Biennale Inspiration

In 2012, Fort Kochi hosted it’s first Biennale Art Exhibition. Spanning the entire region of 

Kochi, hundreds of artists, Indian and international, display their works in buildings, on street corners, in parks, and cafes. Multi media and numerous sensory expressions could be found everywhere. Paul and I loved the one price ticket that allowed us to go in and out of displays all over the city.

This year, Biennale has returned and we, once again, are experiencing the vast array of artistic offerings by artists .Some of what we see is particularly unique and inspiring. Some can be (at least from my perspective) somewhat silly and self-indulgent. Yesterday I wandered through an inviting park, especially designed by Valsan Koorma Kolleri for Biennale attendees. Alone for almost an hour, I sat on a rock and wrote…

There’s a place I used to know. I found it today. I used to play here!

There are various shades of green scattered on the earth. The palms reach tall and the tree trunks spread outwards. Their branches provide playgrounds for the birds.

I played here long ago. The swing still dangles lopsided from a rope on a nearby tree, even now. The fallen woods pile high and the brittle leaves make crunching sounds as I walk.

Crows laugh. They don’t remember long ago. They never played here. But I did!

I used to play here! I cartwheeled through the heaps of composted soil. I hid under giant stones that were left alone to settle. I sat quietly and still as the ants crawled on my naked skin and the gentleness of the breeze swooshed them away.

I listened to the crows as they laughed at me until I became familiar. And then, we laughed together.

I clambered up ropes left behind by the fisherman and smelled the tastes of the sea.

I got lost in the luxurious bushes and looped my way around until finally I found my way.

I found my way…the place where I used to play.

P.P.T.- Person/Place/Thing

Making decisions can be challenging, especially ones that we think are life setting. That’s why when one of our daughters completed her undergraduate degree in Montreal, I responded strategically to her query. “What am I going to do now?” she asked. “I don’t really know what I want to happen in my life.”

A preconception for me in working with people, is the belief that each one of us has the information we need to make healthy and good decisions. Helping others, I’ve found, is best practised by first realizing that withholding suggestions validates the other person’s awareness. Recognizing that each of us needs to use our own resources is essential. Asking the right questions, therefore, inspires others to self reflect. Sometimes information we already have becomes overwhelming and confusing. It simply needs to be organized differently. This tool is meant to organize information.

Shira was confused.

“Well”, I responded, “What’s the most important thing for you right now? Is it person, place or thing?”

From that point I created an organizational tool for decision making that I have found very helpful over the years and I’ve used it in many different situations for coaching others.

Bliss

The way it works is simple. First is an understanding that all three components are important, and at different times in our life, the priority shifts.

For instance, when I became old enough to make my own decisions and left home, I was 14 years old. At that time in my life place was the most important thing. I wanted to live in Israel, on a kibbutz, so I could farm fresh food and live in a communal environment where people took care of each other and created healthy cooperative living. I also escaped the United States at a time of war. Richard Nixon was President. The U.S. was heavily into Viet Nam. My brothers were both eligible for the army, and both of them could be deferred because we had enough resources to ‘get them out’. I was uncomfortable, even then, with the inequity of that situation, where those with enough resources could escape the draft, while most could not. I lived in dark, heavy, dirty New York City and craved the lightness and brightness of nature.

 I also needed to go to school, so thing became the next priority. Instead of a kibbutz, I found a ‘mosad’ - a boarding school environment in Israel that focussed first on school and second on agriculture. There I finished High School, acquiring American qualifications that would enable me to complete post secondary education and acquire teacher certification. At that time people didn’t rate at all since I didn’t know anyone in Israel anyway and quite frankly it didn’t matter.

For the past 40 years my priority has been person. My children are what drove my decisions. Proper schooling, appropriate accommodations and comfortable living motivated my decisions once I had kids. Thing came second, because I had to support them, and getting a job was important. So finding the right place to teach and share my skills was also a priority. Place was significant only insofar as the children needed to be close to their father from whom I was separated.

