Life in Full Colour

Today’s Reflection is about a life with an open heart.

These past few weeks have been “interesting” for me, which is an interesting word to use to begin with. It all started with an incredible 2-day workshop with Gail Larsen (the next one coming up in this ‘hood is here). Apparently, it doesn’t even take 2 days to bring a group of about 24 seeming strangers deep into their heart, the core of who they are, and the message they want to speak out to the world.

And it went onward from there, deeper and deeper. There were moments of profoundly rich and deep connections with friends, some of whom I have not seen in a while. And similar in look-and-feel moments with people I just met, yet know already they will remain in my life for a long time. What followed was an academic year-end weekend at Bainbridge Graduate Institute where one of my groups of students finished their first year, while another graduated with their MBA in Sustainable Business. Students called it a “leaky face” weekend. I do too.

“Someday after we have mastered the winds, the waves, and gravity, we will harness for God the energies of love; and then for the second time in the history of the world, human beings will have discovered fire.” - Teilhard de Chardin

Here I am thinking about these past few weeks, while listening to an annoying music waiting for an Air Canada agent to come on the line. It is a space of a fully open heart, that adds a very unique richness to the everyday experience of life regardless of what is actually happening. This richness expressed itself not by adding new colours to the daily experiences of various events, but rather by adding in shades of existing colours, mixing them up, and then gently and quietly spreading them in-between the existing ones without worrying about clear and distinct borders between the old and the new. The resulting palette is vibrant and exquisite...

And it impacts everything, whether appropriate and relevant or not. Being deeply touched and moved by a conversation with a friend might deem “appropriate;” so is listening to a Vinyl Café podcast by a master storyteller Stuart McLean. Yet, listening to the daily news and having the same experience might feel strange. Inappropriate. “What’s up with that?” kind of a moment. Still, the palette is there, deepening and enriching the experience of everything I am encountering these days. And, despite the possible strangeness of it, I find myself savouring the moments, perhaps better understanding Mark Twain’s “There are those who drink deeply and fully from the stream of life, and there are those who simply gargle” saying quite viscerally.

As I am flying early tomorrow morning with Air Canada, all that remains is to be deeply moved by having the flight be on time and have the threat of an impending strike removed. With fingers crossed, and heart open.


A sunny week to you all, inside and out.

33 Dunes in the Ténéré Desert

Today’s Reflection is about indigenous wisdom. And future.

The Ténéré desert in Niger is a stretch of dunes on the south side of the Sahara that is so immense it’s been dubbed a “sand sea.” The Ténéré is renowned for its ferocious sandstorms. Even experienced nomads can lose their way, and losing your way can mean missing a water hole. If you miss a water hole, that’s the end of your trip. You simply die of thirst.

One part of the second chapter of the stunning BBC series, the Human Planet, follows a group of nomads crossing this desert. The Tubu women. They make the journey northwards to the oasis of Dirkou once a year to buy dates. They carry the dates back down south to trade for their annual household needs: clothes, soap, and millet to supplement their diet of meat and milk. Each year in late August, the time of the date harvest in the oases north of the Ténéré, the Tubu women saddle up their camels and set out to make a round trip of more than 600 miles across the desert. The women are, apparently, better navigators than men. They are also renowned for their exceptional powers of endurance and courage. It is told that when food is short, a Tubu can make a date last for three days. On day one, she nibbles off the skin and sucks it. On day two, she eats the flesh; and on day three, she sucks the stone.

The first leg of the journey was of about 80 kilometers, until the first water hole. 3 days across dunes that look alike, and shift constantly, depending on the winds and the storms. Yet, not for the Tubu women, who know how to find this water hole. “Count 33 dunes,” said the leader woman, “and then you will see a single tree.” On the third day, with 20 km left to the water hole, she lets a young 10-year old girl lead the caravan and find the water hole. And the girl finds it.

“Nature imposes limits on all things, causing energy to build up from within. In fact, without limitations it is impossible to maximize our potential. When we understand, accept, and apply limitations it can be very effective in bringing about a transformation. Water unchecked has a tendency to spread and lose itself into the ground. When it is restrained by a dam it becomes tremendous source of energy.” - Tao

As I watched this incredible journey, I kept thinking of the ancient indigenous knowledge we are losing at an incredibly rapid pace, because of our continual and escalating drive to rely on technology, instead of the human skills. Every indigenous group or tribe that fades into history, takes with them a vast amount of precious knowledge about their lives, habits, traditions, healing practices, stories, ways to live in alignment with the natural world, and a whole lot more. Knowledge we all could have used today and learned from.

I am thinking about my parents, medical doctors, who started their professional career in various remote villages in Russia. There was no sophisticated equipment in the so-called hospitals, beyond the absolute basic. How would they diagnose, for instance, diabetes? Simple – taste the urine of the patient, somehow knowing exactly the level of sweetness that would indicate a problem. Necessity was indeed the mother of skill.

I am thinking of a story I read, a long while back, about a Tibetan doctor who was invited to lecture at the Harvard Medical School. He did a demonstration during his lecture, whereby he diagnosed over 460 (!) different diseases using only the 12 pulses in the patients’ hands. Later on, this story was confirmed to me by one of my current students, who apparently was a medical student then and witnessed the demonstration.

“Yes, it is important to see the world as full of possibilities – to shift our world view from one of resignation to one of possibility. But if we are to participate in the unfolding process of the universe, we must let life flow through us, rather than attempt to control life.”

I am thinking of the many possible future scenarios that humankind is heading towards. With the rapid pace of change in the world around us, future is a hard thing to predict. We can only look at options and possibilities, envisioning and imagining scenarios – that may or may not happen. In at least a few of those possible options, knowing how to find water in the desert might be a lot more useful and valuable than, say, how to do a Google search, or use the latest GPS app on an iPhone to find one’s way.


A sunny week to you all, inside and out.

Oh Canada... How I Cry for Thee...

Today’s Reflection is about the elections results here in Canada, and my reaction to it.

I really love what The Guardian has to say about our election results, and so am going to quite their opening from an article, titled “Canada’s cold new dawn: Conservative prime minister Stephen Harper is our version of George W Bush, minus the warmth and intellect.”

The article starts with “Canada woke up to an election shock this morning. It was a self-inflicted jolt, and all the more painful for that. After three minority governments in seven years – all following inconclusive, forgettable elections that never gave the Conservatives the solid majority they were sweating for – a man of the hard right named Stephen Harper finally has his win.”

Disbelief, shock, frustration, sadness, and anger – all these are alive within me now. How else does one react to a prime minister who once sneeringly referred to Canada as a typical northern European "welfare state?”

As I am slowly easing out of my emotions and into the reality of what happened here on Monday and what it might mean, thoughts about the impact on our future begin to percolate. What if?


If you are a woman, a minority, or someone whose relationship partner is of the same gender – too bad for you.

If you happen to be an artist, too bad for you too.

If you are an environmentalist and think that Canada could, and should, be a model and a lead of environmental and sustainable practices, while upholding its commitments to past agreements, you might want to look for a different country.

If you believe in alternative medicine and remedies, beginning to look for alternative sources is not too late now.

If you think that war is not the answer and huge spending on more weaponry are not the best way to spend our money on, think again.

