The following is an adaptation of a speech I wrote in 2016 for presentations done with my father, author Kevin Van Tighem, to promote our collaborative book project ‘Heart Waters - Sources of the Bow River’.
To purchase the book, visit Rocky Mountain Books, or look for it at your preferred book retailer.
Dramatic light over the front ranges of the Rocky Mountains south of Highwood Pass, Alberta, Canada.
Heart Waters was a collaboration between my father and I in an effort to illustrate the beauty of the headwater region of the Bow River, as well as highlight some of the environmental challenges it faces and offer some positive insight into a brighter future for these landscapes, as well as for the water security of the many communities dependent upon it. My father is a celebrated biologist, conservationist and author who is passionate about the idea of living symbiotically with the landscapes we inhabit, and he invited me on to the project as a photographer to document some of the many creeks and streams that flow together to form the Bow River.
The photographs compiled in Heart Waters were taken over the course of two years. As it turns out, this was not nearly enough time to fully explore the diverse landscapes that make up the front ranges of the Rockies and the Bow River watershed. Despite that, I was fortunate enough to capture a small glimpse of its wildness and precious nature.
My initial focus with this project was discovering how to see these landscapes differently. I had the privilege of growing up in the Rocky Mountains, and over those years the mountain environment became so familiar that at times it seemed almost commonplace. Before I began to travel the world as a young adult, I began to forget how special a place it truly is. This habituation can have the affect of stealing away the magic of a place, so my challenge was to approach it with new eyes.
I was fortunate to have the firsthand accounts of my father and his connection to the land. He shared his experiences and stories, as well as his knowledge and understanding of the natural processes at work in each of the places we explored. His eyes and his words provided a fresh perspective, and I began to see the landscapes with a more intuitive understanding of how they were formed. Having made a living as a photographer over the last decade, seeking new ways of seeing has been my livelihood. So, naturally, there were all of the usual technical and artistic concerns that occupied my mind and shaped my thought processes, but those technical aspects are not what I wish to explore with you here.
This project was very special to me for a number of reasons. The first of those is that my family has a deep appreciation for, and connection to, nature. To have the opportunity to combine my work with the ability to affect positive change for these environments is a true gift; and one that I will always be grateful to my Dad for. It gave me an opportunity to deepen my understanding of the complexity of the Rockies ecosystem. Through the miles walked amongst lodgepole pine forests and over windblown ridges, I was able to strengthen my relationship with the land. As a result, so too did my understanding of the interconnectedness of all things expand. It also gave me an opportunity to deepen my relationship with my father, and to come to know him better and understand more fully what drives him. These ideas lead into what was likely the largest lesson that this project gave to me; the lesson of right relationship. More specifically than the book itself, it is relationships that I would really like to discuss.
The saying ‘Right Relationship’ is found in a variety of forms in various cultures. Nearly every indigenous population in the world carries some form of this philosophy, and recognize that the health of the individual, the community, and their environment are all a direct result of a complex web of interrelationships. By nurturing and respecting these relationships, harmony is maintained between the individual parts of the system, and overall health is a result.
So what do we think of when we hear the word relationship? It has a different meaning to each of us. Really, it could be said that all of our thoughts, feelings, words, and actions display relationships. What we think of ourselves and others, how we unwind and recreate, what we consume, as well as how conscious we are of these things as they occur, are all products of our relationship with ourselves and with our surroundings. Everything that we do, and everything that we experience happens in relation to something else; there are no singular events. All of our actions have reactions, but many of them occur far down the line, out of sight and out of mind, making it easy for us to subconsciously cultivate a disconnection from this reality. We live in a vast web of actions and reactions, and the strings of this web are tied with relationships. The more we are conscious of it, the more power we have to affect change from the source, which is ultimately ourselves.
Author Kevin Van Tighem stands and looks over Sheep River Falls in Kananaskis Country, Alberta.
Our society faces a number of mounting challenges. These challenges pose an ever growing pressure on us to change our ways, and they appear to us as threats. The threat of melting glaciers and irresponsible land use affecting our water security, the threat of urban expansion, the threat of pollution degrading the purity of our air. As we begin to see the effects of climate change taking place, it only serves to increase that anxiety and urgency that we feel. It’s true; we are faced with an environmental crisis, and as it plays out it will effect every aspect of our world.
