The hardest decision I ever made was walking past a bathroom when I had Montezuma’s revenge. I mean, what if the next bathroom was two blocks away? If you’re not familiar, Montezuma’s revenge, refers to a severe form of dysentery that travellers experience when they consume food or drink contaminated by bacteria or viruses they have never encountered before. The unique name, Montezuma’s revenge originates with an Aztec king, Montezuma II, who welcomed the Spaniards into his city as guests and served them food and drink, causing explosive diarrhea, and for some, death. Lucky me, I didn’t die.
Daily writing prompt
What’s the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make? Why?
Let’s face it, during the holiday season we all either wear our fat pants or wear a stretchy waistband; nobody wants to take Uncle Patric’s eye out with a button popping off at eighty miles an hour. In our family, the holiday season required plenty of food and social drinks. We traditionally included cabbage rolls and perishke with dill cream sauce for the big meal; these dishes represented the Ukrainian side of our heritage. We also had shortbreads and fruitcakes for dessert to represent our Scottish and English heritage. My mom, wearing her little apron with her large bottle of wine at her side, had been in charge for years. However, things change, and for many years now I have been the head hash slinger. I prepare all the finicky treats with as much swearing and cursing and moaning and groaning as possible. Recently, I have realized that this is merely an indication more gin and tonic is needed and represents all the alcoholics who fell out of our family tree at Christmas time, or rather into it. Cheers.
Daily writing prompt
Do you or your family make any special dishes for the holidays?
If my body did not require sleep, I am one hundred percent sure I would capture a nest of mice and measure up their teeny weeny feet to make them form-fitted Dutch-style clogs. Upon completion, I will set the nest of mice free where my husband is sleeping and wait and see how long it takes before the clog-thumping mice become more rambunctious than his snoring. Once he’s awake and I am thrown out of the house, I will commune with a local bat colony and learn echolocation, enabling me to run through the forest at night without hitting a tree. And that’s just the first night, who needs sleep?
Daily writing prompt
If you didn’t need sleep, what would you do with all the extra time?
Today, while I ponder over the difficult choice of whether I prefer the mountains or the beach, I have safety on my mind. Mountains have forever been a stellar subject for monologues about awe-inspiring beauty, and I agree they are. However, there is a beastly side to the mountain views. First off, narrow ridges and sharp cliffs provide plenty of opportunities to fall and kill oneself. Secondly, the generous nature of loose rocky slopes offer us all the opportunity to be buried free of charge. Thirdly, there are a variety of wild things in the deep, dark forests and inky crevices along the trails, perfectly safe, of course, until they are not. Yet all those little things will not frighten me off; mountains provide far more solace and opportunity for quiet musing than for death-defying walks.
Beaches, ahhh, beloved beaches— aren’t they a delightful oceanside retreat. What could possibly be the downside of such a glorious spectacle except for a tiny tsunami, which could possibly sweep us out to sea? And yet, besides daring to walk beside the largest serial killer in the world, water, we must also consider salt water, the most excellent conductor of electricity. The itty bitty lightening storm dancing in the distance might toast your tootsies too, not to mention, stop your heart. Last but not least, who doesn’t love strolling along the beach picking up seashells? Beware, my fellow crustacean lovers; there might be a poisonous snail living inside that cone shell. This small creature has 30 confirmed kills. But don’t let this stop you from enjoying your favourite sandy haunt; the odds of anything happening are slim.
But seriously, life’s too short to worry; just enjoy it all.
In the beginning, we started out as wide-eyed innocent babies hoping to be taken care of, because, well, to be frank, we were pretty useless. We enjoyed those days in the lap of luxury, yelling at our moms without getting in trouble, life was like a vanilla milkshake, sweet and dependable. As we grew and found our feet, we crawled and then tottered and then walked about. Eventually we discovered the joy of crayons, creating marks with wax sticks of color at first on paper, and then if unsupervised, on walls and books and table tops. Crayons then got switched out with washable markers, and then we discovered blue fingers were pretty cool too. If we were fortunate enough to have a stable home, our early years stayed pretty magical right up until we entered school. It was then, that society hit us square in the face with the blunt end of the crayon. We lost our sparkle of wonder through assimilation and sameness. The feeling of possibility was crushed by preconceived expectations of curriculum and hard and fast rules; line up little citizens, work hard but not too hard, have ideas, but not too fresh of ideas, and of course, don’t fool around. Please remember, the government and corporations are depending on you to become compliant, dead-eyed, spending above your means, tax paying citizens.
