Gratitude makes the journey better and so does kindness

Month: September 2015 Page 1 of 2

Take Time. An Invitation

‘Be in love with your life. Every minute of it.’  Jack Kerouac

Fast movingThere is no faster running river than life itself. Time waits on no one and makes no concessions. It’s truly a case of take what you can when you can. I can take today’s rainy morning, my gaze stolen by the golden leaves of the silver maple in the front yard. Kissed by water droplets, some of the leaves dance a last dance as they trail downwards to rest on the grass.

MoreResenting no day for being too sunny, too cloudy, too unfit for human consumption but taking each hour of every day with the ravishing hunger of the one knowing that food like that is scarce, and, at the same time, relishing the morsels to the last tinge of vanishing taste. The promise of more in each mouthful is an open-end invitation.

Leaf

 

In the fall, colours are on the menu. Yesterday the boys sketched the veins and contours of all the leaves in our yard. ‘When you take the time to draw leaves you see more of what they are,’ big boy says, not knowing that in saying that he stumbled upon one of the biggest secret of life: Lend your eyes, your ears, your hands, all your senses, lend your heart to the world around, stay long enough and you’ll understand more.Busy hands

TruthWhy do leaves turn yellow and red? Should we learn of magic in our school? Nothing short of miracles, leaves turning fiery colours point to the necessary amendments. It is so. Magic we shall call it. It calls for reverence, curiosity and joy.

More Yesterday the boys learned of leaves, of the miracle backwards breathing they do so they allow us to do ours. Gifts to live by. A mouthful of oxygen with every leafful branch, the gift of countless breaths waiting on us each day…

 

 

WorldsWhat happens to leaves as they fall? They follow the unwritten rules of the world unseen, they become food for life we see and often cringe at the sight of. Bugs of sorts, fungi and worms, factories of rottenness that clip molecules and spread them in the ground for next round of growth and wonder. Unassuming guardians of life.

 

 

SoftnessColoursTo see is to wonder. Stop long enough to see and you’ll see more… the boy said. We did so in late afternoon. We strolled on a path of dirt rolling through hills of yellow grass tied with sparkling golden braids of sun escaping from dark clouds every now and then.

 

 

ColoursColours to feed on. To walk silently is not to be a thought recluse of some sort but to let the rest of you soak the time and its flavours, colours and sounds. To walk silently is to bow to the uniqueness of being in a moment so rich you can only ask your thoughts to sit, quiet and humbled in that cathedral of beauty, waiting for the songs unfolding to quiet down, wishing they never will because the story they tell is so much better than any story you could say with words….

TwoThe dirt path leads to a patch of trees sheltering an old cattle water trough. Crickets took residence in nearby tall dry grasses, and their chirping is the summer-end gift that reminds of childhood moonlit fall nights when the grape-loaded vine draped low and fragrant over the green bench I would sit on, not ready, not ever, to say goodnight to days that seemed to dance away too fast. Even then…

 

sleepyLifeWe sit on rocks jutting out of the dirt, old and grey and covered with dry moss. The river runs down in the valley, there are hills that take the story of the horizon into where all becomes blue and spills into the sky, and the cars on faraway highways look like bugs. The buzz is not deafening like it is when in the city, a mere reminder with no loud stomping.

 

SilenceTo find places where no loud noises exist is to feed the hunger for wonder that allows us to see and mind time, its passing and understand the beauty of the temporary. To be in awe of it. To find yourself renewed is to find, yet again, the place from where you can start again.

To live. To learn to see. To keep on dancing, because the music never stops, no matter how quiet the moment we’re in…

Running on Climate – Why You Have To See It Before Casting The Ballot

Certain issues of today, such as climate change, need to be revisited time and time again, and stories need to be told in different ways but converging towards the same conclusion, until they leave a mark. Such is the case of the new documentary ‘Running on Climate’ by Vancouver filmmaker Robert Alstead, that addresses environmental concerns not just as a tale of woe and doom, but of hope and pursuit of change from the roots up.

It is indeed mind-boggling that any issues pertaining our survival are still a matter of debate, when the most recent Intergovernmental Panel of Climate Change (IPCC) report in 2014 stated that our influence on climate change is real, and the recent anthropogenic greenhouse emissions are highest in history.

