Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

Updates

I was looking through my posts over the years with Tarah and came to the realization that even the most mundane posts are actually very meaningful in retrospect. For example, one of my older posts had to do with what Tarah was saying (pronouncing badly) as a toddler and what this actually meant. Seemingly silly but now, with Tarah next to me, a time machine of sorts that helps us spend meaningful time together and remember things that we would have both forgotten.

And this brings me to the reason why I have not written a single post in such a long time. Besides feeling pressed for time, I've actually been thinking that there is nothing "important" that I have to write about. But things, like photographs taken with 110 camera in 1978, become important when viewed through the tunnel of time.

So here are my seemingly mundane updates -- for the record:

1. I am undecided this year as to what will be our summer getaway. Last year we rented a positively decrepit old cottage and went camping into the interior of Algonquin Park. This year, I'm thinking, lazily, that a city holiday (Ottawa, Kingston or London) would be just the right kind of relaxation and entertaining for the kids. So, in a word: undecided.

2. I have been working, very slowly, on a series of connected vignettes, a story in moments. The main character is revealed, as is the absent son, through these short passages. I'm not sure where it's leading or if I will ever finish it. I may be borrowing my friend's cottage for a few days to try and write some more.

3. Work is still stimulating. The dearth of resources and the unrelenting stream of hard-luck stories is daunting. The system only gives the illusion of a single inter-related piece of work. Like farmer's fields seen from the window of an airplane, the illusion is of a single large quilt; the reality is each field is individually owned and used for very different purposes, with only a vaguely common purpose. There is, it seems, no one person or group of persons, who understands how the system is set up and what parts of the system are servicing their clients well and which parts are failing them.

4. Tarah is learning to swim very quickly and, Seth says, she can now ride her bike.

5. Seth attended a video game programing camp at Seneca College and is now off for two weeks. We have seen three movies this summer and this may be the summer of movies for us.

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Developmental Services in Toronto

I have just started another blog as a pared down, non-jargony attempt to explain Developmental Services in Toronto.   A lot of the information in the blog may be relevant to Ontario, but I'm planning to write with people in Toronto as the target audience.
Please follow the above link and let me know what you think or, especially, if there are any glitches with the blog.

What Am I Reading Now?

What am I reading? Funny I should ask! I am currently reading a bit of science fiction by the name of The World Before. This is the third book of a series of six by Karen Traviss. Collectively, the books are known as the Wess'Har Series. The series revolves around a planet so far that it takes 26 years to get there from Earth. So, yes...cryo-sleep is a must. The destination planet, known as Wess'ej, has a native species of squid like beings, a settler race of militarily powerful aliens who are in a protector role vis-a-vis the planet and it's original inhabitants. Additionally, there is another race still which covets the planet, as their home planet and it's inhabitable moon are over-populated and denuded of any other species. And, of course, the story follows the human interlopers, who are sent to colonize the already hotly contested planet.

I believe this author is most popular for her novels based on the the Star Wars universe and a series of books based on two popular video games: Halo and Gears of War. So, if you're geekier than me, and this would include knowing the above games and being interested enough to read about the fictionalized back story to a video game, than you will probably enjoy reading these other popular series.

Traviss can definately write a believeable yarn and explores issues, at least in these first three novels, such as ecological balance, immortality and the tendency of humans to treat virtually everything (living or inanimate) as a commodity to be bought and sold.

City of Pearl is the first of these novels and sets the scene for next five novels which are essentially one long story. So starting at book three and then going back to read book two will spoil the plot surprises you will encounter in earlier books.

Okay, so yada-yada-yada....would I recommend the books? Yes, but with a caveat. I find the story, even for science fiction, a little implausible. The idea that the protagonist, a hardened female cop (even in the year 2039) can become part of another race and then become it's de-facto leader is a little hard to swallow. Having said that, Traviss can obviously write; she has a ton of books published which are popularly followed and the universe she creates in this series is very believeable.

