I am a toastmaster. Recently I gave a speech and the opening line was “Screw It, Let’s Do It”. If you know anything about Toastmasters this would ordinarily be one of those out of bounds moments and I would have been cited for this sort of unacceptable language. But the club I belong to is not your ordinary run of the mill club, noooooo… we are an irreverent bunch, we call our club Politically Speaking and pride ourselves on banishing political correctness into the doldrums where it belongs – well you get the idea, so they merely thought I was swearing!
Actually “Screw It, Let’s Do It” is a book. The author is Richard Branson my favorite billionaire. Sir Richard lives life writ large and in this autobiographical book he does not disappoint as he treats us to an insider’s view to his many obstacles, his adventures, and to his ultimate success. His life is a magic brew worthy of Harry Potter and his cohorts. What keeps this brew from turning rancid is Branson's innate desire to make something worthwhile happen, that is to look for a way to make the seemingly impossible, possible.
Fourteen chapters in all. Each chapter a life lesson. I loved each one but if I had to pick a favorite then it would be the one to be chapter 2: Have Fun for Life is too short to be unhappy. That got me thinking. How is it or why is it that so many are content to live a life below the greatness of this gift that we were given? People complain. They complain about the lousy job they have, the rotten boss they work for, the crooked politicians they never vote for; the weather is too hot, too cold, too dry, too wet. They had an unhappy childhood and their adult life isn’t any better, wouldn’t you know it but then what else can one expect when the universe conspires against everything they do!
STOP IT! Life is too short and no one said it was going to befair.
No matter what your disposition is make a point of having some fun – every day, little bits of fun type of fun. Indulge in a little bit of decadence. Go have an ice cream cone, double scoop it – oh hey! make that a triple scoop and in a waffle cone, please. Visit your city. Huh! Yes. Play tourist, I mean really play tourist. Go to all the tourist attractions and find out what it is about them that makes them an attraction – why is the park famous, why was that statue erected, watch the martial arts students practice on the green and if there is a horse drawn carriage where you live, take a spin around the block or two and tip the horse driver handsomely. You’ll feel good.
Is there something you’ve always wanted to do and just never got off your keester? Fencing? Rowing? Dancing? Get a bunch of your friends together … not the moaners and groaners, but the ones who always seem to have a smile on their face, speak with energy in their voice, have a sense of curiosity, yeah, get together with them and go do something that will make you laugh, something silly. Isn’t that what you did when you were kids? And if you don’t have these types of friends go out and make some.
Sure the problems will still be there, maybe even some new ones, its life get over it. But having fun lifts your spirits and builds your inner strength muscles and soon – and this is a guarantee – soon you’ll be able to meet those problems head on, you’ll find a way to tackle them, you’ll go through them, around them or over them. This you will do for sure – you will live through it, come out stronger, and the world will look like a much better place than you thought it was. When you were born you were given the greatest gift of all - LIFE. Live it, love it - screw it, just do it!
Quick Links
Politically Speaking Toastmasters
Toastmasters International
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Road Warriors
Earlier this week I was driving down one of the many country roads in the area that I live. I smiled. Ahead of me was a runner. Now this is not an ordinary runner. I have driven down this road many, many times over the years and the first time I noticed this man running on the road was perhaps five, maybe six years ago. He has become a fixture on the road. I see him often.
The man is young, but his gait and something about him makes me think that he had a date with fate and the run was a mere therapeutic exercise. What is strange, to me at least, is that he still runs at the same pace, with the same small mincing type of steps, as he did when I first saw him all those years ago. His lean and muscular legs could surely cover more ground with each step, I am certain that he could even pick up the pace. In my mind’s eye view I see him running a marathon - he's a road warrior, after all! Seeing him this week got me wondering, is it his mind that has him trapped on this familiar treadmill or is it my mind that is trapped into thinking that he can do better?
Today at four o’clock I thought about this man, a road warrior of sorts - funny, I’ve never given him a name - and other images of road warriors I’ve come across flooded my mind. One of the most notable ones goes back to when I was still commuting to a day job. I would drive in on the freeway and enter the city over the Oak Street Bridge.
Typically it would be about 8.00 a.m. Every day without fail, was this young man, suited for work, earplugs in his ears attached to I gather a Walkman (in those days the ipod was a mere twinkle in Job’s eye, if that). He was Asian and, I surmised, on his way to work. I imagined that he worked for one of the hotels that were clustered on either side of the freeway just as the bridge ended – certainly there were no other types of businesses that would require one to dress in a suit.