As I transition in to a new stage of my life, person drives my choices. I will go anywhere in the world, and do anything, as long as it is with my partner. It’s person, too, because together we never want to be far from our kids. Place is second because living on Gabriola is, for now, an adventure we welcome and embrace. Travelling is another inspiration as I am still inspired by learning about diversity in our universe and welcoming new adventures while I still can. Thing is least important right now, as we transition into retirement. What we do and how we do it is made much easier with the flexibility and possibilities we have with our new found freedom.

Our daughter has thrived since her initial dilemma. She settled in Toronto with her (then) boyfriend and got involved with work that inspired her to pursue higher learning. She now has an MBA and is happy living in Toronto creating the life she carves for herself. She embraces change regularly, unthreatened by the challenges of difficult choices and possible slip ups.

Life offers us the adventure of change. When we are thrown off our familiar course, it is not unusual to feel confused, uncertain, and extra cautious. I want to welcome change and not be afraid. This coming year, my 61^st, will be an adventure, and mindfully, I want to embrace it with joy and understanding, surrounded by the love of people in my life, settled in to the places that help me feel good, engaged in those things that contribute to my state of bliss! For now…

Happy New Year 2015

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2015 looms just hours away! Our world is confusing right now, no doubt. Our young people seem baffled about their futures, so many contemplating work possibilities while still seeking balance with free time and fun. Uncertainty prevails.

It seems similar with my own cohorts too! Many of my friends are approaching ages of equanimity and awe. Change is imminent and possibilities are grand. I am at a stage of my life where everything I’ve always dreamed of is achievable.

My word for 2015 is awesome! I am aware of the complexities in our world. Sometimes I feel frightened about the unknown of what could happen. Random terrorist attacks, natural disasters that happen in response to our misuse of environment, disease and death resulting from toxins and poisons that we continue to ingest. To some degree, we as a civilization have not learned how to deal with the changes and complexities in our evolving world. I think we need to start zeroing in on what we have learned, and begin to fine-tune our journey to create a cleaner, safer and more productive world!

During my first few teaching years, I taught grade one children. I always say that in grade one, children come to class in September with their fingers up their nose and their thumbs in their mouths. They leave grade one as literate human beings no longer learning to read, but in pursuit of reading to learn. Learning is about being exposed to everything and absorbing only little bits at a time. We need time to process change to successfully grow.

Contrary to conventional lesson planning, my ‘reading’ classes were about ‘hanging out’ on the floor reveling in the experience and joy of books. Children lying on the floor, sitting together, or cuddled up in my lap were happily devouring a variety of picture books. Some ‘read’ upside down, simply making up words that told a story that they wanted to tell. Some children just simply carried the book, becoming comfortable with it in their hands, getting the ‘feel’ of books. Some children looked at the pictures and, not able to read the words, made up their own stories. Sometimes, since I had read the book to them so often, individual children would be able to read the book to each other by memorization.

The new skill of reading began with total immersion - an exercise in becoming familiar and comfortable with resources and concepts available for reading. Once the students settled in and demonstrated a comfort with books, I began the practice of teaching specific reading skills like phonics, word recognition, looking for meaning in text and pictures, fluency and critical thinking. That specific attention to skill development happens best once we have identified how a child will learn best, and only when he/she is ready to weed through the abundance of context to acquire and improve specific skills.

Maybe this won’t make sense, but I think the way my grade one children learned to read reflects the way we all learn to live a happy life!

I feel a little like that now. My life for the last few years has been an immersion in semi-retirement, and a push towards a life that is very different from my experiences of the last 40 years. I no longer have children at home. I have greatly reduced the hours I work in classrooms and universities. I go exploring in the world and travel to places that I never dreamed I’d see. My body is aging and functions differently from when I was younger. Mortality is ahead in the future. And I am less afraid about death and even about living!

I feel good about the future. I sit in meetings with young, energetic, smart teachers who are passionate about learning and living and teaching. I see a genuine focus on developing healthy communities in our cities and on world improvement through environmental repair and a healing of relationships. More people talk about the need for love and compassion when negotiating complex decision-making, conflict resolution and solving challenging problems in our world. Our own children are independent, committed to their work, their lives and bettering the lives of others. I still feel eager and able to give back to our generous universe.

