a quest for plenty: my list of 100 dreams

Well, that was more difficult than I expected. When it came right down to it, coming up with 100 things that made my eyes light up or my heart beat faster took a little thinking. I got to 50 pretty quickly, then another 10 here or there, and finally took to reading other people's lists to find my final 10. And then, because some of those lists are awesome, I ended up with 102.

One of the things that strikes me is how limited the 'Nurture Romance' section is for me. I don't know if that's because I am resigned in that area or because so much of what I do dare to dream about romance I'm too chicken to commit to paper/blog. Little of column a, little of column b and lots of room to grow, I guess.

So, here it is - my list of 102 dreams. And now for the fun part - making them happen!

FREE TO BE ME 

• Be debt free
• Create a generated-from-anywhere income of more than $80,000 net/year (in 2015 CDN dollars)
• Write a novel 
• Complete the ‘Ultimate Canadian Book Tour’ promoting my novel at independent book sellers in all 10 provincial and 3 territorial capitals
• Win a short story or essay contest
• Write a book with Nathan - Hungry Ghost Mom or other
• Be paid to sing
• Sing a song while accompanying myself on the piano at an open mic night
• Take a week-long solo writing retreat during storm season in Tofino
• Attend a writing course at The Banff Centre
• Create a cozy, inviting, dedicated writing space in my home 
• Take a year of shmita
• Have my picture taken with Alan Thomas Doyle
• Have my picture taken with Michael Bublé

KNOW & BE KNOWN 

• Learn to scuba dive
• Master a second UN working language (French or Spanish) 
• Earn a PhD
• Spend a day in the British Museum
• Visit the Smithsonian Institutes
• Take a photography course
• Earn my own media pass to Jamaica Jazz Festival
• Take a painting class 
• Take a trip with Josh and really listen to who he is
• Learn to social dance 
• swing 
• waltz 
• two-step
• others? 
• Attend the World Domination Summit
• Present at an official TED event
• Be an invited (paid) speaker at a writing conference
• Teach at a college (again)
• Be a writer-in-residence
• Get 20,000 Twitter followers
• Have 5,000+ blog visits/month

NURTURE ROMANCE 

• Be kissed atop the Eiffel Tower
• Get married on a beach
• Trace my lover's laugh lines as he ages
• Make love under the Northern Lights

HAVE GRAND ADVENTURES

• Ski Whistler
• Ski in the alps
• Ski a black diamond run (on purpose ;-)) 
• Swim with a whale shark in the wild
• Land a jump on a mountain bike
• Drive a convertible from Los Angeles to Las Vegas
• Ride the Rocky Mountaineer
• Stand up on a surfboard for at least 15 seconds
• Play craps in Vegas
• Sleep in a working lighthouse
• Take a glamping safari in the Rift Valley
• Watch silver back gorillas in Rwanda
• Crew a sailboat
• Go salmon fishing on the ocean with my Dad
• Live in a float home (or on a boat) for a year
• Drive the entire Pacific Coast Highway 
• Ride a roller coaster that goes upside down

MAKE A DIFFERENCE 

• Be Secret Santa to a children's shelter
• Work with Habitat for Humanity somewhere in the tropic zone 
• Work for the UN
• Volunteer with a literacy organization
• Teach creative writing to people in recovery from addiction/mental illness
• Serve on the board of UNBC
• Sponsor a bursary for single moms studying the arts at UNBC
• Give a stranger $100 
• Pay for the groceries of the person ahead of me in line

SHE'S SO FANCY

• Own a pair of Louboutins
• Fly first class 
• Stay at the Clayoquot Wilderness Resort
• Stay at a 5 Star hotel
• Live in a downtown loft condo in a major city
• Buy a scarf at the flagship Hermès store in Paris
• Have more original art than prints
• Ride a gondola in Venice
• Attend the Academy Awards - inside the building! 

SEE THE WORLD

• Complete a 7-day kayak holiday in the Salish Sea
• Take my mom on a trip of her choosing
• Take Nathan on a history tour through Germany, France, Ireland, & Scotland 
• Travel on a round-the-world airline ticket
• Visit the Galapagos
• Attend Bachannal in Kingston
• Hand feed a sloth in Costa Rica
• Have a ‘just us’ holiday with Shan - no kids, no guys, lots of wine and laughter and tears
• Visit all of the ferry-accessible Gulf Islands
• Saturna
• North Pender
• South Pender
• Mayne 
• Salt Spring
• Galiano
• Penelakut
• Thetis
• Gabriola
• Bowen
• Hornby
• Denman
• Texada
• Quadra
• Cortez
• See the autumn colours of the eastern seaboard
• Live one year in London
• Tour the White House
• Live one year in New York City
• Live one year in Kenya or Tanzania
• Visit Zanzibar 
• Take the ultimate Gospel road-trip through the Southern U.S. - (Where would that take me? Atlanta, Nashville, New Orleans?)
• Live beside the Caribbean for AT LEAST a year
• Visit Yellowstone Park 
• Visit Stonehenge
• Attend Carnaval in Québec City
• Soak in a natural hot spring in Iceland
• Swim [or perhaps just dip a toe] in all of the oceans & seas 
  (It turns out the International Hydrographic Institute recognises 66 seas, oceans, straits, channels and bays and the list hasn’t been updated since 1953, so I’m going with my own abridged version): 
• Pacific (north and south of the equator)
• Atlantic (north and south of the equator)
• Arctic
• Indian
• Mediterranean 
• Caribbean
• China
• Bering
• Baltic
• Japan 
• Arabian
• North
• Red
• Dead
• Visit the ‘New 7 Wonders of the World’
• Great Wall of China (China)
• Petra (Jordan)
• Christ the Redeemer (Brazil)
• Machu Picchu (Peru)
• Chichen Itza (Mexico)
• Colosseum (Italy)
• Taj Mahal(India)
• Great Pyramid of Giza (Egypt - only remaining original Wonder)
• Visit every Caribbean Island nation/territory
• Antigua and Barbuda
• Barbados
• Cuba
• Dominica
• Dominican Republic
• Grenada
• Haiti
• Jamaica
• Saint Kitts and Nevis
• Saint Lucia
• Saint Vincent and the Grenadines
• Trinidad and Tobago
• France*
• Guadalope
• *Martinique
• Saint Barthélemy
• Saint Martin
• Netherlands 
• Aruba
• Curaçao
• Sint Maarten
• Britain
• Anguilla
• British Virgin Islands
• Cayman Islands
• Montserrat
• Turks and Caicos Islands
• U.S.
• Puerto Rico

HOTTER BY THE DECADE 

I turn a-shocking-number old on January 30, 2018 and am determined to make that decade sizzle!

