Any Man of Mine

"You gotta shimmy shake.  
Make the earth quake.
Kick and turn, stomp, stomp."
- Shania Twain.

***

I hate being new.

I really hate being new.

I want to be the expert with the answers, that can engage a room and bring the team together; that no one can imagine how on earth they ever survived before.

(Low expectations)   

Being new could not be any farther outside of my comfort zone.

***

I have not driven in the snow in probably 10 years.
How fitting to be working in Hanover, Ontario.

(Country roads and blowing snow - but quite possibly the most beautiful sunrises in the province.)

I have used an iPhone and a MacBook for at least the last decade.
It is of no surprise that I'm now on an Android and a Dell.

I have spent the last 365 days with Mal.
I am remote in Hanover for, what is beginning to look like, forever.

I go to bed at 10pm and wake up at 6.
The training team goes for dinner at 10pm and some days, sees the sunrise before they go to sleep.

I've been here two weeks and I have no idea where the staff entrance is to the site and twice I've had someone show me.

There is nothing more challenging for an obsessive perfectionist than ensuring that, at every possible freaking turn, EVERYTHING IS NEW.

Perhaps that is the lesson in itself.

***

Interestingly enough, I know this now.

I have an astute awareness to completely see my own shortfalls and patterns that perhaps I did not see as easily in my previous working life.

I see myself from 30,000 feet, as if I'm in the top corner of the room, and observe every tiny detail of how I'm acting and feeling.

(And many times look for the remote for the rewind button).

So it appears to be the greatest of all tests to try and shift my behavior into a new line of thinking.

***

As I'm surrounded by a group of individuals on a training team that is truly the best in their class, I have to remind myself to release my perfectionistic tendencies and embrace the process of learning and growth once again.

Every morning, I take out my journal and write down 5 good things about the day before.   What I learned, what I appreciate and could express gratitude for, and what I am getting the hang of - even if it's as simple as adjusting to my new routine.

It will all come in time and I won't be the new girl forever.

Sometimes we need constant reminders that although transitions are never easy, there is progress and movement where we may not even notice.

***

It is that silly Shania song from so long ago that finally cracks me.

I am sitting in our, soon to be, Match restaurant in Hanover.   There is plastic on the tables, boxes still up over the tv's, 30 constructions workers wandering the site in hard hats and boots.

We are challenged to meet our opening deadline and modifying our training schedule on the fly.  Regardless of any delay or change, the training team is handling every issue with grace and class.

We have finally finished our morning sessions and are on a break when a construction worker turns up the volume and puts on a Shania Twain playlist.  For some reason, it strikes me as absolutely comical that a burly, bearded man is belting out Any Man of Mine, so I decide to join him.

As I'm wiping down tables, laughing and singing the song (threatening to line dance), all my worries temporarily fade away for one fleeting moment - and it finally registers that I haven't allowed myself to be who I really am.

I have put so much pressure on myself to learn and absorb everything I can in 8.2 seconds that I've forgotten to have fun.

I've forgotten that every single one of us on this team started somewhere, that we all add a different perspective and value - and instead of comparing myself and my product knowledge to that of the others, how different could that outcome be if I focused more energy on my own unique point of view and built on that.

I stand back and take a deep breath and smile.

There is so much beauty in remembering to honour the beginning.

What A Feeling

"Take your passion...and make it happen
Pictures come alive ~ you can dance right through your life"
- Irene Cara

***

The drought is finally over.

Thank.   
God.

Personally and professionally the taps are flowing once again.

Hallelujah.

I spent the first weekend (after dry January), on a bus trip with 40 very happy people who were sipping away on some of Niagara's small boutique wineries' finest cab's.  (And yes, the gnocchi was mighty fine that I had for lunch.)

Speaking of which, the whole 3 day fasting thing was rather fascinating to explore and not at all what I envisioned.

I thought I would be so exhausted that I would need to take frequent naps throughout the day, counting down the minutes and hours to go to bed.  It was, in fact, completely the opposite.   I felt like someone had stuck my finger in an electrical socket I was so wired.   For three days, there was nothing but two bulletproof coffee's per day that entered my system and the caffeine impacted me in a way I never could have foreseen.  I barely slept.   I was so focused I would imagine it would equate to taking Adderall and I can't imagine why I did not discover this when I was in school.  I bet studying for Chemistry would've gone much better on a fast, than alternating study sessions at a keg party.

I did not, however, miraculously stimulate cell renewal and fix the sun damage on my face.  Sadly, I still had to keep my dermatologist appointment, which, after "suffering" 3 days of no food - the doctor told me was not skin cancer, and I quote "it's age."

