Chapter 112
Well, that went fast didn’t it?
I remember days at school when perms were just becoming a normality for those girls that were into that sort of dressing up and makeup thing, and, not being one of those animals, sitting with my other oddball friend, ruminating on the fact that in 2020 we would be 55 years old! Yikes.
Here it is. I managed to circumnavigate not only the globe, multiple times, but many other things in the intervening 40 years or so. From sitting in a classroom dodging the flying blackboard erasers and whistling bits of chalk to sitting at a marble kitchen counter typing on a wafer-thin computer the likes of which hadn’t even been imagined then.
Back in the dark ages of comprehensive schooling in southern England… the new- fangled language-learning techniques included incarcerating students in cubicles with giant headsets and recorded transcripts to talk along with. I remember the terror of those unimaginably heavy headphone contraptions being attached to my head. It did not work for me, I struggled and stressed and agonised over French lessons. Everything else came with relative ease, but the language thing just mangled my head and turned me into a stuttering ninny within seconds. In the face of an angry teacher I protested “maybe it’s not just me, maybe it’s the teacher”. You can imagine how well that went down. That’s my last memory of being wrangled into a language lab, although I’m sure it didn’t magically extricate me.
We sat geography exams with bits of string – calculating distances on Ordinance Survey maps, allowed to take slide-rules into Maths exams, and compared and contrasted all kinds of passages from classic English texts. The small folded papers of the ‘O’ Level exams are flags of nostalgic horror. “Could do better” reports. The multicoloured panel I drew and hung across the foot of my bed “Have you done your homework?” I was terrified of falling short of expectations.
And now, I continue this missive from the sun-kissed slopes of the Tonto Forest in Arizona. Just a few hours ago, wading knee-deep in snow around the brilliantly romantic Christmassy scenes of Bragg and Redwood, now bare-legged, surrounded by cacti, squeaking red-headed birds, fluffy white dogs and beautiful horses – my current charges.
The ease with which a short flight transforms my daily experience from winter to desert highs and lows is somewhat mind-boggling. Unimaginable a couple of generations ago, now it’s commonplace to zip around the planet, for folk to spend half the year up north, half down south. What a luxury it is to be alive now, despite all the angst and terrorising of societies by their governments to keep ‘em in line.
It struck me quite forcibly, however, on arriving in a parking lot for grocery shopping, how insanely wealthy this North American continent is. In our area, we are so privileged compared to the vast majority of humanity, it’s very hard to keep perspective. We have a brilliant geographic place to live, fantastic opportunities to work for ourselves, to be creative, innovative, inspirational. We have all kinds of amenities… and then I come here and I am shocked at the even more obvious wealth, the shiny new cars everywhere, the amount of money charged for basic services. Much is cheaper in the US due to their subsidies, but there are some things that I’m looking at… three times as expensive as back in Alberta, but still thriving. Wow.
And then there are all those for whom these observations are mythical fantasy. The millions for whom putting food on the table each day is a stressful challenge, raising kids is a never-ending subtle anxiety to do the best one can, to provide food, shelter, education, clothing, entertainment, community. I am awe-struck by mothers, home- schoolers, single parents, double parents, combinations of weird and wonderful parents unimaginable a few decades ago. We all get by somehow.
Made it through the holiday season relatively unscathed? Remember that time spent with loved ones is priceless. “Bargains” in the stores are other people’s slave wages. Spend your time, not your money. Walk in the glory of nature and hold hands with your friends, children, and/or loved ones. We never know when the next step ceases and the new adventure beyond this life begins.
Bliss you all.
With gratitude and love,
Kat Dancer
bodymudra@gmail.com
www.kat-dancer.com
415.525.2630, ph/txt/wtsp
