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Prior to leaving on my Road to Compassion journey, over the span of about two years, I had maintained what I consider to be a very healthy diet.  My diet had been largely made up of vegetables, protein, and healthy fats and oils.  It was extremely rare for me to have sugar of any kind (stevia was my sweetener); I ate only whole grains-mainly quinoa; and I kept mostly to herbs teas and water for drinking.  I was pretty keen on maximizing my health and vitality, but the fact that I was able to keep such a diet was mostly because I wasn't doing it alone; Melody and I were in it together.  Well, I'm on the road now, I'm on my own now, and my diet has been hanging out with some conspicuous characters lurking in the kitchens, cafes, and grocery stores on my Rebound to Compassion. 

Not surprisingly, leaving my relationship with Melody and heading out on my own has coincided with a less disciplined and less conscious relationship to food.  With promises to fill my heart's desires, breads and baked goods, less healthy fats, dairy, and sugar are welcoming me home and romancing me with sweet, comforting whispers in my belly.  Where I had not long ago been able to stare down these seductive temptresses, I now find myself saying yes and drowning out the wiser voice in my body. 

The Dunster Ice Cream Social

My Road to Carbohydrates rose to new heights at the Dunster Ice Cream Social.  (Dunster is about twenty minutes east of McBride in the Robson Valley.)  I thought about not going, about respecting the needs of my body, but that thought was soon doused in a creamy tsunami of fresh-baked justifications: 
1. I have never heard of an ice cream social so I have to go and find out what it is all about. 
2. What a wonderful opportunity to connect with the Robson Valley community. 
3. A little ice cream never hurt anyone. 
4. Perhaps I could go just to socialize and not eat any ice cream (yeah, right).
5. I need to learn how to cut loose.
6. Mom would be happy if I gained some weight.
7. I should let myself indulge.  Elizabeth Gilbert let herself indulge.
8. This might be my one and only opportunity to go to an ice cream social.
9. Everyone else is going.
10. The sky is blue, and the river doesn't flow in a straight line.

With no where to run to, my stomach, liver and intestines huddled together, braced themselves, and did what they could to reinforce their defences and rally the digestive juices.  Little did they know what they would be up against.

It turns out that the Ice Cream Social is a fundraiser for the Dunster Community Hall, and there is more to the Social than just ice cream.  Much, much more.  The Dunster Community Hall fundraising committee has hit upon a simple but ingenious fundraising strategy that plays into two of our strongest desires: sugar with fat and sugar with flour.  For only eight dollars you can eat not only all the ice cream your body can handle, but all the cakes, custards, cookies, brownies, dessert pizza, chocolate muffins with custard-cream centers, berry crumbles, apple, pumpkin, cherry, bumble berry, and cream pies, date squares, puff pastries, and more that your stomach acids can negotiate!*#?!  It is a sight to behold, not just the desserts themselves, but the sugar, carbohydrate and fat laden plates that more than willing community members and visitors hunker down with and shovel into.  

Two long, slow-moving lines filed into each side of the Dunster hall.  These lines were sustained for a good couple of hours as people, myself included, herded through the lines a second time to gorge on even more desserts.  When it was time for the post gorge-fest dance (more like wabble at that point) there were still desserts left.   Some communities have a Ho Down.  Dunster has a Mow Down, Ho Down, Can You Hold It All Down!  And so it was that I completed the first quadruple toe loop off of the healthy-diet wagon, sticking my landing head first into a buffet of sugary decadence.

I went to the Dunster Ice Cream Social with my new Kakwa Eco-Village friends: Russ - the founder and overseer of Kakwa, Randy - a visiting supporting member, and Masato - a visiting Japanese woofer.  I stayed at the Kakwa Eco Village for about eight days.  The village is on 540 acres of land that is shaped like a thumb.  Much of the land is bordered by the Fraser River.  I would have liked to have participated more in the community life as well take in a few local hikes, but most of my time was used to catch up on work.  I did however manage to get in on some Alpaca sheering.

Alpaca Sheering

Alpaca sheering requires an intrepid team of highly focussed daredevils who have bulging biceps and genes saturated with generations of Alpaca ranching.  We decided to go for it anyway.  The first step was to round up the Alpacas and herd them up to the Alpaca corral.  Masato took the front and led the way from the pasture by the river up to the sheering area by the main house, tempting the Alpacas to follow with a wheel barrow full of Alpaca treats(I can't remember what the treats were, probably some kind of plant that they really like, or maybe some delicious Scooby Snacks).   Russ, Randy and I herded the Alpacas from behind and from the sides.  There were a few sneaky ones that tried to run for it, but we danced around them with lightening, middle-aged quickness.  Once a few Alpacas started moving forward, almost all of them followed Masato up the path and into the corral.  The next step in our sheering adventure involved walking through the herd, picking out the furriest suspect, sidling up to him as if just wanting to fix his hair, and then lunging in for a head lock.  Once an Alpaca was in a head lock (unfortunately for the Aplacas, their extra long necks make for easy headlocks), another team member secured a muzzle over its head and led it over to the sheering station.  Surprisingly, the Alpacas didn't seem to want to go to the sheering station (you'd think they would be happy to get rid of their full-body afros in the heat of the summer, but maybe their hair was an important "Screw the Man" statement for them), and so some sweet talking or brute force was needed.  At the sheering area the Alpaca is "helped" onto the ground and laid on its side. 

