Life As performance Art 11

It's been a gentle re-entry into my work, since returning from Monteverde. I have had more than the average number of client cancellations, all of which I still get paid for. I am still short on hours, but I have managed to save a lot over the last year and from my travel expenses in order to invest in my living expenses for the next few weeks while my bank balance has time to regenerate. I am taking advantage of this quiet time to walk more, work more on art and writing projects, for prayer and reflective thought. I am also surprised, pleasantly, how unscathed I seem to be from this past difficult week. There have been none, so far absolutely none, of the usual PTSD red flags and I am beginning to believe that I am experiencing a full recovery, though I do remain vigilant. Life has many ways of pulling an ambush, and I am too old and wise now not to know this. I am sleeping well. Better, actually. Eating well, maybe a little too well. I am getting out every day to walk and enjoy the fresh air. I am seeing people, in touch with friends. I am doing lots of good art. Writing too, as you are currently reading, Gentle Reader. No depression, no sadness and doing well as I return to work. And thanks to my Skype friend in Colombia, I still get to speak tons of Spanish twice a week while helping him with English. We are having here rather a chilly and rainy April, but so full of flowers and new leaves and birdsong. I am glad to be home, though I still think daily of Monteverde and the people I know there. Even though I feel well, it is premature to say that I'm well, hence this desire to take full advantage of every opportunity to rest and enjoy life. I am listening rather too much to CBC, and right now they are interviewing a particularly odious professional pothead known to be a spoiled whiner prone to little meltdowns when he doesn't get his way, and this all has to do with the coming 4-20 pot protest that occurs every April 20. I will not dignify the event with further comment. Coming back to noise is always an issue. The elephant upstairs was rampaging across my ceiling on the weekend. I suspect she goes through manic episodes. The police, fire and ambulance sirens are every bit as intolerable. The drugged out knuckle draggers in the building, Granville Residence, next door, are still making earplugs a necessity. and there are the chronic coughers. It is a sad irony that most of the people who still smoke are those who can least afford to buy cigarettes and their incessant coughing can be maddening, whether from across the hall or from Granville Residence, I also needed earplugs in Costa Rica. Hotel walls are often thin and other guests can be insensitive morons, and often are. So, it isn't that bad. I am still having a fairly good time.

Life As Performance Art 10

It feels longer than just ten days or so since my return from Monteverde and Costa Rica. Much longer. It is as though I was never there. Being away was like a dream. I wonder why. I just read a blogpost from my visit, and it all seemed very concrete and down to earth. Getting home hasn't been easy. I have been through quite an obstacle course since leaving Monteverde: a bus driver who threatened to steal my luggage; rude customs interrogators in Toronto and a nearly missed flight home to Vancouver; a testosterone addled jock in the seat behind me on the flight to Vancouver who kept jabbing my back with his fingers on the touch screen and his knees getting driven into my lower back; coming home to a a toilet that still hadn't been fixed during the month of my absence, even after I had previously notified the building managers three times before leaving on my trip; paintings being left in disarray upon opening the door to my apartment (there was a flood in my building during my absence, workers needed to check the damage and, even though managers had my email contact, no one notified me about it) news that Telus was still nagging me for a payment I was sure I had already given them, only to learn that the money had been diverted to Canada Revenue and so I spent my first full day back straightening out that mess between Telus, my bank and Canada Revenue; and negotiating the end of a friendship that had gone very bitter. I have also needed to get back to work right away, because, even though some of you don't seem to know this, some of us have to work in order to survive. I have received an apology from the bus company in Costa Rica for the shabby treatment from the driver, and my friend in Monteverde and I are in regular contact. I have finally recovered from my travel fatigue, and this usually does take a week and a couple of days. I am sleeping fairly well, eating well, enjoying long walks and visits with friends. I am also trying not to complain too bitterly about the cold temperatures and rain, given that we're in mid_ April and one would hope that the city is going to feel like spring, but at least it looks like spring and everywhere is full of flowers and new leaves. Could things be better? Things could always be better. Could things be worse? Things could always be worse. Am I happy? Ridiculous question. I'm almost always happy, except for the occasional depression. Do I miss Monteverde? I always and I always will miss Monteverde, even while I am in Monteverde. Am I glad to be home? Very glad. But now, I also live in Monteverde, even if it does feel like a dream, and this is because Monteverde is always going to live in me. The people who live there, their style of Spanish, their warmth and friendliness, their pride in their land and community and their humility as persons; the natural splendour will always live in me: the huge trees, the birdsong, the wind, the vines, flowers, leaves and moss and ferns, the cloud forest, the butterflies, especially the morphos, birds and especially the hummingbirds, the armadillos, the agoutis, the coatis and the monkeys; the amazing views, the rainbows and the killer hills to climb. I expect to return there next year, but not to live, because I live in Vancouver first, and second in Monteverde, and perhaps eventually also in Colombia and in Mexico. I do also miss speaking Spanish every day and all day, but even here in Vancouver there are ways of staying fluent. Today, I am going to work, which I have also missed while away. But not too much!