• Reach a BMI <25
• Maintain a BMI <25 for a year
• Maintain a BMI <25 for 5 years
• Master all 26 postures in Bikram Yoga
• Standing Deep Breathing (Pranayama)
• Half Moon Pose (Ardha-Chandrasana)
• Awkward Pose (Utkatasana)
• Eagle Pose (Garurasana)
• Standing Head to Knee (Dandayamana-Janushirasana)
• Standing Bow Pose (Dandayamana-Dhanurasana)
• Balancing Stick (Tuladandasana)
• Standing Separate Leg Stretching Pose (Dandayamana-Bibhaktapada-Paschimotthanasana)
• Triangle Pose (Trikanasana)
• Standing Separate Leg Head to Knee Pose (Dandayamana-Bibhaktapada-Janushirasana)
• Tree Pose (Tadasana)
• Toe Stand (Padangustasana)
• Dead Body Pose (Savasana)
• Wind-Removing Pose (Pavanamuktasana)
• Sit up (Pada-Hasthasana)
• Cobra Pose (Bhujangasana)
• Locust Pose (Salabhasana)
• Full Locust Pose (Poorna-Salabhasana)
• Bow Pose (Dhanurasana)
• Fixed Firm Pose (Supta-Vajrasana)
• Half Tortoise Pose (Ardha-Kurmasana)
• Camel Pose (Ustrasana)
• Rabbit Pose (Sasangasana)
• Head to Knee Pose and Stretching Pose (Janushirasana and Paschimotthanasana)
• Spine-Twisting Pose (Ardha-Matsyendrasana)
• Blowing in Firm Pose (Kapalbhati in Vajrasana)
• Thigh gap (standing straight up, assessed by someone else – ha)
• Michelle Obama arms
• Bubble butt
• 32” waist
• Complete a silent retreat

Since I'm already undeniably middle aged, I've marked off the few dream elements I've completed - it's not much, but ... time's a wastin.' I don't like the effect of crossing out a dream, so the completed ones are bolded. :) 

2025 check in

• some items are no longer achievable or wanted; these are in italics. 

• many of these I don't care to do anymore (e.g. anything in the US and the hot yoga), but it's a reflection of what was of interest at the time. 

The Happiness of Pursuit: Review & Reflection

I've gotten away, of late, from reviewing the books I've been reading. I have a considerable back-log of reviews waiting to be posted, but I wanted to get this one up first since I have a feeling that finishing this book is a line in the sand of what life looks like moving forward.

The book in question is Chris Guillebeau's The Happiness of Pursuit, the second of Chris' books I've read since returning home from Jamaica clear that my sleepy hometown isn't going to be enough anymore. In The Happiness of Pursuit (THoP) Chris hangs a framework of lessons from his own quest (to visit all 193 recognized nations of the world by the age of 35) and the quests of many others. Within that framework Chris inserts questions and lessons that have you pay attention to life for what your (my) own quest might be.

Amazon associate link

THoP is a relatively quick read that I purposely slowed down. I wanted each lesson to sink in. I wanted to really learn from Chris, from the woman who created a meal from every country in the world, from the man who refused mechanical transportation for 22 years, from the other creators and explorers. What about what they did called to me? What in their stories was inspiring? What might my version of that look like?  

Chris is a very readable writer - intelligent, self-deprecating, pleasantly insouciant, and very very relatable. He often answered my questions just as they were forming, and he leaves plenty of room for people to create their own lives rather than imposing his ideas of life on his readers. 

As I read I was repeatedly reminded of something that I've often felt is a weakness of mine - not having one singular passion that pulls me forward. I like variety. I am interested in many things. And the idea of hitching my chariot to one questing star feels limiting rather than inspiring. As I read THoP I paid extra attention - what in life holds my attention? Where and when do I feel myself getting excited about an undertaking? What activities make time disappear? What circumstances outrage me? The answers are a mixed bag. 

Obviously, travel is and will continue to be a theme for me. But as I pondered the various forms a quest can take, travel seemed like - pardon the pun - the vehicle, not the focus. I'm going to travel anyway, but what can that travel be about? What happens in the life I have at homebase? Where do my sons, my parents, my health fit in in a life focused on travel? 

And then, I came across this blog post on  Facebook: Don't make a bucket list; make a list of 100 dreams. I was on my iPhone, and I don't enjoy reading articles on that screen so I simply saved it and moved on. I had pondered the headline the last few days - a list of 100 dreams. I detest the concept behind bucket lists, but a list of dreams inspires me. In his books Chris calls these kinds of lists "Life Lists" and while that's an improvement, it's really the dream list idea that moves me. So imagine my surprise when I finally went back to see the article I'd saved and it links to Chris' website. Oh, serendipity, you charmer. Of course the ultimate link is not Chris' blog but this sample list.

Which is all just to say: 

• read any and all of Chris Guillebeau's books. They are accessible and inspiring and there's something in there for everyone (review of The Art of Non-Conformity coming soon). 
• I found my quest not in the book itself, though reading the book plowed the earth so that finding the list of 100 could land in fertile soil - this week I'm working on my creating my list of 100, and then I'll begin crossing things OFF my list of 100. A quest of plenty - what fun! 

I'm sailing away

Okay, now that I have yet again begun a post by giving you the most horrendous of ear worms, let me get serious(ish) for a moment.

