When it comes to Love we all need back up

One of my favorite movies to watch over the holidays is About a Boy with Hugh Grant. I love the ending where Markus, the geeky kid, who latches onto Hugh Grant's character, talks about the fact that two isn't enough. It isn't enough to just be a couple. It takes a lot more people because you need backup in case something happens to one of you. And Grant, after a lifetime of aimless, self-serving, bachelorhood scamming women to meet women figures out that No Man is an Island and that letting others in is the fastest way to opening up the heart.  It's a great message, seemingly trite and yet so accurate.

I looked around this Christmas and saw that reality everywhere.  In the team of caregivers that look after "my lady". In the way my co-worker works out daycare for her kids. Spending time with my Dad and marvelling at his health at 91, going for a walk with him on his hour-long route. Seeing how a friend of mine is now making connections with the neighbours of a relative who has suddenly experienced the onset of some confusing behaviour that has not previously been exhibited and needs watchful eyes and helping hands around. 

The feeling of lovingness I experience when my phone rings immediately upon my arrival home after work today to be invited for dinner by Tom and Linda so we can catch up. Seeing Konor thriving at 8 months and remembering what he looked like in the ICU at Childrens' Hospital last March. Being embraced by Peggy and Chris as always. Spending time with my sister June and her friend Sheila in a Boxing Day tradition. Meeting up with Dee and catching up. Hearing about Neil and Beth's Christmas at Fairhaven. Circles of connectedness.

I've spent half my life wishing I could be like everyone else who seemed to have no trouble being part of a couple and me thinking that's the way things should be only to discover that in fact, more often than not, being part of a couple isn't really all it's cracked up to be.

I spent half my life feeling that letting people in was too messy and that if I let them in I wouldn't get to do what I wanted. It was an either/or reality; a perception developed from watching my own surroundings while I was growing up. It has taken a long time to recognize it doesn't have to be that way.

I can not deny the irony that after so many years of wishing I could have a long-term relationship, that I now thrive in the awareness that being single has allowed me to be part of a lot of different communities - to slip in and out of those - more easily that I believe would be the case if I had been with just one other person who was consistently demanding, just by the nature of a relationship, a large part of my emotional energy and time.

It's good to finally realize that maybe you really do get what you need and what we all truly need is back up! It can be good to have one loving person for back-up, but it's much better, (a necessity really)  to have a lot of back up; as much back up as possible.

May we all strive for that reality in the new year if we have yet to manifest it to the degree we would like.

Happy New Year.

A Curried, Perogy, Sashimi Christmas

As is often the case when I come back to Vancouver to visit, it's a bit of "lets play musical houses" by the time I catch up with friends. I didn't want this visit to be a marathon of scrambling and driving around so it's been quite an enjoyable, low-key kinda meandering through Christmas visit.

I spent the 23rd with Colleen in East Van and it was very refreshing to step out of the Christmas scene for an evening and eat out at East is East on Main Street, a narrow little place with carpets on the walls, what has to be the very best Chai in the city and an atmosphere that's reminscent of the old Afghan Horseman restaurant that used to be on Broadway at Cambie, but way smaller and with a lot more light. There was a classical guitarist playing when we arrived and then someone took over playing the sitar. I love the sitar but I'm sure if Ravi Shankar had been there his advice to this fellow would have been, "Don't give up your day job!"

The wooden tables are low to the ground and it's just a really cozy atmosphere with really healthy food. I noticed that Gabor Mate was seated beside us constantly checking his cell phone and there were even a few toddlers who wanted to get as close as possible to the guitar player.

I stayed overnight with  my Dad in Surrey on the 24th and really enjoyed making him dinner and spending Christmas morning with him. My brother joined us for an omelette and bacon. My dad and I toasted Christmas with champagne and orange juice and perhaps having my twin brother and I in the same room at the same time and actually enjoying each other's company was my father's real Christmas present. 

In the late afternoon I drove over to New West to be with The Johns for some delicious turkey and stuffing (made by  Courtenay and supervised by Peggy) two kinds of perogies, cabbage rolls, yams, cranberry sauce, and special Christmas pudding followed by multiple games of Scrabble and Cranium. Finally, around midnight I dropped into a deep sleep down in the cave (the suite in the basement). It was way too short a visit. Way too short! I'm still mulling over how I can get back for a quick tea break.

