Gratitude makes the journey better. Kindness, too.

Category: Self-improvement Page 18 of 29

The Stuff We Need More Of

 

Originally published as a column on CFJC Today on January 9, 2017. 

Every now and then I come across a quote that resides in my thoughts for days. Such was the case of the words I later discovered to belong to David Orr, professor of environmental studies and politics (quite the combination), writer, and activist.

It goes like this: “The plain fact is that the planet does not need more successful people. But it does desperately need more peacemakers, healers, storytellers, and lovers of every kind. It needs people who live well in their places. It needs people of moral courage willing to join the fight to make the world habitable and humane. And these qualities have little to do with success as we have defined it.”

Truly riveting, isn’t it?

It could sound rather counterproductive and somewhat the opposite of what we’re telling children about life nowadays. That these very words are part of a book called ‘Educational Literacy: Educating Our Children for A Sustainable Future’ makes all the sense and more.

When my oldest son was in grade 1, he asked what being rich meant. I said that though it may seem otherwise, true richness has nothing to do with things but with what we carry inside. It has to do with how much of the stuff that we cannot measure we have. Though he is inching his way towards becoming an adult, should he asked the same question now, I’d tell him the same, though some might think I am depriving him of the much-needed impetus for building a successful career.

A day or two after discovering the above-mentioned quote, I came across two news stories that fueled the debate with myself. One had to do with the salaries of some of the most successful CEOs in Canada; the numbers peppered throughout the report were in the millions, and lots of them. Really, if too many zeroes are used to describe one’s monetary compensation, numbers kind of lose their significance. Unless some of that sum is used to add goodness to the world.

The second story had to do with a Montreal-based small restaurant owner who offers free meals to those in need, no questions asked. That averages to four or five meals a day (and less wasted food.) The ripple effects of the free meals reached further than expected: People who eat there started leaving small sums of money to help cover the cost of the free meals.

If you were ever in a desperate financial situation, even once in your life, you know what a godsend a free meal can be. Compassion invites gratefulness, which in turn invites more compassion. Deep down we all know that. It’s easy to forget to look back, and at times it may seem easy to shrug and hope someone else will take care of the ungracious side of the world.

If success was measured in how much better we can each make the world around us by exercising compassion (and not judging), we’d definitely need as many successful people as we can get.

For the world to carry itself forward with unselfish grace, it is us who need to supply it by raising children who think outside of their own personal boundaries. Moreover, we need to raise children that follow passions, dreams and become fulfilled in ways that go beyond financial success while preserving the kind ways of the heart.

No one ever lost anything in lending a hand. Still, many of us are afraid to commit to it because the amount of wrongness to be fixed seems insurmountable and ever-growing. Many of us are perhaps of the opinion that paying it forward works best in the movies. Every now and then, stories that prove good deeds invite to more of the same surface, and with that, one can hope, the conviction that letting our humanity show is but the right thing to do.

And then again, there is the very opposite of the coin that prompts doubt, anger even. In our community, the recent hit-and-run that took a life and left so much sadness behind shoots down all hope that people carry warmth in their heart no matter what.

There are heinous acts in every part of our world. There are people who act senselessly; they steal, hurt, kill, do irreparable and atrocious damage, and truth is, no one will ever be able to stop that from happening. But the aftermath is where we can lend a helping, healing, loving hand. We live, you could say, in a perpetual aftermath where every day is a good day to start.

Part of doing that is raising compassionate children by making helping those less fortunate common place, and by helping them understand that life and death are but brackets and the in between is where we can make a difference in how we live.

We are all born with smiles sketched across our minds and hearts, yet many peel off as we go. We learn that success involves climbing ladders that often claim the softest parts of our hearts. What we can teach our children is that being successful does not mean leaving compassion behind.

Indeed, in the age of a growing and often ailing population, due to hardship related to climate change, wars and everyday societal wrongness, it may be necessary to forgo the urge to push our children towards one-sided success and help them instead carry on with heartful, giving steps. We’d all be richer for it and smile more.

