Moving

Moving is not always an easy step to take.  Hearing the cacophony of your alarm close upon your bedside table usually startles anyone into the new day but getting out of bed is usually a slow and deliberate process with the temptation to stay where it’s comfortable and warm.  I can recall of so many mornings where I was stalling and bargaining with myself…”if I have cereal for breakfast I can sleep for one more snooze” or “my lesson plans are ready for the first period; I can sleep for two more snoozes.”  The first foot hitting the floor is always the hardest.  The second foot hitting the floor gets a little easier and before you know it, the movement builds momentum and the day has started.

The most difficult move I ever made was to change careers.  I found my previous career promising and enjoyable but there were a lot of factors that I couldn’t be content with.  I started flirting with the possibility of changing careers.  It took me a couple of years to finally make the decision to leave.  While it was a hard decision, once I got moving on the process I became surprised how much I wanted the change.  The catch to this new career:  a move across the country.

Moving to a new province and leaving behind my family has been the most difficult step to take but thankfully, we see it as a fruitful decision.  Moving has its rewards.  It provides brand new opportunities; a fresh start and the beginning of a new journey to seek adventure…and mountains for snowboarding only a few hours away.

Everything I know in life I learned from driving my car….

I remember the first time my dad let me drive.  I was 9 years old and it was snowing.  My dad taught me how to do my very first doughnut.  I remember reeling from the adrenaline and excitement but I wasn’t focused on the car, but on the doughnuts.

Fast forward years later, I’m sitting behind the steering wheel of my dad’s shop car.  It was an old Mazda 323 without power steering or automatic fuel injection.  I sat there, with my hands at 10 and 2, my freshly printed G1 license in my wallet and I was ready to roll.  The problem:  I was in a standard and we were on a hill.

From the frustrating moments of trying to sort out the complicated triple waltz of the clutch, brake, and gas to reveling in the freedom that driving brings I have realized the powerful connection between an automobile and the lessons to be learned.

Everything I need to know I learned from driving…

Green light means go and red light means stop…and depending which part of the world you are in a yellow light means speed up, slow down, or slam on your breaks because someone else is speeding up.

Respect the rules of the road.  These may change but it’s always important to understand the expectations.

Know where your wheels are.

Don’t cut people off.

Signs need to be followed.  If a sign says “road washed out by flooding” assume it is.

Fender benders happen to everyone.

Accidents happen in life.  Sometimes they work out; other times they don’t.

Rush hour…it is inevitable.  Some days you are going to have to slow down.

Sunday drives are the most enjoyable.

There are many different roads.  Some lead to work, others to a friend’s house, some may lead to a happy or painful memory. Roads can also be bumpy, closed, backed up, or apparently even washed out by flooding…

Sometimes you need to be assertive and merge confidently…in Montreal traffic and in unfamiliar situations.

I remember the freedom I experienced driving home (solo) for the first time after my driving test.  My passion for driving has driven me to explore, pursue adventure, learn how to read a map, practice patience during rush hour, seek out detours during seasons of construction and reconstruction, and learn short cuts to help manage my time or find scenic routes when I need to reflect or just to pass the time.

Navigating through life is very similar to navigating the familiar local roads of everyday life or navigating through the unfamiliar wilds of the unknown.  The easiest road to drive is in a straight line, but not all destinations can be reached with smooth, well-maintained, paved roads.   Sometimes it takes a journey of switchbacks and detours to find the place you are meant to be.

Responding with Attitude–I mean, a Positive Attitude.

This weekend I have been reflecting on two things:

1. We are not in control.
2. There’s always much more going on then we realize.

I admit, I don’t always remember these two minor ‘inconveniences’ of being a mere mortal.   When I do slow down from my Autobahn speed of life, I do try and consider how to respond to roadblocks and detours that appear at every turn.

I try to be mindful in how I react.  I wish I could say that I have achieved perfect equanimity, but remember…I’m still human (just making sure you’re tracking).  Even in the midst of my hard days and low moments, I really do try to maintain a positive attitude.  I might not be in control and there’s a lot more layers to life than I have the privilege of seeing, but it’s up to me to control my attitude and how it manifests through my life.

Reading today I came across a quotation that I hope will remind me to respond rather than react to the ebbs and flows of life.

“The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company… a church… a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past… we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you… we are in charge of our Attitudes.”

Charles Swindoll

Waves

Today could have been a bad day.  “Nevertheless, we must run aground on some island,” were among the first words I read today.  Sitting by myself in the quiet, dark hours of morning I deliberately decided that I would have a good day, no matter the waves that threatened to knock me off my board.

Fast-forward a few hours later, I received potentially devastating news.  As I listened and tried to digest the information, I was reminded of a particular wave that overwhelmed me and took me for a tumultuous ride in the undertow.  Spinning violently, my body tossed around, I was completely unaware of what was up or down.  Rather than panic I knew that I eventually would be “spit out” on the shore.