He was a joy to watch. Listening to the music from his Walkman, he would be singing along with whatever it was that was playing, but he did more, his walk was more like a dance of a sort. His arms flailed and he punched into the air. Everyone driving gawked at him, but he didn’t care, and soon no one else did either, they just smiled. He became a fixture and I looked forward to seeing him. Somehow the sight of someone so energized gave me a lift and I too looked forward to the day. I wonder where this road warrior is these days. Perhaps managing a 5 star hotel or speaking in front of thousands as a motivational speaker?
Then there is the iconic image of a young man, hopping along on one good leg and on one that is a prosthesis. The ultimate road warrior. I speak of course of young Terry Fox who embarked on a cross Canada run to raise awareness of cancer. He never made it. The disease he was fighting took him before he could complete the run. Today there are Terry Fox Runs for Cancer all over Canada and each year millions of dollars are raised for cancer research. Ironically, with the advancements that medical scientists have made in this disease, had Terry lived today, he would have completed that run.
I wonder how many other road warriors there are out there? Is there someone you see on the road? Often? Is there something that sets them apart from others on the road? Have you wondered what they might be running for? Is that road warrior you?
quick links
Terry Fox - Marathon of Hope
The man is young, but his gait and something about him makes me think that he had a date with fate and the run was a mere therapeutic exercise. What is strange, to me at least, is that he still runs at the same pace, with the same small mincing type of steps, as he did when I first saw him all those years ago. His lean and muscular legs could surely cover more ground with each step, I am certain that he could even pick up the pace. In my mind’s eye view I see him running a marathon - he's a road warrior, after all! Seeing him this week got me wondering, is it his mind that has him trapped on this familiar treadmill or is it my mind that is trapped into thinking that he can do better?
Today at four o’clock I thought about this man, a road warrior of sorts - funny, I’ve never given him a name - and other images of road warriors I’ve come across flooded my mind. One of the most notable ones goes back to when I was still commuting to a day job. I would drive in on the freeway and enter the city over the Oak Street Bridge.
Typically it would be about 8.00 a.m. Every day without fail, was this young man, suited for work, earplugs in his ears attached to I gather a Walkman (in those days the ipod was a mere twinkle in Job’s eye, if that). He was Asian and, I surmised, on his way to work. I imagined that he worked for one of the hotels that were clustered on either side of the freeway just as the bridge ended – certainly there were no other types of businesses that would require one to dress in a suit.
He was a joy to watch. Listening to the music from his Walkman, he would be singing along with whatever it was that was playing, but he did more, his walk was more like a dance of a sort. His arms flailed and he punched into the air. Everyone driving gawked at him, but he didn’t care, and soon no one else did either, they just smiled. He became a fixture and I looked forward to seeing him. Somehow the sight of someone so energized gave me a lift and I too looked forward to the day. I wonder where this road warrior is these days. Perhaps managing a 5 star hotel or speaking in front of thousands as a motivational speaker?
Then there is the iconic image of a young man, hopping along on one good leg and on one that is a prosthesis. The ultimate road warrior. I speak of course of young Terry Fox who embarked on a cross Canada run to raise awareness of cancer. He never made it. The disease he was fighting took him before he could complete the run. Today there are Terry Fox Runs for Cancer all over Canada and each year millions of dollars are raised for cancer research. Ironically, with the advancements that medical scientists have made in this disease, had Terry lived today, he would have completed that run.
I wonder how many other road warriors there are out there? Is there someone you see on the road? Often? Is there something that sets them apart from others on the road? Have you wondered what they might be running for? Is that road warrior you?
quick links
Terry Fox - Marathon of Hope
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Marshmallow People
The world economy limped into the new year on crutches; battered and bruised from mismanagement, greed, and plain outright theft. The media keeps churning out the bad news and it seems that everyone is jumping onto the blame game wagon. Fingers are pointing left, right and center. The government made bad decisions. The banks mismanaged their funds. The Auto industry was too arrogant. Wall street is too greedy. And the litany continues. The armchair pundits are now expert and have the solution to every little and not so little problem of the world.
But you know, the more I think it about it, the more I think we should be looking elsewhere, as the saying goes, we have found the enemy, and the enemy is us. When personal debt is at an all time high, our credit cards maxed out, our homes being foreclosed upon ... ultimately, the responsibility is our own. Ease of credit does not mean irresponsible use of it, and irresponsible use of credit my friends is what has got us into hock.
