summer

I'll be on hiatus for 10 days, off the grid, on a lake in Quebec. Canoeing. Swimming. Sun-soaking.

secrets

How can you be honest when you're asked to keep a secret? It's awkward and challenging, guarding someone else's privacy. Especially when it's from other family members. I value being upfront and direct. It doesn't mean that I can always adhere to that, or that it's always a straightforward thing to do. When I was younger, it was complicated... I felt like I needed to lie to my mom to be able to grow up and branch out. But I desperately wanted to take my own risks that I didn't have to pass by her first. Those little white lies would just roll off my tongue. Once I hit adulthood, I had to work hard to break that bad habit. But,  now it feels like "here I go again"... when asked to keep a secret, you end up lying by omission... and it's not very comfortable.

This flies in the face of trying to be scrupulously honest in one's life. Personally, I've found this life principle can have huge advantages. I don't feel like as much of an impostor as I did when I was younger... you know, that "impostor syndrome" when you worry all the time that one false move, and EVERYONE will see you for who you truly are, and it ain't pretty? Don't get me wrong, I don't want to brag about this or anything. It didn't come easily... it was hard work. But when I don't hide much from anyone, there are no secrets, no need to remember to whom I told what... it's strangely relaxing. Maybe some people find it(me) overwhelming... "TMI" and all that. But it quickly weeds out who in my life can handle that much info about me and who I am... and who can't. Like this blog, I guess. People who like what I have to say and want to hear more about me and my ramblings/opinions/musings read it, and those who think it's WAY too much information, just don't.

Secrets can do so much harm when in the wrong hands. Political secrets, secrets about abuse, incest, family secrets, government secrets... you name a group, they'll have a secret. And silencing someone has long been a tool in hands of those who have any kind power. The lack of transparency in governments, work places, and just about any locus of power drives me crazy! But I digress... back to secrets in families and being a part of that. I am really struggling with the usefulness or advisability of this. Everyone hits a time in their life where facing the music isn't pretty, but it's necessary. Secrets keep them from being fully known, warts and all... from knowing themselves better through their relationships with others through all this. I'm all for ripping the bandaid off and seeing how ugly it is underneath. As much as it hurts. Hair and all. Tug. Rip.Youch!

terror experiment update

Ok, so not to keep you in suspense, the experiment yielded interesting and unexpected results (read terror and terror 2 first to understand this entry). And as a true scientist, I am publishing my results and my rambling conclusions and you are free to draw your own as well.

So far, (I know, less that 24 hours) I have had 4 hits, all Canadian. Which leads me to draw the following possible conclusions:
1. Having already triggered all the Homeland Security, FBI and CIA filters I could trigger, they have deemed me safe, and aren't interested in following up with any planned teasing or retriggering on my part.
2. Americans have read up on compassion, fear mongering and black and white thinking since yesterday and are no longer afraid.
3. The 4 Canadian hits were from CSIS, and I need to repeat this experiment using words that might attract more hits from them.
OR...
4. The 17 hits from the States were some kind of fluke I wrote a whole blog about. How embarrassing.

So, next blog will be back to my usual format. Sorry to bother. Nothing ventured...

terror 2

How do you top having your first 17 hits in one day from America? OK,  I'll admit it, I occasionally check my stats to find out who my audience is. I am flawd after all. Some info for those of you who were like me... blog illiterate until 2 months ago, your blog stats show who has clicked on your blog. So far, I've only told a few Canadian friends and some family I am blogging therefore most of my "views" are Canadian. I've also had some random hits from Germany, Cambodia, Malaysia and 2 from the USA. Until yesterday, that is. I guess all you need to do is write a blog about terror, bombs and fear to attract the attention of America. 17 hits! That's 25% of all my hits! Wow! So, I've decided to try again (daring aren't I?). Hence...duh, duh, duh... terror 2.

Unlike Norway on Friday, there haven't been any more acts of really bad terror in the last 24 hours. Oh wait, that's not true. Someone murdered the mayor of Kabul yesterday and an AWOL US soldier with bombs and Jihadi literature was just arrested near Fort Hood. And certainly, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert talk lots about terror on their late night shows. But I figure that I have to somehow work the words missiles, assassinations and mass destruction in these four meager paragraphs to see if I can score more American attention today. I am thinking... "does Homeland Security, the CIA and the FBI have some kind of filter that picks up crazy bloggers before they can actually blow things up?" If so, how come this guy in Norway didn't set off any alarms? How did they miss that and find me 17 times?

That's why I've decided I'll do this just this one more last time... you know, just enough to tease them but not enough that they come knocking at my door. A theory. I have my personal ethics after all. I'm not THAT crazy a left-wing extremist. Just to test out this theory... what's your wager? More, fewer or the same hits as yesterday? What kinds of words are they looking for? Explosive device? Terrorism? Shoe? Underwear? OK, OK, I can hear my friends warning me that that's enough. But I do also wonder if it's just that these are the kinds of words some run-of-the mill Americans are googling? That's an even bigger question!

To answer that query, I lean toward the teachings of Micheal Moore and South Park. I believe there is a culture of fear. You can be born with black and white thinking but it can also be taught. Can it be un-taught? Only time will tell. I'm an optimist (oops, there's a little bit of personal info that slipped out there). Google "grey thinking or thinkers", there is lots of info out there about this topic. Meditation and compassion training actually change your brain structure... for the better! (sorry if that scared you.) So, here's to all the grey thinkers of the world. Wisdom can come at any age. Hip. Hip. Hur-grey!

terror

How do you deal with the likelihood that a terrorist(s) will strike in Canada at some point? It's a hard thing for me to get my mind around. Everyone loves Canada, right? When we were students hitch-hiking across Canada, sewing the Canadian flag on your backpack was considering a very smart this to do. Now that all the American students do it too, it's lost it's value. You're more likely to get mistaken for an American masquerading as a Canadian (and having to put up with the disdain that follows that), (or at least suspicion). So, as we fight side by side with the Americans and NATO in the middle east, how is our world profile now? We used to be peace-keepers. Not sure about that anymore.

