Category Archives: Spirituality

The summer of 1991

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I don’t totally remember the circumstances anymore or why I left the grocery store. I had started working as a travel counsellor in the summer of 1988, then later took a job at the local grocery store. I remember leaving that job, probably saying I needed to focus on school. Truth be told, I was probably just ready to move on.

The summer of 1991 I was 17.  I suspect I didn’t have a summer job and was scrambling a bit.  It was likely my own harebrained idea, but I know I had support from key family members for this – let’s try applying to Canada’s Wonderland?

I did and I got the job working front gate selling admissions.

It was the worst summer job I ever had, but it was a super important summer for me.

Independence – I spent a lot of time by myself, exploring Toronto as I was living with my mother and sister, mostly, that summer in The Annex in downtown Toronto.  By that time I knew most areas of Toronto having lived there for 2 years and leaving 10 years earlier.  It felt like my city.

I had to figure things out for myself, like how would I get to work, how would I afford bus tickets to get from downtown Toronto to Vaughn?  There was no subway to Vaughn in those days.

I’ve been thinking about some coworkers in those days.  By the time I was 17, I knew I was gay, even if I couldn’t say the words out loud. Looking back, I’m pretty sure that summer was the first time I’d met other gay men around my own age. None of us were out, but somehow… you knew.  I think that meant more to me than I realized because for the first time I knew there were more of us out there.  I’ve often wondered, what became of everyone I knew?

This was the first time I walked up Church St from College to Wellesley, very much in the closet.  I was nervous, sure I was shaking, I was very much afraid of having to admit to myself that I was gay and what that would do to my world.

35 years later, coming out was one of the best things I ever did, but I digress.

This was the summer I started living life for me.  I had started making changes in my life around living for myself and my own needs a few years earlier, but this is when I really started to take even more control of my destiny in a big way.

I certainly didn’t save as much that summer as I had hoped to, but I learned very valuable lessons.

Music was the soundtrack to all of it. Bryan Adams’ Everything I Do (I Do It for You) seemed to be everywhere. Crystal Waters’ Gypsy Woman (She’s Homeless). Enigma’s Mea Culpa, Latour’s People Are Still Having Sex, and Metallica’s Black Album all found their way into my summer, often drifting out from The Lemon Lounge during lunch breaks.

Before long, Nirvana’s Nevermind would arrive and change popular music almost overnight, ushering in grunge. I didn’t know it then, but just as music was changing direction, so was I.

I spent countless hours at HMV at 333 Yonge Street, especially downstairs in The Basement, where club and electronic music lived. For me, it was paradise. Along with Sam the Record Man, Sunrise Records and even A&A before it disappeared, those stores weren’t just places to buy music. They were places to discover who I was becoming.

I bought my first CD walkman on Yonge St after a recommendation from one of my peers who worked at Wonderland on how to barter to get a reduced price.

At the end-of-summer staff banquet, I somehow won a stuffed pig, the kind you’d normally see hanging from midway games. I still remember carrying that ridiculous thing onto the TTC bus afterward. I was proud of that memento of an incredible summer and still have it.

Labour Day weekend, I headed back home to start Grade 12. There were still two years of high school ahead of me, and I never returned to Wonderland, instead taking a job at a local campground.  I wasn’t the same person who had left home a few months earlier.

Looking back now, I’m proud of that 17-year-old.  He navigated the city, navigated finances, he found people who reminded him he wasn’t alone. He took his first tentative steps toward becoming the person I am today.

I went to Canada’s Wonderland looking for a summer job.  

What I found was the beginning of my adult life.

Why Madonna matters

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With the release of Confessions II, I have been reflecting on what Madonna represents in my world and why I’ve spent so many years defending her.

I’ve been there almost from the beginning.

I was in Grade 3 when I started listening to pop music, the only one in my immediate family who really did. Madonna quickly became an artist I followed closely.

