Category Archives: Deep Thoughts

Imbolc Poetry Web 2009!

Every year on February 2 a web of poetry winds its way through the Internet in honour of Brighid, the Celtic goddess associated with inspiration and poets. This year’s invitation is here, reproduced on blogs and journals across the world; the original blogger who began the annual tradition says of it, “Why? Some poetry is warming. It cracks the ice in the heart of the Earth to remind her that spring is just around the corner. Or … if you live south of the equator, choose poetry to cool the heart of the Earth so as to remind her fall is coming.” The blog that first introduced me to the poetry web and reminds me of it annually is Pandora’s Ephemera Ephemerae.

Brid is the goddess to whom I am sworn, and that’s probably not a surprise for those who know how much music, writing, and art mean to me. I figured she would be much too obvious and so I looked everywhere else when starting on my spiritual path, until I realised that Brid was bashing me on the head with the proverbial Divine clue by four. I love participating in this poetry web every year. The idea of poems, pictures in words that capture something emotional that prose handles very differently, twining throughout the Internet enchants me.

This is my poetry offering this year.

    It was a hard thing to undo this knot.
    The rainbow shines but only in the thought
    Of him that looks. Yet not in that alone,
    For who makes rainbows by invention?
    And many standing round a waterfall
    See one bow each, yet not the same to all,
    But each a hand’s breadth further than the next.
    The sun on falling waters writes the text
    Which yet is in the eye or in the thought.
    It was a hard thing to undo this knot.

    ~1862, Gerard Manley Hopkins
    “It was a hard thing to undo this knot”

Do you have a poem you’d like to share? A favourite? Something that speaks to your soul right now for some reason? Or perhaps something you’ve written yourself? Take the invitation and spread it far and wide, with joy. For the web of poetry to be connected in cyberspace as well as the world and our hearts, all I ask is that you link back to this post and to the original invitation to help others find it. If you post a poem, leave a comment here with a link to it (if you can, yes, I know there are issues with the comment box not being available off and on), and leave a comment with a link to it at the other poetry posts you read today, too, in order to help weave the web. Enjoy exploring the poetry by following the links you find.

Have a blessed and healing Imbolc, Gentle Readers. The flame in our hearts burns steadily against the coldness of the world. Every poem, every new word set down lights another candle against the darkness.

In Which She Works Through Some Issues

This morning we had an awesome, awesome brunch chez Adam and Karine. The term ‘groaning table’ was invented solely for this morning’s repast. We got there, the boys all ran upstairs and played on their own, we were given excellent coffee and had the blissful experience of having adult conversation while the three boys played elsewhere. Absolutely lovely. I love that the boy is at an age where he can be trusted to play elsewhere with others and not require constant checking-in. We knew things had gone well when the boy broke down when it was time to go, and said at random tearful intervals all the way home, “I want to go back to Samuel and Matthieu’s house now.”

But this post is mostly about last night’s cello lesson.

Holy cello lesson of technical adjustments, Batman! “It may not feel like you’re making progress,” my teacher said reassuringly, “but when all this stuff is done you’ll just fly.” And I know I am making progress, because as I clean up one thing another becomes apparent (either caused by the adjustment or revealed hiding behind it) that needs to be addressed. It’s like following a trail of Smarties to a really big prize of some kind.

Speaking of really big prizes: This 7/8 looks like it very well could be The One. It’s the best one I’ve tried out of all seven so far. It’s a bit richer and more intimate than the one I’ve got. Mine is clearer and has better projection (how could it not, it’s freaking humongous, of course the bigger soundbox projects more!), which, if I was playing solo in halls, would be better. But realistically I’m not going to be doing that, am I. The more velvety 7/8 is fine for chamber and orchestral section music. And overall, if it’s in this good a shape now, after a year or so of playing it will have opened up even more. The only problems my teacher confirmed were that (a) the C sting lacks a proper balance with the rest of the strings, (b) the C string lacks quick response, and (c) if the projection could be improved just a wee bit that would be nice, too. (So nice to have my initial assessment of the instrument supported. Go me!) A bit of adjustment plus a different C string would probably do it; she sent me home with a couple of different strings from her hoard to try. She’s going to talk to the luthier about it this week when she goes in to pick up her bow that’s been repaired. The only problem I’ve found otherwise (and just now, yikes) is a too-far-down cut made in the table where the neck is set in; I’m worried it might carry on down the front as a crack. We’ll see what they say.

