Gratitude makes the journey better and so does kindness

Month: June 2017

It’s All Connected And Life Depends On It

Originally published as a column on CFJC Today Kamloops on June 26, 2017. 

A few things have happened in the last few days. The Rae Fawcett Breast Health Clinic at RIH is now officially open in Kamloops, after being active for a month already, providing women with streamlined care, from examinations to diagnostic. A beautiful example of putting money to good work – the Fawcett family has donated $1 million towards the centre.

This comes as positive news after the recently released study by the Canadian Cancer Society. The report predicts that 1 in 2 Canadians will develop cancer during their lifetime, and 1 in 4 will die because of it. Can you say dire?

The report states that the rather dark predictions have to do with with aging. An aging population is indeed subject to more chronic disease, that is what we learn. With a catch: the report places old age past the age of 50. Wait, that is not that old, I can hear many say. True. Life does not take a downturn after you turn 50. Not if lifestyle choices include healthy eating, exercise, and stress-busting strategies of some sort, be it volunteering, reading, gardening, making time for precious family time, you name it.

When I first learned about cancer, I also learned that if a person lives long enough, they’ll eventually develop the dreaded disease simply because the cells in their body age.  The DNA ages too and that induces changes that translate into the ultimate cellular havoc we all know about. Yes, all true, except that ‘old age’ in this case was placed closer to 100 than at the halfway mark like mentioned above.

So, many will say, that refers to the older people. Young ones are safe then? I wish I could say yes, yet before the young population feels relieved, here’s some sobering thought bites:

  • Cancer is often intertwined with lifestyle choices: radiation exposure, smoking, unhealthy food consumption which leads to obesity, combined with lack of physical activity. Genetics plays a role as well, that is true, but giving ourselves to fate alone would be disempowering to say the least
  • Young people and even children do develop cancer, and the rates of cancer in kids under the age of 19 have been increasing over the last decades. That treatment and survival chances have also gone up is true, but that does not change the increased rates.
  • In many types of cancer, the risk of recurrence can be significantly lowered by daily physical exercise. Moderate intensity, that is, and performed for a certain length of time, benefit both body and mind, mood if you prefer, a definite helper in beating cancer
  • Our world is getting more chemically loaded by the day. Of the chemicals that are found in our homes, work places and in the great outdoors, especially in various bodies of water, many are found to be carcinogenic, or potentially carcinogenic. Exposure matters. ‘Nuff said.

It so happened that the latter is made more relevant by news pertaining to events such as the Mount Polley spill disaster. As of April 7, 2017, the BC Ministry of the Environment has granted permission to Mount Polley Mining Corporation to transfer their mining waste water into Quesnel Lake. Entertaining the thought of having to drink water from what used to be a pristine source, but is now laced with many chemicals from the spill, which was never fully cleaned up to begin with, is enough to make one shudder. Yet people will.

It will take years to see the unfortunate consequences of drinking polluted water years from now. That water was deemed clean and safe by government official through environmental assessments that might or might not be biased, and by the corporate management team who likely gets their drinking water from a different source, only adds to the controversy and the wrongness of it.

Kamloops has been in the decision trenches regarding the Ajax mine for a few good years now. We’ve heard it all and then some, the pros and cons. In the wake of the report that the Canadian Cancer Society released, I feel compelled to say that in every decision we make, as individuals, or as communities, health should be first on the list. Truly, we have nothing if health is affected.

Should a mine or any other project be built, strict safety standards closely monitored by a government that has the best of its citizens in mind, that would allow for an economic boost without the risks. If priorities other than health crowd the list, we will simply get used to getting dire stats, shrugging once we have digested the news and opt for… well, adapting, which is what one radio show host was suggesting as a solution for dealing with climate change.

Adaptation is a wonderful gift that the living world is blessed with, but there’s only that much we can stretch the concept until it becomes another nail in the coffin. And until proven otherwise, no scary-sounding stats will make a corporate heart bleed and turn a compassionate eye towards the community its profits come from.