Cynical much? Yes.
Is everyone is thriving in the robot factory? Rise and shine, eat, have a big poop, go to work, eat lunch, work, come home, eat, watch TV or play video games. Oh damn, we need to replenish our supplies, buy food and toilet paper, wince at the price. Once in a while we might mindlessly buy a product we saw advertised a hundred times on TV, such as a box of super duper band-aids in the shape of a power saw. Then, while we wait in line at the till, we notice some other hogwash item we don’t need and purchase that too… unless we have filthy hogs and an oozing cuts. But who am I kidding, no one procures hogwash anymore, we purchase mammal-lather, it’s far more inclusive. Those are the little items though, perhaps the most expensive and pointless purchase is the ego investment. You know, when we buy something just because our neighbour has one. It’s a plot. We need to keep up with the Joneses, because we understand the Joneses set the bar. (Shhh, don’t tell anyone, but I heard through the grape vine that the corporations install Joneses on every block— two when sales are slow. The banks love the Joneses too, especially when it’s steak night.) The Joneses spark up their barbecue and soon the scent of barbecued beef enraptures the entire neighbourhood. Suddenly credit limits are raised all around suburbia and barbecues ignite simultaneously on every deck in the neighbourhood. Credit approval is now required upon purchase of beef.
There are times though, that we rouse enough energy from our dead-eyed corpse-like bodies to indulge in exercise, socializing or artistic endeavours. Then for a short span of time we become momentarily free from our robotic life and we feel light and energetic, in tune with our bodies and our surroundings. We fervently promise ourselves we will do this lovely soul lifting activity again. And then our well meaning promise gets obliterated through our scrolling compulsion on social media, Tic-Tok, twitter, Facebook, and then out of the blue, Tinder dings and there is a robotic request for meaningless soul sucking sex. Empty soul deflating information continuously being downloaded into our psyche. Is it any surprise that, bam! Suddenly, we are back on autopilot in a lacklustre state, dull-eyed and sniffing the neighbour’s steak from afar.
Truth? We are our own worst enemies. We get bogged down with all the well-meaning shoulds, coulds and woulds in our lives. It’s a stalling energy. I should do that. I would do that. I could do that. The trouble is when we use those words they all come with a big fat BUTT on the end. Oops I mean BUT. So, why do we hesitate? What keeps us from achieving? Is it worry or fear? Or a lack of focus? It isn’t easy to yank yourself from the daily grind. We have been expertly manipulated into compliant, dead-eyed, tax paying citizens who seldom look up from their immediate needs. First off, we need to understand how we lost the wonder of our existence? If we can answer that inquest, we will have a starting point to making better choices working towards the accomplishments we desire. Questions are the answer. Are we actively choosing the things we do or are we just choosing them because it is the way we’ve always done it? Change begins with self-reflection.
I have an idea. Let’s all buy a box of crayons, a massive box containing all the colours we can imagine. Now, let’s draw. Draw badly, draw and scratch and scribble and draw some more. Then write. Write badly, just write and write and write. Let’s keep going until we find our childlike joy and remember who we were before we were crammed into the dead-eyed tax paying citizen role. Let’s learn new things and new ways of doing things and most importantly, let’s’ be kind to one another. On that note, Happy New Year to us all! Let’s make this a year of bright eyed living and actively create the life we desire.
Tiny vibrations of communication travelled through the soil and entered my roots. Instantly, I knew a human had entered our grove—a woman ripe with child and terror. The thrumming energy in her footsteps became more and more intense until finally, I felt her latch onto my stout gray trunk. She tucked herself into my wide girth in an attempt to become invisible. The energetic connections that permeated everything enabled me to discern her condition. She pressed her forehead against my protective bark, her breath warming that spot with hot and ragged air. With our energies combined, I sensed the child inside of her, a light drumming of restlessness and distress fueled by its mother’s frenzy. The tremors of panic that radiated out from the woman were so intense that I swayed with the force of her feelings, and my leaves rustled in the stillness of the day.