I played it for my entire lesson. Never even touched my own. This has happened all week in practise, too.

I also had something confirmed for me. My teacher was playing a passage on first the 7/8 then on my 4/4, and I liked both the sounds but in a different way. And she said, “Honestly? You’d have to spend a lot of money to find a 7/8 equivalent in sound production to your cello.” Now, this is something I’ve suspected more and more through this process. My cello is a surprisingly good cello. People with more experience than I do tell me it has excellent tone and projection and balance and is very easy to play. Plus it has had forty years to mellow and develop. It’s just a tad too big for me. And now that the possibility of buying a new 7/8 is becoming more and more real, I’m clinging irrationally to it. Is buying a new 7/8 a bad step? No, not at all; I’m just worried it’s an unnecessary one. Yes, it’s a better quality cello taken in the grand scheme of things, but do my current needs, or those of the near future, require the higher quality cello? Honestly, probably not. Will the 7/8 be better for me technically than the oversize 4/4? Maybe. Might my fibro require a smaller cello in the future? Possibly. Is the oversize 4/4 holding me back? I won’t know until I start playing something else, will I.

Yes, I’m wibbling. Badly. All the shopping and research was fun, but the big step of buying it is so fraught with responsibility. It won’t be a bad investment. It’s just a lot of money for a maybe. (On the other hand, I’ve just remembered that this is temporary anyway; the real upgrade in quality will come with the repair of the Mystery Cello some years down the line when my cousin and I have the money. So there, wibbling. This isn’t the end of the line; this is a step in the correct size direction. Stop second-guessing yourself about this nebulous thing called ‘quality.’ Do you like the sound? Yes. Is it better or worse than the one you’ve got? Neither, really; it’s different. Is it a complete loss of money? No, because resale value will be high, and you’ll probably succeed in selling your current 4/4 anyway at some point. So.)

On top of all that, I feel like I’m cheating on my 4/4. I feel like I’m being disloyal to fifteen very, very good years.

Argh!

As an aside: My teacher pulled out the bow that came with the 7/8 kit and said, “Aren’t you going to play with this?” “No,” I said, “it’s dull and stiff.” “That’s odd,” she said, “they’re usually a bit springier than wooden bows.” “Oh, no, this isn’t carbon fibre,” I said, “it’s fibreglass.” “Fibreglass? Why didn’t you ask for something good? When you take things home on trial you can be like a kid in a candy store: ‘I’ll take one of those, and one of those, and maybe some of this…”. Duly noted. Because eventually, I’m going to need to replace this cracked bow, too….

2008 In Review

Things I Did In 2008 That I Have Never Done Before:

– finished, submitted, and handled the edits on my fifth book (there is only one fifth!)
– received only SIX edits/queries on that book
– took up cello lessons for the second time, after a ten-year hiatus (there is only one second time!)
– knitted not one but THREE complete objects
– wrote a synopsis and outline for a YA novel in one afternoon
– then pretty much finished writing that YA novel within six months once I started
– joined not one but two social networking/contact sites (Facebook and Ravelry, to add to last year’s Shelfari and Last.fm)
– started shopping for a new cello, something that is going to take me years to do before I find The One
– voluntarily left my former luthier and moved to a new one, with whose services I am very happy indeed
– headlined a Pagan festival as a special guest along with Serena Fox of Circle Sanctuary and presented a workshop on an intro to hearthcraft
– adopted a kitten from the Animal Rescue Network (that’s for the ARN thing, because I have certainly adopted kittens before)
– baked my own bread for an entire year (thirteen months if we count from when I started, which was November 2007)
– gave a guest lecture at the university level
– made a specific trip to meet someone I met via the Internet
– performed a handfasting for two of my dearest friends (yes, I’ve done a legal wedding, but this was a purely spiritual ceremony)
– performed a baby naming/blessing ceremony for another set of dearest friends, the subject of the ceremony being my second godsdaughter
– stopped using shampoo entirely (having a baby did wacky things to my body chemistry, and while some things were good, the uber-sensitivity my scalp developed to sodium laurel/laureth sulfate was the worst; I now use a silicone-free mild conditioner with the occasional baking soda/water mix instead, and my hair is happier, too)

