Another East Vancouver dust-up.

I’ve got to admit it, as much as this may be a very unpopular sentiment in East Vancouver right now: my outrage-o-meter is pretty much all tapped out when it comes to the recent kerfuffle about the Waldorf Hotel and the announcement that Solterra Developments wants to put some kind of project (condos, hotels, bars?) along Hastings Street.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, I hope the Waldorf can be saved through some creative architecture, and that the City is looking at ways to provide financial incentive to see that happen. Venues for artists are important, and the Waldorf has a history people feel attached to (though the current clientele can’t really testify to that since they kicked the long term sports bar and longshore drinkers out when the building was renovated three years ago) – on those counts it would be nice to see it get saved.

But I’m struggling with this becoming a fight about gentrification without a larger discussion about the future of housing in Vancouver, and I do think there needs to be more thought put into the discussion around what happens along the Hastings corridor as a whole.

Firstly, much has been made about gentrification and how the Waldorf is being impacted by that. But really! The current lease-holders of the Waldorf re-built the hotel knowing that the neighbourhood (from below Clark to Renfrew) is all potentially slated for mid and low-rise condominium development. There are condos going up at the old Canadian Tire site beside Gourmet Warehouse, not to mention the Millenium development across the street from the hotel; Penticton and Hastings saw a development four years ago and is about to experience another one with the London Drugs building coming down later this year. And up at Kaslo and Hastings is another three-story condo development going in with a credit union in the bottom, right next door to where the Pharmasave/condo development went in two years ago. (Those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head.) It was this future the Waldorf folks hoped to cash in on. They just didn’t expect the building they were leasing might become impacted as well.

If you know the neighbourhood, you will recognize that besides the Waldorf, these new condo developments are mostly replacing vacant lots, parking lots/auto dealerships, or single-rise storefronts that were all but falling into the ground. Basically, we are losing a lot of fallow space in exchange for more housing on transit corridors. That is – more housing suitable for the growing number of people who live alone, more housing close to work and that doesn’t require owning a vehicle, more housing overall.

But housing is an issue that people can’t seem to come to terms with in this city. While we know that we need more and cheaper housing, we aren’t sure what that means in practice.

One way to get cheaper housing is to increase the available stock. While I don’t know what the specific plan is for the Solterra development, I do know that condos built right on Hastings Street (a highway for all intents and purposes) are not generally of the high-end, luxury variety and a great number of them will eventually end up becoming rental stock (as happens in every condo building, low or high-end). Is it gentrification because these are condos? Would it be better if it was high-rent apartment building? Low-rent apartment buildings? What if some of the condos become low-rent units? What is the model of housing development that people would like to see beyond social housing?

We really do need a mix of housing models – condos, townhouses, socially-owned, co-ops, and private market….. And of course there is  the demand that a percentage of social housing units should be provided for in every condo development that goes up in this city.

But again, this isn’t about a community engaging around the future of the neighbourhood – this is about a community engaging around a single business that for all intents and purposes came into the neighbourhood with the hopes that it would gentrify. These are people who have the attitude that “there is nothing there” but the Waldorf – never mind the other businesses and the Native Friendship Center and the Longshore Union Hall and the live/work spaces down on Powell, and the quirky galleries and etc. Never mind the pre-reno Waldorf itself, which catered to people who actually lived and worked in the neighbourhood. And all that stuff I’ve heard in the past few days about how the Waldorf has “revitalized” that strip of Hastings? Where’s the proof of that exactly, beyond the destination of the Waldorf itself? The new commercial development going in on the Canadian Tire site has very little to do with the hipsters across the street  – the car lot next door is as skiddy as it ever was (in the last two years the owner has used his fence space for men’s rights banners detailing his child custody issues – not exactly an upscale approach to car sales).

So let’s go back to the beginning. I think there are creative ways to save the Waldorf, to have it planned into whatever is being developed in that corridor. Not only that, for the developers, it serves as a draw in selling units not to mention cut them a break on some City taxes. I would like to see the unique building that is the ‘dorf saved but I think all the facts need to be straight, and it needs to be recognized that there are various approaches to what we want (and really, the infantile comments on the Solterra development FB page? not getting you anywhere people.)

