Feeling Compelled; Wanting to Recover the Feminine from the Bonds of a Patriarchal Society

I’ve been feeling with intensity the rising global energy of women who are tired of being subjugated, belittled, or treated as ‘less than’ in any way. It resonates deep inside me, within the legacy of my own inheritance of the cycle of abuse, as well as in the experiences of women from other cultures, with other experiences, all over the world.

The bondage is pervasive and complex. It is woven into the fabric of women’s stories about our bodies, our minds, our emotions and our souls.

Women are dictated to by men on how to treat their bodies. In some cultures, women are viewed as prizes or trophies, to be displayed or hidden. In others, we are viewed as objects to be used as seen fit by the men who desire us. And often it begins when we are girls.

Waking Times featured an article, What Rampant Cyber Pornography is Doing to Adolescents by Christina Sarich. She talks about the dangers of “wacked social norms about sex” that are prevalent on the internet. Sarich claims there are “pedophilia dark-net websites … child trafficking… (and) extreme sexual behavior.” Boys view these pornographic images and build unhealthy ideas and expectations about what women want.

It is a socially accepted myth that when a woman says no, she means yes, or at least maybe. According to Sarich, “Doctors are now reporting … girls as young as eleven to thirteen years old showing up with incontinence and ripped up anal and vaginal tissue due to being forcibly entered.”

http://www.wakingtimes.com/2017/07/18/rampant-cyber-pornography-adolescents/

 

Research found one fifth of girls to have suffered violence or intimidation and that one in five boys demonstrates extremely negative attitudes towards women. I believe the numbers are much higher, that the tools of blame and guilt and persecution keep many girls from reporting.

Margaret Atwood, known for her futuristic writing, including the bestselling novel The Handmaid’s Tale, speaks out about a woman’s right to control her own body on the issue of abortion. She talks about how, when governments, like those in Texas, adopt anti-abortion legislation, they force women into a lifetime of servitude and debt. She talks about the real expenses of prenatal care, health insurance and in-hospital delivery, not to mention the costs of caring for and providing for a baby into adulthood. Atwood goes so far as to suggest that governments that enforce such legislation should foot the bill.

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While the argument of the financial burden of forced parenthood is a viable concern, there are also emotional and mental ramifications that anti-abortionists fail to consider. There are women who get pregnant who are unable to provide loving, stable homes to their children. Women who are suffering from mental illnesses, addiction, and poor self-esteem. Women whose role models were parents who abused them. Forcing these women to have their babies perpetuates cycles of dysfunction. A baby born into a home where they are not wanted is likely going to experience attachment disorders, making them at risk to develop serious psychological and social challenges as adults.

Let me be clear; I’m not pro-abortion. I’m pro-choice. We cannot, as a society, determine what is the right decision for everyone. Every woman who becomes impregnated has a different story; a different set of values, different supports, education, income, and health.

When a woman is raped, her choice is taken from her. To take away her choice on how to deal with a resulting pregnancy further traumatizes and punishes her. Some women are raped within the supposed sacrament of marriage. There is no singular solution, but forcing women to have babies that are the result of rape is, in my opinion, barbaric and cruel.

For women who do choose motherhood, it is increasingly challenging to feel positive about the necessary changes that occur to our bodies. Our society’s view of sexy is limited to the physical attributes of young, slim-as-models, pre-motherhood women. All outcomes of motherhood are deemed unattractive, needing to be fixed, eliminated and annihilated.

In an emotionally impacting video featured on Allure, titled Dispelling Beauty Myths, Alexa Wilding shares her personal story. She talks about the wad of flesh she was left with after post-pregnancy muscle diastasis. The obstetrician recommended that she undergo a Mummy Makeover, which is essentially a process involving a tummy tuck, boob lift, and liposuction to erase all physical evidence of her transformation from maidenhood to motherhood.

Cultural messages of guilt, blame, and shame are all emotions inflicted upon women. They are held responsible for the abuses inflicted upon them, for being too pretty, too bubbly, too naïve, too weak, too sensitive. The list goes on.

We read in the news about women in India who have acid poured on their faces for the shame they place on their families by being raped. We read about women in Africa who are genitally mutilated in a custom that is upheld as cultural, but is really a sadistic form of control and manipulation. Women in Afghanistan are oppressed by being denied the right to education. Women in North America and Europe are objectified as sex objects, their exposed cleavage and ass used to sell everything from beer to cars.

I spoke personally to an Imam in Bahrain who stated that women need to cover themselves with abayas and burkas because they are too sexually arousing for men. I spoke to a taxi driver in Toronto who self-righteously claimed to cherish his wife as his most precious belonging, justifying the limits on her social behaviour and restrictions of her dress because of her value as his possession.

I challenge these beliefs. I suggest that all people, men or women, are responsible for their own behaviours and cannot blame anyone but themselves for what they do. I know men who have greater expectations for themselves, who have control over their sexual and physical desires. It can be done. Blaming a woman for being raped, ever, is ludicrous and unacceptable. Placing restrictions on women because of a perceived inability of men to control themselves is demeaning to both sexes.

So, how do we move forward? My daughter, Scarlet, is wondering the same thing. Like me, she doesn’t have all the answers. But she knows, “it’s going to take a transformation… that she needs to participate in the conversation … (and) be a part of the movement.”

Holly Truhlar, in her post The Environmental Movement Has Failed, believes that as a society we have a problem with long-term engagement. She posits that we are not emotionally resourced to deal with experiences “that will break our hearts and bring us to our knees if we feel them.” She goes on to say that we are living in a traumatized society suffering from intergenerational wounding in a system set up to divide and exploit, oppress and abuse. She, like Scarlet, believes we need to have the conversation. We need to engage in “an emotional and spiritual revolution requiring us to expand into the largest sense of Self that we can.”

http://www.hollytruhlar.com/environmental-movement-failed/

I believe that the heart and power of a transformational movement begins with girls; the women of the future. And I’m not the only one. G-Day Fundraising is a growing celebration of the spirit of girls. Its aim is to support and guide girls in as many communities as possible to discover their power and become champions of the future.

Humankind would evolve towards reaching its highest expression if all abusive behaviour could be stopped. Right now. It is a worthwhile goal, but the reality is that we live in a society where many people don’t get the help and support they need, and so these cycles continue. What we can do, right now, is empower children to speak up. We can teach them appropriate boundaries. We can tell them to honour their bodies and that they can say no. We can trust them. We can give them back their voices, helping them to find the language they need to express their feelings. There is a global rising. We won’t keep quiet.

So yeah, I’m feeling compelled; wanting to recover the feminine from the bonds of a patriarchal society.

Feeling Abundance, Appreciating Travel Experiences in Art, History, Food & Wine

In my first two blogs relating to me and Mister’s Grand Ramadan Adventure of 2017 I wrote about my experiences feeling love and connection with family and friends. I’m switching gears now, to share the explorations of our senses as we viewed, listened, felt, smelled and tasted our way from Winnipeg to Rome and along the Western Mediterranean.

529 Wellington, a posh and trendy restaurant in an up-scale water-front neighborhood of Winnipeg, Canada, was our first indulgence in fine cuisine, a belated birthday gift from Greg and Julie. I was impressed as soon as we drove up, the restaurant housed in a renovated turn-of-the-century mansion. From the luxurious draperies to the ornate chandeliers to the dark wood paneling throughout, the ambience was rich and inviting. Even on a Tuesday night it was packed and the noise was a bit jarring at first, but soon we settled into our cozy corner.

We ordered a bottle of bold, peppery shiraz from the Barossa Valley in Australia that paired smashingly with my prosciutto wrapped scallops, not to mention the melt-in-your-mouth beef tenderloin rated Canadian Prime distinction shipped in all the way from High River, Alberta. The four of us shared side dishes of asparagus and mushrooms and ate, sipped and talked our way to dessert. Mister and I shared the chocolate cheesecake which was divinely decadent; rich, creamy and dense. It was over-the-top and Mister and I felt grateful for his parent’s generosity.

 

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529 Wellington

 

We celebrated our dear friend Anne Marie’s birthday two-fold, beginning with a musical production, Strictly Ballroom, in the Princess of Wales Theatre located on King Street in the heart of Toronto’s entertainment district. Incorporating traditional and contemporary design, the theatre can seat 2000 guests and after collecting our tickets from the box office we took our seats in the centre orchestra section.

