aging

Sharing her inspiration

On Oct. 8, nonagenarian Gloria Levi was the featured speaker at the JSA Snider Foundation Virtual Empowerment Series session co-sponsored by Jewish Seniors Alliance and the Peretz Centre for Secular Jewish Culture. The topic was What Inspires Me at 90.

Gyda Chud, co-president of JSA and president of the Peretz Centre, welcomed the approximately 70 attendees and shared the background of JSA’s Empowerment series.

Fran Goldberg introduced Levi as a feminist, an activist, a COVID survivor, a gerontologist, a therapist, a social worker and a woman of tremendous confidence, who finds joy in even the darkest of moments.

From her talk, it seems that Levi does indeed find inspiration in everything around her, from rustling breezes and glistening sunsets to soulful self-discovery. She finds meaning in both everyday happenings and the larger matters of the heart and social justice. If we were to sum up Levi’s nuanced and profound wisdom in a word, it would be wholeness. She elevates the whole person with all their perfect imperfections.

To Levi, self-discovery and self-knowledge are paramount values. She illustrated the importance of being true to oneself with the charming story of Rabbi Zusia, who lamented to God, bemoaning his not being like Moses and Abraham. God advised him to be exactly who he is – Zusia. The goal in life is not to strive for perfection but to be authentically oneself.

Through Levi’s lens of wholeness, even a global disaster like COVID-19 has vital lessons. A COVID-19 survivor, Levi refers to the virus as the 11th plague, but also is passionate about the important issues that the pandemic has brought to light. For example, it revealed the discrepancy between the haves and the have nots: the ones who support our daily life – the grocery store clerks, hospital employees, delivery drivers and food workers, among others – in stark contrast with the wealthy. The pandemic has yielded an awakening, a heightened awareness that things need to change on numerous levels, both environmentally and socially, said Levi.

Along with her commitment to social justice, Levi draws connections and inspiration from Jewish sources; for example, she refers to Leviticus, in which God tells Moses to instruct the Israelites to give the land a rest. During the sabbath year, the land is to lie fallow and to be “released” from cultivation, she explained. Weaving rest and restoration into our physical and spiritual worlds is a much-needed change, she said.

In conclusion, Levi quoted Ecclesiastes and reminded us that “vanity of vanities; all is vanity.” Her advice: embrace life, enjoy meaningful relationships and small kindnesses – and find inspiration all around us.

Tamara Frankel is a member of the board of Jewish Seniors Alliance and of the editorial committee of Senior Line magazine. She is also a board member of the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver.

We share same fate

Do you realize that everyone you know will die? Of course you do. All of us know that. But, most of the time, we don’t think about it. We forget about it insofar as it motivates our actions, our interactions with the people in our lives, and the people we meet. If we were wholly cognizant that some of these people were to be gone tomorrow, or next week, wouldn’t it result in some of our behaviours being modified?

We usually have no inkling of when our time will come, or that of our friends or neighbours. When tragedy strikes and we get the bad news, we often react in a drastic way. If we have hates on, we usually stifle them. If we care, we redouble our efforts to connect in ways that might be more useful to the object of our emotion. Even if we don’t have a real link to the person who has died, we may go out of our way to exhibit some form of kindness. We instinctively feel, there, but for the grace of God, go I. Imagining how we would feel in the same situation, we have the urge to do something, anything, to alleviate the pain, the fear, the horror, of the unknown forthcoming.

When the end comes unheralded, suddenly, without warning, it is a shock to the system. Somehow, that person’s passing puts us, ourselves, right in the target zone. The immediacy of something that could happen to anyone, the result of biology or chance, reminds us we are not ready to go. We are chastened by the event.

Attitudes to our final exit vary widely, and certainly evolve over time. When we see some of the reckless behaviour of young people, we have to believe they feel they are immortal. Many out there have the belief that this current “vale of tears” is but a temporary phenomenon, with the best of existence yet to come. My Jewish background and belief system offers no such panacea. We are enjoined to do all we can to get the most out of our current existence.

In my late 80s, I must, of course, accept that I am much closer to the exit scenario than many of the people on this planet. Acceptance is the closest emotion I can discern, having enjoyed a larger slice of life than most.

