Anti authoritarian, bitchy and whining

I’m feeling guilty because I don’t like my immature negative anti authoritarian self. I’m bitchy and whiny. I am filled with self pity. I get angry. I’m judgemental. I have these character flaws and they spill over mostly in terrible generalizations against government and law courts and burocracy. Meanwhile I know that the vast majority of people are mostly good. I know that if the government, judges and bureaurcrats were poor and powerless I’d not malign them. It’s envy and immaturity that drives this terrible tendency within me.

Yes I’ve been hurt. Yes I’ve been falsely accused and abused and individuals in authority have been corrupt and ignorant and frankly the worst wankers, evil individuals.  But that in no way justifies my tendency to lump them together and do no better in return.  

My aunt said, « if you don’t have anything good to say about a person it’s best to be silent. ‘ When she died we all commented at the funeral on my saintly Aunt’s not having maligned anyone that we knew. She was a Christian and believed judgement was the lord. She was also one of the most gentle sophisticated well mannered people I knew.

I won’t be remembered as such.

I do apologize for all those generalizations and ill considered remarks. I’m especially mean to bureaucrats and administration in health care which is totally unfair as the majority, really, the majority I’ve known have been great. So because a very few have been the genetic errors doesn’t justify my disparagement of the group.  Just because you believe in Climate Change or belong to the Liberal Party of Canada doesn’t mean you need supervised visits with children. 

 There are some people I would say shouldn’t be left alone with farm animals but that is unfair to say this of whole groups of people.  I once belonged to the Liberal Party of Canada and indeed spoke highly of Pierre Trudeau when I was so young and stupid politically that I didn’t appreciate the wisdom of my parents who had great disdain for the communist who was intent on ruining the Canada they loved. I have Liberal friends and they really are great people. Admittedly I prefer the company of the convention stereotypically stigmatized in general but it’s unfair to suggest people who belong to a political party shouldn’t be allowed to drive trucks.

There is a need for tolerance.  Just because a person is pedophile doesn’t mean he can’t drive a truck. He just needs to be kept away from children.  

I am sorry that I am so ascerbic and think that I am witty when I am just being ignorant and mean spirited. Dressing negativity up in clean clothes doesn’t make it less dirty.  I criticize PC as the ‘false belief you can pick up a tourd by the clean end’ but then I go off doing the same thing in the opposite direction.

I’m sorry. It’s not enough to say one is sorry. It requires change in action.  I admit wrong but I don’t know how successful I will be in changing my own intolerance and malicious wit.  The first step is admission of fault.  Now I’m attempt to move forward.  

I believe spirituality is perception.  I need to build my friends up more than tear down my enemies.  CJOB had a morning radio show my parents listened to in the home each morning when I was growing up. It was called ‘Beefs and Bouguets. ». I need to focus more on the bouquet.  Everyone can be bitter and critical.  We need more people to be positive.

I have to look for the positive. I have to focus on an Attitude of Gratitude. 

I know I give myself this this little talk every few months and say ‘some are sicker than others’. I view those who appear ‘evil’ as sick but still I’m not as kind to the sick as I could be and should be.  

I had a great walk with Gilbert today. I just finished reading Katherine’s Diary, a fascinating Australian auto biography of an early famousTransgendered person, a College Librarian who’d served in the Navy and HD 3 children and 24 years of fairly positive marriage before transitioning. 

 I roasted Ethiopian Coffee, had some cups. Had a whole lot planned to do and believe there are things that ‘need’ to be done. I’d intended to go out and do some visits and there was shopping to do but instead I lay on the couch reading, walked Gilbert and read. Exercised and meditated. Journaled and read. .  I love days when I read and drink coffee and literally escape into one of my favourite past times.

I worked last week. My cough has all but subsided. I’ve continued to take care of business, catching up and doing the next right thing.. It’s been a stress getting back into the swing of things after being away. I’m prepared for Christmas. 

I loved being out with the Doc Side crew. Loved Dr. Horvath taking us all out for dinner at the Moxie. I loved talking to Robert. I loved seeing David. It was great to see Jerry, Judith and Mary Lou and meet agin our newest addition. ? Jazz. Dr. Horvath is a mensch.  

