Raw and Fierce

I met one of my best friends a little over nine years ago.  Our paths intersected because she had breast cancer. I will never forget the day we first spoke. It was early evening and she called me at home -around the same time as the predictable tele-marketers would start their dinner time barrage.   I had no idea who she was at the time, but I was relieved that she didn't want to clean my ducts. Turns out, my soon-to-be friend  was a "cheer mom". Her daughter was the new, talented athlete that started training at Sam's cheer gym.
After exchanging some polite formalities, the words she spoke were so direct and unvarnished that they still sting a little.  "I have Breast Cancer. If Julia is going to stay on the team, I will need help getting her to practice."  I felt the air leave my lungs and a surge of adrenaline race through my veins. Of course I could help! The courage to speak such a frightening truth with that level of candor was remarkable to me. I KNOW I would have bubble wrapped my story. I would have struggled with asking a stranger for help - because I wanted to be "that mom", who needed nothing. Getting help was like giving in...until I  heard this woman speak! She sounded like a warrior. She commanded respect and not pity. She dispelled any myth I had about seeming weak if you ask for something. Little did I know, that our four minute phone call, would cause a magnitude 8 paradigm shift that proved critical to my emotional survival almost a decade later.
 I believe everyone comes into our lives for a reason. Nothing validates my theory more than my own experience with Breast Cancer. Almost 10 years after this friend came into my world because of that horrid disease, I found myself leaning on her experience,  relying on her to have my back , and modeling her "raw" warrior-like attitude! My typical "don't let anyone into my darkness" mindset was reframed because I watched her redefine "darkness" -  and that brought tremendous relief during challenging times. I'm sure our purpose in each others' story is still unfolding, but I know it transcends carpools. Our families quickly became friends. We traveled together,  raised our families together, said goodbye and "welcome home" . Today we even work together! This friendship must be part of some master plan because the people we bring into each others' lives, the experiences we share and the dramatically different lights we shine on common situations make us stronger, better people. I tore a page out of her playbook. I asked  for help. I faced the demons head on and spoke directly  to those I knew could make a difference.  These new skills serve me well, and I strongly recommend them, but,  today I am not reflecting on the importance of "telling it like it is" or "asking for help" when faced with adversity -  I am writing about the value of paying attention to every relationship at every intersection of  your personal journey. 


People impact and inspire in the most unexpected and powerful ways.  Sometimes the connection takes decades to understand, and other times it's blatantly obvious.  My dear friend came into my life while the very chapter I'm now "shamelessly plagiarizing" was being created in her reality! I can't accept  that it's a coincidence - so I started to take inventory of all the people who've parachuted into my life over the years, from the hockey families who would share stories in the stands early Sunday morning to kid's teachers, neighbours, work colleagues or the person in the next seat  on a long flight.  Sure enough, I noticed an interesting pattern;  my life's path is peppered with interactions that either foreshadow or lean on my highest highs or lowest lows. We met a family through hockey whose son sustained a life threatening head injury many years after Mark survived his traumatic brain injury and battled his way back to health. Mark's story became a lifeline of hope  during their dark and terrifying time. Our dear friends' daughter was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes 20 years after our oldest son began his journey with the condition, and we were able to calm the fears that parents naturally have. Common experiences are pretty typical when you've  lived in the same, tight knit community for decades, but being able to hear and appreciate  subtle life lessons, years before you need them is where magic and mystery live. Since my breast cancer experience, I have modified a few things in my world, but no change has been  more profound than starting to pay closer attention to the people and their stories.  I ask more engaging questions assuming everyone crosses my path for a reason. I don't try and connect the dots - I just let the puzzle pieces fall - and I organize them as the picture takes shape. I also try and add value - believing that some day, my journey might mirror someone else's - and my little nuggets could have life changing meaning. The more I explore my crazy notion, the more examples come to mind. Hundreds in fact! It's almost as though the universe creates a magnetic pull that causes the right combination of people to cross paths at some point in life's journey. Even if the connection seems innocuous - a casual chat on the plane or in the waiting room -  sitting beside a friend of a friend at a football game, these exchanges seem to have purpose. Whether you need each other now or ten years from now, the people and the experiences they share are profoundly relevant.  My mini epiphany has caused me to adjust three things: the way I listen - even during the most random encounters. The way I share - knowing my words can also make a difference some day, and the way I edit my "circle".