The people I know have very mixed feelings about the transition we all face. Many are apprehensive. Most of us are happy to do what we can to put off the “evil” day, worried about the experience, and more than reluctant to give up whatever shred of living that we may have in the now, all of our fleshly and mental pleasures, regardless of our pains, potential and real.

What exercises me much more than some of the above is the greediness I feel about engaging with the spirits of all those still around me. Knowing that the time we share is limited by circumstance, more than anything I want to reach out to those souls whose existence I value.

Many of the people I care about have not shared a word with me for decades. My fault, their fault, who knows what were the forces that caused us to drift apart. How strange might they feel about my making an uninvited approach, out of the blue?

If I were to write them a blog like this as a general invitation to reach out and make a contact, some might respond. We all share a common fate. Maybe we also share a sense of the value of our past contacts. Maybe some of you out there are thinking of doing the same thing, reaching out before it is too late? Every week there are some of my contacts that I must erase from my mailing list. So, here I go: how are things for you today? What’s the story? Will we make contact today before the unknown tomorrow comes?

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.

Making aging healthier

Shira Haas is the featured guest at the July 7 event organized by Canadian Associates of Ben-Gurion University of the Negev. (photo from CABGU)

Israeli actress Shira Haas, star of the popular Netflix series Shtisel and Unorthodox, has been busy in recent months. Not only is she preparing to take on the role of a young Golda Meir in the upcoming series Lioness, executive produced by Barbra Streisand, but she is also the featured guest at the Canadian national virtual gala in support of Ben-Gurion University of the Negev (BGU) on July 7.

An “Unorthodox” National Virtual Gala for Brain Research, organized by Canadian Associates of Ben-Gurion University (CABGU), BGU’s Canadian fundraising arm, will raise money for the Canada Fund to Advance Brain Research.

“We are thrilled to share this exciting announcement with our community,” said Mitchell Oelbaum, national president of CABGU.

“According to the World Health Organization, there are approximately 50 million active cases of dementia worldwide, with an estimated 10 million new cases being added each year. Ten million people battle Parkinson’s each year globally. And, according to the World Stroke

Organization, 13 million people suffer from stroke annually. We wanted to do our part to help improve the chances of finding a cure for these debilitating diseases.”

The numbers are large, and there are no signs of a slowdown. That is why the fund was established by CABGU, with the goal of supporting groundbreaking and cutting-edge research for neurodegenerative diseases at the university’s Zlotowski Centre for Neuroscience.

“We are getting closer to determining the causes of age-related neurodegenerative diseases,” explained Dr. Debra Toiber of the department of life sciences in the faculty of natural sciences at BGU. “It’s an exciting time to be a scientist and uncovering the mechanisms of aging.”

Toiber is one of 67 researchers at the Zlotowski Centre. Her lab recently discovered that the SIRT6 protein is critical for the prevention of neurodegeneration, which can lead to Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s diseases. Colleague Dr. Shelly Levy-Tzedek’s lab studies the impact of age and disease on the control of body movement and how best to employ robotics to facilitate a fast and efficient rehabilitation process. Meanwhile, Dr. Claude Brodski, also with the Zlotowski Centre for Neuroscience, is currently conducting a study, albeit in its early stages, that may offer a disease-modified drug target to address the impact of Parkinson’s. While these findings are encouraging, more research needs to be conducted.

“CABGU launched the Canada Fund to Advance Brain Research at BGU in April,” said CABGU chief executive officer Mark Mendelson. “Our team has been hard at work ever since, and there is a strong appetite for this subject matter here in Canada. The sad reality is that we all know someone, whether it is a relative, a friend or a neighbour, who is struggling with one of these devastating brain diseases.”

The national virtual gala is already more than 50% sold out. To learn how to become a sponsor or to purchase tickets, head to bengurion.ca.

Chicken soup and life

I don’t know what the reason is, but I note a change in my attitudes, ideas and emotional makeup. Could it be my advancing age, or was what I’m feeling always there, hidden under the impedimenta of getting through life?

We all start out, when getting on our feet, stumbling about – in choosing our direction, determining a focus, finally forging the path or paths that will be the ones we follow through most of our lives. Our background cannot help but be important in that process and, for some people, it is the essence of who they are. For me, I never felt it was of much matter.

