Life As A Human is an exciting new web venue that comments on and celebrates the human experience. The site features writing across a wide range of topics. Our goal is not to promote sensationalism, but to always strive to be sensational. As well, we hope to make our contribution to the world through philanthropic efforts that benefit humans from all walks of life.

As many of you know, I signed on as Editor in Chief of Life As A Human — I didn’t have to think twice. I am thrilled to be part of such a creative team and excited about our amazing editorial offering. This line up includes people like Steven Erikson, bestselling author of the  Malazan Book of the Fallen series; Bill Weaver, founder of Media that Matters; Sandra Phinney, travel writer extraordinaire; Julie Harrison of Coffee with Julie fame; and Alison Skelton, shaman and artist. Every day we will be releasing more stories by more contributors. If you would like to contribute stories or photos, please visit our Submissions page.

“To say that the writing community has expressed a great deal of interest in Life As A Human would be an understatement,” says Life As A Human president Gil Namur.

“Right from day one we have had tremendous feedback, all of which has been positive and encouraging,” he continues. “We want to thank all of the contributors who have embraced our vision. Their support and the trust they have placed in Life As A Human has been extraordinary. Without them, these pages would be, well, pretty empty. A huge thank you also goes out to all of our social media friends. Thank you so much for your tweets, stumbles and Facebook posts. Please don’t stop.”

I hope you will visit Life As A Human soon. We look forward to your comments, suggestions and contributions.

Just got back from seeing Avatar, the latest movie from director James Cameron. Now, Cameron is known for the great effects and plenty of action. Think of Terminator and The Abyss. I wasn’t expecting profundity, but that’s what I found tonight.

On one level Avatar is typical blockbuster, supersized with amazing animation. But it’s subtext is pure shamanic journey, from the world tree to the reverence for the universal mother, to rites of passage and animal guides.

The story takes place on a distant world called Pandora where corporate mining interest come face to face with wondrous 10-foot-tall creatures called the Na’vi. The Na’vi are highly reminiscent of Earth’s own indigenous cultures, intimately connected to the land, the animals, the energy and the ancestors. They worship a mother goddess called Eywa.

The Na’vi live in a world with trees taller than many of our skyscrapers, mountains  that float and flora and fauna that shimmer with colour at night. It is Eden, but just as in our world here on Planet Earth, there are those who would put profits before people and they are willing to destroy paradise for it. To that end, the company that is so aggressively mining Pandora has the military, a thinly veiled and effective poke at the USA’s protection of corporate interests in other countries.

During the past year, I have been learning more about shamanism. For me, Avatar was familiar in that it strongly resembled a shamanic journey in non-ordinary reality.

Yeah, I know this is Hollywood and I don’t want to demean my own practice by comparing it to computer generated odysseys. On the other hand, I applaud that Cameron is bringing an important message to people who might not otherwise care to learn about shamanism. Avatar is clear — we are all connected, to each other and to our planet, whether it’s Earth or a moon called Pandora.

James Cameron said that “the Na’vi represent something that is our higher selves, or our aspirational selves, what we would like to think we are” and that even though there are good humans within the film, the humans “represent what we know to be the parts of ourselves that are trashing our world and maybe condemning ourselves to a grim future”.

I will write more about Avatar after I’ve had time to think about it more (and get some sleep) but I am inspired and still a bit in awe of this movie. For three hours I sat there in my 3D glasses, exploring a fantasy world, thinking of our own world and wondering what is going to become of us on Planet Earth if we don’t find the strength and spirit to protect our planetary home.

I have no idea what will happen on December 21, 2012 when the Mayan calendar ends. Maybe the world will end. Maybe it won’t. Maybe the poles will shift? Maybe the Earth’s axis will wobble? Maybe.

I do know there are lots of people making money out of 2012 and the shelves in bookstores are filling up with tomes on the end of the world as we know it. On the corner of a major intersection in Victoria where I live, a bedraggled guy holds a sign warning of the wages of sin and the end times. Funny, I thought I saw the same guy holding the same sign in Vancouver in 1970.