I am not sailing away. I am, however, flying away, and, in fact, taking the (apparently wrongly attributed) advice of Mark Twain and casting off the bowlines, exploring, dreaming and discovering.

After a year of feeling stuck I am now bounding forward. In exactly one month I leave my safe harbour of Victoria BC for a new harbour of Kingston, Jamaica where I will be volunteering for six months. It's a startling adventure. There are moment when I think I may want to reconsider. And, as I promised my ladies at our book club retreat, I am Daring Greatly.

It's something I have dreamt of doing for a lifetime. And something I'll be sharing about more fully elsewhere.

This blog will continue to limp along, weighed down by navel gazing & book reviews, while my adventures with CUSO International will soon be shared on a new site.

For now, let me share this from my CUSO fundraising page:

As a teenager in northern British Columbia I saw television ads for international aid agencies and was intrigued. In my family overseas service meant missions work, and I was fascinated to learn that people could share things beyond their faith – their knowledge, skill, ability and compassion – in the world. When I was 17 years old I traveled to southern Africa; that trip began my life-long yearning to travel, my interest in global justice, and my earliest development of cultural competency. That trip also birthed a dream that has grown as the years rolled by - the dream to make a real and lasting difference in the developing world.

I studied. Raised my children. Gained experience, compassion and - I hope - wisdom. In all of that, the goal of using my skills and knowledge internationally called me forward. At this point in my life, with my sons grown and stable and a clear sense of myself and my abilities, it’s time to make that thirty year old dream come true. CUSO International is helping me do that. 

I have followed and supported CUSO for years, biding my time until my life aligned with their volunteer opportunities. The placement for a 6 month Marketing, Communication & Branding Advisor for a national organization in Kingston, Jamaica had that just right feel – not too far, not too long, a great introduction to international development. 

I can’t wait to go, to learn, to grow, to teach and to serve. 

In spite of the obstacles facing them, people in every corner of the developing world are building better futures for their communities, and thanks to CUSO I get to work with them! I will work side-by-side with these committed citizens to make positive change happen. Lasting change requires not just a financial investment, but also a human investment. That’s why Cuso International shares skills, and changes lives. 

While there are many volunteer-sending agencies, one of Cuso International’s unique attributes is its role as the North American strategic alliance partner of VSO, a worldwide partnership of Voluntary Service Overseas organizations. This is the world's largest non-governmental development network that works through volunteers. It allows them to recruit from all over the world, and to transfer the expertise, experience and ‘best practices’ of one country to another. 

Not everyone can work overseas, but everyone can support that work. Thank you for whatever you can give to support my work and to help me pay it forward to future CUSO volunteers.

mischief managed

I wish I had the energy to get up to mischief. I could stand a little more play, a little more tease and tempt. Some laughter just because. I miss the mystery of an impish grin. The secret knowing, feeling the light dance behind my eyes.

It’s not the quelling that’s the issue – it’s managing to have the mischief in the first place. The mad hatter has been MIA for too long. Maybe I should hire a mischief manager, someone to ensure that an adequate proportion of the day includes mischief and merriment. What an awesome job description that would be to write.

BB2 has always been a Mischief Manager

a little less douchey monday

It was a day like many. A good strong start thanks to STG making breakie. A packed-work schedule. A couple hours spent A) thinking bulimia's not that bad a way to go after stepping on the scale for the first time in 2 months and B) dreading spending more months working off the weight I've already lost but for some reason re-found. It was a day that started strong but was faltering. 

And then this happened: 

If you aren't on Twitter, you don't care. If you are on twitter and aren't a girl or a celebrity watcher or into funny funny YouTube series or didn't watch TV in the 90's or now, you don't care. If you are me, you are all those things. And you squealed REALLY LOUDLY IN YOUR HEAD when you saw the notification. 

Tim Daly - sensible big-brother pilot on Wings. Heartthrob doctor. Internet sensation. Less douche Dad - retweeted something I said. Granted, I said it about him, his son and their YouTube series, but still. He liked it enough to retweet it. 

It's a funny thing, and yes, I truly am just that shallow. All of a sudden, my rapid weight gain is no big thing. A (very hot) complete stranger, whose TV shows I just happen to really enjoy, clicked a button on Twitter, and suddenly ... better day. 

I still have 47 pounds to lose (39 to re-lose - sneaky bastards); I still have a mountain of work to do and some major deadlines to face. I still have a long list of things to get done in a home I just want to go home and collapse in and enjoy. 

But who cares - Tim Daly retweeted me. And that makes this whole day just 'A little less douche.' 

PS - Watch Tim and his son Sam on 'The Daly Show' on YouTube - I promise you will laugh! 

30 days of shhhh

In response to both a full weekend of off-line-ness and the continuing pondering on the '30 Day Challenge' I've just had the first idea that actually excites me - Do Nothing. Okay, it's a little deeper than that. More along the lines of 'be still' and continuing the theme of being 'quiet' that so often is what I'm forced to when I neglect it for too long and then all systems over-load. 

For my first 30 Day Challenge I'm going to take on meditating for 10 minutes each day. What I love about the concept of meditating, as I interpret it, is that it's flexible yet requires a certain devotion to the task at hand. I could sit and meditate. I could walk or bike and meditate. I could pray silently or out loud or merely reflect on a word or a thought. I could not, however, carry on a conversation, watch TV, be online, or read a book. For 10 minutes a day I will be quiet and reflective and alone with myself and my thoughts. Not in a particular pose or place, but in a particular peacefulness. When I can I will practice savasana and lay - ideally in the sunshine - on my yoga mat with my eyes closed. When that's not possible. I will sit quietly - inside or out. And I will practice shutting my mind up. 

That I'm undertaking this just as STG and I are about to move in together, and that there is much to do and to talk about and a lot of hub-bub going on in life is both perfect and possibly setting myself up for failure. I choose to think of it as perfect - what better time to take one tiny part of a day to be quiet and reflective? 