In other words, global warming is undeniable: glaciers are receding at an unprecedented rate, the ocean and atmosphere are warming, and sea level has risen and continues to do so, as the levels of emissions continue to increase.

Featuring Andrew Weaver, PhD, a Canadian climate scientist, Nobel prize winner and, since 2013, BC Green Party MLA for Oak Bay-Gordon Head on Vancouver Island, ‘Running on Climate’ ties environmental and climate change issues with politics in a way that could not be more complementary to the present day political Canadian landscape, and also highly needed as the 2015 federal elections are around the corner.

The message is unequivocal: With federal elections less than a month away and mounting evidence of Canada’s unfortunate contribution to global climate change through the relentless pursuit of fossil fuels, people need to pay attention to what lies ahead. From an environmental perspective, things will only get worse unless change is implemented, and soon.

But the documentary is hardly just a cautionary tale about global warming. Alstead tells the story of a community that has always had a penchant for living green but chose to turn greener during the provincial elections in 2013, while also telling the story of scientists turned activists turned politicians, and they did so as they realize the unfortunate metamorphosis of British Columbia, from green policy maker into a ‘carbon corridor’ for the export of fossil fuel, such as coal, liquid natural gas and bitumen.

That the story is relevant in the present political context is an understatement. What ‘Running on Climate’ does and does well is to show that the new generation of politicians are concerned with more than just politics. They are a breed that has been emerging out of deep environmental concern that runs invisible in the face of many of today’s government leaders.

In fact, they are coming from a place of need, knowing the science behind climate change and realizing that unless they get involved, whether as activists (or initially as activists, as is the case of Lynn Quarmby, PhD, SFU Professor and Green Party Candidate for Burnaby North-Seymour) or get involved in politics, change will lag or never happen, and neither is an option.

‘Running on Climate’ presents civil disobedience not as act of gratuitous bravery but a necessity seen by those who recognize that climate change is the unfortunate catalyst of the biggest economic and humanitarian crisis of our time.

One of the key messages that resurfaces throughout the documentary is that the choice is limited: we have to come to grips with our current situation or continue on the crash course we’ve been engaging since the dawn of the Industrial Revolution but more so during the last decades, a path that has lead us to infamously reaching the 400ppm in CO2 emissions.

And who better to address the current situation and become an engine for change than those who can bring facts and figures to the table. With the string of indignities that Canadian scientists have been subjected to during what has been condemned as unprecedented and profoundly un-Canadian muzzling, it seems fitting that the fight for change has to come from within.

Weaving details of climate change with a close-to-skin case study of an electoral campaign that took place on Vancouver Island, producer Robert Alstead and co-producer Jo Clarke have created the kind of pre-election tutorial we all need to revisit before October 19. We all need to know about vote-splitting and why ‘every vote counts’, and we need to see how a bunch of well-meaning ambitious volunteers can make green policies visible, rain or shine, so that we can run and influence our future come election day.

A tale of hope, ‘Running on Climate’ is worth watching and learning from. It debunks the myth of corporate funded election campaigns and shows how a cause bigger than life brings people together, empowers them to seek change and once they do, to keep on pursuing the one thing that’s worth everything to us all: survival.

‘Running on Climate’ is available nationwide in Canada starting September 22, 2015. Please stay tuned for further information on US release date.

Notes From Our School. Friday

20150824_153605 To say that we’re redefining the school concept, or rather searching to acquire knowledge the way we see fit, might sound conceited. It’s not with that purpose that we do this, but rather so that the boys can open their eyes. Hearts too, as you have to have both open and willing if you are to learn. And learn we have to, learn to live with grace and gratefulness. Learn to tie the stories of the world together so we can see the world in all that it is.

Today we talk about food. Why choose this over that, what is taste and why it is used by those who handle chemicals and colours to mislead us… ‘We have to eat with our brains’ I tell the boys and they tilt their heads. True, if we are to eat to live, I press on.

They like the challenge and the learning of unconventional matters that help choose our way as we go, saying no thank you to mainstream invites to indulge and siding with simplicity while at the same time learning that a ‘simple’ piece of food that nature creates is never simple, but the result of such mind-boggling biochemical processes it is but necessary to be grateful for each bite. And learn.