Strictly Ballroom originally opened in Australia and featured a cast that mostly hailed from London. It began with a rather cliché opening of ballroom dancers engaged in petty competitiveness. As the story progressed and featured elements of modern choreography I appreciated the talent even if the plot and characters felt flat and predictable. Only after the play, in conversation with Anne Marie, did I discover the subtle nuances that had originally eluded me. It was no Kinky Boots or Les Miserables, but a worthwhile performance nonetheless.

We took a cab back to Anne Marie’s and drank champagne and told stories and shared photos from her Breakfast at Tiffany’s themed birthday bash in February. We caught another cab to take us to George, located in an old red brick building on the corner of Queen and Church. We chose to be seated in the courtyard patio, nestled in a corner partitioned for privacy with green bushes twinkling with lights and a tranquil fountain.

Our sommelier arrived to inquire about our drink preferences and we ordered a bottle of sparkling prosecco from Nova Scotia that Anne Marie was familiar with. It was dry, crisp, light and refreshing, a perfect way to toast and begin the evenings festivities. We all decided to indulge in the five course wine pairings and over several hours we were served spectacular food and wine with impeccable timing and service.

Chef Lorenzo Loseto created a bold epicurean adventure for us featuring local food artisans and global wine producers. After an amuse bouche of crisp, bright pea shoots with citrus we were brought a selection of first course cold appetizers paired with barely pink rose. The second course featured a warm appetizer of sweetbreads with rich Foie Gras and a complex red pinot noir. Third course was lamb rib chop served with scalloped potato and asparagus and yet another smooth, bold red. A supreme selection of Quebec cheeses was served next with a dry ice wine. Last, but never least, was dessert, a gluten free chocolate torte with a layer of cheesecake and a smattering of raspberries paired with an outrageously thick and decadent port.

Throughout the meal the conversation was lively, with Anne Marie entertaining us with a multitude of stories about her adventures at home and abroad. It was an amazing experience and by the end we all agreed, we were stuffed, literally and metaphorically, with food, wine and connection.

 

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George

 

Rome was an explosion of art, history, architecture and ruins. As we drove along the freeway from the airport to the centre of town where we were renting a condo we noticed the shift. The streets turned to narrow and cobbled, lined with old brick and stone buildings and peppered with tall umbrella and thin cedar trees. The Italian flavour for romance and passion was palpable and my spirit was soaring as I took it all in.

The food and wine in Rome were an experience all on their own. From cheap wine and cheese selected at our local Coop market to upscale restaurants, we feasted on Caprese salads featuring creamy buffalo mozzarellas, sharp pecorinos, fresh pastas, and I even discovered an amazing gluten free pizza.

An unexpected delight was when we stumbled upon an elegant restaurant just a short three-minute walk from our apartment, adjacent to the French Embassy, called Camponeschi. The well-dressed waiter, a man of senior years and expertise, treated us to exceptional service, proclaiming as he pointed to include all of us, “Mama, Papa and the kids!” A talented guitarist strummed and sang soulfully in English, Italian and Portuguese. We drank luscious bold and smooth Italian red wine and ate delicate grilled seabass and robust cheese and a decadent soufflé smothered in dark chocolate sauce.

Our final night in Rome had us walking to the trendy Eitch Hotel on recommendation and it did not disappoint. A museum hotel, the rooftop patio where we enjoyed pre-dinner cocktails overlooked grand fountains in the square below and the sun dazzled in the early evening sky, lending a pristine quality to the white and glass elegance of the décor.

 

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Roof-top bar at Eitch Hotel

 

The restaurant featured private dining rooms with windows open to the beauty and bustle of the plaza below. We drank deep purple Amarone and toasted Susie’s graduation and dined on aromatic chef-inspired dishes.

 

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Kevin, me, Mister & Susie in the restaurant @ Eitch

 

The attractions in Rome were as plentiful and over-the-top as the food and wine. Our first day featured a whirl-wind tour of Vatican City, including the museum, the Sistine Chapel and St. Peter’s  Square. The hall of maps was an eye-dropper for all four of us, dazzling in its contrasts of simplicity and complexity. Floor to ceiling paintings and tapestries were featured throughout the museum. It would be impossible to choose a favourite, although the deep colour and demonic expressions in the paintings by Botticelli captured my imagination. The Sistine Chapel was magnificent in all its glory and St. Peter’s was surely the most magnificent chapel I’ve ever seen.

 

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me & Mister outside Vatican City

 

Day two had the four of us venturing out for a walking tour of Rome that included the Pantheon, the Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps and the Villa Borghese Gardens. Designed by Italian architect Nicola Salvi, the Trevi Fountain is considered the most beautiful in the world and Mister and I agreed it impacted us with its pristine ivory baroque sculptures surrounded by turquoise waters.

 

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Mister & Me, Trevi Fountain

 

The Colosseum, Forum, Circus Maximus and Palazzo di Venezia were the subjects of our third day’s outing. We walked the ancient steps in the 35 Celsius heat and humidity, taking photos, refilling our water bottles and seeking shade whenever possible. The Colosseum was truly remarkable in it’s size and preservation and we all felt like we could feel the energy where spectators viewed gladiatorial contests, executions, animal hunt re-enactments and Christians being devoured by lions.

 

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Mister & Me; Colosseum

 

All I’d known previously of the magnificence of Rome I’d read in books like Colleen McCollough’s Caesar or Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons. To experience in the flesh, with all my senses, was a gift I will treasure forever, and already my heart and spirit are calling me back.

Monday was check-out and after an hour-long transfer to the Port Terminal Mister and I boarded the Celebrity Reflection cruise ship destined for an eleven-day Western Mediterranean adventure. From the moment we were welcomed with a glass of sparkling prosecco, to the moment we left it was life-expanding and amazingly epic.

 

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Mister & Me on deck

 

When our ship docked in Ville Franche, the gateway to the French Riviera, we took a taxi to Monte Carlo, driving past medieval style villas, mansions and castles all nestled into the craggy rocks and rolling hillside that lined the road curving to follow the beautiful beaches along the coast. The infamous Grand Casino did not disappoint in its grandeur, the gold-gilded ceiling a spectacular architectural design. Intoxicatingly elegant, we were entranced as we entered the main gaming hall where no photos were allowed. There was only one black jack table, the minimum bet 25 EUR. We sat down to play, losing the small amount we’d allocated for entertainment quite quickly, but not before two high rollers joined us, cashing in a 10,000 EUR chip and proceeding to bet stacks of 600 a play without blinking an eye.

 

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Mister & Me in Monte Carlo

 

In Barcelona, we had booked a Wine and Tapas Tour, which was an interesting walk but short on the wine and tapas. We couldn’t complain, however, because the tour ended in an outstanding Flamenco Dance performance that blew both Mister and I away. The venue was an intimate theatre in the Gothic quarter, a work of art in its own right. We had front row seats and the performance featured an amazing spectacle of talent and passion. The singing, dancing and music had my soul ignited, tears on my face and goosebumps on my arms.

Gibraltar was an unexpected surprise. Valerie, a fantastic Brit from Manchester, was our tour guide for the Upper Rock Cable Car and Walking Tour. She had a fabulous sense of humour and was a natural story-teller. We rode up in the cable car, 412 metres in six minutes, to the top of the rock where we witnessed incredible views.

 

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Gibraltar

 

Macaque monkeys were in abundance, scrambling along the rocks, playfully engaging with one another, and I agreed with Valerie that you could fall in love with the adorable babies.

 

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Macaque baby monkey with her mother

 

We toured St. Michael’s Cave where ancient stalagmites and stalactites were wonders to behold. We walked through St. George’s tunnels, built during the Great Siege of the late 1700’s when France and Spain tried unsuccessfully to capture Gibraltar from the British.

 

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St. Michael’s Cave

 

Mister and I had a delightful time on-board as well. The food and wine were spectacular, especially at our favourite restaurant, Murano, which featured elegant French cuisine, including sharp and creamy cheeses and melt-in-your-mouth chateaubriand. We indulged in the delicious coffee and baked goods, including an impressive selection of gluten free offerings, at El Bacio. And we spent many hours in Cellar Masters tasting a variety of different wines, culminating in an Unforgettable Italian Reds tasting the last day when we were at sea.