 

It’s That Promising Time Of The Year

 

Originally published as a column on CFJC Today on January 2, 2017.

img_1035Today, on the first day of the year, I had the sweet chance to hold an 11-day-old baby for a few minutes. It’s a form of therapy you could say. Blissfully unaware of the hubbub around her, the baby slept, and her tiny face with occasional newborn grimaces was mesmerizing.

There I was, having just stepped into the new year hours ago, yet the ‘new’ was no longer attached to the year we have just transitioned into but to this new life that reminded me of my sons, of all the new beginnings we crossed together since, of all the lives mine intersected with since I can remember. ‘New’ is an inebriating concept. The desire to do better, to do more, to do, is a powerful one.

My thoughts curled around the many promises I made at the beginning of each year. Lullabies I promised to sing to my boys but sometimes forgot, too caught up in daily must-do activities to remember, too tired to sing out loud.

Promises to keep grace on my side no matter what, to be a better parent, a better friend (to myself included) and a better spouse, to be all of that with room for more… Life got in the way enough times to bring me to my knees. Some promises you keep and some you break, and that brings the humbleness in, the understanding that it is not the performance that matters in the end but the presence.

That some lullabies were never sang is a fact. The snuggles that became deep slumber at the end of the day are lessons I understood later on. Funny thing, that’s what I remember the most. It is about the presence, rather than about the performance. Doing your best under the given circumstances.

It’s what prevents me nowadays from making new year resolutions of any other kind but the ones that bring me closer and truer to those I love. Presence. When well connected to those we care about, we become better, whether we’re aware of it or not. Presence and unconditional acceptance of each other put the wind in our sails. No date stamped on any promises, all that counts is remembering that we are the ones giving meaning to days rather than the other way around.

We saw the end of a year that packed tragedies of many kinds. Every one of them, whether it was war, drug or accident-caused, brought forth the same: people’s lives were ended. People were lost from the loved ones. There is no antidote for absence.

Every one of the stories I read made me cringe in different ways, yet the thought rising every time was the same: presence is what matters in the end. While we still are, while the ones we care about still are, being present keeps us willing, inspired and discerning of the beauty of the journey rather than the promise of a set-in-stone destination.

This year’s promises have to do with holding someone’s hand when they need it the most and reminding people of the smiles they locked inside and can set free. It’s not the beginning of the new year that gives meaning to the rest of the days but our presence in every one of them that moulds them into meaningful bits of life to cherish.

The stories that I’ve learned about throughout the year that passed reminded me of the one simple truth we’re all too often guilty of forgetting: everyone is fighting a battle or more, everyone is carrying a story within. Many have but shreds of happiness in them, yet presence makes everything hurt less.

We are born craving presence, that’s what holding the new baby reminded me. It’s not a feature that requires upgrades or special talents. It requires us to slow down to be someone’s parent, someone’s child or spouse or friend. May this year be the one when we do it a bit more than last year or the years before.

Happy New Year to all!

The Many Kinds Of Magic

Originally published as a column on CFJC Today on December 26, 2016. 

Merry Christmas!It was after 11pm on Christmas Eve that my husband and I took the dog out for a walk. It was quiet. Magic of a different kind. Snow crunched under our feet as we walked, the dog sniffed this way and that, and Christmas lights shone beautifully on so many houses along the way.

The path took us to the Christmas house on Pine and 6th.

The wealth of garlands is enough to make you go wide-eyed every time. Say what you will about excess and wasted electricity, the thing is the lights make people smile. Inside and outside smiles too. That the lights have been a way for the owner, Louise Edwards, to relieve some of the weight her counselling job brought into her life, is not to be ignored either. Stories of pain and grief, stories of hope and recovery, humanity surfacing through each blinking or steady light around her yard. As sobering as it is jolly.

That time of night you could hear a trickle of carols from some garlands wrapped around sleepy, snow covered bushes.

