HARMONY

 

A series of essays….

BETWEEN BOUTS OF TUSSLING AND THE SHEER FRENZY
OF ACTIVE PLAYTIME…THESE MOMENTS OF
HARMONY, BLISSFULLY, EXIST.

….as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

Harmony is the balance we seek within a world that has become so unstable, off kilter, and often, oppressive and dangerous. Harmony is a relationship in which various components exist together in peace. The harmonious framework of life that allows humans of all races, every species of bird and fish, all of the colors and sounds of a lush forest in summertime, to live in agreement with one another as a whole; congruity. It is the sweet spot in a musical composition that reminds us that things could be and have been different when all of the players are in cooperation with one another while playing any given piece; agreeable sounds that are consistent, orderly, and the pleasing arrangement of all its known parts.

It may seem to us that it’s only been recently that the world has become biased and unfairly prejudiced within its distorted judgment of right and wrong, good vs. evil, and its creation of a jaundiced viewpoint that leaves us with a bitter, cynical, and hostile environment in which to live. Let’s remind ourselves that there has always been, throughout the span of time, aggression; one individual or group that has denied others their right to live free and balanced by the outstretched hand of a harmonious state of being. Humankind has always been challenged by someone who desires to disrupt the positive balance of life through their greed, need for power, and general lack of scruples, or the logical motivation derived from ethical and moral principles.  Their exaggerated sense of self-importance, the ego, thrives within them casting its negativity across the land behind a self-righteous smokescreen of manipulative lies and falsehoods.

Harmony must be consciously sought-after and attained before the people of the world can exist without destroying one another.  It must become our priority and preemptive action before dealing with those who desire the disruption of peace in order to fulfill ancient and strong habits of annihilation and obtain power over others. As with different kinds of fish living in harmony in rivers, lakes, and streams, so must humankind understand that relationships are built on trust and the idea that various components can exist side-by-side in a harmonious fashion. It would be considered most prudent to pass all of our positive lessons on to the generations that follow with a strong emphasis on peace, mindfulness, and the sterling hope for a much more cooperative, kind, and loving world to live in. We can then, and only then, know the true meaning of living in harmony—for years to come. It can be done and it will be done. We Must Believe.

Copyright © 2022 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved

IN MY JOY

 

A series of essays….

THE EARTH’S EQUATOR IS ALIGNED DIRECTLY WITH 
THE SUN ON THE VERNAL EQUINOX

….as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

I am such a lucky person. I’m in my joy! Truly, I am! Nobody can take it from me. I keep telling myself this every day and it’s been well worth it. Hearing it often helps me know that it’s legitimate and that each day will hold new, interesting, and even great things for me to look forward to, contemplate and absorb. It’s all based on the natural blending of imagination and truth. Honestly, if we lose the magical touch of this powerful combination, we could be doomed as a human race and sentenced to a zombie-like existence like those being portrayed in many movies and comic books.

Last Monday afternoon we were swept-up in a whirlwind of blue milk caps, pieces of newsprint, and discarded medicine bottles (empty, of course) that were being tamed by a Lion Queen wielding a wooden chair and a bullwhip. It was explained that the reason ‘she writes’ is because her voice is not heard, and it certainly must be. A person requires two things in order to survive: harmony and buttonholes. The fact is that we, like the stars, are never, truly, finished. We can imagine through multiple scenarios the instant our parents met one another and danced together, sweet and slow. Finally, through a project that is affectionately called, Stickhenge, we learned that it’s possible to recreate Stonehenge, the only surviving lintelled stone circle in the world, with broomsticks and capture the March equinox in our own backyard using fortitude, scientific data, patience, and unequaled parts of imagination and truth. 

Interesting note: did you know that in the 1830’s until around 1850 in the United Kingdom, it was very popular to have females tame lions and tigers in a managerie or collection of captive animals for the purpose of entertainment? These ladies were known as Lion Queens.

