Lost and Found's Tips and Tricks for Re-Integration

Last week, I posted an article on the pangs of a little thing called reverse culture shock. It was a powerfully relevant topic for me (and still is) as I attempt to find my place in the big city of Toronto (my hometown) after spending four months in east Jesus nowhere. Of course, it isn’t my first time transporting myself back and forth across the country like some transient vagabond, and although reverse culture shock is a thing that happens no matter how many times you do this, I’ve built a nice toolbox of what are referred to as coping mechanisms to make it plenty easier.

This is me on a bus ride through hell.

This week, I’d like to share what I’ve learned from said experiences and talk about what exactly I do when faced with such daunting transitions. Consider this the solutions part of the subject, and hopefully I can generalize it enough to keep it accessible to the masses. Here are my six best Tips and Tricks for Re-integration:

1) Be prepared

It’s the goddamn Scout’s motto, for Christ’s sake. Any adult who was forced to wear a handkerchief tied to the collar of a starched grey uniform complete with the world’s most fashion-forward sash can recite these two imminently powerful words without giving a moment’s thought, because if there’s one awesome thing we learned from Scouts (and there were many), it’d be that if you can’t prepare yourself for the challenges of tomorrow, you’ll end up losing harder than those three South-Asian badminton teams who each wanted to suck on purpose so badly they ended up being kicked out of the Olympics. Also, that sentence was so incredibly run-on I am doing nothing to fix it. 

Scouts: The new Vogue?

The same theory used by Scouts applies here; start by realistically envisioning what coming home will be like. What challenges will you face? Who can you rely on for support? What resources will you have directly at hand?  Start doing this well before departure. The earlier, the better; you’ll find that mentally preparing yourself for coming home will lead to even more constructive solutions (see below).

2) Find the Familiar

It’s easy to get lost in places that are confusing and different. This may be the case after returning to your home-city/town/place after travelling for a bit. What may be the difference between ‘keeping it together’ and ‘total insanity’ is your ability to latch onto things that remind you of your incredible experience while you were away. Finding these connections may be difficult, but they will provide you with happy thoughts if you do it correctly. Some suggestions: get involved in a community-based organization that is affiliated with where you went or host your own seminar/presentation on the most important aspects of your experience. If people around you can better understand what you are missing, they can in turn better support you while you try to get back into the swing of things at home.

3) Surround Yourself with Good People

Pictured: Someone NOT to be friends with

Further to what I just stated above, none of this will work unless you are friends with the right people. Douchebags aren’t included in this list. This might mean that some people who were your friends before you left have to be ‘cut from the team’, but in the long term you are actually just making it easier on yourself by staying connected to those who really know you, or who are at least interested in getting to know the you that has just spent hella-long times in a very faraway place.

Your support system is only as strong as you make it, and it’s time to enact some important executive decisions. Hold your ground, Little Foot, and you’ll grow into a strong dinosaur. 

Kids who were born after '98 totally won't get that reference.

4) Use Your Humor

They say ‘a smile means the same in every language’, except Braille. Maybe I made that last part up, but if fully blind people can’t read this anyway, does that make it offensive?

If a tree falls in the woods.......?

Also, don't be friends with those that do the 'duck face'.

My humor could be described as often borderline distasteful, but without it I’d be in trouble. Humor is an amazing tool when it comes to staying mentally stable, especially in times of intense change. Learn how to make yourself laugh and you’ll know a great way to instantly flip your mood; find a way to laugh at yourself and it works even better. Self-deprecation helps you to understand that the things you may be getting upset over are actually quite arbitrary. From this you will realize that much of what is bothering you as you attempt to re-integrate is actually not worth ruminating over in the first place. See how it works? The collateral effects of using your humor (especially on yourself) are wonderful, so turn that frown upside down, or at least semi-circle duck-faced sausage-like, then go look in the mirror and complete the process.

5) Keep Busy!

In the wise words of my Grandma: “busy hands are happy hands”. It’s as if she’s Yoda.....As in ‘YO DA BEST, GRANDMA!’

Part of your ‘being prepared’ phase should include organizing activities for yourself to partake in when you get back. This will allow you to stay occupied and (hopefully) become actively connected to your community. Much of what causes reverse culture shock manifests itself when you are idle for a long period of time. Keeping a regular schedule and consistency in your plans can and will mitigate the more serious side effects.

6) Tell Your Story

Ahhhhh sheeeit, it's story time bitches!

Remember story time, that magical hour in grade school when your teacher would wisp you away to mystical lands and epic journeys complete with plot lines probably written by authors who were on a serious lifelong acid trip? Sure you do, because it was the most awesome part of school. We happen to be highly-evolved creatures with an immense capacity for imagination and narrative creativity. But telling a story is an art, which means you can suck at it pretty badly at it if you don’t know how to incorporate a bit of creativity.

Chances are that reciting your travel log verbatim to your friends and family won’t quite capture an audience of interested followers (trust me on this), and you’re going to have to find a way to tell your story without making the recipients want to dunk their heads into a bath of poison. The best part is that once you find that perfect balance of storytelling meets entertainment, you’ve got a reasonable outlet to share those experiences to people who actually want to hear them. Congratulations! You’ve achieved rockstar re-integrated status!

Reverse Culture Shock in Four Not-So-Easy Steps

You’ve probably heard of ‘culture shock’; the phenomena that happens when you are inundated with new things, usually accompanied by travelling to a new place, resulting in a complete shutdown of your senses. Change is good, but when your body is being relentlessly bombarded by smells, sights, sounds and physical feelings that are completely foreign to it, your brain will consequently be all like ‘fuck this shit, I’m out’. 

Kind of like this.

Anyone who has up and left home to experience a new place – perhaps a different country or town – will tell you that these big transitions take time, and exactly how hard it can be is directly related to the strength of your ability to adapt. Now think about doing the opposite: you’ve spent a considerable amount of time being submersed in a culture that is no longer new to you. After completely adopting the customs of this place you are eventually accepted into the community and have reached the point where what was once scary and new is now completely normal to you. Congratulations – you have officially integrated yourself, after all of that hard work and in a place that once terrified you to your core.

Now for something equally as shitty and twice as unexpected: going back home. Of course, you know this place like the back of your hand. Maybe you’ve grown up here; spent most of your life being a part of this place....It will be a breeze to get back into life back home, right?

Wrong.

Reverse culture shock begins here. Suddenly, things that were familiar to you after you left just aren’t the same. The people you were closest to now seem like strangers and everything you’ve learned while travelling doesn’t apply here. You’re stuck, and the fact that you actually have no idea what is going on again hits you smack in the face. Alas, the four not so easy stages of reverse culture shock have begun:

Honeymooning

Your plane lands in your home city as you excitedly step off the platform after a long absence into a world once recognizable. Although you don’t feel panicked or isolated yet, you wear an invisible veil of happy-go-lucky peachy keen-ness. You are ready to accept your pedestal of awesomeness as you have become a world traveller and everyone will think that makes you instantly cool.

This is arguably the most annoying time for your friends. You will take any opportunity to tell a story about how the donkeys woke you up every morning, or how you visited a Buddhist Monk who helped you find inner peace, or whatever vacantly dull anecdote you absently think is relevant to the situation. Life is awesome for someone who has seen the world.

Storming

Just kidding, life sucks. Your honeymooning phase is over before it began, and you are quickly coming to the realization that what you considered to be your home has now turned into one of those borderline creepy clown houses at the fair where everyone is wearing badly-drawn face paint and the smell of Listerine and shame lingers in the air. You now understand that nobody wants to hear your travel stories, and instead of waiting around for your glorious return, everyone and everything has continued on without you. 

WELCOME HOME.

What’s worse is that while you were away, you became so wrapped up in the culture of your host community that you completely forgot how to live back home. You desperately try to find a way to apply what you’ve learned over the past months, but the attempts prove futile and you long for the familiarity of that other seemingly faraway place. Many people in this stage tend to cocoon themselves in a fortress of anger or resentment; others struggle with issues of anxiety or depression. Storming is the hardest stage in reverse culture shock.

Norming

Although it may have been hard to grasp during the process, the storming phase does not last forever, although its longevity is different for everyone and relates to how well you can use (or not use) your resources. You begin norming when the intense feelings associated with storming begin to fade and you find ways to cope with the transition of being home. 

Above: reasons NOT to come home

 A big part of norming is discovering a space where you feel comfortable and accepted. Just like you needed to be part of a community while away, you now need to relocate yourself into somewhere that makes sense and offers you the right kind of support. Oftentimes, our social circles will completely change over the course of leaving home for a prolonged period of time and returning again, and this is probably because you have also changed significantly. What’s cool about this stage is that you can actually begin to somewhat measure the impact of travelling, often with very positive results.

Performing

Performing is the ultimate result of reverse culture shock, and thank god it’s awesome because the rest of it sucked ass. You may not reach this part until over a year after your return, so don’t expect to blow through the first three immediately upon arrivial. The good news: no matter what happened, you are better and stronger for it. Experiencing reverse culture shock is an intense learning curve, and one that you won’t ever forget. It will help you the next time you travel and mitigate its effects.

....And some things will never change.

While the prevalence of reverse culture shock never quite fades (no matter how many times you travel), the more you experience it, the more you develop coping strategies that will ease you through it. When you perform, you can look back and find the positives of each challenge, for you are now comfortable and content because you have made the necessity changes that keep you stable. You have found a reasonable outlet to discuss your experiences, having a conversation about it rather than a lecture. Things sure look different from how it was before you left, but in a way that tells you you’re always changing.

Reverse culture shock effects everyone differently and has different timelines because of it. Some people may experience the same step twice, skip a step or relapse back into a bad habit. The trick is finding the right tools to help you though, something I’ll exemplify in my next post.

Thanks for reading and, as always,

Safe Travels,

Aaron Turpin

The Best Views are from the Ground

Rediscovering Land-Based Travel

All around the world a new movement....no, revolution in the way we get around has begun. It is a nostalgic change, one that would have us humans coming in full circle after the advent of technology killed the natural joy and spirit that was inherent with travelling. I’ve seen it in many forms with my very eyes – industrious individuals with the guts to simplify their methods; rebels of modern transportation, if you will.

The Greyhound stop in Contact Creek, B.C

Land-based travel is exactly what it says it is – any form of moving from point A to point B that keeps your body firmly planted on the ground (or just hovering over it). Bikes, buses, public transportation, trains, your own two feet – whatever you choose, the purpose of the land-based movement is to reconnect with the journey of getting somewhere – anywhere – and to travel for the purpose of learning and self-improvement. Choosing land-based travel can be as easy as following a subway route instead of using a personal vehicle and as challenging as choosing to take a Greyhound across the country rather than fly. It is almost always a longer and more difficult course, but the payoff can be enormous personally, economically and, obviously, environmentally.

My fondest memories of travelling include long bus rides (sometimes over two days long!) where I’ve taken the pleasure of watching a landscape slowly change outside my window. The characters of every small town along the way, the awesome people who live there, the wildlife you see and the companions you make while trapped on a moving vehicle for endless hours – those are the aspects of travelling that make it worthwhile to me. Apparently, I am not alone on this, either.....

Meet the community of folks who take the challenge (understatement of the century) of biking across Canada, from its most Western point at the Tatshenshini-Alsek Provincial Park to Cape Spear, 9306 Kilometers away and the furthest East one can travel while staying on land in Canada. Why? Some do it to raise money for charity while others are just crazy enough to call it recreational. I’ve met a few of these people on my travels, and to call them ambitious would be an absurd descriptive shortfall.

And then you have the real loonies (get the Canadian reference there??) who look at a bike and see a crutch. Meet Kyle Pickering and Bobby McDowell – two average young Canadian men who woke up one day and said ‘today, instead of walking to my mailbox and back, I’m just not going to stop until I reach the freaking other side of the country.’ Their trip took ten months combined and by the time they too had arrived in Cape Spear, 7953 Kilometers and 40 pairs of shoes behind them, they decided their trip was over and went back to being completely normal people working summer jobs as camp counsellors on the West Coast. No big deal.

Kyle and Bobby on the West Coast of Newfoundland

Kyle and Bobby aren’t alone in their yearning for pain and punishment. Walking such large distances such as these has actually become a worldwide phenomenon and is now referred to as ‘slow-travel’, because there are apparently lots of insane people out there, too. At the heart of the matter, however, is an urge to redefine travel by focusing on just that – travelling.

This post isn’t here to convince its readers to start biking thousands of kilometers across the second largest country in the world, but instead I hope we can use these examples as an inspiration to adopt a principle of deliberate heel-dragging the next time we plan a getaway. For a trip with real substance, you have to avoid destination-centered vacations and start focusing your energy on the actual journey. When did ‘stopping to smell the roses’ become a bad habit?

Ten All-Canadian Road Trips

Road trips. Is there anything better than the liberation that accompanies feeling the wind blow through your fingers, or the freedom in standing in a place you’ve never once stood? People go on road trips of all shapes and sizes for different reasons: a break from the mundane daily routine, a family-centered journey to some magical far-away place, to seek adventure and inspiration, for solitude, and the list continues. Canada is one of the most road trip-worthy countries in the world, offering diverse vistas and itineraries sure to please anyone, from the anxious nomad to the novice homebody. In lieu of my past experiences tripping across the country, I’ve compiled a master list of the best places to go when the call of the road beckons. Just close your eyes and point. 

1) Cabot Trail

The legendary Cape Breton Island rests on the Northeastern point of Nova Scotia and is the crown jewel of Maritime Canadian destinations. Although the island occupies a large portion of the province, it’s most sought after destination is the Cape Breton Highlands National Park, situated at the edge of the province and only accessible by the world famous Cabot Trail, a 298 Kilometre loop that enters the park and runs through many small coastal communities. This roads gives you the best of both worlds: high mountainous ranges with winding switchbacks and rugged coastal shorelines like candy for the eyes. 

Recommended Stops: Check out the town of Ingonish, located on the Southwestern side of Cape Breton Highlands National Park, or relax on Ingonish beach 11 minutes South on the Cabot Trail at the opening of South Ingonish Harbour. The Cape Breton Highlands National Park Visitor’s Centre is located in Cheticamp on the South end of the Cabot Trail.

2) Gaspe Peninsula

At the mouth of the mighty St. Lawrence River in Southeastern Quebec lies the Gaspe Peninsula and, seemingly, the edge of the world. Highway 132 circumnavigates the peninsula and is a traveler’s best bet for experiencing French-Canada’s rural countryside. Sea cliffs and river tributaries mark the landscape like gorgeous blemishes in stark contrast to the ocean below. The Gaspe Peninsula is certainly a road trip you’ll want to take slowly.

Recommended Stops: The towns of Gaspe and Perce are popular destinations for this trip, both adding their own uniqueness to the rural French-Canadian culture. Be sure to visit the peninsula’s national parks as well: Gaspesie National Park, located on highway 299 off Sainte Anne des Monts on the Northern interior and Forillion National Park, located on highway 132 due North of Gaspe on the very tip of the peninsula. Also see: Cap-Des Rosiers Lighthouse, Bioparc De La Gaspesie and Bonaventure Island, all in Gaspe town-area for more awesome activities.

3) Muskoka Woods

Muskoka, Ontario is prime lake country, and the side-trip options are endless. Highway 60 is the main artery that runs through the small townships and parks of the area, and it literally carves through the hills of limestone and shale that serve as a foundation for lush boreal forests. The main attraction in the area, though, is none other than Algonquin Provincial Park, a place that requires no introduction. So, whether you’re into fishing, camping, sandy beaches on pristine lakes, heart-pumping hikes or just an opportunity to relax and soak in the unbridled wilderness, Muskoka Woods has it all. 

Recommended Stops: Besides Algonquin Park...Lake Simcoe, Kawartha Highlands and the Muskoka Lakes/Georgian Bay area are all fantastic options for adventure.

4)  Icefields Parkway

Alberta is known for either its two largest metropolitan destinations (Edmonton and Calgary) or its two largest parks (Jasper and Banff). Given the option, I’ll always choose the latter, primarily because its connector route, the Icefields Parkway, is a stunning road trip, albeit a small one (it only takes about 4 to 5 hours to travel). This scenic road actually follows a continental divide, allowing for great viewing opportunities of massive glacial valleys, hence the “Icefields” Parkway. 

Recommended Stops: Jasper and Banff.....Duh. But also take some time to hike or drive out to these other great locations: Sunshine Meadows, Vermillion Lakes, the Norquay Lookout, Maligne Canyon, Athabaska Falls and Bald Hills. Lake Louise is also another option right on the South end of the Parkway if you like being pampered a little more.

5) Sea to Sky Corridor

The Sea to Sky Highway was conveniently named for doing exactly what it does: taking you from sea level at British Columbia’s Horseshoe Bay to the high elevations of the Southern Rocky Mountain Range, eventually terminating in Pemberton where highway 99 will take you further North if you so choose. This is quintessential Rocky Mountains driving, winding in and out of ominous canyons and over rushing whirlpools, enough to either make you very excited or very carsick (or both). All in all, the Sea to Sky highway occupies a mere 135 kilometers of tar, but it packs a copious amount of epicness. 

Recommended Stops: Squamish will be the first main destination along the highway, and avid hikers wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to summit the Squamish Chief. Whistler and Blackcomb Mounatins offer world-class skiing and snowboarding with resorts to satisfy the even the snobbiest of travellers. 

6) Sunshine Coast

Ah, yes, it’s mid-summertime and all you can think of is white sandy beaches, the sun on your face and the waves crashing against your feet. What better place in Canada is escape to in the summer than Southwestern BC’s Sunshine Coast? Beginning in Horseshoe Bay, the Sunshine Coast Highway stretches North along the interior coast and passes the picturesque coastal towns and beaches of Earls Bay, Powell River and Gibsons, eventually hitting the end of the road in the tiny fishing village and wharf of Lund. The entire trip is 184 kilometers long and consists of two ferry crossings, just in case you forgot that you’re driving alongside an inlet of the largest ocean on earth. Beach bums beware, once you experience the Sunshine Coast, you may never want to leave. 

Recommended Stops: Plenty of stop-worthy settlements and beaches dot the highway, including Bowen Island, Nelson Island an Sechelt. Once in Lund, you have the option of Kayaking or chartering a boat into the unforgettable Desolation Sound, where hundreds of small coves and tide pools beg for exploration.   

7) Stewart-Cassiar 

You’re headed North now, in search of a more isolated journey, maybe to reconnect with nature or meditate the landscape. In Norhwestern Canada, plenty of options are available, but a trip you won’t want to miss is the Stewart-Cassiar Highway, spanning 752 kilometers from Kitwanga, BC to Watson Lake, Yukon Territory. The highway traverses over the Cassiar Mountain Range at the very Northern tip of the Rocky Mountains, gaining a total elevation of 2677 feet. The highway is well maintained year round and offers activities for every season, but the biggest draw to driving this itinerary is the raw and untamed wilderness you’ll encounter. Prepare for plenty of roadside animal sightings including Moose, Bison, Black Bears, the occasional Grizzly, Caribou, Red Fox and more. For all of its connection to the outside world, The Stewart-Cassiar is a perfect trip for the nature lover.

Recommended Stops: I recommend starting/ending your trip in Prince Rupert, BC’s Northernmost coastal town and just a short drive West of Terrace for its options to fish, paddle, hike or drive inland and across the breathtaking Queen Charlotte Islands. 

8) Liard-Yellowhead

The Northwest Territories are indeed Canada’s great beyond; a vast expanse of untouched land where few call home and even fewer seek to explore. Fortunately, for those that do, there are a couple of options to visit this magnificent place by land. One of those routes is the incredible Liard-Yellowhead highway, beginning just North of Fort Nelson, BC and ending in Yellowknife, the cosmopolitan capital city of NWT. It’s the journey of getting there, though that will make it worthwhile. The Liard-Yellowhead first traverses the great Nahanni Range just inside the NWT border before dropping down to the hundreds of lakes and tributaries of North-central Canada where vegetation is sparse and the views are spectacular. 

Recommended Stops: The Nahanni River National Park lies just inside the NWT border and is a very worthwhile day trip on the side. A few Aboriginal settlements along the way provide services and an opportunity to learn about Canada’s First Northern Peoples. These stops include Fort Liard, Fort Simpson and Fort Providence, in order from South to North. 

9) The Dempster Highway

If you’re seeking a true adventure and earth-shattering isolation, the Dempster Highway is your road trip. Starting just South of Dawson City, Yukon, the Dempster Highway follows a North-easterly route past the Arctic Circle and eventually stops in Inuvik, Northwest Territories. It is the furthest North one can travel by car while still inside Canada, and you’ll certainly know it as the Boreal Forest gives way to the Arctic Tundra and rolling mountains strip themselves of greenery, leaving a barren landscape that is all but devoid of activity. A word to the wise: The Dempster is notoriously tough-going, so make sure you get a full tune up and bring a couple of spare tires. You wouldn’t want to be stuck out in the land of the midnight sun. 

Recommended Stops: Dawson City is a preserved gold-rush era town where you can still play craps in an old casino and watch cancan girls on stage. At the very beginning of the highway is Tombstone Territorial Park, one of Yukons most treasured protected areas. Other than this, the only real stops you’ll encounter on this 12 hour trip will be Eagle Plains and Fort McPherson, both offering very basic services and amenities. Don’t forget to note when you’ve crossed the Arctic Circle – this is where 24 hour daylight or darkness occur during the summer and winter seasons. I recommend travelling during fall (last two weeks of August for this area) when the tundra comes alive with wonderfully vivid autumn colours. 

10) Trans-Canada

None of these road trips long enough for you? Don’t fret, you can drive across the entire freakin’ country if you take the incredible Trans-Canada Highway! Canada has plenty of road trips for everyone, most of which branch out of a highway that hits both oceans and traverses through four different ecosystems. The Trans-Canada highway actually has two different branches, both of which offer endless options for adventure, relaxation and discovery. So go on now, get road trippin’!!

Michael's Story

 "I was born in Toronto June 21^st. 1935. Had an Irish mother and a British father. My education was mostly in Canadian Private schools as my father, after WW2, became a School Master. After I finished school in 1952 I went to Guernsey in the Channel Islands where my mother was living. I started work on a Dutch cargo boat taking tomatoes from Guernsey to Belfast in Northern Ireland. That was fun! I also rented out deck chairs at a beach. Finally, in 1955 after a quick trip back to Canada where I got a job with the Bell Telephone in Montreal, I returned to London and joined the Hong Kong Shanghai Bank – now HSBC – and was posted to Malasyia in ’57. While in London with the bank I also got interested in ballet along with my then girlfriend. Then, on the same day that the bank informed me of my posting to Singapore, that evening at ballet practice my teacher – Margaret Morris – asked me if I’d like to join a new ballet company – The Celtic Ballet - she was forming in Glasgow, Scotland! What a choice, and all on the same day! I chose the bank, as I knew my father would undo his nut if I chose the ballet, as he had been a strict military officer as well as a strict schoolmaster. I also wanted to live in other cultures and learn - but it was a hard decision. I worked in Singapore, Malaysia, Pakistan, the Caribbean and finally on Wall Street. Then I went to the Yukon in 1970.

It was my wonderful mother who opened my eyes to the spiritual path. That was on an island called Sark near Guernsey where she had taken me one beautiful day in 1952 to quietly introduce me to her spiritual insights. I embraced it immediately! Then when I went to London to the bank I connected with a spiritual group called the White Eagle Lodge. They were wonderful people and still exist. I also went overseas to Buddhist temples and learned from the monks, and also to Hindu temples for the same reason. Finally, I became a member of the Theosophical Society first founded by the Russian lady Helena Blavatsky in the 1880s. Wherever I went I always connected with spiritual groups with whom I felt comfortable. I learned much.

In the 1960s I had two special teachers who were a great influence on me. The first was the very well known Major Tudor Pole who worked with the King and Churchill during the war and who, at the time, was in Glastonbury, England, where my mother was. I was again on my 6 months home leave from the bank after another tour in Pakistan, and became intrigued in helping to restore the Chalice Well and Gardens there, which TP had started to do. He had a very powerful influence on me, although I didn’t entirely realise it at the time.

The other teacher was Namjyal Rinpoche whom I met when I returned to Toronto in 1967 having then changed banks and joined the Bank of Nova Scotia’s foreign staff in the Caribbean - Trinidad. When I went home on leave it was he who in 1970 influenced me to move to the Yukon and leave my banking profession. He had had a vision and knew that the northern lands of the earth would be the safest in these critical unfolding times as we pass between Ages.

 So, my first 10 years in the Yukon were living in the bush off and on where I built a log cabin and a greenhouse and survived very well - eventually with a loving and beautiful wife, and two children. Rinpoche actually came up with some students in 1977 and brought them to visit me in our bush home, which was 7 miles off the main road on a bush trail! It was, it seemed, his stamp of approval! He taught me so much. He passed from this life in 2003. He is greatly missed.

While in the Yukon I worked in real estate where I did quite well and was, at one point, in the top 100 in Canada out of 90,000 – not bad eh!  At one point I also worked in a local organic bakery called The Alpine Bakery.

I would also like to add that since I was 18 I have been a vegetarian, feeling that all life is sacred and a healthier way to eat. At 77 and still healthy I feel I have proven that. It is however important to eat organic foods otherwise your body cells do not get the nutrition they need. North Americans are the sickest people in the world and no one is asking why! The way to health is to look at the CAUSE of ill health not ‘cure’! Of course medical doctors have their place but I look to the Alternative health professionals first, and herbal cures before others.

I love the Yukon and its relative quiet and beauty, especially these days when you look out at a world going mad! For those who also recognise this unfolding crisis humanity is facing, here in Yukon would be a great area to live and be an example in which to demonstrate community living, while it – Yukon - still presents such pristine beauty and inspiration.

Thank you Aaron for this opportunity to share with others. Live Long and Prosper!  J  Michael."

Bloggers note: Michael Brine lives in Whitehorse, Yukon and has been a good friend of mine for over two years. When I asked him to share his incredible story, he graciously obliged and wrote this passage for my blog. Thank YOU Michael for sharing a small part of your life. What a wonderful picture you paint.

Michael Brine is currently a regular columnist for the Whitehorse Star and active blogger on the website Mission Ignition - Beyond the Box. He can also be contacted via email at wild.brine621@gmail.com.

I'm an Environmentalist.

This is not a rant. I am writing on behalf of the hundreds who call themselves students of Environmental Studies; environmentalists, if you will. 

You see, we’ve been placed into a box – like many other folks pursuing certain academic things – and that box can be very limiting in terms of image and portrayal of this discipline, leading to more than a few prejudgements from those on the outside. I want to set the record straight. Right here, right now. There’s probably a lot of inaccuracies or - and I hate to use this word - ‘labels’ attached to us Environmental Studies students, but this is just a short list of the ideas other people have had about me during my four years in university. 

1)    I’m a hippy

Nothing against hippies, I’m just not one. On the contrary, identifying yourself as a ‘hippy’ is nothing to be ashamed about; hippies have pulled the human rights wagon further than most groups. At the height of the American Counterculture Movement during the 1960’s, these folks worked on having an incredibly positive impact in many places. If it weren’t for the ‘hippies’,  LGBTQ Rights, freedom of speech, anti-war campaigns and environmentalism wouldn’t be close to what we know and have today. 

And I wasn’t part of any of that. So please, stop calling me a hippie, and read a history book, or better yet watch Zeitgeist. 

2)    I am solely responsible for saving the world 

There’s a really scary word used by big businesses called externalities. It refers to the residual aspects of industry; the side effects of mining, lumber exports, building houses, global banking, etc. and, you probably guessed it, these externalities really mess things up. The damage caused by whatever means to create a product are often ignored because some people think that other interest groups will just take care of it.

According to this logic, I am part of this ‘other group’, solely because I will graduate in a year with a degree that flashes ‘here they come to save the dayyyyyyy!’ In rides the environmentalists on golden steeds, ready to fight for justice and make everything right again. It’s this kind of image that perpetuates thoughts like ‘somebody else will take care of this’ or rebuttals like ‘isn’t there people advocating for that already??’

Sometimes we ride in on golden crocodiles, too.

Take a good look back into history. The only time anything big and important ever got done, such as significant legislation enacted, human rights extended, wars ended, etc, it was because a multitude of people from a multitude of backgrounds came together over some commonality. Environmental Studies isn’t trying to breed a group of distinct individuals who will save the world from inevitable destruction, it is trying to create people who will bring more people together. So stop relying on me to fix everything. 

3)    I am going to work for Greenpeace/PITA

As I near the end of my time as an undergraduate student in university, I enter the realm of expectation I think all graduates-to-be transition into (whether we like it or not). It’s a period of your life when the apparent immaturity and carelessness of student life begins to fade and the adult you forms….As others may see it. Soon, a relentlessly annoying golden question will begin to crawl its way into your life: ‘So, what are you going to do with your (blank) degree after graduating?’

'Lets throw our hats to show how hopelessly unidirectional our lives are!'

I get it. Most people mean no harm with this question; it’s motivated by an unconscious desire to categorize and place you into a nice sounding career and/or lifestyle. You’ve just spent thousands of dollars and four years on a piece of paper, now do something with it. But it’s not that easy, and the answer, these days, won’t seem quite as sexy. In fact, there might not be an answer at all.

A large majority of my peers who have, or are about to, graduate university don’t have a very straightforward post-degree plan. Or if they do, it does not involve finding a permanent job and settling down. Contrary to this trend, I have literally had conversations with other people (sometimes other students) who have assumed I will end up working for Greenpeace when I graduate. Again, it’s that urge to find a poster child for every discipline, and then automatically tag the student to it. That way you won’t have to put any thought into the answer. Business majors have Pfizer, English majors will be teachers, and Fine Arts majors will be jobless (okay, maybe that last one is a tad bit accurate….). 

4)    I practice (inset random generic spiritual thing here)

Yoga. Meditation. Reiki. Tai Chi. Buddhism. Hoola Hooping. 

Whether I’ve practiced these things or not, it’s a bit unfair for one to assume that all Environmental Studies students know everything there is to know about vegetarianism or Jainism. It’s not like we synthesize every one of these activities by osmosis and default into Ghandi. I don’t even think I’d particularly like that. 

5)    I’m going to make you feel bad for eating that chicken. 

There is one thing I can say for sure about Environmental Studies students (at least the one’s at York), and that is there is much higher than average percentage of vegetarians in the program (I being one of them). It could be that a lot of the ideals we study foster this sense of stewardship, but then again it also gets challenged by many in our discipline at the same time. 

There’s this idea largely held by non-vegetarians that us herbivores make it our life mission to publicly shame others while they consume meat. What becomes misunderstood is that our dietary restrictions are for most of us veggies (and I hope I speak the truth on this) a personal choice. Meaning, it has nothing to do with your choices for eating meat. Meaning, you don’t have to ask us if we’re offended before you eat that leg of chicken. It’s okay, you can still be my friend.

Diagnosis: BUSHED

Have you ever started to read a book and, about three chapters in, realize that you are also playing the plot out in real life? Sometimes the right story will land in your hands and have important relevance to your life at that very moment. I have a habit of doing this.

Such was the case when, last April, I purchased Adventures in Solitude: What Not To Wear to a Nude Putluck and Other Stories from Desolation Sound by author and CBC Radio host Grant Lawrence. I figured it would be a good supplement to the trip I was about to take to the West, but wasn’t quite ready for how connected I would feel to Lawrence’s lifelong experiences in the remote Southern coastal destination of Desolation Sound. Now, I could probably write an entire post on how a dying breed of talk show hosts at CBC (Stuart McLean, George Stroumboulopoulos, Jian Ghomeshi) are carrying on the forgotten art of storytelling and proper interviews, but it’s safe to say that Grant Lawrence can be added to that list.

Lawrence’s award winning book stood out to me in one very poignant way: he framed his past at the Sound as both a physical and mental challenge, bringing to the forefront the idea that prolonged periods of isolation in sparsely populated areas can have serious psychological consequences. In fact, about half way through the book, Lawrence dives into the full details of what he refers to as ‘going bush’ (can you see the connections I’m drawing here?!?). According to the author, there are five stages of ‘going bush’: extreme loneliness; onset of depression; resentment; paranoia and eventually.....death. According to Lawrence, many individuals who lived in the Sound for years ended up committing suicide as a result of an inability to cope with ‘going bush’.

Exhibit A: Just another day in the bush.

 As I obviously have a tough time empathising with the final stage of ‘going bush’, I can certainly think of times while I was travelling that I experienced the other four to some degree. My other blog that I co-manage, Becoming Bushed, is dedicated to taking a humorous approach to the mental effects of living far away from anywhere, much like Lawrence does as he recounts his time at his father’s rustic cabin in Desolation Sound. All of this begs the question: should ‘going bush’ actually be considered a serious mental disorder?

My natural curiosity has led me to the internet, the source of all knowledge. Not surprisingly, it was difficult to find any dependable sources that would fully relate the idea of ‘going bush’ with a mental disorder, but I did find evidence of extreme isolation and social segregation which led to pre-existing mental health problems such as severe anxiety, manic depression and schizophrenia. Two major works on this topic are the books The Lonely American: Drifting Apart in the Twenty First Century (J.Olds, 2009) and From Antarctica to Outer Space: Life in Isolation and Confinement (A. Harrison, 1991). The former conducted scientific research to conclude that ‘Surprising new studies tell a grim truth about social isolation: being disconnected diminishes happiness, health, and longevity; increases aggression; and correlates with increasing rates of violent crime.’ (Olds, pg. 24). The data can be scary, but coping mechanisms exist.

In a world where the vast majority of people are moving to densely populated areas, the plight of the lonely traveller may be more pushed aside than ever. It is easy to detach yourself from friends and family back home while pursuing solitude, but it can be unhealthy at the same time. I’ve learned over my years of semi-nomadic living that it is important to always stay in tune with life outside of your immediate reality. One great way to achieve this is to start a blog, communicate with loved ones frequently, or read the news every morning. Always keep yourself and your head in check when you’re in the bush, or the bush controls you.....