These days, however, as I advance toward the final curtain, with a burgeoning altered perspective, I become more and more certain that I am all about what I was when I started. This may mean nothing to so many of you out there who have re-made yourselves into the images of what you wanted to be, rather than that what you were, but this seems to be the truth for me. I am extremely conscious of this because I had a spouse who totally remade herself into what she wanted to be by conscious effort, but I find now that that was not to be for me.

I know that I am being arbitrary by appropriating the “chicken soup” theme as an ethnocentric symbol of my Jewish background. Surely it is available and present in the culinary arrays offered by so many cultural groups. Nevertheless, I have seized on it because of what it means to me and to so many of my co-religionists. How often was it a centrepiece of the Sabbath meal, when chicken was the only meat offering even in a spare week’s diet, in the shtetl and on the tables of recently arrived immigrants in the “new world”?

For me, no matter how important the item was in the diet, making the sparse stretch so much further, it has a context for me that goes much further, even beyond its important role as “Jewish penicillin.” For me, it speaks of home and hearth. For me, it speaks of a mother’s love for her children, her family and her home. It speaks to me of taking something small and making it into something big that had ramifications for a person all of their lives.

For many us, our lives are shaped by the happenstance of our early experiences. Child psychologists can confirm that the impressions we absorb in our early days can have important implications for the people we become in our later years. I believe that one of the important things parents can offer their children is to provide evidence to them of unconditional love. We absorb that into the essence of our beings unconsciously and it can set us up well for life.

Chicken soup speaks to me of unconditional love. Whoever we are, whatever it is, that love can impart a sense of self-confidence that can otherwise take years of positive experience to generate. It can give us the strength to try, and fail, and try again and again until we succeed, or choose to move on.

For me, the humble chicken soup speaks of that unconditional love. For me, in the Jewish home of my upbringing, that was the message I received. So, now, after many decades of pursuing a life in nonsectarian environments – for the most part, a Jew among non-Jews – I trace back my capacity to arrive and thrive, to the original environment from which I drew my strength.

Am I being too ethnocentric? Surely, working in an environment that was much more merit-based than the one my grandfather and father were born into made an enormous difference? All too true! And yet, for me, I feel the difference of how I grew up.

Whatever your background, from where do you draw the drive that powers you through life? Mine leads back to chicken soup.

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.

Sabbath of life

I am one of the fortunates who has achieved the treasured time of contemplation, a time to appreciate in the profoundest way some inkling of what it has meant to be alive. I am not unique; I do not claim that. There are many around us who share, and have shared, this gift. Usually, it comes to those who have added years to their time on earth.

We have survived the birthing process in the wider sense. We have learned what it takes to live among our fellows. We have found a trade to gain the resources to provide for our creature comforts. We have succeeded in making connections with others to ensure our emotional needs are met. Hopefully, we have made a contribution to others. These things are in our past although we may carry them on for our own pleasure. They seem to be necessary elements in arriving at a time of peace within ourselves.

No matter what your religious persuasion is, or if you are agnostic or an atheist, there is room for this idea within your consciousness. We can survive “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,” as Shakespeare wrote in Hamlet, to arrive at this state and spend some of our time contemplating the mysteries of life. Behind us are so many things we would do differently if only we could. Behind us are the many times of terror, threatening unknowns regarding our plans and projects. Behind us are our brushes with an untimely death for which we were not ready.

If we have been incredibly lucky, we may be leaving behind some material evidence of our passage – a child, a service, some indelible scratch in the wall of time, whether remembered by others or not. Some of us may still have a file folder full of plans, a list of to-do items on our agenda. Godspeed to you! But, if you recognize that this is your Sabbath time, you are now more than willing to pass the baton to others. You are now more than willing to accept that there will always be more things to be done. And you are ready to contemplate that others will be found to carry out and complete those tasks. You are ready to sit back for awhile in the sun, enjoy the beauties of nature, the bounties of nature, the beauty of your children and your children’s children. Or the beauty of other people’s accomplishments, the beauty of other people’s children!

Much remains to be fixed in the world and some of it hurts dreadfully to contemplate. It is not surprising that we sometimes feel overwhelmed. But there are blessings we can count on our fingers. There are things you can point to that you have been responsible for, some positives that you can take credit for. You can take a deep breath and hug yourself. You did good! Real good! You deserve to celebrate the Sabbath, a rest day for your soul.

