Waiting For The Perfect Time For Love

As I sit here on Queen Street in downtown Kitchener, a question comes to mind that has been posed by some of the greatest, most respected minds in history. Aristotle, Emerson, Jung, the Buddha, Ghandi to name a few. The question: How much of your shit do you have to have together before you allow yourself to love and be loved?

Do we mistakenly think that we have to be on an endless search for absolute wholeness before we experience what it's like to be in a loving relationship with someone? Just how hard are we on ourselves? Think about it for a minute. When you see a good friend who is struggling through something or possesses a trait that they are frustrated with, how do you respond? "GET AWAY FROM ME! Come back when you're all better!" No. We are more than often gentle and kind and loving, and we see who they really are besides what they are struggling with.

We are often WAY too hard on ourselves, expecting perfection and casting ourselves into isolation in order to "figure things out" before we dare try to love or, even more, be loved.

Bringing too much unnamed shit into a relationship is often not the greatest thing to do, and expecting another person to fix you can also be a relationship-breaker. But must we go through it alone?

There is something about the touch of another person's skin, or running your hands through their hair, or listening to their heart beat that can be more healing than 10 self-help books or 4 doses of Xanax.

Maybe we don't have to be islands, maybe we just need to be real, be honest, and say, "Hey, I don't have it all together, but I'd like to try loving you and being loved by you."

Don't be so hard on yourself.

About Women Of A Certain Age

Throughout high school, during college, and to this day, I've found that many of my friends have been women. There are many astounding women in my life, some that I'm related to, others not.

In particular I have several women friends who are in their 40's, 50's, or 60's. And when I watch them and witness what is going on in their lives, I am amazed at their frequent courage, grace, and strength. They are an inspiration to me.

I'm the last person to call himself an expert on all things female, but I think back to what a good friend told me on several occasions: "It gets harder for a woman as she gets older." And she was in her early 30's. Is this because of a certain cultural standard which we see in magazines and movies as to what a woman should look like? Is this because of a sometimes-obsession that we see to keep looking like you're 25 when you're nearing 40? Maybe, maybe not; again, I'm no expert. But any thought that a woman becomes less beautiful or less important as she ages is a complete fabrication, a total lie.

I have seen much strength and am amazed by women who aren't 19 anymore. Many of them go through drastic transitions, seemingly turning their whole life upside down.

They leave the security of a job they've held for years and start their own business.

They get involved in community projects that impact those around them.

They take that trip that they've been wanting to take for years.

They finally leave a marriage that has been unfulfilling or toxic for years and start out on a life of their own.

They start exploring their spiritual and artistic sides that perhaps lay dormant for years.

Some do a combination of the above, undergoing a complete life change even though it is as scary as hell.

You want to see courage and strength? You don't necessarily have to search out a firefighter or a police officer. Just look to the important women in your life, no matter what their age may be. We can all learn from these inspirations.

Mark Andrew

My Reflections On 9/11: A Choice Between Fear & Love

As the tenth anniversary of the September 11th attacks approached and then came to pass, I found myself avoiding most of the coverage of the occasion. There are only so many times you can watch planes flying into office towers and people jumping from windows before becoming either numb or desensitized to it. This is why I rarely watch an entire newscast at night when I sit down to catch Peter Mansbridge on CBC's The National (sorry Lisa Laflamme). Inevitably the first five stories are about war, famine, disease, murder, or a local car crash. Perhaps the main reason I don't like to watch or read about such news in depth is because I believe the negativity of it all can affect a person. I'm not saying that we should bury our heads in the sand and be uninformed, but do we need to spend hour upon hour delving into every angle of a tragedy?

The minister of my spiritual centre, Unity Kitchener, is an American and gave a meaningful reflection on the anniversary before ending on a note of optimism.

How has the world changed since September 11, 2001? I can't speak for the entire world, but from my observations, 9/11 brought about much fear and anger. Now, perhaps some of the anger has subsided in these 10 years, but I think there is still a lot of fear. Even more striking is how our hearts or consciousness have, in a way, closed in on themselves.

People became suspicious whenever they boarded a plane.

People crossed the street to avoid the woman wearing a burqa.

People objected to mosques being built in certain locations.

A "pastor" in Florida threatened to burn the Qu'ran.

To their credit, in the direct aftermath of the tragedies in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania, Republican and Democratic politicians set aside their partisanship briefly and stood on the steps of the Capitol building, breaking out in a rendition of "God Bless America." Americans as a whole came together in solidarity. In an important move, President George W. Bush visited a mosque and emphasized that America's retaliation would not be against Islam, but those who attacked his country.
(His subsequent actions cost thousands of innocent lives, but that's for another blog entry.)

Since America's darkest day, we have seen attacks in England, Bali, Madrid, Mumbai. Some of these have been related to Al Qaeda, some not.

I have two thoughts:

1) After facing a tragedy on either a national or even personal scale, we have a choice. Yes, we will initially feel pain, perhaps deep pain and shock. But there comes a time when we have to choose whether we will live the rest of our lives in fear, anger, and resentment against those who have wronged us, or whether we will walk into something else. That something is forgiveness. Some victims of horrific crimes say that they will never forgive their perpetrators and that they deserve to "burn in Hell." An eye for an eye, they say. But what does such thinking accomplish? Unforgiveness and bitterness does not serve to hurt those who have wronged us; instead they serve to make our own lives miserable. We carry it around like a boulder on our backs, sometimes for years. Still others say that they forgive the person(s) that have wronged them, but they will have nothing to do with them ever again. Now, this may absolutely be the necessary thing to do if there is legitimate risk that the person may again cause harm. But how many times do we completely cut off friends or family members instead of reaching out to them? My point is that forgiveness may not only be a set of words that we spout off: "I forgive them." Forgiveness may be an action. Instead of holding bitterness or remaining fearful, we can make a choice that is sometimes very very hard: we can love those who we feel have wronged us. This not only has an effect on the other person, but it sets a part of our soul free.

2) Why do these awful attacks keep happening? Clearly it is not enough to be reactionary - "We're gonna go and get the bad guys now!" Conflicts between people of varying religious beliefs, cultures, and geographical locations will continue to mar our earth until enough of us start reaching out to people who do not look like us, believe like us, or have the same customs as us. It is our ongoing false belief in our separation from others that causes us to be able to say "my way of life or my beliefs are better," and "there's something wrong with those other people." However, if we see all citizens of our planet - black, white, Jews, Christians, Muslims, atheists, gay, straight, as essentially a united family, things start to change. Differences can become enriching and fascinating rather than a reason to set apart and reject. Again, this attitude, this love must be active. It's one thing to say "I accept people of all backgrounds and faiths." It's quite another to make an effort to make friends with the new immigrant family that just moved into your apartment building. I will be the first admit that I have a long way to go with this.

In conclusion, when we are hurt, as a nation or individually, we always have a choice. Will we withdraw in fear and hatred? Or will we actively choose to forgive those who have harmed us? And what can we do to foster peace in our families, in our communities, in our world? Let us start to find active, tangible ways to love our neighbours - whatever they look like or believe - and in doing so we will start to see positive change and an increase in peace and love which we all crave.

Mark Andrew Alward

We'll Change The World: Remembering Jack Layton: 1950-2011

Sometimes the thrill of victory can turn into the agony of defeat in a remarkably short period of time. In the case of Jack Layton, the thrill of victory turned into the agony of grief in only a handful of months.

For my American or International friends who are reading this, Jack Layton, 61, was a city councillor for 20 years in the city of Toronto, and then he made the switch to federal politics in Canada, becoming leader of the leftist New Democratic Party in 2003. Each successive election that Layton fought, he increased the number of NDP seats in parliament. But what happened in this year's general election shocked almost everyone. Layton led the party to an unprecedented 103 seats, making the NDP the Official Opposition party for the first time in Canadian history. His greatest success came in the francophone province of Quebec, where a whopping 59 MP's were elected (an increase of 58).

From what I've read, as a city councillor Jack Layton could be a pain in the ass. He seemed to be involved in everything and making a stink about many different issues. But people listened; he made them listen. Jack stood up for AIDS sufferers in the early days of the disease, he stood up for environmental issues, for gay rights, and for homelessness. Former mayor Mel Lastman said that he wanted to simply throw homeless people in jail, but Jack changed his mind and pushed for affordable housing.

Jack came from a long line of politicians. His father was a cabinet minister in Conservative Prime Minister Brian Mulroney's administration, and his great, great uncle was a father of Canadian confederation. However, this does not mean that everything Jack touched politically turned to gold. He ran for mayor of Toronto twice, and lost. He ran to be an NDP member of Parliament twice, and lost. But in 2003, something changed and with the support of influential former NDP leader Ed Broadbent, Layton became the new leader of the New Democratic Party.

As previously stated, Layton consistently made gains for his party in each election. Then in 2010 he announced that he had prostate cancer and vowed to beat it just as his father had. His battle seemed to be going well, and then he cracked his hip and had to have surgery to repair it. Shortly after a federal election was called, and Layton faced having to travel from coast to coast, setting out on a grueling election campaign.

And it seemed nothing could keep Jack down. At the beginning of the 2011 campaign there were many questions as to if Jack could withstand the rigours that awaited him, but he showed them. There was Jack, flying from stop to stop to stop, first using a brace to help him walk, which was eventually replaced by a cane. This cane became a symbol of strength and defiance as he began to shake it in the air in front of enthusiastic crowds.
As the election campaign went on, Jack seemed to be getting stronger and stronger. He performed excellently in the televised debates (for instance, questioning Liberal leader Michael Ignatieff's attendance record in Parliament by saying, “Where I come from, if you don't show up for work you don't get a promotion!”)

And then there was Quebec. As the separatist Bloc Quebecois party seemed to disintegrate in that province, and with voters not wanting to flock to either the Conservatives or the Liberals, Quebecers began to take a look at the NDP. Or more accurately, they started to fall in love with Jack. For years Layton had been trying to make inroads in Quebec, and when the time came in the election campaign, he visited the province frequently and endeared himself with his folksy French, and by pouring draft beer at a bar during a Montreal Canadiens playoff game while sporting one of their jerseys. The result was astounding, and the Quebec surge was the main contributor to Jack becoming the leader of the Official Opposition.

But mere weeks later, it became clear that something was wrong. Jack and his wife Olivia Chow (also a member of parliament) always attended the Toronto Pride Parade, and enthusiastically walked the route, shaking hands and conversing with the crowd. However, this year, they remained seated, being pulled in a rickshaw. Then in June at a garden party Layton hosted for the press, it was clear that he wasn't in good health, as he remained seated for almost the entire time.

The country was stunned at the end of July (the 25th) when Jack called a news conference. No one knew what it was about, though there had been rumblings. But Canadians were not prepared for this. Jack appeared, along with party president Brian Topp and his wife Olivia, and he was gaunt and his voice was raspy. He announced that he had been diagnosed with a second form of cancer and would temporarily step down as NDP leader to take care of his health. He vowed to return to parliament when it resumed mid-September. But it was clear to anyone who watched that news conference that Jack was in for the fight of his life. However, if anyone could beat cancer, it was Jack, who had always been known as a fighter.

But it was not to be. On August 22nd, less than a month after that news conference, Jack Layton passed away at his Toronto home, surrounded by family. Two days before his death, Jack gathered with his wife, chief of staff, and NDP president, and they compiled a farewell letter, speaking to young Canadians, Quebeckers, those fighting cancer, etc. He outlined his vision for the party, and concluded with this paragraph: “My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.”

What followed was an outpouring of national emotion such as I've never seen. Spontaneous vigils sprouted up all over the country, from Vancouver to Montreal to Halifax, to here in my city of Kitchener, where local NDP candidates as well as a Conservative MP shared a few words in tribute to Jack. The most touching tribute occurred in the square in front of Toronto City Hall, where Jack began his political career. Hundreds of people covered the square with messages written in chalk, and they left flowers and hand-written letters. Others left cans of Orange Crush soda, in reference to the NDP colours as well as their historic breakthrough in Quebec.

Prime Minister Stephen Harper was gracious in offering a state funeral to Jack's family. Traditionally, state funerals in Canada are reserved for prime ministers and governor generals, but at the PM's discretion, he or she can offer it to a distinguished Canadian. It was a wise move.

Jack's body lay in state on Parliament Hill for two days, and 14, 000 people filed past his casket to pay their respects. After this, he lay in repose at Toronto City Hall for another day and a half where thousands more payed their respects. On Saturday, August 27th, 2,500 people packed Roy Thomson Hall for Jack's celebration of life. Thousands of people watched the funeral in a nearby park and church, and various locations around the country. The service was part celebration of life and part political rally. There was a lot of music as well as readings from multiple faith traditions. Humanitarian and former NDP politician Stephen Lewis eulogized Layton by emphasizing that his farewell letter was not just about love, hope and optimism, but was a “manifesto for social democracy.” “He talks of social justice, health care, pensions, no one left behind, seniors, children, climate change, equality and again that defining phrase, "a more inclusive and generous Canada." All of that is entirely consistent with Jack's lifelong convictions.” Rev. Brent Hawkes emphasized Jack's wish that others take up the cause of making Canada and the world a better place.