That’s quite a bit of reassurance of our own worth and self importance tucked away in just a couple of hours on a sunny afternoon in late March! That’s what you get when eight ladies occupy their seats around a large table within a room that is part of one of the best independent bookstores I’ve ever known, Kazoo Books, located on Parkview Avenue in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Especially when, as a group, we had not met in person (only Zoom meetings) for way too many months. Believe me when I tell you that the conga line for giving and receiving hugs was joyful, and long overdue!

We are the Ladies of Voices, as I like to refer to us, or more accurately, Voices on the Margin, a poetry group that not only studies the lives of various poets near and far, but takes it one step further by writing our own poetry based upon their style and visage of life in general while giving thought toward the poet’s writing technique and/or subject matter of each work. Often our poets have engaged in other forms of writing, such as fiction or nonfiction essays and novels. Familiarizing ourselves with each individual, whether a contemporary or posthumously, female or male, encourages us to open ourselves up to ideas and challenges we may not have thought about before. 

Our inspiration for this day was the Detroit born poet and clinical psychotherapist in private practice, Ken Meisel, who is exceptionally interesting, especially among many of us who have lived, worked in, or even only visited the Detroit area. 

Initially, we cornered the market, so to speak, on women poet laureates including Carol Ann Duffy, Joy Harjo, Molly Fisk, Tracy K. Smith, and Natasha Trethewey. In the spirit of fair practice, we have studied the works of Jack Ridl, local writer, educator, and poet who has created several exceptional poetry editions that inspire us to learn more about the importance of our everyday life and then write about it—simply and honestly. 

The convenience of Zoom meetings has offered our group the ability to include local published poets and have them share their personal work, thoughts, and ideas, with us. Kathleen McGookey has published four books of prose poems and three chapbooks, most recently Instructions for My Imposter (Press 53) and Nineteen Letters(BatCat Press). She has also published We’ll See, a book of translations of French poet Georges Godeau’s prose poems. She has graced us with all of the charm and benevolence of the talented person she is by giving us an evening of talk, reading selected poems, and answering the questions of ‘would like to be published’ poets.

Because we, the Ladies of Voices, have scheduled a Zoom reading of our own poetry, soon, we have had to reach back into the archives and select five minutes worth of work to share with family and friends. In doing so, I was amazed by the many pieces I’d written and accumulated throughout the years! Many I had not read for months and it felt amazing to pull them back into the light, once again.

I am proud of all of us. We are in our joy and not a single person can take that away from us. To be a part of this group is to hold the future in our hands; sharing  with others how wonderful it is to learn and physically create entire worlds from our own imaginations, talk about them with each other, all the while educating our sensibilities via published writers who have gone through this process for years themselves.

If you haven’t already, may I suggest awakening your ‘Joy’ by joining a poetry or writing group. Maybe your thing is working with clay, dancing and singing, painting, cooking, or any other activity that makes you happy and might, just might, give you a new lease on life. Enjoy to the fullest extent whatever it is you choose to do!

Copyright © 2022 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved

ANTONE AND ALEXANDRIA

 

A series of essays….

MY UKRAINIAN GRANDPARENTS ON THEIR WEDDING DAY:
ANTONE AND ALEXANDRIA MOSHAK

….as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

Russian forces bombed a maternity and children’s hospital in Mariupol in southern Ukraine on Wednesday. Babies, pregnant mothers, women in labor were all inside! The attack came despite Russia agreeing to a 12-hour pause in hostilities. “How much longer will the world be an accomplice ignoring terror?” asks President Zelenskyy of Ukraine.

I believe that good gives everyone and all actions the benefit of the doubt while evil  immediately takes over, suffocates everything good with its lies and brute force, and removes all semblance of good and its imminent possibilities. Timing is everything, my friends. This is dedicated to the bold determination of the Ukrainian people!

