Maybe it’s the mild jetlag, but having recently returned from a trip that included roughly 54 km of up-and-downhill hiking plus days of city-wandering (for a total of 302,179 steps over 12 days according to FitBit), I find myself energized and motivated. About six months ago I spontaneously booked a hiking trip in Patagonia. Starting in Santiago, Chile and ending in Buenos Aires, Argentine, the guided tour was organized around the “W Hike” in Chilean Patagonia.

1.Puerto Natales

Patagonia is the windy southern region of South America split between Chile and Argentina. According to our local guide, Magellan’s first encounter with the indigenous Tehuelche upon reaching the far southern reaches of the Americas was a set of oversized footprints in the snow. Created by the thick guanaco hides that the Tehuelche used to protect their feet in winter, these footprints led Magellan to identify the residents of the region as a race of giants and to name them Patagones from the Portuguese for “Big Feet.” English travel writer Bruce Chatwin was drawn to a remote and barren Patagonia in the 1970s by its frontier mystique and legendary qualities. Chatwin’s In Patagonia is a travel account told through stories; an homage to a foreigner’s idea of a land of legend and myth, populated by dinosaurs, giants and outlaws. Now Patagonia attracts busloads of Gortex and Patagonia-brand fleece-clad tourists seeking novel terrains.

2. Catamaran to Paine Grande

Named for the shape it traces through Torres del Paine National Park, the W Hike is one of the most popular multi-day hiking trips in Patagonia. The traditional W includes four legs to three points: Grey Glacier, French Valley and Mirador del Torres. My tour did an abridged version of the W, hitting the three main sights but skipping the Las Cuernos campsite and the long leg along Lago Nordenskjöld. Our guide assured us that this was the “boring part,” although the company website cites limited space and uncomfortable terrain at Los Cuernos.

3. Grey Glacier hike

Our first campsite, Paine Grande, was nestled in grey-green valley on Lago Pehoé. We arrived by catamaran and shortly after began the first hike to the Grey Glacier lookout point. This was our first introduction to Patagonian wind. My toque nearly blew off and we had to brace ourselves in order to frame the obligatory lookout photos, but apparently it was nothing more than a “Patagonian breeze.” The next day we experienced a middling “Patagonian wind” in French Valley, which was enough to nearly knock me off my feet but not enough to qualify as “wind plus” on our guide’s scale of wind velocity.

4. French Valley hikeThe French Valley hike was approximately nine hours. The destination was an exposed ridge that was still overwhelmed by the surrounding mountains and overhanging glacier, despite being reached by a path that went up and up, over twisty exposed tree roots and red dirt and loose boulders. I returned with very sore toes but no blisters.

5. CaracaraThe third day we skipped the long hike, taking the catamaran back over Lago Pehoé, stopping for a short hike to Lago Nordenskjöld, and then carrying on by bus to camping Las Torres. Located on private land, this campsite featured yellow geodesic dome dining halls and thick foam mattresses resembling the blue gymnastic mats from elementary school gym class.

6. TreeThe grand finale of the W is Mirador las Torres – all uphill, finishing with a long, exposed scramble over moraine. We were treated to a shockingly windless day. Finally, we get to the base of the iconic Towers. Three distinctively narrow, vertical peaks recognizable from any Google Image search for “Patagonia,” the Towers peeked at us from different angles as we approached them until fully revealing themselves as we came around the final heap of gravel and rock to the shores of the Patagonian-aqua lagoon that sits in the bowl at their base.

8. a glimps of the Towers

9. Mirador los Torres

Although Patagonia is as far away from anywhere I’ve been, I often found the landscape familiar. While my ignorant, city-dwelling eyes miss many differences in flora and geological formation, Patagonia’s scrubby flat grasslands, interrupted by dramatic young rocky mountains carved by icefields and glaciers, did not seem all that different from Alberta’s own mountains and plains. In this context, the distinctively pointed domes of Las Torres are strikingly, and enticingly, other.