She was my first concert – that famous third night at Skydome for the Blond Ambition Tour, I went with my cousin Erika.  Since then I’ve seen her two more times—The Rebel Heart Tour with Scott, and The Celebration Tour with my cousin Kirsten.

People often dismiss Madonna as someone who simply chased attention. Certainly, she knew how to get people talking, and she’s talked at length about that very topic. I think many people stopped at the spectacle without ever asking why she was truly creating it and looking deeper.

As a young gay kid growing up in rural Ontario in the 1980s, I wasn’t hearing many voices telling me that I mattered.  

Madonna was.

Most people remember the controversy. I remember the education.

What she taught me during those days was that I needed to protect myself – I vividly remember the “Don’t be silly, put a condom on your willy!” message before Causing a Commotion during the Blond Ambition Tour to a huge applause. 

I remember the HIV/AIDS information included with my Like a Prayer album. I remember safe-sex messaging woven into interviews, performances, and her work at a time when misinformation was everywhere.

She didn’t just teach caution.  She also taught that intimacy wasn’t something to fear.

Looking back, that’s what stayed with me most. The message wasn’t “don’t have sex.” It was that there were ways to protect yourself while still allowing yourself to love, to connect, and to be close to another person.

That balance mattered to me as an adult.

I think this is one of the reasons so many gay men—particularly those who lived through the height of the AIDS crisis—call Madonna “Mother.”

She was speaking to us and has continued to through her career.

For countless people, the dance floor became a place where grief, fear, joy, and freedom all existed at once. Her music didn’t erase the pain. It gave people permission to keep living anyway.

I was too young, naive, sheltered, too isolated to fully understand what was happening.  

I was outed in grade 6 and didn’t know any gay men until I was 16 or 17 (1990/1) as I was starting to truly figure myself out.  I knew HIV/AIDS was something that would shape my generation, but I experienced it from the edges rather than the centre.

I didn’t lose friends to AIDS in those days because I was simply too young to have found that community yet. I would later.

My generation lost a whole generation of mentors, activists, people who could counter the messaging young LGBTQ2S+ people were receiving and continue to receive.  My mentors lost their lovers, partners, chosen family, friends and peers.

Being too young and being far from what would become my community didn’t stop me from becoming an activist within my school community within the Halton Roman Catholic School Board in the day, contributing to a coffee house on HIV/AIDS to talk about, educate and raise awareness and wellness to counter homophobia and hate.

At the time, I hadn’t even accepted that I was gay myself.

This would then turn into volunteering with the AIDS Committee of Toronto, helping with the Totally outRIGHT program, being part of a panel discussion at the Gay Mens Sexual Health Alliance conference about how health care professionals can better reach the LGBTQ2S+ community with reframing communication and outreach.

Madonna played a role in that—not because she told me what to think, but because she modelled empathy. She showed me that standing beside people who were being marginalized wasn’t controversial; it was simply the right thing to do.

She stood beside the community at a time when many people were telling us we were immoral, disgusting, dangerous, or disposable. She insisted that LGBTQ+ people deserved dignity, deserved joy, deserved love, we were and are worthy, and deserved to live openly.

We still get this today, and she still stands by us.

For a lonely kid trying to understand who he was, that mattered more than I could have realized at the time.

Listening to Confessions II—especially songs like “Danceteria,” “L.E.S. Girl,” and “Fragile”—I hear someone looking back on the people, the places, and the community that shaped her. Reading about the names she references in “Danceteria,” and remembering the people she honoured during “Live to Tell” on The Celebration Tour, I understand more clearly what she was carrying.

She wasn’t standing beside the community from a safe distance.  She was living through it with her closest friends—her chosen family.

I can only imagine how exhilarating, heart breaking, such a whiplash of emotions during that whole time period.  Trying to build the biggest pop career in the world while watching people you loved become sick, disappear, and die must have been emotional whiplash.

Yet somehow she kept creating joy. She kept telling people to dance. She kept reminding us that we were worthy of love, joy, intimacy, and life itself.

That’s her legacy,

It’s easy for the media to reduce Madonna to controversy. They’ve been doing it for over forty years and that totally misses the point.