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.

Scientific breakthroughs

Scanning Israeli news this week has a feel of a sci-fi fantasy. Most eye-catching of all is the assertion by a Tel Aviv University researcher, in a peer-reviewed article, that hyperbaric oxygen therapy can “reverse aging” by lengthening telomeres, the structures found at the ends of chromosomes, by more than 20% on average.

“This means we can start to look at aging as a reversible disease,” Prof. Shai Efrati said, as reported in the Times of Israel. Some gerontologists are skeptical of the claims and some suggest it could open a Pandora’s box of related health issues, but, from ancient times through the 16th-century conquistador Juan Ponce de León to, apparently, contemporary Israel, humankind has dreamed of and sought out a figurative or literal fountain of youth. Whether Efrati’s research will fulfil that dream will be watched closely.

And there are other scientific headlines this week.

Also coming out of Tel Aviv University is news that scientists have destroyed cancerous cells in mice by pinpointing affected cells with “tiny scissors,” while leaving everything around them intact and with no side effects. With trials possibly to begin in humans within two years, they are hopeful that this could be a revolution that could effectively cure cancer.

A third scientific bombshell comes from Israelis in Canada. Eliav Shaked and Roy Kirshon, expatriate biomedical engineers working in Toronto, are developing a speedy, non-invasive diagnostic for patients who are likely decades away from showing symptoms of dementia. While there is no cure yet for dementias like Alzheimer’s disease, the pair believe that an early diagnosis will not only permit individuals to prepare for eventual care but allow doctors to study the progression of the disease and thereby gain valuable insights.

In these pages, we frequently highlight Israeli technological and medical advancements but the news this week really seemed like a dream sequence from a futuristic utopia. Of course, none of these initiatives is a sure bet but they read like a hat trick against some of the most damning health challenges facing our generations.

Is it a coincidence that these are all emerging from Israel? It is no secret that the tiny state is a locus of a massively disproportionate amount of the world’s achievements in a range of fields.

Some books, like Start-up Nation: The Story of Israel’s Economic Miracle, by Dan Senor and Saul Singer, and many other observers have posited that Israel’s successes are achieved not in spite of the adversities the country and its people have faced, but as a direct result of them. So many of the scientific, social and economic advances that have come out of Israel in recent decades are civilian benefits redounding from military research and development, though Israel is by no means the only country for which this is case.

No less significant are the social impacts of compulsory service in a national defence force that some have called the least hierarchical in the world. Individuals who made life-and-death choices for themselves and their colleagues at age 19 or 20 may be less timid in taking major entrepreneurial or other life risks at 25 or 30 than an average North American or European at that age. Not to discount the value of peace and all the benefits it would bring, the circumstances in which Israel exists have created a thoroughly unique social and economic environment.

Coincidentally or not, also in the news this week was a vote at the United Nations in which 163 countries, including Canada, voted for a condemnatory resolution against Israel; five voted against. It is one of 17 resolutions expected in this General Assembly session targeting Israel, while just seven country-specific resolutions are expected to be aimed at condemning every other injustice on the planet. Canadian Jewish organizations and pro-Israel commentators are furious at Canada’s vote, which directly contradicts pledges made by Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, including during the last election campaign.

While many are appalled at the hypocritical obsession with Israel, and certainly Israeli diplomats are in the fray denouncing the vote, average Israelis, it is safe to say, remain sanguine. They have seen far worse attacks than that by the world community in the comparatively impotent global parliament that the UN General Assembly has become.

While it would be nice if the world judged Israel with moral measuring sticks commensurate with those we use for every other country, in the end it doesn’t seem to make much difference, thankfully. Even through the pandemic, Israelis have continued to try and turn science fiction into scientific reality. This week’s news alone included the possibility of cures for cancer, dementia and aging itself. And the benefits of such research do not accrue solely to Israelis, but to all of us – whether the nations of the world at the General Assembly recognize and appreciate that fact or not.

Shabbat with Bubbie

“I learned about climate marches and I learned about dancing bubbies,” said my niece Fae, 9, when we were discussing Bonnie Sherr Klein’s new children’s book, Beep Beep Bubbie, over FaceTime. Among other things, my niece Charlotte, 7, learned “you can learn to ride a bike at 53 and anything is possible.… And I learned about grandmothers who can shush a crying boy.”

