the fear and loathing decade....

For some reason, I completely missed the fact that we are about to hit a New Years milestone.  It took being surrounded by year end lists, when i realized a whole decade had scampered by.  Could that be?  Has it really been 10 years since we all fretted over a massive Y2K meltdown that was supposed to trample over the wires and ways of computer technology?  I guess so.  Gee, I still had a little one in diapers back then, and now he's out of my arms, having travelled to Costa Rica to attend a month long international village for 11 and 12 year olds!  I also had a little girl who rarely left my side and clung to me like a baby Koala.  Now, she's juggling work and school and her network of friends. 

I've been driving backwards since I learned that we're about to stamp this decade as complete, allowing the events which will define it to filter up.  And the more I thought about it, the more I could see how easily this collection of 10 years could easily be labelled "the fear and loathing decade......"  Events beyond our control, were foisted upon us and thrown into our lexicon and lives so radically that we are still reeling and dealing with them, the most obvious being the events of September 11, 2001.   Though terrorism was not a new concept, it truly became a personalized one as the fear factor ratcheded up to hyperventilation mode.  All of a sudden, it felt like we plummeted into a global cat and mouse, hide and seek game with evil.   We watched our leaders puff out their chests and make pronouncements about catching Bin Laden and his boys...... to eradicate Islamic fundamentalism, to target underground cells of disenfranchised Muslims through brute force. 

Bin Laden still rules the game of hide and seek. 

We have grown in awareness and weariness as the decade tick tocked away.  Afghanistan, Iraq, bombings in Indonesia, Bali, Spain, London, weapons of mass destruction were never ever found.  War children, extreme poverty, natural disasters where thousands perished despite the ability to prevent it through early detection.  Our anger increased as we learned of serious hot spots around the globe where violence and brutality against other religions, children and women. Patriotism was used shamefully to guilt many who expressed their opinions against the violent retaliatons.  Politicians continued to stumble and sputter while we became more aware of the smoke and mirrors they held up.

Sadly, Islamic terrorism reared its head again on Christmas day sending the airline industry into a tailspin.  Airports are full of weary angry people desparately trying to get on a plane to seek escape.  Flying will never, ever be the same again.  Our sense of safety will never be the same again. 

SARS, Swine, Bird......FLU!!!!  We became paralyzingly fearful of the pandemics which reared their gut wrenching illnesses which spread as fast as a sneeze in flight. Warnings became the order of the day.  Toronto became a pariah.  It took years for that city to regain its reputation as a tourist town.  We take this fear and loathing issue as well into the next decade, though many of us are now innoculated.  For the time being. Don't you wish you owned stocks in hand sanitizer and face mask making companies?

Politics has also added to the brewing fear and loathing felt in the pits of our collective guts. Has any politician maintained their full integrity?  Leadership tanked globally.  Lets hope it was just a bad gene pool??

Walls went up........a barbed wire prison the size of a city was the "answer" to an eternal war of hatred.  Piracy off the coast of Somalia.  AIDS killed.  Warlords maimed. We became consumed by raging talking heads........on the left and on the right who believe in their own brilliance as they rant on and on and on throughout the mainstream media and in our newer forms of sharing news and editorials.  Most of the best known blogs are lightening rods for nasty loathing and skin crawling opinions.  Scandals, fraudulent business schemes and blatant conflicts of interest ran rampant during this decade.  If the 70's was the ME Decade, then the first decade of the 21rst century has to be called the ME ME ME decade.....

It's a sad, sad state of affairs we are pulling into the next decade.  Reading about the background of the latest terrorist, who came from a well respected, well off family........ who was schooled in International schools, I was struck by a gut wrenching fear that on most days I can keep some control over.  Why?  Because despite the fact Bin Laden and his boys have targetted disenfranchised humans in war torn African countries and in poverty stricken neighbourhoods filled with angry young men with no future, it was a privileged radical fundamentalist who had chosen that direction, who had consumed the hatred, who tried to blow up the plane flying from Amsterdam to Detroit. It made me realize just how doomed we really are, and how we are basically held hostage to their sneaky tactics to kill. No one is safe. 

Fear and loathing............sadly, it will continue long after we put this decade to bed.

Tomorrow, I will take on another angle......... Because as much as it has been an emotionally heaving 10 years, in a negative sense, it also was one that has beautiful blooms too.  It was bad, but not all bad.  

what is it all about?

Another Canadian soldier died today from a homemade bomb of hatred. A married father of three daughters. A man who was an elite human soldier from the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry..... Corporal Nicholas Bulger. They played an interview with him on Canada Day and he spoke of how different it was to be in Afghanistan because he sees how much of a difference our Armed Forces are making. He stated that he saw it when he watched the children play freely when they once weren't able to. "When you look into the eyes of the children, you get a different perspective...." he said. A different perspective.... we could all use a bit of that kind of insight.

I think he saw human universality. He could relate to those children because it connected him to what he knows and sees here, on his home turf of Canada. It was obvious that it touched his heart with inspirational motivation, and in turn it touched me. I connected to this soldier because I was able to see and hear him ..... I heard his emotions .... heard his human-ness. And because I connected from my heart, I am saddened by his passing at a deeper level. I understand what he meant.