Within 30 days, I could actually develop some muscle with this. Who would have thought I could be this excited about being quiet!

fingers crossed, for 23 + reasons

So, STG are in the process of creating our first home together, and here in stream-of-consciousness order are 23 things I'm excited about - and although it's not official official yet, some of this is very much based on the house we're crossing our fingers & toes to lease:

1. No more creeper landlord and his girlfriend hanging out on their balcony watching everyone who comes in and out of the building
2. No more $8/load laundry and/or hauling laundry to SC2 or STG as needed
3. No more coming home to a hallway that reeks of bad weed and worse incense
4. No more hearing the drunks waiting for the elevator outside my door every weekend night
5. No more stepping over cigarette butts and gobs of spit in the entry way 
6. No more living in a fish bowl that looks straight out onto a main arterial *actually, the house we're most interested in is on a main arterial, but set back from the road by a lovely treed yard, and above street level
7. No more compromising on whose house to stay at - the one with no roommate, or the one with the better bed
8. ALWAYS getting to sleep in the better bed
9. Having a yard
10. Having a vegetable garden
11. Having flower beds
12. Having a front stoop to sit on in the summer
13. Having a back patio for BBQs and reading in the sun
14. Having a dish washer for the first time since 1998
15. Saving a couple hundred dollars a month on housing costs 
16. Putting those saving into a travel fund
17. Roasting marshmallows in our wood-burning fireplace
18. Sitting in the living room writing while listening to STG play with the bikes downstairs
19. Being across the road from a regional bike trail
20. Having a spacious, bright, sunny kitchen
21. Having room for friends - dirty bikers and otherwise - to drop by, BBQ, and tell stories
22. Having the life I pictured when I moved to Victoria 
23. And most of all, even if the fireplace and the sunny kitchen don't happen, getting to share it all with STG

_____________________

Scintilla Prompt (I have some Scintilla catching up to do)

• Write a list of 23

turn and face the strange*

I noticed over the past couple days, growing - really - since the big release last week of fear and my realisation that everything is as it should be and we will be okay, that there's a fluffy light cloud of melancholy following me around. Just a tinge, off to the side of my my day, that I couldn't quite nail down. I wouldn't even say melancholy, really, more like the sharper edge of nostalgia. 

Life ... is good. I have work that matters to me, a boyfriend who continually blows me away with love and laughter and adventures and fun and solidity, BB2 is making his life work with a great partner and a job he enjoys, and BB1 is getting ready to move on to his next step, again. We've been here before. And this time is different. 

Last year when we were at this point, with the BBs on their own and me learning to take care of myself and starting anew as a single empty-nester, it felt like a trauma had gotten us there. And in fact, as a family, we had been suffering the death by a thousand cuts and finally had said 'enough.' And now, after a little more trauma and some slow recovery, this is where we should be. This time it's time. 

So why the sadness? Because change is always a move away from the familiar, and the familiar had its own comfort in it. In these last few months, awkwardness aside, it's been nice to have BB1 close by. I'll miss him, like I have been missing BB2 for months.

And that's not the only change I've noticed - again, it's good change, but the constellations of my friendships are shifting. Old friends are moving forward in my life, others are fading away, and some new friends are shining bright. It's all apart of how life goes, and I've learned a lot this year about what I value in friendships, and what it means to me to be a friend. 

As my home status changes again, for the first time in my relationship with STG one of us won't have a roommate. That's exciting. And it's yet another change for me, and for us. Maybe it's a natural growth for where we're at.

Maybe that little cloud isn't melancholy. Maybe it's fatigue after what has been almost 18 months of change. I'm pretty sure there's some aphorism about the only time we aren't changing is when we're dead. And so, since change is unaviodable, I figure why not just find out how fun it can be to 'turn and face the strange'*!

* A little disclosure: I always thought the lyric in this song was 'turn and face the stage' - because obviously David Bowie wants people facing him when he's singing ... ha. 

at what cost?

I completed an interesting questionnaire this evening ... one that sparked some relatively deep and not entirely comfortable thoughts. The questionnaire began obviously enough given the topic (what would it take to live a life of passion), with exploring what my dreams are - something I've only recently again been able to even consider. 

It moved on to something that seemed, at first, only parenthetically related - "what does success look like to me?" I suppose that this answer was fairly firmly rooted in the world of dreams given that at this particular point, as good as life is, I don't really feel all that successful. 

Success, for me, isn't a balance book or a spreadsheet, or some framed parchments or even a really pretty office. The things that define my success - the things I actually truly care about and always hoped the other bits would help me get to - are not quite within reach yet. But at least I am able to identify what they are - freedom to write, the ability to contribute to others, happy successful children, a growing and mutually supportive relationship. A home that welcomes and rejuvenates guests. A body that reflects a level of self-care and balance. 

And then the came the kicker: What am I willing to give up in order to make my dreams a reality?

Wow. That's a biggie.

She'd always been a dreamer.
She just forgot, once in a while.

It had honestly never occurred to me that bringing my dreams to fruition might take something resembling sacrifice. A little hard work perhaps, but the actual giving up of something? Wow. 

The longer I looked, the more I realised that the answer was not one of mere time or money, though those might be part of the equation. 

To birth my dreams, I'd have to give up some things that I hold so closely they are almost a part of me - my fear of failing, for one. My need to know how it will all turn out. My lack of confidence. I'd have to give up being a teacher and allow someone to teach me. And most of all I'd have to give up the security of what is to get what might be.

If I could have my dreams for $10,000 and a month-long training - the 'sacrifices' of time and money - I'd likely hold them fairly cheaply. But, if in acquiring my dreams I also had to shave away the parts of myself that hold me back, how dear and worthwhile would they then be?

I hope we get the chance to find out.

a terrible thing to waste

I was just daydreaming - something we're told as children is a waste of time. Something I've probably even told my own sons now and then to snap out of. 