I am not going to be fooled again. Back on December 21, 1999, I remember counting down the minutes to midnight with friends and family, waiting for the grid to go down as Y2k ticked closer. I had stocked up on mushroom soup and toilet paper. I might still have some of those soup cans.

Last month Associated Press writer Mark Stevenson reported that Mayan Apolinario Chile Pixtun is weary of questions about the Mayan calendar supposedly ending on December 21, 2012.

“I came back from England last year and, man, they had me fed up with this stuff,” said the Mayan elder.

Now, Not Myth

Here’s what bugs me — the world as we know it is ending — we don’t need to wait for 2012. Change is definitely happening and it’s hard to deny it. Some things that were, are no more. Some things that are, will soon be gone. It’s called climate change, or global warming.

Yet instead of really focusing on what we must do to slow climate change, our mass media focuses on Mayan myths and some ‘maybe-maybe not’ event with Hollywood profit power — 2012 starring John Cusack.

Here’s what we know for sure that is not movie myth:

• The snows of Kilimanjaro are melting.
• Polar bears wander the arctic, hungry, as their traditional hunting territory literally melts.
• Warming waters in the shallow oceans have contributed to the death of about a quarter of the world’s coral reefs in the last few decades alone.
• Greenland’s ice sheet is melting. The amount of ice melt during the summer of 2007 was the largest since scientists first started making satellite measurements of the ice in 1979. According to climate scientist Konrad Steffen, the amount of ice lost in 2007 was “the equivalent of two times all the ice in the Alps, or a layer of water more than one-half mile deep covering Washington, D.C.”
• An oxygen-depleted dead zone the size of New Jersey is starving sea life off the coast of Oregon and Washington, reports Kim Murphy of the LA Times. It will probably appear there each summer as a result of  “evolving wind conditions likely brought on by a changing climate, rather than pollution,” according to Jack Barth, professor of physical oceanography at Oregon State University.

On his site Global Issues, Anup Shah has dedicated significant time and resources to providing a comprehensive overview of climate change and other issues affecting our Earth. His message — we can’t wait to act. He is not alone in his opinion.

“We have to do it this year. Not next year – this year,” Al Gore at the World Business Summit on Climate Change in Copenhagen. “The clock is ticking, because Mother Nature does not do bailouts.”

Is climate change real? Ask the people of the archipelago nation of Maldives. Eighty percent of its chain of 1,200 islands is no more than 1m above sea level. The United Nations’ Intergovernmental Panel of Climate Change is forecasting a rise in sea levels of at least 7.1 inches (18 cm) by the end of the century. That would mean the people of the Maldives, all of 396,000 of them, will have no home, no country. Climate change will claim it and the sea will bury it.

Recently, Maldives President Mohamed Nasheed and his cabinet donned scuba gear for an underwater meeting to focus global attention on the threat of climate change. The cabinet signed a declaration calling for global cuts in carbon emissions. The declaration  will be presented before the UN climate summit in Copenhagen, Denmark in December.

“We are trying to send our message to let the world know what is happening and what will happen to the Maldives if climate change isn’t checked,” Nasheed said. If urgent action isn’t taken according to Nasheed, “We are all going to die.”

It’s not the kind of thing you usually hear from a president of a nation.

It’s not the kind of thing you want to hear.

Indeed, denial is easier and so human — an effective but self-defeating shield against fear and despair. I believe we turn to denial because we really don’t know how to cope with a problem of this scale and few people with power seem to be offering real leadership. Certainly Canadian Prime Minister Steven Harper isn’t, but then he has oil to think about, right?

Sometimes I think global warming is akin to a fever whose purpose is to fight off infection in a body. Have we polluted the body of the Earth to the point of infection?

I do believe this planet will survive. Will the polar bears? Will the whales and fish? Will the coral reefs? Will we? The ancient prophesies haven’t been very definitive on this point. Stay tuned.