I hadn’t seen a human in a long while, never-mind one who was carrying a child. Humanity’s inner blindness, greed, and authoritarian focus on everything outside of themselves had nearly led to humanity’s extinction. The forests survived and thrived. Regrettably, the majority of humans viewed nature as dumb, emotionless, and completely disconnected from them. They saw the trees as useful plunder to be killed and harvested. Humans could not see the forest for the trees. Blind to the fundamental truth that a single tree single tree is interwoven into the existence of all things through the invisible energetic field.
Long ago the entire world, including humans existed within a web of harmonious contentment and love. Oddly, the fruit of a tree broke the human connection to the All. It had been an abnormally cold spring, and the apple blossoms froze; summer delivered scant apples but one. One magnificent, shining red apple. All the people desired that apple. Day by day, as it ripened on the tree, it was clear not everyone would have a taste of apple that year. The people turned away from the abundance they had within the vibrational realm and instead focused on external things. Fear took hold—a fear of missing out, suspicion, and distrust of their kin. Who would receive the apple and who would feel diminished? An empty feeling of scarcity along with a possessive desire grew and ripened in the heart of mankind. Arguments arose over who deserved to eat the bright red apple. They judged each other. Hostility escalated into fights and threats of worse violence. The root cause was fear, the one emotion that disconnects us from each other and the infinite love of the All.
Despite the apple’s innocence, those who consumed it in the darkness of the night experienced an unfamiliar sense of guilt. It was a sad time for the forest, for nature; we missed connecting with our human kin. Now the humans were vibrationally blind, their eyes the only source of sight. Such a shrunken sight. After the people lost connection to the All, their reason for being vanished and a great hole of emptiness ached to be filled. In an attempt to heal, they accumulated things hoping to fill the void. They stopped cooperating and worked against one another, each claiming something or someone to fill the hollowness within. Ah, if only they would have sat in the quietness of our crooning grove. They might have recalled the truth encoded in the vibration of love; a never-ending circle connects us, invisible yet felt.
Ugh, and now, the sticky black emotion of fear and hate that radiated from this woman created such a heaviness within my core. The emotion began to turn the edges of my leaves brown. I reached out vibrationally to my fellow trees for aid in supporting this woman and child with an energetic realignment to ease my burden. As a team, we sent them calming frequencies. Eventually, her breath slowed, and the hate dissipated within the comfort of our silent thrum. The fear remained. Hmph, what to do with this woman who is so bulky with child and full of untethered fright? I turned my attention to my own infected state and concentrated on Mother Earth’s silent yet pattering song. I soon regained my sturdy, energetic self and sent out a question through my roots and into the soil, “Are sources of aggression near?”
Right away, the pulsating biome and water in the dirt replied. “A group of men, heavy and bristling with a craving need.”
Trees seldom moved intentionally. It required a tremendous of energy to shift our dense physical forms without the push of a wind. Yet, this situation required just that. Again I called upon the energies of my forest community for an extra boost; with that surge of power, I was able to drop a thick, sturdy branch down to the woman.
She stumbled back and yelped. The soil and biome beneath her bare feet sent waves of encouragement and implanted an image of her accepting the extended branch and then hiding within the dense leaves in my upper realm. Then the forest chimed in, draping the woman in an energetic blanket of blissful love. The woman grabbed her belly as her baby responded to the bliss, issuing forth a bubbling flow of happy kicks.
The child openly interacted with the energetic field; with the forest. It had not yet been corrupted by its human pack. The woman closed her eyes and yielded to her child’s invisible interaction and then grabbed hold of my outstretched branch. She stepped forward and clutched onto me with a tight grip. With the aid of my kin, I hoisted the woman onto a thick, sturdy limb up into the sanctuary of deepest green. Gratitude trickled forth from the woman, and the child soon napped within the tranquil nest.
In no time at all, to a tree, an eruption of hostile vibration, stomped into the shadow of my form. The men brushed past me; thick, dark energies dampened my golden light of connection. The violence emanating from them was both desperate and loud. The force of it made even the tiniest of my branches tremble, and I felt the woman stiffen.
Being the curious tree that I am, I sought to understand why these men were so intent on this woman, their bodies filled with such anger and panic. I opened to their darkness. Hmmm, it was the child. Every season brought fewer and fewer babies to their tribe, and this year, only one remained in its mother’s womb. Their treasured woman and baby had escaped, and they were desperate to capture her again.
