How it all began
Beavers, Beavers, do your best!
When I was young, shortly after my parents divorced, I moved to Calgary from Kelowna BC. My Mum enrolled me and my siblings into beavers and brownies. She saw it as a way for us to get involved in community, have fun and learn quality life lessons. My Mum was so excited to find something for us to participate in that she became one of the leaders herself: the main leader in fact, Hawkeye.
Every week I learned to tie knots, clean my nails and pay my dues, and when it was my week to be the keeper of the beaver mascot, I would hold it as most sacred. Each week was a lesson in gratitude as every kid in beavers had the chance to practice surrendering the mascot forward onto the next. Some would experience more difficulty than others with this; giving up the beaver meant giving up whatever fame came with being the carrier for that week.
Looking back, I realize I wasn’t the best beaver there was. I didn’t have a bunch of badges on my sash, I didn’t progress to white tail as fast as some others did, but I did my best. I was proud to receive the vacuum cleaner badge and the music badge, two things I excel at and enjoy very much today.
What beavers taught me was to respect the way of animals, of nature and myself. During camps, I witnessed real beavers out in the wild. The beaver doesn’t work to do a half-assed job building his lodge for himself and his family, he does his best; from preparing his supplies by chopping trees down with his powerful teeth, to dragging the sticks and logs through water to construct and build his dream home, he is a master in persistence, survival, and water allocation.
I learned a lot from those beavers, and after tying many knots, whittling many sticks, capturing the flag dozens of times and participating in numerous campfire ceremonies, I finally paid my dues and matured into a full-fledged white tail beaver. The carpet at home was spotless.
With the help of my wheelchair, I progressed through to Cubs and later on to Sea Scouts where the trials of doing my best were tested. I faced the initiations into the realms of personal stamina and endurance: learning to utilize my resources, make a fire, pitch a tent. At the time I was not aware what was being revealed to me: I was being taught the wisdom of the elements and given insight into many of nature’s great secrets.
I suppose doing my best all those years in scouting really paid off. At age thirteen I was given an award for my participation. I was flown to Ottawa and received the Jack Cornwall decoration, one of the highest awards one can receive in scouting. I shook hands with the Governor General and wondered who was lucky enough to get to vacuum the parliament building.
I recall a statue of Terry Fox directly outside my hotel window in Ottawa.
I remember those days as fertile training grounds for what I would encounter later in my life.
