Last night we went to go see the movie Maudie.
It was about Maude Lewis, a painter from Eastern Canada. I loved the movie.
Specifically, I loved:
- Her paintings – natural landscapes from East Coast Canada.
- How her painting helped her find bliss in moments of distress.
- Her little house in the woods.
- How her relationship with Everette, the fishmonger that took her in and gave her a job as a housekeeper when no one else wanted her, evolved.
The movie also reminded me of how great it is to remember to live the day in “experience” (with our senses). It is so easy, nowadays, to get drawn away from living with our senses (smell, sound, taste, touch) by the technology around us and the fast paced demands of day to day life.
For Maude, it was easier. She lived in a tiny shack in the woods in rural Nova Scotia, and within walking distance to the ocean and the coast. In one scene, she knocked on a friend’s door unannounced and the two of them sat for hours chatting and enjoying the setting. It was clear they were not in a rush. Her friend asked her what inspired her. Her response: “the stream, the breeze, the trees or a bumble bee whizzing by”. I loved this line in the movie.
I also thought how resilient she was in the face of adversity. She was considered ” crippled” (as she walked somewhat funny) and many ridiculed her. Her brother treated her poorly, sold her parent’s home without consulting her, sent her daughter (conceived out of wedlock) off to a foster home and then shipped her off to live with an insensitive aunt. Her aunt treated her poorly and Everrette, the fisherman that gave her her first job as a housekeeper, also treated her poorly at the beginning.
To zone out and go to her “happy” place, she began to tap into her old love of painting. She started painting whatever she could get her hands on: old scraps of wood, furniture and even the walls of the small shack they lived in.
She didn’t live with a chip on her shoulder, she lived in peace. She lived loving what she could. Regardless of what was happening around her, what was going right or wrong, nothing could take away her power to enjoy the warm rays of sunlight, the refreshing ocean air, the smell of moisture at dawn as the sun rises, or a fragrant bed of tulips.
I also loved the intimacy that evolved between her and Everette. When he had first hired her as his housekeeper, he was so hard edged, so rigid. Overtime, with her around, he softened. He opened up and learned to love and be loved. He allowed himself to let go, be vulnerable and be playful. I loved how he learned to love.
For me the first sign of this was when someone came to their shack willing to pay a good fee for one of Maude’s paintings (she had not yet been discovered). He saw she felt attached to the painting and was weary as it was not yet finished. He wouldn’t sell it.
His affection glimmered through. How he held her, stroked her hair and wiped off her dribbling nose as she cried. How he pushed her in his wagon (because she couldn’t walk very well) and giggled with her in the field.
When she left after a disagreement, he went after her. He faught for it. He was humble. Vulnerable. Exposed.
As she was dying, he said: “I know you are getting sicker”, with a look of deep sadness and fear of not being with her.
Her response (with a look of deep gratitude): “I felt so loved”. ” I felt so loved”.
She was content. At peace.