U2’s music has been with me through a lot of my life — births, celebrations, deaths, dances, epiphanies. Their music takes me to the same place I go when I’m writing poetry — the almost-undefinable, magical place where the poetry gets lift off and seems to write itself.

I’d like to think I’m different in some way from all the other U2 fans, but the truth is I’m just one of millions, unlikely to ever to meet Bono.

But last night in Vancouver’s BC Place, I did get to go up on stage with U2 as a small part of the band’s amazing 360 tour for their latest album No Line on the Horizon, which is fast becoming one of my favourites.

My story starts when I applied to volunteer for One.org, the global advocacy organization and campaign. Co-founded by Bono and other campaigners, One.org’s mission is to fight against extreme poverty and preventable diseases. The campaign has helped focus much-needed world attention on Africa’s plight in particular.

About 30 of us were chosen to volunteer and to spend the hours before the show asking concert-goers to add their voices to One.org’s two million other members (no, there was no money involved). As a special surprise for the volunteers, One’s energetic volunteer coordinator Matt announced we would not only get to watch the show from inside the circle, we would be in the show.

The plan was for us to join many of U2’s crew onstage during the song “Walk On”, an evocative, haunting song dedicated to Aung San Suu Kyi, a 64-old Burmese woman who has been under military house arrest for 14 years. In 1990, she was elected Prime Minister by 59% of the vote but her detention by the junta stopped her from taking office. She is still imprisoned.

We were to walk out onto the outer ring surrounding centre stage, each holding up a mask imprinted with the likeness of Aung San Suu Kyi — then turn and face the audience.

As we got ready for our entrance, I could not believe I was about to face 50,000 people. Then I heard the opening notes to “Walk On” and I held back tears. The song, with its lyrics “…all that you can’t leave behind…”, brought back the entire past year to me. I had watched my Mom die of lung cancer, taking with her the only thing she couldn’t leave behind — love. At least I truly hope that’s what she took with her.

I stepped onto the stage thinking not only of Aung San Suu Kyi but also of my Mom, now free of the prison of her pain. I felt like she was watching me there. And, ok, I thought of my best friend and my brother who were sitting at the back of the stadium beside the seat I would have occupied. There was a wee bit of guilt there for me.

Walking on that stage was a moment I’ll never forget, with the bass and drums thrumming, the clear, soaring sound of Edge’s guitar and Bono’s voice, so magically familiar.

I couldn’t see the band, but I briefly experienced what it must be like to see through their eyes — to look out at thousands and thousands of people with their hands raised in solidarity to human rights and the oneness that is possible when hearts and minds unite.

As we left the stage (trying to walk straight on the catwalk with the masks still held to our faces) I caught a glimpse of Bono in the shadows. Then it was over and we were back by the stage for the rest of the concert, having the time of our lives and rediscovering why these guys are the world’s best band.

Thank you to One.org for an amazing experience. I would have gladly volunteered anyhow (but, wow, what an unforgettable surprise!). One.org has shown that the Internet is a powerful tool for peacefully holding politicians accountable  and raising awareness of some of the most critical issues of our time. Protest in our times is alive and well —  on the web as well as in the streets.

Talking to people before the concert last night and signing them up was an enlightening experience in itself. People open up about what they cared about in the world, and what their hopes and fears about the future were. We are all more alike than different.

It’s easy to be cynical but it’s far more courageous to be hopeful, so thank you, U2, for the music and the message.

Our great group of One.org volunteers (me and Chris are second and third from the right).

Whenever our economy goes into a slump, arts funding always seems to come under the knife. It’s like the arts are some kind of cancer to be extracted by the political scalpel.

These cuts have happened federally in Canada to the tune of $45 million (and no, Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s piano playing doesn’t make up for it). They have also happened in British Columbia. Our poorly named BC Ministry of Tourism, Culture and the Arts will apparently cut 50% this coming year from arts funding, 90% in 2011, and 91%-94% the following year. According to The Hook, the cuts pulled funding from the Association of Book Publishers of British Columbia ($45,000), BC BookWorld ($31,000) and the BC Association of Magazine Publishers ($20,000).

