Winter Ranter

I live in Western Canada.

We have 4 seasons here: Spring, Summer, Fall and WINTER.

I've lived here all my life.

And guess what?! We get winter EVERY YEAR. I honestly can't remember a year that winter didn't come and stay for 4-5 months.

So, I ask my fellow Canadians; Why are you so surprised that it's a bit chilly out at this time of year? Were you born last night? I suspect not.

There was a western conference final today in our city for the CFL ( for those of you below the 49th parallel, that stands for Canadian Football League - which I actually prefer over the NFL but that's a different subject) Anyway, people were selling their tickets today because it was "too cold". Here's a newsflash: -15c is NOT too cold. It's just cold. Stop whining.

Talking about the weather is such a boring subject. Mostly because no matter how much you bitch and moan about it, it's not going to change. Winter is the "Monday" of seasons in Canada.

That said, let's stop bitching about Monday too.

Lovely

I woke up this morning, looked outside into the snowy street, made my way downstairs to feed the cats and grab a cup of tea. I opened up my twitter and saw a few really beautiful messages referencing me as well as one from a friend who was checking in. My heart warmed. I then opened my facebook and found an unexpected message from a friend I've recently reconnected with. Her message was in perfect timing with what I needed. My heart warmed some more. Then onto email where I found yet another message from my surrogate dad - "Pops", I call him. All the loving thoughts I received this morning were enough to make my heart explode with happiness.

I think about others all the time. I don't always tell them. I should.

What surprised me is that I don't think others think about me very often. Today proved me wrong. So, I want to thank all of the people who think of me and tell me. I also want to thank those people who think of me and don't tell me.

Today I walked around in the hug of your thoughts. Thank you for keeping me warm.

Short & Sweet

I'm overtired and a bit grumpy. So, what better time than to figure out what I'm grateful for?

Today I'm grateful for the following;

-The beauty of the first snowfall, and the fact that I have a warm winter jacket and cozy boots.

-When I come home, I am always greeted by at least one of my cats. It's nice to be loved unconditionally.

-Music. Always Music. All ways Music.

-My husband's quick wit. We laugh a lot.

-The trust of my friends. This is something I cherish immensely.

-Not having to be anywhere tomorrow morning.

-My bed, which is beckoning me.

Goodnight.

On GRANDparents

Grandparents are aptly named. They are Grand. At least mine were.

I have 3 sets of Grandparents: My father's parents, My mother's father and his 2nd wife ( the only surviving Grandparent I have left) and My mother's mother and husband.

I had a very special bond with my paternal Grandmother, even though I rarely saw her. She made great efforts to be connected to me. The mother of 6 boys, she was the ultimate care-giver. I lost her the summer before I began grade 4. I was devastated. My grandfather, her husband, had passed away when I was too small to be adversely affected. I do wish I had known him better.

My mom's father and 2nd wife were great to me too. I spent a great deal of my time with them when I was a young girl. My fondest memories of their house was my uncle's bedroom and his gerbils. I was fascinated with those rodents. My grandma also collected those Avon perfumes: the women whose torso came off to dispense the potent perfume inside. I also vividly remember those Christmas tree icicles that lit up and had liquid in them. Remember those? My surviving grandma is 84 and we just attended a wedding together - she was dancing up a storm. She's an absolute treasure.

The Grandparents I was the closest to were my Mom's mother and her husband. I spent every summer of the first 12 years of my life with them in hot, dry Saskatchewan where grandpa had 2 farms and a barber business, while grandma ran a successful accounting firm. I made really good friends there, learned to swim, had my first crush on a boy, and even started grade 1 there because my local school board was on strike that year.

These Grandparents were young when they started caring for me in the summer. I think they were in their mid/late 40s. But they were always young at heart. Grandma played the piano by ear, and Grandpa played in a polka band. They loved to dance. He never had any children of his own, so I held a special place in his heart. I felt more like a daughter to him than a granddaughter. He wrote me a song on his accordion - to this day, I regret not recording it or having him write it down. It saddens me to know I will never hear it again. I can't even remember what it sounds like. Their love of music was part of the glue that bonded them, as well as their love of laughter. I loved being with them. My grandma was a tremendous woman. There are no words to describe her that do her enough justice.

I feel like I knew all of these people quite well, but I could have known them better. I regret that I will never have the chance. I have to savor the memories of all of my Grandparents.

Last summer I had a dream about my Grandpa from Saskatchewan and my Dad's mother. It turns out it was a night that was right in the middle of the dates that they both passed away. I couldn't sleep so I got up and wrote this down....

