This is how easy it is to forget. To set it aside. To shuffle it back into that place where whatever happens, happens, without my participating in making a difference.

November is Family Violence Prevention Month. A week ago yesterday, I made a commitment to write a blog to raise awareness around Family Violence Prevention every Friday for the month of November.

And already, I forgot!

Which highlights for me one of the realities of an issue as big and challenging as Family Violence Prevention — it is easy to forget the importance of being part of raising awareness.

It is important we remember.

That we not forget. That we keep in mind those who have lost their lives because they stayed in a relationship that was hurting them. It is important we support those who are working so hard to leave, and everyone who is working so hard to those struggling to leave a relationship that is causing them harm. And it is important that we each do whatever we can to stop abuse.

Abuse hurts. Stop it.

There are many heroes in the Family Violence/Domestic Abuse continuum.

The shelters which take in women and their children fleeing violence. And, those that help men who are suffering abuse. Like the Wheatland Shelter that has 4 beds for men, the only male domestic abuse shelter in the Calgary region.

The team at Wheatland are heroes.

There are people of vision, like Kathy Christiansen at Alpha House, who is partnering with Calgary Counselling Centre to provide a program for male victims of abuse that will help them understand, not only what has happened to them, but how it has affected their lives and what they can do to create positive changes.

Kathy Christiansen, all the staff and volunteers at Alpha House are heroes.

So many people are committed to ending violence in our homes. People like Christine Berry who is the Director of Family Violence at Calgary Counselling Centre. Christine is a compassionate advocate for change. A tireless supporter of those who have experienced abuse and everyone who is seeking ways to move beyond it.

Christine Berry is a hero.

There are groups who make difference every day. Calgary Police Service which works with Homefront and Victim Services and all the agencies to ensure victims of abuse are not re-victimized through the judicial system.

You are all heroes.

This past week, Robbie Babins-Wagner presented at a conference in Vancouver on the findings of Calgary Counselling Centre’s research into motivational interviewing and men who abuse. This is important work in the continuum of Family Violence Prevention as it speaks to the capacity for change in men, and women, who abuse. Calgary Counselling Centre is doing some ground-shifting work on changing the family violence/domestic abuse landscape. What they’re doing shows — can can do it. We can prevent, and stop, abuse. Robbie is a fearless advocate for ensuring people receive the support they need to move beyond abuse.

Robbie Babins-Wagner and the team at Calgary Counselling Centre are heroes.

There are countless heroes in the Family Violence Prevention continuum and every one of them deserves to be celebrated and acknowledged for the important work they do and the difference they make every day in the lives of those who have fallen victim to violence in their homes. Preventing family violence isn’t just about helping those who are victims of abuse. It’s also about working with those who abuse to change their lives too. People are not lost causes. People deserve the opportunity to learn and grow and change. , or those who have abused and are discovering ways to change and to free themselves from abuse.

And… tomorrow is Remembrance Day. A day to remember fallen heroes and those who continue to fight for freedom the world over.

And… because I like to share a video on Saturday, I am sharing Terry Kelly’s powerful, Pittance of Time.

May we not forget.

Mid-day and part 2 of 3 x 3 Things I am grateful for today.

Thing 1:    I can work at home today. The snow falls and I don’t have to drive upon the roads, slip upon the sidewalks, bundle up and be conscious of the weather outside. I am warm and toasty inside with my furry and aquatic beasts to keep me company, my music playing and my fingers flying across my keyboard. And the fact my brother-in-law in Vancouver thought he should send me a weather report and photos of the trees all leafy and green outside their window. He’s so funny. Not.  🙂

Thing 2:   Sitting at my desk I look out onto the street in front of our house. Often when it snows, my walk is mysteriously shovelled by an unseen hand. This morning, I got to catch the man in the act. I got to meet Brad, a retired member of the Canadian Air Force. He likes to shovel the walks along our street. I do it because I like to, he told me when I went out to introduce myself and thank him. He was clearing the driveway. The smile on his face as he pushed his big snowblower reminded me of a little boy who’s just discovered the joy of riding his bike without holding onto the handlebars. I didn’t have the heart to tell him we seldom use the driveway.

