Fear and Bears

I went to the Rockies over a year ago with my husband. We had a great time, hiking, hanging out and generally enjoying being in the magnificent Rocky Mountains. They are definitely one of the most beautiful and haunting places in our wide world.

I used to go there often when I was a young woman, and the mountains gave me a feeling of peace and confidence I've remembered often throughout my less peaceful life. So I was surprised to hear the many warnings about bear spray: how there were so many bears, how aggressive they've become, and how everyone should be on high alert and carry bear spray.

There are excellent arguments for and against carrying bear spray. 

Arguments For: bears have changed over the decades. Apparently they have gotten much less afraid of humans and perhaps they've become more aggressive, and perhaps the populations have grown. And, why not? It's easy to hook on to your belt and easy to deploy if you need to.

Arguments Against: for decades people have been living, hiking and exploring in the Rocky Mountains and we've always learned that making noise or travelling in groups and following simple rules will avoid nasty incidents with bears. Also, most people obey traffic laws but every so often some poor law-abiding soul gets hits by a car.

I did a very unscientific and completely informal poll on a Facebook group I belong to with over 25,000 members. It's a trail running group, all women. I asked them whether they carried bear spray in bear country, and who had ever had an encounter with a bear. Some of the women had indeed had encounters. No serious ones. Some of the women carry guns. Most of the responses were along the lines that most bears are afraid of humans, and that life itself can be risky.

Life can indeed be risky. Just last week I heard that a bunch of people were forced from their homes by an adjoining state bombing their country. My heart is pretty broken. A maternity hospital was bombed and we know of at least one mother and baby who were killed. How does that make any sense at all? As a midwife, we said brightly to each other "Meconium happens", until a baby actually died and then we realized, yes, the shit actually can and does hit the fan way more often than we would want it to.

But all of this is just begging the question: when is it smart to be afraid and when is it dumb to carry bear spray? Fear is necessary for life: we avoid dangerous things by working through from fear to avoidance to survival. But we can also get too cautious in life, and our fear can prevent us from living our lives properly. 

Balance is the key, but where do we learn how to balance this tightrope, this knife's edge we call life? And how do we teach our children that balance? When part of us only wants to create a soft cushion around the child so they'll feel no pain? Of course we fight against that urge in ourselves, because at the same time we know that humans need to experience richness in their lives, and part of that richness is darkness too. We've all heard the trope about darkness and light. But it's true. As Alan Watts says, if you want the Yang, you gotta take the Yin: more Yin, more Yang. 

Give me those Rocky Mountains, hold the bear spray. No, wait, YOU carry it, I'll skip blindly ahead. 

Now play this song, close your eyes, and remember everything is fine.

  

The Perfect Run? It's All in your Head!

The Perfect Run?

Does it exist? Of course it does! When you're out the door, on a beautiful day, with nothing to do but spend the next couple of hours running. Your shoes are perfectly tied, your clothes fit. It's a lovely warmish dry day. You didn't eat too much or too little, you have nothing to worry about ... you're in heaven! You're gonna have a perfect run!

Reboot.

Then there are those other runs, the ones from the dark side.

Yesterday I headed out for a long run - 3 3/4 hours worth - and I knew it wouldn't be good. I couldn't find the right clothes; my hair was itchy down my back; I realized way too late in the day I hadn't eaten enough, so I gobbled down some crusty toast and cashew butter just before leaving, and  tried to make a protein shake but I forgot to put the lid on properly, at least I was near the sink so when I shook it most of the explosion landed .... you get the picture. Anyway, I headed out and started putting those feet one after the other.

Reflections.

You know when you're running, and you feel pretty good, tall and svelte, running across a beautiful meadow in your mind? Then you catch a glimpse of yourself in a store window? That's right. There she was, Mrs. Tiggywinkle, bouncing along, with her pink bobble hat bouncing on top of her head. And she was going so slowly! She checked her watch. Yip. Going slow.

More Reflections.

Then I started talking to myself. I started trying to pull myself away from the gloom that had descended upon me over the past few days. The best way to do this, I find, is just to concentrate on the body. What's happening with my breath? Is my chest open? How are my shoulders? Is my torso straight? Hands relaxed by my sides? Is my jaw clenched? Head upright? How's my gait? Are my hips working well? How are my feet landing? That little knee pain I had, what's happening with that? How many steps am I taking per minute? They say 180 is good. For a while I run ...two...three...one ... two ... three ...all good.