It was a great dream - I could almost feel the breeze that wafted through our open windows carrying freshness and the smell of ocean salt. The space was one of light and love. It was an impressionistic dream - short and soft. Full of promise, and a reminder of who I am, what matters to me, and what I'm doing here.

It left me ... happy. No, that's not accurate. It left me deeply satisfied. This moment - life as it is now - is what I have that will help me get there. And it's still there - that future life that is in process. I don't have to strive, or to fight against what is. I just have to remember that dream. And remember TO dream. 

It's a relief to know that I can still dream. I had thought that I had forgotten how to, but apparently that's not so - phew! What scared me about thinking that I'd forgotten how to dream was knowing that without a dream - without that seed of a future, I'd end up with just a default life. We are not here to survive - we're here to experience and share and grow and learn and laugh. 

I find it easy still to slip into a funk. Although life is ticking along, the reserves aren't yet quite where they need to be to fend off occasional bouts of melancholy. Today, however, I learned of one of the tools in my tool belt that I can pull out as needed. And you can bet I won't be telling anyone anytime soon that daydreaming is a waste of time. 

a, a+, b, needs improvement

I am always ready to learn
although I do not always like
being taught. 
Winston Churchill

In a week of epiphanies, here is the second one ... I don't have to be perfect right now. It's okay that there are things I'm continuing to learn and master. 

More than one person has told me that I am too hard on myself. Mostly my response is 'ya, and?' But on a happy ramble this morning I suddenly realised that yes, I am sometimes hard on myself. But, I'm learning. And if that's not okay with people, that's just something they are going to have to deal with on their time. I'm learning. And like all learners sometimes I need support. 

I also realised that while there might still be things I'm working on, there are also LOTS of things I'm already pretty awesome at, and they sometimes get lost in the focus on what's not quite there yet. So I thought I'd make a couple lists to remind myself to keep things in perspective: 

THINGS I'VE MASTERED	THINGS I'M WORKING ON
Seeing beauty in nature, art, design, etc	Seeing beauty in myself, and sometimes other people
Loving others	Loving myself
Cooking great meals	Eating healthy
Playing with words	Communicating what matters to me
Taking care of the people I love	Taking care of myself
Being creative (ideas)	Creating (actions/outcomes)
Generating income	Managing my cash flow
Making people laugh	Maintaining a sense of humour in trying times

I don't know about you, but I see a couple themes in there. And one thing I know about myself - I've always loved learning. In fact, that's one of the things that goes in the 'Things I've Mastered' list.

a plea for passion

No, this isn't that kind of post - dad & my BB's, you're welcome to read on. *wink*

STG has a driving passion. The man is manic about mountain bikes, and he has been since he was a wee lad (actually, I'm guessing my strapping love was never really a wee lad, but that's neither here nor there). He rides whenever he can. He reads about riding. He blogs about riding (NB: Some of STG's blogging is neither work nor family friendly - be forewarned). He watches movies about riding. When he gets together with the guys, they talk about riding - sometimes also beer and girls, but probably which beer and girls go best with riding. If he has extra cash, he spends it on riding - bike parts, protective wear (yay!), gas for a drive to a ride, riding holidays. 

When STG talks about riding, his eyes light up. His voice changes - he can go on and on about the history of mountain biking, the technological developments, the best rides in the area, the best rides in other areas, and a whole lot of other stuff that I sometimes forget to listen to. There is something about the self-mastery and excitement of barreling down a mountain that fulfills and challenges him. He has a knowing about his relationship to riding that totally inspires me. I love listening to him talk about a ride. He expects it to be an issue between us - that he loves his riding so much. And in a way it is, but not like he thinks.

The fact is, I'm envious - not of the time and attention STG spends on riding, but that I don't have that same feeling for anything in my life. For some time now I've known that something was missing for me, especially since I've simplified my life and my schedule in the last few months. I quit working so hard on my life so I'd have more time to enjoy it. And then things got ... sideways ... and now I'm ready again to enjoy my life. Maybe it's exhaustion, or lack of practice. But when I have a free evening to go do what I enjoy, I'm left not knowing what that is.

There are a lot of things in life I enjoy - singing, dancing, reading, writing, hiking, yoga, kayaking - but nothing that has consumed me as completely and consistently as mountain biking does for STG. I get excited about something. I invest in it for a while, and then the interest dies out. I posted on Facebook last night, having spent the entire evening correcting an error in my budget spreadsheet, that I need a hobby, or better yet a passion. I woke up this morning to a surprising amount of feedback, that included Freckles reminding me "Didn't you used to write??" and DLock provided such a long list of things I love to do that one wonders why I'm not out doing them every night.

I doubt anyone who knows me would argue that I'm a dispassionate woman. The thing is, the activities that REALLY excite me are mainly mental - writing being the top of the list. But what I want is something that gets me out and moving and interacting in nature. Kayaking seems like it'd do, but I've never allowed myself to spend the money it would take to really get out there. Or maybe that's just an excuse. Maybe I use money to keep from doing things - like kayaking - that I know would move my body, feed my soul and up my passionate-life quotient. 

Looking for an image for this post, I stumbled across this blog post on the topic of passion - while it's a tad sciencey, it ends with this great question about harmonious passion: 

Notice the impact your good (harmonious) passion generates in relation to ... your own well-being – your sense of vitality, aliveness and purpose in the world; your relationship with others – what and how you relate to others;  your physical health and energy levels;  your performance and outputs – the quality and quantity and your satisfaction levels. When you pursue your passion, is it harmoniously integrated, creating a kind of peace within? 

I know what the impact of that harmonious passion looks like - thanks to STG modelling it. And I'm thinking I'll know when I'm there. The other great point in that post though I'm less clear I'm ready for:

Take responsiblity to make it happen ... recognize which activities play to your talents and strengths and matter very deeply to you, not because something or somebody outside you tells you to, but because the activity or activities make you feel alive: they are instrinsic to your identity. Take responsibility to cultivate and nurture them.  

I'll let you know what I find, as I wander passionately out into my life. But for now it's time to cook ... because taking care of my sweeties is something that ALWAYS matters to me.  

E - Excited

Christmas and Excited go together like turkey and stuffing; like Frosty and a top hat; like sugar cookies and coloured icing. I haven't really been excited, though - I've been more nervous. Perhaps even trepidatious. I didn't know how thing were going to go, who would be where. I kind of wanted to pretend it wasn't Christmas - that I was just taking a week off in December because I like winter so much.

But all of a sudden, it's here. The trappings and the music and the hubbub. And also the expectation of magic around every corner. And the delight and wonder of surprises. And I for one am excited, not just about the season but about everything new and wonderful that's happening in my life.

The Bombshell Strides Again

Just toodling along this afternoon running some work errands, and since one errand was right beside one of my favourite consignnment stores I thought 'why not just pop in and see what they have in nice dresses.' Just to look. Maybe get some new ideas for New Years Eve. After looking at picture after picture of gowns but mainly trying on cocktail dresses, I just didn't know what I wanted.

And, I wasn't feeling particularly like my fabulous Blonde Bombshell self after some unsuccessful shopping on Sunday and a disappointing trip to the scale this morning. But jaded and cynical with a piquant hint of hope, I went in. Quelle surprise! There were 5 gowns in my approximate size. Not all of them were stunning, but you really can't tell until you put them on so into the tiny change room I charged while the excited shop lady handed me more stuff through the curtain.

Item the first - black georgette slip dress with beautiful shimmering black beadwork flowers and a scalloped split front hemline to die for. It was soft and drapey and feminine. Sure, it needed a nip here and a tuck there. A little lower neck line. Some different support. But it could have worked. And been lovely. And 're-wearable' which I really don't remember being a criteria, but the shop lady thought was worth mentioning.

Item the second - flowy navy georgette with spaghetti straps and top band beading and a front slit and full A-line skirt. It was long and flowy even when I slid into in-store shoes to test for height. It cried out 'that lady's going dancing' (that a quote from the last time my 2 yo nephew saw me in a dress). Elegant, but understated. And let's be honest - we hate understated as much as we love dancing.

Item the fourth - when you step out of the dressing room and the only man in the store says "WOW" you don't keep looking. And when the va-va-voom gown comes matches some very NEW YOU va-va-voom shoes you say thank you very much I'll take it all. .

No description. You'll just have to see it when it's time. And don't even try to guess - it's not at all what I was expecting and exactly what I want. Funny how life is like that.

I want to squeal. And do a little chair dance. And especially I want to wear those shoes and that dress and see jaws drop. Eeeeeeeee! The bombshell is back baby, top to tail!

Wide Open Spaces

I am sitting on my living room floor on a somewhat itchy hand-knotted Moroccan wool rug. I'm in my oldest, most comfortable, yet somehow still flattering nightgown. I have my laptop in (where else) my lap. iTunes is playing new music - songs I've never yet heard (I can practically feel the new neural pathways forming. Did you know new music does that?). I'm eating air-popped popcorn - moderately buttered, and lightly salted. I'm slowly sipping an ice-cold vodka, club soda and lemon juice. The bunny hops by, sometimes tickling my toes. Sometimes just announcing his movements with the clattering of his claws on the laminate floors (he misses BB2 and makes due with my limited company. I miss BB2 and make due with the nose tickles of the bunny).

And life is perfect.

I have remembered, tonight, certain dreams. Dreams that are more than just nebulous embroyonic thoughts  drifting in my mental amniotic fluids. Dreams that had/have pathways meandering through them. Dreams that connect and diverge and morph and grow. Dreams that are scalable, replicatable, and monetizable. Dreams that have domain names and toddling business plans. Dreams that in fact are not dreams at all but that are projects and promises ... one might even call them 'evil plans' if one wasn't more interested in creating goodness.

They got put aside, boxed up and stuffed in a corner to make room for moving, for boys in and out of living rooms, for exciting new jobs with steep learning curves, for exciting new friends with curves of their own. He'll remind me, sometimes, this new friend, that the world is waiting. 'Everyone should have a plan B,' he says. And I, wordy girl that I am, know that I could have a whole alphabet frieze of a plan book, and that all the letters could play together in sesquipedalian splendour.

I worked a couple extra hours today. I went straight on to a 3 hour seminar. And I am right now completely awake and alive and eager to create.

Even wordy creative girls need their sleep though. So that they have all the more energy to create again tomorrow. And so, with Angry Alligators and Zany Zebras dancing through my dreamscape, I sleep to plan another day.

TI♥T: Pork

All week I've been excited about an event I'm going to tonight. But excited in a nostalgic, wistful, girlish kind of way. In some ways that's a bit odd since it's really just a social media-related meetup, and I've been to several of those. I always meet cool & interesting people, but there's no real reason to get all giddy. Except for one small phrase in the midst of the description of this particular meetup:

 We will be having a pig roast ...

Ah, pig roasts. It has been at least 30 years since I was at a true pig roast. When I was between the ages of 4 and 12 my family and I lived in or near company housing provided by my Father's employer about 30 minutes outside the little town we were imprisoned at. As part of the routine maintenance, the houses were painted every 2 years - in one year they'd be painted on the outside, and two years later they'd be painted on the inside. And so on. And, every 2 years the same painter - Andy - would get the job.

I don't know that Andy was his real name, or if that was an Anglicized version of his Hungarian name, but either way this boisterous, friendly Hungarian with his wild gypsy moustache and small crew would descend upon the housing, paint the clapboard white and the trim any one of 4 or 5 colours (it looked a little bit like a rainbow - Beats in the blue house, Dales in the pink house, Olsons in the green house, Enses in the yellow house, Dodges in the blue house at the other end, etc). We'd watch the scaffolding proceed down the road. Knowing the routine, but still treating it with great excitement.

