Get involved – again and again….

Posted on May 28, 2012 by fearlessanalyst

On the wall in my favourite coffee shop is a sign that says,

“Always hold firmly to the thought that each one of us can do something to bring some portion of misery to an end.”  It moved me so much over the years, that I made a copy for my kitchen where it has hung for a long time.

Over those same years, I have frequently enough urged people to get involved in one cause or another – but I realize now that ‘getting involved’ is a little more complicated than just the phrase.   It can involve conflict, passions, stress, and sleepless nights.  Neighbours on opposing sides might not speak to each other for years.  People who put up lawn signs of the “other political party” may even make us feel threatened.   Many volunteers start out feeling motivated, and once involved, become disappointed in the organization, or discouraged by people.  So I have a few pieces of advice for the cause-weary.

One is to maintain  perspective.  For example, your community’s spirit is more important in the long run, than the heritage house you’re fighting over.

I find it helps to keep reminding myself that if someone yells at me in anger, he is probably afraid.   And sometimes we can even talk about that fear, and reduce it.

Disappointment in your chosen cause and how it’s run or who’s in charge, need not turn you off causes in general.  You are needed, so just move on.  I see nothing wrong with moving on many times if necessary, until you find the ’cause of your dreams’.   Perhaps it will simply be helping someone learn English, or reading to a blind person, or listening to someone who needs to talk.   If you are uncomfortable with people, you can make a difference delivering flyers or stuffing envelopes – or writing a blog.

Perhaps you’d be more comfortable in the realm of ideas – e.g. policy development in an anti-poverty organization.   I must say some of my best education on world events resulted from my years in the peace movement, working with some wonderful minds.

Sure, take a break from a disappointment; but think and reflect and then get back in the game.  You are needed.  You will make a difference.  You are not doing this in hope of some vague,  elusive ‘happiness’ – but you will be enriched.  And I am sure you’ll help bring some portion of misery to an end.

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Legalize drugs? Duh!

Posted on May 26, 2012 by fearlessanalyst

A lot of people I know smoke cigarettes. Most drink alcohol. Yes, some have problems resulting from these activities. But for the most part, they know what they are consuming. And above all, no one is being murdered over it, or living in terror.

But in many parts of the world – especially in Mexico – countless lives have been brutally ended, and millions live in fear. Many government officials take bribes, or live under guard, so that this brutality can continue.

Meanwhile, back home, we are looking for new sources of tax dollars. We are building prisons at great cost – to house many of the participants in “drug crime”. My smoking and drinking friends live in peace, while contributing to the cost of running Canada. Many take the risk of occasional illegal drug use. Is it not obvious by now, that we need to legalize, regulate, and tax drugs?

Not to many who oppose the idea. The dominant arguments are that legalizing would enable more people to become addicted to drugs, and it would be immoral.

For me it becomes increasingly obvious that allowing the current state to continue is far worse. It is comparable to walking past a man beating up a child – and paying no attention.

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Seeds of the dream

Posted on May 22, 2012 by fearlessanalyst

In the late sixties, in an era sometimes called “the counter-culture revolution”, I was occasionally a “weekend hippie”. I suspect there were many of us. Why only weekends? Well, it’s one thing to believe in social change, but an entirely different thing to actually “become it”.

I could look back and ridicule that wishful thinking, but that wouldn’t be fair. We were at least wishing for a better world, a world full of love and kindness and generosity.

Being a “hippie” – to us – meant “being natural” (being “real” we used to say). Being real was something new. We believed that until then, people had been role-playing. And they had. We believed most people were “uptight”. And they were. Of course we couldn’t see that in ourselves. Much was published and discussed at the time, about the idea of “becoming free”, leaving behind the constraints of the pretentious roles we had been trained into.

Anyone who didn’t buy into this was uptight. And oh, what faith we had in this new way of “just being”. It was going to change the world. Just shower people with love, and they were bound to change. How could they not? Of course we were not role-playing, we insisted. Even if it only occurred weekends.

During the week, 9-5 at the office, we women didn’t dare to wear pants to work, let alone jeans – the uniform of the “love generation”! But come Friday night, uncork the wine, get out the “mary jane”, subsequently known as “weed”, “pot”, etc – and the loving was easy. I’m not sure the mafia had discovered pot back then, and there was a surprising amount of tolerance by law enforcement for a period of time. The worst reaction might be rolling the eyes and perhaps a comment like “you’re going to get in trouble one of these days”.

