Greenland's Life Lessons

Whether we’re 17 or 70, re-creating our lives isn’t always easy. Sometimes it’s the last thing we want to do, but life has a way of forcing it upon us. We lose our job or we have to quit. We must move away. We finally admit that our own decisions are robbing us of happiness. A person we’ve counted on for years does something so painful we just can’t bring ourselves to see them again. Worst of all, we must say goodbye when a family member or friend passes on.

After these traumas, we need to allow our tears to fall. Loss demands it. But once we’ve dried our eyes, we can pick up the pieces of our lives, Dr. Harold Greenwald says in his book THE HAPPY PERSON, making daily choices that will lead us back to happiness. But, he claims, our expectations about being happy must shift first. We must eradicate negative thoughts and words that brand us as a victim. Instead we must establish the habit of expecting happiness and visualizing that happiness in living color. Plus, we have to work at it, gradually and diligently.

But how will we decide how to change, what to do, which steps to take? Only after going inward will we know. Our mysterious, wonderful inner voice, if tapped often, can tell us better than any other what to try…and yes, try again. Gradually listening to that voice within, we can take on the challenge of discovering new habits and activities that will quench our thirst for companionship, fulfillment, adventure, inner peace and love.

A friend of mine, who is steeped in Jungian psychology, suggested I pose a question to the Spiritual Force that lies within me before going to bed. “Ask what you’re not seeing about the obstacle or disappointment you’re facing,” she said. “Ask to know which direction to take so you can grow as a person, and in wisdom.  Keep asking. You’ll receive an answer.”

This might sound unusual, but I tried it after meditating, as I often do, before going to sleep. When I awoke the next day I got an answer, two in fact!  I was elated.  Those insights led to two decisions that I couldn’t be happier about today.

Yes, change is definitely not easy and sometimes it’s so gradual it is almost imperceptible. So be patient.

A few months ago, while viewing Greenland from the deck of a ship, I contemplated how this massive island, originally situated way down in Antarctica, slowly moved north over billions of years, until now it’s adjacent to the North Pole.  Isn’t that amazing? Talk about change…  

GREENLAND'S LIFE LESSONS

Oldest island in the world,

    what can you teach me?

Is your ancient movement up the globe

   through  centuries of time

    a lesson? . . .

         that I must not count on fixed stars or familiar loves?

For as a land mass travels and transforms,

  So do we.

And as certain as a sunrise

   promises a new day, 

   the breath and the beat of life

  shifts into new rhythms,

  moving to traverse a world beyond. . .

  what is.

  

By Katherine Sartori

Author of THE CHOSEN SHELL

www.katherinesartori.com

Madeline's Gifts

As we get older, I believe we need role models, more than ever, to inspire us.  Madeline gave that gift to me and my husband Joe.  I am sure, to many others, as well. 

My husband and I met her in an Emeritus History class at Saddleback College some years ago. I can still picture her a couple weeks after we met.  We were enjoying a break between classes and with a twinkle in her eyes and a special smile, she announced she was going to celebrate her birthday and would soon turn 80. Surprise must’ve shown on my face.  She noticed immediately. “You didn’t know, did you? Yes, I am 79 and I will soon be 80,” she said proudly. I’ll never forget how her voice literally rang with glee. 

For me, this was a woman whose age didn’t matter.  She looked and acted young, the way I want to look and act when I turn 80. She was energetic, curious, involved in many activities, asked many questions, and was a voracious reader. 

My husband Joe is more of a non-fiction reader than I, and he and Madeline shared several books. Once he warned her that a book he’d lent her on Russian history and culture was an usually serious read, literally packed with a wide range of detailed information and facts.  “It might take you a while to read this one,” he said.  To his surprise when she brought the book back to him only a week later, she admitted, “Yes, you were right, Joe, but I loved reading it!”

Over the course of time, visits to our home and several classes that we shared with Madeline, we all learned about Philosophical thought through the ages, Russian culture and many different aspects of film-making.  One day, when we were enjoying a break between classes again, I shared with Madeline that I was a published writer and had almost finished writing a novel about the time in my life, many years ago, when I was a nun. 

She was fascinated, I guess, and began to tell me about the memoir she’d written several years before. Now it was my turn to become completely fascinated, because the next time she visited our home she lent me her memoir to read and comment on. I was very touched.  She was honoring Joe and I by sharing the story of her life with us:  How, as a very young Jewish girl, her parents had found a way to hide her in a convent from the Nazis who had marched into Paris, and how her brother was separated from her and was hidden in a seminary not far away.  Her memoir also told of her wonderful ongoing love for her husband, and the passion for music they shared throughout their marriage.

Her writing was vivid, her words painting pictures in our minds of what she’d thought and felt during a very dangerous time in her life and later, her travels to Israel with her beloved husband. I told her that her memoir was a treasure and that it was wonderfully written. I suggested she should join my writing group and continue writing, but she said simply, “I wrote my story for my children and my grandchildren. That is enough for me.”

Madeline honored Joe and I again when she called to tell us that her husband, after suffering with Altzeimers for several years, had passed away.  When I asked if I could come and take her out or do something for her, she told me that her daughter Joy came to see her very often. “She is taking good care of me,” she said proudly, “ and so are my other children and grandchildren.”

Yes, Madeline gave Joe and I several gifts:  her frank opinions on politics, her pointed questions, her empathy when our own family troubles occurred, but most of all, she gave us her zest for learning and living, and of course, her stories.  We know she was fluent in several languages: French, Hungarian, Hebrew, German and the language of life, caring and compassion.  She honored us with her presence and her spirit.  She will be missed but never forgotten.