"World Class"

There has been a lot of talk around Edmonton over the past few years, and particularly the last several weeks, about what it takes to be a "world class" city. Ways to distinguish ourselves in this regard have been proposed in the form of elaborate signposts upon entry to the city itself, to the building of a downtown sports arena, to the current apparent passport to world recognition: Expo 2017.

Not surprisingly, I disagree with these things as being any kind of indicator as to the "world-classness" of a city. I would (and do) argue that these kinds of undertakings and endeavors actually do the opposite of what a truly world-class city would do. They glorify the flashy over the solid and dependable. They venerate highly paid entertainers rather than help out citizens in need. They confuse a marketing strategy with making the city a better place to live, for everyone.

The elected representatives of a truly world-class city would focus instead on the things that help their citizens the most, without worrying about image or notoriety. When you do the right thing, you don't have to worry about image or notoriety. So how about trying some of these 'world-class' things instead:

• expand public transit
• re-install public water fountains and encourage people to drink our excellent tap water rather than bottled water
  
• develop walkable and bike-able communities, saving the city's surrounding farmlands from being paved over
• build affordable public housing for the 3000+ homeless people in Edmonton
• protect the fertile farmland in/to the northeast of the city, and protect it for the generations to come
• maintain and retrofit existing infrastructure before building new, fancy, Dubai-esque monuments
  
• encourage businesses and citizens to investigate things like solar power, green roofs, geo-thermal for their businesses and residences
  
• Start converting city-owned buildings with some of the above-mentioned technologies

A city or town that did these sorts of things would soon be recognized far and wide as a pro-active, cutting edge and visionary place which serves its citizens in the long run, rather than staging a few flash-in-the pan publicity stunts. And as a bonus, there are no multi-million dollar application fees.

I doubt that Edmonton City Council reads Lao Tzu, but perhaps they should. Everyone benefits when society, and individuals, choose substance over style:

Return to the state of plain wood
Plain wood splits, then becomes tools
The sages utilize them
And then become leaders

From Derek Lin's translation of the Tao Te Ching, Chapter 28.

Rain and Radishes

It seems fitting somehow that on the day it finally rains, I was able to harvest the first fully grown thing from my garden: radishes. I have been sneaking out some kale and chard leaves, but these are still by all means in the miniature stage. I'm happy to report that the radishes were not bug-eaten at all, and were nicely spicy and crisp. I planted just one small row of radishes this year, since last year I had a huge overabundance of them, and they had become buggy and woody by the time I got them all out of the ground. Last year I just chucked all the radish leaves into the compost too, but this year I am going to try making radish leaf pesto instead!

The rain has left the garden moist and fragrant. Rainwater is so much better for the plants than tap-water, judging by the growth spurt that occurs after the rain falls. There's just nothing more essential than water, yet it can be so easy to take it for granted -- at least until it stops raining.

One of my favorite verses from the Tao Te Ching is about water. I've posted it before, but after last night's welcome rain, it seems to be a good time to post it again. We could all stand to be a little more like water, I think:

Chapter 8

The highest goodness resembles water
Water greatly benefits myriad things without contention
It stays in places that people dislike
Therefore it is similar to the Tao

Dwelling with the right location
Feeling with great depth
Giving with great kindness
Speaking with great integrity
Governing with great administration
Handling with great capability
Moving with great timing

Because it does not contend
It is therefore beyond reproach

Translation by Derek Lin

Theory into Practice

In Tai Chi we do a bunch of warm-up exercises before we do the actual 108-move set itself. Some of these moves have names, and some do not. There are several purposes for these foundation exercises, one of which is to practice certain moves that are embedded in each one of the 108 forms. We do the foundation exercises repeatedly, and our instructor gives us corrections to ensure that we are getting the moves right so that we can do them properly during the set itself. The goal is to incorporate the teachings about the foundation exercises into the set to get the most health benefits out of the exercise. In short, to put theory into practice.

This turns out to be more difficult than one might think. It is one thing to do the same thing over and over again in the same place, and quite another to incorporate the motion into a dynamic set of 108 moves, while trying to maintain one's balance, remember what comes next and move at the same speed as everyone else.

I am finding the same thing happening as I learn and read more about Taoist and Buddhist ideas. I love to sit and read books by Thich Nhat Hanh, Pema Chodron, or lose myself in the latest issue of Shambala Sun magazine. My most recent discovery is the work of Noah Levine, a buddhist who spent some time in jail as a youth. I sit, comfy with some tea, reading the works of these authors. I might nod and smile, agreeing with what's being said, thinking what a good and noble idea it is, and how the world would be a better place if we all put these ideas into action.

