Pink Shirt Day

As some of you may already be aware, today is Pink Shirt Day. For those of you who do not there is the link provided and I will also give you a brief overview of Pink Shirt Day. This particular day strikes a cord that resonates deep within me because I too suffered at the hands of multiple bullies during my school years. I felt that today, a day set aside to help bring an end to bullying, would be the ideal time to share with you how it feels to be bullied; at least from my perspective.

Pink Shirt Day is the last day in February of each year and is dedicated to promoting the end to bullying. A fellow classmate of mine, Travis Price, and his high school friend, David Sheperd, started this campaign as a result of bullying at their school. A new student wore a pink shirt to school and was in turn tortured unmercifully by some of his peers; bullies. Travis and David managed to gather several boxes of pink shirts and returned to school, handing them out to all the students. As a result, these two young men helped to bring safety and acceptance to a victim of bullying but even more so, to fight back against bullying through non-violence. It has since become an annual day to help end bullying.

Those of you who have known me for a long time no doubt know that I was bullied or picked on through school. Those that don't, well I still look the same as I did back then except my glasses are slightly more stylish than they used to be. Today I am very happy and proud to be known as a geek or a nerd; back then, not so much. I always did well in school when it came to tests and projects. If it wasn't an A, then I was barely putting in an effort. I looked the part and I reflected the part.

I can remember the first time I actually remember being bullied. I was in the fourth grade. That was the year I first got my glasses. To say that it was a difficult year would be a little generous. In retrospect it is silly, but as an impressionable child names like nerd, four-eyes, freak and loser are as hurtful as any punch in the face; in fact I may have preferred that as at least then I could have fought back in some way.

The glasses and nerd stigma were just the beginning of my troubles. I have contemplated sharing this next bit of information to try and save feelings but after careful consideration the blame here lies in the bullies, not the person to whom I shall now speak. My father was a teacher. He was also the Vice-Principal of the school he taught at for some time. His school, at the time, was renowned as the last stop. This is the school where all the kids who had been expelled from every other school ended up. We're talking students who can legally drive in a Primary to Grade 8 school. The point is that one of the things I have always admired of my father is that he is just and fair. Unfortunately, just and fair in a classroom full of problem students is interpreted as...well, I think you know. Needless to say many of the students who took issue with my father as a teacher took their vengeance out on me. Again, in case you're reading this dad, I really, really need you to understand that you are as good, fair and just a man as any can be. That your students then were already set on resisting authority, it is no surprise that they would be angry at someone who was as just as you. Keep reading though dad, there is something for you near the end about those students.

As a victim of being bullied, I must confess that there were very few occasions where the bullying was more than psychological. Psychological bullying to a child with a heightened sense of emotion and thought can be as damaging as fists and kicks. There were many times that I prayed to be someone different; many times I cried when I was alone; many times I felt shame and embarrassment over being myself. I hated that time of my life. Then I went to High School.

Prior to High School, I had very few encounters with bullies from my father's school. When I went to High School, that changed. After half a year, I took on the belief that in order to stop the bullying, my best bet was to become part of their crowd; accepted. I started smoking cigarettes, I started drinking, I started getting bad marks (I actually had to do that on purpose; remember I am a nerd.), I started smoking marijuana and just generally stopped acting like I cared. You can look at my High School transcripts if you want to see the results of this adaptation for survival. They strongly reflect it. It wasn't a complete success; I still suffered at the hands of some of them but all and all, I was left to myself. I eventually changed High Schools over an unrelated matter.

What I want to share with you now is very important to me because every time this has happened, it has come at a time in my life where I was in a really dark place psychologically. Those bullies, not all of them to date but a large majority, have all sought me out and apologized to me. That's not a typo. Not only have they apologized to me but they have mentioned specific moments, unbeknownst to them, that were particularly painful to me. And as though that were not enough, each one who was a student of my father (this one is for you dad) has confessed to me how much they regret their behavior in his classroom, how much they respected him and the way he handled their behavior and that they wish they could go back and have him as a teacher because he was the best teacher they had ever had. I won't mention names because they are not important; the importance is their actions.

I know that for most, they will never get the closure that I have been fortunate enough to have. The apologies and kindness of my past tormenters has always come at a time when I felt like I could take no more; when I was running out of hope. Those who were the shadows of darkness in my life later became the beacon of light when I was lost in an abyss of despair. I want you to know that it gets better. I still have self-esteem and self-confidence issues as a result of what I endured. To know me one would question that but it is truth. I project outwardly the most that which I lack and fear the most. I do it to inspire others but more importantly, I do it to inspire myself.

So today, as you go about your daily lives, try and think about what it might feel like to be bullied. If you were a bully, let me tell you something: find that person and tell them you're sorry (if you truly are) for whatever. DO NOT BE EMBARRASSED. We all make mistakes along the journey of life, some we can fix, others we cannot. An apology will not erase that which has been done nor the damage. What it will do however, is help the process of healing. You may not think that it will make any difference but I swear to you, even if it has been 30 years or more, it will mean the world. I hope today that just one bully understands what their actions are doing and seeks help. Although they may be a bully, don't forget that they are victims to. You don't wake up and decide to be a bully; you learn it.

Take a moment to help spread the word. Wear a pink shirt, or anything pink for that matter. Have a Twitter account? Find and follow Travis Price or Pink Shirt Day; hashtag #PinkShirtDay or just promote it in general. The suffering has gone on long enough, for both the bullies and the victims. We can help make it stop.

I Am John Galt.

As I have started to become more active in the realm of social media and the many varying social media websites I have continued to use a common thread through each one of my connecting network accounts: my avatar. If you have found your way to connecting with me on any of my other social networks (and I encourage you to feel free to do so) you will no doubt have noticed my "I am John Galt." avatar. Recently as I have begun to meet more and more new people through social media, I am beginning to get more questions in regards to it; some positive, some negative. I decided that I would take a moment to address and explain this.

The first thing that will help is to explain its origin for those who don't know its reference. John Galt is the lead character in a fiction novel called Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. I will divulge as little as possible surrounding the actual storyline as I will now take the time to strongly urge you to take the time to pick up this novel. It is intimidating in size but do not be discouraged; you will be happy you read it. Back to John Galt. John Galt's character is some surreal combination of Einstein smashed together with Aristotle (this is just my opinion, not any official description) in that he is as much a philosopher as he is a physicist. This combination of how to think and what to think is the foundation of his heroism in his role as the hero of the novel. SEMI-SPOILER. Galt, realizing the decline of society and morality goes on strike from the world. Though he has the ability to save the world physically through his technology, he chooses to remain hidden, on strike because the world will not change its morality. His mission is to convince the men and women of ability to join him on his strike from humanity to teach a valuable lesson on morality.

Atlas Shrugged, like most all of Rand's books preaches that the ultimate morality lies in selfishness; the importance of the individual and the love of oneself. Now, on the outside this comes across as perhaps a negative; it is not. Rand wrote in a different time; in a different world. If she were present today she would be appalled by the state of the world. She would most certainly agree that capitalism, her ideal, was long since dead and replaced by corporatism. She would also, I am certain, be against the Occupy movement.

