Shared-Vision -

Ask Umbra

admin — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 17:01:45 -0600

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Wrapper's Delight

Author

by Umba Fisk

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Dear Umbra,
Due to my procrastinating nature, I once again find myself in the position of having to wrap what seems like hundreds of gifts in wasteful wrapping paper, only to have it torn apart and thrown away the very next day. I’m a proponent of the “reduce, reuse, recycle” philosophy, but during the holidays, wrapping my gifts in the Sunday comics doesn’t say “mindful conservationist” so much as it says “I’m too lazy and cheap to use store-bought wrapping paper.” Do you have any suggestions on what I can use to show my holiday spirit without using a small forest’s worth of candy-cane-print wrapping? —Johnny M.

Dearest Johnny M.,
A visitation of this topic in time to save procrastinators like us is apt, I believe. Today I will give a few very specific instructions on scrounging/creating wrapping paper from stuff around the house. Remember, the prophylactic step is to create a repository for all the wrapping paper you receive. Open gifts, shove the paper into a box, a bag, the closet, or the basement. Look to the future.

Newspapers and magazines are probably the simplest, best paper already lying around the house. The trick of making decent wrapping out of newspaper or magazines is in the choice of photo or section. I learned this from an actual artist who wraps his gifts this way, I promise. A newspaper will yield interesting photos, or advertisements, perhaps even germane text, that will look slick and nice on presents if the following conditions are met: the attractive part of the photo is centered on the top of the gift in plain view, the paper is carefully wrapped, there is a separate gift tag, and bonus points for some ribbon-type of finish. An example would be a photo of a nice mountain pass from the travel section, with the top of the mountains and the sky centered atop the gift. I think this looks clever—not cheap, and not lazy.

If the paper you have at home is mainly paper bags or once-used office paper, either you can carefully wrap this plain stuff about a present and top it off with an attractive garnish (see below) or, if you have time, you can first decorate the plain paper. Who knows what you already have that could be used? Maybe you can draw well, and make little personal illustrations on each packet. Maybe you have a glitter collection, or pile of stickers—even file-folder stickers can be made into something interesting. Maybe you can collage snippets from magazines into clever sayings or images related to the recipient or enclosed gift (requires glue or tape, and scissors).

Perhaps you have the supplies to do very basic printmaking. For example, if you have paint, a knife, and a potato, cut the potato in half to get a flat surface. Carve a simple image from the flat surface so that the extraneous potato bits are stripped away from whatever festive design you want to portray—a tree, a star, a circle—like a sculpture birthed from rock, spread some paint onto a yogurt lid, dip the potato into the paint, and stamp the potato stamp all over the plain paper.

Now for the “(see below)” part: Found paper, or crafty paper, will work best if the gift is well wrapped. To me, and I think to most of us, it is not the paper itself so much as the crisp folds and ribbon that give me the little shock of excitement before gift unveiling. Here are a few basic instructions, but they don’t mention what I have noticed as key to the project: Wrap the gift as tightly as possible, and crease every fold, not just the ends. Run two fingers along and make all edges look sharp and purposeful. Then, add the garnish. It could be a ribbon, or a string, or twine, or a series of stickers, or whatever, but because you are using found paper, you need some type of garnish to make the package jump. Otherwise you run the risk of the package looking like a pile of lunchmeats. Which is what I’m trying to save you from.

Leave enough time to wrap with care. Good luck, and Happy New Year.
Givingly, Umbra

Umbra Fisk is the green-advice columnist for Grist.org. She believes the best gifts are the ones that don’t need to be wrapped.

Knowing ‘True’ Wealth

admin — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 19:11:11 -0500

Sub-Title

(hint: finance expertise, community roots, being mom)

Author

by Rebecca Ephraim

Content

From her spacious corner office at the top of Vancity’s high-rise headquarters, CEO Tamara Vrooman presides over Canada’s largest credit union, with nearly 400,000 members. But this 40-something high-powered banker, who earned her stripes as deputy minister in the provincial departments of health and finance, is also a devoted wife and mother. And it is this, as much as her formidable finance experience, that colours her views on the meaning of true wealth.

