Saturday, June 14, 2014

How the expression "awww" has saved my day!

It's getting close to that time to reinvent myself. I do it at least every 7-8 years. It involves completely uprooting myself. Giving away some of my prized possessions that I would normally hang onto like an old blankie. Then boxing up the rest and putting it all in storage or on a truck to be shipped to "destination unknown".

In the past, my feet would itch to skip town and move to new surroundings, but I think my love-hate relationship with T.O. is taking a turn. Although I still can't get used to many aspects of this urban jungle, I've met some awesome people who are struggling as I am to find balance and connection amid all the concrete and chaos. They're the folks that keep my feet firmly planted, and I thank them for all the support, care, time, resources, and friendship they've shared, even when I hide away in my cave on evenings and weekends that ought to be spent in warm company. Sorry.

Hopefully the above friends will be happy to know that I am committing to making some positive changes in my life to quell my sometimes intense episodes of anxiety, particularly during the commute to and from everywhere in this city (the main, primary, dominant reason why it's so hard for me to leave my safe cell). When I'm having one of those episodes, my breathing slows down quite a bit, like I'm holding my breath for what might happen next. Then my body becomes as rigid as a surfboard. I try to focus on what I'm reading or listening to on my wee mp3 player, but the closeness of the crowds, the clattering clop clops of hurrying feet, the bumps and jostles, the stepping on toes by the ones who don't hold onto the bars (ok I know it's great for strengthening balance, but do they have to stand so close to me?), the folks talking behind me on their cell phones, the folks talking like they're talking into a megaphone, the tobacco smoke wafting from entrances and alleys, the strong perfumes and musky smells, and then, then there are the ones that head straight into me as I head straight into them, both of us holding our ground in anticipation of the collision!

T.O. - my love-hate relationship. It's a binary. There's no in-between here.

You can imagine what state I'm in by the time I get to my destination. But there is a real comfort in knowing that probably half the population of this city (maybe more) has experienced/is experiencing very similar situations and symptoms, if not worse. Whenever I have commuter stress now, I've found some strategies that work for me:

1) Observe interactions between parents/caregivers and their children - it's so comforting to watch people give love and care to kids, and also how the kids respond to their affection.

2) Stop to watch the chirping sparrows, squirrels, and pigeons and say "awww". "Awww" is a good expression because it helps dissipate my anger and impatience. Try it! It will give you an instant feeling of goodness!

3) Expanding on #2 - watch dogs walking alongside their owners or dog walkers. OMG, the dogs on the sidewalks of T.O. are the cutest, the friendliest, and most well-behaved, except when they're taking a piss or poo - nasty!

4) Look UP! If I'm looking up at the clouds moving across the sky and up, up at the tallest buildings in the city, I immediately feel a sense of calm surround me, but oops! cut the construction noise, please!

5) Listening to slow piano instrumentals are always nice and helps me look at people with happiness, but then the track changes to a Rihanna song, and I get back to being mad poker-faced me!

There are also behaviours that only aggravate the anxiety and frustration I feel:

1) Walk too fast - when I walk too fast, I tend to have less patience - yeah, please move out of my way, thanks.

2) Walk while listening to fast-tempo music (like the Rihanna tune) - this steals away presence and distracts my mind; it also sometimes inflates my ego depending on the song (lol, wish I could dance like Rihanna!)

3) Walk while thinking negative thoughts - these will definitely contribute to some displays of meanness!

Ok, I've digressed from the original point which was about coming to some transitional period in my life. Well, one of those transitions is ironically staying put. But a few other transitions are: getting rid of my electronic piano (I will get an upright later on in life - I'd rather practice on the real thing!), possibly adopting a pet companion to offer them a forever home (here I go - "awwww"!), changing my diet - slowly, slowly, baby steps towards more plant-based consumption, getting back on the running schedule (entering a few 5Ks in the fall!), and the biggest change that will require a heck of a lot of commitment (and sacrifice): setting clear boundaries in my relationships with various people and communities that show respect and care to all. I've spent way too much of my time enabling others because I have the insufferable quality of always feeling sorry for the lot of humankind! Ugh! This trait has brought me many rewards and some valuable transformative lessons, but it has also brought many failures. I've been working on it though through reading, talking to folks, training my brain to think and act differently, and finding some very strong mentors.

I guess as I work through these transitions, I'll eventually get to my goals/destinations, a thought that might also help in my daily commute where the endearing and the infuriating converge.

Awww!




Friday, April 18, 2014

The 3-Day Novel Contest: An Exploration of...


