Image by Iguana Jo via Flickr

There are so many wonderful things I've learnt from you.

I want to remind you of a few.

You taught me that reading didn't end with Jack and Jill

And that books would open a world of wonder for me.

I got the message....and you made me a bookworm costume

For the carnival.

You traced my ancestry back to Ur of the Chaldees

With a bit of a detour in Poland.

You taught me to be kind to tramps

And to give a penny to the RNLI.

I went door to door with you

Raising money for Hungarian émigrés

(One of whom later became my surgery boss.)

You taught me to let dogs smell my hand before I patted them

And that circuses were cruel to animals.

You gave me 'thinkabouts' before bedtime

To keep the nightmares away

And that's the first time I heard of Fleming

And the discovery of penicillin.

You made swords of rolled up newspaper

For back garden jousting events

And a local post office from a cardboard box.

You saw the scientist underneath the Romantic

And together we looked for badgers at night

Gazed at stars

Watched a total eclipse through photographic film

Made copper sulphate crystals in the cellar.

 I helped you construct a nine foot pram dinghy

To ferry a family of six--

Developing a permanent aversion to linseed oil.

You made me a long jump and a high jump

Built an igloo and brought cocoa to sip

In my warm snow cave.

You taught me to aspire

Like the fairy atop the Christmas tree

To have an enquiring mind

And be an independent thinker.

You taught me to live life as an adventure

Borrowing courage and faith from Colum Kiel.

You taught me that the love of the Lord

Is a lamp for my steps

A light for my path.

You taught me to brave the elements

To add a stone to the cairn

And never to set off down an untracked hillside

In the late afternoon.

You taught me to belay and to cast off

To read the winds and the tides

To pitch a tent

And not to forget my anorak.

(I still don't forget my anorak).

You instructed me in the political philosophy

Of Marx, Lenin and Trotsky,

Gave me a banned book by Prince Kropotkin

Imparted to me a thirst for justice

Nurtured my prophetic spirit.  

You taught me not to lie

To stay out of debt

And that swearing is more effective

If you hardly ever swear.

You said that the true meaning of "God provides"

Is that everything you need is right at hand

If you just know how to look:

And that it doesn't matter if there aren't many

Of whatever it is you're looking for

Because you only need one--

And you will find it.

You showed me that privilege and responsibility

Are two sides of same coin

And that I, like little Hans

Can make a big difference.

Most of all, as good Dads do

You believed in me

And taught me to believe in myself.

That lesson, like the anorak, has stuck.

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Greetings dear ones! As I write this, I look back on a week of extreme weather phenomena--floods in Queensland Australia, a heat wave in Argentina, the New York blizzard and Britain's coldest winter on record. And I look back too, on a year of weather catastrophes, above all, the Pakistan floods, one of the worst natural disasters in history. Many Pakistani villagers face a mountain winter without food supplies, blankets or housing. Oxfam is still supplying one and a half million Pakistanis with water, while admitting they are meeting only a fraction of the need. Many of us by now are getting the message that human-caused climate change implies more than warmer weather.

 Looking forward, I see a year in which the human population is expected to top the seven billion mark. Seven billion humans wreaking havoc on the environment and competing for scarce resources! Seven billion human beings, each one infinitely precious, each unique, each a potential gift of hope to the future!  I contemplate the essential paradox of these two sentences. Population is a complex topic, not susceptible to pat answers. Wealthy nations have a larger environmental impact due to greater consumption, whereas people in poor nations impact endangered species as a direct result of hunger and lack of education. The carbon footprint of an average American is much greater that that of an average Indian, yet the poor of the world are suffering the effects of climate change today, without ever having reaped the benefits of life in the developed world.

 If there are 'too many' of us, why give our time and money to lengthen lives by improving healthcare and nutrition? From the pragmatic perspective, the answer is that the Malthusian checks of war, famine and epidemics wreak social havoc, and social havoc is dangerous for the human and natural environment. Improved education and lower infant mortality naturally lead to lower birthrates, in turn causing population to plateau and then fall, in a more harmonious way. From the spiritual perspective, the answer is simple. As I cherish my own life, health and wellbeing, so I cherish the life, health and wellbeing of each one of the seven billion humans who are not separate from myself. A hungry child in Pakistan is my own hungry child. A cold and desperate street person is my very self. If one of us is suffering, all of us suffer. We are all one.

It is so inherent to see ourselves as the centre of our own universe. Yet the child going to bed hungry tonight, the mother in the refugee camp with no clean drinking water, the person dying of AIDS alone in a hut with nothing to eat but UN rations--each one is as special as we are, as precious as we are, each one has the same dreams, the same hopes, the same potential as we do. Take a moment to think of your greatest heroes or heroines. Where would we be without these great souls? And now remember that today, a child with the potential to be the next Alexander Fleming, the next Mahatma Gandhi, the next Rosa Parks, the next Vanadana Shiva, may die from malnutrition or preventable disease.

The unique needs of the poor, whether in our own city or developing nations on the other side of the world, will never be met adequately by governments or large NGOs.  Private philanthropy, people helping people, working through grassroots organizations, has the greatest potential to provide the poor of the world with a decent human life. Following the financial debacle of 2008, many of us have seen our retirement savings dwindle, our benefits cut, our incomes reduced. Some of us live from paycheck to paycheck while others of us no longer have a paycheck at all. Some have had to put off retirement; some have been laid off when we still need to work. Many in the US, myself included, have no protection from catastrophic illness. Facing these altered circumstances, it may be hard to recognize how immensely privileged we are compared to the rest of the world. However hard-up we may feel ourselves to be, we can spare something for those who have nothing. As citizens of our municipality, we have a duty to the hungry and homeless in our midst. As citizens of the world, we have great responsibility for the poorest members of our global community. Food for others, like food for ourselves, must be a non-negotiable expenditure.

As one of the soon-to-be Seven Billion, I am a part of the problem. As a resident of the developed world, I am a disproportionally large part of the problem. And as a visionary and philanthropist, I am a part of the solution, and hope that my positive influence will be much greater than a seven-billionth part. Please join us in our efforts at private philanthropy by participating in Alandi Ashram's Peace Push for Pakistan, in collaboration with Global Greengrants, an organization that unites donors and activists across the globe in their shared passion for social and environmental justice. To help Pakistan's victims of climate change catastrophe, please visit http://www.greengrants.org/get-involved/special-campaigns/

Dear friends, I wish each and every one of you a peaceful, healthy and blessed New Year. Let's make 2011 the year we take our world back through compassionate action!

With my love and blessings always,

Alakananda Ma

Image by Getty Images via @daylife

Image via Wikipedia

Image via Wikipedia