When is it that we began to shed ourselves off of prudence and good fiscal management; of kindness and courtesy; of expectations of ourselves and responsibility? When? Was it when looking out for number one came to mean selfishness and self promotion? Was it when we took out yet another credit card to pay for the last one? Was it when we stopped holding ourselves accountable, not to someone else, but to ourselves? Or did we get "ourselves" into such a state of myopia that we could no longer see that which was before us --- a slow deterioration of a society? We have become marshmallow people, you know, all soft and pudgy and no backbone save the skewer that will roast us over the fire. We are feeling that fire now.
Let the governments do what needs to be done. Let us do what we need to do. Financial ups and downs will always be there. They are not always of our making. But if we manage our lives better, chances are the world will be governed better too. The buck does not stop at the threshold of the Prime Minister or the President, it stops on your threshold and mine.
But you know, the more I think it about it, the more I think we should be looking elsewhere, as the saying goes, we have found the enemy, and the enemy is us. When personal debt is at an all time high, our credit cards maxed out, our homes being foreclosed upon ... ultimately, the responsibility is our own. Ease of credit does not mean irresponsible use of it, and irresponsible use of credit my friends is what has got us into hock.
When is it that we began to shed ourselves off of prudence and good fiscal management; of kindness and courtesy; of expectations of ourselves and responsibility? When? Was it when looking out for number one came to mean selfishness and self promotion? Was it when we took out yet another credit card to pay for the last one? Was it when we stopped holding ourselves accountable, not to someone else, but to ourselves? Or did we get "ourselves" into such a state of myopia that we could no longer see that which was before us --- a slow deterioration of a society? We have become marshmallow people, you know, all soft and pudgy and no backbone save the skewer that will roast us over the fire. We are feeling that fire now.
Let the governments do what needs to be done. Let us do what we need to do. Financial ups and downs will always be there. They are not always of our making. But if we manage our lives better, chances are the world will be governed better too. The buck does not stop at the threshold of the Prime Minister or the President, it stops on your threshold and mine.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Birds of a Feather
Whoosh! Busy morning! And afternoon!
Took a mini 5-day vacation --- now I don’t know about you, but whenever I take an impromptu time off, I find that when I come back I have lots of bits and pieces to get done. That’s what this morning was about, errands.
The actual number of errands was not all that many; it’s just that the distances between them took up the morning and a good part of the afternoon. I am not complaining though. I take the opportunity whilst driving to listen to good music, tune in to a radio talk show, or … just think. Driving affords me uninterrupted personal enjoyment in my own private theatre: the car.
In no particular order, today so far:
The Miracle on the Hudson: Birds seemed to have factored prominently today. First on the news, a US Airlines flight that had an ummm… midair collision with a flock of birds on take off. The birds got sucked up by the engines – this happens with annoying regularity – and this disabled both of the engines rendering the aircraft engineless. The pilot did an admirable job of guiding the aircraft over the Hudson River and safely landing it, with all 155 passengers and crew reported safe.
Ordinarily a lone small bird causes little to no trouble, but this was a whole flock of them and they were no ordinary birds either, oh noooooooo … they were Canada Geese, arguably one of the largest of flight birds we know. Now its time these birds got some smarts. They would be better off if they stopped hanging around airports, and what are they doing in New York in the cold of winter anyway? By now they should have all migrated to warmer climates, well at least to Florida where they could be enjoying the life of riley on the golf courses … oh, they’re not welcome there either?
Swan Lake: Also today, one hundred and fourteen years ago, Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake premiered in St. Petersburg. Let’s see, that would have made it January 15, 1894! I heard this on the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation FM Radio – CBC, and got to hear a portion of that composition. Alas, the ballet had to be imagined. But I love Swan Lake. I was introduced to this ballet whilst still a young girl living in Japan. One of my dad’s business associates who lived in the country loved ballet so much that every time there was a performance by an acclaimed troupe, he would take the full day train ride from Bessho Onsen to Yokohama so that he could attend. He always stayed with us. I always got to attend the ballets. The iconic Swan Lake was my introduction this beautiful form of dance.
Eagles: Much of the area that I live in is surrounded by farmland; it is also on the migratory path for many birds. Yes, we have lots of Canada Geese here, but to be honest they have become a permanent fixture because of the mild (usually)winter climate, they do rather well hanging out on farmland, the many parks that we have, and the odd bird sanctuary . They have no shame and will accost you if they think there might be some grain in the palm of your hand or in your coat pocket. Truly, they are shameless, like a band of bandits.
