hit us”? In the first week I was worried about getting the extra items from downsizing my mother-in-laws apartment to the Salvation Army store before all closures happened. Now, worrying about our son and his fiance’s health in the thick of it outside NYC is much more of a concern.

Yet for all the time markers that remind us of what was and how it used to be, there are time markers that remind of us what is possible and what might be in the future: the day a baby is born, a family member gets married, the day a job starts, the email of the school acceptance.

The thing is, there will always be a melancholy for what is missed and what was. That is not a bad thing. It is important to remember our past and the lessons learned. If we do not contemplate what happened before and its cause and effect, we are in danger of repeating the happening. But I think that there is an even sadder situation if there is a missing of the future because of the continued remembrance of the past. I have heard it explained that if we try driving a car by only looking in the rear-view mirror, we will definitely have an accident as we accelerate forward.

While we have been going through this for over a month and we may be enduring this for more months to come, I do not want to only be thinking of what could have been or things that have been missed.

Not that my broken wrist is on the scale of a pandemic, but the time since last November when I broke it, have been times of wondering- “what could’ve been, what I have missed, what I will miss because of it, if only…” As I have moved through the healing of my wrist and recognizing that things may never be exactly as they once were, I am also in a newer place because of it. I have a new friend in the once-acquaintance who helped me immensely in my physical therapy regime. The broken wrist led to other surgeries that I had been putting off but desperately needed. I have a better appreciation for those who go through physical pain. The healing time for the wrist provided me time to regroup and consider my own work and my dedication to it.

We do not know what the future brings. This pandemic has underscored that we need to hold our future plans loosely. But that doesn’t mean one needs to be fearful of the future. Sure, things can deteriorate but they can also improve. While our past molds and shapes us, it doesn’t have to cement us into a permanent segment of time.

The story of the Durrells did not end in Corfu. Yes, they endured WWII and life changed dramatically for them. Perhaps they pined for those idyllic days but they had to move on. However, the experiences from Corfu helped define their future: Gerald Durrell wrote delightful memoirs of his time there and the outdoor explorations he experienced led him to become one of the world’s first conservationists.

What about you? Do you have remembrances that are marked by certain events? How does that shape your outlook? Do you “drive your life” looking in the rear-view mirror or looking ahead? How can you enjoy today without clinging to yesterday and worrying about tomorrow?

I am reminded of Ecclesiastes 3: 11-14: “He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God.”

Day 4: Words and Pictures- Holy

This week is the beginning of Holy Week for Christians around the world. It is also the start of Passover for those of the Jewish tradition. A Holy Week for 2 of the 3 major religions

It has made me think of the word “holy”. Merriam-Webster describes holy as “worthy of complete devotion and trust 2 : DIVINE 3 : set apart to the service of God or a god : SACRED 4 : respected as sacred 5 : COMPLETE, UTTER (holy cow). The Hebrew word for holy is “godesh”: apartness, sacredness, separate while the Greek for holy is similar: “hagios”- pure, morally blameless.

Concepts about which we do not really consider in this modern culture.

But I wonder if we should think about holiness especially this week. What is worthy of our complete devotion and trust? Have you thought about it in light of our current condition? Is science worthy? Possessions? Financial security? Political parties or theories?

What I like about the van Dyck painting is the various expressions on the faces in the crowd: skepticism, awe, disbelief, compliance because everyone else is there. For me, Holy week is a time for me to think of my devotion and to whom I put complete trust. I wonder if I were there over 2,000 years ago, would I have just gone along with everyone else, placed my palm down and raised a hallelujah because everyone else was doing it, or because I truly believed?

This week is called holy and it is a week to be set apart. It is a week of reflection, remembrance and renewal. Maybe you are like me and need a week like this. Time to consider my life, my role in this world and my future. Time to consider my devotion and trust.

What about you? What do you need to remember- about your faith and beliefs? On reflection do you need more information or understanding? What can you do to renew your beliefs? What can you do this week to make it holy?

Every Day's A Great Day

Sunday will be the fifteenth anniversary of the September 11th attacks.  Do you remember where you were?  I had just come back from getting the boys on their elementary school bus.  I was straightening up the kitchen and had started running the vacuum.  The telephone rang.  It was my sister.  

"Did you see the tower? I can't believe it!"  There was no hello just disbelief on the other end.

 "What are you talking about?" I said.  

"Turn on your television."  she replied.  I went into the adjoining room and turned it on.  Didn't matter what station, the picture was the same:  An airplane careening into the side of the world trade center, smoke billowing up into the clear, blue sky.  My first thought was to do a mental check of my family members: I figured our boys were in the safest place, the school with the gold and black triangle fallout shelter image on the side.  My husband was at work in a small indistinguishable office. Unfortunately my nephew was in college in NYC. I had a couple of hours of worry but eventually heard that he was uptown and was not immediately impacted. 

