This first post to my blog “Living is a Funny Business” is an introduction, the why and what, of me undertaking this creative exploration. For many years I have had this urge to write a book and the very thought of that paralyzed me, it seemed overwhelming, so instead I am beginning with this writing practice; a posting a week for 52 weeks; musings about life from my perspective, based on my 60 years of living and loving.
I imagine myself a hippie, gypsy, earthy chick who is a compassionate seeker, always eager to learn and grow and love and laugh. This is the place from which I intend to write. The voice I wish to share with others. So I hope you will tune in occasionally to see what shows up. Also, please share the writing or the link to the blog with others, if any words move you or might be meaningful to someone you know.
Now the story of how this blog got its name:
My grandmother Hazel Mason, my dad’s mother, was my real life Fairy Godmother. She was for me that person each of us should have at least one of in our life, the one who loves us unconditionally and sees us more fully than anyone else. Her loving kindness and gentle spirit often surrounds me and gives me strength in times of challenge. Her twinkling eyes and cheeky humour still bring a smile to my face. I can picture her sitting at her piano, fingers knarled with arthritis yet tinkling the ivories with delight.
In 1987, at the time of my father’s passing at the age of 57, my grandmother was living in a nursing home, having reached the stage in her life where she was no longer capable of living on her own. This was especially tough for her, as she had lived in the same house for all but 3 of her 87 years. I imagine her identity was wrapped up in that house and she felt torn from it.
I was living in Australia at the time and had travelled back to Canada for my father’s funeral. Several days after his service, I spent some time with my grandmother. She seemed to be in many different time lines. She would speak about my dad as a lad, then to me as a teen, then look deep into my eyes and realize that my dad had passed and that I was grown. In one of her lucid moments she said to me, “Valrie”, (she pronounced my name like no one else, leaving out the sound of the second ‘a’) “this dying is a funny business”.
Many, many years later when I was pondering the idea of writing a book and wondering what the title should be, I went to sleep with that thought on my mind and awoke in the morning with a vivid memory of that moment with my grandmother. I decided living was also a funny business and that I would honour her memory by selecting that altered statement as the title of my book. Hence, Living is a Funny Business. Well the book idea has turned into the blog idea and here we are. I hope you will join me, on what will be for me, a grand adventure.
livingisafunnybusiness 