But today I saw eagles. Bald Headed eagles. Lots of them.
Once again it is not unusual to see eagles here, but today the sightings were so many that I began to count them. They were mostly perched on leafless trees alongside the bi-ways on which I drove today. They were easy to spot. Sometimes two or three to a tree, at other times a single bird watched the passing parade of cars beneath. I don’t know what it is about eagles. They are so regal and I get an inexplicable sort of feeling whenever I see one. The feeling is a mixture of wonderment, humbleness and promise. Can’t explain it --- its just a feeling that comes over me. The First Nations believe that an eagle sighting is a good omen. Today, I got good omens in spades!
Yup! It’s going to be a good year!
Quicklinks:
Miracle on the Hudson<
Reifel Bird Sanctuary
Swan Lake - Kirov Ballet 12 minutes
Swan Lake - Bolshoi Ballet 2 minutes.
Bald Eagles
Took a mini 5-day vacation --- now I don’t know about you, but whenever I take an impromptu time off, I find that when I come back I have lots of bits and pieces to get done. That’s what this morning was about, errands.
The actual number of errands was not all that many; it’s just that the distances between them took up the morning and a good part of the afternoon. I am not complaining though. I take the opportunity whilst driving to listen to good music, tune in to a radio talk show, or … just think. Driving affords me uninterrupted personal enjoyment in my own private theatre: the car.
In no particular order, today so far:
The Miracle on the Hudson: Birds seemed to have factored prominently today. First on the news, a US Airlines flight that had an ummm… midair collision with a flock of birds on take off. The birds got sucked up by the engines – this happens with annoying regularity – and this disabled both of the engines rendering the aircraft engineless. The pilot did an admirable job of guiding the aircraft over the Hudson River and safely landing it, with all 155 passengers and crew reported safe.
Ordinarily a lone small bird causes little to no trouble, but this was a whole flock of them and they were no ordinary birds either, oh noooooooo … they were Canada Geese, arguably one of the largest of flight birds we know. Now its time these birds got some smarts. They would be better off if they stopped hanging around airports, and what are they doing in New York in the cold of winter anyway? By now they should have all migrated to warmer climates, well at least to Florida where they could be enjoying the life of riley on the golf courses … oh, they’re not welcome there either?
Swan Lake: Also today, one hundred and fourteen years ago, Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake premiered in St. Petersburg. Let’s see, that would have made it January 15, 1894! I heard this on the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation FM Radio – CBC, and got to hear a portion of that composition. Alas, the ballet had to be imagined. But I love Swan Lake. I was introduced to this ballet whilst still a young girl living in Japan. One of my dad’s business associates who lived in the country loved ballet so much that every time there was a performance by an acclaimed troupe, he would take the full day train ride from Bessho Onsen to Yokohama so that he could attend. He always stayed with us. I always got to attend the ballets. The iconic Swan Lake was my introduction this beautiful form of dance.
Eagles: Much of the area that I live in is surrounded by farmland; it is also on the migratory path for many birds. Yes, we have lots of Canada Geese here, but to be honest they have become a permanent fixture because of the mild (usually)winter climate, they do rather well hanging out on farmland, the many parks that we have, and the odd bird sanctuary . They have no shame and will accost you if they think there might be some grain in the palm of your hand or in your coat pocket. Truly, they are shameless, like a band of bandits.
But today I saw eagles. Bald Headed eagles. Lots of them.
Once again it is not unusual to see eagles here, but today the sightings were so many that I began to count them. They were mostly perched on leafless trees alongside the bi-ways on which I drove today. They were easy to spot. Sometimes two or three to a tree, at other times a single bird watched the passing parade of cars beneath. I don’t know what it is about eagles. They are so regal and I get an inexplicable sort of feeling whenever I see one. The feeling is a mixture of wonderment, humbleness and promise. Can’t explain it --- its just a feeling that comes over me. The First Nations believe that an eagle sighting is a good omen. Today, I got good omens in spades!
Yup! It’s going to be a good year!
Quicklinks:
Miracle on the Hudson<
Reifel Bird Sanctuary
Swan Lake - Kirov Ballet 12 minutes
Swan Lake - Bolshoi Ballet 2 minutes.