After that is where I fall a bit short. It is one thing to feel all warm and fuzzy inside, imagining a world of compassion and caring. It's another to actually behave in a compassionate way when, for example, something very annoying happens at work, or (hypothetically speaking of course!) a politician enacts a policy that you find completely wrong-headed, or a driver cuts you off in traffic. I want to rant and rave, and I often do -- sometimes here, sometimes in the moment itself. And I think unkind thoughts and say unkind words. I am getting a little better at refraining from that, and actually feeling compassion and acting kindly towards others in trying situations, but it is mostly hit-and-miss at this point, depending on what kind of day I'm having.

So it comes back to practice and more practice, decreasing the separation between what I think and say when I'm reading or meditating, and what I actually do when I'm out there, in the world, with its dynamic changes and challenges.

Picture courtesy Western Region Taoist Tai Chi Society

Jail: A crash course in nonattachment

The ideas of attachment and non-attachment are things I ponder regularly. On a regular basis something comes along to show me that I am more attached to something than I should be. I'm getting a bit better at being less attached to having things or buying things, but I am only just becoming aware of how attached I am to having things turn out the way I want them to, and to having people act or think the way I want them to. I am also quite attached to having things progress along a certain time frame, in a certain order. I like some things to be 'just so' - that way, I feel comfortable and at ease.

And I like that.

Just ask Gord how out of sorts I get if something I've planned has to be changed, or if I take a wrong turn on a road somewhere and suddenly don't know where to go next. I can really come undone when stuff like that happens, particularly if I'm under more stress than usual, or I'm over-tired.

As I've mentioned before, I work in a jail. Jail is a place where people learn to get over their attachments, and fast. Personal belongings are confiscated and stored. Even things like wedding rings and personal pictures of family can be taken away and put in to storage. Putting on standard issue coveralls makes everyone look like everyone else, right down to your socks and underwear - your 'outside' identity is traded in for an 'inside' number. Your 'outside' timetable and priorities are unimportant - you are told what to do and when to do it. You are dependent on 'the system' and those who work in it for your food and water, clothes and lodging. You can be transferred from cell to cell, unit to unit, or jail to jail without notice. And you won't necessarily be able to let your family or your lawyer know before you leave.

Those who have the hardest time with all this are those who had the most 'normal' lives before coming to jail. Those who adapt the most quickly are those who, by societal standards, had nothing before they arrived: the homeless, the mentally ill. There are exceptions to this of course, but I am usually struck the most by the grace with which the latter adapt to these circumstances. They appreciate the sparse cot, the chance for a hot shower, and three meals a day. They take each thing as it comes.

I don't want to romanticize the idea of jail: it is a harsh and dangerous environment in many ways, and I would advise staying out of it! But I consider myself lucky to be able to learn from those 'inside' who have mastered the art of non-attachment.

Politics and Attachment

Over the past couple of years I have been working on getting better at remaining unattached to things, ideas and outcomes. Both Taoism and Buddhism make reference to striving for non-attachment. As I understand it, Buddhism sees attachment to the idea of a separate self as the root of all suffering.

"Everything changes. Everything is impermanent. It is our attempt to attach ourselves to impermanent things, and gain happiness thereby, that guarantees and perpetuates suffering. "

Taoism has a similar, but different take: in recognizing that all things are One, we don't need to distinguish between or make value judgments among things, and so we can remain unattached from the 'pull' of valuing one thing over another.

When you lose your attachment from “this and that”, you can then see that in reality all things are the same. By doing so you lose the attachment to “things” and awaken the attachment that has always existed between you and the source (Tao).

I've been getting a bit better at lessening my cravings for/attachments to certain things, like a new TV, or food to taste a certain way after I cook it, or having my plans go as planned. But where I have not made any progress at all is in the realm of my political expectations. This has been made quite clear to me in my reaction to the most recent political events in Canada, particularly last week's decision by the Governor General to prorogue Canada's parliament. I became mad, irrationally mad about it. I was in turns tearful, angry and nauseated. I wanted things to go a certain way (i.e., for the GG to tell Stephen Harper that he would have to face the non-confidence vote scheduled for today, December 8th, and deal with the consequences.) I was depending on this outcome for my happiness, and when it didn't happen, I suffered. I brought this suffering on myself, by expecting and hoping and wishing for a certain outcome. I had even built this up in my head to the point that I felt that everyone who wished for a different outcome than me was wrong. This lead to yet more suffering.

How to balance these things? How to be engaged and interested in political matters without becoming dependent on or attached to certain outcomes? How to be vocal and enthusiastic while not putting all one's emotional eggs in one basket?

