Tag Archives: editor’s letter

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

We are created in water—amniotic fluid is about 98% water. Throughout our lives, water will continue to pull us, not just through thirst, but through longing. Most of us harbor a desire to be near the ocean, a lake, or a river. A swim in a body of water is curative.

Water holds deep spiritual significance across religions, symbolizing purity, life, and renewal. Yet, despite its sacredness, we often fail to honor it. In Christianity, water is central to baptism, representing cleansing and rebirth. In Hinduism, sacred rivers like the Ganges purify the soul and aid in achieving moksha (liberation). Islam incorporates water in wudu (ritual washing) before prayers, signifying spiritual and physical cleanliness. In Judaism, water plays a key role in mikveh rituals, symbolizing purification and transformation. Indigenous traditions often view water as a sacred element, honoring its life-giving properties through ceremonies. Across faiths, water connects humanity to the divine, symbolizing rebirth, healing, and spiritual connection.

Water is the lifeblood of our planet, yet we often fail to treat it with the respect it deserves. The world’s water supply faces critical threats from pollution caused by human activities. Industrial waste, such as dyes and chemicals from fast fashion production, contaminates waterways. Agricultural runoff from large-scale farming operations, particularly those supporting beef production, introduces chemicals into water systems. Single-use plastics, like bottles and packaging, clog waterways and create garbage patches spanning over 1.6 million square kilometers—an area more than twice the size of Texas—disrupting marine ecosystems and harming wildlife. In 2023 alone, approximately 70 operational oil spills and 10 significant tanker spills released thousands of tonnes of oil into the environment, compounding the degradation of vital water sources. These issues underscore the urgent need for collective action to protect and preserve this essential resource​.

We are contaminating ourselves with the clothes we buy, the plastic we throw away, and the cars we drive. The pollution we cause through everyday actions harms our own well-being. Water, the essence of our existence, is being poisoned by our neglect.

We are told we are living in the age of self-love, but often this is interpreted as indulging in the material—buying that trinket or satisfying our fleeting desires. “You deserve it” has become the anthem of our time. But does indulging our egos really lead to fulfillment? Does this kind of self-love align with our deepest needs?

As we approach one of the most wasteful seasons of the year, I urge you to pause and reflect. Does indulgence serve as true self-love? Nature owes us nothing. Instead, we are deeply in debt—to the water, the wildlife, and the air we breathe.

We are water—our bodies, our lives, depend on it. When we protect water, we protect ourselves. Real self-love begins with responsibility. Repairing the harm we’ve caused to the Earth, especially its water, is the greatest gift we can offer ourselves and future generations.

As we move into the new year, let’s commit to being better stewards of the water that sustains us. Happy Holidays, and see you in 2025!

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“Einstein’s 1905 paper came out and suddenly changed people’s thinking about space-time. We’re again in the middle of something like that. When the dust settles, time – whatever it may be – could turn out to be even stranger and more illusory than even Einstein could imagine.”
Carlo Rovelli

This month our writers explore the concept of time and space. When I was in grade 5 the teacher gave us an exercise in which we mapped out our life on a timeline which looked like a straight line stretching horizontally across a page.

Storytelling was divided into befores and afters. During high school a teacher pointed out to me that in my fiction writing I struggled with tense, she seemed to suggest that perhaps I hadn’t been taught my verbs in English properly which was/is probably true since I went to school in French and only spoke English at home.

As I got older I often wrote two versions of the same story- one in the present and one in the traditional narrator’s past. What I came to realize is that I don’t struggle with verb tenses- what I actually do is lose myself in time. What I mean by this is that when you are telling a story about what happened in the past you are usually recalling it as you narrated it to yourself back then, in which case the present tense would make sense for a narrative voice, whereas if I am telling a story with the wisdom incurred since the event, then using the past tense feels logical. If you are not an avid reader or writer chances are you don’t spend a lot of time worrying about your verb tenses.

We are taught time is linear but now as we enter a world where what was once science-fiction is now just science, it is likely that time is constantly folding over itself and our experiences and inner world are floating between dimensions, like flotsam and jetsam.

Julia Mossbridge, a cognitive neurophysicist, has been doing studies on precognition that support the idea that you can increase your skill to see the future (Although it isn’t really necessarily the future but could be a slip of the past that may have already occurred). I think every one of us has had the feeling that something would happen and then it did.

Have you ever met someone and disliked them immediately for no reason? Some future transgression that you are aware of on a deeper level perhaps? Carlo Rovelli, physicist, and author, posits that Time is “part of a complicated geometry woven together with the geometry of space.”

Perhaps the next thing to divide us will be whether we are string theorists or quantum loop theorists? Maybe the thought of several versions of you living in different dimensions seems ridiculous. Maybe you have never experienced the knowing I referred to and you live your life tight-roping it across a clear line from ‘before’ towards ‘after’ with logic and rationality.

Or maybe you are like me and find yourself doing things without knowing the logic of why.

