Tag: help

thanks a lot

This weekend is Canadian Thanksgiving, a holiday that is a mixed bag of emotion for most people, particularly Indigenous folks. I won’t speak to that in great detail other than to say that I acknowledge their grievances against the Europeans that horned in on this land several hundred years ago, though I am grateful to be here, personally.

It’s also a hard time for families, and as someone who has chosen not to maintain contact with a sibling, I understand that from some people’s perspective I am part of the problem. I don’t hold it against anyone if they’re upset with me, and I hope they realize that my job as a parent and the head of my own household, is to stop the bullshit at my front door, and provide a safe environment to grow and rest. I’ve done that, and will continue to do so.

Maybe you get it.

Maybe you don’t get it – Maybe you are the ostracized one, frustrated with your family’s lack of empathy, or sympathy. Chances are pretty good that if you’re reading this, you’re ultimately doing okay, since accessing blogs takes a certain amount of privilege. Maybe you’ve had Thanksgiving dinner at the Herb Jamieson before, or perhaps you’re looking forward to a Big Mac Combo in a parking lot by yourself on this festive weekend.

I’ve done both. I promise you, it’s a temporary vocation.

One thing I can tell you is that I’m grateful for the shit-heeled experiences I’ve had – many of which I caused, some of which were done to me. I’ve been extended some of the greatest and most meaningful hospitality when my life was scraping the bottom.

I’m also grateful that I can provide this home to the people in it, and the people who visit it. I remember what it’s like to not have these things available to me. So, to the people who’ve reached out to me when I needed it more than they possibly could have known, I sincerely hope you are repaid 10x over.

And to those who I can help, I hope I do it justice.
I hope I don’t miss the opportunity.

… PS: If you can have thanksgiving without harming any animals out of some misplaced sense of tradition, or due to a social contract, please do.

service and change

I; or rather, we, have recently been invited to help a family member take on a rather lofty challenge. A change in lifestyle, if I may be so vague – and as someone who has undergone a few changes in lifestyle over the years I can say with great certainty that there is always a blast-radius, and that there are ALWAYS people in the blast-radius.

Those people are often bewildered at the notion that someone might want to improve their situation and they almost always take it personally. This is because change is happening to them, even though it’s peripherally, they really don’t have a choice in the matter any more than the drinking buddies of an alcoholic in recovery would have a say in his or her recovery – though their social dynamic is changing.

These folks in the blast-radius are; in my experience, almost always operating at a lower vibration. Without putting too fine a point on it, they are the crabs in the bucket who are trying to pull someone down in order to keep that person at their level. I’ve been at the lower level, and I know what it looks and feels like. I even tried to pull people down, until one day I decided to escape the bucket myself.

So… I; or rather, we, have been called to service – and you’d be hard-pressed to find an ideology that doesn’t support the notion of helping when called.
And… straight-up: helping suuuucks. It’s ultimately thankless, hard work on the part of all supporters, with none of the glory or accolades when it goes well… so if that’s why anyone’s helping, they’re more than likely standing in the way of progress, whether they’re cheerleading or not.

This situation is no different. There are bewildered people in the blast-radius of this scene, and as hurt as they might be, I have to declare aloud that my act of service is not to them. Furthermore, I cannot take on their hurt feelings as my own. Those feelings are theirs to reckon with… and if I sugar-coat things for them, or try and soften the blow, then I do a disservice to the person who’s actually asked for help. As the old non-vegan 😦 saying goes… “If you want to make an omelet, you’ve got to crack a couple eggs.”

Did I mention this suuuucks?

Without divulging too much, I’ll also state that the folks in the blast-radius have been taking advantage of the person who’s asked for help – and I’m related to all of these people – BUT, that doesn’t change the dynamic.

You might get asked for help.
People on the periphery might get upset about it.
You cannot let them distract your from your purpose – which; in that moment, is to fulfil an act of service.

For me; or rather, us, it’s a scene that will play out over a long period of time, so I expect I’ll get more than one blog post out of it, too.

bracing for festivity

“What I know of my own behavior as a consumer is that it has developed it’s own selfish tendencies, partly as a defense mechanism and partly as an unwitting and occasionally problematic habit, so it’s not hard for me to confirm that, yes – my blind willingness to stay home and eat brownies on the couch rather than put on a nice sweater and exchange pleasantries…”

As we encroach on the season of giving (used here in a fit of irony and humor as we’re all quite aware that this season of giving has been co-opted and rebranded as “shopping season” as though there was a season that wasn’t predicated on spending money), I can already feeling myself recoiling into my couch, here in my safe domicile where I am protected by warm slippers, and even warmer dog, and even warmer vegan baking.

Why am I so reluctant? I may blame the cold, and the cold may have earned it’s fair share of blame, but I know at my core that I am a social creature by nature. And if it is by nature that I am social then it should come naturally as the term indicates, so again I ask myself (in greater analytical detail): what unnatural urge has beset me that I am so keen to draw the shades and hide from the outside world? It’s only the 25th of November and I am already feeling the post-holiday malaise.

