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!

Talking Tradition!

I love tradition! I think there's a profound power connected to anything that links us to our roots. Maybe it's a family ritual dating back a few generations, maybe it's a relatively new activity that our own family started. Perhaps its an ornament, a song, a favourite food that's shared once a year to celebrate a special occasion...whatever it is, I appreciate it! The appeal of creating or sustaining traditions comes from my passion for preserving fond memories. I want my kids to reminisce about their happiest moments as they carry forward a few of our finest traditions; I hope they experience the comfort of familiar smells, tastes, sights or sounds no matter where their lives take them... That's the coolest thing about valuing and honouring family traditions, no matter how much change happens in our lives, we can always find "home base" in our hearts and souls.

In this "Holiday Afterglow", when many of our favourite rituals are fresh in my mind - I love assembling pictures and writing little pieces...to transport me back to the "best of" - from all the seasons - sleigh rides with the kids, family hockey games on the frozen ponds and rinks, huge holiday gatherings and quiet winter nights watching Sens by the fire. Summer trips to the beach and backyard BBQs. Dinner clubs, book clubs and grad trips! New Years Eve - in front of the TV for the countdown and the Times Square ball drop - ringing it in with great friends and family...and Dick Clark's rockin New Years Eve party.

I've become quite obsessive about capturing those things that we like to repeat year after year. I believe that opening a window into our past is a way of extending hope that future years and future generations will "carry the torch" and keep up a few of the great traditions that link them all back to this moment in time.

I think my passion for tradition explains my fondness for the Christmas season. Opening up my boxes of ornaments is like stepping into a time machine. I'm instantly reminiscing about where we were or what was going on when we received each piece.

So, in the spirit of keeping traditions alive, I thought it might be wise for me to wrap up this blog with my top 20 list: Here are the top 20 traditions I hope my children carry forward to future generations - in no particular order:

1)Always take a picture of your kids on the first day of school - from JK until they graduate high school! Then order those "lame" posed ones from picture day too - you'll be happy you did.
2) Always leave the FULL stockings at the foot of the bed and NEVER get caught!
3) The JOY ornament goes at the top of the tree - just below the angel with Zach's face glued to her!
4) ALWAYS blow up and hang the birthday balloons the NIGHT BEFORE the birthday, and after the birthday kid is asleep. (Note, this ritual ends on their 30th birthday or when they leave your house - whichever comes first - I 'm rooting for the second option but ya never know)!
5)Take the family to the Pumpkin patch at halloween, and let them be spooked. Bring home at LEAST two carved jack o lanterns for your front walk!
6) Tortiere and Ragout on Christmas Eve - a reveillion tradition - with grandparents and Bampy's Christmas CD - so be sure you have one.
7) Pop Champagne to celebrate everything! Life's short - so celebrate every milestone: Anniversaries, Births, Holidays, Small victories of every sort...and on New Years Eve - pop the cork at the stroke of midnight - out the door and over the fence!
8) Take Polar Bear walks at the first snow fall. Run around the yard then upstairs into a tub of hot water!
9) Get Heart Shaped boxes of candy for everyone to have on Valentine's day morning, with cinnamon hearts sprinkled everywhere.
10) Track Santa - by phone, by computer, on TV - keep an eye on him Christmas Eve!
11) Use Plastic, colour coded Easter Eggs filled with little foil chocolate ones - and be sure to include a MOST elaborate treasure hunt!
12) Family vacations should involve waking up crazy early - and being on the road, in the dark, while the rest of the world sleeps. There's something extra special about those cold, dark mornings!
13) Sports events are events! Grey Cup and Superbowl Sundays merit Chili and Wings EVERY TIME...and the Olympics are an invitation to dine in front of the TV, set the alarm for 3:00 am to see an event live, AND host gatherings in the spirit of the games.
14) Prom IS a big deal! Limos, fancy dresses, corsages, pre-parties, garden parties, after parties and cottage parties - all GOOD!
15) Cousins should be best friends! Spend special times with extended family: Count down to the new year together, celebrate birthdays and weddings together...those are the folks that really matter!
16) Make movies of your holidays! Whatever technology there is - use it to capture your adventures.
17) Order Chinese Food when you decorate your tree - your REAL tree...
18) Mother's day and Father's day are more than hallmark card days - celebrate with precious time together - The Keg tradition worked for years!
19) Enjoy the Team Road Trips! Fun traditions of getting ready and being on the road with a sports team WILL surface and it's great to be a part of it - Cheer, Hockey, Soccer - We had some great journeys...Never think there's not enough time to go...there's not enough time to justify missing these!
20) Embrace the neighbourhood! Surround yourself with great people in your community and make up goofy "clubs" - Book Club, Dinner Club - genuinely enjoy each other's company...share outings (plays, comedy clubs, shopping adventures), go to the "ODR" (Outdoor Rink)...watch hockey (share season tickets for an NHL team - or watch your own kids play - I recommend both ), serve lunch at your kid's school, cook for folks in need...raise money, spend money, vacation together...Friends matter! Lay down roots and blend old friends with new with a traditional
once-a-year gathering that let's everyone know you appreciate them!

For each one of my top 20 "traditions" there's a host of favourite things connected to it (like going to DQ AFTER watching the soccer game; or having a "theme" for each dinner club that involves decorating the table and buying REALLY cool ingredients)...and my hope is that everyone in my family links their favourite things to a few of these traditions too!
Either way, it was a fun stroll down memory lane!

H1N1 is the real deal!

If we come out of this month unscathed, then we have immunity to swine, bird, and any alpha illness going. 10 short days ago, Mark and I ventured into hundreds of germ incubators between here and Toronto! The Ottawa airport was our launching point - where it became apparent that we weren't the only airborne passengers. Sneezing, wheezing people of all ages were generously spraying their infectious spores, while we stood, shoulder to shoulder in the terminal. It's great that we educate folks to cough into their sleeves, but not so appealing when they are rubbing those mucous-filled sleeves against my new winter coat! The boarding area was a breeding ground for viruses - as hundreds shared a few square feet of breathing room. And if it's not enough to have your breakfast bagel coughed into by the Timmy's guy, then how about herding into a vacuum-sealed tube, with the only air in circulation feeling and smelling as though it had been exhaled a hundred times over.