The provocation was never the destination. It was the invitation. It forced conversations that many people wanted to avoid and made us question why they made us uncomfortable in the first place.

She was someone challenging shame, prejudice, misogyny, homophobia, and silence.

Was she perfect?  Of course not.  She’s made mistakes, some of them significant. But she’s also shown a willingness to learn, apologize, and keep growing—something many public figures never manage to do.

As I’ve listened to Confessions II, I’ve found myself crying more than once.

Partly because of the music, but mostly because it reminded me of the person I was when I first heard her.

A scared kid.  A closeted kid. A kid afraid to be himself.

A kid who desperately needed someone, somewhere, to suggest that his future might actually be okay.

That’s why she matters to me.  Not because she’s flawless, or that every album is a masterpiece, or that I agree with everything she’s ever done.

Madonna couldn’t know that kid, but somehow she reached him anyway.

She matters because, long before I believed I deserved a full and joyful life, she was already singing as though I did.

Sometimes, that’s enough to change someone’s life.

Listening to Confessions II, I don’t just hear new songs. I hear someone still asking us to celebrate life, to choose joy in the face of loss, and to keep dancing. Confessions on a Dancefloor II is not just a sequel to Confessions on a Dancefloor, I believe it’s also a sequel to Ray of Light with how vulnerable and thoughtful she is on.  

THIS is the Madonna I adore.

Thank you, Madonna. Thank you for helping me become the person I am.

Toward New Light, Carried in Sound

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I love being introduced to new music by friends. It feels like a gift—especially when it becomes something you can share, unpack, and return to together. Not just the sound, but the lyrics, the intent, the meaning behind it all.

My friend Arthur recently introduced me to VNV Nation—“Victory Not Vengeance.” That ethos isn’t just a name; it’s embedded in Ronan Harris’s lyrics and perspective in a way that feels grounded, intentional, and deeply human. Ronan is the frontman and founder of VNV Nation.

I’m honestly surprised I hadn’t come across them before. Given my leanings toward techno and adjacent genres, you’d think our paths would have crossed sooner, but I haven’t spent as much time in industrial or EBM spaces, and somehow they passed me by.

What I do know is this – I’m glad I’ve been introduced and that they didn’t pass me by.

I’ve put together a playlist of tracks that have really landed with me—not just because of the production, which is absolutely outstanding, but also because of the emotional weight carried in the lyrics.

Listening to VNV Nation—and to Ronan speak about his work—has made me reflect on my own music as Polyatomic.

There’s a parallel there: the idea of creating from a place of honesty, of putting emotion into the music first, writing from the heart and letting everything else follow. If it resonates, it resonates. Exploring different styles and inspirations for our albums.

I’m going to be heading into production on my fifth full-length studio album and I admit, I’d can feel a pull to go in a Futurepop direction and while I don’t have the hardware list that VNV Nation has, I have more than enough to carve out my own interpretation of that sound.

In some respects, I’ve already brushed up against it. Take a listen to my Techknow album, there are hints of that direction—ideas that could be further refined. I wrote that album as a thank you to time I’ve spent in Berlin, and also a chance to decompress with something looser, more exploratory and less concerned with polish after releasing Icebergs which was an intense and emotional production and body of work.

Incidentally, Techknow was heavily hardware-based too.

I’ve always gravitated toward strings, pads, and piano—layering in an acid line here and there, building something cinematic, sometimes trance-like. I say I’ve never really identified with harder-edged electronic styles in my body of work, but honestly, you can hear there’s something that’s been waiting to be released and I’m ready to go there, to really explore.

And I think VNV Nation has shown me you can take an album like Strength, add harder elements and create thoughful and joyous music that takes a listener on a journey.

This feels like a natural evolution rather than a departure and it’s something I want to explore more intentionally.

I know I’m on the right path with Polyatomic and what I want it to represent, the emotion that project conveys.

