Can We Do Anything About the State of the World?

Someone told me a long time ago that when dealing with this world of cancel culture and social media, it is best to not write anything that can upset anyone and that means staying far away from politics. This is not a political blog. It’s just that I’m having trouble breathing these days. Scrolling through social media is like scrolling through a landmine of fear, hate and divisiveness, littered with the trivial, the mundane and consumerism. Young, old, and in between are affected by decisions our leaders make and sometimes we have absolutely no control over the decisions being made around us.

The relationship between the US and Canadian governments is strained. From my doom scrolling on social media, I’ve read that some Canadians wouldn’t mind Canada becoming the 51st state. Others say ‘never' and that this is highly unlikely, but history shows us that the most unimaginable events are possible. 

I remember when I was learning about Canadian history and the war of 1812, I used to think that since this happened in the past, it could happen again.  My imagination would take me on a frightening journey of this possible war, wondering how we would navigate such an event, since many of us have friends and family on both sides of the border. Without going into the long and detailed history of the war of 1812 between the US and Britain (which included Canada), the US invaded Canada several times. Interestingly, the origins of this war started with the conflict in Europe that caused Britain to adopt measures that angered the United States.  

At the time that I was learning about Canadian history, I was teaching English to newcomers. Many of my students were refugees. I remember wondering, “what if something unimaginable happened like a war between the US and Canada and we became refugees? Where would we go or be sent? How would it be to start over in a country where maybe we didn’t speak the language and couldn’t get jobs to provide for our families? Would my family even survive such an ordeal?” I looked around my classroom at my students. They didn’t control the events that led them to refugee status. Voting didn’t matter. Standing up and making your voice heard didn’t matter. The leaders in power dictated the course of history. If it happened there, it could happen here. If it already happened in 1812, it could happen again.

This doesn’t mean one shouldn’t vote, be an active participant in one’s community and try to make the world a better place. It means that sometimes we really have no control over the decisions that are being made around us. It means that when we agonize over what might happen and what seems to be happening, our bodies go into a state of fear (the fight, flight or freeze response) and it leaves us exhausted. Yes, we are affected by tariffs, job losses, economic instability and the possibility that the world as we know it might change drastically. At the same time, we have to look after ourselves more than ever. Stress physically affects the body with headaches, muscle pain, chest pain, fatigue, stomach upsets, sleep problems and getting sick due to weaker immune systems. Stress also affect us mentally with anxiety, lack of focus and motivation, memory problems, feeling overwhelmed, anger and sadness or depression.  

I’m not saying we should ignore the news, nor stop standing up for causes important to us. I’m saying guard where your attention goes. Find time to socialize in person with friends and family. Do things you love. Continue to live, improving your skill set and employability. Pretend you live in a world where smart phones don’t exist for at least a few hours a day. Go outside. Walk. Hike. Run. Play cards. Sew. Sail. Scuba dive. Write poetry. Build a train set. Make a new recipe. Connect with friends. What I’m saying is, live. Live like today is the only day you’ve got.

Walk outside.

Dance!

Laugh together.

Eat some ice cream.

Live and love.

Spend time with a friend.

Reflections On Resolutions

I love making New Year’s Resolutions. There is a part of me that truly believes that in 365 days, I could be a brand new person, a person who has cast off all the bad habits and ways of living in the previous year and embrace a completely new me. I look at the coming months on the blank calendar and imagine how many days I’ll go to the gym, drink more water, earn more money, write more, and be present more, so that by the end of the year, I’ll have accomplished everything. Every single thing. My old habits of procrastination and sometimes sloth-like behaviour will have disappeared, the old fears completely replaced by this courageous new person. Me! 

I came close to this during lockdown. When the world was shut-in and I was forced to be quiet, I had time to slow down and think. My husband and I cooked healthy meals. I started exercising and was sticking to the regime. I healed an injured shoulder by consistently doing online physiotherapy. I thought I had the answer. Just do it. It will eventually become a habit once the systems are in place. I even did a talk to youth about setting goals. A young woman asked me: what if I just can’t seem to exercise? I talked about accountability - having a friend check in. I talked about overcoming inertia - just start. How I wish I could go back to that young woman and tell her I only had half the story. 

I wish I could tell that young woman that I thrived during the peace and quiet of lockdown, that all was well before my husband got laid off and once that happened, I abandoned exercise and sat in bed most nights eating caramel coated popcorn and watching Netflix. I wish I could tell her that the myth of three weeks for a new habit to form is just a myth and that for some people it’s six months or even a year. I wish I could also tell her that our brains are wired to stay put and to stay safe. When we decide to embark on any new venture, there may be excitement and an earnest desire to go for it, but there is also the brain sneaking in messages like: “It’s too much trouble. It won’t work. It will be too hard. You will probably fail.” 

It is January  2025. I have the exact same resolutions I’ve had since last year. As a matter of fact, my resolutions haven’t changed much since my twenties. I know this because I have stacks of diaries dating back to the 1990s. On one hand, it could appear that I have completely failed in my endeavours. On the other hand, it shows what I want has remained more or less the same and I’m striving for the same things. Sometimes progress is slow. It can take a lifetime. For as long as I can, I’ll never stop trying. It will always be a goal to exercise more, to eat better and for me, to write more.

