I was thinking the other day about “happiness” and how I started this blog seeking happiness in a time where I wasn’t seeing or feeling very happy.
Over the last 10 years there have been so many ups and downs in my life journey, moments of happiness, moments of despair, times of fear, feelings of freedom, times where the pain has cut so deeply I wasn’t sure I’d survive, and times where the sun shone brightly in my world.
I think what I was really searching for, what I really have been searching for wasn’t happiness (I mean, to some extent it was), but instead I was searching for love and the feeling of peace that comes with love.
For me, often (usually) love hasn’t brought a lot of peace. I’ve realized over time that is because I was trying to make things/relationships/people/situations that weren’t love into love. And this became confusing for me over my life. You can’t find love where love is not. It’s been hard to realize that many, many times in my life what I have thought was love was not love at all.
I think we all misuse love to some extent as humans. We can try to manipulate people into loving us, or into putting up with things that cause them pain because they love us, or by using each other in an attempt to relieve our own pain of not feeling loved.
I have realized I need to redefine what love is for myself. What does it mean to love? What does it mean to be loved? What does it mean to be a loving presence on the planet?
The best real-life examples I could come up with was how I have felt with my animals. Thank goodness for the connection humans have with animals, thank God for how animals put up with us and teach us love. Once I could take that as a baseline for love I could apply it to my human relationships and see things more clearly. Some relationships I have with people have been called love but weren’t and some were filled with love that went unrecognized. Lots of learning.
As I was thinking about love and trying to define love for myself I realized that of course there’s a place where I could go and find a definition of love that I could use with faith and confidence that it was, in fact, what love is:
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
I have realized how important it is for me to follow this definition if I want to be a loving person, but I am realizing that it is equally important that I look at how others are treating me, and how they treat other people.
Yesterday I was standing in our community hall waiting to meet someone and I started reading the poster that hangs on the west end that tells some of the history of how the hall came to be. It’s really something I should know since that building has been part of my life, part of our community, for almost 100 years now. And yet, somehow I’ve never made it all the way through reading it.
I love that old hall. We’ve had parties there, dances, Santa has come and given presents to generations of children, we’ve had Stampede breakfasts, and of course there have been family gatherings. Some of my family gathered there over the weekend to celebrate Thanksgiving and I’m grateful to have been able to attend and catch up with people I rarely get to see.
So, here’s the story of the Hall that hangs up high on the wall that I had never taken the time to read, but finally did so. I’m so glad I did too, it’s like a little love story about our Hall:
Jumping Pound Hall
By Margaret Bateman
The Hall sits on a hill visible from the Trans Canada Highway and was built in the year 1927. It has an excellent hardwood floor, its walls and ceilings are finished in “V” joint. Benches have been built along both sides of the hall with shelves built above the benches. There are electric lights since the year 1947 and in the year 1967 a propane stove and furnace were installed. It is a frame building sitting on sand stone blocks reinforced with cement. It is painted grey with white trim and the roof is covered with red asphalt shingles.
However, it wasn’t always like this. Before World War I, Arthur Cope, Leonard Hutt and the Bacon Boys planned to build a hall and the site was to be on Section 14 near the Pile of Bones Hill. The logs were hauled out but when the war broke out the idea was abandoned because some of the men did not return. The logs remained for some time and then Stanley Cope decided to make use of them and designed a corral in the shape of a cross and his cattle were able to seek shelter from cold winds in all four sections. About the year 1926, the district decided they needed a hall. Prior to that time nearly all social events such as card parties, masquerades, box socials, and dances had been held in private homes around the district. Some of the hosts for these parties were J.W. Copithorne, Hugh Robinson, Frank Sibbald, L.D.and E.E. Nicholl, Dave Lawson, Dick Copithorne, and John Bateman. The school and the post office were used for social events too. I heard of one event which took place in the Jumping Pound Post Office – a box social to make money for Red Cross during the first war when Grannie Bateman played the mouth organ for dancing.
When plans were completed for the Hall – John Copithorne donated an acre of land to be the site of the Hall. The lumber was obtained from Syd Chester in Cochrane and was hauled by team and wagon by some of the local boys, namely Percy and Harry Copithorne, Clarence Sibbald, Dave Lawson, Norman Edge, and Bill Bateman. The total cost of the Hall lumber was $1,479.35, hardware and furniture $654.75, labour $477.90, making a grand total of $2,612.00. Dan Fenton was chief carpenter and all the men in the district did the volunteer work. Charlie Cooley was responsible for the sandstone blocks and since the ground was frozen he used some dynamite to loosen the earth where the blocks were to be set in. As a result, a fair sized hole and considerable cussing but the job got done.
The hall was heated with a coal and wood heater – a bog one donated by McLynn; Coleman lamp lighted the hall.