"Ahhhh my circle" - I feel peace in just imagining it. That group of family members and friends that can always be counted on - to have my back, to tell me the truth, to never judge - to laugh with, cry with, be candid around - and unconditionally love. We have had enough bumps in our road to know who "our circle" is.  There are exactly 22 people in it,  After major life events, I tend to take stock of my circle and gently carve out some space. I have, over my 52 years tried to distance myself from people who feel toxic or energy-zapping because their attitudes cast a negative shadow on my path. However, over the last few months, as I become more deliberate in my awareness of the way we support each other in this life,  and of how healthy and uplifting it is to be both a source of positive energy and a consumer of it,   I realize that my vow to carve some relationships out and cast them away might be counterintuitive.  What if these people also have lessons to teach? What if I have something to offer that might recalibrate their roadmap? Sounds like a selfish virtue of getting "filled up" through recognizing someone else's pain, but there's no question that toxic people are sad, lonely, broken - and that helping in some way is good for the spirit.  This sounds so basic and obvious for a grown up, but it isn't. Relationships are messy. People are complicated. Sometimes their negative spirit seeps into our world and we just want to bail.  Some people drain us completely, and we come away from conversations feeling empty.  I don't want to be sucked into the vortex of someone else's storm! Now what?
 My epiphany as this breast cancer journey unfolds is that our strength to fight any physical and emotional battle is fueled not only by the resolve and determination hardwired into our female spirit, but also by the energy of people in our inner circle. "Our people". Max out the power of that circle. Be deliberate about who's in it and let them fill you up every day. Do what you can do to shine your positive light and love on as many of your people as you can. That power will often give you the ability to hear, guide and, most important, learn from the folks outside the circle who struggle to escape their negative story.
I realize that I am blessed to  have my people! The trusted few who know me at my most vulnerable A circle of dear friends and family members whose value in my world needs no path to discovery - it is apparent every single day. They give me the strength to reconcile the other relationships. I have started to understand that I can't expect every "friendship" to reach the standard of "my people". I can't expect every conversation to bring profound wisdom, laughter, joy or love.  But what I have started to discover is that life lessons can be buried in the shadows of every encounter. That even Eyore can bring something to the party. Maybe I can be a source of sunshine, Maybe I can be reminded that my life is pretty good.  I have not mastered my ability to understand the purpose each character in my story brings. I have just started to realize that every character does play a purposeful role and if I skim over some of them, I might be missing out on pretty important lessons, so,  I listen, I share and I know that only a handful will ever reach the standards of  "my people" - so my expectations no longer cloud my ability to engage. In the past - you were either "in" or "out". Today, there's a little extra effort expended.  It's not easy some days, so I think back to that phone call  almost 10 years ago, That woman. Raw, fierce and full of lessons that I had no idea even existed - let alone ones that would become ingrained in my daily life! What if I missed out on that  opportunity to add to "my people circle"  in such an awe inspiring way?  And what if  there's another encounter some day that has the same potential? Life's too precious to miss out - so I've started to tune in to every frequency on the dial - sometimes I'm disappointed, but often times, I find a buried puzzle piece that I'd like to add to my collection, believing that sometime it will create the picture I need to see in the moment I need to see it - maybe in another 10 years!

Unwritten

Life is a journey - so the cliché goes. There are mountains to climb and forks in the road, but one step at a time, we travel along our path. I thought about the "journey" and decided that my analogy is different. Maybe it's my passion for literature, or my respect for the power of the  "written voice", but I see life as a storybook. Perhaps a novel, that captures our heart, takes us on an epic adventure, terrifies and then calms us. Characters come and go in perfect cadence as the chapters unfold, and the loose ends weave together. Everyone has a purpose. Every experience fits into the storyline eventually. When I read great pieces of fiction, I try to understand how symbols, people and events from early chapters find relevance later on. Typically, I get it wrong. It's only when I stop overthinking, and trust that everything will make sense eventually, that I thoroughly appreciate the brilliance of the piece.