I have no answer to this one. I have not yet found the balance point between engagement and entanglement, certainly not when it comes to the political leadership of this country I live in. Venerable Wuling wrote a few days ago about ancient Bodhisattvas and how they used 'window shopping' to hone their meditative abilities: while they looked at all the items on display in the bazaar, they were able to not be tempted by them. Perhaps the answer lies in there somewhere - in seeing political outcomes as similar to items put up for sale. I can pick them up and look them over, checking out their component parts and their price tags. And I can put them back down again, informed but not hooked.

If this is the case, then I will have to give up the one defense mechanism I had so far developed to cope with political disappointment - turning away from the fray. Instead, I will have to return to the 'bazaar' world of politics and practice looking things over until I am no longer tempted to latch on to one outome or another. That's not going to be easy.

Cartoon courtesy Dharma Cat

Breathing in the World

I'm not quite sure how to write about this - my ideas are not yet fully formed. But maybe that's ok. We'll just see how it goes.

Over the last few days I've been reading the short stories and articles in a book I picked up at my favorite used book store a while ago, called Best Buddhist Writing 2006. One of the first articles I read this weekend talked about how our the idea that we are separate individuals, distinct from other people and other things is an illusion. A delusion, really.

David Loy, author of the article "Ego Goes Global," puts it this way:

"The most fundamental delusion, individually and collectively, is our sense of a self/other duality -- that "I" am inside and the rest of the world is outside. "

In another article in the same volume, Judith Toy speaks about learning how to stop and enjoy her breathing, and how doing so was one step on the way to unexpectedly forgiving the boy who murdered three of her family members years prior. About breathing, she says,

"I was welcomed into paradise through noticing my breath. The breath became the gateway to my heart....the rising sun, the sound of sirens, a crying child, the squealing of brakes, a Mozart sonata, even a war -- reminds me to breathe, to breathe in a universe that, while full of anguish, will always, always breathe with me."

And there it was, the way to dissolve the delusion of duality: breathe. I breathed. Fully and mindfully for the first time, I think. As I breathed, I felt the air being shared by the universe and my lungs, back and forth. A cooperative ebb and flow with no distinction between inside and out, just a giving and receiving. No difference between "me" and "it," just unified flow of all things. I slept easily and well that night, for the first time in many years.

It reminded me the next day of an activity called "push hands" in Tai Chi. This is a practice where two people keep their hands and/or forearms touching at all times, moving forward and backwards as a means to develop responsiveness and sensitivity. To see people doing this, you would think it was a pre-rehearsed set of movements, but it is not. It is instead a balanced and dynamic flow of responsiveness to the movements of one another. It's hard to describe, but you can see a short video of what it looks like here. It's a transcendent thing - there's no you and me, just conjoined unity, sort of what the yin-yang symbol represents.

All I can say is, try it. Try breathing while being mindful of the flow of the universal atmosphere moving in and out and see if you can notice the dissolution of self into the myriad things. Imagine, now, the consequences if people could shed themselves of the delusion of duality and feel the very intimate connection with the universe, as we literally take in and release a part of it with each and every breath.

Push hands picture courtesy this tai chi website.

Ecological "Credit Crunch" gets a mention at last

This afternoon I came across this article on the CBC website. I was a bit startled to see it at first - I've become so used to environmental things being ignored that it surprises me when anything related to environmental sustainability actually gets published in the mainstream media.

The article talks about things that readers of this blog are likely quite familiar with: that we are increasingly outstripping the carrying capacity of our planet, and that we in the the 'western' world are the worst debtors of all in this regard.

A quick internet search revealed that September 23rd was this year's Ecological Debt Day - the day that the people of the earth had already used up the planet's capacity to generate resources and absorb waste for that year. In 2008 we will consume and excrete 140% of what the earth can give and take. According to the Global Footprint Network, humans first exceeded the earth's biocapacity in 1986, and each year we exceed it earlier and earlier.

This 'financial crisis' we're going through in the world now really pales in comparison. When we're cannibalizing our planet and poisoning it at the same time, it seems pointless to get too worried about some numbers on a scale that go up and down each each day, representing some kind of abstract derivative financial 'product'. How is it that the surreal and abstract became so important and the real and concrete faded into invisibility? Paradoxes like these always stretch my brain.

The Tao Te Ching is full of paradoxes too - maybe that's why I like is so much. I came across a modern interpretation of this text a short while ago. Here are a couple quotes to ponder from that version - I've bolded some of the lines that seem to get to the crux of the matter for me:

Chapter 19:

Get rid of sanctity.
People will understand the truth
and be happier.

Get rid of morality.
People will respect each other
and do what's right.

Get rid of value and profit.
People will not steal
if they do not desire.

If that's not possible, go to Plan B:
Be simple. Be real.
Do your work as best you can. Don't think about what you get for it. Stay focused. Get rid of all your crap.

