Gratitude makes the journey better and so does kindness

Month: April 2014

Joy In Routines? Here’s Why

Soon to beThe morning had no particularities unless you count the half-an-inch added to the tiny marigold plants in the front yard.

Write, get the boys up, get their lunches ready, take them to school. Come back, coffee time on the porch, back to writing.

Routines fragment the day into segments that make it feel familiar and also grow on top of each other as you approach the end of the day, giving you a full measure of where your time went.

If you’re not in a good place, soul uneasy with the action of being, routines are like heavy metal pins nailing you to a ground you do not want to be walking on.

But if you’re in a good place, where you soul resides without frowning, then routines have a magic message written all over them: Life is unshaken. Life where you are is not uprooted by any groundbreaking events. Routines mean you’re safe.

Routines change with time. Growing children, people coming in and out of your life, routines evolve, get dusty, fall to pieces and then they grow into new ones,

But their mere existence is the sign you want, the sun that guides your life with no eclipse shadowing its face. It’s a temporality we’re guilty of misplacing though.

A friend wrote today about his critically ill father. It has come down, and suddenly so, to making the best of the time they still have together. Life is fragile, he wrote. It is, I echoed. It always is.

I let it sink in.

Life as we know it could change at any time. It is not pessimism to think so. Nor is it an invitation to live in fear.

Live. With all that you have. Laugh with your loved ones, share time with them, with friends, with people who mean something to you.

Never wait. Never make concessions on waiting. You’ll always get the short end of the stick. Time, even shorter than it is, because you used it to chew your own misery, your relentless negative thoughts, your fear to connect, to live, to live fully with the awareness that you’re opening a gift with every breath you take. You are.

Still there...Life is fragile… Fluid. There is no going back.

To live without regrets is not to live mindlessly but to take each morsel of life and taste it. Mindfully present in everything you do and say, in how you share yourself with those you love and love you. Fully. No regrets, never holding back.

I thought of my friend’s dad all day. He will be on my mind for many days. Thoughts, prayers, wishes for being at peace.

Will you, when you’re sitting near that gap that divides our world as we know it from the one we don’t know? If someone will be holding your hand, will they be at peace? Or will there be pockets of unsaid restlessness, life unlived, life gifts you never got to open because you thought you shouldn’t, or you didn’t want to? You saved for later…

Later…Will it come? Would you build a home leaving holes in the walls that are supposed to keep you warm and protected… Would you add those bricks later because now you’re apprehensive, forgetful, mindless, cheeky (yes, we are,) overconfident that later is tomorrow and if not we’ll make it so.

Can you? Can I?

The solid ground I walk on today are routines. Walk back from school, chat, debate, listen, encourage, smile, hug, listen some more because things have to be said again and again, for safety and comfort. Kids’ words pearled up in colliers of worry, and you polish them to a nice safe shine. Every day, the routine of love and providing peace of mind.

Make food, eat, shoo away silliness when it’s teeth brushing time, hugs, say the soft words that you say every night, again and again, pearls of comfort and warmth.

Nighttime drapes, send the photo newsletter, remember where the photo was taken, right near that warning the boys find funny… ‘Uneven terrain, watch your step.’ They snicker, every time… Who would trip on that?

Both worldsSome would, I tell them. Some don’t need to be told, some will trip as they read the very words… Warnings we never heed. We know better when we don’t. But then we don’t know much anymore when we’re stopped mid-flight, plunging suddenly and not knowing how deep in.

We will rely on the senses we forgot to use a while ago, we’ll have them revived and sharpened by pain, surprise; we’ll be understanding the meaning of it all. Time. When we had it.

We still do. What now?

Tomorrow, routines again. It’ll mean nothing has changed. I am safe. Aware. Mindful.

You?

 

This Is Also Part Of Life

(Originally published as a column in the AM News on Friday, April 18, 2014.)

Passing...It is the part of life that many of us only whisper about and parents often try to keep children protected from. Mine did. Because it hurts. But hurt is also part of life. Better processed when you’re not trying to make sense of it on your own as a kid, or dragging its shadows into adulthood.

I was six years old when my beloved maternal grandmother died suddenly. Something went wrong during a routine surgical operation that was meant to be just a couple-of-days-in-the-hospital procedure. I never got to say goodbye and no one else did because no one knew of what was to come.

When I was nine, my paternal grandfather passed away. I loved him dearly and had no clue about the long illness he was battling or about his impending death. I never got a chance to say goodbye.

As taxing as that would have been, it could’ve provided the kind of closure we need in order to process such events with grace.

My paternal grandparents died a few years later, and goodbyes were not said that time either.

My mom passed away suddenly eight years ago and though there was no typical goodbye, there was a premonitory conversation that included a farewell that had both closure of some sort and a good lesson in it.