I loved today not driving. I loved not facing traffic. I had thought all afternoon about taking out my motorcycle but I enjoyed the warm and the coffee, my own washroom, my own little monks cell. Gilbert Enjoyed  having me toss the ball for him.  I shaved and showered and even intended to go swimming. I have errands and tasks to do but it all got set aside as I enjoyed the day alone and in comfort so grateful for this reprieve.  Thank you. 

I prayed and meditated considering the nature of this universe, the names of God, my place in. As Bernie would say « Holy Pirit Come ».

Plane flights, Canadians, Envy and Ingratitude

There are some 8 billion people on the planet today.  7 billion are doing pretty well.  Apparently only a few hundred million are faced with daily uncertainty about food and life. The majority of us should be very thankful.  Never before have so many people lived in such security and well being for so long.  Only a hundred or two years ago there were relatively few people and most lived rather short lives in far worse conditions.
I loved learning that people thought at the time of Columbus, 1492, that Europe was overpopulated.  The scientific revolution,  advances in agriculture, scale and even politics have lead to quite miraculous possibilities. The potential  today for people as a whole and the planet in particular were unimaginable a generation or two ago.
Ownership of a bicycle alone can be critical to success in the Third World.  Such a simple piece of technology transforms the impoverished to relative wealth by extending their household ‘import/export’ radius.  In 1987 I  learned of the revolution in transport and what it meant to civilization when I watched the Checkoslovakian Pavillion panoramic movie exhibit at the World Exhibition in Vancouver Canada.  Recently this has been reviewed.   Ownership of a car alone moves a person from the lower classes to the middle classes.  The intermediary ‘stage’ between bicycle and car ownership was the ability to ‘rent’ a seat on a bus or car.  Indeed those who had even travelled by motorized vehicles were superior in wealth and education to others.  Some 7 billion had had access to bicycle and half that to cars and car ownership.  A billion or more had flown while only millions or less had relative ownership of plane transport.
Amazing! I’m like so many in the first world.  Ungrateful.  Here I am flying yet again, for the countless time, irritated that tele transportation hasn’t arrived to reduce my frustration with the minimal lineups and security checks.
My parents were wealthy by world standards. They owned a car and a truck.  We travelled back and forth across Canada as a family by train. My father who had been in the Royal Canadian Air Force made sure his sons had their first flight in the back seat of a Cub before they were even teens.  I remember complaining in the back seat of that Piper Cub that my brother sitting next to me had a ‘better’ seat.   Envy is a close second to Ingratitude among the rich and civilized.  I’ve met many who I went to school with and they actually complain that they were ‘poor’.  Some were definitely richer.  But the whole neighbourhood I grew up in was rich in peace and stability and education. Parents had autos and kids had bicycles.
By my twenties I was taking jet trips across Canada to visit family. In my early 20’s I’d even fly from Canada across the Atlantic.  I bought a  bicycle there and bicycled Europe and  bused  in Morocco, Northern Africa.  
Buckminister Fuller, the American genius,  invented of the Geodesic Dome.  I had seen this in 1967 at America's World Fair exhibit in Montreal.  The Russian Sputnik was there.  I grew up watching Star Trek on television. I witnessed the NASA space flights, the moon landing and the Soviet Space Station missions.  Now I take my iPhone GPS app essentially for granted..
I was a fly - in doctor in Northern Canada using De Havilland Beaver Bush Planes and Cessnas as my weekly taxi service.  Often I’d fly in a DC3 the great workhorse plane of WWII as well.  Naturally I just did these things. Didn’t everyone? I’m still a little surprised when I meet someone who hasn’t flown in a plane, especially if I’m in Canada.
We take so much for granted.  I so commonly live in pursuit of my next dream.  I’m fixated on the future with memories more often of failures and resentments than the honest recollection of the amazing successes I’ve known,  the extraordinary life so many Canadians have available to them..
I loved that Bill Gates, the American billionaire philanthropist, stated that his greatest fortune was being born in the Pacific Northwest.
Naturally I was equally blessed to be born in Canada to the parents I had with the incredibly brilliant older brother.  I grew up in a suburb by the university.  It was normal for my classmates to mostly want to go to university.  We were middle class by Canadian standards but by world standards privileged upper class in deed. I’m often amused that Canadian ’standards of poverty’ would be considered luxury in some of the countries and regions I’ve visited and worked.  My ‘homeless’ patients complain about the ’shelters’ they live in and the amazing meals that charity provides. When I’ve volunteered at church kitchens I’ve been glad to later eat the meals I was dishing out. Better than I often eat.  The ’shelters’ are lacking by Canadian standards but I’ve been where 20 people shared a room smaller than the bachelor I had for myself in medical school.  
Canadians as a class are the worst complainers.  It’s the consumer society for sure.  Television.  Greed. Envy.  The search for something outside to fullfil the inner lacking. The loss of community. The spiritual bankruptcy.  There’s never enough.