We stopped a while to listen. Fragments of life surfaced. Christmas does that to a person. Not having my parents around anymore adds a layer of sadness that will never go away. Hanging on to memories, dusting them off as I tell the boys stories about my Christmases past, feeling a bit more that emptiness left by my parents’ passing, feeling the richness of having learned so much from them while they were still around and afterwards too.

Quiet tears added to the sparkles laid all over trees, bushes, and house. The unseen side of Christmas, the roots that go deeper each year and gain more significance, the simple truth of what matters in the end: the time we get to be with those we love, the time we find to understand that each of us carries the story of laughter and tears, grief and happiness. All transient, all worth every second of their ephemeral nature.

An invisible owl hooted from a tree as we left, adding eeriness to our quiet night walk. Another piece of magic added.

Today, Christmas midday found us on a frozen lake, lost in an ocean of white. Dog and kids and grownups stepping on each other tracks, swapping laughter, memories, stories and steaming cups of coffee. It will all be shelved for later Christmases, it will all be remembered and treasured. It’s the simple things, the time put into just that… simplicity.

On our way home we pass by the hospital. Another slice of life with a flavour so different than what most of us associate Christmas with. I think of all who sit by someone’s bedside, of all those who are hanging onto life or are about to say their goodbyes; I think of dear friends who carry their suffering with so much grace and how much I have learned from that, mostly to never forget to say a prayer. Thoughts like that always find their way to those you think them for…

I think of babies being born, of the joy trailing behind them, of all the hope they bring and all the precious lessons they bring along, as every human does. If only we’d pause long enough to pay attention…

I think of those who work on the day when most of us have our loved ones around, whatever their work may be. Just being present and willing when most of us take a break. Time offered as a gift, a different kind of offering.

It redefines gratefulness, our dependence of each other, our ability to give if we choose to, and our need to swap the roles of giving and receiving every now and then so we can reach the wonderful understanding of what it takes to be human.

Wherever this holiday finds you, allow for joy, sadness, and allow for thoughtfulness towards fellow humans. It is what matters in the end. No story is written by each of us alone, but by all of us stepping into each other tracks, swapping stories, sharing laughs, offering hugs, meals and wiping tears when needed. Another kind of magic…

Reminders To Be Grateful

20151004_173835There is nothing like a visit to the Emergency Room to remind one of the things to be grateful for. More so when the issue turns out to be rather minor compared to what could’ve been.

There is also the hidden message in the very happening that one should heed. Yes, I am ‘the one’ in this case. While arranging little boy’s room last night and multitasking as I do at times, I wrongly assessed the height of a staggered piece of furniture. The knee that took the brunt of it made a sound that told of my mistake. A crunch of sorts that didn’t bide well. Yes, it hurt.

The next logical step was the ER. It is never a jolly scene there. You wait, you see a lot of suffering, rushed and exhausted medical staff, and people from all walks of life humbled by various health issues. Sobering indeed. We were third in line.

My husband and I were planning on a date for last night. It became one, but we wrote none of the terms other than those pertaining to togetherness. In sickness and in health, for better or worse. Grateful? Of course. Our date came with neon lights, waiting rooms, more waiting rooms and some unsmiling faces. On the plus side, we got some good reading time. A mom’s life allows for little leisure time so if I have to break a bone or stretch a ligament for it, so be it, the wisdom from above concluded.

As I sunk into my book beautifully titled ‘The gardener and the carpenter’ by Alison Gopnik, I came across soulful bits that soothed both heart and knee: ‘Loving children doesn’t give them a destination; it gives them sustenance for the journey.’ yes, it is a book about children, parents, and the bond between them, the mysterious, larger than life self-sacrificial love that takes the latter to the ends of the earth and back. Sustenance for the journey… The very words bumped into the worry ripples that mothering and homeschooling create occasionally and peace settled. It will all work out somehow in the end.

The wait in the ER allowed for slowness, the kind I rarely get. I suddenly had time. Granted, it was spent in life’s monetarily tight pocket, along with other humans whose faces betrayed pain and worry. You’re alone when you hurt and then you’re not.

