Notre Dame, Paris!
I got an unexpected sidetrip into the city for a few hours. Not a bad way to spend a bit of extra time in France.
(uploaded from the phone… free McDonalds wifi… probably the first time in 5years I have voluntarily gone to McDonalds)
I’m sitting in the International Departures area of YVR. Would you believe that there are no televisions showing the World Cup here? What is up with that?! On the plus side, YVR has free wireless Internet so I am “doing homework”. Which means I am sitting here, looking at the giant aquarium of fishes and sea anemones, with my computer open, alternating between educational tasks and pure time wasters. All going well, I should be done next weeks discussion work before I land in Paris in 12 hours time. Before then, I’ll have touched down in Calgary (apparently Air Transat flies “direct” to Paris from Vancouver… via Calgary. I guess WestJet is not the only airline that offers direct flights that stop in Calgary. On the plus side, I’ll probably unlock a new travel badge on the recently joined foursquare (if you’re on foursquare, add me, I have no friends!). So, till France, A bientot.
I’m going to be fairly out and about all over the place for the month of June. So you can keep track of me (and I can keep track of myself):
Sunday, June 6 – Nanaimo for a meeting of the Myanmar delegation. You can become a fan of our Facebook page here.
Wednesday, June 9 – Saturday, June 12 – Portland, OR for Episcopal Village West Mission Event.
Thursday, June 17 – Friday, June 25 – France! Yes, that is correct, I am going to France. Friends own a sailing barge which they are looking to sell (anyone want a boat in the South of France?!?) and I’m going to hang out for a week. I bought a relatively inexpensive ticket on Tuesday and I leave in less than 2 weeks. Crazy, eh?!
Friday, July 2 – Sunday, July 4 – Prince George for my high school reunion and visiting friends I haven’t seen in ages. I’ll be at my old church on Sunday and hope to catch up with some of you then!
The last two weeks have gone by so fast that I’m not really sure what happened. Last Tuesday I could have sworn that I had only gotten home from Montreal the night before; apparently it had been the previous week. I’m still trying to figure out where the last five days have gone.
No Friday Photo today, that I can think of. I’ve been too busy to take many pictures this week and most of the ones I did take were crap…
But, I’m headed to Bamfield this weekend so that will be great and wonderful and fantastic. Hopefully also productive as I still have school work to finish for the week…
I may have mentioned before that I am going to Myanmar in November. If you missed that memo, here it is: I’m going to Myanmar in November. (For those still unsure, here is where Myanmar is. You may also know it as Burma.) I’ll be going with a group from the Anglican Diocese of BC as a part of our Partners in Mission Companion Diocese program. From the Island, a group of young people are going, and we’ll be taking part in the anniversary celebrations of their Anglican Young People’s Association.
One of the guys on our team has set up this skookum website; which is currently in the process of having info added to it. But when its all ready to go, it will be a fount of info and goodness! I might even post over there now and again. So check it out!
If you’re on the Island, we’ll be having a number of fund-raising activities in the months to come, and we’d love your support. If you’re not on the Island, we’d still love your support so drop me a line and I’ll let you know how you can get involved!
I’ve long been sceptical of the big drug corporations and their hold on our understanding of mental illnesses. While I don’t deny the usefulness of medications in treatment, I don’t think that they are necessarily the best choice or the only choice. Additionally, there is come compelling evidence that major pharmaceutical companies are going into other countries and exporting the Western/North American conception of mental illness, essentially redrawing the line between normal and abnormal in these cultures so that they can enlarge their market.
I recently heard a discussion on CBC “Q” where journalist Ethan Watters was talking about his new book, “Crazy Like Us: The Globalization of the American Psyche.” I haven’t read the book yet, though I have it on hold at the public library. From the interview, he talks about this very thing. [For the interview with Jian on Q, you can find it here (first 20 minutes of the program “Q the Podcast 2010-04-05 Regina Spektor”). For a video of an interview at Berkley, go here (the first half is interview, the second half is Q&A).]
Last month in my course, we were asked the question “Why is medication considered the mainstay in the treatment of psychotic disorders?” I had difficulty with this question, not because I have little to say on that topic (the opposite would appear to be the case) but because of the assumption it seems to make in that medications should be the mainstay treatment.
My immediate and cynical response to that question was “Because they are a relatively easy treatment that rapidly deals with psychosis and ‘fixes’ the thing that makes an individual stand out from the masses. We don’t like strangeness and difference.” Our society seems to have a preoccupation with medication and using it to control everything, including psychosis. The big pharmaceuticals are okay with that because that is how they make money. Because we are unable to cure something like schizophrenia, we concentrate on keeping it under control so that the individual can have a “normal” life. But what is a “normal” life? I’ve read some research by social psychologists working cross-culturally stating that recovery rates for schizophrenia prior to the advent of antipsychotics were closer to 60%, and that they are still around that rate in developing countries without access to antipsychotics. In North America, recovery rates for schizophrenia are basically 0%. A WHO report studying schizophrenia internationally, suggests that individuals with schizophrenia have a much better outcome in developing countries where access to antipsychotic medications are less readily available. Additionally, there is some research suggesting that medications actually do some damage to the brain, making recovery impossibly.
So after doing a lot of research, I am still wrestling with the problem of “why medication?” and how it became such a mainstay of treatment. Is it merely a money grab by the big corporations? I dunno.
After visiting a number of developing countries and spending time with regular people, I’ve seen the differences in the way people interact with each other (or don’t) and help each other. I am led to wonder, then, if medications are perhaps a “band aid” solution (because I do not deny that medications work for treating symptoms) for a deeper, societal problem.