If I could reach that young woman, I’d tell her to write down her goals. Some days, she’ll succeed and some days, she won’t. Either way, it’s okay. Labelling ourselves as lazy, a procrastinator or even sloth-like as I did is unhelpful and untrue. The body needs time to recharge. Recharge in your own way. I’d tell her to trick the brain and not go all out at once. If the goal is to walk every day, start by walking for ten minutes, not two hours. If the goal is to write a book, don’t even think about the finished product - just think about one short paragraph. If it’s to eat healthy, celebrate each time you make a good choice. The key here is not to guilt ourselves for our failures, but to focus on our successes. 

As I turn my focus to the coming new year and looking at the empty calendar squares, I am making the same resolutions to exercise and write as I have always done. Maybe this will be the year that I stick to them. One thing is for sure - I’ll never stop trying. 

The Importance of RTFQ

When we’re young and if we’re lucky, an adult may come into our lives who changes the trajectory of our path for the better. One of these people for me and my highschool friends was a man called Peter Young. We met him because a group of us were not doing well in Accounting. The teacher didn’t seem to be able to impart her knowledge to

us and she was often absent. My father said he knew a smart man and he’d ask him to tutor us. Back then, we were preparing for what is known as the CXC exam, formerly known as O’ levels. 

We knew at once that Mr. Young was different. For one, he treated us like we were actual people (meaning he didn’t judge, discipline, reprimand, scold, berate, warn or make us feel inadequate for not knowing the material). His words emboldened us rather than frightened or restricted us. This was so long ago that I can’t remember what we actually talked about except that when we left his place, we were light-hearted and ready to take on not only Accounting, but the world. We believed we would pass Accounting and we believed we handle this confusing thing called life. We offered up our teenage problems and he guided us. He shared his life stories and we, enraptured, listened intently. He offered us a small glass of red wine each and told us that we could master anything we put our minds to. My friend Jo told me that Mr. Young was the only person in her life that made her feel worthy and capable. He was the only person who made her feel smart and good enough. For me, he made me feel that I didn’t have to be afraid of the numbers that swam before my eyes. All we had to do, he said, was, “RTFQ!” If we did this, we could solve anything. To this day, I remember RTFQ. READ THE F…. QUESTION. Read the full/f…king question! We laughed gleefully, but he was serious. If you don’t focus on the full question, you’ll miss important details. Take your time, don’t rush it, read it in full, answer thoughtfully. And when our minds jumped from conversation to conversation, from the lesson we were supposed to be learning to the social, he’d gently pull us back to the task at hand. 

We never wanted to miss these tutoring sessions, what we call in Jamaica extra lessons.  Our time with Mr. Young was too precious and valuable. When we took our CXC Accounting exams, we passed with flying colors. It was at 16 that the thought came into my head: “What if I’m not really dumb at math and numbers? What if everyone just needs the right teacher?” I’ve held on to this belief in my adult life as a parent and a former English as a Second Language teacher, setting the stage for learning, by instilling the mantra: you can do it. Of course you can. If one way isn’t working, try another way, another method, another teacher. And as always, remember RTFQ!

Mr. Young is at the forefront of my mind right now. My Aunt D told me Mr. Young wasn’t doing so well. He was in hospital in Jamaica. I was visiting Jamaica and wanted to see him, even if he wasn’t responsive. I had to wait though, as I had caught Covid and was waiting for a negative test. Unfortunately, it was too late. Mr. Young died on Monday morning, July 15, 2024.  My aunt called to tell me. I immediately called Jo. Since I’d left Jamaica over 20 years ago and hadn’t seen Mr. Young in a long time, I remember him as young, vibrant, with that welcoming smile that put you at ease. I was 16 again in his house, laughing and learning while his five-year-old son watched from the hallway. As I sobbed into the phone, Jo reminded me that Mr. Young lived a good long life. She had kept in touch with him all these years. He always sent bananas for her, especially when she was sick. I felt sad that immigration takes one away from all that is familiar and comforting, takes us away from the people who we love the most and the landscape that’s most familiar. I cried for roads not taken, yet felt solace that I had Jo with me to reminisce, to fill in the gaps, and to reflect and ultimately recover. The lessons Mr. Young imparted would remain a part of us, shaping us into the adults and mothers we are today: resilient in the face of life’s challenges. 

In this fast paced life, RTFQ applies even when the situation is not a question. I was in Jamaica, sunburnt like never before. My skin was cracked and crinkled like an alligator. I sent my daughter to the pharmacy to buy a good moisturizing lotion. She came back with a bottle and for days we rubbed it into our skin wondering why it was so thick and pasty and hard to apply. As my skin got dryer and dryer, I decided to take a good look at the bottle. Turns out all this time, we’d been rubbing body wash into our already dry and damaged skin. 

“But the woman in the pharmacy said everything on this shelf is lotion and Auntie examined it too,” said my daughter in surprise. “I guess I should have looked at it more closely to make sure.”

“Yes, we all should have, I said looking at my damaged skin. “In this case, nobody paid attention to the details. No one applied RTFQ!!” 

Peta-Gaye Nash