One Canadian man died today. 5 other soldiers were injured from the same blast. They were all members of Brigadeer General Jonathan Vance's technical team who toured sites with him, protecting him, reacting to any threats, responding to violence. Every death of a soldier is sad no matter what side of the trench he/she is on. Every death of an innocent victim is sad. Every death from the suffering of conflict is sad.

Violence prevails on every corner of our planet in some capacity or another. It's been there from the beginning of man, which makes me acknowledge to myself that we all have the potential to be violent. Even if I choose not to be, I still have it in me. Everyone does. So, what is it in a person to allow the violence to surface? What lies underneath the ACT? What is it that feeds hate which in turn flames a war? The only thing I can think of is a festering fear.....a fear so intense and so unresolved that it ferments in its own seething irrationality.

What do you fear the most? What are you most frightened of? It's good to know. It's important to consider what it is you fear and why...... AND how it impacts your choices and how you see others, both in your own neighbourhood and beyond. You can't work on those fears if you won't even begin to take a look at them. And they will fester....and they DO impact your choices and your lens. No one is exempt from this.....

I have been haunted by the photo Paul posted on his blog this week.....a man holding a mortally wounded child in blood stained clothes, his body contorted in death... his innocent face striped in his own blood. Maybe before this boy was injured, he was able to somehow get lost in some form of play? Even under those circumstances? I don't know.

The man is carrying this young one (his son? his neighbour's son? his nephew? a stranger to him?) along the drydirt path beside the wall that keeps them in and away from basic necessities, in the line of fire. Violence prevails. It prevails on both sides of the wall only the humans within the cement fortification have no choice but to attempt to survive as prisoners, as sitting targets of violence. Innocents suffer. There are no words.

What fear feeds this hatred? What anguish sucks the marrow out of love? Frightened of the other? Is that it? War and violence stem from our incessant fear of someone who is different? Different religion, different culture, different way of interacting in this world?

I read a story Jean Vanier conveyed about a Jewish woman named Etty Hillesum who died in Auschwitz at the age of 29. In her journal after she had been yelled at by a Gestapo officer, she wrote: "I felt no indignation, rather a real compassion and would like to ask: 'Did you have a very unhappy childhood, has your girlfriend let you down?'"

There she was in a place of living Hell, but she had an abiding belief that each person is a "house" where God resides. She believed that every single person had the potential to carry the mystery of God within the essence of being able to love and to be loved. Through that lens, she saw the beauty in every individual. Etty Hillesum, Vanier wrote, is one of the people who has influenced him the most. I bet Etty projected a calm sense of kindness and compassion as her approach to combatting the hatred fueled in the hearts of the Gestapo who ruled Auschwitz. Through believing in compassion.......one always feels forgiveness.....

I wish we could teach this. I wish we could believe in the power of compassion and kindness....of empathy. I wish we could live by the belief that all human beings are loved and can love. If we have the propensity to be violent, than we all have the propensity to be loving. Right?

We could erradicate the fermentation of irrational fears and turn it into wine instead. Wine to sip and share...... If we really want to. We have to start at looking at our own fears....! Then the very idea of making a bomb wouldn't even be considered. Then maybe walls would come down and little boys could play within the safe haven of their peaceful neighbourhoods. Then we wouldn't continue to mourn the loss of human beings struck down by the violence of wars. But how? How do we turn this world around so that people stop spitting venom and hatred at one another? I think it begins by looking into the eyes of the other. Just like Corporal Nicholas Bulger did with the Afghanistan children. It changed his perspective.
It can change our own. When was the last time you truly looked into the eyes of another human being? It may make all the difference.

______

This week's prompt at Sunday Scribblings is "human." To see more contributions, check out their blog.

adversity.....

As darkness falls, a soft touch brush has left a roseblushing above the hills. A curtain of misty fog lifts up from the river. It's almost like there is too much water for it to hold that its turned into rising condensation. Perhaps its an offering to help cool the muggy heat leftover from an afternoon of cloudbreaking after torrents of rain. Firefly magic, merrily flit here and there leaving minute glowtickles in the still air. Stars begin to appear through the thin stretched clouds which continue to linger from the stormfront. Quiet hushes the birds who until recently were clambouring for orchestral attention.

They have gone to sleep.
As have the babies.....
As I will.......soon.

I take a deep breath......
I take in the beauty of a new night....
I listen to the tiny noises in the nature around me.
I let the night air breeze cool my skin as I gaze out at serenity.
I give thanks to the blessing of being able to live in a place that is safe and beautiful.
I send a prayer out to the human beings in Iran who are re-learning how to express their spirits and to grab hold of their future and their right to freedom. I hope that one day soon they can stand outside on the cusp of a summer night and have the chance to embrace serenity. May they know that all the world is watching....and that all the world is sending them prayers for peace.
May the clouds break freely...........and may the sun shine down on them.

sadness

Not too far from where I live is the village of Ripples, New Brunswick. It consists of one main road basically, the hub being a gas station/convenience store. Many of the families who live in the homes have deep roots to the area. Many are related by blood. All of them are related by the mere fact that they live in this village. Their roots and history braid them together. Like most rural hamlets, the sense of belonging is strong as is the responsibility for looking out and caring for neighbours. Children who grow up in places like Ripples know someone has an eye on them..... There is truth in the saying....."it takes a village to raise a child..."

