Of Signs and Squirrels

I am sitting at the desk in my office, looking out the window.  The back yard of the house that is now offices, in downtown Toronto, is partially covered in bright white snow.  The cloudless sky allows the sun to cast complex tree shadows on the dull brown fence and frozen earth.  The old trees soar up seventy feet or more and I gaze through their interconnected branches at the clear blue February sky.

Suddenly, my eye registers movement and I focus on the area where it seemed to occur but can see nothing but fence and trees shadows.  Again, it happens, somewhere else in the window-framed view of the yard.  Again and again, I move my eyes to the perceived movement.  And finally, my brain perceives the shape of a black squirrel on top of the fence silhouetted against the sky.  It is perfectly still but, after a few moments, it darts up one of the trees.  Now, knowing what shape to look for, I pick out four individual squirrels moving in fits and starts along the fence, up the trunks and through the shadows and branches.  And then, they disappear from view entirely.

It is Friday and I am a little fatigued as I wait for my next client to arrive.  This is the perfect state for simply looking out the window and paying attention to my own breath; a kind of meditation.  Behind the fence is a railway track, Canadian Pacific, and freight trains rumble by every half hour or so.  I see two people walking along the tracks.  One is carrying a travel coffee mug so they must be out for a walk.  Perhaps there is a path alongside the tracks.  A small airplane, bright and shiny in the sun, cuts through the sky and moves across my view.  It is easy to see as the white contrasts the azure blue sky.  It moves at a steady rate which my aging eyes appreciate.  Nothing like the black squirrels camouflaged in the shadows. 

I notice the breeze gently moving the dead brown stalks of last summer’s garden.  It is funny how movement “catches the eye”.  However, the wind is not strong enough to make the tree branches move.  I think about the perennial roots in the garden waiting under the snow for warmth and water.  Waiting as I wait for the next client.  Stillness, movement and waiting, my world becomes simple for the moment.  My breath moving in, pausing and moving out.  I find a still point in my busy life, this busy world.

Then the squirrels reappear chasing one another.  I know that this is the February mating ritual and that in 40 to 45 days, there will be baby squirrels born in their snug leafy nests at the tops of the trees.  Earlier this week, we caught scent and sight of a skunk, roused from his hibernation with the need to “off gas” before returning to his sleep for a while longer.  The days are noticeably longer and I got to my office this morning in the light after three months of arriving in the dark.  The sun feels warmer now, even on a cold day.  These are the signs of spring that occur in February.  Although there is still winter weather ahead, we recognize these age-old signs that foreshadow spring’s arrival, if we know what to look for despite the snow and ice.

Likewise, I scan the news, internet and stories that people tell me for signs of positive change, signs of hope in this world that is in transition.  It seems to be a time of reckoning.  Our chickens have come home to roost.  Colonial, capitalist, business-as-usual looks more and more harmful and precarious.  Women fight for the right to determine what happens to their bodies, in court, in social media and in their relationships.  Sexual assaults that were once “normal” are now seen as abusive.  No means no!  Indigenous people fight for the right to determine what happens on their territories, to the earth and the water, in courts, protests and on blockades.  Land that was taken without treaty is now seen as stolen.  Land that was stripped of its resources is now being protected.  No means no!

Things are changing.  I look for signs of people creating innovative solutions, co-creating new ways of doing business, new ways of collaborating to solve old problems, learning that no means no.  It is like watching the shadows carefully enough to see the squirrels moving through the trees, creating new life – hard to see, until you know what you’re looking for.

As we spot the signs, we are offered hope and inspiration.  We can join in whatever new stories excite us.  We can invest our time and resources in those and feel the energy of a new way of doing business as it is born.

There is a point in a Canadian winter when you feel as though it will never end.  That is why knowing what to look for is important to keep your spirits up.  I find people can easily feel that way about the state of the world – that it is hopeless.  But the squirrels have taught me to look carefully in tree shadows for signs of new life.  They are wise teachers and I am grateful for their gift.

Reweaving the Web

Here are some inspiring stories about people young and old who are working to protect Earth and its inhabitants in the face of climate change.