I’m driving a glorious Mazda Miata M5 sportscar. I love this car. It’s utterly perfect for me and the fulfillment of a lifetime of longing.  It’s the MG I couldn’t afford as a young medical student bought by the old man in his 60’s.  The television and internet ever shows me  more expensive sports cars. There’s a Corvette, a Porche, and a Aston Martin in the parking lot where I work.  There are Honda Civics there too but who looks at those.   By education, I’m in the top 1% of the world. The woman owning one of the faster more expensive cars I know is academically stupid by comparison.  She was ’smart’ in marriage.  I don’t compare myself to her by any more than her car . I am more likely to compare myself educationally with the fellow who is higher on the rung than me.  Indeed I feel stupid compared to my younger colleague, a behavioural neurologist. I don’t even know what car he drives.  I doubt he cares. Yet I know the other man who owns the richest fastest car in the parking lot is much older than me. He envies me my youth.
We all fly. We all talk about our trips across the country or overseas. Lots of friends fly to Vegas or Mexico without thinking it’s anything to write home about. They skip the air fliight and focus their sharing on the beach, museums or exotic restaurants.   I share in passing which countries I’ve been too. We compare the long lists we’ve ‘collected’ . Country comparing is a bit like  we compared the ’sports cards’ we collected as boys.
We haven’t a clue really about the Impoverished lives of others who grew up in crowded hungry homes not even fortunate enough to share a bicycle.
I just believe it’s hard for people who have flown to another country for vacation to realize that by world standards that makes them at very least upper middle class, especially if they’ve also ever owned a car.  Most all of the Canadians I know are ‘upper class’ by world standards. They don’t know it.  They’re too busy complaining.
Perhaps it’s this election year with it’s constant hyperbole and hypocrisy.  I can’t help but hear the song, “You don’t have to dress like a refugee!” going round in my head whenever I listen to the professional ‘victims’ .  CBC news is always there to help them hawk their wares. . They’re like the Canadian “beggars" who stand beside the street with dogs and Starbucks coffees ($5) and signs ‘begging’ for food.  I work in the the Downtown East Side of Vancouver.  The amount of food available for the poor at times appears like it would feed a small country.  The food waste in the cities of Canada could feed a nation.   Daily we disparage our lot and complain of our declining wages and increases costs.  It’s true. Inflation is a bitch. I once wrote a lament for the billionaire who had to come home and tell his wife they were millionaires because he’d lost their fortune in the recent deflation.
I don’t drive a Corvette.  My friend drives a BMW. She doesn’t eat out in restaurants. Everyone in Canada makes choices.  We have a potpourri of choices.  Even the immigrants who complain of not finding work in Vancouver or Toronto refuse to consider working in the north where Canadians such as myself did long  and cold harsh service.  When we moved south we  found there was no affordable housing.  Foreign speculators had stolen our heritage.   But owning a house is a ‘luxury’ for most in the world especially  those wanting a house in ‘prime’ locations.  I  simply can’t afford it and still have choice. My friends have become indentured servants (slaves) to their mortgages, praying their ‘investments’ hold.
When Canadians complain ad infinitum about their government, wanting to get rich quick and have Hollywood success,  I remember that most people’s success I know is tied to family. It’s especially a product of discipline and hard  long work.  Half my medical school class were the children of doctors.  So many of my friends, second and third generation immigrant, are a product of the sacrifice of the parents and  their deep sustaining family values. We only bought my first car at 25 years of age. I couldn’t afford it alone.  I didn’t buy my first ’new’ car till I was a doctor in my 30’s.
I spent altogether 24 years in education all the while having jobs to maintain my educational pursuit.  My first job at 12 was shovelling snow. My payment was 50 cents. I was doing well when I made a dollar an hour which was better than delivering papers which my friends did at the same age. Baby sitting was 50 cents an hour and poor pay for the difficulties containing the little beasts till their parents return.  Cutting lawns for an hour at 50 cents to a dollar was good child wage when minimum wage was $5/hour.
So I’m flying again across Canada. This will be bout the 10th time I’m accompanied by my Cockapoo Gilbert.  He’s a a  "Jet Cockapoo." Not a "jet setter". Even our dogs are rich by any standards.  Regardless of who has lead this country of Canada we’ve been a rich nation.  We’ll continue to be wealthy for  a good time to come thanks to our natural resources and the competence and diversity of Canadians.
I just wish I had more gratitude and less envy.  Ingratitude and envy are so intrinsically Canadian.  We take so much for granted.  People talk about Canadians as polite.  But mostly we’re envious and ungrateful.  We love to disparage Americans too.
I want to celebrate my country, celebrate this life and all the wonders and blessings I’ve known thanks in most part simply because I had the good fortune to be born in Canada.  It takes another plane flight to remind me that those who have been blessed to be able to have flown are the annointed, the blessed, the privileged, the success stories.
I know it’s not the space shuttle.  I don’t even own the plane.  But I’m a Canadian.  Poor me.