Life As Performance Art 9

I am not needy. Nor do I lack friends. So, my reasons for writing in the last couple of posts about the inability of most people to secure or value close and lasting friendships has nothing to do with me personally. This is merely a social observation and it is meant only to be interpreted as a social observation. Nothing else. So, if you have read the last couple of posts, Gentle Reader, then I will thank you to stick your personal judgments of my character up where the sun don't shine. I have lost more friends than I could begin to number on this page. Many through death, others for having simply disappeared, some have abruptly and at times violently ended our friendship because of a stubborn refusal to reasonably discuss things and seek paths of reconciliation, and many have always had the same useless, lame excuse of being too busy. I really believe that we can do better and that we need to do better than this. But it also seems that outside of our own families, and outside of the people they are having sex with, most people have a very limited attention span, and this strikes me as shallow, selfish and pathetic. It is reptilian brain in overdrive. Or am I the only person on the face of this earth who has ethical values? I am really beginning to think so. I even wonder if I'm just wasting my time staying open to others, in my desire to reflect Christ, since I always end up casting the same pearls before the same swine and I am really getting fatigued from all this. I have had the opportunity to know some wonderful people. Others, not so much, I'm afraid. It also depends, I think, on the venues for meeting people. For example, I have met a lot of people from Latin American countries and from Spain, thanks to the Conversation Exchange Page, but most of those people want to learn or improve their English for business and professional advantages. They are going to be competitive, greedy and amoral little capitalists, for the most part, usually lacking a moral compass and it goes without saying that people of that ilk make the worst possible friends, so then, is it any wonder that I have been constantly disappointed by those little wankers, since they are simply life supports for a reptilian brain? There have been a couple of notable exceptions, but they are people very hard to find anywhere. Most people are selfish little consumers, out only for themselves and no one else, and at least I am learning to quickly identify and distance myself from those idiots. Sometimes, I can't wait for climate change disaster to so overwhelm us that we are going to be forced into working and living cooperatively if we don't want to perish. And hopefully, by that time, natural selection will have already wiped out all the selfish idiots.

Life As Performance Art 8

We all have a strong tendency of treating people like commodities. I actually called a language partner from Madrid on this. In his marketing attempts he wrote a spiel that he ran by me for my approval. Since English was not his first language, of course I would look for casual errors and misappropriations, but what really got me was the way he referred to people as commodities. I called him out on this, explaining that commondities in English is used not for people but for merchandise, unless you are intending to refer to other people as merchandise. He took real offence, and apparently, referring to people as merchandise was exactly what he had in mind, without even the slightest tincture of irony. He got even more hostile when I tried to address him around his evident lack of ethics. That, by the way, was our final coffee visit, and we were both glad to see the end of this friendship, however brief. I think there are many reasons for our treating one another as objects. Capitalism has set a particularly dangerous precedent in the way that people relate to each other. We have been so corrupted by commodification that we tend to treat relationships as conusmer transactions. No longer interested in forming lasting relationships with persons, we appear to have no interest in other people as human beings. It is all about exploiting their utility to us. It all becomes a matter of what we can get out of them. We have transferred consumerism into our human relationships. My psychiatrist was especially bad for having this kind of attitude. When he didn't seem to like my choice of friends, he would ask me about what I could possibly be getting from the friendship. He meant well. But I am a Christian, and my choice of friends has little or nothing to do with utility, and all to do with the fact that I like them, that I even love them, and what I get out of then has nothing to do with it. It is really hard to convey this kind of thinking to a lot of people, because most of us have really lost our ethical moorings. We tend to see others in terms of their utility or entertainment value, or of what they can do for us, and I am frankly sick of this. When I recently heard again that claptrap about friendships having a shelflife and people going in different directions I just found myself gagging, because this comes across as really selfish. I tend to see friendship as a life commitment (for me, anyway), and for this reason, I have been rejected, ghosted or tossed aside over and over again because no one seems to share these values with me. It's like we have become a ravenous mob of greedy vampiritic zombies, or life supports for an appetite. This isn't to say that problems don't occur in friendships, and that people can really make life difficult for others, especially when they don't come clean about their bad behaviour (you know who you are, Gentle Reader!), and this can necessitate negotiations and time outs. But to erase someone from your life because you're tired of them, because they no longer do anything for you, because they're bored with you, or as in my case they are tired of having their poor ethics beingconstantly challenged, or because they have found other friends and interests? That kind of thinking, for me anyway, I have always found unconscienable. I have only ended friendships because of abuse or safety concerns. I know, it isn't the same as marriage, but really, marriage itself has become so user friendly, that no one seems to expect anymore to stay hitched for life. It takes two, I suppose. If I wasn't already so isolated, then maybe this wouldn't be important to me, but wait a minute. Even when I was in full contact with my family, I still felt this way about friendship. This doesn't mean that people have to always do things together. But whatever happened to loyalty? To actually caring for others in the longterm? This is a reflection of how we see community, and this is a sad reflection indeed, because without stable longterm relationships, not necessarily of a conjugal nature, there ain't going to be no community, and we will each be just staggering arouind in our empty selfish little hells, like perpetual bedbugs looking for the next host to suck blood out of.