I’ve always said my next album was likely to be called Hardware and feature more of my hardware as I’ve been heavily soft-synth oriented. I really do want to explore analogue synthesis more, which I think will take me more in an experimental direction. I’ve been mulling other titles as well given recent events in my life that I know will greatly impact the sound of my next album.

Arthur and I are going to see VNV Nation live in Toronto, in May. I’m really looking forward to sharing that experience—with him, with the crowd, and with music that, in a short time, has already become something quite personal to me.

My first music video drops tomorrow for Terra Nova which was released on Icebergs, finally getting a video treatment it was supposed to receive years ago.

Back to my roots

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This past weekend I flew to Gander, Newfoundland and Labrador to spend time with my sister and her family. My brother flew out to connect with us.

During the trip I also got to meet 4 aunts, a grand-aunt and 9 out of 28 cousins that I counted when going through the family tree with Karen. Talk about mind blown on just that point.

I don’t talk a lot about my spirituality, but I firmly believe that at times I’ve felt a guardian angel looking over me. For example, when living in Frankfurt, Germany in December 1995, I was feeling so disconnected from family and friends, and the emotions of that – it was like something was telling me to get back to London where I had family. I did get back to London to find on Christmas Day my father had passed away.

I’ve put in a lot of work on myself over the past 6 years, and even broader than that, the past 23 to 26 years between therapy, self help, courses, and mentors – it’s like the universe saying, “You’ve done good b’y, here’s your family and they’re awesome, now go and connect, enjoy and feel the love.”

I know it doesn’t work that way, or maybe it does. Who knows? Karen, Kevin, and the rest of our family have come into my life at the perfect time.

I could not have asked for a more perfect weekend of connection, getting to know each other, and bonding. The love everyone has shown me has been amazing and I hope everyone knows it’s returned in spades.

My heart is full and bursting about how the two of us have bonded. Having an older brother like Kevin who shares similarities to me – sensitive, pragmatic, humourous, smart – has me elated. Having an older sister who values connection and family, smart, straight up, who has taken the time to truly get to know me, who reaches out, who took me under her wing this weekend to introduce me to a bunch of stuff I hadn’t experienced before – I could not ask for a better older sister and that has been super healing for me.

I’ve never experienced that level of connection from siblings – ever. Maybe in our early days with Robyn. I said to my aunt (one of my aunts, now? LOL!) and two of my cousins – I have no idea where Robyn and I went wrong as I search within myself. The overwhelming response was, “It’s not on you at all. You both had a messed up childhood and the fact that you came out of that a great person is a testament to your strength.”

I feel it, and not only do I feel seen after years of being afraid to show my light, years of being afraid to speak up, ask, to be validated.

I wish Robyn and I had a much better connection than we do, I think the odds were stacked against us from the beginning for a number of factors I won’t go into. I will say this, I don’t think she had the space nor the permission to just be and to find herself and I hope, very much hope she is able to find herself and heal to the best of her abilities. She deserves light, love and happiness. I have always felt this despite the friction between us.

There are so many people who are no longer with us that I wish I could share in this moment.

  • My adoptive dad who would have been super proud of all of us,
  • Scott’s mum, Betty, who was so instrumental in showing me what family was and accepting me in to her family, her consistency and love,
  • Our dad who, I don’t know if he’d be shocked or not, but I know he would be elated and proud of my accomplishments and I know, if he’s present spiritually in our world and if he were still living today, that he would be proud of Kevin and Karen for how they have embraced me.

I also wish my adoptive mum and sister could witness this moment with grace and appreciation, putting themselves in my shoes for once. Enough said there.

There is once person I do want to acknowledge and that is Kevin and Karen’s mum, Joyce. I appreciate her willingness to be present with all of us this past weekend. She is amazing.

Newfoundland is beautiful – the land, the people, the wildlife – all of it. We have some amazing unique traditions and way of life, some of which does parallel rural areas in other areas of Canada but it is still unique. For many, this is how Newfoundlanders survived the challenges of that environment.

