Flood of compassion

Over the last week, my city of Calgary, Alberta, has seen unprecedented flooding. About 75,000 people had to evacuate. The downtown core became a ghost town. Major transit routes stopped running. Bridges and train tracks were closed down or even washed out. Some of my friends are still without electricity after seven days. Some people may not be able to return home for weeks, as structures became unsound or unfit for habitation. Cars left in secure underground parking were submerged and written off. So many people lost so much.

I was lucky. Although I live only four blocks from the river, my building is not on the flood plain, and my apartment is on the 26th floor. I had power the whole time. I was inconvenienced with road closures, but not hurt. Although a handful of people died in the flood, it could have been a lot worse. So many of us are lucky in so many ways.

Not only are we lucky that it wasn’t worse, we are also lucky to live in a place where people help each other. Thousands of volunteers have stepped up to help their neighbours in any way they can – offering shelter, food, clothes and help with the clean-up. Many local businesses are donating equipment and supplies. Pump truck operators are showing up to pump out basements free of charge. City workers are pulling double shifts to clean up garbage, communicate information and patrol evacuated neighbourhoods. And the other day, I got to see an entire hockey rink filled with donated clothing and household goods out at Siksika Nation, a Native reserve. I joined dozens of volunteers from all over to help them sort it out.

In the midst of all this disaster and heroism, there was only one news story that shocked me: Cambodian orphans, some of the poorest of the poor, scraped together $900 out of donations they had received, and sent it to Alberta to help us out with flood relief.

Now, it’s hard to write about this, because I have no words to describe the feelings of humility and gratitude that come up.

My first reaction to the story was resistance. Alberta has billions of dollars, and these kids have almost nothing. It’s just not right that we should accept anything from them. We should be giving them money! I mean, while some Albertans have lost so much, the rest of us still have more than enough. We should be able to take care of our own.

Then I realized: This gift is theirs to give. They have the right to give it to whomever they choose. They chose us.

They also have the right to experience the joy of giving. Doesn’t it feel good to give? Why should we deny them that right? Why not let them experience that joy?

Here in Alberta, we get to learn some beautiful lessons from this:

It’s a beautiful lesson in grace. We don’t deserve to receive anything from them. But we did. Sometimes the Universe just throws something extra your way to remind you of the ridiculous abundance that love creates.

It’s a beautiful lesson in compassion. They saw that Albertans were suffering, and chose to do what they could to alleviate that suffering. They didn’t stop to ask how effective it would be. They didn’t ask if we really needed it. They didn’t stop to consider, that if you give money to Albertans, they’ll just spend it on alcohol anyway. (It’s true. We drink a lot.)

Those Cambodian orphans didn’t give rationally. They gave because they could.

Finally, this is a beautiful lesson in humility. If someone who has nothing can give something, then what can I give, when I have so much?

Posted in compassion, gratitude, service | 1 Comment

Am I a racist?

The other day I arrived at the train platform downtown just as my train arrived, and also just as a pair of slow-moving, poorly dressed and possibly intoxicated male Natives also arrived in time to board the train. When they got on the first car, I got on the second.

Why? The thought that went through my mind was that I’m tired of being approached by homeless and poor people that look exactly like these guys, and have them ask me for money. I’m tired of them trying to make conversation about something they’re pissed off about. I’m tired of sitting politely and trying to decide whether or not to interfere when they bother other passengers.

I wanted to avoid being around people that look like these people, because I had a bunch of prejudiced ideas about how they might act based on their appearance. In short, I’m probably, on some level, a racist.

I don’t like racists. I think racism is stupid. I get very angry when I read news stories about cops picking on people just because they’re not white. I’m angry that Native Canadians have been abused by the government and the church for hundreds of years, and I feel bad that they suffer with so much poverty and illness.

But when faced with a real, live Native, I let my discomfort take over. If I had more courage, I would be compassionate. I would see that the poverty and alcoholism that so many of them suffer from was handed down to them by the systemic problems they were born into – a system that favours me because I’m white and male.

I can talk about these things in theory. A lot of people can. The question is, do I let fear motivate me when I see someone that has the same appearance as someone else that once made me uncomfortable?

