Daniela Ginta, Freelance Writer

Gratitude makes the journey better. Kindness, too.

Category: Armchair Mayor Column Page 28 of 33

Lessons From Magpies

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On March 26, 2015

In Armchair Mayor Column, Environment, Kamloops, Life Stories, Self-improvement, Social issues

Initially published as a column in the AM News on Friday, March 20, 2015. 

The most magpies I have seen at one time in our front yard is six. It was January and everything was covered in deep snow then and the six birds were an instant one-of-a-kind decoration for an otherwise barren, dormant tree.

They often scratched in the snow for delicacies only a bird could appreciate and one spot was of particular interest. Enough to steal my attention from writing.

My desk is adequately positioned to provide the best lookout and, aside from the elderly couple that looks up and waves every day as they pass by our house, the magpies have been a welcome interruption since I noticed their elegant attire.

Now there are two left and one seems to be particularly active collecting twigs for a secret project hidden in the cedar hedge. It has to be the nest. According to my reference book, the female preps the inside of the nest, while her partner builds the outside.

They belong to this neighborhood as much as every other resident, and more so.

On my runs on the trails nearby I see crows doing the same this time a year. Twigs, dirt, soft feathers and grass will make it all right for the baby birds to come. The one thought that stuck with me one of these mornings was that their rituals have never changed. Perpetual building of nests every spring, responding to instincts so strong that nothing can stop them from doing what they’ve been doing forever.

The adjacent thought was the unfortunate interference of us humans in all of that nature-driven dance. We do it for many reasons, while often forgetting that the first thing we should do is try to understand nature and how everything works, from the tiniest critter to the most imposing. That in itself would provide a natural barrier towards stomping our feet where we’re not supposed to.

Yet these days we interfere without putting in the due diligence of knowing more, or enough to do it right.

As the provincial government was unfolding the plans to kill wolves in order to protect the dwindling herds of caribou, I wrote a couple of articles about the unfairness of it – given that human encroachment on caribou habitat should be the first to be addressed.

It was suggested to me at the time that I read Ernest Thompson Seton’s story called ‘Lobo, the king of Currumpaw’. So I did. I picked up a copy of ‘Wild Animals I Have Known’ and read more than the wolf story.

I’ve always been a nature lover; no creature was too small or unworthy of consideration. Yet Seton’s accounts of his encounters added an extra layer of dedication to the cause. It takes time to understand nature. Beyond the figure of speech, being observant for long enough, you are rewarded with facts that will deepen your respect for every living thing. There is so much we do not know. Fascination redefined.

Such was Seton’s gift, and so many others’, from old times and new, and the message is one: everything in nature has a purpose, and it is a privilege that we can be part of it. As of late (make that the last couple of centuries here in North America), we have overstepped our welcome in ways that can be described as callous and irresponsible at best.

During the few months of homeschooling my eldest, we focused on Canadian history as one of our subjects. As if the subject to a conspiracy theory of some sort, a common refrain kept surfacing in regards to many aspects of life in early Canada.

Animals were plentiful, until greediness drove many to the brink of extinction. Land and water creatures were hunted, trapped and fished until there was nothing left. Nothing is without end, save for time itself.

Nature’s resilience is well known though, so conservations and repopulation strategies brought many back. Yet despite many successes, repopulating areas once devoid of animals is often less successful than expected. A lesson we should learn from.

If lack of knowledge was a justifiable excuse then, what is our excuse now?

The wolf cull that started a month ago continues. It will be so for the next five years. At the same time, not nearly enough has been done to see the caribou habitat from human activity, the real culprit in the decline.

The grizzly bear trophy hunt that will see somewhere around 300-400 grizzlies killed, unless cancelled, will add another black eye to the already bruised reputation of a province that proudly displays on many a license plate ‘The most beautiful place on Earth’.

Words can be as pompous as we want them to be, yet the provincial government has been on a course to undermine the very thing we are so proud of by allowing animals to be killed for fun or in a shortsighted strategy to protect other species; it allows for parks and pristine areas to be mined and pipeline-invaded while the reality of climate change presses for renewable resources and conservation strategies that should see next generations able to enjoy the same beautiful places we still have around us.

