FFT

This world in which we live needs beauty in order not to sink into despair. Beauty, like truth, brings joy to the human heart, and is that precious fruit which resists the erosion of time, which unites generations and enables them to be one in admiration. And all this through the work of your hands... Remember that you are the custodians of beauty in the world.

- Pope Paul VI

FFT

God is personal, but never private. If God is not personal, there is little meaning to faith. It merely becomes a philosophy or a set of teachings from religious figures who died long ago. WIthout a personal God, there is no personal dimension to belief. There is no relationship to God, no redemption, salvation, grace, or forgiveness. There is no spiritual transformation without a personal God, and no power that can really change our lives beyond mere self-improvement....

However, that personal God is never private. Restricting God to private space was the great heresy of twentieth-century American evangelicalism. Denying the public God is a denial of biblical faith itself, a rejection of the prophets, the apostles, and Jesus Himself. Exclusively private faith degenerates into a narrow religion, excessively preoccupied with individual and sexual morality while almost oblivious to the biblical demands for public justice. In the end, private faith becomes a merely cultural religion providing the assurance of righteousness for people just like us.

-Jim Wallis

Repentance and relief...

I find it is not very often that Canadians return to the Lord, crying in repentance of the sins that they have committed and the abominations that they have created. I know I'm also one of those; the staggering amount of apathy and indifference that I hold towards personal and corporate sin is flabbergasting.
However, for the past three days, I have been wrestling with corporate sin so deeply infiltrated into our lives, I'm currently emotionally spent. Crying for forgiveness for the church, for the brokenness of many lives, for the mercy of God to withhold His hand in judgement against us... There are great problems in this, including my own hypocrisy - will this repentance last? Will I, indeed, turn from my wicked ways? and my own powerlessness in changing the world.
The numbers are staggering: 800 million people go to bed hungry every night. Half of the world's population live on less than $2.50 a day. The richest 10% of the world (ahem, us) consume 60% of the resources, while the bottom 10% consume only 0.5% - a 100-fold discrepancy. The world spends $780 billion in the legal arms and weapons trade every year, yet only $6 billion would guarantee every single child on this planet could get a basic education - and this amount is still less than what North American women spend on cosmetics every year. The economic distance between the very poorest and the very richest is ever-widening, making it harder and harder for those on the bottom to ever catch up to those of us at the top.
And yet, the North American church is known more for its embrace of the materialistic culture that dominates society. Sure, we are doing work, on small scales, in varying places, to counteract this overwhelming poverty. But does the North American church uniformly, in word and deed, declare "NO!" to continuing in this unjust manner? We are comfortable in our houses, with our cars, with our multiple changes of clothing, with being adequately fed with overly cheap food, with having flush toilets, but, like the cows of Bashan, I fear, judgement will lay on our heads for not acknowledging the devastatingly poor, and continuing in our ways that perpetuate oppression of the poor...
Thank God for His mercy! However, mercy without repentance is rather empty, I think. And I look at this computer screen, realizing that the fact that I own a computer, can pay for internet access, have the electricity to run the darn thing, and have adequate shelter in which to safely use my computer places me leagues ahead of the Majority. And how, with the God who Sees, can we start to turn from our ways and follow Him in true devotion and worship...

All in a Friday afternoon...

As Advent season is clearly upon us, I am just going to muse a bit of a smorgasbord of things that I was thinking about the other day. I had been listening to the CBC (of course), as they ran a few monologues of people talking about faith. Mainly about losing faith, really. It was particularly poignant in listening to one young man, who, being raised in a very conservative, very rigid, very legalistic Christian family (ahem, reminding me of my own church Family), was eventually driven from it for not conforming to their ideals. Labelled heretic and someone who had lost the way. Which was a bunch of bullshit. He did eventually make it to Bible college, and had many divine encounters with people who did show him there were other ways of worshipping, that he didn't have to wear a straitjacket to reach the divine. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough; he ended his segment by revealing that he simply could not believe the Christian message at the end of the day.
This kind of thing makes me angry; I think it's because I am bull-headed enough to stay with the Family that I've been given, but I know for many, it's a Family that would send them to the funny farm. And that, I find, is incredibly sad. And what's more, I find sometimes that my Family doesn't even realize how it alienates and isolates others; sure, they love people like crazy, and they do their very best, but I can imagine this young man would not have fared much better with us.
This followed me having to kill an hour in a mall, and watching the parade of children going to visit Santa at his castle. As sweet as it was to watch all the excitement of the little ones wanting to meet Santa, you could see that his elves were trying to be as efficient as possible. Loading the children onto Santa, snapping the photos, having a basket for Santa to put letter requests into - all these trappings of consumerism and our 'service' industry all conglomerated together at one time. Big styrofoam castles surrounded by artificial pine trees, candy being given out to the children, indoctrinating our children to ask for more, and more and more... sigh...
This all compounded with a friend of mine who is 'working' overseas, talking about their work with someone from my Family, who basically said that their work was invalid, as they were not pointing to the one and only way to understand Good News. This Family member, I think, probably doesn't understand how, or, more likely, refuses to acknowledge, that Good News changes in different time periods, and different cultures, and different worldviews. But no, I'm afraid that many people in my Family believe that the Good News is completely immutable, that practice and belief must be absolutely uniform, spanning all time and space. If so, I must say, we are already hypocrites, as we fall far short of the original Family's pattern of life together. (Trying to bring this up, however, has always resulted in my being told that I was "wrong"). Suffice it to say, my friend was taken aback, which embarrassed me greatly.
Sigh. All for a King that came to earth and changed history, power, humanity, intimacy, hope, everything...

FFT

Usually, I'm a very big non-fan of email forwards, but this one was from a very sweet friend, and was very sweet itself, and indicted me on some of my own attitudes, so I figured I'd repeat it here:

I am thankful:
for the wife, who says it's hot dogs tonight, because she is home with me and not out with someone else.
for the husband who is on the sofa being a couch potato, because he is home with me and not out at the bars.
for the teenager who is complaining about doing dishes, because it means she is at home, and not on the streets.
for the taxes I pay, because it means I am employed.
for the mess to clean after a party, because it means I have been surrounded by friends.
for the clothes that fit a little too snug, because it means I have enough to eat.
for my shadow that watches me work, because it means I am out in the sunshine.
for a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning, and gutters that need fixing, because it means I have a home.
for all the complaining I hear about the government, because it means we have freedom of speech.
for the parking spot I find at the far end of the parking lot, because it means I am capable of walking and I have been blessed with transportation.
for my huge heating bill, because it means I am warm.
for the lady behind me in church who sings off key, because it means I can hear.
for the pile of laundry and ironing, because it means I have clothes to wear.
for weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day, because it means I have been capable of working hard.
for the alarm that goes off in the early morning hours, because it means I am alive.
and finally, for too many emails, because it means I have friends who are thinking of me. (OK, still not a big fan of email forwards, so I'm not so sure what I think of this one :) )

FFT

This was actually a song sung at Redeemer by its song-writer this past Sunday:

Citylife

they're building higher
oh the skyline looks so pretty from this rooftop
and the walk I take from home to my train stop is fine with me
music plays
and there are dancers on the stage next to the fountain
and statues that remind us of our fathers
so long ago

in this city, we are walking next to millions
in this city, we are walking next to nations
though the city life inspires me, it's hard to see
my name in lights while others fade away

over the river
there are pieces of the past I knew from textbooks
and we separate the boundaries of our neighbourhoods
they're tearing down
and it's a race to get the real estate investment
'cause the land of opportunity's expensive

oh look around
on the corner of the street next to cathedrals
there's a colony of men who sleep on sidewalks
outside
it's never equal
and the children are too young to know such sadness
but when we 'mourn with those who mourn' it makes a difference
for friends in need

-Sean McClowry

New York III (not really, and kind of irrelevant, and I'm not even there anymore)

One thing I've been thinking about after talking to a friend in Central Park is the sheer diversity of the evangelical church. Diversity to the point of wondering how to start really authentically bridging and unifying the Church.
One of the cases in point: I spent (as previously noted) my Sunday morning worshipping in a black, Baptist, Harlem-based, gospel church. It was everything that you would dream and want it to be: people were really praising God with their bodies through dance, with their voices with singing and call-and-answer worship, the fiery testimonies praising God on how He has radically changed lives, and how He deserves all glory and praise for deliverance - it was awesome! It was liberating to feel free enough to worship, with more than just my mind (which is the usual case in my home church), with dancing, and vocalizing and praying! Suffice it to say that I was one of the rare non-black people in the whole sanctuary, and the only Asian in the entire church building. As emotionally satisfying as that was, I left the church wondering what I had "learned" vs only experienced and witnessed.
Later that day, I went to Redeemer Presbyterian, a famous evangelical church in NYC. It's considered "small" by American church standards; "only" 5000-6000 people attend service (yes, I was told, with a shrug, "only" 5000 people attend this church). In many ways, it reminded me of the form of my own church: nobody moves, everyone just sings the song through once. The liturgy was also very structured and calculated - acclaim God, followed by a time of confession, followed by a time of worshipping God, returning thanks to Him in the form of tithes and offerings, gather around the Word and the exposition of it, benediction of the believers and then dismissal. Very cerebral, not emotional. The sermon was really, really, really great, to be sure, but again - it appealed to the rational in me, the cerebral, the intellect. It brought up points of discussion and further intellectual manoeuvring, but did not bring my heart, with longing, to draw closer to God in praise.
So then I was left with two very different understandings of Sunday worship, both of which fed important parts of my body, spirit and soul, but each of which left parts of me hungry. To bring the two together would almost be bringing two planets together as they are so polarized as to how they understand the nature of God. I even strongly suspect that people from my own home church would clearly state that one of the churches I attended that Sunday is less "valid", or less "worshipful" or retains less of an understanding of God than the other, simply based on their form and perceived "content". Which is sad.
Both are doing their work for the Kingdom, in beautifully different ways. However, how to bring those ends together in unity is something that is perplexing me.

