Earth Hour, I Celebrated

Over the course of the years the reminders come around differently. In this year’s case, my little pal, Faria aka “Butterfly” reminded me by text.

It came as no surprise when I looked out at 8:30pm on Saturday, March 25, 2017, that the city that lay before me, was still awake.

I sat in solitude with peace around me. Candles flickered. The stillness of my breath ambient with my heart beating as one. I am one. One person.

Twitter popped into my head. Biz Stone’s book "Things A Little Bird Told Me" had kept me up one night. To finish it.

In London, the Buckingham Palace’s Royal Family had turned off the lights. How wonderful. Busy city blocks catapulted into the sphere marking this day, all over the world by turning off the switches. Videos to prove it.

While we are one, as individuals, so too is our World. Our Global community. We all share the air. What we put out, we breath in. Everywhere. From every country. From everyone.

--> Think about that and how our mere survival depends not only on the air, but the water we drink and the food we eat. All of which wouldn’t exist without air. Our air. Our World's air. 

Yoga and You

Cob House Building on Cortes Island (this wall was straw!)

Did my first yoga class since I can’t remember when yesterday morning. It felt great!

I was careful. Allowing my body to guide my ability.

Throughout I kept asking myself,

“Why don’t you do this everyday?”
Years ago I cycled over to Cortes Island to learn how to build a Cob house. Mud and straw and lots of stomping.
I’ll leave it at that.

The teacher offered to share her daily practice.

Something she did EVERY morning before breakfast.
Even before coffee. A habit like brushing your teeth. Except it takes a little longer.

Bravely, I joined in. It was a routine of movements. Mostly yoga. Once done you felt so alive. So awake. So balanced.

The memories strolled through my mind today. I was so grateful to of been able to do a yoga class yesterday (see Broken Wings). Lovely Laura, our dear family friend greeted me as I went in. This was a class I’d never done.

“Lots of breathing,” she said assuredly.

I was ready.

In the past yoga has awakened dark emotions in me. Resulting in tears.

This class brought me healing.
We were asked to focus on one word. Mine was peace.

In concluding the class the teacher sang a mantra. Later, I was to discover it was a healing song.

Feels like I’ve rekindled the yoga and me. How about you?

I’m wondering if you’ve done a yoga class recently?

The World Listens

It’s a snowball affect. Sooner or later when everyone knows. When it’s something of a devastation that is, people come together. All ages, every type. For the good of humanity. 

Needless to stay, the culmination of events over the last week in Japan is again – bringing the world together.

To be one.

Yet while the media blares despair at the same time stories of hope, confusion and unrest mounts elsewhere.  

What we see is what we get. Is it really what is?

Unspoken truths lay behind each scene. Do we really know the whole story?

While shaking with disbelief over nuclear waste threats, civil wars mount. Posed by fear, some of us sit back calm.

In concern, I worry. While we hear what happens, we seriously can’t say for sure what is. We’re not there.

I mount a prayer for peace. Every night before I go to sleep.

Do you?

Even now, as I sit here quietly. The boat rocks to and fro. I wonder. Why can’t we all live as one?

To be fair, our cultures separate us. Sure. I get that. But why, until now can’t we all exist with harmony? Do what most in the world are attempting to do now. To help those in need.

There’s a lot of talk about December 21, 2012. I speculate whether or not catastrophic events will culminate. Maybe that will be what the world needs.

For the world to listen. 

The State of the World

Is it beyond reach? 

Fixing the world.

Feeding the poor.

Healing the wounded.

Weaning the population off oil.

Alleviating the wrath of Climate Change.

Eliminating corruption.

Finding a cure for Cancer.

Helping all of the homeless.

Ending the wars.

Stopping rape.

Reducing childhood obesity.

Providing free education.

Repairing our mother earth.

Finding peace.

Really, is it all beyond our reach?

The Heart Outside

Near Store and Herald Streets in Downtown Victoria #yyj.

At times the world seems crazy. People in particular. Even families. Dynamics change. Circumstances engage rifts. At times it all seems unfair.

I don’t let it get to me. I go outside. Get some exercise. Play in the sun and the wind.

I also avoid driving. When time permits.

Took a stroll today to a meet-up with some folks. Along the way I took note of these stairs. They made me smile. I felt the peace.

Some people say, “You wear your heart on your sleeve!”

I surmised... why don’t we all wear our heart outside?

Uganda Wishes - Concludes

It wasn’t my intention when I left Canada to criticize Africa – or Uganda for that matter. Rather to document the hope. Presume the innocent are innocent. Even though I was exploited by veteran visitors not to trust anyone. It turns out, what most said is somewhat true.

Why though? Why is there so much distrust, theft, poverty and corruption in Uganda? In Africa? Aid pours in everyday. Foreigners set up orphanages. NGO’s.

It’s rumoured that profits sit in administrator's back pockets. Lugandans fear help. For each other. Why? Why no trust?

In six weeks I learned how to survive in Uganda. To manage myself. To buy bottled water. To eat cooked foods. To keep my cameras hidden and my money belt inside my skirt at my crotch. To avoid driving into downtown Kampala during rush hour. Full stop.