Procrastination.  I've learned in the last 3 years since taking up the challenge of writing a novel in just three days that I'm a procrastinator.  No need for a rocket scientist to tell me that.  And years of therapy didn't quite hit the nail on the head either.  But, alas!  A wee little contest probably originating from some mountainous hut in the backwoods of B.C. (this is my creative guess) gifted me with that momentous epiphany!

And geez, do I ever enjoy those moments of sheer procrastinating bliss!  It might involve something as profound as clicking between Facebook and yahoo mail in elegant repetitive motions (my nimble fingers come from years of practicing beginner piano, and I didn't quite make it any further, and well...you can only guess why) in the middle of writing a descriptive passage of yet another phantasmagorical oddity of a character...because it's always complicated these relationships writers have with their characters.  Or I might take a few or several moments away from the laptop (ok, more like a few hours maybe) in order to stare fixedly inside my refrigerator looking for that palate-perfect combination of snacks.  I have to eat, and this putting together of food might take some time the same way writers put together words.  Switching back to some semblance of normality - and there is no shame in saying that Facebook is my normal - allows me some space to breathe and disconnect from those aggravating characters who can't seem to get it together.  I mean seriously wtf - you non-existent people, get your shit together, puleeeeze!!!

I recently attended a panel discussion on writing fiction, and one of the writers said to the audience that when she wrote, she would let the story take care of itself and that she was the objective element, allowing her characters and plot to essentially run the writing.  My simple-minded reading of her comment is that in allowing my characters to speak for themselves and remove my interfering fingers from their lives, the words would just come out without any censoring.  I'd simply be these characters' transcriber, and that could take only a matter of hours before the story is finito.  Um, why can I not do that?  I mean, why can't I stop controlling my characters, and let them go so they can find their own way of telling these deadline-driven stories, while I can focus on sliding and tapping my way through Candy Crush?  It would be so easy!  Three days would seem like a quick switch of candy in Dreamworld!

Y'know, that is possibly the crux of my procrastination issue.  I want to control every waking moment of my characters' lives so I get stuck on that cruelest of words: perfection.  Why can't I just accept my characters as they are, in all their flawed glory?  In truth, some of the characters in my stories have some serious issues to deal with, and I'm always trying to figure out how to wag my finger at them and tell them what they should do.  If I just accepted them unconditionally, then my novel writing could probably make the 3-day deadline and I'd finally end up with the 100-page whopper that I've been talking quite extensively about (but never producing in all these years) on Facebook and Twitter updates (sadly, it's a conversation I have had with myself on most occasions if the number of "likes" gives any indication of interest).

More importantly, I'd have heaping hours of time well-spent on doing what I normally do when I procrastinate except there wouldn't be a novel for me to get back to 'cuz it would all be done!  Like, how do you say "yay"?!  My characters would take care of it.  I wouldn't try to give them bad advice or try to mold them the way I'd like them to be.  I must say, it gets me quite emotional thinking what a real leap of faith it is when we writers learn to just let go of the puppet strings or cut the proverbial umbilical cord.  We do not need to hide ourselves in embarrassed silence anymore because of the stigmatizing language against procrastinators.  We no longer need to carry around that ill-fitting label that shames us for wanting to spend more time with our Bejeweled Blitz rather than with those dog-gone imaginary and irreconcilable folks who just take up way too much battery power in our heads.

Of course, in taking that route where I hand over the power to these little people on the page, it would mean giving up the title of Procrastinator that I've held with such dignity and perseverance for the new title of...and I'm sure you knew this one was coming...a woman of leisure!

This year's 3-Day Novel Contest will be held from August 30th to September 1, 2014!  And folks, I hate to say it, but I've just registered!  Please, help me manage my control issues this year so I can finally spend quality time with all of you in cyberspace, and not have to run off again to write some novel.  Thanks.


Saturday, March 8, 2014

Somewhere over the rainbow...

Humanism sees all the pieces of a being, and most importantly, all the potential and all the goodness.  Love can shine a light into the darkest corners and breathe in new life and new dreams, like glue to gather all of our broken pieces. PHOTO BY SHAZIA ISLAM
Today, I found out that someone I knew had lost his battle.  Today, I found out how much havoc our consciousness can wreak on us when the life we've been given ends up betraying us.  Exactly three weeks ago on Saturday, Feb. 15, my friend could no longer withstand his pain, and he took his life in the loneliest place in the world - inside his prison cell.