 

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Mister in Cellar Masters

 

We worked out at the Fitness Centre, including a yoga studio, both with exceptional views from floor to ceiling windows. We spotted dolphins joyfully frolicking in the ships wake. We played our luck at the black jack tables in Fortunes Casino. We took in a theatre production called Broken Strings. Throughout it all, we were treated to exceptional service from everyone.

So yeah, I’m feeling abundance, appreciating travel experiences in art, history, food & wine.

 

Feeling Connected, Celebrating Life and Sharing Stories with Family and Friends

The Grand Ramadan Adventure Mister and I began on May 25 turned out to be such an incredibly epic experience, I’ve decided I need to continue the saga divided into two more blogs. As I sifted through the scrawling notes of my journal and realized I had written 55 pages about our cruise alone, I knew I had some serious paring down to do.

 

In part one I wrote about feeling certain of the depth, breadth and intensity of my love for my family, and that theme continued to the very end of our five- week journey from Vancouver Island back to Riyadh in steps across Canada and including a stop-over in Rome.

 

We flew out of Victoria airport on May 31, our destination Calgary. We were staying at my brother and sister-in-law’s home and I was looking forward to catching up. Doug and Laura had to work and Matthew had school but we still managed to make time in the evenings for deep discussions as well as some family fun, playing games and watching one of the Pirate movies. We had planned a dinner party that included my sister but her boyfriend gifted her with surprise tickets to the Faith Hill concert. We met up with a dear friend of mine from the days when I lived in Calgary and it was wonderful to hear her sounding full of positivity. Then on Saturday morning it was time to go with big bear hugs and traditional nose kisses goodbye.

 

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Calgary Peeps

 

Winnipeg was our next stop, home to Mister’s Mom and Dad. One of Mister’s brother’s lives just outside the city and another brother in Brandon made the drive with his large family to join in the fun. The highlight of our trip was a family backyard barbeque and pool party. It was a treat to witness how much the kids had grown and changed since our last visit and to catch up. My Aunt Linda and Uncle Ned hosted a family dinner too, and it was a wonderful opportunity to connect with my dad’s side of the family. We engaged in a variety of activities with Mom and Dad: pickle ball, lawn bowling, cribbage, and a scenic city walk. We exchanged stories of our lives in Saudi Arabia and our families lives in Winnipeg and of the good ole days as the long Canadian prairie summer days stretched into the night.

 

 

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Pool fun at the Family Party

 

 

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Connection with Ned, Linda & Ryan

 

 

While in Winnipeg a powerful opportunity for appreciation was gifted to me in the unlikeliest of situations. I had booked an appointment with an Aesthetician who turned out to be a native of Brazil. I couldn’t help but wonder how someone from Rio de Janeiro ended up Winnipeg. She shared with me that there is a high level of corruption, crime, materialism and pollution in her country so she and her husband researched for a safe place to live and determined that Canada was the place to go. They chose Winnipeg because they didn’t want to live in a big city, as well as for the affordable standard of living. When I asked her how she managed the cold winters, she replied it was only weather, you just had to dress for it and get involved in winter activities. It was a gratifying experience to hear such a positive perspective on my home and native land.

Our next, and final destination in Canada, was Toronto, where our youngest daughter lives, as well as our very close friend, Anne Marie. Kara greeted us with a huge welcome at the airport and after big hugs hello we climbed into a taxi and talked all the way to our Airbnb rental in the heart of the city. Over the next five days we got into deep philosophical discussions on the nature of being human and shared stories of our challenges and successes. We celebrated her 22nd birthday with her boyfriend Stu, a quiet affair of home-cooked Thai red curry followed by a spirited game of Catan.

For Anne Marie’s birthday celebration, we did it up in style, taking in a musical production and indulging in a five-course meal including wine pairing. I’ll write more about our culinary and cultural adventures in my next blog. We were fortunate to squeeze in a very brief catch-up with our good friends Lyne and Eric over lunch, feeling grateful for the effort they put forth into creating and keeping up connections.

We managed to balance out the excessive eating and drinking with a couple of work-outs at the condo’s gym, as well as a breath-taking 2- hour city walk that challenged our bodies and cleared our minds. It was beyond rewarding to bask in the positive energy of our peeps. I took pride in my daughter, who is rocking it, using a variety of skills and techniques she has learned, creating a life that makes her feel happier and taking steps toward discovering her purpose.

 

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In Toronto with Kara and Anne Marie

 

Mid-June we flew from Toronto to Rome where we were meeting up with my son, Kevin, and his girlfriend Susie. It was a spectacular setting for the four of us to get to know one another more intimately and there was a peaceful flow to our interactions. We found ourselves delving into deep discussions on many an occasion, sharing our views on topics like Brexit, Global communication, environmentalism, equality, and education, to name a few. After a day of touring around Rome we would settle into what we affectionately called the opium bed in our cozy apartment, pouring glasses of red wine and sharing our thoughts and feelings about what we had experienced. Evenings found us situated in one of the plethora of restaurants nestled in our little neighborhood, eating amazing Italian food, drinking gorgeous Italian wine, and telling more stories. We celebrated Susie’s graduation from Cambridge with toasts and sentimental expressions of gratitude. I noticed the many ways my son and I are the same, how we share common values, passions, and ideas and I felt full of bliss for the gift our deep communion over the four days of our Roman exploration.

 

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Me & Mister with Kevin and Susie at Eitch Hotel, Rome

 

Our Ramadan adventure concluded with grandeur as we boarded the Celebrity Reflection Cruise ship destined for an eleven day tour of the Western Mediterranean. After the abundant connection we shared with family and friends we were ready to immerse ourselves in reconnecting with one another. But before I share the magic of that experience, I want to share another unexpected opportunity that manifested.

I never imagined that I would be so impacted by one of the service providers on our cruise, but I was. Paulino, our stateroom attendant, was a constant beam of light and positivity every single day aboard the ship. He was always smiling, and his smile was huge, genuine, and contagious. The first day Paulino welcomed us, shaking our hands enthusiastically in greeting. He went above and beyond his duties, even attempting to repair Mister’s broken-down shaver. He spotted a butterfly on our balcony and informed us with delight that it was a sign of good luck. Paulino took attention to every detail for our comfort and kept our room meticulously clean. The day I dressed up in my red ball gown he saw us as we left our cabin and broke out in singing Lady in Red. He shared lovingly about his family back home without complaint of the hardship of being away, only gratitude for his opportunity to provide for them. On our last night we saw him and bid him farewell and told him how amazing our cruise experience had been and he said thank you but he was merely a cleaner. I assured him with frank honesty that he was so much more than that. I told him how much we appreciated his infectious, positive energy and the outstanding job he did of taking care of us. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes as he took both of our hands in his and thanked us.

 

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Elegant Chic @ Murano Restaurant on Celebrity Reflection

 

I said that my experience of the cruise ship with Mister was magical, and that was no exaggeration. I found myself time and time again feeling like Cinderella, over-joyed, over-the-top and over-the-moon. Every day we took time to express our thanks for the experience and our appreciation of one another. We fell into flow right away, engaging in deep, meaningful conversations, dreaming and imagining our lives together. We had the ability to share openly when we experienced sticky feelings and not take it personally or with judgment. We shifted gears calmly when things didn’t go according to plan. From holding hands as we walked along the decks to kissing as the sun set, we engaged in the art of intimacy, loving and accepting one another for who we are. One day as we sat contently on our balcony over-looking the beautiful blue sea Mister looked over at me and said, “Whether we are here on this ship, in Canada with family, in Rome or in Riyadh, it’s all beautiful because we are together.” I guess that pretty much sums it all up.

 

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Me & Mister in Monte Carlo

 

So yeah, I’m feeling connected, celebrating life and sharing stories with family and friends.