My dad has been chronically ill for many years now and I have been given enough time to say some of the things people should say.

I had time to think of life as it slips away and appreciate its richness, its bittersweet flavor and its colorful shreds as I am trying to put them together to make sense of the tapestry we keep on weaving with every day that passes.

With my sons, I choose to celebrate both life and death. Choking on some words as they try to build themselves into sentences that describe life, understanding that they are becoming the very foundation we have to build today and all the tomorrows on, but most of all learning that appreciation of every day and of people we have around us can only be tangible if we are aware of both life and death as we go.

Withholding the reality of death from children is like not telling them of night because it brings darkness.

Giving ourselves and our children a chance to understand death and accept it helps us all appreciate life and better our ways as we go. It’s when we forget about the finality of it all that we can take it for granted.

My sons often play the game of ‘If you could have three magic powers, what would they be?’ and the one power I keep on pushing away from is to be immortal. It would make everything less worthwhile, I tell them.

They are puzzled every time. But think of all the things you get to do and never be afraid it all ending, they try to convince me.

But fear is, for once, an element that adds to life, I tell them.

If we choose to acknowledge it, it can guide us towards being grateful for every day as it comes and goes, and for people as they adjust their steps to match ours or walk in that tap-tapping cadence we share as we go through life, for as long as we do.

Awareness of an impending finality is what makes life precious. No season that lasts forever can bring the kind of joy that seasons as we know them do. Or sunsets. Or watching a child grow or sharing precious times with our loved ones.

We are strong in how we carry ourselves through life, in how we overcome challenges and in how we face new ones.

Knowing that everything ends somewhere adds the kind of humbleness that makes the journey worthwhile.

In building farewells as we go, we embrace time and people with all the gusto one can have knowing that we only have a limited time to make it happen. To make it last long after we’re gone. Because it will, as the ones we leave behind will carry it forward and make the best of it. Life, that is.

The Truth About Earth Day

LifeI woke up to rain and cloud-shrouded hills. I remembered it was Earth Day because yesterday we had a conversation about it.

Lights at school will be switched off during lunch time because it’s Earth Day, the boys announced. They found it funny. Why only at lunch time? Why only on Earth Day and why would we make such a big deal out of something we should do without any prompting anyway? Since we trot on the planet daily, switching lights on and leaving footprints bigger than life, it would make sense to have an Earth Day daily celebration policy.

At least people are reminded of it, you could argue. At least one day. It counts. Better than nothing.

But is one day enough? Is the green message of today strong enough to last for an entire year and are we earthlings determined enough to help the planet from today onward breathing in the oomph of a glorious Earth Day?

I have my doubts. Being the Earth Day Grinch is not about being negative, far from it. It is, as always, about scratching the surface to see is if there’s continuity in Earth-saving beliefs and practices once April 22nd comes to an end.

The way I see it, unless we follow up with lifestyle changes and see climate changes addressed, celebrating Earth Day with much fanfare seems a bit hypocritical.

GreenSharing beautiful photos and shedding emerald-green tears on April 22 of every year is sweet, but not even remotely enough to change things.

If it’s Earth Day, let’s make it so. No ‘freebies with your purchase,’ no ‘5 dollars off Earth Day coupon’ or ‘enter Earth Day promotional code at checkout.’

It is important (vital?) to stall the big machinery that produces consumer goods at a rate that would overwhelm not just one planet – it does! – but several, should we have the luxury of planet backup to begin with (we don’t.)

Last year, the Conference Board of Canada released a report that revealed the amount of garbage generated by each citizen: a shift-in-your-seat 777 kg/person. What’s worse, the garbage mountains have been growing steadily since 1990.

Sure we know why. Manufacturing goes through the roof, marketing is a beast made even harder to resist with our rushed lifestyle, and …well, the cradle-to-grave concept makes no sense when every year new models slightly different than last year’s roll in with that addition that somehow we never wanted but now we crave…

But this is not sustainable. What then?

Have the echoes of all the well-intended Earth Day celebrations eluded us?

What are we doing wrong, other than refusing to accept a truth that shows itself in many shapes and repeatedly so, in a zig-zag of weather and climate torment that we will never be ready for no matter how many emergency kits we stack near the entrance.

SomberThe planet has been increasingly more affected by global warming since that first Earth Day in 1970 and, according to Time magazine, many more of us have joined the ranks of climate change skeptics. In other words, it ain’t happening because we find it hard to believe it’s really happening.

Reminders to celebrate Earth Day are sure helpful, but what about tomorrow? Or two weeks from now? Three months down the road?

Sticking to one day a year will not do anymore. Nor will sticking to planting a tree or turning the tap off while brushing teeth. Curbing the non-renewable resource dependency needs to happen and fast. We need to act all grown-up and implement bigger changes if we are to celebrate Earth Day in earnestness.

