Q of the Week: Animal Rescue

But first, a story.

Let’s imagine that there is a dog who was rescued from an animal shelter somewhere in Quebec. Let’s call this dog GP, because he was a Great Pyraneese. Let’s say he was first taken to the shelter because he was found by emergency services at a home where he couldn’t receive the care he needed. Let’s also say that he had a kill order on his head because he had bitten someone. But as anyone who knows anything about dog behaviour will tell you (and I know very little about dog behaviour, but I’m living with two people who know a great deal indeed) this is a normal and natural thing for a dog to do when he is protecting his home from an intruder.

GP came to live here with us for a short time. We found him to be a loveable, happy, playful, and friendly animal. We saw no evidence of the problems of which we had been warned. We were only fostering him, not keeping him, so we had him for only a little more than a week until a new home had been found for him. I got to like him a lot, and at one time my partner and I volunteered to take him ourselves if another home could not be found. Later on, however, at his new home, he bit two other people in the space of a few days, and therefore he was put down.

We who had fostered him for even that short time were very upset when we heard he had bitten a human for a third time. The dog being described to us in the accounts of the biting simply wasn’t anything like the dog we knew and loved who we fostered: the behaviour was very different. That, however, is what fostering a dog often entails. If you agree to foster a rescued dog, you will be opening your home to a truamatised and psychologically damaged animal, who almost certainly has a variety of unpredictable anxieties and fears, and may panic or attack or cower in fear for no obvious reason. The animal may have come from a puppy mill, for instance, and thus have been treated with brutality, contempt, and neglect. But it will almost always give affection in return for affection, and will pull your heartstrings in every way.

So my question is: if you could save an animal’s life by fostering it in your home, until the rescue agencies can find a permanent home for it, would you do so? It can mean falling in love with an animal who is fearful and anxious and hard to predict and hard to handle, and may have to be put down anyway. You would be signing up for frustration and heartbreak and trouble and expense. Would you do it anyway?

“Let the animal shelters and humane societies take care of them”, you might say. But that might not be the way to actually save the animal’s life, nor the way to give it anything like a desirable quality of life. For instance, a few days ago Toronto Police laid criminal charges for animal cruelty on five directors of the Toronto Humane Society. The Toronto Humane Society had a no-kill policy. But the animals kept there were so badly diseased and malnourished that arguably putting them down would have been profoundly merciful. As the CBC report said, the building was “absolutely disease infested”, and “one officer recalled a cat whose skin came off in his hands when the officer lifted the cat up”.

I’ve been informed from reliable sources that other animal shelters which do have kill policies are so overwhelmed with dogs and cats that any animals that arrive there are put down within as little as three days. They simply do not have the funds, the space, the personnel, or the food, to house any more. Moreover, people often drop off their animals there for frivolous reasons: the dog isn’t a puppy anymore, or it barks too much, or is too much “trouble” to look after. We have so many disposable things in our consumer culture as it is: your shirt looses one button so you throw it out and get a new one. Your radio gets scratched and dented so you throw it out and buy a new one. Why now throw out your animals too? A friend described to me how she saw a man came to an animal shelter, dropped off a dog that was tied up in a plastic bag, and left it there, and drove off immediately. It is perhaps because of stories or experiences like these, that some animal rights activists become very militant and misanthropic, prepared to commit acts of civil disobedience, vandalism, and violence in the service of animal rescue.

(Or, while we are throwing out our shirts and radios and dogs, why not throw out people? You have one disagreement or argument with your newly wedded husband or wife, so you get a divorce. But I digress).

If you were to foster a rescued dog or cat in your home, you would almost certainly be saving its life, and also making space in a local shelter for another needy animal. So would you do it?

Posted in Archive 2007-2009 | Tagged | 17 Comments

“Status update”, and a Q of the Week

This past weekend Juni and I went to Raven’s Knoll, for one more work-weekend: she and I and about half a dozen others worked on securing various things in the campground for the winter. I still have a bit of stiffness in my lower back from lifting entire tree trunks and other heavy things. But it’s still great fun to be there, and I find myself growing to love the site more and more each time I visit.