I have always hated winter and cold weather. This weekend had me embracing winter in a way I haven’t in forever if ever. So much so, I’m ready to head to Bass Pro Shop next winter and get a pair of snow pants – it would be “weird” to see here in Toronto but it would help me embrace winter more.

I can’t wait to get back to Newfoundland this summer. I don’t have a date yet given Scott is headed into knee replacement surgery season with his first surgery taking place on April 21st and second one in July. I am hoping Scott could come with me but it may have to wait until next year.

I have a lot of Newfoundland content coming up on my YouTube channel. It’s part of me returning to own what was always mine. The first video is up, about the International Lounge at Gander International Airport.

This song, Where there is light by VNV Nation (VNV for Victory not Vengeance) speaks volumes about how I’m feeling right now and has been playing through my head. Ronan’s music, his lyrics and what he sings about hit home for me.

Learning to live with anxiety

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I live with anxiety.

It’s something that I really didn’t have an understanding of until I considered that I may be living with it, researched it, and the pandemic, plus some brewing personal situations that I needed to resolve was really the impetus for me figuring it out.

I think, when people think about anxiety, they think of the stereotypical suburban housewife in the 80s and earlier, taking Valium, not able to cope with things; which does a real disservice to women and stigmatizes what anxiety is, and how it can be treated.

We’ve come a long way since then and while mental health is still misunderstood, the treatments, compassion and care that exists today versus what I’ve seen friends go through, say, in the 80s is night and day.

NOTE: This blog entry discusses my mental health journey and while aspects here might help you, I am not a mental health expert and I advise you that if any of what I have written resonates with you, do consider speaking with a therapist.

Consider being in a situation that involves someone else where your mind is racing trying to figure out all the angles, possibilities and outcomes of the situation in advance so you’re prepared to get through any variant of the situation – a perpetual what if machine.

You’re nervous about saying the right thing in the right way because it’s super important to you, you have often been misunderstood in life, so you want to make sure you’re heard and understood. It consumes you and takes up valuable cycles you could be using to focus on other things in your life.

You become irritable, emotional – you want to do the right thing- you want to do the right thing for yourself, you also want to be considerate and do the right thing for the person you need to talk with and open up to, but you can’t because you’re trying to find the perfect way to meet your needs, their needs, to be sensitive to the other person and true to yourself.

You agonize over it.
You beat yourself up.

At least, in how anxiety has been showing up for me, this has been a common scenario. I recognize that anxiety shows up in a multitude of different ways for different people. Overcoming and learning to live with anxiety is a unique journey for everyone.

There are a few approaches I figured out for myself that seemed to work

  • I write it out as it helps to get out of your head – a theme – and allows me to collect and organize thoughts. I can spin so hard, its very hard to keep thoughts organized.
  • I talk to others to get out of my head – starting to see a theme? Mainly because I have the sense to say, “I need help!”. I know I’m stuck inside, and need to check in with someone else who is outside the situation to get a reality check, to be challenged and ultimately to help stop that spinning so I could do what I needed to do – which was to talk the person I really needed to.
  • In some situations I’m able to talk directly to the person, which really is how it should be, but it’s not as smooth as it really should be, and even in those moments, when talking things out, my head can be spinning hard.

That spinning is not kind, it will pull in other baggage, and it’s very hard to dig out. I knew that if I talked directly to the person involved about the situation I’m spinning about, it’s not going to be pretty. At least, that’s what I thought at the time.

In all honesty, no matter how weird or meandering or even ugly the path to the resolution to the situation you’re in is, dealing with it straight up is actually better. The people that can and do see past your baggage will be the ones that will help you figure things out and support you in seeing through your anxiety and triggers.

The character of Anxiety in Inside Out 2, a recent movie from Disney-Pixar, anthropomorphizes a great representation of anxiety. I really feel that if I had this story growing up, it may have given me some good food for thought or at least planted a seed where I could have realized earlier what was happening and lessened the impact on my life.