This is where I address the "obvious glaring contradiction" that has been brought to my attention several times: my involvement in a movement that demands a Robin Hood; Rand's most hated fictional character. Please read 'The Money Speech' to understand that statement and to see how money should truly be viewed as. So you now see the irony or contradiction here: I "advertise" individualism and selfishness through my "branding" but yet appear to preach about collectivism and brotherly-love. 

The problem with most any misunderstanding is a lack of communication: either purposeful or unintentional. In this case it is unintentional and I will now clarify. I am two parts to a single whole. I believe undeniably in the importance of the individual and of rational-selfishness. I also believe in the necessity and importance of a collective and for empathy. These two things, though outwardly seem to be opposing forces, are but two parts to a single force necessary to find a more rational and natural code of ethics.

For a long time, I embraced the collective ideal. That ultimately, the importance of the collective surpassed that of the individual. When I finished Atlas Shrugged for the first time, I had a complete reversal on this position. I came to believe that individualism and rational self-love was the most important trait a person could have. What I have now come to realize is that one is useless without the other. An individual can live almost an entire lifetime alone once a certain age is reached; however they must still be part of a collective for at least the beginning: the family. The family is the basis of foundation for any type of larger collective or society. The collective is a requirement of survival; if only temporary. However, it should be noted that however independent an individual may become, their success is limited to their own knowledge. They lose the benefit of a collective consciousness.

Understanding that individualism and collectivism are two parts to a single whole is essential to the development of humanity if it wishes to move past its own internal conflicts (both as societies and as individuals). When one possesses an even share of respect, love, admiration and importance for the individual and the collective, one learns the value of both and thus learns and develops the code of morality required for living, interacting and existing with oneself; ones collective; and ones environment.

So I understand the seeming contradiction in seemingly opposing ideals but that is the key communication that we must mutually understand: I do no see them as opposing each other but complimenting each other. Perhaps the complexities of the human mind are that they are simple. I love my life and love for life; I also value the life of others and respect their love for it. I think this is indispensable in human social development.

I am what I think John Galt might be (idealistically) in today's world.

Series: Addiction: Addict Versus Person

One of the most misunderstandings about an addict is the misconception that they are the same person. They are not. When you become an addict, you become two separate entities. One half of you is the same person you always were; the other half is the thing of nightmares. It is on this point where I agree that addiction becomes a mental disease; it is recognized as such and has been for some time. I am not here to argue or question the legitimacy of that recognition however and will leave that for others to discuss. I will tell you what I know; from experience.

When I first became an addict, I didn't know I was an addict. Worst than not knowing I was an addict was not truly knowing what an addict was. My preconception of homelessness and beggars was perhaps a contributing factor into my downward spiral; it provided ignorance. I cannot stress this enough, you do not need to be poor or homeless or downtrodden to be an addict; nor do you always end up there. Make no mistake, addiction is not an environmental condition, it is one of mental and emotional stresses that can arise from any situation depending on the individual. It is as a result of these stresses that provide opportunity, or even cause you to seek it, to become an addict. As of now, you are two people.

When you have a split personality, and make no mistake that is the only way to understand it if you have never been an addict; period. Make a note of that medical community. When I was in the deepest and darkest stage of my addiction, my addiction to crack, I would literally have conscious battles with my two selves. My true self of logic and rationality would try so hard to convince me of what I was doing but no matter how strong the reasoning or how valid the argument it was never any match to the addict who craved his escape. My own mental voice arguing with itself; because addiction is insanity.

When I was without my addiction, the times when I had drugs and alcohol, I was as much my true self externally as I could be. Addicts are the world's greatest actors and the world's greatest liars; until they've given up. Then they become as transparent as the wind; sadly most of those who really care for the person will be blind to what has just happened. They will continue to support and enable. We'll talk about that in another post as it is of the utmost importance to understand the people who suffer from addiction by proxy. When hope is lost the addict has become the dominant personality and the true self is but a tiny whisper of a voice, barely audible.

I have two sets of memories from that time in my life. Two different perspectives for everything I did and everything I went through. I can remember feeling arrogant and clever from smooth talking a drunken bar patron out of 40 dollars. I can remember an intense feeling of guilt and shame at the same time. It is a strange feeling, especially in retrospect, to be aware of two consciousnesses within one mind yet I swear to you today that that is how it truly is. 

The Old John

As John the Addict I was very prone to being a terrible example of a human being. I will refrain from identifying particular situations or events. Unfortunately there are some wrongs that are still trying to be righted and I live every day to do so. I can tell you quite honestly and brutally that I lied, manipulated, cheated, stole and misled some of the dearest people in the world to me and some of whom I don't even know there names which makes it all the worst. It is a guilt that I deal with internally and I am unsure exactly how, when or if I will ever truly come to terms with it. That guilt, that shame brings up the thing that anyone who has never been an addict can never truly understand no matter how deeply their empathy is rooted; though I am happy to report that there are some who are able to get very close (thanks to the staff from Addiction Services, 2nd Floor, Yarmouth Hospital).

That notion of guilt and shame is what the addict feeds on. Your true self comes to realize too late the recognition of being an addict; however the fear and embarrassment from the guilt and the shame give the addict strength over your true self. It dominates you and the fear becomes so great that your true self cries itself to sleep at night; your true self prays to God for mercy in death; your true self screams for help but is muzzled by the addict; your true self...starts to die.

My saving grace. That miracle of the universe which saved my true self almost killed us both. I have paid dearly and costly for that night. Though I have dealt with the guilt and shame of the incident long ago, it seems that the world has not yet decided to forgive me. On a late night in March, just after midnight, alone in my parents car and under the influence I lost consciousness and drove head on into a telephone pole. No other property was damaged; no other person was hurt. I do not question it, I am only thankful. Before we continue, to give you a little more insight, when I regained consciousness I saw police lights flashing and tried to start the car to drive away completely unaware my front end was wrapped around a pole. 

I have paid for that, but I would gladly have paid more for what I gained. That night I lost many things: I lost my license, I lost the trust of my family, I would later lose a job opportunity, I lost money, I lost a clean criminal record (there are two DUI charges on the books, one is a criminal offense and one is not;I am unsure of the reason for picking one over the other) and though all those things are things I have regained, re-payed or re-earned that which I lost that I am most thankful for was my fear. Somewhere in between the ambulance ride and the police ride from the hospital to the jail, my true self used the situation and exploited it the way my addict self had been exploited those around me.

That incident despite having ongoing consequences (a DUI on my permanent record), I am more grateful for that moment than you might be able to rationalize. When my true self was able to use that moment of confusion and regain control it provided perhaps the last opportunity I might have to be that one, individual person again (I had already been through the detox program once at this stage).