Things I Did in 2008 That I Am Proud Of:

All of the above, plus:

– performing in my second “public” cello recital ever (“public” is in quotation marks because it was for a bunch of people I don’t know, but was in a private venue)
– cutting my hair to above-shoulder length after having it very long for years and years
– joining a new RPG for the first time in, um, a number of years that I do not remember
– teaching myself a new hobby/skill (knitting!)

Good Things About 2008:

– meeting Bodhifox in person at the Fearsranch and proving beyond any doubt that he is a kindred spirit
– the boy being accepted part-time into a wonderful preschool (and subsequently coming home counting in French, singing songs I have not taught him, and bearing lots of art not proposed or initiated by me!)
– discovering the novels of Barbara Cleverly
– joining the local library, thereby cutting down my book purchasing
– the loan of the Mystery Cello from my cousin, the turn of the century German cello that requires about 5K$ worth of repair before it is restored to a playable state
– meeting Brendan Myers and having dinner in Old Montreal with him and other like-minded souls
– meeting Serena Fox at the Hamilton PPD 2008
– a fabulous co-coven spiritual retreat at Samhain, so awesome that there are now three planned per year instead of one
– the resolution of the ongoing tension with the unbalanced downstairs neighbour: She voluntarily moved out! The entire building is much, much happier and more secure
– a lot of spending has been curtailed/refined/refocused: We make all our own bread and take-out has returned to a real once-in-a-while special treat
– a good crop of veggies harvested from the garden (not enough to last the winter — not even half a month, actually, but the thought is there)
– being diagnosed with fibromyalgia (you may think that would be a Bad Thing, but having that diagnosis was a very good thing because it clarified so much, gave me a plan for dealing with it, and allowed me to move forward)
– adopting Gryffindor and seeing him and the boy romp together
– two dear friends giving birth to lovely little girls!

Like last year I’m sure there’s more, of course; a lot of this year was good. But these are what stand out in my memory. Possibly more than anything else I am more thankful for my friends, appreciative of them and their strengths, proud of their accomplishments and successes, and love spending time with them. This is light-years beyond my enochlophobia and agoraphobia of previous years. I’ve become a lot more comfortable with myself, and trust myself more. I’ve also further refined my stop-spending-time-with-people-who-drain-me technique, with excellent benefits to my psyche and physical health.

Not-So-Good Things About 2008:

– my very dearest and oldest cat Maggie went to the Summerlands after seventeen years of love and companionship
– the pregnancy book was cut from the fall publishing lists and is on hold indefinitely
– losing Emru to leukaemia
– learning that the repairs of the Mystery Cello would require over 5K$, which shelved the project indefinitely
– ongoing financial balancing (the credit line is still looming over us, but everything else is okay)

How Did I Do With My 2008 Wishes?

– Rediscover my CD collection

Er, well. At least I didn’t bring a whole bunch of new ones into the house and ignore the old ones. This year everything kind of languished. I’d cull except every time I look at the CDs to sort through them I remember exactly what’s on each one and know that I might want to listen to it someday. Argh. My CD buying has really, really dropped off sharply in the past few years because I don’t hang out in music stores any more, nor do I go see movies and become enchanted by their scores.

– Make time for practising my spirituality in a more aware fashion

Not so much. It’s not that I’ve lost what I had, just that I did want to make a specific effort to do more things with awareness, and I didn’t get there.