However, the men would not find any trace of the woman in this forest; the soil had shifted away, obscuring any traces of bare feet passing this way. The men raced on, blind to the magnificent energy field all around them. And then they were gone.
My community shivered with excitement; leaves fluttered like hopeful wishes in the air. Such an eventful day. Never has there been a day like this in our woodland. The woman cautiously touched the energy field with her newly found inner senses, and her child smiled. Perhaps this would be a new beginning. Maybe the humans could be taught the ways of a tree, the ways of the earth, the ways of the All. Maybe these two humans will remember beyond the temptation of an apple into something much more.
“If anyone asked me, “What is hell?” I would answer, “The distance between people who love each other.”
The Minds Journal
Normal differences of opinions used to be an elephant in the room, slightly awkward, but dealt with in due time. These days, there isn’t merely an elephant in the room, but it’s more like a dinosaur, and the space between loved ones is enormous. Differences which typically would have been discussed are now off limits. Ears are closed and hearts are blocked. Severe damage and even the death of many relationships has become just one more type of casualty in the aftermath of the pandemic.
Discussion of the dinosaur was forbidden in many house holds; a stance supported by media and politicians who consistently inflated the size of the dinosaur during every morning and evening news cycle. Belittling and name calling others with a differing opinion was encouraged and even applauded. Many of those shamed individuals held their tongues and ignored their trepidations to keep the family peace. Sadly, when people feel unsafe to voice their concerns they inevitably become disconnected and distrustful of those relationships.
Some worried individuals did not heed the giant beast keeping them separated from their loved ones, they simply wiggled past the weighty dinosaur, and leapt into a discussion. Unfortunately, all too often it resulted in a challenging and fiery argument, sometimes erupting to the point of flaming eyes, spitting words, and boiling blood. The outcome of those types of conversations were doors slamming, phones clicking, and the dinosaur moving swiftly to take up even more space than before. Family members or friends ousted.
A civilized pachyderm would have been preferable, a dawdling being that mused self-reflectively while painting naked in the moonlight; an embarrassing but approachable subject. The Tyrannosaurus Rex, on the other hand, crashed around unpredictably flashing it’s ticker-tape death toll, and bellowing terrifying threats day and night; an intimidating subject to broach.
What a nightmare these last two years have been on kinship and connections. So many lives in ruins. I spoke with a lady outside a grocery store a couple months ago, she and her husband discussed the dinosaur regularly. It became an insurmountable block in their relationship. Their marriage ended. Name calling and shaming happened, just like it’s done on the news and by the politicians. Unfortunately, it was done everywhere and done by both sides of the argument— family and friends being banished for wrong thinking, and family and friends being banished for playing follow the leader.
Oddly enough, if you step back and ask yourself why the division became so large, the answer is the same—It is because people cared. Everyone had the same concern. Everyone wanted to protect the others. It was simply done from an extremely opposite viewpoint. There was no hate, or ill intent by those with the unpopular opinion, there was only concern at an absence of facts and an absence of information on potential harms.
Today we are entering the season of spring, it’s an ideal opportunity for fresh beginnings. It’s time to set the dinosaur free. It is time to turn our energies toward the things we’d like to see happen in our world. We all want health, prosperity, and the dignity of being heard, and we want it for all. It’s time to step away from those things that tear us apart and put our focus on those things that bring us together. Love heals and fear divides, let us find the exit to hell together.
Melancholy is a common occurrence and perhaps even more common these days. This meandering affliction has flitted in and out of my life in an erratic flow, mostly concealed and locked up tight. And within those months—and even years, I felt utterly exhausted and completely incapable of succeeding at any task. Yet, somehow, I pushed through, numb and only partially engaged. Fat with anxiety. I found myself operating on autopilot, completely unable to plot a course for my future. My lifetime of gaffes and blunders replayed throughout my waking hours on and on like the relentless refrain of an old song stuck in my head.