Grandpa

A vision of you woke me

on the eve

of your death's anniversary

And with it

all of my memories

of you

So dignified, you were

Farmer's arms

Sparkling eyes, trouble maker

Wax paper sandwiches

and chocolate bars

in your worn metal lunchbox

Harvest Time

My sundress

complimented by your rubber boots

12 sizes too big

The dusty streets of the hamlet,

Playing marbles in the church pews,

The song you wrote for me

We were bonded

Not by blood

Yet, thicker than blood

You fell in your field

onto your bread and butter

Dignity lost

You disappeared before our eyes

Buried next to wheat sheafs

Dignity regained

Summer fallow

Luckenbooth, Mizpah & Love

From what I've been told, my heritage consists of English, Scottish and Norwegian. The evidence is certainly bountiful regarding the Norwegian heritage on my Mother's side. Both of her siblings, and ALL of their children ( and most grandchildren ) are very fair skinned, with almost white blonde hair. I got my thick dark hair and olive skin from my Father's side of the family. They are all dark haired descendants of the English, for the most part. The Scot heritage is my maternal grandmother's offering, even though her Norwegian heritage shone through most in the looks department.

I was inspired by a friend to write about a piece of jewellery that I had been given and it's significance. I went to my jewellery cabinet and retrieved a very pretty brooch I had been given by my great aunt on my mother's side. In the same small box I also found, wrapped in delicate tissue, a brooch my father had given me, which had come to me through his mother.

Until tonight, I had never really realized the significance of them both being held in the same box. Both of my Grandmothers have passed away. Both of them were incredibly special to me.

The brooch I originally went to retrieve is called a Luckenbooth. My great aunt gave it to me when I was about 11 years old. I wear it from time to time and it always makes me feel close to my maternal
grandmother. I suspect this piece is not an antique, but it holds meaning deeper because it came to me through 2 beautiful women.

Research tells me that the brooches were so called because they were sold from the locked booths on the Royal Mile adjacent to St. Giles Cathedral in Edinburgh, Scotland as early as the 1700s. Traditionally, these brooches were exchanged at marriage, and often put away until the first child was born. Although mine doesn't have these words inscribed "of earthly joys thou art my choice", the intention of the brooch is evident.

The other brooch in my cherished collection is a Mizpah brooch. My father gave it to me several years ago, along with many of his mother's possessions. I admired it, but have never worn it because I
recognized it was an antique. I'd hate to lose it, more so because it belonged to my paternal grandmother, and perhaps her own grandmother. The original pieces date back between 1889-1925. Of course, I treasure this one not because it's antique, but because it is a part of my family. On one side of the brooch ( which appears to have been a locket at one time) it says "Mizpah", the other, engraved by hand, reads "The Lord watch between me and thee when we are absent from one another". Although used mostly in the Victorian era when lovers were separated, they reemerged during WW1 when soldiers went away to war.

Unfortunately, I don't know the full history of either brooch in my possession, but this post has inspired my father and I to find out more about the history of ownership of the Mizpah brooch. I'm very excited. It gives us a chance to delve deeper into our history, and of the women in our past.

I am intrigued that these brooches, lying together in the same box, offer the same meaning on slightly different parallels. They are very romantic symbols. One for bringing lovers together, One for keeping
lovers safe while apart.

Tonight I will go to bed feeling closer to both of my wonderful Grandmothers, whom I miss very much.

Just a thought.....

Some people come into our lives to teach us a lesson

Others come in to enlighten us.

Some people teach us the lesson we need to learn, then they leave....

Others enlighten us, then they leave.

Some people stay and bear witness to the lesson, often learning something valuable from us....

Others stay and enlighten us, and are enlightened, over and over again.

Some people stay forever because they are the lesson....

Others stay forever because they are the light.

Copyright - Lana Wright 2010

The value of an opinion

In my profession, people pay me for my opinion and advice. Most of the time they take what I am saying and put my suggestions in motion. When I'm asked for advice or my opinion, my approach at work is to provide valuable information and hope that my clients take advantage of my experience.

Regardless, sometimes they do the exact opposite ( which is usually what they wanted to do anyway).

My parents are guilty of this too. They are in their golden years and I find that some of our roles are changing. I have opportunities to help them out, mostly by providing contacts or information I have that will save them time and money.

They usually do what they want.

This ticks me off. Rather, it DID. Until yesterday.

I'm in the market for a set of drums, so I polled my musician friends and people that I follow on Twitter who are musicians for their opinions. I received many opinions from experienced musicians. I sing and have piano experience, but in no way do I feel qualified to make an informed decision about a drum purchase.

Many brand names and suggestions on what to look for were gratefully received.

Before I move on, here is something that may be helpful to know about me: I really don't like to follow the status quo. I like to be unique and have unique things. For instance, when I bought my last car, I chose a Saab. At that time, very few people drove a Saab. So, even though I did my research and asked opinions of others, I had decided in advance that I was buying a Saab.

The same happened with the drums. I did some research and decided that I wanted to be different in this instance too. Go figure.