– Make a stronger commitment to practising the cello

We have a winner! I mean really, how much more serious does it get? I’m taking lessons again after a ten-year hiatus, and still sitting second chair in orchestra. I am very, very proud of this particular resolution and how it has manifested.

– Let up on the second-guessing of the decisions I make, and the self-doubt I feel about my work

Still chipping away at this one, but it’s going to be an ongoing thing till the end of my life. I do feel a lot more confident about my ability in general, but I still have those slippery moments of Oh gods this sucks and why am I trying? I’m trying because it’s a first draft, and the subtlety can be woven in later.

– Remember frequently that I am a wonderful, kind, talented person

Not sure about this one. I got a lot better at saying If someone has a problem with this/that, then that’s their issue, which kind of connects to this wish because I don’t expend as much energy worried about what people think of me. I have definitely gotten better at telling myself that I or what I do is cool when it is. I still can’t accept a compliment gracefully, and I still dismiss too much of what people say about me when it’s nice things. I am getting better at being happy and/or satisfied with myself and I what I do, though.

– Focus my time so that I don’t waste as much of it

Lists have been my very best friend this year. Learning how to say no now that I understand how to manage my energy thanks to the fibro has helped immensely, too.

– Take up formal study of another spiritual path to complement the ones I already practise

Yes, but not in the way I’d expected/planned to go. This ended up being a focus on Germanic spirituality instead of Druidism. There’s time enough for it all in my life.

– Take care of my body so that the chronic pain thing doesn’t negatively impact my life, as it’s beginning to once again (I’m hoping it’s the damp and the cold that’s made it increasingly bad over the past month)

Another winner! Having a firm medical diagnosis of fibromyalgia went a long, long way to understanding how my body was working and how to deal with it.

Wishes for 2009:

– Further refine and develop my cello skills
– Finish and polish and start querying Orchestrated
– Keep on writing
– Start making all our own pasta
– Plant, harvest, and preserve more vegetables from the garden
– Save more money (I did end 2008 with a nice balance in the bank but it’s earmarked for cello stuff in the future, and while it sits there it collects interest, hurrah!)

========

If I had to assign a value to 2008, I’d say that again, it’s been an overall good year. Looking back at 2007 I see that I didn’t note much about how tense it was financially for us and how much of an effect that had on our day to day life and relationships within the family. That stress was much less present this year, and HRH and I have done a lot of repair on our own relationship. Things are certainly better than they were last year, for which I am very, very thankful. In 2007 my default mood was frustrated and tense; in 2008 I learned to let that go, both through the understanding that stressing just creates more stress, and as a result of things getting better job-wise for HRH and the general financial situation easing. Of course, with the market plunging as it is and the publishing industry closing doors and freaking out quietly behind them, I will likely not sell another book for a few years, but my freelance work keeps a steady trickle coming in.

May 2009 be even better for us all!

First Post Of 2009!

I spent last night in the company of a few good friends, eating excellent food, drinking very good wine, with cats about and a lovely fire in the fireplace, and it was Very Good Indeed. If one takes the first minute of the new calendar year as an augury of sorts for the coming year as a whole, then I will be laughing and comfortable and thankful for the good things in life in 2009. And that’s just fine with me.

In his wishes for the new year Neil Gaiman said something wonderful and beautiful and inspirational, and it is worth quoting here:

…I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you’ll dream dangerously and outrageously, that you’ll make something that didn’t exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked, and that you will have people to love and to like in return. And, most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now), that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind.

A good rule of thumb for this and every year: Be wise. Be kind. Love. Make things. And always, always dream big.

Resigned

I’ve just written, translated, and sent off the regretful decline of the reconstruction quote for the Mystery Cello. I’ve been putting it off because I haven’t wanted to formally call an end (albeit temporary) to the dream. But it’s been a month (not that I intended to let it languish that long in my inbox, dear god, where did November go? scratch that, where did 2008 go?) and it’s irresponsible to let the affair drag on any longer.

