I first met Howard Parsons, today’s guest blogger, just a few short months ago when I went to my first Summer of Peace Calgary 2o12 meeting. I immediately knew I had a friend for life and, I understood why Kerry loves him so much. He is straight forward, intent on being his best, a natural teacher and caring and giving. Howie, writes Hopeful Notes from Howie J., every morning — short, to the point actionable ideas on how to live your best life yet. Howie continually strives to create better in the world.

Today, Howie shares his warm, wonderful brilliance with all of us here. Do drop over to Howie’s blog and sign-up to receive his daily notes. They’re powerful and inspiring!

I Have A Dream

by Howard Parsons

I have a dream to bring so much hope and inspiration to the world that the world will be a better place when I leave it.

Do you have a dream? I don’t mean the kind you have at night although they can be informative; I mean a dream for your life that is so big you need help from all sorts of resources to make it happen.

I think every child has a dream for their life. When they play, they make up stuff and play in it with so much attention that it is real to them. Then someone comes along and says “stop that daydreaming, it will get you nowhere.” The child learns to adapt to their surroundings, to follow the rules and play the game of life the way it has been taught by elders.

You can change the world. One person, that’s you, can make a difference wherever you are. You just choose it.

I know one of the challenges you might have is that you will have forgotten your dreams. You will have forgotten how to dream. The day to day shuffle of life with all its responsibilities and energy drains leaves little time to consider having a dram.

Now is the time to pick it up again. It doesn’t matter how old or young you are. You just sit down in a quiet space and ask about your dream. You remember being a fireman or an artist or a singer. These were dreams that were put aside for more practical matters.

Now you have your quiet space to bring your dream alive. It may be a whole new dream. Perhaps it is to participate in world peace or to feed the hungry or shelter those who have none.

Your dream is special. It is unique and precious and you need the time to bring it alive now. Take the time from your busy life and give it a try. Sit down quietly and ask. It may take some practice but I guarantee you the dream will come. It will be crazy and you might think, “How could I do that?” Don’t let the size, texture or complexity get in your way. Dreams are such that they don’t follow the old rules you and I have been living by for so long.

Dreams are precious and you need to nurture your dream. Let it mature as you move into it and start to see how you can make a difference in this world we call home.

As you think like a kid again, your dream becomes real and big and juicy!  It is alive in you and you start to take it out into the world and make it live for those that see for themselves their dream coming out of your dream. Now you have the multiplier effect and what a wow that is!

You are a special person with a dream inside you. I ask you to go in and get it now because the world needs more dreamers. The world needs your dream. Let it come, courageously take it into the world and see what it possible. There are no rules in the dream game. There is only the possibility of a world that will be better off because you have brought your dream to it. That, my friend, will make a difference in your world and the world of many you have not met yet.

I am Howard Parsons, The Moving On Coach working with men and women struggling with meaning and purpose. I am the author of Hopeful Notes from Howiej which is the reality of my dream to bring hope and inspiration to the world.

http://www.hopefulnotesfromhowiej.com

In Greek mythology, a hero was a being of godlike prowess and beneficence who often came to be honored as a divinity. I encountered a lot of these beings last week, especially yesterday.

We needed 14 tickets for the Grandstand at the Stampede last night. The problem was, as I discovered while standing in line talking with the man in front of me, each person was only allowed to purchase 8. I stood in line for an hour, chatting with the couple in front of me — the people behind had someone in another line and it obviously moved faster than ours because they left. When I mentioned I was stymied about the 8 limit, the couple in front offered to buy the extra ones for me. Bonus!  I stood in line for an hour chatting with a delightful couple and, I got all the tickets I needed.

Sean and Elise, you are heroes!

The show was spectacular. And I mean, SPECTACULAR! After years of my eldest being in the show as a Young Canadian, I can be somewhat critical of the extravaganza that is the Grandstand Show. I also wrote and produced the documentary of The Young Canadians for Global National TV six years ago — I’ve seen the inner workings and gyrations of it all. From acrobats spinning in hoops above the heads of the audience, to Paul Brandt singing his heart out from a disc that hung suspended above the audience as he floated out over the heads of the audience gathered on the tarmac, to world champion hoop dancer Dallas Arcand who road in on a giant, metal sculpture of an eagle that came floating in from the sky, the show was Spectacular. And The Young Canadians shone!

Paul Brandt, Dallas Arcand, The Young Canadians of the Calgary Stampede, and all the other performers, you are all heroes.

Bill Avery has executive produced the Grandstand Show for over fifteen years. He inherited the role from his father who was one of the founders of The Young Canadians. Bill’s enthusiasm for his work, his care of the kids who range in age from 8 to 21, his vision and his creative senses are stellar.

Bill Avery,  and all the production team of the Grandstand Show along with all the volunteers like Kate Thrasher, Stu Reid, Jock Osler — you are heroes!

I was a Young Canadian parent for several years. It takes a lot — driving to and from dance and singing classes, rehearsals, sellling programs during the show, doing this, doing that, to ensure your child turns up when needed, has the right stuff to do what it takes to go through the nine months of being a student in the Young Canadians school of performing arts and then, the gruelling five months leading up to the Grandstand Show. It takes and lot and the parents of these youth give a lot.

All the parents and volunteers and helper outters and sitter-byers and supporters and lifter-uppers of the Young Canadian School of Performing Arts, you are heroes.

When Liseanne, my youngest daughter, went out to collect her boyfriend Ryan and a girlfriend, Ashley who were joining us for the evening but couldn’t arrive until later, a couple approached Ryan and Ashley and gave them their tickets to get onto the grounds. “We don’t need them,” they said and handed them the entrance tickets. When I stood outside the grandstand waiting for some friends to arrive so that I could give them their tickets, a woman approached me and asked if I wanted to buy her extra ticket. I didn’t really need it — though we could only purchase standing room only tickets as everything else was sold out. I pondered the opportunity for a moment as she told me the story of her friend who had cancelled at the last minute and now she had one empty seat beside her. What the heck, I decided. It was a good seat and if any of us got tired of standing, we could share it. I paid her (she didn’t want the full amount, just half) and kept waiting. As I waited, another woman approached me and asked if I had a ticket for sale. We’re four people and only have three, she said. I pondered some more and said, “What the heck!”. I obviously bought it so that she and her friends could all have tickets. I sold her the ticket for what I’d paid.

People who give away their tickets, who sell tickets for less than the printed cost, who act ethically and with integrity in ensuring they pass along their largess are heroes!

It was a fun, awe-inspiring, breathtaking spectacle last night. All the horses made it around the track during the Chuckwagon races. Cowboys oozed their manly stuff, cowchicks flit around the grounds and smiles lit the faces of young and old.

And then, the TransAlta fireworks display lit up the night as Paul Brandt sang and The Young Canadians danced and I stood, one of  22,000 people there to witness the spectacular, my heart pounding with pride. I am Canadian. I am a Calgarian. Yahoo!

It was a night like no other at the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth!

I am late posting this morning. C.C. and I went off to a barbeque/dance/stampede whoop-up that actually wasn’t…. It was last Thursday.  So, we drove the 45 minutes back into the city, went for a lovely dinner on the Mall and came home to both my daughters and some friends sitting on the deck enjoying the night. I did get to bed at a not too undecent hour but I slept in, awoke, and just made it in time for my 7:30am coffee date with a very dear friend.

Back home, take my daughter to drop off her car for servicing, come back, coffee and breakfast for those still at the house, a delightful hour on the deck chatting and spending quality family time, and now, I’m finally here.

But not for long.

C.C. and I are off to pick up Rush tickets for the Grandstand Show tonight at the Stampede. A busy day of this and that and we are on the run.

Which brings me to the importance of spending time with those you love.

Last night, at dinner, we laughed and shared and talked heart to heart. When we came home, we laughed and shared and chattered about life and living and time passing. We shared memories of ‘remember when’, ‘remember who’, ‘remember how’ and connected to what makes our lives so rich.

This morning, more of the same.

It really makes a difference.

To take the time to stop, breathe, connect.

enjoy and treasure.

Stop. Breathe. Connect.

Enjoy and treasure these moments, the people who mean so much and give such meaning to our lives.

It really makes a difference.

May your day be filled with those moments where you are connected in love with those who bring such meaning and richness to your life.

Namaste.

Over at Hopeful Notes from Howie J., life-coach, mentor, all around amazing guy, Howard Parsons shares a tip today on Fear and Patience. How to stop acting out of fear and letting your heart guide the way.

It’s tough, this stopping acting out of fear. It’s tough because our egos don’t like standing still, especially when we don’t know what we’re standing in. Ego doesn’t want to explore the answer to…. How deep is this shite anyway?  It just wants to get the muck off our boots. It just wants to high-tail it outta there into someplace else. And really, it doesn’t care where that other place is, as long as it’ s not the shite you were standing in.

And that’s the rub. Leaping out of one shite pile without knowing where or how or what or why you’re going often lands you in…. yup. You guessed it. Another pile of horse manure, cow dung, elk pellets… You get the picture. Offal by any other name is still awful.

As the saying goes, where ever you go, there you are.

Or, as I like to say, where ever I go, I gotta take me with me. May as well take the best parts, kick the dung off my boots and dance in the rain to clean ’em up pardner! (’cause it’s Stampede time in cow city I’m addin’ in a little western lingo folks! 🙂

So… how does this relate to making a difference? Easy. If you’re standing in horse manure and reacting out of fear, your difference will be kinda stinky.

If you stop, breathe, assess the situation, call for help, even take a moment to search for  diamonds or nuggets of wisdom in the pile, you might find the horse manure isn’t really what you were afraid of. You might find that what you were really fearful of was…..  feeling the feelings of being stuck there, smelling the mess you’re in, discovering the reason you’re in the pile of manure in the first place was because you were doing, once again, what you’ve always done to get yourself into such a mess.

Ego is clever. It likes to trip us up. It likes to convince us it has our ‘best interests’ at heart. But seriously? At the heart of ego is the fear we’ll discover it doesn’t care about our hearts or what’s best for us’, it really only cares about protecting its position as boss, chief, mon capitano, el maestro.

Ego does not like being dumped or ignored. And it particularly does not like being in a pile of horse manure. Because… well…. how the hell did you get there? It wants you to believe if you’d listened to it in the first place you wouldn’t be there, but the truth is, for most of us, listening to ego is what got us there in the first place.

See the vicious circle?

If you don’t… Stop. Breathe. Relax. Breathe again. In. Out. In. Out. Deep, satisfying breaths that rise up from your belly.

Now, ask yourself: “What does my heart want?”

Listen to your heart.

Your heart always knows the way.

And while you’re waiting to hear its beat, start dancing. Whether in cow dung or horse manure, dance.

That’s the other thing ego doesn’t like. Joy.

In fact, it’s particularly sensitive to joy because if you’re dancing for joy, you’re not standing in fear. And fear is really the only emotion ego knows it can control you through.

Anyway, standing in horse manure isn’t all that bad if you’re wearing the right boots. And if you’ve got a shovel, you can easily clear a path out of there, righting what’s upside down, taking out what’s inside out. Working your way out of horse manure rather than leaping from one pile of shite to the next, makes a big difference.

I know.

I’ve stood in many a pile, leaping this way and that, trying to find a path to greener pastures. Until I let my ego stop directing me, until I stopped reacting and calmed my fearful breathing down to deep, steady inhales/exhales, I couldn’t see — the pile of manure ended when I got real clear on my role in getting me into that pile in the first place. Until I stopped running away from my fear of being 100% accountable for my life and moved through courage into being 100% accountable for my life, ego had its way with me.

Now, it’s my heart’s way and I am dancing in the rain, running through wildflowers and laughing when the earth gets kinda mucky. Because in moving through my heart’s calling for me to be all of who I am, in love, joy, harmony and bliss, fear can’t get the better of me!

And when fear isn’t getting the better of anyone, the world gets our best and in our best is the difference we make everyday in every way.

I have been blessed in my life with many opportunities to touch other people’s lives, and to be touched by others.

Years ago, when my daughters were ‘tweens’, I did a lot of research on teen prostitution. The why’s of how I got involved are quite simple. I was in a time and place where I had an opportunity to learn something about a state of being I knew nothing about. And, I wanted to make a difference — in fact, I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t want to make a difference in the world.

At the time, I wrote a play with a group of teens who used an outreach program for street youth. Every Wednesday night I would go down to the storefront where the outreach program operated and meet with whomever turned up to talk about what they wanted to say. I’d then go away, write something, come back, talk about it and continue the process until three months later, we had a script. Another three months and the kids were ready to perform the play at a benefit concert I produced on behalf of the agency that ran the outreach program.

It was gruelling, exhausting, exhilarating and fulfilling work.

At the time, the kids and I shared a dream for what we would do with the play. We’d raise funds for a school tour. We’d take it across the country. The possibilities were limitless.

And then, I fell into the arms of an abuser and I let my dreams go. I forgot about my capacity to make a difference as I fell into the belief I didn’t make a difference, to anyone, to the world, to myself.

Fast forward 4 years 9 months later, to May 21 2003 when I am released from that living hell by a miracle that drove up in a blue and white police car and I am suddenly presented with the possibility that — I do/can make a difference.

I get busy.

Remembering.

Who I am.

Who I was.

What I was capable of, doing, being, achieving. I get busy remembering the limitless possibilities of my life in freedom.

And part of that remembering was to remind myself of what I had accomplished in the past that had made a difference in my life. In those moments when I felt like I simply could not carry the burden of my pain, shame, sorrow, or whatever else I was working through, I reminded myself of what I had done in the past to make a difference in the world.

And I began again. To take one step at a time, to remember — I make a difference simply by being present in the world, exactly the way I am, because I am my difference.

Just as you are yours.

Sometimes, it’s easy to fall into the trap of believing, ‘I don’t really make a difference’. ‘There’s not much point in my difference.’

You do make a difference. There is a point in your difference in the world because your difference is unique to you. Without you, the world would be less one beautiful, unique and important difference — YOU and your light.

We never know when our difference will resonate with someone else.  Shortly after being released from the darkness of that relationship, I was at a business meeting when a young man came racing across the room, hugged me and said, “Louise! It’s me. Dan! You saved my life!”

He had been one of the youth in the play. Since being part of the play, he had gone on to get straight, reconnected with his family and was now working, had a home of his own, a family, a dog and was thriving in life.

I demurred and reminded him that he was the one who saved his life. I just happened to be there. “No,” he insisted. “You gave me a stage to find my voice, to speak up.”

And in that moment, I was reminded, “We are all connected. We all make a difference.”

Dan’s difference resonated with me that day. It reminded me of the power we each have to be a light in this world, to hold the light in the darkness when others are lost. Many people held the light for me while I was lost — and I am grateful to be able to pay it forward, to continue shining brightly so that others too can find their way through the darkness.

Small Gesture 1

I am sitting at my desk in the late afternoon sunlight, working on a report I need to have ready for a client next week. Outside the window in front of my desk, I see a woman sitting in the shade of a tree across the street. Beside her, two dogs lay on the grass, panting.

I wonder if I can do anything, offer water perhap,s and go to my front step and call out to her. “Would you like some water for your dogs?”

She quickly accepts and leads both dogs across the street to the shade of my front yard. Ellie, who is standing inside the screen door watching all of this unfold is somewhat curious. “Why is my mother taking my water-dish outside and sharing it with strangers. Hello? Why can’t I come out too?”

The reason she’s inside is simple. Ellie has attitude around other dogs sometimes. She’s incredibly possessive of me and is not good at sharing. I know. I know. I’ve tried to train the trait out of her but it prevails. Plus, the woman thanks me for leaving Ellie inside. “This guy,” and she rubs the deep coat of her German Shepherd, “he doesn’t like other dogs very much. Especially large ones.”

I laugh. Ellie doesn’t like small dogs. She’s actually not all that bad with big ones but, why test her?

The woman and I chat for a while. I give her dogs a couple of treats and she continues on her way. She only has four or five blocks to go but her senior dog in particular was feeling the heat and needed the break.

She is grateful and my heart is joyful for our encounter.

Small Gesture 2

Yesterday morning, my cousins’s daughter, Elise, who is here visiting from France, came into the kitchen and offered me a white paper bag. “It’s from Zac’s mom,” she tells me. Zac is the 16-year-old son of my friend RS who, along with a friend, took Elise to the Stampede grounds for the day. What generosity of spirit. What graciousness. Elise had a blast. And truthfully, after a week with her cousins who are all older, she really enjoyed the opportunity to spend time with people her own age.

I open the white paper bag and inside is a beautiful heart rock. A gift from RS who on a trip to the States recently, saw the heart rock and thought of me.

In her gesture, my heart is touched, my spirit soars and I feel my wings expand.

Small Gesture 3

Recently, at a meeting with three very caring and enlightened people, one of the individuals talked about her feelings of hopelessness. How, in the instance of helping young men heal from a tragic accident, she felt like she could not do enough. Did not do enough. They were so despairing I don’t know if they even heard me, she said.

And I shared with her the story of the police officer who, while I was in the depths of that relationship that was sucking my life dry said to me something I never forgot, even though, at the time, I ignored him and went back to my abuser. “This isn’t love,” he said. “Love doesn’t hurt like this.”

At the time, I disregarded his words because I was too deep into the despair and sickness of that relationship. But when the abuser was arrested and I was set free, that police officer’s words sustained me. They carried me through those dark moments when I wanted to scream at the stars and moon and sky and ask “Why? Why? Why? If he loved me why would he do this?”

Because it wasn’t love.

I told my friend last week what I often share with police officers and victim assistance workers when they ask, ‘What can I do? Why can’t they hear me?”

“They do hear you. It’s just, at this moment in time, your words are blocked by the fear and anguish and tears and pain of where they’re at. We never know when or how what we say or do will affect another. We can’t. All we can do is continue to do our best. To share what we can, whenever we can, and know, it is enough. The rest is up to them, in their own time.”

My friend was touched and moved. My words resonated and in that moment, I felt our hearts sing together in hope, faith, love and joy.

We do not know when or how what we do will affect another.

All we can do is keep doing the best we can to create a world of beauty all around.

All we can do is listen, watch and respond in loving ways to the world around us so that our hearts can sing together as the world around us vibrates in love. Because no matter the size of our gesture, our impact is great when we share from loving hearts.

It is Guest blog Sunday.  Today, we’re going to try a little bit of a different format.

I met today’s guest blogger, Julie Goyder, in a comment she made over at Diana Schwenk’s blog — Talk to Diana. The story she told about what she learned from a man with Alzheimer’s whom she ‘agreed’ to marry touched my heart. In its telling, I got a glimpse of the heart of Julie — deep, caring, compassionate.

When I connected with Julie to ask if she would be willing to share the story here, she quickly agreed and today, Julie is the guest blogger.

What’s different about the format is that I am only sharing the opening of her blog about ‘Joe’ and then, it’s up to you to click the link and head over to Julie’s place for the rest of the story.

It will be worth your effort. Julie is a good story-teller. Her story about Joe, a patient with Alzheimer’s for whom she cared in a longterm facility, is touching and inspiring. and, if you stay and visit awhile, her sharing of her journey through Parkinson’s Disease with her husband Anthony will touch your heart.

Please, do click the links below to read the whole story.

And… once you’re at Julie’s place, do check out h the rest of her blog.  I’ve never met a woman who owns peacocks and hens and ganders and who has a son who creates music sitting in the middle of a paddock!

And thank you Julie for sharing your story and your heart. You have touched mine and made a difference.

May we all have a Julie in our life!

THE JOE STORY

(excerpt published with permission from JM Goyder)

I first met Joe several years ago, when I began to work in a small nursing home in Western Australia. I’d been nursing for about ten years and had looked after a large number of people with Alzheimer’s Disease before meeting Joe, so I didn’t take much notice of him at first. He was just another Alzheimer’s patient sitting in an easychair, mostly silent but sometimes yelling out in sudden anger. I changed his trousers when he was incontinent, I showered him when he was on my list and I fed him his dinner. In the daily reports I would write “Joe, no change”.

Things did change however.

One afternoon I was in the panroom which was directly opposite the entrance to the dayroom. Joe was always seated in the chair facing this entrance. As usual, he was slumped down in his chair so I went over and hoisted him up into a more comfortable position. He suddenly lashed out and punched me in the side shouting, “Leave me alone, you bastard!” – which, when he did speak, was a fairly typical coment from him.

Please click the links to read the rest of the story. There are four segments — all quite short — and all worth reading….  The Joe Story – Part 1,     Part 2,    Part 3,      Part 4, Part 5.

In a city of 1.1 million people, there are many, many heroes. Yesterday, heroes rode up like cowboys in a wild west movie ridin’ in to save the day.

It takes 5,000+ volunteers to stage the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth and yesterday their hard work, dedication and commitment paid off. The parade was spectacular and later, going to the exhibition grounds and taking in all the free activities was a blast. From Cattle Penning to miniature horse chuck wagon racing to Superdogs, to Recycled Percussion (WOW! — if you’re here in Calgary, don’t miss their free show on the Bell Stage — WOW!)  to Hoop Dancing — the day had it all. And, once the nominal fee of $16.00 was paid to get through the gates, it was all free!

The Calgary Exhibition & Stampede — you’re all heroes!