My life's story prompts similar reactions: Why this turn of events? How does this fit with chapter 2004? Do these main characters have a deeper purpose? What should I learn this time that I missed earlier? How many chapters are left to figure it all out? 


My instinct and experience tell me to stop analyzing, Enjoy the story, trust that it will all make sense.  My rational brain can't help but ask "what if I am missing something? What if I am supposed to contribute to a brilliant plot twist? What if these moments are invitations to write a new ending? I am not just the spectator and the "reader" - I am co-author at minimum, and while I can't go back and re-write earlier chapters, I can  influence what's next - at least a little. Damn!  It's hard to collaborate with the universe!  Am I foreshadowing a new chapter  by making certain choices? Am I responding to storylines or are they responding to me? Maybe there's a little bit of both going on. Law of attraction meets pure fate.




I remember one of my girlfriends saying - The universe only gives you what you can handle. As those words washed over me, I felt somewhat offended. My life was golden. I remember thinking "I have five amazing kids, a great husband, healthy loving  parents, a career that I love, good friends, nice house,...crap! I guess I'm weak. I guess I can't handle very much. I sure wasn't dealt the hand that some people have to face! But hold on!  I didn't consider my husband's life threatening accident and subsequent traumatic brain injury as the universe testing my metal. For 10 years, we hunkered down as a family and fought for his successful recovery. I didn't even factor in our struggles with juvenile diabetes or childhood epilepsy or premature birth complications!  I escaped a bad relationship as a young woman,, spent my fair share of time in a court house and had a few financial setbacks along the way. Looking back over fifty two years,  I see now that  my "rainbows and unicorns"  cloak  was so convincing that even I forgot the magnitude of our challenges. I didn't deny, or avoid them. I went into "stealth" mode and dealt with personal matters privately, retaining my shield of optimism for the outside world. I wrote my story through the lens of positivity,  making a compelling case that things were always ok. Looking back, no  matter what curveball a new chapter had in store,  I would edit the flavor - casting light on some of the darker moments,  being true to the theme that my life is rosy. Today, I see that the universe has been testing my strength all along, and has allowed me to develop a powerful voice in my "story". 


What if,  the scene where I took offense to "the universe only gives you what you can handle"  statement was foreshadowing this next chapter? What if the universe responded with "oh ya - try this".  What if  it's time to peel back the layers, remove the "Pollyanna"  filters and admit that life sucks sometimes! A radically different point of view for a person who has spent her entire life focused on silver linings. A person who can't ask for help because she's invested so much time convincing the world that everything is awesome! A person who couldn't say the word cancer for days after diagnosis and who wouldn't even acknowledge the need to recover after surgery.


Looks like my crazy co-author has issued a challenge: change your voice, get real and in doing that, you will come to experience the honest beauty of family and friendship. Through a more vulnerable lens you can see the pure goodness of people in your life,  and appreciate the subtle richness of each moment.  So I will. In fact, I have already started. My next blog will be devoted to the emotional and physical Breast Cancer roller coaster, with a view to helping other women find their strength and voice. Raw, fierce and powerful - we prepare for a chapter that has yet to be written.