I found a brand that is well made, but not mainstream anymore. And before I got to the music store to look at them, I had already decided that was what I wanted. My best buddy, who is a drummer, approved initially so I felt pretty brilliant for coming up with this idea on my own. When I discovered that the kit wasn't to the precise specs I'd been told to look for, I waned for only a moment. I called my best bud and with this new information, he altered his endorsement. I considered it. For about a fraction of a second. :)

I left the store, without the drums, feeling a bit disappointed. My husband is helping me out and he took me ( very reluctantly ) to another store with many more brands of drums. The one set that caught my eye is made for a very well known and popular manufacturer ( out of the price range I wanted to spend), but if you know me, you'd know that it would be difficult for me to choose the popular choice. (I'm difficult, I know :) So, I looked around and had a few other options to choose from. The gent (a very accomplished drummer) helping me out told me to "buy whatever the fuck you want". He works on commission and told me the truth, or at least validated my position. Even though I won't likely buy my first drum kit from him, he will get my business for as long as he is in the business. I'll buy all of my accessories from him, and likely my next kit.

What is the value of an opinion? Well, it's just that. And everyone has one. If you ask for an opinion, listen to the answer and consider it. If you're asked for your opinion, don't take it personally if the person asking you does something different. It's human nature.

So, after all of that I've decided to go with my choice. After all, it was my idea.

:)

That's Life

I have the best intentions. For example, I signed up for NaBloPoMo and had every intention of blogging everyday.

I went 11 days without fail. But last night, I intended to post from my friend's house. When I got there I discovered that there was something incredibly serious happening in their family. Therefore, it was more important for me to be present and assist in any way I could than it was to blog. This is especially true for me since I write so much about being "present" and in the moment. I have to honor my values.

So, if I understand the rules of NaBloPoMo, I think I'm disqualified from winning any prizes or accolades, but that isn't the reason I'm participating.

I've challenged myself to continue on blogging for the rest of November and let the chips fall where they may.

That's life.

Love People, not things

"Love people, not things; use things, not people. "
— Spencer W. Kimball

I was talking to my husband today about how spoiled we are as a generation. As soon as the newest technology comes out, we all have to be the first person to have said new thing. And by "we", I really mean, everyone but me and a few select others. I'm serious. I think I used to be a collector of things, until I realized they serve no valuable purpose for me. It's not important to me to have the latest and greatest. I find pleasure in the things that I have. And more importantly, the people in my life.

I'm not sure when we became a throw away society, but people replace things in their life without having used up the full potential of item. For example, people rush out to get the new version of their cellphones while their current one is still in good condition. I think the same is true for the way we treat eachother sometimes.

We've started collecting people too. People focus on how many friends they have on Facebook and how many followers they have on Twitter. What is really more important is how you treat those friends or followers, or the ones dearest to you.

I think it's time we focused on Quality in our lives, not quantity.

Today is Remembrance day in Canada. And whether you support war or not, (I don't - at least not the current wars) people died believing they were doing so for our freedom. They perished so that we could have the latest and greatest iPhones. They died so we could talk to our friends on Facebook instead of spending time with them in real life.

Does that make you proud?

I'm sure not proud of that.

I'm going to ensure that I continue to try to focus on people and not things.

Won't you too?

Just Kidding

I love to laugh. I enjoy a good joke. To me, a good joke is intelligent, crafty, smart, clever. I also get a kick out of laughing at myself, and respect people who can laugh at themselves. I mean, let's face it, human beings are ridiculous sometimes, and can be ridiculously funny.

I do not appreciate jokes that are not funny. Especially those that are made at the expense of someone else. I'm not talking about jokes made about celebrities or certain pop-culture events or icons. I'm talking most specifically about passive-aggressive jokes. You know the ones....Bill says to Sarah "Nobody likes you. Haha, just kidding." or in email, text or social media form when someone laces a subtle insult with a winky face to pretend they are just kidding.

You know what? That is the lowest form of humor, in my opinion. One has to feel pretty shitty about themselves to use passive aggressive humor.

I have a large extended family. Some of my married-in family use passive aggressive humor at every family event we attend. Everything is an insult followed by a "just kidding". The interesting dynamic in this part of my extended family is the jealousy and score-keeping amongst the siblings. It's obvious to those of us who are not an original part of that family, but it still makes us uncomfortable to be around. I've even avoided social gatherings with this part of the family because I don't appreciate being around people who are so rude to one another. The people using this type of "humor" are some of the saddest, most envy driven and insecure people I have ever met. I think these types of character traits are a common thread through people that use P.A humor.

Here's a news bulletin for ya: the winky face/"just kidding" doesn't undo the damage of your insult, nor does it let you off the hook.

Think about it. You've been insulted. Immediately the person who lobbed the insult at you says "Just kidding!" How do you feel? Do you feel relieved that they were just kidding? I kind of doubt it...I bet that you're still feeling the sting of the insult. The damage is done and the perpetrator got to do what they intended: insulted you without the guilt.

I believe that if you thought enough to insult someone publicly, you meant it. Being all cute about it afterwards does not exonerate your bad behaviour. It's especially obvious when you continually insult someone and always follow it up with a "winky face".

The bottom line is that if you use this type of humor, you're a bit of an asshole. Keep your insults to yourself.

You're not funny.

And, I'm not kidding.