As someone who uses and travels through the Hastings corridor every day, I do not want to see it preserved as it is right now – a zone that  often feels unsafe due to lack of pedestrian traffic, where traffic whips through above the speed limit and there aren’t nearly enough pedestrian crossing lights. The paved over earth without a bench or a patch of grass, are signs of an old model of development in East Vancouver that I’m pretty sure we can move on from now.  But what do we want instead?

We want artistic venue space, and we want meeting/drinking/eating places, and we want housing. More of it. Cheaper. Closer to work and places to go. We need to remember that vibrant neighbourhoods have people living right in them, not traveling to them. We need to think about how vacant lots and car dealerships are crap uses of land when there still isn’t enough housing (affordable and otherwise). We need to put pressure on the city to demand a higher social tax from housing developers so that we get the mix and range of housing to meet the widest arc of need. We also want businesses that cater to the actual residents of neighbourhoods. We want space for community social services, libraries, recreation centers and parks. In short, we want it all, right?  And we want to engage in more than just a public temper tantrum. So I would encourage people who care about the *neighbourhood* to get engaged in letting the city know what you want beyond a single hotel in the middle of a concrete sea of parking lots…. because there’s got to be more than just that, right?

(There’s a whole other argument in here about the need for urban industrial space that I don’t really want to get into….. mostly because I don’t know the stats on declining industrial space and need, and I also know a lot of the warehouses in the Waldorf area are empty and/or under-utilized. Funny how everyone gets upset about the possibility of empty condos everywhere, but at the same time fights to preserve the crumbling architecture of empty apartments and warehouses.)

Yammy goodness (and eating almost clean)

yampictureIn 2011, for about ten months, I went on a lower-carb eating kick. Not no-carb, but I pretty much tossed out white grains, wheat flour, simple sugars and everything refined, chemicalized or non-naturally coloured. I kept all veggies, legumes, meat, and dairy in my diet – so it was by no means Atkins or Paleo – but it was a pretty big departure for someone who had previously been a carb-loving vegetarian.

And you know what? It really did make me feel better, and look better – not to mention helping me to manage my weight and blood sugar issues. Plus! Less digestive weirdness (another term for gas, really, I have a lot less gas when I get the simple carbs out of my life).

So, being the new year and all I’m at it again – this time inspired by some pretty awesome paleo food blogs (for the record I think the paleo “science” is anything but and I have zero pretensions around eating anything approximating a “primitive diet”). And after a week (during which I have eaten wheat exactly once, and no other grain product besides) I can already see that my stomach is less bloated and my digestion less crabby. I’m also finding myself inspired to cook again for the first time in awhile and I’ve been stocking up on good, healthy stuff to build easy meals out of – which is the trick for me when trying to get “convenience foods” like bread and crackers out of my diet.

In any case, I’m feeling all food-empowered at the moment and I just wanted to share this little recipe that I concocted for lunch (that was so good, it might be my new favourite lunchtime thing).

Yam and Sausage Hashy-hash Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

2 Italian Sausages (mild or medium)
2 yams – peeled and shredded
1 sweet potato – peeled and shredded
2 tablespoons worcestershire sauce
1 tsp onion powder
1 tsp garlic powder

Best cooked in a big frying pan or wok (I wok-fry everything possible). Squeeze the sausage out of its casing and brown in the wok, breaking it up into pieces. Once the sausage is all cooked and the bottom of the pan has some oil to work with, add the yam and sweet potato, worcestershire sauce and powders. Cook on medium heat, stirring frequently for 5-10 minutes until the mixture is to your liking. Salt and pepper to taste.

If you’re eating clean you can leave out the worcestershire sauce and add a bit of stock for liquid.

So simple and incredible! Inspired by the Sweet potato hash recipe on Nom Nom Paelo, which has some awesome recipes that I intend to get to trying over the next few weeks!

 

A life of our own.

Woah Nelly! I have been really sick the last two days. I mean not-getting-out-of-bed sick. Feverish snot factory over here!  And I’m not exactly better yet. Or at all. But I’m sitting up today and that’s some kind of  improvement (well, now I’m lying down again, but it’s on the couch not the bed, still a step forward right?)

Given a pretty strong constitution, getting sick is a once a year affair for me. Not that I get ill only one time, but most bugs pass without too much fuss, they almost go unnoticed. But every year between December and February I get a real thing. A thing which pins me down for a few days and makes me vow to wash my hands more obsessively in the future, or stop taking public transit because biking is germ-free. And that’s what I’ve got right now. That once a year nasty bug, and at just the wrong time because I’ve got work deadlines to meet and meetings that I HAVE TO BE AT.