1. City of Pearl (2004)
2. Crossing the Line (2004)
3. The World Before (2005)
4. Matriarch (2006)
5. Ally (2007)
6. Judge (2008)

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The Dictator Speaks

Admiral General Aladeen: "Why are you guys so anti-dictators? Imagine if America was a dictatorship. You could let 1% of the people have all the nation's wealth. You could help your rich friends get richer by cutting their taxes. And bailing them out when they gamble and lose. You could ignore the needs of the poor for health care and education. Your media would appear free, but would secretly be controlled by one person and his family. You could wiretap phones. You could torture foreign prisoners. You could have rigged elections. You could lie about why you go to war. You could fill your prisons with one particular racial group, and no one would complain. You could use the media to scare the people into supporting policies that are against their interests."

-- The Dictator

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My Favourite Swim Spots (2)

I recently went to see the extraordinary and beautifully rendered movie, The Life of Pi. The film is adapted from the eponymous book written by Yann Martel. The protagonist in this story within a story is the curiously named, Piscine Molitor Patel or Pi. It turns out that Piscine is named in honour of a pool which was a social hub in 1930's Paris: A pool which Pi's uncle visited and fell in love with. The uncle's love of swimming got me thinking about all the places where I have swam and how these various pools which I have visited have had an impact on me.

...

In the years following high school, while deciding on the direction which my academic life would take and trying to cope with the disappointments of a lost relationship, I began to have dreams of swimming. I don't want to over-play these dreams, because they were not all that frequent, nor were they all memorable. In fact, I can only recall a handful of these dreams: Chief among these was a dream of me gliding powerfuly and effortlesly underwater. At some point in the dream, I approach a large boulder on the edge of an underwater cliff, I kick it and the boulder rolls off the edge and disappears out of sight into the darkness. So, for what it's worth, this imagined pool of water also holds a special place in my mind as a pool that I once swam in with the strength and conviction which escaped me in reality.

While studying at the University of Toronto, I signed up with a drive-away service to get to Florida on the cheap. The deal was, I would drive a car to Florida usually for snowbirds for a hundred bucks and gas money. The snowbirds would fly ahead, I would meet them in their town and hand off the car to them. The cars going south were mostly luxury vehicles which always made the drive down easy. The motels along the highway were in surprisingly good shape and, even more surprisingly, only cost around twenty or thirty dollars. It was on my second trip down to Florida that I stayed at a hostel in Miami Beach for a few nights. Each day I would have a leisurely breakfast and then stroll a few blocks to a small grocery store, load up on some fruits and vegetables, a drink or two and some Marlboro Lights and head to the beach for the day. Miami Beach, at least close to the ocean, has not changed much since those days. I would lie on the beach until late in the afternoon, swim sporadically in the ocean and munch on treats with not a worry in the world. Later, I would use the public transit to make a foray into Miami to a shopping mall, gallery, or to catch a movie. Swimming in South Beach, who could not love this, at any age?

Back home in Ontario, my love of canoeing, especially into the interior of Algonquin Park, has always dovetailed with my love of swimming. I have gone into the interior (solo), with friends, with my wife and more recently, with my son. Aside from the experience of camping and canoeing, each trip to Algonquin has always carried memorable moments of swimming. Chief among the joys of swimming in a northern lake is the obligatory swim au naturel. This last summer, however, the fact that an aggressive snapping turtle called our bit of the lake home, made skinny dipping that much more, um, novel.

A natural extension of my love of swimming above water was to learn the skill of scuba diving. On one of my three trips to that most slothful of all Caribbean nations, The Bahamas, I went diving to a reef near Freeport. This was six years ago and, despite the fact that I have gone diving off the coast of Zanzibar, was

the most memorable dive I have ever had. At a depth of 30-40 feet, the water was glass clear and the reef was full of colourful life. Best of all, Reef Sharks were plentiful and although the ones I spotted on this occasion were only 5-6 feet long, they were impressive enough in their ability to effortlessly glide with speed around the dive group. Scary impressive.