Life as Performance Art 7

Jesus is quoted as having said "Because iniquity shall abound, the love of many will grow cold." This is such an indicator of the times we are living in. I have just been through the dissolution of yet another friendship. I mentioned this earlier this week and I will copy here some of my final letter to my friend, disguising any revealing details: "I have these final things to say to you... I accept that friendship between us, for you, was likely never an option. Perhaps because I am much older than you, maybe also because of the humble circumstances of my life, maybe also because we come from very different social classes and our perspectives and values are in many ways different, in some ways opposite. This has been difficult for me, but as you began to distance yourself and became gradually less available I realized that it was time to let go of our friendship. Here are some of the clues that all was not right with us as friends. First of all, you would sometimes speak to me in a rude and derisive tone, which is really a kind of verbal and emotional abuse. I don't know if that is acceptable where you come from. Here in Canada it is considered a form of bullying, and this has really hurt me. Also, it is profoundly disrespectful, especially given that I am old enough to be your father. When you are ready to come clean about this with me, I will welcome you again as a friend, if you are willing, but this has caused a lot of harm between us. I have already given you an example of this. You have denied it, which simply makes it worse for me. I do not accept your version of yourself, as your actions seem to reveal rather a different person from the one you claimed to be. This isn't to say that you're all bad. You have at times been a very good and, I think, compassionate, listener, and I think for a while you were interested in understanding better some of the issues that concern me. There have been other signs that I found concerning. Any time I would invite you to my home, or to meet some of my friends, you would refuse or make an excuse not to. You also showed no interest in introducing me to any of your family, nor to your friends. It appeared that you found me an embarrassment and that you didn't want to have to explain me to anyone. Neither did you want to invite me to visit you in your home, even though I did give you housewarming gifts, and you did mention that you did intend to have visitors. I guess you didn't consider me worthy. When I wrote in my email to you the words "Whatever. Peace" it was not to insult you but it was an expression of resignation after not hearing from you, and a kind of acceptance that you were likely ending our friendship. As I have already mentioned I was also in the midst of a profound depression (and you did nothing to check in to see how I was doing), partly fueled by the loss of your friendship, though there were other factors at play. I am still puzzled that you would find those words offensive. I was merely giving my consent to ending our friendship, since that's what you clearly were wanting. I could go on and write more, but I think this covers all the areas of concern. Unfortunately we can't sort any of this out, because you don't appear to be willing. If you ever change your mind, and decide that you want a constructive and respectful dialogue with me, then you are most welcome to get in touch and we'll see what we can do. I cannot unsay or unwrite anything here because this is the truth of how I have experienced knowing you. I do hope that in the future we can reconcile. I don't burn bridges. Till then... Goodbye." I guesss it's partly because all my family is gone, and so many poeple have rejected me or walked out on me or ghosted me, but I do not feel very safe around people these days. I was also severely burned by another friend last summer, who inappropriately commented on my blog, and it is still a struggle for me to restore trust between us. I am really fatigued with people turning on me, often for no clear reason, except that perhaps they are bored, furstrated and unhappy with their lives, and looking for a scapegoat on whom to vent their fury and I often end up being picked as the scapegoat, I think because I am so vulnerable, and because I try to be kind and welcoming to others, no matter what, so i'm an easy target, I guess. We are all so broken and wounded, and living in very uncertain and dangerous times. It doesn't help that friendships have become so user friendly and uncertain. I really want something more stable with people, but almost no one seems interested. I really hope I can become the change that I am seeking in this world. If only some other poeple would come on board with me and not walk away when things get boring or uncomfortable, instead of trying to work at and build community with me, with others. Anyone willing? Anyone out there?