Thing 3:   I’ve had a couple of phone calls today all of which have connected me to the world beyond the confines of my home office. In that connection I am reminded, once again, of the power we each have to create, to be and to become that which we imagined. I’m working on my presentation for next week — I am presenting at Mount Royal University as part of their DesigNite. And as I type that I realize I have a conflict with my calendar I need to address. I am grateful to have realized it now, and not next week when it was too late.

I am grateful.

And, to complete my 3 x 3 Things!

Thing 1:  C.C. made it back safely. He drove from Saskatoon. The roads were slick. The visibility at times limited. But… he slowed down and made it safely.

I am grateful.

Thing 2:  An evening with friends laughing and sharing at a wine-tasting where the meal was exquisite, the company enthralling and the wine delightful.

I am grateful.

Thing 3:  A late afternoon call with a woman who makes an enormous difference in the world. Andrea Ranson of the Calgary Homeless Foundation rocks! She is helping to not only shift how we serve homeless Calgarians but also how all Calgarians see homelessness.

Snow Statues on the deck

Snow continues to fall, the world around me remains silent.

Ellie the wonder pooch is in heaven. She loves the snow. Loves to dig her nose into it, to fling it up and watch the snow fall all around.

Me. I’m not so delighted. Especially if I have to drive.

And yet, I am grateful.

1 Thing I am grateful for:  I have a car to drive. A warm home, albeit even though the furnace is making a thump thump noise and the man who was going to come and listen to it, or is that look at it, didnt’ turn up. I have electricity, my cup of coffee with foamed milk I steamed myself in my espresso machine. I have an energy-efficient heater at my feet in my office, the water in the fish tank burbles delightfully in the background while Harry, Sally and Sue, my 3 amigos of the aquatic world dart about grabbing specks of food. Marley the Great Cat sleeps on my mouse pad which I have now relegated to his domain. I have discovered that even in the digital world a mouse and cat do not get along. The mouse does not work well on a pad covered in cat hair.

I am grateful.

This morning, my friend Diana sent me over to Lisa’s blog, Cycling Grandma, for a visit. Lisa lives near the Jersey shore. Her world is still engulfed in the aftereffects of Hurricane Sandy and the Nor’easter that dumped snow and frigid temps upon the region yesterday. Many of Lisa’s neighbours still don’t have heat and electricity. Many are sleeping in the YMCA gym, showering and eating in a communal space they were not anticipating would define their world in the aftermath of the superstorm. “Many people are entering their 10^th day without power”, writes Lisa.

Sheltered Spaces

2 Thing I am grateful for:  Yesterday, my eldest daughter text me a photo from her office window. The skies were crystal clear in Vancouver. The temperatures warm. The ocean a tranquil blue expanse touching the distant horizon. She thought she was being ‘cute’, sharing the beauty all around her. I thought she was not as funny as she thought she was!

And I am grateful.

My daughter took the time to share the world around her — that means something right? She wasn’t just trying to rub it in that her world does not include snow and frigid climes? Right?  🙂

More importantly, last night Alexis helped create an event at the Wicked Cafe in Vancouver called, True Talks — an evening of dialogue around the way our bodies are viewed in the media, by our gender, by our communities, cultures, and how we see ourselves in our own eyes.. People spoke about their experiences, they shared and connected and encouraged and inspired each other to keep taking steps into well-being, to keep taking steps to make a difference.

I am inspired by my daughter. And I am grateful.

She is making a difference. She is making her world healthier, brighter, more open and honest. And, what she is doing is rippling out into the world to create waves of difference in how we perceive and see ourselves, our bodies, and our capacity to make change happen.

3 Thing I am grateful for:  Last night my youngest daughter and I connected over a late dinner at ‘our restaurant’. It’s just around the corner from her place, a five-minute drive from mine. It is our  Thursday night gig. Chatting. Sharing. Laughing. She just started a new job and is loving it, but she misses the sense of making a difference she felt working for the United Way of Calgary and Area. “I’ve got a plan,” she told me. And her plan includes going back to University to get an MBA with a focus on Social Responsibility. She is committed to making a difference.

I am grateful.

My world is filled with love and beauty. Light and laughter. My world is a place where I find myself expanding into the wonder and awe of being where I am, who I am, how I am right now, in this moment now.