New York II

America is an interesting place. Admittedly, it's a very easy thing, to point out the weaknesses in American society and in its culture. It is sometimes hard to remember that America still represents, for many peoples and nations, freedom and liberty.
I think Americans sometimes forget the critically important role that they play in the world as well.
The clash of all sorts of inconsistencies and paradoxes in the culture have been flooding me since I've been here. I've driven by one of the jumbo multiplex superjails, 2km in length as we drove, high barbed wire fences and jail towers... it actually gave me a physical chill up my spine, as it reminded me of concentration camps that I had seen in Germany. Knowing that America holds the highest incarceration rate in the Western world only solidified that queasy sensation that I had. I also spent some time with NFL alumni (yes, yes I did) at the New York Jets training centre (yeah, don't ask me, it's kind of obscure), some of whom had won Super Bowls and had the rings to prove it. The sheer opulence and wealth and just plain old stuff available here is plainly enormous. One thing that people have been pointing out to me here is that doctors can have special license plates so that they are allowed to park wherever they want - looking at the vehicles that they were all driving also made me want to vomit, and made me embarrassed to be a physician.
But then, spending time worshipping for 3 1/2 hours at a Harlem church was incredibly moving. Watching at how much effort the people put into looking their very best for God in His house, the music, the testimonies given and the sheer amount of PRAISE they had for God and His glory was enough to make me tear up several times. Seeing the reality of Redeemer Church and Tim Keller's heart for the City that Never Sleeps gave me food for thought as well.
Yes, the juxtaposition of America: the wealth and the grinding poverty, the worship of God and the worship of money.
Yet, the Americans I've spoken to are mainly protectionist, Republican, conservative and capitalistic - the complete stereotypes one expects from American Christians. Trying to talk to people as to why it just might be biblically wrong to let the poor and the neglected to die because they cannot access health care, or why, perhaps, when America had a chance to truly 'turn the other cheek' when 9/11 happened, allowing the chance to change the destiny of our current world order, allowing the chance to forgive rather than seek vengeance, I've been told that political policy and Christian morality are separate. I've been told that forgiveness in the case of 9/11 was not a viable option, that a religious war was inevitable.
That frightens me. The Land of Opportunity closing itself from almost everyone in the world, fighting "enemies" that exist around every corner, its inability to look at the logs in its own eye, I think, will write its own destiny. My brothers and sisters who can hear a sermon about forgiveness, and the need to die to self to bring life to others, and then can turn around and not be able to see some of the contributions that they have made to cause the increased animosity towards America frightens me extremely...

New York I

It's not often that I cross the border; this is probably the first official time I've crossed the border on a long trip in over ten years. I had forgotten about the fact that Homeland Security is a little over the top; I had wanted to get to Pearson at my usual one hour before flight time, but my father, who was dropping me off at the airport, insisted on bringing me two hours early.
Well, turns out he was right: the lineups, security checks, etc, did take 1 1/2 hours to get through. On the plus side, my passport got stamped with clearance by Homeland Security (I love passport stamps!).
So, New York. The Big Apple. Gotham City. Whatever you want to call it, it's big. I was told about 8 million people in the boroughs that make up New York City. I managed to meet a nice elderly couple from Maine who were also public transiting it into town, so we travelled together to get to the Upper West Side, where I was meeting a friend for a walk and for dinner.
Walking is great in this town. Too bad I forgot the sun goes down by 5pm, so photo taking gets a bit limited. Managed to walk a bit of the Upper West Side, and then subwayed down to NoHo and Soho before dinner. Nice.
It's definitely a busy, rush-rush, money kind of town. We sat for dinner at 6pm, and the place was deserted. However, by about 6:45pm, all the suits started coming in, not to eat, but for cocktails and after-work snacks. What? How uncivilized, to leave work at that hour! I was told most New Yorkers don't get around to eat till 8pm at night, mainly because of the work hours. We then headed to a place that serves rice pudding exclusively. Strange. Apparently, there's also a very famous and busy restaurant here that only serves hot dogs. I can't imagine places like that surviving in Toronto; the novelty factor is a little bit too high - that being said, the rice pudding place was busy! Crazy - how much rice pudding can a person eat?
I'm staying with another friend who lives up in Harlem while I'm here - it's been surprising, as both of my friends' places have been surprisingly much larger than I had assumed most people's places in New York would be - I manage to get my own guest room to sleep in, and I can actually walk around and dance in their living rooms. I am not sure if this is exceptional, or the rule, but I'm certainly enjoying it anyways.

Wiped...

I'm sorry, but this H1N1 hysteria has just wiped me out. We've been seeing, on average, about 50% more patients than we'd usually do solely because of this hysteria. It's actually made me tired and unable to pay attention to almost anything else that's currently going on in my life.
I am thankful that I am heading off on a mini-vacation tomorrow morning, after doing a pre-interview with the CBC for an upcoming documentary series (yay!). That's about all I have to say for now, but certainly, folks, I am not neglectful, just really weary from all the yelling, anxiety and worry from the masses of healthy people.

I think maybe I'll actually be able to see an African elephant now...

This probably won't mean much to the non-evangelicals among you, but I've been invited to be one of the Canadian representatives at the Third Lausanne Congress on World Evangelization, taking place in South Africa in October 2010. This is probably the massivest deal that has happened to me, I think. There are fifty of us attending from Canada and we are representing a broad cross-section of the Canadian evangelical church today; I am only aware who three other representatives are, but I'm excited to learn who else is coming to represent our country!
What is that awfully long name, I've heard even evangelicals asking me. In brief, it's the biggest international gathering of global evangelicals from around the world. This is only the third time this has happened in the past 35 years, so that's quite something in and of itself. Leaders from the global church, predominantly from the Global South (which is exciting!!!), will be there to grapple with the issues of our day, and how the evangelical world should respond in love, mercy and grace, while pointing to Jesus Christ as the hope of all the nations of the world.
It's a terribly exciting deal. It'll be my first time in southern Africa, hence my hope that I might actually see something more in terms of African wildlife besides goats and camels, which has so far been my only exposure to their fauna. It will also tie in nicely as I'll also be attending a secular international environment and social development leadership conference in South Africa in November 2010, so I'll be hanging around that country for quite a while next year!
What was particularly odd, though, was a semi-racist and sexist reaction from a colleague of mine who insinuated that I was only going as I happened to be a coloured female. I recognize this to be partially true, as they had been putting great efforts to represent the diversity of the Church today, but in the context of this colleague, being a white male, wanting desperately to go but not being invited to attend, it smacked a bit of pettiness. Ironically, the other three people I know who are on the Canadian team all happen to be white males who I admire quite greatly. Oh well.

Where the Wild Things Are

I know it's been a long while between posts - too much going on!
I've been mulling over this on and off over the past few days. WTWTA is a beautifully crafted movie, and, as many people have pointed out, is not a children's movie. It is a movie about childhood, and its aching beauty, and the adult sorrows that sometimes it cannot fully understand.
There was much to fully commend about that movie, in its explorations of relationship and family, and in its inability to neatly tie together all the ends and resolve all conflict and sadness. Max is not, as he is asked early in the movie, able to take away all the sadness, for it seeps deeply into the bones, and he is but a child.
The one thing that really got to me, however, is some of the moral ambiguity that is left at the end of the film. Perhaps I need to watch it again. Perhaps I expect the story arc of conflict-repentance-resolution too much. But I found the narratives of the dangers of labeling the 'good' and 'bad' guys, or the lack of consequences for bad behaviour, or the lack of fully good archetypes a bit unsettling. The shifting sand of who is good and who is not makes one stumble as to 'who wins', for no one really does.
Part of our human nature wants good to triumph over evil, NEEDS evil to be demolished and eliminated, but by leaving the possibility open that we simply cannot do this, shifts our mindset. The trend that I've seen in films, by eliminating pure archetypes and adding moral complexity to characters certainly rings more true, but it undermines our hope that there is real Good out there.
Maybe you need to see the film to understand what I'm getting at, but I must say, it generated way more discussion after the film than I'm used to with the people I went with...

Hey, hey you - heal thyself!

It's been crazy-busy here, to the point that I would have to put in my day planner when I would have time during the week to wash my hair - yes, that pathetically busy. It's been a good-busy (if there is such a thing), however.
I am glad to say it looks like maybe I'll be back at a rational pace of life for a little bit. However, that has almost been forced upon me; with all the sleep deprivation, the hordes of worried well cramming the clinic, and the extreme amounts of social interaction lately, I've gotten the wind taken out of my sails by getting sick.
Usually, I only get significantly sick every five or six years, so I was certainly due. And no, it's not the flu, it's not H1N1, it's just a particularly bad viral infection. Yes, I've had fevers, and I'm mute and deaf from all the congestion, but it's fine.
The most ridiculous part, however, was trudging through a walk-in shift, with people looking logarithms less sick than myself asking for sick notes to excuse themselves for an extremely long weekend. Excuse me? I thought as I hacked and hoarsed my way through these visits - stupid idiots with sick days banked....

More than just worms and plants...

The only other living creatures with me in my home on a usual basis are worms and plants. However, I've had the privilege and joy of having two human roommates in succession over the past little while! Each are back in Canada from having been abroad for Kingdom work, back for refreshing and updating before heading out again. It's been an honour having them each stay in my home and offering them a place to retreat and refresh. Because I've been so darn busy and generally sleep-deprived over the past month, one actually thanked me for giving them a place to retreat and commune, as I'd been away for more than 56 hours in a row while they were there! So, in-your-face host I guess I am not. However, it's been nice sharing space for the little while that I've had them!

Seizing joy...

Joy is a funny thing, isn't it? It's a blessed thing as well, and praise God that joyfulness is always to be our lot, irrespective of circumstances. Despite quite a few setbacks already this week, I can still say that I still rejoice in the Lord, that though people disappoint and betray, He is always constant and always good.
I like how joy is this constant little nut, buried deep within your soul, digging its roots deep and wide throughout the fertile soul-soil. So that, even though storms should buffet, joy clings tenaciously onwards, swaying not to the winds of circumstance. And when the sun shines down brightly, joy allows the soul to come into full bloom and blow its blossom petals to the breeze.
Joy is funny how it works that way. I think Bono once said (OK, I hear the groans now, "my gosh, enough with U2 already!"), when asked by an interviewer if he was happy, he answered along the lines of, "Happiness is circumstantial, so no, I'm not happy all the time. But am I joyful? Yes. Joy is constant." Amen.

Boy, I really, really, really, really love U2

OK, as my status update says, I went to Church to rejoice with my four favorite Irishmen last night! It was church, it was a spiritual experience, and I praised God in my heart to hear 60,000 people praising God and supplicating with the Holy Spirit with their mouths (though their hearts still did not know what they were doing). Listening, and singing along with, to some (not all) of the stadium, as Bono sang Amazing Grace and snippets of gospel songs were amazing. I've already written briefly about this (see the posting July 2, 2008), so I won't write any more, but the story arc of chaos, repentance and confession, clinging to the Holy Spirit, and then being empowered to go into the world, was clearly there for all to see in the concert....

Thoughts on the West Coast

I think if I had ever held any illusions about moving out west, this last little jaunt out there quashed those ideas. Or, at the very least, about moving to the greater Vancouver area. I can't fairly rule out rural BC, Vancouver Island, etc, not having been there.
Without a doubt, Vancouver has a lot going in its favour: awesome weather, beautiful scenery, a generally healthier population than out east, managing to succeed in its Olympic bid (OK, I don't think that's a big seller, but some people would), bountiful sushi establishments, etc.
It started with the small, nagging feeling that though their bus route system seems to serve the city quite well (slowly), and the Skytrain is amazing in its driverless cars, rapid, public transit overall leaves much to be desired. I clued into this when trying to figure out how to navigate how to get to my friend's house from the house I was staying at, and the transit finder said it was "impossible" for me to do the trip UNDER 3 HOURS. This was the equivalent of trying to get from Greektown to Lakeshore Village. Incredible. Yes, they've built an impressive link from the airport to the downtown core (only by getting kicked into gear by the IOC), but in terms of shuttling people around efficiently in a city considerably smaller than Toronto, they've still got quite a lot of work set out for them.
A further dart to the heart was meeting with various environmentalists and food security types that squashed any stereotypes I held about green Vancouverites; apparently they don't exist quite as proliferatively or as ubiquitously as I had previously thought. But I think the kicker was trying to do some work around poverty and justice while I was over there. The city itself seems to be designed more similarly to an American city than a Canadian one (this was confirmed by several Vancouverites I spoke to). That is to say, that the poor live in their own enclaves, away and aside from where 'everyone else' lives. I suppose if the city is composed mainly of single dwelling homes, yes, that does already construct the city to housing formats that cannot include everyone. Not everyone can afford to buy or rent single dwelling homes; if this is almost exclusively the housing style available, it cuts many people out of the market. I also passed by a very controversial subsidized housing project several times while there, closed down by the government for 'unspecified reasons', the low income people living there were kicked out of the city, and many people in the community had protested its closing, saying it was a conspiracy. Normally, I'm not one for conspiracy theories, but I couldn't help but notice that one of the Olympic venues was right across the street....
Visiting people, people I love, in their opulent homes, in almost gated neighbourhoods, listening to them talk about how "safe" the neighbourhood was, how "nice" their neighbours are, how they don't have to worry about their children being friends with the neighbours, how all their neighbours were "just like them", how those "bad" people from North Surrey wouldn't be able to reach their neighbourhood because they'd need a car... hearing talk like this broke my heart. I was happy for their financial success, and the utter gorgeousness of all their homes, but wondered about how the 'otherness' was being built up, the fear driving them into enclaves where they'd never have to see a homeless person, let alone a coloured person, and where the heart of Jesus was beating... all told me how where they lived were "good" neighbourhoods for their children to be raised, but I heard very little of how, in being served with 'safety' and 'good schools' and the 'right neighbours' by the communities they were living in, they were going to serve the High King... Sigh. Sure, we're not perfect here in the Centre of the Universe, either, but it certainly was, from an socio-economic/justice point of view, a fairly disappointing trip (it was really fun otherwise!)...

Vancouver 0.5

Well, I just returned from being in Vancouver, and have several observations to make of the city, especially after meeting with a few community groups and some networking being done in between all the visiting of friends. Obviously, I didn't post anything while I was away, so I will, once I get an opportunity. So it's a bit of a fake traveling postcard, as I've already returned, but there's still some interesting things to say...

In a pickle!

So, I just accomplished my first set of canned pickles today! Of course, this is not my first venture into canning, but, not being a huge pickle fan, the thought of making pickles just didn't really appeal to me.
However, having received an heirloom organic watermelon in my most recent CSA box, I figured it was about time to make some watermelon rind pickles.
Watermelon rind?!? You can eat that? Why, yes you can. I figured to minimize the trauma to my worms in having to eat through the entire peel of a watermelon, I would spare them from as much of that as possible, and instead preserve the rind for the winter.
Pickle, of course, is a bit strong of a word when you're talking about watermelon rind, however. It's really more of a sweet pickle, flavoured with cinnamon and cloves, enhancing the inherent sweetness of the fruit itself.
Now, I'm not going to be opening these babies for a few months, so we'll see how that all turns out when I pop open the jar, but I'm quite looking forward to it.
Ironically, the G&M had an article about pickling today, which I didn't see until after I'd finished boiling the jars. Apparently, I'm part of the urban hipster movement that's involved in canning.... humph... I don't like the notion of being an urban hipster at all...

Just put a bit of Alcaine in there...

One of the things that I've been thinking about over the past few days is the notion of character flaws. I mean, we all have them, and most of us are blind to our own, and are exceptionally excellent at pointing out others' faults (the good 'ol noticing the speck and ignoring the log phenomenon).
I wonder, however, how many of us are willing to listen when others are pointing out our specks. I'm wondering this particularly in my own life: am I really, really listening when people are trying to tell me things in a very nice manner? So nicely, in fact, that I don't actually hear the criticism?
I'm wondering this as I wonder how to give criticism as well; when one sees a persistent speck in another's eye, that is so deep and pervasive and repetitive, and obvious to almost everyone else, is it loving to let it fester there? What if you're so apathetic you can't even be bothered to point it out? What if you've tried, but have been vehemently denied its existence, such that you don't want to be attacked any more?
In a particular situation in my life, I've seen the detritus caused by one friend's life, and the non-joy it has brought to their life, as well as others, and I wonder what to do. I wonder what to do, especially in the context of having been rebuffed before. Should they be left to float in their own consequences, until, perhaps, one day they will be willing to hear someone's voice?

Crazy hypocrites...

I was just reading in the G&M today about a former minister in the United church who is on leave of absence due to depression (admittedly, if I was a minister in the United church, I would be depressed about a lot of things, including the direction that the denomination has chosen to go in, and the denomination that I was stuck in). He was writing about his experience of this, in being removed from the pulpit and how he misses the hands-on "spiritual" (my quotations) work.
It brings up the interesting point about mental illness and faith: is mental illness a sign of lack of faith (this, I doubt very much)? Is increasing your faith the means to which to maintain good mental health? Some would argue that if you fall into a depression, then something is ruptured in your relationship with God, and the key is to restore it. Having witnessed this happen to many people over the years, this view makes me angry, by blaming the victim for not being good enough, or not doing good enough for God, to stay healthy.
The comments were also intriguing: Many were saying things along the lines of, well, if your God is so great, why did (s)He let you go into depression? Obviously, your God is not immune from keeping you well to take care of your group (again, my words: I'm quite loath to call United church groupings as congregations).
It's an interesting point: now, I am not saying that that particular denom is at all equivalent to solid Biblical teaching (which it is not). However, it does bring up the point of, "Hey, if your God is so great, why doesn't He bring you down from that cross? Why doesn't He bring Elijah to save you?" The generalized view seems to be that, though the church is also accused of being full of hypocrites, somehow the public is also expecting that God zaps blessings down in perpetuity upon all these hypocrites, and His power is diminished when weakness or failure show up in people.
That doesn't quite make sense to me: Yes, the church is made up entirely of hypocrites, that is without question. We do not do what we say we believe, we do not act consistently with justice and mercy, we are, many times, indistinguishable from the rest of society. I don't think that diminishes the power of God; I think we certainly block His power with our own selfish, scheming ways.
Which, I guess, brings up the issue of Jesus - I would constantly point people back to the personage of Jesus, for He is the centre and purpose of all things. The manifestation of His church in its current form is enough to drive people away screaming, but the fundamental attractiveness and loveliness of Jesus can be the only core that draws people to Himself...

FFT

We can have a democratic society or we can have the concentration of great wealth in the hands of the few. We cannot have both.

-Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis

They always look shinier in the box...

The line between want and need sometimes gets a bit fuzzy, doesn't it? My newest toy arrived a few days ago, courtesy of Apple Co. Yup, they sent me a FREE(!) iPod Touch and pretty flowered case to put it in. So I've been playing around with it, trying to figure out how it works, and wondering if/what kind of apps should be added to it.
Of course, there is no data plan with this gadget; it's completely dependent on the kindness of strangers and their non-password protected internet access (or libraries or coffee shops). I haven't quite figured that part out yet.
However, the potentiality of having internet on the go is alluring; it's making me consider: Gee, do I need a Blackberry or an iPhone, with its never ending stream of internet all the time, all the time, all the time? Do I need to pay for a data plan so I can always check my email every second of the day? Wouldn't it be a good idea to be able to do that?
I find I have to fight that urge: why do I need to be tethered to an additional electronic leash all the time? I already have a cell phone. I already have internet access at work and at home. I also have survived this long without having constant access to my email or google, and I haven't withered away to a meaningless nobody (at least, not yet).
The siren song of being constantly wired is there, however. I think, sometimes, the fetters and chains of constantly being on-line outweighs its freedoms and opportunities. The temptation of new toys and gadgets also constantly ups the ante; people were already cooing over my new "iPhone" (though I had to correct people and say it wasn't an iPhone).
Hopefully (and very likely), I'll withstand the temptation, and quickly get bored with my toy as another daily piece of my purse...

Romans 7:19

It is sometimes hard to maintain hope in the face of mindless consumerism, greed and Western ways of living. Though I was hanging with people who hope to be leaders in sustainable development in their respective fields, whether government, business or otherwise, we are still equally hypocrites in the way that we live.
I flew to the conference, which is near heresy, considering how easy it would be for me to take the bus or the train. Several of us (not me, of course) regularly went for disposable take-out coffee every morning. We used disposable cutlery and plates when meals were provided to us. We were certainly not carbon-neutral in running the conference. I shopped quite a bit, accumulating clothes that were mainly manufactured and transported from China.
My own personal beef was visiting a farm as an example of a sustainable establishment. Too bad that their seeds were supplied by Monsanto, that they were a conventional farm, spraying their strawberries up to six times in a month (!!!! I had asked how the rains had affected their crops and that was their answer!!!!) with Monsanto pesticides, that they wished they could afford to buy GMO corn, but since they couldn't, they were growing conventional corn, and that they remarked that organics are not a sustainable way of farming. Sleeping in the bed with the enemy is NOT a sustainable way of farming. That's all I have to say about it.
So here we are, talking about cultural paradigm shifts, BRICK economies, CSR, etc etc, and we cannot even address our own hypocrisies, both internally and as a group.
So then what? Does hope remain? My hope lies with Him who has said that His Kingdom has already come. We are His stewards to guide it back to its original beauty and splendour. I cannot have hope in man, who buys clothing from half a world away, buys unfair trade policy coffee, and spews carbon emissions into the air, yet says that he loves the planet... we all cannot hope in man, for he disappoints. The LORD disappoints never; His mercies are new every morning!

Adaptive renewal, stakeholder engagement and other jargon

This week has been quite a blur, as I spent it in formation (the French word) in sustainable development, whatever that really means. Throw in a few friends narrowly dodging a bullet (literally), and it becomes an interesting week!
I'll leave the bullet stuff aside, but it's been interesting being confronted with different ways of thinking and jargony-type things that is a bit hard for me to comprehend how it functions in real life. I suppose it's because it's all rather social science and 'soft', and, I must admit, in asking questions as to 'how' this stuff actually works in real life, I had a hard time actually getting concrete answers from anyone.
I guess what it comes down to is that it is difficult for me to see the utility in models and various tools being developed to describe various phenomena, and then have them not be robust enough to actually withstand a real life situation. Venn diagrams, loop dioramas, etc aren't particularly helpful when they don't help explain basic situations. Parsing out your semantics in order to split hairs as to what facet of jargon you're talking about is also a little bit difficult to swallow.
Now, I sound really negative and down on the social sciences, and I'm trying hard not to be, and it certainly is not that it was all a waste of time, but, even when taking it to the streets and watching it happen in real life still didn't help close the circle in determining how these models function!
I will think about this some more, but then have to re-approach this whole idea of sustainable development...

Before the throne of God above...

Prayer becomes increasingly urgent and more pervasive in one's life, if there are things to be desperately appealed to the throne of grace. In the last few days alone, I've been told of people who are imprisoned injustly and being sentenced without trial, of children being taken away from their orphanages to work in their parents' brothels, of those being targeted and assassinated... reports of people that my friends know, love, and work with. People with actual names and histories and families that are personally known by people of the West.
This takes it to a different level than just vaguely praying for 'problems' in other countries and jurisdictions. This makes it personal, for your friend is my friend too.
And, as per the discussion last night, it does make me wonder whether our leisure and comfort impedes us from really living out that passage in I Corinthians that talks of the whole Body suffering when one member suffers...

Why I should pay more attention in meetings...

How does one acquire vision and focus? Organizations usually coalesce around a vision statement, a mission statement and some sort of strategic plan in order to help determine what their mandate is, and what falls within and without that mandate.
Certainly, as the Church, we have that kind of organization and planning: Jesus has clearly told us what our mission statement is to be, and has given us vision as to our ultimate strategic plan, which is awesome.
However, when it starts from the general, applicable to the entire Church, and returns all the way back down to the individual, it becomes a bit more tricky. How does one determine what is 'best' to pursue? Though there may be an over-arching vision and mission statement for the whole Body, how that works itself out in each individual is a little bit different.
Strategic plans are useful in order to focus and train to determine how best to fulfill vision and mission. Organizations determine where their strengths lie, what abilities they have, determine where they'd like to see themselves in five to ten years, and then decipher some sort of path to get them there.
The question is, however, is how individuals get about to doing this. There are many good, perhaps even great, things that individuals can do, all of which may very well fulfill Grand Purpose, but the question becomes what is best, how to maximize gains and to be most effective for Kingdom building. This is something I get the sense that many people are rather complacent about; I don't know too many people who are striving to know what God would have them do. Mostly, though certainly not exclusively, people tend to be rather content to let the days and weeks roll by doing the same-old, same-old, with little thought and consideration to Grand Purpose. I want to be with those who wrestle the angel by night, those who strive to know Who is He that contends with us, to hold on with such strength and grip that they will not ever let go, not until they are renamed and renewed...

My dream job

I know I've discussed this with many people, so this shouldn't be a huge surprise to anyone, but I thought I should put 'down to paper' what my ideal job would be.
It's well known that I would become a farmer/marry a farmer/inherit a farm in a heartbeat. As most farmers tell me, however, it makes much more sense for me to keep my license though, as that would be helpful in actually keeping the farm afloat.
However, it's also well-known that I have a small contempt for many aspects of medicine. So, as pregnancy and childbirth are the bread and butter of my (good) days at work, I would love to continue that aspect of practice. In addition, finally writing all the books I have wanted to write would be a good way to spend the rest of my time.
It's like a mother earth kind of job; bringing forth life in all its forms: vegetable, animal and human, all culminating in creative art. I think there's a nice synchronicity in that, don't you?

Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean...

I know I often have very little optimism for the future intelligence of the human race, but I can't really help it: I face the barrage of the fullness of human stupidity on a daily basis.
A woman had been coming into our clinic quite regularly over the past few weeks wondering why we weren't "helping her". She had been tired for a few months, exhaustedly so. Doctors had already done some preliminary bloodwork which showed... nothing. So I asked her, how much are you sleeping per night? To which she answered that she was getting four hours a night, because she recently had a baby (not that that is an adequate answer; there are plenty of women who can get a decent 8 hours of sleep total, even while breastfeeding). I pointed out to her that anybody, not just new mothers, would be utterly exhausted if they had been functioning on that little sleep for months on end.
Apparently, that wasn't a sufficient answer for her. Nope, she demanded more investigations, more doctors, more answers. To which I demurely declined and suggested instead she should try to figure out some way to get more sleep. To which, as always, she said she would look for a second (third, fourth, fifth) opinion, and left, since I wouldn't automatically aquiesce to her demands.
There are, of course, the myriads of people coming in wondering what those red itchy spots are on their bodies, which, to their amazement, I point out are mosquito bites. I am not sure how we got to a point in Canadian society that we no longer know what mosquito bites are, what they look like, and what to do with them. Clearly, we, as a nation, need to go camping more.

FFT

There is one thing that we all must do. If we do everything else but that one thing, we will be lost. And if we do nothing else but that one thing, we will have lived a glorious life.

– Rumi (1207-73), Persian poet and philosopher

Smooth as butter....

A curious thing I discovered about food this week is about butter. Specifically, who makes butter.
I had understood that all butter available was pretty much only from large multinationals, such as Parmalat and Nestle, and finding local conventional butter would be next to impossible. Organic butter, of course, is always easy to find, and is definitely local.
However, a farmer had pointed out to me that Gay Lea/Nordica is actually a farmers' co-operative, that is so say, the farmers own the company, and they pool their resources together to produce and market their own goods. This is great! That means buying Gay Lea brand butter is actually helping farmers directly, and one by-passes the multinationals entirely.
Of course, this also implies one should eschew margarine entirely. Margarine is a pointless, ugly, non-food product.
What I don't understand is why they haven't marketed that more clearly; in this day and age of wanting more local, closer-to-the-ground food, you'd figure they would be all over that market. At any rate, that knowledge has changed my butter-buying habits from here on in.
Well, it would have, had not I mentioned my desire to find some real, home-churned butter up here. When I mentioned that, one person up here brought me a large tub of home-churned butter. A very large tub. However, she warned me it wouldn't really taste like butter, and likely would taste more like cheese. She said likely it would evoke more of a Heidi-and-her-grandfather-on-the-mountain-eating-bread-and-butter-slathered-all-over-it kind of experience. I haven't had the opportunity to try it yet, but am bringing it home and looking forward to it.

99 to 1 odds...

I have been pondering the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin this past week, after a new friend profoundly rocked my world with their views on the matter. The concept of withdrawing from, or deliberately depriving oneself from the comforts of the horde in order to pursue, into the wilderness, the one who is lost is compelling.
It makes one wonder about how to realign our purposes to true purpose. I don't think I can really do it justice. It makes me wonder where I've been setting my priorities and where my heart-treasure lies...

FFT

Excerpts from an article I was reading... this kind of helps to delineate a few of the reasons why I seem rather non-plussed about my globe-trotting....

Colonialism isn't dead.
Colonialism is alive and well every time you travel from the First World to the Third and come home bearing photographs of sharks and storms and slums, or scorpions fried for snacks, sunflowers bigger than your head, stalled buses whose aisles are slick with spit, and then you tell your friends and co-workers, "Oh man, it was so great, you gotta go."
We call it ecotourism and adventure travel. That sounds sensitive. We think "ugly Americans" are the fat ones on cruises and on package tours - anyone but us. We think we're different because we don't have a stars-and-stripes patch on our backpacks.
We think our motives are purer, that in the correct frame of mind, a trip to exotica means independence and not exploitation, as we come and see and - well, not quite conquer but globalize with every dollar spent. It's easy to say: "My aim is true, my morals are on track," but Christopher Columbus and a million missionaries said so, too. Easy to think it's not corrupting or condescending or anachronistic but cool to collect snapshots of the other, trading smiles with strangers to brag about at dinner parties later: souvenirs....
... Okay, so we - having shelled out to the airlines and big oil and then fouled the air - arrive abroad. Here we are now, entertain us. We're spurred by the same selfish yearnings as every pioneer and pirate and imperial passenger from eras past... Lawrence Osborne laments that there's "nowhere left to go," because "tourism has made the planet into a uniform spectacle," with everyone "wandering through an imitation of an imitation... The entire world is a tourist installation."...
... every destination resembles a theme park at which "you are asked to play a part in the racial memory of others": Consumer. Invader. Crusader. Seducer. Self-hating Westerner. Buffoon...
... But I now wonder whether it is right to guide anyone anywhere that he or she could not find on his or her own. Travel writing is advertising; it's turning foreigners and their landscapes into commodities...
... tourism, as James Hamilton-Patterson writes.. "is an industry determined to embrace you... It wants you to spend as much as you can on fatuous souvenirs; it wants you to do Machu Picchu or the Taj Mahal; it wants you to have the rainforest experience or the Mysterious East experience or the Rose Red City Half as Old as Time experience, and it doesn't terribly mind if you also have the fleeced-by-muggers-on-Copacabana-Beach experience."
First Worlders penetrating the Third World aren't the wild rebels they imagine themselves to be, he snorts. They're deluded children, lulled by the convenience of their own electronic toys and their longing to make the folks back home envy them for where they've been...
... In an ever-flatter world where simply seeing is no longer enough, where adventure travel gets spun into Survivor and The Amazing Race, neo-swashbucklers feels compelled to traverse entire nations and waterways on foot or in unorthodox boats, suffering and sometimes only barely surviving... But even this - even what appears to be anti-travel writing, with its horror stories about power outages and Taliban gunmen and canned meat and house-sized icebergs and whole populations afflicted with what Tayler calls "broken souls" - is travel writing nonetheless. Because in its perverse way, it still makes you want to go.
Go on, sneers Hamilton-Patterson, who has lived all over the world: Ski down Kilimanjaro before the last snowdrift melts on a planet whose "accelerating demise is helped along by the mounting effluent of our journeys."
... Am I saving some tribe from extinction by not looking for it, much less telling you about it? Or am I starving some shopkeeper by not buying his sandals? Both. Neither...

- Anneli Rufus

Looking at the Man in the Mirror

So, with all the brou-ha-ha about Michael Jackson's passing (whether real or staged), along with everybody else on the planet, I headed to Youtube to watch some of the classic music he'd created over his lifetime. Yes, he was an incredibly talented singer, dancer and entertainer, and the contributions that he made to the music industry are absolutely stunning (ie. like Thriller, utter, utter brilliant classic).
However, I also reviewed some Jackson 5 videos, from when he was a small child, and I couldn't help thinking about the man. We all know the stories of how those poor boys, like many other child entertainers, were worked to the bone, and possibly even abused, to practice their routines and shows day and night for the masses. Looking at little Michael, dancing around to 'ABC' (yet another classic), it saddened me to think about his life. His whole life, fed bit by bit to the masses, since he was old enough to hold a microphone. No wonder he got weird. No wonder he was so enamored of children (whether criminally so, or not, is a point of debate). No wonder he lived in Neverland with a chimp. Searching elusively for the childhood, the innocence, the peace of just being normal; something he never actually ever got a chance to do.
Now that being said, a very wise friend also reminded me that another 170,000 people also died yesterday as well, and none of those, especially those killed for rising up against the regime in Iran, will be eulogized and remembered like the King of Pop...

Go watch Food Inc. already...

I've been rather delinquent on this end, but it's been rather busy, being growing season and all.
Yesterday, I went to go see Food Inc., the movie with a friend, and for me, rather familiar faces and voices populated the screen, and, to be honest, I didn't learn anything more that I didn't already know. That being said, it's a highly recommended movie and I think everyone should watch it for education's sake. What I couldn't believe this past weekend that a Sandra Bullock rom-com was the #1 grossing movie. Gross, indeed.
However, my friend learned quite a bit from watching, so that was gratifying. Not that they were any slouch in the nutrition and eating department at all, but it was hopeful to me that they learned quite a bit.
It sometimes makes me wonder about preaching to the choir. I find that most people I talk to about food and food issues already 'get' me; in fact, many of them are my teachers as well. Most other friends don't actually really care about food, or where it comes from, or what it's made of. They find that as long as my beliefs and understanding about food works for me, then that's great. Awesome.
Which inevitably makes me think about mission. It works both ways, you see. Just as many of my friends in the Community don't understand why I care so much about food and agriculture, and see it mainly as irrelevant to the Way and faith, it works in reverse as well. Sometimes, I feel evangelism is more about preaching to the choir; we love Jesus, and everyone else is happy for us that we do, but it doesn't fit into their paradigm, so as long as it doesn't really affect them, they don't need Him either.
Just as I wonder and worry about my non-food friends not caring about how they are nourishing their bodies, and what the future holds for them as they choose to continue to be completely ignorant of what they are feeding themselves, I likewise worry about my food friends who do not know Jesus, and I worry about their future as they choose to be ignorant of what they are feeding their souls...
What I deeply ponder is to how to be the gap-stander, how to build bridges that make sense and how to see God glorified in His creation that He loves so much...

God is doing a mighty thing....

Admittedly, God is always doing mighty things, but that's 'cause He's always amazing!
One thing that always moves my heart is Urbana. The idea of it makes my heart leap. Now, to be sure, of most of the people I know who've been, I know scant few who actually work cross-culturally, which is disappointing. However, it is the potentiality of God's people being unleashed for His purposes which is exciting!
Here's a clip, for the Liberator has come!

Running for office

I don't understand politics very well, but there are various things that both the provincial and federal opposition parties seem to be making much hay about currently. Pointlessly. Particularly since some of the hay-making is health-related, I am particularly annoyed at how much useless rhetoric is being slung around, none of which has anything to do with reality, or the issue at hand.
I am curious, however: I understood that one of the main reasons why Stéphane Dion was perceived as a weak leader was his waffling at being unable to vote against the government, and thus bring the minority government down. He apparently let several non-confidence motions pass through the House without much debate, and this contributed to his downfall.
Um, now I have a question: Didn't Michael Ignatieff just do the exact same thing?
I don't understand how come the media isn't howling at the hypocrisy. Can someone explain that to me (especially you journalists out there)???

Clichés bug me

I'm not quite sure how to approach this. A friend of mine recently told me something about themselves that, for all intents and purposes, is chronically sinful. Now comes the delicate dance of deciding how to do the 'hate the sin and love the sinner' cliché. Certainly, I'm not happy about the whole situation, my friend is perfectly aware what my traditional stance has to be on the issue, as well as what the Community at large tends to think as well. On the other hand, to condemn and be an awful person about it is also not such a great idea.
So, I brought it up as a prayer point in a small group I attend, none of whom know my friend at all, mainly along the lines of how to walk that line. Well. The response and discussion about how to walk that line didn't quite work out the way I was hoping. There was no walking of any line; I am supposed to pick a side and sit there. That to not strongly point out the 'ungodliness' of the situation was ducking the issue. That to not condemn meant I was supporting and condoning the action. Hm.
Well, I had today to mull about it, and wrote about the issue (because, of course, you never really think about how to say things eruditely at the time; usually, you have good comebacks wayyy after the fact) in an email to the ones who particularly are involved. My response to the idea that my friend's sin is a specifically bad one is as such (I've edited out anything that might identify my friend, which takes a way a bit from the flow of the email, but you can probably get the drift):
We all live ungodly lifestyles. I'm impatient, stubborn, materialistic, selfish, self-centred and ungracious; those are (some of) mine. To particularly stigmatize and condemn one sin over another, I feel is not fair. I perpetually live a lifestyle that almost completely ignores the reality of a spiritually lost, economically unjust, justice-deprived world - THAT, I feel, in many senses, is a VERY ungodly lifestyle.
We should call it what it is: Prayer for a friend and how to love him well, love him despite his shortcomings, possibly love him into a new reality and a renewed relationship with the One who loves him more than any human ever could.

Oh, to just pass over...

Ach, it bothers me when my patients' situations really grab me by the heart and I weep with them in their despair. Very unprofessional, and frankly, very self-indulgent - it's not exactly very helpful to you when your health care provider is as upset about your situation as you are.
However, my encounter with one of my families hit very hard with this recession has struck me today, more than the others that have come over the past few months; they have already lost their home, had to sell many of their appliances, have had creditors hounding them with phone calls at work and at home, and are considering personal bankruptcy. They are fearful that they will not be able to provide for their children and have them subsequently taken away from them. They've had to use a food bank for the first time in their lives, and dad cannot even bring himself to say the word "food bank". For various other reasons, they really are alone and afraid.
It's a world I, and the vast majority of my friends, barely ever touch. We don't understand want; sure, we may be short of cash, so we have to go to Tim's, rather than Starbucks, but we are not in danger of falling behind in the rent or the mortgage payments or in being unable to afford a landline, let alone a cell phone plan and internet access.
But this, this is a completely different beast. Despair and fear are not words I hear in my social circles, but they are being whispered under the doors of many other houses. I almost wish I had a paintbrush, and could paint the protective blood over their doorways, to keep hunger and poverty and despair from their homes...

Navigating through...

Received some cool news today: I've been accepted into the LEAD Fellowship program. It's a secular international program to develop leaders in the realms of environmental, social and economic sustainability. I'm looking forward to the stretching and training that I'll get from participating in this program over the next 18 months! It culminates in an international conference in South Africa next year, which will hopefully coincide with several other meetings and gatherings in that part of the world at the same time.

China IX

I can say this now, as I am no longer there, but China is not a communist country.
I have mentioned before the staggering economic discrepancies here. That is not a communist ideal. Nor is the lack of taxation of all except for the very rich, the lack of medical care, the lack of job security, nor the lack of communal provision one for the other. No equity in education or in gender relations. No equity between people groups. No equity in religious beliefs.
It is a markedly more capitalist society than, dare I say, even America. If you are left behind, there is no social safety net to catch you. If you make it, with your guanxi, then good for you! If you don't, well, that's just too bad for you, you and your family will not catch up for generations...
Now, I'm not saying that this is necessarily a bad thing, per se, but to pretend that the country runs under communist ideals and rule is a joke. If, in the pursuit of wealth and gain, many are left behind, then to pretend that the nation works under communist ideals should be left behind. It would likely be more honest to say that it is not the People's Republic of China, which implies communist, democratic ideas, but should find some name that would better reflect it's capitalistic, intensely centralized power structures instead...
I'm sorry if these few posts seem rather incoherent, but after being in transit for 25 hours, and being terribly jet-lagged, I suppose they are not as erudite as they could be...

China VIII

Traffic rules are illusory, at best, in China. Similarly to many other countries in the Global South, lane markings are optional, as are traffic lights. Speed limits are variable, depending on who's driving. Crossing the street becomes a bit like Frogger. One difference that I have noted, though, is the relative smoothness that this all occurs in. One friend mentioned it is the Taoist qi concept, of balancing pulling and pushing, flowing and going. Which is true: here, while crossing multiple lanes on a highway, you really aren't putting your life into your hands, as the vehicles will give way, instead of trying to run you down in many other countries. There is a hierarchy of who moves into empty spaces first, and vehicles and people defer to that hierarchy, instead of complete anarchy that I've seen in many other contexts. There is order in this disorder...

China VII

The one and only meal I had helped to cook in China was actually chicken and dumplings. I had insisted that we should get fresh chicken, as I'm a bit concerned about buying meat lying out on a room temperature counter all day. So, off to the market we went, and selected a squawking, feathery chicken. I got to watch the whole killing and de-feathering of the whole animal, which was very intrinsically interesting to me. We had requested that they gut the animal as well, and it did seem that the butcher removed some of the internal organs. Much to my chagrin, when we got home, I noticed, oh, intestines and gall bladders and lungs in the chicken. Seems like they removed nothing from the chicken innards at all.
Which is where I got involved in the dinner making process, which basically was to eviscerate the chicken by hand. I suppose I got this job by default since it was I who insisted on a fresh, live chicken for dinner, and since my line of work makes me less queasy about manipulating internal organs. Thank goodness for anatomy class! So I had to cut out all of the abdominal organs, and then the thoracic ones. Cut the aorta along the way, so the heart started spilling blood over all the pleural viscera, which was no good. At any rate, I got her relatively cleaned up, and then we boiled her up and ate her.

China VI

Pandas, though incredibly adorable, have no good reason as to why they have still managed to survive and not go completely extinct. If it wasn't for their extreme cuteness, I think they likely would've disappeared a while ago, as humanity just wouldn't have had the interest in saving a non-cute species.
Seriously; their mating rituals are appalling and have a poor success rate, and the very fact that pandas reproduce at all is a small miracle - most pandas today are conceived through artificial insemination. They are born prematurely, without ears, eyes or fur. They count on their mothers for caring for them for the first few months they have no eyes or ears. However, first time mothers are usually so surprised that this thing comes out of them (as they never realize that they are pregnant), they will sit on it, eat it, or bat it around until it dies.
Furthermore, though they are designed to be carnivorous (and, in fact, they sometimes will eat carrion if it's available, or their babies), they have decided that they are only able to eat a few specific species of bamboo. And, of all the bamboo that they eat, they only extract 7% of the nutritional content of the bamboo, so they need to eat kilograms of the stuff in order to get enough nourishment for the day.
So, they can't procreate, they can't gestate, they don't have maternal instincts, they don't eat efficiently... but they are so darn cute, you just want to hug one...

China V (interrupted, of course, by Big Brother)

Well, courtesy of the Great Firewall, I wasn't able to access my blog for the rest of my time in China, and, as I have just arrived back in Canada again (the True North strong and free), I will finish up my postings from here - a bit less authentic, as I am no longer in the actual country, but hey...
I believe I have discussed the issue of the insidiousness of Coca-Cola branding globally. China is no different. Here, Coca-Cola has been translated to "Ke Kou Ke La", which literally means: "suitable for the mouth, suitable for pleasure". It's a whole different ball game out here when the transliteration of your global brand actually sells itself!

China IV

I'm finding it difficult to write about China, in that I feel whatever I have to say has already been said, by many other people many other times.
However, one thing that has struck me is the sheer economic disparity in this country. I am not sure if people have already likened it to the social disparity that occurred in England during the Industrial Revolution, but the differences between the haves and the have-nots are staggering.
I have learned that the real estate moguls here, building skyscraper after skyscraper, and industrial developments galore, pay their construction workers, who are mainly migrant workers from rural settings, the equivalent of $7 CDN daily. Let me tell you; China may be a cheap country to live in, but it's not that cheap. This is also in a country that has no workers' compensation, no medical benefits, no disability insurance and no retirement pensions. I have seen grandmothers begging on the streets, presumably because they have no family to care for them, and are too old to work. I have seen construction workers come into very close calls with potential work accidents. I have seen pretty young things walking by them, in their flashy clothes, and holding cell phones that are worth two months' salary to those migrant workers.
Now, I am no student of history, but obviously change came about in the UK at the time, noting how many, many people were being left behind, while a select few were fabulously wealthy. I do hope that such change will occur here; I am not saying that we are any better in caring for our poor, but here, the poor break their backs and work in hard, hard labour in order to buy food for the day.
I suppose the paradox in saying this is that we in the West must realize how much our consumption patterns reinforce this cycle. The reason why people get paid so shitty here is because labour is cheap; dirt cheap. Which, of course, is why the products that we buy at home made here are so cheap. The competition to reach the very bottom in who can pay the lowest wages in order to cut costs here is partly our fault, to be honest. I can't help but walk through these streets and realize how much of what we do at home is preventing many people from reaching their full potential. The very small value that this culture places on individual lives is our mea culpa as well...
On a completely related note, I have also been trying to look for gifts to bring people back at home. As some of you know, my usual dilemma when I travel abroad is to buy items that are authentically made in the country that I'm visiting. The dilemma being that most souvenir-type items are made in China, no matter where in the world you are. Now that I'm here, where -everything- is made, I am finding that there is nothing here that I cannot find everywhere else in the world. All the Chinoiserie and kitsch that is found in these streets can easily be bought in any store in Toronto, for almost the same price. I am starting to think of ways to support the local economy in a viable way, and not just spend money on stupid, pointless trash...

China III

Traveling around in China isn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be - in the past few days, I've ridden trains, subways, taxis, buses and my own two feet to get around, and it hasn't been too bad at all - admittedly, part of it is the relative invisibility that I have here.
I must say that I am truly stunned by the rate of development here. One ex-pat told me that the national bird of China is the crane (ba-dum ching!). One lady I was staying with lives out in the suburbs of a small city (of only five million people!), and her entire neighbourhood is made up of super high-rises! The entire area is made up of condominium-type buildings - much like CitiPark, but for many square kilometres around.
That being said, there are some notable differences where I think they have performed better than we, in terms of urban planning. Firstly, they have very narrow, similar buildings, such that there is aesthetic congruence between buildings, and that every suite gets windows that face out of both sides of the building. I think that is great - each apartment gets a balcony out of both ends. Furthermore, they have designed these high-rises with a good mix of retail and residential, along with parks and schools as well. Wandering around in the evening, there were many (only) children playing in the courtyards around the high-rises. Lastly, they have a very extensive and frequent public transit service to help people get to the core of the city (at only $0.35 CDN a ride!).
I suppose when you're talking about "small" cities of 5 million people, you have to be organized in order to house them and move them about.