Fabulous.

Which brings me to a point.

I am wrong far more often than I am right.

***

Things I have said in the past year and a half ~

• I am not going back into the workforce to work for someone else
• I am going to work as a full-time Reflexologist
• I will have multiple revenue streams and never again dedicate my time to working a full-time job again
• I will not get a job "less than" what I was doing before
• I am going to be a best selling writer like Sophie Kinsella or Elizabeth Gilbert and be on Ellen

Reality.

• My idea of selling the house and moving into a double wide trailer was not popularly received
• I had to put bags of frozen peas on my hands the pain was so bad from practicing reflexology and there is no way I could do this full-time 
• While I still totally stand firm on my belief in multiple revenue streams, it appears a base is somewhat necessary if you have not won the Lotto 649.  (Is there even still a lotto 649 - ??)
• There is no such thing as "less than".  The statement should read "I will get a job only doing what I love."
• I still have hope.

***

It's funny how often we can apply Einstein's definition of insanity to our lives.

During the month of lovely dry January, I was up at 6am sharp every morning, coffee and journal in hand, with one solid intention of getting a new job that I loved.

I have notes from the past 567 days of not working - jobs I've applied for, lists of responsibilities or accountability that I wanted in a new role, meetings I've had.

The first thing that I noticed was that none of my searches reflected what I actually wanted to do.  I wanted a role that included auditing, training, advising and coaching but I was searching for leadership roles that didn't necessarily focus on those areas.

The second thing I noticed was that I had boxed myself in.

I was searching for jobs that were within a km radius of Burlington, but the roles I was interested in weren't likely to have a home base here.

Every morning I asked myself "what is it that I need to be doing differently to find a role that will match what I'm looking for."

I made two changes.   I changed the title and the radius.   If I wanted a position that carried range, what would happen if I opened up my search to Ontario, instead of limiting it locally to where I was.  Who cares if it was based out of Windsor if the job was mobile.

The second I actually saw "the" posting and researched it, I was pretty certain it was where I was going.  There were too many synchronicities that lined up and seemed to fit, and you know me - I love a good story.

***

I have a picture of the Four Seasons hotel in Bora Bora on my bulletin board in front of where I write.    I also have a picture of the Ritz (confession - somewhere in Mexico, but no clue where).   It has blue umbrellas on the patio and white linen, a two tier spot that overlooks the ocean.  It reminds me of the story I wrote about with the Girl on the Right when I applied for the Cancun job a year and a bit ago.

If I could create my perfect dream job anywhere in the world, I would be a Quality Auditor or Brand Experience director for something to do with luxury travel.  I could write at night and be by the ocean, more than not.

Maybe one day that dream will come true, but to get there requires me to make a shift back to hospitality again and specialize in these areas.

***

My new role focuses on auditing and training.  This is the part I loved most in my last position that had started out in a consulting capacity - to survey the field, find opportunities and help raise the bar.  I have the opportunity to work with someone I know, which always makes the journey more fun.  The home office is based out of a city my former step-daughter goes to school, my two old roommates now both live in, and some wonderful former colleagues reside.

But the coolest part of the entire scope is where it starts.

***

November 17, 2018, I was on week 7 of the Artist's Way book and project I'd taken on.  The chapter refers to being a child and what I missed or lacked.   There are questions I had to answer - "As a kid, I missed the chance to...", "As a kid, I lacked ...", "As a kid, I dreamed of...".  As I filled in the answers of my homework, one by one, I got to "I am sorry I will never again see -"

My answer was "I'm sorry I will never again see Sarnia."

I couldn't really think of one reason why I would ever go back and yet it was my childhood and such a special part of my life.

***

That's where it starts.

The job starts in Sarnia.

I mean, come onnnnnnn.  Even I find this somewhat comical.

I couldn't even write this script myself.

Full circle.

I'm quoting lines from Flashdance and INXS and Whitesnake might not be far behind.

I can run Canatara Park, get fries by the Bluewater Bridge (okay, it might be a bit early for that), walk the school yard at Cathcart (does anyone have a child I can borrow?  I will probably get arrested walking through there without a kid...) and drive down Thurston Drive to see my old home.

(hmmm.... which doesn't look like it's going to be in a Mini anytime soon according to the weather on the 402.  The entire car situation may require some further thought.)

Regardless, I am so excited I cannot wipe the smile off my face.

I'm going home.

Some days, life is pretty freaking awesome, isn't it?

Whatever It Takes

"I do whatever it takes
Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains"
- Imagine Dragons

***

There are two things I love more than just about anything else in this world.