Amid much laughter, including talk about dogs pooping – Bubbie has a dog – and what my nieces recalled of Vancouver from their visit here last year, Beep Beep Bubbie offered more discussion than I had anticipated. But, before I get to that, I have to say, for the record, that my nieces have dancing bubbies in their lives, and bubbies who can shush crying children, so they more related to these aspects of Bubbie’s character than learned from them. With that qualification and butt covering, I continue with the review, starting with the basic story of the book.

It is Shabbat and Kate and her little brother Nate are going to visit their grandmother, who is going to take them to Granville Island to buy apples for Rosh Hashanah. The kids have been told there’ll be a surprise waiting for them at Bubbie’s. That surprise, though – Bubbie’s new scooter – isn’t a happy one initially for Kate, who “already missed the Bubbie she used to have. That Bubbie danced and took them to climate marches.” However, during the afternoon’s adventures, Bubbie’s scooter not only allows her to venture farther from home than she otherwise would have been able to manage, but has other advantages, as well.

After their trip to Granville Island, Kate shares a library book that she’s brought along for the visit. About American educator, activist and suffragist Frances Willard, Kate and Nate find out that Willard “fought for women to have the right to vote. When Frances was 53 years old, she learned to ride a bicycle to show that women could do anything.” A conversation ensues about why Willard wouldn’t have known how to ride a bike. “People were afraid women’s ankles would show under their petticoats,” explains Bubbie. “Can you believe it?”

Well, at my nieces’ house, this part of the book was met with disbelief and more laughter, as Charlotte was keen to show off her ankles, which were hard to see, given the placement of their computer and her being the height of a 7-year-old. But, before things deteriorated into mayhem, Fae said, “I also learned that girls are tough.” And, she “learned another reason why women weren’t treated fairly in the past.”

“And what was that reason?” I asked.

“Because women didn’t ride bikes because their ankles were going to show. And they couldn’t vote, [it was] like they didn’t have an opinion.”

“It’s definitely not fair,” said Charlotte about people thinking that girls showing their ankles was wrong.

All in all, Beep Beep Bubbie elicited much talk and not an insignificant amount of gymnastics. The illustrations by Élisabeth Eudes-Pascal are wonderfully colourful and fun; full of energy and movement. Both Fae and Charlotte gave a resounding “yes” when asked if they liked the pictures.

One the drawings is a two-page spread of Bubbie, Kate and Nate and the park, where they join in the fun of flying kites. One young person is in a wheelchair, and Charlotte asked why Bubbie had chosen a scooter instead. Not knowing the answer, I asked the author. Here is her response: “I chose a motorized scooter over a wheelchair, btw, because it felt more sportif,” wrote Klein in an email, “and I am lucky enough to be able to transfer, which keeps me a bit more mobile.”

I like knowing, but the reasons aren’t important, as far as the story goes. Art is to be interpreted and my nieces and I talked about a lot of ideas, from serious to silly, during our FaceTime book review session.

Published by Tradewind Books, Beep Beep Bubbie can be purchased from pretty much any online bookseller. Enjoy!

Continuing to give it a whirl

A whirligig is a top, or spinning device, something constantly changing. I don’t know about you, but I sometimes feel my head spinning. Whether we are talking about the internal – the radical changes many of us experience in our lives – or the external, the remarkable way the world around us has changed, I think I have got it right, in describing life as a whirligig.

Sometimes, I feel a churning in my insides, as I try to decide whether to laugh or cry. Isn’t it incredible that we start out as these wee things, helpless as puppies? We are even worse – we don’t, as newborns, have the survival instincts of other animals. Then, we grow up as creatures capable of organizing events that can shake the world, at least events that can shake the world around us, metamorphose the people and environment around us. I find that an astounding reality, don’t you?

Creating a new life, as some of us have been blessed with the chance to do, potentially alters all of human history every time it happens. Some humans have done that, and they were born of man and woman. Now, we are seven going on eight billion. What amazing potential lies in human hands! Who knows what intelligences currently lying outside our ken we are yet to master.