Fast forward to Toronto's Pearson, and miles of rubber handrails harvesting the viral flavor of the week as millions slide their hands across the surface. Public health was never a huge concern of mine - coming from a fairly uneventful childhood and not having lived through any real pandemics, I was quite shocked to find myself wanting to lysol the rental car steering wheel (yes lysol has become a verb in my vocabulary), and bury the comforter from the hotel room deep in the closet! Everywhere I turned, I recognized the germ potential - from the highly suspicious airport washrooms to the supposedly-sterile medical building - our ultimate destination.

I've never viewed the world through this lens - I tend to prefer rose colored glasses, not lab goggles! Yet, when credible nursing friends discuss how ICU units are overflowing with H1N1 patients, and when the majority of victims are healthy, active young folks - (ok - a little bit out of my risk category)I get a little edgy and infinitely more aware.

No one in my home has been vaccinated yet. Typically, we would decide against the vaccine and slam the media for all of the hype. After all, the big news agencies dictate what issues merit public attention. Which war story deserves our grief, what politician needs to be scorned and, whether we should be noticing how many folks are sick or dying from this season's flu strain. Typically, I would chalk up the H1N1 "press" as sensationalism. People die every year from influenza...But, the reality is - an unprecedented number of young people really are battling this bug right across the nation - and many of the strong, healthy ones are losing the fight. So, if the clinics re-open, my gang will be high tailing it down there! If they don't re-open, or of we can't get immunized, we can hope that the exposure of the past 10 days has forced our bodies to build up their own immunities...But I will still want my young, healthy hockey playing boys and crazy tumbling girl, who spend their lives in gyms and arenas to be the among first ones in line! Call me crazy, call me paranoid - or just call me mom - but I've been noticing that, as beautiful as this world can be...it's a petri dish for infection...and I don't think the spotlight on this year's pandemic is pure media hype. While everything about H1N1 makes up the perfect profile for front page news, it's not interests in Purel sales driving the focus. This is the real deal - PURE, simple, and a little scary!

Thinking Pink

If we were to take all of the adjectives that describe breast cancer survivors and blend them into a colour - there's no question it would be pink! Soft, yet strong. Passionate and Formidable. Courageous, yet delicate...anything but neutral. Red tempered by the purity of white - how appropriate that it spans the emotional spectrum from rage to love - tempered by innocence and hopefulness.

I've not been touched directly by breast cancer, but know many brave women who have. Each day, I speak to one or more of them - not about their journey, their illness, their struggle - but about the day to day joys and challenges of simply being here and doing what we all do: from raising kids to balancing a budget - from managing a career to managing a marriage. Seeing how "normalized" their lives are - and knowing on a deeper level what they have overcome to get to this state of normal is awe inspiring to me. That's why, during this month of breast cancer awareness, I'm all about the pink! Recognizing the need to do something - big or small - to make a difference in the lives of the victims, the patients, the families and the survivors is a little goal of mine - and I am surrounding myself with pink-ness to keep this goal at the forefront!

Supporting the cause financially is terrific, but I also believe that creating an emotional connection is also important. Showing that you give a damn by wearing the colours, the ribbon symbolizing awareness and hope, walking the walks and buying the pink stuff whenever possible...I just think that - if it were me - I would value the acknowledgment of the movement instead of any pity...and from all of the survivors I know - they sure aren't looking for pity - in fact - they are among the strongest and toughest people I've ever met...What they're after is what we're all after at the end of the day - a long and healthy life, surrounded by the people they love and filled with joy, adventure, some unpredictable fun - and a little red wine! No pity party on their watch!

I can't even attempt to get inside the head of someone who has experienced cancer of any kind - or profess to understand what the battle was like. All I can do is try to raise awareness, raise a bit of money for research and be there...not that I have anything profound to say...but I am a hell of a shopper, I can eat chocolate with the best of them - and can sip red wine on command - hey - that's what friends are for. October is Breast Cancer Awareness month - and a great time to don some pretty pink things, sign up for an event, or buy some of the really cute cookware that seems to be in every kitchen shop out there.

We are surrounded by great stuff - and the abundance we enjoy every single day should have some meaning connected to it - a ritual, a fond memory, maybe a little bit of hopefulness. So next shopping outing that involves a little decorative something...or one of my obsessive kitchen purchases, I will be sure that the piece supports the cause Think Pink!
That reminds me - if you haven't looked at Sarah ban Breathnach's book Simple Abundance - or her website...http://www.simpleabundance.com/homepub.html, then it's worth a quick visit one day...A lot of her ideas are simplistic - but there are a few treasures that I find myself re-reading several times - especially after thinking about a topic like breast cancer.

Tomorrow is "Wear Pink Thursday" at work...My team championed that idea over a year ago - and it stuck...so I thought that tonight's blog - as I sit by my crackling fire enjoying the peacefulness of a mid-week evening, I'd like to write about the little pink movement, because every tiny bit matters!