Alpaca sheering requires a degree of physical exertion and mental focus, and so it is better to do it during the cooler part of a day.  We had waited until the late afternoon to begin, but it was a muggy day and we were sweating by the time the first Alpaca was strapped to the ground.  Randy and I needed both hands to hold the Alpacas in place, Russ needed both hands to sheer, and Masato needed both hands to gather the wool.  No free hands meant a Kakwa Human Blood Social for the Robson Valley mosquito community.  Word got out and soon there were mosquito line-ups.  With sweat dripping from his brow, Randy cheered us up by sharing that he had heard that it's good for one's immune system to have many mosquito bites all at once.

Half way through our third Alpaca, with clouds thickening and thunder reverberating, Russ's clippers came undone.  Russ made several attempts to get the clippers together but eventually had to go inside to get another out-of-commission pair of clippers to use for parts.  While he was gone to get the other pair, a corralled Alpaca broke free and came over to the sheering area.  He was not happy to find his buddy strapped to the ground and started charging at us.  Randy and I couldn't do much as we had to keep the half-sheered Alpaca on the ground, so it was left to Masato to repel the attacker.  Our half-sheered Alpaca, inspired by the courageous efforts of his would-be saviour, suddenly surged up with a mighty attempt to get up and free himself.  Fortunately, Randy acted quickly and pinned the Alpaca back down to the ground wrestler style with all of his 6'4", 200 pound frame.  The scene could have been only improved upon had Randy been clad in spandex shorts, knee-high laced boots, and head band.  Russ came back and scared the attacking Alpaca off by threatening to sheer him with a mullet hairdo.  Finally, Russ got his clippers working again and we finished sheering as the first rain drops began to fall. 

I left Kakwa Eco Village with a brand new pair of Alpaca wool socks, grateful to have spent time in community with new friends, and very grateful to Russ for doing all he could to help me feel welcome, comfortable, and supported during my time at Kakwa.  Russ is a natural networker and a mover and shaker in the greater Robson Valley community.  The promotion for my upcoming Prince George workshop had fallen behind, partly due to the fact that I had not kept up with things and partly due to the fact that the person I had found to organize the workshop had unexpectedly left Prince George.  After hearing about the trials and vicissitudes of workshop organization and promotion, Russ stepped in to help me with a late flurry of promotion and networking. 

The Road to Inner Compassion

My Road to Inner Compassion continues to unfold.  I continue to find time here and there to go inside and see what's there, to fully practice what I have many time encouraged others to do:  Source needs inside and be fully present with the feelings that are connected to those needs.  Sometimes this is easier to teach than to practice, but I am enjoying it more and more.  From my inward focus on needs, there can be a deep sense of peace, or gratitude, or a release of emotion that takes me by surprise.  I love surprises and dive into the current of feeling as much as I can.  I savour the soaking and come to the surface with renewed aliveness.  My picture of "coming alive" used to be one focussed on joy and inspiration.  Now the focus is broadening and deepening.  I still see the joy and inspiration, but I also experience the "coming alive" sprouting from a complete surrender to what is deepest inside me, even if it is something I might call sadness or pain: Spiritual compost formed out of rotting psychological leftovers broken down by the warm embrace of presence and the energy of emotion.

I'm aware that my blog posts are longer than can easily fit into some of your full lives, lives already overflowing with things to read.  Thank you for taking the time to read what you can.  One of the things I treasure most is meaningful dialogue.  By meaningful I mean that which brings us closer.  Imagining all of you in all of your lives receiving this, imagining you imagining me as you read, brings me closer.  Closer to what?  That is one of my favourite questions.

More Gratitude for More Blessings

Thank you to Lynx, the cat who is right now snuggling on my belling and snoring into the crook of my elbow as I write, Mm, Mmmm, love it. 
Thank you to Ginette for organizing my Jasper workshop and for letting me use her office to get caught up on work.
Thank you to Kim, Catherine and friends for bringing me along on some Inspiring Japser hikes even though I was embarrassingly late.
Thank you Goji for all your efforts to organize and promote my Prince George Workshop.
Thank you to John and Bonita for putting me up and feeding me sushi with John's freshly caught salmon (I think it was a Chinook) among other fine cuisine while I was in Prince George.
Thank you to Poly and Freya, two gorgeous Great Pyrenyse dogs, for your affection and protection.
Thank you to Tamara for organizing my Smithers workshop and for having the courage to give me some honest feedback.
Thank you Anaiis for welcoming me into your home before you were even there and for introducing me to some of the Telkwa and Smithers  community.  And thank you for a place to stay in Hazelton and for the brownies with whipped cream.
Thank you to Christy for a delightful hike up to Crater Lake.
Thank you Rheta for the stuffed monkey.  He's still waiting for his name.
Thank you Dev for the hand-carved walking stick and chai tea.
Thank you Rodger for the photos and truffles.
Thank you very much to all who send me words of connection and encouragement.
Thank you to all that I have forgotten to thank.
Thank you pillow.

Eric Bowers

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