But at the same time, my money supply is quickly dwindling, and I’m still unemployed. The temp agencies I registered with back in August keep telling me that they can’t do anything with me because they are waiting on my security clearance – which is perhaps true, since in the previous five years I have lived in so many places. But it’s been four months now. How long does it take! I’m getting frustrated. While I wait on the temp agencies, I’m applying for jobs in services and retail, but finding myself terribly over-qualified for them. One rejection letter I recently received even said so! On top of that, the engine in our van completely died, so we have no transport now. We’ll probably have to sell it for scrap. It’s looking more and more likely that I will not be able to get home to Elora for christmas with my family.

Naturally, I have hope that lots of people will buy one of my books for their solstice / yule / christmas gift-giving, or that lots of people will hire me for one of my various professional services, or for public speaking at your next convention or festival. I can promise that when I do a workshop, no one will die. I also promise that my books are written with a coherent prose, and can be fact-checked, and will not do damage to the very movement I profess to support, unlike other more popular books I could name.

Right now, my book royalties are my only source of income. And since I am not Dan Brown, it’s not much. But having said that, an important question appears in my mind. At what point does the work of marketing of one’s own product or service transition from straightforward self-promotion to egotistical self-aggrandizing? How much promotion work is the right amount, and how much is annoyingly too much?

A friend of mine in Toronto recently published a novel. I joined the Facebook group in which she describes and promotes the book, in order to show friendship, and to see whether her book might be of interest to a few people I know. I got so many promotional messages from the FB group, sometimes several in the same day, that I became rather annoyed, and left. I’ll almost certainly not buy the book. But another friend of mine, who lives in England and who published some truly excellent books, hardly promotes himself at all: I discovered to my complete surprise that he had written two more books since the last time I saw him, five years ago.

In both cases, these people will perhaps not sell as many books as they otherwise could. Where is the happy medium between them? How can it be found?

Posted in Archive 2007-2009 | 4 Comments

I’m getting the shot.

Normally, I don’t go for the regular seasonal flu shot. That’s because I normally live alone, and so I am not normally at great risk of contracting the flu nor at risk of passing it on to others. But I think this time I should choose differently.

I have decided that I will get the H1N1 inoculation. I have found most of the objections and criticisms of the mass inoculation rather spurious: for instance, Canada’s supply is coming from a company in Australia, which is not owned by Donald Rumsfeld. And while it is certainly true that there are other more virulent diseases out there, such as AIDS, and while it is true that disease can be reduced by reducing poverty, or increasing the amount of green space in cities, nonetheless these are separate questions from the question of whether I myself should be inoculated. Sure, I want less poverty, and more parks, and so on, but I also want to be spared a deadly disease. And I certainly don’t want to be responsible for transmitting it to anyone else, least of all the five new babies born to friends of mine in the last two years.

And sure, I want to see the corruption in our capitalist economy exposed and stopped, but if I refuse to take the H1N1 shot, I won’t really do anything to further that goal. All it will do is make me more vulnerable to the disease, and make me a potential carrier who could infect other people. And the money the government already spent to prepare the shot for me will have been wasted. By contrast, by taking the shot, I reduce the risk to me and to dozens, perhaps hundreds, of other people who might pick it up from me: on city buses, in shops or workplaces, and so on. And most importantly, I demonstrate my moral and political support for Canada’s public health care system.

As it is, the public inoculation will likely spare 100,000 people an extended hospital visit, and prevent an estimated 10,000 deaths, and spare our public health care system the cost of caring for all of those people (a cost far greater than the cost of immunizing the whole country). That was the scenario described by Canada’s chief of public health, a few days ago, of what would happen if we did not immunize the country. Furthermore, the number of people who get ill from the shot itself is likely to be only two or three dozen people (not hundreds), out of thirty million. The stories of people getting sick from the inoculation tend to spread fast, because it’s exciting and scary news, and fits well into the world view of those already predisposed to distrust the government, or the drug companies, or various corporate interests. But I’ve never seen such a story coming from a clearly reputable source, such as a scientific report. I’ve only ever seen it come from scared individuals passing on chain email letters. That kind of source simply isn’t good enough for me.

