Thoughts from Chickadee Lane

Yesterday I was one of many who showed up at Saint John City Hall to witness the raising of the Inclusivity flag on what was the International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia and Transphobia.   Rainbow colours and great rejoicing filled the square in support of the 2SLGBTQQiA+* community.   * 2SLGBTQQIA+ is a place holder that stands for 2-Spirit, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and transsexual, queer, questioning, intersex, asexual and everyone else. Still, one by one the courageous speakers spoke of how disturbing and frightening these days are amid the current political climate in New Brunswick in response to the provincial government’s plan to review Policy 713.   The current debate on Policy 713 and in particular, our Premier’s recent comments seem to have fuelled a hate filled rhetoric. A friend who teaches in the Saint John area, shared how she has never received any complaints or questions from parents on Policy 713 in her years of teaching. That changed yesterday (Wednesd

You might wonder. What do Tims, Bud Light and a condom have in common? They are all things you might find in a daily walk on the Peninsula.   Let me explain. Walking is something I like to do. Walking is part of my physical, mental and spiritual life. As I walk I witness up close the changing seasons, the sparking beauty of the river, the life force budding out and growing up. I witness the first appearance of the ‘trout lily,’ a pair of mallard ducks prepare for a family, clusters of frogs’ eggs that glisten in the sun.   I also witness the footprint left by humans as we pass by. With each daily walk, I carry a sack to gather up litter left by travellers. I see this collecting as one small part of my call "to live with respect in Creation” (A New Creed). I see it as a sacred gift to share this planet with all creatures.   To date the most popular items left on the side of the road and ditches are Tim Horton cups, and beer cans - the most popular being Bud Light. Styrofoam mugs, e

While I love to travel and see new sites and meet new-to-me people, it is so very, very good to be home. I am grateful that I am glad to be home.   Home is the place where I know where most things are… most days.   Home is the place where the surroundings are familiar. It is good to sit on the deck and witness the abundance of new life unfold all around - the oak buds unfurling, hostas and peonies bursting from their winter resting places, spring peepers singing their lustful cantata while tulips and daffodils bloom in all their glory.   I always wonder - how do they know it’s spring. What are the many secret messages encoded in those lifeless bulbs I planted last fall? How do the spring peepers know to sing? For me home is a place of safety. Where I can return, enter, close the door behind me, lean with my back against the door and sigh a sigh of relief. I am home. Home for me was not always a safe space. There was a brief time in my life when I feared what would await me under the ro