I take a deep breath and let gratitude fill me up with joy. I am grateful.

Our Mayor Naheed Nenshi has a campaign asking Calgarians to express 3 things for Calgary they can do. Today, mine is to express 3 X 3 things that I am grateful for.

This was my morning list of 3. I’ll be back this afternoon and again this evening to express my 3 Things.

What’s on your gratitude list today?

It snowed last night. the roads are covered in a delicate white blanket. The branches of the trees are dusted in white. Noises are muffled in the snow. The air thicker, heavier, as if the cold has tempered its capacity to carry sound.

And it promises to get colder.

Sometimes, I wish the weather just wouldn’t keep its promises!

But, the weather is the weather. there’s little I can do to change it. All I can do is dress for it.

So, if that’s the case, why do we humans spend so much time grumbling about something we cannot change?

When I worked at the homeless shelter, the weather was not only a common subject matter for clients and staff, it also often acted as a draw for the media.

It was inevitable. A weatherman would announce an imminent drop into a sub-arctic coldspell sweeping in from the north and a reporter would call. “How are you getting ready for the cold snap?” he or she would ask.

“By doing what we do every day, 365 days of the year,” I’d reply. “Doing everything we can to keep clients safe.”

“Can I bring a camera down and interview you. Maybe talk to some of the clients?”

And they’d come down, cameraman/woman in tow, set up outside in the driveway, or sometimes on the second floor day area, and ‘ask away’.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  Media play an important role in helping agencies connect with the general populace. Media help get the message out. We must all take action to change the face of homelessness in our city.

But our fascination with the weather in our northern climes doesn’t help us adjust to ‘what is’. It just keeps us focussing on how we’d like it to be — which is always warmer — unless of course it’s a summer heat wave and then all we can talk about is how we’re all hoping for a break in the heat.

Yesterday, on my way for a coffee shop a block away from the office where I’m working, I took a shortcut down a back lane and passed a couple huddled together around a shopping cart that was parked against a wall of one of the buildings lining the alleyway. They shared a cigarette and something in a brown paper bag, chatting and laughing together as I approached. They saw me coming, and turned away from me either in an effort to avoid eye contact or perhaps to hide the brown paper bag. I carried on.

On my way back, I stopped to say hello. I’d bought a couple of extra coffees and muffins and asked if they’d like them.

“We don’t need charity,” the woman quickly responded.

“It’s not charity,” I replied. “It’s one neighbour helping another. It’s cold out here and I thought maybe a coffee would help warm you up.”

The man eyed the cardboard tray of coffee and muffins I held in my hands. “Is there sugar and real cream?” he asked.

I smiled. “Yes. I brought extra.”

“I miss sugar and cream,” he replied, reaching out for the tray.

The woman looked at me suspiciously. “We’re not neighbours,” she said.

“Yes we are,” I replied, handing over the cardboard tray to the man. “I work in that building, just down there.” And I pointed to the office building I was heading towards further down the lane. “And I’ve seen you out here before.”

“Ya know, they don’t got sugar at the Drop-In,” he said, naming the shelter where I used to work. He perched the tray on top of a box in their shopping cart, pulled out a cup and wrapped both his hands around it as if collecting up its warmth.

He put it back into the box, picked up several sugar packs, tore them open and poured them all in at once to the now unlidded cup of coffee. His hands were weathered. His fingernails dirty. They looked cold.

The woman watched the sugar spill out into the coffee. She reached for the other cup on the tray.

“That still doesn’t make us neighbours,” she insisted.

I smiled. “True. But it doesn’t mean I can’t offer a couple of strangers a cup of coffee.”

“We gotta a place,” she said as she too poured several pouches of sugar into her coffee. “We just come down here…” and she paused as she thought of her response. “For the change of scenery,” she finished her sentence with a laugh.

They both laughed uproariously. I laughed with them.

And walked away.

“Thanks for the coffee,” they both called to my retreating back.

“You’re welcome,” I called back.

And I thought about what else I could do to help out my neighbours. Maybe carry a couple of pairs of mitts in my purse. Some clean pairs of socks. Lip balm to give away.

We are all neighbours and there’s always something we can do to help eachother out.

How many times have you heard the phrase, “I couldn’t help myself”?  How many times have you used it?

