Helping is Medicine.

As I type, twin blue captain’s beds are being delivered for boys that we will soon be hosting from Ukraine. On my messenger feed, another ambassador is typing about an emergency situation at an airport, where the documentation is being questioned. The family has no more money for alternate flights.

Outside, the chickadee sings “yoo-hoo” reminding me that Spring is here. The dogs curl up, one beside me and the other on a chair opposite.

This is how my days go now; activity always buzzing on the periphery.

Eight years, I lived in near solitude and constant quiet, wiling away my days writing, or painting, or photographing nature. Now, the paints are tucked away and the camera sits idle, and I spend my day communicating with people in neighbouring Ukraine and at home, trying to facilitate a connection that might offer a ray of hope.

I am mentally and emotionally drained, and I am ever so grateful to be able to help.

As Mother Teresa said: “We cannot do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”

(Image mine)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

22 thoughts on “Helping is Medicine.

  1. Blessings on you, VJ – & Ric & the dogs. I can only imagine the stress involved with approvals and logistics first – and then adjusting to incoming personalities/needs. You are incredibly generous. And a model for loving-giving w/o any clue to potential returns. I am encouraged by your reaching out – thank you for sharing here.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. You point to something so elemental in this post – that we can both be incredibly grateful for the work we do in life and drained by it as well. I hope you get some time to fill your tank so that you can continue to do all the amazing things you do for this world, including painting and photography!

    Liked by 2 people

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