In the end, I suspect that those who don’t want the shot are just people who don’t trust the government in general, or the big drug companies, and therefore must invent reasons not to trust what those institutions do, even when it is in their own best interest to reason otherwise. Perhaps some people think that the goal of getting the government out of their lives is worth the risk of death by influenza. But I don’t make my moral judgements in that utilitarian, radically individualist, and paranoid way.

Or, perhaps those who don’t want the shot are just people who get squeamish around needles. Well I’m squeamish around needles too. But I can swallow that fear long enough to get the shot, and thus potentially save a few people from dying, possibly including myself.

Here’s some information from much more reliable sources than chain-emails:

from CBC News

from Health Canada

Posted in Archive 2007-2009 | 15 Comments

Question of the Week: What is your religion?

I asked a Christian monastic, What is your religion? He said, it is as Christ taught: to Love your neighbour as yourself.

I asked a Jewish scholar, who answered: My religion is what the prophet Isaiah taught: to deal bread to the hungry, find homes for the homeless, give clothes to the naked, and to let the oppressed be free.

I asked a Hindu yogi, and he taught me that his religion is seeing God within all things, and all things within God; to see God within himself, and to see himself within God.

I asked a Buddhist monk, and he told me that his religion flows from the Buddha nature within himself, which substitutes compassion for attachment.

I asked a Taoist master, What is your religion? He said, I am not sure I have a religion, but I have observed the gentlest thing in the world overcome the hardest, and so I blunt the sharpness, untie the knots, soften my glare, and settle my dust.

I asked a Muslim cleric, and he said that religion is submission to God, and submission to Peace: and I do this through guardianship, oneness, prayer, charity, fasting, pilgrimage, and my personal struggle against sin.

I asked an Aboriginal Elder, and he said that all things are home to the spirit, and therefore all things deserve profound respect.

I asked a Wiccan seeker, and she said her religion is perfect love and perfect trust.

I asked a Druid philosopher, and he spoke of three candles that illuminate every darkness: truth, nature, and knowledge.

And you, my friend, what is your religion?

Posted in Archive 2007-2009 | 18 Comments

Q of the Week: Back to the Land

As I help out with the work of getting Raven’s Knoll ready for next year’s festival and events season, I find myself thinking about all various attempts by ecologically conscious people to go “back to the land”. That is, I’m thinking of all the people I’ve met over the years who have dreamed of building eco-communes, intentional communities, and the like; those who dreamed of living in an environmentally sustainable or low-impact home, on a mostly self-sustaining organic farm. On Philip Carr-Gomm’s blog I saw a link and a video about That Round House, a low-impact “deliberate peasant” home in Pembrokeshire, Wales. My girlfriend then sent me links to a cob home in British Columbia, and also a cordwood home in eastern USA.

Continued here…

Posted in Archive 2007-2009 | 24 Comments

The Instructions of Cormac, and misogyny

wisewomanjudith recently drew my attention to a post in Oenach, an LJ community which discusses Celtic spirituality. In this post, one of my favourite old Irish wisdom texts, The Instructions of King Cormac Mac Airt, was discussed. There is a chapter in that text which is highly mysogynist in nature, and nobody (including me) ever quotes it. I’ve acknowledge in my own published works the existence of that chapter (which other writers normally do not do) and tried to address what its presence in the corpus of Celtic literary history might mean.

Here is a short excerpt from that notorious chapter:

‘O grandson of Conn, O Cormac,’ said Carbre, ‘how do you distinguish women?’

