Tag: nature

Re: Predator

This word has triggers galore. Normally I would think of sexual predators, the likes of Epstein and Maxwell. But there are plenty of predatory types out in the world who have yet to have an adjective to specify them. Whoever desires something, or someone, can resort to predation to satisfy their lust. It’s truly a jungle out there. Shields up!

My education surrounding the beasts of the world has thankfully not been because of being preyed upon. I am a white male after all! I have had the unexpected privilege of my race and sexual chromosomes. What information I have picked up regarding the wolves of the human world is from those who have been less fortunate by birth: women, POC, the poor, the less educated.

Every woman I have ever met has told me tales of being preyed upon by aggressive actors. In pornographic films the predator takes what it needs and the victims are left lying about; in various states of distress, undress and duress. In many cultures it gets muddy whether truth is following fiction or vice versa. My special mom is still wary at 97, “It’s never a good situation to have someone follow you.” I asked her to qualify her declaration so she tapped her finger on the arm of her chair telling me that many men are often “Up to no good.” I felt shamed.

In the wild there are many examples of predator/prey interactions. My students in elementary school learned about the food chain by pretending to be a creature on the menu for the lion on the lawn. The shrieks of children being chased and tagged in the schoolyard still ring in my ears. After the game we would plot graphs, draw pictures and study biomes to show just how wondrous is the web of life in a healthy world. At the end of the day even my 8 year olds could see that humans don’t play by the same rules of nature.

In the world of cinema there are many symbolic predators coming from space, the comic pages, or from an imaginary underworld. I was fascinated by the documentary Black Zombies which informed me of the roots of the horror film genre going back to slavery on the Island of Saint Domingue (now Haiti). In Vodou folklore the undead at least have a measure of peace from all the depravity of being stalked, hunted, bound, and sold.

Testosterone is not to blame. I was taught to never hit a girl, and to always show respect for the downtrodden. But even in sport you’ll hear aggression as though it is acceptable. Like a commentator who suggests that the team experiencing a wide lead on their opponents should “Kick them while they’re down.” In finance, the über wealthy are quick to take advantage of a floundering company. The political predators search for inconsistencies and perceived hypocrisies within the opposing candidates. Making the kill in these cases is about the predator breaking the will, not the bones, of those targeted.

Glorifying the predator, is no better than victimizing the prey. Grace must guide our way.

Re: Dent

Going to a dentist can put a dent in your bank account, especially if you don’t have insurance. I’ve never understood why teeth, eyes, and feet are not considered body parts worthy of Canada’s excellent health care system. I arranged a meeting with my Member of Parliament regarding the fact that my pension was considered too high for me to be included in the new free-access dental plan. Nothing was done about my complaint. That put a dent in my ego.

A teen-aged friend of mine once shocked me by purposefully kicking his car’s body, creating a noticeable dent on the surface. He had just brought it home from a used-car lot. I was congratulating him for being able to afford wheels. He explained that he didn’t want to drive around feeling worried all the time about that inevitable first fender-bender. This way he could make his mark before someone else did. Maybe in his mind he felt one good dent did not deserve another. He drove that car for a long time. It collected lots of scars. He called it a ‘Beater’, claiming it still worked, wouldn’t get stolen, and was easy to spot in a parking lot. A car with character!

Dents don’t need to be viewed as negative, or so I learned from that friend. A mar on something doesn’t means the object is close to being discarded. Taken to the extreme, we may look at others, spot their imperfections, and pass them off as abnormal. This fact of human nature makes me applaud plastic surgeons who enable children born with cleft pallets to appear normal. I would normally see these procedures as an act of vanity when it comes to rich folk maintaining their youthful looks (to me that’s a dent in character). But judgement is a slippery slope when it comes to defining Need, or Perfection. That’s why there are Art critics.

Sometimes aberrations in the flow while looking at an object can be pleasing to the eye. Furniture can be purposefully distressed to add to its design features. Raw edge shelving is hot right now, because I think it speaks to the variety found in nature; a smooth shoreline can be eroded by tidal action, wave action can make dents of all shapes and sizes in sandstone, just as the drip-drip-drip of raindrops in a temperate rain forest can sculpt the hardest rock. My definition of Beauty is not Perfection. Age creates its own sort of beauty; wrinkles can be the most intriguing make-up in my opinion. 

Growing older creates dents in our physical selves. The other day I scratched off a hard denticle-like thing on my skin, which resolved into a small crater. I wondered if I was moving into a shark-like phase of development. Mentally, I like beginning a project, or making a dent in it, before I run out of energy or motivation. There are increasing dents in my memory, but I think that just makes me a funny old grandpa. Hopefully not one who needs dentures.

