One Day you Will. Here's the day.

Okay. So this is ridiculous and probably impossible o keep up with- a third post?  How can so much happen and a person have time to do this three times in one day? 

Good question.

But I wanted to make some more additions!
Went to the talent show which, as per usual, started late (conveniently enough for me, since I was at the Katimavik house for a while, and being late meeting up with friends turned out to be a good thing after all.)
In Chisasibi, I learned that honestly, it always works out in the end.
Often you might find yourself disappointed if you go in with certain expectations- like that the sound system is going to work swimmingly and the performers are all going to be amazing.  They make mistakes on stage, but few really mind. The show goes on, and no one really worries much about it!  Nothing's perfect here. And they don't hide really hide it.  "I'm fat," said one of the performers today, "but I'm proud of it, I'm proud of who I am."  The statement was followed by a very good performance of Beautiful by Christina Aiguleira

I also feel compelled to express my gratitude for the poetry performance by a Katimavik participant in the new group.  I got to hear her poetry twice, and felt much more connected to her feeling the second time.  "That's guts," as Chris put it.  She spoke of leaving home, finding her wings to fly in an isolated place.  She mentioned that her father's love would always live even if his physical life would not.  At that part, I nearly cried.  Poetry is gutsy.  Telling an audience of so many - the seats at the arena were more than full- that your father took his own life is another thing.  She said she blames "the white man for not knowing my own language," among other things. I don't think I understood well enough what the importance of their culture is here, until she expressed how liberating she feels being in an isolated community, where she feels she fits in and she can show her "indian" pride. 
Her words were well thought-out, well expressed and really made the jabs where they needed to be. 'hugging the bottle like the indian stereotype' (that's not the exact quotation)  But I honestly felt inspired by her courage because she expressed so much truth and pain, ending with a strong sense of hope to "learn from my mother's mistakes."  I really respect this young woman for her performance, and honestly, feel even more compelled than I was before to someday express some poetry myself.  One day, I'm sure I will.  Or maybe more days, I hope!

Hmm. makes me think of a poster Chris put up when we were at that house back in January. "One day you will," it read.

And if you just believe it, it'll all work out for the best in the end.  You just have to believe.
"If you really want something," I remember Chris saying, "It'll come to you."  That was the night I found that beautiful goose painting I had eyed for a moment from the hands of a woman who lost her father, brother or whatever relation they had.  She lost her loved one and I, a stranger was given more than just that physical gift, but the gift of believing.