The big shift

There is a local first nations leader, Chief Clarence Louis. He leads the Osoyoos nation and he’s a business man, he’s funny, and he’s a hard ass.

The Osoyoos band though, has shifted remarkably into capitalizing on the resources of the reservation in a modern fashion, adapting to the tourism industry that the Okanagan is known for, and employing it’s people in the process.

The industries they chose are reasonably sustainable, and aren’t founded on mining, logging or removal of the resources There, and as tourism in the Okanagan goes, the industries are adaptable and are open to complimentary business.

Back to Chief Louis though.

As I said before, he’s a hard ass, he’s pushing for all first nations people to work. And for the young men to pull up their boot straps. And I think that he has many lessons to offer society in general.

For all of the hard working men and women out there, regardless of whether they are on a traditional career path, blazing trails, or at home rearing children (quite often with part time work), there are many people of all ages that aren’t working.

There are a myriad of reasons people don’t or can’t work, and I’m not writing to pass judgement, but to question how we view work in an economy that is changing rapidly.

If the estimates are remotely accurate, 25 percent of the workforce by 2025 will be replaced via automation. Add to that, the baby boomers that are marching towards retirement – a whopping 29 percent of the population of Canada alone, we are looking at almost 50 percent of the nation’s adult population unemployed and or unemployable at the same time.

That means government income tax revenue is going to take an incredible hit, yet will still be expected to provide the same level of social welfare programs.

The people working for the federal government have known about the pension shortfall coming with the baby boomers retiring en masse for at least 25 years, and yet are still ill prepared for it, and with the addition of the wild card that is automation, we are staring point blank at a very real fiscal crisis.

Not to mention the social implications of having half of the population with little to do to fill their lives and give them a sense of purpose and belonging.

Most himans thrive on feeling needed and wanted in their community on some level. They wish to contribute and derive dignity, purpose and varying types of relationships through work, and community service, and a livable income.

How do we ensure that people aren’t going to be left behind in this futuristic world that we’re building?

Shanty towns of impoverished people build along side the most advanced technological society that humanity can conceive at the moment seems like an absolutely ridiculous notion.

The concept has been explored for more than half a century, with varying outcomes in many fictional universes, it’s a reality in some cities around the world already.

As a person that sees the value in humanity, and the potential in individuals, I wonder what kind of solution could be created to move all of civilization forward, not just a select few (That will all likely become obsolete once full automation becomes a reality)

The Venus Project is a great concept, and as we begin to merge ourselves with technology, it could be better adapted to al people’s needs.

But the construct of money needs to be looked at, consumerism in itself is going to be a thing of the past if so many people aren’t going to be working.

A basic income is a great stop gap and it’s being tested, a town in Albert a has guaranteed housing for all people, and on a socioeconomic level it’s apparently going well.

But it all goes back to human contributions to this new society that is emerging. We need to do stuff, have something to wake up for, or we degrade.

Chief Louis is right, people need to work, we need to adapt, and have purpose. We also need a kick in the rear, because we are sitting on the pot with our pants down, and the door is unlocked.

It’s just a matter of time before inevitability strolls through the door and has a good laugh at our expense.

It’s time for the movers and shakers to pull up their boot straps, for the average Joe to prepare for a starkly different reality.

Advertisements

My wish for today

A conversation came up today about a woman that invented a self cleaning house. Her name was Frances Gabe, and she was a person that didn’t fit with the status quo.

She didn’t just design the house, she patented it, and 68 devices within the house were patented as well.

Most ideas get lost, as patenting is neither cheap or simple, marketing ideas is challenging because it’s all about getting people to part with hard earned money. Development never happens for the sake of it outside people’s garages or homes.

How many diseases cured, how many social problems, inventions, even just life simplifiers that would take some of the stress and anxiety away, haven’t happened due to lack of education to that person working minimum wage or manual labor in a developing nation with the right potential?

They may dream big, or not. Walking around day to day completely unaware that if given the right opportunity, they could help society move that tiny bit forward.

How many house wives, have ideas every day, even on a smaller scale like Frances did?