Today, I printed out the photo above to send to my friend to cheer him up, give him an opportunity to see another side of himself, not knowing that he was gone.  I had sent him an earlier photo before taken by another very good friend of mine of a rainbow poised in a graceful arc above a small idyllic town.  When my friend received this photo, he wrote to me and said it was the most beautiful thing ever, and that it was what he would look at during those dark days in solitary confinement.

I couldn't find the address information anymore of the correctional institute where he was being held.  We had been emailing earlier, but I had received a notice from the administration of the prison a few days ago that my friend was no longer on the email system.  So, I decided to send him another letter as I had done the first time we made contact last fall in 2013.  I would have included the photo of the shiny disco ball.  He would have seen parts of the park outside my office window.  He would have seen the light reflected from the ball in the shape of diamonds on the ledge.  Another rainbow effect with the idyllic scene in the background, and the shining presence of this beautiful ball of mirrors.  What would he have thought?

But when I looked his name up to locate the address, I discovered the news of his passing.  Nothing much was said about him that humanized him and his life.  His past actions had rendered him unworthy of any kindness from the press, and this, I do understand.  The people who had been tragically impacted by his actions also needed kindness.  But the press did not honour either side - the victims nor their perpetrators; the coverage was just one long gratuitous interlude of the violence that would continue to resound in press articles to come.  No critical analysis of or action against the horrific nature of war, and the debilitating effects of PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), and how young American men and women from lowly backgrounds are often recruited to be sent off across the oceans to fight and kill people who they have been brainwashed to hate - their learning devoid of any understanding of people's histories, livelihoods, and communities.  They maim and kill with the same ferocity that they blame "the terrorists" for showing, and justify their armed invasions all in defense of freedom.  Operation Desert Storm was nothing more but a replay of the age-old crusade of the West to divide, conquer, and destroy the brown-skinned Muslims.  And so the destruction continues, not just in Iraq.

My friend was one of those young recruits.  With already a troubled life, the officers paid no mind.  He was another body/boy to be shipped off to the killing fields.  Killing he witnessed, and killing he did.  When he was discharged, he was charged shortly after, and sentenced to life without parole.  From then on, everyday became work to pay his dues and right the wrongs he had committed.  But those memories stayed fresh in his mind, like a festering wound coagulating into daily terrors with other inmates who knew of his crime and gave him no peace.  People will ask if he deserved any peace.  I ask, how else can one heal if not out of a place of peace, and not misery?  But then people will say, he didn't deserve to heal.  I ask, why do we judge the wrongs of one being while turning a blind eye to the society that created him?

I know my friend committed atrocities, but I also know of his profound guilt and sorrow in the brief letters we exchanged before his death.  He was on a mission at that time, to procure some semblance of friendship and understanding in his life, with someone who represented the enemy he had been taught to hate.  That photo of the rainbow had caught him by surprise.  He never expected such a thing to happen, that someone from across these stolen and plundered landscapes would reach out to him to tell him that there were other dimensions of his spirit he could reach into to find that rainbow.

I hope my friend finds that rainbow in the life beyond, for it is always somewhere over the rainbow, way up high, where that land of lullabies offer glimmering sights and sounds of a once loving and playful child.

"Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raajioon"



Sunday, February 2, 2014

I heard a rumour and it ain't pretty


Don't be like our friendly parrot and repeat everything you hear. PHOTO BY SHAZIA ISLAM

"Did you hear about so-and-so?"

"Did you hear what so-and-so did?"

"So-and-so should receive an asshole-of-the-year award for..."

"I can't stand so-and-so because..."

Do these intros sound familiar? They are the sound of gossip coming from the mouths of people all around us including you and me. Consider it an ancient form of bitching passed down the ages in order to safeguard our position among the lot in our communities, our workplaces, our schools, and now even in our social media worlds. Like Amy Toffelmire writes in her well-articulated and sensible article, "Gossip: good or bad?":

Researchers theorize that life in small tribal groups may have forced our ancestors to adapt and gain some pretty sophisticated social intelligence. Imagine living among a small group of people, competing for resources and for friends and allies. Sounds a little like high school, doesn't it? You'd have to figure out who you could trust and who would make a good partner. Among our ancestors, those who survived and thrived were those who could predict and influence the behaviour of the people around them. This took a bit of talking and a lot of listening and watching.

For those of us who need some clarity, gossip is sharing and expressing information and judgments about others in a derogatory manner, "Did you hear that so-and-so got the award? What a joke! So-and-so didn't deserve it, a real cheater for sure!" It can be used in all kinds of ways to seriously damage the reputation and character of others, and prevent them from being promoted or finding work.