We went bra-less – the new symbol of freedom among young women – let our hair flow free, embroidered flowers on our jeans, and hung around on the front steps getting to know our neighbours. “Love” was in, uptight was out. I think we felt that the world would be defenceless in the face of so much warm, fuzzy love. And of course we were dreaming in Technicolor.

I remember that some of us – many in our late twenties or early thirties – would stroll down St Catherine St in Montreal arm in arm and “love bomb” people: smile at strangers and say “we love you”. When I look back, I realize it was a kind of religion and we were looking for converts. Hare Krishna*, dancing and chanting in their orange robes, was one new religious organization that seemed to represent this social value, and attracted many of those yearning for all that lovin’.

It was a period of optimism and hope, reinforced by an era of relatively socialistic governments in the western world. I was among the most hopeful, but all that hope was about to be snuffed out – with extras for me.

Towards the end of ’68, exciting symbols of hope clashed with symbols of the end of hope. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated in April; Bobby Kennedy in June. The Soviet Union invaded Czechoslovakia in August. The birth control pill – such a wondrous symbol of the first real freedom for women – was formally outlawed by Pope Paul VI.

And for me, the end of a marriage, and the realization that my sweet mother was dying. All of this changed, we all faced reality and ‘moved on’.

We have been through a long winter of reactionary decades, that has seen conservative governments prevail most of that time in “the West”. And in the U.S. – the “leader of the free world” – we’ve seen, some would say, the hi-jacking of democracy by Wall Street, with deregulation of the financial world leading eventually to terrible losses and desperately high unemployment through much of Europe and North America. Democrats have disillusioned Americans. Liberals disappointed Canadians. The United Nations disappointed those who hoped for peace, as NATO became the world’s dominant “policeman”. Certainly “hope” has not dominated in recent times.

But tiny signs of those old dreams of loving and caring are ever so quietly beginning to bloom. The seeds of hope are not dead. France has just thrown out Sarkozy, in favour of a socialist government. Republicans are losing favour in the U.S., Canadians are looking at their NDP with more respect and interest than ever before. And the “Occupy” movement shows signs of becoming the new “counter-culture revolution”.

What gives me even more hope is those baby boomers from the sixties, now retiring. They are healthier and more ‘conscious’ than previous generations upon retirement, and are looking for meaningful activities in their lives. They want to make a difference, and they can. While our parents’ generation might have idealized lying around on a beach on their retirement, many in the ‘boomers’ generation would be bored to death by that idea. And they have matured. They know that social change is slow, takes patience, and that dreams of loving and caring are not to be ridiculed. They make life worth living.

As for me, my sweet mom’s values and attitudes live on in me; I am lucky enough to live in an amazing, progressive community; and I have nothing better to do for the rest of my days, than to try to change the world. And the best part: I am surrounded by wonderful people who are doing the same thing in their own way. Yes, the dream lives on.

*http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/under-god/post/after-hare-krishna-visits-mad-men-hinduism-enters-american-mainstream/2012/05/21/gIQAlqhcfU_blog.html

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We all have something worth sharing.

Posted on May 19, 2012 by fearlessanalyst

It’s so much easier to see flaws in others, to see how they need to change, than to see ourselves. I can spot a critical-judgmental response in a friend or relative, and have a hard time noticing it in myself. No doubt this is why it’s so hard to change. And no doubt this is a common cause of conflict between people.

Our built-up defences make it hard to bend, hard to admit wrongs, hard to say we’re sorry, hard to ‘make amends’ and we certainly can’t do any of that if we aren’t even aware of our sometimes offensive impact on others. It’s a mad cycle: we become that way in reaction to feeling judged, criticized, perhaps rejected, from an early age – then we turn around and inflict the same kind of attitude on others – including those we love.

But we reserve our strongest critical-judgmental attitudes for ourselves, reinforcing how we have always felt: inadequate. One way to begin changing might be to work at breaking the habit of judging and criticizing ourselves. It’s a lot like breaking or developing any habit: practising; reminding ourselves, etc.

In my case, this has made it possible recently to begin blogging, and speaking in front of groups. A large part of this first step, has been trying to accept my flaws, accept my right to be imperfect, accept my right to impress no one.

I waited most of a lifetime, postponing sharing until some imaginary day in the future when I would be adequate. Now at last, I realize I can share my very inadequacies, my learning experiences, my new insights and epiphanies.

