Yesterday I felt the need for some Bob Marley. The Marley tune I wanted, was sadly not on my iPod (Lively Up Yourself) so I went straight to the heart of things: Redemption Song. More than being the quintessential Marley song, it was an opportunity to play Joe Strummer’s version of the song right after.

 

I love Joe’s version of Redemption Song. Not too many people can pull off that song. Listening to Joe, you hear a respectful depth of spirit and a gravelly voice made of decades of tequila, late nights and singing his heart out.

 

I love Joe Strummer, and have loved him for ages. Joe stood for good things, like sharing, friendship, freedom, socialist values. Joe stood against important things like racism, unfair wages and destruction of the environment. Joe Strummer was an inclusive person and the best sort of rock star, approachable. Joe spent hours after shows making sure every fan who wanted an autograph or hug from him got one. He was a consummate front man for the Clash, wrote loads of music for movies in his “wilderness years” without much recognition, he created the concept of bands producing carbon neutral albums. When Joe put together The Mescaleros he worked hard and brought the band into the forefront with his unique persistence, doing shows, knocking on radio station doors, etc. So many times, Joe put his ego in his back pocket and just worked hard. Joe’s persistence, his inclusive, generous nature, and his willingness to stand for what was right, are the things that inspired my admiration for him.

 

The interesting thing is that when I was a punk, and Clash fan, punk was angry. I was angry. I was angry a lot and for a long time, at nearly everything. Punk suited the anger I carried through my teens and into, well, it’s still there. So as I was listening to Joe singing Redemption Song, I asked myself, how can you admire all these marvelous traits of Joe Strummer’s, for three decades and still be an angry SOB who is judgmental and intolerant? How can I be inspired by Joe’s absolute fortitude and persistence when I have abandoned nearly all of the projects, interests and causes I’ve been inspired to do when the going got tough or progress was slow? Seriously, I've missed the boat so many times by not following up on my ideas that I should have a life preserver tatooed on my butt.... (but that wouldn't be helpful)

 

Can I be as cool as Joe and not judge people? Can I be as tenacious as Joe and stick to my ideas? I’d liked to think so but it’s going to take conscious effort and time. I’m going to try. Joe set the standard for me for persistence and being a good person and I’d like to think my “redemption” is possible.

 

Who inspires you? And are you living up to that inspiration?

September 8th, Michael Franti's 9th Annual Power to the Peaceful music fest happens in Golden Gate Park. For 5 years now I've wanted to go. This year, I'm going to put some effort into it. I need a ride from Vancouver or Seattle to San Francisco, arriving for the morning yoga and sailing all the way through the beautiful vibe until Sunday return. Anyone driving to San Fran? I can drive, share gas costs, dj, navigate and I'm good company!!!! If you need any convincing to go to this brilliant day, check out: http://powertothepeaceful.org/ Love, J

Becoming a Mother. There was an immediate transition when nothing would be the same again because there was this little person depending on me. I still had moments of being a "child" but essentially, becoming a parent can help you grow up pretty fast. She has been the central joy in my life and my reason to continue living in some dark times. Here we are 18 years later and I still get to share the world with her. It's the best magic I know. <3

Ahh the universe, always ready with a demonstration. This morning, on the busride to work, I atypically ended up in a window seat near the front. Everyday, I get on the same bus with the same driver who turns the other way instead of looking at rider’s passes or returning greetings. This driver tends to take off with a jolt which means I tend to be flung precariously into a seat as I do my best to get to the back of the bus. Today, instead of being flung, I decided to take a seat fast – next to a young indy looking kid, with slumped posture (of course). The kid got off and I moved over to the window. Listening to Marconi Union , my calmative for the day ahead, I decided to write instead of read. [My blog writing has suffered of late]. After writing one topic, I looked out the window. On the window was a My Name Is sticker. It had been artfully completed with a graffiti style writing: “My Name Is ‘SNUF?” (as in, “is this enough?”) reading it, considering the “artful” little bit of social commentary vandalism, I wrote the following:

It doesn’t take much to flip someone’s day. With the world in the state it is in, it behooves all of us to hold each other, and every experience, up. Yet how do we tread the line between holding the energy up for each other and not becoming a glib pollyanna? It doesn’t take a lot to pull me into the punk [dark] side. Stupidity and ignorance tick me off. So, if this was one of those moments, or if I didn’t have my Marconi Union calmative in the head phones, this little sticker and the kid’s Eeyore energy could have dragged me down a little.

