Learning and understanding

I have too much time in waiting rooms where I am exposed to some advertising that causes me to wonder about the future of humanity. So apparently gluten is the source of all that will destroy the world.  For people who are affected by celiac and related issues, it is a problem, but for the rest of us, it’s not.  Just to sum up quickly, gluten is a complex of proteins found in wheat, barley and rye.  In a simplistic approach, if a food contains wheat, barley or rye, then there is a likelihood that it will also contain gluten.  Notable exceptions are alcohols (spirits), because protein molecules are not volatile and therefore are not captured in the distillation process.  Foods that do not have wheat, barley and rye are naturally gluten-free, like rice, vegetables, fruit and meat.  So when, this week, I saw an advertisement for “whole grain, gluten-free” popcorn, I had to ask — what on earth is that?  Technically, it’s accurate, since popcorn is a whol...

I intensely dislike Disney’s A Little Mermaid, while I love the Hans Christian Anderson version.  I remember that I traumatized a student once by telling her that the unnamed mermaid does not marry the prince, but dies.  I’m not sure that she’s forgiven me yet, and I’ve had my niece ban me from telling her about books that were made into movies because I might cause her the same shock. It’s true that I, like many other members of the book-loving public, am often disappointed by the film adaptations of my favourites.  I understand, at least intellectually, that a book cannot be perfectly translated into a visual medium, and that there is a need to edit and adapt to fit the medium, running length, audience appeal, and a range of other factors.  I accept that my tastes may not be the same as the general public or even others who are generally similar to me (my friends will tell you that I am never one to go to a “chick flick” with all the angst that accompanies the st...

“Off on another trip?  You’re so lucky to travel as much as you do... I wish that I could travel too.”  I’ve been having this conversation several times lately.  It’s an echo of one I had with a former, now deceased, colleague many years ago.  She was talking about a planned trip somewhere off the beaten track, and I said almost the same words to her.  Her reply stuck with me since then, even though we were never friends.  She said, “you have leave available to you, and you have a steady income. You can choose to travel if that’s important to you.” At the time, I said that I couldn’t because I had obligations, that I didn’t have anyone who would travel with me, and I had a long list of excuses as to why not.  My colleague pointed out that I had the choice to do what was important to me.  That was a slow-dawning revelation, which was reinforced by several elders who stressed the importance of self care.  One of the things that I had to learn...

I celebrated my 50th birthday this week.  As everyone has pointed out, it’s a milestone; half a century.  It’s an age that I wasn’t sure that I would actually reach, given last year’s particular challenges.  I decided to have a gala event to celebrate, since my doctor had withheld permission for me to travel.  The event was marvellous, with many of my close friends there to share with me. When I turned 40, I was horribly depressed.  I didn’t want to be 40.  It sounded like I was old, passé, ready to be turned out to pasture and beyond help.  I felt like I had failed in many of my goals, and that I would never accomplish anything worthwhile.  My friends did come out to celebrate, but I kept it very low-key, and issued a ban on any commemorative “you’re 40” material.  I spent time comparing myself to my contemporaries and colleagues, and felt that I hadn’t accomplished anything.    I was full of regrets and recriminations. Obvious...

It’s been a year since I was stopped from working.  A year when I have worked to redefine myself and find meaning in a confusing world.  I haven’t. I’d like to pretend that I have but… So a year ago when I dropped off my certificate saying that I would not be working, I was probably one of the few people who expected that I would be here this year — I had said to my doctor that my goal was to be travelling for my birthday this year.  He was diplomatic but not too optimistic. As I’ve documented elsewhere, it hasn’t been an easy year.  Giving up my identity as a public servant was not something that I had expected for a while yet, and ending my working time abruptly was difficult.  Balancing my sudden liberty with my treatments was also not enjoyable.  As my strength returned, my frustrations also grew.  It’s been hard, but I had to admit that my capacity for work is not where it used to be; that I cannot manage anything like a full day’s work, and I ...