How do you view the current financial turmoil? The situation in the United States is definitely a difficult one. It really points to the fact that what happened on Wall Street is a fundamental problem of being disconnected from the community and the people you serve. If you take more than you give back, then ultimately, at some point, you are not going to be sustainable.

So what would be a positive scenario? I think the more positive scenario is one where—you know, in our case [Vancity]—we’re deeply connected to our communities. We’re owned by our members, we’re independent, and we’re local, so we pay attention to what they care about and what their needs are. We know if we are too quick to move or if we go beyond what our community can sustain, then our very business won’t be sustainable. So I think it really points to thinking that wealth is not just profit alone, and going beyond profit to issues like sustainability, social justice, community well-being…those are the things that ultimately sustain growth, and that’s what we’re seeing.

With this storm of economic instability going on around me, how can I think in terms of being a do-gooder? Doing good is not a luxury. It’s not something we do just because we have extra cash around. It’s something we do because it’s a fundamental way that we think we can contribute, not only to the health and well-being of ourselves and our families, but to the broader community upon which we rely for our very sustenance and survival. Maybe your strategies change a little bit in terms of how you participate—more with your time than your wallet. Sometimes our time is valued less than our wallets… but it can be just as meaningful, if not more so, in what we give and also what we learn as a result of that involvement.

How do you personally contribute? I’ve always been active in the community and I participate in a variety of not-for-profits. But I think it’s not all official and titled, the way we give back to our community. I also pay close attention to the needs of my family and my friends. I think it can be listening hard to some of my single-parent friends, both men and women, and their challenges. Sometimes it’s as simple as their mom is in the hospital and they have a two- and a four-year-old, so you invite them over for dinner so they don’t have to cook a meal. It’s the little things that prove you care about the people you share your community with.

Do you find that women and men approach the idea of wealth differently? I do. We find that our women members often do a lot more research than men do. But often they don’t have the same kind of network in terms of getting financial help and advice. Women—sometimes, but not always—were not raised with the same confidence in financial matters. We [Vancity] try to create informal ways to connect women with one another so that we break down that kind of intimidation around, “oh, that seems so complicated.” Because finance isn’t complicated. It’s very basic at its core, but sometimes the language that we use and the way we approach it can be very intimidating for women, particularly for those who have not had to participate in it on their own or are just starting out.

What insights do you have around striking a healthy work-life balance? I’ll be honest with you: it’s something I struggle with every day. Basic strategies I use? I try to limit my outside activities in terms of evenings to once a week; I’m not always successful. I try to get home between six and eight o’clock so I can have dinner with my family and put my little guy to bed and read him a story. And then I often go to work again until eight or midnight. That works for me, just that window to change gears and to ask questions about my son’s day that involved mud puddles and skinned knees as opposed to capital markets and treasury bills.

—interview conducted, condensed, and edited by SharedVISION publisher, Rebecca Ephraim

SV Footnotes

admin — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 14:34:53 -0500

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Author

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“We're going completely green.”

Good to the Last Drop

admin — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 14:07:06 -0500

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Cost of gas making you crazy? Don’t get mad—get hyper

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Skyrocketing prices at the pump have convinced some drivers to ditch their traditional gas-guzzlers for hybrids. Yet there are a few drivers out there making the most of their current rides—while purportedly getting hybrid-like mileage. Meet the hypermilers. These drivers go to extreme measures to get the maximum bang out of a tank of gas. “In conventional vehicles,” states cleanmpg.com, asite dedicated to upping fuel economy and lowering emissions, “[hypermilers] can often match the mileage of an average person driving an equivalent hybrid.” To join the club, consider these tips the next time you head out on the road.