At the beginning of this unprovoked, horrendous war orchestrated by Vladimir Putin, I sat listening to the Ukrainian negotiation delegation holding a press conference in Lviv with foreign and Ukrainian news media. My mind wandered back in time to my grandparents home in Mishawaka, Indiana and me asking questions about this rhythmic, Slavic language singsonging in my head; holding me hostage in the past and now, doing the same in the present.

THE HOME PAPA BUILT ON CEDAR STREET IN
MISHAWAKA. HE DUG OUT THE BASEMENT 
AND LAID EACH BRICK HIMSELF.

Antone and Alexandria. According to the sound of their names, they could have ruled their own Slavic nation and brought goodness into an evil world. Actually, after having twelve children plus enduring three miscarriages, they could have easily populated their little nation, as well.

Frustration at not being able to understand what my grandparents were saying to one another prompted me to ask my Papa Moshak to teach us, his grandchildren, the language he brought over from his homeland. Because he did not speak English well, he always hesitated to comply. Oh, how I wish he could have taught us this major part of our heritage! He had brought over language course books but told my Mother they were all in Russian, not Ukrainian. I didn’t know the difference. But, he certainly did. He told my mother that it was all he could grab before leaving his homeland for America.

We were given tantalizing bits and pieces here and there, for example: Give me a little kiss (дай мені трохи поцілунку), hush your mouth (заткни свій рот) this was usually accompanied by the contact of my mother’s foot on our shin under the dining table, I love you (я тебе люблю), which was, of course, the best one of all! 

Mother and her eleven siblings were not taught to speak Ukrainian either. Sadly, Ukraine was a place they all wanted to distance themselves from as they were Americans, born and bred. Papa and Grandma only reminded them of a life to run away from; one with no future possibilities, one best to leave behind.

MY MOTHER, OLGA, STANDING SECOND FROM
THE RIGHT IN THE SECOND ROW WITH MOST
OF HER SIBLINGS. I AM THE BABY SITTING 
ON MY GRANDMOTHER’S LAP.

As this complicated sounding language flowed from the TV into my head, I had to wonder what the difference is between the Ukrainian and Russian languages. Despite their similar origins, there have been enough factors to push these languages into their distinct branches today, including time, culture, and politics. Papa told us that the Ukrainian language was greatly influenced by the Polish language. Recently, through Ancestry.com, I’ve learned that the small village grandma grew up in, Strae, Ukraine, is located a short distance from the Ukrainian/Polish border. 

Grandma’s delicious dumplings, pedaheh, were our ultimate comfort food, filled with cheesy potatoes, or dried plums, or sauerkraut, they were similar to Polish pierogi but, lovingly made just for us by grandma. Her borscht was never my favorite meal with its sour taste, deep purple color, and dollop of sour cream on top. I remember crushing as many saltine crackers into it as possible to create something palatable and always under the scrutiny of grandma’s penetrating gaze.

Thinking about all of the things we’ve seen, learned about, discovered, wondered about, and often failed to discern in one human lifetime only makes me wonder even more about everything we know absolutely nothing about and may never learn within one go around on this fragile planet.

During his State of the Union Address, President Biden spoke about our veterans being exposed to burn pits; the toxic equivalent to Agent Orange during the war in Vietnam. The first I’d heard of burn pits was when our troops evacuated Afghanistan this past year. And, even then, I had to do some research to fully understand what was going on. I suppose it does make sense to destroy everything you’ve touched and utilized during the occupation of another country in order to erase your information and undermine its influence on your enemy. But, at what cost?

Isn’t Russia playing by its own rules in the attempt to destroy everything touched by the Ukrainians, especially the children,  in a blatant act of erasing them as people altogether?

What many veterans are having to live through now, with their health in jeopardy, is merely one true cost of war, I know. (Making mental lists as I type this article.) Having knowledge of the use of burn pits, even after the fact, has enlightened many of us to the hazards of war created by the one institution that should always have the welfare of all of its people in mind—the Federal Government. As Commander in Chief, President Biden is introducing a bill to aid all veterans suffering from the lasting affects of burn pits.