Red wine   (I could get specific)
    +
Food  

If I was left alone on a desert island with a (barrel) of red wine and an Executive Chef, I think I would probably be just fine.

I mean, obviously, it would be difficult but I would try my best.

Just me, food, wine, solitude, waves, the beach, a little hut over the water with that glass bottom so you can see all the little fishies swimming around in bright bold colors.

What a nightmare, right?  

All that ALONE time.

Table side caesar salad, you know the kind where they crack the egg into the bowl and mince up the garlic right beside you?

Guacamole, with fresh jalapenos and chips.  (Not the bull shit kind you get this time of year that are basically green peppers.   The real - can't take my contacts out of my eyes after I've cut one - kind.)  

A nice, cold seafood tower full of oysters, lobster, crab and shrimp with that little pink onion champagne vinaigrette, whatever it's called.

Or a cheese board.   Triple cream brie.   Have you ever had that?   If you're lactose intolerant, I'm terribly sorry because this stuff is to die for.   Even the cashier at the St. Jacob's farmers market said it was equivalent to crack cocaine.   Just sayin'.

I'd make due.   

Just me, the local vineyard and the world's top Chef.

All suffering happily together.

***

I am currently 26 hours without food.

Let's back this up.

My normal rate of consumption is coffee within 4 minutes of waking and breakfast not too far after.   Every 3-4 hours, a snack here or there.   Some veggies and hummus.   Cheese and crackers.  (Latest craze is the sweet potato crackers from Costco.)  Maybe pistachio nuts.  

Okay, okay... sometimes some chips.   

Okay, most nights some chips.   

Okay, damn it, nearly every night some chips.  (Just plain though, nothing fancy.)

Let's be serious.

I'm always thinking about and figuring out my next meal.

To dine out is pure luxury and I enjoy and savor every single last bite of absolutely anything I consume.

(Usually while raving - oh. my. gawd.  this is sooooo amazing - you HAVE to try this!)

So to not eat for me is a BIG deal.

To not eat or drink any wine is completely and utterly ridiculous behavior that I feel deserves one of those disclaimers like a Jackass movie.

"Warning!   Not eating or enjoying daily alcohol consumption can strongly affect your ability to enjoy life. "

(In my humble opinion.)

***

Late Summer, I went to see my Doctor because I had one (tiny) spot on my nose that didn't seem to want to heal.

I basically wanted to go to say I had gone, and for her to miraculously tell me that it was nothing and should go away in time.  Not so much.

Amongst my imperfections, any cut or wound I have heals with a keloid scar.  When she suggested that she just basically burned a hole in my nose and it would fix everything, I wasn't such a keen fan of this option on the off chance that it wouldn't heal properly.

And, as much as I'm all for embracing your imperfections, I don't need to create any new ones.

So I bought some time by attaining a dermatologist appointment early this year and thought I would see what natural options were available for what appears to be Solar Keratosis or Actinic Keratosis (all totally self diagnosed.)

There is not an oil or ointment I have not tried.   I wanted so badly to be able to say - oh yeah, frankincense - man, if you get that, it cures everything.

Notta.

***

Dry January was part because my inside voice knew I needed to smarten up my daily habits and part to reduce any inflammation in my body.

It's fairly common sense to note that its' the first thing to go if you want your body to fight anything. It's disruptive to sleep patterns, heavy pressure on the liver, messes with our digestion, blah blah blah.  

A sad but necessary evil for multiple reasons - January totally just a coincidence on timing.

***

As I was running out of options, short of praying, I started researching fasting.

There is a process called autophagy that takes place roughly after 16 hours of no food, whereby your body starts to kill off dead or damaged cells.

There are some really fascinating studies that have been done on everything from maintaining weight loss to the overall reduction of inflammation, cancer cells, even diabetes.  Something happens when we stop processing food and toxins and allows the self healing mechanism within our own body to kick into high gear.

My curiosity got the best of me, and as a last resort, thought - what if this is what it took?

What if I could actually starve my body into autophagy and generate new cell growth that could fix this before my dermatology appointment?

Burning torch on my nose.
Sacrifice of two of my most favorite things on earth.

Whatever it takes.

It's worth a shot.

Two bulletproof coffees a day for a total of 72 hours fasting.

***

So, here we are.

27 hours into 72.

And sadly, today I watched a great video about the ongoing benefits of Intermittent Fasting which I seriously wish I had watched before I agreed and decided to do this 72 hour charade.

16 hours off, all food consumed within an 8 hour window - sounds much more appealing than LACK OF FOOD.

Anyhow, hindsight is always crystal clear, isn't it?

Just think how easy intermittent fasting will be after I've accomplished this.  