Thanksgiving...giving thanks

When a brisk and bright autumn afternoon blends with the comforting warmth and welcoming smell of Thanksgiving dinner in the oven, you know it's gonna be a good day!
What is truly better than crisp air, crackling leaves and a 26 pound Turkey with all of the fixings?
How about having the family and friends around to enjoy it?
I am a huge fan of Thanksgiving for a whole bunch of reasons. It happens during my absolute favourite season, it involves food - buying it, cooking it, and eating it in abundance - all of which I quite enjoy - and the day typically involves a nicely decorated table (wait - LOVE that), visitors (REALLY LOVE THAT), celebration and sports...playing, watching - whatever!
The bottom line is - the sum of almost everything I enjoy - except traveling and writing - seems to be neatly packaged into one long weekend in October - I even love the long weekend part! AND this year, as an added bonus, the celebration includes my son's 19th birthday - so how can it possibly get any better? Well here's the thing...there's a nasty four letter word lurking in the shadows, ready to rain on my brisk and bright autumn day...It stands for discipline in eating turkey...or DIET!
So how can I possibly reconcile the fragrant smell of my stuffing (trust me, my stuffing rocks!), the smoothness of my home made gravy (yeah - it's smooth), the sweetest sweet potatoes, and of course the 26 pound king of the feast - with my perpetual images of being on a cruise ship trying to cover up the aftermath of too much pumpkin pie! Thanksgiving will be the toughest challenge yet, on my journey to cruise-readiness.
I just landed from a business trip - and the restaurant thing was tough enough - but it doesn't even come close to the temptation that will consume every inch of my kitchen in a very short time!
From Monday to Friday last week, I said no to the bread, no to the gravy, asked for dressing on the side and went to the hotel gym at an ungodly hour to get treadmill time. I guess the sacrifice was easily worth the benefit in this case. But when it comes to Thanksgiving, we're taking the willpower game to a whole new level...this is now the superbowl of sacrifices and I don't know if I'm up for the challenge...For years, my turkey day has been wrapped in tradition - and every tradition has a calorie count connected to it! I traditionally peel 10 pounds of potatoes, create a sweet potato casserole (yes it's a CREATION), chop everything for stuffing and make a home made cranberry sauce the night before . This tradition may not sound "fattening" at first, but do you know how many glasses of wine are involved in this kind of prep? The next morning, we baste, stuff, baste some more, and assemble all of the fresh veggies and appetizers - yes - it's morning - so no wine, but a little taste testing goes on...Then the celebration - the dinner, the toasts to all that we are thankful for - the pies and the aperatifs...that's where we go into overtime in the sacrifice department! What to do...

As I mull the situation over and strategize a game plan, I start by asking what the biggest sacrifice of all would be...and the answer truly isn't "not eating turkey and stuffing".
I believe - on deeper reflection - that true sacrifice on Thanksgiving would be not having people around to share the turkey and stuffing. Not having Mark and my kids, parents and rest of our family and friends that make their way to our Thanksgiving table tell me how much THEY enjoy the meal...A bigger sacrifice would be that we don't have laughter at the dinner table, or that we have nothing to say when toasting all that we are thankful for...the sacrifice would be giving up the opportunity to share the abundance and be thankful for the abundance - not eat in abundance. So...next Monday - as I lay out my table, prepare the food and take a walk to the park to throw a football or hear the leaves crackle underfoot - I will cherish those things I'm truly thankful for - and the Discipline in Eating Turkey won't seem so tough at all!

Head and Heart

Have you ever paid attention to the "inner workings" of a great team? There's always a core group of players who have a mastery over the game. They execute every move with technical perfection, they "get" the strategy, they read their opponents, and they consistently finish the job with predictable precision. They have the smarts and the muscle memory - and I call them the "head" players.

Then, there are those high energy wild cards, who go out there in an almost-reckless abandon - determined to use their grit, instinct and sheer determination to either win big or mess up bigger. These are the players who throw that hail Mary pass as the whistle blows - or score that overtime goal because they took a risk and tried something a little different. They are not the consistent, strategic, by-the-book players - they are the ones that are willing to lay it all on the line to follow their gut instinct. I call them the "heart" players.

I believe that every successful team - in sports, in business AND in marriage needs both head and heart players. No question - our home team has it's share of both... I am that heart player and Mark would be the consistent, reliable, strategic, methodical and deliberate head player. He reads every situation, maps out a game plan - and usually scores! I, on the other hand, rely heavily on passion and instinct - making decisions based on what feels right - living in the moment with more "Hail Mary" passes on record than I care to remember! Success is sweet, and the incomplete pass is...expected.

We recently made a few big decisions, that brought our "playing styles" to light in a big way... Good friends invited us on a cruise. 24 hours after we talked about it, we booked it...well, "we" being our friends and I. Mark would have preferred researching, comparing, studying and waiting for all stars to align. He likes time to strategize, analyze and internalize... while I just FINALIZE! The "head player" wants everything to make sense - while the "heart player" says, "who cares whether it's the very best option...it will be the funnest option because our friends will be there, and we have lots of reasons to celebrate!" My instinct says - this will be GOOD..."Hail Mary Pass" at its finest!

We recently bought a car...and all I can say is - thank goodness the head player dominated that field! Mark followed the car-buying playbook to a "t" and executed. I was thrilled with the results - especially because we ended up with the same car I had picked out in June...A few weeks before the car and the cruise decisions, our son decided to take a semester away from university study to pursue his banking interests and finish some on-line courses. I was entirely supportive, knowing in my heart that we had given him the foundation to make smart choices and knowing that - as in any recognized and respected co-op program, taking a few months away from classroom theory to put skills into practice is a good thing...Enter - "head player", firing up the debate over how things are supposed to be! Once upon a time, the playbook clearly said that after high school, you go to university, then get a job. That's the proper order and the right way...My alternative point of view was the equivalent of that annoying player digging in the corner, hoping to turn sheer determination into a goal on the scoreboard...I have no idea if I earned a point on this one - but what I DO know is that our son heard both voices on a level playing field and understands how important his decisions are to us...that's gotta be a win on some level.

I'm glad that our kids are being raised on a well balanced team. I'm glad Mark's sense is tempered by my sensibility and that my occasional "jump right in" tendency is offset my Mark's impeccable planning. I'm glad that our team can have a pretty solid play book, that allows for a bit of creativity, flexibility and the occasional crazy pass when we should have punted! I'm especially glad when Mark doesn't call me out when I'm offside or when I fumble - because, between the misses, this team executes some spectacular plays.

Time will tell whether our most recent decisions will bring home a win...but either way, the experience will help take our game to the next level!

The Up's and Down's of Middle Age!

I recently turned 45. Maybe it was the high altitude and thin mountain air that caused me to celebrate that milestone with euphoric bliss. Surrounded by family and by the Three Sisters Peaks, I blew out my candles and graciously embraced "middle age"...Actually, it may even be pushing the envelope to assume that 45 is the half way point, but I'm an optimist by nature.

