Port Hardy, BC
I completed an umdergraduate degree in 1991, including an 80 page thesis on organizational culture in Aboriginal organizations. Today a friend and I were talking about graduate school.
I feel no urge to do an MA or an MBA. My life is course work and this blog is my thesis. It’s vast, vast learning.
Today is Canada Day. I’ll be playing music at our little festival here on Bowen Island along with friends Julie Vik, Moritz Behm, Corbin Keep, Jessie Pinner and others. We have an all-Canadian set of tunes, from traditional east coast fiddle and flute tunes to Bachman Turner Overdrive with a bit of Spirit of the West, Bruce Cockburn, Stan Rogers and the McGarriagle Sisters thrown in for good measure. Bunch of original songs as well.
It aims to be fun. If you’re on or near our little island come on over for the day. If not, visit Webjay and stream my playlist of beautiful Canadian songs from little known artists.
Thank God.
After a year of fractious Parliamentary behaviour, scandal and something like ten non-confidence motions, Parliament finally passed Bill C-38 and gay marriage is finally legal nationwide in Canada.
Of course it has been legal for two years now in what has become seven provinces and one territory. That inevitability however did not seem to dissuade the opposition. The opponents of gay marriage continually made the point that legalizing the same would result in a denial of rights for straight marriages. No one, not my MP John Reynolds nor anyone I ever asked about this could point out how this works. Nor could they suggest why continuing to deny equal rights to gay and lesbian Canadians on these grounds was somehow a principled defense of equality for those who already had those rights.
And then, as the above linked NY Times article notes, Stephen Harper, the opposition leader made the argument that legislation supported by the Bloc Quebecois was somehow illegitimate less than two months after he did a deal with the Bloc to try to defeat the government on a confidence motion, a motion which lost by one vote. Harper has promised to revisit the legislation if he ever becomes prime minister. Knowing that he would do that, try to overturn a law that affirms a constitutional right, is reason enough to ensure that he never forms a government.
I find politics to be a field scarce in constructive ideas and collaboration, which is why I so rarely comment on politics in this weblog. However, in the face of the partisan screaming and moaning of the past year, it is heartening to see this Parliament finally pass a motion on something positive and forward looking. I congratulate all who voted for the bill, and the rest of you who, like me, tried to convince your MP to do the same.
An integral look at the world has us noticing both the external nature of things and the corresponding interiors. Ken Wilber says this repeatedly and with much hubris. Henry David Thoreau says it better:
There are meteorologists, but who keeps a record of the fairer sunsets? While men are recording the direction of the wind, they neglect to record the beauty of the sunset or the rainbow.
From Through The Prism of Human Collectivity by Huck Gutman:
“As I walked, I passed a dry cleaner�s shop. At its front, immediately behind a large plate glass window, was a man ironing a shirt. I stopped and watched…He ironed, and I watched. And watched. He ironed one shirt, then a second. There was a defined progression for each shirt. First, he sprayed the shirt lightly with water to dampen it. Then, as he ironed each successive portion of the shirt he sprayed on a light dose of starch to make the fabric stiffer. He proceeded to iron the collar, then carefully laid out each sleeve and ironed them, one at a time. Then he starched and ironed one half of the shirt, placed flat on his white-cotton clad ironing table. When he was done, he lightly touched the iron to the middle of the collar at the back of the neck � just a small crease so it would fold properly. He hung the shirt on a hanger, and proceeded to the next.
I, an amateur, iron quickly. He, a professional, did not. He took care, making certain that each sweep of the iron made a flat expanse of brilliant white fabric.
As I watched him, I realized I was receiving instruction in how to iron properly. The man in the window was of early middle age, seemingly of Central American background. He was totally focused on his work. (Only when I left, and bowed my head slightly in dual acknowledgement of his excellence and my gratefulness at being allowed to watch him, did he indicate by a small smile and a brief nod of his head that he had been aware of my presence.)
So that was it, my �spot of time,� my peak experience. A moment � 15 minutes, actually � of observing menial work in the modern city. Only the work was not menial, even though its status, and no doubt the ironer�s pay, were low. The man I watched took great care with what he did, and seemed in a quiet and unobtrusive way to be proud that he ironed shirts well. Would a customer have noticed if he ironed more quickly, and the shirt were not as perfect as he strove to make it? I doubt it. But the man who ironed worked to a different standard. If his labor was worth doing, it was worth doing well.
Huckman goes on to quote Wallace Stevens and Pablo Neruda in noticing the pride of work and care in the busyness and chaos of cities.