I was fortunate; far beyond most. I found the personal strength I needed and used the strength from my support network of family, friends, the wonderful staff from the clinic and the meetings I attended for some time after. I am blessed because I have survived what I have seen some literally die from. I am aware of this and I do not take myself nor those in life for granted at any time. Understand that my recovery, as successful as it has been is always ongoing. When your mind is stressed and taxed to the point that you literally are dealing with a second person (at least in the mind) you cannot undo that. You can control it to the point where it becomes but just the occasional, tiniest, incomprehensible garble of jargon in the recesses of your mind but it will always remain. It will even escape for brief moments and it is in those moments you are truly tested. It has been some time since I have been truly tested, but I remain ever vigilant.

Though I confess that three or four times through the year I do indulge with family or friends in some alcoholic drinks. I am aware of the danger of this and so are they. Though I feel in control during those times and can generally remain such, I would never dare do it without them on the off chance I lost control. Make no mistake, John the Addict is serving a life sentence with no chance of parole. I am determined to never endure what I put myself and others through ever; my story is to help those that are or those that are by proxy.

I have stated previously that I have dealt with my skeletons. I fear not the judgement of others because I have found forgiveness in the eyes of those I wronged and I have almost come to completely forgive myself. My errors are my own and I hide nothing. John the Addict is not John the Person.

High School Graduation - Age 26

John the Person is someone you would like to know. He is someone who can listen to what you are saying with an understanding and open-mind. John the Person is honest, even when it's going to hurt but does so with empathy and compassion to help you understand. John the Person is a unique and interesting individual who believes in the power of positivity and hope. John the Person is someone that will accept you in spite of any failures and shortcomings you may feel you have because he has understood his own. John the Person has come to understand that there is something to be learned from all people; that there is not only a second side to every story but as many stories as there are people involved. John the Person almost killed himself once; now he knows how to live.

I hope you have gained some helpful insight into the difference between the person and the addict. Most people, addicts and non-addicts, can never learn to separate the two; but they are two separate people, two separate personalities. To say that an addict is helpless is a static truth, it depends how deep into insanity they have traveled. This is very difficult to understand I'm sure and I assure you that I am quite sane (I've always been eccentric which is much different than crazy) but if you are an addict reading this; if you are an addict by proxy (someone suffering because of someone's addiction; again that will be its own post); or if you know someone that is you must realize this reality of addiction if you ever wish to help or get help. You must also realize this if you are seeking forgiveness or trying to give it.

Next

Sunday Afternoon Poetry #3

This second posting contains one of my own original works. It has currently been published in two separate poetry anthology books. It's an older one of my writings when I first began writing down my thoughts and ideas. I hope you enjoy.

TrailBlazing

As I was glancing at the sky,

I took a moment to wonder why.

I gazed at my surrounding 'scape

And began to love my mortal fate.

On this planet we all shall grow,

Through summer sun and winter snow.

What we do may never last;

We may get lost along the path,

But if you've got a gift to share,

Whether it's know or un-aware,

Do not hide from those who love

Or fly away like a pigeon dove.

Troubled times will lay ahead,

Careful on the ground you tread.

And when you will receive your call,

Your legs will falter, your step will fall.

Do not be worried or gripped with fear,

The gift your brought, you left it here.

You'll never know what help it brings,

Or perhaps it will cause suffer-ing;

But if you used it for the better good

And only one had understood

Do not feel as though you've failed

For you began a newer trail.

And from this trail others will form;

Lay down your head, begin to dorm.

For now you're on to better things,

And left your mark on Human Beings.
 

-John Thibeau, 02/Aug/2001


Next

Sunday Afternoon Poetry #2

This week I will be posting twice on Sunday. The first post will be a poem from one of my very favorite poets, Robert Frost. Frost has a unique style to his poetry. So much so that quite often when I hear one of his poems for the first time I am able to identify it before I find out the author. I think it is perhaps his use of nature and observation of things that make me truly enjoy his poetry; though it must be stated he does have a philosophical side as well that entices me to read his works. The poem I will share with you today you may have read many times over and if so, please enjoy it again. No matter how often I come across it, I still get the same pleasure from it.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Next

Syria: The Intervention Dilemma

For those of you who are not followers of mine on Twitter or friends of mine of Facebook (and any of you may feel to be so at any time; I truly enjoy meeting new people.) you would have missed a somewhat lengthy post I made on Syria. Syria, most notable the city of Homs, is under daily bombardment, shelling and rocket attacks; by their own government. You can skip over to YouTube and just search for Syria and no doubt you will find some very disturbing and graphic videos showing the massacre currently being imposed upon the people of Syria. There was a CNN article about why the world was not intervening in Syria and it really got me thinking.

At what point does it become the responsibility or right for any country to intervene in the affairs of another country? Though of late, my days of activism have become much more stationed to the distribution of information and truth and less aimed towards picket signs and encampments, it is very critical for me or any individual to really consider what such an action of intervention truly means. Even under the proper pretense, an intervention of any sorts is also an imposition. It is essentially a 'catch 22'. Using Syria as an example, the people of Syria beg for mercy and salvation from the death and violence being brought upon them by the hands of their own government. Intervention here would be in response to the people, not the government. At what point does it become acceptable for a nation to intervene on behalf of the people of another nation even if it's against those people's own government? Is it ever acceptable?

Questions. Questions. Questions. They pierce the inner sanctum of mind in moments like this. My most inward and basic desire is to help people; help humanity. Is that vain? Arrogant? Egoist? No. It is the sum of two parts that makes it truly honest: selfishness and altruism (I am in the process of writing a short publication on the idea of dualism. You may see the work in progress here.) With that burning desire comes the difficulties in contemplating the moral and ethical implications involved with any form of foreign intervention. 

My greatest problem when considering the idea of intervention is the inner debate of allowing each country its own right to develop versus the inherent human need to help other humans who are suffering. To what degree is it within my right to determine if some foreign country's government has passed beyond a boundary that could be considered 'development'? As an individual human being I must be compelled to aid my brothers and sisters of the Earth, but then as a government of a free and independent nation I must respect the diversity of culture of other nations and be tolerant of their judicial and cultural practices.

I know that what I see happening in Syria is wrong. It vibrates through my body straight to the very core of the foundation of my morality. Because of that, I feel that my greater instinctual desire and need to help others might lend me to walk down the path of intervention. However, the moment this realization springs to mind another suddenly opposes is. My obligations are to my the citizens of the country of which I govern. To intervene would easily not be in the best interests of the people of my nation (especially if this hypothetical meant 'my nation' was Canada and I had Harper's job). And then another dilemma, the people of Syria beg for help from the destruction and mayhem being caused by their own government; the Canadian government, in what it believes are the best interests of its people takes a non-intervention stance; the people of Canada rise up against their governments decision of non-intervention and demand action; now what? Are the people of one nation entitled to demand action in response to the plea from the people of a foreign nation?