As it turns out, at least 90 per cent of British Columbians oppose the trophy hunt, yet their voices are undemocratically ignored. Many conservationists agree that shooting with the camera and leaving the place as you found it is the way to go. Even that, with care, and with the understanding that we do not own the rights to do as we please but are here to learn how to live and let live.

The magpies – considered by some nothing more than pests – fly in and out of the hedge as I write this. One perches on the tree while the other crosses the street in low flight and returns with a twig of considerable length. There is nothing that makes me think of greediness. The bird makes frequent stops and I cannot help but be charmed by his determination (according to my book that would be the male, and yes, magpies mate for life) to build a good nest for his babies.

Again and again, that makes me think… if only we could stop long enough to observe and learn, if we could add enough thoughtfulness to our actions, that might just give our life and that of our children’s a measure of what we’re truly capable of. Because truth is, we are a brilliant species, yet that should serve to humble us and enable us to raise to such expectations in earnest, rather than entitle us to act as if we’re here to own a place that will, nevertheless, have the last word.

Bills And Morning Runs – Connecting The Dots

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On March 14, 2015

In Armchair Mayor Column, Environment, Self-improvement, Social issues

Originally published as a column in the AM News on March 13, 2015. 

It is 11am and I am out for a run. I get to see far over the grasslands yet my eyes do not make it that far. A river of yellow air sitting on top of the downtown like a lazy impudent snake divides my running grounds from the distant grasslands. It is almost mid-March and there are already rumours of fire bans throughout the Thompson-Okanagan.

These days, bill C-51 is being discussed in Parliament. The two instances of life seem unconnected and yet the connection is as straightforward as it is eerie. Should this bill pass, we will see Canada equipped with a fresh organization capable of grabbing potential terrorists by the throat and stopping them mid-action.

Kind of a police force but with a different name and on steroids, since it will give 17 government agencies (14 of which are not subject to dedicated independent review) that oversee national security access to all information pertaining citizens like me and you. In other words, pray for mercy if you’re it, because this is one mean game of tag.

Privacy Commissioner Daniel Therrien (who was blocked from the committee witness list) points to this and more, adding his name to the the 100 plus academics’ who are urging the government to reconsider the terms of this anti-terrorism legislation that is presented as a tool against those who threaten our national security, but has the power to analyze our every bit of data, personal and otherwise.

Which, we are told, is a good thing, because it ensures our safety. If you get past the part where you have to define who the ‘us’ is and who will be cast as the ‘bad guys’.

Could the people who stand for their right to speak and act in the interest of democracy and other civil liberties that we proudly display to the world be labelled as terrorists? That’s one of the fears some of the MPs and independent observers have.

It is sunny and the sky is painted in clouds. It is beautiful, yet the yellow air feels heavy in the distance. I will be heading home soon to work on some articles about the continuous use of bisphenol A and flame retardants despite of their now clearly demonstrated albeit ‘invisible’ to the unaware consumer due to their hidden nature (literally) but also due to the reassurance people get and count on from their government.

Then I will be tackling the dilemma of trains versus pipelines. Just last weekend another train transporting crude oil derailed in northern Ontario, and that is just two weeks after another train derailment causing an oil spill in a close-by area. A bitumen spill in Alberta in the Peace River country makes one stop before saying … ‘so pipelines are safer.’ They are not. Nor are trains. Everything that we do involves risks and consequences.

The dilemma train vs. pipeline has been on the lips of many a citizens lately. Those who keep their minds open and are able to see that our world is undergoing some pains we may not be ready to deal with (on a local scale, imagine a long summer of wild fires and dwindling water supplies because other areas need water just as badly for their own fires) ask another question: if there are alternatives, why don’t we use them?

I have been researching the tar sands (and have so much to learn still) and when the news came that environmental groups are under surveillance and more, I had the uncomfortable feeling of reading flagged material. It made me think of the many stories I heard in my birth country about the government surveying people who believe in values that have no dollar sign attached to them

Will writing about this get me in trouble now or later? Will our collective children learn to whisper rather than talk because someone may be listening? Will we turn on each other to keep safe from powers we cannot see but who will be behind corners we turn every day? Am I overreacting? How 1984ish of me.

Democracy is a gift that a country offers to its citizens. It ensures freedom and rights. And freedom is a mighty big word that stands for a concept we need to keep around us like we need air to breathe.