Let’s excavate. What I know of my own behavior as a consumer is that I’ve developed selfish tendencies, partly as a defense mechanism and partly as a coping mechanism, I’m sure, so it’s not hard for me to confirm that, yes – my blind willingness to stay home and eat brownies on the couch rather than put on a nice sweater and exchange pleasantries with other people in the spirit of the season, where I will permit myself to talk about myself, but not too much, and then allow someone else to talk about themselves – careful not to interrupt, or change the subject back to something I find more interesting.

That sounds like a lot of work. Even my vague and figurative explanation of what might transpire is a bit cynical in nature, which reinforces my desire to hide.

The truth; however, is that I am resistant to engage with people.
Why?
Because people exhaust me.
Why?
Because people only want to talk about themselves.
Why is that a problem?
Because I want to talk about me.
Why?
So that I can control the narrative about myself.
…
So that they don’t draw their own conclusions.
…
Because I want to be accepted.
And loved.

That’s right – There’s a strong likelihood that I don’t want to go socialize because I want to be accepted. Sounds like a contradiction, doesn’t it?
This is starting to sound like an exhausted parent telling a child why we can’t go out for ice cream: “We don’t have to go out to be accepted and loved, we have acceptance and love at home.“

So we’re back to square one, reframing the same question in more and more critical ways to point out our own unwillingness to change: Is my resistance really me, or is it some mish mash of hormones and laziness enabling me to embrace my ill-informed preference? Knowing that tomorrow I’ll feel completely left out, especially after I log in to Instagram and see the myriad of photos of people I know enjoying a function I opted out of and not really being consoled by the minor dopamine hit that I might get from the half-dozen likes I got on the picture of my dog I might post instead.

It’s happened before. I’ve quit jobs, bands, and clubs in the past and then promptly; as if on cue, felt left out as though the situation wasn’t of my own design.

I ought to go put that sweater on and drag a brush across my head.
God forbid I accidentally connect with someone.

new realism

I recently had my mind blown open after following up on a book recommendation from a like-minded friend. The book is called “HumanKind” and it was written in Dutch by Rutger Bregman, who; after watching a few interviews, I’ve determined is the real deal.

I don’t often furnish myself with the time to sit and read, so audiobooks tend to be my preferred medium, but in any format this particular book challenges the idea of ‘realism’ or ‘being a realist’ – a label I’ve donned myself with many times in my life, by calling what it really is – fatalism. His book pokes holes in ‘veneer theory’ and the prison system, various social structures and regimes, and provides a balanced look at the world we live in now; which it may be surprising to learn, is one of the most peaceful and friendly periods of our short history on this planet we’ve ever known.

The true ‘realism’ is that things are ultimately good, or at least more good than bad, and that the realistic outlook is bleak more often than not. A realistic viewpoint after accounting for the statistics, is pretty optimistic.

In truth, both statistically and as a personal observation, it’s not hard to see that of the several billion cohabitants of this planet, the vast majority of us are doing our best to be the best versions of ourselves we can be, and that we are not inherently selfish or self-sabotaging so much as we are naturally social and communal in our day to day lives – and the broadcast news and viral editorial columns that are designed to grab our attention are actually the exception, not the rule. That’s what makes them interesting. Though as someone who’s spent some time mainlining cable news through the majority of the COVID-19 pandemic, I can see very plainly how someone might get the idea that the whole world is like that, when it’s really not.

The thought that’s forefront in my brain today is the idea that when an onlooker sees someone doing something good; giving money to a panhandler for example, that it would be easy to denigrate them by saying they were giving for selfish reasons. However, numerous studies have been done on such things, the results of which are irrelevant because in the end: doing good things feels good. Of course there’s ‘something in it’ for the one giving, just as there is for the recipient and to cheapen the experience by being critical of the deed, or even just the time & place of the deed, is counterproductive, and ultimately anti-human.

If every time you held the door for someone at the mall, you felt some abdominal pain or dizziness, it wouldn’t take long before the world became a much darker and less welcoming place than it is.

So why question the motivation if the result is good? I’m not saying we should be broadcasting and virtue signaling with our good deeds all over social media, but we should not hesitate to engage in the human experience, which includes acts of service, community, and love.

Training this week has been good – it’s been nice to get back at it in a serious way. At this point; for me, I am not interested in any wasted effort. When I got to the gym, I’m there for a solid 90 minutes (or more, on occasion) and the goal is complete decimation of the muscles. I leave there with nothing left in the tank as a general rule, and I’ve found it to be infinitely rewarding.

Monday and Friday were both a 45 minute ride and a 45 minute weight workout. Thursday was 45 minutes on the bike and a 25 minute run. I had slightly less time than anticipated but I still got my thing done, and Saturday‘s brick was a 60 minute ride and a 15 minute run. Tuesday has become an at-home floor/core workout that really doesn’t take much time, but I often don’t get to that muscle group on any of the other days, so Tuesday becomes an overflow day.

It sounds great to say you ‘left nothing in the tank’ after a workout, but it’s another thing to really do it. In a few short months we’ll be back outside – but until then, this is what we’re doing and we’re loving the effort.