As you can see there are many dilemmas when considering the idea of intervention in any situation, in this situation we've spoken mainly of Syria however. This does not exclude the fact that each and every time we have intervened in the affairs of foreign countries. It is hopefully an example of what our governments had to contend with when making these decisions although it is oftentimes evident that they are completely apathetic regardless. There is much to consider for me in light of this. Things such as what does equality truly mean if equality for you is not the same for me? How does one define true freedom when it may differ from nation to nation? How do you avoid imposing your ideas and concepts of rights, freedoms, justice and equality when intervening? Do you avoid it? Can you avoid it? So many questions.

You see, it is questions like these that made being a politician or member of the government a duty rather than a career option. These decisions, and many left unsaid, are difficult and complex in their nature. It takes a very wise, knowledgeable and keen individual to take on the responsibility of making such decisions in the name of an entire nation. Unfortunately, this is no longer the case as decisions like these are no longer based on morality and ethics but on dollars and cents. Being a Public Servant through service in the government (sounds like military enlistment there? Something you don't necessarily want to do but do for the sake of the collective because you have that ability?) is no longer about serving, it's about taking. If we had but one individual of true character leading just one nation...oh wait, we did. John F. Kennedy.

Mayor Peter Kelly

As I was sitting here thinking about what to write about, the one thing that kept coming back to the forefront of my mind was of a person: Mayor of the city of Halifax, Peter Kelly. Now, I must share that I have had a personally terrible experience of lies and deceit when it comes to Peter Kelly. In fact, I was as much against him as any person who thought he was a poor example of a politician. It seemed that despite any ridiculous type of mistake, the people of Halifax were always ready to forgive him.

Over the last year, Kelly has done nothing to help himself. The first big mistake was a mishandling of city funds to the estimated tune of nearly $400 000 in a concert scandal. It has been reported that Kelly gave an advertising/marketing company a loan to have a musical group play here in the city; the company representative skipped out when the group cancelled taking the money with him. The people were made aware and yet, somehow it was eventually forgotten.

Mayor Peter Kelly, Tom Waters & Myself, Nov 2012

One of his other great blunders over the last year was the eviction of the Occupy Nova Scotia encampment on November 11th, 2011, Remembrance Day, at Victoria Park in Halifax. As I was present that day, I can most assuredly tell you that what happened that day was as deceitful and shady a move as any individual can make; a promise was made, then broken by our hypocrite mayor, Peter Kelly. I will be bringing this particular story to light in an upcoming blog post. Needless to say, ONS had been given certain assure-ties which were then broken as over 40 police officers abused, accosted and violently brutalized peaceful protesters. Some of us were jailed. Me included.

As if this disgrace to the Veteran's were not enough when combined with the $400 000 giveaway, there comes the Transit Strike. Mayor Kelly and the council have had many opportunities to bring this current labor dispute to end on several occasions; including being offered binding arbitration by the unions which is a gamble as there is no guarantee that they would get a ruling in their favor. Yet, no terms of agreement were found. As of this moment, the city has offered its final offer which union workers will be voting on today. Fingers crossed.

 

The Mayor seems to have a knack for getting himself in hot water with the public. One other such occurrence happened in regards to the sale of the St Pats-Alexandra school in the North End. Blatantly ignoring policy, the property was sold directly to a private investor rather than being open to the community groups nearby for 90 days as is the custom when selling schools. As expected, many non-profit groups were outraged as their current locations are in disrepair and such a location like the school would bring all the community outreach groups together under one roof.

There is one more disgrace that is most important to mention as it has just recently come to light. Peter Kelly, in 2004, was given the task of executor of the will of Mary Thibault, a long time family friend. Her assets totaled over half a million dollars. Briefly, Kelly was instructed to divide the estate between the dozen or so beneficiaries, including a well-known not-for-profit group. Instead, eight years have passed and most have not seen any money whatsoever. Meanwhile, Kelly has pocketed over $150 000 dollars from the estate. Currently, there is no investigation into his actions, but the release of the story by local journalist Tim Bousquet of The Coast created a firestorm of ridicule and criticism especially the next day when the good Mayor failed to appear for an ever important council meeting. Repeated attempts to reach him by telephone and email were not even received by him, but forwarded to his lawyer.

So as you can see, Peter Kelly has done a fantastic job of ruining his own political career over the last year through hypocrisy, by sticking his fingers into a cookie jar that did not belong to him, by ignoring his own policies and by failing to take responsibility for his actions. So why have I taken the time to re-iterate all this? Well, you may not know of his failures and I felt it was essential to give you a background before making the intended point which is this:

Mayor Peter Kelly has brought upon himself the many criticisms and ridicules that have been at the forefront of local and national media as well as a continuous barrage of social media sites that are constantly blasting him for his actions. While I completely agree that Kelly brought this upon himself and the initial firestorm was well-deserved, I also began to stop and think about what this might be like for him. Again, much of the inflammatory comments were earned but at what point have we, as citizens, crossed the line? Peter Kelly is finished in politics; he has already announced that he has dropped from the mayoral race for re-election. He heard the people's words loud and clear. Yet still the onslaught of public critique continues.

Why do I feel for him? He is going to have a lot to answer to concerning the estate of Mary Thibault; his reputation in politics is tarnished beyond repair; he has all but resigned from being the mayor; I guess I think he's going to suffer enough, and has already, for his mistakes. I think that it is extremely critical that, in a case such as this where I had a predisposition to be opposed and critique him, if I can stop and realize that this man is a human being and that he is receiving and going to receive his just desserts that it is time we, as individual human beings, understand that when someone has paid for their or will pay for their mistakes, we allow them the humility of forgiveness.

Future ex-mayor Peter Kelly, you lied and deceived me. You abused your own citizens and ignored their voices. You took advantage of a situation in order to profit from it. I have seen you suffer an ongoing tirade of well-deserved criticism. In spite of all this you are still a human being and as such, I forgive you and I hope you will have grown from this.

I Live in a Very Fearful Time

I live in a very fearful time. Everywhere across the globe, in every pocket of society, there exists a rampaging growth of civil unrest. Man turned against Man in a battle for power, control and money. The very fabric of society is falling apart; the seams have long since been unraveled. The economies of the world continue to fall and some have collapsed resulting in mass poverty, homelessness and an overwhelming sense of betrayal. Even America, for all its wealth and posterity, bleeds debt like a hemophiliac.  I live in a very fearful time indeed.

                 

Sparks of revolution, fueled by an anger caused by corruption and greed, have begun to spring up in droves: Egypt, Spain, Greece, England, Canada, America, Iceland, and Australia to name but a small number. The people cry out in rage against banking giants and multinational corporations. They demand that their governments end oppression and slavery through financial debt. And it is not just the few, nor young. From all walks and waves of life they gather to share in their feelings of abuse and betrayal and together, in solidarity, they give voice to those feelings and demand justice. I live in a very fearful time.