Hypermiling 101
• Use cruise control whenever possible
• Avoid sudden starts and stops
• Avoid driving on hilly/mountainous terrain
• Do not idle excessively
• Do no take frequent, short trips
• Do not exceed the speed limit
• Minimize use of air conditioning
• Use four-wheel drive only when necessary
• Tow only when necessary
• Remove cargo/cargo racks
• Coast whenever you can
• Keep your tires properly inflated

Advanced techniques for risk-takers (we assume no legal liability)
• “Drafting”: tailgating trucks in order to cut down on wind resistance
• Driving well below the speed limit
• Coasting with the engine off
• Coasting through red lights or stop signs
• Driving shoeless (to get a better feel of the accelerator/brake)

Out of the Closet... Kind Of

admin — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 17:20:40 -0500

Sub-Title

A look at livin’ la vida lesbian

Author

by Lexi Chuba

Content

(image source: Gabrielle d’Estrees and the Duchesse de Villars, by Meister der Schule von Fontainebleau, 1594 )

In the 30 years since Vancouver’s first Pride parade, life in Lotusland has become much rosier for gays and lesbians. Or has it? SharedVISION general manager Lexi Chuba recalls her journey from life behind closed doors to life in Canada’s most queer-friendly province.

Driving across the border into Canada, I felt a rush of relief as I escaped small-town life in rural America.

I reflected on my hometown in Connecticut, held tightly together by conservative ideals, and unwelcoming to “outsiders” (meaning non-whites and non-Catholics). My first crush, a lesbian Latina girl who wore her hair so tightly back she resembled a flamenco dancer, was literally stoned into fleeing. She disappeared in the night, as if there were an underground railroad hidden beneath the track field at my high school.

It’s hard to explain to Vancouverites that just across the border is a nation that admonished me for my “lifestyle choice.” That kicked me to the curb when I thought I was doing the right thing: being true to myself.

The first person I came out to turned out to be an evangelical Christian—who sent me home with a Bible and an aspirin. After that, I hid my desire for women, and started focusing on men. But then my first “serious” boyfriend and I realized we both were experiencing the same “growing pains” (a term for homosexuality my mother coined when I asked if she’d ever kissed a girl). My boy and I agreed to try and cure ourselves of our disease. But no matter how hard we tried, our experiment failed. We were left with two conclusions: he was gay; I was lesbian.

In university I came out to the world. Such a sense of liberation took over! I was finally me. I attended every Pride parade I could. I wore rainbow belts and shoelaces to let everyone know I had hit the scene. Back home, though, my teachers—who’d written letters of recommendation so I could enter a prestigious university—refused to see me. Lifelong girlfriends no longer invited me to crash at their homes for fear I would hit on them. I was constantly shooed back into the closet by my family and asked, “So, is there a man in your life?”

Well, I did find love in university, only he was a she. A Canadian she. I gladly followed her back to Canada, as same-sex civil unions are not recognized in most of the United States. Though I would miss the Dunkin’ Donuts coffee and value of the dollar (at least until recently), the maple leaf flag was beckoning to me to climb aboard that underground railroad.

I entered Canada clutching a binder of letters from friends and family stating they recognized our “alternative partnership.” We didn’t dare hold hands through Aldergrove, Langley, or Burnaby. But soon after we hit downtown Vancouver, we arrived at home base: Davie Street. I’d never seen so many rainbow stickers in my life. I felt as though I’d stepped into a dream world of buttless chaps, disco balls, beautiful men, and handsome women.

But even though same-sex marriage has been legal in B.C. since ’05, we queers fear our rights will be taken away as right-wing politicians take over. And, every day, B.C. loses credibility as a queer-friendly province when we’re allowed to outwardly embrace our queer sisters and brothers just one day a year.

What’s more, Pride (our one day) has gone Starbucks. It’s so commercialized that I’m afraid the parade will be moved off Denman and into a Wal-Mart parking lot. Besides, I shouldn’t have to wait for one day a year to get a free mochaccino for being a lesbo. What’s more, I should be able to cross the border holding my partner’s hand and not receive glares, or walk down Robson and reward her with a kiss when she finally finds that sensible pair of shoes. I shouldn’t have to discuss with her whether some event we’re attending is a “we are friends” event, “we are roommates” event, or “we are partners” event.