 

Feeling Certain of the Depth, Breadth and Intensity of my Love for my Family

Ramadan began on May 25, marking the beginning of a whirlwind five week adventure for me and Mister. We caught the red eye out of Riyadh to our connecting flight at London Heathrow, then on to Victoria via Vancouver. It took over thirty hours, crossing ten time zones. Despite exhaustion, the pristine beauty of Vancouver Island invigorated my soul and the lure of connecting and sharing stories with family had me tapping into a third or fourth wind.

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My mother, two daughters, son-in-law and grandson all live on Vancouver Island. I knew it was going to be a challenge to be with each of them in authentic communication within four and a half days, but I was committed. Inspired by Elizabeth Lesser’s Ted Talk, Say Your Truths, which I referenced in a previous blog, I vowed to create space for deep time or sacred awe to manifest. And it did.

We engaged in the usual traditions of preparing and sharing food together while engaging in deep discussions.

Re-connecting with my grandson was a gift to be cherished, from that first moment I peeked into his room and he shyly regarded me for all of a minute before crying out in delight, “Grandma!” and that final heart-wrenching kiss goodbye.

We established our motto, “party every day,” belting it out in an off-key version of The Black Eyed Peas, repeating the chorus frequently throughout our visit.

Our first day Mister and I took Em with us into Victoria where we picked up my mom (nana) and drove to Willows Beach. All the adults were enamoured with Em and we traipsed after him as he navigated the playground equipment with confidence. We ate ice cream and drew pictures in the sand with old driftwood sticks. We ate crispy-gooey-greasy pizza and engaged our imaginations in play. Mister pushed my Mom on the swing and me and Em on the merry-go-round. We dizzy-walked and fake crashed into the soft green grass. I felt present to expansive possibilities and the innocence of his loving young heart.

Driving back home we sang songs and told stories, Mister sharing a smash-up impersonation of Foghorn Leghorn, a character from the Looney Tunes of our youth and me giving my Southern accent version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Em revealed with the frank honesty of young children that my story was horrible because it was too scary. He loved Mister’s Foghorn vignette and kept asking him to tell it again.

The next day Mister and I took Em on a walk down by Fisherman’s Wharf in scenic Cowichan Bay. We spotted fish and looked for sea lions, holding hands and seeing the beauty and wonder of the world through Em’s eyes. We had a pirate pool party in their backyard and I relished the freedom to be childish.

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Whether he was busy being a boy, playing and chattering non-stop or snuggled up to me while I read him his bedtime stories, Em’s soft spirit spoke to me. My time with Em brought me back to my purpose, which as Mister identified, is simply to love.

I didn’t create as many opportunities to connect deeply with my Mom as I would have liked. However, it was a gift to witness her youthful, spirited energy as she interacted with Em. During one of our family dinners Mom shared a little of her Ancestry Circle. I felt honoured that she expressed her vulnerability. The day before we left she invited us to lunch at her place and while  I was in a bit of a muddle that day I gave her a big hug goodbye, managing to stay fully present, if only for a few moments.

Scarlet was at a workshop when I first arrived. When she got back early Sunday afternoon I was thrilled and ran to the door to wrap my arms around her. Tamara supported us in our desire to create one-on-one connection, looking after Em. Scarlet drove us to Mill Bay, to a part of the ocean we used to walk together when I lived nearby. We walked along the waters edge sipping our coffees and releasing all of our heaviness, baggage and updates.

When we reached a craggy boulder overlooking the ocean we spread out her yoga mat and settled into the space, holding hands and sitting in spiritual silence. Scarlet led us into deep and sacred communion. We were in deep time and the hours melted into moments where watches don’t exist and our heartbeats marked the passage of time. I felt like I was glowing, acknowledging the grace and gift from God that is my angel daughter.

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My time with Tamara was not as plentiful as I would have liked. I felt grateful for the time we shared together in Goa. We did manage to engage in a few open and honest conversations. I was able to hold and behold her.

On our last evening, after Em was all tucked into bed and the dinner dishes were tidied away, me, Scarlet and Tamara participated in a spiritual bonding ceremony, sharing our vulnerable hearts in deep connection with one another. I experienced some stickiness, but both my girls responded in their own individual ways to support me. My heart was filled with fiery hot pride of the strong women that my girls have become. At the same time, I was present to the approaching end of my visit and my heart was drenched in the tears of goodbyes.

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So yeah, I left Vancouver Island feeling a lot of things, but certain of the depth, breadth and intensity of my love for my family.

Feeling Inspired to Follow My Dreams

I admit that I enjoy scrolling through posts on Facebook. It’s something I take a few minutes to engage in each day, mostly over morning coffee and before tucking into bed. I appreciate the opportunity to stay informed and connected, and for the most part I feel disciplined to keep my time spent on social media within reasonable limits.

I came upon a video featured on Goalcast last week. It was brief but impacting. Taraji P. Hanson, a successful actress most recently known for her performance in Hidden Figures, shared a little bit of her story.

When Taraji became pregnant in college, the naysayers said she would never finish. But she did. She walked across the stage and collected her diploma with her son on her hip. When she announced that the was moving to California at the age of 26 to pursue her dream of acting, the naysayers said she was crazy, that she was too old to start up in that business. But she went, and now she is an accomplished actress. In her own words, at age 46, she is “just getting started.”

 

Taraji’s message is that your happiness is up to you. She encouraged me on my own happiness journey to follow my dreams. And she reminded me of my own inner courage. I decided that perhaps sharing my story could inspire others too.

Like Taraji, I became pregnant when I was young. Only I wasn’t in college. I was in my final year of high school. The naysayers told me I would never succeed if I kept my baby, that I would become a welfare dropout. They were wrong. Birthing my angel inspired me even more to be my best and reach for my dreams. How she changed my life is its own story, but I will share here the poem I wrote during my pregnancy.

 

Teenage Pregnancy

The sadness is the hardest part to bear. It sucks to hear we don’t want her at our school and she is a bad example. As I ride the bus to my new school, the one for girls like me, the old ladies across the aisle offer up their condemning stares. I hide my naked fingers beneath me. I cast my gaze downward and dream.

No joyful announcements slipped ceremoniously into mailbox slots. I’m told to hush, when all I want to do is blast away on my golden trumpet. As a pregnant teenager I’m required to take apart my trumpet and tuck it away in its velvet-lined case. I am not supposed to be happy about this. My feelings are supposed to be about shame. My happiness is not allowed to have its name.

I ask myself “why?” I don’t understand why my age and marital status are the only defining labels of my worth. Is the miracle of this conception less than any other? Is it not possible for me to be an excellent mother?

Before (and my life will now and forever be defined by before and after) I was drifting aimlessly, like a leaf being blown about by a playful wind. Now I have this baby growing inside me and a destiny that seems to embody the meaning and purpose of my existence.

I save my joy for the quiet moments alone in my room. I whisper to my little one, you are so wanted and I can’t wait to meet you.” I close my eyes and dream of counting ten tiny toes. I accept the sadness, but I don’t let it define my experience. For now, I keep the secret of my boundless joy between me and my precious unborn baby girl or boy.

 

I finished high school, walking across the stage to collect my diploma six months pregnant. I birthed my daughter in October of that year and brought her home from the hospital to my parents home. When I turned eighteen the following spring we moved into our first apartment together. I completed a year of college, then went onto University. I applied for and received student loans and grants. With the support of many, especially my parents, I earned my Bachelor of Education degree while raising my little girl as a single mom.

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After graduating in 1988 I went on to enjoy a successful and varied career as a teacher. I taught in public and private sectors. I taught kindergarten through grade nine. I taught in typical and special needs settings. I worked full time and part time. I loved teaching and the opportunities it gave me to engage with my students as well as devote myself to my family, which always came first. I married and had two more beautiful children. I was, and am, blessed with so much.

Still, there have been hard times. It would be dishonest and a disservice to brush over those. I struggled when diagnosed with Type I Diabetes and Hypothyroidism. I had challenges in my first marriage. I battled with depression. In 2011 my marriage fell apart. My children were adults and I was ready for a new chapter. That is also its own story, currently in the process of being written, titled Darkness to Dawn.