I just got back from my weekly grocery run.  I rather enjoy these shopping runs, partly because cooking is my domestic skill and partly for the samples and interactions that occur.  Today the samples included a cane-sugar-sweetened soda, some “healthy snacks” and some convenience foods. Let’s overlook actual science as we sample, shall we?  This may hurt!  So... the man promoting the soda informed me that since it was sweetened with “organic cane sugar” it was “healthier for you than water.”  Because organic.  The snacks included some bars that the woman promoting assured me were “complete nutritional support” despite being more than 40% sugar and containing 200% of the recommended daily allowance of salt, because they contained whole grains (and 1g of fibre per bar.  I think that they had 1 whole oat grain per package.) Among the convenience foods was a new, “smart alternative” chicken burger under the “heart healthy” label... containing twice the f...

When I was a student in high school, in the assembly Hall there was a balcony area.  When there was a full school assembly (other than for morning roll-call and prayers) the top class, the Sixth Form, had the exclusive right to sit there, out of sight of the teachers. All of the lower school longed for the day when they were in the Sixth and could sit there.  We wanted to do well enough in Fifth form exams to be able to return, and then to exercise our privilege for the balcony.  When my year was finishing the Fourth form, the rule changed under the new principal, allowing all classes above the Third access to the balcony. One of the nuns tried to explain that in fairness to everyone, they were removing this privilege— not everyone, she told us, made it to the Sixth, so it’s only fair that everyone have an opportunity.   We, and the Fifth, complained.  “It’s not fair!  We’ve waited all these years to get there!  If girls want to sit there, they sh...

“Do you know how to select a ripe avocado?” I was asked this in the supermarket last week, by a bemused-looking man staring at a pile of them.  I had gone to select one of the smooth-skinned avocados as a treat for myself, instead of the smaller, wrinkled ones that are so popular here.  We struck up a conversation as I showed him how to test for fullness and helped him choose one that would ripen by the next day.  Walking away, I remembered a story told by one of my friends of when her family had first arrived in Canada, and they’d gone shopping.  Their host family had praised broccoli, so my friend bought a head and carefully prepared it, stripping off the “leaves” and peeling the stem... and she wondered why everyone was excited about the pale green, slightly woody, not especially flavoured centre.   For myself, I remember when I was gifted my first zucchini — a monster that probably weighed 5kg — and I brought it home with no idea of what to do with this gian...

Anyone else concerned about the way discussions are trending these days?  It seems like it’s impossible to have a difference of opinion without it descending into name calling, abuse and insults. My dear friend keeps sending me emails to warn me not to get into threads on social media, because people are just cruel and nasty (and not in a fun way.).  She has to do this because I get involved in trying to share an opinion (and frankly, sometimes to correct misinformation) and we’ve seen what happens to those with different viewpoints. I’ve been horrified by the speed with which people are shamed on social media.  Sometimes the “offender” has made a simple mistake (like the person who typed “pubic relations” instead of “public relations,” on a government website.) It may be funny, but the way that commenters pounce, you’d swear that they had just copied Herod and ordered the death of all babies in the land.  (Incidentally, in the current climate, Herod would probably...

I spent a lovely day recently going through family albums.  I noticed that many of our photos, especially once photography became more accessible, revolved around meals and family gatherings.  With my friends too, our photos are often taken with food.  Obviously, then, food is an integral part of living.  We share meals with the people that we love, and it binds us together.  Everyone has a special dish that signifies home and comfort and love, everyone has a meal that means celebration.  We have rituals that accompany our meals — setting places; using a favourite plate; telling the story (again) of what Aunt so-and-so did on that dinner... There are people who spend a lot of effort trying to remove the fun from eating.  They don’t do it by simply decrying food; instead they turn food into an enemy.  They “reimagine” traditional foods; they add “twists” and they talk about “improving” items, making them “healthy”.  Because it’s not about re...

What are your stories?  Our stories are who we are, what we believe, our hopes and dreams.  They are our shared history, and our links with others.  Our stories outlive us, inspire us, comfort us and warn us. I was reflecting on the power of stories this week, and how we use them.  When a friend announced that she was pregnant with her first child, everyone there shared her experiences with childbirth.  At the engagement of another friend, we all talked about our own engagements, weddings and marriages.  And when someone introduced her new partner, we immediately related how we met our partners.  All our shared experiences. We comfort each other with tales of the lives of those we lost, of the difficulties we survived and of where we got inspiration.  When I was first diagnosed, one dear friend shared with me his mother’s case, telling me that she had survived 15 years (at that time) when she was expected to live maybe 4 months.  Another ...