It comes down to every one of us getting the facts and making individual and community-wide decisions that will ultimately enhance quality of life, long-term, for everyone. That’s partly how I think a cancer prediction-beating strategy could work.

I’ll Meet You Where Humbleness Grows

Gratefulness is this wonderfully easy-to-forget thought that we stumble upon every now and when we do, we say ‘of course I am.’ Right? On a good day, I remember the thanks, the smiles that go with them, and yes, I am noticing the sun dancing on a bee’s wings.

Life takes any opportunity to remind of all sides of any story though. My daily forays in the park with pup on my side is where many of the reminders come about.

Graceful enough, on any given day, I oblige and show gratefulness for the buzzing that surrounds the tall, yellow-tufted mustard weeds and for the world of tall grasses that hug my legs with long, sharp blades of green and seedy heads.

On any given day, I give my thanks for the silence that is punctuated with the clinking sound of the pup’s tags ringing her presence. Near, far, near, hiding, stop… smell, jump, near, far, near. I stop, she stops. For the sky that traps my gaze in its vivid blue streaked with long, wispy clouds.

I am grateful for the resident hawk that belongs in that blue as much as clouds do; for the graceful circles he traces up there, and for how I can let time sink under my feet as I stop and stare. Grateful for not having to rush, for the humility that I find in walking as the hawk flies, high and wordlessly loud.

On any given day, I am grateful for noticing two round eyes peeking through the foggy-white leaves of a Russian olive tree. A doe, ever so inconspicuous, silently nestled in the warm sand. I give my thanks to the doe through the secrecy I commit to. I do not betray her presence to pup, who translates gratefulness of encounters into mad chases. She’ll never catch up to any deer but the chase is what she’s after.

Last night, a doe we met on the trail stared, as we did too. No chasing by pup, no unnecessary moves for a few long minutes. Just long gazes that needed no deciphering. No explanation other than the gratefulness of sharing time and transcending what we think of communication for a few minutes.

On any given day, it feels like the park with all its green extravaganza of grasses, birds, bugs, and frothy creeks is ours; we stroll, pup and I, with the confidence of knowing its secrets and its songs.

Humbleness never sends a harbinger, that much I know. This morning we walk the same way we always do. We take the path, the bridge, poking the cloud of sweet overgrown summer grasses as we rush through.

Rustling in the brush nearby gives someone’s presence away. Pup’s ears perk up. Startled, she barks. On the side of the path, barely hiding, two young people sit among weeds and scattered belongings. The man looks up, eyes glazed and slurry words barely making their way out as I apologize for my intruding dog.

The woman’s face is covered by long, black hair and she throws a sideway confused look. Sadness overwhelms me as I leave them to it. ‘It’ means injected drugs. Right there, off the path, steps away from people walking dogs and chatting about the day being a good one. Lost souls. I felt conflicted about the privilege I have. To walk, carefree, pup included, through place where I see but beauty and I am reminded of gratefulness. To see and feel the world as is: hurting at times, but beautiful and surprising on any given day.

Today I am reminded of more. Of how deep the wounds that hurt us humans run, of how profound their print on our soul, of how easy it is to be smug when all is lined up and society nods upon you approvingly, and how easy it is to forget that that when people find themselves trapped on the dark side of life, judgment is often what most of us have to offer.

We know judgment distances us from where humanity belongs, but fear of looking at darkness and relating to it (because let’s face it, there’s shreds of darkness in every one of us) makes us push our belonging efforts to where the light is.

Tomorrow, pup and I will pass by the spot where the young couple was. She’ll smell the grasses and wonder, and I will be reminded that gratefulness comes in dark tones as well as bright ones. That I need a whole lot of humbleness to remember that.

Our Societal Habit Of Not Facing The True Cost Of Life

Originally published as a column on CFJC Today Kamloops and Armchair Mayor News on June 19, 2017. 