‘Not hard to tell,’ said Cormac. ‘I distinguish them, but I make no difference among them.’
They are crabbed as constant companions,
haughty when visited,
lewd when neglected,
sily counsellors,
greedy of increase,
they have tell-tale faces,
they are quarrelsome in company,
desirous of letting go,
greedy of gifts,
putting up with exaggeration,
hard and grasping,
steadfast in hate,
forgetful in love,
thirsting for lust,
anxious for alliance,
accustomed to slander,
dishonest in an assembly…

…and on and on like that for 122 lines. I don’t think it’s necessary to continue quoting it here.

As to whether it represents a Celtic iron-age attitude, or a new attitude that appeared in Celtic culture with the arrival of Christianity: I think that given the age of the text (early 9th century CE), and the fact that Christian references are very few and far between, and the consistency with other known early texts, it is safe to say it represents a pre-Christian Celtic point of view.

Those who find themselves drawn to a Celtic spirituality, especially to an early Celtic spirituality, are faced with an important and serious conundrum. They need to decide how to respond to expressions of social values found in the source texts, like misogyny, which are entirely morally repugnant to us today. Should we simply cherry-pick the sources for the parts we like, and ignore the parts we don’t? Well, that would be one way to do it. Christians do it of the Bible all the time: for instance, adulterers are no longer punished with stoning. But one logical result of that strategy is that the more we modify, cherry-pick, and otherwise interpret the ancient sources in order to acommodate contemporary moral values, the less right we may have to claim to be practicing an ‘authentically’ Celtic spirituality. Well, then, perhaps ‘authenticity’ should not be one of our goals. But perhaps this defeats the purpose?

I have been thinking about this conundrum for many, many years. I believe it is unresolvable, and that investigating it further often results in heaping extraordinary disrespect upon the people of living Celtic cultures in Ireland and Britain and the diaspora today: the very culture in which I grew up. For those reasons, I’m no longer interested in strict “reconstructionism”. I’m afraid I don’t care enough about America’s so-called “culture wars” to involve myself in the ugly and useless questions of whether Celtic culture is a culture, or just a language; or whether some particular practice is or is not “Celtic”, having emerged from a theoretically pure pre-Christian time, or whether it was “contaminated” by influence from other cultures or religions. Really, I just don’t care. The integrity of your character, the humanity in your relations with others, and the enchantment of your world matters more than the purity of your culture. I will never tire of repeating that simple proposition, because I think it is an honest one, and goes directly to the heart of what really matters.

For that reason, I’m happy to entirely ignore the mysogyny in texts like the Instructions of Cormac. And anyway, I’m the sort of fellow who can find philosophical insight in a recipe book, and in a technical manual on building log cabins. So I’m not at a loss for alternative inspiration.

Posted in Archive 2007-2009 | 12 Comments

Q of the Week: Abusive Parents

My friend Juniper posted a very interesting question to her blog recently:

Is a person obligated to care for an aging parent who had been abusive and/or neglectful to them, and what if they continue to be at least verbally abusive?

Read the whole thing here.

Here are a few of my own thoughts: but I invite you to contribute yours too.

Beneath the LJ cut

Posted in Archive 2007-2009 | 8 Comments

Q of the Week: Faith and Belief

Well I completely enjoyed Kaleidoscope this year! Remember when I said that my attendance at KG had nothing to do with elephants? Well, in fact there was an elephant at KG this year. I helped to make it (although Jeff and Auz did almost all of the work, really).

Not too much other than that going on. Two weeks ago, I had an interview with a temp agency here in Ottawa, and I left it feeling very confident and enthusiastic about being placed in a good position in the early fall. I’m also going over the manuscript of Loneliness and Revelation for the last time, and I will probably upload it to the publisher later today. I’m looking forward to the work weekends on Raven’s Knoll (those who attended KG know what this means), and also looking forward to a visit from my lady from out west…

Ahem. So, on to the question of the week.