All of this to say that I am growing disillusioned with the accepted ways of dealing with mental illness in North America and horrified that we would export our ineffective methods to other countries merely because we are the experts and we want their money. The pride and arrogance of that is astounding. My challenge now, as someone pursuing counselling and interested in cross-cultural experiences is finding a way to lose that hubris associated with my profession and approach people in a meaningful way without transferring my preconceived notions to them.
What a beautiful, sunny afternoon I had today. I walked home through the winding roads of Fairfield, soaking in the sun, the sounds of birds chirping, and the new pink and green growth emerging from brown earth and branches.
I like the change in seasons; spring always prompts me to take stock of my life and direction. Right now, I have a fairly good idea of the next year-ish, though there are some details to still be worked out. Things will always surprise me: I did not expect to go to Kenya last year, but I did and am so thankful I had that opportunity. Still, that does not stop the “J” in me from wanting to have at least a rough idea of the next 1,2,5 years… The last three or four years, around this time, have been a time of real self-reflection and exploration for me. This year is no different, however unlike the last few, I have the “itch” back: the itch to get up and go off adventuring somewhere. A year and a half from now, I will be completed my degree and practicum and will be able to register with a governing body and practice. Then what?
I recently stumbled upon something – a letter about a part of the Creed – I wrote in January 2007. I liked it and thought to share it:
I believe in the Holy Spirit,
The holy, catholic church,
The communion of saints,
The forgiveness of sins,
The resurrection of the body,
And the life everlasting. Amen
I believe in the Holy Spirit…
Why does Jesus get so many lines in the creed and the Holy Spirit just one?
The Holy Spirit always seems to get the short end of the stick in discussions involving the Trinity. The academic part of me knows this may be because Jesus was the “hot topic” of the day when the creed was written; with all the heresies abounding to claim him as one thing or another there was a need for a unifying statement of faith. But the other part of me thinks that surely the Holy Spirit deserves more than just an “I believe in the Holy Spirit”. Is not the Holy Spirit one of the more real aspects of the Trinity for us today? We can’t see God the Father or Jesus directly (although I suppose we don’t actually see the Holy Spirit either), but in terms of the Holy Spirit, we often speak of experiencing him in a real way in our daily lives. Jesus told his disciples when he left that he would send his Holy Spirit to them, and, by extension, to us. So if the Holy Spirit is with us on a daily basis, it should merit much more in the way of discussion than just a single line!
Frequently the Holy Spirit misses out in discussions and the like because we don’t really understand him. However, do we understand God either? Or Jesus? I suppose if faith depended on understanding, I would be out of luck. I do know, however, that we would be lost but for the presence of the Holy Spirit.
The holy, catholic church
One of the things I have loved when travelling is visiting other churches. I love the catholic-ness, the worldwide-ness of the church and family of God; I love how the same God may be encountered worldwide by people of different nationalities and traditions. It was this catholic-ness of the church that really opened my Chinese language partner’s eyes this summer when she realised that Christianity was not exclusively a Western religion, but was and is worldwide. It is this catholic-ness that I experienced this year when I was communing in a multinational missionary church service in Xining, China; a Danish service in Copenhagen; a German service in Wolfsburg; a Dutch service in Amsterdam; an English-German service in Freiburg; an English service in London; a French service in Montreal; and the fellowship of my own part of the body in Victoria. Wow! We were all reading from the same Bible and speaking of the same God – sometimes even singing the same songs tho in different languages. This is truly The Communion of saints in a world-wide manner. The ideal, which, sadly, is often not realised, is a worldwide church; not divided or segregated from itself but set apart for God as holy.
The forgiveness of sins
Where would I be if this was not so?!? I do not want to contemplate.
The resurrection of the body, And the life everlasting.
I look forward to it.
I have been rereading one of my favourite trilogies this week and it has been like sitting down with an old friend. It is one that belonged to my mum and that is probably part of the value of it to me – her notes are on many of the pages and reading it is a glimpse into her thoughts which I don’t otherwise get anymore. In it, the author talks of our oneness, not as a group of people, but as a self. The oneness of ourself and our being. What she speaks of is what I look forward to at the resurrection of the
body.
The burning bush: somehow I visualize it as much like one of these blueberry bushes. The bush burned, was alive with flame and was not consumed. Why? Isn’t it because, as a bush, it was perfect? It was exactly as a bush is meant to be. A bush doesn’t have the opportunity for prideful and selfish choices, for self-destruction, that we human beings do. It is. It is a pure example of ontolgy. Ecology — ontology — the words fascinate me. Ontology is one of my son-in-law’s favourite words, and I’m apt to get drunk on words, to go on jags; ontology is my jag for this summer, and I’m grateful to Alan for it — as for so much else. Ontology: the word about the essence of things; the word about being.
I go into the brook because I get out of being, out of the essential. So I’m not like the bush, then. I put all my prickliness, selfishness, in-turnness, onto my isness; we all tend to, and when we burn, this part of us is consumed. When I go past the tallest blueberry bush, where my twine is tied to one of the branches, I think that the part of us that has to be burned away is something like the deadwood on the bush; it has to go, to be burned in the terrible fire of reality, until there is nothing left but our ontological selves; what we are meant to be. (A Circle of Quiet by Madeleine L’Engle)
Nothing left but our ontological selves. What we are meant to be.
Amen. So be it.
Grace and peace,
Gillian
gillian's island 