There’s a little toy wheelbarrow thong that you roll around and it picks up blocks. It’s just a matter of time someone combines it with a roomba and makes it able to pick up toys, clothes and dirt and holds it in a hopper for easy sorting, instead of bending over hundreds of times a day.

If I was smart, rich and had time I’d invent and build such a thing.

But, I’m in the majority. So because I hate bending over all day, and figure it’s a huge waste of spine and maybe I’m lazy, I sweep it in a pile and sort it in one spot once a day.

The industrial revolution and consumerism got us pretty far in advancements, but it’s all stalling now. Politicians are doing everything they can to help the rich squeeze the last bit out of a failing market that it becoming increasingly automated.

People are aware that job security is scarce, and mist, feel unfulfilled and lost in it all.

There needs to be an immediate fundamental shift in society if we wish to move forward, money, wealth need to become a thing of the past.

Reconnection to community, via use of skills, ideas and potential, acceptance of the eccentric for what they truly offer, opportunity to develop ideas and test them, develop them more. Just for the sake of it.

Give humanity the chance to flourish and see that individuals if they so choose a chance to explore their full potential.

How many brilliant minds have you met in your life, wasted via addiction and diseases of despair, just because they had so much to offer, but just weren’t shiny, cool, rich or connected enough?

I know at least six off the top of my head. Maybe more if I think for a while. It’s sad…

How many more before society sees value in doing fulfilling things for the sake of personal growth, curiosity, simplicity, or to help others?

This is my wish for today.

To see a fundamental shift in social values, and to negate the need for money as we know it.

The power of secrets

A couple of days ago I was watching a snippet of news and the anchor had brought up the current media storms revolving around Hollywood’s #metoo movement, and the several political leaders currently being examined by law enforcement and the media alike for sexual misconduct. 

This anchor, a lovely middle aged woman, well seasoned in the spotlight and journalism, always appropriately sober faced in her role remained in character for her speech. 

She talked about the power of secrets. 

Perps using financial influence, authority and power to do as they will to others, depending on fear of the receiver of their mongering, advances or assaults to keep quiet. 

Depending also on a biased social justice system that ensures that a victim must have somehow been responsible for the actions of the perpetrator. 

They depend on the shaming and intense scrutiny, that comes along with making serious allegations such as sexual assault. They depend on the guilt and shame ridden emotional load to continually overwhelm their targets, and keep quiet.

Because secrets have power.

But what they are learning now, what anyone who has been paying attention is learning now… how powerful secrets are, and what can happen if secrets are used against the very people who created them.

Wikileaks was shocking, but not surprising, we all know the government hides stuff. Good and bad. But it’s not tangible to most people. At most it’s a surreal thing that gets talked about on the news by serious elderly anchors after the evening national.

But, as the hashtagged #metoo movement barreled across our world, the dialogues, the derailment and even outright shaming and abuse that came of this raw, festering and open global wound became apparent.

Not just women. Men came forward as well, some welcomed with open arms and others told off for trying to take the spotlight. 

Sexual assault is terribly common, and knows no gender, age, race, or social bracket. 

It does however know power, shame and secrets. And the people that commit assault use every tool possible to ensure they can carry on. 

But those secrets are the Achilles heel. And we are certainly coming into and awakening where people are beginning to see that if they are keeping the secrets it is They, not the perps who actually have power. 

Living with Purpose (1)

As a misfit, I’ve spent most of my 38 years on earth looking for my purpose in life.

I was raised Lutheran, and although I had a few moments of feeling like part of the church community, I always pushed for change. The church was very antiquated, had no youth programs outside of Sunday school, had an ageing congregation that spent more time preparing for their passage to heaven, or playing politics than really doing anything in the community at large.

Lutherans aren’t evangelical, they’re generally moderate protestant and follow a more apostolic doctrine th and what is shown with other Christian denominations on the media. 

I wasn’t evangelical, but I was thoroughly convinced that the reason I couldn’t engage and being is because there was nothing there for me. 

So I made a proposal to the church pastor for a youth group. He wasn’t keen. He also wasn’t a nice man. But I persisted, I asked I bugged, and badgered. For almost a year every Sunday I asked, I mentioned the idea to elders and was generally a thorn in the side of the church hierarchy. 