Gossip in most cases can't be helped because we are giving voice to our own internalized struggles, frustrations, and fears. When we speak ill of others, it is just as much a reflection of the battles we're having with our own demons, and the fear that we're losing our place in our communities. But it also serves as a distraction and escape from our own personal conflicts. In order to placate those negative energies and insecurities, we engage in rumour-mongering of others, and in so doing, we are able to tell ourselves that we're not as bad as "those people".

Toffelmire writes:

Gossip can actually be a kind of deterrent or a punishment against those who deviate from the norms and values of a group. It's tough to be the one being negatively gossiped about or the one excluded because of a nasty rumour, so the social pressure keeps us from veering too far away from the group. Positive gossip can also encourage cooperation among people in a group.

The frustration that often can be heard in our tone of voice when we gossip can also be a sign of our own inadequacy to deal with an interpersonal conflict. We might have been brought up to shun confrontation and honesty, and instead survive these difficult relationships through pretense. Putting on a mask with a fake smile is far better than revealing what we really feel underneath. But there is no fault in not feeling a warm sense of affection for certain people in our lives because some of it has to do with our bodies' chemistry, our instincts, how we were raised and what personalities we feel the closest to, or maybe it's just karmic narratives from past lifetimes if we believe in them. So, the problem is not that we dislike people. This can't be helped, as it's part of our social/cultural/human-specific realities. The problem is, the environments we are often in do not give us the language we need to express our frustrations with the people we dislike in healthy, non-toxic ways.

Toffelmire writes:

Too much pressure can, of course, be a bad thing, and gossip has great destructive powers. People use gossip for their own selfish interests at the expense of others. Subtle social cues can turn to hostility or manipulation and quickly trigger anger, shame, and resentment.

Resentment intensifies if we suspect that the people we share our personal information and concerns with are using that information to slam our reputations, attain loyalties for themselves from others, and lower other people's esteem of us. Retaliation is our first reaction to something based on suspicion or actual evidence of other people rumour-mongering at our expense. We make an attempt to turn the tables, and start our own gossip clubs, which might involve gossiping about the gossiping behaviour of others!

It's a vicious cycle.

However, in certain situations, gossip-mongering can really damage not only the reputation of its target, but also that of the gossip-mongerer. These situations involve the kinds of work some of us do where highly sensitive and private information is shared in confidence. People struggling with serious health-related issues, or legal issues might require support accessing proper care, services, and resources. Sharing their needs and concerns with service providers places them in a highly vulnerable position.

Doctors take the ceremonial Hippocratic Oath to commit to upholding a strong work ethic for their patients. People who provide counseling as psychologists and social workers abide by a code of ethics through membership in regulatory bodies like the Canadian Counselling and Psychotherapy Association, Canadian Psychological Association, or Canadian Association of Social Workers. In any support role, whether as professional counselors or community support workers, we have a duty to keep the information given to us safe. This responsibility comes along with our choice to do this work in the first place. There is no room for compromise in this regard. If we are blabbermouths and gossip about other people's personal lives and struggles, then clearly, we do not belong on this career path, and need to find something else more suited to our tendencies.

That latter statement might seem a bit privileged and judgmental since many of us find ourselves in these positions as a result of our own identification with the communities we serve. In identifying with these communities, we sometimes get confused about our role, such as when we are positioning ourselves as "support worker/counselor" and when we are "peers".  In my mind, there can be no confusion. If our job is to provide support to our peers, then our peers are not our friends, they are our clients through and through, no matter what we might say to distinguish those two roles we play.

It is easy to get on the self-righteous bandwagon and wag my finger at others, but I am primarily writing from having experienced and learned from the challenges of being in a support capacity. When I started to work in this field, I was not totally conscious of the boundaries I needed to set up in order to protect the integrity of my relationships with my clients. I belong to a number of different communities, all of which encourage close interactions and friendships as models of peer support; part of my helping clients was getting to know them as part of friendship circles and families. Very different from the more Western models of interaction espoused in standards of practice for those in a counseling role.

It's not a bad thing to have clients for friends, but if we are not wary or mindful of our primary role in the larger community, we could lose sight of those boundaries and divulge information haphazardly or maybe out of frustration or stress after a long day.