Note to self: further research required before my next adventure.

So, as the clock keeps ticking....

I will think about what tomorrow brings - as I go to sleep tonight counting not sugar-plums, but gnocchi with a nice white wine truffle sauce and a sprig of rosemary on top.

Kryptonite

"I'll keep you by my side with
My superhuman might -
Kryptonite"
- 3 Doors Down

***

Sour keys used to be my kryptonite.

I used to bike down to Blackwell Variety store, on my 10-speed bicycle, and eat as many of those damn sour keys as I could, usually before dinner.

I remember once buying an entire round plastic tin, and they barely lasted a day or two.

Giant sour keys.

I wonder how I ever gave them up.

***

Over time, sour keys morphed into Skor bars, Crunchie bars, Dutch Double black licorice, and Rowntree's fruit gums.

I traded it all in for Coke.   (cans, not lines, to be clear...)

At one point, I was drinking four cans of Coke a day.

Then I swapped it out for coffee and cigarettes and about 20 lbs.

Eventually I dropped the smokes and started drinking wine.

Maybe one glass on Monday's, one or two on Tuesday's and Wednesday's, a few more on Thursday, and capped with a couple double IPA's or a second bottle on the weekend.

***

I'm not addicted though.

Like I'm not pulling open the freezer and taking a swig of vodka for breakfast, or anything, and I would very rarely ever drink before 5 o'clock (wine o'clock) unless it was a real special occasion.

It's habitual.

I'm a habitual drinker.

I'm not gonna lie.  

I like it.

I like the warm and fuzzy glass of red wine that seeps through my veins at the end of the day and makes my whole system go ahhhhhhh, thank you.  That's much better.

I like it a lot.

I like it as much as the sour keys, cans of Coke, Skor bars, double double Tim Horton's coffee (side note: thank god I gave up double, double), and all the rest of my habits I've had and changed into something else.

I like these things as a celebration.  

A reward.   

I'm not a "I had a bad day, I want a glass of wine" drinker.  

I'm a "who hoo, let's have a glass of wine and celebrate" drinker.

And in December, there's a whooooole lotta celebrating going on.

***

Okay, I can't even say that it really has anything to do with December.

It has more to do with zero responsibility.

I've had a whole year (um, and some) to catch up with so many people, and every time I set up a date it starts with "when are you free for a drink?"

And before you know it, the one or two on Tuesday becomes a few more, just for today.

***

I gave up booze for January.

Last year, I lasted exactly 8 days on this resolution, when I convincingly made an argument that I might never again be unemployed without any commitments and schedule, and I should just enjoy a glass of wine and stop torturing myself.

And I sure did.

For the entire rest of the year.

***

So, this is round two.  

(Well, three, because I successfully did this a couple years ago).

The deciding factor was a Christmas lunch date in Toronto.  

I was offered to "park in the driveway" at a girl friend's house, and in that moment, I chose taking the train over driving because I wanted to have celebration drinks for the holidays.  That might seem perfectly reasonable to anyone and actually quite responsible, but to me, that meant not drinking was not an option.

At that exact same moment, I knew my habit was starting to dictate my choices and that meant I need to give myself, literally, a sobering reality check.

January needs to be dry.

***

As with all resolutions (and habits we want to change at any time during the year), it is unlikely that it comes easy, since we are going to war with our part of our brain that runs automatic loops.

My automatic loop goes to Yoga class, comes home and has dinner with a glass of wine.

Auto-pilot.

My conversations flow easier with a glass of Australian Shiraz or a Pacific Coast Cab.  I like smelling the wine and figuring out the 'notes' of each glass.

Now I have to re-program myself back to pre-evening drinking days and create a new plan.

***

I post this, not to share my wine habit, but rather to send a note of encouragement to anyone trying to gain control of any unhealthy habit this month.  

Maybe it's food control, maybe alcohol, maybe it's the annual try at quitting smoking.  Maybe it's even as current a challenge as a Social Media fast.

There are two things I repeat to myself to help me make any adjustment to my routine.

1.  I'm not giving anything up.

Giving something up sends a message to our brain that we are in deprivation.   And that, in itself, will create obsessive tendencies to overthink about whatever it is that we are "giving up" and the resolution is likely to crash and burn at rapid speed, while we become progressively more irritable and angry at the world.

I am trying to make an effort to think "This is my choice.   I'm choosing to gain control of my health." or something similar, because that seems to make the path much more bearable.

Even with technology, "This is my choice.   The newsfeed will never end.   I am choosing to regain control of my time."

Believing that we are gaining, not giving up something, might make all the difference.

2.  "Change is difficult in the beginning, messy in the middle and beautiful at the end." 