Soon after my Banff Birthday, I came home and fell back into the daily routine of work, school and sundry "stuff" - HOLY CRAP - I'M 45! This is no longer as quaint and charming as it was in my Rocky Mountain zen-like state. Someone or something made off with a whole decade - I swear I was just 29! After all, 45 is the age where "hot" isn't used in reference to me, but instead - what happens to me as I spontaneously break out in an uncontrollable sweat. 45 is when the "mid-life crisis" translates into a hot little sports car - and that's not the only thing that goes from 0 to 150 in seconds - try the bathroom scale! 45 is when you can legitimately say to your kids "I have socks older than you." 45 is when you have to stop referring to the extra 25 and a half pounds as "baby baggage" - my baby is 13 today - it's lack -of-gym-itis!!!

The other day at work someone even referred to the "R" word - that NEVER happens! I was asked how long until I retire - COME ON NOW!!! 45 is a pivotal age. Sandwiched between growing yet needy teens and aging, yet highly independent and healthy parents. Managing a mind that says "yes you can", and a body that says "don't you DARE". Thinking you're way too young for some stuff - like, let's say a vacation in St. Pete's...but way too old for other stuff - like skinny jeans, bikinis, backpacking through Europe, and a few downtown clubs where everyone looks like they're out way past curfew. It's an age of discovery but with fewer joyful discoveries..."I can't stay up that late and function the next morning" is one example.

Recently, I've been making a few discoveries and decisions that are definitely age related...things that never would have occurred to me a few years ago...or even a few short months ago! I'm holding things at arm's length to read them, and increasing the font on my computer...I even use that magnifying thingy at the pharmacy to read the labels! I've started spending a dollar for every year of my life on a jar of moisturizer - Noxema doesn't cut it anymore...I've found creative ways to craft a scarf around my neck when the wrinkles seem noticeable, and I pick up a box of haircolour at each drugstore visit (just in case the pesky roots grow out ahead of schedule).

Then there's the cool stuff that comes with being "middle aged"...All of those successful "suits" that used to intimidate the hell out of you 15 years ago are retired and replaced by young, hip, creative geniuses who report to you - and make you feel kind of young, hip and creative - or at least refreshed by their enthusiasm and boundless energy. You can speak from the heart - and genuinely express your opinion without reservation...because your opinion carries with it a little bit of experience! At 45, I can take a road trip without toting diaper bags, bottles, car seat, high chair, pack and play, and 20 changes of clothes "in case"...I can plan a spontaneous "date" for two without a week's worth of orchestration.

As a woman of 45, living in these post-feminist times, I suppose acceptance rather than shock, followed by terror - would be the "mature woman" approach to aging gracefully. Women today have a much longer life expectancy and are much more vital in their twilight years. 45 is the new 35! Aging graciously has never been a desire of mine, but these "times" embrace and revere the mature women, so why not jump on the bandwagon and grab some R-E-S-P-E-C-T ( I'm defining "mature" loosely as those of us who buy the "mature woman" vitamins and skin cream).

These "times" are flexible, lenient and forgiving (like my new jeans)- Today, society embraces the single mom, the professional career woman, the cougar, the blended family and every configuration of parental units imaginable. The traditional pressures of being married by a certain age, starting a family, yada, yada...have dissolved into the pages of history - only to be revived by the "feministas" (feminist Divas) who have a bone to pick with any institution that supports traditional roles. I went through a touch of feminism fever - it passed like a bad flu bug, out of my system in plenty of time to be a stay at home mom for several years, raise some cool kids, grow a career and a strong marriage.

Maybe being 45 isn't as traumatic as all that! Maybe I should re-evaluate, and be grateful for all of the blessings and insights these 45 years have delivered. Maybe, I should focus on how old I feel rather than how many calendar years have passed! Some days - that would mean 107, but on others, in fact the majority of them, I feel at least 10 years younger on the inside...and as I ramp up the walking, get to the gym and keep on with the expensive "mature skin" face cream, there's just no telling what the future will hold.

You Just Can't Plan That...

The last few weeks were among my favourites of the year! They saw hours of planning and preparation that involved excessive shopping and loads of hype! Checking details on-line, making calls and visualizing every moment until an image of perfection formed in my mind. Sounds a little like my annual quest for the Norman Rockwell Christmas experience. But, it's August and I was dreaming of the ultimate family vacation!!! As my family gets older, and the grown boys graciously bow out of summer holiday travel in favour of work, hockey and girlfriends - I treasure with even deeper gratitude, the fragility of secluded family time. Carving out a mere 10 days from the 365 seems easy in the grand scheme of things, but in our reality, earmarking 10 days for fun and frolic is pushing the envelope! That's why, when I steal precious time away from the busy lives we've each designed here in Orleans, moments DO take on that magical flavour of Christmastime - when the world seems to stop because we've decided to call a "time out" and enjoy each other.

When I sit back and look over all of the "magical" journeys this family has taken, whether it's Christmas morning, March break or summer vacation, there is one element of consistency among them: Stress-filled anticipation, combined with planning each detail to the most granular level! I would picture the Martha Stewart holiday gathering (I own every one of her holiday books), the traditional Christmas morning and a vacation lifted right out of the pages in my glossy travel brochures. I'd spend hours working through checklists, making up itineraries, writing lists and more lists...sparing no detail. But the funniest, MOST consistent and reliable attribute of every single holiday is that, no matter how well planned it was, the fondest and most cherished memories were created through moments that simply can't be planned.

I'm talking about ringing Sydney Crosby's doorbell in Dartmouth, Tyler winning a ping pong tournament in Dominican, and being crowned "king Arthur" of the resort, and having cousins turn up unexpectedly in Orlando to ride the Hulk with us!. The spontaneous laughs, the laid back attitudes, the extra time to play a game of cards or eye spy...Meeting new people and getting re-connected with old friends and dear family - those are the unscripted pieces of a great vacation. I'm happy to say that this year's trip boasted its own unscripted moments!