As much as it was a horrific day and for those who lost loved ones, unimaginable, I still cannot help feeling a gladness in the pride of my fellow humans.  They went through such trying times, yet they rose to the occasion and did not succumb to the level of those who terrorized us.  There was such compassion, generosity, and care for one another under unbelievable conditions.  There are countless stories of people helping others. On the radio this week they have been remembering with stories from survivors. 

One survivor is Brian Clark, a retired executive vice president of Euro Bank who was working on the 84th floor of the second tower.  Once the tower was hit, the overhead speakers announced that the building was secure.  It was then that the plane exploded inside and the tower shook and moved.  Brian left his floor and with a feeling that something was pushing him towards stairway A, he descended.  Along the way he heard a stranger's voice coming from the 81st floor and stopped to remove the gentleman from the rubble.  They both escaped seconds before the building came completely down and the debris washed like a grey tsunami over the streets. 

He talks about how he doesn't spend time wondering why he did what he did; if he had taken staircase C as he had planned, he might not have made it, or his now lifelong friend wouldn't have been found in the rubble.   He says,  "I have learned, and I tell other people, that there's no point in wasting time trying to answer unanswerable questions. ... Likewise, one cannot predict the future with any certainty. I went to work that day, a normal day, had no idea what was about to happen. So if you don't dwell on unanswerable questions in the past, you don't worry about the future, it pretty well leaves you with the present, and that's where I try to live every day. Every day's a great day. Some are just greater than others."

In a way, what a gift he has been given.  To have learned to enjoy the present.  I know many people who have endured tragedy say the same thing- in the midst of horror, they have been given a gift of learning to appreciate life. Some people live their entire lives and never really enjoy it. 

Sometimes I feel that I am that way.  I replay the past and worry about the future.  I don't truly appreciate the here and now.  

What a joy to know that I don't have to stay that way.  That I can make a choice to concentrate solely on the present. Sad that it takes a major catastrophe for us to get it.  I think that Jesus speaks to the heart of this when he tells us,  "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?"  

I do find that some days it is hard to rise about the muck of the past or to move beyond the paralysis of an anxious future.  I have to go through all sorts of mental exercises.  It is hard work, but I press on. I try to think of the moment as my last moment.  I try and appreciate all the nuances of my surroundings. I try to concentrate on the person I am with. I try and recognize that some moments are more memorable than others. 

I try and embrace Brian Clark's attitude:  Every day is a great day.  Some days are just greater than others.

What about you?  As you hear the stories of 9/11 and as you reflect on your life, what is your daily attitude?  Do you replay past mistakes, hurts, grudges?  Do you worry about the future and become anxious?  How is your day going?  Is it a great or greater day? 

Building Monuments

This past week our home-from-college son and I spent the day in Washington, DC.  When the boys were little, he, his brother and I went on many adventures to DC.  I sometimes wonder how I managed- a double stroller on the metro, two small boys, and a knapsack packed with lunches, snacks and any possible emergency items? 

 When I ask them now, "do you remember going to ...?" they will say no.  So much for supplementing their educational experience with "field trips". Although I have noticed that as adults, they will go to museums on their own or arrange a group trip with their friends. Even though they might not remember visiting every Smithsonian museum, something stuck and somehow we were able instill a curiosity and sense of patronizing museums and other organizations of learning to the boys. 

For all our many visits, we never went up the Washington Monument. So, last week we did. Afterwards, my son and I had a long discussion about monuments, memorializing events or people through monuments and its significance to those who visit.  One question came up, "why don't people just visit the individual's grave?"  In some ways a monument seems to celebrate the life of the person more than a gravesite.  A monument recognizes the individual (s) achievements and service or is used to commemorate an important historical or cultural event. 

According to Wikipedia, "The origin of the word "monument" comes from the Latin moneo, monere, which means 'to remind', 'to advise' or 'to warn',[2] suggesting a monument allows us to see the past thus helping us visualize what is to come in the future.[3] "

I am reminded of Biblical stories when the Israelites wanted to remember a place where they had witnessed a miracle, they built a pile of stones type monument. It was to be a visual remembrance of God's provision.  Other times, monuments were built as a warning for the consequence of lack of faith (e.g. Lot's wife turning into a pillar of salt). 

Sometimes I think I need those visual reminders in my life.  I can get so caught up in the day to day minutiae that I forget the blessings that I have received.  I forget how God has provided for me and for my family, time and time again.  I forget to notice the daily miracles of life, breath and well-being.  

Monuments can be a testament to heed some type of warning.   Many times when something unpleasant or difficult occurs I think, "In the future, I will remember not to do such and such.."  Yet, how many times do I forget and repeat the same offence? 

Just as it is important for a society to pause and reflect on an event or person through monuments, I think as individuals we need too as well.  We need to build monuments in our life so that we can reflect on our past in order to improve our future.  They may not be physical monuments but they can be verbal stories that we pass along to our children and grandchildren. Or they can be little symbols that remind us of our blessings and warn us of our past indiscretions.  Whatever our monument might be it is designed with the thought that we want to learn and move forward in our lives.

What about you?  Have you ever visited any monuments?  What was your take-away?  Have you ever built any monuments in your life?  What would they look like?