In the ER under those neon lights, the hurt ones share the small space where gratefulness gets a renewed license and a sudden return to the importance of basic needs is guaranteed. Pain takes you to a place where few things matter. You’re present but somehow you appear in a smaller size, as if shrunken by forces you will never understand fully but are willing to learn about, especially during the shrinking. Then you get better and you forget all about the crisis that made you feel small and vulnerable. Or perhaps you don’t.

20161107_120750The X-ray room is intimidatingly minimalistic. Everything glides. Bed, big X-ray machine, the technician’s shoes, reminders of the barely moving patients that pass through. So many broken parts… you slide the people ever so gently into the room and get the machines to hover over them so they can be put back together. Fragility redefined.

I tell myself I will not be slowed down for long. My mind allies with me to get the body to believe it can move fast soon enough. There’s boys and pup and so much life bubbling. Gratefulness abounds. Counting my blessings while the big X-ray machine whirs. Get back, get the better than expected news, hobble out the door not before pushing the big green button. Leaving a world of pain behind. Gratefulness and sadness for what lies behind. For what lies ahead. Life is to be grateful for. Every day, every bit of every day and every instant that renders us alive after churning our souls through the pain and fear machine.

20161107_120416I remember reading this a while ago… ‘Some people grumble that roses have thorns; I am grateful that thorns have roses…’ (Alphonse Karr). It is true. Life is not about being happy regardless. It is about finding bits of happiness among the potholes in the road that may or may not have you break your leg as you fall into them. Because you were too busy counting the birds in the sky, or the stars, or you were watching for the approaching storm. Either way. Life happens.

Rethinking Our Eating Habits Can’t Happen Soon Enough

Originally published as a column in the Armchair Mayor News. 

20150913_103721Whenever we happen to have a meal out, we opt for water instead of any sweetened beverages. Often enough we get an extra question regarding the boys. ‘Them too, water?’ Yes, them too. Water does it. I saw a cartoon today depicting a potted plant with a jug of water next to it, and for comparison, a child with a can of pop. The message was something along the lines: you give water to your plants, why give pop to your children?

It is often assumed that children’s well-being is closely linked to them sugary drinks and treats. I include fruit juices in that category too, since the content of sugar is high enough to make them a treat rather than a healthy option. And no, the vitamin C content does not matter when there is so much sugar hitchhiking a ride through the body too.

On October 11 on World Obesity Day (sad that we have something like that nowadays), the World Health Organization proposed a 20 percent tax increase on sugary drinks. That’d be a good start. The same should apply to fast food though, and soon. Perhaps followed by an objective-thinking fellow or group of (meaning someone with people’s well-being in mind) who would put the brakes on the increasing amounts of sugar and high-fructose corn syrup finding their way into foods that are not even considered sweet to begin with. Sounds crazy and backwards simply because it is.

That does not affect children and teenagers only, but all the age groups. If you think the WHO proposal is a tad exaggerated, take a look at the obesity stats: worldwide 600 million people are obese. For comparison, approximately 795 million people do not have enough food to eat on a regular basis.

Almost 100 million children in developing countries are underweight due to continuous hunger (I find it very cynical that we call these countries ‘developing’ given the raw situation people face there) and 3.1 million children die of starvation yearly. The number of obese children worldwide reached 233 million this year. Numbers are truly stunning.

As for Canada, we have nothing to brag about. One in four adult Canadians and one in 10 children are clinically obese. That means an increased risk of type 2 diabetes, stroke, heart disease and cancer, to name but a few. Not to mention a decreased self-confidence and even more serious psychological issues in case the of teenagers and children. Yep, it’s a mean world out there and the flow of perfect bodies, many advertised by the very companies that make us fat, is a never ending one too. Which is why rethinking the way we eat and feed our children has to happen, and soon.

In that context, the news that we are about to see yet another fast food place getting built right by a school (McGill and Columbia, right next to the new Stuart Wood Elementary) sounds like a bad joke. If anything, school curriculum should be focusing quite a bit on what healthy food is and why it is important that we eat that instead of junk food.

