Pop 89: Slow-breaking News from The Subtle World
By Madonna Hamel
Today is one of those “That’s enough, shut ‘er down” days. And by that, I mean enough with the doom-scrolling, the gawking at the latest “fast-breaking,” hard-hitting” news! I didn’t move to the vast, open, quiet, dark, mysterious prairie to drag the world with me. Nor to re-live my past life as a daily reporter and researcher, struggling to stay on top of the most “relevant” stories of our day. A past wherein producers - thank God, not all of them- warned: “You are only as good as your next story.”
I came to Val Marie, on the edge of Grasslands National Park, because I was exhausted. Because my “kick-ass” approach to both my work and my life was backfiring. I was kicking myself faster and closer to an early grave.
I’ve written about this before, how it seems this new generation of young women seem to be enhancing a desire to ape male modes of behaviour, claiming that to be a feminist is to be a “Bad Ass,” “kicking ass” where-ere we go. But, as I read the latest clever columns by bright young minds, the language and perspective strike me more as “Smart Ass.” Maybe it takes a Smart Ass to be a Bad Ass. In fact, the the political-ideological spectrum of the reporting world these days seems to be either “smart-assery” on the Left, or “kiss-assery” on the Right. Where are the sane, informed, considerate, intelligent, nuanced, committed brave voices? How long must we stomach virtue-signalers and the sycophants?
The Buddhists say: “Honesty without compassion is cruelty.”We seem to have cruelty coming at us from all directions. The cruelty of the Right may be more blatant: Witness the ruthless carelessness with which immigrants are being victimized while the President jokes and laughs with “cool” dictators and promises his “fans” that America will return to being “a country full of people who look like us.” But the Left is not much better. It showboats victimization, exchanging one victim for another as today’s top story becomes tomorrow’s lost story, tumbling into a news cycle churning new headlines every couple of seconds.
I’m in trouble when I don’t start the morning with a cup of tea and a quiet moment of contemplation. Today, despite the meadowlark outside my window, I went straight to my computer, driven by a compulsion to check the headlines. The first thing to appear was another reference to Canada as the 51st state. The writer was being sarcastic, she didn’t mean it. But this kind of glib and flippant reporting put her neatly outside the realm of humanity. It allows her, and reporters like her, to avoid the pain of the plight of her fellow humans.
Irony is not a luxury we can afford. Glibness, flippancy, and sarcasm is all part of an ironic stance taken by those unable to take risks, or discern between reality and entertainment. In an era where “reality” is supposedly “relative”, we fall into making it up as we go along, fashioning a kind of Bespoke Reality.
This is why I moved here: Because nothing says Reality like breaking down in -40-degree weather, -52 with the windchill, and having a local rancher rescue you. Or losing your cell phone along the riverwalk when you bent down to pee, necessitating a jog to your friend’s house to borrow a flashlight. (As happened to me, recently) I grabbed the flashlight, told him to call me in ten minutes, and ran back to comb the grass, cacti and coyote pellets in the dark. Amidst the scanning and combing, I encountered a skunk. She backed away, slowly, as did I, just as I heard the faint melody of my phone ringing. There it was lost in the grass. I looked up at the sky to say thanks in time to see a falling star.
I moved here eleven years ago after reading about The Desert Mothers and Fathers - men and women who left the urban environments of Alexandria and went into the desert, seeking stillness, silence and solitude. They went to “live in vulnerable communion” with their God, their sisters and brothers, and the desert. Mary Earl writes about them: “In stark contrast to the continuous indulgence of gluttony that is our cultural norm, the desert mothers remind us of the virtues of fasting, not only from food but from frenetic activity, from anger, from hurtful speech, from arrogant and mean-spirited behaviour.”
The poet Rilke also reminds me why I’m here: “You are not surprised at the force of the storm - you have seen it growing….Now you must go out into your heart as onto a vast plain….the sky remains. It is what you have.” He reminds me that urbane witticisms fall short when trying to truthfully bear witness to the world.
Yesterday I hiked The Butte to catch the crocuses in bloom before they fade. Witnessing their delicate mauve petals opening to catch the sun is the real breaking news, what I call the Slow-breaking News from the Subtle World. At a recent storytelling event, I played a newscaster delivering Slow-Breaking News Subtle news that is deeply personal and local and real and relevant to our immediate lives.
Truthfully, what is most important to you? It’s easy enough to discern. What’s the first thing you talk about when you meet with a friend? The weather. What crops need planting or equipment needs fixing? Where are your grandkids playing, and in what tournament? What you’re making for supper? Who just went into the hospital? Who’s moving? Who branding? A recipe or culinary discovery like Robin Kerr’s homemade salsa, for sale at the local store.
Don’t let the newscasters on your computer decide what Reality is for you, don’t let them rob you of the Real News happening right here, all around you.