So I wrote a thank you and and an explanation of why we had to wait, and reinitialized my search for a 7/8. I should put my 4/4 up for sale as well to free up more money, but I’m enjoying the sound it makes in my lessons and I’m clingy when it comes to things like big resonant instruments that have been my companion for fifteen years. My teacher has assured me that if it sells before I’ve found a new one I can use the cello she still has from before she bought the beautiful one she uses now, which is lovely and mind-boggling but somehow I doubt I’ll be caught without one. I see the same celli up for sale online all the time. I also have no idea what to ask price-wise for the one I’ve got. I’ll talk to the luthier when I’m next in. I just wish I didn’t feel like I’d killed something heartlessly.

Anyway, I am consoling myself with, and actually beginning to revive my interest in, trying 7/8s again. In the meantime my teacher has somehow suckered me into playing a solo at the Christmas recital in three weeks. I suspect I agreed because she proposed it so nicely (in the “possessing, marked by, or demanding great or excessive precision and delicacy” definition) and didn’t make me feel like I was being railroaded into it. What I wanted to ask, but didn’t because I am shy and despite the fact I’ve played with her for seven years I’ve only been her student for a month, was who else was soloing and what were they playing. Because I’m doing a Bach minuet, and part of me is relieved because I played these things thirteen years ago, and another part is mildly squirmy because they’re in the Suzuki level 2 book, for heaven’s sake. I was playing sonatas before I stopped lessons before. Mind you I’ve lost a hell of a lot of decent sound production and technique since then, so these are reacquainting me with the basics, but still. Not that the people in the senior’s residence will care. They will be too busy being charmed by the six year old playing Suzuki book 1 pieces on her tiny cello .

Speaking of the six year old, my teacher told me yesterday that her next-door neighbour has a four year old who is obsessed with music and wants lessons. Generally the idea about children and lessons is not to bother until they can read (something about their ability to organize the info they take in, and I suspect so as not to utterly crush the joy they have in spontaneous music) but she knows that Sparky is also excited about the idea of music lessons, so he can play the cello like Mama does. So she has proposed that the two boys come to the group lesson on Sunday to see what it’s like. Our group lesson is divided into two halves, the younger students for the first hour, then a short social thing, and then the adults have an hour of group lesson. The boys would observe the younger group lesson, and if they are still as excited about things she’d think about maybe having a special series for them to learn about rhythm and other pre-formal lesson skills. She mentioned that the McGill Conservatory has a Very Little Musicians program that might do as well.

I told Liam about this Very Special Invitation last night and he was very excited. His first question was, of course, “What’s the little boy’s name?” “I didn’t ask,” I said. “I forgot that it would be important to you. I’ll ask when I see my teacher tomorrow at dress rehearsal.” So he went around for the rest of the evening telling his father and the cats that he and ‘the little boy’ would be watching a cello lesson. We’ll have to talk about proper etiquette and such tomorrow, both for the concert and the lesson the next day. The tentative plan for Sunday is to explain why he needs a slightly early nap and for HRH and I to bring him to the young group lesson, after which the boys can take off to the Thomas layout bookstore while I have my adult group lesson. If he’s unbearable after having attended the concert Saturday night we can call it off, and there’s always the option of HRH whisking him away from the lesson if he can’t sit quietly.

I looked at the calendar yesterday and realised that there was a Wednesday rehearsal, my lesson on Thursday, a dress rehearsal tonight, the concert on Saturday, and the group lesson on Sunday. Good grief. I’m also mildly freaked out about the amount of work that has to happen between now and Wednesday, because I’m teaching a real-live university class on Monday morning (subject: Neo-paganism, and I have an eight-page lecture outline and the dreadful feeling that I’m going to demonstrate an Epic Fail by somehow being unprepared… I always feel like there’s no good way to make the info flow logically) and have a coffee/lunch date on Tuesday and an assignment due for the evaluations Wednesday which is only about 30K words but revolves around examples drawn from Biblical stories and quotations so I’m going to be flipping through a Bible as I do it, which will slow things down.