That should work hand in hand with government subsidies to the small farms, with education sessions on healthy eating which can include cooking classes too (imagine your doctor writing a prescription for that!), and with city halls being adamant about not allowing fast food places to pop up near schools.

It may seem otherwise, but we are in the driver’s seat. We can make choices and with our choices we can influence the way businesses come and go in our city. As long as we keep in mind the big picture and the reason for giving up on sugary, rich-in-everything-but-nutritionally-poor foods, there is hope yet that obesity and the health-related issues threatening children and adults alike will slowly disappear.

An argument I hear often from people who hold onto their bag of candy or cookie box is that you only live once so might as well live it up. Yet the thing is, when we choose nutritionally poor foods we live it down and our quality of life and overall health levels are decreasing, despite the momentarily immersion in gustatory bliss.

That bliss can also be achieved from a different direction and with much better outcomes by reminding our taste buds of the foods intended to keep up both happy and healthy. As for side effects, I foresee only good ones: eating less (nutritionally adequate foods are satisfying in smaller amounts) while appreciating food more. That will also take care of the indecent issue of today’s western society, which is food waste.

Worth a try, don’t you think?

Why Do Pitt Bulls Get More Public Attention Than Abused Children

Initially published as a column in the Armchair Mayor News on Friday, October 7, 2016. 

ProtectSince 2011, at least 233 children between the ages of three and 18 have been subjected to sexual abuse while in foster care. That is in British Columbia alone. The majority of them were girls and more than 60 percent Indigenous. To put it in perspective, approximately 25 percent of the children in foster care in our province are aboriginal.

The report created some ripples on the day it hit the press, but definitely not enough and the ripples also did not carry through the next few days. In other words, it’s not something we talk about and become rightfully shocked by.

In contrast, the Montreal pit bull ban got so much publicity and word of mouth that it reached many corners of this province and the country too. While I will not go into that debate, my contention revolves around what makes us tick as a society. That over two hundred children (many more go unreported) were subjected to sexual violence in Canada in this day and age should make us all stop and question our priorities as a society.

Love or hate pit bulls, the thing is, we talk about it, we have it in the news, petitions are flying (one had approximately 191,000 signatures a week or so ago) and we collectively argue about the ban. There are some pretty strong opinions flying out there if you care to check the news.

For the record, I love dogs. I have one I dearly love, and I do think that dogs deserve to be cared for the right way. But, I am of the belief that every dog owner should be charged or drastically fined should their dog attack anyone and harm them. The money should go straight to shelters to help other animals.

On the other hand, are we being just as vocal about those abused children? A year ago or so I wrote a column about a little girl (age 2) who died while in foster care, bearing many signs of physical abuse. It saddened me then and it still saddens me now. There was a lot of muddling in the case as the foster parents denied being physically abusive and the natural mother who fought hard to get her baby back had a history of mental disease.

B.C. Minister of Children and Family Development Stephanie Cadieux still maintains that the ministry has rigorous standards when choosing foster parents. Outrage? Nah. New measures will be implemented, possibly after paper-pushing, stamping, approving of this and that, and then some more paper-pushing. Meanwhile, children suffer.

It’s hard to believe our most beautiful province has a shameful reputation when it comes to how we take care of children. Not mine or yours most likely, but of those who were born under less lucky stars. The most vulnerable of them all. They drop even lower and the sky above them darkens even more with every day of abuse and mistreatment.

It’s high time we put a stop to that. That in every society throughout time people found themselves at the opposite poles of status, financially or otherwise, is true. But nowadays we are privy to enough information to be able to step up and stop any kind of abuse, to shorten decision-making time when a child’s life depends on it and to make it big news and a subject of conversation until the issue does not longer exist. To paraphrase our PM who is still dragging his feet in the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women Inquiry, this is 2016. Almost 2017 in fact.

I believe in compassion and second chances, yet there is a fine line we ought not to cross when dealing with children who are subjected to sexual violence of any kind. The problem is, many of these children are scarred for life. Second chances are, in these cases and sadly so, more often for the perpetrators than for the young victims.