               

Fear is a strong emotion; one of the strongest that, as human beings, we can experience. One we share with each and every individual human on the planet without ever having met them. We have all experienced fear, and it matters not the situation for fear is fear. And it is said that fear breeds hatred, this, very sadly, I cannot refute but offer only that it is how we learn to deal with our fear that determines its end result. The current method in which our governments deal with their people is fear and propaganda so it should come as no surprise that it is such a commonly held belief, and practice, that fear breeds hatred. It is what we are taught. However, there are greater, stronger results of fear. The forefront of which is courage and it is courage which should always be the end result to fear: courage to know; courage to learn; courage to understand; courage to share; courage to love; courage to accept. Courage should be the only product of fear; sadly, we are taught rather, that it is to hate. I live in a very fearful time.

                              

For too long we have been imposed with unfair banking practices to which our governments turn a blind eye. The laws that are meant to protect and serve the people no longer protect their interests. Laws are now drafted and created to command and govern the people and assist in the pillaging of their wealth by the private bankers of the world. The world and each and every country which exists upon this planet is no longer run by its elected or by its regime, it is run by the banks. Military, government, police, education, production, distribution, religion; all run, not by the people, but by the banks. For truly, the members of these associations are simply, a sample of representatives from the people of a particular society and when these become corrupt it necessarily reflects that society itself is corrupt and needs to be repaired; reshaped. I live in a very fearful time.

                 

We are breaching on a very important time in the history, and more importantly the future, of mankind. Each country harbors its own armies and weapons; many of massive destruction. As social order continues collapse; as greed and corruption infect the mediums in which we are raised and educated; as financial debt continues to enslave the people; so too will the growth of fear and anger exponentially. The difference between our great social revolution and of those of times past is that there is, for the first time in history, the technology, the logistics and the manpower to subjugate us all. I live in a very fearful time indeed.

                

 Solutions have been brought forth by a few. One group claims that a return to a Gold Standard with money will help eliminate greed and corruption and stabilize economies, returning us to a standard of living we are more accustomed to with a promise to make us wealthier than ever before and eliminate debt. Another pushes forth the Resource Based Economy which includes the abolition of money in all its forms and a proper distribution of capital and resources based on the needs of given area. Please bear in mind these ideas are much more in depth and complex than I could possibly ever hope to give them credit for here.  There then remains those who wish to keep things the way they are; the people who benefit from this slavery. What is the solution then, when man is bred to corruption through fear and deception? When the society in which he lives is no longer fit for living? I live in a fearful time.

Homelessness is Not a Choice

Maslow's Hierarchy of Need

Today I will be volunteering at CKDU radio during their Homelessness Marathon. I thought that would be a good time to share with you an idea about homelessness I had. Its an idea, always open to change; it's not the end all, but it is a start.

There seems to be a lot of criticism over the methods in which we can help the homeless/impoverished. The basic argument about providing things for them is that under that sort of system, people would abuse the generosity and kindness of the community at large and would fail to find success in their lives but instead take advantage of the system to get by with as little effort as possible. I do not disagree with that statement. Many people would take advantage of this sort of system; initially.

The problem here isn’t what we commonly attribute it to: that human beings are inherently selfish and greedy in nature. It is, in fact, the opposite. Humans are empathetic and social by nature. We have simply created a social environment that promotes selfishness and greed. Why should we expect anyone to act differently than that when presented with an opportunity to be supported? Because they have the ability to do so, it just requires time and patience.

Most of us live a life of privilege and are therefore incapable of truly empathizing with the impoverished/homeless. We, according to Maslow (above), already, for the most part, have fulfilled the first three to four stages of his hierarchy. This is not the case with the people we speak of. In fact most of them have not even achieved the very first level of the hierarchy with is the basic necessities of life. It isn’t until we accomplish the final stage of Maslow’s chart that a shift in consciousness can even begin to occur.

At the final stage of Maslow’s hierarchy, we finally arrive at a point of development where we start to address our own morality. It is here where we, as individuals, begin to understand the underlying ethics required to co-exist peacefully and with respect in a true community. It requires ascending through each individual level of Maslow’s chart before we can even begin to expect a change in the thought processes of an individual.

With this in mind, it is no wonder that society loses its patience to frustration when attempting to address these important issues. Many of these people have to travel through 20+ years of personal and social development that they have been denied for so long. Most of us have developed along these guidelines over the initial part of our lives; these people have either had their development cut short or never been given the opportunity to develop. It is no wonder that in our world of instant gratification and visual sound-bites that we no longer carry the patience, or desire, to spend the proper resources to assist in the development of these people.

After having been a member of the Occupy Nova Scotia movement through the length of its occupation and beyond, this is one of the many things I have observed and taken away from my experiences. People do not understand the exact nature of the problem. They live in the ignorance that these people should ‘just get jobs’ or simply ‘try harder’ and they could fix their problems. Many people believe that these people are ‘lazy’, ‘dangerous’, ‘criminals’ or ‘deserve their lot in life’ when in fact, again, this is wrong. These people, these human beings, are the same as you and I. They think, they breathe, they feel, they exist. Their problem is one of a lack of needs.

 

Will providing them with free food, shelter and education solve the problem? In the short term, no it will not. It will in fact, possibly increase the amount of system abuse that we currently see with the way things work now. People will take advantage of the privileges given to them. However, in the long term, if we, as a people, provide patience, understanding and respect as these individuals are guided/helped through the basic hierarchy of needs, we will begin to see a change in their thoughts process. They will begin, slowly, to change the way they view their environment, the society they live in and the people that surround them. Given the proper opportunities, they will find themselves moving away from their former lives or selves and begin transforming into capable, productive, but most importantly, HAPPY individuals. This change will reflect in their behaviour and attitudes. This will lead to the lessening of abuse of a ‘welfare’ type system designed to create an effective change and solution to poverty/homelessness.

Blog Post Series #2 "Addiction": Addiction: John The Addict

Hi, my name is John, and I am an addict. Words that, as a child, no one would have imagined hearing coming from my lips. I would like to say that I bowed to peer pressure; I would like to say that I was a victim; I would like to say that I had no control; I would like to say those things, but I cannot. My life as an addict was always a personal choice every step of the way. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. The reason behind this new blog series isn't to 'expose' the skeletons in my closets; I have long since cleaned house. No, the purpose is to share and to educate you out of my readers who may know addicts; who have no real understanding or education of the reality of addiction; and mostly to you, who may be suffering through addiction as we speak. There is hope. This is my story and the circumstances surrounding my addiction (circumstances NOT excuses).

I am not sure at what point in my life that I truly became an addict. My best guess is that it began as a act for acceptance from my friends when I began drinking at the age of 15; I also took up smoking cigarettes. Although, it should be noted that it was not until many years later that the real addiction that almost cost me my friends, my family and my very life (which has had many of those "I should be dead." kind of moments).

I will avoid some of the more disturbing and graphic details of my addiction not because I am ashamed of them, rather for space constraints. At 17, I actually gave up drinking. I was, at that time, an avid recreational smoker of marijuana (which from here on out will be treated differently than 'drugs'. I will make clear this statement in a later post dedicated to the subject) and though I did smoke marijuana, it was not as frequent or in much a quantity as my few years with alcohol had been.