Re: Dominion

The bible tells me so: Gen. 1 Verses 26 to 31 “And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.” But what if I don’t want to!

To have dominion is to control stuff and I believe it is wrong to dominate other living things. For some folk their god is all powerful, so we can be too. But really, as a hominid, I’m just another creeping thing that creepeth over the earth. The state of the planet right now only proves my point: If we had been put in charge of this place we’ve sure enough done a terrible job of it. If we were made in an image of god then we haven’t been creative enough in return. We haven’t been good stewards.

During the controlling phase of my life; when I felt things worked better by imposing order and good government, I had a small bonsai tree. Its roots were constricted like the feet of Chinese girls of ages past. Its limbs were shaped by twists of wire. Its growth was restricted by judicious use of fertilizer. I wasn’t a good pet keeper and this plant did not flourish. In the film Trees, And Other Entanglements, director Irene Taylor tells us of a famous Bonsai artist and others who attempt to represent their views of how plants should be shaped to serve our needs. It left me feeling a bit creepy.

Let’s face it, as a species we didn’t think through the whole industrial revolution period. Our machines have laid waste to the eden from whence we came. Now we find we must manage other species before the tipping point of their extinction. In university I studied for a degree in Fish and Wildlife Biology. Many of the courses described methods of farming multiple species so that these living resources could be effectively used to feed, clothe and house the ever growing and expanding human population. We were being trained to be efficient dominators of the environment’s flora and fauna. We studied how deer ate, so they could be fed better and then be hunted. We studied the salmon’s cycles so they would grow prosperous before they were netted. We studied forest growth so that we could improve tree yield before it could be harvested. We were given the licence to dominate every creature, animal or vegetable, to serve our own needs. We still fell short. We failed to be taught how to live with, rather than lord over, the Earth Garden.

Our colonizers, The British aristocracy, once ruled this land calling it The Dominion of Canada. The Crown still holds power in our affairs. The label has fallen out of favour but citizens may still proclaim allegiance during formal community events. I hope the age of possession is over. I don’t want us to be the master of all that we survey.

Re: Web

When I was a teacher, one of my students’ favourite outdoor chase/tag games was based on the food chain. Carnivores ran after herbivores who ran after the plants who had to wait within the boundary marked by a Hula hoop. A game for every personality type in a classroom. I never liked the predator/prey aspect to the activity but at least it started a discussion later in the classroom on the weblike nature of the environment.

The way that all species interact in a complex manner of energy transfer is becoming evident to all of us as we share information about climate change consequences. We are becoming educated to terms like keystone species. We are learning through shocking experience of the close knit connections along the web of life. We are not the top of some theoretical pyramid. All creatures, great and small, are important to sustaining a healthy planet. We have for too long viewed out earthly presence as if we were entitled to be lord and master of all we survey. We have tricked ourselves and lied to others about the interconnectedness of our existence.

“Oh what a what a tangled web we weave, when first we practise to deceive.” Was a quote from a poem by Sir Walter Scott that my mom used on me whenever she suspected I was lying to her, then I had to be careful not ‘to protest too much’ hence she would definitely know I was lying about something. I remember having a guilty conscience a lot of the time. My mother had a stout heart yet she was deathly afraid of bugs in general and ‘creepy crawly’ spiders in particular.  If webbing ever contacted her face she would shriek for mercy. My mom was not alone; Arachnophobia is on many people’s fear list. Me? I’m an Athazagoraphobe.

In my early adulthood I related to the existential wanderer, Silver Surfer, but my childhood comic book favourite was Spiderman. I liked the way he didn’t use a weapon that hurt, just an unbreakable passive/aggressive net. As a teen I was drawn to the cartoon Spidey, from the popular television series by Grantray-Lawrence Animation. The catchy theme song; “Spins a web, any size/catches thieves, just like flies” was by Paul Francis Webster and Bob Harris.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wl90tt4newk

What’s not to like about the World Wide Web (best invention in my lifetime). I depend on it for communication and researching, I spend a lot of time crawling/scrolling through digital threads. It can be a time suck but mostly it works like a mental butler. I definitely see the benefits to the  hammock-like inner world of pixillated Web Design. I might volunteer to be a test subject for the first WWW cranial implant.That way I wouldn’t be bound to my computer, I’d become one! I can see the ads for the procedure: “Enhance your memory! Win Debates! Be a trivia Titan! Get a prothesis to pontificate!”

Cyber Humans? Seems like a natural evolution.