Hence my parallel. The yellow air does not ensure freedom to breathe, unless we choose to close our eyes and see it as such. Unless we choose to be complacent about it. Watching over people to make sure their safety is in place is what we expect our government to do, but we expect them to do it right, in a way that does not impend on our freedom.

Much has been said about that since the latest sad incidents that saw two Canadian soldiers killed. Terrorism, mental health, lack of resources, the list could goes on, but pointing at them without acting to changing is a useless, redundant activity.

There will be threats, unfortunately, even more so in the context of increased world turmoil that transcends country boundaries and sees people enslaved to the wrong beliefs. Even more of a reason to approach a bill such as C-51 with caution and an open mind. And allowing all parties who stand for human rights and democracy to have a say and be listened to.

We cannot allow anyone for any reason to unravel the democratic tapestry our predecessors have fought hard to weave. So we have to strive to know how to prevent that, because knowledge is power. The good, we’re-in-it-together kind of power that allows you the freedom to look at the sky and wonder what can be done if the blue is no longer blue enough.

Education Should Not Be About Money But About Critical Thinking

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On February 13, 2015

In Armchair Mayor Column, Kamloops, Learning, Life Stories, Self-improvement, Social issues

Initially published as a column in the AM News on February 6, 2015. 

I grew up in a country where I had access to free university education. It seemed logical. I had to pay to live in the dorms and I had to pay for food, of course, and I also had to pay for some of the textbooks that were not available to borrow from school (department or library) but most were reference textbooks that I have to this day and have served me for more than one particular course with a final exam.

My graduate studies here opened my eyes about paid education. I could pay my tuition from scholarships and by teaching in my particular field, but the undergrads I was teaching often complained about having to work and study at the same time. Some could barely made ends meet, coming from underprivileged families but they were very keen on learning; their debt grew with every year of studying.

I also had many students that arrived to school in expensive sports cars and could not care less about the way cells uptake glucose. There were arguments about marks, haggling over fractions of a mark and an attitude that was that I had to deliver something that will push one’s social status to a higher tier. I guess the perception was that if one pays, the goods should be delivered and they’d better be worth the price.

That was when I started having the distinct feeling that such a conflict of interest might breed trouble. The story repeated itself during my years of teaching at a private post-secondary school. Some students believed that though they were paying (and more so, because they were paying money that did not come easy to them) they had to work hard and make it worthwhile. Others believed education to be some sort of merchandise that was being bought with money. A certain sense of entitlement was often looming over their heads and it was affecting the learning process.

Many a conversation with people who have to pay for their own education bear a bitter taste. Tuition is high and increasing, quality of education often low because, many feel, every paying student has to be caught in the safety net that will not allow very many to fall behind, whether they truly have something to show for it or not, and then, there are the exorbitant prices for textbooks that, on being resold after merely a semester, bring but a fraction of the money back (percentages may vary depending on the discipline and institution.)

Tuition, I was told by a second year student, includes a bus pass which she uses occasionally, but some do not use at all, it also includes daycare costs (she has yet to have a child in need of a daycare), and union fees; thus, fee by fee, tuition meant to open the avenue to higher education becomes an avenue towards frustration.

Should education cost so much? Getting a loan these days becomes increasingly difficult. Between not having well-to-do parents and/or acceptable co-signors, many a student willing to learn are pushed out of line because they cannot afford it.

The cost of living even in a city like Kamloops is increasing, rent and food, and many have trouble paying for textbooks that rake bills in the hundreds just for one semester, which makes one wonder about it all. Should education be free and standards higher, wouldn’t the whole society benefit after all?

By higher standards of learning I do not mean forcing kindergarteners to read before their time or promoting competitiveness at the expense of true knowledge and common sense, but rather allowing them to learn at their own pace while providing them with enough time to play and express their creativity and encouraging them to develop critical thinking as they see the significant adults in their lives use theirs.

As soon as we put a price on education, everyone suffers. The learners in the first place, the instructors, and the society. By promoting values and true knowledge, with no price tag, students feel like they have truly achieved something when they graduate from school, be it elementary, high school, university or post graduate) and moving forward. I have heard from high school students and university students as well that they do not feel challenged enough so when they finish school they almost feel like frauds. That is a sinking feeling.