Onward!

I decided I would run this 225 minute run in three stages: the first stage would be hills, up to "the mountain" and around there on the trails for a bit. I got there and there was still lots of snow. Staying on the roads and sidewalks was easier, so I lengthened the next leg and ran far, far into the east end of the city. The third leg was easier in a way: I knew I was going home and I knew I would achieve my time goal. But harder because I'm learning that at around the three-hour mark I get kind of bored with my own company, and my legs start to get a little heavy.

I had some fancy sports jelly-beans with me that helped with my energy level, and a nice backpack with water, so physically I was set. But mentally? Not good! My mind wouldn't stop burrowing around with this and that thought, and any time I would catch one of those squirrelly things, it would run away and then sneak up on me a couple of kilometres down the road. Thoughts of my finances, the cafe finances; my kids and if they are happy; my husband and our life together; the refugees I didn't really help much in Greece last year; why refugees anyway; why is there evil in the world, and I would remember to concentrate on my breath, my gait, my steps ... and have a little peace and then it would all start again.

The Triumphant Return

Anyhow, I ran home, stretched, ate a burger, and all was well.

Yes, reader, you guessed it.

I had a great week! Really! Okay, the cafe was packed (yay!), I had lots to do at home to prepare for Passover (yay!), I got my two short runs in and my cross-training (yoga - yay!), and then BOOM!

Friday afternoon I'm clearing my flowers (spring -yay!). I did a nice deep squat and could hardly get up - my knee!! So, RICE for the weekend, and no stairs, and no running, and no long run especially (it was gonna be four hours) ... and a lot of time to think.

Yes, "we are made of dreams and bones". Bones, muscles, fascia, all that physical stuff ... super important, especially when you're training to run a marathon. Also when you're giving birth, making love, eating...But the "dream" part - without that, we're nothing! If you don't have that dream, rather, if you allow yourself to grumble instead of dream; if you bring your unhappinesses  "along inside your soul", and let them drag behind you, then your body will suffer.

Lesson Learned?

The lesson I learned from my knee? Just as I check my water, phone for music, watch, that I'm wearing the right clothes for the weather, that I've had my last-minute pee and that I've eaten enough ... I need to check my mental state and throw my emotional garbage out before my long run. Because if I don't, it will grind away at my joints, crumple up my fascia, brittle down my cartilage and generally make a mess of things - the longer the run, the bigger the mess.

In life, as in birth work, as in running - leave your ego at the door, lace up, and go have fun! You will get your perfect run.

Justice

We used to be ridiculously politically incorrect in the olden days. Remember Flip Wilson, dressed in the judge costume, wearing a tilting greyish wig and the "Heah come da judge!" routine?

So, I had to go to court to testify about a case that involved my car and a driver who decided it would be ok to smash into me and then drive off. But two different people (me duh and someone else) got his license plate number. So I toddle down to court on the metro (subway in Montreal), on one of the freezingest cold days of the year, when I'd much rather be at home working on my book (yes, writing another one)...and anyway, the guy had paid his fine and I didn't have to go. They refunded my metro tickets and sent me home.

And I started thinking about justice and how it works.

1. Someone does something bad.
2. They get caught.
3. A group of people decide that the person did indeed do the bad thing, and how the person should be punished.
4. A negotiation starts.
5. Sometimes, justice is done. Sometimes, it isn't.

And I started thinking about the interesting projects I am involved in. I just started helping to organize Montreal's One Billion Rising event. This is a worldwide event that was conceived by Eve Ensler,  to demand an end to violence against women.

This is justice.

Montreal Birth Companions has started a Birth Abuse Witness Program, which will collect attestations from women who have been left uncomfortable with their birth experiences. These attestations are part of a campaign to change the maternity care system in Montreal.

This is justice.

Every week, MBC volunteer doulas assist women who have no resources, who are from other countries, who may not have families or partners here, who may have experienced abuse and violence. MBC doulas accompany these women to give birth and provide a safe and nurturing environment for them and their families during this important time.

This is justice.

At Bumi Sehat, in Bali, women are given quality care during their childbearing year. Midwives, doctors, acupuncturists, and others care for these women without payment because of the generosity of others and their desire to do good.

This is justice.

So, justice isn't only about hit and runs and terrible crimes. When those things happen, yes, we would like the state to get involved and do its thing. But the simple acts of justice, love and kindness balance out. They have to.

Let's find the balance.