Energized

I went to bed last night feeling rather sick, and woke up feeling the same way.

I didn't have time to be sick today, though. I had 2 appointments I'd been looking forward to for so long. The first was my very first drum lesson, which was fantastic. The second was an appointment with a world renowned "energy worker" whom I see once a year. If I didn't see him today, I would have had to wait until next year. Missing that wasn't even an option for me.

So, I worked with my energy twice today. I moved my energy while discovering the very early stages of drumming-and of course I've attracted the perfect teacher for my lessons. He's awesome. He's starting me at the very, very, very beginning. For someone who likes to jump into things head first, I thought this would be hard, but I found it incredibly relaxing and stress-free. It felt good for the energy in my body to dictate how a sound would come out as an extension of my arms and legs into a drum beat. It was a very cool first step for me.

I also moved energy with my friend, Norman, the energy worker. I feel comfortable calling him my friend. Anyone who can look at you and know almost precisely what is going on for you is a friend in my books. I suppose the proper description was that I allowed him to move my energy. But, I'll take some credit for that too. Again, for someone who is usually ansty with a mind that goes 100 miles an hour, you'd think it hard for me to lie still for 45 minutes in silence. Again, I found this experience utterly magnificent and relaxing. The touch applied is very subtle, but it's different that having someone touch you in your regular routine of life. This touch is applied with love and intention and therefore often moves things in me which I regularly hold down or hide. Again, I call Norman a friend because I can be completely vulnerable with him and it's not shameful to have feelings about what is going on in your body. Rather, it's liberating and beautiful. He favored my right knee, which has been bothering me for about 9 months. I hadn't told him about this pain, because I had actually forgotten about it until he spent a good portion of our session applying his energy to it (I also usually focus on telling him what is going on for me emotionally, not physically before we begin). I only asked him about it afterwards and he said that there was an energy block around my knee. I'm sure even skeptics of energy work would have a hard time disputing that we are energetic creatures and when we are sick or hurt, it shows up energetically. Anyway, it was a great session and I was present for the entire experience which I am proud of my busy brain for allowing me to do.

Despite being a bit under the weather today, I really feel like today was one of the best that I've had in a long time.

I'm Energized again. Still.

Approaching Self Love with a Soft Heart - Guest post for Luke Adler Healing

I feel incredibly honored to have been asked by Luke to guest blog for this site. So much so that it actually paralyzed me. I wanted my post to be perfect and live up to the standards already set forth in his and other guest posts, so I ended up using that as a reason to procrastinate.

Then I remembered that this topic is about the Love Culture Revolution and self love, and thought, anything I write will be just exactly what needs to be said and read. And then, as part of my self love, I had to reiterate it to myself a couple of times before I believed it. :)

I want to express how important it is to proceed through life with a soft heart. And by that, I mean to be kind to oneself so that the kindness is easily passed on to others. Almost without conscious thought.

There are so many unhappy things happening in the world and so many people relate to others in harsh, unloving ways, often to get their point across. What they may not realize is that their strategy may actually be having the reverse affect on the person/people on the receiving end of the message. They are not treading softly through life.

Please don’t misunderstand. I am not suggesting that we all walk around like pushovers and whisper our thoughts, beliefs, feelings. In fact, I’m suggesting the opposite. I’m suggesting that we proceed and proclaim/sing/speak our thoughts, beliefs and feelings. I’m suggesting that we proceed by checking and rechecking our value systems and standing up for our beliefs.

I’m suggesting we do this through love.

Do you realize that when love is behind a message, it’s almost entirely impossible for it to have a sharp edge and impact? Think about a mother who loses her child at the mall for a minute or two. When she finds her child, she may yell and cry and scold the child. But most often, those actions come from a place of deep love and fear of loss, not anger or control. Children aren’t often scarred emotionally from that experience because they can sense on a cellular level that their mom was simply acting out of love. It’s subtle, but obvious to our sub-conscious.

That said, if you can honestly share your opinion with others while coming from a place of love, you’re message will be received. This doesn’t guarantee that the recipient will agree with your opinion but they are disarmed and will more likely consider your stance.

Your acceptance of their opinion, same or different than yours, would come from a place of love. It is possible to accept and love someone with different political, spiritual and other values we hold dear, when you approach it with a soft heart.

The ultimate goal is to enrich our love of self in order to increase our enjoyment of our life. So, what are other ways we can do this, besides approaching others with a soft heart?

One thing I have noticed about many people is that when they criticize another, they are often focusing on a trait that they don’t particularly accept about themselves. It’s rather interesting to see this play out. The man who calls another manipulative or controlling often displays those traits himself. The woman who focuses on another woman’s insecurities and judges her for it, often suffers from insecurity herself.

So, let’s reframe it.

As part of the Love Culture Revolution and our quest for self-love, let’s start complimenting others on their “beauties”. Beauties being admirable character traits, talents, physical beauty, inner beauty....you name it.