If you want your politician to actually speak the truth, tough. Though this one is likely not limited only to Harper.

If you truly believe in the freedom of speech and access to information in a democracy, my condolences.

If you happen to be severely ill and need medical cannabis to ease your pain, learning to live with this pain would be a good idea.

If you believe that Canadian soldiers have no business being in Afghanistan, too bad.

If you think that jail, or a super-jail, is not always the answer to any and every offence, and especially not for a young person, you are out of luck.

If you believe that corporations need to pay more, not less, taxes (or, at least, the same), guess what?!

If you think that having the Evangelist Christian right is at the heart of Harper's Conservative party might not be such a great thing...

If you believe Canada should maintain its rights to its natural resources, and not sell them out to a variety of multinationals (limiting democratic policy options and enhancing corporate power - which really means enhancing trade at the expense of everything else), you are out of luck.

I am sure there are many more “ifs” of this nature that I am not aware of. In the meantime, I shall stop here.


Perhaps the only solace is that the darkest hour of the night, as they say, is just before dawn; in this case, it will be a 4-year long and dark hour. Enough time for a (to quote TheTyee article “Now What for Canada's Left?”) very long term fight, a generational fight, rooted in a serious and thoughtful collective examination of where we have been, what we did wrong and what we need to do right. It will be very, very hard as we will be trying to build a vision of a better future, one that can truly inspire and engage people, while conditions are getting dramatically worse and many people suffer the consequences of this election. But there is no other way. Rebuilding a progressive political culture from the ground up is the starting point. The silver lining is that it will be challenging, exciting and invigorating. In other words, something completely different.

Oh Canada... How I Cry for Thee...

A Story of a Wake-up Call

Today’s Reflection is about an encounter in the air, and the resulting story of listening to a painful wake up call.

Here I am, sitting at the Toronto Pearson airport, having just arrived from Vancouver, and on the way to Israel. A few hours to read, write, and move around until the next flight in a few short hours. My eyes are tired, and I would love to take a nap. The fact is, I would love to have slept all the way from Vancouver, because it was an early morning flight and 4:30 AM is not my most preferred wake up time. Yet, I didn't close my eyes for even a moment during the flight, being engaged in a fascinating conversation the whole way from Vancouver to Toronto.

"To live deeper, we have to go to the places that help us find a slower rhythm. But simply going to these places is not enough. We have to let these places touch us, change us, speak to us."

I ended up sitting beside John (not his real name), and we started chatting before the plane even took off. The following is a story of John's wake up call and the changes one goes through in the process of deep, impactful, painful, and transformational learning.

John was a financial broker, dealing with what I understand to be the most dangerous and risky areas of the financial markets - futures and derivatives - for over 20 years. High-paced life, with the primary focus on money and all the perks that come with it, like a million-dollar home on a lake in Ontario. The only other passions were hockey, playing and coaching his and other kids.

Wake up calls in life often come and hit us like a truck. John's was a literal one, when a truck ran a red light and hit him, with two of his three kids still being in the car. Seemingly - and surprisingly - not much damage, other than bruises, a twisted ankle, pain in the lower back, and a bump on the side of the head. Seemingly.

Over the next 14 months, life started deteriorating for John. He became impatient and arrogant with people, both at work and at home. As someone who could hold several calculus equations in his head, and solve them at the same time, he found himself not being able to multitask, or even solve basic mathematical calculations; a crucial skill for a stock broker. His income dwindled by about 80% and more. He became angry with everybody, yet could not understand what is happening to him.

Until the day he sat with a lifelong friend who was a psychologist, who - after a few minutes of a conversation - insisted on taking John to the hospital. There, he was diagnosed with brain damage to his left hemisphere, which got punctured during the accident - 14 months earlier.

That was only the beginning. Because of his deteriorating behaviour (which nobody understood the reasons for at the time), his wife filed for a divorce, taking all his property and finances. While he was in a hospital, his company called all his clients, telling them that John has left the company, and took them over - without letting him know. They also found a way to avoid paying any of his medical bills, effectively getting rid of him to fight for his life on his own.

He lived on the streets for a while, hitting rock bottom, while at the same time learning to re-train his brain and restarting the parts that has ceased functioning. It took years. As part of this recovery process, when he was finally able to receive external help, he was advised to go and study philosophy, because it would be good for his logical reasoning. He got a scholarship and completed his undergraduate degree Cum Laude. From there, he ended up completing a graduate degree in Business and Ethics, with honours, and turned his life around.  

He is now training and consulting to financial advisers and traders, teaching them ethics and how to apply it in - a world where the word "ethics" traditionally means "let's comply with the law, while hiring a $450/hour lawyer who will find us loopholes to bypass it and make a few more millions."

"Success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue, and it only does so as the unintended side effect of one's dedication to a cause greater than oneself." - Victor Frankl

When I asked him why he chose this direction, John replied that it is his "revenge" for all that is wrong in this industry - to bring the focus to the heart, soul, and happiness in life, balancing the desire for money and power. John is passionate, relentless, full of stories, and having come from a small mining town, does not hold back on his language and ways of expressing himself and what he is deeply passionate about.

It was worth not sleeping, though I am happy I am wearing my glasses right now and not contact lens.

A sunny week to you all, inside and out.

Collaboration and Innovation in Leading Change Conference, Victoria, BC, on May 5-6, 2011

The Institute of Certified Management Consultants of British Columbia (CMC-BC) is hosting a conference on Collaboration and Innovation in Leading Change, May 5 and 6, in Victoria, BC, Canada. This event brings together a variety of experts, exploring the many aspects of organizational change approaches and strategies - from innovative strategies for complex business transformation, to creative collaboration, to sustainable change management culture.

I will be presenting a session titled Creative Leadership in Times of Complexity: Rapid escalation of complexity is possibly the biggest challenge presently facing many organizations, and it is going to both continue and accelerate in the coming years. The focus for the session is exploring the question, "How do we look at complexity as a catalyst and an accelerator to create innovation and new ways of delivering value?"

Attached is the conference brochure and poster, for more details. Am looking forward to seeing you there.

A Perspective on Life - from Sendai, Japan

Today’s Reflection is about a different way of looking at, and experiencing life.

This email, from someone I don’t know, starts with the following line: “.... from my cousin in Sendai, Japan where she has lived for the past decade teaching English.” I think it needs to be shared, to remind us that there is always more than one way to live with adversity and challenges that life seem to periodically send our way.

“As for the outside world, you will be confronted by what you see. And what you see is primarily what you look at.” - Zen saying

Hello My Lovely Family and Friends,

First I want to thank you so very much for your concern for me. I am very touched. I also wish to apologize for a generic message to you all. But it seems the best way at the moment to get my message to you.

Things here in Sendai have been rather surreal. But I am very blessed to have wonderful friends who are helping me a lot. Since my shack is even more worthy of that name, I am now staying at a friend's home. We share supplies like water, food and a kerosene heater. We sleep lined up in one room, eat by candlelight, share stories. It is warm, friendly, and beautiful.

During the day we help each other clean up the mess in our homes. People sit in their cars, looking at news on their navigation screens, or line up to get drinking water when a source is open. If someone has water running in their home, they put out a sign so people can come to fill up their jugs and buckets.

