What’s the Point?

Dearest Readers,

The tough times continue. We are still grappling with the pandemic. Climate change seems to be worsening. In Canada we are coming to grips with a genocide. Racism and general xenophobia are frighteningly widespread.

Despite a whole lot of good work being done to transform our world, the current situation can feel overwhelming. When the overwhelm hits hard and things feel utterly hopeless, apathy arises. ‘What’s the point?’ is a question I ask, and get asked, often.

Not everyone feels this kind of despair but I’m pretty sure all of us are looking for meaning. What, exactly, is the point of all of this?

Lately, when this deep question of ‘purpose’ comes up, I have been thinking of Oliver Šteins.

I interviewed Oliver for Communion in 2016 after he told me he was ‘a militant atheist and a very spiritual person’. He was adamant that human life did not have any great purpose but he was nevertheless excited by the profound mystery of the human journey:

“Live for the moment,” he says in the interview, “It’s much more exciting. What’s happening now. Concentrate on what’s happening now and enjoy it because tomorrow it could be all over, right?”

Oliver was diagnosed with ALS a couple of years after our conversation and he died in March of this year. The thoughts he shared during the interview now seem incredibly prescient. He talked about his death and how he wanted to ‘go’ and, despite his anti-religious feeling, he felt deeply connected to an Eternal Energy:

“Where did it all come from?” he asks. “How did this all come about?” Then he answers his own question: “I don’t know. But I’ll keep asking and that’s what keeps me motivated, that’s what keeps me interested in life.”

Oliver found his purpose by asking the Big Questions. He didn’t need certainty to feel that Life had meaning. It was the uncertainty that inspired him. (I am a recovering controller and I find this incredibly brave.)

There is a poignant moment in the interview when Oliver is talking about the awesome Ogilvie Mountains on the Yukon’s Dempster Highway:

“Seeing just how elated I was, how all-inspiring, the hope… that I was this little speck on this planet and amongst all this… there’s nobody around… the sun’s beaming and there’s a cloud moving in and the wind, and… I just felt very moved, very spiritual at that point. I had that connection.”

That connection. When I find myself in what’s-the-point territory I know it’s time to make That Connection. I need to look at the Big Picture and orient myself within it. I don’t necessarily need to know that Life has a Purpose but I need to find purpose for my own life.

Oliver then goes on to say, “I’m insignificant, I really am. I’m not depressed about it. I’m very elated.”

For Oliver, being an insignificant ‘little speck’ in the Universe gave him a feeling of elation. That Connection. Watching shows about the Cosmos and reading books about astrophysics and cosmology are elating for me, too. We are not separate from That Vastness. The reason we feel that connection is because we are Inextricably Connected to Everything.

Oliver resisted the idea that God was a being but he embraced Being with passion and determination. Without knowing he would be dead in five years, he says, “When the time comes of my passing… I wanna go [back to those mountains]. That would be my final stop. Get in a lawn chair and just look over that. I would like to exit that way.”

Oliver died in Cobourg, Ontario. He didn’t get to set up that lawn chair on the Dempster Highway. But, amazingly, wondrously, purposefully, and very much with-a-point, his life is continuing to speak:

“Concentrate on what’s happening now and enjoy it because tomorrow it could be all over, right?”

From the fires of love,

Celia

(Watch the 10-minute Communion episode with Oliver on YouTube.)

Communing with the Stars

Dearest Readers,

Yesterday I had the opportunity to interview Justin Trudeau for a new talk show I’ve created with the help of our local TV station Community Cable Nine. It seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and even though I had to cancel one appointment and be late for another I took it.

The appointment I was late for was a session with my Life/Business Coach. She said, “I think that’s probably the best excuse for being late I’ll ever hear.” She also asked me if I wanted to debrief with her on the interview experience. I said, “Well, instead of looking at everything I didn’t do I’m going to just say to myself, “Good for you, Celia. You did a good job.” She validated that for me, as good coaches do, and we moved on.

As the day progressed into the evening, however, those Voices of Dissent began talking to me in their insistent and pervasive way. They’re still at it, as a matter of fact, and it’s the next day. I figure I’d better give them a forum to express their regret since shutting them down flat doesn’t seem to be working.

So here, Dearest Readers, is what I didn’t do in my interview with Mr. Justin Trudeau, MP:

  • I didn’t say, “Nice haircut.”
  • When he talked about individuals needing to make a mental change with regard to our expectations of what politicians can do for us I didn’t look at the camera and say, “A mental change, People. It’s up to us to make a mental change.”
  • I didn’t tell him who my brother-in-law is. They went to summer camp together and were chums.
  • I didn’t tell him I went to a movie with his Dad. Yup, one day Pierre Trudeau and I went to see the same film at the Egyptian Cinema in Montreal. We were both alone and we sat at either end of the same row. He died shortly thereafter.
  • I didn’t take a picture of the two of us. I didn’t give him my business card.
  • There were times when he was speaking that I didn’t listen closely because I was formulating my next thought/question.

That’s quite a lot of regret isn’t it? How challenging it is to ignore these things and look only at what I did right. The mind, the ego, the pride, the desire to be perfect… all these parts of me jump in there and shout for their rights and sadly the message is this: You are not good enough.

This is a message, I am well aware, that so many of us battle. I could write pages on where it comes from in my own life but I’m far more interested in how to overcome this self-defeating Belief System. This BS!

The kind of self-validation I did with my Coach is a very good place to start. We can tell ourselves we did well no matter what happened. “I did my best. My best is good enough.” Say it a thousand times if we need to. I am good enough.

Another piece that helps me is to let go of the ridiculously high expectations I have. “This was only my second interview for this new show. I’m just at the beginning.” This way I can learn from the experience. I can see opportunities for improvement and take those on for next time.

Most importantly I can practice the Art of Letting Go. It’s done. It’s over. It’s the past. There ain’t nothin’ I can do to change it. Going back over it in my mind will not do any good. Bless it. Release it. Move on.

This new TV show is called “Communion”. I called it that because the word can mean “the sharing or exchanging of intimate thoughts and feelings, especially when the exchange is on a mental or spiritual level.” Justin Trudeau talked about seeing the work he does as Service and he talked about trying to make the world a better place. He spoke about how he tries to use criticism as an opportunity for self-improvement. When I asked him if he’d rather be buried or cremated (yes, I did that) he took what felt like the longest pause in the history of interviews, his eyes looking skyward in deep and silent contemplation, and then finally responded with thoughtful meaning. (He wants an ecological interment — the worms can have him.)

All of this means that I succeeded in communing with this man. I achieved the goal! The rest is history.

And yes, his eyes really are that blue. Not that I noticed.

Inspiring Message of the Day: Sometimes the process of letting go requires a few steps. If something is hanging on I will take the time to give voice to my regret. Once I’ve done that I trust that my freedom will follow more swiftly.