Some people have asked, “Why should I have to pay for arts funding? I don’t read much. I never go to the theatre.” My answer to that is that I haven’t been to provincial parks in a while but I still see the value in funding them. Whether we are discussing arts or the environment, it is vital to look beyond our own lives and realize the impact on the greater good.

I’ve heard people say, “In a capitalist society, shouldn’t the amount someone is willing to pay dictate the true value of a work?” Tell it to Vivaldi who died poor on the streets of Vienna after his patron, the Church, abandoned him. Tell that to Gwendolyn MacEwen, one of Canada’s greatest poets. This two-time Governor General’s Award winner died in poverty. Imagine a world without the legacy of Vivaldi or MacEwen. We would be lesser for it.

At one time, fortunate artists may have had patrons to help support their work. Certainly Beethoven did, as did Michelangelo who received funding from several popes as well as the House of Medici, Italy’s first family of Renaissance arts and architecture. In fact, the Medicis were responsible for the majority of Florentine art during their years in political power. True, Michelangelo often cursed them, but without their funding he would not have had the funds to purchase his precious marble. Imagine a world without the art of Michelangelo?

Today, government has largely assumed the role of the patron in Canada but it is clear that this patron does not see the value of arts to our culture. It does not see that support for the arts is essential to our evolution as a people. Arts nourish our ability to appreciate other people’s points of view and to stimulate intelligent thought and discussion. The arts also nourish our economies and boost tourism. Would Paris be as compelling to visit without the Louvre? Would New York be the same without Broadway? It always amazes me that Canadians will travel far and wide in search of great art and architecture, yet the arts are sadly not well supported here at home.

In terms of arts funding, I know of no artist in Canada who has become wealthy on this funding alone. Believe me, the starving artist is alive and well in our country. They create because they are born to create. Indeed, they are compelled to do so. They enrich us all through their work. In his speech to the Federal-Provincial Culture Ministers Conference in Halifax in 2004, Simon Brault, then-head of the Canada Council for the Arts, perfectly captured the role of the artist in our society.

“These artists do their work, often without worrying about its direct and indirect impacts. This work is of value in itself, and we cannot, nor should we, “instrumentalize” artists for economic or social purposes, however worthy they may be. But it is our job to place this work in context and to show how it contributes to the well-being of individuals and communities. Now more than ever, arts and culture appear as the key to three basic skills: learning to be, learning to know and learning to live together.

We must do more to support our artists, to fully recognize their status, to provide high quality training at the initial and professional development levels, to ensure they are fairly compensated and to protect and celebrate their creative freedom.”

That speech was five years ago. What a shame the government did not listen and has chosen a short sighted approach. William Gibson, author of Necromancer, wrote, “As a futurist, someone with some experience in long-range scenario-based corporate and municipal planning, I’ve seen my share of jaw-droppingly shortsighted proposals. But these proposed cuts to support for the arts in BC (almost 90% by 2011) really take the cake. This is governance guaranteed to rot the fabric of our province’s future…”

In 1956, John F. Kennedy spoke at Harvard University about the arts.  I only wish I could find such inspiration from Prime Minister Stephen Harper or Premier Gordon Campbell. John F. Kennedy said:

“When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man’s concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses. If more politicians knew poetry, and more poets knew politics, I am convinced the world would be a little better place in which to live.”

In defending the arts, perhaps the poets are learning politics. When will the politicians learn poetry?

Land & Sea Murals at Ogden Point Breakwater, Victoria, British Columbia. Photo by Chris Holt Photos, http://www.chrisholtphotos.com

I took a walk with my family on Thanksgiving Day and, under a dramatically dark October sky, saw for the first time the spectacular murals on the breakwater at Ogden Point in Victoria, BC. With the addition of the murals, the old grey breakwater has become majestic. It doesn’t compete with its coastal backdrop but appears to emerge from it.