As I anticipate the final decades of my life, I feel confident and strong. My shift in priorities becomes more obvious and my journey continues with clarity and intention. I am looking forward to a strong future of carefully crafted activities specifically focused on a new sense of priority and to the next decade of growth, continued health and adventure! Happy New Year all!

Hawaii

The coral bubbles out of the sea floor, varying shades of yellow...everything from sunshine yellow to pale beige. Every type of fish has some expression of yellow. Schools of bright yellow fish, one looking just like the other, dance together as they twirl through the waters. Hawaiian Hogfish, Trumpet fish, Hawaiian cleaners, Butterfish, Triggerfish and even the Moorish Idol adorned with yellow stripes. Hews of turquoise sometimes show glimmers of yellow. Even the large Honu (Sea turtles) sparkle with various sizes of yellow dots.

  

The turtles on The Big Island are regular residents. Unlike the fish, which primarily travel in schools, the Green Turtles tend to wander alone. They’re quite large and, though they’re not necessarily friendly, they tend to just go about their business without avoiding human encounters. I spend time following turtles when I spot one. They swim through the ocean, their massive span of wing-like flippers delicately flapping through the waters. Occasionally, one turns around, presses it’s turtle nose close to me and then turns back carrying through with his original intention. I am a mere curiosity. Sometimes he nestles under a rock and rest.  I saw at least one turtle every day. I think they’re probably my favourite sea buddies now!

Hawaii is wild! The topography offers spectacular vistas as we drive around the coast of the Big Island. Lush, green forests line the roads. Then black rocky lava loads cover the grounds. Lava rocks intermittently display sprouts of dry spiky clusters of yellow grass. The ocean is visible always, as we make our way north towards the volcano.

I feel a great sense of my parents’ presence. I was here with them more than 30 years ago. It was a gift from them for my 30^th birthday, so memorable, maybe because it was the only one. Their essence is present as I explore.

 

Hula and belly dancing accompany musicians in the cafes and restaurants. Hawaiian people are, generally welcoming and inviting. The music highlights the shrill, high pitch of the ukulele, and the voices compliment the sounds. Proprietors, entertainers, and servers demonstrate a love for their island, engaging vacationers to share it together.

Sometimes it’s hard to believe that we’re in the United States. “There sure are a lot of Americans here!” I said shortly after our arrival on Oahu. It was one of those statements we call ‘Jacquisms’ whose sense of humour targets the obvious. Hawaii is America. Culturally it displays a strong Polynesian and South Asian flavour. Hawaiian language is not English, though most residents speak both.

Daily rainbows span the sky as a gentle “Blessing Rain” settles on the ground and on me. Hawaii is a gloriously beautiful place to be. I definitely feel the blessing!

American Music Awards - 2014

My son picks me up at LAX. I get into the car, and he leans closer to me and says, “Hey mah! I know this isn’t really your thing, but I have 3 tickets for the American Music Awards for tomorrow night. Wanna go?” “Of course”, I respond cautiously. This was an experience I wasn’t going to pass up!

I wasn’t quite sure what I would wear. “The American Music Awards”, I thought to myself. “Isn’t that like, really, big? Don’t I have to wear a gown?” Jonathan and Staci reassured me that ‘casual dress’ was fine, so I chose the nicest attire I had brought with me, borrowed my granddaughter’s brown boots that matched my skirt, and appeared at the front door ready to leave. “Nice” says Jonathan. “You know mom, you don’t need to bring a bag with you. Why don’t you leave it here?”

“Are you sure?” I said.  “I’m totally open to leaving it behind. It has my wallet and glasses though. Is that okay? Will you hold my glasses?” “Sure” he says.

As we get into the Uber cab, I notice that Staci is carrying her purse. “How come? Why didn’t she, also get encouraged to leave hers’ behind?”