One day, I hope there will be wider acceptance. I want to return home to find my evangelical Christian shaking hips with my Latina flamenco dancer, while my ex-“boyfriend” does laps on the track field sporting his rainbow shoelaces.

So what does Pride mean to me? Divide and conquer: dividing the gay-haters from the gay-lovers, and conquering prejudice—in order to liberate the millions of travellers on underground railroads across the world.

Lexi Chuba is a poster girl for all things lesbian-chic and is looking forward to her free mochaccino August 6.

Oh the Pleasure (Oh, the Pain!)

admin — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 13:49:34 -0500

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Here's what our readers have to say about their love/hate relationships with yoga.

Author

Content

Of course we love our yoga practice: yoga can lift our spirits, ground us in the present moment, and lead us out of the temporal world to a higher state of consciousness. But the path to enlightenment is fraught with little stumbling blocks that often get in the way of our bliss. Here’s what our readers have to say about their love/hate relationships with yoga.

"Yoga can take me to a place of exhilaration. Outdoor yoga among the trees, with a summer breeze tugging at my shirt, has the peculiar ability to put a smile on my face for the whole day. Now, if only men had the same variety and beauty in clothing that women have, my yoga experience would be complete."
Dan Kells, CEO, North Vancouver electoral riding, Green Party of Canada and student of Hatha yoga

"I love the way yoga makes me feel. I hate listening to chirping birds, chanting, and running water for an hour."
Darren Sinclare, wholesale account manager, Lululemon, and student of all types of yoga

"I love how I feel after the 90-minute session_that I survived and that I’m better for it; I feel on top of the world! I love it when Barb sings opera at the end. At first I hated the heat, but it gets better... I hate when I can’t do a posture or hold one, but I know that if I keep trying I’ll get better. "
Kerry Ho, CEO of Inhance Investment Management Inc. and student of Bikram Yoga

"Love breathing but hate having no tissue to blow my nose. Love sweating but hate smelling hot yoga shorts."
Geordie Milne, teacher of Hatha, power, yin meditation, and kid’s yoga

"I’m weak, drenched in sweat, heart pounding into my throat and I’m definitely not liking the demanding teacher. I’m the epitome of miserable ... but 90-minutes later, I’m clear, present, energized and fondly recollecting the wise instructor. "
Rebecca Ephraim, SharedVISION publisher and student of Bikram Yoga

"Because I’m a runner, yoga makes me painfully aware of the tightness in my hips and hamstrings, and at the same time it releases these areas of my body and brings me into a state of relaxation.

I hate the way the practice of mindfulness makes me aware of the way I spin on topics over and over and over, and yet it’s only through this awareness that I can let these thoughts go."
Sarah Cockell, health psychologist and student of power yoga

"I love yoga because it somehow manages to bring my body, mind, and spirit together. It gives me a great workout that leaves me feeling invigorated and relaxed. What I hate about yoga is that the more I do it, the more I want to do it. Oh my gosh, I think I’m addicted! "
Audrey McCulloch, filmmaker and student of core yoga

"I love the way it calms my mind, the way it helps keep my body young and strong.

I love the thoughtful insights that my yoga teachers share about life and the pursuit of deeper meaning.

My pet peeve is if I don’t do yoga regularly I lose flexibility and off the mat it manifests itself in my being less skillful in flowing with the inevitable changes that life brings my way."
Mark Pezarro, principal, Earthvoice Strategies, (a strategic advice firm), and student of Iyengar yoga

"Love: feeling stretchy and bending, better posture, building heat up, warmth within, class moving as one, inspiring teachers, mix of stimulating energy and instilling calmness, cultivation of strength and compassion. Hate: balance postures (hard on the ego!), classes where we’re packed in like sardines, core postures that seem to be held for eternity."
Carla Morales, associate executive director of THEO BC and student of Hatha yoga

Compiled by SharedVISION editor Tamara Letkeman and yoga instructor Insiya Rasiwala

The Cat’s out of the Bag

admin — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 18:12:44 -0500

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Uncovering China’s Eco-Secrets

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Plagued by boycott threats and protests that nearly derailed the journey of the Olympic torch to Beijing, the 2008 Games have brought Chinese human rights and the issue of Tibet to the attention of the whole world. Environmentally, China—home to 16 of the world’s 20 most polluted cities—has been under pressure to drastically improve Beijing’s air quality by the time the Games kick off Aug. 8. It’s not a pretty—let alone sustainable—picture. But that didn’t stop Erica Gehrke, SharedVISION’s associate editor, from visiting the Middle Kingdom to see if she could glean a few rays of hope from the clouds of chaos. She reports to us from Shanghai.