And how can I change?

I don’t have the answer. And I realize that putting something like this on the internet is practically begging for the trolls to attack me, because it’s easy to troll, and hard to fix the systemic problems.

But I also need to take an honest look at this, and I invite thoughtful comments.

Posted in accountability, compassion, politics | 2 Comments

A Safe Kind of Life

Once upon a time there was a girl named Rachel. She lived a simple life as the daughter of a bus driver and a secretary in a middle-class neighborhood. She had friends. She was relatively content.

One day, her fairy godmother showed up in a shower of sparks and gave her a great quest. “You are destined for great things, young Rachel,” said the fairy godmother.

“Wow, that’s really cool,” Rachel replied. “But it looks terribly hard. I don’t think I’m good enough to do it.”

“Oh, but I can help you!” said the fairy godmother.

“Um, no thanks,” Rachel said. And she went back to her math homework.

“Well, I can’t force you then,” said the fairy godmother, and disappeared.

Rachel went on to live an average, safe life in a middle-class neighborhood. She had a family. She was relatively content. She never lost the nagging feeling that she was supposed to do more with her life. She felt kind of bad for not doing it, and always wondered how her life might have been different if she had accepted the quest.

She died in a nursing home at the age of 93, in a puddle of her own urine, surrounded by other catatonic old people who couldn’t remember her name. It was kind of sad.

Posted in growth, story | 4 Comments

Sometimes giving up is the only hope

I’ve been feeling rather resentful lately, struggling with a bunch of petty crap. Really, my life isn’t so bad. I live in a great city, with good friends and a job that pays well. The only suffering I experience is what goes on in my head.

But anyway: I suffer. Depression has caught up with me again. I don’t feel like I’m contributing anything to society. I’m not living my passion (as my Facebook friends continually exhort me to do by posting inspiring picture-quotes). I feel like my job is slow and tedious. People are getting on my nerves. I just want to hide away. Last night I had a dream that a sketchy-looking guy on a waterfront pier told me he could help me disappear and start a new life. I almost took him up on it.

Today was World Suicide Prevention Day. At the local library, a panel of five people from five religions gathered to talk about forgiveness and its effect on wellness, in the context of mental health and suicide prevention. I’m glad I went.

A question came up that got me thinking: How does forgiveness help us find hope for a better future (and thus prevent suicide)?

That’s when I heard Jack Nicholson in my head: “What if this is as good as it gets?”

What if there is no hope for a better future? What if the circumstances of my life won’t get any better? What if I will always have problems? What if life never stops being annoying?

What if the only way to end my suffering is either to end my life, or to forgive my life for being what it is?

To forgive everyone in my life for being imperfect. To forgive myself for making mistakes. To forgive traffic lights and annoying co-workers and inconvenient weather.

What if I can forgive and accept my life and everyone and everything in it, exactly as it is, exactly as we all are? I don’t think that would be “hope” in the traditional sense. Hope demands that circumstances change. Forgiveness does not.

So, if I could completely forgive everyone and everything, could I find relief from the suffering of resistance to life? Could I even find bliss?

Something in me knows this is the only way out: to find peace and joy in forgiveness and acceptance.

Something else in me knows I’ll forget this truth the next time I get stuck at some idiot traffic light.

But I can make an attempt today.

And maybe another one… the day after tomorrow.

(And forgive myself for the suffering I cause myself in between.)

Posted in compassion, gratitude, healing | 10 Comments

The Heart is NOT GUILTY

“The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” – the Bible (Jeremiah 17:9)

I was taught this from a young age. I was taught to suspect my own heart of all kinds of evil. I learned not to trust it. I learned to shut down my emotions with logic (and depression). I learned to get into my head and out of my body, because the body was the source of sin.

And now, here I am, beginning to heal from that.

My heart is NOT the source of wickedness. It is the source of Love. It tells me when I’m connected to Spirit, helps steer me in the direction of love, and speaks truths that my little brain can barely fathom.

Accusations to the contrary are lies designed to keep us away from love, away from truth, and separate from God. Don’t believe them.

We are all innocent. We need to reclaim that innocence now.

Posted in God, healing, religion | 1 Comment