As I grew older, my list of botches grew longer and longer. And then, when people confided in me with their own troubles, I oddly found myself automatically adding them to my own litany of unravelings or downfalls to solve. At best, this idea seemed absurd, as if I could also resolve their issues? Soon, in any conversation, I found myself begging in a silent voice, “Please don’t ask anything of me with your expectant eyes and anxious energy, for I cannot carry your burden too.” In reality, I’m confident that if they had known my thoughts, they would have assumed I’d lost my ever-loving mind and would have responded, “But I haven’t asked you for a thing.” Deep down, I would know that this is true. However, being raised the middle child in a dysfunctional family, I constantly strived to improve things for everyone else. I felt it was my job. I was forever on guard. As soon as I’d enter a room, I’d read the emotion gathered there; if it proved tense, I’d either try to defuse the bomb before it exploded or run away before it did. Unfortunately, by constantly focusing on others to maintain a smoother path in life for them, I neglected to plan a clear road for myself.
As time went on, what should have been joyful, celebratory events with family and friends turned empty. I acted within the play. Despite the good-humoured grins and laughter that were thrown around like money in a casino, my smiles were consistently hollow, and my laughter was forced—a pittance at the penny slots. My feelings contracted. The space inside my heart reserved for warmth and caring iced over, and in actual fact, the slow pulsing core of my being became more desolate than a prairie field in the depths of winter— icy, rigid, and filled with emptiness.
Those were the darkest of days. Today, the sunlight pours down, creating dancing shadows on the ground. My smile is an expression of my heart, my future unfolds as I choose. This is our one guarantee in life: everything changes. So, if you are feeling that your life is pointless, overwhelming, and beyond repair, believe me when I say it is not. We live in a world of opposites: up/down, rich/poor, cold/hot, happy/sad, and on and on. Nothing is stagnant. All around us, every day, everything transforms, including you.
So, if you find yourself at the bottom of a dark and despairing hole, please remember… The light of spring will come again. The dull, lifeless grass will manifest into an iridescent carpet of emerald green under the warmth of the sun, a kaleidoscope of flowers will bloom, and the gophers in the burrows will foster little ones. A better future is here.
I, for one, believe in you. Perhaps you are wondering, “How can you believe in me?” You don’t even know me, and I reply, “It’s because you are human that I believe in you.I trust in your heart—your love, forgiveness, and kindness. I believe in your creativity, in your tears, and in your future joys. I believe in the contrast in who you are. Even the most evil-minded individual holds the capacity to become giving and loving. We all have the potential to transform and grow.
We falter, we fall, we bleed, we lash out, and we learn. If we can be strong enough to accept our pain without blaming the world or those around us, we grow. Our power lies in the love we give, not in the love we hold in our hearts. Our gifts are the love we offer in a smile, in a letter, in a devil’s food cake. Humans are magical creatures because they possess the ability to overcome. Let us overcome.
Life begins in a womb, or in a room, depending on your view, I suppose. But without a doubt, we all exist as the result of a big bang; the merging of two completely separate things; an egg and a sperm, and then lo and behold, out of this unification pops a brand new energetic being.
Human babies are quite unlike baby lizards, which hatch from an egg and are completely independent at birth, eating ants, flies and small worms. Brand new people are utterly incapable of doing anything except crying, flailing and losing their poop and unfortunately some people will continue this well into adulthood, which isn’t to say those people won’t ever change, because they can. Humans are capable of advancing their position in life through self-determination, unlike a lizard, which will always be a lizard.
I’m not going to lie, it’s a bit unnerving comparing people to lizards, it puts me at risk of having a raging reptile or a pissy progenitor on my doorstep. I’ll put a pee-pad on the landing. Now, back to my weird, and over-simplified comparison, the most obvious difference between a human and a lizard is that people have a desire to determine their own path in life and can actively plan towards attaining that goal. In essence, we try, we fail, we try, we fail, we try, we succeed and we grow—remove the pee-pad. Whereas, lizards simply live in the moment fulfilling their own needs; eating, drinking and fornicating.
Furthermore, as a non-lizard species, we have the unique ability to use introspection to hone our personal progress and develop compassion for our fellow human beings. If we cut beneath the superficial mask we wear for appearances sake, each individual soon comes face to face with their own inner workings, including their deepest fears and most vile inclinations, in doing this time and time again, everyone eventually discovers we are all capable of doing dark deeds in difficult circumstances. This revelation leads us to find empathy for those who struggle. The idea of compassion doesn’t exist for lizards, they simply view the smaller lizards, the less powerful lizards as a source of food to fill an empty need.