20150815_182852 It’s in the choices we make, with everything. With food, we can only make choices once we learn the taste of food and the value of each bite. Unaltered and ‘as is’, imperfect and yet complete, simple food as nature offers it is where eating starts. Science is there too and it is never repugnant but enticing.

We play the game of ‘What about…’ and the boys ask about processed foods that we all know are a silly compromise at times but without any nutritional value. ‘What about?…’ they keep on asking. I keep on answering nope every so often and they laugh. ‘But it says so on the package!’ they protest knowing the truth but enjoying the game.

To eat healthily is a mind-opening adventure. We eat with our minds, we eat with our hearts (would you ever eat the results of suffering or some chemical warfare that happened in the field where your food happened to be? ‘No Mom!’). We eat knowing that we’re never to bow to trends or marketing ploys, but stay true to needs and leave wants die of attention emaciation… They smile. Lesson ends with the eye glimmer that tells me they’re flying high, having learned things that make sense.

Next, I tell them, there’s something else to watch. A TED talk about taking care of those parts of ourselves that do not show. Today we talk about emotions, namely the ones that overwhelm us when we fail.

The lid of the white porcelain tea pot broke today because hurried little hands put it too close to the edge. Disaster! Little boy’s hand covered his mouth. Then came a sad pout. ‘You liked this pot, Mama. What now?’

Now is just the same with or without a porcelain lid. I am not tied to a while porcelain pot more than I am to some dandelion fluff. It’s not self-blame that helps us clean the white bits off the kitchen floor but the realization that mistakes happen. Blame is not the same with learning from our mistakes.

20150824_153714When you start learning, you fail at times. The boys nod; they know the feeling of emptiness and frustration that goes with it, as we all do. When you want to stomp your feet and be mean to yourself. Why would you, I ask? They think. Pause…’Because…’

Here is a place where we can say it as we see it. To admit to vulnerability is to find the place to grow from. And to understand others. Self-compassion for trying times. Whether you break a porcelain lid, or fail a test or or make mistakes of any other kind.

We pursue things that do not work out sometimes and that makes us feel inadequate, a flurry of sharp edges pushing against our soul… The boys’ eyes grow large. Smiles. You cannot turn back in time and erase mistakes, but you can try again with what you know. Because of a mistake, you know more.

I hope I can help them see that nobody’s expectation of greatness should ever make them think less of themselves. They are enough as they are, and if they believe that, they will keep on growing and following their heart’s call.

When you live, you make mistakes and you fail at times. What then? Where do look next? You draw a blanket of compassion from the shelf and wrap yourself in it. So you must put it somewhere on a shelf where you can reach it at any time. You or someone else will need it, we all do at times. Few of us have it handy. Few of us are willing to use it, or know how to…

It is a big subject indeed and we will go back to it. We are to get to know ourselves in learning. Reciting manuals and facts, achieving milestones so others can say ‘good job’ does little in the end if you’re not present to celebrate your feeling of having learned and the joy that comes with it. Learning with a purpose.

20150918_134456Next, little boy chooses piano class over science today (but can we do science on Monday, Mama?) and the sound of music, braided sounds from keyboard and from the boy experiencing the wonder of making it, start dancing around the living room. So it is, we love our school.

Big brother reads his own and then we talk it. It is about paradigms that help us move further or keep on being stuck. He already knows so much, but it is often hard to remember. His big smile and hug at the end will remind me of joy down the road when, our together adventure becomes overwhelming at times and we forget of paradigms and better ways to do it and get caught in spikes. Learning together becomes yet another facet of our bond.

Everything that’s worth doing and living becomes overwhelming at times. That’s how we learn. We admit to limitations, to being human, to being afraid and inspired, to follow calls only we can hear… To learn to say ‘I can.’

It’s been a good day. It’s past lunch. I make miso soup with thick kelp and soba noodles; we eat and talk. Taste and laughs and wonder. Learning is all, but it is never a paddock where we lock our thoughts at any time, but rather an endless array of fields and mountains where they can keep on running and dancing forever. Because, in truth, learning never stops…

What’s A Child’s Life Worth?