I read this quote recently and I love it.  When I catch my mind trying to run it's default program, I keep reciting this to myself.  

This is normal.

We are trying to change a habit, and our brains don't want to work that hard.

***

I'm not planning to give up wine forever.

(All my friends are thinking "thank God")

... but I did need to shake things up and get this back in check.

***

We can make changes in our lives easier or more difficult by the mindset by which we approach them.

All humans have addictive tendencies.  Our brains build habit loops and like to do as little work as possible by re-running the same script over and over again.

That's one of many reasons New Year's Resolutions are traditionally broken within the first two weeks of the year.  

Change is always difficult in the beginning, because we are challenging the default.

But it might also have something to do with feeling we "have to", "should", or "need" to change something, instead of "wanting to", that results in a feeling of hardship, instead of achievement, and eventually demise.

It is easier to resent the difficulty and fall back, rather than to keep going to where the beauty lies.

There is nothing we set out to do that is impossible, if we program our belief system in a way that will interrupt the regular scheduled program and rewrite a new script.

"Believe you can and you are halfway there".
- Theodore Roosevelt 

Here's To Us

"Here's to us, here's to love
All the times, that we messed up".
- Halestorm

***

I was going to name this post "Back to the Future" in honor of the time capsule that we opened last night, but I have been having so much fun picking song lyrics out for my book posts, that I decided to keep it up.

This song is from a band called Halestorm, who opened for Shinedown some years ago and now leads shows of their own.   The star is Lzzy Hale who defines rockstar more than Joan Jett, and has a piercing voice that can hit notes completely off the charts.  "Here's to us" was our song a few Christmases ago as we all raised our glasses and belted out the words.

***

There was something different this year at our Annual Girls Christmas party, and maybe that something different was me, or maybe we all felt it.

13 years ago, we created a time capsule and we all brought something (or somethings apparently because there was far more in there than I thought) and placed it inside a container to be locked up indefinitely.

As we sat around in a circle and the items started to be pulled from this container, I was asked if I felt nostalgic at the moment.   Right away I said no, because at the time, it was a reminder of some of the years I wasn't present or I had missed out on things and I re-felt some of those feelings all over again.      But as the night went on and I watched all around the room, I felt overwhelmed with how lucky we all were to be standing in that room.

Each one of us, (and some who no longer attend), were part of a different era or evolution of our lives.    We are connected by our own individual uniqueness and the group dynamics change by every addition or subtraction into that circle.

We are drawn to others by our similar circumstances, by similarities or by differences in our personalities, by certain seasons in our life, and some relationships that are new and only forming now.

We've seen each other through heartaches, hangovers, crumbling grief of loved ones, triumphs and failures, families being created and children growing up.

In essence, we've supported each other in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer and for better or for worse.

This morning, I went to hug everyone in the room before I left and one of my friends said "Sarah, you are giving the best hugs lately."

Aw, how amazing is that?!

My appreciation and gratitude for this group of women who knows me better than I know myself, who puts little love hearts on my blog posts and sends encouraging words, who lights up my day with the magic words, "When can we get together??"- is overflowing from my heart today.

It's not lost on me that one day, one Christmas, there may be a missing member from this group.   That one of us will move on to whatever is waiting for us past this physical world and we will be raising our glasses once again to remember them.

The song continues with the verse -

"Stuck it out this far together
Put our dreams through the shredder
Let's toast 'cause things got better
And everything could change like that 
And all these years go by so fast
But nothing last forever"

Each Christmas, I have a deeper fulfillment from this one night we all get together.   A gratitude that cannot be explained for how special it is to be surrounded by this incredible group of women I've grown up with and spent 27 years of my life.

My hugs will only get stronger as we age as I cherish every moment we have had and have left.

Here's to us.

Merry Christmas, my beautiful friends. 
I love you.
💜

Shallow

I was originally intending to write a post called "Digital Detox".  I've been thinking about it for a while now, brewing up the points I wanted to make and trying to arrange them in some form of order in my mind that could deliver a compelling message.  

After I started reading Tim Ferris's book "Tribe of Mentors" yesterday afternoon, I was so completely struck by one particular paragraph, I decided to change the title to "Shallow".

I love titles that carry multiple meanings and after many, very funny, text messages with my girlfriends this week about Bradley Cooper and the new Lady Gaga "A Star is Born" movie, I decided Shallow was perfect.   Whoever would've thought that dreamy Bradley Cooper would sing, play guitar, write and direct a movie, while playing the lead male role and have the number one song on iTunes?  I am now one of many women (and men) who is contributing to the second wave of revenue for this movie (those seeing it for the second time), which I am officially doing tonight.