The ten day “Patagonia Trekking” tour was a new type of travel experience for me. It was my first time on a group tour, rather than travelling solo or with family, and my first trip to the Southern Hemisphere – or outside of my European and North American comfort zone at all. I am not an experienced hiker or camper. I swapped the discomforts of backpackers’ hostels for the discomforts of camping and the rewards of art museums and restaurants for the rewards of panoramic mountain views and hard physical exertion. (Well, there actually were some art museums and plenty of restaurants too…)

My travelling self is, in many ways, one of my best selves. Getting out of my daily habits gets me out of mental ruts and helps me view my daily self and life from a different perspective. As much as I am a creature who craves structure and organization, life does seem to offer more possibility when it is not divided into repeating segments of 9 – 5 and Monday to Friday. This effect was evident for me on this trip, which was so full of new experiences and challenges.

10. leaving Chilean Patagonia

Travel alters one’s relationship to time, place and other people, instilling openness, humility and motivation. The version of myself that travels is self-reliant and empowered, but more open to life. It’s amazing what you can do in a day when you have only two days to wring as much experience out of a place as possible. Being unable to fluently speak the surrounding language or social norms fosters an unselfconscious humility, making it easier to ask for help, or bumble through an unfamiliar experience or space without embarrassment. Connections are formed more quickly with fellow travellers than with acquaintances made in daily life. I am even more willing to chat with cab drivers. I get up earlier in the morning. (Admittedly that is as much to do with free hotel breakfasts before 10 AM and uncomfortable beds it is to do with refreshed motivation.)

I like resolutions. Tying an intention to a ritualized, significant moment – whether New Year’s Eve, a new month or a new payday – gives a tidiness to personal growth that I find reassuring. A trip can function well in this regard – a period of time taken out of the ordinary, punctuating regular life and providing perspective and motivation. I come home from travelling full of resolutions: to get up earlier, write or create regularly and to maintain a better work-life balance. Daily life has a way of eroding motivation and openness, but I hope to maintain my refreshed, post-trip attitude for as long as I can – hopefully as long as it will take to rebuild my savings account for the next one!


IMG_20180718_115103_621Elisabeth Hill is an Edmonton-based writer and researcher who currently works as a Programming and Engagement Coordinator at the Art Gallery of Alberta.

This article was written by blogger, Maddie Laberge, of The Wicked Step-Mom.

What the hell does Hygge (pronounced Hue-gah) mean?

First, let me ask you 5 quick questions to make sure Hygge is a good fit for you:

  1. Are you emotionally burnt out? (You’re on my last nerve, kid!)
  2. Does it seem that no matter how hard you try to keep your house clean, the dishes, laundry, and chores just never seem to get under control!! (Fold your own fucking laundry!)
  3. Are you having a small problem transitioning from the long bright summer days to the 4:30 p.m. sunset? (I go to work in the dark, I drive home in the dark. Does the sun still rise every day?)
  4. You were so jazzed about your big salads and smoothies all spring and summer, but now the cold leafy greens and frigid drinks aren’t cutting it. (Where can I get a hot cup of java around here, yo?)
  5. Can you relate to this: “It is not your body or your mind that is ailing. It is your soul that is in need of healing.”

Have you had enough busy, mindless days pass you by? Yeah? Me too.

Hygge is a Danish word that describes a genuine mood or a feeling. It is choosing not to be distracted. In a nutshell, it’s waking up with new eyes to see simplicity as both cozy and meaningful: being conscious of the present moment and shaping it into an art. You can live your life creating soul-satisfying rituals!  Tell me, who can’t use a little soul nurturing now and then?

So let’s cut to it and give you 5 easy ways to create some magic:

  1. Do you have your own space? A cozy chair? A place where you like to sit and read or watch a movie? Even just the corner on your couch would work! Warm it up with a beautiful soft throw blanket. (Cost of blanket $20-30 IKEA)

Here’s my dog Quinn keeping my chair warm for me. Snuggle in with your favourite pet or partner and just bask in the moment of love!

cozythrowblanket
Don’t let that face fool you, she’s a spoiled brat.
  1. Bundle up and take a walk! Nature’s anti-depressant! Get off your phone (and your ass), grab your camera and take some pictures of nature! Be mindful of the smell in the air. Now is also a good time to take the advice of one of my kids: “Just think about what you want to think about, not what other people want you to think about.” Here’s a picture of me from a little solo adventure to a ravine near my house. (Cost FREE!)

