A number of the young teenagers I’ve talked to lately have raised their deep concerns about climate change. I feel they must be thinking and talking about it a lot. About the same amount as those of us older than they are NOT talking about it. And one bright 14 year old girl said to me, “I think you’re all leaving it up to us.” And then she smiled, “And we can do it!”
So I think it’s time for MORE TALK..
RECOMMENDATION: a Natural History Museum – the website of which is an incredible time traveller:
Excerpt: First Britons
By Lisa Hendry
First published 15 December 2017
Britain, with its rich history of monarchies, industry and culture, holds a lesser-known story in its past.
It’s the story of how people came to be here at all and their struggle for survival in a dramatically changing environment. It begins nearly one million years ago.
Britain’s unique location – between the Atlantic and continental Europe – means that it has experienced the fullest extremes of climate.
Over the past million years, its climate has fluctuated from balmy Mediterranean-like conditions to long stages of cold with large ice sheets covering much of the land.
Landscapes changed accordingly, with coastlines and rivers shaped by water and ice. Britain’s inhabitants had to adapt too, although sometimes they vanished altogether.
Humans in ancient Britain
Investigations such as the Ancient Human Occupation of Britain (AHOB) project have provided new insights.
This 13-year multidisciplinary collaboration between the Museum and other research institutions has transformed what we know about the earliest Britons and the world they lived in.
Prof Chris Stringer, Museum human origins expert and Director of AHOB, says:
‘Traces left behind by Britain’s earliest inhabitants are scattered across the landscape.
‘By combining evidence from animal and plant fossils, tools and other artefacts, we have been able to build quite a detailed picture of the lives of these early Britons and the conditions they faced.
‘Our research has revealed that there were at least 10 separate waves of occupation, as people were repeatedly driven out by extreme changes in the environment.’
This is so worth exploring!
And might I also recommend a book I’m reading at the moment for a fascinating look at the evolution of church out of clan life in later Britain:
Ecclesiastical History of the English People (Penguin Classics)
Learn more: https://www.amazon.com/dp/014044565X/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_U_ne6VCb8Y8K3E5
Long before we were starting to gather together some kind of DNA, some of the animal kingdom became more and more powerful in a ‘survival of the fittest’ kind of way. Read here about the exciting find of the giant lion:
ha! thirteen billion year old lightbulb,
microwave background of the
universe, harvesting and brewing
bluegreen primordial soup and throwing in
our galaxy’s cosmic curds – why do they
who is the master chef at the ‘antediluvian light’?
who the sous chef?
who manages, listens, watches, stirs, directs?
temperature, stages, benign neglect, love applied and
withheld – all brought together in
precision to encourage the curdy bluegreen muck
to gain mass and volume and shoot off clusters of
newborn irradiated galaxies stewed by
hallelujah! shout the archangels while
the heavenly host fly and sing to the
music of the spheres!
all, not merely a few, must see this and
abandon fear and whatifs – what if
the planet dies?
drop fear and soar – there are so many
places to visit when
“Black holes are where God divided by zero.” Albert Einstein (1879–1955)
I am so happy about yesterday that I am declaring April 10 – BLACK HOLE DAY! I’m going to talk politicians into having schools, businesses, government agencies, etc., devote the annual holiday to learning more about black holes. That will give everyone something to do on April 10 for eternity.
THANK YOU, ALBERT EINSTEIN, for your humility, your brain, your quirkiness and your manifold gifts to science and us. And thanks to everyone involved into giving birth to yesterday!
Let’s get on this transporter, folks, and off what we’re fed about our planet – and we’ll SAVE EARTH… with a nod and thanks to the younger generation’s exciting advancements!
Some words are not for poetry – III
(September 19, 2009)
Onomatopoetically sung song
spun beauty as gossamer thread glistening
I slide down dew-laced air always listening
to words tinged with heaven’s grace, but strung strong
Love does come to me, spinning and bathing
clothing and cradling my soul in its care
Beauty arises with silk gauze my wear
dressing, caressing, nudged gently wading
Into deep pondering life-weaving in awe
of wonder, surrender to beauty’s great
latticework frame, which cloaks and sustains us
translucent, hushed humbly, naked and raw
Into this beauty we spin without weight
hosanna-hymn laced with wild gentleness
[from I am Keats as you are by Glenn Peirson]
Glenn Peirson walked boldly and compassionately in this world, blazing new pathways, dreaming new dreams into being, and main- taining beautiful relationships. The complications of cancer treat- ment suddenly claimed him in November, 2009, after a three year heroic battle. His deepest devotion was to his God and his family: his exceptional soul-mate, Dr. Mary Peirson; his twelve year old daughter, Theodora; and his nine year old son, Henry.