Well, this morning it’s true for me. Last night, I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t not stay up to hear Mitt Romney’s acceptance of what was true for him in the election last night. I couldn’t not stay up to listen to President Barack Obama accept what was true for him.

I’m glad I did because, I couldn’t help myself. I had to do it.

Even though I told myself, I can hear the replay tomorrow. It’s past midnight. I’ve got to get up in the morning. I couldn’t not stay up to hear them live.

President Obama’s speech was passionate, heartfelt and inspiring. I like the man I’ve seen on news shows and in debates. I like what he stands for. I like how he responds to criticism and to accolades. I like him. And while I’m not American, listening to his speech last night, I gained a better understanding of my neighbours, and friends, to the south and I gained a deeper appreciation of what makes one man, and one nation, great.

This is not a political column. I don’t pretend to have great insight into the workings of the ‘big machine’. But last night (early this morning) I came to a realization of what it is I so admire about my neighbours to the south. You are not victims of the past. You are victors of the present. You are visionaries of the future. 

In his speech last night, President Obama said.

“That’s why we do this. That’s what politics can be. That’s why elections matter. It’s not small, it’s big. It’s important. Democracy in a nation of 300 million can be noisy and messy and complicated. We have our own opinions. Each of us has deeply held beliefs. And when we go through tough times, when we make big decisions as a country, it necessarily stirs passions, stirs up controversy.

That won’t change after tonight, and it shouldn’t. These arguments we have are a mark of our liberty. We can never forget that as we speak people in distant nations are risking their lives right now just for a chance to argue about the issues that matter, the chance to cast their ballots like we did today.”

He made me want to get up and get engaged, get involved. He made sense of why we all need to vote, to exercise our right to have a say in the very vehicle we have constructed to determine who leads our cities, our provinces/states, our country. And then he said,

“Tonight you voted for action, not politics as usual.

You elected us to focus on your jobs, not ours.”

And then…

“But that doesn’t mean your work is done. The role of citizens in our Democracy does not end with your vote. America’s never been about what can be done for us. It’s about what can be done by us together through the hard and frustrating, but necessary work of self-government. That’s the principle we were founded on.”

Ah yes, people are elected to office to represent ‘the people’, not their self-interests. They take up the mantle of governance to be the voice and counsel of those who elected them to office. It is a reciprocal relationship and yet, so often, we ‘the people’ forget our role in that equation. We acquiesce to politics, to authority, to people in position to whom we not only cede power over governance of our cities and provinces and country, but also our lives.

I stayed up late last night to hear a great man speak up and out for a great country.

Sure, I can sit here in the northern climes of Canada and be part of the voices that deride or mock our neighbours to the south. Sure, I can criticize what I judge to be their short-sighted financial policies, their lack of universal health care, their military apparatus, their pollution, their greed, their arrogance.

But none of it would be true and all of it would be unworthy. Of them. Of me. Of my country.

Because what I heard President Obama say last night is that it takes everyone to create change. It takes everyone to make a difference. And in my view, that everyone includes me. It includes all of us living and breathing the shared air of this planet earth we call home.

Sure, the United States is a powerful country — but, they stand on the same continent, share the same waters, air, land that we do here in Canada. And between our continent and others on this planet, there are the shared waters that flow between us.

We are all connected.

And the sooner I let go of my belief that we are separate and distinct, disconnected through the name of the country stamped on our passports, the sooner I’ll find my difference connecting to what makes we humans great — our capacity to not just improve ourselves, but rather, our capacity to transform our world, person by person, heart by heart.

Thank you President Obama for reminding me about my capacity to make a difference. Thank you for reminding me that we are all born to live our greatness. It’s not just your job. It’s mine too.

My eldest daughter sent me a text last night. “I am really grateful for you” she wrote.

My heart sings.

My youngest daughter and I have a dinner date on Thursday night. It’s our commitment to each other to do it at least twice a month.

My heart is light.

I haven’t spoken to my mother in weeks.

My heart is heavy.

To lighten my heart I must do the things that unstick it. I must soften it through kindness, compassion, Love.

Note to self. Phone my mother.

Today.