takeawalk

  1. Buy a book shelf. Put things you love on it. Don’t let it get cluttered. Then curl up in your cozy throw blanket and read a good book! Here’s a cross-section of what I read:

books

Diversify and read whatever you’re in the mood for! I usually choose something that makes me ponder my existence or something that makes me laugh; sometimes they are one in the same. (Cost of book shelf $35 IKEA, and books are cheap at second-hand stores.)

bookshelf

  1. Do you own a lamp? Fantastic! Start using it to create some ambiance in your home.

lighting

Note the box of tissues in the picture? Give yourself one night every month to watch a romantic movie and cry your eyes out. Ok, crying ain’t exactly what ‘hygge’ is all about, but being at peace is, and you know what crying can do? Release stress hormones! So have yourself a big ugly cry! I suggest classic tear-jerkers like ‘The Bridges of Madison County’, or ‘The Notebook’. Whatever works to release those tears with the intention of feeling refreshed afterwards! (Cost: FREE!)

  1. Last, but certainly not lease, soft luxurious flannel sheets to keep you warm at night!

flannelsheets

Climbing into a cozy bed, taking a deep breath and counting three things you’re grateful for will help lull you into a peaceful slumber. And get your stupid phone out of your room! (Cost of Flannel Sheets: $40 on sale in the summer.)

So the next time you feel your day is becoming hectic and stressful, think hygge! How will YOU create some hygge in your day today?


Maddie Laberge is the mastermind behind The Wicked Step-Mom – a 30-something year old woman who has been a Certified Holistic Nutritionist for nearly ten years (more recently a Certified Herbalist), and a full time step-mom for over three. So what does a woman who chased a career do once three kids get handed to her? She shifts gears and begins a new journey. Her blog is about life and how she gets through her days by holding on to the values of eating good food and living a simple life.

The ease by which we can get sucked into pessimism about humanity and the state of the world these days is startling. Not only do we have more and more continuing oppressions coming to light through the voice of the internet (see: growing vocalizations of white supremacists all over the world, violence against people of color, increased terrorism etc), but we also have pretty unique moments in history arising because of these circumstances – one example being the absolute freak show that is the American election where, frankly, there hasn’t been much hope since Bernie Sanders dropped out of the Democratic candidate race. (Although I heard just yesterday that his name is still going to be on the ballot at the Democratic National Convention – do I dare to dream?)

Part of the problem is how we receive our information: particularly through Facebook. A lot of people don’t realize that this particular social media platform operates based on complex algorithms designed to show you what you are most likely to click on. The more doom and gloom you are engaging with, the more you will find in your newsfeed. There isn’t really a way to get around this and stay informed, unless you want to take the time to outsmart your Facebook account. This is my first tip for shifting over to optimism. A lot of people will simply disconnect or disengage from their social media accounts and that’s great if that’s what they really want to do – but for people like me, whose livelihood is connected to being a netizen and whose clients are managed under my general account, that’s not really an option. Every time I have tried to delete the Facebook app off my phone (even without deactivating my account), it takes less than half an hour for a client to message me asking me to post something. Contrary to appearances, I’m not sitting in front of my computer all day and even if I was, I can’t just connect to the internet through magical computer data, so I’m stuck with my phone and with Facebook burning an ever-growing hole of pessimism in my literal pocket.

hope and dreams

What to do then? You can start by liking positive stories or commenting on them. And no, I’m not just saying that because I’m a content developer and I want you to engage more with the barrage of things people post on the internet. This is not shameless self-advertising (even though it takes place on my business blog haha). Rather, liking positive stories is simply the quickest way to get more of them in your newsfeed – and, by extension, more positive people as well. Surrounding yourself with positive stories and positive people will start to shift the messages that are filtering into your brain every day.

