One Looney Idea: Day Ninety

New to - ONE LOONEY IDEA - read below, otherwise skip down to the picture. :)

In 2006, we began a relationship with Ethiopia that we cannot turn our backs on.

We don’t really want to turn away, but life became undeniably more DIFFICULT after our first, and consecutive trips. Members of our family were in Ethiopia in ‘06, ’07, ’08, ’09, and ’13. In Ethiopia, the majority of people build a life with less than a dollar a day. A dollar a day does not provide basic necessities. Roughly 39% of Ethiopians live below poverty (<$1.25 USD)—that is over 28 million people. The population of Canada is just over 35 million.

The world is not equitable.

***

We all have challenges. At this point in my life I am living with abundance. It doesn’t feel good to continue to accrue treasures when so many live with scarcity. I want to choose something different.

From January 15^th, 2015 – January 14^th, 2016, I am going to spend ONLY a dollar a day (average) for discretionary items.

I will put one loonie into my purse each day. Every time that I want to make a purchase, I will stop and think. I am becoming a thoughtful and responsible consumer, one day at a time—for a lifetime.

You can support me by pledging a dollar a day for any part of my 365 day challenge. The money will go to Canadian Humanitarian, who we have worked with extensively over the past nine years. —Just check out my Pledge Page on the left side bar.

Betam amisegnalo.

***

Grade Five - nine years old.

School Patrol - 1975, nine years old.

Soap and Water

Gindo, a rural area of Ethiopia, is severely affected by lack of water, food, and education, and has a high incidence of disease. Desperation floated upon the air, invisible but detectable, like humidity. We visited Gindo on the Canadian Humanitarian expedition in October 2013. A long-time CH supporter and expedition volunteer named Vern stared out of the window as we approached the brand new education centre; his eyes leaked, and his face quivered.

In May of 2012, Vern, along with five other middle-aged, energetic, compassionate individuals began a “Chain Reaction” bike ride across Canada. Along their way, they raised awareness for CH, and collected funds to build the education centre in Gindo. The inspiration for the "Chain Reaction" ride began with Vern.

The fifty children from the CH program, waited for us. We arrived sporting Ray Ban's, Maui Jim's, Nike, Merrel, and Columbia. They stood in plastic shoes, white shirts dusted with red earth and missing buttons, tangled hair, and an odour that could curl the hairs of one's nostrils. The air pulsed with excitement as they prepared for the official opening ceremony. Indeed, yesterday there was a noisy, rust-colored ox tied to the fence; today, not even the rope remained. Instead, there were mounds of cut up meat as the women worked to prepare a meal, in our honour.

After the ceremony, before eating, we washed at a long trough outside, with clear but contaminated water and soap.

A loonie a day.

There are obstacles to change. What is getting in my way?

Your beliefs become your thoughts,

Your thoughts become your words,

Your words become your actions,

Your actions become your habits,

Your habits become your values,

Your values become your destiny.”

—Mahatma Gandhi

The starting point is the thought. My thoughts—I can’t do it…I don’t want to do it…I don’t have to do it…it’s stupid—cause me to stay in the ruts on the road. It’s hard to make positive change when stuck.
Over the last decade, I cultivated the habit of buying in excess of what we need. I never thought I’d be an accumulator. I have modest roots. I like order and organization. Clutter immobilizes me. I cannot cook supper until the kitchen is cleaned. I prefer simplicity. And yet, embracing indulgence became so common that I saw it as ordinary, and necessary. And if not necessary—deserved. Somehow the wrongs in my life could be righted through the purchase of latté’s, clothes, home decor, books, journals, writing pens, bedding-out plants, lunches, and 9-ounce glasses of Pinot Grigio.
I didn’t see it . . . until now. Instead, I felt the discontent of not aligning myself with my inner compass. I veered off course, but stayed there long enough that it became a worn trail.

I follow three generations of women who live and lived without grandeur.
My great grandmother, already in her seventies when I was born, focused on family and community. Everyone knew “Grama Great” for her generosity of spirit, contagious chuckle, modest and welcoming home, fresh baked cookies, and the perfect blossoming cherry tree. I loved the fact that the moment we arrived, we became a part of the neighbourhood, and had rousing games of “kick the can”. I loved eating home baked goods for breakfast in the tiny kitchen nook that overlooked Grama Great’s rose garden.
Her daughter, my Grama, lived in Saskatchewan and farmed full time with my Grampa. We spent long summer days on their farm at Last Mountain Lake, surrounded by cousins, and acres of unmarked land. If farm life looked simple and routine to my childhood eyes, my grandmother was anything but. An intellect, she could converse on any topic; a musician, she graced the piano with strong fingers and steady tones; and a caretaker, she built a large family, and looked after them with seeming ease. She had a regal quality to her that could not be diminished regardless of dress, or circumstances.
My mother, just seventy, has the same shining white hair as me, with an exquisite and inviting smile. Loving and kind, she possesses an edge of no-nonsense, and therefore commands attention. She continues to be able to get my children to work alongside of her better than anyone else. Like the two generations of women before her, she is a gifted musician. Her voice lifts high, rings clear, and brings joy to so many. Our car trips to the coast to see Grama Great, or to Saskatchewan to visit my grandparents farm were filled with many rounds of song. My mom, a tireless support to my siblings and I, never gives up, even when the challenges make it difficult to get out of bed. Her commitment to family—her legacy—inspires me to show up in my life, and be my best self, and to forgive the shitty moments.

All of these women had age spots; it is one thing that I share with them. The culture today encourages blemish-free, flawless living. I have been “counselled” time and time again by well-meaning friends and acquaintances to try various procedures to get rid of the spots—especially as they have become prominent on my face. I have used lotions claiming to lighten them, but the result has been a plethora of expensive products, and little difference to my skin. My grandmothers had access to one cleansing product . . . soap and water. The blotches of unmatched skin connect me to a depth and strength of spirit possessed by three remarkable women. And I am going to accept my flaws, and commit to living with what I need, not what society demands.

I can do it,
. . . with soap and water.