In the first week I was counting the days. By the second I’d declared utter dysfunction. I was even heard to say, “Africa is fucked.”

But by the third week I’d grown acceptance. In the fourth I was a blended Mzungu. During the fifth and sixth weeks I started to learn the speak and fell in love with a beautiful soul. An African man. A muslim. From Uganda.

Leaving was sad. Very sad. I’d come to know it as home. The early morning sunrises - a cornucopia of colours, lights and sounds. To run before the heat. Before the traffic. To awake with the birds in high treble. The monotones of the garish storks. Always a rooster. Even in the dusk of the still night’s air. Live or canned. Always the sound of music.

Come a Sunday the gospel sway. Everyday early morning prayers. Goats. A cow. Traffic. Non-stop horns honking.

Savvy street smarts when crossing – at anytime. Who to buy fruit from. When to ask what it costs. Clarifying Mzungu or Lugandan prices?

Yes, leaving Uganda has been difficult. Africa is in my heart. But I’ve learned. I’ve spoken to many. Doctors, nurses, teachers, tourism professionals, HIV/AIDS patients, children, teenagers, IT professionals - even housemaids. What keeps these people going in the face of such adversity?

Faith. Their faith. Their belief that God will fight the battle for them.

And hope. There is hope. Their hope lies in stability. Renewed leadership of trust. An end to corruption. Education for all. Skills training. Peace. Peace for stability. Peace for economic development.

But will it happen soon?

At the grassroots level t-shirts wear the words, Peace and stability, or Do you know your child’s HIV status? and Discipline, stamina, knowledge, sills for social and economic transformation…

As I sit aboard a 747 I contemplate again. What can I do? What can the world do?

Unity. Sharing of knowledge. Resources. Spoken from many when I asked for their wish for the world.

How?

A man from the Netherlands sits next to me. He’s an irrigation consultant who has been working in Kenya. He tells me of Transparency International. A public poll of corruption. ID’ing the sources. What’s affected you, by who and how? In Kenya the media is low, the police are high.

Transparency. Will that work to erase corruption? To identify the sources and oust them from power? What if the power is too strong? Like in politics.

I know my wish for Uganda. That people develop trust in one another. To share the wealth. The rich help the poor. The poor know more. Most importantly, for everyone to have an opportunity to learn to read and write. For everyone to have fair access to health care. For the future with a HIV free generation.

Meanwhile, I head back to the comforts of Canada. To a television set. Reliable Internet access. A mobile phone network that can manage the volume. A toilet that flushes. A shower that works. The availability of water – at all times. Power that rarely turns off. The ability to walk into a grocery store and not leave your backpack at the front door. To go to bank machine without a guard with a gun. To walk into a restaurant and not have your bag checked or your body swept with a metal detector. To accept the change as being right when you’ve paid for goods. To not have to lock your bedroom door, your front door and your backdoor during the day when you’re home. To look out the window and there be no metal grates protecting the glass. To walk home and into your front door without a No hawkers allowed sign displayed. To forget about your laundry being hung up overnight on the clothes line and not have to fear it being stolen in the night.

Yes, Uganda is full of mistrust. From the top down. A case of survival? True. But Uganda is also full of beauty.

A lush rich fertile land with sunshine, warm air, night rains, wildlife in their natural habitat and women who everyday look their best. It’s also full of hope. People with dreams and strength to make things better. To improve the lives for everyone.

Peace will come.

It will take time.

Africa will fix Africa.

Staggered Thoughts

Meditation exemplifies stillness. Supposed empty brain waves. No musings. Eliminated ramblings. 

Lights, colours – darkness. Peace. Quiet. Relaxation. 

But wait, the subconscious knocks. It does a noise dive. Something about now. An itch? Or what was – did I really go there? Or maybe - what’s next?

I push away. Clearing. The vacant mind returns. Time idles.

Before long twenty minutes dissolves. I release. To carry on.

Throughout the day I dwell.

The past. The future. The present.

Staggered thoughts.

Speak Solitude

The oars dipped in the water and the ocean gracefully moved by. The stir of the movement like a breath in and out. As I rowed on I noticed a man perched on the bow of his multi-hull. Alone. I thought to myself – solitude.
The inlet is quiet except for the purple martins and the odd drip of the ocean from my oar. The regal silence moved my thoughts.
How often do we slow down, sit down and shut down? I know I have written that sentence before. Guilty of the deception of time for the must do this and have to do that. There is in life a necessity for stillness.
I ponder on in my own silence reflecting on the moment. Can there be such a thing? A life of solitude? Then a seagull swoops by. The air floats along. The sea surrounds. Majestic trees envelope the scene. The tranquility of the peacefulness speaks to me.
I arrive home at my boat and express my own solitude. Moments of nothingness but for the sounds that surround me.

I saw something beautiful today. I didn't take a picture. I glared.

The Butterfly

Embraced a green leaf
Flitters solely in its grace
Viewed by spring sunshine

Passed by but I stop
Entered into colours bright
Mesmerized by peace

No movement is barred
The moment lasts by time
Not passing by me.