Utterly amazingly where I am there has been no looting, no pushing in lines. People leave their front door open, as it is safer when an earthquake strikes. People keep saying, "Oh, this is how it used to be in the old days when everyone helped one another."

Quakes keep coming. Last night they struck about every 15 minutes. Sirens are constant and helicopters pass overhead often.

We got water for a few hours in our homes last night, and now it is for half a day. Electricity came on this afternoon. Gas has not yet come on.

But all of this is by area. Some people have these things, others do not. No one has washed for several days. We feel grubby, but there are so much more important concerns than that for us now. I love this peeling away of non-essentials. Living fully on the level of instinct, of intuition, of caring, of what is needed for survival, not just of me, but of the entire group.

There are strange parallel universes happening. Houses a mess in some places, yet then a house with futons or laundry out drying in the sun.

People lining up for water and food, and yet a few people out walking their dogs. All happening at the same time.

Other unexpected touches of beauty are first, the silence at night. No cars. No one out on the streets. And the heavens at night are scattered with stars. I usually can see about two, but now the whole sky is filled.

The mountains of Sendai are solid and with the crisp air we can see them silhouetted against the sky magnificently.

And the Japanese themselves are so wonderful. I come back to my shack to check on it each day, now to send this e-mail since the electricity is on, and I find food and water left in my entranceway. I have no idea from whom, but it is there. Old men in green hats go from door to door checking to see if everyone is OK. People talk to complete strangers asking if they need help. I see no signs of fear. Resignation, yes, but fear or panic, no.

They tell us we can expect aftershocks, and even other major quakes, for another month or more. And we are getting constant tremors, rolls, shaking, rumbling. I am blessed in that I live in a part of Sendai that is a bit elevated, a bit more solid than other parts. So, so far this area is better off than others.  Last night my friend's husband came in from the country, bringing food and water. Blessed again.

Somehow at this time I realize from direct experience that there is indeed an enormous Cosmic evolutionary step that is occurring all over the world right at this moment. And somehow as I experience the events happening now in Japan, I can feel my heart opening very wide. My brother asked me if I felt so small because of all that is happening. I don't. Rather, I feel as part of something happening that much larger than myself. This wave of birthing (worldwide) is hard, and yet magnificent.

Thank you again for your care and Love of me,
With Love in return, to you all,


“To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic.  It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness.  What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives.  If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something,  If we remember those times and places -- and there are so many -- where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction.  And if we do act, in however a small way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.” - Howard Zinn


A sunny week to you all, inside and out.

Staying Hungry

Today’s Reflection is about being hungry. Though not only when food is concerned.

I am fasting today. It is a semi-regular habit of mine, fasting one day a week. It is a “semi” because it does not happen every week; when it does, I keep wondering why don’t I maintain it regularly. That gentle feeling of hunger becomes a powerful motivator, as I feel lighter, more energized, clear-headed, more “in the zone.” There is an extra boost of energy throughout the day, on an almost consistent level. Energy I can harness and channel towards whatever it is I am planning to do on that day.

“To her lover a beautiful woman is a delight; to a monk she is a distraction; to a mosquito, a good meal.” - Zen proverb

A great metaphor for life in general, I think...

Lessons from a washing machine

Today’s Reflection is about the impermanence of life.

My washing machine started misbehaving. Strange and loud banging noises, spin cycle not working, and everything remains thoroughly wet. Though still clean.

Nothing is permanent, apparently, which led me to contemplate this idea further. It also brought memories of a vipassana meditation retreat, years ago, where I spent 10 days contemplating the same thing. Anicca, or impermanence, is how Buddha called it. Things come, and things go. What goes up, must come down, and "what must rise, must fall," to paraphrase a song line from a long time ago. Deep Purple, I think. Though I don't know about diamonds...

The master says: "My dear fellow, I have to tell you something that you perhaps don't know. I have been thinking about how to make this news less difficult to hear - how to paint it in brighter colours, add to it promises of Paradise, visions of the Absolute, provide esoteric explanations - but they do not apply. Take a deep breath, and prepare yourself. I have to be blunt, and I assure you, I am absolutely certain of what I'm telling you. It is an infallible prediction, without any doubt whatsoever. It's the following: you are going to die. It may be tomorrow or fifty years from now, but - sooner or later - you are going to die. Even if you would rather not. Even if you have other plans. Think carefully about what you are going to do today. And tomorrow. And with the rest of your life."


The plants in my apartment grow. Yet, some also die. Regardless of my best efforts to the contrary.

The students and clients that I work with, eventually move on, leaving me with a fulfilling sense of making a difference, and also with the sadness and emptiness of completion of a mutually enriched and transformative journey.

Tobi will not live forever. OK, this one is harder to digest.

I will not remain at the same level of fitness or flexibility with my body, though the efforts and the desire are definitely alive and (mostly) present.

Not all friends will remain in my life forever. Not all have. I love getting to know the new ones, and building our connections as time goes by. Yet, I also miss some of the ones from the past, and on an occasion wonder about them and their lives.

My eyes will never see clearly, day or night, far into the distance. Or close by, for that matter. I think I have accepted this one, and the contact lenses and glasses are a testimony to it.

My favourite colourful, vibrant, and funky socks will eventually have more holes than substance to them, and I will not be able to find an exact replacement. Similar pair, and perhaps just as funky, yes. But not quite the same.

I will not always look and experience love, intimacy, and sex in quite the same way. Overall, it might be a good thing, indicating on some growth and maturity I might be going through. Yet, the vibrancy and passion of my younger years has somewhat faded into memories by now. The depth of the experiences increased.

Every traveling adventure brings joy and excitement of a new discovery, of people, places, and myself. Yet, the sense of the excitement slowly subsides with passing of time, and I enjoy coming back home, to the familiar and the comfortable, being enriched by the journey.

The fascination with a new "toy," be it a new gadget or a "thing" is also temporary. Some last longer than others, like a Pentax camera that has been serving me loyally for over 12 years, or a backpack that has seen the world. Yet, the initial excitement of newness disappears one day, quietly and unnoticeably, into simply being of service and use. Perhaps this is what the advertisers wanted to begin with.

Some books will forever remain in my head and heart, silently calling me from their shelves to have a visit, reconnect, and spend some time together. Other books, despite being favourite in the past, have faded into oblivion. Same with music.

I love my work, whether it is with individual clients, education and facilitation, or the larger scope organizational development stuff. This part of my life has been getting better and better every year over the past few years, yet I have no idea what could change tomorrow. I just trust that something else will emerge, should it all disappear - or should my focus shift. It did happen before.

“The only real question is not one of winning or losing, but of experiencing life with an ever-increasing depth." - David Whyte

I suspect I too will not live forever. At least not in this current form.

The Power of Deep and Active Listening

Today’s Reflection is about a seemingly easy and natural-to-us all act. Or maybe not that easy.

I recently made an important, and perhaps life-changing, discovery. My ears are not the same, in their shape. Yes. Who knew. I realized it because one of the two earphones, the left one, of my newly-acquired iPhone, keeps falling out periodically, when I hike or cycle while listening to podcasts of CBC. The earpieces are clearly identical, so it must be something with my ears. Given that it also falls out when I am listening to music or other podcasts means it has nothing to do specifically with CBC either.