And so, in tribute to my fabulous friends, Bradley Cooper's piercing blue eyes and Tim Ferris's wise quote, this post is renamed Shallow.

***

Being busy does not equal being productive.  And there is absolutely nothing more seductive than the power of social media and the internet to elude us away from our To-Do lists and into a state of autopilot busyness.  With one thumb print, we scroll through a familiar mindless loop, switching between news websites, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook and Instant Message conversations.  I call it the Social Media Sinkhole because there truly is no end unless you physically choose to shut it down and put the device away.  The impact to our productivity of operating with this information overload, combined with the speed and attention required to endlessly sift through pictures and words, drains our energy away from any other intention.

We each have an energetic threshold daily.  Rest and repair.   Fuel and recharge.   It has been taught to us in so many different ways that we are not limitless and we require an equal balance of give and take with our energy to perform optimally.

Let's pretend that we are made up of exactly ten energetic units.  Some mornings we might wake up missing one unit of energy already.   We didn't sleep well or our spouse or child was ill and kept us up at night.   Perhaps we had a drink or two the night before.   (Greatest line I ever read was "For every glass of alcohol you consume tonight, you will lose one unit of energy for tomorrow.")   The same could be said for diet or exercise as we add or take away energy for today and tomorrow.

It is also scientifically proven that the first ninety minutes of our day is the most productive time for our brains.  I have read study after study that shows this is to be true for 90% of the population.  Whatever it is that is the most important thing we want to accomplish, ideally should be done within the first ninety minutes we wake up.

Yet, what has become a household routine for the average person?  

The first thing most people do when they wake up in the morning is check their phone.   (Followed by the loop of apps they flip between on autopilot.)

In essence, we are giving the power away of our most constructive time of day.  We are using the battery reserve of our energy available to face the entire day, and squandering it to a mindless busyness that only serves to drain our resources.

Remarkable if you think about it.

***

This excerpt from Tim Ferris's Tribe of Mentors nails it.

"The disease of our times is that we live on the surface.  We're like the Platte River, a mile wide and an inch deep.  I always say, If you want to become a billionaire, invent something that will allow people to indulge in their own resistance.  Somebody did invent it.   It's called the Internet.  Social media.  That wonderland where we can flit from one superficial distraction to another, always remaining on the surface, never going deeper than an inch.  

Real work and real satisfaction come from the opposite of what the web provides.  They come from going deep into something - the book you're writing, the album, the movie - and staying there for a long, long time."

- Steven Pressfield,  (Screenwriter, Fiction writer, Narrative nonfiction, self-help and advertising author)

***

I started a book this week with a twelve week program, designed to improve creative writing skills.  It's called "The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron and has been around for twenty five years.  Each chapter represents the work to be done for the week and digs through self doubt and creative expression, while using writing prompts and questions to uncover a deeper layer of creativity within.

The book focuses on two main components.

The first is called "Morning Pages".  The first thing to do when I wake up is to write for three pages, long hand, thirty minutes roughly, straight.

The second component is an "Artist Date".  Every week for twelve weeks, I am to commit to a two hour block of time to do something, anything, that is dedicated to solitary time alone.

In order to write for thirty minutes first thing in the morning and ensure my homework is done for each chapter, I have been forced to shift from beginning my day with the Social Media Sinkhole to starting unplugged and focused.  My phone is off limits until I have had my coffee, written my pages, walked five miles and set my intentions for the day.  But the result of removing technology during this timeframe has also sharpened my awareness of our diminishing human connectivity.

This morning was my first Artist Date.

I picked the Lakeshore Coffee House at the bottom of Brant Street and Lakeshore Road in Burlington.   I picked it for a few reasons.   I've only ever been there once.   It is situated with a view of Lake Ontario by the window and it is a local, no name spot without a chain associated with it.   A little, eclectic part of Burlington that isn't a tourist trap and has no history to me at all.

When I walked into the Coffee House, I couldn't help but smile.   The walls were gold and burgundy which isn't a trendy set of colors in modern decor.   It is, however, the colors on the outside of the book "The Artist's Way".   The coincidence struck me as comical as I walked up to the counter.

I ordered a latte and an egg sandwich on white bread (I will start my latest rant arguing against whole grains in another post) and went to sit down.

I walked upstairs and sat in a brown leather bucket chair by the fireplace.   I had no phone, no music, no pen and paper.   Just a credit card in a plastic bag in case it rained.  I just sat and took it all in.

There was a plaque up on the wall behind the coffee bar that said "Espresso Yourself".   I thought of that song "Express yourself" and the scene from the movie of Mr. and Mrs. Smith.  

