Old Year, New Year; Cold Year, Blue Year

A knock on my door.  I sat, shrouded with doubt, and out from this clouded-head phase, I emerged.  Unlikely, yet, he had tracked my movement above earth and ocean to an old place where the cool damp air invades and seeps in and permeates the spaces inside us and the hollow in our bones. 

I looked for his eyes, which, under hair and hat and furrowed brow, told me of grief and the hurt of betrayal and a greeting so sweet after a year without meeting.

So much has changed.  So little has changed. The ink only darkens. The old and the new, we met again. I handed him my carefully kept secret. We exchanged papers, and so marked the tradition seconds before he was out my door into the inclement air of England.

I dream and resolve.

1. Do not compare self to others.  Journeys through life are not the same.

2. Travel more by myself in Europe.

3. "Everything is permissible for me," but not everything is beneficial. "Everything is permissible for me," but I will not be mastered by anything.”

4. Patience for things to come.

5. Improve communication. Observe, wait, listen.

6. Tithe in an organised manner.

7. Improve French language skills.

8. Finish this season well. Transition well into the next. 

Brave New Year

There exist various tips for composing resolutions for a new year. A fashionable word of advice cautions thinkers to formulate explicit, measurable goals that can be monitored and met. This certainly suits my thought-patterns as a woman of the world of science. And so I set out. Two to five reasonable goals for the year. I dipped into ink, brought tip to paper, and- Oh! Three taps at my door.

A few hushed words between us and then the man at my door departed. As I opened the carefully folded paper, Mr. Guthrie’s resolutions for a brave new 1943 reminded a heart to want more than the clinician’s guide to another year of dusty bones. So, as we do on the old and the new, the man and I cherished our custom. Local and grand. We dream of so much.

1. Move to England (or equivalent)
2. Wait patiently for all things that require waiting
3. Ask more questions to God
4. Discontinue unprofitable behaviours                                                                                                All things are permissible for me, but not all things are good for me to do. I can do anything, but to nothing will I become a slave

5. Write more poetry and prose
6. Take risks
7. Pay off loan
8. Seek to experience what is real and the truth rather than anything fleeting or only perceived
9. Be active
10. Eat well
11. Invite people to talk over food and drink
12. Listen better
13. Speak words of affirmation of purpose and good qualities into people’s lives
14. Be more honest
15. Work out unbelief
16. Create
17. Be an amazing clinician  
18. Be grateful
19. “Take smaller bites of what it is that you want to be”
20. “Learn to listen all over again and have a clean slate of dreaming”

Flesh and blood

It was the summer of 2011, and I was fully immersed in an exploratory journey into the nature of jellies. I was a crime scene investigator and the ocean was the scene of the crime. Not only were jellyfish the subject of my work, but they soon became an icon of inspiration in my life. Not soon after I began my journey with the fascinating non-polyps of the phylum Cnidaria, it became clear to me what the animals really were. Jellyfish- gellatinous mushroom-cap umbrellas over streamers on a gentle-wind day; their stingers like candy jube jubes glued to spagetti arms. A skin sac over gummy-bear innards, their structure not unlike the fluid-filled sacs found in a segment of an orange. (Next time you bite into an orange, ponder the hundreds of tiny jellyfish held in its flesh). I have always loved my career as a researcher of marine life, but this new project seemed different. The jellies drew me in- each pulsation of their fluid bodies, a siren's call to my open ears. So what did I discover about the jellies? Some might say they are my power animal. I don't believe in power animals, but I will continue to ponder them like a chef ponders a fine Dutch cheese in preparation for a grilled cheese sandwich challenge.

tragic jelly discovery

Today, my co-researcher, aquatic-life biologist Hannah Jacobs, and I made a startling discovery. There exists, among the jagged rocks of the Halifax shoreline, a jelly graveyard of sorts. A place where jellies go at the end of their roads....a place where the corpses of jellies float aimlessly and tossed by every slosh of the water into the rocks....

RIP jellies.....

research update

Last weekend, I traveled to the shores of Charlottetown, PEI, accompanied by world renown marine biologist Marsha Lannan and ecologist Malcolm MacDonald. To our delight, we discovered a new species of jellyfish, the purple marble murples. To test the agility of this species, Malcolm and I threw small stones at the jellies. We were unable to successfully aim our stones to land on any of the jellies, but subjective impressions lead us to believe that these jellies are fit to survive vicious attacks from other species. More details to come. 

research DAY 1

On Saturday,
my new friend and co-researcher, Hannah, and I traveled a great distance to the shores of Halifax, Nova Scotia. We were on a mission: to witness and study the miracle of jellyfish birth. As aquatic-life biologists, who study micro-organisms, plants, and animals living in water, we felt compelled to lend our expertise to this event. We were joined by world renown marine biologist and ecologist Marsha Lannan and Malcom MacDonald. Details to follow.

 
Emily