My eldest sister Jackie is our mother’s caretaker. She takes her to doctor’s appointments, the bank, lunch. She and her husband have her out to spend a weekend at their house at least once a month. My mother isn’t always the easiest person in the world to spend that much time with, but my sister does it. She loves her and expresses her love through the thing my mother wants most, time with her daughter. Time being part of the circle of love that she gave birth to.

Awhile ago, my mother told me she didn’t want to have lunch with me because I would probably say something to make her angry. I got angry and didn’t ask her again. Though I do think about dropping off flowers, or a note, or something sweet to the assisted living lodge where she lives.

Problem is, I only think about it. I don’t put action to my thoughts.

All the good intentions in the world won’t create a world of goodness if I do not act on my intentions.

See, my mother and I never had that great a relationship. We never spent time together, mother daughter, without what I judged as her neediness and what she saw as my rebellious nature clashing. As we aged, I resisted time spent defending myself against what I judged to be her onslaught of criticism. She resisted time spent with my constant defensiveness. I like to deal in reality, I told myself. She likes to live in make believe.

And now we sit, two women on distant shores of the river that divides us — figuratively and literally. We live in the same city but she is on the north side of the of the river flowing between us.

I have a lot of excuses for why I don’t connect with this woman who gave me birth. And believe me, all of them are good!

I mean seriously. She has a phone too. Why doesn’t she just call me sometime?

I can be so funny when I’m riding roughshod over my conscience and my heart, flinging off excuses as I gallop through fields of self-justification.

My mother is 92 years old. She wants only peace in her life. Why would she want to spend time with a daughter who she sees as having habitually created strife in her life?

Now, don’t get me wrong, my mother isn’t ‘innocent’ in the distance between us. There’s a lot of water under this bridge and I’m not the only one who poured it in! (So there!)

It took two to create this ocean between us, says my heart with a defiant stomp of its heavy left foot.

Softening my heart isn’t about right and wrong. It’s about doing the right thing. Doing the things that unstick the hardened areas of my heart to let harmony and joy flow all around.

It takes two to keep the distance static. It only takes one to shift direction to start closing the gap. It only takes me to make the step across the river.

And all the self-justification in the world doesn’t really cut it when my heart knows that which it wants most. I am not being true to myself when I resist Love.

Note to self. Call my mother. Take action. Today.

What about you? Is there someone in your life where your thinking is consumed with self-justification and rationalization to ensure you keep your distance? Is there somewhere in your heart that needs softening?

And yes, I know. You gotta protect yourself. You gotta keep your distance….

Really?

I know I have no need of connecting with some people from my past. My thoughts of them are not filled with rationalizing why I shouldn’t.

But with my mother… my thoughts are often filled with reasons why it’s not my fault I need to keep my distance. And in my rationalizing why ‘it’s not my fault’, I create a faultline that has more to do with keeping me standing on the other side of the river, resisting opening up to that which I want more of in my life. Love.

Time to change directions. Time to make a difference in the area of my life where I need to move on, towards and into Love. Time to let my heart sing.

I first met Sarah Moss at a course we were both attending six and a half years ago. In my eyes, she had it all. Her heart was beautiful and her world was complete with a loving husband. A beautiful son. Caring parents. Friends. She looked to me like the perfect wife, mother, daughter, friend.

But surface observations never reveal the depth of someone’s life. Over the next few years I’d get to know Sarah better as we shared those areas of our hearts we don’t reveal on first acquaintance.  I discovered there were places of deep pain and sorrow in Sarah’s life. Her marriage broke up, she struggled to make ends meet and come to grips with what had happened. And through it all, I saw that which I had observed about Sarah when first we met — her beautiful heart shining brightly.

Today, Sarah shares her gifts of the written word in her Guest Blog.  Please do drop a note for Sarah, and let her know you too see the beauty of her heart shining brightly.

Making a Difference

by Sarah Moss

For years I dreamed of being the “ideal” mom, homemaker and wife. I envisioned my life would be a perfect one, where I did everything right, my marriage and children would be as perfect as possible and problems would be far and few between. Was I ever wrong! Now, living in reality, in the midst of a divorce, raising two boys on my own who are almost never clean and tidy and have special needs that take a lot more time and energy than I ever thought possible. Cooking, baking, canning and yes, even housekeeping some days, take a definitive sideline. I’m realizing that making a difference sometimes just means accepting the world as it really is.

