Orphaned Baby Moose
(Oct 1999)

Whew! Finally a few hours to stop getting things done and get typing. Life has been feeling very full this past month but every night before falling asleep I say why I am grateful … it’s my form of prayers to the universe. Besides my usual job of making soup and cookies for the Juicy Carrot, occasionally attending to my store the Rainbow Connection and publishing ISSUES Magazine, this month I also organized the Wise Woman Weekend and helped my carpenter do some renovations and canned pickles, tomatoes and peaches. Teaching yoga classes two nights a week helped me slow down just a touch but it was busier than I liked. I am grateful that Jan and Marcel were able to keep up with the ad info and phone calls as the deadline for ISSUES happened at the same time as the WWW event.

I am grateful that Nywyn, Samarpan, Laurel Burnham, Lynn Work and Christina Goddard were able to help out before and during the weekend. I am grateful that I have the energy to keep up with my willpower. My heartfelt thanks to all the women who expressed their appreciation for my organizing skills and efforts to make the weekend special, for it is my deep desire to make this world just a little better place to live, and it does my soul good to feel appreciated.

And to those women who felt I wasn’t taking good care of myself because I looked tired, that is true; I was feeling tired, for I am not a late-night person and when my day starts at six am and I work past my bedtime, the next day I can feel my energy sag. But if I get half-an-hour off to rest, I can feel my energy surge again. I don’t worry and I take each moment as it comes. I do not use coffee, chocolate or cigarettes to get myself moving any time of the day, so if I look tired it is because I am, and I will get over it quickly. I am grateful for all the organic growers who supply me with quality food that sustains my high level of energy and helps rebuild my blood and bones.

My last column drew many responses from my readers and family. It always amazes me what each person focuses on. My ex-husband was on my doorstep the morning after ISSUES was distributed. It surprised me, since he had told me he couldn’t bother taking the time to find a copy of ISSUES, let alone read it. He requested that I do not keep repeating the story of how I got pregnant before I got married. I asked, “Why not?” adding that twice in ten years is not always. He said, “Because you are hurting our son, Gordon.” I asked, “How I am hurting him? The boys know what happened.” When they were sixteen or seventeen and started dating, I talked with them about the hard work and frustration that I felt being a teenage Mom. I continued, “If Gordon has a problem with my column he will talk to me about it and share his feelings. Now, if you are feeling hurt or are having a problem with my column then we have something to discuss.” His neck stiffened as he lifted his chin into the air and said, “There is nothing you can print that can hurt me.” I replied “Then I guess we have nothing to talk about, unless you want to discuss the pain you are holding in your body.” He denied the pain as he used the chair to lift himself upwards and shake the stiffness out of his hips.

It is sad that he does not see the connection and refuses to discuss his feelings or his pain. I thank all of you who made comments about my courage to write about my feelings as I progress on my healing journey. My condolences to the anonymous person who wrote and said, “I pray your children don’t read this article.” I am delighted with how my boys turned out, for looking back I was a Wise Woman even as a teenager. I am grateful they never got a girl pregnant and I feel that talking about it to them helped prevent it. I am delighted to say that all three of my boys can cook, do laundry and have enough self-esteem to take their time finding the right mate.

My oldest boy Gordon showed up several days after Rae was here and I could feel his distress about my column. His wife Britta, he and I had a good long chat, for they were upset with the fact that I didn’t feel like I was part of the family reunion. They had worked hard to get everyone together and wanted me to feel like I was part of it. They wanted to know what it would take for me to come to another family gathering and I said, “Sharing a vegetarian meal where we take time to give thanks and enjoy. I would prefer to get out in nature and go hiking or horseback riding.” Time will tell how all this goes but they seem determined. When Britta said, “We want you to be part of our lives.” I cried, for I don’t ever remember anyone ever saying that to me. After they left and now as I type, I can feel tears welling up which tells me this is a Big Issue for me.

Reviewing all that I do to create community in my life, I can see the reflection of my need and how deep it is. My emotional counsellor Ken and I are making slow progress as to why I feel like an alien on this planet but the layers are deep and full of tears, and the voice of knowingness has not made itself clear. I do this work and take the time to type for I believe that as I heal myself it resonates outward and will make it easier for others to do the same. Many thanks to those who resonate with my beliefs for a more compassionate world where we don’t factory -farm animals so that rich North Americans can eat beef and destroy the rainforests. Where we are in touch with our feelings and can speak our truths and be honoured for our outspokenness, for the world is not fair. I believe there is enough for all, whether it be food, freedom or housing. We musn’t allow the corporate and government systems to brainwash us into the fear of scarcity. We are creative humans, full of potential, and we have the resources if we want to change the system. I for one am willing to put my heart, soul and most of my waking day into making this a reality.

As for the front cover, I choose it because I was thinking of hunting season coming up. This young moose was found hours after someone killed the mother. When I showed it to Jan, she said this photo is more of a spring picture because that is when wild animals have their babies. And then I remembered Grandad’s voice, cursing the poachers for shooting out of season. This photo is of my Mom honouring the process of life, hours after the birth of a baby moose. We bottle fed it until the game warden arrived and I don’t remember hearing what happened after that. I am grateful to have lived in the wilderness and learned to work hard, and I give thanks for my good health and the wisdom to take care of my body. Now if I could just slow down.