Kid Spirit

You know that feeling when some past memory is unearthed and hits you square on? Something about the start of summer reminds me a lot of childhood. I took a walk around the block the other day. Unlike other parts of the year, when hot weather arrives kids are let outside. I passed by several groups of kids who were in a state of enthrallment, screaming with joy upon discovering the joy of jumping through a sprinkler. Oh, to be 10 again.

I just finished rereading Gerald Durrell’s, My Family and Other Animals, so perhaps I was already in a kid state of mind — remembering what it is like to be close to the ground.

Photo credit

Good Listening

I have a penchant for documentaries. (Last week, I found myself absorbed for a half hour by an episode of the BBC Series, Planet Earth.) Here’s another epic undertaking: 6 Billion Others, a documentary in the making, which is attempting to provide a snapshot of humanity through the thoughts and stories of its international subjects. As with the best storytelling, the narrator is transparent.

Apparently, what inspired the project is this incident:

Stepping Stones

I was watching tv the other day and recognized someone I used to know being interviewed about a program, called Stepping Stones (based in Vancouver), devoted to helping teen moms. One year, my caregroup got involved with their Christmas drive. It turns out that the program has been nominated as a City Hero by one of our local tv stations. That is pretty neat.

I don’t really recall many teen moms in my high school, but maybe that is because they didn’t come. Some research says that if your mom was a teen mom, you are more likely to be a teen mom yourself. A cycle of poverty can be difficult to break.

Forgiveness

A coworker and I were talking the other day about the necessity of forgiveness and the challenges that it brings. Colossians tells us to forgive as the Lord forgave us.

However, if it is a serious issue, we may say we forgive someone, but still harbor a grudge against them. Sometimes it takes all we have to move forward in an automated polite mode without really feeling forgiveness and peace for that individual. But just because we forgive someone does it necessarily mean we will forget the injustice? The author of Hebrews quotes Jeremiah, writing about the new covenant, “For I [that is, God] will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more”. I’m curious about how much grace we have here. Sounds to me that there is an act of ‘will’ involved to complete the process.

Gardening

Since I had an appointment close to home this morning, I decided to forgo my regular commute and work from home. This gave me a chance to multi-task: do a few loads of laundry and, since the weather was particularly great, get out on my deck to see how my plants survived the winter and figure out what to plant for this year.

Unlike previous years, my pots were full of a variety of sprouting moss and strange looking ferns. My California Lilac that had struggled all last summer was a stiffened dead mass and a mock orange that my aunt gave me last year is looking quite bedraggled. Still, I’m quite energized by having dug around in the dirt and clearing away all the dead bits. What will grow this year? It’s an exciting mystery.

For Mother’s Day

I didn’t realize until today that Mother’s Day in the US has its roots in peacemaking: in particular, how the movement for this honorary day started with activists Julia Ward Howe and Anna Jarvis.

I was listening to CNN earlier today and caught an interview with Queen Noor of Jordon, again connecting Mother’s Day and peace in the Middle East. See related article:

Having traditionally occupied a paradoxical position at the heart of society but on the fringes of power, women often bring unique strengths, talents, and perspectives to the quest to resolve conflict and establish freedom. They are willing and able to cut across ethnic, religious and tribal barriers, and break through obstacles through peace in order to do what is best for their families.

See also this campaign.

How many African Countries can you name?

Spelling and speed count for this quiz. Time to pull out ye old map for a study session.

Sur-realness

I realized not too long ago that my passport was due to expire in a few months and given the increase in the number of people applying for this type of document since the new year, I thought I’d better go ahead and apply for a new one. So today I left work early (on a gloriously sunny day) to pay my visit to the passport office.

I’d forgotten how surreal it feels to visit such a government office. Here you are sitting in a busy room waiting for something to happen, surrounded by a large group of nervous people. (Their nervousness could be a result of staring at a digitized board waiting for their random number to display so that they can talk to an agent, that they need their passport urgently, that they don’t think they filled out their application properly, that they are not sure they will be approved, …) You know something is going to happen, but you’re not exactly sure what or when. It’s a bit like real life (that which we live outside the passport office), only in *reality* most people suppress their nervousness and pretend.

Anyway, as I was sitting there people-watching, half-thinking about the digital numbers on the queue board, I also started compiling a small list of user-experience improvements:

• I managed to walk right by the commissioner who is supposed to stamp your hand and escort you up to the office. There was no desk, no sign, and actually no commissioner when I passed by. And after the elevator button didn’t work, and two nice office ladies told me about the commissioner, and I made my way back to where he was supposed to be, the only evidence I saw of his post were a few forms tucked on a window sill.

• “Start here” signage was also missing inside the office. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only one who entered the room in a dazed fashion. (While you wait for your number to display on the queue board, you are seated in some chairs that face the entrance. So, you get a prime view of the action.)

I guess my over-sightedness is really no surprise though. I suspect that there were plenty of cues for me to catch.

Silence for a Bit

Just writing this post to encourage myself to finish this year’s tax reporting before the deadline. I have nothing against the tax man. In fact, I take a certain satisfaction from completing tax forms. But, each April I’m reminded of how much of a procrastinator I am. Thankfully, the Canadian deadline is still a few days away!

So, until I’ve completed the filing process and put away all my papers, I have it on my agenda to lay low for a bit.

Fervor

At different points today, I heard two presentations by two very passionate and eloquent speakers, Stephen Lewis (speaking at an event organized by the Langley Fine Arts School in part to raise awareness of their sister schools initiative in Kenya) and Joseph D’Souza (speaking at a morning church service).

Not to draw comparisons, but it is a bit surprising (and overwhelming) to have caught both talks on the same day. Both Mr. Lewis and Mr. D’Souza speak to inform, to challenge, and to inspire change. Stephen Lewis speaks about Africa, the effect of the AIDS pandemic, its ties to gender inequality and Western exploitation, how education is the key to restoration, and how we can be involved. Joseph D’Souza talks about the ongoing plight of the Dalit people of India and social injustice. Both provide invitations to respond.

Of note: Stephen Lewis mentioned Swaziland about 4 or 5 times in his presentation when giving facts and figures, and personal accounts of his recent visits. This of course caught my attention — having lived there in the mid eighties. Over the past couple of years, I’ve been growing increasingly aware of the fact that the country as I knew it as a child no longer exists.

Lewis talked about how the effects of the AIDS pandemic didn’t really start to become apparent until the late 90s/early 2000 when those who had been previously infected began to die. Not only has this had an unbelievable effect on the average family structure, but now the effect is staggeringly apparent in other parts of life. For example, 70% of teachers are too ill to go to the schools where they teach.

There were many facts and figures. I was too busy listening to write them down.

Someone at the end asked Mr. Lewis how he reconciled what he saw in Africa with life in North America and our ambivalence…how he kept going and didn’t throw up his hands in desperation.

Mr. Lewis is not one for short responses … but his message is not filled with empty grandiosity. You realize pretty quickly that there is so much for him to say. And that there is a glimpse of hope that we can all be a part of.