But, it was time to get over to Burnaby and visit  my sister and her good friend. This has become a bit of a boxing day tradition. We went out for Japanese food at Kura in Burnaby and now I"m sitting enjoying the beauty of my sister's apartment looking at all her Christmas decorations and blogging beside the glow of the fireplace.

Tomorrow it's on to Port Moody to see Lisa's new digs and to visit with her and Konor and  I'm still hoping to catch up with a few more friends before getting back on the ferry on Monday night. This time I really feel like I'm not ready for time to be moving this fast.

If there's one thing I miss while living on Salt Spring it's the lack of ethnic diversity which gets reflected in the cultural offerings to a certain degree and even more so in the choice of decent ethnic eateries.

Most of all, however, I miss the feeling of being able to just call up my friends like I used to and just drop by, go for a walk, hang out or meet them at The Sylvia after a walk in the park. Without that person to person ongoing creation of new memories, I worry that they will slip away.

It can take no time at all to make a new friend but it takes a long time to cultivate the chemistry and the ease of connection that occurs with friendships that have grown stronger over time for reasons that aren't even always explainable.

So far, a lovely time...

It Takes a Village to Care for the most Fragile

The fragility of this spider web reminds me of the fine line between the haves and have nots. The berries are the wealth in the world and the web is the majority of the world who are barely surviving; invisible, clinging to hope.

He sort of lumbers when he walks from side to side as if his feet are sore. He's big and wide and black. He has a name from the bible. He's 57-years-old.  He brought me a Christmas card the other day because he's come into our office more than a few times and in real terms, in ways that I could really make a difference, I've done very little for him. I've been friendly. I can't fix his reality.

I don't know how he got on this island or how long he's lived here. I think he's lived here for quite a few years and prior to this year he claims he's never been homeless. He is sleeping on the cement, under the shelter of the United Church's porch roof. He has a foamy and a sleeping bag.  As long as the temperature is above freezing, there are no cold weather shelters on the island but there is a lot of support for such a small place. There's a transition centre for women and another one for men who can spend a maximum of three months there. He's already used up his three months.

When the temperature dips below freezing as it did a few weeks back, the Salt Spring Community Centre opens its doors at 6:00 pm. There were approximately 9 people who had to make use of it.

"Are you cold?" I ask him.

"No, I'm not cold," he says. "My back's sore," he says.

The difference between this man and a lot of others is that he isn't complaining. He doesn't expect anything, at least not from us. He doesn't come across as hopeless. He tells me, when I sound worried about him, that he's okay. "Things will get better," he says. "I'll get a job again in March." He lacks a sense of entitlement.

If you're homeless, you can get food on Salt Spring almost every day of the week - usually a free lunch. While there is never enough, there is quite a bit of support here from the churches and the amazing community centre which is also where the Food Bank is located. There is someone who works there whom I've never met named Jamie Alexander who is the main interface to the community and he sounds like an amazing guy.

My co-worker, on more than one occasion, has had people in her office - men and women - who end up in tears. The woman who is fleeing an abusive relationship from another province. The guy whose baby died of SIDS a few months ago and is about to head off to rehab as soon as he can catch a ride to where he needs to go off island. The woman who has used up her employment insurance and can't seem to get the type of job on island that she's qualified for but she's lived here for 10  years and this is her home. And, there's the people who have come here because they wanted to live here but had no idea that jobs were so limited. You wonder how that couldn't be obvious  - the fact that jobs are limited on a small island - but you bite your tongue.

I don't feel guilty. I feel curious. I don't feel sympathy. I feel empathy. I feel gratitude (there but for the grace of God, go I). I don't feel judgmental, but there are days when I'm very judgmental.  I feel philosophical. I don't feel responsible, I wonder about all the personal choices that have led them to where they are now. A lot of the time I feel powerless knowing that listening is the only concrete thing of value I can give.

When I lived in the West End, I passed homeless people every single day. I became hardened to them because I didn't know them and there were so many that the only way to carry on was to become oblivious. It's not so easy in a small town to do that when you get to know them as people first.

This man says he will drop in again tomorrow. I'm ready. I have something to give him to brighten his day. Afterall, he's truly the only person I know who needs a gift to remind him that strangers do care and to perhaps help, just a little, to keep his hope alive.