A Spirit of Celebration

After the recent legalization of same sex marriage in New York, I asked my father (a paediatrician and counsellor) about his thoughts on young people "coming out of the closet" today. His answer completely took me by surprise.

"Well," my dad said. "I don't think we should view this as having to 'come to terms' with something. They should celebrate this part of themselves and be proud of who they are. Why waste your life living with a sense of shame?"

My father deserves a lot of credit for this embracing attitude. He grew up in a poor, rural town in 1960s India, an extremely homophobic environment (in fact, homosexuality was only "decriminalized" in India last year). Although he initially shared this homophobic attitude, his views quickly liberalized upon coming to Canada. Our neighbours are a lesbian couple lovingly raising three bubbly children. They are generous, friendly and always willing to lend a helping hand. Meeting them and their beautiful family is probably enough to change almost anyone's views.

My dad's surprising answer also made me completely rethink the way our society frames its attitudes toward gays. We're told that it's important to be "tolerant", but that term seems to carry an inherently negative connotation. After all, I "tolerate" Hamilton's long winters and the unpleasant smell from my compost. But I don't just "tolerate" the diversity of cultures and people in Canada. Instead, I celebrate them for their unique and positive contributions to our society. In the same way, we need to inject a new spirit of celebration into our attitudes toward gays and lesbians.

And there's much to celebrate. Many of the greatest poets, authors, and intellectuals in Western history have been gay, such as Sappho, Leonardo da Vinci, Michaelangelo and Virginia Woolf. Not to mention countless contemporary figures like Elton John and Ellen Degeneres. This is no coincidence. At a young age, gay men and women are forced to undergo a profound process of internal questioning and exploration. Their unique formative experiences can devolve into anger and shame, or conversely blossom into a deeper appreciation of the human condition. They may also inspire great artistic expression, such as the timeless writings of British author E.M. Forster.

What's more, gay men are ubiquitous in the art industry and in the design rooms of fashion powerhouses such as Prada, Gucci and Louis Vuitton. They have historically faced a great deal of ridicule and harassment due to the stereotypical notion that their effeminate behaviour makes them "weak" or less worthwhile. And yet there they are: creating, designing and inventing. They deserve to be celebrated for their unique contributions and talents, and for being courageous enough to simply be themselves in the face of society's rigid gender roles.

But of course, not all gay people are in fashion. They are also our doctors, lawyers and teachers; our family members and friends. They've always been an integral part of our society, but only now are we finally beginning to allow them to live and love as they please. And yet we have further to go. We must, as individuals and as a society, move beyond mere tolerance and into a spirit of celebration.

My (Brief) Life as a Shopping Addict

Reflecting back on my time in university, I've realized that one of my greatest vices was impulsively buying expensive gadgets that I really didn't need and then regretting it later. Pressing the "Order now" button online never failed to give me a temporary burst of excitement and pleasure. It was worst during my toughest weeks at school, when "retail therapy" served as a potent coping method.

Back in September, my final and toughest year at McMaster began. Besides dealing with a full courseload and graduate applications, I also had to manage my household and aging dog after my parents left for a month-long trip to India. Once my stress levels peaked, I found myself roaming the Internet for cutting-edge gadgets, and my search eventually ended up with the iPhone 4. I found it enjoyable to imagine that I would someday buy it, and spent hours reading and watching product reviews. Then one day, as I was passing by Future Shop, I stopped, walked in and bought the phone. Somehow my many hours on Apple.com had convinced me that I really needed it. 

Within 3 weeks I bought a second laptop on eBay, a Kindle, wireless laser printer, fancy computer speakers and later an iPad 2. The pattern was always the same: research for a few weeks, make the purchase, enjoy the fleeting pleasure and then find something else to buy. As a result, I was left with a lot of expensive stuff that I simply didn’t need. Instead of feeling happier with my new gadgets, wasting that money stressed me out and I felt constantly pressured to actually use them. The iPhone contract virtually turned me into a bonded labourer, since I was forced to pay $70 to Telus to chat on the phone for 10 to 15 minutes a month. I already had a landline at home which fully sufficed.

Then, to my horror, I lost my iPhone in mid-February and my turnaround began. When I realized that I would never get it back, I felt a tremendous sense of loss. Considering the $650 retail price, that phone represented about 50 solid hours of work for me. I had guarded it like a baby for months, even setting up a system whereby I could track it by satellite in case of a loss (in this case, the phone ended up in an apartment building in East Hamilton, not specific enough for me to be able to recover it). I started asking myself tough questions: Why was this phone so important to me and what value had it added to my life? And what about the second laptop, the Kindle and the iPad 2? Did they improve my life?

For the most part, the answer was “No.” I sold most of my gadgets on Kijiji and recouped some of my money. I then decided to embark on an experiment and live as simply as possible. Instead of stimulating myself with computer games, relentless YouTube and TV, I turned to books and the company of others as my main diversion. I sought to slow my life down by enjoying quiet moments and long walks every day (and not frenetically texting at the same time). After a painful few weeks of withdrawal from constant stimulation, I found that my brain adjusted to a lower level of excitement.

After simplifying my life, I've started to feel significantly healthier and happier. In the face of so many external diversions, it's easy to forget that each one of us has the internal resources to feel contented. It's important to nurture this internal happiness because it can sustain you even when those external stimulants have been taken away. Perhaps pursuing simplicity as a model for life is not for everyone, but as someone who is prone to anxiety, it has been invaluable to my personal sense of well-being. At the same time, I won't be giving up my gadgets all together. I think that if a certain product enhances your ability to be efficient or accomplish your goals, it's probably worth buying. I've come to love my Kindle, because it's opened up a new world of free, classic books to me. And yet I won't be buying the iPhone 5, because it'll just be an expensive ball-and-chain around my ankle.