One of their children died over the weekend. Trooper Corey Joseph Hayes, aged 22, along with three other Canadian soldiers were killed in action in Afghanistan. Like many human beings in the Canadian Forces, he grew up surrounded by a familial history of military life and chose to continue the tradition. May their remembrances filled with stories of Corey nurture them as they mourn their loss. And may the village of Ripples know that we all mourn with you.

the innocents....

angel light....our only offering


a mother, huddled in a corner of a room in Gaza, holding her baby daughter in her arms...both wrapped in a thin blanket....their only protection from harm. she whispers.....


baby, your clay so fresh
tell me
who do you see
when you look out from the pink
with newly opened eyes?

baby, wrapped in warm love
tell me
who fills the air
around you?
I see you smiling in recognition
with your eyes
just learning how to focus.

baby, my baby,
your perfect fingers reaching outward
touching someone invisible to my adult eyes
who are you welcoming
with trusting innocence?
what stories are they filling
you heartsoul with?


will they always be there to care for you,
to make sure you're safe and sound and loved?


sweet baby, nursed by my breasts
held in my arms
rocked by lullabies as old as the hills
how can i keep you from harm
so you can grow up to dance
so lively your feet never touch the ground
your flowing skirts fluttering with joy?
how can I hold you in peace
so your eyes keep their desire
to seek out life's mysteries?

how can I feed you
how can I keep you safe
when the whole sky above us
rains down firey broken dreams
from black clouds of revenge?
What can I do
to make sure your dreams have a chance?


i have a promise to keep,
sweet love
i have a promise to keep.



tonight, light a candle of winter warmth and peace. we have promises to keep. let us strive to bring the children towards the lights of peace in the world darkened by death and war.
Light your candle tonight and say a prayer of promise....fill your words with the teachings embraced by all religions...one of love and peace and justice.
The Holy Land needs a lullaby.

gaza

תפסיקי

من فضلك توقف



arresti prego



commodo subsisto



s'il vous plaît arrêter



σταματήστε



Bitte stoppen



dengan senang menghentikan



lūdzu, pārtrauciet



prašome sustabdyti



kan du stoppe



please stop.....



the hatred,
the violence,
the murdering, the bleeding.....



shalom, shalom, shalom,



let it be peace
please stop the bombing

one star.....

The hunger to belong is at the heart of our nature. Cut off from others, we atrophy and turn in on ourselves. Mostly we do not need to make issue of belonging; when we belong, we take it for granted. Merely to be excluded or to sense rejection hurts. When we become isolated we are prone to being damaged; our minds lose their flexibility and natural kindness. We become vulnerable to fear and negativity. A sense of belonging, however suggests warmth, understanding and embrace. The ancient and eternal values of human life -- truth, unity, goodness, justice, beauty and love -- are all statements of true belonging.

Our hunger to belong is the longing to bridge the gulf that exists between isolation and intimacy. Distance awakens longing; closeness is belonging. Everyone longs for intimacy and dreams of a nest of belonging in which one is embraced, seen and loved. Something within us cries out for belonging. We can have all the world has to offer in terms of status, achievement and possessions, yet without a true sense of belonging, our lives feel empty and pointless. Like the tree that puts roots deep into the clay, each of us needs the anchor of belonging in order to bend with the storms and continue towards the light. Like the ocean that returns each time to the shore, a sense of belonging liberates us and empowers us to trust fully the rhythm of loss and longing. Like a welcoming circle of friendship, it also shelters us from the loneliness of life. Furthermore, when we belong, we have and outside mooring to prevent our minds from falling into the abyss within us. Though we may not reflect too frequently on the vast infinity that surrounds us, such infinity can be threatening; it makes us feel tiny, inconsequential and vulnerable.
John O'Donahue, prologue, Eternal Echoes; Exploring our Hunger to Belong.

Last night, I sat amongst a small group of friends in one of their homes which sits on a hill surrounded by pine and birch, looking down at the unpopulated shoreline of a section of the Saint John river headpond. It was the last gathering before our lives pull us in different directions, before routines rev up into high gear, before the shivering reality of early morning commutes to our work and school destinations have to be faced. We gathered to share a meal...to relax into an uncomplicated mellow conversation where laughter and quiet came freely. It was like a break for the brain. It felt comfortably relaxing like one feels during a massage. There was an inner sense of peace in every one of us. Wrapped up warmly, protected from the biting winter winds, we all felt a lovely sense of belonging within the home cocoon.

The Christmas tree, one cut from the nearby wood still contained its magic....the little white lights on its uniquely stretched limbs reflected beautifully in the window with the dark night lingering behind the glow. From where I was sitting, I could see beyond the treelights' reflection to one bright star out in the night sky. It was so brilliant, so alone and it outshone the sideways moon which seemed to be cloaked in a thin almost sheer muslin of clouds. One alluring star sitting in the east, hanging over the dark horizon winked. I wondered if it was the same guiding light seen by the Magi. It may have been.