The Perfect Dance

It has been years since I have hung out in this space. Not 2 or 3 years - but almost a decade of delinquency. Enough time for change to take hold and transform the "normal" life I once lived to a new normal on so many levels! Globally,our world order has changed. Isis was a comic book character last time I was here. The once-little Millennials are coming of age and informing our social consciousness, but, on November 8th, 2016 their idealism couldn't transcend American anger, and as a result, Donald Trump is President-elect, challenging the norms of "correctness" world wide. This strange, new political landscape isn't all that has changed since my last visit to this virtual journal. My kids - they've grown up! The lovely, organized chaos of my hockey and soccer mom life has given way to the gratifying awareness that Mark and I have raised good people. My college and university-educated men and woman are successful, loving, decent humans, with strong family ties and unshakable values. I live in the same house with the same spouse and same circle of dear friends as I always have - but when I look back at the 25 blog posts I conceived so many years ago, everything else about my life today feels so different. Mark's accident and journey to wellness no longer define our limitations or our hopes. Mark has recovered and has found a balance of life and work. Sometimes we topple over, but most times we are ok. I am no longer focused on keeping ten balls in the air, driven by the magic of optimism and the terror of failure. As forty-something gave way to 52, a slow transformation took place that, as I look back in my entries, feels even bigger than all of the global changes combined. Surprisingly, I don't recall a single epiphany that led to change. On reflection, there were many small moments and tiny realizations that gave me reason to pause, connect some dots and make minor adjustments. The subtlety of my personal "evolution" makes it impossible to pinpoint specific new behaviours or perspectives. It is only when I look back over long periods of time that I notice how dramatically different my attitude is today. I believe I've learned a new dance, and am compelled to share some of the moves. I have learned that optimism doesn't mean "pollyanna perfect". I have learned that imperfection can be charming and can open the door to doing and being so much more. I have learned that my once unshakable shell is less a sign of strength than are vulnerability and inquisitiveness. None of these lessons came overnight. They landed in layers and slowly took hold. When I was managing a hockey team, soccer team, seven schedules, a career that required extensive travel and a husband who was recovering from a traumatic brain injury, my dance was strained because I wanted to portray the perfect story: when the doorbell rings, we must have a spotless home and fresh baked cookies. My marriage is like a romantic fairytale. It's not ok to make mistakes in the parenting department. Asking for help is a sign of weakness. Smile, push, dance! Time and circumstance brought new people and moments into my life. People who already lived by the lessons I had yet to learn. Situations that didn't allow the opportunity to fake perfect. With this rich combination came the inevitable realization that people who matter don't care as much about how things "seem" as how things really "are" - and so the new choreography began and I learned that my natural optimism - my cup being half full, isn't the same as a rosy picture filled with rainbows and unicorns. Learning that I can be human and "messy" without having to compromise my positive outlook gave me permission to acknowledge less-than- positive experiences in my life, and opened the door to a new repertoire of moves. Today,I live in a world where the dance between optimism and realism doesn't require painfully straddling two hemispheres. I can be an optimist without compromising what is real and true - and without feeling that the "imperfect" has to hide behind a sunny disposition. Today, I spend more time laughing at my faults, expressing my fears and celebrating lessons learned from screw ups. Friendships are more authentic as we pull back the curtain and share more of what's inside. Little did I know, that as all of these lessons slowly seeped in, the universe was actually preparing me to handle the most significant of all battles - Cancer. How could a successful career woman, mother of five, wife, friend, daughter possibly hold it together in her "perfect" world while coping with this awful disease, unless she learned some new moves? This diagnosis forced the ultimate dance between being positive and being real. Needing help and needing to be strong. Protecting others from pain and being honest. I HATE pity, and HATE feeling vulnerable, but even worse - I HATE worrying my parents, husband and children. Today's self decided to speak the truth, feel the raw emotion, and then, find the rays of hope. That is my perfect dance! I learned the steps over the last few years and mastered the final performance the week my doctor said "it's cancer". It's fascinating how all of the small, seemingly inconsequential "learning moments" accumulate to become the most useful weapons in life's real challenges. There's no question that the people who found their way into my life over the last 8 years or so, and the subtle changes to relationships that already existed - each had a purpose. This year's "impossible" journey was made better because I had learned to trust, to lean on others, to be ok with NOT being ok. I let people see cracks in the foundation, and I even let them fix a few. Breast cancer reminded me of obvious stuff - like live life to the fullest, seize the day, hug your loved ones... But it ALSO shone a light on the more subtle messages I encountered every day. This experience taught me that there are messages woven through life's joys and challenges. Some are discreet and some blatant. Some dots take years to connect, but as I look at the work I've done, the people I've met, the attitudes I have adopted and the situations I have found myself in - I realize that they've each contributed in some meaningful way to my surviving the mental strains of the last few weeks. Even the seemingly insignificant moments DO matter. The most profound teachings came from the most innocuous circumstances! The same subtle lessons have helped me in my search for "purpose". When I was faced with my own mortality, I suddenly felt very small, and my need to find a bigger "purpose" grew urgent. As was the pattern of my life, I expected the "perfect answer" - a neat and tidy "calling". Now, I am reminded that purpose doesn't need to be earth shattering, nobel prize winning stuff. Simply making a difference and contributing to the fabric of somebody's story in a way that they can draw strength from later on is purpose enough. Today, I want to be a subtle presence in lives that I cherish, and to be one of the "dots" they connect as their stories unfold. No need for them to see, with perfect clarity - where I "fit" right away, just that I was there...with a story that will someday add a tiny bit more richness, wisdom or love when they need it most. Just as all of the people I look back on today played a significant role in crafting my "dance", I can only hope to add a step or two in someone's choreography - and that our final rendition of the "perfect dance" overflows with crazy, imperfect, acceptance and love.