Now, in 2017, I’m still feeling full of optimism. I’m 51 and no longer teaching. I’ve always loved writing and now I’m dreaming of becoming a published writer. I’ll never give up dreaming. I know that fulfilling dreams takes hard work. So, I write every day. I send out agent queries every week, prepared for rejection, hopeful for affirmation. I remind myself, without comparing my aptitude with hers, that J, K. Rowling received 100 rejections before Harry Potter became a reality.

So yeah, I’m feeling inspired to follow my dreams.

 

Feeling Expansive; Hoping to Bring Down the Walls of the Ghetto Mentality

I wasn’t feeling inspired to write a fresh blog this week, life being pretty much same old, same old of late. Then before one of my friend Carol’s yoga classes three of us got to talking about how sometimes in our small community, instead of coming together and supporting one another, people, especially women, will ridicule and condemn one another. We speculated as to the reasons why. We identified the common suspects of jealousy, spite and a negative outlook. Lynn described it as a ghetto mentality, and my muse was inspired.

Ghetto mentality is used here as a slang term associated with people who, unhappy with their own situation in life, blame others. It refers to the behaviour of people in a community who feel they are disadvantaged and the way to overcome their feelings of injustice is to bring down those they perceive as advantaged. They usually compare what they have to what their neighbours have.  It is related to a perceived scarcity of goods, money, attention, status or other measures of self-worth or success.

I’ve written in other contexts about this kind of mentality in broader settings; Brexit and Trump are examples. Trump campaigned to make America great again, blaming current problems in the USA on other countries, other races, other political ideologies and other religions. Deflecting onto “the other.” Brexit blamed the EU for their economic challenges and immigration issues. This lack of taking responsibility is not only unhealthy, it isn’t helpful. In my opinion, the only way to make change is by empowering yourself, whether as an individual or society.

I’ve made a commitment to focusing on positive emotions and energy in my blog posts so I will move on to tackling how to bring down the walls of this ghetto mentality.

One possibility is to foster cooperation and collaboration rather than competition and separation. Barbara Gray defines collaboration as “a process through which parties who see different aspects of a problem can constructively explore their differences and search for solutions that go beyond their own limited vision of what is possible.” Furthermore, Scott London attests that “collaborative efforts tend to be loosely structured, highly adaptive, and inherently creative.” Sounds like a positive framework.

His Holiness Pope Francis makes a compelling argument for collaboration in his Ted Talk: Why the Only Future Building Includes Everyone. Michael Green also gives a brilliant presentation on How We Can Make the World a Better Place by 2030. And it’s worth mentioning the Venus Project again, as it is an organization working towards an alternative vision of the future based on shared resources and equality.

https://www.ted.com/talks

Perhaps just tuning into Ted Talks once in awhile instead of watching the news or a sitcom on television could be a powerful tool in expanding your own mind-set. And while media can be inspiring, attempting to step away from all media and technology and getting involved in events in your community is a great way to feel engaged. It doesn’t always have to be serious. It could be taking in a spoken word or acoustic evening at a local pub/coffee house. It could be going to a festival for music, health, or spirituality. It could be inviting your neighbour over for coffee or a glass of wine and making a connection over conversation.

Story-telling can be a powerful way to invoke change because stories move us. That is part of my mission in writing musings of an emotional creature. In her Ted Talk If a Story Moves You, Act on It, Sisonke Msimang claims that stories can heal rifts and bridge divides because they make us care. They show us the bigger picture. Yet without action, stories don’t create change. You need to act on the emotions that ignite and inspire you. That’s where a lot of us get stuck.

 

Joining a group of like-minded people has the potential to offer support and volume to your voice. You can get involved in local branches of international organizations such as Amnesty International, World Health Organization, or various NGO’s.

If you are a feminist, you might want to check out http://www.globalsisterhood.com.

In Saudi Arabia, the King Abdullah University of Science and Technology, or KAUST is focusing on creating and nurturing talent and the Center for Creative Leadership (CCL) is prepared to meet the challenges of a rapidly changing world. “Around the world the image of the authoritarian hero-leader is being challenged, and the Middle East is no exception,” says David Altman, CCL EMEA’s Executive VP & Managing Director – See more at: http://www.iedp.com/articles/creating-collaborative-leadership-in-saudi-arabia/#sthash.aykg1x32.dpuf

In Canada, there are a plethora of organizations, depending on your passion. If you are an environmentalist you can get involved in Friends of the Earth. If science and health are where your skill set lies, LEADS promotes collaborating in research and development. These are only two examples to inspire you to google organizations based on your own interests.

In direct contrast, sometimes it can be powerful to befriend a person from a group that you are in opposition to. I watched a short clip on Now This where four people were asked to participate in a collaboration to build a bar together. Each of them was affiliated with a label; there was a sexist, a feminist, a transgender and a climate-change denier. They didn’t inform each other of their labels. As they worked on their project they talked. They were given several questions to discuss and during the conversation they built a rapport. Then their labels were revealed. They were given a choice, to discuss their differences over a Heineken at the bar they just built together, or leave. They chose to talk.

 

Making a friend with a person in a group whose ideology isn’t in alignment with yours breaks down barriers. As you get to know the representative from the group as an individual, you often discover you have more in common with them than the things you disagree on. You can then agree to disagree while working together, in harmony, to make the world a better place. Ted is at the forefront once again, with a great talk by Elizabeth Lesser titled:  Take “the other” to Lunch.

 

If you are interested in breaking down the walls of the ghetto mentality and are feeling stuck about how to act on it, here’s a summary of the suggestions put forth in this blog. Collaborate. Listen to and tell stories. Join a group of like-minded individuals. Befriend “the other.”

So yeah, I’m feeling expansive; hoping to bring down the walls of the ghetto mentality.

Feeling Hopeful; Digging for Light in the Darkness with my Daughter in Goa, India

A few weeks ago I received a message from my daughter, asking me if I would consider coming to spend time with her in Goa, to hold and behold her. She had been living at an ashram and had decided to leave earlier than intended due to difficult experiences with her teacher. That is her story to tell. My story is about how my heart called me to be with her. I said yes.

 

 

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My daughter, Tamara Dawn

 

Stepping for the first time onto an Air India vessel was like stepping backwards in time several decades. Thin, faded retro carpet. Stained, damaged, upholstery. I took comfort in the silver lining that I was seated at the front of economy (extra leg-room) and the plane wasn’t booked to capacity (extra two empty seats beside me). My smoky-screened personal entertainment system was dysfunctional; with no power what-so-ever, but the cheery attendant happily moved me to the vacant seat directly adjacent on the opposite window.

I watched the movie Arrival, an interesting feature based in the future. It addressed the current movement of fear-based policy and politics that have humankind cocooning into their separateness, building walls around their countries, making choices from fear, misunderstanding, mistrust, and ineffective communication. The message of the movie was that for the planet to survive it is imperative that people focus their energy on building a global community.

I peered out my window as I approached the massive, sprawling city of Mumbai; a combination of the usual city spires and domestic architecture, as well as a heart-wrenching number of horrific slums, the aluminum structures propped precariously against one another in row upon row of human degradation. Tears flowed down my cheeks at the inhumanity of it all.

I’d worn my abaya throughout the flight, taking some solace of comfort in it’s protection. I felt vulnerable, a woman travelling alone in a patriarchal social milieu. But the heat and humidity were radiating in the arrivals terminal and so I removed my abaya and slid it into my carry-on. I quickly realized that in Indian culture women generally dress more conservatively than Canadian women. Clad in colourful, gauzy saris, they would never show their shoulders in public as I was, although curiously, they weren’t averse to having their tummies or mid-backs revealed. Interesting to observe, the nuances of culture.

I had six hours to wait in the Mumbai airport before boarding an even sketchier plane to Goa. As I boarded I couldn’t help but think of Airplane Disaster episodes I’d watched with Mister, where the investigations led to discoveries of faulty old parts in old planes. I pushed the negative thoughts from my mind, settled into my shabby seat, cranky with lack of sleep and intense air conditioning blasting down on me, to doze in and out until landing just over an hour later.

I collected my bag from the luggage carousel in the tiny airport and found my way outside the terminal where I spotted my beautiful daughter waiting for me, looking like a contrasting vision of vulnerability and fire. The hot wind blew a welcoming kiss across my skin and I felt alive with the hum of India as I embraced my daughter tenderly, ready to shower her with all the force of my motherly love.