Life As Performance Art 6

The older I get, the harder it is to take anything seriously. I have long lost familiarity with the names of trending film and TV and music stars, for the simple reason that I simply no longer could be bothered. I do see the occasional film, usually on a flight, sometimes on YouTube, but going out to a cinema? Too expensive, too late, and too may idiots. Except for two brief years in my twenties, I have never had TV at home. I read books instead. Trends of course always are changing, but the underlying human needs and cravings remain virtually unchanged. We are still largely idiots, even if somewhat better informed and more educated idiots, we remain nonetheless idiots. Cynical? Not really. This is more acceptance. I am just worn-out and fatigued from participating in the race and now I have opted out. Ageing is exhausting enough without having to obsess with keeping up with the times. I would rather focus on things, activities, and people that I enjoy, than look or sound or dress au courant. A coffee visit or walk with a friend is all the socializing I need. Walking in quiet nature, preferably away from jogging idiots and moronic two wheeled ablists, is my favourite recreation. I don't need to spend money in order to have a good time, even if it's a fairly good time. I don't even need to have a good time. I am alive and in reasonably good health. That for me is, at the very least, having a fairly good time. Even when I was young and in my twenties I could never quite relate to the frantic obsessions of my peers with partying, drinking, using illegal drugs and fornicating like random bunnies. I suppose this could be blamed on my Christian faith, but it isn't a matter of blame. Having a spiritual centre in Christ has been enough to satisfy those needs, hungers and cravings that drive a lot of especially younger people into wild and self-destructive behaviours, even if it's all under the label of going out for a good time. Even when I found myself in those situations, I always felt like an awkward visitor. I simply did not have the same need, the same emptiness of soul as was driving so many of my peers, and goes on driving generation after generation of spiritually and morally unmoored young people. Neither have I any desire to morph into a cool geezer who can't stay out of the discos. I really cannot fathom this obsession with noise that so many people seem to have. For example, trendy restaurants where they crank up the music and you have to strain your vocal chords and wreck your eardrums in order to have a conversation. For me, give me silence, give me the quiet places, interior and exterior. I am quite happy to take a seat up in the balcony, or in the nosebleed section, while the rest of you knock out your poorly used brains on the dance floor.

Life As Performance Art 5

People take themselves very seriously, and everything else too. You would think that the world was about to end. But maybe it is about to end. The prognosis of accelerating climate change due to human activity is anything but promising. But, aside from the scientific models, which are generally pretty accurate, we aren't there yet, so we can't know for sure how it's all going to look. I'm still optimistic, but maybe foolishly so. I always like to to believe that there is going to be a day after. I might not know, or approve, of how it is going to look, but there is another day following this one, and we are going to be facing new challenges, new difficulties, and possibly even new opportunities. There is one particularly menacing spectre awaiting us, and this is the possibility of hundreds of millions, perhaps even billions, of human deaths over the next generation or two, if galloping climate change isn't somehow halted. Not to mention species' extinctions, which is to say that this is getting only worse, and that this is the sixth great species extinction since when the earth was a formless void. So, then, how dare I not take any of this seriously. But I do. I simply don't think about it all the time. For one thing, we are all in uncharted territory, for which reason, we still don't know exactly what is going to happen. I have had in the course of my life a lot of contact with death and other catastrophe. As much as I might enjoy the relative stability of my life over the last fifteen years or so, I know that this is not to be taken for granted. It could all be swept from under my feet, in the twinkling of an eye, and then what? I would still go on. There is no other option. I could wind up in prison, should our human rights protections erode significantly, and given my inability of keeping my mouth shut, or I could wind up in intensive care from an accident, or gravely ill, or homeless, should our governments further renege on their promises to the most vulnerable members of society. Or, and more likely, none of those things will happen, and I have only to look forward to a comfortable retirement in two years, and then what? There are no guarantees in life, only variables. What I am left with is a huge sense of gratitude, for what I already have, for what I have had in the past, and for this future all unknown. For this reason, I often feel sorry for those who have no religious faith. There is in their lives no sense or cause for gratitude, because they do not see that God has done all these things for them, and that it is God himself who sustains and nurtures us, and gratitude, as we all know, is the source of all joy in our lives.