For some people it’s awfully hard to give someone else a compliment, for fear that it diminishes their own favorable traits. That may stem from a place of insecurity. For example, a woman may have self talk that says “If I point out my girlfriend’s talent, the people around me may focus on her and not me”, so she refrains from giving out a very deserving compliment. Interestingly enough, if she were to check in with herself, I would guess that her holding back would actually not feel congruent. We inherently feel the need to empower others but our own limitations often get in the way.

The gift is this: By empowering others, by complimenting them, appreciating them, acknowledging them, we are empowering, complimenting, appreciating and acknowledging ourselves. And once we begin to believe in the beauty of ourselves, we will continue to want to pass that love on to others. It will become natural. And as the love is given out and received, it grows and grows and grows.

Don’t worry about giving away all of your love. Love expands and the more that you give the more that comes back to you.

It really starts at “home” and home is where your heart is. Start there and work your way outwards.

Parties for your Problems

Before you leave me an angry comment about this topic, please understand that I have attended support groups. I was addicted to support groups and self-help seminars for years. I don't state my opinions about things unless I feel I have the experience to back up my opinions. I am also not bringing this topic up to offend anyone.

I'm just hoping that people will look at things from a different angle.

I used to have a tendency to attract alcoholics into my life. Some of these alcoholics play(ed) a large and important role in my life, so I turned to Al-Anon to help me sort out how to deal with the situations that arose by having these people in my life. Admittedly, I go back once in awhile if I suffer a crisis with an alcoholic loved-one. However, I usually only go once. I don't make a habit of it.

Here's why: although I often learn something new or am reminded that I am not to blame for my loved-ones' condition, I usually have to sit through the same sad stories, complaining, and others feeling very sorry for themselves before I can get to the substance of why I am there. By that time I'm utterly exhausted and end up leaving very sad and often worse than when I came.

I've started to realize that support groups are like "parties for your problems". Almost every human condition has a support group. There are support groups for survivors of cancer, there are support groups for parents with troubled kids, there are support groups for battered women, for addictions etc. I do think that some of these groups are actually not bad - certainly where people are sharing and problem solving. Unfortunately, I've never been to one of those meetings.
If more time was spent on the solution, rather than the problem, I would endorse support groups 100%. That doesn't seem to be the norm, though.

My experience with support groups is that everyone takes a turn telling their story (it rarely changes from week to week, because the story teller hasn't done anything to change the story), and there are tissues and tears, some laughter, and usually one person who dominates the entire evening with their problems without regard to the time limits in place or the fact that others are there for support too.

As I said, I have rarely come away with a solution for my issue, not to mention I've often felt more alone when I've left support groups. That, in it's definition, would be the opposite of feeling supported.

My other problem with support groups is that I am a firm believer in getting more of what you think about. So, by commiserating, complaining, talking more about it, people are actually giving these issues more power. If you've survived cancer, why go to a support group to support cancer? A woman that I have a lot of respect for, and who has had breast cancer resulting in a double mastectomy told a story about her first (and last) time at a breast cancer support group. Essentially, she had the same feelings as I do; why are these people sitting around talking about breast cancer? Why are you letting having had breast cancer define who you are? And lastly she asked out loud "why aren't there any groups for survivors of the swine flu?". She was politely asked not to come to any more meetings. I'm pretty sure that not going to those "support" groups have been more beneficial for her health and well-being than attending them.

The point is this: whatever you are going to get support for happened or is happening to you, Talking about it and giving it more power and momentum by simply focusing on it may not help....it may actually hurt.

I commend anyone who makes a step to look for help, support, guidance. I just ask that you carefully consider what you are getting out of going to these parties for your problems.

I used to go to support groups and self-help seminars for several reasons. One of which is that I used to get something out of commiserating with others. I got to complain and feel sorry for myself. Seeing someone feel compassion for me felt worthy. Sometimes it reinforced that my problems were far less than other people.

But I rarely left feeling better.

I really don't want to be surrounded by sadness, and people who feel sorry for themselves. I want to be around people who are walking, not talking.

Yes, we have to acknowledge our problems before we can do something about it. But do something about it. Stop talking about it. Stop giving your problems a safe haven in your life to thrive. I feel like support groups offer a form of procrastination and are often addicting in themselves. What would you do every Tuesday night at 8 pm if you stopped letting this problem define who you are? I can see how that prospect might frighten some people. It could be easier just to do the same thing and know where you fit in, even if it's not healthy.

Maybe we could change the name of support groups to "alliances", and change the focus to supporting a solution, instead of supporting the problem or wallowing in past experience. Looking forward is the only way you can move forward.

You can let your bad experiences change and affect you but don't ever let them DEFINE you.

Of all the people I'd like to impress....

I used to really worry about what people thought of me. Then I learned something that made it impossible for me to worry about what others think of me. So, for the last 12 years I have continued on with my life without that concern. Now, of course I haven't been reckless with my integrity, I just know that I cannot please everyone all of the time.

That said, there is one person that I have always hoped to earn the love and respect of. He joined my family when I was 9 years old. He is my Brother.

