Growing up Canadian While Living Abroad by Geraldine Mac Donald-Moran

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Canadian Love- April 2005

(With special thanks to P and L)

Still mulling over the question- what is Canadian love? Agreeably, it is a colossal challenge; especially, when the mix of ideas concocted stems from a uniquely multi-cultural society, like that of Canada.

More so, stems the concern about our collective sense of unity and a grand scale social responsibility toward our communities, our provinces, our Nation as a whole (to begin with).

When we arose this am, posterior to a deliciously prolonged Easter vacation just as our neighbours and fellow colony members, it struck me as remarkable that in one large society the majority could be following similar steps to mine: beyond the yawn and stretch to start the day.

There is a collective knowledge and there are specific societal triggers that bind the major part of the population here. Schools open at certain times. Commercial centers open at others but many consummate one common ground through their daily acts and behaviours: Shifting but not really swaying from route in the workings of a social machine that hums and whizzes 'til nightfall and in some cases continues through dark.

What would you say, if these grand scale social acts were to include such mind boggling activities as blatant polluting or even simple littering, over 'spending' on fine and irreplaceable natural resources like petroleum, misuse and mismanagement of fresh water; feigned ignorance to the fact that we, as a race, are making our mark on the earth but one that is more detrimental than beneficial to any future on our beloved planet?

Who will turn this around? Who is responsible? Where are all the Dr. David Suzukis of the world today? Where are all of our Activists, besides out in their fields being active?

May I be bold enough to suggest that our activists are here, sitting in these very chairs at this very moment. Those who are mostly responsible, without excluding the conglomerate industrial corporations, the large-scale extractors or the investors; are we, the little people who can make an enormous difference, rather than behold indifference, on a daily basis.

Recently, visitors came and turned on the figurative light: reminding us that our Canadian public, grade school lessons pointed out such simple measures as hanging your clothes to dry, cutting back on the consumption of processed or packaged goods, reducing water usage at home with low flush toilets and filling the bathtub a little less, composting; leading less decadent lifestyles and being aware but in an active sense.

Awareness goes nowhere unless evaluated and activated.

What will make us realize that we can do something to help sustain (improve?) a world that belongs to an increasing, six billion plus, responsible and communal whole, global community? Still, forgiving those who are struggling with basic survival, the under-developed nations could teach us a thing or two about modest, less consumer driven, less decadent lifestyles and more about appreciating the earth for all its precious bounties.

If I sound like I am harassing, please forgive, for I am purely nagging myself for the benefit of others.

Who cares if my grass is dry, when there are millions of people around me who don't have water at all? Why on earth do I insist in washing our clothes daily? The lamp in the window looks pretty but what is it illuminating other than my own selfishness? How many boxes of cereal do we have under the cupboard?

Folks, I have the impression that if we start today, each and every one of us, the world may reward us with a future for our children. I fear that if we do not, our children will not be prized with the ability to be proud, active not passive, Canadians tomorrow.

Now, I'll get up and hang some lines to dry the clothes in the world's best outdoor dryer. I'll give myself and airplane bath (under the wingtips and behind the tail) and I'll begin a journey that cherishes what we have around us more, and uses much, much less in the hopes that a future will be there waiting.

© Geraldine Mac Donald-Moran


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