It didn’t. Arriving at work, I got the voice mail flowing, logged in and opened my email. And then I saw that for the third time, a necessary question was not answered. This time it was with a glib little response that would, again, not allow me to serve a client who’d been waiting a week for an answer. With a slightly tightening jaw, I phoned this guy to ask for the information I needed and got voice mail, again, so left the message that his quippy little response did not give me what I needed to serve my client and I asked again for him to clarify what I needed. He called back, and in a heightened voice told me the answer and after a sarcastic “have a nice day”, he hung up. I went on with my work. Not too long afterward, this fellow sent a flaming email to my Director and entire cadre in the office with an embellished tirade of my aggressive behaviour and his ultimate service to me and, of course his utter innocence and long suffering. If it wasn’t so pathetic, it would have been laughable. My big boss wrote to find out what the $#*#* was going on, rightly so. After reading my response, my boss wrote back with his complete support for me, of course. The point is. On the way to work, I pondered how the smallest thing can flip someone’s switch and there it was, just waiting for me. Funny thing with the Universe, it consistently gives demonstrations. Did I ruin that guy’s day with my “aggressive” behaviour? No. Holding the space for him to do the right thing, through three requests, was pretty patient and I gather others have to do the same for him. Could I have done things differently? Of course. Will I apologise to this guy? Of course. And the moral of this story is? Be careful what you wish for. And the lesson is? People are fragile, hold them up at every opportunity.

As with Tom, it's time to stand back and gaze at my daughter as she is about to graduate highschool. Next Wednesday is the ceremony. I'm excited and she's worried. It's funny, I don't remember being worried about stepping out into the world as she is right now. She's had a very different upbringing than I did. She is a powerful being and was quite clear, from an early age, that she wanted a "sheltered" existence. Mine was in the public eye and reasonably self-sufficient at an early age. She's concerned about her long time routine changing, about not seeing her friends everyday, etc. As much as she complained about aspects of school, it was her chosen sole outlet in the world. Now she has to get a job of some kind and I haven't made that sound all that appealing of late. Gulp. It's an exciting time. She's staying on here with me, which is great because we've been "room mates" for her whole life, most of it just the two of us and I am not sure what living a part would be like for us if it happened to suddenly. She has always been clear about how she wants/needs her life to be and she must know that her independence will evolve naturally. I am sure of that. That evolution will be my first opportunity in years to step out of my solidly held role of mother and see the world through the eyes of Jennifer, not Chloe's Mom. She's a wonderful human being: smart, compassionate, clean and ethical. She's going to be fine. And if I haven't given her all the answers/tools she needs, that's ok. 'Course, I may feel differently after the ceremony on Wednesday. ;-)

I don’t need a Farmer’s Almanac, even with my poor memory, or another insipid “global warming warning”, I know this season is different. Spring has come in, not with her usual carefree flutter but with a reluctance, an efforted struggle, weighed down like a Vancouverite who comes in out of another day of interminable rain. The cherry blossoms are my big clue that things are different: confused by a weird warm spell months ago they prematurely tried to blossom. Then the rains hit again and mid March spotty partially birthed blossoms tried to open their eyes. Normally we’d have a gentle, dry and sunny period from which the pink blossoms would explode in concert. There are several types and the intermingling of their shape, shade and scent is captivating. The cherry trees, so laiden with beauty have to let go, giving us the “pink snow”. A blizzard of pink petals that fill the senses and sidewalks with pink dots of perfection. This didn’t happen in Spring 07, not like it usually does. The wet, fluctuating temperatures retarded normal growth but finally the reduced, tho still splendid, show arrived and instead of a pink blizzard, there was a smattering stuck to our shoes. We usually welcome Spring in Vancouver, but rarely in my 10 years living here have we felt as though we endured “winter”. This one had so many dark days blurring into night, heavy rains and storms that lifted not our hearts but our trees and window boxes into havoc. For most, this unseasonal unsavouriness goes without much thought or conscious connection between our actions and the reactions of the climate. My great, great, great uncle Lord Stanley for whom Stanley Park and the Stanley Cup were named, would not likely have much to say about the significance of the storms that decimated the Park named for him, no… he’d likely have more to say [as do many Vancouverites] about the Canucks being in the play offs “Bully Lads”. Such is the preoccupation of much of this City. We divert ourselves from the thick reality that our drive to urban densification and our single occupancy driving habits are unsustainable. We have built our spreading metropolis on one of the most vulnerable and tender parts of this body called British Columbia. From a seaplane vantage point recently, it was painfully obvious to me that we’ve thrust too many of our metal and concrete supports into the fertile, squishy delta of the Fraser River. While our urban densification is one large and ridiculous aspect of our existence, our urban sprawl is perhaps worse. People are building homes on river banks and flood plains all the way up the Fraser Valley past Mission. What was our agricultural presence is becoming condos and housing developments. The people who live there are demanding services and commuter routes – “..more roads” they say. Never mind. It’s kind of pleasant to have the cherry, dog wood, rhododendrons, lilacs, mock orange and magnolia trees out at the same time. Those of us with allergies don’t mind the compound hit. For us, there are lively 20 somethings hired to hand out free samples of powerful antihistamine products on most of our downtown corners. We’ll be fine

