The end of summer has brought on several inspirationals including some exciting places to visit and collect pins from as well as a Kamala/Walz lawn flag in my neighborhood which made me slightly giddy! Our yard sign should be coming next week. Our neighbor had one that I really loved so I ordered the same one.
A few of the pins already belonged to me but a few are new from the trip, from the places we visited and a couple from my family from their day at Fan Expo Canada.
What are some of the things that inspired, and continue to inspire you this summer, and as summer comes to a close?
One neighbor’s flag. I’ll share our sign when it comes. (c) 2024
I’ll let you know what the pins are in the block below. (c) 2024
I’ve been searching for the write inspiration for December, and this first night of Chanukah brought things into perspective. A little bit of perspective. While the internet and the news are filled with antisemitism and protests from people intent on gaslighting the Jewish experience and deny Jewish people the indigeneity of their homeland, I have been on a quest to celebrate Chanukah publicly. I’m a little wary about it. I live in a nice neighborhood, but I don’t put my head in the sand and think that it couldn’t happen here. I know it can.
Still….
I went out and bought blue and white lights for outside, something I’ve never done. I have an interactive menorah hanging on my front door, again, something I’ve never done. In fact, since I’ve been on my own (and with my own family) I have not put Chanukah lights in the window. That unfortunately will continue because I know that if I put candles on my windowsill, my mother would come back from the grave and blow them out with a raucous, and loud message of fire safety.
Most people don’t know the story of Chanukah; perhaps some teachers wanting to bring multiculturalism to their classrooms, and now the story of the Maccabees is being co-opted to match the narrative, anything to turn the words of Jews and their history against them. The Festival of Lights isn’t about war. It isn’t about victory. It is about faith. The miracle isn’t that the Maccabees won against their most recent oppressor. The miracle is the lights themselves. When we retook the temple, amid the destruction, they went to light the candelabra to rededicate the temple, the menorah – not the nine-branch one that most are familiar with, but the regular, ordinary menorah that is always lit in the temple. There was only enough oil to keep it lit for one night. There was no other oil. So, what did they do? They lit it anyway.
And it remained lit, not one night, not two, not three or four, not even five or six or seven, but it remained lit for eight days. One day’s oil lasted for eight days. That is the miracle. And that is why we light eight candles on a new type of menorah used just for this holiday: a hanukkiah.
Tonight, I will say the prayers (that I don’t normally say). I will fry the latkes in oil. I will fry the chicken in oil. I will light the first candle on the same menorah that I lit as a child; the one that I grew up watching the candles burn down on the dining room table that was my grandmother’s. It will be placed on that same dining room table in my own house. My kids will see the lights on the same menorah, the same table, and they will be able to see through my eyes, even amidst the clutter that seems to grow multi-generationally on this dining room table.
This year, however, this old menorah has a special, additional meaning. I saw this menorah in Toronto at the Royal Ontario Museum in their Judaica exhibit, in the Chanukah window. A copy/replica of MY Chanukah menorah sits in the largest museum in Canada. The exhibit label states that it is from Gdansk, Poland, brass, from the early 1900s.
Happy Chanukah.
My family menorah. (c)2023
Royal Ontario Museum Judaica Exhibit. Hanukkah menorah, “Danzig” type, Gdansk, Poland, early 1900s. (c)2023
Ready for sundown. You can view it lit later tonight on Instagram (link in sidebar). (c)2023
These are a few of the things that have inspired me in the last several months and that keep inspiring me.
The duality of Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada. Bright and flashy by night; beautiful and awe-inspiring by day (and by night also). (c)2023
This is the Louis Roy Press, the oldest wooden printing press, and one of two remaining in working order; the second of which is in the US at the Smithsonian Institution. This press was used to print the 1793 Act to Prevent the further introduction of Slaves and to limit the Term of Contracts for Servitude within this Province [Ontario]. (c)2023
A good motto to follow. Begin the day with thanks, and the rest of the day will follow. (c)2023
Sometimes an inspiration takes on many forms and has many hands to form it.
The pictures below are a couple of my visit (pilgrimage, I suppose it could be called) to the Canadian National Shrine of St. Kateri Tekakwitha. I had been trying to visit here for several years. I was hampered from visiting due to their pandemic closure, and then I thought I wouldn’t be able to again this year because their opening hours did not coincide with our vacation plans.
My husband rectified that by suggesting our return a couple of weeks after our vacation to visit the shrine. And so, I was able to fulfill my desire to see the final resting place of St. Kateri Tekakwitha. This was my final stop in seeking out Kateri’s footsteps, and it was a beautiful experience that I will share in time.
In the meantime, enjoy these photos that do not do the site justice:
St. Francis Xavier Mission Church. Kahnawake, Quebec, Canada. (c)2023
The Altar. (c)2023
Looking from the altar to the entrance of the church. (c)2023
Tomb of St. Kateri Tekakwitha that holds her relics. (c)2023
August has been full. Already. But as I looked over some of my recent photos, I thought of little things that inspired me and still help me look forward. See photos for captions.
“If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.”
Marcus Tullius Cicero
My view on July is that it’s too hot. It’s barely the first week, and it is already too hot. When will fall be here? However, we still need to get through July (and the rest of the months) as we do all the other days. Be in the present. At least, try to be. The photos I’ve shared on bright, colorful, and motivating. Especially the books. The books are my intentions for July: spiritual journaling (and other writing), continuing to read the daily Scriptures in the voice of the Indigenous Peoples of this land (Turtle Island), and participate in a four week personal retreat with the four female Doctors of the Church: Therese of Lisieux, Teresa of Avila, Catherine of Siena, Hildegard of Bingen. Each has a special meaning for me that I hope to share in the next four weeks as I go through the book.