There has been a lot of criticism and skepticism surrounding Jack's last letter as well as the outpouring of grief that we witnessed across the country. Some of this criticism came in the form of newspaper columns published mere hours after Jack's death, which I find to be despicable. Writers have suggested that Layton didn't even write the letter and that people were merely being emotional and jumping on the grief bandwagon. I don't buy either assertion.

Was Jack Layton a saint? No he was not. Was he Prime Minister of Canada? No he was not. Did he cure the common cold? Not that I know of. What Jack Layton represented to people, even those who would never vote for his party, was enthusiasm, optimism, and a commitment to making Canada a better place. Also, so many people are grieving for him because in him they finally saw a politician that they felt they could relate to, someone who looked out for the little guy. Others were supporters of the causes he fought for and promoted, and supporters of the party. One of the reasons I admire Jack is because during his time at Toronto City Council, he stood with AIDS sufferers as well as the homeless. He was also a tireless activist for the environment.

But perhaps the biggest impact Jack Layton had, even on his deathbed, was to inspire Canadians to simply do something to make their country and their world a better place to live in. If everyone would do their part, we can change the world, he said. He was always looking forward with optimism.

It could be a long, long time before Canadian politics sees as engaging of a leader as Jack Layton.

How Long Has It Been Since You Loved Each Other?

Tonight I've spent a few hours relaxing on the futon, reading a biography by Jerry Lewis, and listening to an internet radio station featuring solo piano and guitar music. Sounds relaxing, doesn't it? To a large extent it is.


But then there are the neighbours. I moved into a new building a few weeks ago and almost every night without fail, sometime between 10 and 11 o'clock, it begins.


Yelling.


Rage.


Slamming Doors.


Language that I would never use (and I can be rather fond of profanity myself at times).


It's always the same. A man screams at his girlfriend/wife for at least an hour and then usually storms out. If I didn't have the piano/guitar music playing, I would be able to hear almost all of the conversation.


This is terribly disturbing to listen to, for two reasons. Firstly, it is hard for me to fathom that one human being could treat another like that (by the way, she is pregnant and there's at least one kid already in the picture), and secondly, because I've experienced behaviour similar to this in my life (I am very thankful that relationships have been mended).


Let me go back to my first point, though. It is hard for me to fathom that one person could treat another person in this manner. What leaves me even more dumb-founded is that they're obviously a couple, whether married or not. Now, I am not naive, I know that no relationship is a complete bed of roses. Disagreements happen and arguments are had. But this is a whole other level, and can be called nothing other than abuse. We see conflicts and examples of abuse all the time while skimming globeandmail.com or watching the evening news, and we go on snacking on our Doritos.


Across the hallway the violence is close up and personal.


And perhaps all violence on a grand scale starts with violence on a personal scale, and on and on it grows.


When I witness relationships or marriages like that of my neighbours, I ask the question, "How long has it been since you loved each other?" Or more still "Did you ever love each other?" Also, "What was love to you when you started out?" A nice smile, a few drinks, good sex? None of these things are bad of course, but did they ever develop into a stronger kind of love? One that makes the conscious decision to put the other person's interests primarily over your own. Love that is patient, that is kind, that is not self-seeking, that is not rude, that keeps no record of wrongs. This of course is a wonderful scripture found in the Bible.


Maybe you had that kind of love at the beginning, or at least wished for it. But now something has changed, or one of you has changed. And instead of patience, kindness, tenderness, there are screams, tense silence, and vitriol.


How long has it been since you loved each other?


It's time to get out. If both of you aren't willing to work on things and attempt a real change, then it's time to leave. Not in a week or two weeks when things blow over, but now. (I'm speaking here of relationships that have been a war-zone or unloving for a long time). You deserve much better.


It's a whole other ballgame when there are children involved. Even if it's "just yelling," you are severely injuring parts of them that it might take years and years to recover, both by your words and by the energy that's being given off in your house. I can not state this strongly enough.


Last night the cops paid a visit across the hall. If this keeps up yours truly will be making a couple calls myself.

How long has it been since you loved each other?

Overdosing On God: Time For An Extended Time-Out?

I currently find myself at Starbucks here in Uptown Waterloo, where I have just finished an iced coffee with milk. I am tempted to order something else, such as a java chip frapuccino - oh the chocolatey goodness. Anyone who knows me well should know that I have a huge weakness for chocolate, along with peanut butter. I was recently thinking that if I could, I would consume a chocolatey frapuccino for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But then I realized something; not only would I be 300 pounds within a few weeks, sooner or later I would get tired of chocolatey frapuccinos.

Which leads me to another question. Can we spend too much time talking about God? For me I think the answer is yes. Again, anyone who knows me even slightly realizes that I have a heavy interest in religion and spirituality; they are the main thrust of this blogsite. God, in one form or another, has been a part of my world and the Divine's name has been on my lips since I was a toddler.

And frankly, right now I'm tired of it, even sick of it. You see, I think that for me at least, I can spend so much time thinking about what God is and how life works, that my mind is turned into a pretzel.

Do I need to know exactly how God works?

Do I need to know the "right beliefs," whatever they are.

Do I need to make sure that I am in right standing with God?

Should I spend 10 minutes a day in prayer or 30 minutes?

Where can I get my latest self-help spiritual fix to make me feel better?

I used to have a single word that hung around my closet doorknob in my old apartment which read "Simplify."

Instead of having to know how life works, what if we dumb it down a little - or a lot. Maybe that's when we really learn. Instead of spending hours pontificating the deep questions of theology, how about simply committing to performing small acts of love for those within our life's own little circle of people. What if instead of wondering how we can change the entire world, we instead foster peace in our own homes and relationships.

People may not connect at all with all this talk of God and beliefs, but love, peace, and kindness go a long long way. These are things that not only touch people on a psychological, reasoning level, but on an emotional heart level.

I'd be happy if I didn't hear the word "God" for at least a year. I've had enough of debate and philosophizing and trying to figure out how life works.

But I will try to make more and more time for love, peace, and kindness.

Realization, Not Salvation

The last couple of days I've been thinking about salvation, namely the idea that there is "one way" for humankind to be saved and to be acceptable to God. A passage by the Catholic writer Henri Nouwen arrived in my in-box yesterday, in which he tries to explain the Bible verse "no one comes to the Father but by me" which was supposedly uttered by Jesus. He offers up the idea that Jesus did open the way to God, but that everyone, regardless of if they've ever heard of Jesus or not, can walk through that door. And then today I had a nice chat with a friend and former professor of mine, and we touched on the idea as well. At some point perhaps I will stop writing about Jesus, because frankly after over 20 years of fundamentalism I can get a little tired of all the Jesus-centric talk. But here are a couple thoughts on a Thursday afternoon as I slurp down a Starbucks Java Chip Frappucino.

I think that having a 3 hour (or 20 year) discussion about "how humankind can get to God" is like a fish in the middle of the Atlantic ocean having a lengthy discussion about how to get to the water. I believe that each of us, regardless of our creed, colour, economic situation, or sexual orientation, are all immersed within the vastness of God. One of the verses from the Bible that still resonates for me is "In him we live and move and have our being." Literally...(well maybe not the "he" part, as if God has a penis). We are not separated from God as has often been put forward as truth. We are not bad boys and girls who need to do something or believe the right things in order to be acceptable.

What we need, I believe, is not salvation, but rather realization. We are loved and lovable expressions of God in the world, rather than people so offensive to God that we must be redeemed or washed clean before we dare approach the Father. As I've said before, I think this belief within many groups of Christianity is more a reflection of an innate fear of judgment and an extension of childhood guilt than it is truth. To me God is Spirit within which I live. This Spirit is love, peace, kindness, compassion, etc. When I am not experiencing these things, I may be holding onto thought patterns or beliefs that are "turning off the tap," rather than committing some grievous sin against a vengeful Person In The Sky.

From the day of our birth we are nothing less than acceptable and lovable by God. We are born out of love. It doesn't take us long to start forgetting our divine nature. And then we are taken to church and told that we have to jump through hoops A, B, and C in order to be close to God, and if we have forgotten enough, we buy what they're selling. And this is not to say that all church people are malicious. They just bought into it many years ago as well.

Perhaps it is the world's biggest ongoing lie - not just within Christianity but other religions as well - that human beings are separate from God and must perform special mental or emotional tasks in order to remedy the situation.

I believe that we can realize our unity with God through affirmative prayer, meditation, and immersing ourselves in loving those around us, among other things. A good starting point is to examine ourselves and ask which part of our lives have we left out in the cold, unloved. Perhaps we can't realize our unity with God as long as we continually reject a part of ourselves. Some people ask "Why can't I ever seem to feel close to God?" A good response may be "Do you accept every part of yourself as loved?" And then you realize that God is found in that love.

May you experience love today and realize that you are acceptable.

Blessings,

Mark Andrew