And this has been one of them …. ? 🙂

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The ‘new normal’

Posted on May 19, 2012 by fearlessanalyst

Years ago, during my last therapy session with a well-known psychiatrist, I asked her if she had ever known a “normal” person. She looked puzzled, and slightly annoyed. “I mean someone who has no neuroses, no issues, needed no therapy?” I explained. She couldn’t think of anyone.

These days, I don’t need to ask, because I am convinced (but tentatively as always) that there is no “normal”. There is simply a human spectrum. And each of us is somewhere on that spectrum. In my experience, this applies to just about every aspect of who we are – from gender, to sexual orientation, to taste in music, art, clothing, colours we respond to, favourite activities or interests – the categories are endless.

It even applies to what I affectionately refer to as ‘quirks and foibles’. Everyone has them – from the acquaintance who can’t stand the sound of people chewing food, to a variety of behaviour tics, to people who have a compulsion of some sort – like nail-biting, or a compulsion to straighten any wrinkled cloth, or someone who hears voices (perhaps 10% of the population). In my case, if you watch carefully you might notice my fingers moving: they are “typing” most of my thoughts…

For my taste, the only scary people are those who would have us all exist on their preferred spot on that spectrum. This would be like trying to build a prison for the human race.

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PERSONAL POWER…

Posted on May 17, 2012 by fearlessanalyst

When you buy a small appliance or any technological gadget – a computer, a cell phone etc – the instructions include a requirement to keep the packaging it arrived in.

If I followed these instructions to the letter, I would need a room just for the boxes and Styrofoam padding from everything that has arrived in my home in the past few years.

The rationale is that if I need to return the item for repairs, it will be “properly packaged” for the trip. Otherwise, any problem that occurred during the shipping would nullify ‘guarantees’.

As I struggled recently with the question of what to do with my now large pile of packaging, I found myself wondering if everyone conforms to this requirement. Was I the only person looking around and wondering what to do?

I have begun lately, whenever possible, to ask the merchant to remove the packaging and keep it. This is easy with, say, shoes. But with some of the clear, hard plastic containers, it takes more persistence. The clerk generally has to find a serious cutting instrument – which also makes the point of how difficult it is to remove the packaging. I explain that I have no way of removing it at home.

Taking this small action eliminates my chronic angry reflections along the lines of “Why don’t they….” Or “They ought to….”, and then depression from feeling powerless to influence change. Now I take action, peacefully. Oh, and I talk about it and write about it.

Now my anger is only occasional and very mild. I use it to fuel my creativity instead of defeating myself and accepting powerlessness. Funny thing about action.

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Community = Inclusion

Posted on May 11, 2012 by fearlessanalyst

People in mental or emotional distress need human nurturing and other kinds of personal support, yet often end up isolated. This can conceivably slow any potential healing process and make things worse for both the person and the community.

But I have a dream, to paraphrase the late Martin Luther King Jr, of a ‘community’ that gives the concept real, and deep, meaning. It is a dream of inclusion: Part of the community’s ‘meaning in life’ would be a nurturing human relationship with all the residents, intentionally and purposefully including those in distress.

My dream would eliminate isolation for starters. Each small neighbourhood would have a voluntary ‘association’ of interested individuals who would take on the more formal activities of regular contact – as opposed to random. The group – what some might like to call ‘the caring circle’ – would continuously keep up with learning about the individual’s issues (or if it were a small group home – the group’s issues). In turn, they would share the learning with the neighbours – through meetings, emails, etc. They would also receive any concerns neighbours might have, and help resolve any conflicts.

Modern technological advances would make it possible to take care of some of the once tedious aspects of such a relationship such as paperwork, appointments, and communication.

Members of the caring group would maintain daily contact with the individual/group; would learn helping skills – including conflict resolution, mediation, communication, support – as well as picking up other knowledge such as understanding an individual’s food preferences (e.g. vegan). Some would help with such concrete activities as taking a person food-shopping or finding alternate accommodation, for example.

These voluntary functions would go far beyond the kind of activities currently covered by various government agencies. One of the functions that government sponsored professionals seldom have time for, for example, is ‘active listening’. Neighbours can be trained in this skill and, in the process of nourishing a distressed individual, find themselves enriched, and their loved ones nourished as well. And for those who yearn to ‘live’ their religious beliefs, what better way than to actually act with compassion.