Me, Age 20

At 19, after the death of my son, I moved to Calgary, Alberta. Life was acceptable for the first two years I lived there with my girlfriend. At 21, my girlfriend of six years cheated on me and moved back to Nova Scotia. I moved in with four friends between the ages of 18-20. It is here perhaps, where things finally took off. Now on my own, single and having a ridiculous income providing me with more money in my pocket than I had and have ever had, I was surrounded by young, teen-aged party animals. I took to them immediately. Maybe it was the release or maybe it was the thrill of the excitement, I am not sure, but whatever the cause, I was now headed down a very dark road.

I spent the next three years drinking and experimenting with various other drugs. My drug of choice, outside of the booze, was ecstasy. At the peak of my abuse in Alberta, I went on a 30 day ecstasy marathon. Somewhere in there I was thrown from the hood of a car at around 30km/h. Though I suspected I sustained some major head trauma, it would be four years before I saw a doctor (no permanent damage was caused; my head is like a rock thankfully). Around the turn of 2003 into 2004 my new drug of choice was cocaine. I had met a dealer who, it turns out, didn't have many friends. Booze and cocaine would become an every day part of life.

I moved back to Nova Scotia in June of 2004. I took up where I had left off in Alberta, at least with the booze. Cocaine is much harder to find in a small town. Alcohol would be a big part of my life for the next few years. I eventually arrived at a point where I lived with my best friend Bryan (you will get to know him next month), I worked at the busiest bar in town and our friends lived in the other two apartments in our building. Things were great.

In 2005, things went really awry in my life. An argument over women and money led to the ending of a friendship like no other I have ever had the grace to experience. I was suffering a deep depression due to excessive drinking (though I didn't know it at the time) and due to the upcoming anniversary of the death of my son. I was alone in sorrow and though I have omitted stories that would have your heart breaking and oozing with sympathy, I in no way am making excuses for my actions. At every turn it was my conscious choice; life offered me many roads, it was I who chose to walk the ones I did. The point is that this is when I was introduced to Crack.

I won't lie. I had done it a few times in Alberta and that was part of the reason that on my 25th birthday, alone, inebriated and depressed, I sought out the one individual who I knew could locate some 'hard' drugs. Crack was what he could get so Crack is what I wanted to do. From the moment I inhaled for the first time, my fate was already sealed. I cannot explain in words the type of euphoria one gets from such a high but needless to say it is enough to completely blind you to any problems you thought you might have had.

This addiction carried on for over a year. I lied, I stole, I hurt, I put lives at risk and I destroyed (a head on collision with an electric pole was what finally got through to my brain that I had a serious problem despite having already gone through rehab once already). I put many people through Hell and back for the sake of my addiction and this, this is important for anyone dealing with addiction in any sense: addiction is the most selfish 'disease' (it is recognized as a disease by the CMA and AMA. I neither agree or disagree with their acknowledgement) period. I am happy to report to you that through the strongest and most caring network of family and close friends that I have been able to overcome my addiction since 2007 (5 years and counting!!). My success, though not unheard of, was completely dependent upon that network I spoke of. Without it...well, we would not be having this discussion.

Now that I have, as briefly as possible, brought you up to speed on my experience with addiction I want you to know why. I am sharing this so that you know in my future posts that I know what I'm talking about. I have lived it and breathed it. It is also another piece to the puzzle of who I am and how I came to be. To say that overcoming my addiction was a struggle is to sell myself, and those who supported me, short of the accomplishment. The next post in this series will be to share with you the logic and mindset of an addict with the purpose of demonstrating how 'John the Person' is completely different and separated from 'John the Addict'.

I realize that addiction is a very difficult thing to understand and I hope that those reading who have predetermined ideas about it will take a moment to hear the voice of someone who has been to and seen what true Hell is and made it back alive to share his story. The biggest error in judgment you can make is to think that addicts can just stop being addicts; they cannot, but I will save that for the next post in the series.

I hope that as I move forward with this series that you will learn something about addiction, learn how to identify it, but most importantly, learn how to deal with it. It is no easy task to expose one's great failures in life but to quote a great and ancient wise-man, Confucius:

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."

I fell a long way and it's been a long climb back up and though my life is not where I want it to be, it is only because I have not arrived where I am going yet.

Next

Hope: Burden or Gift?

Hope. I am sure that I do not need to go into any great detail explaining to you what it means to hope. We have all hoped for something. As children perhaps you hoped for a special present or as an adult perhaps you hoped to get that raise at work. Regardless of your age, you have hoped. I also, have hoped.

I am a self-described hyper-emotional individual who, for some reason, experiences the emotional to such an extreme that at times it manifests itself into a physical reality. Under even the most subdued of circumstances I feel emotion on a level which seems much more in depth than most. Hope is the feeling to which I have the most significant connection. 

Hope has been my best friend more times than I care to imagine. My hope has carried me through some of the darkest times of my life. When others may have been broken, my hope was my strength and carried me through untold trials and tribulations that would have broken even some of the strongest people of character I have met. Hope has been my only defense against the despair I feel when I pick up a newspaper or flip on the news.

I carry within me a small spark; a fractal of light which urges and pushes me forward in life. Without it, I am certain that I would have given in long ago. But hope has carried me through. My infinite amount of hope has provided me with the greatest surprises and greatest joys of my life. What greater sense of reward is there than to have your hopes answered?

This infinite hope, however much it has aided me in my struggles, has also been party to many of the causes of my pain. When one has an infinite amount of hope it can be the greatest joy a person may experience but it also leaves you open and vulnerable to the deepest sense of suffering one can know as well. My endless hope has set me up to experience some very terrible disappointments.

When things seem certain, when the outcome seems destined, we still hope for the result we are sure to receive. It is under these circumstances that hope stops being your strength and becomes your weakness. When you pour your hope into everything that you do, it is easy to leave yourself defenseless against disappointment and suffering.

Hope. It is my greatest blessing and my most lethal enemy. I have tried to decide which of the two it is and when it comes down to all the I have experienced, good and bad, I have no choice but to state that hope truly is more of a blessing than a curse. To feel joy is a greater feeling than to feel sorrow; to feel love is greater than to feel hate; to feel compassion is greater than to feel nothing.

I embrace my gift despite the pain I allow myself to be exposed to. Why would I permit myself to suffer? Because of all the things I have hope for, none is so great as the hope I have for Human Beings. We have such amazing potential; possess such incredible knowledge; experience such a beautiful existence. Though I am constantly aware of the atrocities being committed around the world, I carry my spark, my beacon of light in the dark and stormy seas of life not for my own benefit. No. I carry this gift, this burden, to share it with people. I carry it so that in their times of despair, when all hope seems lost, when they have given in to the pain and suffering, that they need not have hope for I will have it for them. I move forward under the sometimes unsustainable weight as an example to those who would despair so that they know there is hope; that there is love; that someone does care.