We are half-siblings. We share a Father. However, ever since we could explain our relationship to others, it has always been "This is my brother"/ "This is my sister". There are no halves about it.

Because we didn't grow up together full-time, we have never fought. I don't even think there are any pent-up feelings of hurt, resentment or jealousy. I'm sure if we lived together full-time we would have created a typical brother/sister-love/hate relationship. Instead, we created a friendship.

My brother got married in May. I think I've only seen him twice since then. It's okay because we both know that we can always rely on one another. Obviously, I'd like to see him more often. Yesterday, he sent me an email that brought tears to my eyes. The essence of the email was that my brother wants to spend more time with me. I emphatically agreed. I'm so happy that I am the kind of person that my brilliant, loving, amazing brother wants to spend time with.

I've never doubted that he loves me. It's just so nice to hear it.

I wrote this for my brother last year. It seems fitting to share it.....

Brother

Do you see it?

The greatness that you are?

Like a huge bright light

not easily contained

intangible

Amaze me

you do

But I'm not surprised

You are my teacher

taking me back

before bitterness and

defeat ate away at my heart

You restore me

my salvation

Do you know?

You are my muse

my mentor

my blood

Do you feel it?

My overwhelming

love, joy

admiration

respect

It's yours.

Do Nice Guys Really Finish Last?

I have several single male friends. I spend time with them because they really rock my world. They are wonderful, talented, smart, handsome, generous.....all of the qualities females claim to want in a mate.

Yet, they are still single.

The major complaint I hear from my male friends is that the girls they are trying to date are "flaky" or "playing mind games".

Hear this: No relationship worth being in, romantic or otherwise should have mind games. It's time to grow up and walk away from people that want to keep you guessing about how they feel about you or what they want. It's absolutely unnecessary for people to play around with your emotions. This goes for ANY relationship you are in, by the way ( platonic, family, romantic).

Think about your past relationships. Did you ever have a "psycho" girlfriend? One that was insecure, dropped absolutely everything to spend time with you, controlling, jealous....cried on the phone a lot, made mountains out of molehills?

Yes?

Then you know THAT side of how women can be. You don't want that, right? So, why would you want the opposite: someone that cancels plans all of the time and really could care less what you are doing or whether they see you or not? Obviously you want a confident woman ( and if you don't, that's a whole other ball of "twisted" wax) and someone who isn't controlling or jealous. But, we all want someone who WANTS to spend time with us. There is a happy medium between the psycho and the non-caring. It's called a mature, rational and loving human being.

Hear this: If they cancel the first date, give them a pass. If they continually change the details of dates or flake out on you at the last minute THEY AREN'T INTERESTED IN YOU.

They are likely more interested in the fact that you are interested in them. AND they likely have something/someone else they are exploring the possibility of at the same time. Stringing you along as a consolation prize has no consequence to them.

People will show you who they are and how they will treat you very early in your relationship with them. PAY ATTENTION.

There's a saying that "nice guys finish last". And you know what? If you continue to enable these women to play games with you, you will finish last. You will finish alone.

The myth that women are not like men when it comes to dating is FALSE. Just like there are wonderful men who are loyal, honest, forthcoming with their feelings, and direct, there are just as many women who are disloyal, dishonest, and play games.

Somewhere along the line, women decided that they could date like a man and have sex like a man. You need to follow your gut instinct, not your penis instinct. Learn the difference.

If you are a kind man, these women will take advantage of you. If you let them.

You will not change another human being. You cannot make someone fall in love with you. You cannot trick them into loving you by engaging in mind games with them.

People decide early on if you are special to them, and they want to spend time with you.

You will know it. Women have a tendency to binge on relationships early on. They will move mountains to spend time with you and make you feel like the only man on the planet.

When that happens, pay attention. It's not a trick.

Hear this: Stop spending time with people who don't make you a priority.

Light Bulbs and Glass Balls

I used to be a workaholic.

I used to spend a lot of time on my cell phone checking emails, trolling facebook and talking to people on twitter while I was in the company of people I loved; friends & family.

I knew it was kind of rude, but they understood. They know that my profession is time consuming and doesn't really have any set hours. So they let it slide.

I realized that while at my Dad's I would leave the room to babysit my phone and I would come back part way through a fun conversation and feel left out. Why the hell should I have felt left out? I took myself out.

Imagine my brain is like a light switch with a dimmer feature. Let's assume the light was turned on but when it came to my issue of being attached to my phone, the dimmer switch of awareness was set quite low. There was a light glow of sight for me when it came to this issue.

As I realized I was missing out on things going on without me, even when I was in the room, the dimmer switch slowly moved up the slide, bringing a little bit of awareness with it each time. More and more, the dimmer would move up and things would come into sight much easier and clearer until I decided that enough was enough. I decided that if I committed to being with someone, I wanted to be with them. That meant, as few distractions as possible. I was pretty sure I was committed to that value and then one day, while I was practicing my new found habit of being present I was with some people I had met through social media. If anyone was going to be lenient about social behaviors and short attention spans, it was this group of people. Admittedly, I checked my social outlets a few times during our time out, but when one of the people I was with pulled out a phone charger and plugged it into the wall in the restaurant, so that they could keep texting and tweeting people that weren't with us, the dimmer switch went all the way to the top of the slide. The lights came on for me fully.