In 2009, I visited India with my trusty cohort, Anwar Sumar. Yes, that Anwar Sumar! The temperatures all across India were consistently at thirty celcius and above, and swimming ( ironically, a very humid sport) was always a welcome escape. In New Delhi, in Mumbai, Goa and Bhubaneshwar. Yes, that Bhubaneshwar! What Bhubaneshwar? The same Bhubaneshwar no one has ever heard of. A city in the eastern reaches of the sub-continent, close to Calcutta; a city full of Hindu temples built in ages past and still in use today.
It was in Bhubaneshwar, after a long day spent chatting with people I will likely not see again and was, in retrospect, glad to be rid of, I spent the late afternoon hunting down a gallery in town and then returning back to our hotel with my loot. Exhausted, I left the hotel room to grab a coffee and a slice of cake, as it began to drizzle in the central courtyard. I hunkered under the sun umbrella and sipped my coffee, ate cake, had a smoke and waited out the rain. I got my chance to swim a half hour later in the infinity pool pictured here. The pool was all mine and I thoroughly enjoyed treading as gently as I could so as not to disturb the glassy appearance of the water. A great moment that I still remember as clearly as, well, water.


Now we're into the home stretch...The Taj Mahal Palace and Towers is a 105 year old heritage hotel located at Apollo Bunder opposite the Gateway of India. A hotel which describes itself as "offering luxurious rooms and suites with sea and city views spread out over the traditionally built Palace wing and the modern tower wing."
Picture if you will, another courtyard: This one has high walls crawling with tropical greenery and large (palm trees) and small (no clue) plants all around. To one side of the ovalish pool are tables and chairs and further in a covered-but-open-to-the-surroundings-restaurant occupied, on this night, by not one person. The lighting is mostly coming from inside the pool with a few yellowish globes around the pool. It is late in the evening and the blaring of car horns, car engines, motorcyles can be heard in a muted way just on the other side of the walls. If you stood atop the walls on the street side you would see the The Gateway of India, leading to the Indian Ocean only just across the street. And there I am, half naked at the snazziest of all hotels in India. Swimming around in that pool on that particular night with no one but me in the pool....the feeling was pure bliss and I savoured it and tried to fix the scene in memory knowing fully that this was one of those once in a lifetime moments which I could never re-visit or re-create.

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My Favourite Swim Spots (1)

I recently went to see the extraordinary and beautifully rendered movie, The Life of Pi. The film is adapted from the eponymous book written by Yann Martel. The protagonist in this story within a story is the curiously named, Piscine Molitor Patel or Pi. It turns out that Piscine is named in honour of a pool which was a social hub in 1930's Paris: A pool which Pi's uncle visited and fell in love with. The uncle's love of swimming got me thinking about all the places where I have swam and how these various pools which I have visited have had an impact on me.

My very first memory of swimming is from when I was about 8 years old. My father would take me and my youngest sister to the pool of a hotel in central Dar-es-Salaam. It was here that I first learned to swim and then progressed to diving off a board. (My father grew up in Yemen and has often recounted tales of swimming in the sea and being stung my jellyfish and other creatures). The hotel which we frequented was, I believe, The Agip. Often after our swim we would retreat to the shadiest part of the poolside restaurant and order what seemed like a luxurious lunch. Sometimes liver and onions and other times egg salad sandwiches.

A few years after my experience at the Agip Hotel's pool, my family and I arrived in Canada. I was ten years old at the time and we lived in a condominium which had the de rigeur swimming pool and sauna. My father and I would often go down to this pool and then end by warming up in the sauna. For many years after these initial swims, I frequented the pool: Sometimes in the summer with my friends and later, during a time of turmoil in my life, on my own, daily and obsessively. It was here that I began to use the pool to do lengths, oggle middle-aged women and watch the snow-flakes outside while I swam in the relative warmth of the pool. It was also here that I began to close my eyes and float on my back and, for a few moments, exist without effort. I also began to execute a move: the move that involves spinning in the water. The spin always gives me a sense of being a part of the water...it is a move of pure contentment, sensual, luxuriating.