I hope. You should too.

Words of Encouragement

There are some universal truths (at least they are truths in my world) I would like to share with YOU (yes YOU, not you as in everyone, but YOU as in YOU who are specifically reading this right now at this very moment) so that when you are facing adversity in life, when an obstacle seems too great to overcome, when you feel as though all hope is lost, or when the darkness seems to be viciously tearing away at all signs of light in your life that you will find comfort in thinking of some of these. Take them to heart; take them with you wherever you go:

1. You are a miracle of nature. Your very existence goes against such astronomical odds that after 2000+ years we are still 'alone' in the universe.
2. You are a unique individual. You may not know how; you may never know how but you are. Your uniqueness can be extremely self-evident to yourself and all others or it can remain a hidden force, never to be seen, only to be felt. You may, for most of your life, seem just like everyone else or average (and for most aspects of your life, for most people, this is true) but that does not negate the uniqueness of your mind and thus yourself.
3. You have a right to live. Sound redundant? It isn't. Once you realize that YOU have a right to live, then you come to understand that so does everybody else. With this knowledge, how would you, how could you, ever do harm to another?
4. Empathy is the natural state of Humanity, not Apathy (Caring vs Not Caring). Human beings are social creatures. You can embrace your fellow man without losing your uniqueness as it is our uniqueness within a collective that provides for progress.
5. All Humanity is equal in its entitlement to life.
6. All Humanity is entitled to equitable and fair use of the Earth and the Earth's resources.
7. You CAN make a difference. You don't have to be Oprah; you don't have to be Ellen; you don't have to be Tim Tebow; you don't have to be Sidney Crosby. No, you can and DO make a difference by just being kind and thoughtful. Try not to be insulted (for I include myself here at times) by this but we do not know how to be nice. We have been taught to ignore. It's OK. It's not your fault but it is now your choice. Give an elderly person a hand with groceries or help them across the street; call a friend just to say hello and wish them a happy day; SMILE at people; give to the homeless (or if you are someone who is leery about giving money, ask them what they might need and go buy it personally); thank a veteran; hold open a door; etc. You may be thinking that these aren't going to change the world; they will. The world did not become non-caring overnight (we used to care a lot) and thus, it cannot return to caring overnight. It is a process and it starts with YOU.
8. No matter how bad it gets; no matter how much violence there is; no matter how oppressive a regime may become; despite the loss of all rights and freedoms; no matter what the insurmountable odds: Good will always triumph in the end. Even when all seems lost, the Good will carry on in the minds of Humanity and that sort of idea never dies.

I urge you to always remember that no matter how bad things get, your life has value. You have value. We all do. Sometimes it is hard to see the value in ourselves or the value we carry in the eyes of others. This is especially true in times of despair; times of darkness. You are not only permitted, but it is necessary for you to question yourself at times in order for you to grow. Just remember that no matter what answers or solutions you arrive at, none are so important as to keep on living. 

Sometimes it is harder to see the value in others when we constantly are at ends with them, but rational discussion and debate is one of the purest forms of creativity. I would like to think that all of you will go out at once and start spreading kindness but I know this won't be the case. Most will read this entry and go back to whatever web page led them here and I am alright with that. Why does it not bother me to think that not a single person will leave this post changed? Because the seed has been planted and the change is already beyond your control. 

The world is a wonderful place, let's enjoy it side by side instead of head to head. 

The Illusion of Ownership

This is not about conspiracy; it's not about theory; and it is most definitely truth. The points I will be making will be focused around Canada as that is where I am from and what I know. It should be noted that I am pretty certain that many of the points I will raise will hold true in most other countries I imagine. So let's talk about ownership first.

What does it mean to 'own' something? Merriam-Webster defines 'own' as: to have or hold as property. We can work with this definition. Property in this particular case means any form of physical, tangible or material object which you lay claim to or possess. So, now that we know what it means to own something, let's take a look at just one of the things that you think you own but in reality you do not. Let's start with something simple; something that most people own: a car.

So, you bought a car. You managed to save up the money to be able to pay for your car outright. You went to the dealership, test drove a car and then sat down, filled out the paperwork and paid for it in full. It's now your car; or is it? Well, when you paid the dealer for the car, you also paid taxes on it. Before you have even left the lot, you are not only paying for the actually vehicle itself, but through taxes you are now paying extra just for the luxury, the privilege to own your vehicle. 

So now the car is all paid up but it doesn't quite belong to you yet. Before you can safely say you own your vehicle in full, you have to drive down to the Department of Motor Vehicles and pay to have your vehicle registered and to pay for license plates. Once you've registered your vehicle with the government, it is now yours, right? No. Now that the government knows you have a vehicle, you need to pay for insurance in case you get into a car accident. So, next stop is heading down to the Insurance agent to get some car insurance. Not too bad, few hundred dollars a year (you've been a really good driver).

Now we have paid for our vehicle, registered it, insured it and we have a license. NOW we must own that vehicle right? Still not there yet. Your vehicle also requires an inspection so that you know it's safe to drive, so down to Canadian Tire to get inspected, another small price to pay for ownership. Finally, your car has passed inspection and you're good to go. You jump behind the wheel of your car and hit the road. Ownership is great!

Have you ever tried NOT jumping through one of these hurdles? Ever try not paying insurance, registering your vehicle, getting a license or having your vehicle inspected and get pulled over by a  police officer? You know what happens don't you? That's right, you lose your vehicle. Not only do you lose your vehicle, however temporary, you must now pay for all the costs associated with whichever one of those things you neglected. Fines, impound fees, court costs and any other miscellaneous costs incurred and then you may or may not get your vehicle back, depending on your situation.

Thinking back to what we defined what 'own' means you can see quite clearly that you in fact in no way own your vehicle. You must always pay to have it registered every two years, you must have it inspected every two years (opposite to registration), you must renew your license every five years and you must ALWAYS have insurance. So tell me, how can you claim to own your vehicle if you are paying for it your entire life? And we won't even get into the gas, the repairs, the maintenance and any other money you will spend to maintain you vehicle.

This false logic they have used has tricked you into believing that you have private ownership over your things. You do not. You can see this ruse at work with almost anything. Your house? Same deal. Try not paying property taxes. You can even check the 'Terms and Conditions' of most anything you've purchased that you now own and you might be surprised to discover that most companies reserve the right to take back their product at any time at their own discretion. Still think you own your things? You don't. The illusion, however, belongs to you one hundred percent. You can enjoy the illusion or you can trade up for the real thing; the cost? Standing up for yourself and your fellow human beings. 

The government owns you. They own your transportation, they own your home, they own your resources and they own your income. Slaves cannot own; slaves cannot hold titles or deeds; slaves cannot travel freely and without constraint (ever try to cross a border without a Passport?); slaves must pay their masters to live. You are a slave but like any slave, the bondage you were born into is your choice. You can choose to be free at any time; choose wisely.