When we think of the future we think of children. They are the ones carrying the legacy into tomorrow. The more we allow as a society for a partially rotten legacy to exist, the more troublesome the future we hope for becomes.

A quote I often think of belongs to Nelson Mandela: ‘There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treats its children.’ Am I right to assume that our society’s soul is not doing too well at the moment? We can each do something to make it heal by fighting to treat our collective children better and let no harm of the above sort come to them.

Could Corporations Sponsor Free Thinking?

Originally published as a column in the ArmchairNews on Friday September 30th, 2016. 

So much has happened in the last week it’s hard to know where to start in choosing a topic for this piece. The crushing news, in my opinion, was the approval of the Pacific Northwest LNG export terminal by the federal government. Communicated by no other than the Environment Minister Catherine McKenna (oh, and climate change too), the news hit many like a stack of bricks.

Of course, the project might not go ahead after all if the LNG prices are too low, so there’s the saving grace. Unlike our federal government it’d be nice if Canada could actually keep a promise. Yes, I am thinking of the one made in Paris last year regarding the greenhouse gases. We ought to.

The next big thing that crowds made bigger was the visit of Prince William and Princess Kate; still unfolding, still leaving a trail of stardust behind, Facebook photo albums are already flooded with glimpses of the two and their children. It’s nice to have nice people visit our province (they really seem so) but I sure hope that in the whirlwind of criss-crossing this beautiful land they got wind of the most pressing issues.

Not that they would be able to do much to pressure either our premier or Prime Minister to change their ways and opt for keeping promises to First Nations, Canadians in general, and leading our economy towards greener pastures and helping Canadians reap the benefits rather than allow foreign corporations trot in.

Not to be raining on anyone’s parade with the royal visit and all, but there is a big need for money in various sectors in British Columbia – education and health to name but two. Hospitable as we are as a people, there is little if any money to spare for visits when so much is needed and many are told there is no money to help them. Children are always among the needy. Let’s also not forget the black eye of British Columbia: there are still a lot of hungry children among us. That is not acceptable.

Speaking of children and food, there is a new development that seems to create some discord. Senator Nancy Greene Raine brought forth a bill which might become law, proposing that children under 13 be spared the branding by fast-food companies when it comes to the sports they play. It’s complicated, you’re right to think that.

Many teams of young players rely on sponsorships such as the ones bestowed by fast-food companies to make their magic happen. Kind of counterintuitive though. After all, playing sports is a great healthy endeavour. Eating fast-food is not. The two combined? Little more than an early exposure to double standards and principle bending if you will.

Nowadays more than ever children need to learn about real food, the price of growing it right, the need to grow it ethically; they need to understand that eating is not an isolated act but one of the many that keeps humans in a circle where they can influence their own well-being and that of the world they live in. It’s a tall order, it’s true.

Yet when we teach them that and encourage them to ditch the fast-food in favour of some nutritious, clean and local yummy grub, they learn more than the taste of food. They learn about their own community and how sticking together does wonders for everyone.

Sponsorship that keeps kids playing is not easy to find, many said. That may be true yet I do believe that there could be local businesses that are willing to help.

We have way too many overweight children, and way too many overweight people in general. We have become quite comfortable with letting it be and telling children they should be confident and happy no matter what the scale says. Yet it’s not the scale that counts really but their health. And good health is most important. It’s a shame to teach our children anything else and not allow them the space to think freely of their food choices.

There was a time when kids and everyone else for that matter played for the love of it, no corporate involvement whatsoever. If one is to help, perhaps local businesses can step up and help in a most good old way that sees that kids in the community have their chance to play free of corporate marketing that could care less who is who and which team plays what.

With learning to eat healthy and understand community involvement comes the drive to stand up for the very land the said community lives on, for the water they drink and the air they breathe. By equipping our children with the courage to think independently and make their own educated choices we can at least say we did everything we could for them to learn to stand up for what’s worth saving: life in all shapes and sizes. We are truly giving them the world.

Page 18 of 29

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén