“It was a day of early beginnings and late finishes. It was a day to celebrate and experience like no other. Not because it was all that different. No, it was as it always is, just a day. But it was a day to celebrate because it was my day. It was another 24 hours in my life, and in my life, every moment is worth celebrating.”

I wrote that paragraph in my journal last night as I headed off to bed. I was tired. Content. Satisfied. I’d accomplished lots. Done lots. Experienced lots. And I was happy.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I generally end my days happy. Heck. I start my days happy! I just generally have a high happy set-point. I like my days better that way. I don’t do well living in mediocrity.

And the day had been awesome. From an early morning breakfast my amazing team and I had organized to kick-off National Depression Screening Day where three speakers shared their vision and insight into depression and its impact on their lives and what they saw as the possibilities for change to the Mayor’s presence and willingness to take the test live, the morning started out with a bang. And it kept going. A late afternoon reception for the remarkable Tim Richter who has left the Calgary Homeless Foundation to lead the charge of the nationwide alliance to end homelessness to dinner with my youngest daughter, the day was filled with remarkable and memorable moments.

And yet, it was a day just like the others. And, it was a day like no other.

Just as today will be a day like no other. Because today is the most important day of my life. Today is the day I get to live on purpose. On track. With passion. In pursuit of my dreams, my vision, my goals, my aspiration.

Today is the only day I get to do it my way, right now. Sure, there’ll be tomorrow too but right now, this is where I’m at and it’s up to me to fill this moment with what matters most to me. It’s my responsibility to live my day on the other side of my comfort zone, out there in the heady airs of my lightness of being filled with laughter, freedom and passion.

It’s my day.

What about you? Are you willing to make today like no other? Are you willing to live it up in the rapture of now knowing this is your one and only precious life. Your time. Your moment. Your possibility to be all that you are, right now, right here.

What could happen today if you chose to be, right now, right here, the lightness of your being filled with all that matters to you, filled with all that you want to create more of in your life?

What kind of difference would you make today if you chose to take each step filled with the passion of being your most amazing self exactly the way you are, in this moment right now, right where you’re at?

These are the questions I like to ask myself every morning. And every morning the answer is always the same — If not now when? If not me who?

It doesn’t matter if life has served me a bowl full of cherries or nothing but peanuts. What matters is what will I make with each moment I’ve been given.

Will I let this moment go to waste wishing and hoping things could be different. Or, will I leap into the moment filled with the desire and knowing I have the capacity to create change, to make a difference right now in my life so that in my being all that I am meant to be I create a world of possibility all around me.

The choice is mine. How I step into my day makes a difference. Let me step with lightness and joy being me every step of the day.

 

 

It was a morning of two back-to-back speaks on behalf of the United Way yesterday. I had just finished my first talk when a woman walked up to thank me. “Your talk really touched me,” she said. And she began to cry.

“Breathe,” I told her quietly. “Big deep breath.”

She took a big shaky breath and kept talking. “It’s just I moved here three years ago from,” and she named a former Communist Bloc country. “I too had such an experience and what you said is so true. We have to help people when they fall.”

I use the story of the ‘bad man’ and falling on the road to hell as the foundation of my United Way talk. I use it to demonstrate that people fall, but when there’s a net to catch them, the fall doesn’t kill them. And, when caught in caring arms, it’s easier to stand back up again and walk free.

The woman and I chatted for a few moments. She told me about working with immigrant women to help them acclimatize to their new homeland, and to help them put their pasts into perspective.

I thought about what she may have experienced in her homeland. What so many of these women from foreign lands experience every day in the name of war blasting through their country under the guise of freedom.

As I drove back downtown I listened in on a conversation on CBC RAdio’s, The Current, as Anna Maria Tremonte interviewed people about sexual abuses in Syria, where, as happens in so many conflicts, rape is used as a weapon of war.

Lauren Wolfe, the Director of Women Under Siege, a project on sexualized violence and conflict at the Women’s Media Centre founded by feminist Gloria Steinem in New York spoke about the shame that befalls a woman who is raped. How she is cast out, or married off if a man takes her body out-of-wedlock. She talked about women being forced to build their own huts and having to live alone on the edges of her village. About being stoned. Being thrashed. Being shunned.

Rape is a cheap way to wage war. Through rape, the entire community is destroyed by shame. And when you destroy community, you gain control and have a better chance of winning the war.

And I was saddened. Infuriated. Confused.

I know this is happening in our world today and I don’t want to know this is happening in our world today. And that is the problem. My not wanting to know is not making the kind of difference I want to make in the world.

And I thought about the woman who came up to speak to me after my talk. What courage. What commitment. What hope.

I may not be able to stop rape in villages on the other side of the world. I may not be able to prevent war or make peace in foreign lands, but right now, right here, I can decide to be the peace I want to create in the world. I can make choices to activate my capacity to make a difference, to be courageous, to be committed to create hope where none exists.

There is so much we can do right here, right now to make a difference.

We can volunteer. We can speak up. We can write our government representatives and tell them what we want them to do about poverty, justice, affordable housing, and yes, the abuse of women everywhere. We can take action.

Sitting here at my desk on a somewhat snowy morning in Calgary, it’s hard to imagine that right now a woman is being raped, a child is being abused, a bullet is being fired. And yet, somewhere in the world, this is so.

The biggest challenge of our age is not that it is happening, it is that we believe we are powerless to do anything about it.

I can’t, nor do I want to, fly around the world to areas of high conflict. I’m not trained nor qualified to step into a war zone and make a difference.

What I am qualified to do is make a difference from where I sit this morning, right now. What I am capable of doing is to use the tools at my disposal to give voice to what is happening in the world around me and to ensure whatever I do, I am not contributing to conflict, to abuse, or war.

I can be my best at being a peace-maker by creating peace through every act and every breath. Like the woman who spoke with me after my talk, I can give back to ensure there is a net to catch people when they fall, and caring arms to help them get back up again.

What about you? Are you willing to make a difference by taking action?

 

___________________________________________________________

 

Have you voted today?  http://www.avivacommunityfund.org/ideas/acf13435

 

This morning I am asking for your support. You can make a difference — and it’s easy!

Below, I have pasted in a letter my daughter, Alexis, has written on Facebook in support of Project True’s bid for funding at the AVIVA Community Fund site. Yes. This is a shameless commercial bid to support my daughter. She is working with Project True, a Vancouver based not-for-profit looking to raise funds to build a healing centre for women and men with eating disorders. And, I’d like to see her succeed. And, I’m asking for your support!

It’s relatively simple. The AVIVA Community Fund is a ‘by votes’ competition. The project that receives the most votes goes on to each subsequent round until a winner in 3 separate categories is announced. Each winner receives a portion of the $1million AVIVA commits to the Fund every year.

Every vote makes a difference. Every vote counts. Over the course of each voting round you can vote once a day (from each separate email address you hold). It’s important to vote every day as your vote bank depletes whether you use your daily vote or not. 13 days = 13 votes per voter email.

So…. please help make a difference. Take a view moments to click on the link below — if you’re not registered — it only takes moments to register to be eligible to vote. And then, voting every day only takes seconds.

You can also make a difference by posting the link to the Project True page on your Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest pages. You know the jig. Exposure is the key. This is where the power of social media and its capacity to ‘go viral’ works best!

In the next few days, Project True will be posting a short video — stay tuned!

Please, do what you can to help. You will truly make a difference today, and every day you vote.

This is the link to the Project True page at the AVIVA Community Fund site.

http://www.avivacommunityfund.org/ideas/acf13435

And, this is the letter my daughter shared on Facebook.

Dear Friends and Family,

I am reaching out to you today on behalf of the thousands of Canadians who are struggling in silence. A year ago, I was one of them.

For many years I kept my battle with an eating disorder a secret. I was afraid of what the repercussions of breaking my silence might be. What I didn’t know until I began my journey towards recovery was that my silence cost me far more than being free.

My recovery would not have been possible without the incredible community I am surrounded by. My family, friends, and coworkers have given me the gift of strength and courage in the face of my fears. This was not a journey I could have made alone.

I know though that I am lucky. I had the financial, emotional and medical resources that countless others do not have access to. In my city alone, the waiting lists for treatment far exceed the available care.

I am working now with a non-profit organization called Project True. It is our mission to ensure that every individual who is struggling with disordered eating, regardless of age, gender, income, or level of health, has access to support, compassion, and hope.

It is my hope that, in breaking my silence, I might pay forward the incredible gifts that were given to me. My recovery has taken a community. Building the first Project True Centre for Body Image and Eating Disorder Recovery will too.

Help us build it. Cast your vote daily at http://www.facebook.com/l/dAQGUaYbRAQGSRd62SJk4zDbCjNIWSzQz32Me2uJ_h-Jiig/www.avivacommunityfund.org/ideas/acf13435

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. With all my heart,

Alexis

We are home.

After a relatively uneventful day of travelling we are back on the other side of the country, nestled in our home city at the foot of the Rockies. As we drove in from the airport last night I commented on the most striking difference between Calgary and Ottawa — there are no trees. As we travelled down the Deerfoot Highway into city centre, no trees lined the freeway. No trees meandered up hillsides. No trees shed leaves.

It is a stark difference between Ottawa. There, as we drove into the city and connected to the airport freeway, trees lined the roadways, hillsides, everywhere. And all of them were changing colour — except for the conifers of course. They were still dark green and fully dressed for winter.

This is a prairie city. Though the Rockies are just a short 45 minute drive to the west, here, the plains spill out onto the wide open prairies where winds and time scour the landscape leaving few trees standing amidst a view that goes on into tomorrow.

It is a stunning juxtaposition. Verdant valleys and hillsides on one side of the country, sparse windswept prairies on the western slopes.

To get the long view erase the trees. To see into tomorrow, keep the landscape sparse.

Yesterday, before we left I walked down to the dock and soaked in the silence and beauty of the water. I wandered up the trail into the woods, stepped over twigs and rocks, meandered around fallen branches and stood beneath towering pines. It was misty. Cloudy. Magical. Chipmunks chattered. Birds flit amongst the leaves. Sweet song rising in the morning light.

My hostess and I took a jaunt over to an artist’s studio to pay tribute to his works — stunning icons Janusz Charczuk creates in the style of the old masters. I must use gold leaf, he told me, in order to be faithful to the tradition of the icon and to glorify God. His beautiful log cabin studio, tucked into the woods, is  a peaceful oasis that invites the soul to rest, to breathe deeply, to revel in the beauty of the world all around.

And then we were off. Bags full. Car packed. We hit the road and drove west to Ottawa.

And now we’re home.

and the highlight of the day…. as we flew westward the Northern Lights danced across the horizon to the north. As we drove home, sheets of green and yellow and white light shimmered in the night, lighting up the sky in a technicolor display of majesty.

It was stunning and a much appreciated welcome home!

I am tired this morning. Our flight was delayed an hour and a half out of Toronto. What should have been an 8:30 arrival into Calgary turned into 10pm. Baggage. Car. Drive home and it was after 11 when we got to bed.

And now, a busy day ahead. Much to do. Much to organize, create, experience.

As I downloaded my photos this morning from my iPhone I looked in awe of where I was yesterday to where I am today. There is beauty all around. Being home. Being in my own bed. Being greeted by Ellie (who is still sulking btw — the wonder pooch doesn’t like it when I go away). All of this makes for beauty of its own nature.

Yesterday, I walked in the trees and stood by the water and breathed into the silence of the world around me.

Today, I breathe into the quiet of this early morning hour letting the silence and familiar comfort of my home settle upon me like the morning mists upon the lake.

I have a busy day ahead.

It isn’t the places I go that make the difference. It’s the joy I breathe into where ever I am that creates the greatest joy in my life.

Yesterday I was immersed in autumn leaves falling. Today, I am immersed in my everyday life, my spirits lifted by my sojourn by the lake, my heart full with time spent laughing, sharing, being with people I love.

Life is good. And that makes all the difference in the world.

 

Today was to have been a guest post but… because I was away on holidays, I didn’t organize it! So… not guest post and just a really short post from me — mostly because it is our last morning here. The trees are ablaze, there is no mist on the lake and Ula and I are off to take in a few more exhibits on the Madawaska Valley Studio Tour before C.C. and I pack up the car and head to the airport at 1pm.

We spent the day yesterday driving through the countryside visiting artist studios. Tucked in the folds of valleys ripened with fall leaves, nestled in clearings in the woods, the artist studios we visited were oasis of creativity blossoming in the valley. It’s clear the Group of Seven have influenced artists throughout the valley. As has Robert Bateman who used to paint in the are. But perhaps the most spectacular and influential visit was with Horst Maria Guilhauman. The setting of his studio is like a postcard from a Monet masterpiece. Gently sloping hillside filled with autumn flowers in bloom leading to the waters of a dark surfaced pond reflecting the golds and reds of maples and dark green of the firs standing sentinel on the far side. A duck drifting along the pond’s surface. Clouds scuttling by overhead, their reflection the only movement on the water’s surface. Birdsong. A crow cawing. A two-storey wooden house with giant windows looking out to the verdant scene beyond.

We enter and Horst greets us, his German accent still detectable after 40+ years in Canada. He is wiry. Energetic. Intense. At 77 his energy is contagious. His enthusiasm for his art, philosophy, life inspiring.

He gives us commentary on the paintings (mostly prints and giclees) on the lower level of his gallery before leading us up to the second floor. “Watch your head”, he calls out as we climb the circular metal stairs leading upwards. And when we arrive in his ‘aerie’ we are greeted by giant paintings of incredible tones and colours and hues. This is where his ‘real’ art is on show, he says. This is where he shines.

And wow! What a show. The upper level is awash in light and colour. Thre three rooms leading back to his studio are a masterpiece in and of themself. Stunning.

Horsts ability to capture realism is unbelievable. And his ability to translate thought, philosophy, idea into substance on the canvas is incredible. Do visit his website. While seeing his paintings on the screen is good — in life they are absolutely incredible.

As we were leaving, Ula, who is also an artist asked him about creating fog on her canvas. “You can only use oils’ he tells her. And then goes into an indepth lesson in how to create he effect she seeks.

Gracious. Convivial. Welcoming.

We spent an hour with Horst Maria Guilhauman and I wanted to race home, haul out my paints and get busy. I may just do that next week!

Blessings to all. We fly out this evening and tomorrow, I’ll post photos from the week. I shall miss my sojourn in the forest by the lake, but shall carry the memories in my heart – and beauty never grows old. It is always inspiring my spirit to take flight and soar!

And that is what made the difference here – to be surrounded by nature’s beauty, soaking up the essence of the forest and lakes, the sky above. Immersing myself in wonder everyday. Beauty never grows old when nature is at play with all my senses.

The woods are silent this morning. Still. A gentle fog has rolled in from the lake, shrouding the world in misty silence. It is beautiful. Serene. Mystical.

And in their mysterious sheath, heroes walk. Heroes of everyday makings. Heroes who serve and help and smile as they go about doing their everyday business with extraordinary style.

Yes, it is Saturday. Time to celebrate heroes in our midst.

Ula, one of our hosts here at Barry’s Bay is a hero. Yesterday, we went off to discover leaves falling and reflections on the water in Algonquin Park. C.C. and I rented a Mustang convertible for our journey. Electric blue it’s sleek and powerful and on a day like yesterday, a real attention getter. Especially if the roof is down and your passenger is wearing a knitted hat that resembles a dog’s face complete with grey furry ears that flap in the wind!  (I’d post the photo but can’t from this computer — later!)  We had a blast and Ula made it even more fun with her outrageous get-up and welcoming smile where ever we went.

Ula is a hero.

We were too late for lunch at Killarney Lodge but the gatekeeper didn’t hold it against us. While ‘outsider’ guests are not generally welcome outside of meal times, he let us on the property so we could wander the trails and take pictures of the flowers and trees. “I like your car… and hat,” he added with a welcoming smile.

The gatekeeper and everyone who keeps the area so beautiful and serene, are heroes.

On our way back from gawking at the leaves yesterday we stopped for a late lunch at the Mad Musher Restaurant in Madawaska. At the table beside us a young couple shared a meal and oohed and aahhed over their young 8 week old son, Ryder. Watching that couple, chatting with them, witnessing their love and excitement over their child, I felt wrapped in a world of possibility. I remembered those days of new born awe. Such beauty. Joy and trepidation all wrapped up in one. And always, the knowing that what you are embarking on is of great importance to the world. Shepherading in a new birth, a new life to this world of wonder is a significant and courageous task.

New parents everywhere are heroes.

And…. how can I not give a shout-out to Nature? Her magnificence. Her beauty. Her stunning display of colour, texture, tone, depth. Yesterday, surrounded by leaves turning, by blue sky soaring into infinity, by water stretching from tree lined shore to tree lined shore where birds flew high and squirrels and chipmunks chittered in the trees and deep in the forests unseen beasts roamed, I breathed deeply of nature’s bounty and was grateful. Deep within the rapture of the moment, I felt nature wrap her arms around me as I fell into awe with the wonder and majesty of the world all around.

Nature is a hero and those who safeguard her forests and lakes are heroes too.

And… to set the mood for celebrating heroes and nature all around, below is a video of David Arkenstone’s Magic Forest.

David Arkenstone and all those who create music and art to celebrate nature all around us are heroes.

The world is misty grey this morning. There is no surface to the lake, no definition between the water and sky. One world melts into another erasing the far shore, erasing all definition of matter on earth. Only the trees stand out in stark contrast. Red. Green. Orange. Yellow. Grey on grey trunks standing tall in the forest all around.

Our hosts held a dinner party last night. Thirteen people gathered around a table laden with food and wine. Laughter. Story. Sharing. The conversation ranged far and wide. Most of the guests have retired here. Most had spent parts of their childhood in the area only to return to the call of the lakes and rivers and forests as they moved from worker bee to retirement mode.

From police officers to Information Technology managers to corporate executive the table was crowded with lives lived being productive, adding value to economies, societies, families, humanity.

I listened and watched and participated in the discussion and felt the tug of memory pulling me into its thrall.

All through my growing up years, my parents loved to entertain. They loved to gather people from all walks of life, from every economic scale and sit them at their table and ply them with amazing food, wine and conversation. They loved the act of creating connections. Of introducing this woman to that person who might help her achieve a goal. Or that man to that person who might help him fulfill a dream.

My parents were masters at the art of setting a table and filling it with laughter, light and love.

Sitting at the table last night, the candles glowing softly, voices laughing and chatting and cutlery clinking, glasses raised in toasts to ‘the chef’, absent friends, each other, life, I was reminded of those dinner parties long ago. Of those times that connect me to the past and to family. Of those times that embedded in me the desire, need, to gather people together and share.

After dinner we passed a small stone around the table and as each person spoke they shared something about their day they loved. It was inspiring to listen to the simple gratitudes each person expressed. To sit immersed in the joy each person shared about their life that day and every day.

One of the things I shared was meeting a fear this morning and moving through it.

I have never shot a pistol. Guns terrify me actually. But one of the guests skeet shoots with our host once a week. He arrived in the morning and they set up targets and invited me to have a go.

I decided to do it.

In the end, I discovered it wasn’t that scary and it wasn’t about shooting. It was about trying something that scared me. About challenging myself to set my sights on a target and aiming for it. Again and again.

I missed the target, every time. But with practice I’m sure I could be better at actually hitting the cardboard and not the tree behind it. (Sorry tree) Even the chipmunk knew he was safe. He sat to the left of the target and never budged while I shot the pistol. Cheeky devil! But he was right. There was no hope of my hitting him, even by accident. I was way off target!

Like life. We set our sights on a target. We aim for where we want to go and then we keep moving forward. Keep trying. Keep aligning our sights to reflect our direction.

I aimed a pistol at a target and missed yesterday. By a mile.

In life, the goal is to keep aiming. Keep aligning. Keep re-directing my attention to where I want to go, what I want to do, what I want to achieve. And no matter what, to not be distracted by squirrels chattering in my head, or trees blocking the light.

And to keep doing it. Keep going in the direction of my dreams.

I may never pick up a pistol again — in fact I probably won’t. It’s not that I’m afraid of it. It’s just I don’t want to shoot anything — including the branches off trees!

But, I will never quit aiming at my goals. Never quit shooting for the stars to achieve my dreams. As the saying goes, shoot for the moon, even if you miss, you’ll still end up amongst the stars.

It was a day of aiming for the stars yesterday. A day of reflecting in the light of the beauty of the world all around and knowing, to make a difference in the world, I must never let go of my dreams. Never let go of aiming for the stars to.

It’s a big world out there. The universe is calling. Gotta go.

Namaste.

 

I am laughing at my impatience this morning. Laughing in frustration that is. Twenty minutes to finally be able to load my blog and the page to enter a new post seems excessive. But then, if I hadn’t pushed buttons while I waited, perhaps it might have been a bit faster.

The internet connection here is on a ‘stick’, or is that ‘schtick’, ’cause it sure feels like a comedy of errors trying to get anything to load.

And I laugh again as the childhood adage my father used to quote pops into my mind — “Patience is a virtue. And you have none.”

I do so, I used to quip back vehemently stamping my right foot to strengthen my position. I do so!

Not!

Really.

I mean, I can be patient. With people. Dogs. Cats. Fish even.

But technology? Not quite so patient and forgiving. Seriously. It is here to serve, not hinder, my morning routine.

And the morning began so well.

The sky which yesterday was covered by rolling grey clouds is clear and blue today. The sun shines lighting up the leaves that are turning ever more quickly with each passing day. Brilliant reds and auburn, rusts and golds spread out along the hillsides, tiny patches becoming great swathes of autumn’s glory.

I walked down to the water’s edge this morning, my iPhone at the ready. I forgot my camera in Calgary – yes, seriously, I forgot my camera — and must use my phone to snap and capture the world around me.

And I laugh again. Thank goodness for technology! Photos from my iPhone are usually what I share here!  Except… of course… the internet connection is so slow, I can’t load photos. 🙂

But, I’m off to town later. Our hosts have organized a dinner party for us. They’ve invited several neighbours over to meet and greet. Over food and wine and laughter and good conversation we’ll spend an evening communing.We’ve invited a guest too. Ever gracious, our hosts suggested we include my new friend Brenda Missen in the evening. What a blessing. What a gift. New friends and old. Mixing together. Making connections. Sharing. Creating ripples of joy and friendship.

And now, I’m off to help my hostess prepare for the evening’s festivities. My snit with the internet over, I am once again filled with the joy of being present in this world of beauty. Outside the window, sun filters through the trees, splashing green and yellow and red leaves with light. Patches of sun dapple the road leading up the hill away from the cottage, speckles of light inviting me to explore, take note, be present in the day.

Technology’s okay, as long as it doesn’t affect my mood, my state of being, my presence of mind. Technology is simply that — a man made tool designed to facilitate being present and connected in this 21st century. it does not rule me.

So there!

Not patient? ha!  Fooled it. I am so patient. I just don’t have time to sit around waiting for technology to catch up with me!

See you later. I do have to connect into a worksite later to take care of a few business aspects of my world. I’m going to post some photos — taken with my iPhone.

And, I’ll comment on comments others have made in previous blogs as well — another issue with a slow connection is getting into my Comments page. Mostly, it won’t load and trying to comment individually really does tax my patience!

May your day be filled with wonder and delight. May you be immersed in the beauty all around. It really does make a difference – to be immersed in beauty.