First Theory, Then Practice.

For a long time now, I've had the intention of pursuing the martial arts. I knew that I would have to wait until I was finished in my current sport (which I assumed would be after I played out my 5 years of CIS eligibility), but as it turns out, my stick is now officially hung up. If you've followed along for the last 8 or so month, you'd likely know that I'm taking a dedicated period of time and effort to heal from an injury. I decided that this would be the perfect time to educate myselfa bit and learn more about the disciplines so that I can chose a martial art whose philosophy is in harmony with my own. If my body won't be ready to train for another year or so, there is plenty I can do to begin cultivating the mind and heart space, which I think are worth as much (if not more) in developing a sense of warriorship. Now, when I say warrior, I don't mean someone who will take any opportunity to launch a physical attack on someone. By warrior, I mean someone who has the courage to look inward and face his/her fears. I mean someone for whom victory can only be achieved through a peaceful resolution. The philosophical path that best suits me is the art of Aikido - otherwise known as the The Art of Peace. I've been studying Aikido (through various texts) for only the last six months, but I feel that I have gained an entire (yet ongoing) education through just a few sentences and pages. In Aikido, the sense of self and other cannot be entirely separated, so to injure another is to harm yourself as well. Aikido finds the role of love and places it front and centre, as a means to overcome adversaries and self-doubt.


Little did I know, I would see my first challenge even prior to learning my physical principles. Let me explain:

This weekend, Manski and I were wandering around a very cool little neighbourhood in the city's South East end. We happened upon a lovely little groceteria. We had been there before and even purchased some stuff, but decided to stop in and snoop a bit. We noticed that - much to our chagrin - the store was sorely lacking in price tags on most of the merchandise. As we were leaving, I thought to let the staff know that we had a suggestion.

I apprached a young woman who appeared similar in age to myself. I prefaced my suggestion with praise about the beautiful products (imported, organic and some local) and display. She stared blankly at me and I knew right then and there, that I had possibly made a big mistake in approaching her. When I told her that I had a a suggestion, and even before I told her what that suggestion was, I was met with immediately defensive body language and an expression that almost seemed to say "how dare you imply that this shop could be any more perfect"! Uh oh.

I told her gently that the addition of price tags would be really helpful for people on budgets, those purchasing gifts and primarily because the issue of cost is one that I consider quite personal. I have no problem disclosing the price of something I've bought, but it's certainly not ideal to get to the cash register and discover(for instance) that you've picked up a $100 bottle of truffle oil. My suggestion was met with great hostility and my instinct was to let her know that even if she didn't value my feedback, that she owed me the courtesy of thanking me for wanting to help her improve her business. She insisted that everything was "fair market price", but on behalf of the huge proportion of the world who does not partake in the high end food market, I had to insist (politely) that fair market price is not something most of us can even guess! She also told me that, as the first person to ever complain about the price tags, this feedback was not necessarily valid. I sensed that things were getting inflammatory and I was actually scared that she was going to kick me out, because, believe it or not, this young woman turned out to be the owner!

Immediately, I touched her elbow and got her to tell me about the philosophy of the business and its story. Within 4-5 minutes, she had calmed down and was speaking with far less aggression and had become considerably less defensive. I just smiled and listened as carefully as I could to let her know that I wasn't there to pick a fight, only to offer my own contribution to her otherwise beautifully presented shop. This was definitely an instance of having to diffuse conflict with compassion. And I realized just how potent a sense of kindness and love toward someone who seems adversarial can be. I think that by re-establishing the dynamic, we can really put people at ease.

"The Art of Peace is the principle of nonresistance. Because it is nonresistant, it is victorious from the beginning. Those with evil intentions or contentious thoughts are vanquished. The Art of Peace is invincible because it contends with nothing."

"If your heart is large enough to envelope your adversaries, you can see right through their petty mindedness and avoid their attacks...""

Now, this woman could have been having a bad day, or just felt plain attacked. I think she was able to see, in the end, that it was never my intent to insult or belittle her. During the initial tension and right until I tried to change gears, I was trembling. I felt regretful about my decision to speak with her and I felt offended by her disdain for my feedback.

I bring this up, not so much to just talk about powerful we can be without our bodies. I'm so glad that rather than leaving upset, we were able to diffuse things. Now, I think I still have a long way to go before I can emanate or instinctively use this kind of approach in life, because I still left feeling somewhat put off and disappointed in how I was treated. I don't wish her any ill-will, but I don't think that I will return to her shop again. This speaks loudly to one of my personal and research priorities - the stratification of classes within food markets.

The food in this place was absolutely beautiful. Some of it was from just outside of Calgary, some was from as far as the oil regions of Liguria and Crete, but any lack of hospitality (for me) renders all of that food to simply "product" status. It's like being insulted by your dinner host. Would you want to keep eating dinner?

I really believe that (sadly) one of the consequences of these new and emerging food markets (high-end imports, organic and sometimes even local) is that they have created this segmentation among consumers.It happens quite infrequently, but once in a while, the coveted unifying power of food is rendered totally moot by its ability to create food snobbery. The grocery store check out can be a place of immense social tension and there are only very few members of specific class segments who can participate in those local/organic/expensive imports markets. What we end up with (in the case of local/organic) is not only the development of have and have not, but also responsible and irresponsible behaviour. But tell me, is it irresponsible to purchase less or lesser quality food, when your priority has to be paying the bills? I think that responsible choices are a matter of context, but as organic food gains momentum (and I'm glad for many reasons that it is), we have to acknowledge the very real consequences it has on creating situations in which food choices become the basis for judging others' contributions to socially responsible behaviour.

I realize that this was a really long post, but I feel very passionately that for all of us (not just those who can afford truffle oil and foie gras) that a basic sense of hospitality is absolutely essential to helping people feel comfortable entering food cultures of all sorts. As a final note, I want to add that as the sister of a chef, I can tell you that the greatest power of food is not in its nutritional value, its aesthetic or its market appeal, but in its ability to allow us all a sense of creative freedom, a feeling of genuine nourishment and sense of closeness with the cultural, regional and familial legacies that we are fortunate to be able to share.