There was a couple of realtors working away upstairs behind me.   I heard the odd word of "land" and "gains" here and there.

My latte arrived from a friendly, twenty something guy making small talk.   It had a perfect heart in the middle of the foam and a piece of dark chocolate on the side plate under the mug.   (If you ever need to purchase me a gift, dark chocolate with the sea salt on it is a perfect win... hint, hint).  My egg sandwich on lovely white bread arrived, made to order, hot and fresh, just the way I like it.

As I drank my latte, I was focused on a group of five by the window.  An older group than I, maybe mid late 60's, early 70's, they had formed their chairs in a circle.  Each one of them took turns, no one speaking over the other or interrupting, as they drank their coffees with light, easy conversation.  The women had their hair done, make up on and sporting their Sunday best.  The men in khakis and loafers.   And they just continued their gentle ping pong match of words, back and forth, in balanced harmony.

I thought to the challenges of our generation and beyond as we fight to maintain our depth in human connection.   The toll on our bodies from binge watching full seasons of television on Netflix, the inflammation in our hands from typing and scrolling, the sinkhole of social media and the despair of searching endlessly for something that is never found.  The energetic cancer that begins the second the alarm goes off and the phone is picked up and engaged.

My heart swelled as I watched the circle of men and women at the window.   Smiling, drinking their morning coffee and exchanging stories.

How ironic is it that the true magic of connectivity lies in our ability to disconnect.

Optical Illusions

I love Summer.

I mean, I really, really love Summer....

I love the sun shining pretty on the lake, the sand beneath my toes, the little snack shack by the Burlington waterfront that serves ice cream and french fries, and the long, endless days of light.

Summer is one of the few reasons why I chose my latest adventure.

***

I woke up one day late in July and decided to go for a walk.

It was a clear blue sky, sunny kind of morning and my shoulder was giving me some signs I needed a day off exercise and a nice long walk in the sunshine.

I walked a 5 mile loop from my house.

The first 45 minutes I had my earphones in, listening to my latest top-40 list full crank, as I strolled down the side streets to get to the water.

I passed a skinny lady with an ironman shirt, a lady full of make up speed walking, a man with a dog almost as big as he was and a lady with a little dog in a stroller.  (Who takes their dog for a walk in a stroller??)

I didn't take much notice of them - just kept walking ahead on my mission for my 5 miles.

When I got to the beach, I paused my playlist and decided I would walk the rest without music.  I would ask myself one question and just listen to what surfaced for the rest of the time I walked.

The question was 'what is it that I want my life to look like in 5 years?'

As I walked down the beach, there was all kinds of chatter.   A family was getting photos taken, kids were playing in the water and building sand castles, couples sat in beach chairs reading books.   There was an air of play and rest as I tuned in to everything around me.

The water was lapping quietly, the seagulls squawking away, the Canada Geese sitting pretty on their declared real estate.  There was even a few tent campers hidden up amongst the trees and I remember wondering how long they would stay and if they would get told to leave by the city.

I walked across the waterfront to the pier, past the splash pad and the swing set.   Bikers and skate boarders breezed past me and I soaked it all in.  As I walked the last mile back up Brant Street, I thought how lucky we were to have all these boutique-y little shops near us.  The belgian chocolate place that I really need to make sure I try, Joelle's dress shop (where I'm going to buy something as soon as I make some decent money again), 7th Wave Yoga studio (my second home) and Tamp coffee that I stopped at for an Americano to drink on the last stretch home.

***

The next morning I woke up and I thought - that was pretty cool.   I think I'm going to do that again.

So I walked the 5 mile loop and I smiled at the regulars I recognized from the day before.

On the third morning, I decided I was going to do this for 30 days.

I absolutely loved being in the fresh air and starting my day this way, and who knows how much longer I will be able to spend 90 minutes a day walking before my professional commitments require a shift to my fitness regime.  It's approaching August and I wanted to enjoy the last month of the Summer and take it all in.

That third morning, as I walked along the beach, I noticed there was one tent that had been there all three days.

I'd been reading in the Hamilton newspaper about campers who were occupying the beaches due to high rent and I felt quite sad.

I wondered whether I should watch for who it was and bring them a coffee or some breakfast one day.

***

By the second week, I had established a routine.

I smiled at the iron lady, the dog stroller lady, the make up speed walker.   I knew them enough to say good morning and carry on.

When I got to the beach, I saw the same tent up on the hill, back by the trees and looked up to wave.

There was definitely a guy living there.

He had long blond hair and a deep tan, like someone would who was living on the beach.

