STUNG!!!

I’ve been stung!!! The first sting occurred on Wednesday, early evening. I was walking up the veranda steps when—Pow!!!! Something got me in the heel, just above my sandal strap. A less truthful person would report my having said, “Oh my, that hurts.” The second sting happened about an hour later, as I walked, barefoot, (the sandal strap was bothering my swollen ankle) across that same veranda. That one hit the bottom of the unstung foot. Was it a wasp? No, It was a rose briar, attached to a clump of rose leaves. The tireless wind had plucked them from the nearby rose bush. Even a less truthful person wouldn’t credibly be able to report that I said, “Oh my, that hurts.” The third sting struck on Thursday, on the arm just above my watch strap. That one was definitely a wasp. Shamelessly, he headed off to join his house mates, who had taken up residence in the safe haven under the broad front steps. “I’ve been stung!!” I wailed at Mark. And then, to add emphasis, “I’ve been stung twice!” Mark has a proven track record in wasp warriorship. Was it only last weekend that he sprayed a line of killler foam into a wasp home in the siding behind his deck? Buoyed by my confidence in him as the potential solver of large problems, Mark rose to hero status. A less truthful person would report that he cried, “I’ll save you Mother!” That’s how bravely he acted. Striking up a pose that Superman would have envied, he pounded a foot on the veranda’s bottom stetp. The results were immediate. Out flew a colony of wasps, heading straight for Pirate the dog, the innocent by-stander. “Help Pirate,” shouted Mark. Pirate and I have been stung! Surprisingly, since Pirate—though not much for profanity-- has not been known as the silent type, didn’t say a word, he just ran in desperate circles until he was at last captured by Mark, who extracted a tormentor that had accidentally become entangled in the long hair between his eyes. When the excitement had died down, and the killer foam had been sprayed, and all that remained was the hum of the colony now trapped, suffocating in a formerly safe residence, I went inside to remove the watch from my swelling arm. Pirate followed me in and caught an airborn wasp. He chewed it into little pieces and swallowed every one. Mark went home to check the deck for wasps. Just one mor eexample to prove that each of us has our own way of responding when we’ve been stung.

FEEL THE VIBE!

Yesterday Lenora LeMay and I had a visit from the VIBE team. VIBE (Vermilion is Being Empowered) is one of the 38 mental health in schools capacity building initiatives led by Alberta Health Services Addiction and Mental Health in partnership with Alberta Education and funded by Alberta Health and Wellness. The team came to Hope House to show us what they have done with hope. Inspired by a 90-minute Telehealth seminar given by Lenora, they had designed 5 hope lessons for the Grade 5 health curriculum. Then, having attended a two-day hope workshop given by me at the Alberta College of Social Work 2012 conference, they designed 5 lessons for a high school curriculum. They brought gifts—a book of hope images designed by the kids, and the cuddliest hope-opotamus we’ve ever hugged. They came to show us their work and to ask if we had ideas of how they might add to it. They invited their funders to the celebration. All in all, it was hope work the way we like it—collaborative, creative and expansive.

A THOUGHT ABOUT HOPEFUL STORIES

Borrowed from The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel It will come out all right in the end. If it isn't right, it's not the end.

WISDOM FROM MICHAEL ENRIGHT

“I’ve learned that laughter is prayer; work is therapy and music and poetry are gifts from Heaven. I’ve learned that you should not do too much planning. Always leave room for chance or plain old fashioned luck. And you should constantly do, because action is more fulfilling than doing nothing.” --Michael Enright, convocation address to York University, aired on CBC Radio, The Sunday Edition, June 17, 2012: Well said, Michael. Only I would add that prayer is also prayer, except when something starts you giggling in the middle of it. Then prayer is laughter.

ROBINS

We thought they'd gone elsewhere, or met a dreadful fate. But here they are, doing nest renovations, repairing the damage from the recent House Finch invasion. There they hop, purching on benchbacks, startling off at an unexpected bang. The renos are done now. The sitting has started. All things being lucky, there'll be babies poking their heads over the nest edge right about the time when the veranda is buzzing with the guests Mark and Tracey have invited to their wedding. How could their timing have been better? A little bird magic!

starting

It’s the season for miracles. One trip outside treats you to the twitter and caw of a hundred—maybe a thousand birds. Each of these birds was once the liquid in an egg. And then, by warmth alone, a heartbeat began. Who would have the audacity to suggest that there might be no hope when life, so unaccountably resisting all odds and reason, persists, insists on beginning this way?

A LITTLE MEDIA GOES A LONG WAY

Thanks to Cam Tait of the Edmonton Journal for helping us celebrate Hope Foundation's 20th anniversary with an article about our history. UNIQUE ORGANIZATION PROVES A LITTLE HOPE GOES A LONG WAY

broadcasting from denver

Thanks to Carol Jeanotilla and her Hope Journal program, I spent a pleasant 45 minutes chatting about hope. Rumour has it that feedback was received from as far away as Brazil. Here are Carol's instructions for downloading a podcast: Go to www.castlerockradio.com/archives.html Simply find The Hope Journal listing, click on us and then click on the air date - 4/26/12 - to listen any time 24/7.