I stepped into a time warp recently.  I was cleaning out some closets in my family home, and I uncovered things that I had put away and forgotten about.  I spent a very enjoyable (and dusty) day looking through old letters, cards, newspaper clippings and photos. Among the items was my first diary, started when I was 8 — it was a birthday present from my older sister — and I smiled while reading the entries.  It detailed my 8-year old life for a few months, then I got distracted... I found cards and letters from old friends, who are mostly still in my life.  And there were photos which I shared with some others and we all exclaimed at how young we were, and how life was so much easier.  I also unearthed some of my earlier writings, dating back to my early childhood.  There was a poem that I had written for a competition when I was 9.  I won a copy of Russian Fairy Tales in a beautiful illustrated book, which I reread many times.  (All those Ivan...

Irony is a wonderful thing, isn’t it?  So many people are walking, breathing, unaware examples! So, what brought this on?  Well, I was listening to people giving me their unwanted advice on my diet.  “You need to eat healthy!” (Because I obviously sit around sucking poison 24/7) and telling me to avoid meat, chocolate, alcohol, ice cream, rice, bread, potatoes, chicken, curry, fish... my interpretation is that they would prefer that I learn to eat by photosynthesis!  Anyway, these same “eat organic, gluten-free, peanut-free, exotic, all-natural, no fried food” pushers will then head off to a restaurant and inhale deep fried organic-free-range-gluten-free whatever. Or let’s take the question of equity.  For those of us privileged enough to form part of the majority, we can turn our backs on others and say things like, “That’s just the way it is.  Some things will never change!”  If we are gain acceptance into a previously closed group, all too often...

It’s been 19 years since I moved to Canada.  It’s been 19 years of living in a different country, with a different culture, different behaviours.  I’m happy that I moved — don’t misunderstand— and I was considering how I’ve changed in the time.  Growing up in Trinidad, there were several things that were core to me, although I might not always express them overtly. As a country, Trinidad and Tobago was always proud of being multi-ethnic and integrated.  Bishop Desmond Tutu once referred to it as being a “rainbow country.”  The blends of various ethnicities result in people in shades from deep blue-black to creamy white, with even siblings varying in their shades.  I was accustomed to dealing with people at all levels who would be referred to in Canada as “visible minorities.”  It is not, though, free from the evils of discrimination... I remember my grandmother talking about how she was looked down on for being a “dirty Indian” and that my aunts and ...

Martin Luther King day approaches for this year, and his famous “I have a dream” speech is played again.  I think that most people know this speech and its key tenets, ending with, “Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, free at last!”  It was over 50 years ago, in 1963, that he delivered this speech in Washington DC, capital of the USA.  And still, there are so many strains of inequality that are entwined in our society, and so many people who are blind to them.  The stereotypes are so deeply ingrained that they’re invisible to most people unless we make a conscious effort to identify and change them. But, I hear you ask, we’re in 2018.  Aren’t we past this whole nonsense?  Aren’t the people who keep on about divisions in society just creating problems?  I don’t see colour, just live and let live. My friend, I’m sad to report that racism — and its attendant ills of xenophobia, homophobia and misogyny— is still alive.  While things ar...

I was asked, as many people were, what I would like to see in the new year.  Being able to explain it simply was challenging... then I watched Doctor Who, and found the answer.  I’ve paraphrased to be more reflective of my thoughts, and I hope that this makes sense.  I also hope that it touches something in you, and that you find meaning. I would like, in the years ahead, if we can agree on some essential items: Be brave, and face the challenges of life.  Never be cowardly, especially when it’s easier. Understand that the important things in life are the intangibles.  We can always make more money, buy new things and replace what’s worn out.  We can’t buy time with loved ones or do-over events that have passed.   Hatred is always, always foolish and wrong.  Never act out of hate. Anger may be justified, but never make a decision while angry, especially one that affects others. Forgive those who hurt you, so that you can be free of negati...

It’s almost the end of 2017, and soon the news will be recaps of the past 12 months.  It’s also the time when Christmas newsletters arrive either by post (more rarely now) or online. This year has been another challenging one for me.  It’s not quite an annus horibilis , but it’s certainly not fun. In December last year, my doctor confirmed that the “something” that showed on my scans was a recurrence and spread of my cancer into 2 locations.  This year therefore started with radiation treatments, which were not as hard on me as the last time, but which certainly sapped my strength.  I went home to Trinidad in March and did some recuperating, and returned to work until June, when my doctor advised that I would have to stop working and focus on my health. I fought that ruling, arguing that there were some projects that were dear to me that I wanted to finish... and I lost that battle.  I started chemotherapy in June, and worked with therapists to help me cop...