When we got to the spot we wanted to sit to watch the parade, it was already pretty busy. We were fortunate, we found a spot right at the front for our two chairs, settled in and got ready for the spectacle to begin. We only had two hours to wait — beside us were two men who, eager to get ‘the best seats in the house’ set up chairs for their families and friends at 5am!  They packed all the chairs and paraphenalia for about 15 people down and waited it out (Starbucks around the corner doesn’t even open until 6:30). What’s amazing is that all along the parade route, there were hundreds, if not thousands of others who did the same thing. Got there early, set up the chairs and held the space for their family and friends to arrive.

Those who organize community spaces along the parade route, get there early and sit out the pre-dawn chill are heroes!

After watching the Hoop Dancer at the opening ceremonies for the Indian Village which, along with the Stampede turns 100 this year, my cousin’s daughter, Elise, my daughter Liseanne and I wandered through the teepees, watched a bannock cookout in process, listened to stories of our First Nations and, Elise and Liseanne had their photo taken with a Royal Canadian Mounted Police (mountie) all dressed up in his red serge uniform. They were not the only ones. People kept coming up to him and asking to have their photo taken and he graciously complied. His patience, good humour and grace were inspiring.

The mountie in red at the Indian Village is a hero!

The grounds are kept swept and cleared of debris throughout the day through youth from the Boys and Girls Club of Calgary. Where ever you go on the exhibition grounds you see them in their green shirts, bags and garbage picker upper sticks at the ready. A million people will go through the grounds throughout the hottest ten days of summer — and you will barely notice their passing because of the hard work of these youth.

The Boys and Girls Club of Calgary and the youth who keep the grounds clean are all heroes!

Calgarians are amazing. Friendly. Open. Willing to share information, give directions, offer assistance when needed. I saw it throughout the day yesterday. It didn’t matter where we were, walking to the parade route to set up, meeting my daughter for lunch at a local restaurant on the way to the exhibition grounds, standing in line to purchase our entry tickets to the grounds, walking around the grounds, enjoying just a small sampling of all the free entertainment on the grounds — there was someone smiling, offering up information, pointing out something to someone, taking photos for guests, just generally being of service. Wow!

Calgarians are heroes!  Yahoo!

Who are your heroes today? Be on the lookout where ever you go and I’m sure you won’t be disappointed. Heroes are everywhere!

It’s Yahoo! time in Calgary once again. A time when blue suited executives and office clerks take off their business wear and don blue jeans and cowboy boots to kick-up their heels. It’s a time when every hostelry, every drinking post is chocker-block full of smilin’ cowboys and cowgirls edgin’ up to the bar to grab them some cool libation and partake of down home, country-style fun!

It’s the kick-off to the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth, the Calgary Stampede Parade and I am off to the parade.

My cousin’s fifteen-year-old daughter is here from France and I am taking her down to the parade this morning. And… I slept in.

Most unusual for me. I know. I know. 6am is not really sleeping in, but when you have to be out of the house by 7 and have meditation, writing, and getting ready to jam into an hour and are accustomed to getting up at 5, it’s late!

The way I figure it pardner’, this parade will be different than the Pride Parade C.C. and I watched in San Francisco.

This parade will be filled with horses and cowboys and Indians (and yes, I’m being politically incorrect but when it comes to parades and First Nations in full regalia and horses prancing and all that jazz, political correctness takes a back seat to the spectacle of the parade!)

This parade is a two hour extravaganza of floats and western heritage and civic pride rolled out along two downtown avenues. It wends its way west then turns up three blocks to find its way back in the East Village two hours later.

My cousin is excited.

My daughter, Liseanne will be joining us, but first, I have to stake out our turf, set up camp and wait it out for the parade, and my daughter to get there. She has a course from 7:30 to 9 — seriously — a course on parade morning!

So, really, today’s blog has little to do with ‘making a difference’. I’m out of time!

And perhaps, that is the message.

Sometimes, we have to give ourselves a break.

Sometimes, we have to let ourselves deal with what is in a way that says — it’s okay not to…. and then let go of whatever the shoulda’s, coulda’s, woulda’s are that would have us feel we’re not doing our best.

This  morning, there’s a parade to watch.

This morning, I am letting myself off the hook of writin’ this here column. (and yes, I know I did write it– but ya’ know what I mean!) I’m givin’ myself a break from ‘makin’ a difference’ and gettin’ into the difference of what makes this city so different.

Yessireee. I’m ready for the Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth — The Calgary Stampeeeede!!!!!!

See ya there!

Yahoo!