Knights in Shining Armour

Pop psychologists and a few of their feminist cohorts warn us against the evils of fairy tales. Apparently, the age-old stories set girls up for disappointment. They depict young women as helpless victims - neither independent nor strong. Fairy Tales were the Helen Reddy "I am Woman" antidote. I disagree - not so much with Ms. Reddy vs. Cinderella, but with the notion that 17th century chicks were depicted as meek and frail. My childhood heroines in all of the classics - Snow White, Sleeping Beauty and all the others had more spunk and character than their male counterparts. I don't remember thinking that these women were weak or passive - sitting around waiting for a knight in shining armour to ride up on a white horse. They were remarkably brave, patient and always scored the prince! Maybe there were some weird, socially unacceptable elements of original European folklore that stress the scholars out, but I know that the sanitized versions of my favourite stories painted glorious images of knights and princes who were not only dripping with charm, but willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of the girl. How can you not love that? Unless, of course, you're one of those prince charming guys - trying to slay dragons, impress kings and consistently risk your life in the name of love. It's the boys, if anyone that have it rough on the fairy tale scene - looking like medieval UFC fighters, desperate to win the prize.
Fast forward to 2011. Despite their antiquity, aren't we all in search of the quintessential fairy tale? The perfect romance, the magical backdrop, the happy ending? I believe that we all carry our private image of the "ideal". It's different for each of us, based on our own favourite "story", but it is the standard of perfection against which we measure each of life's moments. Pop artists sing "today was a fairy tale", brides strive for the "fairy tale wedding", and I certainly love the fairy tale vacation, celebration and Christmas gathering (Well, ok - that can be Normal Rockwell-ish...but he had a fairy tale thing going on)...That's what prompted me to blog about this notion of "perfection" that some of us like to shoot for - based on romantic images, and warm, familiar feelings of pure comfort and joy. Most excellent in the pursuit of the "fairy tale experience" is the fact that beauty and perfection is subjective. My perfect moment looks, feels and sounds vastly different from someone else's. Mine projects an unbelievable sense of peace, satisfaction and fulfillment FOR ME that no one else would realize...and I'm sure that, as my daughter or sons live through some of their moments of ultimate perfection I'll remain oblivious to them. But, despite the vast differences in how we measure "awesomeness", I love the fact that we do! Call them fairy tale stories, fairy tale endings, fantasies, or simply perfect tradition - it's wonderful to strive for a moment that can be etched in our memories as "the perfect whatever..." It's wonderful to create a personal library in our minds and hearts that archives all of those great moments, and designs our barometer of excellence against which we measure all of life's adventures.