Once...The question is: will there be enough time to make up our minds by the time Earth Day celebrations roll in next April 22? And next?

From a human point of view we will have enough time to plan fun games, swap spectacular photos and say wow, and organize community events that will remind us all of how lucky we are to have such a beautiful place to live. Because we are.

Problem is, we are not the ones to have the last word. Our planet will. In face of climate change and imminent global warming, we need to have the humbleness to recognize that and act accordingly…

As I finish writing this rain pounds over the garden and the new crop peeks from muck, soon to grow into lush green rows. We’re still safe for now. Seasons follow each other the way they always have, but fear is there too.

Can that be the wind in our wings? Let’s hope so…  Make it a happy Earth Day! Today, tomorrow and every day after that. Make it last.

 

Life As I See It. So Far

Mirrors in lifeI always had this fascination with balls of yarn and spools. Questions. I’d try to undo the ball of yarn just to get to the other end. Because that was where it all started, deep inside. Or was the beginning the end that I was holding?

See what I mean? There is no way of settling it unless you pick one just because and that’s that.

People’s lives are like that too. That’s what they look like to me. Balls of yarn. There is the end that is available for all to see but more unravels as you listen to their stories, or see how the glimmer of sunsets and full moons makes them tear up, by how they talk of times past and broken dreams and life happenings that untangled more yarn they expected and now they are half undone, shreds hanging here and there.

It’s like that with all of us. With some more than others.

Sometimes you get a glimpse of where it all started, or enough pieces that, if you take the time and courage to put together, may reveal the way it was in the beginning… The end of the spool. The beginning. The way all life adventures begin.

Unraveling a bit here and a bit there is how it’s done. Life, I mean. It can be ungracious when too much gets undone, or when the yarn breaks and you have to tie knots to keep on going and they show. Truth is, we all hide knots of one kind or another. Until one day, when we bid goodbye to righteousness and decide to stop hiding.

The day we start living our own truth. As we see it, as we live it, as the only one there ever was.

Truth, counted in knots, just like the winds at sea. Because, in a way, that’s what they are. Tattle-tellers of grace and ungrace, of coming undone and realizing that though painful at times, our wings expand further than before. And with liberating freedom.

There’s much to be learned when knots are considered not faults but facts of life, or life as we know it. Ours and others’.

That’s how life is. Everyone unravels at some point. Yarn breaks. We tie it up. And we keep at it. But if we spend too much time of judging everyone else’s knots, how they are much too weak in how they are tied, or too big, or too tight or not tight enough… we may just miss that it’s not about how knots are tied but in how unraveled yarn comes together to help weave the pattern of life.

Life is ungracious in how it unravels us. In how it shows us what humble is and what being human is all about.

I came to realize that it is not in whether we are graceful or not as we step through life, or in how we tie our knots, but rather in how we learn to help others tie theirs when they struggle through it, because somehow, life is the kind of weaving that can only tell the real story of us when all the broken, knot-full yarns become part of it.

TapestryAnd that only happens when we acknowledge that being human is one of the faultiest, most beautiful and humbling adventures we’ll ever be in. When we have the courage to face it in all its truth that is.

The Magic Of Rain And Leaves

(Originally published as a column in the AM News on April 11, 2014 under the same title.)

Tale tellers...My dad knew how to tell whether the day would be a rainy one or not. He would choose when to sow seeds in the garden in early spring that way.

Thin clouds piling in all shades of orange over the hills as the sun was setting told more than the story of a day ending; they talked about the day to come.

Swallows flying close to the ground were also a sign of impending rain, I was told from early on. And just like that, I knew that if I found freshly-woven spider webs during my stroll through the garden in early morning, there will be no rain; a good thing during the much-loved summer vacation days.

In the woods or around the yard, I knew which berries were good to eat and which were not. I knew that the leaves of raspberry bushes were good for tea and that when baby chickens come out of the egg their puffy coat is all wet.

On April 7 the boys’ school (and the whole School District 73) hosted ‘Day of Sucwentwecw – to acknowledge one another,’ a first ever celebration of this kind. Students got to listen to an elder talking about the traditional people around Kamloops.

The boys brought home a newspaper, The Secwepemc News. There were stories of people who worked or work to preserve the culture and to revive it. There were stories about traditions and how life was lived according to seasons, and how knowing about nature kept people alive and thriving. Nature-inspired stories passed on from elders to youth and children were never just entertainment but lessons.

It was the drawing of rose hips that sent me back to growing up and to everything life meant back then. I remembered the tangy deep orange tea my mom made from rose hips and how it was one of the best drinks in winter because rose hips are very rich in vitamin C.

The thought of today’s children sprouted without warning.