It was dark, so all I could discern of Goa was the coloured twinkly lights and the smell of curry and waste and the sound of horns beeping, dogs barking, and chickens squawking as our taxi driver navigated the narrow dusty roads to Tamara’s apartment. We each carried one of my cases up the narrow winding steps, through the creaky iron gates. It was past midnight and as we’d connected on the hour and half drive, we flopped into bed, the fan purring above us.

Suddenly, it stopped. The fan died. The heat fell on us like a heavy wool blanket, suffocating and thick. Sleepily, Tamara informed me, yes, the power goes out sometimes. What to do? I thought perhaps I couldn’t breathe. I managed somehow to stay calm and keep breathing and when the fan started up briefly I lit up with joyful enthusiasm, pulling the sifted air deeply into my lungs, only to have it stop again as suddenly as it began. I fell asleep, despite myself, and awoke much later to discover the fan back on and felt the kind of gratitude only absence can induce.

Waking to a new day, I was present to my mission of loving, supporting, and being there for my daughter. We went about the task of preparing food and talked easily together, as well as with her roommate. Then we gathered our bags and left with the intention of viewing retreat options in the vicinity. Tamara had rented a scooter, and while she drove quite skillfully, I was tense with the lack of helmets and the crowded narrow roads and the hazards of wild dogs and cows appearing out of nowhere to dart dangerously across our path.

Our first stop was a quaint little set-up of white canvas casitas situated right on the beach. In hindsight, I wish I would have just trusted Tamara and said yes, but I was still unfamiliar with India, still transitioning, and I wasn’t ready to make a commitment without checking out a few more options. We decided to walk along the quiet little stretch of beach that sparkled in the sun just steps from the resort. We plunked ourselves down in the hot sand to let the sun soak it’s healing magic into our skin. Worried about my possessions, I declined joining Tamara for a dip in the salty blue-gray waters of the Indian ocean, preferring instead to sit in peaceful solitude.

 

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Tamara enjoying the Indian ocean in Goa

 

 

We talked and walked to a café and ordered mint lemonade and talked some more. We processed together some of the darkness that she experienced at the Ashram, remembering even in that space to also dig for, and acknowledge the light.  I urged her to allow herself to heal from her experience before taking on the responsibility of holding the Guru accountable. It felt like flow and it felt like love and it felt like it was good enough.

Later, we found a restaurant on a different patch of beach where the ocean lapped lazily in ebb and flow along the silky shoreline. We ordered traditional vegetarian Indian cuisine; eggplant and spinach and paneer in flavourful curries with rice and naan. We held hands, then drove back to her apartment, having somehow forgotten in our ebb and flow of connection to look for a retreat. I also forgot my commitment to be supportive and leave behind my own agenda. I allowed myself to be distracted by discomfort and put that into her space. I’m sorry.

The next morning, we hopped back onto her scooter to go investigate retreat options, as originally planned. We viewed the hotel Lalita, Goa’s apparent 5-star facility, but it was booked to capacity. We checked out a whimsical property called Dreamcatcher, but it didn’t have air conditioning. We ended up realizing the first place we’d looked at the day before, Blue Moon, was the perfect compromise and we recognized it was the sanctuary for healing we had been searching for all along.

Our healing journey expanded. Tamara knew of an establishment nearby that offered authentic Ayurvedic massage. I found myself drifting in and out of time and felt gratitude for the gift of deep pressure on my aching muscles. I hoped that Tamara’s body would receive the strength of our Indian masseuse’s talents too. Namascar.

We ate lunch together in an open-air café, drinking chai tea, which I would become slightly addicted to over the next few days. I savoured the crispy rice flour crepe stuffed with spicy mashed potatoes and a grated beet and carrot salad with peanut dressing. Then we gathered our belongings from her apartment and loaded them into a Tuk-tuk taxi to make the short journey to Blue Moon.

Situated at the edge of the forest, where the river and the ocean converge, sits a semi-circle of white canvas tent-style casitas each with a name of a planet, Neelchamp, or Blue Moon as I prefer to call it. With a bit of persistence in our negotiations with Sunil, a very friendly and accommodating member of the staff with excellent English, we booked the Venus, an air conditioned unit with a back-up fan powered by solar energy. The seven huts encircle the modest but attractive restaurant overlooking the ocean, where we consumed most of our meals over the next few days.

 

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Blue Moon, Goa

 

 

We deposited our bags inside our tent. Tamara left to spend some time meditating and practicing asanas by the beach while I indulged in a large glass of Italian red wine and a bottle of icy cold water on our porch, writing in my journal as the cool breeze from the ocean caressed me. Suddenly I felt a tiny pinprick of concern and I decided to go and look for her. I found Tamara sitting cross-legged on the beach, lightly dusted in sand; she was glowing and looked grounded in her centre. I looked in her eyes, smiled broadly, and said simply, Hello … welcome back.

 

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Me writing on our porch

 

 

 

We went for dinner at the restaurant, Earth. Sunil brought us the remainder of the bottle he had opened for me earlier; Tamara commenting leave it to you to find a good wine in India. I ordered Mariana Trench followed by bananas soaked in rum with ice-cream. The tastes and textures tantalized my tongue and I was finally at home in the vibrant, organic experience of India. In that moment, everything in my world felt exactly as it should be, or, rather, even more perfect than I could have hoped for or imagined.

We spent the next few days drenched in rest, relaxation and rejuvenation. We moved in and out of easy flow and challenging stickiness as we processed emotions in the present that triggered memories from the ashes of the past. At one point, watching three crows and a crab, the mysteries of the Universe seemed so simple and my muse was inspired to write a poem; something I hadn’t done in awhile.

At my favourite time of day, the time in-between day and night when the sun and moon converge in the sky and the air embodies a surreal quality, we took our yoga mats to the place where the ocean sand is greeted by a wall of forest. We practiced yoga asanas together, Tamara leading us in a tantric series with a gentle invitation to honour our bodies and relax into each posture with intention. At times, I found myself distracted by the barking of approaching dogs or the scuttling of crabs in the sand or Indian women walking by with their children, their bangles dangling merrily. I felt playful and patient, grounded and light.

 

Tamara on the beach in Goa

Tamara Dawn; namaste

 

 

The sun set on the drama and emotion, offering new beginnings, our relationship as complicated and as simple as the Universe. I prayed, as my brief time with my daughter came to an end, that she would find a way to integrate the lessons while being gentle and loving and supportive to herself inside of her vulnerability. I prayed for the insights she gained to be manifested and multiplied by the multitudes of people faced with similar situations, where vast spiritual teaching is corrupted and misused by Gurus and other people in positions of power. I prayed for my own courage, to let my daughter find her own way, remembering my purpose is to love.

So yeah, I’m feeling hopeful; digging for light in the darkness with my daughter in Goa, India.

 

 

Feeling like I’m Going Around in Circles, Trying to Discover my Dharma

I began this soul-searching quest long before I’d ever heard of the term Dharma, but desperate to discover its existence none-the-less.

My initial query into the realms of living a purposeful life began in my early thirties. I was in a challenging marriage. I had three children. Money was tight. I felt overwhelmed. Watching Oprah one afternoon, the baby asleep, the toddler busy crafting and the eldest at school, folding what seemed like a never-ending flow of laundry, the tiniest of sparks was ignited. Oprah was interviewing Sarah Ban Breathnach and they were discussing the topic her book, Something More: Excavating Your Authentic Self. Inspired, I bought the book, along with an artist’s sketchbook, a towering pile of glossy magazines, and a fresh package of pencil crayons. I went about digging into my past, trying to resurrect my identity through photos and memories and compilations of artistic endeavours.

I suffered a severe depressive episode in 2007. Despite having made some discoveries and even making some changes in how I lived, I was still trying (and unsuccessfully I may add) to please others. The daily denial of my very identity, as well as unprocessed traumas from the past, left me experiencing thoughts of suicide and hopelessness. During my recovery, the spark I’d identified years earlier expanded. I awakened, again, to the knowledge that I had to make some profound changes. I knew I had to unearth my authentic self once again.