I pulled on my coat, tucked my feet back into my boots and headed out onto the porch to get a better view of the solitary twinkling light. It wasnt until I stepped away from the protection of the house while standing on an unsheltered deck 15 feet above the hill, that I realized how bitterly cold and windy it was. It bit through my clothes, and stung my exposed face, the noise surrounded me in a way that made me feel the bite of insignificant vulnerability. The contrast between the quiet warmth belonging amongst friends and the stark isolation surrounded by the wrath of whistling nature was startling. And yet, I was only a couple of feet away from them, still visible, still connected.....my roots planted in the common clay.

I stood beside the outreaching branches of a mature birch tree, one that shades this deck from the summer heat which now stood nakedly majestic.....and I looked up at the star through the tree's bare branches. The wind made the birchskin flap furiously making a rattling old bones noise. The branches scratched each other like nails on a dry skin. Eerie sounds creaked out of the nearby wood, crackling cold amongst the siren lament.

These sounds met my thoughts, which drove me eastward to a place far away from the place where I stood alone. They accompanied my wondering, as I tried to picture the scene unfolding below the same star in a the area where the Magi once journied to acknowledge and to celebrate the birth of a very special baby. I realized this star would not be visible to them from their vantage. This star would be blocked by the violent outpouring raining down on them. No peace in the East. No rest on their land. No reassurance when they peered at their nightsky. Just fear, and bitterly cold harsh anger.

Why? The storied history of the Middle East is a tightly woven complicated strangle which defies my understanding. Resolution and peace seem impossible when surrendering and letting go are marked with the lack of any ability to see beyond one's own interpretation of the history which continues to defiantly unfold below the bright star. Boundaries and borders made up by human beings......fought over with such unrelenting vengeance. I can't imagine it will ever cease. As I stood alone, surrounded by the vastness of my country's unoccupied land, I was left wondering if it all came down to a hunger to belong. Are they fighting for the empowering liberation a sense of belonging provides? Is this the hungry insatiable battlecry?

One star.....millions of eyes gaze at one star......and ask the same question about a place where peace never seems to belong. It echoes a hunger so deep, it's cry penetrates our own.

I stepped back into the fold of my own belonging......crawled up onto a sofa so comfortable and welcoming and fell asleep thinking of the Magi, thinking of the star, feeling for a place where the Prince of Peace was born....and wishing I could bottle my comfort to sprinkle on the souls who know no rest.

November Tolls

Lost notes

muffled by wayward apparitions
seep out of the stormfront
weeping their dreary sound
onto loosened images
etched in shades of grey
carpeting a lonely landscape
where melancholy lingers.


The flowers of the forest play on.


A cavalry of hollow dreams
loom over clay remnants
on a stubbled field
where fog blurs reality into images.

Good friends never come back.

As the last note is played,
echoing on the edge of fog fed light
Notes lost in the blues
where silence renders memories
where life once harboured hope.



The world is waiting for the sun
to rise out of the grey draped hills
Until then.....we will recognize for whom the bell tolls.

Words Fall to the Floor.....

This song was played this morning after a wonderful interview between Michael Enright and Joan Baez on CBC Sunday morning. Poignant and timely, we seem to have come around in a circle where we are faced with similar struggles. The learned "enemy" may have a different face and come from a part of the world than the "enemies" we are conditioned to point our grubby little fingers at. I don't think it really matters who it is..... turns out God doesn't pick sides. Good thing too. Sadly, i wonder if we'll ever learn from Him?

The lyrics:

"With God On Our Side"

Oh my name it is nothin'
My age it means less
The country I come from
Is called the Midwest
I's taught and brought up there
The laws to abide
And the land that I live in
Has God on its side.

Oh the history books tell it
They tell it so well
The cavalries charged
The Indians fell
The cavalries charged
The Indians died
Oh the country was young
With God on its side.

The Spanish-American
War had its day
And the Civil War too
Was soon laid away
And the names of the heroes
I's made to memorize
With guns on their hands
And God on their side.

The First World War, boys
It came and it went
The reason for fighting
I never did get
But I learned to accept it
Accept it with pride
For you don't count the dead
When God's on your side.

When the Second World War
Came to an end
We forgave the Germans
And then we were friends
Though they murdered six million
In the ovens they fried
The Germans now too
Have God on their side.

I've learned to hate Russians
All through my whole life
If another war comes
It's them we must fight
To hate them and fear them
To run and to hide
And accept it all bravely
With God on my side.

But now we got weapons
Of the chemical dust
If fire them we're forced to
Then fire them we must
One push of the button
And a shot the world wide
And you never ask questions
When God's on your side.

In a many dark hour
I've been thinkin' about this
That Jesus Christ
Was betrayed by a kiss
But I can't think for you
You'll have to decide
Whether Judas Iscariot
Had God on his side.