Later, during my high school years, a few of my friends and I would gather our money and rent a cottage up north for a week. It was at the first of these cottages on Lake Redstone that another memorable moment in my swimming life appeared. At Lake Redstone, we fished and swam (someone must have cooked because no one died) and we fished off the boat provided by the owner.

One afternoon I went out in the row boat with a mask and snorkel. Memory being what it is, I remember it as being the quintessential summer afternoon in cottage country. I rowed the boat along the shore, left the oars in the water to slow the boat's drift and stuck my masked and snorkeled head over the back edge of the boat and watched. The image of sunlight streaming along the bottom of the shoreline is still clear in my mind. Huge tree trunks, massive boulders and tiny fish flitting about, while the sunlight painted various corners: now here, then there. It really was idyllic. And, being naturally sentimental, I still think about that cottage, on that lake and on that beautiful afternoon.

Next: Swimming at the Taj Hotel in Mumbai and sooo much, much more!!.

 

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I walk the lounge

I walk the lounge filled with chestnut brown chairs
Seeing none empty
I circle back,
a plane with no clearance to land

Tiring of the scrape-thud-scrape
of my suitcase,
I wait, check-in

Why are people who help people
never as helpful as they could be?
I fumble for ID, empty my pockets
mumble apologies

Then there you are
serendipitously, next to me
Smiling that sly smile
waiting for me to notice you

Unbelieving: Why after decades of absence
have we met, like this?
With no chair in sight,
or a coffee worthy of the name?

Nevermind.
We seat ourselves
in a quiet hallway
Legs crossed on the floor
between us the detritus of our lives.

We recount and reminisce
stare at the floor now, then the wall next
You tell me where you've been
we proffer our secrets
layer by layer

Nevermind all that, you say
Let's come back around
to the simple joy of having met.
Let us enjoy these few moments
with both of us suspended
between our separate lives

The speakers declare the end.
In three tongues no less!
We make doomed promises
embrace with no tears shed
until we turn
to go our own ways

 

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Shakespeare's Sonnet 138

When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.

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Road Trip: The Hip in Cleveland

North America is uniquely qualified by the presence of a network of super highways; road side amenities; a paucity of brigands and police road blocks; lack of civil unrest and potholes, to make a road trip the kind of journey which can be anticipated devoid of anxiety. In fact, I look forward to road trips as leaps into open-sky-freedom with my moods and whims and bodily functions as my only guides to reaching the destination.

The idea of the journey as destination also has it's place here: As, if I may quote myself, "The trip starts the minute I step out the front door." Or, "Anything that happens from now is part of the journey." I usually utter something like this in order to help my travelling companions take the vagaries of travel in stride. To put it another way: delays in take off, confusion at the ticket counter, forgetting to pack some necessary item, bumper-to-bumper traffic, must all be viewed as part of the adventure of travelling. In fact, to some extent, I am happier if some bit of adversity challenges me in reaching my destination. The idea that I will have to improvise, finagle, do an end run on some challenge makes the trip all the more memorable for me.

As an aside, and there seem to be a lot of those in this post, I have come upon a list which recalls many of the most famous literary road trips undertaken in America. You can find this list (which includes Kerouac, Twain and Steinbeck) on the Smithsonian Magazine's website.

My last trip to the Bahamas (find a second post here) and to Florida (find posts here, here and here)threw up just the kind of curve balls that cause these trips to stick to the otherwise teflon coated slopes of my memory.

My road trip this year consists of a five-and-a-half hour drive to Cleveland, Ohio. A city which was once tagged by media outlets as the "mistake on the lake." In recent years, C-Town has seen a re-invigoration of it's downtown core with the establishment of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the Cleveland Browns Stadium, the Great Lakes Science Centre, improvement of the school system, general economic revitalization of the inner city neighbourhoods and the emergence of the Cleveland Art Museum as a leading centre for the arts in the United States among others. In fact, Cleveland, once a part of the rust belt, was hailed in 2005 by The Economist as one of the most livable cities in America. In 1999, Cleveland was recognized as an emerging global city.