And from Chapter 24:

Keep your feet firmly planted
unless you want to fall on your face.
Learn how to pace yourself
if you want to get anywhere.
Don't call attention to yourself
if you want people to notice your work.

Nobody respects people
who always have excuses.
Nobody gives credit to people who always take it.
People who hype themselves
have nothing else to offer.

Think of being in touch with Tao
like eating at a buffet:
Take only what you need.
Save some for everybody else.

It's way past time we stopped gorging ourselves at a buffet that was meant for everyone, for all generations, and rediscovered joyful moderation. And, of course, it's time I took my own advice and stepped up what I can do to only use my fair share.

Why I like Tai Chi

This weekend Gord and I went to a Taoist Tai Chi "Dual Cultivation" Seminar. We have been going to tai chi classes together for just over two years now, and I have learned a lot. There are so many things to learn from tai chi, and this weekend's workshop was a good example of the range of this good stuff.

First of all, there's the satisfaction I get from being able to do something physical that I enjoy. It's strenuous enough to work up a sweat, but slow enough that I don't feel like I'm going to drop dead. It's complicated enough to keep my mind busy, but simple enough that I can just 'go with the flow' and not think at all. And, it's a graceful thing. I'm not particularly gifted in terms of physical activity, so feeling graceful while I'm doing something is a real pleasure for me.

Next, there's the tea and cookies. There are always two pots of green tea on the go during class, and a tin of donated cookies as well. People donate money to the tea fund, or just bring the cookies and tea themselves. Either way, there are always enough tea and cookies for everyone, including any guests or observers that may come by.

Then, there's all the nice people. People bring tea and cookies, but are also just polite and kind to each other. Tai chi seems to bring out the best in everyone. There is never any pressure to do more than you can or want to - everyone is just welcomed.

And, there's the whole idea of "dual cultivation" which we learned more about in this weekend's seminar. This means that tai chi is designed to cultivate health in both the body and the mind. Some martial arts or other sports activities focus on physical activity/prowess as the top priority, but in tai chi both mind and body are recognized as interrelated. Our instructor this weekend emphasized this duality a great deal. He spoke specifically about the fourth aim of the Taoist Tai Chi society, which is to selflessly help others. This is elaborated on in the Taoist Tai Chi website, which says,

The foundation of Taoist Tai Chi Society® internal arts and methods is compassion. Our underlying charitable orientation is in keeping with the Taoist values of selflessness and service to others.

Our inspiration is the example set by our founder, Master Moy Lin-shin, who dedicated his life to helping others without seeking personal gain. For this reason, all our instructors are volunteers, and all our branches operate on a non-profit basis. We also perform other services within the community, and assist other charities whenever possible.

After a good day of vigorous tai chi practice, our instructor ended the seminar by saying that helping others is just as much a part of tai chi as the physical exercises are, and that by getting better at the physical part and the mental part, we are in a better position to do the helping part. And, the helping part puts us in a better frame of mind to learn and practice the physical and mental parts.

And that's the main reason that I really like tai chi: because it not only talks about the interconnection of all things, it actually is a way to live out that interconnection.

Nothing or Something?

This weekend Gord and went 'out' and did three different things in one night: we went to a movie at the cheap theatre (and saw Wall-E), we went for snacks afterward at a nearby restaurant and then went to see a live comedy show (Gord had been given free tickets). This kind of "going out" is a rarity for us - we talk about going out for dinner and a movie but we never seem to actually go. I'd say we do get out for a movie about once a year, maybe.

We had a great time doing all these things this weekend - the movie was adorable and the comedy hilarious! The snacks were just passable, making me appreciate home-cooked things even more than I already do. The evening's events got me thinking, though:

How often when someone asks what you've been doing do you say, "oh, nothing much." It occurred to me that if someone asked me what I did this weekend I would have three whole things to talk about for a change, instead of saying, "oh, nothing."

But I always feel vaguely uneasy saying I did "nothing much," because my weekends are usually full of all sorts of stuff, like cooking or baking, gardening, reading books, having tea, sitting on the porch, blogging, doing laundry, doing yardwork, cleaning the guinea pigs' cage, playing with the guinea pigs, making supper, doing dishes, visiting family, reading blogs, thinking about stuff and talking to Gord about it, etc. Is this nothing? Or is it something? And if it is indeed 'something,' then why don't I talk about it like I would talk about having gone to dinner and a movie?

I've just finished reading Sharon Astyk's book, Depletion and Abundance. In it, she talks about the "home front" and how really important things happen at home. For example, the growing and preparing of food, the working together as a couple or a family, the learning of self-sufficient tasks and teaching these to others, the taking care of each other in everyday, simple ways. This stuff might not make headlines, but it sure doesn't sound like 'nothing.'

Chapter 4 of the Tao Te Ching also has something to say about the paradoxical fullness of nothing:

The Tao is empty
When utilized, it is not filled up
So deep! It seems to be the source of all things

It blunts the sharpness
Unravels the knots
Dims the glare
Mixes the dusts

So indistinct! It seems to exist
I do not know whose offspring it is
Its image is the predecessor of the Emperor

I don't pretend to know exactly what this chapter all means, but I do know that the kind of things that could be considered doing nothing, are the exact things I need to keep me going and to feel contentment and gratitude. Indeed, my weekends of 'nothing' can certainly become "the source of all things" that keeps me going throughout the week.

So the next time someone asks me what I've been up to, maybe I'll say with an enigmatic smile, "nothing, and everything."

Candles

People who read this blog now and then may have noticed that I have a tendency to be all enthusiastic and hopeful sometimes, and all upset and ranty at other times. I would like to be more consistently hopeful and uplifting in the things that I post, but sometimes life just "grinds my crackers" as our lovable blogger Crunchy Chicken would say.

I've enjoyed Crunchy's Blog for quite a while - I think hers was the second 'green' blog I started reading, right after No Impact Man. These and many other bloggers (see sidebar!) have given me hope and lifted my spirits many times over the past two years or so. Even their rants make me hopeful, because when we get mad in the name of a good cause and then do something about it, we reclaim just a little bit more of our voice, our citizenship, and even our humanity.

Just recently I came across another blog, called A Buddhist Perspective. And I found it just at the time when I needed to collect myself, quiet my spirit and just slow down. Funny how things happen like that - a Taoist wu wei moment while finding a Buddhist blog - is that neat or what? And lo and behold, right around the same time I found another Alberta blogger, SoapBoxTech who is concerned about the environment too, and who is looking to reject greed and 'nudge people awake'.

While smiling about my two new finds, a line from a childhood song popped into my mind: "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine." And then I thought: All these blogs, they are like candles. They are little lights, shining in the darkness. Each of these blogs represents a person or a group of people who are passionate about the whole of the Earth, and who want to live simply and gratefully within its means. And they aren't afraid to talk about it - About the ups and downs, the hopes and the frustrations.

Thanks to all of you for shining, especially when times seem dark.

Greed and Disconnection

Late last week I was sitting at my desk at work over lunch, thinking about a complex and persistent work-related problem. I won't get into what the problem was, but I had this thought all of a sudden, which said: "Disconnection is the root of all evil." Then my thoughts said, well no, everyone says it's greed that's the root of all evil. So then I figured, "disconnection and greed must be related somehow."

So I pondered on that for a minute, imagining myself when I am greedy and what I'm doing and feeling and thinking at the time of the greed. (Since I was gobbling down my banana tofu pudding at the time, the imagining wasn't all that hard.) And it dawned on me then: greedy acts cut us off from everything and everyone except the immediate physical and mental sensations of the greedy desire being filled. It's almost like a trance state of some kind, that distances a person from outside awareness.

Greed is the ultimate in narcissism. Greed is being cut off from last part of the equation that more for me means less for you. Greed even separates me from the rest of myself, because I lose sight of the consequences of my greedy behavior while I focus only on the sensations that come along with immediate, selfish gratification. Like when I gulp down the pudding, and I'm just focussed on the tasting and gulping. When that's happening I don't think of the fact that I'm lucky to have pudding (or anything) to eat, or that there are people who will never taste pudding in their entire life.

I remember the same kind of thing happening when I would go shopping. I would get into a mindset where I was focussed just on the thing I wanted to buy, and I would dismiss any and all arguments against purchasing it. I have a five hundred dollar PDA device sitting unused in my backpack as testament to an episode of zombie-like consumption I had a couple years ago. I was convinced I needed that thing and no information to the contrary was going to dissuade me.

I think greed has such a distancing effect that at times we don't even know we are being greedy. We are so used to consuming what ever we want, whenever we want to, that it becomes normal to over-eat, over-buy, over-indulge in all sorts of ways. Eventually we become de-sensitized -- our senses become dulled from continuous over stimulation. We become disconnected from ourselves, and we don't know the difference between being fulfilled, and just being filled.

How can we recognize greed sooner, before the trance-mode of sensory over-stimulation sets in?

Lately I've been captivated by taking close-up pictures of things. Like the picture up there, of the little drop of water caught in the corn seedling after this weekend's rainfall. Who knew corn could catch rain and save it, directing it right down into itself? Stopping and looking at things, at the little small tiny things has helped me to re-sensitize myself. To look at what's right in front of me, and appreciate it and marvel at it. To recalibrate myself, somehow. When I consciously take time to look at the very ordinary, very humble things, it seems to lower my sensory threshold and I only need a little of any kind of sensation for it to register in my sensorium. This recalibration is helping me to be joyful in moderate circumstances. It is a meditative process that is helping me to reject greed, at least some of the time.

Edited to add Chapter 12 of the Tao Te Ching, which speaks to this issue well I think:

The five colors make one blind in the eyes
The five sounds make one deaf in the ears
The five flavors make one tasteless in the mouth

Racing and hunting make one wild in the heart
Goods that are difficult to acquire make one cause damage

Therefore the sages care for the stomach and not the eyes
That is why they discard the other and take this

Letter sent, letters planned

So I finally sent the letter to my Alberta MLA earlier this week, by email and regular post. I was able to get it down to one double sided page, with some creative editing and by simplifying the font and maxing out the page margins. I'm reasonably happy with how it turned out, in that it provides an overview of some the things involved in a 'joyfully moderate" lifestyle (as David Wann would say) while pointing out some specific concerns and ideas. We'll see what kind of response I get back, if any.

I have a couple more letters brewing in my head that I will be composing over the next few weeks. I really want to send one to the Premiere again, because I am extremely unimpressed with his handling of the matter of the ducks that drowned in a toxic, oily tailings lake. I will be sending a letter to the so-called provincial Environment minister as well. It will take some effort to keep these letters written in a civil tone, I can tell that already.

I'm also going to write to our municipal council and mayor about all the farmland that is being sold off around here to be turned into acreage subdivisions. We live in an acreage subdivision ourselves, and I guess the only thing that keeps me from being a complete hypocrite is that our subdivision is quite old and was never farmland. It was aspen forest though, so I'll need to tread carefully and take care to remain humble and not contentious. In both the letters and life in general.

Tao Te Ching, Chapter 8

The highest goodness resembles water
Water greatly benefits myriad things without contention
It stays in places that people dislike
Therefore it is similar to the Tao

Dwelling with the right location
Feeling with great depth
Giving with great kindness
Speaking with great integrity
Governing with great administration
Handling with great capability
Moving with great timing

Because it does not contend
It is therefore beyond reproach

As translated by Derek Lin

Alberta town moves to ban styrofoam

I didn't do anything particularly special for Earth Day today, but the Alberta town of Turner Valley sure did -- their council members voted unanimously to ban the use of styrofoam in their town:

Garry Pollock, the councillor championing the ban, said Monday night's decision was historic.

"We're excited because oil and gas [in Alberta] is first recognized to be discovered here in Turner Valley," he said. "It's nice to be on board on Earth Day to be the first in Alberta and in Canada to look at the prohibition of Styrofoam."

It's great to see individuals, small groups and municipal governments leading the way with measures like these. Maybe one day the provincial and federal governments will also wake up and realize that things need to change. My cynical self says that they will somehow manage to take credit for all the work done so far, but I suppose I shouldn't let that bother me. It just matters that it gets done, not who gets the credit:

Tao Te Ching Chapter 77:

As it acts in the world, the Tao
is like the bending of a bow.
The top is bent downward;
the bottom is bent up.
It adjusts excess and deficiency
so that there is perfect balance.
It takes from what is too much
and gives to what isn't enough.

Those who try to control,
who use force to protect their power,
go against the direction of the Tao.
They take from those who don't have enough
and give to those who have far too much.

The Master can keep giving
because there is no end to her wealth.
She acts without expectation,
succeeds without taking credit,
and doesn't think that she is better
than anyone else.

Translation courtesy S. Mitchell

The Tao of Tea?

It's funny how sometimes when I'm at work, my green efforts are somewhat lackluster. It seems like when I'm at work, where my activities are so different from at home, that I forget to do the green things I would do automatically at home. I am reasonably good about bringing my lunch to work, so I don't buy pre-packaged stuff from the cafeteria, and I do bring home my baggies and containers to wash and reuse. But my weakness had been my teacup warmer.

I'm sure you've seen these little hotplate-like devices, that keep your hot beverage relatively hot for hours on end. I got mine for Christmas from a co-worker several years ago when we still did an office present exchange. I used it every day, sometimes even burning my tongue because of how hot it kept my tea! There were even times when I would accidentally leave it on overnight, coming to work the next day to a well-cooked cup of tea-goo.

I've been feeling more and more guilty using this thing lately, thinking that I really don't need my tea to be kept at a certain temperature. Surely I could do better at remembering to drink it while it is hot, and just dealing with drinking some of it cold, if I left it too long. So last week I unplugged the thing, and it sits on my desk now as a slightly elevated cup holder. I may just put it away and bring out my little cup pillow instead, that has herbs in it that smell nice when warmed by the teacup resting upon it.

The more I think about it, the more it seems like one of the lessons of tea is that there is a time for everything. That just as it takes time to make a good cup of tea, there comes a point when the tea cools down and tea-time is over. And that the in between time is made for enjoying and savoring the tea while it lasts. In the bustle of the day, it is good to take time for tea, and good to get back to work afterwards.

Alberta Election 2008: it's been hard to stress less in March...

It's taken me a few days to deal with my disappointment, and anger, over the results of the latest Alberta provincial election. Despite all the media hype about the electorate being ready for a big change, nothing really changed. The Conservative party, who have been in power for 37 years, actually increased their majority to the point where they now hold 72 of 83 seats in the Legislative Assembly. Voter turnout was embarrassingly low too, at 41%. Yipee, more 'democracy,' Alberta style.

So I moped around for a few days, muttering discontentedly to who ever would listen, or to myself if there was no one around. My Green Party lawn sign has been taken back inside, to wait for a Federal election, whenever that may be. Yesterday, while I was moping and muttering some more (to myself --it's gone back to business as usual around here everywhere but in my head, I think), I remembered reading something by Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh a month or two ago, about writing "love letters" to our politicians instead of negative protest-type letters. And I figured, we've got (at least) another 4-5 years of this guy and this party--I can't just sit around and mope for 5 years.

So, in the spirit of using what we've got, and making like water that encounters a rock, I've decided to do what I can to try and engage with this Premier and my local MLA, and talk to them in language that they can understand, about the things that matter to me. I'm going to write them yet another letter, and maybe even screw up my courage and make a telephone call or two. I've got to do some serious thinking about how best to phrase things in a way that can get through to these guys, who seem to value The Economy over all other things. I'm open to any and all suggestions on this front, because this isn't a type of writing or talking I'm used to doing.

I encourage everyone to write to their elected representatives too, because when a politician gets one letter each from ten people on a certain topic, it has a much stronger impact than getting ten letters from one person.

In the meantime, I'm glad that Chile's Stress Less in March challenge has given me the kick in the pants I needed to get up earlier in the morning every day this week for some stress-busting meditation and Tai Chi.

Picture of 1970's election coverage courtesy the Glenbow museum, when the government in power was still the same one we have now.

Thanksgiving and the One Hundred Things

Back in the Summer, Pea at the Mustard Seed Journal wrote a post about what many of the people at the Riot for Austerity 90% Reduction group were doing as part of their efforts to reduce life's excesses. To really examine which possessions are necessary ones. The idea was to come up with a list of 100 versatile belongings, considered essential by that person to live one's life. One of the Rioters proposed some guidelines, and online discussion ensued.

I didn't partake in the discussion (I'm still more of a lurker in the 90% Reduction group, even though I'm also working on the 90% reduction goals), but after reading Pea's article the idea has been in the back of my mind. As Canadian Thanksgiving approaches, it's been much more in the front of my mind. I find myself looking at things here at home and asking myself, "Would that [insert doodad here] be on my list?" Most of the time I can quickly answer, "No."

I have so much stuff. We have so much stuff. Most of this stuff I/we do not need. I have over 100 books, let alone all the other stuff. I have a cozy home, food to eat, clothes to wear, a good job, and a family to love and love me back. For these things I am truly thankful. What do I need with all this other stuff?

As I looked around and saw all the things that wouldn't be on my list, my perspective shifted and suddenly I felt lighter, even relieved somehow. I like these things I have around me, but I don't need them. I became more detached from them, right then, in that moment. I need to find at least some of these things a better home.

I'll ask the same question Pea asked: What would be on your list? And my own question: what wouldn't be?

Chapter 48

Pursue knowledge, daily gain
Pursue Tao, daily loss

Loss and more loss
Until one reaches unattached action
With unattached action, there is nothing one cannot do

Take the world by constantly applying non-interference
The one who interferes is not qualified to take the world

Tao Te Ching, translated by Derek Lin

Image courtesy this flickr site

A Tai Chi moment

I was at Tai Chi earlier this week and for a very brief time, maybe the span of about 10 moves, I had the amazing sensation of not thinking. I only realized this in retrospect, when I was thinking again, and it made me smile. I hadn't been trying to concentrate or looking for any sort of profound experience or sensation beforehand, I was just doing the 108-move tai chi set with everyone else in our class. I had no expectations because nothing like this had ever happened before.

For a little while there it was just me and my body, moving in time with everyone else, with no cognitive intrusions of any kind, just a peaceful, contented feeling of movement and being. That's never happened to me before, ever, in anything I've ever done.

I find myself hoping to experience it again, but I know if I chase it, it will never come. It is tricky going back to having no expectations though.

Chapter 47

Without going out the door, know the world
Without peering out the window, see the Heavenly Tao
The further one goes
The less one knows

Therefore the sage
Knows without going
Names without seeing
Achieves without striving

TTC, as translated by Derek Lin

The Tao of Soup?

Ok, ok, I know that's a bit of a weird title. But I had a neat Taoist reminder today while making soup.

It is getting a bit chilly out, and it is officially Fall now, so I wanted to make some soup, potato soup in particular. I didn't have any vegetable stock, so I had to make some, which I've never done before. Fortunately, there was a recipe for vegetable stock in the latest edition of Mother Earth News magazine, which just came in the mail yesterday. Also fortunately, I was able to collect a lot of the ingredients for the stock from our little vegetable and herb garden: carrots, celery leaves, parsley, oregano, chives and some fresh basil...mmm! The potatoes I bought at the Farmer's market and they came from Erdmann's Gardens, which is only about 10 kms from our house. I did end up putting some non-local things in there, like some onion and some dried herbs, sea salt and pepper corns and a bit of soy sauce. Oh, and two cloves from the head of garlic I got with my seed order from Saltspring Seeds, but it was still probably one of the most locally-sourced things I've cooked so far.

Anyway, back to the Tao part. I had simmered the stock for about 20 minutes when I thought I would taste a bit of it. It was watery, and I was disappointed. I immediately thought about what I should do to fix it, what else I could add, etc., etc. Then it hit me: I am supposed to let this simmer for hours. So I managed, with some difficulty, to just leave it alone and let it simmer, with the occasional stir and taste now and then. After about 2 1/2 hours it was quite delicious. This was a lesson to me that sometimes I just need to let things be, and they will work out as they should. It is a lesson I need frequent reminders about, being the well-intentioned meddler that I am.

From the Tao Te Ching, Chapter 63:

Act without acting
Manage without meddling
Taste without tasting

From Chapter 64:

The one who meddles will fail
The one who grasps will lose
Therefore, sages do not meddle and thus do not fail
They do not grasp and thus do not lose

Of Raspberries and Hummingbirds

Yesterday was hot. Really hot. It has been hot all week but yesterday we were out working in the yard because our topsoil was delivered and we had to do some prep work around the yard so it can be spread out properly by our local grader operator (hereafter known as Farmer Joe) later this week. There was grass to be clipped, wood to be moved and ants to be cajoled out of wood piles. They were not particilarly cajolable, and many bit my ankles in protest, unfortunately.

But as we were going around the perimeter of the yard we noticed that the wild raspberries were ripening nicely, and we each had a handful or two as the day wore on. They were delicious! There's nothing like eating a sun-ripened, still warm raspberry.

Later, when I was quite worn out and taking a breather on the porch, I saw a hummingbird! I haven't seen a hummingbird here for two years, and that one I scared away. This hummingbird was flitting about some red salvia flowers I had planted under the Schubert chokecherry tree. It hovered there for a while, while I sat there gawking at it and trying not to scare it away this time. I think it may have been a Ruby Throated Hummingbird. I will definitely be planting these flowers again next year.

It is so nice when serendipitous things happen like that. I knew there was a reason why I wanted to take a break right then! Despite the heat, the day was a nice balance of working and resting. If we take the time to be still from our busy-ness from time to time, things seem to unfold nicely:

The Tao is constant in non-action
Yet there is nothing it does not do

If the sovereign can hold on to this
All things shall transform themselves
Transformed, yet wishing to achieve
I shall restrain them with the simplicity of the nameless
The simplicity of the nameless
They shall be without desire
Without desire, using stillness
The world shall steady itself

Tao Te Ching, Chapter 37 as translated by Derek Lin

Water

This is my most favorite Tao Te Ching chapter:

The highest goodness resembles water
Water greatly benefits myriad things without contention
It stays in places that people dislike
Therefore it is similar to the Tao

Dwelling with the right location
Feeling with great depth
Giving with great kindness
Speaking with great integrity
Governing with great administration
Handling with great capability
Moving with great timing

Because it does not contend
It is therefore beyond reproach

Chapter 8 - Translation by Derek Lin

Water is an amazing substance. Without it there would be no life on the planet. Water flows right where it's needed, accommodating itself to its surroundings without any fuss. As Derek Lin says in his commentary on this chapter, "water provides its benefits and moves on, without waiting for any benefits in return." It nourishes weeds and flowers alike.

It is not easy to emulate the characteristics of water. Too often we want things and people to accommodate to us instead of making some accommodation ourselves. Too often we try and nudge things along the way we want them to go. And by "we," I mean "me," of course.

I have a small water fountain near the front door of the house that is on a timer, set to come on for a while in the morning and several hours the evening. I can hear it make its nice trickling sound in the morning before work and in the evenings before bed. It is a good reminder for me to focus on the essential, fundamental aspects of life and to try and be less contentious.