I was a bit shocked that this person didn't value the company of the people they were with enough to just let their phone die and be with the rest of us. I was a bit disgusted actually. And then I thought back to all the times I had done the same thing, or something similar.

If I, as someone exposed to social media, and a heavy user of the medium was appalled at this action of another, imagine how my family and friends felt when I halfheartedly participated in conversations and get togethers.

Since that night, I've done my best to be totally present with the people I am with. I admit, I am not perfect at this yet, but more often than not I leave my phone in my purse while out with the important people in my life. It's not always easy, especially when they reach for their phone to check what calls and emails they have missed, but I am trying.

If you are my friend or family member and are reading this, please know that I am conscious of this shortcoming of mine and I am working on it. I value your time. Time lost with my loved ones is time that can't be replaced.

I was at a seminar last week, and the facilitator shared this quote by Brian Dyson, the CEO of Coca-Cola.

"Imagine life as a game in which you are juggling some five balls in the air. You name them – work, family, health, friends and spirit and you’re keeping all of these in the air. You will soon understand that work is a rubber ball. If you drop it, it will bounce back. But the other four balls – family, health, friends and spirit are made of glass. If you drop one of these, they will be irrevocably scuffed, marked, nicked, damaged or even shattered. They will never be the same. You must understand that and strive for balance in your life. How?"

This has stuck with me ever since. It's so true.

It's important to take care of those glass balls. They are irreplaceable.

Is it possible to be Extraordinary if you are merely Ordinary?

I've been flying high the past few days. The trademark application was submitted today for the new company I am starting, which means I am fully committed to creating an amazing business that focuses on the pursuit of personal growth and giving.

Yes, I was on cloud nine.

Until I heard a "motivational speech" today.

This speech did the exact opposite to me than I think was intended by the person giving it. After hearing it, I was deflated. I felt like what I was about to do wasn't going to make a difference or be extraordinary.

Here's the reason: I haven't suffered a lot of great adversity in my life.

You probably thinking "that doesn't make sense" and you're right, but give it some thought; most success stories have a theme about how the successful person suffered great adversity before accomplishing whatever amazing feat they were known for. Think about it. Seriously. Stop reading this and recall any success story you've heard lately.....



So many people that I know get extra credit for the things that they do because they've survived some setback, whether it be bankruptcy, a death in the family, illness, homelessness, growing up poor... You name it. Everyone has a story. We all do.

I have a story too. I have had hurts and setbacks in my life, but here is the difference with me. I do not let those experience DEFINE me. Geez, I've had some pretty shitty stuff happen to me, but I've always looked at it by understanding that it's part of my journey. I took the licks and solved the problems I was having, took the lesson or lifestyle change I needed and moved on. The things that happen in my life affect me and change me, but they do not define me. I would never give that much power to something outside myself. Ever.

I'm not taking away from anyone's experience or anything that has happened to them, but you have to admit that it's hard not to let your experiences define you when they get you extra attention. It's difficult to let go of having had cancer, or having been broke, or losing a loved one when you let it define you.

So, when I see a success story with an extraordinary person who has done something amazing and they tell their story of adversity first, I feel deflated. I feel that I don't even have the right to try to shine because I've led a fairly "uneventful" life. Now, that is seriously screwed up. I realize that.

Just because you have accomplished something-anything should be just as revered as if you had the same result but had come from a place of serious challenge. I think that anyone who makes big strides should seen as successful. Because let's face it....anytime you succeed or make gains, you have come from a place that was less to begin with. That's why we call it success, progress, or making a difference.

I've made a decision. I'm going to go ahead and do my amazing things anyway. I'm going to make waves in this world. I'm going to prove that you can be simply inspired and do without having a sad story to back it up.

I don't really think anyone reading this will understand my point. And I am sure that many will disagree or feel like I am downplaying their problems. I'm not. I just want the world to focus on the positive things too.

I also believe that when you hold onto bad experiences and let them fuel you, you give them power. We don't need to give sickness, sadness or any thing else that is horrible in this world any more power than it already has.

Please do me a favor. Recognize someone this month for making strides, success or a difference, regardless of their past experiences.

Changing my mind

I usually exist in a world that is quite positive. I believe that life is good and with an optimistic attitude comes a pleasant experience. This has worked for me all of my life. I am always aware of my self-talk and do my best to catch myself when I'm not thinking in the right direction to achieve my goals.

Last week I totally forgot to do that.

Monday was grey and cold. Miserable. And so, I decided that I was also grey, cold and miserable. And guess what? I was. All week. Five whole days!

Normally, I recognize that I'm in a bad mood and give myself a timeline to "get over it". Last week I just sat in the mud. Stuck. I wanted to be down and dirty. I wanted to be unlovable.