So now as I'm leavin'
I'm weary as Hell
The confusion I'm feelin'
Ain't no tongue can tell
The words fill my head
And fall to the floor
If God's on our side
He'll stop the next war.

the vigil, 1914-1918

Fredericton skyline at twilight, November 4, 2008

During World War 1, Canada, a country of 8 million people, lost 68,000 soldiers in battle. If one was to project this casualty loss now it is equivalent to losing close to 300,000 soldiers in Afghanistan. Incomprehensible. Incomprehensible.

Today, one Canadian soldier from that "Great" War is alive today, and with him goes the only living thread we have to our human stories of that time in our history. Faces fade along with the multi-sensory acuity of what was a dark and sorrowful time on this planet we call home.

To commemorate the 90th anniversary of the end of World War 1, a living memorial is being projected in several cities across this country as well as at Canada House , located beside Trafalgar Square in London, England. It began at sunset in London on November 3rd , with the Queen in attendance to mark the sobering reflection. From that moment until sunrise on Remembrance Day, the names of all the soldiers will be projected onto a memorial for all the world to see. The project was created by two visionaries, Canadian actor RH Thompson and lighting expert Martin Conboy.

Light transforms our memories into present day thoughts. Memories are what makes us human. Every single human being who died has a living story. If you are living in or close to one of these cities, which includes Fredericton (at Memorial Hall at UNB), Halifax, Ottawa, Toronto, Regina, Edmonton, Calgary and /or London England, I recommend a detour from your busy day to stop for a few moments.....to connect to our past, to recognize these 68,000 men who were sons, fathers, brothers, uncles, nephews, friends, neighbours......... and if you aren't able to attend it in person, here is a link to the site and another to the government website. The names will be projected slowly and continually until next Tuesday, November 11th.

Lest we forget.

reading glasses and red lips.

Our TV waves have been inundated with slick graphically enhanced ads created to try to lure us to the side of what is "right and good"....whatever that is. It's silly season once again both here and south of the border. You'd think as a political junkie, I would be feeling a sense of heightened thirst quenching quivers. Surprisingly, I'm not. In fact I'm having a very tough time conjuring up any whiff of interest even though I keep hearing the pundits and journalists yammer on about the importance of the elections. Did you know these are THE most important elections of our time. Really? Gee, it seems like it's the same dinner fare we've been dished up since the beginning of time. Well, except for the recent emergence of Sarah the Alaskan running mate.

Is it just me, or is does she resemble everyman's fantasy of Library girl? You know that one.......stern and no-nonsense on the outside, firey vixen on the inside? Well, then she opens her mouth and as much as she says the difference between a hockey mom and a pitbull is lipstick? I've met my share of pitbull hockey moms. They wear lipstick.....and sometimes no nonsense bouffie hairdos and reading glasses...........and they bellow and bite with venom. I wonder if the stock prices of erectile dysfunction blue pills have tanked lately because of her smoking gun presence? hmmmm..........just wondering, because no doubt about it.........this woman is a hot commodity. In fact, I think her ovaries have a brass shine to them and she's ringing them loud and in your face.

I watched the interview between "ABC Charlie" and "Alaskan Sarah...." a reading glasses fest. The questions, posed with the eyes over the top of the glasses.......damn seriously.......were unrelenting and MUCH needed.....produced answers more revealing of this woman and her extreme right wing opinions than I think she intended. Bloggie and MSM editorials predictably run the gamut of opinion, though it appears that they agree with her mishandling of the "Bush Doctrine" question, which automatically makes one question her depth of knowledge on her own government's policy. She tried to sidestep in and in turn made it quite apparent that she wasn't too sure what Gibson was referring to.

Yes, her answers on how to handle international issues and hot spots in the world were downright scary in my opinion, but you know what? It doesn't matter. It really doesn't matter. She has made an impact solely on who she is and who she is not. This is the allure! It has nothing to do with whether she has travelled much or whether she has met a Head of State. It matters that she HASN'T!!! What she has done in one astonishing back swoop is to hairclip the freshness out of Obama's wings.

Frontier Sarah brandished the "second coming" of Kennedy to the back pages and kitty litter boxes of yesterday's news ALL without a "blink......" Yes, she stated that there's no time to blink.........and didn't when McCain came calling. More amazingly, Sarah Palin woke up the masses........you know the ones who the Democrats had hoped would remain sleepy and apathetic. She woke up the people who see her and say.........."she's one of us! She can be our Washington slayer!" They see the fire in her belly, the no nonsense ability to cut through the crap and tell it like it is. They see Sarah Palin as a real live person who has emerged from an ordinary family and existance to take it all on. Her presence makes everyone else's presence seem lamely predictable and worn out. Even the new bright light Obama.

It all reminds me of something out of a Frank Capra movie!!

Did I say I wasn't interested? Did I say I didn't agree with the headline grabbing.........."most important election" diatribe? I guess I better rethink this because the election just keeps on grabbing hold......it keeps on getting more and more interesting as I glance over my reading glasses and take in the next breath of talking head babble. They will continue to consume themselves thereby helping her along. Sarah Palin will continue to spout off in too many unhandle-able directions and make glaring mistakes. This will breed new life into the talking head commentators, and will feed the comedy sketch grist mill of late night talk show hosts. Their jokes and opinions won't matter....... she will continue her meteoric rise from moose bagging hockey mom to the next Vice President of the United States. The masses are awake........and they like her. The people who were contemplating not voting altogether because of their disdain for McCain will be voting......and I'm afraid there's enough of them and of momentum to force her to pack up her growing family and head south.....er....east.