Except that I don’t.

Because one thing I have learned in the last few years – is that nothing is more important than taking a time-out when I’m sick. I didn’t used to be this way. As I wrote on a friend’s blog this morning:

” I’ve been reflecting on this (external validation) since I’ve been really sick this week and remembering the last time I was this sick two years ago I forced myself through a bunch of speaking engagements in order to satisfy “commitments” I had made. Doing so made me much sicker (of course) and resulted in a sinus infection which has not gone away since. And did it result in more external validation? No! Of course not!”

Besides the fact that external validation isn’t much of a goal, the other thing I have come to realize is no one much notices what anyone else does. Yes, I might feel like the deadline on a document is a really big deal, but whether I make it or not will go  largely unnoticed by my boss. Even if he notices it in the short term because he needs to submit it to committee, by the time 3 weeks passes, he will have forgotten about the document and the deadline entirely. Lastly, even if he does notice and is ticked off about it, what am I to do? One person might be upset, another person might be understanding – but that is completely outside of my control – just as the illness is outside of my control. I can’t get rid of the fever which impedes my ability to think/work by snapping my fingers – just like I can’t control the reactions of others. Sure, I can have an influence on how my boss feels – keeping him updated and so forth – but even so his judgement is in his control, not mine.

In some ways that is the gift of illness – a realization that very little is in our control.

I’ve just got bronchitis, which isn’t much of anything in the grand scheme except a reminder of how dominated we are by our physical well-being – and a shadow of what chronic and debilitating illness could be like. We structure our lives and our society around wellness, but what happens when that physicality is taken away from us? Chronic illness or not, we all face aging which imposes the same constraints. But despite illness, infirmity, or age – we all want to live with a measure of contentment – which requires working within our limitations to craft a life that is our own. This is something achievable for all of us, if we give up on the external forces which tell us we must purchase, strive and gain status in order to be fulfilled.

And so I am here, on the couch for another day, realizing that all I can do it make a drug store run and then come back and lie down some more. And it doesn’t make me bad person because I can’t work. It doesn’t matter at all beyond the fact that I need rest to get better.

 

 

 

Quest for forty: Parsing the negative.

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Wow. Holidays, all done. Life back to normal with school and work and a quiet Monday-house to myself for the first time in weeks. Sadly, I am working today to make up a stat, but at least I can do it from here without having to wade through the gloom that is Vancouver monsoon season. Since I had cough-related insomnia last night, I happen to know that it did not stop raining hard for the entire overnight period – and it continues unabated.

I have been struggling with this cold for a week now, and while I am definitely moving through to improved health, it’s taking far too long for my liking. As per one of my new year’s eve ruminations and a book that I’ve been reading on modern Stoicism (A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy
by William Irvine), I’ve been attempting a Stoical approach to it all – which means actively engaging in “negative visualization” (imagine pneumonia! this isn’t so bad!) and contemplating gratitude. One of the major thrusts of Stoicism is to eliminate negative feelings in order to live with a kind of tranquility (not to be confused with inaction or even physical restfulness) – and so illness and adversity are to be fully experienced in order to embrace the times of respite, and be settled with what one has.

But it also encourages an investigation of negative feelings when they do arise. To note them and try to figure out where they arise from in order to show oneself how insignificant, or not controllable, their origin might be. Out of our control and we just have leave them alone as best as possible, recognizably insignificant and we might be able to laugh them off and discard them for good, in our control and we can make changes.

Yesterday, I worked this philosophy in a last-minute decision before the start of my new school semester. As I lay in bed in the morning I was reflecting on how everything I thought about the course I was enrolled in, I felt angry and resentful about it. I did not like the way it was structured (including group work portions and pass/fail assignments), I felt the readings were a big drag, and I was worried that the prof was a tad too disorganized for my liking – plus all the students in the course are a good fifteen years my junior*. Instead of addressing those in the last few weeks, however, I was pushing myself to continue into the course and feeling angry about it. On investigation, I had the sudden epiphany that I was not required to take the course and could simply switch out before the start of the semester (this had not occurred to me before). Additionally, I recognized that as a graduate student I have the right to question pedagogical methods (groupwork/pass-fail assignments) and put my academic energy into courses where I felt more confident about the program itself. So feeling angry and resentful were taking up a lot of mental space, when really what I needed to do was figure out where those feelings were coming from and what I could do.