Of course, I am not advocated shutting off completely. At. All. People absolutely have an ethical obligation to stay informed and educated about the issues we face in the world today and they absolutely must keep informed about political movements that will dramatically affect the countries in which they take place, and (in the case of America especially) every other damn country on the face of the earth. I am simply advocating for a little softness in the harshness that is the world, and to remember (or learn) that there really is more good than bad, or at the very least some good and a whole lot of neutral or irrelevant.

hopeful hearts

The other place that I have been finding solace lately will not come as a surprise to anyone that knows me is having faith. I was sitting in a grassy field with a new friend of mine the other night and she was talking about horrible atrocities against Muslim women who have come under the enslavement of various oppressors like ISIS. She was talking about how they had asked sheikhs for dispensation to commit suicide in the event that they will certainly face unspeakable and unending torture until they die. And she also mentioned how a sheikh she knew had gone from a hard-lined answer on this ruling to being unsure and simply stating that “he doesn’t know” if suicide is still forbidden to these unfortunate souls.

Regardless, when she was telling this story to me, she mentioned how this particular sheikh was different than other people – that he had a real kind of faith which, even if the face of hideous and cruel oppression, violence and death, still holds hope about the idea that justice will eventually be served by a Merciful God.

When she said that, I thought of my past self when I first converted to Islam, right up until the time I nearly died in a traumatic child birth in which I was repeatedly assaulted and had my rights violated. Until that time, I held out hope for justice no matter what the world was faced with – constant and persistent hope. Perhaps when I had faced true oppression from another still-unpunished person (and the profound disappointment in humanity that comes with that) and when the veil started lifting on just how much of it is out there, is when I started to operate in a pessimistic framework, I’m not sure. It certainly feels like I am always waffling between the two and some days are better than others.

My friend’s words in that field, however, reminded me what faith can do for people in terms of hope. Militant atheists are probably going to jump all over me for pushing my hope onto a transcendental entity, to which I would reply that hope for future justice need not be in a different metaphysical realm. It can mean hope for justice right here, right now, wrought by over hands – and, as a believing Muslim, that still comes from Allah for me even if it doesn’t for people who don’t believe. The type of justice that can be brought in this life, however, is often not enough and this is where I take comfort in my belief in a Merciful and Just God. One sheikh was talking about how, if Hitler hadn’t gotten away with suicide, and the court had had their way with him regarding the Holocaust, there is still no way to achieve a certain level of justice necessary to account for the six to eight million lives he extinguished (never mind those lost in the war he instigated). Only with Allah can we be certain that, for such an individual, it is possible to be awoken and killed six million times throughout the rest of eternity.

But having faith is not only about hoping that criminals get their due punishments (while, very often in this life, they go free). It is also about having faith that we can garner the strength and energy needed to bring mercy and justice to this life as well. At the Black Lives Matter rally downtown a few weeks ago, I met an amazing couple of sisters who I instantly connected with. In talking with one of them, I was discussing the prophetic hadith (sayings of the Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him) about the end of time and how many people claim (and have also claimed at other unstable times in history) that that time is now because some of the signs appear to be upon us. How, then, can we be certain that all of this is not in vain and that things just won’t get irrevocably worse as we move towards the Last Day? All of that (I should note) fits into warped terroristic worldviews as they seek to bring about the apocalypse with their apocalyptic atrocities.

One of the sisters, however, was quick to state that even though that prophecy will inevitably be true, it does not have to be now. Doom and total destruction is not necessarily on the horizon for us because we can simply choose to live justly, seeking justice and doing good deeds together. We don’t have to give in to the rhetoric of fear, division and pessimism and, as a result, we can work towards a more optimistic future. Sounds pretty damn hopeful to me and something simple enough to be empowering and therefore doable.

hopefulness

The other inspiring thing I have been up to is working on my thesis. And while, for many disenchanted grad students (I’ve been there!), that can seem like a pretty weird place to find hope for the future (aren’t we all supposed to be procrastinating and eating cheerios while watching Netflix in bed?), it’s actually not that surprising. When you follow your passions, you will certainly find hundreds, if not thousands or millions of people right there with you. And that kind of unspoken community is enough alone to give you hope. After writing a thesis outline the other day, I went through a list of authors whose works I need to compile to inform my theoretical framework. Somehow, writing this book list to get from the library made me positively giddy. I started to literally swoon at my desk just thinking about all of the brilliant ideas that I would find between the covers of these books – all the information and careful thought put into assembling it, all the delightful analysis and discussion that would take place, all the changes in my own patterns of thinking that would take place, and that I would be bearing witness to all the time people had spent developing discourse on philosophical or historical ideas instead of time spent killing and oppressing each other. It was a sober reminder that there are libraries full of books, full of information, full of art, full of poetry, full of life and when we choose to engage with it, we come alive again too.