Nature Represented

Ecuador was the first country to grant rights to nature under fundamental primary law.  Nature Represented allows lawyers around the world to donate hours to legally represent and protect elements of nature in Ecuador.  Check out this video:

Students Inspire Climate Emergency Declaration

Seven students from Camilla Road Senior Public School in Mississauga made a deputation to Mississauga City Council in June of 2019.   With the support of their Eco Club and teachers, the students decided to focus on a climate emergency declaration to help current and future city councils to commit to take effective action.  The council unanimously voted to declare a climate emergency.  The students took turns making the presentation.  Their names are Luxmeena Arulanantham, Aliza Baig, Ksenia Chmurzynski, Sophia DeGraaf, Omnea Fakhri, Siyona Rathore and Kiran Suresh. 

The council will release a climate plan later this year with concrete actions to reduce carbon emissions. (Finding Solutions, David Suzuki Foundation, Fall 2019)

Youth Take Canada to Court

\Photo: Robin Loznak via Our Children’s Trust)

The David Suzuki Foundation is supporting fifteen young people aged 7 to 19 years in age who have filed a lawsuit in the Federal Court of Canada in October 2019.  The youth are from seven provinces and one territory and are Indigenous and non-Indigenous. 

 “They’re alleging that the federal government causes, contributes to and allows dangerous levels of greenhouse gas emissions and is responsible for the specific individualized climate change impacts they are experiencing.” (Finding Solutions, David Suzuki Foundation, Fall 2019)

These young people are supported by the David Suzuki Foundation, Pacific Centre for Environmental Law and Litigation and Our Children’s Trust.  They are represented by law firms Arvay Finlay LLP and Tollefson Law Corporation.

This case will take the Canadian youth climate movement into the courts.  The suit aims to change how we are governed, our economies and to protect and preserve a livable climate for generations to come.

In each of these cases, people are working together across geographical boundaries, age differences, and cultural differences toward the common goal of protecting our home.  Perhaps, the separation and alienation that has created the problems we are experiencing are being rewoven as people form relationships in order to tackle the problem.  Perhaps, the fact that the problem is so big is the impetus for us to relearn the importance of interconnectedness and relationship.

Where Can You Stand When the World is on Fire?

The woman began to cry as she told the story.  She had once been so proud of her American pioneer family.  You could see it in her eyes.  She seemed to stand taller on the shoulders of these ancestors.  “But,” she said between the tears, “I’ve now learned about how much harm they created.”  The weight of that statement sat in the centre of our small circle in the midst of a storytelling workshop.  No one tried to sweep it away or deny its veracity.  It was true for all of us there.  Our ancestors have caused so much harm.

Pádraig Ó Tuama

The next evening, I was listening to a podcast suggested by a neighbour. One of the people being interviewed was Pádraig Ó Tuama who is an Irish poet, theologian and conflict mediator.  The interviewer read something that he had written and it felt important to me.  She read,  “These are the kind of things we need for the tired spaces of our world. This is the way we need to move forward in a world that is so interested in being comforted by the damp blanket of bad stories. We need stories of belonging that move us towards each other, not from each other; ways of being human that open up the possibilities of being alive together; ways of navigating our differences that deepen our curiosity, that deepen our friendship, that deepen our capacity to disagree, that deepen the argument of being alive. This is what we need. This is what will save us. This is the work of peace. This is the work of imagination.”

Ó Tuama responded to this by talking about how, when we look at our history, we feel shame.  And then we don’t want to look at it.  We want to cover it up, we want to protect ourselves.  He went on saying, “ When we can look to our shameful pasts — and in national contexts, we all have shameful pasts. The Irish, we love to talk about: “Aren’t we all against the British?” However, then, when you look at the history of the Irish in Jamaica and Australia, we went there and did everything that was done to us. We didn’t learn very well from our hunger that drove us from the land. I find that there is shame to be discovered in so many narratives and that some way of thinking: “To whom can I turn to find my place of standing when it feels like the world is on fire?” And for me, that’s the invitation of a painful history, is to do that together. And that is always difficult, but it is always true. Anything else fails us.”