As this unprovoked war on the kind people of this beautiful country of Ukraine wages on, many of us who have this noble blood flowing through us intensely react to their deep pain and sorrow. We pray for ultimate reasoning and fundamental peace to emerge from the ashes of this nonsensical conflict. May the uncompromising spirit of the president of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, spread its strength across the nation as he displays both bravery and media savvy during the Russian invasion.

VOLODYMYR ZELENSKYY
PRESIDENT OF UKRAINE
A TRUE WAR HERO

Now, I don’t know if Antone and Alexandria, my Ukrainian grandparents, ever stepped foot in the historic and beautiful cities of Kyiv, the capital city, or Odessa (Odesa), the port city on the Black Sea in southern Ukraine. I hope they did. They were both born and raised in separate villages that bordered on Poland and were quite a distance from the capital city of Ukraine. Leaving your small village to travel around your own country was considered a luxury and one not readily available to all Ukrainian citizens. By the time they both escaped the terror reigned upon them during the Bolshevik Revolution beginning in November of 1917 and led by Vladimir Lenin, whose regime would soon create the first communist country called the U.S.S.R., they met one another in the United States. Each escaping the terror of their homeland in order to create a better life here, they married and raised a large family in upstate Indiana.

Olga, my mother, was the kindest most sensitive parent any child could have and with her fiery red hair framing porcelain skin sprinkled with sun kissed freckles, she epitomized the ‘Daughter of Ukraine’ in so many ways. When grandma passed at the early age of fifty-six, my mother lost her best friend; her true tie to the land she would never visit.

VLADIMIR LENIN, FORMER PREMIER AND
DICTATOR OF THE SOVIET UNION

Photo courtesy of The Guardian

Given the current war instigated by yet another brutal Russian dictator, as well as the many conflagrations foisted upon the Ukrainian people during, as well as since she and Papa fled to the west, Alexandria could explain to my mother firsthand the important role that the western countries of Europe have taken in aiding refugees fleeing Ukraine. Olga could learn, via her own parents, how history constantly repeats itself. 

Now is not the time to let up; Putin must fail. Since the end of the Cold War, we took our eyes off the ball and allowed people to harm one another, again. This time around we are defending democracy and the right of an independent nation to embrace the freedoms they had worked so hard to obtain. 

Will this latest war open up our own eyes to the possibility of losing something as precious as our own democratic beliefs? Will it help to pull our country together and make us understand how important our freedoms truly are? What is Putin’s endgame? These are the questions we should be asking. I see a lonely, confused, and desperate man seated at the end of one of his long tables in the Kremlin.

Yes, I wish I had been taught how to speak the Ukrainian language by my grandparents, if only to bring me that much closer to a heritage that I am so proud to be a part of. As my distant cousins, perhaps sleeping in metro stations and basements in an attempt to survive another day, hold their children close as they wipe away their tears, my arms are opened wide letting them know it will be okay; we are here for you.

ST. ANDREW’S CHURCH -
KYIV, UKRAINE

 

Courtesy: Art, Culture, and Civilization

Believing in Antone and Alexandria keeps hope alive. There is a stronger, better world that will outshine the rocket’s red glare and bombs crushing the life from the Ukrainian people today. However, their spirit, so far, remains intact and we must all help to keep it this way until the monster hiding under the bed (behind the Kremlin walls) is defeated!

I thank you, Grandma and Papa, for your courage so long ago. The darkness and shame people carry having to leave a place in fear for reasons of self preservation surely must have been eased by your love for your children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. We feel blessed by your courage every day of our lives.

The more love you put out in the world, the more you get back..

WITH LOVE TO UKRAINE
AND HER AMAZING PEOPLE!

Copyright © 2022 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved