To thine own self be true

Now there’s something I can support, gladly. That young people are active and doing things to help themselves and others. (Not like couch potatoes and terminal screeners.) Long live youthful idealism and activism. Purpose, meaning, a good cause, and doing for others. A true gift of self before Xmas.

The world, that is. Life experience, fairly often. Many people. As Johnny Clegg put it, “It’s a cruel, crazy, beautiful world.” Hard to dispute as we still await the arrival of The Big One from outer space or some moron setting off nuclear Armageddon.

People crazy, losing it behind the wheel, losing it on drugs, losing it when they have to wait or can’t get what they want. People acting selfishly or crazily, lost in their own worlds, with a greatly overvalued sense of self and entitlement. Imagine. That the world should just cater to or bow down to one individual. You’d have to go back to Hitler or Napoleon to find such self-deluded sense of grandeur or entitlement. Rob Ford? Alison Redford? Now, that’s crazy.

The current craziness in Canada of deconstructing institutions and, with them, people’s jobs and lives, as if none of that mattered. The crumbling roads, buildings, hospitals, health care, schools, education systems. Yes, the great flow and tendency is to tear apart these daze without conscience, without an alternate sensible plan, with zero appreciation of what institutions have brought us. With the result that people have been abruptly, unnecessarily, moved into chaos and the fear zone. Now that’s crazy.

This well exceeds the future shock that Alvin Toffler wrote about in the late ’60s. There has been a great abandonment of common sense, rationality, and moral responsibility. Replaced with the grinchy cynicism of “Oh well, there’s no more money; people will have to fend for themselves.” The great tidal wave of uncaring that has swept across this nation in the past decade. Certainly emanating everywhere from politicians and governments. A Mean Society and a Society of Entitled Means fit for the Pamela Wallins, Mike Duffys, or monolithic parties like the Alberta PCs who, for decades, have abandoned all moral responsibilities to voters and the public at large.

But to return to the topic–a craziness borne out by a turning away from the decent and civilized, and much of what used to be the good, truth, justice, and beauty of Western Civilization. Instead, myriad divisiveness and mass alienation, needlessly, on so many levels. A deliberate, marked preference for chaos and destruction, not survival, growth or real freedom.

I’ve long said that life and life experience is basically dualistic (quite apart from its unquestionable multiplicity). It’s as obvious as the continuum between good and evil or reality and illusion. Those polarities or opposites are with us and built into us, potentially, from the get-go. With the first aforementioned duality, is it any wonder that we have always had war and violence? And with due respect to our common humanity, the differences between what has been termed masculine and feminine. Pulling us in very different directions toward differing values, beliefs, and lifestyles. We have long been in conflict with one another, with others all along the way. That’s just the way it is, the way we are, irrational as this might be. An underlay of great divides suggesting, on many days, never the twain.

I think, unquestionably, the best of culture and Western civilization took us a long, long way from barbarism, irrationality, naturally-generated and external chaos, and craziness. But now we see that stability, permanence, traditional authority, ability to make distinctions, ability to think critically, and ability to empathize stripped away, ignored, criticized, or forgotten en masse in a brave new screen world. And we are all of us meaner, poorer, and more cynical as a result.

I long for a return to an awareness of the best of culture, civilization, and the past. A renaissance of what Matthew Arnold termed the “pursuit of our total perfection by means of getting to know, on all the matters which most concern us, the best which has been thought and said in the world.” (Preface, Culture and Anarchy). I don’t think the screens will be enough. I don’t think the screens, in and of themselves, will necessarily free us to achieve what Arnold envisioned. In the end, I think the screens will leave us hyper-dependent, slaves to machines, spiritually impoverished, very dumb, and more limitedly egocentric. Ultimately, they will leave us far more distracted, shallow, and crazier than we ever were to begin with.

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The present here-and-now will always be the most important focus for how we live. But–simply put–the instructive past, not the distracting/ illusory/delusory future, offers us the most valuable information, insights, and guidance our world needs to survive, grow, or move ahead. Individually as well as society-wise.

“Take your place on the great mandala
As it moves through your brief moment of time”
–Peter Yarrow/Mary Travers/Albert B. Grossman. “The Great Mandala (The Wheel of Life)”, as sung by Peter, Paul and Mary

Edmonton Journal‘s 5-month investigation resulting in a week of daily reports on AB’s crumbling hospitals. A must-read for any AB adult and child. What several decades of PC negligence and public pipedream voting for Big Brother has got us healthcare-wise. Zero political will to be publicly, fairly, and morally responsible. An amazing expose.

The silence from god-from-the-political-machine Prentice, bow-tie-hem-and-haw Health Minister Mandel, and the other fat cat PC cronies has been profoundly deafening. There is still a lot to be said for actual truth and honesty in news reporting. The public is entitled to know even if they gave the PC ignoramuses carte blanche for decades. So much for the false image of AB as a leader of the provinces and as a great place to live. A tailings pond version of how humans are really regarded and treated in this province.

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The chickens always come home to roost. Government spin, rah-rah us, and millions spent on smoke and mirrors to divert the hoi polloi will always crash and burn. The PC “Don’t forget to breathe” slogan doesn’t apply to health care and hospitals in this province. Bow ties and new-facemen just don’t cut it anymore in AB. They just leave you with things like private PC penthouses with butler pantries, Third World hospitals, Third World city roads, new arenas for dead hockey teams, wasted-public-fund-bike lanes used by less than 1% of a city’s population 3 months a year, and no running escalators or no place to park to support actual LRT use/rs.

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Jan. 22/2015: The fantastic Journal  series which exposed and embarrassed the P.C.s was met with their usual, effective response to media stories criticizing them: Just ignore it and it will die/go away. The apathy of the public response to this non-response has likewise been deafening. Which is why nothing will ever change, politically speaking, in arteries-hardened, conformist AB. I should mention also that the first time the P.C.s did this and it worked was back in King Ralph’s era in the ’90s. His response to a huge Mill Woods rally for hospitals: “Rally? What rally?”

A book–The Secret Life of Squirrels by Nancy Rose, a Canadian.

The day that gives the lie that buying screens is more important than eating properly, exercising (rather than sedentary lifestyles with junk food), live in-person physical presence with others, being in touch with oneself and what one really thinks and knows, history, the past, the best of Western civilization past tense, real gifts of self and others, Nature, sick and dying health care and education systems, etc.

Imagine. Our priority of the day is to get out there and buy more e-junk that will be obsolete as soon as it is purchased, pouring money neverendingly into a great black e-hole to keep computer companies running, just so we can say we’re ‘with it’ and have the latest limited gadget to obsess over and pour our hearts and souls into, as if these e-media tools were the be-all and end-all of our limited lives and Western civilization.

Superficial, mindless, delusional, commercial mass crap. Nothing else.

Wake up. Resist.

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Black Friday is likewise stupid. (And an insult to the memory of the victims of the Edmonton Tornado.)

Try Buy Nothing Day next time around–November 28.

(–Walt Whitman)

There are many ways to approach life and some people do not stop working or being busy until they encounter serious illness, have a major crisis or near-death experience, or die. I believe that life is more than just action and the multitudes of people, places, and experiences that one can and many do simply fill their lives with. Whitman would never have written the above famous quote if he had had no time to reflect about his life, past stories, experiences and lives.

I personally found that by the age of 59 or 60, that I had lived many lives, had met and known tens of thousands of people and many stories along the way, had come to know much about life through literature, music, art, and philosophy, and had accomplished many things that expressed who I was and what I had to offer others and the world. And so gradually, this blog emerged, with help from my daughter (who long knew I was a writer, poet, and teacher) and her companion (who had the IT background to facilitate this venture). Tothineownselfbetrue.ca is, incidentally, about my multitudes (be they past-related or ongoing present).

We each of us, from the age of say 15 or 16 on, begin to accumulate multitudes which crowd in fast during those early or beginning years of actively pursuing our bliss. And the people, places, and experiences pile up quickly from that point on like the snow outside in Edmo today. And, to a large extent, our lives are definitely defined by our actions and episodes–what we have done, what we have achieved in the social world. Those actions reveal who we are, what our ideals, dreams, beliefs, and sensibilities are. And, as I said above, we can toil endlessly as if we are never going to stop giving, making money, or learning. Work has its place, suffice to say, but most of life is not just work, accomplishments, or a long resume.

The process of life I have spoken of so many times thusfar in this blog is much larger than that. We are much larger than work and action. As human beings and individuals, we have many more possibilities than we frequently give ourselves credit for. (Notably, some feel purpose and meaning mainly or only in the context of religion or some external divine force, agent, or being. This is a very good thing which sometimes, religious wars and terrorism aside, leads to acts of charity–itself one of the great achievements of Western civilization going back to late Victorian times.)

For those of us who lack conventional religion, like myself, the responsibility for one’s own life rests largely on whatever inner personal code or responsibility that one takes for one’s actions and life. A life that one existentially makes, creates, or creates for oneself. Part of that life is based on or largely possible because of consciousness and reflection and having the time to let those vital, self-developing facets to “be” and develop.

I look around and see there are many others who have lived their lives similarly, mainly on their terms and made themselves and their lives who and what they were or are–Stephen Hawking, Henry David Thoreau, Emily Dickinson, Virginia Woolf, Andrew Wyeth, Sophocles, Shakespeare, Leo Tolstoy, Beethoven, Bach, Henry Moore, Joni Mitchell, Robert Frost, and so on. They live/d life thoughtfully, deeply, and creatively. It is obvious from their works that they contained multitudes, live/d many lives and stories, and knew and understood many people, Nature, and life. Inevitably, as one encounters their great works, one realizes the personal choices, necessary solitudes, and multitudinous inner worlds and consciousness that made their art, visions, dreams, and achievements possible.

All of these people make us aware of what is humanly possible and the multitudinous ways of looking at humanity, nature, and the world (a far cry from the tunnel-visioned world of screens). These multitudes are potentially in you, too, as much as they are in them. And It is the consciousness and expression of these multitudes that is truly special and valuable far beyond mere work and lucre.

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(photo above: reservoir on David Thompson highway east of park gate. We are a part of multitudinous Nature; Nature reflects/expresses our own potential multitudinousness.)

(My Winnipeg university folk group Clover, circa 1969, YMHA, in concert. Left-handed playing-strings-upside-down-on-right-handed-12 -tring-guitars Wayne, left, became a significant computer programmer for the City of Calgary from the mid-70s on; Chris, right, became a significant obstetrics doctor in Poe’s city of Baltimore; Sandy, then in high school, whereabouts and fate long unknown. Clover, one of my many past creative and performing contexts, one of my musical-needs/expressions-met-bands of the past)

All the Others to get this far, to stay (and thrive) alive, intact, finally.

Life is risk and precarious from the get-go. Those who brought us into the world–parents. It is through their care-raking that we got repeatedly fed, sheltered, cleaned up, and wised up to the most basic basics. Without parents like this, it is a heavy, harsh odds-against-start in life.

The main ‘teachers’, beginning with friends and grandparents that took an interest in us and showed us how to do things. This extrapolated to the classrooms of our lives–from elementary to college or university. And the lifelong learning situations of our adult years–the many mates, friends, colleagues, instructors, and ‘teachers’ that helped us to do better, learn, and grow.

The many experts we relied on–the massage therapists, car repairmen, tax preparation experts, dentists, doctors, et al that kept us together or intact, that kept us going or supported us. This becoming more obvious perhaps as we aged or lost abilities or independence in various ways. With them, the continued, continuing flow on many levels.

The children who, it is hoped, keep in touch or support us, reciprocally, full-circle, in return, as we move toward the inevitable light marked Exit.

Others, simply put. Without whom we would not have survived. Without whom we would have never grown, developed, learned, or been much less without. The argument, simply put for Why and How Others. Those others from the many contexts and the all-important, factual past. Particularly those who most influenced or mattered. The many homages we may (as pictured above)  or don’t pay as we get buried within and beneath the flux and snowbanks of life or death, with whatever autonomy, consciousness, and freedom we somehow manage/d to eke out.

First, to a large extent, came Others and past contexts. The next/following entry covers the here-and-now and where I ended up, process-wise, choice-wise, and context-wise.

In many ways, context does turn out to be what one generally lives with and/or creates through personal choices for oneself. That is, the personal contexts that one brings into being. I have found, though, that many contexts–relationships, work, even friendship–have limits or limitations embedded in them. It is just a matter of time and inevitable that one will realize and encounter these limits.

And so the best contexts turn out to be the ones that are creative, that have palpable flow within them, that move one ahead, or finally free one in different, often unexpected ways. Meaning that whatever context one is in has flow possibilities which may arise naturally, sometimes through nothing more than spontaneous useless pleasures, with way leading easily and naturally unto other ways, other consciousness.

Yesterday, for instance, I, like many Katzvillians, dug out from a 30-40 cm snowstorm. Necessity, if one is to keep moving in the home context, on foot or by car. An accessibility for others and today’s Grey Cup party too. There are the immediate here-and-now things to be done in whatever context. I also dug out the two outside moving-electric-deer in the backyard for the anticipated amusement of today’s guests (and my grandson at some point). Imagination naturally considers future and likely possibilities.

With reference to the grandson, I also examined, tidied, and repaired the toboggan which has sat unused in the garage for decades. A toboggan ride on the driveway and crescent would likely be something a turning-three-year-old would enjoy. I also cleaned up the kids’ table in the living room in anticipation of Christmas visitors including 3 young children, and how they would fit into the context of the living room flow of that day. Again imagination, empathy, and anticipating other contexts, others’ interests, and inevitable living room makeover for the holiday season, involving moving many plants and putting up a tree and other decorations.

But personal time/personal context more freely and spontaneously chosen leads to whatever consciousness and entertainments within even yesterday’s homebound context. After sup, I decided to watch an old 165 minutes, 1974 blockbuster movie with many old stars like Paul Newman and Steve McQueen–The Towering Inferno. Who knows what other subconscious reasons drove me to this choice? Maybe the numerous media stories about various snowstorm rescues and deaths contributed? Something to do with my many moments of late realizing how life is simply, mostly risk? Maybe I simply needed some fire or more warmth in my day? The possibilities, whether known or subconscious, are likely many.

Movies are always a context per se, and have a flow or rhythm of their own, especially good or great ones. And though this one had its share of criticism in its day, it anticipated what it itself had predicted–that many people could potentially die in skyscrapers, that human error was often a product of ego and economics, and that heroism flows naturally in a crisis or disaster. You get the idea–the truths are many and may get proven in unexpected, unforeseen ways–e.g., the burning skyscrapers of the Twin Towers in 9/11. I could not help but remember this iconic, archetypal mass tragedy as the movie flowed and unfolded with its own specific contexts and problems. And all the way–as I have often said–characters like people have to make choices and take risks–frequently life-and-death ones.

And so within my apparently limited overall context yesterday (homebound by choice rather than mindlessly going out in public to mass-mall-rat-shop), I followed the flow of personal choice and quite accidentally found an engrossing entertainment of a thought-provoking nature. The flow of my consciousness filled whatever quiet and peace (there was a well-deserved nap after the shovelling) steadily and unpredictably as the day went on. Way led on to way amidst the different levels of flow or chi that included an interesting, truth-full movie.

There are those who feel they have to have lots o’ people around them and to network constantly in others in order to experience flow, meaning, and purpose. But the limits and limitations of that–impeding personal flow, personal consciousness, reflection, and finally person freedom–goes without saying. We ultimately, on the other hand, are all responsible for our own lives, our own flows, and our own personal freedom and daily growth. A lot simply comes down to the contexts we choose–(Updike’s “Context is all”); it is–but this doesn’t require a whole whack of others, work, or even constant contact with (only) one person. Since retirement, I personally have found that relative solitude generally works for generating the amount and kind of personal freedom and flow I have mostly and always desired, chosen, and thrived on over these many years.

It’s all there: context, positioning within context via whatever flow and personal choices, and the personal consciousness that one lives with perpetually and potentially throughout one’s life.

“You see, ya can’t please everybody
So ya got to please yourself”–Rick Nelson, “Garden Party”

SPIRITUS–Glen Kirkland, Dean McKenzie, and Richard Davies (all senior high ELA teacher-poets

(We published two editions of this chapbook. We were on C.B.C. Radio reading our famous 3-in-1 poems, breaking up Marion Coomey. Cover was done by Kees Wouters, a former Scona colleague, now a B.C. artist.)

(Otherwise known as This, That, The Other, 1991–Dean took shadow impressions of our heads for the cover. “This” was Glen aka “Spook” for his Catholic connections, Richard was “That”–aka “Laddio”, and Dean was “The Other” aka “Daddio”. (Daddio, Laddio and The Spook.) We were regular readers at Café la Gare (Thanks to Thomas Trofimuk, himself now a famous novelist) and at places such as U of A, the Banff Springs, Southgate Woodward’s, Aspen Books, et al)

(Our foray in 1988 into drama and the Fringe. Glen played a puppet show host who had redone Hamlet, Dean played a children’s show character who had gone into WWF wrestling and singing obscene songs for children, Richard played The Producer, a cowboy singer, and Bob Dyin’. Poster by one of my students, Judd Hampton.)

(Spiritus with Margaret Moody (Lynn Joberg), Spiritus with Solon McDade (bass) and John Towill (didgeridoo) live at Ike and Iggy’s on Whyte. Dean later went on to become The Jazz Poet and recorded 2 CDs and 2 videos still on the ‘net)