At one of my presentations a law professor asked me if I thought the Ontario Review Board treated me fairly. I smiled at him and said the last time they dealt with me it was indeed fair; I was granted an Absolute Discharge in December. There was applause which made me feel that finally even strangers were in support or at least were happy my struggles had ended.

It did make me think. To answer the question better I would say “yes”. They have a job to do and a real balancing act. To protect the public but at the same time to offer conditions which are the least onerous to me, the accused. I think the public won out on a few Dispositions as I never considered myself a threat to public safety. I often pictured myself as stable and I certainly had no plans that weren’t peaceful. I simply wanted to get on with my life. I wanted to reconnect with my children, live independently, find meaningful occupation and maybe even love. The Ontario Review Board essentially prevented most of this for years but I don’t look at it as an injustice. I merely paid the price for others who may have been similar in diagnosis and circumstance who needed the law to conform to, or who had provided reason to be overseen. My duty now is to prove to society that the decision of the Ontario Review Board was correct. My pursuit of life was more important and significant than any risk I posed. At the same time I hope to provide positive statistics and precedence to others who are in similar circumstances. I hope that by thriving and living peacefully despite my past and diagnosis that someone else may be granted the benefit of the doubt. In reality I wasn’t granted an Absolute Discharge; I am still connected to my actions and my past. What I was granted was the benefit of the doubt. Without a doubt it feels incredible.

In my late teens and early twenties I worked for the Ministry of Natural Resources. I spent several of my seasons in Kapuskasing. I was mainly involved with fisheries and wildlife but I had some knowledge of forestry imparted on me. I was once told how they obtain pine cones from the trees in their propagation plantations. I never saw  it but they apparently had a machine that ran down the rows and cut into the trunks of the trees. The trees reacted to this injury as though they were dying. They immediately started the process of producing fruit (cones).

What do we make of the injuries we suffer from life?

I drove through a dust storm today. I can’t recall ever seeing one. It was less than a mile thick but it was quite dense. I somehow felt like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. My dog was in the back of the car. Would the Wicked Witch of the West appear and say “I’ll get you my pretty and your little dog too”? I made it through and returned to where I was earlier parked. I had dropped some family at an appointment and sat reading the paper. The car shook every so often with the stronger gusts and it felt as though I was not exactly stopped. The dog was sleeping as we sat alone in a graveled parking area. Every once in a while the car was pelted with grit. I thought about moving but I kept thinking about the people living in the dust storm and the person who was coming home to a large tree laying across their roof. There were worse places to be.

I went out to the mall yesterday to purchase a shirt. I haven’t been to a mall in well over a year. Things looked the same and I was lost as usual. Many of the stores were for fashion and I kept looking at the mannequins. They seemed more muscular and toned. For the first time I noticed the legs of the females mannequins had muscles and definition; in my memory they were shapely only. They looked great but I had to wonder if the change was a reflection of what is actually out there or is it the magazine ideal. Part of why the mannequins stood out was because they were displayed in groups. I have seen groups of women but I can’t recall ever seeing all of them with the same body type. There are individuals who could more colourfully take the place of the mannequins but I have seen and met more women with a body type that differs. I’m not sure why we advertise to the majority using the minority.

I came across an older gentleman weeding his front lawn. He seemed not overly impressed by the battle. I mentioned that the lawn looked like he was doing a good job. He said “well, you should see the backyard.” I laughed, “no one see’s that except you.” I wished him well and walked on.

Sometimes we take great care of what others see but neglect what is hidden.

I was at a hockey game and sat behind an older man and woman. The game was exciting and close and I was unaware of them for the most part. I was drawn deeper into the game than normal by my brother’s friend who was unafraid of vocalizing his excitement at close calls. The overtime goal was one that seemed to involve a little more individual effort than some. When the puck hit the back of the net I sprang to my feet and screamed and clapped. The couple in front of me embraced in a kiss.

It is sometimes easier to love in victory than defeat. There were fans not far behind us who made themselves known when our opponents scored. I wasn’t looking that way as “we” scored but I doubt if any of them embraced in a kiss.

One of the previous tenants who lived below me was named Grace. We were familiar but not to the extent where we became involved in each others lives. I was living on my own in the community for the first time since being released from the Forensic hospital. I’m not sure about the majority of Forensic clients but I had few friends and was somewhat isolated. This old house has no soundproofing other than what the wood floors muffle. I could hear Grace’s phone and her voice but no words. I could hear when she left the apartment or entered but I often didn’t know which. I could hear her on many occasions coming into the house around 11 pm. I would usually be in bed as I liked to get an early start in my dance with sleep. I wasn’t always conscious of it but when she came through the front door it was like a blast of air as she entered my vacuum.

I have no idea where Grace lives these days but I assume she is amongst us. We often have a presence in a person’s life that may be slight but can still be important.

I was at a hockey game the other night. I love being one among thousands who I at least share a passion for my city and its namesake hockey team. We are proud of our team and many wear at least their colours. We all share in their goals and victories but also in their pain and penalties. We can see the justification for their celebrations and reason in their injustices. When we leave the arena in either victory or loss we return to our lives.

What team do we support in our lives? When we have no jerseys to determine our allegiance who do we side with? Do we side with our kind or do we draw lines in our lives like those on the ice? Is our allegiance to a country, a flag, or do we draw lines behind even these? Is our allegiance to a city, or a neighbourhood? Is our allegiance to our family, to ourselves or to something greater than any of these? If we can share in the victories and losses of any of these is it not possible to share in all of these?

If you believe you are only a body, you must then agree that your entire life, everything you know and have experienced is only the result of electricity and chemicals. If what I know and feel, the love I have known and the pain I am learning from is somehow only chemical and electrical I will accept it but I can only look at it reasonably as a complicated gift.

I’m uncertain enough of the universe to acknowledge that I am unlikely the center of it. Where do I look to acknowledge the gift of the love I have known and the pain I am learning from?

If there are instances where it seemed an event unlikely to happen somehow did, you could cock your ear to the Universe and ask if someone said “Hello”.