See you sometime,

Jane

Editor’s Letter

“We look and listen to the mortally wounded nature … where the worst is yet to come.”
Zapatista Manifesto

We have been waiting in sweltering humid days for drops from the sky to give us a respite. We move through the world masked-up, struggling to breathe and wondering when relief will come. Grey skies that yield not a drop and thunderous sounds seem to taunt us. May and June on the Oaxacan coast are months filled with longing and anticipation. The landscape is brown and thirsty, its hunger mirrored by the people, who after an anemic tourist season, are also in limbo.

This month our writers explore the environment. To most of us, this means nature but it is also a state of being. We accept in nature the cycle of life which inevitably leads to death; dry tree branches or a fish that ends up on our plate. That which once danced through the fantastic blue depths of the ocean eventually stops swimming, whether by having fulfilled its allotted time or by being prematurely snatched up in a net.

For the past year we have lived in a collective environment, whether you are in Calgary or Delhi, we have all been moving towards a common purpose and defeating a common enemy. Humanity has become a school of fish that moves in sync like some other worldly dance. Yes, there are still so many things that we disagree about, but we are like the great network of trees that communicate through root systems; united by our fears and worries.

I have never felt greater reverence for nature than I have this past year. The symphony of birds is like the voice of god, whichever one you believe in, majestic trees have been reminders of our own individual insignificance. How can we ever improve our environment more than a tree does?

The world is slowly unfolding into its previous normalcy. People say it will never be the same but I believe they are wrong. We will slip back into our minutiae of concerns; getting more stuff, more power, just more for the sake of more. Will this time have been in vain? I hope we will remember the importance of nature when contrasted with the human experience and revere the one that has the greatest importance.

Then the sky opened, rain fell and suddenly everything is green.

See you next month,

Jane

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

This month at The Eye we have much to celebrate! When we put out the first issue in early 2011, I could not have predicted that almost ten years later we would still be going strong and putting out our 100th issue.

This is also our annual Food Issue and, as a restaurateur, it is one of my favorites to put together. However, this year feels a little bit different for me.

The unprecedented worldwide COVID situation is affecting how we relate to one another. We are reevaluating social norms; shaking hands is verboten, let alone the hugging and kissing which is so common in Latin culture. Standing too close to someone is no longer just rude but is seen as a form of aggression.

The restaurant experience as we have come to know it is changing quickly, with disposable menus, plastic-wrapped cutlery, having your body misted down with disinfectant, hand sanitizer, and of course there are the masks. Suddenly staying home seems a lot more fun.

With this in mind, we return to comfort foods. This is not a time for molecular gastronomy or expensive cuts of meat. It’s a time for eating close to home with seasonal ingredients. Make extra and send it to your neighbor – in sterilized Tupperware, of course!

And we need to evaluate these changes through a wider lens. Yesterday 4,158 people died from COVID while over 21,000 died from hunger. I do not say this to diminish those affected by this virus, but to encourage us to remain focused on the fact that many humans do not have the basics for survival. This ‘new normal’ makes providing those basics even more difficult. There are currently 70 million displaced people across the globe and half of those are women and children. Many are living in one of the various immigration detention centers or refugee camps around the globe. As the world came to a stop, they have not had the luxury of self-isolating. In addition, caseworkers, courts and immigration services came to a standstill, making the already long process they face, even longer.

The world has come to a halt to protect human lives. But why have we not stopped the world for the hungry when their numbers are so great and their power so little?

Thank you to our readers for being on this journey with us!

See you in October,

Jane

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.”
Herman Hesse, Bäume: Betrachtungen und Gedichte

What a challenging time this has been! Circumstances have made many of us reflect on our lives. Perhaps you have questioned how you spend your time and what really matters. What changes will you make? What is the intention of your life?

This month our writers explore the theme of trees.

As you read this, what is the tree that is closest to you? Contemplate it for a few minutes. How long has it been there? Was it planted by someone or did it spring up by the grace of nature? Run your fingertips along its bark. How do its branches reach- extending out like open arms for a hug or like a child on tiptoes trying to touch the sky? What is the shape and color of the leaves? Press one to your check and feel its texture.

Now imagine its roots reaching underground and connecting to the next closest tree. What information or secret are they sharing?

You don’t need to me to tell you how necessary trees are to our survival- we all learn it as children and yet we seem to forget. We are an entire species hell bent on self-destruction. We are literally cutting down the very things that allow us to breathe- somewhat ironically as a virus that affects the respiratory system fills us with fear and has us staying indoors and wearing face masks.

Last week when we had the alarming earthquake that made our homes sway and, dishes and mirrors crash to the floor, I couldn’t help but notice that the trees remained sturdy. From the tallest leaning palm along the boulevard to the giant guanacastles that are peppered through Huatulco, their roots held firm and they stood.

I opened this editorial by commenting on what a challenging time this has been. I should have added… for humans. The world is actually ok. It is humanity that is out of sync with nature. During quarantine I have been thinking about a whale. I imagine him deep in the ocean, large and magnificent. I think of the ships that have stopped crossing above him and I hope he is enjoying the brief respite from our symphony of industry.

Go to the tree closest to you. Touch it. Listen to it. Learn from it.

See you next month,

Jane