Along came the youth group leader. He was and probably still is fantastic, families started coming on more often, his youthful vibrance was contagious, there was youth performances in music and reverence renewed. 

Then the pastor had a falling out with an elder who’s daughter had a child out of wedlock. He refused to baptize the infant. There was uproar people leaving and so on. Then his wife showed up one day to church with a fist sized bruise on her cheek. 

I saw it. I saw the angry swollen skin that she must have painstaking caked makeup over while choking back tears. I was horrified, I felt so bad for her, and so angry at the pastor. 

A lot changed after that. The youth leader knew a young pastor with a young family, and many things changed. 

Including me.

I had questions, and even with a whole new church, there were never answers and I still never quite fit in. 

This was the first social change I’d made, and it’s been a continual trend.

What does this all have to do with purpose you might ask. 

I’m apostate at this point in my life, but I see that church even for the faithless has an important role in some people’s lives. The sense of community and belonging, the predictability and routine all can offer a sense of security. Community service and programs can help with the need for a sense of purpose in individuals.
I’ve always envied the people that I meet that knew what they were going to be early on in life, and somehow remained steadfast in that drive, and have accomplished their goals.

I envy it, because nothing ever clicked for long, and it’s taken years of personality tests and forums to compare experiences to understand that, by nature I’m not actually inclined for a singular Purpose, and it’s okay. 

So what does this mean? It means looking at the long term consistent activities in my life, even if there are lengthy stints and breaks.

Looking at things that may have seemed trivial or irrelevant (such as the above situation) and seeing my role in what happened in it objectively. 

That little fight to create change, and my persistence and fearlessness is a key to my purpose. Maybe my purpose is to find small things in life that could use improvement, persist until that thing is complete hand it off to the doers and people with the sense of purpose that fits, and then move to another thing. 

This is of course anecdotal, and each person is different. But for anyone sitting at home in their late thirties still wondering what they should be when they grow up, or what their purpose is, maybe it’s hiding in your earliest passions. 

From chaos to order

Over the years I’ve done many things looking for my career niche (still haven’t found it), I also tend to have numerous projects on the go at all times, and many disorganized piles in all kinds of strange places in my home.

Parenting hasn’t changed it much, other than slowing my progress of sifting through the piles and projects and disarray, much to the chagrin of the SO.

All’s well and good though. the kids are happy and as well fed as two year olds can be, the house is reasonably hygienic, even through the clutter and craziness, and I’ve begun merging my previous life and passions with my new life as a parent.

At 38 years old, it’s taken up until now to develop some level of discipline in regards to separating projects in such a fashion that I can wedge work in between the hectic life of being a new parent of twins.

One things I have always done is carve things. It used to be stone, but I’ve started carving wood pendants and rings, highly therapeutic, but hard on the body. I discovered Etsy, and have posted a bunch of stuff there.  That’s about where I can go with my marketing skills or passion. I guess that it’s time to learn how to go about it.

I also write, a lot. Actually, writing was the only thing that didn’t stop during the transition into parenthood. What has changed though, is how I save or publish my writing.

I’ve built a few blogs, some more active than others, each one with a particular theme,  instead of just posting in Google drive or Facebook in some ramshackle state to be sorted on a later date (which never comes btw).

Dividing up the media has helped with the writers block that intermittently comes and goes. When I have a thought stream, I literally have a place to write it out. Some stuff gets published, others just remain drafts, depending on if those streams are complete or remotely shareable.

Ruminating in the Machine is and has always been about finding or making a space in society where I feel I can belong, and sharing my adventure in it with other people that are struggling to find their niche as well. I want to see an open dialogue more often than not, but at this point, I don’t know if this will be the ideal media format for it.

I know that there is a “multipod” (multipotentialite) movement out there, see http://puttylike.com and it’s a great concept, and has amazing marketing.

And that’s really it. I’m not a marketer, I’m still a chaotic bumbler… So Ruminating in the Machine will continue until I find my niche(s?).

And now back to sifting through the piles of life.

Cheers!

Stalled

Everyone needs a hobby, or in my case several. 