A few days ago, I was caught, yet again, in a conversation about lawns in Kamloops. How they should be green and the fact that some people manage to maintain them green all summer despite heat and water shortages, is but proof that it can and it should be done. Aesthetics matter.

Indeed, water shortage is not the first thing that comes to mind these days. After seeing creeks and rivers inflate with snowmelt, and lakes growing to scary sizes, many would think we have too much water to begin with, so why not water lawns daily or at least every other day to prevent dryness from setting in?

Because freshwater supplies are limited. Yes, Canada has plenty of it, but a recent assessment of the watersheds by the WWF Canada (where data exists, though information is generally lacking), concluded that many of our precious freshwater sources are under threat due to pollution, climate change and excessive water use to name a few. An average daily consumption of 330 litres of water per person – though some communities do not even have clean water for drinking – places us among the highest consumers in the world.

It’s estimated that 5 litres per day are the minimum necessary to be able to survive. If you go to half of that you enter desperation zone, barely surviving, yet how many of us can picture living on 2 litres of water a day? To think that flushing a toilet sends 6 litres down the drain, (for the new efficient ones that is!) adds to the mind boggle.

Going back to watering our lawns to keep them green, more so in our arid environment; the very enterprise seems not only futile and illogical but irresponsible, given the actual price of freshwater. And yet we do so, on top of flushing our large reservoir toilets, taking daily long showers and baths if we please, and washing our laundry by the half-loads if we want to. Water price is simply not a concern.

We’re not better when it comes to food either. A recent undercover footage of severe animal abuse by chicken catchers at a facility in Chilliwack is shocking proof of that. But that’s not the most shocking thing about it. It’s the fact that we already know that. Cheap, highly abundant food comes with a very high price.

If many years ago the price of large agricultural operations was not known, social media and animal rights activists brought a level of awareness few can deny. We know the truth.

And just like that, we know that many people in poor countries are caught in slavery, making many of the goods we so lavishly buy, throw away, buy some more of and upgrade as we see fit because for us it’s not a matter of life and death but of saving money to get to the next desired item. We know that the amount of garbage we produce is overwhelming and that many unwanted items (broken electronics for example) end up in toxic piles that poor people in other countries disassemble for a few cents if that.

Whether we want to acknowledge it or not, cheap and disposable comes with a lot of suffering, whether it is people, animals, or the environment. As a society, we have come to accept that. Some of us go the extra mile and start small businesses with fairly-traded items. Other vow to buy slavery-free, suffering-free items and thus pressure even larger retail stores and corporations to clean up their act. Every decision, no matter how small, and every conversation that brings knowledge and awareness to the table leads to change.

There is a price to pay for being oblivious to suffering and it’s increasing with each day we take our focus elsewhere. As with many things, when the pain, whatever its nature is, strikes closer to home, perspective changes and willingness to do things differently increases.

After installing water meters, a few municipalities saw that people reduced their water consumption. Knowledge brings awareness, and that pushes people to acting differently. The more, the better.

Witnessing animal abuse and having periodic scares about various bacteria outbreaks in our food supply should be enough to start a loud enough conversation that would be heard by many. That a few workers got fired is more of a band-aid solution that has the media satisfied but does not truly solve the problem.

Educating ourselves to ask, ‘What is the actual price of ___________?’ as we go about our lives may seem like hard work and rather depressing too. Yet taking one skeleton out of the closet after another and adopting better ways to life, makes for widespread lightness of being for so many others.

It takes courage to learn, to talk about, and most of all to change things. But it may just be one of the most worthwhile endeavours we engage in, personally and as a society. Choosing to live in a way that does not have us avoid the truth or have it twisted it by a cohort of PR people who ultimately provide us with a license to keep on hurting, is but an honourable and honest way to be. It makes for a better journey, or, if you prefer, good karma.

Holding Onto Hope Is The Only Way Out

Originally published as a column in CFJC Today and Armchair Mayor News on Monday, June 5, 2017. 

