Hopefully we’re through our big fire of the season. We’re starting to see rain on the regular (it’s raining as I write this), though this appears to be the end of it for the foreseeable future.
I mean, it’s not like that year that people had to swim the Emperor’s Challenge, but for now, we don’t have to worry about a fire blowing up and blowing into town.
And today? Well, to paraphrase a famous prophet, don’t worry about tomorrow, for today has enough worries on its own. (I think that was Bobby McFerrin. Or Jesus. One of the two.)
I try to live by that adage, but it’s hard, because worry? Is so easy.
And it’s a fine line to walk between not worrying and simply being a Pollyanna, blindly walking into the future with not a care in the world.
Indeed, people with Pollyanna Syndrome focus on the positive while ignoring the negative.
“More than a bias towards positivity and away from negative,” writes Shayne Seymour on his Independently Happy website, “Pollyanna Syndrome completely ignores any potential negative. I’ve even seen the phrase ‘blindly optimistic.’” He says being happy is healthy, and positive thinking and optimism truly can shape your life for the better, we don’t gain anything from simply ignoring the negative.
And, you know, sometimes I worry that I cross the line from worry free into blindly optimistic.
D’oh. There I go, worrying again.
One of my favourite series (except for the last page; if you’ve read it, you know why; you might argue with me, but you know what I’m talking about) is The Chronicles of Prydain, by Lloyd Alexander.
It features as its hero a pig keeper. If you know anything about the farm boy trope, you already know where it’s going, but along the way, our hero—Taran, by name—goes a-wandering to find himself. On his journeys, he bumps into a man named Llonio, who just may be the luckiest man in the world. Llonio’s luck, though, appears to be contagious. When Taran trips over a stone, Llonio proclaims it a stroke of luck, as a stone is needed to grind grain.
As Taran is about to depart, he asks Llonio about the secret of his luck.
“Secret?” replied Llonio. “Have you not already guessed? Why my luck’s no greater than yours or any man’s. You need only sharpen your eyes to see your luck when it comes, and sharpen your wits to use what falls into your hands.”
I know, I know. That sort of went into the topic of luck instead of worry, but I love that bit.
But he isn’t just lucky. He is happy. Indeed, it is he that says “if I fret over tomorrow, I’ll have little joy today.”
So it wasn’t Bobby McFerrin.
This is what is distracting my brain cycles right now.
No. I mean this. What you’re holding in your hands, right now. This is what I’m worried about.
You see, the paper was never meant to be an ad supported paper.
While advertising is an important part of the paper, and helps get news and information out to the public, the goal was to have the newspaper be directly supported—at least in part—by its readership.
And, I suppose it is supported, in part by its readership. There are about 20 people out there who, each and every month, provide a few bucks yo ensure that the paper keeps going strong.
Which is great. But ultimately amounts to less than $200/month. I don’t know if any of you have tried to feed your family on $200/month, but it’s not a lot.
So, while I am worried, I also have a dream.
My dream is this: I’d love to double that amount.
Will $400 feed the family? Possibly. But it will also mean that more people are engaging with the paper. More people will be taking it upon themselves to support a free and active local media. And it will help me be able to give young kids—to whom most employment avenues are closed—a chance to work and make money and take on just a little bit of responsibility for themselves.
But I worry that I’m imposing by asking people to support the paper. To encourage to contribute by going to Patreon.com/tumblerridgelines. But, as Llonio said: if I fret over tomorrow….
And I know that doubling the number of people who support the paper is an audacious goal, but…
But I have a dream that goes one step beyond doubling the number of people who currently support the paper.
It’s to double that number.
And once I hit that dream? Well, I bet you know what’s next.
Of course, this is a dream that can only go so far. RidgeLines is a hyper-local newspaper. I write about Tumbler Ridge for the people of Tumbler Ridge.
And last I checked, there weren’t a lot of you.
That’s okay. That’s part of why I love living here. But … well, newspapers have been viewed as mass media for the last 150 years or so. And there’s not a mass of people out there.
Which is why I am writing this for you, reading the paper right now. Sarah. Bob (not that one; he already supports the paper), Barb, (again, not that one, the other one), Jesse, Jodi (or was it Jodie?). All of you. (Especially you, Bruce…)
Because you’re the reason I do this. Oh, sure, I’d love to make a living at it, but if that was all I wanted, I’d go work at the mine. (I mean, if they’d have me.)
And even though it would be great if y’all supported me, that’s why it’s not a prerequisite. I don’t want to put a barrier between you and the news.
I believe that an informed public is a public much less prone to being blown around by the winds of rumour. Fact inoculates us to lies, damn lies and statistics.
And thank you for your support.
Trent is the publisher of Tumbler RidgeLines.