With the chaotic mundanity of being a stay at home parent with twin toddlers the doesnt sleep enough, I decided a couple of months ago to try my hand at carving wood pendants.  

In my previous pre-parent life, I carved stone sculptures, and for a tome had done antique furniture repair, so the skill set is similar enough.

A local jewelry maker was selling her inventory out and had a bunch of wood cut into little discs and I bought a handful for a couple bucks, and started experimenting with my dremel. The next thing I knew, I bought the rest (about 100 pieces) and was motoring away at them averaging 4 pendants a day. 

So, what to do with all these little trinkets? I decide early on to maybe try to sell them on etsy or through farmers markets or craft stalls. 

Great! A little micro business i can do from home that is a healthy outlet, that won’t take from other hobbies in the future.

Cue going non stop for 18 hours a day or more with the kids/house/life/carving for almost two months straight (A few days downtime carving for appointments and illness etc. ) and I have a tidy amount of stock. So I’m prepared to open am online store!

And here I sit.

After doing all that hard work, inspired to keep carving, etsy account made, postal information on hand, and all I need to do is take pictures, write a description for each piece, post, shamelessly share it and cross my fingers.. or maybe toes because hands are handy.

The great machine has stalled.

It’s not the first time either… And there’s no answer as to why I do this to myself, but this time I’m admitting and addressing the silliness that it is.

Is it that I don’t like doing fiddly things? I obviously can commit to a point, know full well this isn’t a career and it’s more just for enjoyment with maybe some extra coin on the side. Worst case all my lived ones get pendants for Christmas, and I still got to carve stuff instead of cleaning and cooking and rearing children. 

It’s not like carving stops when I do the store thing, or it’s that much extra responsibility to mail stuff off to customers. So… why?

This is the conundrum of my day, if anyone reads this and has suggestions, I’m open to them 🙂

Desire

Desire

Benevolent inclusive mysterious mischief. 

Glittering in a set of eyes and flashing in a smile. More tangible than any slap and tickle, and more fulfilling than a good compliment.

The sense of desire to do with and be with another person. Free of objectification or animalistic physical release.

It’s an evolving story in a series waiting to be read, imagined about and read again, until the next book comes out. 

It’s a question mark that stirs the mind, gives you cardio, and flusters the loins. 

Desire that is wholly symbiotoc in nature..not selfish, not selfless… 

As I get older I notice my peers, caught up in the mundane grind of daily life and that look appears less often. 

How many people yearn for that sense of desire that has somehow vanished? That spark of creative passion on theory partners face, or any face for that matter?

Life is serious business and so then becomes the sex. Get it done, there is a scheduled sleep to accomplish. The kids will be up in x hours. 

Desire… looking into his or her eyes and almost smelling the spice of life in the air.. passion, creativity, lust, deep seated drive to live and share an experience. Or several hundred.

Gazing on the lips of a naughty grin with wonder, and grinning back with want.

Desire

Inrage

Oh the outrage.
People are outraged over things. Lots of things everywhere. Outrage is what’s in. Rage is in. Inrage.

There are outraged because a t-shirt could be misconstrued that is promoted by a walking dead star.

People are outraged and have created a movement against one particular group that has been doing bad things, but lumping everyone else they don’t agree with into that group, and displaying the same hateful tactics.

People are outraged over mislabeled fish, and chemical stuff and their neighbors dog.

People are outraged for other people who dgaf about the thing that is outrageous.

I’m jumping on the bandwagon.

I’m outraged at hospitals sending home sick babies to take chances with death and forcing parents to give the level of care a fully trained rn does with no training and no help.

I’m outraged that society keeps kicking it’s vulnerable down in order to keep the next in line afloat in order to keep certain other people living in  the lap of luxury.

I’m outraged that the food industry throws away billions of dollars of food away per year because it isn’t saleable and the poverty level is so high. Here and everywhere.

I’m outraged that there is a cure for some cancers that is not licensed meaning nobody owns a patent to it and because big pharmacy can’t make billions and corner the market, people are suffering and dying.

I’m outraged for all of the people in my life that are suffering from anxiety and depression because we live in a sick society that has a very uncertain fiscal and technological future. A society that has marginalized all things not fitting that system that is failing. A society that despises age and reminders of death, and puts sparkles on the trials of parent hood. 