What are your plans for July?
What inspired you this week?
What is making you determined?
My new spiritual journal. PS I found the lost one. 😦 (c)2023
As I mentioned in the June Inspire last week, I’ve been awed by the number of inspiring events I’ve been privileged to have participated in since the very beginning of the month. Since I was unable to choose one or two to write about, I thought I’d write about most of them, and include some photos and links so you can explore on your own in your own timeframe and let them capture your imagination and inspire you as well.
One warning before I really get into it: this will be picture heavy (as well as, from my estimate, word heavy).
June began with a weekend retreat that I’m still feeling. June is also the end of the school year, and so during finals and Regent’s exams, my youngest often doesn’t have to go to school, and since the whole crew at home took a day off to see The Flash movie (no spoilers ahead), we decided to take a road trip to Connecticut. And then finally, a field trip to a college outside of Albany to tour a set of books (a Bible actually) of Biblical calligraphy and illuminations. And in between all of that it’s been busy with driving my kids, funeral for a colleague and friend, interfaith doings, Red Hats lunch, a broken hearing aid, weekly rosary, and Father’s Day, an interfaith prayer service, and a fellowship luncheon.
June has been a lot more than usual, and it’s still got a few days left; Indiana Jones will be inspiring in its own way. I don’t want it to sound as though I’m complaining; I’m really not, although once I get started it’s hard to turn off the listing; it’s like a waterfall. However, I can’t say it’s been dull or uninspiring; it’s definitely been the opposite of both of those.
For those who know, Wednesday is new comic day. It’s a weekly collaboration and celebration of reading and community tied together with a pull list and a handful of new issues. They range from black and white and vibrant color and everything in between, where words and pictures mesh to create something new that cannot be done with only one or the other.
Each local comic store has its own personality, and Earthworld Comics in Albany, NY’s personality was as big as the heart of its owner, JC Glindmyer. As the motto stated, they (and he with an assortment of helpers) had been rotting minds and seducing the innocent since 1983. We moved to the area in 1995 and had been visiting Earthworld whenever we were in Albany before that, well befoe our kids were born. My husband wouldn’t move to a place that didn’t have a comic store, and with Earthworld he found the best.
JC died this week.
We missed him on Free Comic Book Day due to a family obligation – it was the first one we’d ever missed, and this one really stings. Each first Saturday in May we’d get there early, waiting for the doors to open, hanging out with the costumed superheroes of the day that JC arranged to be there: Spider-man, Gamora, Batman, Supergirl, Wonder Woman. There were special days all through the year: Batman’s 75th anniversary, Halloweenfest, Fangirls Night Out, and while Free Comic Book Day was filled with free comic books and entertaining heroes, the biggest hero was JC, raising money each year for local charities.
I would also be remiss in not mentioning how often he helped us by floating our comics from payday to payday, knowing our struggle, but also knowing that we were regulars (for a couple of decades) and needed the respite of reading the new issues without the embarrassment of not being able to afford them. Kids don’t always understand the money aspect of life, and JC knew how important some of those books were to the little ones.
If Halloween was on a Wednesday, Earthworld would be our first stop before trick or treating. Below is a photo or our kids dressed up as Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman – the one trio we couldn’t wait to dress them up as!
During the covid pandemic, I’m sure he was worried about business, but he pulled together a curbside delivery after one week or so, and we tried to get there each week. We didn’t necessarily need the comics, but supporting JC was something that we didn’t even have to discuss. He met us (and other customers) curbside in his Earthworld t-shirt, Superman cape, and of course, his mask and gloves. A real super-hero.
This is JC. My husband dressed as him for a recent Halloween.
We’ll be there today because it’s Wednesday, but the store will seem emptier, quieter, sadder.
If you’re visiting upstate New York, stop in at the Albany store, and see the magic for yourself. If you’re too far to appreciate our bounty, visit your local comic book store and see the magic there.
May your memory be an eternal blessing, JC. You will be sorely missed. ❤
“Writing a book is an adventure. To begin with it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public.”
Winston Churchill
Let’s try that again. The entire essay is gone. No recovering it, and we’re off to the races again. It won’t be as witty or a breathtaking example of fine writing, but it is what it is.
I woke up this morning with a ton of stuff on my mind, and in my mind, and my mind would not settle down. I thought of a great story to write about the holidays, but it would also make a great blog post, and it might be a good memoir essay for the prompt of “details, details” that I’ve been struggling with, but it was also a good piece of family history, and it was probably prompted by a conversation I had with a friend about the balancing of Passover and Easter. As an aside, I happened to look at a calendar, and next year Easter is March 31, and Passover is near the end of April, so that should cause less balancing and juggling and stress, but of course, we’ll see how it goes. The best laid plans and all.
The thoughts and memories were coming fast and furious, one thing after the other, and I tried to filter out other unrelated memories that happened in the same space I was writing about. I had twenty minutes before I had to leave, and I could use that time to get it down before it was gone forever. I’ll remember it, I told myself. No, you won’t. You never do. And to make matters worse in my head, I knew that NO ONE in the history of writing remembers when they say they’ll remember and will jot the thought down later. No. One.
Griffins and Ginger Snaps 