China II

It's a bit odd, in that I haven't really yet felt that I'm "in" China. In many ways, I feel like I'm running around a very, very, very large Chinatown, that just happens to have its own subway system running through it. There are enough ex-pats around to help confirm that feeling as well.
Wandering around the streets of Shanghai, I noticed the oddity of being completely ignored as a tourist. In some ways, the advantage of being relatively invisible allows me to watch people more easily. While wandering around yesterday, even with an English tourbook in hand, people mainly ignored me, with the occasional person talking to me about... something, which I wouldn't understand. It was also odd in that all the tourists and ex-pats also fully ignored me, assuming that I was one of 'them'.
I am struck by the cultural divide between the ex-pat community and the native community here. I stopped off for a break at a Western-style coffee shop, and noted that I was the only non-Caucasian person, besides the service staff, in the room. This was noted even more strongly when the barista started to take my order in Mandarin, and I just looked at her blankly. Sigh.
The same thing goes for church here; at the beginning of service for the internationals, there is an announcement to make clear that you are only allowed to stay if you hold a foreign passport, and all others are politely asked to leave, though they are welcome to any of the 'official' Chinese services. I think service this week was a welcome balm to the soul; it was encouraging to see the little church packed to the rafters with a completely multi-ethnic group of people, from over 60 nations of the earth, all worshipping God in the most unlikely of places. I haven't been so spiritually and emotionally moved by a service in a very, very long time.
In addition, we had gone to an 'all you can eat' dim sum restaurant, and guess what? They ran out of dim sum! We didn't get any hak gow, siu mai, egg tarts, nothing! Everything we ordered, they said they had run out, or were running out. At one point, they even told us the chef was leaving! What we found infuriating was that, knowing that they were closing down the kitchen soon, they still sat us at table, and didn't tell us the kitchen was closing till after they had brought out some dishes! I seemed to gather that customer service isn't exactly a strong point in China yet, as they didn't seem to find a problem in still charging us full price for the meal.

China I

Some of you are well aware of the horror show that was involved in actually getting here, and how, by the end of it all, my heart was just plain not into coming. Furthermore, with very current events in my life, deep guilt about leaving the country at this particular moment in time was also combined with all of the above. So, it was not with an easy, free heart that I was leaving.
However, off to Pearson I went anyways. Not two minutes after being dropped off, I found out that my flight was being delayed by two hours. D'oh! Next, I arrived at the ticket counter to find out that I was being placed on standby, and they couldn't guarantee that I would be able to get on my already-delayed flight. Nor could they explain why my reserved seat had magically disappeared from their computer system. Heading through the security system, I was actually taken out of the line, selected "at random" for a body search, which, I suppose, did waste some of the time that I had to kill, waiting for my flight. It was not boding well at all. By the time I arrived at the gate, the departure time had been pushed back yet another hour, thus leaving me to stew at Terminal 1.
To me, by this point, because of everything else that had happened while preparing to go on this trip, I was really feeling that really, I wasn't meant to go, and I had really not been paying close enough attention all the way along. And I sat and prayed, "God, if you sincerely want me to go home and deal with the acute issue that I'm leaving, just let Air Canada reimburse me, and I'll go home." People who were hearing about my ordeal just to get to the gate, and who were aware of everything else that had happened, were at the ready, waiting for the call to come to Pearson and get me.
However, God sent a few angels along, and, through Providence herself, I ended up in First Class ('werd to the two angels), and also was connected safely through customs and into the city by another few angels as well.
It's funny how that happens. It does make me wonder at the grace of God, or, perhaps, how His will works. Because until He sent them along, I was fairly convinced I was not supposed to be here, in this country, at this point in time in my life. And perhaps I am still not. However, I am thankful for the small graces He provides to show that He does know that I am here, and that He will open His hand, when we are not sure where to turn...

Grief for someone who has not gone

The inevitable mourning that occurs when a loved one suffers from mental illness has been striking me recently.
Theoretically, I know that, from a medical point of view, that mental illness is not different in type than physical illness. I know, as a physician, that mental illness should not be a stigmatizing status, and that its sufferers should be seen and treated with the same amount of respect and care that we would for someone with, say, an amputated leg.
The practical reality is, however, quite different. I have been mourning quite deeply for a loved one that I am not entirely sure will entirely come back to reality (see, I'm crying right now thinking about it). I am not sure if it is because that the value that is placed on being of 'sound mind' is incredibly heavy. I am not sure if it is still the huge stigma that is still associated with mental illness. I am not sure if, in my culture and in my social group, that having a quick-thinking, 'normal' brain is expected. I am not sure if we, as a society, truly believe that people with mental illness really are the 'same' as the 'rest of us', and that we actually believe that they suddenly become 'apart', that they are no longer allowed within the realm of 'normality', that we mourn their exile into the abyss of disreality.
The disconnect between what I know as a physician, and how I experience it, as a friend, has been repeatedly slapping me in the face. My friend is still the same dear friend that they were last week, last month, last year. This, just as if they had had a heart attack, been diagnosed with cancer, or lost an eye. However, I fear for their future: for their family, their work, relationships they may have, and how God will deal with all of this.
Now, I know this fear is irrational: God is firmly in control, and He is always good. I trust that He will watch over them, and His ways are things that I cannot understand. Which is why I will not mourn in front of my friend: I may fear and worry, but it is not for my friend to bear my burdens on top of their own. The load that they are now called to bear requires me to help carry it, not to add my own fears and sadness onto it. I am already worried about them in how I have seen family members and friends heaping their own anxieties onto their frail shoulders. It grieves me as to how this will affect their healing, and the role that they may be assigned by the fears that have already been projected upon them, even this early in the proceedings...

Why we need storytellers

OK, so I've been thinking some more about the great seven storylines for all of humanity. Christopher Booker initially wrote about these ideas, and as they persist, and as I had mentioned them in the previous post, I should say something about them. Originally, I had thought they were divided into: boy meets girl, person goes on quest, or some other storyline like that. I think Booker tells it better.
They could be summarized as such:
1. Overcoming the monster: defeating some fain force - whether that is Darth Vader, environmental collapse, nuclear war, the evil in ourselves...
2. The Quest (see, I was right about this one!): an individual or a group setting off to find something - thinking of LOTR, Pilgrim's Progress or the Musicians of Breman
3. Journey and Return: The protagonist goes off on an adventure and returns to after having experienced much and hopefully become a better person - think of the Hobbit or the Wizard of Oz
4. Comedy: not ha-ha funny, but rather, like in Shakespearean comedies, various obstacles and misunderstandings between the hero and heroine ensue, until they are all resolved and the lovers can reunite again - think of any Shakespearean comedy, and almost any romance-y chick flick.
5. Tragedy: again, like Shakespearean tragedy, in that human vice and temptation overtake the protagonist, becoming trapped in their actions, until they (usually) end up in death - Hamlet being the archetype.
6. Rebirth: The protagonist is oppressed, almost seems on the verge of death and it seems that all is hopelessly lost, until they are miraculously freed - such as Sleeping Beauty, Scrooge, and Jesus.
7. Rags to Riches: this is a bit self-explanatory - downtrodden individual is recognized for their value or talent, which are revealed to the world to have a happy ending - this is where Slumdog certainly fits.

I think the story of Jesus is so compelling because it encompasses pretty much all of the storylines. The Tragedy storyline really encompasses Judas' journey, but all the other plots involve the person of Jesus - He has overcome sin, the biggest monster of them all. He has gone on the quest for eternal life for all of humanity. He has journeyed to death and has returned from it. He has overcome all obstacles and misunderstandings that humanity has of God in order to reunite humanity to Himself in a joyful, loving embrace. He has obviously, through the Resurrection, fulfilled the Rebirth story. And He, as the Suffering Servant to the King of Kings, has gone from Rags to Riches.
Compelling, heady stuff that our King has undergone!
(Now, I know Booker wrote his book from some sort of Jungian philosophy/ego-based analysis, but I think that there is something to this seven basic storylines...)

FFT

This has some echoes of Solomon in it... it is unfortunate that the one true Joy, though so easily found, is so desperately avoided by millions around the globe, including this caliph here...

"I have now reigned about 50 years in victory and peace, beloved by my subjects, dreaded by my enemies, and respected by my allies. Riches and honours, power and pleasure, have waited on my call, nor does any earthly blessing appear to have been wanting to my felicity. In this situation I have diligently numbered the days of pure and genuine happiness which have fallen to my lot: They amount to 14."

- Abd-ar-Rahman III, The Caliph of Cordoba, who presided over the 10th-century golden age of al-Andalus, the Moorish kingdom in southern Spain

Chai wallas and chocolates

I've been thinking about Forrest Gump, for various reasons, over the past few weeks. One reason has been because of his approach of simply sitting next to strangers and starting conversations about himself and life (and boxes of chocolate, of course). I've been struck at how odd that really is, and as charming as Forrest Gump is in the movie, in reality, nobody would tolerate that. There are not many people that would be open to having a movie-length conversation with a complete stranger who sat beside them in a park. The issue at hand is that I was talking with one guy I know who uses this strategy to evangelize people, which, I argue, is of lower stakes and in many ways easier than going through the triumph and heartbreak of befriending and loving people instead. Not that I think that it's an either-or issue, just that there is no real harm done; nobody wants to listen to you? OK, they just get up and leave. No implications on your life. Hence, why I ended up thinking of Forrest as a tangible example of this.
That being said, in a completely different track, I also realized that Forrest Gump and Slumdog Millionaire are actually the SAME movie! I am wondering if the idiot savant being the wisest one of all is actually one of the core seven storylines of humanity. Since they are the same movie, it probably explains why people loved both movies so much (myself included). By extremes of coincidence and chance, the protagonist ends up with deep knowledge and experience, much more than everyone else can possibly believe. Through this, the naif gains wealth, romance and adventure.
I wonder if we are swept up with this particular storyline, as, deep down, most of us are all underdogs, and we cheer them on, marveling at how they outwit and outsmart adversaries many times more superficially talented, beautiful and intelligent. Perhaps we all hope that we could end up with that kind of fairy tale endings with our lives... admittedly, Dostoevsky's The Idiot doesn't quite fit that same pattern, but I digress...