On the other hand, no one benefits from anyone entering society with superficial knowledge or barely any knowledge, just like we do not benefit from people doing jobs without much passion and just for the monetary gain. We see critical thinking and common sense missing; in politics, at a family level, in all types of learning institutions and workplaces, we see it everywhere and at all levels.

Education should not be about money but about learning and acquiring knowledge not just for personal benefit but in order to bring a contribution to the society that has enabled us to get an education to begin with. When financial issues get entangled with education, a certain bias is bound to overshadow the noble and worthy endeavor of acquiring true knowledge.

A first discussion topic on many an education board should perhaps be disentangling the learning and finances for everyone’s gain… for the greater good, you could say, and that is a lofty goal for any society where critical thinking and knowledge are valued.

It’s High Time We Give Our Buying Power A Shake-up

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On February 5, 2015

In Armchair Mayor Column, Environment, Kamloops, Learning, Self-improvement, Social issues

Initially published as a column in the AM News on Friday January 30, 2015. 

I had forgotten my reusable bags at home that time and had to choose between plastic and buying another reusable bag. Too much plastic as it is, I thought, so I chose the latter.

After I got home I realized that the reusable one had a plastic insert on the bottom. Right. To keep things steady and prevent the usual crowding of groceries and falling on top of each other. A first world problem indeed. The insert, made from ordinary plastic bearing no recycling sign, defeats the very purpose of it all.

I was misled and felt uncomfortable. No one likes that. More so when the buying of something I believed greener than a mere plastic bag (many of which are recyclable, not that that makes it better) turned out to be the wrong decision. Greenwashing at its best.

Here’s the thing. Ever since we open our eyes to the world of commerce, we are being told that the customer’s wishes are the merchant’s desires. If only that’d be true. Once upon a time it was.

One cannot notice that things have shifted sideways for a while now. The merchant, backed up by crafty marketing gurus designing the offer, present it to the customers and the rest unfolds. The customers, minds ripe with commercials, promises of this if you buy that, expectations, not to mention the ominous ‘buy now, pay later’, well, it’s easy to fall into the trap (it really is one.)

It is truly scary and overwhelming to try to imagine the amount of goods – excluding food – that are being offered in all stores across the North American continent. Add Europe and Asia and Australia to all of that and it get nauseating.

After the buying comes the garbage and if applicable, recycling. Then, we move on to the next spree of things we do not need but buy anyway to fill spaces that cannot be filled that way anyway.

I am not here to deflate any bubbles, though maybe secretly that is the idea. I just cannot wrap my head around why the merchandise one can find in today’s stores often include completely useless items made from questionable or downright toxic materials, many of which are geared towards children (who are learning to equate happiness with being able to buy one more thing.)

At the same time, garbage grows, people complain of unhappiness and busy schedules, working long hours that deliver the means to buy more stuff we do not need, while stealing away any hope of spending time doing what we love and matters. Ultimately, ‘having’ just doesn’t deliver what the flyer promised.

We are, in many ways, at a crossroad. Climate change is more of a subject (and reality) than it has ever been, there are battles over approving and/or regulating products, including foods and chemicals that end up in our homes or around them, and there are debates over pipelines and mines and fracking.

It is enough to give one a headache. In some ways we seem to have lost our way while faced with so many opportunities to get rich (for some), to buy more (for many) and, should guilt or that little thought that says ‘I have enough’ ever come begging for attention, we have entertainment to chase them away.

Yet reality and truth have the annoying habit of showing up in front of us. Not always civilized and ready to spell it out for us, but rather aggressively throwing it in our faces. Pollution is high in many parts of the world, and because of it the health of many suffers, children and the elderly most of all.

The oceans carry more plastic than ever and more is coming, because we buy and throw more plastic, and more pristine land is being sacrificed to grow palm trees, create feedlots and extract natural resources. Hardly respectful towards the blue planet we all hail as unique.

We are at an important crossroad. We need to assert the power to do exactly what we were once told (and many times over since) we can do: have our wishes satisfied by those who are benefiting from our needs.

It is so. With every choice we each make in how we buy or not buy things, in what we buy and what refuse to buy because we think it unethical, toxic, unhealthy or environmentally wrong, we force the big river called consumption steer a bit in a better direction.