Back to the cello stuff. I’m liking the sound that I’m (sometimes) producing in my lessons. It’s a bit of a juggling act because I have to remember things about my bow hand, my right elbow, my shoulders, the left wrist and elbow that we’ve been working on, and then all the usual technical music stuff too. But there was a point in yesterday’s lesson where I sounded good, and where I could hear and feel the vibration of the bow across the string in all the right ways. It feels sometimes like I’m not grasping very basic things, but things are improving in general at orchestra thanks to the new awareness I have of my body and how it moves, so there’s hope.

Weekend Roundup

Things are moderately insane here, and there’s a lot of stuff that’s being shifted lower on the list of priorities. Bear with me if I owe you a reply about something via e-mail or a phone call or blog post or something. In the meantime here’s a very brief overview of the last three days for my own records.

Friday Ceri and Phnee came over for a long-anticipated day of writing/crocheting/knitting. I haven’t laughed that hard in ages. I somehow managed to get a thousandish words written, which mystifies me because I’m fairly certain I spent most of my time talking about books and yarn and spontaneously rewriting TMBG songs to be about knitting instead of Advil. And eating. Dear gods, the food. Not that we planned to eat piles of it, just that it was pretty steady. Phnee baked muffins ( “These are delicious,” I said. “They should be,” she said, “they’re your recipe.”) and brought biscuit dough to bake on-site. Ceri brought tea sandwiches for lunch, two kinds of preserves (OMG the carrot cake preserve that I wanted to eat with a spoon), and there was baguette and baked Brie with onion confit and pots and pots of tea. The only shadow upon the day was that Phnee’s laptop decided to turn its nose up at the perfectly good electricity here at the palace.

Friday night HRH and Jeff H. shared a rental van to bring the rest of the bunk bed pieces home and move our no-longer-being-used double dresser to chez Jeff and Airea. Saturday morning HRH and Liam built the bunk beds (and I’m not kidding, the boy actually did help move the mattress and the base through the hall and into his room, and helped screw things together) and there is now a pirate ship construction site lion cage tree house in Liam’s room. I felt like death on toast, so I kind of dragged myself around and stayed out of their way. Saturday afternoon I had a strings-only rehearsal so I dragged myself to that. Managed not to embarrass myself, despite not being wholly there in mind or body. Came home, had a hot bath, rested, reheated homemade pizza for dinner, and then once the boy was in bed we headed out for Emru’s visitation. One never knows what to expect regarding visitations or funerals, but any uncertainty was immediately dispelled as soon as we stepped into the memorial complex. There was upbeat music playing, and people laughing and chatting. The family we spoke with were all equally upbeat, and the whole event really was the celebration of Emru that it couldn’t help but be. He had been dressed in a beautiful white dashiki with exquisite white embroidery around the collar and down the yoke, and a lovely black and white woven cloth of African design was draped over the lower half of the casket. (Perhaps slightly irreverent thought: I’d forgotten how darn tall Emru was.) We met all sorts of people and ended up being among the last to leave. On the way home HRH and I talked about how we really didn’t know much about what the other wanted regarding death arrangements, and discovered that we pretty much intuited the basics anyhow. It’s something we need to think about properly, though, especially now that we have a child. (HRH, of course, isn’t difficult at all: there’s a pond, and there will be a glorious fire, and several days of drinking and loud music of various kinds. Most of us know this. Mine’s similar.)