One morning he didn't have his tent.   He was lying on the beach under a blanket with just a cooler nearby.

I made it a point every day to look up and smile and wave at him when I went by.

I wondered how he ended up there - living amongst the trees.

Did he have a job?   
When did he lose his home?  
Did he have any friends and why hadn't they offered to help him?   
Or had they and his luck had run out and he had overstayed his welcome?

One morning, I was walking along the trail and he biked past me.   All of his belongings were on his back and a guitar and I wondered if he was going to a liquor store or something to play for money to strangers.

***

Only two mornings out of 30, it rained.
And I was so driven to complete my 30 days that I decided I was going anyways.

Rain or shine.   

5 miles.
30 days.

So I left my phone at home and went on my way.

There is something about fighting the elements that is so exhilarating.

I was smiling, walking through the rain, sky completely black, as I took my familiar route to the beach.

Iron lady was out but no one else that is on my usual path.

When I got to the beach front, he was sitting under a sheltered area playing guitar.   His tent and belongings were beside him and my heart was aching that he had no where to live and here he was, just playing and singing away under the canopy.

He stopped playing and said to me, "Rain or shine, eh?"

I smiled and said, "Yes, absolutely.   Rain or shine.   It's just water."

And to that, he smiled back.   He said, "Yes.  Yes it is."

As I walked the beach in the rain through an absolute downpour, I was wondering if I should have stayed under that canopy and listened as he played a song.

I love live music more than anything and what better tale than sitting and listening to someone play music who might need a friend.

***

By the third week, I stopped taking my phone at all.

I wanted the full 90 minutes of silence to tune in to everything that was taking place.

It was becoming a ritual.

I would wake up and have my coffee and within 20 minutes, be out the door for my walk.

I loved seeing the sun rise, looking at the lake - so peaceful one day and white caps and dancing the next.

And every day, I waved at my homeless friend up amongst the trees.

***

Last week, I noticed there was a tiki torch, that was new, by the area of where he lived.

I wondered if someone had bought it for him or if he purchased it himself?

It was the first time, that for a split second, I thought - what if he's choosing to live out here?

***

The last ten days have plodded along, as I continued to ask myself questions and walk in silence for 90 minutes every morning.

What is the best use of my skills and what direction should I turn next?

Am I open to all new opportunities and possibilities or am I rigid in my mindset on how I want things to unfold?

What are 5 things I'm grateful for in the past 24 hours?

As time went on, answers were beginning to surface daily and I found my thirty days far more profound than I ever anticipated or expected.

So much so, that today was day 33.

***

This morning, I stopped the lady with the dog and the stroller and said hello.

Her dog's name is Daisy and she is 14 years old.   She has to take the stroller because Daisy can only walk one length of the waterfront trail now that she is so old.   She doesn't want to stop taking her for her walk so she had to improvise.  What remarkable love for her pet that she bought a buggy to ensure Daisy doesn't miss out.

I stopped the make up lady that speed walks and she told me that my smile every morning encourages her to keep going and finish her walk.

I saw the man with the dog at the park, who smiled at me and for the first time in 30 days, said good morning and asked how I was.

But the best was the homeless guy on the beach.

When I went to the beach front today, I walked the full length as always and I didn't see him up amongst the trees.  I started to wonder what was going to happen to him as the seasons started to change and it was getting colder.

As I was exiting the beach past the rest rooms and water stations, I stopped for some water.  As I looked up, there he was taking a shower at the outdoor showers.   (Yes, he was clothed... )

He turned off the taps and looked over at me and put his hand out.

He said, "I'm Jason, by the way".

I smiled and said, "I'm Sarah."

He said, "It's nice to finally meet you after all this time."

I told him that I didn't know how he did it, how he spent every night out here but I bet he had an incredible view at sunrise.

He said "and sunsets."

Yes, and sunsets.

I asked him what he was going to do when the weather started to turn.

He said, "I'll go indoors.   But hopefully that won't be for another month."

I said, "you are here by choice?"

He told me he's a freight broker and has been for 19 years.   He had a condo downtown Hamilton and his company has a few lawsuits on the go so he decided to take a break - to live minimally and enjoy the Summer by the beach.

I walked the rest of the way home beaming with his story, but my heart was filled with awe.

***

How quickly do we pass judgement on people or situations with limited knowledge?

We form opinions with gaps in information, without challenging our traditional belief system or the awareness of alternate possibilities.

Not everything is as it appears at first glance.  Our perceptions are just optical illusions, and not always a true reflection of what lies beneath.

"Every single person on this planet has a story.   Don't judge them before you truly know them.    The truth may actually surprise you." 

This morning was the best.