We might have to forgo a few things along the way. Simplicity is a beautiful thing. It helps us make time for what matters. It helps fill the spaces that cannot be filled with anything else.

It helps us help the world get cleaner, our kids breathe easier, have fewer chemicals around to absorb and ingest, and it will remind us of some of the reasons we’re here. To make every day count, to make a difference, no matter how small, to leave the world a tad better than we found it; to know, most of all, that is it up to us, to each of us really, to make good things happen.

It’s a Together Thing – A Kamloops Story

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On January 27, 2015

In Armchair Mayor Column, Kamloops, Life Stories, Social issues

(Initially published as a column in the AM News on January 24, 2015)

I saw her talking to someone in a parked car as I was walking towards mine. Then she wobbled her way towards my car. I was already in when I noticed she was standing by the passenger’s window.  I rolled it down.

At first I could not understand what she was saying. She had no teeth and her words were coming out mangled. She must’ve been 65 or so, maybe older.

‘Can you drive me to the Crossroads please? I will give you ten dollars.’

I bought a few seconds of thinking with a somewhat troubled smile, but realized soon enough that I could not say no. I just couldn’t. And I did not want to take her money either.

I said I will. She smiled and climbed in. Slipping on ice made her movements rather awkward. She had an almost empty bottle in one hand and was clutching an old purse with the other. She smelled of booze; that answered the question about the empty bottle. She poured the rest out.

The side of the road was icy and the car slipped a few times. I felt the woman’s gaze on me as I was trying a few maneuvers.

‘We can do it, me and you. Try again. Put it in reverse.’ Her voice was encouraging and the words were coming out less fragmented.

We got unstuck and drove away.

‘You’re a good driver,’ she said full of admiration. Right. If only. I laughed and said thank you. I felt a bit uneasy as we all do when something unusual happens, but I knew this was more than driving someone a few blocks through the downtown.

I turned right and drove into the heart of the downtown. The sun made the ice glitter and it looked pretty. I thought of how many people in this very city will not see that or hate it altogether for that is what you do when it’s cold and all that means warmth has been peeled off of your existence.

‘My name is Joanne. What is yours?’

I said my name and she repeated it slowly.

‘Are you named after your mother?’

I said no, my parents just liked the name. For a couple of seconds my mind flew towards one of the many times I asked my mom why she named me Daniela. She would always smile, her own thoughts carrying her to the time when I was born. There was always another story of my early childhood tucked in with the answer. Slices of life that help us understand.

I asked Joanne where was she from. Nova Scotia, she said. ‘I have nine sisters, but I don’t talk to them on the phone.’ I thought of her as a little girl, playing with her sisters and dreaming of growing up and… The contrast with today’s wrinkled face smelling of booze was sad.

What is life? How does it turn its ugly face and ghoul eyes at some of us… Life becomes a beached whale, abandoned on a beach that holds too much garbage, it just does and we often have no answers. It stinks.

Life can flip from gracious to ungracious in a few moments, and the witnesses to the ungracious disappear like scared birds. Ungracious scares us.

Joanne asked if I know where Crossroads is. I do, I answered. It’s the building that used to be an inn and now it is managed by ASK Wellness who made it into a shelter for the homeless. Fragmented life putters around the building at any given time. It’s a place of hope and despair at once.

Joanne repeated my name one more time, quietly, as if to memorize it.

‘Are you mad at me?’ she asked out of the blue. No, I said. Why would I? I hoped no one would be. Then again, being human makes us prone to emotions of all kinds and a person on the edge of life wearing all the paraphernalia of failure often serves like a mirror we’re never ready to stare in.

‘I like your name, it’s beautiful,’ she said as we parked in front of the building. Someone was sleeping on the sidewalk, lost in an old bright green sleeping bag.

Joanne opened the door, stumbled out with the empty bottle in one hand and the purse in the other. She bowed with a big smile and said thank you, leaving me with my thoughts. Sad and bittersweet, grateful that I was given an opportunity to remember that life is not a high note but a repertoire of many, some so low they growl at you, others so high they hurt your thoughts.

Balance and grace. How do we? How do we mask the failure, how do we fall and how do we get up? It matters to have someone to love you, it matters to be truthful to yourself and know that you can do more than humanely possible; you need a hand to help you up sometimes, hugs to remind of warmth and you need to be loved.