It is interesting to notice how the sound travels through my head when that happens. When both ear pieces sit firmly where their designers intended them to be, I am hearing the sounds (and music) somewhere in the center of my head, closer to the seventh chakra. It is as though the sound is everywhere, giving me a fuller, richer experience. I know that professional musicians will call it “stereo,” yet I am not one of them.

However, when the different shape of my left ear doesn’t hold the ear piece any more, the experience of listening changes. The sound somehow becomes incomplete, partial, and I am feeling almost imbalanced inside, as though I disconnect from the sounds coming to me. I find it being an interesting metaphor for listening.

Oftentimes, presence with deep and active listening creates magic. Like the magic of binaural beats, where a new wave frequency emerges in our brain, creating a variety of experiences which have not existed there before. When we are really present with another, listening deeply and actively, holding space for the speaker to bring themselves fully, something magical happens as well. It goes beyond stereo.

“Listening is about closing the mouth and opening our heart.”

These metaphors lead me to the theme of listening, of the deep, active, and compassionate kind. The fact that I am currently also teaching this topic makes life even more interesting, because – how does one teach “deep listening?” Or active? Or compassionate? How does one create the learning experiences which will bring forward the learning of such a crucial theme. It is crucial to our human interactions and the impact these can create for another. Perhaps the following story, Beyond Words, from Ode Magazine, shows the true power deep active listening holds.

“Listening is a magnetic and strange thing, a creative force. When we really listen to people there is an alternating current, and this recharges us so that we never get tired of each other. We are constantly being re-created.” - Brenda Ueland

A class on deep listening is coming up, soon. I intend to open it with the following poem, and we shall see how the rest of it unfolds.

A Poem About Listening
Please, just listen.
When I ask you to listen to me,
and you start giving advice,
you have not done what I asked.
When I ask you to listen to me
and you begin to tell me why I shouldn’t feel that way,
you are trampling on my feelings.
When I ask you to listen to me,
and you feel you have to do something to solve my problem,
you have failed me, strange as that may seem.
Listen!
All I asked was that you listen,
not talk, or do...
just hear.
Advice is cheap:
twenty-five cents will get you both
dear Abby and Billy Graham in the same newspaper,
and I can do that myself.
I’m not helpless.
Maybe discouraged and faltering,
but not helpless.
When you do something for me that I can,
and need to do for myself,
you contribute to my fear and inadequacy.
But when you accept,
as a simple fact,
that I do feel no matter how irrational,
then I can quit trying to convince you
and get about the business of understanding
what’s behind this irrational feeling.
And, when that’s clear,
the answers are obvious
and I don’t need advice.
Irrational feelings make sense
when we understand what’s behind them.
Please listen and just hear me,
and if you want to talk wait a minute for your turn,
and I’ll listen to you.
- Ray Houghton

A sunny week to you all, inside and out.

Giving Way to Passion

Today’s Reflection is about year passed, duality, and passion. A rich combination indeed.

2010 has ended and this one started, and even though the transition was smooth, contemplative, and loving for me, it feels as though life is escalating again. 2011 is going to be a beautiful year; I know it from my own senses, intentions, and what the cards and the stars seem to have ready for me.

The picture, however is bigger than just me. And, as it is often the case, is convoluted, filled with paradoxes of duality, and interdependent forces dancing together cheek to cheek. As the words of the “La Maza” song, by Mercedes Sosa, go, “Que cosa fuera la maza sin cantera” which translates into “What would be the mallet without quarry (to cut out stone).” More on this song a tad later.

I stumbled upon a beautiful summary of the year in Yes! Magazine, which is always a fabulous and inspiring magazine to have handy. Their year in review talks about the 10 most hopeful stories, and is here: http://ow.ly/3Fzxw . It ends with this:

“The turbulence of our lives is increasing, spurred by the crises in the economy and the environment, growing inequality and debt, military overreach, deferred peacetime investments, and species extinctions. Turbulent times are also times when rigid belief systems and institutions are shaken, and change is more possible. Not automatic, and definitely not easy, but possible. The question of our time is how we use these openings to work for a better world for all life.” - Sarah van Gelder

Heather and Greg left to Guatemala this morning, driving from Vancouver because they didn’t want to experience all the hassle of taking Tika, their dog, on a series of flights. A couple of weeks ago, a group of friends got together in a local Indian restaurant for a farewell dinner for them. There were a few musicians, and at some point two of them got up and sang a series of mostly-Spanish songs. A guitar and a voice.

There was this one song in particular, expressed with incredible passion and voice that penetrated deep into the cells of my whole body. When I approached the singer later, to compliment him on the performance and ask for the song title, he told me that it was "La Maza" by Silvio Rodriguez. And off I go looking for the song, finding the many performances of it by various artists. Somehow, passion is also much better expressed in Spanish.

The original was performed by Silvio Rodriguez (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iv976UhE7Y8). There is a beautiful performance by Mercedes Sosa, with or without Shakira (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLWiFivak1c), and another one by Andrea Parodi (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gyI8972IuQY).

“It's the soul's duty to be loyal to its own desires. It must abandon itself to its master passion.” - Rebecca West

Passion. The depth of one's soul. Vibration of power, of aliveness, of wild untamed energy, unleashing itself into the world. Passion that transcends languages, boundaries, logic, and borders. Music that can only be felt in a language I don’t fully understand, heard in full volume and no less. Life that is vibrant, burning, alive, untamed, with wild abandon and energy that sets the world on fire.

This is a delicious way to start a whole new year.

Remembering to Appreciate

Today’s Reflection is about Appreciating What Is


I am spending the Christmas holidays with dear friends on Cortes Island, which is a combination of a drive and 3 ferries north of Vancouver. A journey of about 7-8 hours, which is absolutely worth it. While I have been many times on Cortes in the summertime, winter is different. The pace of life is much slower on the island, tourist season is over, and the focus is on individual, as well as communal, activities. My friends are renting a beautiful little place on the southern tip of the South Point of the island, on top of a mountain with stunning views of the area. Peace, silence, solitude, food, laughter, conversations about anything and everything, and two playing dogs are wonderful ingredients for a time of celebration, connection, and conversations into the night around a wood-burning fireplace.

"While history is inscribed with the names of famous leaders, it is not primarily through the actions of individuals that we have survived to this time, but rather through the actions of communities. We are social animals, and only through cooperation and communication have we been able to survive the wars, famines, pogroms, plagues, and natural disasters that beset us. Community is our basic strategy of survival and evolution." - Elizabeth Roberts & Elias Amidon

Except for the weather. The first few days were wild and stormy - in any "regular" place. On top of a mountain, the winds are howling, sounding extremely angry with us humans, to the point of us having a hard time sleeping at nights. The windows facing the wind are shaking from its power, and water seeps through the cracks between the windows, doors, and walls.

And then the electricity goes out. Because the house we are in gets its supply of water pumped from a well, it means we don't have water. We also don't have internet connection, except for - luckily - through my phone. The fridge is not working either, and we are moving the more perishable food closer to the outdoors. We also can't watch movies (the power went out just as we started with the first one). Even if we wanted to, we could not get off the island, because the ferries were not operating due to this extreme weather. We do have a gas stove, and so can make tea and some food, we have candles for light, and we have a wood-burning fireplace to warm up the house (some rooms better than others). And I have Tobi, who, cuddled to me at night, keeps the bed warm.

