I was born mid-term in the Age of Abundance, 1962. By the time I graduated from high school and then university in the 80's, the demographic placement dead last on the Baby Boomer hit parade was discouraging. All the good jobs seemed to have gone to those fortunate to have born earlier. What to do with our lives? Nobody wanted to hire us and the outlook seemed bleak. And so, I had to learn to think outside the box as the box, clearly, was full.

I worked at a variety of jobs, lived and worked in exotic locales such as Monte Carlo and Fort Lauderdale, and generally learned to live by my wits and intuition. My Mom calls them my 'salad days'. Eventually I returned to my native land and city and began my life in earnest (in the sense that I got a career job and 'settled down'). It didn't take long for me to dream of working for myself and get off the paid slave arrangement; I wanted the perks my employers enjoyed, like better housing, dream vacations, and new cars. This meant I needed a property.

I purchased my first home, in the crowning days of 1997. It was made possible when my brother got married in the summer of 1996. In the spirit of loving both children the same, my parents gave my brother and I each a 'wedding gift' (just in case I ever get married, for real this time) of a $10,ooo downpayment in the event of purchase our first homes. As material gifts go, it was both the most generous and most important one ever, as it enabled me to get in the housing market at eve the single greatest increase in housing prices the world has ever known. Now, I'm not saying it was easy owing the bank the other 92% of the loan, but it enabled me to run my business and live on the same premises, and thus build my fortune, one haircut at a time.

Of course, I can tell this story as such only through the clear lense of 20/20 hindsight. I see now I got lucky. It helped that I have always had a rather stubborn independence streak that increasingly made employment unbearable. That, and not being afraid of a bit of risk and hard work enabled me to ride the upward curve of the market right to high tide. The truth is my studio salon paid the bills, but it was the rising value of my home that was the real money maker; on paper, anyway.

In the darkening days of 1999, when my clients were worried about Y2K and the 'end of the world' scenarios (I had a Mac, so I didn't take the threat very seriously, I must admit), I bought the house across the street. It was bigger, with more land, and I could have a tenant on the top floor, which meant the $100K increase in mortgage could be painless with their input (in theory, anyway - oh, the fearlessness of the naive!). It was both a blessing a curse, this decision. The first two years I was so dog mortgage-poor that my salad days seemed like the impossible dream - I was sick with anxiety and debt. But, I woke up each morning and told myself if I could just keep my nose above the water line my efforts and stress would pay off. So I did, and it did.

And so, ten years later, in 2010, that is the house I sold for a cool $645K, and that's really where this tale begins.

Peace on Earth, Good Will toward All.

I went to a great party last night. There was a mountain of delicious delights - piles of shellfish, imported cheeses, meats of every variety, and lots of sugary sweets. The tree was sparkling with decorations and surrounded by a lake of boxes with bows. By now, it has been reduced to a few gifts, and garbage, lots and lots of garbage. Much of it plastic that will last centuries in the landfill. Holy Christmas.

It seems to me the way we show love and caring for each other during this season is largely by exchanging landfill. No, really. Everything wrapped in paper and bows, unrecyclable. One moment a glorious vision of glittering anticipation, and the next a pile of junk, and - best case scenario - the perfect gift. As it's "the thought that counts", we exchange little trinkets, not substantive things, not necessarily useful or wanted or needed, but a token of our affection for another. And the whole kit and kaboodle sooner, or later goes in the trash....or recirculation, for another trash day in the future. And I, too, am glad to be part of the exchange.

How did we get here? Culturally, we have become so detached from ourselves as animals that we show love - sincere and sentimental - completely outside our consciousness to the destruction of our life support system, our fragile ecosystem. Honestly, it's insane, or immoral, or both. The tragedy is the underpinning of this consumer-palooza is something critical to the well-being of the whole - the Christmas Spirit - 'peace on earth, good will towards men'. Celebrating something essential to our survival, in a manner that ensures we do not. I'm thinking we all gotta think about giving our frontal lobes a test drive on this...

But before I go down that rabbit hole any further, I have to say there is some hope. As a result of circumstances out of our control, most of us have less cash to spend this Christmas, and I've noticed a shift. To be fair this shift has been going on for years, but this year it's gained some momentum. This Christmas, for example, there will be no exchanging of gifts in any of our family gatherings, except for children. Although there has been some hard push-back in years past to keep the tradition of gift exchange aloft, this year it's all stopped. It's not hard to see there is so much need in the world, and how lucky we are to have won the 'birth lottery' here in Canada to be in the top five percent of the planet with our standard of living. We have come together this year with food and drink and gratitude to celebrate our good fortune and abundance. We have full bellies and a safe, warm place to gather.

Of course, when the average distance our meals travel is several thousand kilometers, the animals that become our sustenance live in cruel, unnatural confinement their whole short lives, and the people who grow and handle our food typically don't make a living wage, then a typical Christmas minus the gifts seems to fall short.

But alas, I did my best today in my own actions, and to gently influence others. I am only one person, but I know that the worst thing I could do is nothing. So I count my blessings, and feel gratitude for the bounty my loved ones and I have received. And, by the way, I did have a terrific time at the party ;-).

Dear Diary

Today is my birthday. I always feel like it's a day to start something new; a 'something' that begins, and continues. 'Something' meaningful, intentional, and sustainable. 'Something' that echoes in the chamber of "Be the change you want to see in the world". So, today I begin to BLOG. 

It's an odd thing, this virtual 'Dear Diary'. With both feet in middle age I have yet to feel the normalcy of sharing my thoughts outside my circle of friends and clients. Maybe it's because they have faces, and I can feel their energy in our exchange that makes it more, well, 'normal'. However, in the last year especially, I have marveled at the power of the blog as a grass roots tool. It's so democratic. News, ideas and information go untethered and unedited into the whole, and I love it! The anti-propaganda response to The Nightly News, or at least a vehicle to tell a bigger story.

My story, or part of it, is about going 'Green'. So often in the past years I have nearly become paralyzed at what we are doing to our home; our one and only spaceship in a cold, empty place. Overwhelmed at how our negligence and ignorance is plundering the thin veneer of life that sustains us. Shocked that in my lifetime the ocean biomass, for example, has been reduced 90%. Helpless at the magnitude of it all. Most of all, in despair that I'm part of the problem. 

Eight years ago when my nephew was born, I looked into that face and I knew one day I'd have to explain. He'll ask me, "when you still had the chance, when you knew, why didn't you DO SOMETHING?!?" I've been living every day since, learning and taking action in my home, and in my business to be the change I want to see. I want to be able to look into his handsome adult face, and say, "I Did My Best". 

I am paralyzed no more (also realizing being paralyzed is actually worse than doing nothing!). Frankly, it's the opposite, I feel energized! Even in the face of the images that break our hearts, and the mountain of evidence that we are self-destructing - what we CAN do, what IS being done, the movements and organizations that DO care - this is what I'm focusing on! I am part of the solution. I have to be, we all do. (And while this may seem so obvious to many of you, here in Alberta, this 'green stuff' is radical, uneconomic thinking, and to most, just pure bullshit). 

It is my intention to share this journey, and to add to the voices of the many who want to be part of the solution.

And so it begins....Happy Birthday to me!

Stephanie

"The earth is not dying, it is being killed. And the people who are killing it have names and addresses". Utah Phillips