 

Initially published as a column in NewsKamloops on Friday, September 18, 2015. 

SoftnessIt is hard to avoid feeling broken-hearted and also befuddled over many events unfolding lately.  From a refugee crisis growing by the day, both in the number of people suffering but also in the controversy surrounding the political and social implications of various countries accepting them, to news of children being killed in Canada, one cannot help but wonder if the world is really turning topsy-turvy this time.

Humanity is slowly (or not) being buried under its own indignities, some so gross and unforgivable we find it hard to make peace with it, now or ever.

The photo of the little Syrian boy who drowned off the coast of Turkey circled the world many times over, prompting people to step up and demand governments to act to address the awful refugee crisis.

Many wondered about that photo, asking how and why it impacted so many people while other photos of children dying or dead from Syria, Africa or Ukraine, or even here in Canada, have done little but show up on the news and cause a temporary shudder.

The thing is, the photo made people aware of a situation so dire it is baffling it took so long for us all to react the way we did after seeing the lifeless body of a child washed up on a beach.

The EU and the rest of the world are still far from having found viable solutions to lessen the severity of one of the most massive human displacements in history, yet the matter is being discussed and analyzed at length, powered at least partially by the photo.

A little boy lost his life, and that is beyond sad, yet his death and the fact that the world saw it have become the catalyst that will help prevent other children like him from dying needlessly.

Here at home, recent incidents involving very young children should become strong catalysts of change too. In Penticton, a 5-year-old boy was killed by a pickup truck while crossing a busy street (on a crosswalk) with his father and older brother. Not only was he hit by the truck, but the driver kept on driving not realizing what had happened, until he was flagged down by people, and after not hearing the boy’s father yelling at him to stop.

What are we to learn? That some of the trucks on our streets are so big you cannot see a smaller size adult from the driver’s seat, let alone a child? Do we need them so big that they become a menace for pedestrians?

Before we even know what caused the accident (will we ever?) how determined are we to make driving distractions a thing of the past, be them phone or alcohol-caused, how harsh the punishment for both and speeding too, so that we can prevent other people from dying needlessly?

The case of the little girl in Alberta who died an atrocious death at the hands of a monster who first killed her father, is as shocking as it is incomprehensible. As a parent, it is hard not to crumble inside just thinking of the fear and pain that child had to go through before she died.

Will we hold ourselves accountable as a society to do right by her and her father (if a shocking photo is not to be shown) and ensure cold-blooded killers like theirs do not ever get to hurt anyone else ever again? Or will we forget too soon because such shocking things are hard to bring up? Let’s hope not.

We should hug our children once more every night, find more compassion for each other and strengthen the bonds with the people in the community we live in so that we can do all that we can to prevent any other children or adults from being killed in our midst.

Another toddler, just a couple of months younger, was found in Victoria by the RCMP officers that responded to a 911 call. She could not be resuscitated. While the police informed the public that ‘this is an isolated incident and the public is not at risk’, the reality is that we are at risk, very much so, simply because we’re in it together. It’d be shameful if we chose to think otherwise.

We do not know the nature of the injuries that caused the toddler’s death, nor do we know the nature of her mother’s medical distress. We can assume that it was perhaps a case of post-partum depression or psychosis, which is a reality for approximately 8 to 12 per cent of new mothers and should prompt our local and provincial governments to allocate proper resources and funds to help prevent and treat such disorders, as well as other mental disorders that plague our society.

Will the media be diligent enough to inform us later so by knowing the truth we can press for necessary change?

There are then the many cases of children in foster care, some of whom die at the hands of their caregivers (see the case of the 2-year-old girl who, two years ago, was found to have fractures and bruises by the coroner, yet the cause of death was declared unknown), never to be heard of again, their death not able to stand out as a horrible enough event that prompts us to better our ways so that no other children have to die or suffer while in foster care.

Should we fear that if we do not have a visual reminder strong enough to shake us to the core we will just cringe and move on? Using photos of children under such dire circumstances may just look callous and inconsiderate, yet considering the above cases, all of them, and seeing how a photo was enough to make the world wake up and demand action, what should we do about the children who are dying only to be seen and remembered by their loved ones, their sad passing unable to create strong enough ripples to influence obligatory change?