Life becomes a lot more basic for us, almost to the point of primal. It is interesting to think that all of our comforts and conveniences of the modern life are very recent, emerging into existence and our use perhaps during the last 300 or 400 years. For millennia prior to it, life was a lot more basic and aligned to the world around us. And we humans made it so far.

Sitting in this little and cozy house, by the fireplace, while the weather is raging outside, feels like being in a cocoon. The feeling of togetherness is much stronger, and it feels more comfortable knowing that we are not alone. This, perhaps, is one of the secrets of the human survivals, togetherness. Being able to both experience and appreciate the situation and its gifts is currently my biggest and most important holiday blessing to take home.

"The most important things in life aren't things." - Einstein (I think)

A sunny week to you all, inside and out.

Combining Heart and Head

Today’s Reflection is about charity and donations. Sort of.


Wilford organized a very unique event about a year ago. He brought together a group of activists and business figures, together with a diverse group of indigenous tribal leaders, to a retreat for a dialogue about our common future.


There was a moment when he told a woman, who represented a tribe of Hawaiian people, that the only condition is that they take an equal part and full and equal partnership role, both in the dialogue, and in the emerging actions afterwards. Her reply surprised him. First, she acknowledged the fact that it was the first time a white person came to them with an offer of equals, and then said that her Hawaiian people are not yet ready for this type of partnership. The reason, she said, was that for many years they lived on the charity givings of white people, and have forgotten their independence. “My people need time,” she said, “to be able to step out of this mentality.”


“It is by not always thinking of yourself that you might someday be happy. Until you make room in your life for someone as important to you as yourself, you will always be lonely and searching and lost.” - Richard Bach


Let’s leave the principle of giving to charity for some other time, as there are at least two possible schools of thought about it. One says that it is a fair and moral thing to do, to give to others in stronger need than us. The other thought is that the only thing it creates is more dependency, disempowerment, and actually exacerbates the problem to begin with, enabling those on the receiving end to continue maintaining their status-quo of dependency.


The fact is that when we give to another, we not only come with the intentions of help, support, and morality, but we also get to feel good about ourselves. That we are kind, considerate, and caring enough to share some of what we have with those possibly less privileged. This is a good thing. Yet, the real question is how do we give, and to who. How do we come from the heart, yet remember the head as well?


This whole Reflection started when I received the following fascinating statistics, listing some of the charity organizations, and what happens there “behind the scenes.” In other words, when you donate to charity, where does your money go? How much of each of the dollar you donate actually goes to those in need, and what do the top people in these organizations, Presidents/CEOs/Commissioners, get paid (from your money)?


“There is no calamity greater than lavish desires.
There is no greater guilt than discontentment.
And there is no greater disaster than greed.”
- Lao-Tzu


The worst offender was, yet again, for the 11th year in a row, the CEO of UNICEF, who receives $1,200,000 per year (plus a Rolls Royce for his exclusive use wherever he goes, and an expense account that is rumoured to be well over $150,000). Only pennies from the actual donations goes to the UNICEF cause (less than $0.14 per dollar of income).


The second worst offender this year is Marsha J. Evans, President and CEO of the American Red Cross, for her salary for the year ending in 2009 was $651,957 plus expenses. Enjoys 6 weeks fully paid holidays including all related expenses during the holiday trip for her and her husband and kids. Including 100% fully paid health & dental plan for her and her family, for life. This means out of every dollar they bring in, about $0.39 goes to related charity causes.


The third worst offender was again for the 7th time was, Brian Gallagher, President of the United Way, who receives a $375,000 base salary (U.S. funds), plus so many numerous expense benefits it's hard to keep track as to what it is all worth. Some of it includes a fully paid lifetime membership for 2 golf courses (1 in Canada, and 1 in the US), 2 luxury vehicles, a yacht club membership, 3 major company gold credit cards for his personal expenses, and so on. This equates to about $0.51 per dollar of income goes to charity causes.


Fourth worst offender who was also again in the fourth spot, for every year since this information has been made available from the start (1998) is amazingly yet again, World Vision President (Canada), who receives $300,000 base salary (plus a home valued in the $700,000 - $800,000 dollar value range, completely furnished, completely paid all housing expenses, including taxes, water/sewer, telephone/fax, HD/high speed cable, weekly maid service and pool/yard maintenance, fully paid private schooling for his children, upscale automobile and an $55,000 personal expense account for clothing/food, with a $125,000 business expense account). Get this, because it is a "religious based" charity, it pays little to no taxes, can receive government assistance and does not have to declare were the money goes. Only about $0.52 of earned income per dollar is available for charity causes.


Of the sixty some odd "charities" that were looked at [by the group who compiled this statistics], the lowest paid (President/CEO/Commissioner) was heading up a charity group right here in Canada. It is none other than the Salvation Army's Commissioner Todd Bassett, who receives a salary of only $13,000 per year (plus housing) for managing this $2 Billion dollar organization. Which means about $0.93 per dollar earned, is readily available and goes back out to local charity causes.


And then there is Kiva (http://www.kiva.org), that supports many local initiatives, following the micro-lending model of Muhammad Yunus. The fact there is that the whole $25 that you lend (or in multiples of this amount), goes to the recipient – whether a farmer in Africa, a cooperative in Latin America, or someone else in some other part of the so-called developing world, trying to improve their life. And it is not a charity donation, but a loan, which means it comes back to you and you can re-loan it to someone else. After 27 loans and re-loans, not even one defaulted for me.


“One of the weaknesses of our age is our apparent inability to distinguish our need from our greed.” - anonymous


Ultimately, it is not about “to give or not to give.” Definitely “to give,” only better and smarter. Every dollar does make an impact and a difference. The only question is where, how, and to who.


A sunny week to you all, inside and out.

Big Brother in the 21st Century

Today’s Reflection is about Big Brothers, of the Orwell kind.

My parents and I left Russia, or Soviet Union, as it was called then, in 1974. We left pretty much everything there, including many dear friends. Quite a few people chose to severe all contact with us, once they found out that we are leaving to Israel. Being friends with what was known then as a “foreign element” was not something that was considered a good thing by the Soviet authorities.

Yet, there were a few friends who wanted us to remain in contact. They asked us to write to them, once we arrive and settle in Israel. I remember one man in particular; “Uncle Alex” I called him, even though there was no blood connection between us. He was an older man, and one that spent many summers and winters with us in the wilderness, skiing, gathering berries, picking mushrooms, or camping and telling stories by the fire. “I am not afraid of them,” he would tell us. “I have no family, no children, nothing. What can they do to me anyway?” He was one of the few people who wanted us to stay in contact and write.

Yet, we never did.


“Freedom is actually a bigger game than power. Power is about that you can control. Freedom is about what you can unleash.” - Harriet Rubin


Years later, I understood why we never wrote. All the mail in and out of the Soviet Union was opened and censored, and my parents decided to not even risk getting any of their old friends in trouble, causing them to be looked at “unfavorably” because of letters from Israel, the “enemy of the Russian state.”

Fast forward to present time. The Big Brother might be a story from 1984, yet it is alive and well today, cleverly disguised in a more modern outfit. Out of all places, in a democratic and “modern” country like Canada, where the following two articles just recently crossed my path.