Sunday I woke up feeling a bit less like death on toast. I mostly worked on the programme notes for the upcoming concert while HRH and the boy played in the construction site tree house. With this new bed the furniture has been rearranged a bit and his toys now live in the two drawers under the lower bunk, so we’ve eliminated the shelves that used to hold his toy bins. Now the room has a very play/activity feel to it, what with the multi-purpose upper bunk (which doesn’t have a mattress on it and will soon have a set of those interlocking foam pieces to make it a bit more comfy), the easel, and the craft table. He has decided that he should be listening to his music while he’s in there, so his CDs have been moved into his room. He’s been playing there instead of in the living room, which is great because it means HRH and I can now relax in the living room when we need to rather than being dragged into the boy’s play. Mid-morning we had our usual pancake brunch, then we went out to buy the boy a play tool set because he’d had so much fun helping HRH build the bed and move the pictures and shelf on his wall. I kept working on the programme notes, which I finally finished last night; I just need to translate them today. I made candles while the boys watched Toy Story and used up the last of my vegetable/soy wax; I’ll need more before Yule. After dinner we had a concert where the boy played the drum and HRH and I alternately got the little xylophone thing and the bells to play and I laughed so much that I cried.

In bed last night I finished Thornyhold (why have I not read this novel before? Oh, right, because I went through my Mary Stewart phase in late high school, before it had been written), read the first quarter of Snake Agent, and wrote a thousand words. It didn’t feel like I did a lot yesterday but apparently I did.

Today: Translating, and doing the first half of my next evaluation assignment. And hopefully some writing, because I’m feeling behind and I really don’t want to lose the momentum of the past two weeks.

Good Night, Emru

Just before 22h00, not long after many of us had focused on sending healing and peaceful energy to be used in whatever way was best at this point, Emru passed away.

I was tight and angry and lashing out at everything yesterday, so HRH captained our ritual. And he opened with a plea to the gods for peace in whatever form was best that made all my anger burn into tears. He named Emru a son, a brother, a father, a husband, a friend, a leader, a teacher, a communicator, a warrior, and by any name a good man. He was all that, and more.

Good night, Emru. Thank you for everything you did for us. Even in your illness you found the good, and turned it into an opportunity to educate and benefit others. You encouraged us all to be better people, and you will be sadly, sadly missed.

The fight continues.

From the very start Emru and his sister Tamu have turned this situation into a drive to raise awareness and teach people about bone marrow transplants and encourage people to list themselves on their country’s bone marrow registry. Cultural minorities in North America (and indeed, worldwide) are particularly under-represented on these registries, a fact that the Townsend siblings have targeted as their main focus.

Emru is only one of millions of people who needs bone marrow transplants to deal with a variety of illnesses and conditions. The most important issue at the moment is that we continue to educate, myth-bust, and spread information about the importance of adding your name to the bone marrow registry of your country. Emru is only one man; there are thousands and thousands of people out there who still need a bone marrow transplant to save their lives. Keep the HealEmru.com link circulating; keep mentioning it to everyone you meet. The majority of racial groups are still under-represented, and that’s not going to change overnight.

Emru’s been blogging his journey and treatment, and it makes for sober but enlightening reading. I am proud of all my friends for a variety of reasons, but Emru and Tamu Townsend are stars. They have tirelessly worked for this cause and given so much of themselves. The campaign may be called Heal Emru, but Emru’s name stands for every single individual who is struggling with an illness and needs a donor for stem cells, bone marrow, or peripheral cell transplant.

The HEal Emru FAQs answer some of the common questions people have about bone marrow donation.
The Heal Emru site lists contact information for registries around the world.

Prayer and good thoughts while Emru has his surgery today are good things (likewise during the recovery period while the transplant settles). Apart from this, the easiest thing you can do is walk up to someone and say, “Hey, have you heard about your country’s bone marrow registry?”

Are you a match? Find out how you can help save Emru’s life: http://www.healemru.com

Got Facebook? Please join Help Emru Find a Bone Marrow Donor and if you learn something new, invite your friends.
Got Livejournal, WordPress or Blogger? Blog it!
Got Youtube? Subscribe to www.youtube.com/healemru
Just find someone you care about and tell them.

Contact info:

Hema Quebec http://www.hema-quebec.qc.ca
Canada Blood Services (Canada, except Quebec) http://onematch.ca/registry
National Marrow Donor Program (US) http://www.marrow.org