The Chinese write the word crisis with two characters. The first of the characters means ‘danger’. The second, represents ‘opportunity’. As a culture we have developed a deep underlying current of fear with regards to our future. We’ve developed a negative relationship with how we view our problems. Our fear of the mounting challenges and our fear of the unknown prevent us from seeing these challenges as what they truly are; opportunities.
Those of us who are concerned about these environmental issues often find ourselves perpetuating fear through our messaging. Out of a desire to expand awareness and encourage others to be concerned, we resort to using the language of threats and dangers. So how can we transition to a better way of looking at the issues at hand? So often we find ourselves citing this issue and that issue, this resulting affect or that resulting damage, picking at the parts rather than looking at the whole, because when using a language of fear the ‘whole’ is too big of a topic to productively tackle. I would suggest that a simple rewording of our questions can transform our approach. Instead of focusing on our obsession with the dangers, let’s ask questions that cultivate the opportunity.
“As a culture we have developed a deep underlying current of fear with regards to our future.... and our fear of the unknown prevent us from seeing these challenges as what they truly are; opportunities. ”
Looking down into the Bow River Valley over Canmore, Alberta. The famous ‘Three Sisters’ mountain is visible in centre.
So, I think what we should be asking is; what is the source of health?
The source of health is an awareness of all parts, and a recognition of ones relationship, through action and reaction, too each of those parts. Many Indigenous cultures view health as a holistic combination of all aspects of life. It is viewed in a context expanded from the narrow view of individual physical pathology to include the mind, spirit, emotions, social group, and lifestyle. Humans, in nearly every environment we occupy, are a keystone species. So naturally when our activity is not harmonized with our environment for maximum and mutual productivity, we have a negative affect on that environment. In my Fathers writing we witness some of the destructive habits that are becoming commonplace in our headwater landscapes, and what we see is a severe disconnect between our actions and their reactions, a disconnection between our consumption habits and our reliance on a healthy ecology to sustain us. The indigenous medicine man might tell us that what we are seeing is a disease of the mind and spirit, proliferating through our social group, and manifesting in our lifestyle choices.
There is a distinct difference clearly visible in the groups of people who recreate in our headwaters. There are those who recreate in a way that connects them to the land, such as hiking, camping and hunting, and there are those who recreate in a way that disconnects them from the land, such as mud-bogging, trail blazing and clear-cutting. The first list of actions not only contribute to the health of the landscape, but they also contribute to the health of the mind, spirit, social group, and lifestyle. The second group degrades those systems. The medicine man might say that one promotes life, and the other invites disease.
Gnarled old limber pines dusted with snow stand above the mist over Highwood House south of Kananaskis Country.
“By letting go of old habits and ingrained ways of thinking, we can make room for change and adaptation, so as to harmonize ourselves with natures changes in a way that benefits the longevity and health of our communities.”
Nature doesn’t differentiate between life and death. Both are two sides of the same continuous process. Walk through the shade of a montane feather moss forest in spring and in the fallen lodgepole pine and spruce and we find countless mushrooms and wildflowers growing. We see that death brings new life. Walk through a flood battered grove of cottonwoods and we find tiny saplings pushing up through the rocks amongst fallen grandfather trees. Destruction brings rebirth. Indigenous peoples around the world knew that aligning their way of life with natures basic laws brought them resilience in the face of adversity. We too can align ourselves with these laws.
By letting go of old habits and ingrained ways of thinking, we can make room for change and adaptation, so as to harmonize ourselves with natures changes in a way that benefits the longevity and health of our communities. Indigenous healing has the intention of not simply addressing physical symptoms, but of facilitating transformation through the process of experiencing the disease. As the earth undergoes transformation through climate change and growing populations, we have an opportunity to transform the way we live. We can seek a deeper awareness and understanding of our headwaters; not to control them, but to benefit from them and with them. They are part of us, and we are part of them, connected by our interdependent relationships. We can grow and change together. To cultivate health from the edge of crisis, we must seek to cultivate the opportunity rather than the threat.
The beautiful twists and turns of Quirk Creek as it meanders towards the Elbow River in Kananaskis Country, part of the Bow River Headwaters.
Heart Waters is published by Rocky Mountain Books.
Critical Acclaim for ‘Heart Waters’
‘Heart Waters - Sources of the Bow River’ was shortlisted for the 2016 Banff Mountain Film and Book Festival award for Mountain & Wilderness Literature.
Read a review of ‘Heart Waters’ in Crowfoot Media
Read a review of ‘Heart Waters’ in the Calgary Herald
Read a review of ‘Heart Waters’ in Alternatives Journal