I’m not going to talk here about how I was able to connect the dots that lead to me learning how to mitigate my anxiety as it did involve some unconventional methods. The parts I will talk about are

  • it did involve looking at situations that were triggering me. At the time I was dealing with triggers constantly going off from multiple sources – I am surprised I kept it together. For me, this was typically the starting point for where anxiety starts for a given situation.
  • I had the sense to take the time to understand why I was triggered – what in my past is trying to inform me that I’m in some form of “danger zone”? This part of my looking inward journey was huge and I had to build courage to go there and face my interpretation of the past, and heal from it. I had to go back and deal with my past.
  • I spent time with my therapist to talk through what I was seeing and experiencing.
  • Most importantly, I have some amazing family around me who gave me:
    • a safe space for me to be able to deal with whatever I was dealing with in real time as things came up,
    • while they called me on my shit, it was clear they had my back and loved me and stood for me being a better Iain, and they were invested in being part of my life just as I wanted them in my life,
    • the space to make mistakes and learn from them,
    • reminders that I was worthy of that support and love,
    • a voice, that would be listened to, where I felt heard, and people took the time to understand me and what I was dealing with,
    • where I could get reassurance and learn to trust that reassurance,
    • where I could express emotion and not feel locked up, that i was wrong for just feeling and expressing that emotion – that my emotions are real and valid,
    • challenged me in a good thought provoking way – during that whole period I was constantly hearing “Get out of your head, Iain”,
    • giving me the love and respect that I really needed to get through such a weird space that I happened to get into, that I needed to dig out of.

While only I could do the work, having that support network was what I really needed to sort myself out. Definitely a gift the universe has given me.

Today, I can say my mind is the quietest it has ever been, ever. I cringe thinking about the times it lead to awkward and explosive situations. I’m not comfortable with it, and all I can do is accept that it happened and where required clean it up. learn from it and be a better person.

Anxiety has shaped my life for an incredibly long time. I can go back to my childhood where it started. I have no idea if it’s something that I’m predispositioned towards or a learned behaviour – I suspect a combination of both.

I certainly recognize what I went through, and the situations that made me a pro at the spin and keeping things to myself. My strong independent streak because I couldn’t rely on or didn’t even have the support I should have had when I was younger, and keeping things to myself as a result, among other things, all this adds up, and I am not surprised at how this turned out. It was a perfect storm.

I am proud of the man I’ve become, I’m proud of the hard work I’ve done on myself to be a better human. The true me has always been upbeat, personable, hardworking, someone who wants to do the right thing, make the world a better place and an introvert-leaning ambivert willing to look inwards,

The people that matter, I know, are also proud of me. I would not be where I am without them.

Eulogy for Gavin

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Last night, November 8th, 2015, our cat Gavin went to the great kitty home in the sky after a period of slowing down and losing weight.  I had noticed that on the last few trips that Gavin was getting lighter, and more frail though his energy for life and the love he gave never diminished.

Gavin was adopted at the PetSmart during a time when the Toronto Human Society was visiting during a time where there were many cats needing homes in the city.  As soon as you picked him up, he started licking your nose.  I was hooked.  He had such a nice disposition, and it stuck with him for all 15-16 years of his life with us.

Gavin only hissed at me a handful of times, and the first day he lived with us, he hissed at is as he was out of his element.  I let him be and he soon came around to jump up on our futon, sit on my alp and even my laptop, sit in front of the keyboard at my desk.  He became our cat, and I was his Daddy. Scott in many respects was the Mummy.  Or was it the other way around with me being so nurturing and Scott sometimes having to be the tough one?  Who knows.

He wasn’t a fastidious cleaner, but his coat was usually immaculate other than usually regular brushings which he didn’t mind, and when he was much bigger he needed some help scratching behind his ears.