What happened to Joanne? Her journey from Nova Scotia to here and to today, what happened along the way?

Compassion starts with looking into someone’s eyes without judgment. It’s the hardest thing. We all carry stories, we carry our own mountains and valleys we crossed since we can remember, we carry guilt and heartache and all the hope one can muster when hope is a flotilla of broken vessels, most submerged… Can you still do it?

Is there an end to hope? I guess hope is like a torch. Some people carry it with them for as long as they can, and then they attempt to pass it on. It’s up to those who are still standing and have strength to take it and carry it forward. To use it to light a fire that will help warm those who are cold, and cook food if they need it.

It’s a together thing. The hope, making the journeys smother for those who have it rough. No one can do it alone. When we can, as much as we can. Never turn your eyes away when another pair of eyes is trying to find yours. You are the lucky one. You are giving hope and are, in turn, given the gift of humbleness.

Like Joanne said… ‘We can do it. Me and you…’

Children Need To Take It Outside (and Us Too)

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On January 22, 2015

In Armchair Mayor Column, Environment, Kamloops, Learning, Life Stories, Motherhood

(Originally published as a column in the AM News on January 16, 2015) 

The good thing about sleeping in an igloo is that when you get up you’re already dressed for the day. In our case, that helped even more since we slept in and woke up at 8am and school was to start half an hour later. We made it though.

Lunches had been packed the night before, so with simple breakfast and a quick fixing of the igloo morning hair, we were on the go soon after, pondering contently over our sleeping in and under the snow.

My youngest wanted to see that happen two years ago when we built the first igloo in the back yard. Back then, we had hot chocolate one night under the snow magic cupola with candles on and that was good, but not enough. We postponed the sleeping in the igloo until it got too late and the said construction was used for impromptu sledding and one-of-a-kind games. Fun but not enough.

Last year’s winter had too little snow to build an igloo, but that changed radically this year with the arrival of truckloads of snow that fell as we made our way into the new year. The igloo had to happen and it did.

A few days later and still in time before any flurries or, God forbid, rain, we decided to make it happen. So we waddled our way in the way penguins do, on our tummies, wiggling all the way in, and became privy to a night sleep like no other.

Yes, the floor did get a bit icy in the meantime, hence less soft than that of a newly built igloo, but many wool blankets and good sleeping bags helped us through. We had a couple of additional breathing holes – no such thing in the arctic where the outside temperatures are less lenient than here – and with all the snuggling in the world, the four of us drifted off to sleep. Hats on, of course.

Stepping outside of one’s comfort zone is always a journey of discovery. Around the dinner table or during other times too, we often talk about the ways of the past. We read about the way people used to live (some still do) and the contrast with today’s comfortable lifestyle bursting at the seams with needed and less needed, or plain useless amenities is truly shocking.

With the everyday journey through life here and now, we want the boys to be mindful of the world around them not in an entitled way, but in a grateful and awe-inspired one. We want them to see the nature not as a medium they have to conquer, dominate and tame so that they are safe, but as an environment that offers protection and enables life by the sheer design of it, and is worth of respect. Moreover, children should be guided by us adults, in harbouring respect for the past and the people of the old who lived in nature, with nature and with knowing that they cannot ruin it, lest their lives will be ruined as well.

We have nowadays apps telling us how whether we are walking fast enough, whether we are sleeping enough and they guide us through the process of buying and cooking our food. We have books and instructions and workshops for everything, and somehow over the course of many generations, we have learned that being inside the walls and having access to a lot keeps us safe and happy. We have become contained.

Comfortable homes and decent living conditions are a great gift of today’s world- albeit not for everyone on the planet unfortunately. Trouble is, if it is not intertwined with reverence towards the living world that is the ultimate and primordial provider of building blocks that allow us to make it happen, we fall, and our children follow swiftly, into the trap of believing we are the masters of it all.

Connecting with nature in ways that allow for contemplation and awe help us trace our steps back and in turn, we help our children understand which way they should go if they want to make the world last. We have to achieve respect for nature, and no, it is not optional, not if we mean for our children to have a planet to live on. Respect and gratitude for life are big yet easy to ignore concepts.