Wednesday Morning Journal

I’m feeling a failure.  It’s something that comes over me in waves.  I’ve got this aging thing happening. Like I’ve had my time and blown it. There were so many dreams and they’ve gone past. The first was family. The decisions and abortions took those. The glass is half empty. I had this belief that I’d save the world in some way in medicine, make things better. I was a cog in the machine. I served my time. I did my part in a thousand little ways but I was plagued by the complaint that always comes to those who want to change something. The reformer is the enemy of all who benefit from the status quo.  The corruption and deceit in the system is putrid to the max and yet others move along stepping around the cesspools. I waded right in and began with a bucket to no avail.  There’s a cesspool swamp in every system. I learned that too late. I look back on years of frustration. There was always this really scummy dirty ignorant person in a position of leadership.  They were killing people and I couldn’t stop them because there was always someone holding me back.  Mostly that was to save my life. The amount of money in killing is amazing. Healing gets a fraction. The big boys and big girls dish out death like it was a fashion designer item.
Spirituality teaches me to look for the positive. Use both hands and pull my head out of my ass. Look back on your life and see the successes.  You’re still alive. Others have died. You’ve been in multiple crashes and walked away. Others are missing limbs. You’ve known incredible stress especially dealing with the corruption of government and the lies of authorities and the theft of the finances meant for services but you’ve not had a heart attack. The stress has been countered by exercise and meditation, family and friends. Others are dying of chronic disease because they’ve had to deal with these same assholes in their own worlds. Cancers come from stress as do all the diseases.  Acute stress is what our bodies are built for not the chronic debilitating stress of endless legal cases and beaurocratic miasma’s that go on for years.
Daily I’ve been required to make a decision , a diagnosis and a recommendation in less than a hour.  I’m on the front line.  Step back one leadership position and they form a committee to make a lesser decision. Step back one more leadership position and they have an enquiry. Step back another leadership position and they have a review. All of these ‘processes’ are to ensure that nothing gets done till maximum graft has been taken from the system and that the ones deepest in the shit have been able to get out and move to more lucrative grounds.  I get paid x for making a decision.  The next level gets 2 x and then 3x and 4 x.  The longer one can delay making a decision in the courts and bureaucracy the more money and power one has.  We’re living in a world of siege mentality.
And every year I’ve tried to stop someone killing some baby somewhere. And I’ve been punished and humiliated and shut up year after year.  I feel like my life could be called one baby too far. I’ve just tried to save one life too many and someone a whole lot higher wanted that life killed. It’s the Morgentaller system. The whole abortion industry of our times. It’s a metaphor.  Like Solyent Green.
And spirituality calls this my personal ‘black dog’. , my ‘depressive thinking’.  I must daily struggle to focus on the positives. Today the worm of despair entered my mind when I read in the papers how a colleague I know as the most deceitful and psychopathic is being rewarded.  It’s like the Aliens with a hidden head and no heart have a little gift ceremony for their cronies and this guys name comes up.
I see it with mixed envy and horror.  It’s like Hitler getting the Nobel Prize. Who can want a Nobel Prize after Hitler gets it.  I see this and wonder as always am I wrong. Was this fellow a good guy. He’s rich and famous now and I knew him as the liar and cheat. I personally know a fellow who let people die and ensured that others were seriously hurt, who sold out everyone and he got ahead.
So my cognitive behaviour therapy teaches me that I have to focus on those who are good people.  I can’t let the drop of ink discolour all the water. I just heard a lovely woman I know won a beauty contest.  A fellow I think is great got a job. My favourite person in academia got a professorship.  Another friend’s book was awarded. There’s all manner of positives there if I can just focus on them.