The chief reason for my trip to the home of the Cleveland Browns is to see The Tragically Hip. Seeing the The Hip in Canada can usually set you back about a $100 bucks and you have to share them with 50,000 of your closest friends. But when you attend a Hip concert in the States, you have the opportunity of seeing Gord and friends up close AND for virtually a quarter of the the price. My wife and I went to Cleveland one year, before the kids came along, and saw them at a club which had room for about 500 people. It was an exhilarating and memorable experience.

And so, on November 2nd, I plan on pointing the car westward and enjoying a short ride on the open road, arriving in Cleveland in the afternoon and then making my way to the House of Blues in the evening to dance for a few hours with fellow Canadians and some Americans to the beat of some classic Hip songs and some new ones from their recently released Album. And that must be the longest sentence I have ever written!

For the second day, the plan is to go back downtown, take in the flavour of the city with a walking tour and visit the Cleveland Art Museum. And, as a seredipitous bonus, the museum will be opening it's doors for the first time for an exhibit of the works of William Johnson. I have always admired Johnson's work for it's vibrant colours, simplicity of presentation and the sometimes sweet and sometimes saddening subject of his paintings. In fact, the art work shown with this post (Little Sweet) is one I have up on a wall in my house.

Johnson (1901 - 1970) has been described as a "pivotal figure in modern American art. A virtuoso skilled in various media and techniques, (who) produced thousands of works over a career that spanned decades, continents, and genres."

The third day of the trip, November 4th, consists of a ride back towards Toronto, with a stop over at the outlet mall in Niagara Falls, NY, to visit the JCrew, Gap and Burberry stores. I will post along the road, so stay tuned and....thanks for reading.

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How to Bounce Back

I've lifted the following article from Bobbi Emel's blog -- thebounceblog. Emel is a psychotherapist whose self-asserted passion is to "help readers bounce back from life's challenges - the big ones as well as the little ones that trip you up on a daily basis.

Spread from EMILY LOVES TO BOUNCE by Stephen Michael King

Want to bounce back better and faster when life hits you with unexpected surprises?

Here’s a quick list of some of the most useful tips to get back on your feet.

1. Acknowledge what is in front of you. If you’re in the middle of a bad situation, it’s time to really see what is happening. You must be completely honest with yourself – no more denial or wishful thinking that it will get better. Strip away the intense emotion from it, identify the problem, and accept that it is reality.

2. Realize that change is always going to be in your life.

You struggle against change. You waste a lot of energy making sure that things stay the same in your life. Save your energy for better things and accept that change truly is a normal part of life. Expect it.

3. Learn to be an optimist.

Optimism and pessimism are ways you explain why things happen to you. Being optimistic allows you to bounce back because it helps you focus on the positive and not predict the negative. The web is full of great articles on how to be an optimist instead of a pessimist. Go check it out.

4. Be nice to yourself.

Here are the three keys to self-compassion proposed by researcher Kristin Neff: a.) Stop your inner criticism. Treat yourself as you would your best friend, b.) Everyone has flaws. Everyone. Remember that you’re a part of the human race so you’re bound to make mistakes, and, c.) Practice mindfulness by noticing your thoughts and feelings, but have no judgment about them.

5. Let it go.

Grasping tightly to a belief, behavior, or material object only drains your energy and narrows your focus onto that object. In order to be resilient, you need flexibility and openness to options and opportunities.

6. Have a tribe.

It’s vital to have friends and family who can rally around you in an emergency. Make sure you have a good, stable tribe at your disposal.

7. Look for the silver lining.

Always look for the lessons and gifts that are inherent in adversity. Maybe you’ll learn that you’re stronger than you thought. Maybe you’ll find out how many people really care about you. The silver lining is there if you look for it.