I admit to no longer looking forward to checking the news. After a weekend spent with my family, out of reception, on the shore of a little-known lake near Little Fort, the return to the fast-moving, permanently-connected-to-the-internet world, is nowhere near pleasant.

We had a weekend of stories and adventures, laughter over the silly antics of a dog so happy to be exploring the woods and jumping into the lake as she pleased, and full of the togetherness that words like ‘family camping’ do not do justice to. We went paddling in early mornings and late evenings when the water is as smooth as glass and the haunting calls of the loons are but wrapping around your thoughts like vines.

The phone was but a camera. When we left on Friday I was still processing the troubling thoughts caused by the US president’s decision to withdraw his country from the Paris climate change agreement. Overwhelming is an understatement. We are not yet in dire straights environmentally speaking, not over where we are anyway, but the threads that hold it all together disappear with every bad decision.

Lately I have been immersed in a book called ‘The right to be cold’ by Sheila Watt-Cloutier. It is a fascinating read with lots of Inuit history and, at the same time, an accurate and heartbreaking description of the way life in the Arctic has been affected by many factors, mainly climate change. The climate change-induced transformations of the Arctic world are happening twice as fast compared to changes in the rest of the world. A cautionary tale at best.

Yet, there are still climate change deniers. That I will never understand. I’d do but one thing to appeal to their minds and hearts: I’d take them to one of the many places where the sun splashes on a lake trying to coax waterlilies to reach to the surface, and you feel dwarfed by trees of all kinds shading delicate fairy slippers, wild strawberry flowers and newly emerged arnica flowers. Then I’d ask: What if this corner of paradise and many others would cease to exist? What if basic life needs could no longer be satisfied because the planet is simply not enabling for it?

There is still time. There’s hope.

A recent study done in Germany concluded that planting trees to sink carbon is simply not enough to counteract the effects of climate change. Though trees do absorb carbon dioxide as they grow, which makes new trees grow a lot faster due to its high concentrations these days, we would need immense surfaces – the equivalent of all the agricultural land plus some more, if we are to slow down climate change. We need to let go of fossil fuels and focus on alternatives.

Yet letting go of hope is not an option, no matter how deeply disturbing one president’s decision to embrace denial is. Hope we must, hope we will. There are still many countries (some US states too), committed to act towards making life on earth last, Canada included, which is a comforting thought.  Yes, Canada will have to forgo pipelines and dams and LNG soon enough if the commitment is to be a fruitful one.

That was, as I said, the thought context in which I entered the blissful ‘out of reception’ zone with my loved ones. Upon our return, connection grabbed onto our phones half an hour or so after leaving the campsite.

We got home, unloaded, scrubbed dishes, and sorted through the camping gear to store it away till next time. It was my oldest who checked the news first. There was another attack in London, he said.

More people senselessly killed, others critically wounded, more fear and terror spreading, more questions that will remain, once again, unanswered.

I know this is but the one of the facets news outlets focus on. I know that the famine in South Sudan is beyond tragic and millions are on the brink of death due to starvation and diseases; that boats of hopeful migrants, many of whom children, still engage in crossing the Mediterranean in search of a better life, and that the Middle East is still ravaged by bombings, and senseless dying happens everywhere you look.

It’s that and more that made me steer away from connecting back to the world. It’s sad, it’s scary, it’s angering, and it’s not going to end anytime soon, unfortunately. Yet, just like I stated above, it’s hope we must commit to. There simply is no better way.

Hope makes anger dwindle; when solutions are needed, rather than more resentment, hope, and willingness to hold onto what makes us human (kindness is what comes to mind first) must be strengthened. It’s the hardest thing at times.

Whenever dark, hopeless thoughts invade my mind, I seek the one refuge that somehow stays unaltered every time: the hope that the world can be changed. It takes many (most of us?) but it’s possible. Somehow, some of the areas of the drawing board on which we sketch life have become blackened by horror acts and fear. But the big picture can still be lit up if enough well-wishing hands keep on sketching bright, hopeful bits of life. It takes many. Most of us and each of us.

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