I hear more and more Canadians starting to do just this.  There is no shortage of written materials in a variety of formats as well as art installations, plays and events created by Indigenous Peoples to help us understand our own history.  As we uncover and absorb the truth that was hidden from us, our narrative of innocence falls away.  The story that we told ourselves about ourselves must change.  As one story crumbles, there will be grief for many.  Perhaps they stood on the shoulders of those early settlers and now are looking for a place to stand.  Some feel that their ancestors have disappointed them.  Perhaps the stories told were based on the values of a culture that is now seen as destructive.  I am hearing fewer stories that deny what we now know happened on this land we call Canada so perhaps we are slowly changing our collective story.

Ó Tuama feels that a possible counterpoint for shame is trust.  He translates an Irish phrase about trust as ““You are the place where I stand on the day when my feet are sore.”  You can probably hear that phrase being spoken with an Irish lilt.  Hearing Ó Tuama  speak these words got me thinking about how we can bring trust into our conversations as an antidote to shame.  Trust, in a world which seems full of lies, fake news, polarized politics and yet another revealed horror from the past.  How can we be places for each other to stand when our feet are sore, when our hearts are world weary?  If Ó Tuama is correct, that we can only do this together, then what would that look like, what would that sound like?

Perhaps, it would be the silence and presence of listening to each other tell our old stories and gradually find new ones.  Perhaps, it would be learning from Indigenous Elders about how to be on the Earth together.  Perhaps, it would be sharing books, information and invitations to learn from those who have been silenced and made invisible.  Perhaps, in our brokenness, we can find the pieces to change the systems that we are ashamed of, together.  Perhaps, it is holding the space for one courageous woman who trusted us enough to speak her truth, acknowledge her tears and feel the shame of our past, together.

Craving Green and Discovering Heart Nourishment

Amidst the greyness of mid-winter I always begin to crave green.  Not only do my eyes crave the brightness and hope of the colour appearing on the land and in the trees but I crave green foods as well.  Perhaps my body knows something about the power of chlorophyll for my health.  I remember that the molecules of chlorophyll and hemoglobin are identical except for two atoms.  Chlorophyll is built around magnesium and hemoglobin is built around iron.  I’m not sure how that translates into health, but I imagine that my blood misses it’s close relative and begins to pine for it.  Perhaps this is a bit lyrical, but it's February!

I have been trying to eat what is in season and what is local as much as possible.  Except for bananas and citrus fruits.  I am no extremist.  I am just experimenting with how much local food I can actually find.  The farmer’s market is a good place to get local eggs, cheese, sausages from local pork, bread and seasonal vegetables.  At the supermarket, I have sourced local greenhouse cucumbers and tomatoes. I also froze local beans, cauliflower, asparagus and pumpkins in the fall.

So, imagine my glee at rediscovering a local hydroponic growing operation called, Operation Grow.  This business has been developing over a few years and they sell to local restaurants.  However, they are gearing up their retail side of things and are now open five days a week for shopping.  Using tall vertical racks of hydroponic pots, they are growing lettuce, kale, spinach, arugula, as well as a selection of fresh herbs.  They are also creating pesto and other garnishes as well as soups, salad dressings, cookies and brownies made with some of the plants grown on the site.

Food grown hydroponically means a year-round supply, no use of pesticides or herbicides,70 - 80% less use of water while LED lights provide 12 – 18 hours of light daily.  

But the story gets better.  Operation Grow is a business run by Huronia Transition Homes (HTH) which also runs La Maison Rosewood Shelter in Midland for women experiencing domestic violence.   Women who are transitioning out of the shelter can find low-barrier work and connection with other people by working at the hydroponic farm.  Up to 27 people can work there within a week as well as a full-time cultivator.  Proceeds from this business help to fund programs at HTH which seeks to end violence against women.  And it is ironic to know that Operation Grow was all built inside an old LCBO building since alcohol use is linked to domestic violence.

After reading about Operation Grow in the local Midland newspaper, we happily fed my craving for green by buying two kinds of lettuce, fresh parsley as well as a jar of sweet potato and kale soup.  We intend to go back every week and support this amazing initiative.  As we munched the salad we made from the lettuce and enjoyed the lovely soup, we felt nourished in our bodies and our hearts.  The food felt like nourishment for a better world.  What a creative way to help women rewrite their own stories and create better lives.

I also came across this video by Sarah MacGillvray who performs this spoken word piece, challenging the stereotype of the term "old hag".  Check it out as yet another story of women is rewritten.