Bald Eagles
Thursday, January 8, 2009
The Ness and Mess of Things
Today at four o'clock I was with a friend at the local Blenz Cafe. Cheryll and I decided that we would get together once a week at a cafe with WII FI and work on our computers. Its kind of a buddy system. It would have been the opportune time for me to blog here, but we ended up doing some technical type of stuff instead ... she has a much better grasp of webmastering and helped me with a few things I needed fixed on one of my sites.
I did get back on the computer when I got home though and funnily enough a muddle of thoughts flooded in. They were muddled because they really have nothing to do with each other, yet there they were, residing side by side in my brain. One of the thoughts I had muddled over before, many times; the other while not terribly original was awakened to my conscienceness by a newsletter I received from a friend. The dueling duo are ness and mess --- well at least they rhyme.
Mess you know, we all experience some at some point or another. We have a mess on the table, a mess in the room, a mess of some sort in our life. My friend Linda wrote that to live a life of richness, we need to deal with the messes in our lives. She recommended that we handle each mess one at a time and we need not be overly ambitious with any time frames as certain types of messes take longer to clean up than others.
I took her missive to heart, looked around my surroundings and decided that yes, I could certainly do with less mess. It was an easy decision. Job one: clean my desk. When I work I like to have my notes, my reference material, my books and files at my finger tips. Although I try to keep things sorted by some indescribable logic the reality is that it all gets jumbled and soon the desk is a mess. I decided to clean it all up --- put away the books, the magazines, the files and other material in their rightful places. It was surprising how much of the "reference material" was no such thing and quickly made its way to the recycling bin.
I work in blocks of time, each block dedicated to a different project so depending on the project, I now bring out the appropriate material, putting it away at the end of the block. I have been at it for a week now. Its been rough going but I am beginning to like the tidy appearance of my desk so much more and have rediscovered the beauty of mahogany. They say it takes 21 days to form a new habit ... methinks this one will take a tad longer and yet, and yet ... I somehow find that an uncluttered desk does indeed promote an uncluttered mind. There is hope.
Now to the ness of things --- aaaahhh, this is a somewhat more complicated thought. And what the heck is a "ness" you say. Well, it came to me many years ago in one of those discussion groups that tilt towards the philosophical, or at least the pretense of being so. Actually, I rather enjoyed those discussions as we dined on controversy the way a gourmet dines on caviar --- both are exhilirating.
...and then I asked at what point do we lose our ness? Eyes turned on me in puzzlement. I explored this new thought that just came to me explaining that while I have lived most of my life in Canada, was born and raised in Japan, I still felt a very strong tie to my ancestry, my Russianness, if you will. At that point I had never been to Russia, yet, somehow, I still felt very connected; culturally, physcially and spiritually. I could not even speak the language very well, you know kids type of patois. Yet there it was, the ness of being Russian.
Others picked up on my thought. Someone brought up President Kennedy who was one of the most iconic of American presidents, was third generation American at the very least, fought in WWII for the United States, yet was often referenced to his Irish roots, and indeed, there was a certain Irishness to the man.
I don't know, I think that the ness stays with us, becomes deep rooted in our psyche and informs us as to who we are. Its sort of like in our DNA. So, if we were able to dig deep down, I mean waaaay deep down into ourselves, whom might we discover ourselves to be? I think that the more appropriate question would be at what point does one ness overtake the last one?
...oh if at the Blenz Cafe, order their hot apple cider, does wonders for the soul on a blustery winter afternoon!
I did get back on the computer when I got home though and funnily enough a muddle of thoughts flooded in. They were muddled because they really have nothing to do with each other, yet there they were, residing side by side in my brain. One of the thoughts I had muddled over before, many times; the other while not terribly original was awakened to my conscienceness by a newsletter I received from a friend. The dueling duo are ness and mess --- well at least they rhyme.
Mess you know, we all experience some at some point or another. We have a mess on the table, a mess in the room, a mess of some sort in our life. My friend Linda wrote that to live a life of richness, we need to deal with the messes in our lives. She recommended that we handle each mess one at a time and we need not be overly ambitious with any time frames as certain types of messes take longer to clean up than others.
I took her missive to heart, looked around my surroundings and decided that yes, I could certainly do with less mess. It was an easy decision. Job one: clean my desk. When I work I like to have my notes, my reference material, my books and files at my finger tips. Although I try to keep things sorted by some indescribable logic the reality is that it all gets jumbled and soon the desk is a mess. I decided to clean it all up --- put away the books, the magazines, the files and other material in their rightful places. It was surprising how much of the "reference material" was no such thing and quickly made its way to the recycling bin.