I grew up as one of the nonentities and, yet, I have affected the lives of millions who don’t even know my name. No guarantees. We could arrive here just to be another creature consuming resources. But, when I consider the trajectory of my all-too-common life, I shake and twirl, like a spinning top. What about those around us whose names we all know? They also started out on this planet as being more helpless than puppies, but became forces of nature that thrust themselves into our consciousness.

Maybe that is not the most important model. What about those unseen and unknown to us who led a life that yielded offspring, providing the continuity necessary to ensure the survival of humanity’s way of life? All of us started out as an idea that was born into flesh and blood, presenting the option of acting for good or evil. That it works out for the good so many times is astounding, when there are multiple things that can go wrong. We know about those, too. I am letting it all wash over me, making me happy and sad.

Can I talk about some of the ways in which the nature of my external world has changed? I was challenged by the existence of the computer when I was in my 50s. Before that, I remember going into a computer centre in the business I worked in. It occupied a vast air-conditioned space, tended by individuals who were regarded as acolytes of a mysterious priesthood. Today, I have more computing power in the machine I am typing this tale on than was contained in the whole of that metaphoric temple. All that data stuff held for the world’s business has vanished from their physical premises; it’s now in the “cloud,” held electronically in an obscure corner of the United States.

Nowadays, in an instant, I can be present at an event occurring in real time in a place I have never heard of that is 6,000 miles away. If I have the number, I can talk face-to-face with a person halfway around the world!

I can remember shivering in fear as the radio announced what our losses were on land and sea during the Second World War. How immediate would those things be today? We have seen it depicted on TV. Star Trek, with its once-only-imaginable technology, is coming into our living rooms and lives, in living colour. Our appliances are becoming smarter than we are. Is it any wonder that my head begins to spin when I think about it? Our grandkids take this all for granted. They stare at us in disbelief and laugh.

We don’t understand the half of what is going on. But we try to cope with all of this. I have not yet thrown up my hands. I take courses and try to learn new things. I watch webinars. I blunder about expecting failure, and experience it. Bit by bit, I learn a minimum, and I gratefully accept any help offered. I am grateful for the patience of others and try to be patient myself. I revel in small victories of understanding. I resist computer updates that may change the things I know how to work, putting off improvements that leave me at a loss. I accept that I will not learn to know it all.

So, my head is spinning on the turntable of my life, which is also spinning. I make an effort to keep in contact with others of my ilk who are in the same place. We can compare notes and share news of gains and losses. So far, my younger near and dear speak to me in languages I still understand. They make allowances for my decrepitude and hide their amusement at my distresses. I hug my Bride and friends close and closer to ensure I retain human contact. We continue full speed into an evolving future that may be even more beyond my understanding.

I know that, at some time or another, I will have to get off the turntable and hand in my IDs and passwords. Until then, I continue to give it a whirl!

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.

Don’t wait to tell story

The other day, I went looking for a friend I met during my university days, one I had lost touch with after years of companionship. I looked him up on the internet and discovered to my dismay that he had passed away some 11 years ago. I was too late to hear his story from his own lips. I was too late to tell him my story from my own lips to his conscious mind. I felt robbed of something I felt I was entitled to. Up until the moment I learned of his fate, he was very much alive for me.

Recently, an acquaintance of my Bride’s, someone I had gotten to know through her, a person we had been visiting because of an illness, died in hospital. She unexpectedly took a turn for the worse and, in the space of seven days, had changed from someone we had been conversing with, to a mere body. I am not a stranger to this phenomenon, having lost a spouse similarly to a lingering disease, but I was shocked at this sudden transition.

I am long since retired from being an active presence in an enterprise. I recently gave up being an active manager of my own financial affairs. What I have evolved into during the last decade or so is being a teller of stories. I am still very busy at that. One of my greatest pleasures is to hear from one of my correspondents that I have expressed for them their very thoughts, if only they had put a pen to them.

All of us have stories we want to tell. We all have lots to say, lots we wish to say. Often, we do not go to the trouble of communicating our thoughts and experiences. Too often, our stories die with us. I think that is a pity. I am trying my best to ensure I am not guilty of that.