In 2015 my interest piqued again. This time, thankfully, the journey of self-discovery was not triggered by depression. It was activated by a series of life events that had me curious about what path my life would take next. I was in transition, no longer teaching, and yearning to change directions. I was looking for insight into how my talents might manifest into a new career. I picked up a copy of Ken Robinson’s Finding Your Element and began to devour the readings and complete the activities with earnest.

While I appreciated the insights I gained around my aptitudes, attitudes, passions and opportunities, the answer didn’t announce itself to me with dazzling clarity. Frankly, I was still just as muddled up and confused as when I began. It seems that I have been gifted with a plethora of lovely gifts, but none of them stands out as “the one.” I have many talents and interests, dreams and desires, but none seems more pressing or important than another.

So, I carried on as people do, still confused, yet happy enough engaging in a multitude of different tasks. I filled my days with a variety of writing projects I have on the go, household chores, trying out new recipes, exercising, and engaging with family and friends. Then a close friend of mine invited me to join a book study of Stephen Cope’s The Great Work of Your Life. I was back on the hamster wheel, running, or perhaps sauntering, in search of my apparent greatness.

From the start, I was irritated by this book, which seemed to hold forth as its premise a promise of being able to discern your dharma if only you look to it. Inspired by the dialogue between Krishna (God) and Arjuna (a human warrior) in the ancient and sacred texts of the Bhagavad Gita, I felt certain that my dharma would finally be revealed to me. But alas, I felt even further confused as the examples held forth of great lives seemed too magnificent and grandiose.

The women in my group felt similarly challenged, finding the examination of the lives of famous artists like Beethoven and Emerson daunting. The flavour was patriarchal, despite the inclusion of women like Susan B. Anthony and Jane Goodall. These women devoted their entire lives to their causes. The important work of raising families and being wives and mothers didn’t seem to be acknowledged. As women, each of us present felt drawn and divided. Laughing, we quoted the song by Meredith Brooks, I’m a Bitch.

 

After reading the first three pillars of dharma, we were gathered together for discussion and Kim shared with us a video by Adam Leipzig titled How to Know Your Life Purpose in 5 Minutes that was illuminating for her. She found his road-map to finding your purpose useful, while I got derailed with the statement, “What do you feel supremely qualified to teach other people?” I was educated and worked for over twenty years a teacher in a variety of educational settings, but none of my life experiences left me feeling supremely qualified.

 

As it turns out, it isn’t uncommon to find it difficult to discern your own area of supreme qualification. It is often a skill that comes so naturally and easily, the fact that you didn’t need to work your ass off to obtain it obscures it. Sometimes your dharma isn’t so easily identified because it doesn’t manifest as a career or calling, but as a way you live your life. My friends encouraged me to let my feelings, not my thinking, guide me.

I finished reading the book. I meditated. I prayed. I tried to let it go, claiming, who cares anyway? I’m living my life! I’m happy! But it is next to impossible for me to lie to anyone, let alone myself, and I couldn’t shake this grasping need to know the answer to the question, what is the purpose of my birth?

One evening my Mister and I were scrolling through possible Ted Talks when my eye was drawn to a presentation by Elizabeth Lesser titled, Say Your Truths and Seek Them in Others. She shared, among many poignant stories, a truth that was revealed to her when she was a mid-wife delivering babies; that we’re all born completely unique. At birth, we are certain of our magnificence and shine in our authenticity. Then we are socialized into covering up our differences and attempting to conform. She challenged viewers to uncover their souls, challenge themselves to stay open during painful life situations, and look for the sacred awe.

 

Exploring my feelings, I recognized that what has always held the most meaning for me in my life are connections with people. Not the fluffy exchange of niceties we practice in polite passing, but the powerfully, fully engaged and meaningful sharing of souls. When I looked back on my life, I noticed that the benchmarks I valued weren’t when I graduated from University or started teaching in a new placement or bought a new home. They were all about relationships. When my children were born. When my father died. When I married. When the adoption was granted. And how I felt in all the little moments, when I saw souls bared naked before me, and felt, in return, seen.

And so, I finally arrived, if there is such a thing, at an answer that feels good enough. Kim, you will be happy to know I completed my homework assignment. It’s a little bit late, and I’ll probably even change my mind, but this is my elevator pitch: I create meaningful relationships by encouraging and supporting others to express their authentic thoughts and emotions.

So yeah, I’m feeling like I’ve been going around in circles, trying to discover my dharma.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Feeling Compassion About the Struggles Facing Humanity, Part II

After writing Part I, Mister and I decided it would be interesting to check out the latest documentary on the Venus Project website, The Choice is Ours. It was exhilarating to see ideas and concepts I have dreamed about being demonstrated, based on the principles advocated for by Jacques Fresco, of unification on a global scale. Fresco claims that we have the capability, technology and knowledge for global abundance for everyone if we shared all resources and knowledge as a global community.

https://www.thevenusproject.com/

As is often the case, one stream of visionary ideas seemed to open the door for more to come flooding into my awareness. I was jazzed to start writing Part II and chose as the topics for this blog: Education and Learning, Poverty, Population Growth, the Status of Women and Disease. I started googling and viewing Tedtalks and I was blown away by the plethora of information available. Clearly the choice is ours! We have the technology and the knowledge and skills. We only must put them into action on a global scale.

One of the most impacting videos I have watched on the topic of education was back in 2008 when I was teaching in a special needs setting. As part of our Professional Development we were shown a video by Ken Robinson, Changing Educational Paradigms. I was struck then by the vast difference between what we know about how children learn and how education is delivered through school systems, particularly public school systems. It became a sticking point for me. My value system had me attached to the concept of free, public education as an equalizer, but experience had shown me what many others knew, that public schools continue to manifest the status quo by providing inferior teachers, opportunities and resources to their private counterparts.

https://www.ted.com/talks/ken_robinson_changing_education_paradigm

Fast forward to 2017, and progress is still unfathomably slow. In her passionate Ted Talk, How America’s Public Schools Keep Kids in Poverty, Kandace Sumner outlines the same challenges of resource availability, particularly in relationship to the black and brown population, as she describes it. Of course, it isn’t about skin colour, it’s about poverty. But because of the history of black and white segregation, inequality and racial tension in the United States, there are far more poor black people than white

At present, there are more than 1 billion people in the world living in poverty. Our current value system perpetuates those in power. Greedy people prosper while the poor are enslaved. According to Jacques Fresco, our money system is a mechanism of corruption, deprivation and control where only the few at the top benefit. Higher ideals and aspirations can not be realized when there is poverty and lack of opportunities.

Andrew Youn presented an inspiring Ted Talk, Three Reasons Why We Can Win the Fight Against Poverty. Youn explains that most of the world’s poor are farmers, and most of them are women. They lack access to the tools and knowledge in existence and being used in the first world. So, delivery of tools and knowledge is key. Youn suggests that to accomplish this goal, every field of human development needs to expand to deliver resources. People like teachers and health care workers and farmers need to devote time and money. One Acre Fund currently serves 400,000 poor farmers; providing loans, equipment, and education. It’s a positive step in the right direction, we just need to expand and multiply these kinds of projects.

 

Population growth, or population explosion as I have often heard it termed, may not be as significant a factor as once thought. I read statistics on various cites. They don’t always agree about projections, but while the increase in world population was three times greater from 1900 to 2000 than the entire previous history of humanity, it peaked in 1962. In 1962 the world population increased by 2.1 %, compared to present-day where the rate is half that, at 1.1%. When you look at it closer, the rates vary, predictably, by regions. In the first world, where education rates are higher, the birth rate is lower. In developing countries, the birth rates are usually higher, but so is disease, starvation and poverty related mortalities.

In terms of population growth, what is important is education and empowerment. An educated and contributing population is valuable. Women need to be able to make choices around pregnancy. They need to know their options. Education for communities around safe sexual practices and birth control methods is vital. Wouldn’t it be a better world if every pregnancy was, if not planned, wanted and all parents felt supported to access appropriate resources to raise their children?