Gavin, I always said was like a dog that we never had.  He would always greet us at the door, be waiting at the door for us to come home, meow and pawa at us for attention.  I think he disliked the fact we’d spend more time with our laptops than fussing him, always wanting attention.  He was playful and jovial

Shadow, our other cat, came into our lives 4 months after we picked up Gavin.  We wanted Gavin to have a brother or sister, so that he wouldn’t be alone and they seemed to enjoy their company together at the start, sleeping close to each other.  I’m not sure what changed but some time later during the 15 years together, they seemed to only just tolerated each other, although they never got into big fights like some cats do.  They never got into big spats, but Shadow certainly asserted herself, Gavin was mostly a pacifist.  They definitely had a brother/sister bond that we’re very glad they formed.

Gavin always had Shadow’s back, no matter what.  If we were brushing Shadow, which she really hates, he would always keep an eye on her to make sure we were treating her well, which we always do.

I was hoping that towards the end of Gavin’s life, Shadow may realize what was going on and be re-conciliatory but even this weekend, she raised her paw to Gavin.  Sadly, she realized what was going on when she saw Gavin for the last time, last night and she did have a bit of a shocked reaction.

When Scott and I lived for two years in Campbellville, it was a joy seeing Gavin walking outside, going down the stairs of the balcony, basing in the sun and grass, and hunting.  He even brought back a few mice for us.  He seemed fearless in his quests for new adventures and took the three moves (Thorncliffe Park, Campbellville and the current condo in Etobicoke) in stride making each home his own.

Nothing meant more than his nose licks anytime I wanted them, and they were never taken for granted.  I loved scritching his head in appreciation, hearing his loud purr.  Even before his passing yesterday – he’d pop his head up, lick my finger or nose, and purr loudly as I stroked his coat.  This is what I will miss most.  Him wishing me off on my day at work, and then greeting me at home.

When at home, it never really felt like just the two of us – Scott and I.  It was the four of us – Scott, Gavin, Shadow and me.  Even when our condo corporation tried to tell us we couldn’t have our cats, we fought back to keep them because they ARE a part of our household, they are part of our family unit.  They’re the kids that Scott and I will never have, in many respects.

Scott and I both feel very blessed to have had Gavin in our lives.  I don’t know what we did to deserve such a great cat in our lives.  I’m not sure there will ever be another cat like Gavin in our lives, especially given the condo corporation won’t allow us to have cats.  Just birds and fish.

Gavin you will be missed and that really does not describe how any of us feel.

Gavin comes from a long line of cats in our lives.  Growing up in Newfoundland, Mum and Dad had siamese cats, Aussie and Tilley.  When we moved to Campbellville, we had Morris (Robyn’s) and Timbit (mine) who were both children of my Aunt and Uncle’s cat Beaudica.  Both Morris and TImbit were such nice and wonderfully affectionate cats, like Gavin.   Robyn had Mythrandir, Pirate Jenny which was my Aunt’s cat, and my cousins Kirsten & Barry currently have a cat named Gracie.  Of course, we still have Shadow as well.

1987

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It was 1987.  I would have been 12 going on 13.  A young friend of my cousins and my sister, although he would have been about 17 or 18, was dealing with severe manic depression as a result of bipolar disorder.  Unfortunately the mental health services in Halton Region were completely useless at the time and unfortunately the young man committed suicide.

This was the first funeral I had ever attended, and the first at Holy Rosary Parish in Milton.

What happened during that service was, quite frankly, disgusting.  In short during the sermon, the priest at the time said that the young man would not be allowed into heaven.  You could hear the wailing of the whole congregation.  Seeing the mother of the young man completely distraught was inexcusable.  There was practically a revolt as youth who were attending shouted back at the priest.  The priest would hear nothing of it.  He, unilaterally, decided that the young man wouldn’t be allowed into heaven because he took his own life.

I know I was a mess after that, and while I didn’t feel I had any power to do anything, this sparked within me, how important peer counselling and mental health is, and that attitudes had to change.  People living with mental health challenges such as bipolar disorder need compassion, understanding and help.  And this is what drove me to volunteer in such programs.

I wasn’t going to change the church’s view, but I could do other things.  Over the years, I hoped and prayed that attitudes would change.