8. Develop post-traumatic growth.

When faced with trauma, a small number of people develop Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, the majority of people bounce back naturally after a month or so, and the remaining people actually grow and benefit from the experience. How? The basics are being optimistic and looking for the lessons in their lives. Give it a try.

9. Find a mentor.

Researcher about childhood resilience shows that the presence of even one caring adult in a child’s life can make all the difference. It can for you, too. Find someone you admire and trust and use them for guidance and loving support.

10. Look at problems from different angles.

Although the crisis in front of you may look dire, ask yourself if there is another way to look at it. Might it actually open up opportunities for you? Are you magnifying it unnecessarily?

11. Remember that you’ve made it through tough times before.

Unless you’ve led a charmed life, you’ve been through difficult situations in your past. And you’re still here to talk about it, so have faith that you’ll make it through again.

12. Think about kaleidoscopes.

When you look through a kaleidoscope, you see a beautiful pattern. It’s so pretty, you may not want to change it. But, eventually, you have to turn the dial. Suddenly there is a chaotic jumble in front of your eyes but then, magically, another beautiful pattern emerges. Life can be like this, too. So remember when things are jumbled in your life that they may be actually forming a brand new, beautiful image.

13. Take a break.

It’s important to refresh both your body and mind so take a break now and then. And remember that it’s okay to distract yourself from mental and emotional experiences like grief and rumination, too. You could use a break. Go do something fun. Really, it’s okay.

14. Remember that you already are resilient.

As mentioned in #8 above, most people are naturally resilient and you are probably one of them. Just because you struggle for a bit doesn’t mean you’re not resilient. It means you’re human.

15. Common humanity.

Remember that you are a part of the human species and therefore quite likely to have some flaws and make mistakes. But everyone does. You are not alone in your experience of struggling with external or internal adversity.

16. No one said you have to like it.

You know what? Sometimes things really do suck. So, just because you need to be resilient doesn’t mean you have to like the situation you’re in. You can be accepting, open, and flexible while at the same time acknowledging that the problem sucks.

17. Look up.

Do you find that you keep your eyes to the ground a lot? Do something different – look up! You might see something you’ve never seen before. And looking up helps provide that distraction that we talked about in #13 as you notice the color of the sky, that cool piece of architecture, or the intricate spider web design in the corner of the room.

18. Simply notice.

Feeling bad? Okay, but you don’t have to buy into your emotions. Just notice them. And withhold judgment about them or yourself.

19. Be kind.

Commit random acts of kindness. Helping others creates positive emotions in you which then expands your sense of possibilities in the world - the idea that there is more than one way to get through your current crisis. Problem-solving a situation becomes much easier and you’ll find that positive emotions help exponentially with your ability to bounce back."

 

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Mecca

Picture of Mecca with the Kabba at the centre. (source: unknown)

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Relax!

Source: Bizarrocomics.com

 

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Sit

Sit, drink your coffee here; your work can wait awhile.
You're twenty-six, and still have some life ahead.
No need for wit; just talk vacuities, and I'll
Reciprocate in kind, or laugh at you instead.
The world is too opaque, distressing and profound.
This twenty minutes' rendezvous will make my day:
To sit here in the sun, with grackles all around,
Staring with beady eyes, and you two feet away.

Vikram Seth

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Ghazal - Sudarshan Fakir

Mere Dukh Ki Koi Dawa Na Karo
Mujhko Mujhse Abhi Juda Na Karo

Na-khuda Ko Khuda Kaha Hai To Fir
Doob Jaao Khuda-khuda Na Karo

Ye Sikhaya Hai Dosthi Ne Hame
Dosth Bankar Kabhi Wafa Na Karo

Ishq Hai Ishq Ye Mazaq Nahin
Chand Lamhon Mein Faishlaa Na Karo

Aashiqi Ho Ke Bandagi 'faakir'
Be-dili Se To Ye Fida Na Karo

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