You know what? She's such a multi-tasking firecracker that I'm sure she'll manage to do juggle it all as well as make sure the lipstick is on in bold red. I mean after all, she's got God on her side and I hear he had something to do with the war in Iraq. There are moose in Washington aren't there?

Meet you in the foxhole. I'm ducking for cover.

ps.....is there an election on this side of the border too? Gee........who knew? I think we could use a big stir of the day old pot of past banquets.........a little spice to add flavour to the gruel. Where are the brass ovaried women eager to turn Ottawa upside down? Oh, we had that in the last election by way of the Princess of Auto Parts, Belinda Stronach..... she was going to be the saving grace ticket to an engaged constituency. And where is she now after breaking a few hearts, showing her glaring need to maintain her princesstry by always getting what she wanted. Well, after breaking up the marriage of one fine goon from the National Hockey League, Mr. Ty Domi, she hung up her skates and puckbunny ears, quit politics and has moved on.........into the quiet wilderness of the corporate world. That was enough to turn off any politically interested females who may have been on the cusp of running.

the wicked slight of indifference

In a democracy some are guilty but all are responsible.

The opposite of good is not evil.

The opposite of good is indifference.

Abraham Heschel

It seems to me that we are becoming more and more hardened and weary by the blinders we wear. Though it may be out of sheer survival as we continue to be inundated with the barrage of horrors infiltrating our global village with no end in sight. It's just too overwhelming and too enormous to even know where to begin to search for solutions....war, poverty, hunger, terrorism, abuse, gun violence, gang violence, family violence, dictatorship, child soldiers, child labour, torture.....the list of human driven evil is endless. So, we turn away. We stop reading the newspaper. We turn off the evening news. We rationalize our closed minds by distancing ourselves to the realities that our fellow human beings are facing.

What I don't know won't affect me. What I don't know won't hurt me.

Why havent we learned from even recent world history that this is never the case?

Indifference. "Don't care." "Not interested." "Why bother? I can't do anything about it." "It's not my problem. If they have a problem, why don't they do something about it?" "Nothings stopping them. They made those choices to live there. Let them clean up their own messes." "Let the politicians deal with it. That's why they were elected in the first place." "Did I vote? Why would I bother? They are all criminals anyway. I'm not wasting my time."

"I've got bills to pay. Let someone else donate their money." "I don't watch the news. It's too depressing." "We don't get the newspaper anymore. It's too depressing." Africa? Ah, it'll never change.....I'm so sick of hearing about it. We keeping pouring money and sending them food and they never get over their problems. Why don't they just get over it?" "I can't think about that right now. I'm too busy."

Wow.......I'm sure you've heard these statements or similar ones uttered. They are flipped out into the air so frequently that I'm afraid we as a collective society have begun to believe them. It has led us down a wicked path of indifference as we insultate our individual nests to hide away from responsibility.

Cynicism eats the flesh of our souls. It feeds an "I don't care" attitude. Indifference is the enabler of evil. Just like the buddy who drinks with their alcoholic friend instead of trying to help the friend overcome his addiction, indifferent behaviour is interpreted as consent. Better to stick your head in the sand than to take your turn making a stand?

It's not as black and white as I'm portraying though is it? We may be able to trace this lackadaisical stance to the beginning of time, we are now living in a multi-media ocean of news. It IS too much. It IS mindblowingly awful. We have evolved into a global village where the horrors of Darfur may be a top news story one day only to be shoved off the front page and out of our consciousness by a terrorist attack in Glasgow the next day, followed by bombing in Pakistan, a plane crash in Brazil, and a list of casualities as a result of yet another terror bombing in a village in Iraq. Who can keep up with the conflicts in the Middle East? As much as I try, I am one confused person. And what is completely and utterly lost in the onslaught learning about death and gore and torture? The good.

The good. We dont hear or read enough of it.

The consequence? We tune out just to handle the dooming glooming wicked. Our media thrives because of sensational stories of evil. Though someone must be reading them or watching the news because we are the ones who obviously perpetuate this and expect it, the collective "we" remains passive and indifferent. We are informed and indifferent? It's a vicious circle which has left us feeling impotent. Instead of seeking balance, of learning about some of the good things happening in the world, our constant feed of evil has turned into a sense of learned helplessness. Too may bad guys. Too many bad stories has left us bereft of knowing and understanding the goodness. Just like a victim of abuse, we have lost our confidence in doing something about it. Given that the knowledge and understanding of good and bad, of right and wrong is the essence of our moral construct, it leads me to wonder if our society is clinically depressed. Depression manifests itself by exhibiting indifferent behaviour doesn't it?

So, where do we find the balance? How do we dig out of the depression and indifference which seems to have rendered us incapable of reacting? How do we find the motivational drive to overcome apathy?

Desmond Tutu stated, "Do your little bit of good where you are; its those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world." That's how he started, right? He wasn't born a famous spiritual and political leader. He started by doing a little bit of good. Look where it got him?