Everyone loves a good secret. So when my English–Mandarin translator asked if I wanted to know her grandmother’s secret to longevity, I was on the edge of my seat waiting for her reply.
We were dining at Jujubetree Vegetarian Lifestyle, a well-known Buddhist restaurant in Shanghai and one of few places in the world that serves up a guaranteed “no smoking, no flesh, no egg products” dining experience. Or at least that’s what we were enjoying before my translator revealed that her family’s secret to longevity was eating cat placenta.

Cat placenta? I felt my face rapidly turn the colour of my green tea. She went on to explain that in Grandma’s day, life in rural Shanghai was tough. You did what you had to do to stay warm, feed the family, and stay alive.

With a history rife with revolution, famine, and upheaval, the Chinese have learned to be resourceful. But it struck me that the old ways of conserving everything were disappearing in a cement-dust cloud of extraordinary urban redevelopment.

Noxious fumes bellowed out of vehicles and factories, taxis idled on the streets, and blue plumes of cigarette smoke stung my eyes. By the end of the week, I felt as though I’d smoked an entire pack of those no-filter Chinese cigarettes called—I’m not making this up—“Long Life,” just by breathing.

What’s more, each night thousands of flashing neon signs turned Shanghai into a fireworks explosion of greenhouse gas emissions. Meanwhile, the sides of skyscrapers were transformed into massive advertising platforms with screens five storeys high flogging the latest consumer trends and music videos.

Coming from Vancouver, where all things verdant are forever in vogue along with everything eco-this and enviro-that, I was thrown into full-blown eco-anxiety at the end of my first week in China’s biggest city.

Yet, once the cigarette smoke cleared—if only for a nanosecond—I noticed environmental awareness is indeed surfacing in Shanghai in small but identifiable ways.

At first glance, the only indication that anyone gave a rat’s you-know-what was the profusion of British designer Anya Hindmarch’s “I Am Not a Plastic Bag” canvas totes slung across the shoulders of local fashionistas. But in People’s Square, the epicentre of Shanghai, little old ladies chased down tourists to relieve them of their empty plastic water bottles for recycling. Elderly men greeted morning commuters, eager to get their newspapers for the same purpose.

In addition, it turns out the must-have accessory in Shanghai—Anya Hindmarch bags aside—is a bicycle of any sort: pedal, electric, or even a stand-up electric scooter. And while Vancouver has a few designated bike routes scantily laced throughout the city, Shanghai’s bicycle lanes are ubiquitous and crowded with two-wheelers morning and night.

Even more promising are new trends in China’s manufacturing industries. One evening out, I was introduced to fellow Canuck and eco-preneur extraordinaire Jonathan Burke, whose company, Bodhi Group Limited, manufactures reusable bags made from recycled yogurt cups and water bottles. Talking with Jonathan eased the pangs of eco-guilt I’d been swallowing every morning with my single-serving plastic cup of yogurt.

And a conversation over dim sum with Peggy Liu, a Silicon Valley venture capitalist and chairperson of the non-profit Joint US-China Cooperation on Clean Energy (JUCCCE), left me hopeful that China may have a sustainable future. JUCCCE plans to aggressively promote the use of clean energy across China and make the country significantly more energy-efficient—within 10 years.

So while we may know China as the world leader in air and water pollution, it could prove to be an eco-warrior’s dream. Just think of the whispers of environmental awareness here as cat placenta… for the planet.

Erica Gehrke is still searching for the secret to longevity. Unfortunately, all the cats she knows are spayed.

