Abandonment

ATTITUDES AND OUTCOMES

As I sit back on my cozy corduroy chesterfield, and look out at the blue jays and squirrels enjoying my back deck, I hear nothing but silence. I feel nothing but peace. I think about nothing but gratitude.

Noise is such a menace. It blocks. It annoys. It sets you back and it pushes you off track. Silence, for me, is my highway to peace. Just sit somewhere quietly, listening only to silence, for more than five minutes, and feel what peace is like. Eventually you will want more and more of it, and with determination, you can make it happen.

I don’t blast the stereo anymore. I don’t over drink. I don’t busy myself with tasks upon tasks; work, work and more work; constant text messaging, Facebook posting, and needing to always be doing “stuff”. Much of that is what I call noise to shun silence, to avoid oneself, to ignore the call of little you sitting on a stool inside of you, whispering “pay attention to me, listen to me and hear me.” I have turned that around now — I shun noise to embrace silence, to listen and hear the voice from within, and take the lead.

How did I get here, you ask. I would say the COVID crisis forced it on me. As a single, independent, retired public servant, I found myself in an awkward situation. I had to protect myself. I had to follow health department rules. I had to figure out a way of making it through each day without close physical interaction with others. It was weird and crazy. I resorted to talking to myself and developed a friendship with myself. We walked. We cycled. We watched some television. We read and interpreted Margaret Atwood poetry! We kept all of my senses alive and well, in a very strange new world. I continue to nurture that part of my journey through life.

I did something else too. I designated a plot of space in SkyWorld as mine. In it I house the most important people in my life that I thought I had lost. 

During my quiet time, I direct my eyes and my mind to that space to connect with one at a time; we bounce ideas and memories between each other, laugh and cry, smile and wave, check back now and then. It’s a totally peaceful experience. I have not actually lost them. Those relationships continue.

In the summer of 2025, I went to a peace festival in Amsterdam. The person who invited me must have felt I needed the experience. When I arrived on day one, she greeted and welcomed me, but then abandoned me. Completely abandoned me. I could easily have turned around, escaped and found greener pastures. 

But, instead, I looked around the park to get a better sense of what was going on. I knew absolutely nobody. I watched. I listened. I followed. I introduced myself to many people. I returned the next day and the day after. What kept me interested?

One reason might be there were no drugs, no alcohol, no debauchery. Another would be there was no sign of any cult-like activity. The third pull for me were the philosophical presentations about legends and prophecies, connections with spirits and Mother Nature, and the powerful messages of elders that continue to be passed on from generation to generation. 

In addition to all of that, we had discussions about life, love and peace. Basically you can’t love anyone, until you love yourself unconditionally. The test is to look in a mirror, stare straight into your own eyes and say the three words without hesitating. Similarly you cannot contribute to external peace efforts effectively until you are at peace within yourself. I wrote a lot about that unique experience in this blog, if you are interested.

The people I met in that park in Amsterdam were kind, pleasant and interesting. I have never reconnected with the person who abandoned me. Abandonment is noise. I don’t open my doors to noise, especially someone as noisy as that! I did, however connect at a personal level with a few  incredible people, and continue to do so to this day. 

The biggest lesson I got from the peace festival experience is that I am the leader of my life. My inner voice expects me to listen and hear, and act accordingly. I do so as an act of love, unconditional love of self; I also do it as a pathway to living a healthy, happy, peaceful and meaningful life. Noise-free. I am no longer abandoning my self.

I do get that life can’t be like this for everyone. People with partners and/or children have very different algorithms to consider. When algorithms conflict, that’s noise. Noise interrupts peace. If the players can work the conflicts out, the more power to them. If they can’t, and if love and peace are the objectives of life and living, then other decisions need to be made. Getting there is not always easy or doable, and that explains why our world is so diverse in attitudes and outcomes.

McIver Family Legacy

THE McIvers: 

A MAPLE RIDGE PIONEER FAMILY

Lorna Seppala is the great granddaughter of Maple Ridge pioneer John McIver, the guy who founded what is now known as The Maple Ridge Golf Course. She has written an abridged illustrative version of the history of her ancestry as it relates to that property. Recently she did a presentation at the now 101 year old 40+ acre community golf course. 

Her family story is passionate and personal, but also educational, intriguing and informative. Her lineage is rich with memories, honour, pride and generosity.

The land started out as a family farm and homestead for many generations of McIvers, one of Maple Ridge’s earliest settler families. Eventually John McIver Junior no longer wanted to be a farmer. He sought other options and settled with a recommendation to convert the land to a large golf course. The McIvers felt the community would benefit a great deal with close access to a wonderful, easy, inexpensive outdoor recreational activity close to home. It was a gamble, but turned into an incredible community success story.

Over time family members dispersed and developed their own lives elsewhere. Mrs. McIver, the matriarch, remained in the McIver house with her blind son for as long as possible. Eventually the inevitable happened and the time came to sell the land. Many impressive offers were made but, in the end, her love of the community resulted in accepting  a very low offer from the municipality — stipulating the land remain as a community golf course, and a community legacy, with low fees to Maple Ridge residents. Her income from the sale would be enough to support her and her son, modestly, in the family home adjacent to the property in the community she wholeheartedly loved.

Following the presentation, I met Lorna’s brother Robert. He is one of the great grandsons of John McIver. He told me of memories he has carried with him all of his life. As a young boy, he and his siblings often travelled by slow bus from Vancouver to Maple Ridge to stay with his grandmother for a few days now and then. He remembers tobogganing on the golf course land in the winter months. He remembers lying in bed and hearing the lonely whistle of the evening train riding by on the south end of the golf course. He remembers the smoke and settled soot from the BeeHive burners at the mill not far away. He remembers there were boxes and boxes of paper documents regarding the family, their history, photos and business records, and the specific details and expectations of the transferring of ownership of the land. 

While he spoke, I could only feel his ancestors tossing and turning in their graves, worrying about the possibility of the family’s generous gift to the community, and the original intentions of the significantly under market value sale, being swept under a rug for what some are seeing as an urgent community alternative recreational necessity. Yes, this family legacy and community jewel has become the subject of controversy; its future is in a state of suspension.

It seems the City of Maple Ridge is considering a major redevelopment proposal that would eliminate the golf course and emancipate or desecrate the hopes and dreams of the McIver family. The issue is understandably controversial and will be before the voters soon; however it goes, one can only hope that trust, respect, honour and integrity prevail.

Artificial Intelligence

 

Entering the World of Artificial Intelligence 

The Maple Ridge Library is a very diverse resource for the community. It is no longer just a book lending venue. I have already experienced some of its array of options, the most recent of which was a session for seniors relating to the mysterious world of artificial intelligence. 

When I first heard about the phenomenon, I can remember worrying. “What now?” That was my first reaction to my being tired of all the new artificial or indoctrinating ways of living life on Earth. I’ve always had a hesitation about new things. When life is going so smoothly, why bring in new concepts — artificial or imposing concepts to carry me away from my comfort zone?

Artificial Intelligence is most often referenced as AI and pronounced “A-i”, not al. I wonder how people named Al feel about that! I know that is a silly wonder, but a logical one. I also wonder why the typewriter doesn’t depict the capital letter “i“ as we all know it to be! I know that too is a silly thing to wonder about, but a logical one. But I digress, I think. I wonder. I like thinking. I like wondering. It seems like thinking and wondering have become verboten or avoided. Sad. Al, tell me it isn’t so.

Okay so there I sat in the library meeting room with thirty others. I felt ready to dispel my worries and negative thoughts. I set them aside and opened my senior mind to becoming educated about what, at that moment, was a totally perplexing and foreign concept.

The presenter was a senior named Alan Cadwell, former professor at the University of the Fraser Valley. He has been fascinated by technology for decades and when he combines that passion with teaching eager learners, the result is a very positive evaluation! 

This man is well aware of our fears, our uncertainties, our need for clarification. He knows that it is only natural to fear something we don’t understand. It is only natural to fear something that is moving faster than we can conceptualize. He knows we feel overwhelmed. I immediately felt at ease and ready to listen.

Alan is calm. He is patient. He is experienced. He knows his audience and flows through his presentation at a pace that gives us time to take it in, to set our worries and anxieties aside, and to open our minds to clarification. 

Basically AI (A-i) is a title for information explosion. It combines all sources of knowledge together and has become an architect for the future. It amasses data, recognizes patterns, and predicts what’s most likely going to happen next. It offers possible answers to problems or questions, gives us ideas and options, and helps us move forward in understanding and decision making more quickly than ever.

Alan shared with us the phrase “see it as a partnership of AI and Me, not Al instead of Me”. Hearing that proclamation enveloped the room with a sense of calm. We left the session feeling informed and educated about the intentions of AI, its value and its power. And, as with all things that include power, being aware of the negatives while embracing the positives is the best way to move forward.