Last night as the spectacle of American Idol, Exxon, Ford, Coca Cola, Madonna, etc were encouraging Americans to give...the fandangle, over the top went even further: Celine Dion singing with Elvis Presley. My daughter and I looked at each other in disbelief, she remarked that "....this must surely be what hell is like." Interesting culture. See it for yourself. Unfortunately, my blog is not supported by icons, so you'll have to click on this link and go to UTube! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sk8BEASOXEw

No doubt that my atmoized existence at work for 8 hours per day, plus commute time, is taking it's toll. So much to express: from initial thoughts of exclaiming on my blog that I doubt that "meaningful work" actually exists; to wondering if my passionate distaste for the unsustainable urban development going on here in Vancouver is really a reflection of something in me. So maybe I just need to reverse the order of those thoughts and I'll have an answer. :-) Doing something for a living that has no intrinsic value, other than paying the rent, is not sustainable, for me. Just as the densification of Vancouver's urban core is being done in an unsustainable way, especially without outlets for the psyche. Not only are the buildings un-green and traditional in their construction and materials, but there is little green space near them for an outlet and there are no balconies on the high towers, only glass cages, stacked high. Treating people in this way, as if we can live in glass cages and without community and green space, is unsustainable on psychological level. We are communal creatures. We allow this pressure cooker of atomization of our people to continue as though we don't know that there is a problem. North America is a case for study: the rising cost of living and the growing gap between have and have not, the lack of human contact and compassion, all these things are in large degree the foundation why someone plans to shoot up everyone on site as we saw at Virginia Tech on Tuesday. This afternoon, out of the blue, I started thinking about an aquaintance who commited suicide a couple years ago. He went mad. With people all around him he didn't feel listened to, he didn't feel valued or as though he fit anymore. Coincidentally, on the bus on the way home, a "stranger" started talking to me out of the blue about someone she knew who commited suicide a few days ago - because of a bad business deal. She, and the guy who killed himself were Japanese. She talked about how great the pressure is in Japan and how high the suicide rate is. The pressure to succeed in Japan is immense. The pressure to have cash in our society is also immense. While we are driving toward the "celebrity culture" and icons with unattainable lives everywhere [due respect given to the "american dream" and all] we are also seeing jobs moved off shore at a great rate, a decline in wages for even white collar jobs, and eroded education. None of this seems to be addressed in the media, the political realm, etc. We all know it's happening, surely. How is it that we are not making any contingency plans? Whether urban planning or social development, we are paving a difficult path for ourselves. By the way, Vancouver's prized "City of Glass" skyline to which we add another highrise every 18 months or so, is particularly ridiculous: we live smack dab on the San Adreas fault here. When the big one hits, it'll be a hail of glass. Something, lots more, has got to give before we change the way we care for ourselves.

Kurt Vonnegut died tonight, at 84 years of age. I will miss his wit and constructive pessimism that made me laugh and gave my own pessimism a smart place to go. What a fabulous writer. He and Theodor Seuss Geisel [Dr. Seuss] were two peas in a cultural pod for me and my favourite American citizens. Fave Vonnegut? I couldn't choose one. Top three perhaps: Slaughterhouse Five, Galapagos and Breakfast of Champions. Damn. Damn. Damn. Goodbye Blue Wednesday.

There were no recorded earthquakes on our dear planet today! This is a rare occurence. I watch a website each day and have become attached to knowing where, when, and why the Great Mother is cracking. The site I watch is http://www.iris.edu/seismon/ Anyway, back to the quakes. From my humble and unscientific observation, we have a number of earthquakes most days, likely 357 days a year. And I wonder, do the quakes happen because we've taken so much out from under the crust? Do the quakes happen, as they so plentifully do, in the Kuril Islands because the the Russians are drilling for oil/natural gas off their north eastern coast? There are no answers. No proof. Just the madness of watching.