The first one is titled “U.S. has right to Canadians' info.” Apparently, Canadian Public Safety Minister Vic Toews defended federal legislation Tuesday that would pave the way to providing the U.S. with personal information about Canadians flying over that country, even if these Canadians are not even touching ground in the US. Obviously, Canadians do not have any legal rights any more to our privacy information, and our government is not going to protect it. Full story here: http://bit.ly/8XRJY6 .

The other story is called “New Big Brother Laws Would Reshape Canada's Internet.” In it, the Canadian government tabled its latest proposal with three bills that received only limited attention despite their potential to fundamentally reshape the Internet in Canada. The bills contain a three-pronged approach focused on information disclosure, mandated surveillance technologies, and new police powers. Full story here: http://bit.ly/cseNaq .

The first prong mandates the disclosure of Internet provider customer information without court oversight (English: we will get a LOT of your personal information whenever we want, without any legal obstacles).

The second prong requires Internet providers to dramatically re-work their networks to allow for real-time surveillance. In English, these are very expensive upgrades, which means many of the smaller and independent providers might find themselves out of business. Welcome to the world of fairness and equal opportunities to all.

The third prong creates new police powers designed to obtain access to the surveillance data. These include new transmission data warrants that would grant real-time access to all the information generated during the creation, transmission or reception of a communication including the type, direction, time, duration, origin, destination or termination of the communication. Oh, and by the way – if (or when, your choice of words) such surveillance will be occurring against you, the Internet providers would also be prohibited from disclosing the fact that you have been subject to surveillance or information disclosures.

“We have given away far too many freedoms in order to be free. Now it's time to take some back.” - John Le Carre

I don’t know about you, but for me, it is a moment of a deja-vu, 36 years later, in a seemingly democratic country.

A sunny week to you all, inside and out.

Life According to Four Basic Laws

Today’s Reflection is about a different set of laws to guide one through life.

I think we live a very complicated life these days, though perhaps not necessarily by choice. There are rules, laws, regulations, permits, by-laws, stop signs, and many more visible and invisible chains that supposedly enforce a proper, civilized, and respectful behaviour from us all. Order. Peace. Security. In theory, it works. Or, at least, this is what we are being told, which somehow does not explain the court houses and the prisons being filled and backlogged.

“Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.” - Einstein


A thin veil of illusion, that is getting thinner. I wonder whether we have overcomplicated our society(ies?), and think about ways it can be made simple, logical, sustainable (as in “lasting for many generations into the future”), kind, and one that actually works for all. Now, “all” has a very broad meaning, way beyond “some of the more privileged” people. Or even just “all people.” What about other, non-human beings, who are “beings” nonetheless?

This thought was highlighted for me, when I came across what is known as the Four Laws of Ecology:

1) Everything is connected to everything else.
2) Everything must go somewhere.
3) Nature knows best.
4) There is no such thing as a free lunch.

Looking at the first Law, I realize that making decisions takes a whole new, much broader dimension when thinking about consequences. It shifts my focus from a very narrow and immediate view, into a much wider angle, expanding my awareness to include a lot more than what I normally think about. One of the exercises I often do with students, when teaching this idea, is an invitation to analyze all the factors that might impact the quality of a dinner with a friend in a restaurant. The immediate ones are obvious – table setup, light, waiter/waitress, people in nearby tables. But that’s not all; when we expand the view and step into the full(er) picture of Law #1, we see that the mood of the chef, the whole neighbourhood, the source of food – all become factors, if we but think about it.

“We are caught in an escapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.” - Martin Luther King, “Letter from the Birmingham Jail”


The second Law states that there is no such thing as “away.” Simple.

The third Law tells us that change can actually be very easy, because we don’t need to reinvent any of the wheels. Mother Nature has been experimenting for about 3.8 billion years, which is a very long time, and knows what works and what does not. We only need to take a look, and then we will know how velcro works, how to paint buildings with non-toxic paint that cleans itself in the rain, how to create permanent adhesive with no toxins stronger than any crazy glue, or efficient propellers, or protein fibers that are stronger than steel cables, or any of the other myriad ideas and solutions that we keep looking for, not realizing that they exist all around us.

“Until man creates a blade of grass, he can only dream of being the master of the Universe.” - Einstein


And the last Law... well, there is always a consequence. To every thought, to every action, to every decision we make. Give the first three, we’d better think twice next time we are about to do something and think we don’t have the time to think about the ripple effects.

Perhaps a little story to end this Reflection...

In a village at the foot of the Himalayas lived a wise old man.  His advice was sought by people from miles around.

A group of boys decided one day that they would make fun of him.  They would bring a bird, hidden behind the back of one of the boys.  The boy would ask if the bird was alive or dead.  If the old man said alive, the boy would crush it to death.  If he said dead, the boy would release the bird.

So, one day, they approached the old man.  One boy came forward and asked, "What do I have in my hand?"  "A bird." "Is it alive or dead?"  The old man looked up slowly and said, "It is in your hands."


A sunny week to you all, inside and out.

Right Livelihood

Today’s Reflection is about a stone, of a particular kind.


The words are somehow not coming.

It has been almost a week since I came back from a 2-week adventure in Europe, signifying the end of the summer for me. A few days in Amsterdam with a friend, then a week with my parents in Riga, Latvia, and then back to Amsterdam for a conference of a wonderful and inspiring gathering of the Applied Improv Network.

Many beautiful moments and experiences, yet the one that I am currently sitting with, is an image and a picture of a stone. A gravestone.

Every person needs to get a diagnosis, at least once in their lives, that they are going to die, and that there is nothing they can do about it.” - Joel Solomon
 
Both my father and I were born in Riga, a long time ago and at a very young age, though not at the same time. We all left Russia in 1974, and up until a few weeks ago, have not been back. Even though Latvia is not Russia any more, it still is for us. Russian is still prevalent, both the language and the culture. I had very few memories of my years there, while my parents remembered a lot more – places, areas, and even some words. Riga is beautiful, with the charm of the old architecture blended with the modern influences of the West. It is an almost-confusing time travel journey, whereby one is not sure as to whether the time machine is functioning properly.

One day we visited the two different cemeteries where my grandparents are buried. Surprisingly, this was one of the parts I remembered, however vaguely. We found the gravestone of my grandfather, on my father’s side, put some flowers, and stood at the green and peaceful cemetery which looked like a forest, with a beautiful Fall sun coming through the trees.

See, I am named after him, and the experience I am trying to find the words for is looking at a gravestone with my name on it.

People are not really afraid of dying; they are afraid of not ever having lived, not ever having deeply considered their life's purpose, and not ever having stepped into that purpose and at least tried to make a difference in this world. - Joseph Jaworski


Such an image is a good opportunity to question my Right Livelihood. In a course on Creativity and Right Livelihood I currently teach at Bainbridge Graduate Institute (www.bgi.edu), we describe that we borrowed the concept from Buddhism, where “right livelihood” means work that is compatible with one’s continued spiritual development. In the context of the course, as well as my own musings here, it is a shorthand for “making a living in an ethical way that expresses who you are, fits with your preferences and passions, and serves others and the planet.” It means vocation that brings out your joy and gives your life deeper meaning. Right Livelihood is not only about what you do, but also how you do it and who you are being in your work. Finding your right livelihood requires a process of making on-going choices about your relationship with work, your vocation, your calling.