No child is more or less important than another and in failing to prevent the (preventable) death of any, we are not only failing humanity, we are failing ourselves and the values we hold dear at a personal level.

We can argue about the correctness of publishing photos of dead children until we’re blue in the face,  truth is there is a high risk of more children dying of various preventable deaths unless we’re shaken good by a photo so hard to look at that it will never leave us.

Unless, of course, we are reminded of the preciousness of life simply by looking in a child’s eyes and realizing that all it takes is kindness and a made up mind to make good things happen. For them and for us all.

Our School At Home And Beyond. A Glimpse

‘Education is the kindling of a flame, not the filling of a vessel.’  Socrates

GrasslandsIt is not every day that I get to see a red-tail hawk swoop down for a midday meal in the grasslands. I had to stop for that one. And for the clouds that towered over the golden hills. It’s one of the most soothing landscapes I’ve even seen.

That is little boy’s classroom on the one day a week when he goes to Forest School. We sat in a circle in the middle of undulating dry grasses this morning, talked about snakes and owls and bugs, reviewed the things to do such as ‘wander far enough but not too far, know the number of whistles for this and that’, before the small feet peppered the dusty trail, following behind the teacher.

There is joy infusing our hug as I get ready to go on my way and little boy on his with the group.

20150915_105512Giggles, whispers, the trepidation of another day that brings learning through open eyes tasting the blue sky and the golden tall grasses that speak of dried-up lakes and hidden animal burrows. The land has stories to tell, it’s only fitting that we’d take ourselves and our children out here to listen.

It’s not in the books, not in the sitting upright and reminding your eyes to stay put on the word of the day. Not unless the word connects with the world you see with your eyes, the world you walk on and see transform from one day to the next, the smells that tell you learn to tell apart as you spend more time in places that you crawl through if need be to look at a bug, places you let crawl through you as reminders of life in its primal, must-see-or-else form.

worldsCome noon, I find my way back to the hills to pick up little boy. I stop a few times, it’s that beautiful. I breathe the place in: colours, smells, sun splashed lazily over velvety hills in the distance making them look like they are underwater. As if I am staring at algae-covered rocks in a stream. Two worlds in two. A world of many faces; ours.

This is what I want the boys to learn of in our school at home and in classrooms of hills and clouds.

That the world has mysteries we cannot see unless we bring ourselves close enough to it.

That everything has a key somewhere and as we get closer to understanding, we get closer to reverence, never away from it.

That we do not own the world, but are part of it. Conquering never works, gently prying the door open to knowledge, not vying for high marks and loud approval but the feeling of having understood a tinge more, that is what I dream for the boys.

Shelter to growThat they will learn reverence.

That they will be humbled by the richness of a handful of dirt and the secrets a leaf reveals as you hold it up against the sun.

That math and science are never the hated subjects, but keys to answering the whys we find as we go along.

That it is all a big picture with boundaries that keep on growing as our understanding of it grows.

Soft wallsThat the balance is fragile and our running to engage in rat races has nothing to do with balance but often leads to frantic days and connections lost, with ourselves first of all.

That school is never to be a place where we get farther away from ourselves so that we fit in, but a place where we get closer to knowing who we are, to affirming our thoughts and dreams, knowing as we go that the world has a place for each and every one of us, as we are. A place to be safe but bold, to wonder and let curiosity seep through. To help more thoughts grow.

Another hawk dances with the grasses. Another glimpse of life, death too, implied and not seen, and if seen, accepted as part of it all. Gracious, both side of it. The boys will learn this. They will learn that a glimpse is all. That we must take fully and give ourselves to it fully, that the glimpse is a gift repeating itself every day thousands of times.

skyThe side of the road is decorated in chicory flowers, as if the sky kissed the ground every now and then leaving marks of blue. Same fascinating colour, the reflection of the blue endless sky in small countless ones growing towards it, each holding the story of storms to come like delicate mysterious oracles. It is true.