About the same time as the hall was built the Ghost Dam was being constructed and the workers prioritized the hall – as did all the local people of the district. The opening night of the Hall was a gala affair – the walls were decorated with bear, wolf, and deer hides loaned by Mr. Frank Sibbald. A huge crowd attended and Mr. Sibbald was floored manager. Over the years the hall has been decorated in different ways, at one time Kleenex flowers were attached to shutters painted green and adorned the windows. These took a long time to make and was a project for the local ladies whenever they met to make flowers. Another time decorations of autumn leaves and foliage and Christmas decorations were obtained courtesy of Hudson Bay Co. Another time gay Chinese lanterns were hung from the ceiling to decorate the hall.
Card parties too were popular and the Xmas concert put on by the school children was looked forward to by all the community. Plays were preformed by people from Springbank and there was a popular minstrel show from Cochrane – Mr Brodie and Sam Allan.
In those days if one chose to have a nip or two the bottle was cached behind a willow bush or down a gopher hole. The police sometimes came out and checked on the dances. A few times there was a fight or two, no one was seriously hurt just their dignity. Lunch was served at midnight – a good one, sandwiches, home made cake and real good coffee made by Archie Maclean. He was a good coffee maker, but was very possessive with the kitchen, he liked it to himself.
Do you remember dancing to the music of some of these names? Does Henry Bolter ring a bell? What about the times we danced when Margy Buckley played the piano, Percy Copithorne the violin and Jack Copithorne on the drums. Other bands came from Calgary such as Vi Hopkins, “Ma” Trainor, “Blind Mac”, Jerry Cooke, Lee Lewis, Mrs. Foster, and more recently Lamberts from Cochrane.
The dances now are more modern living, rock and roll – not so many square dances or even waltzes. Supper is still served and there is often a Barr. The price to attend dances has greatly increased as has the cost of the bands.
Showers and special anniversaries are well attended and looked forward to. Turkey shoots are also popular.
Our hall has been our meeting place, events looked forward to and been a source of enjoyment to all of us who reside in the district.
Last night I was actually organized enough to get myself to bed early. I’ve been exhausted and not sleeping well, so figured if I was going to wake up early I’d trick myself by going to bed early.
When we went outside at 8 to grab the last running dog, my daughter gave a little squeal and told me to look up in the sky. The whole sky was dancing and it was absolutely amazing. It was just settling into darkness, so you could still see some actual sky and clouds – but also colours bouncing everywhere.
We ran out of the yard and into the field so we could stand amongst the beauty of the universe and enjoy the light show. God really gave us something to appreciate last night, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one quite like this – and the girl has never seen northern lights that you didn’t have to look through the phone camera to properly see.
It was a real honour to be able to stand outside for an hour or so taking in the beauty and wonder of the moment that nature was providing for us. Stop and be still, listen and hear, see and be seen, love and be loved.
By the way, I went to bed much later than intended and slept like a log. God is Good.
Thoreau has always been one of my favourite writers. I fell in love with Walden when I was 18 or so in a university English class and my life has never been the same again.
Back then, as a teenager living in Alberta, going to Concord, MA where Thoreau lived and wrote seemed like an impossibility. It’s a good thing that through God, the impossible becomes possible – because 20 years later I was walking around Walden Pond after a short drive from the home where I was living. Life is definitely like a box of chocolates – you never know what you’re going to get!
My photo memories showed me that today, 14 years ago on 10/10/10 we did a forced family fun trip to Walden Pond, and through Concord to take a peek at some of the great American writers.
I think of Thoreau often as I am seeking the peace and quiet of my own woods to clear and calm my mind. The insights and wisdom I get when I unplug from the chaos of electronics and life and plug into the sounds and space of nature is about as close to God as I can get (bonus if there’s a horse around).
The writings of the transcendentalists – many of whom lived in the Concord area – are some of my favourite things to read. Especially when I need a bit of inspiration or need to feel closer to God. Emerson is another one of my favourites. His poem “Give All to Love” is the poem that made me like poetry.
But Walden Pond itself was also a spectacular place. There were people who had made rituals of swimming in the lake, walking the path around the pond, and just being quietly in nature. It was really inspirational and peaceful.
So now I walk my woods with my dogs, working at living more deliberately myself, seeing if I can learn what my woods have to teach.
When I was a little girl, sometimes my mom would read me some Old Mother West Wind stories before bedtime. I always loved Thornton W. Burgess’ accounts of the adventures of the creatures of the Green Forest, but Sammy Blue Jay was one of my all time favourites. Perhaps because he was always getting in trouble just for being himself.
When I became a parent and we were living out East, I bought a set of the Old Mother West Wind books for my family and the tradition continued. This time, when we read about Sammy Blue Jay, we could see him right outside the window. I loved many things about living in the East, and by far one of them was the birds – the Blue Jays and the Cardinals being my favourite.