For the past 13 years or so, this has been my learning journey, a source of many moments of inspiration, frustration, and everything in-between. I see my life as aligned to the calling and to what I am meant to do here, with a deep sense of meaning, fulfillment, and purpose that are present on an ongoing basis. Still, because everything always happens for a reason, I am finding myself being curious. What’s next? What’s behind the visible? Is that it? What’s the next thing that wants to choose me and ask me to follow the call?

Thank you Grandpa Simon. Perhaps the words came after all.

And the album of all the photos from the trip, should it be of interest, is here: http://bit.ly/a3tEVx

A sunny week to you all, inside and out.

Seven years. A lifetime.

Today’s Reflection is about the last seven years of my life, and a precious four-legged companion walking beside me.

Tobi and I went on a long hike yesterday, venturing deep into the woods. While it was a familiar route for us, in its first part, I decided to go further than we have ever gone before. Partially, I wanted a longer hike. Another reason was that I craved being in the wilderness, in solitude, away from civilization; because the weather (and the schedule) didn’t cooperate for a longer camping trip, a day-long adventure was second best.

After a couple of hours, we were going through a beautiful forest, being completely on our own. Silence and the sounds of Nature were all I heard. Until we stumbled upon some “company” - in a form of a black bear, less than 10 meters off the trail. As Tobi usually runs ahead, he saw the bear first, and froze. They kept staring at each other as I came closer. At the same time I called Tobi back, he started barking at the bear. Luckily, the bear just took off, moving semi-casually into the woods, while I was holding Tobi and watching the bear continue on his way.

“Listening to find the dance that is possible within a relationship is not simply a matter of hope or desire. It is a journey of a lifetime.” - Suzanne Clothier

He is funny, this Tobi of mine. There will be moments when he will be scared of a beam of light in the sky, or night city lights coming through the window. Yet, he will bark at a bear, or attack two pairs of yellow eyes, standing quite tall above the ground, when I shone my flashlight into the darkness of the forest (deer and not a cougar). This process of knowing him, during these past seven years, has been a fascinating journey of discovery. About him, and also about myself.

Suzanne Clothier, in her masterpiece of a book, “Bones would rain from the sky,” was right when she said that “to travel in a company of animals is to walk with angels, guides, guardians, jesters, shadows, and mirrors.” Without judgment or agendas, with endless patience and an amazing capacity for forgiveness (which is clearly needed when living with me), Tobi is the ideal guide I obviously needed to walk with me along the path of this phase of my life. While we might not always get what we want, we always get exactly what we need. Tobi is that for me, and has been for the past seven years. His birthday was on Friday, September 10, and so this Reflection is for you. Both my own thoughts, and some of what resonates with me from Suzanne’s book.

“What is possible between a human and an animal is possible only within a relationship.” - Suzanne Clothier

I am lucky that Tobi is so easily forgiving. He never lies; I just don’t always listen, because I think I know better what he needs or wants. Learning to accept it has been a hard lesson, yet one that inevitably builds trust for both of us. And my listening skills. At the beginning of our time together, I wanted recipes. How and when to feed him. How to train. How to play with. Everything. It took me a while (because I am, apparently, not the fastest learner) to realize that with Tobi – as everywhere else in life really – there are no recipes and shortcuts to any place worth going. It is a learning process, day by day, moment by moment, of being present, trusting, listening, and accepting the fact that I can learn more, and from, my fluffy companion. “What can I learn from you?” is a profound lesson, and when we can ask it in the presence of “another” being, human or not, awareness shifts and new worlds open up. Such question reminds us that we are all students of life, and teachers come in many different forms, shapes, and sizes.

Why is understanding another so difficult at times? Often? Always? I think I am beginning to realize that the real, true listening really does not come from the head. It starts there, perhaps, with the intention of the act. Yet, it very quickly shifts into the realm of the heart, and perhaps the soul as well, the realm where “know” shifts into “knowing” as a journey that does not assume anything about the present moment other than what is in front of me and what is being conveyed. Such attention and listening, as an active and engaged process, is also something I have failed many times. Luckily for me, Tobi is very patient. “As forgiving as a dog” is a new phrase that I just stumbled upon in this book, which I somehow have not seen till this moment – even though I have read the book many times before. Another lesson I hope I will be able to learn. Some day.

“A life lived in relationship with an animal has the power to make us both fully human and more fully humane. And this spills over, as a fullness of soul inevitably does, to other relationships, weaving its magic across our entire lives.” - Suzanne Clothier

I hope so, Tobi. I really do.

For those of you who have not seen Tobi, here is a selected visual collection of moments:
http://picasaweb.google.com/FlyingBarney/Tobi#
 

 

A River of Life

Today’s Reflection is about an activity, about a way of looking at one’s life, and perhaps also about our collective future. 

Who are you? Who is anybody really? How do we know an answer to such a tricky and seemingly impossible question?

A River of Life is a metaphor I recently used, in an introduction activity with a group of new students coming to Bainbridge Graduate Institute (www.bgi.edu). While I have used this activity many times in the past, I described it differently this time; different words came out as the way to articulate one’s life journey. Furthermore, if we are a sum total of our experiences, then such a process provides a glimpse into who a person is. This activity, and subsequent conversations, brought a lot more thoughts with it.

“The Universe operates on a basic principle of economics: everything has its cost. We pay to create our future, we pay for the mistakes of the past. We pay for every change we make... And we pay just as dearly if we refuse to change.”

I can look at my own life as a river, with periods of quiet, gentle, and peaceful water, running its course downstream. That river also has rapids, big and small, and periods of turbulent white water, rocks, and stormy weather. The river is deafening, vibrant (almost violent perhaps), and stretches to the extreme the skills – and luck – of one going down in these turbulent white waters.

Using this metaphor to one’s life, and looking at the significant moments of growth and learning for me, I know that the quiet and gentle parts are both pleasant and valuable in one’s life. This is where I get to relax, observe the view, rest, and integrate the learning from overcoming the last set of rapids. Yet, this is not where the real growth and transformation occurs. For that, we need rapids in our river. Rapids that will force us to the extreme, challenge every aspect and part of us, and stretch us to our full capacity. Sometimes, beyond. I know that this is how my life has been flowing, as this River of Life. And, I know that my most valuable learning moments, ones that I remember to this day, came from those seemingly impassable rapids. Perhaps it is indeed a “no pain, no gain” way of the River of Life.
 
“After you have exhausted what there is in business, politics, conviviality, and so on -- have found that none of these finally satisfy, or permanently wear -- what remains? Nature remains.” - Walt Whitman
When I think about expanding the scope, this is where things get both scary and interesting. What if the same metaphor applies to us all, collectively, as a human species? Our human river of collective lives, our history through time.

We have been crossing more and more rapids, that seem to become bigger and more turbulent. From 9/11, to Katrina, to BP oil spill, to many others that I am forgetting right now. We humans seem to go through the rapids, shift our course and behaviour for a while, and then forget. Life takes over, and we go back to our more-of-the-same behaviour, forgetting the lessons, the learning, and the implications of not correcting our course. And the cycle repeats itself, only the rapids are becoming bigger, stronger, more turbulent and painful. And we still don’t learn, and keep heading down the same direction. All the environmental, social, and ecological degradation and injustice around us these days is a loud testament to the fact that we have not yet changed our ways.