The progression of any society is intricately linked to the empathy the people display for their own fellow man. I came across these paragraphs in a book, the words buried themselves inside my heart and mind, irretrievable shrapnel from an explosive idea.
“Hammer cocked, a round in the chamber, finger resting lightly on the trigger, I drew a bead on whoever walked by—women pushing strollers, children, garbage collectors laughing and calling to each other, anyone—and as they passed under my window I sometimes had to bite my lip to keep from laughing in the ecstasy of my power over them, and at their absurd and innocent belief that they were safe. But over time the innocence I laughed at began to irritate me. It was a peculiar kind of irritation. I saw it years later in men I served with, and felt it myself, when unarmed Vietnamese civilians talked back to us while we herded them around. Power can only be enjoyed when it is recognized and feared. Fearlessness in those without power is maddening to those that have it.” .
This Boys Life: By Tobias Wolff
This scenario gnaws at the reality of our time. Do you think the leaders of today promote self-determination, fearlessness in the face of adversity and compassion for others, or do they actively participate in shaming, name-calling and enjoy the predatory feeling of having their finger on the trigger? Will the babies born today be encouraged to live their lives to their highest capacity as a human or will they be limited to the barest minimum like a lizard?
Happy Valentines Day! My original intention for today’s blog was to compose uplifting flowery prose which might inspire love and connection. However, as I delved into the complicated and muddled past of this whimsical day of adorations, I soon discovered there was nothing whimsical about Valentines Day. Its curious beginnings have been studied by various historians sifting through the dusty realms of the past, but unfortunately, rather than locating a precise origin, the beginnings are vague and incomplete. According to some, our designated day of love began with animal sacrifice and ended with a lottery in which young virgins were raffled off. Other chroniclers surmised February 14 was named for St. Valentine, a Roman priest, executed for secretly marrying young lovers against the wishes of Emperor Claudius II, and thereafter was named the patron saint of lovers, epileptics and beekeepers.
If you find the history of Valentines Day tragic, I would agree, but that said, haven’t we done something amazing? We took a historically horrific day and turned it into a day to express our love for our families and our friends. Each time we gape at our history with distress in our heart it’s an opportunity to revisit and become aware of the tribulations of the past thereby creating a brighter future.
Let’s consider the years of 1933-1945, when Adolf Hitler, the German dictator sought war and hate instead of peace and love. His leadership was directly responsible for the deaths of six million Jews and five million noncombatants. Many of those died in the concentration camps, and thousands of deaths were attributed to medical experimentation by Nazi doctors. During Hitlers war campaign the rape of innocent women and children were common occurrence, and he actively persecuted homosexuals and people with disabilities, and went as far as authorizing a euthanasia program for disabled adults.
Today, we look back and wonder how this devastation could have happened, the survivors tell us it occurred quite gradually, it began with a propaganda campaign, a stealthy layering of words resulting in a slow twist of the mind. The government sponsored media used radio, newspapers, posters and flyers, to dehumanize their fellow Jewish citizens and dissidents. Eventually they considered those people enemies that needed to be dealt with, debate was not allowed, disagreeing voices squashed and demonized.
“The size of the lie is a definite factor in causing it to be believed, for the vast masses of the nation are in the depths of their hearts more easily deceived than they are consciously and intentionally bad. The primitive simplicity of their minds renders them a more easy prey to a big lie than a small one, for they themselves often tell little ones but would be ashamed to tell a big one.”
Adolf Hitler
Around that same time period from 1922-1953, Joseph Stalin, Soviet dictator, became responsible for over six million peoples deaths and perhaps as many as nine million if you take into account death by starvation and concentration camps for dissidents. A historian, Norman Naimark, penned the book, Stalin’s Genocides, to illustrate the dictator’s horrific deeds.
“In the process of collectivization, for example, 30,000 kulaks were killed directly, mostly shot on the spot. About 2 million were forcibly deported to the Far North and Siberia. They were called ‘enemies of the people, as well as swine, dogs, cockroaches, scum, vermin, filth, half-animals, apes. Activists promoted murderous slogans: “We will exile the kulak by the thousand when necessary— shoot the kulak breed.” The kulak class were farmers. ‘The destruction of the kulak class triggered the Ukrainian famine, during which 3 million to 5 million peasants died of starvation.”