I avoided people. I broke plans. I just felt fucking sorry for myself. I actually thought about running away. Literally. Instead of turning north off the main highway that takes me home, I was tempted just to keep driving west. Into the mountains. Into the ocean, if that's what it took. No, I'm not suicidal. I just wanted a fresh outlook. A fresh start. I wanted to get clean.

On Saturday, I got my fresh start. The sun was out. I found some good music to listen to. There was a spring in my step. Nothing had changed in my life, except for my mind.

I decided that I was going to approach my challenges with a new perspective. I was enthusiastic about work and my relationships. I wanted to reach out and talk to people, to make them feel important. And in turn, I felt good. I appreciated the things that people did for me and did things for others that they could appreciate. I was impeccable with my word.

People that I love reached out and found me. Many of them had no idea I was falling. Yet, they were there. It was awesome that they were intuitive and felt my need. (I'm not good at asking for help).

Yesterday, I cleaned off my desk. Rearranged it entirely. Placed my goals in front of me, in writing. Checked of my "to do" list. Made another. Took a deep breath and realized that I had changed my mind about how things were going to look in my immediate future.

Today I feel new.

There's an old saying that changing one's mind is a woman's prerogative.

I agree, and I beg to differ.

In fact, it is everyone's prerogative.

You can change your mind.

Musical Notes or Majestic Mountains?

I had the recent good fortune of attending the investiture of a family friend of mine into the Order of Alberta. The inductees included our friend, who had started a special needs school, a world renowned paleontologist, a celebrated Native artist, several advocates for human interests, and even our former Provincial Premiere. It was quite a remarkable day for me to be included in.

The most remarkable event of the day for me was meeting the sons of the Paleontologist. One of them sat beside me at dinner, the other across from me. Both arrived at the table smiling, warm and approachable. I noticed that there was something a little different about the brother across the table. As he made efforts to introduce himself and find out about the women on either side of him, I realized that he is deaf. This did not stop him from being one of, if not the most social person at the table. I was immediately drawn to him and his enormous smile. He made his way around the table in conversation as best he could and finally asked me my name. I suddenly started to "sign" my name using the sign language alphabet. I was shocked that I did this, as I hadn't used sign language in over 20 years. Yet, all of a sudden my ego disappeared and I attempted to communicate with him, despite how awkward I looked. He had inspired me within 30 seconds of him arriving at the table.

I enjoyed the conversation I had with the hearing brother. We discussed his schooling and occupation, which surprisingly didn't include paleontology,(he'd had enough exposure to that vocation as a child) but my favorite past-time; music. So, with this brother, I also developed an instant kinship.

I am very sensitive to people being included in things, especially if they are at a disadvantage to enjoy an gathering. Throughout dinner, we all communicated with the deaf brother easily. After dinner there were 8 speeches, which took about 90 minutes. Having asked the hearing brother if his sibling was born deaf or developed it later, he informed me that the disability was from birth and his brother was not able to hear at all. I realized how boring it may seem to a person who cannot hear or read the lips of the people giving the speeches. I felt bad for him, but when I looked over and caught his eye several times, he had a huge smile on his face. He radiated joy the entire night.

I learned from his brother, the musician, that his deaf sibling was an amazing "Rock Band" drummer, and had a complete drum set with cymbals and 2 kick drums! I imagine his ability to focus on the challenge of playing the drums, without being distracted by a singer or guitarist, coupled with his enthusiasm, made him excel at a task most would reserve for a hearing person. I'm sure that there is also a vibrational feedback that he gets when playing, but his ability is undeniable.

The hearing brother asked me the oddest question near the end of dinner. He asked "If you could choose between being blind or deaf, which would you choose?". Without any hesitation, I answered "I'd rather be blind. If I couldn't hear music, I really don't think I could survive." I think he felt the same way. However, two and a half weeks later that question has lingered. My answer has volleyed back and forth over that period of time.

After pondering it, and asking others the same question, I really don't know what I would choose. Well, that's not entirely true....I would choose neither.

One person answered me by saying "being blind would be scary." And I have to agree, although, would it be scary if being blind was all you knew and you could talk to people, hear music, and hear someone say "I love you"? I don't know. Hearing music is all I can think about.

Then I realized that being deaf would only be terrible for me if I hadn't heard music before. If I developed the inability to hear, but had heard music in my life, I would be okay. I wouldn't be perfect, but I would survive. I could see things that jarred a memory and therefore a song that I could hear in my head, or knowing the words and melody, could even sing.

I'm very visual. Eye contact is important to me. Smiles are important to me. Body language is important to me. You can't hear some one's eye's or see their posture. I think sight would be crucial to my enjoyment of life. I live near the mountains. I cannot imagine not being moved by the majesty they exude. I don't think you can hear that. You have to see it to understand.

I think now I would choose to be deaf over blind.

My new friend has taught me that you can hear music even when you can't hear music. And that's all I need.

Thank you, D.