Then out of the blue on Friday there was Norway. I always thought of Norway as a peace-keeping country too. Out of the way, keeps it's nose clean. In the first few hours after the bombing in Oslo and the massacre on Utoya, it was most commonly thought that Muslim extremists were behind the death toll. The pundits must have been wildly typing away on Google to come up with reasons for "why Norway?". Then the story unfolded... a Norwegian right-wing crazy. Some will judge me for using the "c" word. But really, it's what we all think when we use the word "extremist".  Some will judge me for using the word crazy in the same sentence as "right-wing". Sigh. More on that in another blog.

Then... THEN...there was Stephen Hume in his column on Saturday, July 23 in the Vancouver Sun wanting to warn us that Canada was not immune from attacks either. He told us "[we] are of high value as terror targets... precisely because so many of us don't really believe we are". Now, Stephen Hume is one of my favorite columnists in The Sun, so it was quite a shock to realise I disagreed with him. Lots of Vancourites believe we are potential targets. Maybe if you live on a Gulf Island (oops, I guess islands aren't safe anymore, are they?) instead of Vancouver proper, you don't think about terrorist attacks. But in Vancouver, the people I hang out with think about it lots. There are riots here and surveillance cameras. We had the Olympics and lots of security. That was to protect us from what... joyous Canadians? No, it's because there could have been a bomb at any minute. A lot of us know that "something wicked is bound our way". But, what kind of a life is that to live... to be in a perpetual state of fear? Is it a guy thing... to have not been aware that Canada is a potential target? I think it's possible to not be an ostrich, but not be a gun-toting, electric-fence building, fear mongerer either. Women have always known this...  don't let your fear keep you from going out at night but keep your wits about you. Live each day, be in the moment. Observe. Breathe. Be.

music

How do you find a place for music in your life, in this hectic, fast paced life we lead? And why would you do that anyway? Music is such a huge part of most teenagers' lives. I remember buying my first rock album, Alice Cooper. You know, the one with the bloody picture of Alice hanging from a noose? Freaked my mom right out... she was sure I'd gone over to the dark side, started doing drugs etc. Of course, that wasn't the case at all. But gone over to the dark side of music? Sure I had.

But that's part of the point, right? Music has a lot to do with identity. Here I was moving from Carole King (mom acceptable) to bloody, anti-school rock and roll (not). She was never able to see the virtues of this new "noisy" music I was playing on my purple and hot pink record player (where is that record player now, I wonder?). I thought it was sad, quite a loss for her. After all, my grandmother had to put up with her move from Jim Reeves to Elvis?!? didn't she? And then, what would I do when my kids started to listen to music I didn't like? Would that happen to ... gasp... me too?

Well, I've gotten lucky in a way. Hip hop became the "new" music, and as far as I can tell, no-one in the house likes it! My kids listen to Pink Floyd, and Eric Clapton. (other newer stuff too of course) They've introduced me to Green Day, Jack Johnson, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Arcade Fire. I joined a rock band in September (well, a rock band lesson) and am finally putting 8 years of classical piano lessons to good use. I may buy an electric guitar this week. My band teacher says "there is no better fountain of youth than rock and roll" and I totally believe him. Music increases endorphins when you are anticipating a musical passage that you particularly enjoy. It's also a great workout as I found out during my first lesson back. So, find music that you like and kick back. Mellow, blues, folk or rock. Turn it up as you please (and as your neighbours can tolerate). Relax. Unwind. Rock-on.

doctors

How do you know how good your doctor really is? I've had a lot of contact with the medical profession over the last 2 months. With waiting lists for most appointments, it's hard to be choosy. But I've found there are quite a wide variety of people and personalities who end up in the medical profession. And it's not all good. (it's not all bad either). Kind, compassionate caregivers to dismissive, rude know-it-alls. Also hard to take are the smooth, slick talkers who pretend to know stuff, but really don't. Almost laughable.

But... you're at the whim of whomever happens to snag your chart as you walk into the emergency room. Be polite, give your history as clearly as you can, don't be afraid to be assertive. None of this guarantees the outcome of your choice. After waiting 5 hours for a chest xray that had been promised (and may have prevented my ICU admission), I was told that no xray was going to happen, and left. It's hard not to end up doubting yourself when you feel unwell, but the doctor knows best. Right? Or the time 2 days earlier when I was admitted after a very scary ambulance ride because I couldn't breath, only to be diagnosed as "psychiatric" because I'd had 2 1/2 drinks and was babbling... likely a delirium from the sepsis I was just about to come down with. Where's House when ya need him???

But being the optimist that I am (and with the encouragement of a very wise friend of mine) I kept going back to this very same hospital and wound up being seen by one of the good ones. Who did the right tests, finally did the xray, referred me to the right specialist, basically saved my life. Met lots more of them over the next several weeks. Amazing, caring nurses too. Some of the better doctors apologized... we're all human aren't we? This is the reason I teach first year medical students year after year. Their very first interviewing course. How to take a history. How to listen to patients. How to make a diagnosis 80% of the time by talking to the patient. How to treat patients with respect, empathy and compassion. See the patient seeking help from you as individual with an illness, not as the "non-cardiac chest pain in bed 3". When I teach again this September, I'll have quite the story to tell. What to aim for, things to avoid. Take the extra time to think outside the box. Every so often, things are not what they seem. How you want to be treated. Care. Listen. See.