This is not about cancer or illness.  It’s something else that is insidious, though. I was having lunch with some girlfriends recently, and we were pleasantly surprised to find how similar our teen years were despite the fact that we were all from countries thousands of miles apart with no obvious links.  We all grew up having crushes on rock stars; being obsessed with fashion and all specialized in science at school.  We also had moments when we were “different” from the rest of the crowd.  What we shared was the times when we were in groups where size — specifically weight and measurements — were the important things.  Sad, isn’t it, that women around the world are taught that their worth relates to their looks? It seems that women around the world all share moments of insecurity about our bodies.  It’s not made any easier when we’re going through sanctioned hatred.  One thing that is in common for all of us are “women’s” magazines, which feature...

In the past few weeks, I’ve been invited to at least 5 sessions on mindfulness.   That may be the universe trying to give me a message! As we’re starting the Advent season, the readings for each day focus on waiting, preparedness and the “end of days” — the end of the world.  It’s interesting, because this links to the concept of mindfulness in a meaningful way also. There are times when I slip into “what if...” and wonder how different life would be had I made other choices.  (Cue George Michael’s “ A Different Corner ” here!). There are people who spend most of their lives living in the past, full of regrets, bitterness, anger and disappointment.  But the past is fixed, closed and dead.  Nothing that we do will make the smallest change to what has happened, and we miss so much of what is happening if we spend our lives constantly reviewing the past. Then there are times when I think, “once I get to ,” that things will change drastically.  They don’t...

My mother once showed me one of her wedding presents; a set of smoke coloured glasses in about 6 sizes.  It lived in a cupboard, still wrapped in the original paper.  I asked her why she never used it, and she explained that shortly after she and my father were married, they had some friends over, and one glass was broken.  She decided that she would keep them all safe, and they were relegated to the cupboard.  After her death, when my siblings and I went through her stuff, they were there, unused and unenjoyed. In the last few months, I’ve started clearing out things that I haven’t used in more than a year, and there are, sadly, a lot of them.  I was able to part with some of my books by donating them to a Little Free Library , and comforting myself with the thought that they would be read and appreciated by others.  I’ve arranged an auction to dispose of some of my evening dresses, which I no longer wear, and which I couldn’t bear to put in the donation...

I was reading a book recently that talked about the “micro-losses” that we experience as we age.  It starts with giving up our infancy to become children and students — how often have we been told “You can’t do that any more, you’re a big girl now!” (Or, more accurately, how often have we said that to a child?). Then moving from school to university to work — we lose small things.  We gain others in exchange — because we are students, we go out and make friends, learn new things, compete, etc.  At work, we develop skills, we deepen friendships, we contribute to the development of our company and society.  We marry, we gain family... we have a period where we get more of what makes us human. We also develop the idea that independence is critical.  We want to remain independent, to be “not a burden”, to be self-reliant.  And this is a comforting lie that we tell ourselves.  When we’re born, we are dependent on others for everything, and often, at the o...

This is the second part of what happened in 2012 when I was first diagnosed. November 3, as I mentioned, was the meeting with the surgeon and then the anniversary lunch for the parents. The day is still surreal, as I got there determined to celebrate, but mentally stuck on “I need surgery. I may have cancer,” With the family, their instant response was to support. To divide tasks to make it easier for everyone. Sunday, there was nothing to do but wait for the world to restart, and therefore I had some limited time to think. I used it to plan what needed to be done and to reach out to friends. The early part of the week was spent in doing tests, arranging for blood donors, talking to the office and the insurance company.  As the 9th approached, there were tests to be done, scans to arrange, leave to be entered. I’m eternally grateful for my friends at the office, especially Sylvie, who made sure that I was looked after and that I just had to sign documents. They took care of t...

