Posted on May 7, 2020 under Thursday Tidbits with no comments yet

Return from outer space

(Pete MacDonald photo)

 

 

“Ground control to Major Tom,

Ground control to Major Tom,

Take your protein pills and put your helmet on.”

Space Oddity – David Bowie

So, you have just returned from a two- year stint at the International Space Station. That is a long time to be away from home. You have been in a weightless environment. You feel a bit disoriented as you put your feet on Mother Earth for the first time in 730 days. You begin the process of decompression, but something seems odd and disorienting. Space travel will do this. You indeed feel a little spaced out.

You are finally reunited with your loved ones. You have dreamed about this day. You have pined for their company, their smiles, their touches. Then why in the hell are they treating you like you are some goddam parasite? They scarcely make eye contact. Loved ones? What a bunch of insensitive assholes. Not only do they refuse to hug or kiss you, they won’t even shake your effing hand. Has there been an invasion of space aliens since you left home? Ground control to Major Tom. Send me back into space.

As you make your way from mission control back to your hometown, you notice the paucity of vehicles on the highway. Where are all the cars and trucks? Are people flying around in space vehicles? The streets of your hometown are absolutely deserted. It looks like a ghost town.

You enter your house. It has a decidedly different feel to it. There are bottles of hand sanitizer everywhere and it seems like the family is trying their level best to avoid you. But then you notice that they are avoiding each other too. Everyone looks like they’ve put on weight. You wonder if your vision hasn’t yet adapted to your new reality back on terra firma. You rub your eyes. They all still look fat.

It is midweek and the middle of the day. Is everyone at home because they can’t wait to see you? Sorry, loser. They are being paid by the government to stay home and not work. They are all wearing t-shirts that say “FU Covid”. Who in the hell is this guy Covid? Is he the leader of a new cult that has emerged in your absence? Those not wearing the ubiquitous FU Covid t-shirts are wearing Netflix t-shirts. Of course, t-shirts are optional as it appears that people wear pajamas all day.

Feeling the need to get away from your family (you’ve spent a grand total of 3 hours with them), you decide to go for a walk, as your muscles have atrophied in space. You’re a bit wobbly as you head to the mall to pick up some real food at the grocery store. Outside the grocery store there is a lineup of silent zombies wearing face masks. You would think that they would be overjoyed to see their famous neighbor. They barely grunt as they keep their feet on their designated space.

The neighborhood grocery store, an important meeting place for generations, has all the appeal of a morgue. It is deathly quiet as if speaking might wake the dead. There are arrows on the floor and the herd marches silently, aisle to aisle. While the shelves are mostly stocked, there are two noticeable exceptions – flour and toilet paper. The checkout clerk has a huge spray bottle of disinfectant in her hands.  You wonder if it’s for you. You relax when you see the cashier wiping down the counter.

Upon exiting the store, you notice that there is a similar lineup at the provincial liquor store. This is puzzling. You have been told by your loving (?) kin that all stores are closed other than essential services like pharmacies. You meander over to the liquor store and ask someone in the lineup about this seeming paradox. They tell you that the provincial government has deemed that the sale of alcohol and legalized marijuana is an essential service. So, I can’t buy any flour, but I can step inside the NSLC and buy a bag of weed.

You come to the stark realization that you have spent far too long in space.

Your beloved library is closed but you are able to get the book you most desire on Kindle.

“Brave New World”.

“This is Major Tom to ground control

I’m stepping through the door

And I’m floating in a most peculiar way,

And the stars look very different today.”

 

 

 

 

 

Posted on May 4, 2020 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

 

“The Gift” – A Keith Currie original

 

Start with one simple, positive act.

It is very hard to remain positive these days. Most of us are cocooned in our homes, watching too much television and eating too much food. Not everyone, mind you. Our heroes working in nursing homes, tending to our love ones as they battle the specter of Covid-19 while battling loneliness, must show up for work every day. Ditto for all our health care workers, first responders and our RCMP who do their best to keep us safe even when all hell is breaking loose. Our grocery store employees and those actively involved in the supply chain are certainly not sitting at home picking out their next Netflix series.

How do we battle all the negative forces surrounding us? How do we overcome feelings of loneliness and despair? How do we reclaim optimism when it seems so elusive?

I have a suggestion and it doesn’t involve legalized marijuana.

Start your day off by making your bed.

Oh my, Len, you truly need to get way more fresh air and possibly some counselling… or both. “Are you suggesting that making my bed first thing in the morning is going to change everything?”

It might change your attitude.

You see, the simple act of making your bed is a small victory. You have just completed your first task of the day. It is a simple task, but you will feel like you started your day on a positive note. From there, you can just build on it. It might encourage you to do other things. This is where your “to do” list comes in real handy.

I am a notorious list maker. Of course, I always have a grocery list on the go on my fridge. The fridge is a very popular place these days. Long before I started having lapses in memory, I was a list maker. (You know the kind – you walk down the hall and enter a room and can’t remember what you were looking for? Yup. I see you nodding. Glad it’s not just me!), Lists remind us of the things we want to accomplish on any given day. There is something very satisfying about putting a check mark beside a job completed. I seriously believe it triggers dopamine. Dopamine is one of those feel good chemicals in our brain that plays a vital role in how happy we feel.

Three positive things.

Long before Covid-19, I was struggling in my new role as a classroom teacher in Northern Quebec. I have admitted openly and will do so again in this space, that I felt completely overwhelmed when I arrived in the north. I left home with most of my worldly possessions including some personal baggage which I have been trying to unpack. I arrived in November. The days were long and dark. It was bitterly cold and I found myself back in a classroom for the first time in 40 years.

About two months in, I was laying out my woes to one of my work colleagues. After listening to me bitch, whine and complain, she offered me this piece of advice: “Every morning when you get up, write down three positive things that happened to you in the past 24 hours.” I liked the idea but wasn’t sure if I could conjure up three positive things. I realized that these didin’t have to be big things. Drinking the first cup of coffee is a positive thing. No, it is much more important than THAT. It is the salvation of mankind. While your coffee is brewing, make your bed.

That small piece of advice got my dopamine firing. It wasn’t dramatic at first, but I did find in time, that I started to look for positive things in my day. And I started to feel more optimistic.

Making your bed. Writing down a “to do” list. Trying to find a few positive things every day. None of these will help in finding a vaccine for Covid-19 but they may help you get through the next day with a bit more purpose.

You’ve made your bed, now lie on it.

But don’t forget to make it once you get up!

Have a great week.

P.S.

I would like to propose to town and county officials that they host a massive post coronavirus party when better days allow us to mingle. Music, dance, art, and food from our local restaurants would go a long way in bringing back joy and community.

P.P.S. I commissioned a former classmate of mine from high school and university, Keith Currie,to paint this picture. A friend in Northern Quebec gave me some seal ribs and arctic char as a gift.