As of late, I have also been going back to nature to get recharged and renewed. That is not to say that we are somehow separate from nature, nor are we actually going back to it just by sitting in a forest instead of a city somewhere. Nature is not only all around us, it is us. “Going back to nature” is as simply as eating mindfully: chewing your food slowly and really seeing, smelling and tasting it. “Going back to nature” can happen in a concrete jungle simply by watching the ants move, or watching the wind whisper through the grass of your suburban lawn. Constructed nature tamed by humans is still nature and frankly, if you are always waiting for that trip to the mountains to slow down, recharge and marvel in the incredible and insane miracle of life, you’re probably going to fall into despair a lot faster than you need to.

Don’t lose hold of the mundane and sublime absurdity that is this life – the fact that we are water-based beings in hairy sacks of skin, occupying a blue and green planet in space and when we put the stuff that grows on this planet into our mouths, we somehow extract energy contained in it from a burning star to continue living for years. This place is pure magic and totally insane. In the relentless agony that is human politics, it can be very easy to forget that fact which is too bad because it certainly makes all that nasty human crap melt away pretty fast, doesn’t it?

What are your strategies for remaining hopeful?

This article was written by Rachael Heffernan, writer and researcher with The Drawing Board.

 

If you’re feeling like you don’t spend enough time on your creative self, and you’re getting tired of the same-old-same-old dinner and a movie, you may be a perfect candidate for Sits.

Sits, you say?

Yes, Sits.

Sits began (as far as I know) in my partner’s family. Because they all live far apart during the year, in the last few days of summer they have a ritual they’ve dubbed Sits. They each spend some time scouting out the best places around the property, and then, in one glorious day, grab a couple of bottles of wine and some folding chairs and trek their way to each spot. They sit, they drink, they chat, and they admire the beauty that can only be found in The Middle of Nowhere, Ontario. It’s a beautiful tradition all about spending time in undiscovered places with people you love.

The idea of Edmonton Sits came out of this ritual with a couple of little twists to make it more appropriate for city life, and, as a bonus, orient it towards accomplishing the dreams of two author-wannabes. Here’s how it works:

  1. You and your posse of creative minds go out on the town armed with good pens, notebooks, and no more than one book each for inspiration. You may trade books with one another as the night goes on.
  2. Go to a place you’ve never been before. This can be in nature or can be somewhere indoor that has beverages and appetizers.
  3. Everyone orders drinks OR a timer is set  – and here’s the crutch of the game – you must write as much as you can for the duration of one drink, or leave before the timer runs out.
  4. Then you move on to the next location.
  5. Repeat steps 3 and 4 for as long as you please.

My partner and I went out and it was one of the best date nights we had had in a very long time. Getting to spend some time joyfully writing together and sharing our silly stories and poems was hugely refreshing. The unexpected side effect was that I felt it activated my creativity in a whole new way – armed with my notebook in my purse, for the next few nights we went out I ended up furiously scribbling poetry amongst the baskets of french fries and pints of beer on the table.


Here are some of my favourite poems from our adventures:

BEER

Lemon half moon

Bubbly balloons

Sittin’ under Edmonton skies

Burdened down I ain’t

Pickin’ at the paint

Not knowin’ when I’m gonna die


HEIGHTS

My nephew toddled softly

He would adamantly walk

And stoop and stop and bend and stretch

And talk and talk and talk.

He’d pick the little clovers

And stare down at the grass

He’d grab pink rocks and stash them

He’d point out bits of glass

And I’d walk and stop and hurry

I’d take him by the hand

All I could see were stop signs

While his eyes were on the land.