As expected, I wrote lists, made copies of my itineraries, double checked my bookings, packed extra of everything - and set out for another "perfect" experience. I anticipated 10 days of natural beauty in the mountains and precious family time in the prairies. What I didn't expect was the power of the Rockies! Breathtaking majesty that captures the spirit and affects an inner sense of relaxation that no spa in the universe can replicate! I also couldn't have planned all of the fun we had with Tyler, Cameron and Samantha as they discovered the wildlife, the glacial lakes, the hot springs and the mountain village of Banff.

Conversations seemed richer, games we played, music we shared and even the night time silence seemed sacred. Every minute was cherished with genuine enjoyment - and what I loved most was that we didn't have to rely on amusement rides or commercial interventions to dictate our "fun quotient"! Hikes, drives and downtown strolls gave us plenty of thrills with the pure and unexpected magnificence of our surroundings. We'd pop into Starbucks for an afternoon frappacino and talk about everything from outer space to ice fields! Time seemed to stand still...but only temporarily! Five days after checking in to our mountain paradise, we were off to phase two of the journey:A family wedding in Saskatchewan. We were rested, revitalized, even manicured!

Again - every detail was planned for this leg of the trip: Wedding gifts, shoes, suits, ties and dresses - all wrapped in dry cleaner plastic and stowed in a special "wedding suitcase" that was treated like the holy grail. We left the Calgary foothills and landed in the middle of a scene from Corner Gas! This Saskatchewan setting cried out for the making of memories. It was the Hallmark of both "unexpected" and extreme - a natural launching point for new holiday experiences - none more important than a celebration of marriage. The first of 27 grandchildren walked down the aisle - and you don't often get a chance to plan a vacation around such a monumental event, especially not in the heartland of the prairies.

As with anything in nature, subtle characteristics are amplified when superimposed against a contrasting backdrop. The landscape seemed even flatter when experienced immediately after a complete Rocky Mountain immersion! Twenty one people under one roof seemed like a large crowd in contrast to our little cocoon of five. The big prairie sky was bigger and the endless grain fields seemed eerily ominous as they stretched, uninterrupted, to the horizon. Both landscape and lifestyle were dramatically different from anything we knew, yet we still managed to uncover a few universals and breed some familiarity through music and dance moves, tumbling and long walks, cold beer and a good game of pool; water skiing and BBQs!

This trip was a journey through the country, the mind and the spirit. It was an education not only about glaciers and grain elevators, but about priorities and family values. It was a reminder that despite dramatically different surroundings, vastly different lifestyles, tastes and opinions - family bonds always lead us to a common ground; a higher ground! When you are part of a huge family - that's probably one of the greatest unplanned takeaways you could hope for. Each one of my kids found their own way to uncover common interests with their cousins, and in a very short time they grew lifelong relationships based on similarities. Differences, though dramatic, became inconsequential. Whether on the dance floor, in a game of Risk, in the swimming pool, or at the lake, common interests were punctuated...Some even found common ground at the wedding itself through familiar hymns and prayers they hear at school.

I could write for days about my "spotty" faith, parenting philosophy and attitude about kids in sports or creatures in nature but, whats infinitely more important is the way families from different places and perspectives can spend beautiful time together by focusing on some fundamentals we all can share: a desire for fun, laughter, good company and a need to feel valued. It was so refreshing to see such a diverse group of cousins figure out ways they could enjoy each other - and they came up with an endless supply of ideas: Mud wrestling in a puddle on a country road, playing extreme hide and seek, football and stargazing under the awesome night sky - their camp out in a trailer, campfire in the pit and every other backyard adventure met that fundamental human desire to play, laugh and be a valuable part of something!

So here's to spontaneous epiphanies in the prairies! Maybe it was my pre-wedding "mountain zen" experience that cleared out the cobwebs...all I know for sure is that 21 very different people from very different places spent many days together under one roof and we've been adding facebook friends ever since! In addition, we experienced a beautiful wedding, danced the night away in celebration and drove the Saskatoon streets trying to find our way back to the hotel when all was said and done (My GPS was sleepy). Once more, the fondest memories came from the most unexpected situations and you just can't plan for that.

On raising sons and daughters

The title of this installment implies some degree of authority on the matter of raising sons and daughters. Let me say something right up front...I got NOTHING!!! No research, no scientific evidence, no Dr. Phil psycho babble...just an opinion and a few dozen years of hanging out with other moms who, as luck and nature would have it...also have opinions on the difference between parenting boys and parenting girls...

So here it is...boys are "easier". And why is that??? Because they are not emotional...Say again!? They don't "do" drama...If they have a problem, they work it out in the school yard and then they get over it. Yep...that is the opinion of the majority - boys are tough when they're little - climbing your best pieces of furniture like trees, and putting reptiles in the laundry hamper...but then, according to popular belief, these same little demons start sprouting wings and the balance of terror shifts to the female , where raging hormones take the heat for every sigh, shrug, cheeky comment and classic eye-roll!

OK - this is where I stomp my feet and throw my hissy in that typical female way!!!! No, really - the myth of the unemotional boy who throws a few punches and gets back to business is a crock! Boys hold grudges, boys play mind games, boys' feelings get every bit as bruised as their bodies! I believe that pressure from all of these "tough guy" myths is the only thing that separates boys from emotional outbursts. And while boys' stoicism may seem easier to manage on the surface, I'm sure that all of the pent up frustration that comes from NOT having your feelings heard makes for some really challenging silence. "What's the matter?" "Nothing"..."Are you upset?" "No" "What are you thinking about?" "Nothing"? Oh yeah - THAT's easy to deal with!

Call me crazy, but I find the outpouring of emotion, the 911 crisis, and the unnecessary drama way easier - because at the end of the day, you've also got the closure that comes with laying it all out there!

So here's my opinion in the sea of non-experts...Boys want to be notorious for their "simplicity"...They pride themselves on not being "deep" or complicated. They brag about settling arguments by popping someone in the nose...But I know that their ego is susceptible to bruises - and that they don't want to blow their tough guy image by getting all emotional...Does that make them easier to parent? Call me crazy, but I find it much easier to deal with what I can see than what I can't...and when it comes to girls - there's a transparency that's refreshing. There are no hidden emotions, no giant egos suppressing "uncool" feelings or reactions...In fact, the opposite is true: With girls, NO feeling is left out of the mix...And not only are the girls' emotions exposed...but so are their opinions about everyone else's! While all of this turmoil and yes, drama, seems like a huge hassle, it's really quite predictable. I wouldn't be surprised if every girl mom has figured out a formula for going from tragedy to comedy in five easy steps...
But I've yet to hear the formula for pulling an ounce of insight out of "nothing and I dunno"!