Sunday Afternoon Poetry

I was intending on taking the weekends off from blogging but as I was going through some things, I found some poems I had written over the years. As I was reading over some of them, I began to realize how some of them resonated with the current state of affairs in our communities, our countries, and our world. After going through a dozen or more I decided that I would like to share some of them with you. I would also like to share with you some of my favorite poems I have come across over the years. With all this beautiful poetry at my fingertips it was an easy decision to create a weekly Sunday Afternoon Poetry blog. For many people it is a day to relax; a day to enjoy; a day to inspire. I hope you will find inspiration and share your inspiration with others. 

The first poem I will be sharing with you is one of my own. Please enjoy.

The Prize

Two men walking down a beaten road,

Stop for a minute to rest their load.

As one looked down he happened to see,

A diamond resting near an apple tree.

He reached down for it but to his surprise,

Another hand where the diamond lies!

Each one looked at the other in hate

And just like that it was already too late.

They fought and bickered over what had been found

And stayed there for days with the gem in the ground.

Neither would sleep and neither would leave

And then the jewel began to grieve.

It could not see what the fuss was for;

After all there were many more.

But the men remained with their treasured prize

Until finally one of them realized:

That both would remain until they died

And only one of them was left alive.

So one plotted murder and the other plotted theft,

But when both men awoke, the diamond had left.

They looked at each other in a powerful glare

And the diamond sat watch from inside its lair.

The battle was fierce and continues today,

How it will end is for any to say;

But one thing is certain for all who take part,

And that was determined right from the start:

In the end when it's over and it's all said and done,

The diamond remains, belonging to none.

-John Thibeau, 08/Apr/2002

Next

Michael Edward Purdy

You don't know him. He won't be famous. He won't ever be anything but the memory I carry with me and the fantasies I have in which I see the what could haves and the what ifs. Who is Michael? Michael is the greatest joy I have ever known and also the greatest sadness I have ever known. Michael is...was my son.

Michael Edward Purdy

When I was 17 years of age, my then girlfriend and I endured a rather terrible string of incidents in regards to pregnancy. Up to this point, things had been a little careless but we had sat down and discussed things and took the proper precautions necessary to prevent a pregnancy. The sad irony about the rest of this story is that for two years leading up to then I am certain that any other couple would have had at least one, maybe two pregnancies. To say we were careless would be an understatement. Regardless.

One evening while I was working I received a phone call from my brother. He was at the hospital with my girlfriend. She had been suddenly stricken with a nauseating sickness. I left work and went straight to the hospital as any good boyfriend would. When I got there, she was waiting in the emergency room, sitting hunched over. Her cheeks puffed, red and tear stained. It turns out she wasn't sick; well so to speak. She had had a miscarriage. Now, when I was very young I decided that above anything else, my life's ambition would be to have a family of my own. If that meant giving up on all other dreams and desires, that was the one I would choose. A family. My girlfriend? Only dream was to be a mother. So you can imagine the devastation we both felt, even as young would-be parents. Little did we know that that devastation was but a micron of foreshadowing of things to come.

We managed to overcome the hurt and move forward. I have talked to my doctor about this on numerous occasions, and he is the same doctor who delivered me into this world, and he also is a little perplexed by our chemistry I suppose, for lack of better explanation. You see, despite the fact that we used contraceptives during as well as her using the birth control pill we somehow went through four more miscarriages over the next several months. Five. Five conceptions that should not have occurred (by all rights); five times having to deal with the loss of an unborn child. I swear by my life and my love of it that this is no lie. My family will back this up, as well as my former girlfriend and her family. Then, something happened.

Now 18 and my girlfriend pregnant the sixth time, the pregnancy is absolutely perfect. In fact I retell this story sometimes and many people are amazed at the ease of her pregnancy. She gained weight almost according to the 'textbook'. She never once experienced morning sickness; never once had unusual cravings; never bloated; never became 'moody'. In fact, in retrospect she was nicer during her pregnancy than at any time during our six year relationship. Even her delivery was remarkably smooth.

May 21st, 1999 my girlfriend goes to the hospital early in the morning where she is experiencing labor pains. They admit her as she is due to deliver at any time. By mid-afternoon they induce labor. I won't include the full details but what I will share is this. At 17:35 my then girlfriend was wheeled into the delivery room. At 17:52 she gave birth naturally to my son: Michael Edward Purdy; a baby boy weighing 9lbs3.5oz. To say that the experience of watching my son being born was the single greatest moment of my life would be by far the greatest understatement of my life. Men, if you have never had children I give you this advice that I strongly urge you to follow: be there to see the birth of your children; nothing, absolutely nothing else is more important. That moment, the moment he came into this world...well, that's something that I just don't have the words to share with you; you will have to either remember it for yourself or imagine what it might feel like because there is no other feeling that compares. Regardless of what my destiny from that point forth was of no concern to me any longer; I had, at the age of 18, accomplished my one true and unwavering dream: I had a family and I could sustain that family.

My son was me; I am him. Our baby pictures once hung side by side in our living room. When people came to visit they would comment on how cute his baby pictures were. The looks on their faces was priceless when one of us would politely point out that the one was of me at a young age. The resemblance was remarkable; almost uncanny. By the time he was five months of age he had take his first few steps and, this pains me to say because I was not there, he spoke his first word: Dada. That is the happiest I think I have been in my entire life. What I would give to have made it last for just one more day.

On October 16th, 1999, shortly after midnight, my parents entered the restaurant where I was working. I knew with just a glance. I knew. I knew. I knew. Nothing was said except by my boss which in my memory was nothing more than a sorry and a go. We picked up my girlfriend and drove to the hospital. I knew. The doctor came out. I knew. He asked for the mother; she was sitting in a wheelchair. The priest had got there at some point. All the doctor was able to get out was "I'm sorry." The absolutely most heartbreaking moment I ever bore witness to happened some few minutes after. We were brought in to confirm and well...because I think we needed to. When we came out, my girlfriend, a professed atheist, looked up from her wheel chair, shoulders slumped, hair disheveled, burning-red, tear-stained cheeks, eyes semi-swollen from tears and with a voice that shook as she spoke and broke the silence of the moment, she looked to my priest and asked, "Is Michael going to Hell because I don't believe in God?" I do not know if there is a God but if there was, I am sure that God must certainly have shed a tear in that moment. I have never been able to shake that feeling.

Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) or Crib Death as it may be more commonly known as. There is no explanation. There are no signs. There is no answer. This, this lack of answer drove inside my brain like a splinter for my mind. How does one come to terms with that? Its been almost 13 years. My son would be a teenager soon. I tell people that I have come to terms with it but not really. How can you?

Michael Edward Purdy lives only in the memories of my mind and in the fantasies I create of what could have been. And he is everything he ever wanted to be in my dreams; he has never had to endure heartache; he has never known sorrow; he is good and righteous; and his father is so very, very proud of him.

Love and appreciate all that you have each moment of each day lest you lose the opportunity to do so.