I work in blocks of time, each block dedicated to a different project so depending on the project, I now bring out the appropriate material, putting it away at the end of the block. I have been at it for a week now. Its been rough going but I am beginning to like the tidy appearance of my desk so much more and have rediscovered the beauty of mahogany. They say it takes 21 days to form a new habit ... methinks this one will take a tad longer and yet, and yet ... I somehow find that an uncluttered desk does indeed promote an uncluttered mind. There is hope.
Now to the ness of things --- aaaahhh, this is a somewhat more complicated thought. And what the heck is a "ness" you say. Well, it came to me many years ago in one of those discussion groups that tilt towards the philosophical, or at least the pretense of being so. Actually, I rather enjoyed those discussions as we dined on controversy the way a gourmet dines on caviar --- both are exhilirating.
...and then I asked at what point do we lose our ness? Eyes turned on me in puzzlement. I explored this new thought that just came to me explaining that while I have lived most of my life in Canada, was born and raised in Japan, I still felt a very strong tie to my ancestry, my Russianness, if you will. At that point I had never been to Russia, yet, somehow, I still felt very connected; culturally, physcially and spiritually. I could not even speak the language very well, you know kids type of patois. Yet there it was, the ness of being Russian.
Others picked up on my thought. Someone brought up President Kennedy who was one of the most iconic of American presidents, was third generation American at the very least, fought in WWII for the United States, yet was often referenced to his Irish roots, and indeed, there was a certain Irishness to the man.
I don't know, I think that the ness stays with us, becomes deep rooted in our psyche and informs us as to who we are. Its sort of like in our DNA. So, if we were able to dig deep down, I mean waaaay deep down into ourselves, whom might we discover ourselves to be? I think that the more appropriate question would be at what point does one ness overtake the last one?
...oh if at the Blenz Cafe, order their hot apple cider, does wonders for the soul on a blustery winter afternoon!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Mental Meanderings on the First Day of 2009
Whether you raucously celebrated the night away or quietly met the first seconds of 2009 with a hearty toast in the company of a small party of eight, six or one: HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Mine was more like the latter. Even the toast was with a nice Shiraz from Argentina rather than a bubbly and it worked just fine with a feast of a dish I simply know as Backalar .. . at least that is what it sounds like. It is a traditional dish of countries on the Adriatic Coast and my husband made it. He learned how to make it from his father. It was delish!
Today was a rather quiet day. No, no Polar Swim for me, did not even go to cheer on the foolhardy. The morning was magical as big snow flakes came swirling down. Dawn had not broken yet, so the white against the dark was nothing short of spectacular. I thought I would wait till the darkness faded and go for an early morning walk and take some photos of this first day of the year 2009. No sooner had I finished my coffee than the snow turned to rain, and then the rain stopped and it just turned out to be a grissly gray day. Better suited for reading by the fireside … or just thinking.
Of course, I got to thinking about what 2009 might hold for us? If only we could gaze into the crystal ball and see what’s in store … or do we really want to look into the future? What would we do differently if we knew? Or, if knowing, would we even put out the effort? Would we perhaps just say that we are powerless? Would it kill our innate will to survive, stifle our ambitions, or dispel our dreams? Perhaps. Thoughts to ponder on this first day of a brand new year.
In a few weeks our neighbors to the south will be swearing in a new president who ran a campaign on CHANGE. I think that is admirable but my fear is that those who voted for Mr. Obama will expect miracles of a man who has taken on an enormous responsibility for a great nation and give little thought to applying it to themselves. I think we should.
If there was just one thing I could wish for as change, it would be that we as human beings begin to take responsibility for ourselves. I think that much of what is wrong with the world today is this sense of entitlement that we somehow developed, particularly in what we term as the First World and specifically in North America.
When my parents and their parents were growing up, there were no financial safety nets. Life was tough. I think of my parents living in Japan during WWII and the post war years that followed. Those were very difficult times. They had to make their own way to survive. Dad lost his business during the war and it took all of my and my sibling’s growing up years for him to rebuild it. I think of my grandparents having to leave all behind in Russia when the communists took over. They too had to make their own way to survive. My grandfather had to start a new life for himself and his family in China, a country that was culturally strange and a language that was foreign to him.
Neither my parents nor grandparents looked for a handout. They never felt that anyone should look after them, that anyone owed them anything at all: not a living, not a job, not a business. They faced and picked up the gauntlet that was responsibility writ large and worked to put food on the table, to clothe and provide shelter. There were no countries for them to flee to as refugees, there were no governments giving them any money or helping them to integrate into a new society. There was just themselves.