Graced with these murals, the breakwater spans out into the sea like a dream unravelling. The murals depict images of local chiefs and BC’s Lieutenant Governor Steven L. Point, and images of land and marine life. The meeting of land and sea life in these murals is fitting, for the places where land meets ocean (called biomes or lifezones) are nurseries for all kinds of life. They are rich with nutrients, biodiversity and possibility. So it is with these murals.

According to the Times-Colonist, the eye-catching mural panels are designed by local First Nations artists. They are part of an artistic project that will lead to 100 panels being mounted on the landmark seaside walkway. The first panels were created by Coast Salish artists Butch Dick Songhees First Nation) and Darlene Gait (Esquimalt First Nation) and a team of Aboriginal youth.

“The spirits of our ancestors live on in those of us who try to bring dignity and nobility back to our people through honesty, generosity and respect,” said Darlene Gait in a news release.

I am hardly qualified to comment on anyone’s art; I can only speak to the way these murals made me feel. Looking at the them, I did experience a sense of the noble. I’m not talking about noble as in the European lords and ladies, but of something older and more powerful, something distinctly of this place and time — perhaps the spirit of the sea itself.

I really, truly do not understand why these things exist. They churn out smoke and fumes. They spoil the silence of a Sunday morning. From my point of view, they are not even all that effective: I could rake the leaves in less time than it takes the guy down the street to make sure every speck of tree detritus is blown into a neat little pile (which the wind then blows around again anyway).

Dr. Andrew Weil has captured the argument against leaf blowers incredibly well. I encourage you to read his article because it details some very sound reasons for banning these idiotic instruments.

So here’s my plea to municipalities — at the same time you are banning idling cars (a good idea, by the way) put a ban on the most invasive of the power tools — leaf blowers. You may find there is a large “silent” majority waiting to applaud you.

Jazzie the Basset Hound waits mournfully for a morsel.

Two years ago I was circumnavigating the Island of Maggiore in Italy, following the same path walked by St. Francis to his seaside grotto on the shores of Lake Trasimeno, the liquid  jewel of Umbria.

According to legends, in 1211 a local fisherman gave St. Francis a fish but Francis, ever the lover of animals, threw it back. The fish gratefully followed St. Francis around the lake until the saint bestowed on it a special blessing. St. Francis became known as the patron saint of animals (and later of ecology).

Yesterday, I was once found myself thinking about St. Francis, this time at Dominion Brook Park near Sidney, BC. It was the annual get together of Basset Hounds and their owners and they came from as far away as Vancouver and Courtenay. In  a green field overlooking the blue waters of the Salish sea , amidst a throng of 29 squirming, baying Basset Hounds, two patient Franciscan friars bestowed blessings on the dogs, sprinkling each with holy water following the reading of St. Francis’ The Canticle of All Creatures.

I hadn’t heard this canticle before, but was struck by its poetry and profound reverence for nature — for “brother sun”, “sister moon” and “mother earth”. It was written in the 1200s, a time when concepts such as animals rights, environmentalism and even human rights were ignored or scorned. But St. Francis, who walked away from his life as the son of a wealthy cloth merchant, followed his own path

I’m not of the Christian faith but I felt a deep reverence for the words of St. Francis. These words elevated the autumn morning and even lent a particular grace to the Bassett Hounds who are decidedly one of the most ungainly of the canines (though any good Basset Hound owner will tell you they are beautiful).

And I firmly agreed with St. Francis that a true compass of any person’s nature can be found in the way they treat animals. He said, “If you have men who will exclude any of God’s creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.“

So that was my Sunday, amidst the blessed Basset Hounds. Thank, Lydia, for organizing this annual event and to everyone else who contributed. And thank you to Victoria Adoptables for bringing Jazzie the Basset to our house of misfits, where somehow we all fit.