You do not have to be a dedicated environmentalist to realize that our natural world is out of balance, nor do you have to be a parent to think and worry of what lies ahead for today’s children and for all of us who will still be around for a few good decades.

Simplifying our lifestyle short or long term by taking ourselves out of the comfort cradle we have become so accustomed to, helps us revive concepts and instincts that are not gone but merely asleep. Putting ourselves in situations that deprive us of the usual comfort may just be the catalyst for that. Sleeping in the igloo was not the most comfortable in some ways, but it was a revealing experience in all ways.

With no new year resolutions in place still, and through waking up in the middle of the sleeping outside night with the feel of fresh cold air stuck to my face, I realized that I should just stick to the one resolution I try to make every day and often forget, but get reminded of through something like igloo sleeping: to be grateful for the simple things within reach that I need to survive, and immensely grateful for everything else on top of it.

Things I’ve Learned In The Year We Bid Goodbye To

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On January 4, 2015

In Armchair Mayor Column, Kamloops, Learning, Life Stories, Self-improvement

(Originally published as a column on December 26th, 2014 in the AM News)

It’s always a good thing, to draw the line and sum it all up; good and bad, all that was thrown our way to learn from.

You’re never done learning, that much I know and there is a subtle irony that hides behind every ‘I know enough’ that comes out of hiding as soon as you utter the very words. Some sort of a divine punishment if you will, an extra measure of humbling which we all benefit from.

December came to us with the said measure and more, as the main drain pipe in our house broke open and thus created a different kind of hot springs right in our basement. Not only that, the entire mouse population seemed to take shelter from the cold weather right in the house.

We sailed through some challenging weeks of no toilet close by, no shower or laundry on the premises with as much dignity as we could muster. Mouse traps kept on doing their thing while we pondered upon the simple things that were out of each at that time, such as a running toilet need. Too easy to forget and too unfair to do so, given the continual reliance on it.

As the month ended we took off to the coast to spend Christmas with family and friends, not before stopping for a few days on one of the Southern Gulf islands where we left time at the ferry terminal and all we took with us to the small cabin tucked in the woods was a collection of snuggles and lazy mornings to use as we saw fit.

It reminded me of what’s truly precious: time with our loved ones. It’s easy to forget, because life tumbles fast over our heads and spins thoughts into a mound of worries and milestones and things to do that becomes hard to manage and a time thief of its own kind that prevents us from noticing simple joy.

I was reminded of this most precious gift of time and love as my father passed away this summer, after a long suffering that lasted eight years. Memories of my parents – both passed away now – abounded in the last months and pushed me more towards witnessing my own boys’ journey through life, not letting a day go by without acknowledging the wonder of it all.

My oldest is saying goodbye to childhood and entering teenagehood. There is much to see and know about the world for him, and as for me, this is yet another opportunity to witness all of that alongside him and his younger brother, who is becoming an older child.

I was there for all the steps that take a child from reading out letter after letter to reading sentences and then books. It still charms me to see him curled on the sofa with a book much bigger for his hands to hold but not big enough for his mind to open up to…

We discuss matters of large worldly importance and the oscillation between acting all grown up and still clinging to being a young child is not in the least annoying though it is puzzling. I’ve learned to see all of that with a mind that understands the inexorability of time.

If I can think of one think that this year has taught me that would be that it all goes away in a blink. That time and the consequences of our actions, in how we spend our time, in how we earn and spend our money, in how we give and receive – everything from love to time to a listening ear when needed, it all happens in a blink.

This year I’ve learned to never take things or people for granted. You could say I added it to my previous belief that I shouldn’t. But life has it in such a way that we forget.

Nothing is as permanent as we want it to be. Nothing stays the same, but evolves, and often not in ways that are predictable or that fit with our plans. Life doesn’t wait, and if you’ve come to see it once, you may forget but you will be easier reminded of it all once you stop for a moment to observe life’s tumbles.

May that we all do in the year to come, may that we all come to know that what matters is what we have the least of nowadays, and that is time with those who fill our hearts with joy, and a world that we can breathe and exist without fear of skies darkened by our own reckless actions.

May we be aware that we will have, once again, 365 chances to make it count, and we have the power to choose to make it so. Happy New Year!

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