Norman Naimark
It’s ugly. It’s terrible to read, and it’s difficult to consider those times, yet if we turn away from the bloody history of our world we dishonour the pain and suffering of the dead. A forgotten history is a repeated history. Out of all the mass murdering leaders of the 1900’s, the Chinese communist leader, Mao Zedong, reigned supreme at killing his own people. His rule led to the deaths of 45 million people. Forty-Five Million. Rodgers Place, home of the Edmonton Oilers hockey team can hold 20,734 people for a concert. You would need approximately two thousand-one hundred and seventy Rodgers Places to hold all the bodies that Mao Zedong was responsible for killing.
“Mao thought that he could catapult his country past its competitors by herding villagers across the country into giant people’s communes. In pursuit of a utopian paradise, everything was collectivised. People had their work, homes, land, belongings and livelihoods taken from them. In collective canteens, food, distributed by the spoonful according to merit, it became a weapon used to force people to follow the party’s every dictate. As incentives to work were removed, coercion and violence were used instead to compel famished farmers to perform labour on poorly planned irrigation projects while fields were neglected.
A catastrophe of gargantuan proportions ensued. Extrapolating from published population statistics, historians have speculated that tens of millions of people died of starvation. But the true dimensions of what happened are only now coming to light thanks to the meticulous reports the party itself compiled during the famine….
What comes out of this massive and detailed dossier is a tale of horror in which Mao emerges as one of the greatest mass murderers in history, responsible for the deaths of at least 45 million people between 1958 and 1962. It is not merely the extent of the catastrophe that dwarfs earlier estimates, but also the manner in which many people died: between two and three million victims were tortured to death or summarily killed, often for the slightest infraction. When a boy stole a handful of grain in a Hunan village, local boss Xiong Dechang forced his father to bury him alive. The father died of grief a few days later. The case of Wang Ziyou was reported to the central leadership: one of his ears was chopped off, his legs were tied with iron wire, a ten kilogram stone was dropped on his back and then he was branded with a sizzling tool – punishment for digging up a potato.”
-Frank Dikötter
People are complicated creatures, our egos and fears sometimes lead us into unreasonable actions. In the 18th century around twenty percent of all woman died from the Black Death of childbed. Dr. Ignaz Semmelweis, sought to solve the reason. Fairly quickly he established that the mid-wives had a much lower rate of mothers dying after childbirth than the doctors, therefore he concluded the mid-wives must be doing something different than the fully trained doctors. After spending time observing the mid-wives verses the doctors, he eventually came to the conclusion that the doctors did not wash their hands between seeing patients and delivering babies. In short order, Dr. Semmelweis instructed his staff to begin washing their hands and cleaning the instruments between patients, and in response the rate of Black Death in his delivering mothers dropped off dramatically. Incredibly, the other doctors did not immediately follow his solution and actively shunned and mocked Dr. Semmelweis’s suggestion. It took years before hand washing was implemented and in the meantime many more woman died.
History holds so many warnings in the crotch of its bloodiest years. Looking at history we can see, the first sign of a government gone astray can be found in the wording used by their media and its leaders. It utilizes disparaging language, singling out a particular group through blaming and name calling. Cultivating emotion through the use of certain phrasing is a the most powerful tool a leader can use in addressing its citizens. It can either bring people together or drive people apart.
“We all know people who are deciding whether or not they are willing to get vaccinated, and we will do our very best to try to convince them. However, there is still a part of the population that is fiercely against it.
They don’t believe in science/progress and are very often misogynistic and racist. It is a very small group of people, but that doesn’t shy away from the fact that they take up some space.
This leads us, as a leader and as a country, to make a choice; Do we tolerate these people?”
Prime Minister Justin Trudeau
Do you tolerate me? Do you think I am racist and misogynistic for making a personal choices for the only thing I truly own on this earth—my body? Dividing citizens has never proved a peaceful path into the future. Love and unity is the only way to move forward. Consider this, ordinary civilians are not the instigators of an oppressive and tyrannical society, however, through fear and manipulation the majority of citizens do grant their leaders that power. Our history is being decided now. I am an unvaccinated healthy citizen on the side of freedom— love me or hate me, it makes no difference to me, I still consider you a potential friend and ally in a world that seems to have gone over the edge. Happy love day to you.
Sharpenedink 