I've been blessed with a 4 to 1 ratio of boys to girls...and, as luck would have it - that's what I just read was the level of challenge of raising teenage girls to teenage boys. They say raising 1 girl through puberty is as difficult as raising 4 boys...hmmm, I'll have to see about that - but so far, I'm not buying it!

It's The Climb!

I used to hear people say that the journey is more important than the destination and figured they ought to pick a more exciting destination! There was a time, not all that long ago, when I was all about the final goal...nose to the grindstone and get there! No stopping to smell any roses! My forty-something experience hosts a new attitude; maybe it's one of more patience . Or, more likely, my desire to enjoy the ride may simply be a matter of not having the drive to race to the finish line with as much vigor...Either way, the journey is looking pretty good. I'm starting to see the virtue in Miley's song: "It's the climb".

And climb we do! Our calendar is peppered with "milestones" ...there may be 4 or 5 of them a year...and between each of these "ultimate destinations" are 360 journey days. Life becomes richer when each step along the way is cherished with the same appreciation afforded the "main event". I've learned an important lesson in trekking through this life - take time to appreciate the incidentals that make each adventure real: it's all the little things that define the experience and that give credence and legitimacy to the celebration at the summit!

The events of the past week and the simple joys, laughs and challenges that paved the road to a beautiful wedding celebration in Barrie prove that the pleasure is in the journey and that the celebration is even sweeter when every moment is cherished along the way. The plan was for a simple wedding reception for my brother-in-law and his new bride; 20 or so people, in my mother-in-law's back yard...Wait, make that 30, no maybe 40 - oops, let's go with 50 - for a pig roast and luau - or, how about a traditional beef roast - wait - let's move it to my sister-in-law's yard...yeah - and we'll have it catered....or we can make all the food - but we'll need to rent tables...and chairs! Let's rent 4 rectangular - no - 5...make that 7 rounds! Let's get dishes, glasses, napkins and cutlery too - and up that order three times...Welcome to June - and - in mountaineering terms - base camp!

The party needed to be on a Friday - to accommodate the bride and groom's travel plans. So we would plan to get there Wednesday, and spend Thursday and Friday shopping, cooking and setting up. Sounds logical...and in normal circumstances it would be a simple "climb" - but simple isn't our style - so let's shake things up a little - throw in a graduation party (Wednesday night), Birth of puppies (4:00 am Thursday morning), a Lifesaving course that my nephew had to take all weekend long, coordinating the pick up of family from the airport as they started to trickle into town, and the threat of the LCBO going on strike!!! Now let's check the oxygen supply at 10,000 feet!

On pure adrenaline, we powered through the Wednesday night grad formalities and Samantha rekindled her close friendship with her cousin, leaving the grad party so they could spend time together at home. Then, as silence washed over the house (except for the din of Mario Kart engines racing in the family room) - Harley decided now would be a great time to give birth! On zero sleep, we were mid wives by night, delivering 4 puppies - and caterers by day - loading an unprecedented three baskets full of food at Costco - and buying everything needed for spectacular centerpieces...(except tethers to hold the damn vases down in the wind)...

Autopilot kicked in for this part of the journey...making cheese platters, veggie trays, salmon rolls, dips, salads of every kind, desserts...and as the tables, counters and every possible kitchen surface overflowed with wedding food, it became obvious that storage would be a huge issue...So, in keeping with the wedding tradition - to include something borrowed - we were on the phone borrowing a fridge! Mark and the boys literally trekked down the street and hoisted a neighbours fridge right out of their basement - door came off, and before long a full fridge was sitting in the garage - another good laugh and problem solved...As more family started to arrive, more adventures were in the making - by late Thursday night - we were ready for sleep - but Mario Kart racers would hear nothing of it...woohoo

Excitement mounted in proportion to exhaustion as the climb intensified...Friday was here - and the sun was shining! Boys were going kayaking and we were going to set up the yard, the roasts, the flower arrangements and anything else that needed setting up! Ice - check, beer and wine - check, tables, chairs, dishes...still waiting....No stress...the bride and groom were relaxing down the street at my in-law's home...we had made up enough food trays to hold them all up over there for a month...and last guest, sister Janet's flight from Regina was delayed...oh the climb!

By 3:00 the truck had arrived and unloaded all the tables, chairs and rental supplies. The party was scheduled to start at 6:00...Loads of time! All hands were on deck to set up tables - but how many men would it take to get the table clothes to stay on the tables and not blow around? FOUR with giant staple guns! They went to town on the cloths - ingeniously stapling fabric to wood...this he-man moment was followed by the tying and staking of the roasts, several grunts and a few beers...ah the climb!

The dozens of roses, arranged among baby's breath in pretty pink water and tall vases were the biggest challenge. The wind would pick up and send them soaring across the linen - threatening to spit red food coloured water all over the 50 carefully rolled yellow napkins the girls had assembled for cutlery! We debated what to do with them...and finally added a few extra marbles and hoped for the best as we sat guests and advised them to look out for flying vases when the wind picked up...of course, I reminded myself to stop and smell the roses every once in a while.

Toasts, bits of marriage advise, music, dance and lots of wine followed. The food was great, music sweet and company even sweeter. The summit came with the cutting of the beautiful, custom designed wedding cake...everyone was full, dry and happy - life was good!

We partied and celebrated until daybreak...then, the bride and groom opened wedding gifts on the patio - in the mid-morning sun. My daughter caught the bouquet, we all saw them off - and as the airport shuttle pulled out of the driveway - we closed another chapter - checked another milestone off the calendar and reflected on the success of the event.