And, every two years, in appreciation for the generous contract that likely sustained his small-business, Andy would - at the end of his labours - give back to us a pig roast. And what a pig roast. A real split-pig carcass - snout to tail - was skewered and spit roasted all-day over a slow burning fire, ferociously tended by the men of the compound - the fire fueled by pine logs, and the men fueled by pilsner. On the first few instances the spit was hand cranked, a hot, tiring job that required frequent changes of manpower. Being the ingenious and mechanincally minded types the men of the compound were, the hand crank was soon replaced with a motor crank, but the constant attention and pilsner-fueled supervision were never modified.

Meanwhile, the rest of the feast was being prepared in the community hall that housed the most amazing parties any kid could hope to attend - Christmas, Halloween, retirements, and Andy's pig roasts - we'd have salads of every description, including jell-o salad in molds (hey, it was the 70's) and baked potatos and soft white rolls (hey, it was the 70's) and all kind of desserts, and the jukebox would play one of it's 23 songs that never got changed, and then the meat would be brought in - smoky and hot and succulent. If you were lucky, your dad might have snuck you a piece of cracklin' - the subcutaneous fat the sizzled and smoked and turned into perfect savoury treats. We'd eat, and dance about, and giggle with our friends.

Sometimes the pilsner got the better of a man or two. My family didn't drink, and I can remember being confused why a certain Mr. of the bunch fell asleep in his potatoes one year. But the over-whelming feeling of community and connectedness and abundance and appreciation is something I'll never forget. And something I've lamented being able to re-create for my sons.

So I'm excited about the pig roast tonight. I know it won't be the same. And that largely I'll be among strangers. There likely won't be any molded jell-o salads, and I hope no one 'falls asleep' in their potatos.

But all the same I'm excited.

Now if I could only remember what it is one wears to a pig roast - especially one that combines business networking and the chance to kayak.

TI♥T: Canada Day Edition (With Glowing Heart)

What else could a good Canadian girl like myself write about on a July 1 Thursday than how proud I am to be Canadian, how much I love Canada, and what fun Canada Day is? Yes, we are a flawed nation. We have imperfections and struggles and crises of identity. But there is nowhere else on earth I'd like to call home.

I am capable of writing an in-depth analysis of Canadian culture. Of debunnking stereotypes (I, for one, like neither beer nor hockey). But instead tonight, having literally just stepped in the door from a fantastic evening with my Funk Soul Brother celebrating in our provincial capital, I'm going to keep is short and sweet. Here then, in no particular order, are the things I truly love about Canada on Canada Day:

• a heaving sea of humanity in red t-shirts, maple-leaf capes, home-made red and white costumes, and everyone saying 'sorry' when they bump into you (or even when you bump into them)
• Canadian flags tied to waving hockey sticks
• Fireworks set to music 
• 30 + abreast cops on foot and motorcycle clearing the street, one of whom turned to tell my FSB and I "it's not a good idea to walk behind us in case people throw bottles and such"
• a distinct lack of bottle throwing
• hearing K'Naan's - the Somalian by birth & Canadian by choice rapper - World Cup socer anthem "Wavin' Flag" blasting from TVs, radios, and sound systems throughout the downtown core
• spontaneous choruses of O Canada in the pub and on the street
• knowing that in a crowd of 50,000 people I am completely safe - connected even - with my co-Canadians
• hearing an American tourist say "these Canadians get more excited about Canada Day than we do even for the 4th of July"

So wave your flag and wave your flag and wave your flag - we're getting better and better at this patriotism thing.



When I get older, I will be stronger
They'll call me freedom
Just like a Waving Flag.
So wave your flag, and wave your flag, and wave your flag.

Born to a throne, stronger than Rome
but Violent prone, poor people zone,
But it's my home, all I have known,
Where I got grown, streets we would roam.

But out of the darkness, I came the farthest,
Among the hardest survival.
Learn from these streets, it can be bleak,
Except no defeat, surrender retreat,
So we struggling, fighting to eat and
We wondering when we'll be free,
So we patiently wait, for that fateful day,
It's not far away, so for now we say
When I get older, I will be stronger

I'll make it better, Struggles all over,
When I get older I will be stronger
They'll call me freedom, just like a waving flag
And wave your flag, and wave your flag, and wave your flag.
So many wars, settling scores,
Bringing us promises, leaving us poor,
I heard them say, love is the way,

Love is the answer, that's what they say,
But look how they treat us, Make us believers,
We fight their battles, then they deceive us,
Try to control us, they couldn't hold us,
Cause we just move forward like Buffalo Soldiers.
But we struggling, fighting to eat,
And we wondering, when we'll be free
So we patiently wait, for that faithful day,
It's not far away, but for now we say,

I Just Haven't Met You Yet (or Have I?)

I took a little road trip today up to the 'Mo to see my parents & my bestest twin cousin & his lovely wife & kids. So that was awesome. What was also awesome was cranking my tunes, & roaring up and down Highway 1 with nothing but the Jade Dragon and my thoughts for company. It was a good drive. Though even after 4 months I still have a hard time driving through Duncan and not taking the right turn into Mill Bay. I've really been missing Cowboy the past 10 days or so. Now that the rest of life is falling into place, I've space to think of him, to reminisce about the great times we had together, and to contemplate again what worked, what didn't work, and what was missing from my side. The terms "baby" and "bathwater" occur to me a lot. So a lot of my drive I was busy looking backwards - no regrets, just questions.

Honestly, and I know some of you will be surprised to hear me admit this, I have been very lucky in love. I choose a wonderful father for my sons. I have had fantastic friends who became lovers, who became friends again. One of my go-to people for 12 years continues to teach me and stand for me and call me on shit and make me smile and giggle and blush. Some have chosen not to be friends, and that's their prerogative, but it sure doesn't diminsh my affection and respect. And hellz ya, I've dated jerks, and learned from them as well.

And while I'm choosing not to date right now, it's no reflection on any of them. Two of them I would consider totally workable, possible, 'maybe someday' options if they were willing and interested and if we grew in ways that make us more compatible instead of less.

So all of that was on my mind as I descended the Malahat this evening. Cruising, passing, lane-changing, reminscing. And then this song came on. And I thought - hey! When did I read Michael Buble my journals?