This time of year is very difficult for me.  It was this week in 2012 that my life changed irrevocably.  Every year since then, I find myself reliving this week almost hourly.  I think about the circumstances that led up to this week, and the subsequent activities.  Some of them are easier to handle than others. Back in 2012, I had a minor operation in May which should have meant 2 - 3 days off work.  Instead, I was off for over a week, and then had a persistent infection that had me on antibiotics for most of the summer.  I was tired frequently, and my energy was low.  Checks with my GP suggested that I would need additional tests, but I was diagnosed with malabsorption and put on a special diet to improve my iron, vitamin and other levels. In September, I had planned to visit my friends in Europe, but that was canceled because of a change in their circumstances.  So I thought that I would surprise my parents with a visit home for their 45th ...

I was clearing some closets recently and discovered that I have a veritable graveyard of old technology.  Starting with a Palm V (anyone remember those?) through a mini-laptop and external drives.  I also found a box of old drive cables, including a serial bus cable. I remember when each of these was new, and how excited I was to get them.  The Palm V was supposed to replace my paper diary (it didn’t, not completely) and keep me more organized.  I did use it for the scheduling functions, but it often ran out of power. I think I spent more time playing solitaire on it than tracking my activities. Then I had my MP3 player.  I opted against the iPod, because I had a Zen that provided everything the iPod did for much less.  I used it almost daily for over a year — I even upgraded it — and then it fell into disuse when I changed offices and lost access to the radio feature.  My mini-laptop was my choice over a tablet; it was smaller and lighter than a t...

The first time is special, isn’t it?  To be the one to, pardon the pun, enter virgin territory. The person who is first is special, unlike others, is remembered for this accomplishment. Then there’s a wash of other, lesser mortals who are forgotten and the special nature becomes ordinary. We’re still marking “firsts” even now. Some of them are breakthroughs in science and medicine - first targeted DNA treatments for cancer; first driverless cars; robotic surgery... marvellous innovation!  Some firsts are, well, sadly coming late. It’s 2017, and still we’re looking at first black, first Asian, first woman to be recognized.  We should have had all of those behind us years ago. It adds to the sadness when we actually enter debates about who is the best first. Earlier this year, Canada wanted to introduce a woman, other than the Queen, on the currency.  Debates about the selection raged, with critics saying that while Viola Desmond was worth honouring there were othe...

Channeling some Bob Marley today. I couldn’t avoid this one. I’ve been trying, but it got too big.  So much anger is being displayed against inclusion, and my brain is not coping well. In my opinion, equity is essential to society. There is no argument for denying access to people that makes sense.  We’ve used all kinds of excuses:  women are too emotional to be in business; nursing is not for a man; black people don’t have the capacity to be academic; Chinese are good for mining work, and so on.  As time passed, we’ve gradually realized that these are all very stupid, weak and disgusting excuses for protecting the privilege of a few. Sadly, humans are human, and we can justify anything using any argument.  We have used texts that speak of love to excuse horrible behaviour, and then used more of the texts to condone more atrocities.  We have a web of illusion that allows us to pretend that “others” do all the wrong and we are blameless, but if we’re h...

I was thinking about the core myths we use daily.  In my case, they include the belief that I am the master of my fate: that I can control the outcome of my life choices.  To a degree, that’s true.  If I decide to eat a salad, there are consequences to that choice.  In my case, it would mean a day or so of “digestive distress”, a polite way of saying that I’ll be unfit for human company! This served me well in many circumstances growing up. My determination (what some people called stubbornness) helped me through many difficulties and enabled me to achieve my goals. It has been such a central part of my psyche for so long that teenage me received a poster that commemorates it! Over the years, this pushed me out of my comfort zone to take on different roles, up to working on my communication style and changing some behaviours. Now, my willpower is not enough to get me through this.  I rely on it for a lot of strength, and it helps me to set goals, to plan and...

As everyone knows, I'm an avid and voracious reader.  I was rereading some of my old favourites -- this time Asimov and Clarke -- and I was struck by how much things have changed. Science fiction has gone through many iterations from the early days (Jules Verne and H.G. Wells spring to mind).  It's always been a place to explore humanity separated from "reality" (No, I won't go into a discussion of Star Trek here!  I'll save that for another time  🙂). Issues like racism, morality and politics are all addressed using aliens, unusual situations (end of the world, leaps through space...) But the thing that stuck out most in my latest reading was the role of women and societal mores. Asimov, Clarke, Heinlein and Silverberg wrote during the "golden age" of science fiction, at a time when there were few, if any, women leads.  In fact, most of the books featured no female characters.  If they did, they were either vapid housewives who were an inconven...