We were taught early on that life did not come with rights or privileges. In both my grandparent’ and parent’s cases they had to take responsibility for their own life because if they did not take that responsibility they would not have had a life. I think that most of us, if we think of our parents and grandparents, will have had a background which if not similar, has at least the ring of familiarity. So when is it that we became a nation of marshmallow people? You know, soft, with no backbone?
There are some things that are beyond the scope of one individual to change: one individual cannot change the financial crisis; one individual cannot stop the many wars that are being fought today (46 at last count); nor can one individual solve the global warming crisis. But if every individual begins to live with a sense of responsibility rather than entitlement, great changes will be brought about. What if each would but choose to take responsibility for our own financial wellbeing? What if we decide to build bridges instead of walls in our own personal relationships? What if we choose to use products that are earth friendly? This we can do.
A butterfly in the Amazon Jungle moves its wings and sets off a ripple effect in the earth's atmosphere. The reverberations created and set in motion by that one small, seemingly insignificant act, are witnessed as storms and typhoons in Asia. Let us each be a butterfly.
2009 … a year to rebuild, to strengthen and to create change.
Mine was more like the latter. Even the toast was with a nice Shiraz from Argentina rather than a bubbly and it worked just fine with a feast of a dish I simply know as Backalar .. . at least that is what it sounds like. It is a traditional dish of countries on the Adriatic Coast and my husband made it. He learned how to make it from his father. It was delish!
Today was a rather quiet day. No, no Polar Swim for me, did not even go to cheer on the foolhardy. The morning was magical as big snow flakes came swirling down. Dawn had not broken yet, so the white against the dark was nothing short of spectacular. I thought I would wait till the darkness faded and go for an early morning walk and take some photos of this first day of the year 2009. No sooner had I finished my coffee than the snow turned to rain, and then the rain stopped and it just turned out to be a grissly gray day. Better suited for reading by the fireside … or just thinking.
Of course, I got to thinking about what 2009 might hold for us? If only we could gaze into the crystal ball and see what’s in store … or do we really want to look into the future? What would we do differently if we knew? Or, if knowing, would we even put out the effort? Would we perhaps just say that we are powerless? Would it kill our innate will to survive, stifle our ambitions, or dispel our dreams? Perhaps. Thoughts to ponder on this first day of a brand new year.
In a few weeks our neighbors to the south will be swearing in a new president who ran a campaign on CHANGE. I think that is admirable but my fear is that those who voted for Mr. Obama will expect miracles of a man who has taken on an enormous responsibility for a great nation and give little thought to applying it to themselves. I think we should.
If there was just one thing I could wish for as change, it would be that we as human beings begin to take responsibility for ourselves. I think that much of what is wrong with the world today is this sense of entitlement that we somehow developed, particularly in what we term as the First World and specifically in North America.
When my parents and their parents were growing up, there were no financial safety nets. Life was tough. I think of my parents living in Japan during WWII and the post war years that followed. Those were very difficult times. They had to make their own way to survive. Dad lost his business during the war and it took all of my and my sibling’s growing up years for him to rebuild it. I think of my grandparents having to leave all behind in Russia when the communists took over. They too had to make their own way to survive. My grandfather had to start a new life for himself and his family in China, a country that was culturally strange and a language that was foreign to him.
Neither my parents nor grandparents looked for a handout. They never felt that anyone should look after them, that anyone owed them anything at all: not a living, not a job, not a business. They faced and picked up the gauntlet that was responsibility writ large and worked to put food on the table, to clothe and provide shelter. There were no countries for them to flee to as refugees, there were no governments giving them any money or helping them to integrate into a new society. There was just themselves.
We were taught early on that life did not come with rights or privileges. In both my grandparent’ and parent’s cases they had to take responsibility for their own life because if they did not take that responsibility they would not have had a life. I think that most of us, if we think of our parents and grandparents, will have had a background which if not similar, has at least the ring of familiarity. So when is it that we became a nation of marshmallow people? You know, soft, with no backbone?
There are some things that are beyond the scope of one individual to change: one individual cannot change the financial crisis; one individual cannot stop the many wars that are being fought today (46 at last count); nor can one individual solve the global warming crisis. But if every individual begins to live with a sense of responsibility rather than entitlement, great changes will be brought about. What if each would but choose to take responsibility for our own financial wellbeing? What if we decide to build bridges instead of walls in our own personal relationships? What if we choose to use products that are earth friendly? This we can do.