It has been a long time since my thoughts have been shared with millions of listeners. It has been many years since mine was a household name. Little matter! Though my stories, as of late, have been shared with only a few, my pleasure is gained in the telling. And in the rare responses of some of my fellows. And in the continuing hope that I leave some residues of thought here and there. That is my immortality. (Not true, of course, as I have been blessed with progeny, but you know what I mean.)

These days, death stalks us with every breath we take. The “us” I speak of are those among us who often have more stories to tell than our younger companions, by virtue of our having been around longer. We seem to be more vulnerable to the rampant virus seeking a place for replication in the air we breathe, and this vulnerability is a reminder of how important it is to take the trouble to share some of the riches many of us have dearly accumulated. The stories we have not yet told die with us.

I am highlighting this part of our mission in life. We have held a job and hopefully it contributed something. It gave us a livelihood, which may have allowed us to raise a family and accumulate something material to pass on. We may have shared things and thoughts with others, publicly and privately. We may have enriched our own lives and the lives of others. We have stories to tell. Wouldn’t it be a pity not to share them with others? Surely there are valuable secrets in that treasure chest! Even the things you may not be proud of may have paid off in valuable lessons that you made good use of.

There is a reason for us to survive the dangers around us a little longer. So, please, more masks, more handwashing, more social distancing! We need to hear your stories before you go. You owe it to your public. You owe it to yourself.

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.

Clearing the decks

In every grouping of humans, there is a leadership structure. That’s the way it works for humans. That’s the way it works for animals, too, when they organize in groups.

Generally, for animals, it’s a combination of smarts and strength that wins the day, with physical strength often being an important part of the equation. The same must have been true for humans in our primitive days, and still is to an extent. In some periods of human history, there were those who were able to establish dynasties, where successive generations achieved leadership by right of birth, sometimes sanctioned by what was called “divine right.” The deity was called in to account for the continuing rule by a family in tribal or national context.

In more recent times, leadership has often been gifted to those who exhibited merit, rather than pure might. Those who were successful at their life tasks were called upon to serve in leadership roles to the benefit of those for whom they took responsibility. Therefore, many in leadership positions are more advanced in age, except in the most competitive arenas.

Well, guess what? There is suddenly a new selector in town! Coronavirus!

Some people are forecasting that we will see as much as three-quarters of the world’s population infected by COVID-19. Try as we might, and even as we may be successful in flattening the curve, most of us will eventually have to face the test of living through an infection by the virus. If we can find a vaccine, that will alleviate the losses. But, for the next year-and-a-half, at least, many of us will have to face the test. If our healthcare systems can sustain themselves under the onslaught, again, the losses will be fewer. If not, the choices will favour the younger and those more likely to survive. What this all means is that those who are older, those who are more likely to be among those in leadership, will be more likely to be among the fallen. Fate has taken a hand in our succession planning.

I am among the somewhat longer in the tooth, facing my 86th birthday. It is apparent that, in the current environment, this epistle may turn out to be my eulogy. Not many in my situation have the opportunity to deliver this kind of message ahead of time.

I have had meaningful work and the satisfaction of making, in my own mind, a worthwhile contribution to the lives of others, of my fellows. I feel my parents would have been proud of me. I had the joy of fathering children who have turned out to be good human beings. I have had the joy of finding and living with the love of my life. Flawed as I am, I am content. I am among the fortunate in this world. I am not abandoning the race but I am prepared for whatever the future holds. I wish the same for all my fellows.

This event we are living through is a feature of any life on any planet in our cosmos. A meteor struck our globe millennia ago, causing a global winter, which doomed the dinosaurs and permitted a mammalian ascendancy. Homo sapiens has prospered. We have survived plagues and influenzas. We have conquered many communicable diseases. We have managed to increase our food production capabilities so we did not starve when our numbers on this planet increased so much that our wise men believed we were doomed. We have continued to consume that arable land for our structures at a rapid pace and yet survive.

We are facing a crisis in the way we pollute our air and our waters, one we have yet to come to terms with. Rising temperatures on our globe may yet reach a point of no return. The pandemic we are facing, as other life forms on our planet seek their place in the sun, may turn out to be the least of the problems we will have to cope with.

In the meantime, this pandemic is clearing the decks of those in the age range I share. I don’t know about you, but it has captured my full attention – I can feel the target on my back. Keep your physical distance, please!

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.