Alternatively, information might be disclosed to us via these channels and networks. The best thing is to stop it where it's at, and let the person sharing this information know that the story is none of our business and should not be talked about. Some people just leave the conversation abruptly because they don't want to be incriminated and targeted if news gets out that this information was shared. If it's gossip, then the gossip about this news being shared and who shared it will be shared. And we, as the listeners, might suffer an equal backlash for our role in spreading the offense.

These are not easy waves to surf. What others say about us can hurt in many significant ways:

  • Mental Health - gossiping can drive us to paranoia when we are exposed to networks of people who use gossip to solidify loyalties and to exclude people they don't like; when we are exposed to malicious gossip, we start thinking that people are talking about us in the same way; the paranoia can lead to stress from having to constantly walk on eggshells to avoid being the target of other people's gossip.
  • Physical Health - stress can have a destructive impact on our physical health, particularly for those of us who have various chronic illnesses to manage; our bodies often absorb the energy of unhealthy, toxic environments and situations; for those of us who are sensitive to the suffering of others, if we do not have strategies to release these energies, then our bodies will soon be saying NO in various, unpleasant ways.
  • Emotional Health - because our bodies are reacting to the stress of "anti-us/them" campaigns, our emotions might be out of whack and we might have to take some time off for anger/stress management; our negative emotional responses can severely impact communication and interaction with others - our colleagues, our clients, our friends and families, other people in the community we do work with, which could then create more situations for others to gossip about, increasing our paranoia, our stress, and our negative emotional reactions, which could possibly get us fired or force us into handing in our resignation.
  • Job Opportunities - criticism of the way people do their jobs without taking any action to assist them or give them support to improve their work ethic can seriously impinge on a person's chances of finding work if potential employers get word. Read Mary Abbajay's article on the damage gossip can do in the workplace.
We can't stop people, and even ourselves, from gossiping. We don't have to look in our papers to find examples of people defaming others. It's happening in our kitchens and in our offices as we speak. But for those of us who work in sectors that include a high number of people facing vulnerable situations and barriers, clients and colleagues, alike, putting a cork on the rumour-mongering bears a certain degree of salience when we realize we are actually putting our own reputations/survivalist needs on the line every time we open our mouths and ask, "Did you hear what so-and-so did?" 





Sunday, December 29, 2013

2014: Another bright sandy beach stretches before us

A new year is about to begin for those of us following the Gregorian calendar. 2014 rolls off the mouth smoothly, unlike 2013, which required effort for some of us. Most of us appreciate the potential changes and transitions that might come in with the new year's tides. (I'm writing this as I listen to the sound of gentle waves greeting white sandy shores in tropical surroundings on YouTube.)

We sigh at the relief of being blessed with the opportunity to say goodbye to the past year and welcome the forward-moving motion of the coming year. Our sighs echo those gentle waves as they renew hope in our dreams. And our dreams are plenty if we can imagine each dream representing a tiny grain of sand. When we put all those dreams together, it's quite a beautiful landscape to behold - the watery blue sighs uniting with the bright sparkles of hope. No wonder we like to walk barefoot on sand or get buried in it.

The end of the year is always a time for reflection, a way of appreciating how we were able to fit the grandiosity of our resolutions within the realities of our everyday lives. Compromise and flexibility are required to meet the challenges posed by circumstances beyond our control. And this past year, if you read the news like I did, you'd know just how much hardship some people faced around the world, and in our own backyards. Sometimes shrugging our shoulders and accepting defeat is the best way forward. It doesn't mean we give up on our goals; instead, we can use the lessons to re-fashion these goals so we're running (or walking) at roughly the same pace as our daily agendas.

Part of keeping with our resolutions is to know how fast or how slow to work on our goals. Half the battle is in knowing how much we can handle, but also how much we're willing to adjust to make room for the unexpected. That might take a lifetime to figure out as we learn to nurture an appreciation for and understanding of our bodies and our capabilities, the unpredictability and moodiness of nature, and also for the people whose lives constantly affect our own.

Life doesn't have to be a competition. We can locate our own Start and Finish Lines, and not worry so much about the "win". Every self-help guru I know keeps saying it's what's in between those two poles that count. I agree. People who come to that knowing and are patient with the ebb and flow, in my mind, are the ones who can go on to accomplish great things in their lives, never losing hope for what they believe to be their intrinsic purpose.

Happy New Year to my family, friends, colleagues, and the few stray readers of this blog. Thank you for giving me a wonderful 2013. No new dreams for me in 2014, only a renewed commitment to the ones I already have, the ones I will re-explore like a bright-eyed child grasping the sparkly sand as it cascades through her fingers.