LIBRARY IN THE MORNING

For the last week I’ve been going to the library everymorning before going to work. It’s a pleasant place, a library in the morning, in your housecoat, with your hair still askew and your eyes barely open. I am preparing a summer reading collection, biographies, fiction, a little history, a really fine assortment of materials to keep me happy all summer. What better place to do it than at the CNIB Library, now that it has revised its website? If you are an eligible client of theirs, you can browse for books, locate audio and braille editions, and download them to read on your own personal machines. It’s a miracle really. If he were here, I am certain that Sir William Mulock would be delighted by the development. He was, in his day, a forward-looking fellow, the kind who would implement snazzy new ideas. In 1898, Postmaster General Sir William Mulock granted free postage, known as franking, for all braille material sent through the mail. Later, after the invention of sound recording, audio books were granted the same privilege. It would be impossible to calculate how much it would have cost to distribute all the braille and talking books by mail over the past 114 years. Until very recently, almost all blind canadians ordered books from the CNIB Library in Toronto and waited for them to arrive in the mail. But times have changed. I was getting CNIB books by mail before Canada had its 100th birthday. I was getting them before anybody got to the moon. And getting books free in the mail was a wondrous thing which I loved, and I doubt if any Canadian was more grateful to Sir William than I was. But getting books on the Internet, in the cool of the morning, before leaving for work is even better.

THE FUTURE IS NOT THE PAST

Statistics predict the future based on the past. They are important in telling us how things were. And here is something to remember when you get to thinking that things never change for women. For more than 100 years there was virtually no chance that the Premier of Alberta would be a female. And then, in 2012, there was only one question: In the race of five leaders, which of the two female contenders would get the position?

HOPE LADY ON DENVER RADIO

Join Wendy Edey and Carol Jeanotilla on a live broadcast of The Hope Journal Show from Denver, Thursday April 26, 9:00 AM Mountain Daylight Time. Wendy will be discussing the psychology of hope, the language of hope and the role that humor plays in hope. Listen-in live on your computer by going to www.castlerockradio. The broadcast will last 1 hour.

FAMILY VIOLENCE TREATMENT HAS CHANGED

This week I attended the Knowledge Sharing Forum for the Alberta provincial Family Violence Treatment Program. It was truly an enlightening experience. The room was filled with probation officers, group facilitators, addicitions counsellors, social workers and psychologists. The mood was distinctly positive. I hadn’t really known what to expect, but I do know I wasn’t expecting that. The last time I attended such a meeting they were talking about confronting the offenders, forcing them to take responsibility for their actions. The tone was aggressive. It was hard to find a place for our hope and strengths strategies in that emotional climate. But that was then, and this was now. I met many hard-working people who are deeply proud of the work they are doing. The work is positive yet honest. There is a recognition that many offenders hope to be something other than violent, that they would do things differently if they knew how. There is an enthusiasm about working constructively with that hope.

iPhone CHANGES THE WORLD

My sister brought her iPhone to my house, loaded with an ap for blind people. She took a picture of the Angel Food box.
“Angel Food,” said the iPhone. That impressed me a little bit, but only a little bit. We’ve had the ability to convert text to speech for 30 years.
She took a picture of the flower vase on my table.
“Glass flower vase,” said the iPhone. Now that impressed me. Of course I already knew it was a glass flower vase, but a thing that can take a picture of a flower vase, and translate that picture into words, might just change the world.

WHY DOES HOPE TALK WORK?

So much of what we learn in one profession helps us to understand other professions. When it comes to understanding how humans decide what to do, it’s “Feel first, think later,” according to Julie Sedivy, co-author of Sold on Language: How Advertisers Talk to You and What This Says About You. This, I believe, is why hope talk works. When we talk hope in a structured, confident manner, we feel hope, and we act out hope also.
It works with people who have depression, and it works with people who have chronic pain. It works for athletes, for corporate boards and also for advertisers.

RECIPE FOR FASCINATION

Put two ideas into a jar, shake well, open the jar, and see what you have.
Will it be humour, some fabulous new invention, or two separate ideas—shaken, but not combined?
I have built a career on the two-idea mixing concept. You can see it played out if you consult the Internet in a search for the answer to the question: “What does she do, anyway?” You can see the combining there, lodged in the titles of speeches made and articles published. What do you get when you combine hope with getting old, with offender treatment, with having Parkinson’s Disease, with parenting a child with disabilities? What do you get when you combine hope with being a cancer physician, a corporate CEO, a refugee, a patient getting her teeth cleaned? What do you get when you combine hope theory and practice with the work that counsellors do?
How I love the things you learn when you shake ideas in a jar! No wonder I’ve been so fond of the career that chose me! No wonder I’m so often fascinated by the things that happen when others combine and shake ideas. Take this combination, for example: THE SOUND OF TASTE
Did you know that bacon taste better to people who hear the sound of its frying? This is true, according to Barb Stuckey, food inventor, idea shaker and author of Taste What You’re Missing.