The boys and I learned about it yesterday, and the amazement matched the mystery. Drawing blue petals on stalks on green, listening, asking questions, tilting their heads and blooming in almost incredulous smiles…

‘How do they do that, Mom? How do they know?’

DanceThat is what we will learn, and beyond. We will find ourselves privy to the conversation the earth has with the sky, we will have to be quiet enough to hear, keen-eyed to see, but mostly humbled enough to know that we are but another piece in the big puzzle called life, that we do not make sense without the other pieces.

That we are being given the opportunity to see it all, wonder and learn about it together is a gift as precious as life itself.

That is our dream school. We will only go as far as our gratefulness will take us.

Change Starts With Education

IMG_8606It’s the word we’re hearing every day during the ongoing campaign: change. It is, in truth, what keeps the world turning and alive, so it make sense that the elections would become the epitome of the very concept.

The word and its envisioned wake get people fantasizing about what will be after October 19. Change alone is not what we should be after, but positive change, visible and beneficial for all Canadians. And we need a lot of good change to make things better.

With so much at stake, it is only natural to experience the slight hand tremors of the overwhelmed voter. There is no simple answer and yes, there is work involved in searching for the best option that will make the said tremors go away. It is really not enough to just show up to vote; we need to become informed voters who know who and why. If you find yourself hesitating, you’re not alone.

Every day, a new event unfolds, at home or internationally, new boundaries are being traced and we find ourselves wondering who to vote for, so we’re back to the drawing board once again. Who to choose? Why? It might as well be that common sense will invite to clarity; it always does when you let it do its thing.

Needs should come first. Food, water, medical care, education, financial support for those in need, addressing security issues that will not see anyone unfairly monitored or even worse, prosecuted, developing climate change strategies that will see alternative energy source industries thrive and people safe from natural disasters. For starters.

Good food; it is a right, not a privilege. We now know enough about nutrition to realize that corporate agriculture is not the way to go. No amount of pesticide is safe enough, and food coming from huge silos, whether it is vegetables or meat is just not the same as locally grown or raised products.

Food should come unprocessed, supplied by small businesses with faces we can see and know; with people who stand behind their product and supply not only farmer’s markets but also food stores throughout the country. It has been said that only large scale, genetically modified food can feed the growing number of people. It is only logical to argue that corporations know less about the growing of food and there are considerable risks associated with depersonalized food suppliers, one of them being the slow degradation of the very land we need to grow food in the first place.

In the age of corporate agriculture where seed patents are a reality and a company can dictate the way farmers live and operate, most times painfully removed from farm life in the name of profit over people’s health and environmental well-being, we need to go back to understanding growing food from the roots up.

High quality, independent (PR-free) education can provide the pros and cons of such arguments and enough critical thinking should serve as a tool to find the best solution.

We have been witnessing a decrease in the quality of education, and moreover, at a higher level, frequent and shocking abolition of science and the means that support it, be it research labs, libraries, intellectuals whose purpose is to promote knowledge and help it thrive, but who are instead shut down to make room for corporate development that brings profit to a few, but rarely to a community.

By definition, true knowledge should be unencumbered by any financial and political interest. We should employ electoral change to help go back to that. Reinstate the importance of learning, and the need to offer programs that will not stop anyone on the basis of income, reinstating the value of studying hard, knowing that studying is a right, but one that comes with the obligation of excellence.

Excellence is badly needed in addressing various health issues that have been at the centre of many a discussion in the media, from obesity and lifestyle-caused cardiovascular disease, to mental health, addictions, and the lack of quality care for veteran and the elderly. In the age of increasing environmental and lifestyle-related health issues, medical care (hence enough medical doctors of various specialties available in most communities) has to be an election subject, and an important one at that.

As for the environment, well, we’ve been raking up a bad reputation for a while now, our government stubborn enough to stay out of climate change summits. That needs to be addressed and unless people understand why urgent attention is needed, the perception of ill-intended environmentalist who oppose economic development will keep on going, much to the detriment of us all.

We need to educate ourselves and our children that health comes with a healthy environment, which can only be done if we apply knowledge and common sense to the world we live in, understanding that non-renewable energy sources can only take us so far and they come with a price too high to pay (recent storms and the hottest summer on record, plus the rapid melting glaciers as well as the disappearance of many canary-in-a-gold-mine species).

