Saturday, 13 December 2014


For many, Christmas is a time of community. Of communitas. For me Christmas includes time-outs. And many more moments of solitude. This year, studying at The Atlantic School of Theology, it means more time with The Ocean, The Trees, and Pointe Pleasant Park. It means nuzzling in bed, earlier than usual, and letting mystery, wonder, and quiet nights lull me. It includes the prayer of letting my thoughts and memories speak me.The gift of invigilating an English Exam yesterday at St. Mary's University, was a gift of going back. Back. Back. Back into the memories of my very first year at university. The University of Toronto. It was three years after my Father, Theo, was killed by by Glen. I remember sitting in class as sadness welled up in me. A tsunami of ache, loss, and dark dread. As I stood in that class yesterday with almost fifty students, I wondered what was going on in their lives. I wondered what stories were racing in their minds, hearts, psyches/souls. I thought about what they might be thinking of thirty years from now. As each exam was handed in, I wished each individual a Merry Christmas. And in the warmth of my heart, I was celebrating Glen and Sherry Flett, who were gathering for the twenty-sixth year in a row, to offer a Christmas Party for victims, offenders, and all in their community. Glen told me earlier this week, that they have that Christmas Party to honour and celebrate Theo, my Father. This is Sawbonna speaking. Sawbonna speaking the shared values with Restorative Justice of: respect, responsibility, relationship, and wonder. In this season of wonder, as your memories flood in, I bid you joy in the times of communitas. In the times of solitude.