I wake up now and drag myself out of bed. There’s a whole lot of aches.The dog is ecstatic. He bounces on me.  When I get his leash he barks.  He’s exuberant. He’s loving life. He’s showing me what we both should be doing. I walk him outside down to the park. He sniffs up a storm then has a marvellous bowel movement.  I scoop it up and put it into the container.  He’s happy to walk back with me pulling on the leash.
I think maybe I’d better stop reading the medical news in the morning.  I’ve all but stopped listening to CBC.  I feel like increasingly I’m becoming monastic turning away from the insanity of the world.  I see that a whole lot of the folk I went to school with are hunkering down. They’re retired and kind of preparing for death.  They’ve taken what ever crumbs they’ve been offered and have got out. They don’t plan to do more and are kind of like kids on summer vacation. They don’t think of the future. They don’t particularly care what’s happening in politics.  They’re prepared for Armageddon and mostly just looking to their individual comfort.  I remember dad began fishing seriously when he was my age.  Fame is foolish.  Fortune makes more sense but it’s pretty obvious most of the casinos are rigged in some way. The house always wins.  Maybe next time around the karmic reincarnation cycle I’ll have more tools to win against the bank.
I read about St. John of the Cross in prison for 11 months being flogged every week or so for the entertainment of his fellow monks, the ones who didn’t like the reforms he’d tried to make.  It’s in failure that we find Christ. If I had a room full of sex objects, cocaine and bags of money and a personal army and world leaders dropping by to give me prizes I’d not think of inward riches, those infinite glories that surpass death.  Here it’s about the temporal. I’ve been given all manner of awards and made fortunes.  I’ve delivered babies and had so many children treat me with love and respect. I’ve a full life. I’ve been blessed beyond my wildest dreams.  If I measure my success from the bottom up. It’s success. But if I measure my success from the top down, from my not being an astronaut flying to Mars for instance, then yes my life is a failure.  I haven’t written the great canadian novel, found the cure for all cancer or developed a faster than light space ship.  I’ve been humbled by the reality of limitations.  I’ve done my part. I’ve contributed. I’ve paid taxes. I’ve worked and been a good man when the temptations were overwhelming to be other.  I’m not particularly wanting to be flogged every week so that I can compose the ‘long dark night of the soul’ to point the direction to the infinite. I’m kind of focussed on comfortable. Now I must get to work.  Mid week.  A few more days to go.  The weekends are always down hill.
Thank you Jesus for opening an individual door of communication with the infinite.

Journal - Aug. 14, 2012

I was dreaming of a big barge of an old chevy. There was a 50's girl there, decked out in wide brimmed hat, half veil, long white gloves and a form fitting three quarter length skirt. I was wearing a white suit and fedora, classic detective clothing from the 30's. I remember her saying he was 'hunting for something'. Then I awoke.

Rolling over, I encountered a little dog head attached to a little dog body that came alive licking my face when he realized I was awake. Then he was jumping from the bed to bring me a toy. I up stumbling across the floor jumping one leg at a time into sweats while slipping into sandals I fastened on the stairs. He was flying out the door and down the dock a head of me. He still had his chewy in his mouth. Happy dog.

What a glorious day in the city! Sunny blue sky. Early morning sounds. 7 am. I was taking the dog for a walk. He was happy. My body was 'slouching towards Bethlehem". I said the Lord's Prayer to myself. Seagulls flew overhead. Already the man with the shop was working on the rear end of his GT. He's up early. No one else was a bout. None of the usual traffic. Nice walk in an industrial neighbourhood. Dog doesn't care. I'd like trees and grass. He poops on the one stretch of grass we encounter.