Climate change should have been addressed already and education on the subject will shed light on undeniable true-to-form facts: a thriving green industry provides employability for many and break the vicious circle that holds us dependent to finite, polluting resources.

The needs of a community at large (a country’s needs in fact) are many and diverse, and the task to address them all is gargantuan at best. Which is why we need to ask those in power to address the needs of those who are most at risk if not protected: children with special needs, the elderly, low-income families, and veterans, to name a few.

For all of that and more, we need education. From the first day our children ask why, we need to provide truth and knowledge and that should be enough to help promote integrity and help critical thinking tools develop in each and every one of them so that when it’s time to vote, greater good change will be the first to happen.

Compassion Starts Where Judgment Ends

Initially published as  column on AM News, now part of NewsKamloops

This past week I was among the many people who got to see the photo of a little Syrian boy who washed up on the shores of Turkey as a result of the horrific crisis that has thousands of refugees flee Syria. It’s the kind of photo that shakes and rattles people’s hearts, whether they have children or not.

The crisis is not new and there are now 4 million refugees in five host countries and a total of 15 million people in need of assistance inside and outside of Syria, according to Mercy Corps, a humanitarian aid organization presently on site in the Middle East.

While most people were horrified and considered the very image a visual of our failed humanity, some opinions opened the door to controversy and criticism. Peter Bucklitsch, UKip member and parliamentary candidate in the 2015 elections, said the boy was well dressed and well fed and his parents too greedy for the good life in Europe.

His tweet (deleted since) garnered supportive comments alongside highly critical ones. The ones defending the comment said there are plenty of hungry people already in the UK and other European countries lining up for food at food banks, there have been cuts that made impoverished people poorer and increased crime, and an influx of refugees would make matters worse.

Most people called him heartless and worse. Factually speaking, the comment is nothing but harsh judgment applied to people he knew nothing about and, from a compassionate point of view, there is little more one should say about a dead child other than ‘that is sad and unfortunate, unacceptable by anyone’s standards.’

Others argued that there are many children dying, not just in Syria, but in Ukraine and Africa and that a photo should not steal the front page the way this one did.

These are strange times indeed, where we can show our best or worst sides. There is no competition regarding children dying and where it happens most, and there should be no ‘us versus them’ either. A child that dies is one too many. To argue that too much attention is being given to one cases versus the others causes us all to lose track of what’s important and engage in useless rhetoric.

They do not call this situation a crisis for nothing. While political analysts are not entirely surprised to see how far it got, there are no adequate words to properly describe it either, which is why photographs are worth more than any. European governments have been accused of having supported the US war on the Middle East and North Africa for more than a decade, which lead to the displacements and desperation we see today.

It is overwhelming to say the least. More than half of the Syrian refugees are under the age of 18. In the context of the Western societies protecting their young ones, often to the point of bubble-wrapping, we have to think of what children in war-torn countries witness and go through, and what that says about our world as a whole.

There is no us and them, really. Race, colour and religion do not matter when we are witnessing a humanitarian crisis like the one taking place in Syria.

Some people wonder why anyone would opt to get themselves in shoddy boats in order to cross the Mediterranean Sea, putting themselves and their families, including children and infants, at risk of losing their lives.

Desperation is a mighty beast.

What would we all do if our country was subject to a war such as the one in Syria? How many of us would be willing to live in camps or outside of camps, never making an attempt to flee in search of a better life? How many of us would risk anything for that one chance to have it better for ourselves and our children?

I would argue that the world, troubled and exhausted as it seems, has enough resources still for all who live on it. When there is a will created by compassion in face of tragedy, there is a way to carry out good deeds.

It is easy to express judgment when removed from a situation. Trouble is, judgment stops compassion in its tracks. Whether we are talking about the missing Aboriginal women in Canada and the governmental lack of attention to it, or the human slavery that is still very much alive and an unfortunate part of the western world commercial goods market, or the humanitarian crises happening in many places around the world, allowing compassion to have a front seat reminds us of a simple truth: we are only as human as we allow ourselves to be by opening our minds and abstaining from judgment so that compassion can thrive instead.

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