But then I came downstairs, and as I vocalized my thought about switching into another course to B., I found myself getting very upset again. Instead of the angry/resentful feelings I had about taking the course, now I was having failure/regret feelings about dropping it. And specifically, the failure/regret feelings were rooted in how I feared my partner would see me – something that is mostly out of my control since we cannot dictate how others view our actions. For his part, B. was mystified by why I was upset about making this decision at all, which quickly helped me see how “silly” the negative emotions that had arisen were – based in unfounded conjecture.

All of which opened up the space in which I could go onto the SFU registration system, sign up for a different class entirely, and drop the one I had enrolled in. Yes. Simple, right? Especially because as I’ve been reading a little modern interpretation of ancient philosophy, it’s also brought me back into what I appreciate most about my program. And so I am taking a course about Scientific Revolutions and Human Values which promises much philosophy and no group work, and I have banished that set of negative feelings that has been nipping at me for the past few weeks (intensifying all the while).

This is not the first time in the last year or so that I have had the oh-so simple realization that as an adult, I do get to make decisions for myself. I get to choose supportive over critical friends, disregard the parental critique of my life and decisions, and engage only in the projects that inspire me rather than entering into organizations because I “ought to”. Of course once it dawns on me that it’s okay to act in my own interest, it’s a bit of a “yeah, duh” moment for me – but at the same time I’m curious as to why it’s only in the last couple of years that I’ve come to that realization. An ah-ha moment which is in many ways linked to the realization that who we are and what we do is just not very important to other people – and I mean that in the most positive sense, the liberation of the self from the gaze of others.

It’s a set of realizations I wish I had come to a lot sooner in life, but now that I’m here I am attempting to work with some coherent philosophy for myself. If we don’t live for other people’s expectations, then what do we live for? Which is the next installment on my quest to turning forty! I think I’m finally figuring that out too.

* No, there is nothing wrong with taking classes full of people much younger/less experienced in the world than myself, and I would gladly do so if the course were better organized. But I will say that I find it difficult to take a classroom of 22-25 year old *philosophy* students very seriously when I’ve been working with much older students for the past two years. What I’ve come to realize about my program is that it is a very special combination, and the age diversity is something I have come to value as I realize how much I do have to learn from the 70-year-old across the table from me, not to mention how the nature of reflection changes with the decades. Programs with more age-homogeneity do not offer this.

Aging – a little rant about being here rather than there.

Omigod.  I  had an exchange with someone on an unnamed social media network yesterday which ended with her telling me that because I am forty, there is no way I could possibly understand what being twenty-five right now could be like because it’s so hard to find a job that pays well and I have no idea! No idea people! (Because of course I’ve never been twenty-five, broke, looking for a job, going through a divorce and tens of thousands of dollars in debt. Not me.)

I mean, it’s one thing when your teenager says “you just don’t understand” – but really, this makes me feel old!

And why?  Because it reminded me so strongly,  so shockingly, of the hubris of twenty-five. As when my step-daughter intimates the same, I am viscerally reminded of fifteen and feeling trapped. It makes me feel old because I realize how far one travels between fifteen and twenty-five, twenty-five and (almost) forty. How we are not who we thought we were. How we are not who we thought we would become.

Which makes me glad. Ecstatic, really. That I am not trapped. At fifteen, or twenty-five. Or forty. That I will not only know myself right now, but there will be a new me, and a new path in the future. That the older I get, the more freely myself I become (even as I conversely feel more stuck in my job, or held fast to my mortgage).

HOWEVER (and there is always one of those) it also reminds me of all the similar things I have said to my elders over the years and which I have to stop saying because it always comes back to haunt us doesn’t it?

And so! It is good to remember we are never the person we are for more than the moment in which we are being that person and too quickly we are another person, one who knows more than we did a few minutes or years ago, and there is no person who looks back at fifteen or twenty-five or forty and thinks – oh yes, that was the year I knew it all. Because we never do. Though I do think it’s  always better to be here than there.

Enough said. Expect more ruminations on aging as the birthday nears, I’m indulging myself in age these days.