I'm Not Surprised

Not Everything Lasts

Have Broken My Heart So Many Times,

I Stopped Keepin Track.

Talk Myself In

I Talk Myself Out

I Get All Worked Up

Then I Let Myself Down.

I'm slightly embarrassed to realise how like me the words are. And also slightly relieved that I'm not the only one. I'm drumming on the steering wheel, tapping my foot, singing at the top of my lungs! What's that, Michael, you too have

I Tried So Very Hard Not To Lose It

I Came Up With A Million Excuse

I Thought I Thought Of Every Possibility

And I'm smiling. And laughing at myself. And dreaming. And I'm promising the promises from the bottom of my heart as Michael sings

And I Know Someday That It'll All Turn Out

You'll Make Me Work So We Can Work To Work It Out

And I Promise You Kid That I'll Give So Much More Than I Get

I Just Haven't Met You Yet

And suddenly I'm 100% focused forward - excited about the future that awaits me as of January 1, 2011. I don't know who you are, or who I'll be then, and maybe you are someone I've already met and didn't recognise because I was busy looking at me. But my gosh are we going to have fun working it out!

I Might Have To Wait
I'll Never Give Up
I Guess It's Half Time
And The Other Half's Luck
Wherever You Are
Whenever It's Right
You Come Out Of Nowhere And Into My Life


And I Know That We Can Be So Amazing

And Being In Your Life Is Gonna Change Me

And Now I Can See Every Single Possibility

What 800 Words Look Like on a Tuesday Morning

I’m here to start a yoga/writing challenge. Twenty-one days of writing 800 words/day. I have lots of ideas, lots of nervousness, some doubt as to my ability to make writing/yoga a part of a routine that already feel too full, and a readiness to breakthrough in doing those things that really matter to me and what I’m up to – my health is becoming a critical matter for the first time in my life. And I need to write – to express myself – to use my gift with words to be heard and to make a difference with others.

Some of the ideas that I’ve come up with so far (note to self: come back to this list when you’re stuck) include:  

• Love letters to each of the men I’m incomplete with, or who have gone unacknowledged, or even who I’ve just never sent a love letter to after our relationship completed. Or maybe a letter creating for myself who they are and what I’m grateful to them for. And by doing this creating myself as a soul mate in the making, since that’s another area where I see certain things for me to distinguish, complete, and get out of the way of any future relationship.

• The Travel BC article I started last year – adding to it, creating other travelogues, creating for myself who I am as a traveller and a writer. I’ve been places and done things and those have truly influenced who I am ... why not have a record of it?
• Becoming: A Novel Always Becoming. I don’t really know where to start there, but I’m going forward with the ‘hope’ that that will change ... that some structure or story arc or vignettes will present themselves. I clearly don’t know how to write a novel, but I’m going to keep going.
• My Adventures in Empty Nesting journal – right now those entries exist in an a journal, which makes it harder to confirm that I’ve written the requisite 800 words, but I love the feeling of curling into my bed at the end of the day, opening a beautiful notebook bought especially for this purpose, and reflecting on one theme – creating my space to be – in the comfy, coxy retreat that is my down duvet and fluffy pillows. I think what I’ll do is look at how many words I’ve been writing on average so far, and allow for that in how much I write in the mornings, since it’s what I do as I’m turning out the lights and don’t want to go to sleep wondering if I’ve completed what I’ve committed to: 800 words/day.
• Shan’s Smiles & Winks - I’m not sure how much of my blog I’ll consider a part of this process. On the one hand, why would I make things harder than they have to be? Why not include those words that I write anyway and put out there. Besides, the beauty of posting my challenge writing to my blog is that my 21.5.800 community (and everyone else) can then respond to it. If it’s all just on the computer/in a journal I’m not engaging in the community aspect of the challenge. Doing it on my own is a way of being that I want to give up, and engaging in the community – learning from, growing with, contributing to – is something I’m committed to.

Well, I can see that one thing I predicted is already occurring as true. I know that it’s true that I can sit down and write an easy 500 words in about 20 minutes. For me it seems like 500 words expresses a complete thought from beginning to end, and then there is the challenge ... the gap between an easy 500 words and a commitment to at least 800 words. Sure, I could come back later today and try to come up with another 145 words (this makes 660 total), but then it will be there hanging over me all day – that thing you started the day with is incomplete. Go back. Keep going. You shouldn’t have quit so easily (quitting being something I tell myself I do).

Besides which, I have a pretty jam-packed schedule, and that I have carved out an hour to write each morning suggests to me that I should bloody well sit here and write until I’m done. And, if some mornings I can’t squeeze out 800 words in the morning writing session, we’ll cross that bridge then. Maybe re-read The Right to Write or Writing Down the Bones (you can find them in my Amazon list on the left). I do promise though, for myself and the 21.5.800 community, and those people who regularly read my blog, that my next 21 days of posting won’t all be on the theme of the challenge. I’m looking at topics (as you might have been able to tell from the ideas list above) such as

• Love, love lost, loving myself, and creating myself as a soul mate rather than looking for someone to be that for me
• Travel, were I’ve been, what I’ve learned, where I’m going next
• Writing, learning about writing, resources for writers, reading great writing, reading about writing
• Yoga, health, nutrition, and what the heck I’m learning/doing about it all

I have another plan for my Empty Nesting journal, so you won’t likely see much of that right now, but it is in process and will ultimately get out there.

And that, my friends, is how you push through the automatic 500+ word slow down and ride on through to 930+ words. Not bad for a first day.

California Here We Come!

It's a busy day today, but I'm really excited about some stuff. Most of all, that it's been a while (like a decade?) since I took my sons on any kind of real holiday besides to see family, and in April BB2 is going to come with me to San Francisco.

YAY!!!!

Granted I'll be in meetings much of the time, but we're going to figure out things we can do before/after my meetings and for him to do while I'm otherwise engaged.

And, I'm SUPER excited that I get to share one of my favourite cities with him!

More big announcements coming soon.