Then I realize. My Indian cloth purse adorned with peace signs identifies, just a little, who I am. And who I am is definitely not in line with what I’m about to contend with.

Pop culture is extreme in Los Angeles. Even my 10 year old granddaughter, Stella, listens to pop music whenever she gets a chance, and struggles to emulate what she hears and sees in the entertainment around her. I am reminded how influential that world can be and I struggle with our youth’s obsession with trying to ‘fit in’.  Pop culture creates a vision of unreality and disguised authenticity. Instead of us searching within ourselves for meaning, we find meaning in others and in our outside world. That’s dangerous.

Our Uber cab takes us as close to the theatre as the driver is comfortable. Crowds are thick and noisy, and very well dressed.  Approaching the red carpet is difficult and I am aware of the significance of walking on the famous ‘red carpet’.

The opulence and decadence is everywhere and I’m feeling a little uncomfortable. The people seem a bit unreal… perhaps plastic representations of themselves. I have never seen so many skinny (and I mean really skinny) women in one place. And the clothing, mostly black and mostly scantily covering bodies, spans from the very simple to the extravagant and glittery. The show is in the fashion.  In contrast, I like the simplicity of what Staci and I are wearing. I’m in baggy brown silk pants with a short skirt and a white loose blouse. Staci is in a simple black dress.

Now… I’m not one to live in fear. I don’t generally engage in media hype and I tend to avoid getting involved in other people’s business. I don’t listen to news. Instead, I tend to seek good news events and see positivity and joy around me. The AMA challenged that practice.

 

As I wander down the red carpet towards the entrance to the theatre, I think, “If extremists wanted to attack pop culture, this venue would be the place to do it.” The epitome of pop culture is highlighted right here at The AMA in a city that thrives on the same all year round! I had to reroute my thoughts in order to disengage from those patterns and focus on the event and the unique experience before me.

The music ranges from the ridiculous (Mary Blige’s “Why would I spend the rest of my days unhappy when I can go therapy two times a day?), to the inspirational. Artists like Sam Smith and bands such as One Direction, Imagine Dragons and Magic demonstrated great musicianship in their composition, lyrics and performances. The women performers tended to annoy me, focussing more on the spectacle than on the quality of the music.  Provocative costumes that intentionally accentuated body parts, movements that are sexual in nature and provocative, and obvious invitations of sexual activity with other performers insinuated the focus on sex. I had always thought the AMA’s was about music!

The set designs are overly extravagant. Singers falling out of flaming torches on the stage, and incredible designs with lights and glitter demand attention. Designs that mimic the outdoors with brilliant moon displays are spectacular I just can't help but imagine the millions of dollars that go into these displays, and the better places where this money could be spent.

The women strut and grind their bodies flamboyantly on ornately designed stages. The men paw and gyrate insinuating the more aggressively we act, the more love we receive.

I feel strongly that those people in our lives who become role models should reflect behaviours and qualities that we want to emulate. Media influences the direction of this course. For me, the AMA’s focus too much on sexuality, violence, divisiveness and hype and not enough on music, moral integrity, and talent.

I’m glad I went to the awards. I so appreciate the opportunity and am grateful to Jonathan for making it possible for me to experience. I know it should have been about listening to music and watching the show, but it sure made me think!

Remembrance Day Memories

“What did poppi do in the war, mom?” This was the question my 24 year old daughter asked me this morning. She is on her way to a school assembly with a teacher friend of hers. It’s Remembrance Day in Canada and she realized she didn’t know very much about her own grandfather. He’s my father! And, quite frankly…I don’t know much either!

My father, Sidney David fought in the Second World War. I know this because there are pictures of him as a soldier. I used to hear how during my parent’s courtship, my father was overseas. Those were hard times. My mother would tell me how being separated from him was challenging, and, patriotism in the United States made complaining unfashionable. Both my parents loved being American, and, serving in the US army during W.W. II was an honour.

There are pictures taken from an airplane flying above Hiroshima after the bomb was dropped over the city. I remember seeing those pictures and wondering how that was even possible. I remember my dad casually telling me how he was sent into Hiroshima to help ‘clean up’. I can’t even imagine what that meant. And I never thought to ask.