Alan inspired us to see and embrace ‘learning’ as a daily life habit and key to staying engaged and informed. AI is a tool that can help us learn things, remember things, save time, organize our day, our travels, our weekly shopping for bargains list; how to renovate, decorate, buy or sell a home; how to fix things; and, more importantly, how to be more self-reliant using the best information out there to think, recall, remember and make our own decisions each and every day for as long as we can.

Cedar Sage and Sweetgrass

CEDAR, SAGE AND SWEETGRASS

Recently I went to a contemporary Indigenous art exhibit at the Pitt Meadows Art Gallery in Osprey Village. 

As we all discover when we attend such events, Indigenous art is vibrant, diverse, metaphoric and deeply rooted in their history and culture. This Cedar Sage and Sweetgrass Collection provides all of the above with many stories about identity, resilience, connection, voices and vision. This exhibit is truly educational, awe-inspiring and brings history to the present.

As per usual, I arrived early on my bicycle and sat outside in the warm Autumn sunshine to listen to the quiet hum of voices coming from the neighbouring park, and the coffee shop across the way. I use these pre-event opportunities to refuel my Qi (internal energy source), and practice my patience in waiting for the doors to open.

Eventually people start to arrive. I notice a familiar face and then another: City of Pitt Meadows Councillors Bob Meachen and Tracy Elke. We have met before and we engaged in conversation about our collective appreciation of the community, and their support of the Art Gallery and the fantastic exhibits. They are both happily running for re-election. I commend them for setting time aside on a Saturday of a long weekend to show their interest and support of Indigenous cultural events.

As I walk into the Gallery, I spot Her Worship Nicole MacDonald and another Councillor, Mike Hayes, happily schmoozing with the thirty or so other guests. I hear the softly playing sounds coming from the guitar of Indigenous musician Vince Starr, as people wandered around the various displays of incredible art work throughout the Gallery.

I like seeing events like this unfold because it is actually a wonderful way to learn about, and better understand, the impact of how we got to this point in our collective history. The once subtle and then substantial impact of colonization by the British was cruel and evil. But, now new generations of people — many of whom have come to settle here to flee from their own repression experiences, have helped to bring out the once hidden pride, confidence, self-esteem and talents of Indigenous peoples. Those experiences, as told by their highly respected elders, are strongly reflected in Indigenous art. It is encouraging to see subsequent generations clearing out negative energies and spreading truths like sweetgrass. Their history is as old as the oldest cedar trees. Their determination is as wise as the cleansing and healing power of sage. All of it symbolizes the potential for growth and collectively moving forward with honour, respect and celebration.

Special events like this are a big part of the collective efforts to bring to light the missing information in the school curriculum many of us have experienced. Open minds and open hearts lead to a level of humanitarianism and compassion that continues to be difficult for some; but, I give my full support to the City of Pitt Meadows, and the Pitt Meadows Art Gallery, for their ongoing and unyielding conscious efforts to be respectful and supportive of the goals of reconciliation and harmony in the lives of all people grazing on this land.

Written by Antoinetta DeWit

September 2026

VOLKER PARK MAPLE RIDGE

VOLKER PARK

Over the past few years there has been a concerted effort by the City of Maple Ridge to upgrade local playgrounds. 

Recently I cycled to Volker Park, in West Maple Ridge, for the official opening of the redesigned playground. This park improvement project includes more than the replacement of the old playground equipment. It now has new amenities to keep pace with the growing community. What was once merely a few swings and a spinner (formerly called  merry-go-round), now includes pathways, a picnic shelter, seating, shaded areas, grass, trees, bicycle and car parking areas, washrooms, a zipline, and large spray park.

The public event started with the City’s mayor, His Worship Dan Ruimy, at the podium for the official welcoming of about fifty guests, and he acknowledged the valuable input the City got from residents in the area who wanted something functional and modernized for the children and adults in the area. They talked; the City planners and Council listened.

Mayor Ruimy spoke about how we got to this point, giving a bit of background about the importance of parks, and parks development policies. He pointed out that they add life to neighbourhoods and help keep people of all ages happy, healthy and connected.

The upgrades at Volker Park were shaped by community feedback and designed to offer more opportunities for residents of all ages and abilities to play, cool off, connect and enjoy the outdoors closer to home. The final product will not disappoint.

The City of Maple Ridge, once merely known as a District east of Vancouver, mostly rural and agricultural, has grown and matured over the years. It is now a developing city that boldly balances the importance of nature, people, community, history and the economy, in a way that has not only impressed people and attracted new people, but businesses as well. 

Improvements to public spaces such as Volker Park help shape and enhance neighbourhoods, and provide residents with free recreational options close to home. It is great to see that the health and safety of both adults and children of all abilities, have been included in this win-win community building process. 

LETTING GO

 

Through the silence I hear your voice

crying out for help,

It’s not too late to dispel the fears

for the values you hold dear.

It’s okay to make mistakes in life

It happens to all of us,

Take the reins with both hand and heart

and embrace a brand new start.

You do have to take that step,

as hard as it may seem

Let go of all embedded fears

to return to values you hold dear.

Self love, self confidence and self esteem 

need you on their team

Please take a break and walk away

to discover much better days.

A Beating of a Drum

 

DRUMMING FOR PEACE

Many people who know me know that my formative years were lived in a very small community in the Upper Fraser Canyon region of the Province of British Columbia, Canada. It was and is a hamlet, where non-indigenous people worked for the railway or in the forest industry, ran the aerial ferry, did haircuts and managed mail services … there might have been a population of 350 back then, and much less now. The Indigenous people were sequestered ‘on the other side of the tracks” mostly; some enrolled in school; some participated in community events; but, for the most part, they kept to themselves due to the impact of colonialism, racism and degrading attitudes.

The mystery behind all of that was very hush hush and never explained in school. Nevertheless, I noticed; I was curious; I was dumbfounded. I wanted to turn things around and make them better, but the dream was much like fighting Goliath. I wanted to be like David — the young man who hit Goliath with a stone from a sling and defeated him.

The very first time I was invited to an actual drum circle, I was an adult in a job that connected to a lot of Indigenous things. I had had no instruction and no direction.  I was handed a drum and began tapping it ever so lightly trying my best to follow the beat of other drummers. They seemed to really know what they were doing. 

It took a while for me to settle in that circle of drummers, but I remember deciding to make the experience work for me.  I wasn’t playing any particular tune; I was releasing a tempo of energy that was clearly locked inside of me from childhood. My mind focused on my early memories of living in North Bend and living within the clear separation of ‘us and them’. I did not like it; I did not understand it; and, I vowed to never play along.

That first drumming opportunity became a mind boggling story telling experience. I could feel the very real connection of my heartbeat and my mind, as my two hands tapped lightly and heavily, slowly and quickly, as though I was telling a story with a slow introduction, a profoundly moving development and a powerful ending. It was all impulse driven and I drove it hard.

As I released energy, I developed energy.  As I played, I listened. I visualized. I smiled; I cried. I closed my eyes and opened them. I was part of a group, but I was my own island. In a way, I think on that occasion, it might have been a  version of being high on a substance. The substance was all about history, Indigenous history, and my vision of how it was and how I wanted it to become. The more I drummed, the more I felt my neural pathways open up and clear out. As I got to the end of the rendition, I felt relieved and relaxed. I had   released the anger and stress that had been bottled up inside for so long. It strengthened my resolve to continue to do my bit to support reconciliation efforts in any way possible.

As my tapping hands began to slow down, my eyes opened.  I looked around at the other drummers. They were all like-minded people respecting the drum as a symbol of community and communication. The focus of their minds were not necessarily on the same wavelength as mine, but that did not and does not matter. We had all been releasing energy and gaining energy through body movements, intuition, cognitive thinking and connectivity. The experience was powerful and real, casual and calming; personally revealing and relaxing — personal and group therapy at its finest.

As September 30th (National Truth and Reconciliation Day) approaches, Canadians once again receive an opportunity to learn, appreciate and understand Indigenous history from their life experiences and that of their elders. Indigenous people are stepping forward to help us through the learning process, hosting us, inviting us, talking to us, showing us and sharing with us. They are a proud people — survivors of evil, of lying, cheating and misrepresentation. They have not lost hope, and neither have I.

I am so happy that I am no longer feeling alone on this mission to set things right. My drum keeps beating on the Indigenous file, as every year more and more people are getting on board to make things right. Recognizing past wrongs is one big step forward, and seeing the progress that has been made since my youth, has been heartwarming and beautifully rhythmic.  Let’s keep it going and growing. Maybe one day September 30th will be named our National Day to celebrate Reconciliation and Peace.

Written by Antoinetta DeWit

August 2026