Do you “believe” anything? Have you “faith” in the gods, or in impersonal spiritual forces like fate or destiny, or the like? I ask partly because I’m not sure if I do. I find myself swiftly coming to the view that concepts like faith and belief might not be the right kind of concepts to describe my spiritual life. I don’t have “faith” in anything. But I do have certain cultural, philosophical, and spiritual commitments. For instance I find myself committed to a certain tribe of people who surround me. I’m also committed to certain values and ideas which I have learned from Celtic mythology, from my own examination of nature, and of my own mind and heart.

Faith, as perhaps most people understand it, is like a belief in the existence of things which you otherwise have little or no reason to believe in. St. Paul himself seems to confirm this: he defined faith as “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1.) In many ways this notion of faith enables people to entertain beliefs in things, ideas, people, spiritual realities, etc., for which they have no rational argument, nor any empirical evidence; the emotional and perhaps irrational wish for such things being the only evidence that the faithful person needs. It sounds simple and elegant. Leo Tolstoy wrote in his “Confession” that such simple faith enabled him to avoid suicidal despair. But I think that Richard Dawkins might be right when he characterises faith as a form of non-thinking. I simply cannot have that in my own spirituality. I need to know things before I can commit my life to them. And before anyone stigmatizes and attacks me for being a doubting Thomas (a classic case of the adversariam fallacy, and a sign of a dogmatic mind), let me observe that useful and reliable knowledge can come from many sources: the sensory organs of my body, the work of my hands, and the contemplations of my mind, just as a few examples.

Other, less dogmatic understandings of the role of faith exist, and need not imply a confrontation or a rejection of reason. An op-ed piece in The Guardian a few weeks back, entitled Metaphysical Mistake, described how mythos and logos were two fields of knowledge with well-defined and distinct roles to play in human life; I found the author’s argument persuasive. To understand the world, live in it, use it, and even change it, we need reason, scientific enquiry, and the like (designated by this author with the word logos); for our social values, our artistic directions, and the like, which logos cannot supply, we have mythos: the stories of the doings of our gods, ancestors, predecessors, and heroes.

And so, friends, I put the question to you. Does faith and belief have a role in your spiritual life? What is that role? Or, like me, do you instead have commitments?

Posted in Archive 2007-2009 | 11 Comments

Q of the Week: What if you don’t have any Elders?

Wow, it’s been a long while since I posted a Question of the Week, hasn’t it?

Sorry about that. It seems that Sunday is no longer the most convenient day of the week for me to be doing this. I’ve also started on some of those big changes in my life that I’ve hinted at. I’m blogging to you now from the fine locality of Barrhaven, a suburb of Ottawa. I also finished Book the Fifth (which I suppose I should start calling by its proper title now).

Some of you noted that I was a guest blogger on The Wild Hunt, during the week that Jason was occupied with moving. My contribution, posted a few days ago, was entitled “Who are the Elders?” I received a number of kind comments to this post. Among them, a friend of mine drew my attention to a post on her own blog from a few months ago which seemed very relevant. Here’s a quote from it:

For many of us, there are no Elders where we live. The only Elders are the ones in the books we order online and pay high shipping costs to get, or on web pages we must look at using slow speed dail-up. And this makes these elders and teachers barely tangible.

Read the whole post here.

When I got started in my teens, the only “elder” I knew was a huckster and a fraud. When I left his circle, I didn’t have anyone at all for a few years. I read books, mostly borrowed from friends, and I participated in discussions on the internet. The internet was still text-only then. (Wow, that puts a date on me!)

I joined my first pagan group around the age of 20 or 21, and some of its members were already in their 40s. The use of the word Elder was not yet in vogue at that time, but that’s effectively what they were, and how we treated them. Or, at any rate, that is how I looked up to them, and still do. (Curious to know if any of them are reading this blog!) I think it’s fair to say that I’ve had pagan elders around me one way or another ever since then. That is effectively all my adult life.

But as Juniper pointed out, this isn’t everyone’s experience. Well, friends, instead of listening to me pontificate, let me ask all of you: What, if anything, should those who have no Elders do? Who should they turn to? If anyone? Although I characterise the Elder as a person whose path is largely a path of service, can Elders be expected to drive hours and hours to remote places to meet with individuals or small groups? (To say nothing of the economics involved: the cost of fuel, etc.) Also, and I think importantly, might the recent interest in pagan elders be inadvertantly alienating those who don’t have access to Elders?