As the new year takes stride, I am compelled to capture, in pictures, words and through any other means, those moments of pure pleasure from the 2010 holiday season. I am anxious to compile my own collection of fairy tales - all with happy endings, beautiful settings and captivating characters! January - a month of new beginnings - always inspires nostalgia for me. It's the month where I organize my family pictures - in albums and on-line. It's a month where I take inventory of the relationships that bless our lives, and celebrate the abundance in our home. My 2010 fairy tale stories include warm nights by the pool - watching ping pong tournaments, sipping chilled white wine and smiling with every burst of laughter and cannonball splash. A fairy tale cruise, where my very own knight in shining armour delivered champagne at sunrise. My family around the Christmas tree in their Santa hats, our dear friends and parents celebrating the holidays at our annual Holiday open house, and the road trips to Barrie, country music blasting and conversations rich with humour and teen aged insight, competing for the closest arrival time, and itching to see cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents again ! Counting down the last few seconds of a year, with anticipation of what the new one will bring. My fairy tales include a night of "kitchen table talk" with the girls in their sweat pants - contrasted by a night where they take our breath away with their evening dresses and shoulder-length curls! Watching hockey by a roaring fire, cheering in a freezing rink, or on a sizzling soccer field. Playing scrabble at home on a Saturday night or pretending to travel the globe with our dinner club friends, experimenting with the tastes, sights and sounds of exotic lands! 2010 was filled with my kind of fairy tales - beautiful stories of battles won, relationships grown, adventures taken and lessons learned. Like any great story, there were hardships and challenges. There were struggles and disappointments - but each of them helped to fine tune my definition of what "great" should look like...who merits the "knighthood" and how do the heroes and heroines measure up? In my world, 2010 was a great year; I am still crazy for my knight; hungry for adventure; and a real sucker for traditional, romantic happy endings....So here's to a new chapter, more hero-making moments and a few epic escapades. Good luck to those in constant pursuit of knighthood...and long live the fairy tale!!!

Time

Time: Such a simple word to describe such a complicated concept. Time is the most precious commodity there is, and the only resource that is evenly distributed throughout the entire universe - at 24 hour increments each...yet, some people never have enough of it, while others seem to have it in abundance! I wonder if that's because - like other precious resources, time is squandered by some and preserved by others - or invested wisely by some and spent foolishly by others...All I know for sure is that "time" is at a premium these days, and creates victims and villains with each passing moment...The victims can't achieve their goals because there's just no time...and the villains seem to rob everyone of time through wasteful vices...Time is the crutch propping up every excuse we have for shortcomings and Time is the hero when it comes to healing, learning, and growing.

I believe I played the "victim of time" role for a long time, using my shortage of time as rationale for not investing in myself, my friendships and my passions. There was no time to go to the gym, or go out for coffee...to read a book or join a book club. I didn't see the value of investing my precious resource in things that - at the time - seemed unproductive. But today, I view things differently. Today, I know that the time spent building relationships, taking care to have a healthy mind and body, and growing as a person will generate great returns. I may not end up with more time, but I'll have better quality time. A shift in priorities, from reactive "fire fighting" to a more relaxed focus on what truly matters has helped in the journey. I've learned to pick my battles and walk away from ones with a low impact outcome. I've learned to pick my friends and walk away from people who are toxic and draining. I've learned that doing what you truly enjoy stokes the fire and re-energizes you...so the time you'd typically spend complaining, recharging or resting can be put to much better use. I've learned to listen to my authentic voice...I had no idea what that meant for the longest time...all of the leadership books and courses kept saying "tune in to your authentic voice". I guess mine was so buried in all of the corporate acumen and "mom politics" that it was muffled at best! But time and it's cohort, patience allowed me the opportunity to finally hear...and the the message was: everyone really does only get 24 hours in a day...but we don't all get the same number of days in a lifetime, so stop racing to the finish line as if you know where the finish line is. Why would you want to sprint a marathon - there's no fun in that! My thirties were all about racing the clock. Young kids, young career and lots to get done. My mid-forties are all about adopting a new attitude that is more about slowing the clock...I know you can't cheat that sand back into the hourglass, but I'm hoping there's a way to see and appreciate each grain as it passes through. That's the word of the elusive authentic voice: spend time on what you enjoy, what you're good at, and what others can appreciate you for.