IF I WERE A SIGHTED PERSON...

There are quite a few things I would do,
like getting my driver’s license,
and catching people’s eye.
Among other things,
I’d identify birds by using bird books.

What could be more fun
Than flipping through the pages,
Spying a bird with a cry of
“That’s the one!”

Me: I heard the most beautiful bird song this morning. I was talking to Donna on the phone at the time and I just had to open the door so she could hear it too.
Him: There’s a new bird in the robin’s nest on the veranda this year.
Me: What kind of bird?
Him: I don’t know what it is.
Me: Maybe it’s the bird with the beautiful song.
Him: Maybe. It has a very red breast.
Me: But not a robin?
Him: Smaller than a robin.
Me: And it’s head?
Him: Red head.

If I were a blind person,
I would try to remember
That I live in 2012
When anybody can go to the computer
And search for “smaller than a robin, red head, red breast, Alberta.”

Me: I think it’s a house finch.
Him: (looking at screen) I don’t know. I’ll wait until I see it again.
Me: I am sure it’s the song of the house finch.

If I have to be a blind person,
And it does seem that I do,
Then I’m glad to be one in 2012,
Even if I can’t say for absolute certain it’s a house finch,
Because here I sit, blogging,
While listening on the computer to a most beautiful bird song.

HOPE, WOMEN, POLITICS, MEDIA

I am delighted that we have female party leaders running in our election.
I hope women will be as comfortable in politics as men are.
I hope to help them be comfortable by promoting a Name It, Change It a website that identifies how sexism in the media gives male candidates the upper edge when it comes to getting elected, and provides a media guide to help media write fairly about female and male candidates.
I hope our media will use that media guide.
I hope we will support the media writers who use the guide, and withdraw attention and support from those media outlets who choose to get attention by disadvantaging females in politics through sexist coverage.

hope and strengths strategies for health care professionals

Sign up now for this workshop presented by Wendy edey and Rachel Stege!



Saturday, May 5, 2012.
9:00am until 4:00pm.

The Hope Foundation of Alberta presents a 1-day workshop for Healthcare Professionals who would like to:
* Learn strategies for talking about hope with patients
* Consider false hope, denial, and acceptance in the context of being hopeful
* Explore ways of maintaining your own hope while doing your work

Who: Healthcare professionals (Note: Participants should be actively working in a healthcare discipline)

Cost: $100/person. Lunch will be provided.

Call 492-1222 to register. Limited to 12 participants.

HOPE FOR COURAGE

Here’s a hope story for you. 100 years ago a band of 8 musicians played to the end while the Titanic sank. People began telling the story as soon as the first survivors were rescued, and we are still telling it today. In fact, an artifact is now being examined to prove that it is, as claimed, the violin played by by the bandmaster, Wallace Hartley. Why is it that we cling to stories like these? Could it be that each of us hopes that, somewhere in us, there is a spring of untested courage that would bubble up at the last?
The Band Played On: The Untold Story of the Musicians Who Went Down with the Titanic

HOPE LADY PREPARES A SPEECH

I am getting ready to speak at the Greater Edmonton Retired Teachers Association Second Wind Conference, taking inventory of my resources.
I will start with a good title. A good title gets you going. How about, Audacious Hope and the Search for the Future Me? That’s catchy. It puts your mind where it needs to be for a hope talk, in the future.
I’ll take hope tools. After all, the hope tools have built my speaking reputation. If anything can dig up hope, the hope tools will do it.
I’ll take a little humour, of course. That’s what people want in a keynote speech, a little humour with their morning coffee. Humour coats whatever else you put in a speech for easy digestion.
I’ll take my personal experience with teachers, not so much my experience as a student. Those experiences belong in hope talks at other conferences. But it just so happens that I live in a family populated by passionate teachers, hard-working teachers, retired teachers, first-year teachers, experienced teachers in the prime of their careers. Teaching, I have learned from them, can be an enormously challenging, often frustrating, and absolutely fabulous career. On any given day, in any given year, teaching is more or less of any of these three. I understand the idea of a passionate career. It gives me hope.
Then also, because I have no choice in the matter, I’ll take along my own body, the body of a woman my age, a body which, to my consternation, often requires that I call meetings of its parts to assemble an order of things before agreeing to get up after sitting on the floor, or spending a long night in bed. It refuses to remember those university days when I used to choose sitting on the floor. I’ve tried to make it promise better days. But so far it hasn’t been the greatest listener.
Remembering other times, like the times when I was a parenting expert, those times before I had any kids, I wonder if it would be easier to give a hope talk to retired teachers if I had the body of a 30-year-old.