Honestly, I’m not even sure how to phrase the question, let alone suggest an answer. But I do think this is an important matter, and that where I am at a loss, others might be able to help.

Posted in Archive 2007-2009 | Tagged , | 13 Comments

Q of the Week: Cliches, Catch-Phrases and Slogans

A very merry and magical Midsummer to all of you!
Yesterday was drizzly and miserable here in Elora (so I feel less bad about missing WiccanFest) but today is gloriously shiny and clear and warm and wonderful. I really ought to be outside, beating the bounds in my forest instead of sitting inside, blogging. But here’s a Q of the Week, for your consideration, after you return from beating the bounds in your own landscapes, of course.

Well June was Pagan Values Blogging Month, and as mentioned before I found myself a little disappointed by a lot of what I read. In her own contribution to the Pagan Values Blogging Month, Canadian Hedge Witch summed up exactly what I found so unsatisfying about so much of it:

The first thing I noticed reading all these blog posts, is a plethora of catch phrases and key words. Pagan values as pop culture?

Read the whole blog post here.

It seemed to me too that a lot of people’s blog posts about values was little more than a repetition of various cliches.

Good readers, please don’t get me wrong: I know and understand the value and the power of proverbs. I published 120 pagan wisdom-teachings in my fourth book, the result of an international folklore survey I conducted, along with philosophical commentary for most of them. Someone who offers advice using a traditional proverb brings to bear the whole power of his or her culture. And sometimes a cliche has its origins in an important insight. But that isn’t true all the time. In fact it can often be counter-productive, or even patronising and demeaning, to offer a cliche to someone who has experienced a serious upheval in his or her life.

For example: an article in last week’s Glob and Mule discusses the problems that can arise when offering a pop-culture cliche to someone who has just lost his job. It reads, in part:

Clichés — as frowned upon as they are — have become such fixtures in our everyday chatter that we fire them off without thinking. And that’s a problem when it comes to serious matters such as unemployment, career experts say. Something else may indeed “come down the pipe,” as job hunters hear from well-meaning friends and family, but such stock reassurances are often unhelpful and misguided, and, frankly, seem like a snub.

Read the whole article here.

Might this be explained by a desire to avoid facing real problems? If someone has a serious dilemma, or a serious emotional and spiritual conflict, might the cliche reply be a way for people to protect themselves from addressing the seriousness of the problem? Might it even be the case that the use of superficial catch-phrases is a sign of a superficial spirituality? As I pose these questions, let it be understood that I’m not speaking of any particular path or tradition. In fact I started thinking about this question after reading a passage from D. J. Hall, “Confessing the Faith: Christian Theology in a North American Context“, which I read on much-ado‘s LJ. Here’s a quote:

We are trying to answer all of our problems without exposing ourselves to them as real problems. There is not one crisis on our horizon — whether this means vast social problems such as poverty, unemployment, and racism or intensely personal problems such as the search for meaning, vocation, or personal integrity — that can be resolved unless we are prepared to go much further into the depths of the question than we are apparently able or willing to do… In other words, our optimism is defensive, and what it seeks to defend us from is truth.

A longer quote can be found here.

Well, friends, what do you think? Has religion and spirituality grown too superficial? Do we prefer to take an easy, sunny, uncontentious path, in order to avoid having to think seriously and deeply about things, and avoid facing serious and deep problems? I know there can be something profound in the thought that “we are children of the Goddess” (an idea which also appears in the Bible: see Romans 8:16 for instance) But I’m tired of hearing people tell me that when I describe certain problems in my life.

Or, are there any pop-culture cliches and catch-phrases which you think really are philosophically powerful, and are not given their proper due? Which ones? And can you explain what they really mean, without falling back on more cliches?

Posted in Archive 2007-2009 | Tagged , | 8 Comments