I flexed the "new attitude" muscle a few times this year, and I've got to admit - I like it! Take March Break for example. What would typically have been one of those rush around vacations where you max out every tourist attraction, book every excursion and schedule every minute was instead a clinic in relaxation! A cruise ship in the middle of the Caribbean - surrounded by tranquil waters, family and good friends. Time stood still and it took a few days to release the urge to check the time - and to lose the "I have to be somewhere" feeling. It was liberating to surrender to laughter. To take a nap in the middle of the afternoon, to read a book or stroll on the deck at 3 in the morning - and to experience pure joy watching the kids meet new people and have the time of their lives. Stress free vacationing, like stress-free living, seems to replenish time by rejuvenating mind and body. Now, my challenge is to translate the surreal way of life on a cruise ship into a permanent euphoria in my real life...a lofty goal - but one that's worth aiming for...maybe the plans for a new backyard pool and hot tub will be a great launching point...surrounding ourselves with family, friends, great books, good food and maybe some Vegas-style nightclub act every once and a while. Follow up with midnight strolls, champaigne at sunrise and the occasional adrenaline-pumping adventure and I will have the time puzzle all figured out! Whatever lessons the passage of time delivers this year, I will turn to the simple, placid days on the ocean as my anchor when weathering any storms ahead!

Foundations

I watch the news every night...not because I enjoy it, but because of an insatiable desire to be connected to a world beyond my back door. While the 60-minute broadcast represents someone else's notion of what's important - every so often a story will resonate with me, and inspire action or provoke thoughtfulness that would not have otherwise surfaced. A few weeks ago, Haiti was rocked with a series of devastating earthquakes - newsworthy by any network standards! The nightly images of desperation, shattered lives and hopelessness sparked a global relief effort. Everyone I knew wanted to make a difference in some way: We helped our kids raise money through the school, we dropped coins into every Haitian Relief box - at every mall, grocery store and hockey venue we visited, and we tuned in to telethons, concerts and other fundraisers - inspired by the power of a global community united towards a single cause. I believe we all crave the experience of a unified purpose that's larger than any one person or group. That's what makes us turn on the news every day, and that's what makes us human...the pure elation we feel when stories of hope and survival emerge from amidst the chaos. The compassion that surfaces with every tragedy is either a booming call to action or a subtle reminder that we've got it pretty good - either way - the daily news gets me thinking...

Fast forward a dozen or so days, and the stories of Haiti's recovery, Haiti's orphans and Haiti's hope are quickly overshadowed - as another global news story surfaces: The 2010 Olympics in Vancouver. We're transfixed once again as new images of opening day draw us together - to share stories of hope, and of tragedy. Once again, we feel overwhelming compassion, joy, hope and sorrow as the journey of each athlete unfolds. I love the Olympics and am passionate about the value of sport in our world That's why I drink in every segment each network produces about the Olympic journey every athlete has taken. These stories breathe life into the otherwise benign, yet impressive performances. Understanding the adversities that were overcome, the sacrifices made, the tough decisions, the pain endured and the insane level of commitment each Olympian struggled with on the road to Vancouver makes us feel invested and connected as a nation pulling together. I was moved to tears watching Joanie Rochette skate days after her mother died. I was emotionally connected to the sweetness of our first gold medalist, Alex as he hugged his mentally handicapped brother - dubbed his "inspiration" after taking the first gold on Canadian soil. I loved the ice dancers' story of how they had been together since they were 10 - and screamed when they won - Tessa and Scott are awesome role models and represent our nation well. What tugged on my heartstrings most during the Olympic games coverage was each athlete's reference to the foundation they relied on for their achievements. Parents, siblings, a whole community rallying behind them. Every success story comes with a band of unsung heroes - folks that made the difference on the road to excellence. As I consumed every second of coverage - I paid close attention to the foundation each athlete's career was built on, as 100% of our gold medalists talked about the extraordinary support, love and encouragement that got them to the top of the podium. Even Sydney Crosby has a solid foundation and awesome story of family support.

Fast forward a few days from the Opening ceremonies, and another earthquake is in the news. This one an 8.8 magnitude in Chile. The world digests a second tragedy amidst the Olympic drama. Personally, the images of peril, superimposed on the surreal excitement and angst of every sporting event sparked a metaphor that I've been thinking about ever since: the strength of every foundation - whether it is supporting a building or a human being determines how well each one can withstand an earth shattering blow!