Re: Park

A park is a lovely place to go on a summer’s day. In Canada we are blessed with policies that require governments to recognize the need for natural spaces and recreational parks where citizens can go to revitalize their tired urban spirits. Some neighbourhood parks are so small they are called parkettes. When I was raising a family my young boys would pace by the door asking to go to a small patch of grass containing one small climbing apparatus, directly across the street. It’s freeing to go to a park.

Now, finding a parking spot is a whole different scenario. How one word can carry two very different connotations is an example of the confusion found by some in the intricacies of the English language. And getting a parking ticket is the height of insult to me. My sister used to just stuff her parking tickets into her glovebox, avoiding paying until they came with additional fines. When I walk by a parked car with a ticket under its windshield wiper I always feel sorry for the owner. I’ve had so few I remember the circumstances in detail, but I’ll keep it short: One was in Toronto where I had parked on a street that was signed ambiguously (I almost got towed that time), another time in Toronto was on a quiet residential street where I had parked a large moving van, once in Vancouver’s Stanley Park I parked unknowingly in front of the  ticketing agent sitting in his unmarked vehicle and lastly in Victoria B.C. I had parked my tiny moped in what turned out to be a construction zone (I found the ticket neatly rolled and taped around my handlebar). Have a nice day!

Even when I am sure I am parked legally I am anxious until I can get back to my vehicle and gaze at the clear windshield. On street parking comes with the additional risk of being broken into. A city parkade with its multiple levels is also a source of stress for me. Even though I like the security and the friendly gate keeper the tight spaces make me fear scratches. And finding the car on return is easier than when you park at those huge Box Store parking lots. My wife is a whiz at navigating the tight corners of the ramps in downtown parkades and doesn’t seem at all concerned that the traffic control bar might come crashing down on the car’s hood before she has made it safely back onto the street. I find it best to close my eyes when I’m her passenger.

Once I tried to fight a parking ticket at city hall. I had to make an appointment with the mayor’s assistant. I came early and parked outside, near a municipal park, feeling calmed by three Garry Oak and a memorial fountain. I presented my evidence and supporting documentation, but the parking authority bureaucrats politely disagreed with my assessment of the situation. I drove home listening to Joni Mitchell. It helped.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWwUJH70ubM

Re: Crisis

What one considers a crisis is subjective. I write this knowing that the troubles in my life can’t be ranked on the scale of dilemmas others in the world have now, or will experience. For example, on tonight’s news, I just watched horrified as hundreds gathered at the Kandahar airstrip clambering onto the fuselage of a taxiing aircraft. That was a scene of crisis on an unforgiving and unforgivable scale.

One could say that our thoughts on crises are all relative. Yet that is so dismissive. I’ve known people who would not admit their troubles just because they thought others suffered more. That would be like not talking about love because you feel outclassed by romantic stories you have heard others share. Shakespeare, Byron or Browning would advise you to proclaim your love in words relatable. Every person’s feeling has value, from woe to whimsy. Judgements on the quality or quantity of your experience will only send you into a crisis of confidence.

I’ve had momentary crises; like locking my keys inside my car, forgetting important papers for a meeting, or getting stuck in traffic. I’ve had prolonged crises that have required persistence and courage. Recently my hot water tank burst moments before I came downstairs to make my morning coffee. I stepped into a puddle of water and immediately panicked but then sprang into action, took off my terry towel bathrobe with a Sir Frances Drake flourish, dropping it on the water so I wouldn’t slip. I turned off main valve and clicked the power switch to the unit. I called the plumber to arrange repair, mopped and prepped the area. Within 30 hours from start to finish it was all sorted. I felt gratitude that I had been there to catch the situation before it became the crisis that it wasn’t.

We can’t always be so lucky. And yet our imaginations can lead us into crisis mode so quickly. A problem that is hard to solve at first glance may be deemed a crisis, that’s when you need help and you need to work toward a solution. I’m learning to be more critical while in the throes of a crisis. Even a moment, for prayer or meditation, can give me the time gap needed to act more efficiently, prudently, safely. I worked with a school principal who told me he handled a crisis by giving it to someone else. Others I’ve known have been able to just let things be. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-TGg7cGQRlg

As far as the climate crisis goes we can’t just let it be. Neither can we turn it over to someone else to fix. Regular maintenance of our selves, our institutions or our systems will minimize problems. The evidence of our neglect of the planet has been around for many years and yet we continue to fail to act. We ignore all warning signs of a crisis at our peril. Now we find ourselves in a perilous planetary situation. Our Earth is calling for a common collective critical response.

We must answer.