Can we learn from the quiet gentle flow, in time, before we reach the next impassable rapids?

A sunny week to you all, inside and out.

The Burning Flame

Today’s Reflection is about the Summer Gathering event I just attended at Hollyhock. Though I have a sense of incomplete thoughts, because the experience has not yet fully settled within me. And probably won’t, any time soon...

Summer Gathering is an event that has been running at Hollyhock for the past 17 years. Perhaps 25. A long time. The premise is simple. Most conferences are not that interesting, and the really juicy stuff happens during the more personal interactions, hallways, celebrations, and party time. This is how the event is structured and planned, to be “A Better Party.” Throw in a location like Hollyhock (http://www.hollyhock.ca/), a group of incredibly diverse and passionate activists, change agents, and artists, and it becomes a recipe for a potent and magical time.

The theme was Decisive Decade. Undoubtedly, this is what we are facing in our immediate future. All of us. Whether we want it or not.


“The Universe operates on a basic principle of economics: everything has its cost. We pay to create our future, we pay for the mistakes of the past. We pay for every change we make... And we pay just as dearly if we refuse to change." - Brian Herbert & Kevin Anderson, “Dune: House Harkonnen”

Because of the richness of the experience, and the variety of activities, conversations, presentations, small group sessions, tears and pain, laughter and inspiration, I am still digesting everything that occurred and the implications. It might continue for a while longer; in the meantime, some of the key moments that stand out. Pieces of the puzzle that combine into a rich tapestry of the human spirit, in its best and worst.

Talking with Samantha, the Executive Director of Lumana (http://www.lumana.org/), and hearing the passion in this 20-something woman who is dedicated to empowering villagers in Africa, through education and entrepreneurship skills. After such a conversation, I am filled with hope for the future, seeing this new generation of young activists, deeply committed to making a difference in our world. Also slightly envious, thinking about how clueless I was when I was her age – about anything of real meaning and value.

Or Project Somos (http://projectsomos.com/), ran by Heather and Greg from Vancouver, whom I met at the Summer Gathering of last year. They are establishing a village for abandoned and orphaned children in Guatemala, progressing with passion, vision, and commitment.

Another fascinating story came from Susan and her Sound Essence Project (http://soundessenceproject.org/), with focus on Mongolia. Her work there is about preserving and documenting the disappearing cultures and tribes; the story of how she even got there is absolutely stunning. “Being led” barely comes close.

No shortage of beautiful people who are engaged in making a real difference.


“Freedom is an elusive concept. Some men hold themselves prisoner even when they have the power to do as they please and go where they choose, while others are free in their hearts, even as shackles restrain them.” - Brian Herbert & Kevin Anderson, “Dune: House Harkonnen”

Yet, there is always another side to the coin of human accomplishments. It is not a pretty one. This time, the focus seemed to gravitate to oil and plastic. It was highlighted during one of the sessions, where Chris Jordan (http://chrisjordan.com) talked about his second Journey to Midway (http://www.midwayjourney.com/) and the heart-breaking images of dead albatross birds, filled with plastic they mistake for fish in the ocean. Manuel Maqueda (http://manuelmaqueda.com/), who is now a leading world expert on plastic pollution (http://plasticpollutioncoalition.org/), followed with a brief overview of plastic (“Plastic is forever,” “None of us really recycles, because putting things into different bins is NOT recycling” and “The only way to deal with plastic now, instead of ‘reuse, reduce, recycle’ is ‘Refuse’”). Then, images of the BP oil spill by Kris Krug (http://www.kriskrug.com/), and eventually a story by Anita Burke, comparing this spill to what happened during the Exxon-Valdez spill, on which she worked directly at the time. Her story about the supposedly-harmless oil dispersant that is being dumped into the water of the Gulf of Mexico and how they were told the same thing during the Exxon oil spill still sends chills through my bones (“They told us that it is a harmless chemical. What a joke! Out of the team I worked with then, I am the only one left alive”).

5 days of such deep and rich fluctuations, between pain and joy, sadness and inspiration, hopelessness and hope. No wonder I am still recovering.


Excerpts from “The Invitation” by Oriah Mountain Dreamer 

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, and if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide or fade it or fix it.

It doesn't interest me to know where you live, or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else fails away.


The question of what sustains people from the inside, when facing such deep pain and despair, and how to keep going, has been on my mind for some time now. While I might not have The Answer, it is somehow less important to even have one. I am grateful for the experience of being with people, who face the same pains, yet still get up in the morning and marching on.

Onward. There really is no other way.


A sunny week to you all, inside and out.

Between two stories

Today’s Reflection is about integrating a duality of a life. Definitely mine. Perhaps yours too.

I don’t have children of my own, which is a life choice of a long time ago. However, some of my friends do. This begs an interesting question, along the lines of “What kind of a world am I leaving for my friends’ kids, whom I love dearly?” A question that each person needs to ask themselves these days, given the state of our world.
 

If I am not for myself, who is for me?

If I am only for myself, what am I?
And if not now, when?

- Hillel

The angle I am thinking about right now is the loss of the sense of the sacredness of our universe. It shows when economists tell us that a violent plundering of the Earth would better our existence. It shows when philosophical realists telling us that any appreciation of the mystical and mysterious dimensions of Nature is a sentimental romanticism. And it shows when politicians tell us that the way to control power in the world is by conquering our own territory and then exploit the territories of others.

The results of these stories leads us to where we find ourselves today, with rapidly declining forests, disappearing salmon (earlier today, a Sto:lo First Nation guide in Mission told us that the salmon levels in the Fraser river is about 3-5% of what it used to be perhaps 10 years ago!), pollution, toxins everywhere in and around us, loss of precious tribal ancient knowledge (tribal cultures and many languages are disappearing faster than any species on the planet), and many other disasters, challenges, and problems we are facing these days. The list is, unfortunately, endless.

And then there is the other side, the growing awareness and recognition that we humans are but a subsystem of the Earth system and that our first obligation in any phase of our human lives is to preserve the integral functioning of the world we depend on. This new story allows many to understand how every element of the universe is integral with every other member of the universe community. Many people and organization are working endlessly and patiently, to bring this new story into existence.


It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,
it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness,
it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity,
it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness,
it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair,
we had everything before us, we had nothing before us,
we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way...
  - Charles Dickens


 
And I find myself fluctuating between these two types of stories. On some days, excitement within me is palpable and I am engaged and committed, drawing my inspiration both from within, and from seeing and hearing of others who do incredible work. On these days, I feel like I can move mountains, like there are no obstacles, like we are “almost there,” and the sun – inner and outer – is bright and warm.

And then there are other days. The days of the other stories. The days I am present to lack of hope, to injustice, corruption, corporate or political greed (yet again and again), and a nagging thought of the “what’s the point?” flavour. In these days, my heart is heavy, the tears salty, the mountains block the sun, and the future is foggy; perhaps even non-existent at all.

Perhaps this is the work of our lifetime. Learning to reconcile these two types of stories, this duality, while still doing what’s needed to be done so that the children of today will have a tomorrow. And the day after.


A sunny week to you all, inside and out.