How to converse with an eco-porn star

admin — Thu, 01 May 2008 21:07:13 -0500

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An eco-lexical eco-spasm for the eco-modern eco-age

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by MARK PETERS

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With apologies to “green” and “enviro,” there’s no doubt “eco” is the supreme prefix of the environmental movement.
According to the Oxford English Dictionary—the Bible of the English language, only with fewer lepers and begettings—“eco” detached from “ecology” as early as 1969, when examples of “eco-activist,” “eco-catastrophe,” and “ecocide” can be found. The OED also has subentries for “eco-art,” “ecodoom,” “ecofreak,” “eco-label,” “eco-nut,” “eco-raider,” “eco-terrorism,” and “eco-warrior,” but of course, these are just the tip of the eco-berg. Grist.org, the Seattle-based hip and sassy website for eco-journalism, has been the home of many others, including “eco-troubadour,” “eco-spasm,” “eco-sin,” “mega-eco-economics,” and “not-so-eco-doodad.”
Mostly, the proliferation of these words can be considered a good thing. If people weren’t increasingly eco-friendly, they wouldn’t dream up eco-museums, eco-villages, and eco-bras while worrying about eco-concerns and eco-nightmares. Even the existence of slurs such as “eco-obsessive,” “eco-Nazi,” and “eco-fundamentalism” can be considered a good sign in this sense: eco-worriers have got eco-hostiles pretty worried, too.
Many of these words will make jaded linguists reach for the brain bleach and an ear funnel. Yet word diversity—while not quite as crucial as species diversity—is similarly valuable. After all, not every species is an adorable, skittering chinchilla or noble, spear-wielding chimp, but where would we be without gazillions of sea slug species?
Though the following words range from barely tolerable to gloriously pointless, they must be preserved for future generations. Love ’em or loathe ’em, these are some of the most preposterous, distasteful, entertaining—and, in all cases, real—uses of the eco- prefix.
Eco-porn
Don’t worry; this is safe for work. “Eco-porn” is a cousin of metaphorical expressions like “wedding porn,” “electoral porn,” “wine porn,” “gastroporn,” and “9/11 popcorn porn.” Paul McFedries’ Word Spy (wordspy.com) defines eco-porn as “a corporate advertisement that extols the company’s environmental record or policies,” usually with lush natural images—and most likely a boatload of hypocrisy as well.
Ecobot
The first Ecobot was a seemingly harmless, battery-free, sugar-eating creation of British scientists that looked kind of like a fire alarm (the bot, not the Brits). Ecobot 2, their second unholy creation, had a pseudo-stomach that fed on dead flies and rotten apples. Both Ecobots were able to perform phototaxis—“moving toward the light”—which is what I fear we may all be doing soon if these fly-eating toasters continue to evolve. (I’ve clearly watched too much Battlestar Galactica.)
Eco-whistleblower
In good news for the snitched-upon, ratted-out, and stool-pigeoned, tattletales are now compostable. Well, sort of. This word became necessary after the Bush administration (in September 2006) reversed precedent and took away whistleblower rights from the Clean Air Act. So if an Environmental Protection Agency employee eco-snitches on the government, that employee could be fired and, the way things are going, probably waterboarded without a trial.
Ecosynergy
There’s not a fouler corporate buzzword than “synergy.” I once had a co-worker who used the word with such frequent, punishing regularity that I suspect he was raised on PowerPoint presentations and cappuccinos rather than Dr. Seuss and mother’s milk. Everything he, I, or my uncle did created synergy. Meetings had synergy. Lunch had synergy. Paper clips had synergy. Taken literally, ecosynergy is likely a fine thing, but if I see this or another variation of synergy (what’s next? Franken-synergy? choco-synergy?) one more time I fear my self-inflicted lobotomy will have little synergy.
Eco-mafia
If you cross the eco-mafia, you’ll just wish you were sleeping with the fishes: you’re more likely to nap with the hazardous ooze. The enviro-mafioso forgo wholesome, traditional revenue sources like gambling and prostitution in favour of dumping and illegal construction. Their slogan: Take the cannoli, leave the toxic waste.
Eco-elves
In London, the Recycle Western Riverside group’s eco-elves talk about recycling door-to-door, on the tube, and at malls. Though the eco-elves are doing the world a solid, I don’t look forward to future Christmases that may bring eco-reindeer, eco-eggnog, or an eco-Christ child. EconolomicsHere’s a word with a noble purpose and a less-than-musical sound. Econolomics is defined on Word Spy as “Sustainable living through environmentally friendly business practices.” Who could argue with that? Like ecosynergy, econolomics is beneficial. But can’t we find a name for it that isn’t so reminiscent of high colonics?
Ecosexual
If the word “metrosexual” makes you want to remove your own eyeballs with a spork, you’d better hide the silverware.Ecosexuals, apparently, are hip young urbanites who care about recycling as much as hair products. Instead of man-hands and eating peas one at a time, their deal-breakers are non-recyclers and anti-eco-deodorant. Did the world really need another smarmy buzzword?
Eco-kill me now.
Mark Peters is a freelance writer who writes for Grist.org and other media. His lively linguistic lunacy can be read at Wordlustitude (wordlust.blogspot.com).