I’m outraged at being lied to day in and day out just to sell me crap that will last just past the warranty that I didn’t need on the first place, so I can throw it into our overflowing landfills.

I’m outraged that I get more solid information from comedians than from the news. — that said I’m outraged that I have to agree with Trump.

I’m outraged because Americans are so desperate for security from the above unknowingly, have elected someone like trump because they don’t know what else to do.

We Canadians did it too. And we paid the price for it. So did our environment.

I’m outraged that what we keep asking for isn’t being done and our leaders are shirking their duties. For the sake of the next term promise.

I’m sick of entitlement. People that believe they are entitled to exorbitant wealth, objects, rights, other people’s decisions, access to other people’s bodies, freedom, life, or liberty. 

We aren’t entitled. But we are sharing this space, and seem to be pissing it up a wall between America and Mexico.  Have have a very uncertain future, and we as a global community have to take a step back and address what’s actually happening. We need to make provisions for what is already changing and prepare for what is most likely certain. 

There are two ways to lead. 

A common enemy (the enemy isn’t who you think it is)

A common goal (the goal is pretty simple)

Scratching the abyss

This is going to be a heavy post about addiction and suicide. 

For those people struggling with addiction, I have no answers. All new studies point to having love and a fulfilling life to prevent addiction, but once in the throes of addiction that community becomes a foreign place to an addict. 

As an outsider loving people who have spiraled through the event horizon of addiction, it’s a terrifying experience to behold.

After watching a person spiral in and shoot out over and over, one’s mind can go to really dark places. 

Tonight was a dark night in my mind. The differences between addiction and suicide hit me tonight.

Suicide is swift and final. There may be things left undone, unsaid or unexplained, but loved ones can grieve, and in time move forward. 
Addiction always teeters on the edge of finality holding on to a tiny thread of hope. The death of an addict is usually a slow and painful process.

One grieves a loved one that slides down the rabbit hole out of sight, but gets a glimmer of hope when the addict reaches up and cries for help.

The grief is paused. 

Then the addict slides down again.

Over and over the cycle goes until the addict destroys themselves partially or entirely. But up until the end, there is hope.

I don’t know how an addict feels during the cycle, and I refuse to ask for justification. It’s needless. I can’t force sobriety, or a fulfilling life. None of us can, it’s entirely up to an addict to make that decision.

Addiction is a sad part of society, and hopefully we can help our communities find a solution to help all who struggle with it.

I found happiness once

Years ago, I found happiness and actually had it hang around for six months or so.

Like actual happiness, I would wake up at peace and look forward to my days, there was joy every day of the week. I slept well at night and honestly can’t remember anything wrong happening at that point in my life.

It’s taken me 11 years to figure out what it was that made me so happy. Yes I had quite my job to chase my dreams to be an artist, and I got up when I was rested and wasn’t governed by clocks, or any other societal norms.

Over the years I tried and failed miserably to recreate that situation in a more stable and financially stable manner, and be truly happy again.

But I’ve come to realize that the art was a byproduct of what was actually making me happy.

I did art in a park downtown and there was always a stream of people that paraded by. In that stream there would be a random that would plop themselves down on my painting blanket and let me listen to them.

They would share a piece of life with me and I would actively listen to them and cultivate this spark, and as the conversation unfolded somehow one of the paintings I was working on would come to life. It would evolve from a bunch of colours and lines into something tangibly interesting.

I was happy because I had a fluid audience to listen to and communities with. Each fleeting micro-relationship special and entirely unique. And I thrived on experiencing the beauty and mutual vulnerability of it all. It was raw, natural and didn’t follow most social rules.

I had women and men alike, people in poverty and Versace wearers, Bikers  (yes leathers and Harleys) and the most prim and proper devout religious individuals. All hanging out on my little painting blanket, sharing life and just existing as they actually were… deep down inside, without judgement or criticism.

Obviously this lifestyle probably wouldn’t make most people happy, but it was perfect for me at that point, and I wonder if I can find a way to incorporate it back into my life now.