Today, from a 40-something vantage point - I can say for sure that my fondest memories all took shape behind the scenes - off the beaten path - as the sun was rising, or setting...in the bustling pre-party kitchen, or the laundry-room turned delivery room...in the aisles of Costco or in the Dollarama glasswear section. There is no question that the event was a huge success - but the journey was overflowing with goodness - not to be under rated by tired bones or a sleepy brain - because that's when you know the climb was really great!!!

Ahhh The Weekend

I LOVE the weekend! OK - I guess that's not a radical statement- we all love the weekend for the most part...but I REALLY find joy in the idea of Saturday - it's not just the day - but the mood of Saturday...It actually feels different - because there's time to feel; it smells different, because there's a chance to stop and smell - the wonderful fresh brewed coffee, the freshly cut grass, the bounce sheets in the dryer - and it takes on it's own attitude and pace.

Being the first one up on a Monday morning is no fun. It's dark and lonely. Being the first one up on a Saturday morning is magic! The house is quiet, the coffee tastes better, the birds sing louder and the idea of catching up is inviting instead of chaotic. That's probably because I'm catching up on all the stuff I love - reading news and blogs, being with friends and family...Saturday means shopping - and I love shopping...Saturday means watching at least one of my kids play at least one sport - and I love watching my kids in their sports...Saturday means we will either have friends or family over - or we will go out visiting - and I love socializing...(plus there's always wine on Saturday night visits).

In addition to catching up on the fun stuff, my favourite thing about the weekend is that time works for me instead of against me...There are no meeting reminders popping up on my screen, no harried phone calls to deal with or urgent decisions to be made - beyond what colour nail polish to paint my toe nails with - or what flavour wine goes best with rib eye! Who should sleep over? Who gets the car? Really important stuff!

Eventually Saturday DOES get busy - as soon as the rest of the family starts padding into the kitchen, breaking the silence, drowning out the birds and upsetting the calm. But the weekend flurry of activity is different from Monday chaos... It involves a similar level of focus and intensity to what's needed throughout the week...but channeled toward different priorities: cheering in the stands or on the sidelines, racing from arena to field to gym to mall... creative cooking, power shopping and precious moments of solitude. It's RE-creation instead of recreation...the pace is rejuvenating rather than exhausting.

There's nothing like watching your daughter play football in the noon day sun - or seeing your son speed down the ice to score a breakaway goal...Cheerleading, lacrosse, dinner club and power walks - all part of the reason why weekends rock...they are the gathering place for the memories, the milestones, the simple things that make all of the weekday craziness worth it!

It's not Fair!!!

Three words get on my nerves like no others. "It's not fair"...I hear this whiny lament from both adults and kids. Typically, someone got something MORE than someone else - a better opportunity, a bigger privilege, a different reward!

Fair and equal are not the same! It's tough to accept but a real fact of life when you're raising more than one kid or managing more than one person. Does the complainer really want to be treated exactly the same as everybody else? I suppose that society pressures us to be sure everyone is treated the same... and political correctness screams out for equality - but everyone's not treated equally, because everyone is NOT the same! That's why some people get cut from teams. That's why there's only one first place trophy. We're not all equally capable, equally talented, equally "entitled" - so it's NOT FAIR to treat ALL people as though they are!

Sure, fundamental human rights issues have to be rooted in equality...and the whole gender thing carries some weight when it comes to the equality debate...back in the 80's I firmly believed men and women were equal...but I like to think I've evolved. Women are far superior at many things and men are better than us at a few too...equal? I guess for entitlements to pay and rights...but not with lifting bodies out of burning buildings...or...being maternal and intuitive...- it is what it is!

Equality in my family means equal access to the universals - we love equally, and support equally with all of the essentials (and then some), but I treat my kids differently - each one. Do they get equal privileges - nope...equal opportunities - not even...are they held to the same standard and given the same consequences? For the non-negotiables - yes... there are some rules of engagement that are one-size-fits all. Outside of that, each kid is his or her own person with unique talents and gifts - needs and responses to encouragement and punishment...What works with one is off side with the other...so why would I bother trying to treat them all the same? Simply to appear fair??? If I paint them all with the same brush I lose so much of their individualism that I start expecting them all to be the same...now that's NOT fair.


I hope my kids and the folks I work with every day understand that their uniqueness should never be compromised for the sake of "fair", because when fair takes over - true talents can get diluted in the sea of correctness...My kid who is really great at math understands that when HE gets a 75% in it - he will be given a harder time than his brother who gets a 60 in math. Why is THAT fair? Because their math aptitudes are NOT equal.

I hope that they all understand that the guy with the "C" on his hockey jersey earned it and gets more privileges - than the rookie...I hope they understand that treating everyone the same may mean losing sight of the individual talents, strengths and passions that can only be nurtured through differentiation. Giving everyone the same reward - so there are no "hurt" feeling" - making sure there are no "winners" to preserve the dignity of losers, giving everyone the same privileges (not rights - that's different) - all under the banner of fair, is - to me - the single most unfair thing a parent or a manager or an organization can do.

We fought for equality, secured equality and now we should evolve into a new era - where equality is "a given" and the uniqueness of every person, and between the genders, is what's celebrated and preserved...

Conversation Around the Dinner Table

We had friends over for dinner the other night and Michelle asked my husband Mark if he felt like a "changed person" after his near fatal accident...He answered in his logical "Mark" way...speaking of memory challenges and physical stuff - while I journeyed back to December 6th 2004 and the moment when the very definition of "change" changed for me...

It was a typical Monday. I saw all 5 kids off to school and settled in to my project: Building a "change management" workshop for a client in St. Louis that I was scheduled to see December 15th - how ironic was that? Mark had left for a training seminar in Toronto much earlier that morning...By mid day, I had transitioned from course development to party planning - as the date for our annual Christmas event was getting near...Because my travel plans were tight, I had every minute scheduled - and realized, if I was going to have a manicure this holiday season, it would have to be that afternoon...