Glenn was born in Kingston, Ontario, and raised in Guelph. He was a scholar, athlete, musician, spiritual giant, poet, gardener and great lover of the Land of Narnia. Before he completed secondary school, he was admitted on scholarship to the University of Guelph. During this time he was tenor soloist at Metropolitan United Church in Toronto. He received research grants, in particular, an NSERC grant in brain laterality and music. He was the Winegard Gold-Medalist at his convocation.
Glenn went immediately from his studies to McMaster Medical School in Hamilton, Ontario. In the entire period of medical school and residency, he sang with the celebrated Tafelmusik Baroque Or- chestra’s Chamber Choir, Toronto. Glenn also created practicums that took him to Moose Factory and further north, to Kapsowar in Kenya, and to St. Oswald’s Hospice in Newcastle-upon-Tyne in England. It was in his residency at McMaster that he met and fell in love with Mary Beingessner, who had studied medicine at the University of Toronto. They married in 1991, in their final year of residency and while Glenn was Chief Resident. In 1992, they spent two months in Malaysia, running a preventative medicine research project they had designed.
Glenn and Mary moved to Guelph in 1994. Mary established her career in public health medicine. Glenn worked as a palliative care physician, a community health centre physician and, in 1999, estab- lished a private practice in Cambridge, near Guelph. He was also the Addictions physician at Stonehenge Therapeutic Community. He maximized a life-style that included time for his highly cher- ished home-life, his music, his faith and finally his writing. He was a founding member of Tactus Vocal Ensemble, and a wine and spa writer for North American Inns magazine.
Finding and encouraging artistic gifts in children was a great joy for Glenn. His children have participated abundantly in the Guelph Youth Singers, Operetta Camp, the Kiwanis Festival and the South- ern Ontario Suzuki Institute’s summer program at Laurier Univer- sity. He was a vital member of Dublin Street United Church in Guelph, relishing it as a spiritual community for his family and as a place of spiritual growth and healing for all who attended. Our friend Evelyn once said, “Dublin Church is the platform for the ar- ticulation of Glenn’s soul.”
Glenn’s spirit continues to be strong. As he said, with a gentle touch, to every patient at the end of an appointment: “Be well.”
Poetry is the only way to touch upon the experience of cancer. It is also the only way to find the beauty in the beastliness. And for me, it was the only way to express my grief and allow healing into my life. Grief is a many-layered thing. It unfolds and refolds away from and over itself multitudinous times and in varying manifestations. To say that grief will fade away is misleading. To say that it will ameliorate and become an acceptable part of the griever’s psyche is a truth… as long as the griever intentionally grieves. Because grief begins with the diagnosis and because so much of my experience of watching a loved one suffer was beyond words, I set out on my intentional grief journey through writing.
cancerwords is a record of Glenn Peirson’s three year battle with a rare sinus cancer. Glenn, diagnosed at stage 4, did his elegant utmost to stay here for his wife and children, the joys of his life. As mother of this remarkable man for all seasons, I was seized by a need to write poetry and take photos on my prayer-walks. These two disciplines became my prayer forms. For me, they reached through the madness to a silence where pain is transformed into resilience. And I was sustained. And I was enabled to be what Glenn, Mary, Theodora and Henry needed me to be.
It is my hope that this book will speak to others, particularly parents. For when the death-order is violated by an intruder, it is almost too much for a parent to bear. I learned that I could survive what I had always said I couldn’t. I learned that I will never cease to be wondrously proud of and inexplicably connected to my son in whatever dimension he happens to be. And I learned that artistry, which resides, I believe, in the imagination, is the soul of healing.
There is a way for everyone. This is mine.
After the Interlude explores destiny, the sibling relationship, the impact on destiny of family of origin dynamics, where we were before we were born, where we’re going after we’ve left the planet, thin places, dreams, prayer and the importance of unbending intent. After the Interlude tackles purpose and the most difficult personal question of all personal questions—Why? After the Interlude converses with existence.
After the Interlude is an expression of an Everyperson. All human beings know fear. All human beings lose family members. All human beings question. All human beings are wounded and flawed. And, above all, all human beings come with a destiny to be uncovered and lived and a monumental capacity to love. The point of life, according to After the Interlude, is now and what we do with all the nows of our lives.
And, above all, After The Interlude faces death head-on. Ellyn Peirson’s credo on the soul’s journey is a personal culmination of years of exploration of the soul. Andrew Ruhl, Ellyn’s soul-friend, responds to and frames the theories and propositions in words and photography.