Couples' Retreats and Root Canals

admin — Thu, 31 Jan 2008 14:31:55 -0600

Sub-Title

It's all about digging deep

Author

by REBECCA EPHRAIM

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The low point came several weeks before the couples’ workshop when Ron, my significant other, said he’d rather undergo root canal surgery. Or maybe it was a few days before we left for the workshop when he “joked” about getting prepared for “emotional waterboarding” (waterboarding being that infamous form of torture the U.S. military employs).

Oh, he wasn’t having second thoughts about going—he’s committed to me and our relationship and was determined to see it through (much like root canal surgery). But it was his prerogative to attend under protest, and he knew it. Of course, it’s his authenticity that I find so appealing, even though I wanted him to want this adventure as much as I did.

At any rate, clearly, I was the “dragger” and Ron was the “draggee” to this five-day retreat in December called “Sharing the Path” (surprise: not all the draggers were women). Held at Esalen Institute, a stunning retreat centre nestled in the cliffs of California’s Big Sur and legendary as the birthplace of the Human Potential Movement, we and 13 other couples lost ourselves for five days in an exploration of all aspects of our most intimate relationship. Although I can’t speak for the other couples, Ron and I came away flush with new skills that have enhanced our communication, our intimacy, and our lovemaking.

Lovemaking 101

After this workshop, I’m convinced that, as a culture, most of us learned our basic sexual skills in the back seat of a ’60, ’70, or ’80 Chevy. And those “basics”—clumsy and primitive as they are—ushered us into adulthood.

It’s too bad. I’ve heard of indigenous tribes where, as part of a coming-of-age ritual, an older woman is assigned to school a young man in the art of lovemaking. Now that’s civilized.

I need to pause here to share with you the real definition of lovemaking, a workshop gem that is serving us well. Lovemaking goes beyond sex. Lovemaking is also showing your partner how much you care, in unlimited ways. It could be a soft and knowing touch, a neck rub, a kind word, running an errand for your partner, a generous hug, or a heartfelt “thank-you.”

Judith and Robert Gass, our amazingly wise relationship teachers (with plenty of experience, having been married to each other for 40 years), gave an example of themselves that many of us can relate to: Judith is working intently at the computer and Robert comes up behind, touches her shoulders, and kisses her neck. Instead of waving Robert away, snapping “I’m busy, leave me alone,” she tries a different approach. It goes like this: pause, breathe, acknowledge the adoring gesture, and say something like, “Sweetheart, that’s very nice and I love your touch, but I need to concentrate on this right now.”

Sensitive interactions like this keep each partner coming back for more. With this approach, you’ve just made love to each other and it had nothing to do with the bedroom. (Or perhaps it has everything to do with the bedroom, as it puts you both in a very generous mood toward one another.)