When Haitian buildings were put to the test - their instability resulted in a crumbled pile of clay and stone. Stronger foundations garnered more favourable results...Just as some of the Canadian athletes had stories where they were shaken to the core - those with strong and stable foundations persevered. Cornerstones were cohesive family values, a supportive community and a persistent message from loved ones that confirmed "we believe in you"...The glue that bonds an unwavering foundation is made up of those things: A loving family, A strong community and constant affirmation.

As a mom, I may not be raising future Olympians, but I am raising amazing young men and a young woman whose world may one day be shaken by unforeseen challenges or tragedies. My goal is to be sure that the foundations we are building now are so strong that - no matter the magnitude of the blow, and no matter how devastating the impact - their foundation stays solid - so they can rebuild...That's why we watch Olympic games together; that's why we take road trips and plane trips to spend weekends with extended family. That's why we celebrate milestones together, acknowledge small victories and commiserate on the tough losses. We laugh together at the dinner table; we stay current online and we never go to sleep without saying goodnight! Strong foundations support even the most vulnerable structures....and people - elevating them to perform in extraordinary ways.

Food Wine and Design

I was having a "moment" the other day...and for the record, a "moment" is defined as: hot flash meets memory lapse. These moments usually generate a dual response: "holy s#@t, I'm 45 along with a mini epiphany of some sort. On this particular day, the "moment" inspired the question: "what cool and meaningful mission can I pursue when this 9 to 5 grind starts getting old?" I guess this can be paraphrased as "it's time to find a greater purpose" or "what should I be when I grow up?" At 45 - it's a valid question.

I'm sure that one day, I'll be hit head-on with a "vision". I'll understand my purpose - the meaning of life and the secrets of the universe...but by then it may be too late. So, I figured I ought to be a little bit more pro-active in finding something cool and meaningful to do later in life and I dug out a cool article that appealed to me several months ago. It was one of those intriguing pieces found in a magazine - and I knew that one day, in one "moment", I'd be inspired to do something with it.

The article suggested to write down three things you really enjoy - that DOES NOT include your kids, spouse or home. My instant response: "Food, Wine, Design". I stared at the page. I loved the catchy phrase but thought "how lame". There is no inherent purpose or depth in any of those things...but I was being honest. Now what? Write down three things you're good at. Hmmm: Writing - on some days. Training/Teaching - some people. Cooking - some foods. The final step was to try and link the three things that make you feel joy, relaxation and peacefulness (Food, Wine and Design) to the activities you're good at (Writing, Training, Cooking). The concept is to see on paper the perfect"marriage" of passion and proficiency - because that's the recipe for meaningful work!

What I saw on paper was, at first, very confusing. I'm supposed to cook, teach, or write about food, wine and design? That's meaningful?
After deeper thought, I realized that my happiest, most fulfilling careers involved writing for a design magazine and training for a world class interior design company. Inspiring people to surround themselves with beauty, and embrace life's simplest, yet finest pleasures brought me great joy. I wasn't saving lives, nor was I stressed by the need to. But every once in a while, I did strike a chord with a client, a reader or a design trainee; by helping them connect with life's sweetest offerings. I was on a mission to share my passion for simple abundance with the world. I'd stress the need for everyone to surround themselves with pretty things that have significance and that tell the story of a life well lived. I'd teach people to capture favourite memories and display them through pictures and objects. I'd write articles encouraging people to savour life's natural treasures; artfully prepared foods and finely aged wine; gorgeous tableware, delicate flowers, finely crafted fabrics of natural fibers; candlelight, fragrance and flavours.

I valued the chance to write and teach about special things that make the heart sing and the spirit soar: great style, great design, great food and great wine...and while none of these things will change the world - combined, they can inspire inner peace, raise money for greater causes and keep us grounded, by connecting us to our roots.

The mini-epiphany of the moment surfaces: perhaps the day will come - very soon - where "Food, Wine and Design" will be a column, a business, a website or a blog. I can't wait to see what the next "moment" will bring!