I made the appointment to coincide with my casserole baking...5:00 PM - kids would be home and settled, with a jump on homework. There was no hockey or gymnastics that evening - shocking! It was clearly the only chance to polish up for the holiday season! The uneventful afternoon allowed for maximum productivity, and by the time the buses pulled up to the house, I was feeling quite accomplished. My kids and a few of their buddies poured into the kitchen right on cue. They snacked, started homework, and agreed to watch the Mac and Cheese casserole while I darted out to the nail salon. Things were smooth...Then I came home...

Zach said that he got a call from my husband's administrative assistant while I was out. I thought that was odd...after all, she knew where he was! She didn't leave a message with him...and, shortly after her call was a long distance ring that he didn't answer - he had always been taught to ignore strange numbers if parents are out...Nice move....yet all very unusual. I had an unsettled feeling in my gut even before I checked the message from that long distance caller. Instinct was right. It was the voice of a nurse - from a hospital just outside of Toronto...There had been an accident - I'd better call back! Unsettled turned to wanting to vomit!!!

The phone conversation was a blur - "Medically induced Coma", "Life Threatening Head Injury", "Collapsed Lung...", crap! If I wanted to see my husband again, I'd better make a move and get to Toronto within the next few hours. The one emergency room was in the process of transporting him to a more capable head injury unit in a downtown Toronto hospital - amidst the ice and snow - how would I ever make it there?

With the help of my teen aged boys, and at the suggestion of my sister-in-law who lives near Toronto, I booked a flight on-line. Mark's sister, brother-in-law , other brother and parents lived in the Toronto area and went to the hospital right away. I called on my family to take over my household and another one of Mark's sisters flew with me to Toronto...Thank God for family - they descended on the home and hospital with unbelievable determination and strength.

Joan and I took a 10:00 pm flight. We could have been flying to Australia - because that's how long it seemed to take...
And here's where real "change" started to happen - unknown to me at the time.

There was a profound shift in priorities! I used to spend flights planning. Allowing my thoughts to leap around - like a monkey swinging from tree to tree. But there was none of that. There was nothing but NOW! I didn't dare let myself think the unthinkable "what if", I didn't allow my mind to journey into tomorrow - or next week. For the whole flight, I focused on the "now"..."is he breathing RIGHT now?"...

Suddenly - projects due tomorrow, the trip to St. Louis, the Christmas planning were off the radar...My mind didn't wander towards dinner menus, hockey games or laundry...every ounce of my energy and focus was on being totally present.
And it wasn't even deliberate...There was simply no space left in my brain to process another single thought! It took everything to simply breathe and walk off the plane...And in being totally present, there was a weird and unfamiliar peacefulness. There wasn't the brain chatter that I was so used to - the "noise" of daily planning, anticipating, worrying and wondering that is like background "elevator music" playing in my head all day long. The magnitude of this event seemed to take up all of my mental resources so that all the other preoccupations turned off - leaving just the present - pure and simple - breathing, walking, navigating through an airport...

At the hospital, the "now" expanded to include a deep appreciation for all of the people helping and showing support. The people who surface as those who really matter in your life. But to think about tomorrow - and the daily functioning of a family, home and business was impossible! So I didn't...I surrendered to the present. Didn't care where the car was...what the bank folks thought when Mark hadn't shown up for his training meeting...what the hockey team would do sans manager at the upcoming tournament...didn't CARE...what a CHANGE!

Mark survived...and as we took baby steps back into the familiarities of daily life, the background noise started up again - and I began allowing myself to plan, worry, and anticipate again...but with a new-found gift...the ability to surrender to the present!

So...back to the original question: Did things change? What changed most profoundly for me was not my relationship with Mark, or my new business arrangements...the most dramatic change was in being able to see "context" in a new way. I always allowed clutter in my brain. Like static on a radio when the station isn't quite tuned in...It was like a dull chatter about things that aren't all that important...But after the accident, I experienced clarity - like I had finally tuned the radio to the actual channel - and got rid of the fuzziness...I got back home from Toronto and re-prioritized my life. The party didn't happen and the world was still turning. The hockey team went to the tourney and had their event without me - and they were fine...the gymnastics club went without a program for their Christmas meet - and every parent and athlete still found their way. CONTEXT to me means, prioritizing "stuff" based on the big picture...the people who will be impacted over the long haul.

So - getting a manicure by Christmas could have been considered important - in the context of daily life before...But, in the context of urgency and survival - it fell right off the radar...Doesn't mean I'll never have another manicure. It simply means that I prioritize on an entirely different plane - it's not up there with MRIs, EEGs and 42 staples in the skull...What kind of hors doeuvres to serve, what colour the programs should be, and do we have enough wine glasses - same deal....All important on some "superficial level", the only level I had ever really known...but in my new CONTEXT - I understood that these things are not deal breakers. I've hosted so many stress-free parties since...all lovely - and all focused on meaningful relationships way more than matching napkins...and I LOVE THAT!

So...I suppose I could say that my ah-ha moment was when I learned we humans are pretty remarkable. I learned that the human brain and it's layers of built in survival mechanisms reach far beyond the "fight or flight" reflex and include an extraordinary ability to shut down areas that "drain the battery", leaving on only those that are needed to function on a primal level...It's like the Blackberry as it runs down it's battery - it doesn't go from full functionality to dead...it slowly shuts down secondary applications, leaving you with basic phone service - and preserving the other applications for after it's recharged. I was running on "energy saver" mode for several days in the St. Michael's Hospital ICU unit - but my thoughts were unbelievably clear, and I was fully present. I didn't think about home, work, anything or even anyone outside of that room...and, despite the horror of the situation, it was liberating to focus on one sole goal, with no other distraction.

Now, when things seem overwhelming, I take myself back to that moment and try to find that peaceful presence - where all of the busy-ness in the brain goes still...it's a real change for me.

So - as I was sorting out these thoughts to share with Michelle, Mark - in his classic way explained what hadn't changed.... He's always felt gratitude. He's always given 100%, and he sees this setback, not as an invitation to finally discover the "joys" of life, smell the roses, or stop sweating the small stuff...he sees it as an affirmation that he was doing it right all along!

Our dinner chats aren't always this intense...most often we talk about shoes, recipes and Grey's Anatomy!!!!