When I cling to the belief that I must be perfect, that I should be able to accomplish everything and still have energy left in the day, I get so worn out that I can’t figure out up from down, left from right and it all falls to pieces. When I stop, take a deep breath and look at what I can realistically accomplish, I realize that I can do everything I need to. I need to revise my view of what being the “ideal” mom is. I don’t have to have all meals planned and prepared in advance, I don’t have to make all their clothes by hand, canning will likely not happen until the boys are MUCH older, if then, and baking is a novelty to be done on special occasions or during home economics class (I homeschool). What the “ideal” mom may look like to me is that I spend time with them, teach them, mentor them and provide for them while still taking time to take care of me.

When I example to my boys that it’s okay to take care of me, I teach them that it’s okay to take care of themselves too. When we recognize we have a need and we take steps to meet that need, we are living healthfully and it will make a difference! If I can teach them that they don’t have to be perfect, they just have to do their best, I will have made a difference in the world. When I example to them that I expect myself to be perfect, I destroy that difference. Right now, I’m working hard at exampling to them that they have great worth, that they are loved and that healing is an important process to undertake. When life covers us in the mud of its horribleness, it’s okay to take the time to clean it off.

I’m learning and feeling my way along this process, it takes time to change, but by choosing change I make a difference immediately in my home and circle of influence, as well as making a difference for the future because I am raising men who hopefully will not expect perfection, either of themselves, their families or their circle of influence, instead drawing others to only do their best and to allow themselves time to heal and care for themselves when it’s needed.

I’m praying that by living life to my best, by allowing perfection to fall by the wayside, that I’ll make a difference in the world; in the world we live in now and in the world my children will lead in the future.

Saturday! And time to celebrate heroes in our midst.

In the aftermath of Sandy, New Yorkers and millions of others along the eastern coast continue to dig out from Sandy’s wreckage. Some continue to be without electricity. Some struggle to get gas. To buy groceries. To rebuild. And through it all, brave acts are performed. Neighbours connect. Lisa Rosenberg writes on her blog, Rising from the Depths in the name of Bipartisanship, “We’re all managing to stay in touch somehow, finding friends in corners of town with power, who invite us to a “charging-up” get together:  bring your devices, a load of laundry: enjoy a cup of hot coffee, a few hours of heat.” The New York marathon is cancelled. Rebuilding continues.

Lisa and her neighbours and everyone who is continuing to dig out from the storm are all heroes.

This morning, reading Elizabeth’s post, My Values #3 Dependable, at Almost Spring, I was inspired by her words of wisdom, truth and beauty. Elizabeth writes of what makes the value of being ‘dependable’ so important, and how she expresses it everyday — very inspiring!

Elizabeth is a hero.

Yesterday, as Ellie the wonder pooch and I walked along the path, we caught up to a woman whose walk consisted of moving a few feet forward, stopping, looking up, binoculars pressed tightly against her eyes. When we approached, she dropped the binoculars and smiled. “What do you see?” I asked. “I see Pine Grosbeaks feeding on the pinecones,” she replied. I looked up into the snow laden boughs of the pine tree and was in awe of what I had not seen before. “And I see beauty everywhere,” she said raising the binoculars to her eyes once again as Ellie and I walked away, albeit, more slowly now to give us time to savour the beauty everywhere.

That woman is a hero. She reminded me of the beauty all around. To stop. Slow down. And simply savour the world around me.

And, one final retrospective hero accolade.  When I visited Elizabeth’s blog this morning, she used a quote from Ben E. King’s 1961 hit, Stand By Me. Except, it was attributed to John Lennon. I went online and sure enough, there are many instances where the lyrics to Stand By Me are attributed to John Lennon. And I know they’re not. In 2009, I worked with a group of client musicians at the shelter where I used to work and recorded Stand by Me. Area musicians came in and volunteered their time and talent. Lanny Williams from The Beach Advanced Audio donated studio time and staff to cut the final recording and Lewis Levin of LL Video volunteered his time to create the video. It was an amazing project. Surrounded by such giving and talented people made a difference.

So… as my Saturday sharing, I share the recording here.  Everyone involved in that project was a hero. Clients, staff, volunteers, musicians, everyone. Heroes all.