And another suicide would happen again to a second friend a year and a half later in 1988.  I wasn’t at that funeral – I should have been.

Yesterday I attended the funeral for a friend from high school who committed suicide.  I was apprehensive about the church service knowing what happened in 1987.  I still to this day feel the anger of that situation.  That was not going to stop me from celebrating and grieving the life of my friend from high school, with the community of people that loved him.  This was too important.

That said, the church has learned since that time.  Our friend was sent on his way to the afterlife with full blessings.  It was a beautiful thing to see, that attitudes have changed.  This helps to bring some closure to a 27 or 28 years pain.  I am still brought to tears thinking about this part of the service.

There are many things the Roman Catholic Church has done wrong over thousands of years.  This doesn’t erase that, but it does show you can teach an old dog new tricks and that enlightenment can happen.  I know Pope Francis is working to steer attitudes of the church, or so it seems.  I pray that one day the Roman Catholic Church will somehow collectively atone for it’s sins.

This doesn’t mean I necessarily support the Roman Catholic Church, but I believe it is important to acknowledge positive changes seen.  Thank you to the Pastor who celebrated a life lost yesterday and for providing that healing for me, and for providing a place where we don’t have to deal with old attitudes such as what happened in 1987.

It’s too soon for any of us

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I wrote this a few days ago, posted on Facebook but wanted to keep this in my blog,

I’ve been sitting back listening to some music from my high school days, which often gets me reminiscing about those days. Believe it or not, high school for me, despite all the awkwardness that happens had lots of good times. Definitely better than the previous three years prior.

I never felt like I belonged in any particular one group and I seemed to be quite transient between a group of friends my age and older into technology, programming, science and music; a group into technology and sports (later when I started playing Rugby); and another group of friends my age and younger who very much eclectic and at one level a bunch of misfits, again with a unifying interest in music, but more diverse between technology and arts.

This is where I met Chris I have to admit, we weren’t as close as some in the group but there was always a mutual respect, as there was between everyone who was part. In the group that included Chris, Chris, Chad, John, John, Catriona, Laura, Clayton and others; we all had such diverse backgrounds, tastes in music, we all enjoyed either gaming and computers and then whatever else we brought with us all complemented each other.

As some have alluded, Chris knew how to reinvent himself like Madonna – and that’s not a bad thing. The pranks, late night drives, the first time going to the Bovine Sex Club – THE goth/industrial club in Toronto, and being exposed to harder edged music which has inspired me today.

I always enjoyed Chris’ witty attitude and humour. I liked that he was into cars. I like cars, but he took it to a much deeper level.  

Talking tonight at the visitation, all of us are saying, “It’s too soon for any of us”.

—

The following lyrics from Duran Duran’s song, Beautiful Colours really come to mind for me.

(LeBon/Rhodes/Taylor/Taylor/Taylor)

Today, riding the slow train along the way
Going to who knows where and who knows when
Not knowing where you’re rolling – it’s the learning of this journey

I feel all you good people gather and believe
Being of flesh and breathing is enough
Promise to carry on from each moment to the next one

These beautiful colours, infinite patterns so hard I see
And though we’re all of the same stuff
There’s not one of you who is the same as me

Whoa, the beautiful colours, in different patterns for you to see
Sometimes the beauty of it all seems unbearable ’til the colours bleed (keep breathing…)

Design – everyone’s their own universe
Besides – life isn’t a standard issue it’s customized
Ashes to supernova is the nature of existence

These beautiful colours, infinite patterns so hard I see
And though we’re all of the same stuff
There’s not one of you who is the same as me

Whoa, the beautiful colours, in different patterns for you to see
Sometimes the beauty of it all seems unbearable ’til the colours bleed (keep breathing…)

Keep breathing
Keep loving

These beautiful colours, infinite patterns so hard I see
And though we’re all of the same stuff
There’s not one of you who is the same as me

Whoa, the beautiful colours, in different patterns for you to see
Sometimes the beauty of it all seems unbearable ’til the colours bleed (keep breathing…)