Which brings me to the topic of the status of women. The UN Commission on the status of women was held March 13 – 24 2017 in New York. The focus was on women’s empowerment, particularly economically. Women worldwide earn 23% less for work of equal value to their male counterparts. While women comprise 61.5% of the Services work force, only 4% of CEO’s of Fortune 500 companies are women. The world of work is changing fast, spurred by innovation, globalization and mobility. Yet women continue to face barriers of unequal pay, discrimination, and access. “They shoulder the enormous – economically essential – burden of unpaid care and domestic work.”

http://www.unwomen.org/en

The sad fact about deaths by disease is that most are preventable. Ken Silverstein, author of Millions for Viagra, Pennies for Diseases of the Poor, asserts that most of the deaths due to disease occur “in the third world (from) preventable, curable diseases (such as) malaria, tuberculosis, and acute lower-respiratory infections.” However, the number one condition causing death globally is Cardiovascular disease, which accounts for 30% of all global deaths. Of those, 80% occur in low and middle income families. Studies have shown that pollution and other environmental impacts increase the occurrence of cardio-vascular disease.

Clearly, once again, it is about the rich and poor divide. It is about increasing gaps instead of narrowing divides, between have and have-nots, rich and poor, healthy and sick, educated and illiterate, women and men.

The future can unfold in a myriad of different possibilities. Perhaps a total global systems approach will manifest, where global cooperation, a resource based economy and the use of sophisticated technologies create a model of existence based on abundance instead of scarcity, as Jacques Fresco envisions. Perhaps the future will have humans abandoning the Earth altogether in search of life on other planets, as depicted in movies like Star Trek, Star Wars, and Passengers.  Our imaginations are limitless, we need only the resolve.

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Change is possible – let’s make it happen!

And yeah, still feeling compassionate (and hopeful) about the struggles facing humanity.

 

Feeling Compassion About the Struggles Facing Humanity; Part I

Being an optimist, I tend to avoid the news. I try to focus on the positives, on the good things people are doing. But inevitably, my attention gets drawn towards the numerous struggles facing humanity. And since putting your head in the sand never makes your problems disappear, it seems prudent to address these challenges. We must identify the issues before we can work towards change. We all must do our part, in our own unique way.

 

Which all sounds reasonable, until I started to delve into it. I quickly realized I wasn’t going to be able to cover all, or even the top struggles, in one blog. I’ve decided to break it down into a two-part series. This post I will look at the issues of Food & Water, Sustainable Development & Climate Change, Peace & Conflict, Global Finance and the Sex Trafficking Industry.

 

Yesterday I was mindlessly scrolling through the television channels while eating my lunch when a broadcast on CNN caught my eye, and then my heart. The U.N. made a statement that the world is facing its largest humanitarian crisis since 1945. 20 million people are at risk of starvation in Kenya, Yemen, South Sudan and Somalia. The devastation of a massive drought, combined with the Terrorist group, Al-Shabaab, blocking roads and stealing aid have combined to create this horrific situation.

http://edition.cnn.com/2017/03/11/africa/un-famine-starvation-aid/

The distribution of food and water globally is a challenge that many have already identified and are working towards changing. The problem is one that permeates many of the big issues facing humankind. There is a huge gap between the have’s and the have not’s. In the third world, approximately 36 million people starve to death every year, while in the first world, 66% of Americans are either obese or overweight.

Factory farming, particularly the inhuman treatment of factory farmed animals, is a blight on a supposedly civilized world. The facts are that 37% of CH4 (methane) emissions are caused by factory farming. 41 million metric tons of CO2 emissions are created from burning fossil fuels to produce fertilizers. And 2.4 billion tons of CO2 emissions are caused by deforestation for animal crop feed. I viewed a Ted Talk where the speaker identified that if every person in the world were to commit to a vegetarian diet, even only for two days of the week, the positive impact would be significant. You can read more in-depth commentaries on this issue in Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer or The Omnivores Dilemma by Michael Pollan. The efforts of a few folks on the fringe aren’t enough; there needs to be a global commitment.

 

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Access to clean water should be a basic human right. It’s outrageous to me that some people consume bottled water by the caseload while others are forced to drink from contaminated water supplies. I am inspired by the human ability to create solutions, like the invention of portable and inexpensive water purifying systems. But again, the challenge comes to distribution and economics.

Sustainable development projects are emerging. I watched an excellent Ted Talk by Josette Sheeran. She left her successful banking career to travel to Africa and work with the community to educate and facilitate change. Passionately, she explains how every 10 seconds we lose a child to hunger. She goes on to cite statistics proving we have the technologies and systems to end hunger now. It’s about transforming through knowledge. It’s about farming techniques like permaculture. It’s about availability and distribution of nutrition, such as the World Food Programme’s Wawa Mum, a complete meal produced for only 17 cents a packet. Despite these initiatives, there needs to be more support, time, money and education into creating community driven solutions to sustainable food production.

 

In the oil and gas industry there is a reluctance to embrace the need to develop sustainable energy resources. The current system is highly beneficial for the CEO’s of oil and gas companies and the sheer magnitude of effort that replacing it would require is likely daunting. However, scientists and researchers are hard at work exploring alternatives and there is a growing body of possibilities including biofuels, hydropower, electricity, solar, geothermal and nuclear.

Climate change and global warming are remarkably still debated as to the reality of their existence. Some claim that the climate changes we are witnessing are simply part of the natural range of conditions on the planet Earth over time. This black and white thinking is no more helpful in this situation than any other. The fact that the earth undergoes climate shifts that aren’t related to human interference is acknowledged by both sides. Al Gore explored the impact back in 2006 in the documentary An Inconvenient Truth. More recently, in 2012, environmental photographer James Balog illustrated the magnitude of the problem in Chasing Ice. Even if you don’t believe that global warming is an issue, it’s hard to deny that the way human beings are consuming resources, polluting the environment, and treating the Earth is destructive.

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Peace and Conflict have forever been a part of human existence, but that doesn’t mean the goal towards peace isn’t attainable or at least worth aiming for. Ken Robinson reasons that for peace to occur on a global scale, it must first begin with the individual. And yet it is a chicken and egg scenario, for how does a person born into war-torn regions such as Syria find peace within themselves?

In 2008 the United States spent over 1$Trillion on their military, which, by the way, is twice the amount spent by all the other countries on Earth combined. Yet Trump wants to spend more to protect Americans against all others, who are seen as the Enemy. It’s time to shift from the War on Drugs and the War on Terror to a Revolution against Greed and Corruption, Self-Advancement, Entitlement and Exclusionism.  To learn more about a real-life example of how to live “beyond politics, poverty and war,” check out The Venus Project.

https://www.thevenusproject.com/

Global Economy is yet another example of inequality. At present, 1% of the world elite controls half of the total world finances, while the richest 10% controls 90% of the global economy. The fair distribution of wealth is a difficult challenge to overcome. Those ten percent of people are very powerful and connected politically. While there are a few philanthropists like Oprah and Bill Gates, many of the world elite are driven by greed and corruption. They benefit from the status quo, and work to ensure that the current system continues.

While filming one of his documentaries Michael Moore interviewed the chairman of Nike, Phil Knight. He was trying to hold him accountable for using Indonesian teenage girls working in factories for 40 cents a day. Moore suggested that if he were to hire unemployed Americans, particularly those in Flint, Michigan, instead, Nike would still make a profit and he himself would perhaps be, instead of a billionaire, a half billionaire. The Nike chairman refused. After watching I wanted to burn my Nikes. Instead, I committed to never buying another Nike product again, and I haven’t.

The sex trafficking industry is another issue plaguing humanity. It is intolerable and quite frankly, appalling to me that it continues to exist. Clearly there is a market and demand.  Apparently abusive and demeaning practices are not limited to animals and the environment, but are considered appropriate towards human beings as well.  Particularly women and girls. Please open the links to Ashton’s Kutcher’s video from Facebook and Sunitha Krishnan’s Ted Talk, The Fight Against Sex Slavery to inform yourself of the reality of this horrific situation. You can also check out the movie Whistleblower, starring Rachel Weisz, for an emotionally impacting dramatization.

 

 

It can feel overwhelming, when you start to look at these challenges. But it is important not to let the fear or the immensity of the situation keep you from acting, from not taking responsibility. If we all do our part, with the gifts we have, in our little part of the world, we can be the change we want to see in the world. One small step at a time.

So yeah, I’m feeling compassion about the struggles facing humanity.