And as for the Chevy back seat, while having desire is one thing, possessing technique is quite another. For the evening sessions, we were split into men’s and women’s groups. Judith, with the women, and Robert, with the men, encouraged us to speak openly (and always confidentially) about our sexual history and how it has shaped our perceptions, for better or worse. Their instruction on advanced physical loving spanned a wide girth, from pleasuring approaches and staying present, to tantric sex (eye-gazing, synchronized breathing). Practice sessions were encouraged. Ron was warming up to this workshop stuff.

Emotional Spelunking

Of course, discussions of sex are always provocative. It was the other assignments Ron dreaded: they required daring emotional spelunking into the very core of one’s shadow self. These jagged, often unexplored, recesses are deep emotional wounds that, when probed, can evoke outpourings of anger, fear, unworthiness, and/or abandonment (to name just a few; you probably know yours). These reactions are toxic to intimate relationships. The good news is that when faced with the courage and caring and skills that Judith and Robert taught, newly learned behaviours can catapult our intimacy to higher levels.

Despite his earlier dramatics, Ron was a delightfully able partner, helping guide me through some particularly dicey emotional moments.

I already have my eye on Robert and Judith’s advanced couples’ workshop in 2009. Ron is talking about scheduling a dentist appointment.

Rebecca Ephraim, publisher of SharedVISION, is a natural-born dragger.

Robert and Judith Gass (sacredunion.com) will be presenting their “Sharing the Path” workshop in August at Hollyhock Retreat Centre on Cortes Island (hollyhock.ca).

Never Forget How to Love

admin — Thu, 30 Aug 2007 22:20:25 -0500

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Loreena McKennitt on music, passion and giving back

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Canadian singer/composer Loreena McKennitt, who performs at Vancouver’s Orpheum Theatre Sept. 30, is best known for her soaring and melodious Celtic music. The self-made musician has sold more than 13 million records worldwide.

Despite international success and personal adversity (her partner, Ronald Rees, died in 1998), McKennitt remains an active member of her community of Stratford, Ont. Here, she describes what makes her tick.

My starting point is the belief that, in one way or another, we are all an extension of each other’s history. Wanting to learn about our neighbours is also a desire to learn about ourselves. I have simply chosen the Celtic vehicle in which to do this.

Beyond music, I have a free-ranging curiosity about many things and a pretty hefty filing cabinet to prove it! My drawers are full of clippings on subjects ranging from childhood development to environmental issues, agriculture, politics, food and nutrition, puppets, religion, and many world issues.

I think it’s important to give to and be part of our greater communities. In 1998, I started the Cook-Rees Memorial Fund for Water Search and Safety, when three people very dear to me—Ronald Rees, Richard Rees, and Gregory Cook—perished in a boating incident not far from where I live. Another project close to my heart has been the establishment of the Falstaff Family Centre, a redundant schoolhouse in Stratford which is now a centre for community and children’s activities.

Certain principles have become my compass points. I reference them whenever I make important choices and decisions. They are things to which I strive and I am pleased to share some of them with you.

Be compassionate and never forget how to love.

Think inclusively.

Reclaim noble values such as truth, honesty, honour, courage.

Be empathetic.

Look after the less fortunate in society.

Respect one’s elders and look to what they have to teach you.

Promote and protect diversity.

Respect the gifts of the natural world.

Set your goals high and take pride in what you do.

Cherish and look after your body, and, as the ancient Greeks believed, your mind will serve you better.

Put back into the community, as there have
been those before you who have done the
same and you are reaping what they sowed.

Participate in and protect democracy. It does not thrive as a spectator sport.

Undertake due diligence in everything.

Seek balance and space, and solitude.

Don’t be afraid to feel passionate about something.

Learn to be an advocate and an ambassador for good.

Be mindful of your limitations.

Indulge and nurture your curiosity, as it will keep you vital.

Take charge of your life and don’t fall into the pit of entitlement.

Assume nothing and take nothing for granted.

Things are not necessarily what they seem.

Loreena McKennitt’s latest CD is An Ancient Muse. Her brand-new DVD set, Nights From the Alhambra, is available at quinlanroad.com.