There's not much happening here. Not much happening inside. I'm thankful for the sunshine. August. Summer almost gone. No July to speak of. No June. Now the glorious days of August. I fear the winter. Can't think ahead to the cold rain and misery of despair. The suicidal springs and the loss of all hope. It's an annual tsunnami of grief. I wonder if I'll be up to facing it again this year. Want to somehow offer more.

Find myself missing San Francisco. Lots more mornings like this. Memory anyway. Then the endless summers of Winnipeg come back, open skies and dry heat.

I'm content here. My mind jumps about like a fish on a line. I'll be fishing this weekend. I have the capability. One step ahead of the Hound of Heaven.

Thinking of Dad. A good visit. Wanting to return to see him again. A rock in a changing world. Sitting in the sun with him talking nonsense really. Words just music to the shared time in sunshine. Connections.

Gilbert lying at my feet, happy for the walk. I'd done that religiously before I went away and now am re establishing good habits. He's curled up in a little ball. My buddy. My friend. A companion happy just to be along. No criticism, no expectation, glad to share the time and food. He does like eating my food.

We've been enjoying the toaster oven recently. Lots of cheese sandwiches. Summer grazing food. Loved the elk Roast we had at Laura's. Loved Art's elk jerky in Orlando. Already looking forward to bow hunting in a few weeks. This weekend sailing to Salt Spring Island.

I've thought about the meaning of life. I've also thought about the disparity. The economic crisis looms large with the last couple of years one after another person talking non stop about the financial difficulties. I complain about the high taxes here and two kinds of welfare, those snakes that suck the life from the top looking only to siphon off resources from government plans to line their pockets uncaring of the projects only interested in sounding like they're doing something, mostly interested in spending money and the blue collar welfare folk, those who could work but won't. Both groups free loaders and parasites on the real thing, making a supposedly lean machine swollen with lethargy and sloth. I feel like I carry the weight of the world. Struggling and supporting working more than 3 or 4 men and women and tired of the years of long hours, sacrifice and service.

The welfare system takes money from taxes to pay the fat beaurocratic wages and all the CEO's while the church donations do the major work of service. I'm doing way too much for free and pro bono and am called a 'mark' for my 'generosity'. I curse generosity. The lending of money over the years in the range of tens of thousands and every time I'm burnt like now by psychopaths whose mothers didn't raise them not bite the nipple or bite the hand that feeds.

The mind seeks a place of self pity. Self aggrandisment and self pity are always waiting to pounce on thought and steer the ideas into their direction. Self centered and selfish. Poor me, poor me, pour me another drink.

It's a glorious day. I'm drinking a cup of coffee. I've just had a great walk. I've a day of work that's bound to please the bank. I can hope a motorcycle sells today and some of the stress of finance is lifted. Maybe someone who owes me money will pay. Maybe the outstanding collectibles will come in. I'll work longer hours and more days and in the end I'll have the same Canada pension as those who didn't work. I served the government all my life but there's no pension and older I see the future and today go without to have more money should I live in a town where I can't afford to live wondering why I'm here save for relationships.

I look up and I'm confused. I keep my nose to the grindstone and life is good. Where am I supposed to be. Here I guess. What am I supposed to be doing, this I guess. It's a "living". as they say. But I look about and it seems that the scoundrels I knew who killed and maimed for profit, the liars and the cheats are now flying about the world visitting other countries and letting them see what Canada is like. I am Canadian. This is a grand country.

Self pity and self aggrandisement, twin vultures on thought. Jealousy, envy all lying beneath the surface. Run behind all the journalistic reports I read.

I'm praising God and seeking closer relationship. Should be meditating. Singing praise. It's a good day. I'm about to shower in hot water, put on clean clothing and drive a marvellous little sports car into a fine office to sit all day and serve in work. It's a priviledge and an honour. I'm blessed in so many ways. Thankful. God is great. God is almighty. I am a child of God and my role and purpose is to know God more. This is a sojourn. I'm a tourist here, an eternal being just passing through. This is a kindergarden. I'm in God's sandbox. Love is what counts. I am to be a lover not a fighter. Healing is good. Celebration of life is good. Life is good.

Thank you Jesus. This is the day the Lord has made and I am thankful for that. Hallelujah!


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