The only other reference to dad’s army involvement came in the form of an on-going family joke. During our dinners, whenever someone was asked to “pass the salt”, or “Can I have some more carrots?”, it was expected that we would pass it directly on. If one of us served our self before we passed on the requested item, my father would tell us “If you were in the army, you’d be peeling potatoes for a full day!”  With furrowed brows and cynical smiles, inevitably, we all laughed!

I never had those deep conversations with my dad! I never knew about his experiences. He never offered to share. I never asked. I wish I did. I wish I could ask him now. Those stories are lost. There is no one who can tell me about them. Those are my father’s stories, and, like him, they’re gone.

So I persevere to tell my stories to my children. They don’t ask, and sometimes I think they’re not even interested. But I do it anyway, because I know that one day, they’re going to want to know. And I want them to know me! I wish I knew my daddy better!

So that I had more to remember...

I'm back!!!!

Feelin' gooooood!

I’m back! It’s been a good six months since I’ve last posted. I’m not going to say I’ve been busy”. I’ve decided I don’t want to use that expression anymore. The fact is…my life is full!

Maintaining our home takes lots of time and energy. Building structures, creating gardens and managing outdoor living requires daily effort. Because we basically live outside, so much of what we do, happens right under the skies, no matter what the weather provides. So, basically, we need to be ready for anything. That takes effort.

Yurt Living

It sure is getting cold. Making a simple meal takes inspiration! Our new barbecue is great, and, I’ve finally figured out how the temperature works. Our ginger chocolate chip cookies were burned on the bottom. And our Friday night challahs were crispy on the outside and too moist on the inside. I’m learning, now, how to control and manage the baking better. It’s a challenge that just takes time to work through.

Summertime was all about opening our home to family members and friends. We had on-going activity in the summer, hosting many gatherings and providing space for people to gather. We work and play together, making meals, playing music, and simply talking. Winter, however, is when we gladly accept invitations to be with friends in their warm spacious homes.

Work is woven in to the seasons.  The fact is, people exist even during the summer, and my work always involves people. Whether people come from schools and/or school districts, or from food banks or soup kitchens, my work survives even through summer time frolic and, then, into the colder winter months.

This summer Paul and I began the planning of our new house.  The trees have been cleared and there are two piles of beautiful fir planks ready to be used for our floors and ceilings. The ground has been dug and the hole clearly identifies where our house will be. With our builder friends, Marc and Huguette, we painstakingly designed the house, sent the drawings off to the inspector, who ultimately assured us that it is within “the building code’. Cement will be poured within the next two weeks.

Notice the tarp covering 

the kitchen to ward 

off the winds

Meanwhile, winter is in full bloom. I awaken each morning in the dark, and begin dinner preparation late afternoon in the dark. I am finding my biological clock adjusting, and, exhaustion leads to deep sleep before the moon swings across our sky.

The toothpaste is frozen when I go to brush my teeth, and in order to get the conditioner into my hair, I have to ease my finger into the tube to warm the solution before it squeezes through.  Our outdoor shower is glorious with a powerful, pounding spout. When the wind comes, I just have to follow the flow in order to stay under its stream.

And, sometimes, as I gather dry twigs to light the fire in the morning, I sometimes think to myself “What am I doing? I’m almost 60 years old and I’m gathering twigs to keep us warm?”

One of our sons said to me lately, “How do you live like that? Why are you doing this? “

I am living an adventure, no doubt! And…I am immersed in Nature. People pay big bucks for this kind of adventure. I live it daily!  Yurt living keeps me closely in touch with the natural world. Cleaning the dirt, cooking hot meals, maintaining a nice collection of firewood, and loving the time to read, watch movies, create and just ‘be’ is a beautiful alternative to busy living…especially on 
those days ‘off’ from work.

Who woulda’ thunk? Life is full, and rich and wholesome! And, for now, I wouldn’t want it any other way!!!!

Our 'dining room' (in warm weather anyway)