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Monday, February 23, 2015

Fear or Love? (A Tiny Home Dilemma)

I don't know if you've already seen this amazing convocation speech that Jim Carrey made at Maharishi University. I know it's been making the rounds on the interwebs.

Here's the clip that's inspiring today's blog post:


I saw this for the first time a few months ago and I'm slowly realizing that this clip sums up the dilemma with which I've been grappling over the past several months.

If you've been reading my blog over the past year or so, you'll know that I bought a Tiny Home in December 2013. I set it up on some friends' land last spring and lived in it through the summer. Then, as winter approached, I realized that winterizing it was going to be a pretty big task. I had gotten depressed and all of the things I needed to do felt like too much work. I could barely put one foot in front of the other, let alone figure out and manifest all the things I needed to make my house work over the winter. The prospect of living in a draughty, small, thin-shelled structure for the winter felt out-of-control, risky and unsafe.

Running scared

So, I decided to abandon my tiny house for the winter. I found a house that I could rent – a place with central heating, electricity and running water. And I set myself the task of deciding what I wanted to do about my living arrangements going forward.

I was full of doubts – I doubted that I could handle the challenges of Tiny, (semi) off-grid Living; I doubted that I was living in the right place. Part of me wanted to bug out, move to Montreal, Ireland, South America – to get away from everything. I batted around a half-a-dozen locations and ideas. Everywhere from West Dublin to Québec City to Galway to Buenos Aires.

I weighed many pros and cons.

Fear had me in its clutches. Every option I considered felt scary, unsatisfactory and just plain wrong.

Embracing love

While some of my fear is perfectly rational, the worst of it was probably a by-product of my depression. When we feel like we are all alone in the darkness, of course we are afraid. Nothing feels possible – to stay, to go, there is no good option.

Finally, I am coming out of my depression and starting to feel more like myself. Love is starting to raise her voice again. I love my friends and my community on the west bank of the LaHave. I love the beaches, the quiet, the sky. I love my house. It is adorable! Every time I go to check on it, it glows its warm heart at me. It hugs me. I feel absolutely at home.

As usual, it's not Either/Or – it's Both

I'm still scared. I'm not a particularly handy person nor, frankly, am I that interested in becoming one. This is a hard challenge to take on as a single person. I need help, and asking for help is not always my forte. And, at the same time, I want to embrace this challenge and see if I can make it work. I want to engage in the experiment of winterizing my home and living in it through an entire year.

I don't know exactly how I'm going to acheive this. I have some ideas. More will come to me. But I don't know if I will succeed. Maybe it will work for me and maybe it will not. Time will reveal the answers, but only if I try. If I don't try, I will never know.

And while fear is still a factor, I know that this decision is being made from a place of love.

PS: Jim Carey's convocation speach is worth watching in its entirety.

Friday, February 13, 2015

The funniest thing, EVER!

A friend sent me a link to a piece of art this week (art created by a friend of that friend) and asked me to vote for it in one of those ubiquitous online contests.

Given the type of person I am, I'm sure I would have voted anyway, but on top of my always-happy-to-help-a-friend-(or-friend-of-a-friend)-attitude, this art genuinely delights me.

What does this piece of art make you think of:

Bruce is frustrated by Vivian's indifference to housework by Danielle Cole
http://www.arthere.ca/bruce-frustrated-vivians-indifference-housework
YOU CAN VOTE FOR IT HERE: http://www.arthere.ca/vote
   

Personally, it reminds me of the biggest laugh I have ever laughed.

I like to laugh. I laugh a lot.

And there is one laugh that tops all others. I laughed myself into helplessness – barely breathing, absolutely overcome by delight.

Why?

Two words.

Dinosaur Porn.

Just typing those words right now has set me off into a fit of giggles echoing the original debilitating fit of laughter that took me over when I first heard about dinosaur porn. (Yes, it's a thing, look here if you need proof.)

How it all happened


I was having an ordinary conversation with my l.a.t.t. (lover at the time) and he mentioned to me that he had seen a link on the Internet about dinosaur porn. I chuckled a little at the idea. Heck, dinosaur porn, whatever, takes all kinds.

I assumed it was dinosaur-on-dinosaur. I mean, who would dinosaurs find sexy, right?

And then, my l.a.t.t. specified that it was dinosaur-on-GIRL.

And I lost it.

Why are impossible real things way funnier to me than (theoretically) possible imaginary things?

I don't know why Dinosaur-on-girl porn is the funniest thing I've ever heard.

I don't usually find porn funny at all. I'm not a big fan of porn as a cultural product. I lost a long-ago lover to porn addiction (among other things) and porn and I have been sworn enemies ever since.

But I find the concept of dinosaur porn hilarious. I find it way funnier than vampire porn or weretiger porn (weretiger porn is also a thing, look here). It has something to do with the implausibility of dinosaurs finding humans attractive. But it has way more to do with the fact that humans and dinosaurs were never both alive at the same time on this planet.

The equation runs something like this:

human + radically mismatched other species + temporal impossibility + sex + commodification = hilarious to my brain

HILARIOUS.

So, go vote for Danielle's art. Help an artist out. Because that's a friendly to do. And because the art is cool. And because it has a great title. And also because my brain thinks dinosaur porn is funny.

One last time, here's the link. Simply click, scroll to the dinosaur with the vacuum cleaner and the co-ed in the sweater – and vote.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Menopause and Euphoria

No one ever told me it would be like this. 

I started experiencing peri-menopausal symptoms in November 2012. I missed a period and had a bunch of hot flashes. I asked my doctor and she said that I should take a pregnancy test and if I wasn't pregnant, I was probably going into menopause.

She was very nonchalant, which was fine by me. I don't want my doctor going all hysterical on me just because I'm entering an inevitable next stage of my life.

Anyway, I wasn't pregnant, so it seemed likely that I was entering into The Change. I was 41, which is a little early, but still considered "within the 'normal' age range".

The Mythology of the DREADED change

I had heard a lot of things about menopause before I arrived here. I think many women do. I have witnessed some other women's experiences with Hormone Replacement Therapy and menopause-related emotional meltdowns. I have seen menopause be a mostly empowering experience for some women and a mostly disempowering experience for others.

Certainly, there are generational factors at play. Many women have pioneered greater openness and empowerment for women coming after them. I remember having tea with my grandmother and a dear friend of hers about twenty years ago. My grandmother's friend fanned herself enthusiastically during a hot flash and said to me, "I'm doing this, Alex, so that when you get here, you can fan yourself without feeling embarrassed." I do, and I always think of her.

The Reality

There have been some harsh things about menopause for me. My periods, which were pretty easy when I was a young woman, have been getting progressively worse since I hit 35 or so. At this point, they are way too many days of agony and ibuprophen. And my PMS is bad. Some days I feel so cranky and crazy that I prefer not to be in contact with other human beings. When I am, I try to stay conscious and not get too mean. But it's not always easy.

The Secret Awesomeness

The first time it happened, I was taken by surprise.

I experienced a couple of days of absolute euphoria.

I mean, high-as-a-kite, grinning-like-a-hyena euphoria.

Everything felt awesome, delightful, blissful.

Being someone who hasn't experimented with drug use or long-distance running, I couldn't remember ever having felt like that before. But it's what I can imagine a really good high might feel like and it gives me some insight into why people might chase that experience.

When it first happened, I didn't know what was going on. I mean, I often feel happy, but not like that. I began to wonder if it might be a menopause thing.

I googled and found this blog post from Barbara Younger, along with some other accounts of menopausal euphoria. I also read the Wikipedia article about euphoria, and saw how heavily pathologized it is in Western medicine.

Personally, I look at it as a gift. It's been happening to me a couple of times a year for a couple of days at a time. While euphoric spells are not a good time to make major life decisions, they are an excellent time to let go and be. Enjoy the ride, some hormonal compensation for all of the crankiness and misery.

Euphoria and depression

I've been struggling with depression for quite a few months now and last week, just in the middle of wondering if I was ever going to stop feeling depressed, I hit a bout of euphoria. Suddenly, I felt wonderful. Nothing had changed in my external world, but my brain chemistry had suddenly shifted and everything felt different.

It had the effect of hitting the reset button, reminding me that so much of our experience is due to our brain state. I followed that euphoric spell with two days of listening to inspirational TED Talks, like this one. I could feel my neurons firing as I learned and digested new information about the world. I've begun to feel better. I'm smiling more often and feeling better about myself.

Knowing the relapsing-remitting nature of the depression I've experienced so far, I'm probably not out of the woods yet. However, I am feeling more connected to the present moment and more skeptical about my brain states. There is difficult and there is easy and there is everything in between. And really, nothing is very different from anything else, but for the meaning we grant it in the present moment.

Thanks, Menopause. I needed that.

Editor's note: technically, in many places where I wrote "menopause" above, I should have written "peri-menopause", but that just sounds too pedantic. I'm sure you knew what I meant.

Friday, January 23, 2015

Depression Part 4: Waking Up Tired

A couple of months ago, I thought I was through with being depressed. I was taking good care of myself and feeling brighter.

Sadly, it is not that easy. The holidays are usually an unpleasant time for me, so I was not too surprised that I got a little down in December. But things usually improve for me after Janaury 1st. Not this year though. This January has been atypically rough.

I'm still taking good care of myself. I've been doing a food experiment (which I'll probably write about when it's complete) which has meant no wheat, corn, soy, dairy or alcohol and limited sugar. This means that I have been eating lots of healthy, unprocessed food. And I've been doing yoga almost daily and loving it.

Weepy and Sleepy


And, I'm still depressed. Weepy and sleepy, I would describe myself. I long to go to bed each day. I've been packing in the day by 8pm, sleeping for 10 hours and not wanting to get out of bed when I do wake up. Even though I'm getting more sleep that I usually get, ever, I've been waking up tired.  Some mornings, I would even say exhausted. And my mood is low. Very low. Extremely low. A mix of hopelessness, disappointment and diffuse rage.

That is absolutely not like me. I'm a morning person. To the extreme. I usually travel from zero to sixty in zero seconds flat. I wake up in fifth gear, raring to go. Bright and cheerful, a regular Little Merry Sunshine.

Disconnection


The funny thing is that my rational mind is mostly okay. I know that things are just fine in my life. I have food, shelter, loving friends and family, enjoyable work, interesting artistic projects.

Before now, I've heard and read many accounts of the disconnect between one's rational thoughts and one's mood that can happen during a major depression, but this is really the first time I have experienced it.

I see the difficulty that I might be facing in getting out of this place. If my rational mind is disconnected from my emotional state, how do I reason and talk myself out of here?

What now?


I have some hope that my upcoming busy work season will help lift me out of this state. That the endorphins inspired by pleasurable work will jumpstart my system. And I have some other things I'm planning to try – focused around managing my peri-menopausal hormonal fluctuations, which I'm sure are contributing to my depressive symptoms.

The things I'm doing and planning to do might help and they might not. 

I've set a deadline for myself. If the things I'm trying haven't made a significant difference by April 30, I step the interventions up a notch.

Wish me luck, please. 

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Sexism #2: Normalization and Demonization

I notice something that often happens when we deal with experiences and reports of sexism and sexual violence. I see it unfolding in the media, among my friends, and in my own heart and mind.

Normalization

It happened with the reports of Jiam Ghomeshi's behaviour. When that story first broke, it began with Jian himself posting a long Facebook message talking about how accusations were being levelled at him by a jilted ex-lover as a means of revenge.

I know that a number of people who saw that post felt initially sympathetic to Jian. I have to admit that when I first read it, I did not immediately disbelieve it. In my mind's eye, I imagined the long string of "jilted" women Jian had probably used like kleenex and chucked away. This seemed not unexpected to me. It seemed normal. Men, and especially famous/prominent men, seem to have a lot of leeway to behave like Sexist Jerks if they choose to (yes, I think I'll use the word "Jerk", especially in light of this charming definition of the word on the Urban Dictionary, a definition which was clearly written by a Sexist Jerk). Being a Sexist Jerk is not against the law. Nor can a person be fired for being a Sexist Jerk, as long as they don't do it in the workplace in a way that harasses a co-worker (something we have since learned that Jian is alleged to have done).

In my initial response, I can see how my own ingrained sexism tried to normalize Jian's claims about his situation. Sure, some red flags went up, I was wary of his story, but it was definitely interesting to see how much of my mind was willing to even try to normalize his behaviour and his claims about his experience. I think he was counting on that and I'm glad his media relations plan failed.

I've had an equally mixed response to recent events at the Dalhousie Dental School. This strikes close to home, because I've been a patient at the Dalhouse Dental School Clinic for the past couple of years. As a patient there, I've been given the best, most thorough dental care I've ever received (at a fraction of the usual cost). I've also learned many fascinating things about my teeth, gums and salivary glands. My first year, I was treated by a male dental student; this year, the student treating me is female. I feel that have been treated respectfully by both of my primary students and by many of the faculty, staff, students, dental assistants and hygenists I've encountered in various contexts at Dal Dental. I was shocked and appalled by the hateful, sexist comments that some of the students there posted, directed at fellow students.

That said, I've had an opportunity to witness first hand that a culture of sexism does exist in the Dal Dental Clinic. More than one of the male faculty members (who come to check the work of students at each visit) have made sexist comments to me. These comments have been on the mild end of the sexism spectrum – along the lines of "what a pretty smile". I found these comments patronising, sexist and unnecessary (sexist because they were not things that I thought those professors would say to a male patient and unnecessary because they were not things that they needed to say to accomplish the task at hand, while patronising was just in their tone), but I normalized it. I considered the age of the speakers, who were all clearly over 60, internally sighed and let it go. It was sexist, but I didn't feel menaced by it. Annoyed, yes, but it's the sort of thing that happens all the time. I.e. normal. I did not complain.

And then I found out that a professor in the dental faculty showed a video of bikini-clad women to one of his classes to "wake up" the male students. Which demonstrates to me that the sexism I had experienced in its mildest forms in the Clinic goes well beyond comments that slightly annoy me – to lengths that I believe have seriously damaged the learning environment at the school and have helped set a very bad example indeed.

Demonization

At the same time that normalization often happens, so does demonization. 

Jian Ghomeshi went from being perceived as a misunderstood kinkster and victim of a mean-spirited-lady-conspiracy to a horrifying abuser who is now facing criminal charges arising from allegations dating back over a decade.

As for the Dalhousie Dental students who made sexually violent threats toward their classmates, people are protesting, demanding their expulsion and the release of their names.

Don't get me wrong, I think that there should be serious consequences for sexual violence and threats of sexual violence. However, I don't think demonization is a helpful consequence, for a number of reasons:
  1. Demonizing dehumanizes and when we dehumanize, we bring ourselves down to the level of perpetrators of sexism and sexual violence; demonization makes victims of them in the same way they dehumanized others and made them victims – this does not correct the situation, it makes it worse 
  2. Stats show that most perpetrators were victims at some point in their lives; this is not an excuse, but it is context and I think it's something that it's important to remember
  3. Perpetrators are no longer viewed as people who are "like us" which lessens the impetus to look at the ways in which we and the people we know engage in (usually much milder) sexist thought, speech and behaviour
  4. Systemic sexism and more benign forms of sexism use the demonized targets as scapegoats so they can sidle off to carry on with business as usual, i.e. stay in the comfortable rut of entrenched, institutional sexism
The way I see it, sexism exists on a continuum. Demonization takes perpetrators off of that continuum and says: these people are monsters, scumbags, inhuman. And somehow, that makes them not our (society's) problem anymore. Milder forms of sexism remain unaddressed. Systemic sexism remains unchallenged.  

As an example of this in action, you may have noticed that although there have been several complaints reported in the media about institutional sexism among Dal Dental School faculty there has been little comment on that topic from Dalhousie University, compared with their volume of comments about the students' sexist Facebook posts.

I wrote to President Florizone and Dean Boran expressing my concerns about both the students' behaviour and my concerns about faculty (i.e. my sexist experiences as a patient at the Dal Dental Clinic and the reported sexism of faculty in classes and in clinics at the Dal Dental School). I received a letter (from an assistant in the President's office) about how the students were going into the restorative justice process, check out our FAQ, blah, blah, blah. There was no response to my comments regarding my experiences with and concerns about reported complaints about faculty. Figuring that I had been sent a boilerplate response and that no one had actually read my letter, I wrote back re-iterating my unaddressed concerns about faculty and asking what the University plans to do to combat sexism at an institutional level. I sent that second letter 22 days ago. I have not yet received a response.

They had an easy answer to the letter they hoped I would send, but they don't have an answer for my questions about their instutional contribution to the problem and what they are going to do to address it. 

What now?

The fact of the matter is that some people are continuing to learn the belief that women and men are not equal and they are not questioning what they are learning or have learned. Some people still seem to believe that women and men are not even people in the same way, that women and men have different rights and entitlements. Some men feel entitled to do things that violate the safety and well-being of women, simply because they are men and because women are women.

People learn how to behave toward one another. I'd like to be able to say that people who are sexist are simply failing to learn the rules of our society correctly. But sadly, I don't think that's true. Our society is in an ongoing transition around sexism. There are many rules available to learn. On one side of the spectrum: Everyone is equal. Everyone has the same rights. Everyone is entitled to safety, dignity and respect. And on the other end: Some people are not entitled to respect, dignity or safety. It is okay to violate other people's rights (which does not apply only from men to women but also from women to men, between people of differing races, sexual identities, abilities, etc.) – with the caveat that it will be better for you if you don't get caught.

Most of us fall somewhere in the middle of the continuum. I think of myself as a feminist and egalitarian person, but if I'm honest with myself, I hold a number of ingrained sexist beliefs. Having been raised up in this culture, it would be some kind of miracle if I did not. What can I do about it? As I become aware of my sexist beliefs,  I can challenge them and work them through to the best of my ability. That is what I can do. That is what each of us can do. Societal change happens both individually and systemically.

I think – I hope – that our society is reaching a tipping point in our transition toward equality between men and women. As disturbing as much of the recent news is, we are talking about things that used to be swept under the rug and ignored. I hope that the more we talk, the less we will normalize and the less we will demonize. I am hopeful that we are entering an ever-deeper and more authentic engagement with the work of changing the rules of our society toward the end of the spectrum that chooses equality, respect, empathy and compassion.

This series will continue.

Friday, January 9, 2015

Sexism #1: Introduction

It is difficult for me to write about sexism.

There has been so much in the news about sexism, sexual violence and misogyny over the past couple of years – in Nova Scotia, in Canada and around the world.

The stories in the media are stirring up conversations. We're talking about it and this is a good step. 

I've been trying to keep my responses reasoned and measured. I managed it with Jian Ghomeshi, I managed it with the Dal dental students, I've managed it here on my blog, though often at the cost of simply NOT posting about certain events and the feelings and thoughts I have about them.

I woke up this morning to more bad news about sexism (and racism) in Canada, this time an article about a mountie who arrested an aboriginal woman and then, the following morning, had her released into his custody and drove her to his apartment to pursue a relationship with her. As a consequence for this totally inappropriate breach of trust and ethics, he was suspended from duty for 7 whole days.

Something in me snapped this morning and I shared the link on Facebook with a wild, innacurate, knee-jerk rant.

I think that's a sign that I've been holding too much back. I have been taking the easy way out – not writing, not expressing what I'm thinking.

Part of the difficulty is that what I'm thinking is changing and developing all the time. I'm considering many different aspects of sexism both in reported stories and in my own experience. I'm having conversations with people that are making me think and question my own beliefs and behaviour.

I feel very non-objective about sexism and misogyny. It's part of the fabric of my life and always has been. I am deeply uncomfortable with it. I am at various times a victim, a perpetrator, a by-stander. And in the sense that there is one big hierarchical system encompassing sexism, racism, classism, agism, heterosexism, etc, and that I am a white, university-educated, cis-gendered, middle-class person, I both benefit from and am oppressed by the same system. Frankly, for me, the benefits outweigh the oppression. And that makes it all the more difficult to confront, to write about, to stand up, to own up and to try to do it all without getting defensive or self-righteous or just plain stupid.

And I'm going to try. Stay tuned.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

You are here (Happy New Year)


I'm a fan of fresh starts. And while I believe that it is possible to make a fresh start at any time, the beginning of the calendar year always feels to me like a special opportunity.

I have been feeling stuck for a long time, wishing I could change things that are beyond my control —wishing to change the past, wishing to change other people.

I have been unable to let go and accept. I have tried many times only to fall back and admit that I was still hooked, still angry, still disappointed, still hurt, still wishing I could change the outcome of past events.

Let this new year be a truly new year for me. Let me embrace what is and release what is not.

There is only the present moment. The only person I have a hope of changing is myself (and that's difficult enough).

Here I am in the present moment. I have a job to do — to be myself on my own path. I need to forgive myself for getting lost, for betraying my own authenticity and autonomy. I choose to recommit to myself in each present moment. 

Here is a moment. And here is another. And I am here. In these moments. Free to be myself (honour authenticity). Free to make my own choices (honour autonomy).

This feels like a challenge. And I believe that it is possible.

That makes me very, very lucky.

And for that, I am very, very grateful.