The ‘inclusion movement’ so far appears to be primarily focused on people with physical disabilities. This tends to involve a lot of practical, concrete activities such as organizing wheelchair ramps or transportation. It’s been important to influence cities to make accommodating changes in this direction, so that people with physical disabilities can more easily participate in everyday activities.

But people tend to be less comfortable with those in mental distress or with mental ‘disabilities’. There is something threatening about unpredictable behavior or appearance, and without knowledge or training, people avoid such discomfort.

In my dream community, the volunteers would take on the task of, first, becoming knowledgeable and then becoming active, and sharing all with the community. In line with the philosophy “be the change you want to see in the world”, I hope to nudge my own community in this direction.

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Open = Danger?

Posted on May 7, 2012 by fearlessanalyst

How open can I be? What are the dangers?

Is being open a little like standing out on a balcony and shouting out to the world a plea to be rescued from myself?

Is being open a pretense, a wish to be ‘discovered’ – forever an unmet need thanks to an unresponsive father? Worked through, over and over, in different experiences, different scenarios, forever?

“A failure to attach”. Such a simple concept – But it can rain slush, forever.

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Father soup….

Posted on May 7, 2012 by fearlessanalyst

“Darkness brings home fathers, with their real, unspeakable power.”
– Margaret Atwood, Cat’s Eye.

In his book The Measure of a Man, J.J. Lee refers to the idea that the more we try not to be like our father, the more we are like him.

We learn more every decade about “fathering”, about father-impact….
(We give so much more attention to mothering)….

Thus the theory, for example, that we “marry our fathers”. My own experience supports the idea, but what does that mean? It means we marry someone who acts a lot like our father — or who makes us feel the way our father made us feel.

Sometimes, if we’re “conscious” of such theories, we intentionally marry someone who, on the surface at least, is the opposite to our father…and believe we have cleverly avoided the typical. But perhaps we deceive ourselves…

In the case of my first husband, I was only 20 when we met, and I suspect I was unconsciously attracted to a feeling of being affectionately fathered – something I didn’t experience with my own dad. Peter was 13 years older than me, ex-British army, moustache. You could say a symbol of authority. Or ‘fatherness’?

Years later, after we had divorced and when I had learned a little about relationships and their implications, I decided he was a lot like my father, but on the other hand, he sometimes defended me emotionally from my dad. This was a good thing from my point of view, as I had never learned how to protect myself. I was intimidated by any hint of dominance – unfortunately this applied to my husband too. The only speaking up I did in those days was in my diary. (My father was never physically abusive – just very critical-judgmental.)

I began to gain self-confidence, however, through the experience of being appreciated by, and eventually leaving Peter. I had a crush on someone who could be seen as the opposite to my father – and to Peter, though I didn’t see that at the time. Michel was immature, self-indulgent, a womanizer, and most of us saw him as sexy. In fact, he was a veritable symbol of freedom and sexuality, which I yearned for unconsciously.

That crush didn’t turn into a relationship, but it did lead me out of my marriage. A series of relationships in a similar pattern followed.

When I married my husband of today, I had lived with him for almost two years, and was so sure he wasn’t “my father”. And now, almost forty years later, the reality slowly becomes obvious and I come to recognize my father in him — and in myself. Personal truths dawn so slowly.

During those decades in which I thought my male partners were ‘my father’, I believed that I was only like my mother. Only in the past few years have I come to see some of my father too when I look in the mirror. And feel some of his psyche when I look into my soul…

I believe that we generally have both sides – ‘positive and negative’ – of a characteristic. In my case, for example, I was both intimidated by and afraid of judgment on one hand, but judgmental and critical on the other. And I find that the more I leave behind my critical-judgmental characteristic, the less easily intimidated I am, and the more comfortable and accepting I am – even of aggression: it seems easier to let the growl belong to the growler, and feel peace in the face of it. So just as the characteristics are two-sided, so is the evolutionary process.

In the end, I find myself thinking that nothing in life is so simple that we can just blame issues on a parent. Father soup is also mother soup, and just plain life soup.

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Quick adjustment

Posted on April 20, 2012 by fearlessanalyst

It didn’t take long to realize that three separate blogs were ridiculous, so I merged my “World Class City” with this blog, and here I am. There is only so much time in the day, and if I spend any of it thinking and dreaming, as well as all the other activities that are necessary, then there isn’t much time for writing and editing.

Modern life can contain many choices that didn’t exist a few decades ago — mostly good choices. The trouble with having all those choices is – you have to choose!

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