This last year, we suddenly have a yard full of Blue Jays, all of them named Sammy. I have never seen so many here, and don’t remember them being part of my youth on the ranch at all, and I am loving it! They sit in the beautiful tree that is my direct view out of the kitchen window and eat the seeds I put out. I have spent many hours watching and enjoying these birds.
I remember many people disliking the Jays, saying they were loud and obnoxious, but I never felt that way. I did, however, feel that way about our local Magpies, and I remember being shocked when someone I knew saw one for the first time and went on about what beautiful birds they are. I thought to myself (maybe said out loud) “how could anyone like Magpies? They’re so loud and obnoxious”.
Yesterday I was sitting outside and I heard the weirdest sound. After much investigating I discovered it was one of the Sammys singing the song of his people (the song of his birds?) and it was pretty horrible. For a moment I could start to see how they could possibly also be obnoxious. But then, I heard a Magpie go by screeching away and I was reminded that no, in fact, the Magpies are their own special creatures.
Whatever the case, whatever the sounds, I am loving the birds that come to my feeder. They now come up to the windowsill and do a hard stare inside to let me know when their food supply has been depleted. The resident squirrel, not so much. He prefers to throw objects at me from the safety of his tree perch to let me know that his tummy needs to be filled.
Even with the occasional screeeeeech, I find the sounds of nature so soothing. It’s good to remember we all are here sharing life on the planet, we are all part of the same experience, equal in importance and value.
Silent Night has always been one of my favourite songs. Partly because I love how we sing it at the candlelight service on Christmas Eve, but mostly because of Mrs. Taylor who used to look after me when I was a baby. I remember her singing both Silent Night and Jesus Loves Me over and over when I was a little one. I remember her giving me a sugar cube when I got bucked off my first horse when I was around 3 (it was a toy horse on springs that ran off on me and bucked me onto the cement floor of our unfinished basement). Mom used to complain that all Mrs Taylor would do was come over and hold the baby, leaving her to do everything else. But I always loved that lady who loved holding the baby (me).
Sinéad O’Connor has long been someone I’ve admired. Her voice is angelic, I remember as a teenager the first time I heard her sing I had body shivers. I don’t want to talk too much about her here (although I have so much to say about her), but I do want to say this. She was right. About everything. People thought she was crazy, but she stood in her truth.
I came across Sinéad’s version of Silent Night the other day and I can’t listen to it enough. Her voice, that song, it combines into something that brings me closer to God. How have I never heard her version before? Sleep in Heavenly Peace Sinéad.
Spoiler alert: Mom went to Stanford and had the time of her life. Apparently it only cost 7 cents to air mail this gem from San Diego to the ranch in 1959.
University of Sam Diego College for Women
4/28/59
Dear Mom, Dad and Marsh;
First: Official recognition of all your letters, and I’m glad we’re in the social register even though I think it’s a terribly snobby idea.
I usually type off the letters just before class or something like that and don’t bother to look at your letter as I do it but I think I’ve received all of them.
I got a letter from occidental last Saturday and they said they thought there was too many stairs for me there. That leaves just Redlands and Stanford. I hate to put in that $50 to Redlands until I hear something definite from Stanford as I don’t think I would get it back if I changed my mind about going. There really isn’t much chance of my getting into Stanford but if I was accepted there that would be the place I’d go. I should hear from them in the next week or so. It sounds as though I am already on the waiting list at Redlands so it wouldn’t make that much difference to wait a bit.
I finally got my English term paper done over the weekend. It was 24 typewritten pages. My other one is due on Friday and I haven’t even got going on it yet. I’ll be glad when all this is over.
One of the seniors might sell me her typewriter. She hardly ever types and it is in very good condition. She hasn’t decided how much to charge yet but if it isn’t too much, I think I’ll buy it. this one never was too good and it is getting worse. The keys keep sticking and they are too close. (As a reader I can vouch for this- there are some weird things going on with her old typewriter)
If I get accepted at Stanford, I think I’ll home by S.F. And stop to look over the campus. If I don’t, I’ll enquire about that next route. It sounds as if it might be cheaper.
I guess that’s all the news for now.
Write often
Love Margi
PS They asked me to fill out my schedule here for next year so I did.
I find it hilarious to read Grandma’s description of her experience at the Glen Miller concert considering one of my favourite stories to tell is how I was constantly (or so it seemed) forced to sit with Grandma and watch the Lawrence Welk show as a child. What the blaring horns were to her the accordions were to me haha. Fortunately I have only made my children listen to 80s music so I’ve prevented them from the same sort of emotional scarring.