A butterfly in the Amazon Jungle moves its wings and sets off a ripple effect in the earth's atmosphere. The reverberations created and set in motion by that one small, seemingly insignificant act, are witnessed as storms and typhoons in Asia. Let us each be a butterfly.
2009 … a year to rebuild, to strengthen and to create change.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Boxing Day
Today is neither Thursday nor Four O'clock ... that was yesterday and as it happens, it was also Christmas. Of course I excused myself from my appointment with self. A table laden with roast goose stuffed with brandy soaked dried fruit, wild rice, asparagus (much more appealing to the taste buds than the traditional Brussels Sprouts) and other dishes too numerous to list here seemed like a much more desirable activity than an appointment with self. And it was.
Today is Boxing Day. Well in Canada it is. It is a national holiday.
Traditionally Boxing Day as I recall it was a day of visiting friends. Everything was closed. Gifts left unopened under the tree were taken to their intended recipients. Of course there was always plenty to eat and toasts to drink to. It was an extension of the goodwill of Christmas Day.
If you go further back, Boxing Day originated in England and it was the day that leftovers from the Christmas Dinner were "boxed" and taken to those less fortunate. Hence the name Boxing Day.
Today Boxing Day has morphed into something completely different ... it has become the equivalent of Black Friday in the United States which follows the day of their celebration of Thanksgiving. Stores open early in the day with promises of high discounts, up to as much as 70%. Eager shoppers line up early in the morning (some even camping overnight)so as to be sure to be able to purchase that which they want. Its a mad dash ... more to the point, its pure madness. Moreover, this one day is now becoming a Boxing Week Sale.
I find it so distasteful. Have we as a society become so consumer driven that we squander a day off with shopping? True, the pricing is attractive, but camping overnight? Where has the value of spending time with family and friends gone. We talk about quality time as being important and something we strive for. Is this our idea of quality time?
I guess that this is the chicken and egg question. Did we start to shop on Boxing Day because stores stayed open and offered big discounts or, did stores decide to open for Boxing Day and offer outstanding discounts on products because there was a demand for it? I think it just morphed. I think it just sort began to happen. Stores noticed that on December 27 which was the first day of business after Christmas, they got a lot of traffic, the reason being that stock unsold prior to Christmas was now reduced. Some vendor had an AHA moment and the rest is history.
More is the shame. Our response akin to that of lemmings and sheep. What would it take for us to shun the Boxing Day specials? If we but adhered to our touted family values and took this day of December 26 as a time to be with those closest to us ... would the goods last to December 27? Revolutionary. I know.
Today is Boxing Day. Well in Canada it is. It is a national holiday.
Traditionally Boxing Day as I recall it was a day of visiting friends. Everything was closed. Gifts left unopened under the tree were taken to their intended recipients. Of course there was always plenty to eat and toasts to drink to. It was an extension of the goodwill of Christmas Day.
If you go further back, Boxing Day originated in England and it was the day that leftovers from the Christmas Dinner were "boxed" and taken to those less fortunate. Hence the name Boxing Day.
Today Boxing Day has morphed into something completely different ... it has become the equivalent of Black Friday in the United States which follows the day of their celebration of Thanksgiving. Stores open early in the day with promises of high discounts, up to as much as 70%. Eager shoppers line up early in the morning (some even camping overnight)so as to be sure to be able to purchase that which they want. Its a mad dash ... more to the point, its pure madness. Moreover, this one day is now becoming a Boxing Week Sale.
I find it so distasteful. Have we as a society become so consumer driven that we squander a day off with shopping? True, the pricing is attractive, but camping overnight? Where has the value of spending time with family and friends gone. We talk about quality time as being important and something we strive for. Is this our idea of quality time?
I guess that this is the chicken and egg question. Did we start to shop on Boxing Day because stores stayed open and offered big discounts or, did stores decide to open for Boxing Day and offer outstanding discounts on products because there was a demand for it? I think it just morphed. I think it just sort began to happen. Stores noticed that on December 27 which was the first day of business after Christmas, they got a lot of traffic, the reason being that stock unsold prior to Christmas was now reduced. Some vendor had an AHA moment and the rest is history.
More is the shame. Our response akin to that of lemmings and sheep. What would it take for us to shun the Boxing Day specials? If we but adhered to our touted family values and took this day of December 26 as a time to be with those closest to us ... would the goods last to December 27? Revolutionary. I know.
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