Equipped with smartphones and getting used to opening a package to find food, how connected to life can they be and how much of a feeling of belonging to the place we call Earth can they develop as they grow?

20140412_121358Will they know that certain herbal teas can take care of headaches or stomach aches and how to read signs of spring in the world around them? Will they know how to forage for food if they had do?

It is a refrain we hear often enough: eat what’s in season. Yet how many adults know what’s in season where they live? A couple of generations ago people’s connection to nature meant avoiding starvation.

Do today’s children have a chance to learn about that connection?

Ushered from school to classes to stores and then tucked into bed at night, how much time is there to understand how nature does its thing? If a bee is but a bug that flies from flower to flower and looks very much like a wasp – can you tell the difference? – but the vital connection between bees and crops and food on the table is never made, will children grow to understand the consequences of bee colonies collapsing?

If children never understand that medicine once meant knowing which leaves to pick to make tea out of and that picking ripe fruit and veggies is the result of sowing, weeding and knowing how to keep the earth healthy by feeding it not chemicals, but compost or manure, and thus completing a circle that was never meant to be broken if we are to stay healthy, they are robbed of what should’ve been a birth right.

If we gave an older person whose connection with nature has been strengthened by passed-down knowledge and experience a smartphone or a high-tech device that many of today’s children can handle with their eyes closed, they’d look awkward in their lack of understanding of how these devices work.

Yet they have the knowledge of putting food on the table and of how to survive based on signs that nature gives freely to all, which most of today’s children lack.

Now imagine combining the two types of knowledge. They should not be mutually exclusive of each other. Their co-existence means that children can have a true measure of life and they can be raised in gratitude of it.

Stories of oldThe slow pace of acquiring life and nature knowledge, the trials and errors that have guided people from the beginning of times in their quest to stay alive, is what we cannot afford to leave behind.

They give us and our children a chance to reconsider our choices, shape them to match the past knowledge and accommodate the future.

The knowledge of the past and the facts of today is what we have to build our future with.

Resourcefulness dictates that we make use of both if we are to provide our children with a sense of where they come from and where they are headed.

The Climate Change Issue

ChangesNews on the reality of climate change are pouring in. Up to 97 per cent of the world’s scientists agree that it is happening and it is caused by human activity. many agree that it is high time we heed the signs and warnings…

That some are affected (physically and economically) by various natural disasters as they powerfully ruffle our world is true, but equally true is the fact that it is easy to forget such things unless you live with the reality of their dire consequences every day.

Which, the said scientists warn, many of us earthlings will.

The two pieces of news that, once again, got me thinking, were not about the missing fish in ocean, or the acidification and warming of our oceans, or the melting of ice caps and thousand-old glaciers, or the storms that will increase in frequency and strength.

Instead, they brought forth the reality of every day life for people of places far away that have too small an impact given their simple way of life, yet ironically, they are the ones who experience climate changes first and often in irreversible ways. Yes, it is about the paradisaical small island communities where turquoise waters lap over white sands and palm trees line kilometers of beautiful beaches…

But there is a painful screech to it all. Climate change throws a rude stick in the wheels and it rattles the paradise in unthinkable ways. Climate change means starvation, loss of homes and dramatic changes of everything they define as ‘life as you know it.’

Then it was news on Mongolian nomads, many whom are forced to abandon their traditional ways due to shifting of seasons caused by climate change. Again, they don’t cause much of it but suffer the consequences in ways the majority of us cannot imagine.

After all, it’s not like we expect many feet of water to take over our dwellings, nor are we in a position to wonder whether the next (vital) crop will happen or else we face starvation. The animals we rely on for meat, dairy and others, invisible as they are, exist somewhere. For now.

On the other hand, the nomads who care for their animals see them disappear, prey to disease and hunger, and as much as we like to say we depend on ours, they are the ones in a position of utmost dependency. Hence the sad reflections of climate change on their lives.

Scientists talk about a tipping point. It has been used often enough to make some of us roll our eyes and sigh. Yet tipping points are scary as they are fascinating. In chemistry when you have a buffer solution in which you add small amounts of acid or base, the pH doesn’t change for a while. You know you’re on the way to throw the solution off balance yet you don’t know when. And then, one drop later, or two, or ten, the pH drops it rises suddenly (depending on whether you add an acid or an alkaline solution.)

That’s when you know you’re past the tipping point.

Environmentally speaking at a planetary level, tipping points are reason for nightmares of the worst kind. Because, unlike a flask of buffer solution in a lab, the planet cannot recover from that state easily.

What then? Hard to tell. What’s easier (somewhat) is to ask ‘What now?’

For sure we can do better.

Simplicity in how we live and becoming less dependent on fossil fuels. But we know that already. All we need is to start showing it.

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