RR2 Calgary, Alberta
March 20th 1954
Dear Margie
I hoe I don’t leave any cold-germs in this letter, I’ve had a horrid cold these last few days. Bet you enjoyed Mrs Barkley’s gift and the flowers Clarence sent. I’ll try and thank them soon. Dad has been curling every night and going to town every day and I’ve been trying to keep up with him. Guess I should’ve but the house is so empty and lonely now I hate to stay home. We all miss you so terribly, Sheila and Marshall feel as Dad and I do, you can see it when they come home. It will be a happy day when you are all home together again.
I am going in for Sheila now, she gets tonight and tomorrow off. Uncle Frank called in for tea this morning, he wanted to see Dad’s Bulls. I didn’t get the floor done until just now, I sure find it hard to keep up with the work and to gab too. Mrs Dunne surely is lonely. She was so kind the other day, wish we could do something for her.
I hope they let us see you tomorrow, I’ll ask today. Get one of the nurses to phone if you want anything. I bought a white midday that was on sale at the Bay and I’ll send in this old red skirt of Sheila’s if you think you’d like it. I’ll buy some Dixie cups today and some milkshakes tomorrow if we get in in decent time. I went to see Glen MIller’s show yesterday and only stayed a few minutes, it was awful – such a relief to get outside and away from all the blaring horns and toothie idiots acting. Guess I’m just queer eh?
Well I must hurry and get ready for town. Dad has gone to Grand Valley and I don’t know where Marshall is but I wish he was cleaning the chick’s house.
My it will be good to see you again, it’s terrible when you can’t even write to us. Hope those measles are run out by now. Why does the 2nd floor always be the one to be quarantined so much?
We got your report card last night and it was very, very good. Congratulations. I am going to keep it and let Sheila see it before I take it back. I think Dad and I swill be going in on Tuesday to try and get a man.
Hope you are well and happy dear and improving every day in your exercises.
I was sitting in Tulip Room 2 with my girl waiting for a doctor appointment. I had left my phone in the car and was just sitting there when her phone buzzed. She looked down and casually said “the Queen is dead” and I promptly burst into tears.
A few minutes later we could hear two women talking about the Queen’s passing. We couldn’t make it all out but they were clearly upset and sharing some of their memories of her. When my doctor came into the room it was the first thing we spoke about and it turned out that it had been her processing the death.
Those of you who know me may remember that I fell madly in love with Lady Diana before she married Charles and my love and respect for the People’s Princess carries on today. I’ve also had a lot of respect and admiration for Queen Elizabeth. No matter the situation, she has always conducted herself like royalty, I’ve never heard anything bad said from her or about her (not saying there isn’t anything – but really if there is it must be fairly uncommon – her children are another matter).
Lately I’ve said that the only thing that would be worse than the Queen dying is him becoming king, and with that her becoming queen consort. Bleh. Mostly it’s just that I don’t like how they were dirty with Diana.
And it was pretty much the same thing my doctor said – she just said it with more kindness than I just did. Really upset about the Queen, but even more upset that she was going to now be called queen. Then we had a long and lovely talk about how much we both loved Princess Diana. Finally my girl understood what I was saying when I said that there were so many of us in my generation who loved the People’s Princess.
I’ve loved the Queen too – for all of my life. And I sure will miss her. I will miss her class and grace. I will miss the way she kind of reminded me of my Auntie Mary who is also gone, and who also made it to a lovely old age (95). I am grateful though that I was given the opportunity to process the information of her passing with an adult whom I trust and admire and respect. It was very meaningful to be able to share our memories of both the Queen and Princess Diana with each other.
This is first and foremost a happiness blog. 8.5 years ago in one of my darkest times I started looking for moments of happiness in my world. Sometimes it was really hard for me to find even one thing that made me happy in a day – often it was seeing Henry the Heron on my walks – but I made a point of continuing to seek a moment that brought me joy. Eventually my life started getting better and better. Then it got worse. Then it got better again. And so it goes with life. Up and down and sideways. But always back to happiness. My understanding of happiness has deepened and changed over the years, but at the end of the day – those things that bring a legitimate smile to my face are still moments of happiness.
Enter TikTok
Yes, I know- I’m too old for TikTok. My kids banned me from it for ages, just like they did with Snapchat. But at some point this summer TikTok found me and we have been friend ever since.
Good thing or else I wouldn’t know about 🎵corn🎵.
Even better (in my opinion) is Thumpasaurus and their song Struttin. Not only is their own video hilarious, but tons of other people are also posting their Struttin’ videos. And now every single morning the first thing I do when I get up is sit and watch a couple of Struttin’ videos and laugh and smile and then I’m ready for the day. Ok, sometimes I also watch some Corn videos, and that guy Max who spent all his money at Disney (gosh he’s funny).
Today I was able to make my own public happiness moment as Bear the Dog (who is very shy and generally stays off social media) gave me the perfect Struttin’ video. And so I have officially joined the world of TikTok as more than an observer – I am now a participant. Or I should say, Bear is.
The Sattvic Life 