Last week, in the midst of the evil driven news stories was one powerfully positive story which floated to the top....the story which actually instigated this long run-on thought. Stephanie Nolen, an author and journalist who writes for the Globe and Mail on topics mostly related to Africa, but in a manner which always brings whatever story she is writing about right into my own cloistered world and makes me think, wrote a wonderful story about a new group of people called the Elders. Did you hear about them? An excerpt............

"The official order of business Wednesday was the introduction of The Elders: convened at the request of Nelson Mandela, a collection of former leaders that has begun to work together to advance the causes of peace and global justice.
Five Nobel Laureates and a handful of other eminences gathered on the stage in Johannesburg as Mr. Mandela announced that they would seek to fulfill the traditional role of elders in a village, providing wisdom and leadership and attempting to resolve conflicts, taking on everything from climate change to the fighting in Darfur.
A symbolic empty chair was left on stage for Aung San Suu Kyi, the activist who will join the group when she is free of government-imposed house arrest in Myanmar (formerly known as Burma). But as the Elders sat in a row and spoke about their very serious work, a current – of irreverence, of resilience, of what looked very much like joy – kept bubbling up through the formality. And Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who chairs this elders' council, voiced the true theme of the gathering: “Goodness will prevail.” here is the link to the rest of the story

Abraham Heschel was right. Indifference is the opposite of good. He learned this as a strong opponent of racism and war, as a man and a religious leader who walked alongside Martin Luther King and who stated that when he was marching against the savagery of racism, his legs were doing his praying. His moral compass fed his action. As ours must do too. A little good at a time and we will overwhelm the world.

We can overwhelm the world.

We need to regard our leaders, the more famous ones as well as the people in our community who are assuming stances and demanding goodness, who can provide us with balance in an imbalanced world, who can motivate and stimulate and generate activity which takes us away from the depression of indifference. Because the more you hear something, and the more you read it............the more you SAY IT OUT LOUD, the more you will believe it.

Goodness will prevail..........has a wonderful ring to it, doesn't it? Let's let our feet and our hearts and our minds and our actions be the prayer.

ps. Wicked is the prompt this week from sunday scribblings......

understanding and trying to figure it out

cloud view from the Burton Bridge

If you cross the Saint John river over the Burton Bridge, you will find yourself very close to CFB Base Gagetown, home to many Canadian military men and women, over a thousand of whom are stationed in Afghanistan, and many more who are preparing to take their turn in the coming year. In the area surrounding the base.....in small close-knit communities like Burton, Lincoln, Geary, Sheffied, Maugerville, and in larger centres like Oromocto and Fredericton military families live and work and pray for the safety of their loved ones.

Like all close knit communities, the immediate families are surrounded by extended families which include relatives but also a much wider net of caring and concerned people who are their friends and neighbours. Because of the longstanding history of the base, many people who live in the area settled in after their tours of duty. The ties to the Canadian Armed Forces are strong. Feelings and commitment run deep, and spread out to touch the hearts of others in the area who may not have a loved one fighting over in Afghanistan, but feel a sense of fellowship because our lives are intertwined.

Classmates, workmates, encounters at the local Tim Hortons.

Friends, neighbours, connections with the people selling goods and produce at the Saturday market.

University of New Brunswick is the Centre for Conflict Studies. The History department has a strong focus on military history.

We are a community with a strong military commitment and a deep sense of pride because of it.

Red is the colour worn on Fridays.

Yellow "support the troops" ribbons adorn the backs of most cars, and are wrapped around many trees. Unlike Toronto where there is an ongoing debate over whether or not to show support the troops......it's a way of life here. It is respected.

I didn't grow up in the area, nor did I grow up near an armed forces base. I also grew up at a time when patriotism shown through a strong military need wasn't even on the radar in my hometown. It was very foreign to me, and admitedly still is to some extent. I have no family ties to CFB Gagetown, past or present. Living in and amongst military families and friends who are impacted directly by the Base, I have had the privilege of learning from them.

There is a definate heightened feeling of anxiety and alertness to what is going on in Afghanistan and other hot spots around the world because it is a way of life. It impacts directly. It is not something we can keep from the kids, as you could in areas not connected to an army or air force or naval base. They hear the news...........whether it's a tragic story or an upcoming rally to support the troops and they want to know. They have friends whose Mom or Dads are in the military. Its a way of life and it must be discussed......communication has to remain open in order to help them understand.

Yesterday, we (including the children) learned of 6 more soldiers killed in Afghanistan by a roadside bomb. I could see it in my children's eyes as the reality was broadcasted on the car radio.......

"Are the soldiers from here?"

"I don't know yet. The families are informed first before the names are released to the public."

"Why do they do that? How do they tell them?"

"It shows respect to the families so they can have some private time. The military try to contact them by going to their homes to tell them in person."

"So, all the families across Canada are waiting wondering if it is their Mom or Dad? I can't imagine how they must be feeling right now....."

"It would be very very difficult. I can't imagine either."