Paralyzing freedom

Today, I am convinced that one of the difficulties of living in the West is just the limitless possibilities that are open to us. I think that I am deeply privileged to live here, but I think also that the overwhelming choices sometimes make it difficult to navigate. You somehow are always left with the question, well, what if I had picked X instead?
Talking with my folks today about a bit of language learning I had picked up this weekend, they had mentioned that I could also consider maybe learning my actual ethnic language by going overseas and taking one of their summer courses. Pointing out also some of my scholastic ambitions over the next little while (very small ambitions, no Master's degree or anything), the other possibilities of continuing education then flood the mind with all the courses, certificates and diplomas available. Furthermore, I am in the midst of an application and selection process for two very different fellowships/cohorts/conferences, both of which are conveniently taking place at approximately the same time in the same country.
I realize that all of this is only possible because of my geography and my socio-economic class. The idea that a woman could be an educated professional/academic, travel the world, educate herself, and participate in leadership is sadly so exceedingly foreign to most cultures. Would it have been better if, had my family had ended up on a particular side of the DMZ, I had been destined to be no more than a subsistence farmer, a factory worker, or, perhaps, sold as a bride? I think not. Not at all.
However, I do wonder, with all the potentialities available to us, if that somehow paralyzes us from truly utilizing all of our opportunities. We think, well, I can't accomplish everything, so I won't attempt anything. And some of us truly don't accomplish much more than if we'd been living in a country where the opportunities are next to nothing. Our choices do, however, make it difficult to focus with laser-like precision on what we should do best for God and His Kingdom, that's for sure...

An extremely long run-on thought

Sometimes I wonder about the herd mentality, especially in consideration of the current "economic crisis". I also wonder how families are getting through this period of time. I also wonder how much of it is contrived, and how much of it is real.
Let me explain: I'm OK, I'm not really at risk of losing my job at any time, and I'm still earning the same salary that I was earning before this "global meltdown" occurred (note that I am "" those terms, as I am not entirely convinced of these euphemisms). However, in running regular errands over the past few weeks, namely, Drive Clean tests, plate renewals (along with that dastardly new tax Miller's introduced!), prescription renewals (no drug plan), insurance payments, dental visits (no dental plan), etc etc etc, add up to a lot of cash-ola!
I actually verged on starting to get a bit worried that I wouldn't have enough to cover all these payments this month. Then, I wondered whether I was lacking in faith, thinking that just because my balance sheet didn't look like it was evening out this month, that God wouldn't eventually make it all work out. Then, I also wondered whether I even dared worry in the first place because the media told me I should be freaking out. Then, I thought about everybody else who is not in my position, that is, regular families, and I thought, dear goodness, how are these families with no benefits covering for their children's dental visits, their medications, their vehicle registrations and insurance payments, their mortgages, etc themselves? Then, I thought about families where one parent had recently lost a job, and how they were going to do. Then, I thought, how did we drive our society to such a position where two parents MUST work in order to be able to earn enough to house and feed their family? Then, I started thinking about a few other ethical issues that have popped up internationally, and thinking about sex slaves and child soldiers, and then I thought, gosh, God, we are a sinful and stiff-necked people, and of all the things I should worry about, the least should be whether or not I can cover my bicycle repair fees...
Then, I repented of all that, am not worrying about money anymore (for now, at least), and thinking about how broken and impoverished our poor souls are...

A VERY scary picture!

I realized, after putting this picture up, that it's almost illegible, so I will also post the website address:
https://www.msu.edu/~howardp/organicindustry.html

Animal testing

My life rarely intersects that of the medical world as a patient. However, when it does, the dazzling array of options is mind-boggling, yet also adds a layer of anxiety; if I need this many tests/ medical professionals/ investigations, how sick am I?
Resolving this year to actually try to see my doctor, my optometrist and my dentist at least once every two years results in not just seeing the person themselves, but, for some reason, also involves additional visits, call-backs, X-rays, other tests, bloodwork, and more investigations! Today, I feel like there must be something wrong with me, as I was booking follow-ups, testing appointments, etc.
I half-wonder if that's supposed to be a sign of aging; the older you get, the more that your life is consumed with a never-ending cycle of going in to see medical professionals. If so, this sucks; I have better things to do with my life.
I kind of understand why some of my patients don't come to see me all that often - I imagine coming in to see me reminds them that they are aging, that they are breaking down, and that ultimately, their mortality will inevitably catch up with them. However, for the regulars, who come in every few weeks, I wonder what that does for them. Does that make them feel more secure that there is another set of eyes watching their crumbling mortality? Do they feel that, under my careful watch, that they will somehow defeat illness just by basking in my glow? If so, they are sadly mistaken; the additional poking and prodding, the investigations and interventions that we provide do not add glorious years of life. I think they rather shrivel the soul, causing us to rely on technology to keep us, barely breathing, barely alive...

Yikes!

This is just a warning shot over the heads of those of you who read this blog regularly - I am seriously considering making this blog a private one, that is to say, that readers need to sign in to read my blog.
This has only come to mind in that I've been getting more and more readers from geographical locales of which I am quite sure I don't actually know anyone. And they're reading a lot, rather than just coming to the website and then leaving right away.
It kind of makes you feel naked, really, when people you don't know, and will never meet can read so much about you. I didn't mind so much when I could identify most of all the readership, but it's becoming increasingly difficult to do this, so I think I may have to privatize it.
If you would like to get in on this before I change over, please do let me know!

Too good to be true

I've been very interested in how people have reacted to Bernie Madoff's Ponzi scheme. There was a newscast on the radio yesterday that noted that people applauded when he was found guilty of all of his swindling and scheming.
Now, I admit, it's rough when you lose your entire life savings, and in the case of charitable foundations, losing all of your capital. For those who were living off of their investment returns, now to find they have nothing, and having to return to work well past their prime, it is a very scary and bleak time.
However, on the radio, some of his "victims" were stating that he didn't "deserve" to be put into a white-collar prison, that what he did deserved to be put in with the murderers and the rapists and the pedophiles. Excuse me?
I think this demonstrates two very disturbing tendencies in our society. 1. Listening to people's commentaries about how Mr. Madoff should burn in hell, etc etc, shows me that people care very very much about money. We seem to care more about money than we do about people. I think this is demonstrated in the equivalency that some people have made that the loss of their money is equally as bad as sexually assaulting a small child. 2. That when we are gullible fools, we will immediately turn around and blame as many other people as possible. Come on now, how many times have we heard if an opportunity to make money sounds too good to be true, it likely is? Apparently people who invested with Madoff had consistent returns, year after year, irrespective of how the rest of the economy was going, irrespective of how banks were posting their prime rates, irrespective of how markets were going. Somehow that didn't trigger with anybody that it wouldn't make sense to make the exact same return every year, despite market fluctuations. So, if you're dumb enough to fall for that, frankly, the adage that 'a fool and his money are soon parted' fits the part well...

Running to Stand Still

No, I am certainly not saying that I'm a heroin addict, if that is the automatic connection that came to mind with this blog post. However, I think there is something about the irresistible, addictive nature of being busy, or at least being perceived that way.
I know many people think I'm relatively lazy, when they compare some of my work weeks to their own. Or they assume that I must have heaps of free time to sit and daydream. Or they wonder why I don't have time to watch TV every night, like themselves.
Maybe I am very inefficient at my tasks, that I don't know. Maybe I have way too many different things on my plate. That, I think is also a definite possibility. The reality is that on average, I actually work more than the usual 40 hour-work week. There, I said it. My choice to seemingly work less hours than you think a physician should work actually leaves me with working just a bit more than the average worker. If I did work "full time" (whatever the heck that means), I suspect my work schedule would look similar to as it did when I was a resident, and that is an untenable situation.
Carrying much on one's plate inevitably gives one indigestion. In my spare brain moments, I'm thinking briefly about what items on my plate are so important to me that I still want to keep nibbling at them. Problem is, like a really good potluck, you actually want to make sure you keep a bit of everything on your plate. Sigh. Perhaps if I did become a heroin addict, picking and choosing would become rapidly a moot point...

No repeating last year's travesty!

One of the surest signs of spring, to me, is the Seedy Saturday phenomenon. It's been crossing the country over the past few weeks, with people busily exchanging or buying seeds, and learning from others about various aspects of growing food. It's fabulous! This year was even nicer, with knowing quite a lot of people from the booths, so it took me a good 1 1/2 hours just to go around, chit-chatting with everyone!
But what's even more promising is the fact that I have started my winter seedlings. Yes, indeed, they are incubating on top of my refrigerator, waiting for spring. They've been given the very best start (yum! worm casings!), and will hopefully germinate, and do much better than last year.
This year, I've resolved to start everything myself from seed. No seedlings from people I don't know, as that got me into great trouble last summer. But, I am going to vary my crop a bit: a few beans, a few peas, a bit of kale, different lettuces, better canning tomatoes than what I grew last year. I think I'm looking forward to entertaining people this summer with the tasty goodies coming from my garden!
Now, I must admit, I am dreaming of a backyard, or a certain plot of land in merry 'ol England (you know who you are!) that would let me grow corn and onions and house a few chickens. As that is not my lot (literally), I will have to make do with my balcony. But that doesn't stop me from dreaming of all the farming I could do...