Yesterday, we learned of 6 more soldiers killed in Afghanistan by a roadside bomb. Media and spin bureaucrats talk of the attack as a terrorist attack rather than war related. What does that mean? Terrorism is war. And unfortunately, terrorism knows no geographic boundaries. How does one try to explain this to a child?

where poppies grow

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind;

And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;

It tolls for thee.

John Donne

Devotions

Dedicated to the 6 Canadian soldiers who were killed by a roadside bomb in Afghanistan yesterday. May they rest in peace.

wake up..........again.............

The latest foiled terrorism attacks by the Muslim al-Quaeda gang members surely has raised the fear level throughout the world. The fact that these terrorists are all from the medical community forces us to question the stereotypical profile we have been fed through the main stream media stories and the politician's speeches. Having stated that, I do believe we are at fault too.....we want to believe in the sense that these suicide bombers are downtrodden. It helps us make sense of it, and it helps us walk away from the responsibility of doing something about it.

There was a feeling of pity for the poor souls who had been brought up in poverty, with no upward career possibilities as a way of understanding the motives behind the bombings around the world. This in turn most likely affected the approach governments and do-gooders have been taking to try to assuage the Muslim community to feeling "connected" to the bigger community. As well, it minimalized the severity of the hatred and the drive behind a much larger Muslim group.

Where and when did we forget that the 9-11 attackers were educated people as well? When did we begin to focus on just the so-called marginalized Muslims? When did we pigeon-hole the "typical" potential al-Quaeda suicide bomber as a wayward kid in search of life meaning? This is a major wake up call. We should never be so stupid again to think that Islamic extremists fit into a one size fits all mold. The level of hatred and devotion to their cause goes deep.....much deeper than we have ever given them credit for. Educated people living in our communities ARE involved. They always have been.

Where this will end? I surely don't know. What I do know and fear greatly is that we are a very long way from any resolution whatsoever. The recent calls for the moderate Muslims to come forward to lead seems very hollow right now as I can't quite get my head around the idea that moderation is understood or embraced the way I define it. Yes, we need to carry on and live our lives. But, I find this process more and more difficult as my trust of government and the power people decreases and my doubt of the idea of a Moderate Muslim increases.

No country is safe. That's the fact. And as much as we carry on living our little lives, our world continues to spew violence, hatred and craziness so much so that we are learning to always look at our neighbours with very different eyes. I hate it, but that's our reality.

Can you hear the lonely echo of the solitary bugle?
Can you hear the shivering anguish
in the silence between the notes?
stark
suppressed
sorrow
Today we stand together in silent tears
Listening to the heart pain of past and present wars.
The spirit echo

More than remembering
More than remembering
More than remembering

Today is the 90th anniversary of the Battle of Vimy Ridge in France. As most Canadians know this battle is considered a turning point in the historical development of the identity of this country on an international level. Thousands of our men died there. It's effects have reverberated since. The monument which towers over the fields of Vimy is stunning in it's force.


5 or 6 years ago, after several scathing articles were written about the fact that it was falling apart, the government arranged to have it restored. Today was it's unveiling.

Thousands attended the very moving ceremony.........veterans, families, 5000 Canadian school children, politicians. The Queen was there re-dedicating the monument. Our Prime Minister spoke eloquently capturing our collective feelings. Solemn, sombre, respectful. Pride and sadness felt by many Canadians and many French whose lives were impacted even more so by the Great World War 1.

The National media have provided wonderful coverage of the memorial services as well as the more personal stories that still continue to evolve that were based in a place where thousands of Canadian soldiers were killed.....their remains left under the soil. It has been a weekend of re-learning and re-acquainting collectively of a time in history that is etched into our identity.

More than remembering.

Yesterday during our Easter celebrations, during our remembrance of Vimy, we learned that 6 Canadian soldiers were killed in Afghanistan and several were injured. 5 0ut of 6 soldiers were based out of CFB Gagetown, located in the town of Oromocto New Brunswick.

The news struck hard in this community of 9000 people........a community which is part of my community. Upon hearing the news, not knowing the names of the fallen, all I could think of were the thousands of families and friends who would be sitting in shock waiting and hoping they wouldn't receive the news that their own had perished.


Time stopped yesterday at CFB Gagetown while everyone held their breath. Time became an enemy. 2500 troops from this small community are in Afghanistan.........many are "from away........" grew up in other parts of this country. But, Oromocto and the surrounding area is where they call home now.

The Canadian memorial weekend in France, honouring a battle 90 years old was thrust into the present......

Today we learn their names. Today, we pray as we embrace the families and friends of these young men......members of our community.

weeping woman, Vimy Ridge

Sgt. Donald Lucas, 31, of Burton, N.B.
Cpl. Aaron E. Williams, 23, of Lincoln, N.B.
Pte. Kevin Vincent Kennedy, 20, of St. Lawrence, N.L.
Pte. David Robert Greenslade, 20, of Saint John, N.B.
Cpl. Christopher Paul Stannix, 24, of Dartmouth, N.S.
Cpl. Brent Poland, 37, of Camlachie, Ont.

The monument which towers over Vimy Ridge is called Canada Bereft.

Bereft is exactly how my community is feeling today.

More than remembering...........

Bereft.