While my first instinct is to fight and demand a change in circumstance, I also realize that it’s important to understand that some things don’t always go the way you want them to.  When faced with challenges, I struggle to find a balance between effort and the need to let things go.  Sometimes my strong drive and ability to assert myself can also be a limitation as much as an asset.  Surrendering to the challenge does not mean I give up, but rather realize the need to rest on the issue and let it work its course.

A yoga instructor commented during one of the more difficult asanas that “the best yogis are those who are happiest in their practice.” It’s true that we need to be happy where we’re at, even when we are waylaid by circumstances.  As one particularly enlightened yogi put it, “you can’t stop the waves but you can learn to surf.”  Perhaps the greatest lesson is the need to be content in whatever situation I find myself in.  For all I know, this might be exactly where I’m supposed to be.  In the meantime, I’ll surf (or at least relive those moments in my head).

Laughter and the importance of being silly

While we were driving on the Inter-American highway, Ash and I saw an iguana race across the highway in the most hilarious fashion (think road runner).  His arms were spinning circles, his eyes were enormous, he had his sights set on the other side of the road, and he was determined not to die.  While the whole crossing took only a moment, the laughter that ensued followed us throughout Costa Rica and will probably stay with us for a very long time.

Sometimes laughter and silliness are the first to go in one’s day-to-day routine.  So often silliness is sacrificed for seriousness.

On one of our days in CR, we were feeling a little indecisive with our plans.  We wanted to enjoy the sun and surf but the waves were not suited to surfing (RE:  danger).  We decided to head to the beach and tan and in a moment of sheer silliness, I stripped down to my bikini and in true cartoon iguana fashion ran straight for the water letting the waves crash down on me.  It was the most refreshing (and frightening) act of silliness, and best of all; it was contagious.

Life is already serious enough, what a pleasure it is when you can mix in a little silliness.

Driven by fear

Growing up, my Nonno taught me to fear the basement by saying “Lupo” lived downstairs. The thought of a wolf lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce on a small child didn’t deter me from exploring the basement, but it did teach me to proceed with caution (especially in the cantina).

As an adult, I can shake my head to my amusement of this potential therapy-required childhood moment, but I do see how a touch of fear can be a formidable force.

Fear in itself is not a bad thing. It is an essential response to physical and emotional danger. It serves as a tool for self-preservation, protecting us from legitimate threats. However, consider how often we let fear cripple us in situations that are not sincere threats and we hold back for no good reason.

Last week, I let fear overtake me and a wave of anxiety ran through me. All day I felt the pulsing through my veins. It was not until I opened up, talking to someone about it that I realized how insignificant or out of my hands these anxieties were. I think about the times I have let fear rule my life, keeping me from experiencing joy and living a full life. Often it’s the fear of failure that keeps me sidelined, even when I hold the pole position.

Fear can also be a motivating factor. It can propel us into adventure; leaving behind our inhibitions to just let go. The first time I rappelled, I remember thinking that it was the urge to overcome fear that delivered the stimulus to take my first step off the tower. The reward: a huge rush of adrenaline and accomplishment.

I guess there’s an art to balancing fear. Just like anything else in life (work and play) there’s a need to find equilibrium in fear that protects vs. fear that motivates, and leave behind the fear that cripples.

It’s the end of an era

Rachel: I mean we’re not, we’re not gonna live together anymore?
Monica: No.
Rachel: What? Oh my God! I’m gonna miss you so much!
Monica: I’m gonna miss you!
Rachel: I mean it’s the end of an era!
Monica: I know!

Two summers ago I moved in with my friend Ash. We knew each other fairly well, but still had a lot of getting to know one another. While it took some time and communication to get into a living routine, we quickly progressed into close friends, best friends, and finally family.

It was easy to live with her. We liked the same things: strong coffee, red wine, fitness, eating healthy, driving fast, going to the beach, road trips, watching Friends…you know, the simple things. We also appreciated the complicated: discussing relationships, our faith, the power and influence of our words and actions, and the constant desire to live a bigger story.

Visiting Ash over the long weekend gave us some time to reminisce (and laugh) about the ridiculous escapades we often found/find ourselves in. There’s always been something about our friendship that drives us to seek out some form of adventure and excitement. I know it’s going to take some time to adjust living apart, but I also know that small little anecdotes are going to keep the memories fresh.

It is the end of an era. Here’s to new adventures.

About a month ago, I wrote a guest post on Ashley’s blog. The post articulates (the best words can) the special moments shared during our time living together. You can read it here.

A story about perspective

Today I woke up at the base of the mountain and wondered if it was even worth climbing. Looking outside, the day was full of promise. The sun was rising, but in my head it was storming. After some calming advice from a family member, I was able to focus on sunshine, thanks to some perspective.

I remember receiving an email during university that depicts the importance of having perspective. I think it’s worth sharing. For my faithful readers (all two of them), who are in need of a laugh or some perspective, enjoy.

Dear Mother and Dad,

Since I left for college I have been remiss in writing and I am sorry for my thoughtlessness in not having written before. I will bring you up-to-date now, but before you read on, please sit down. You are not to read any further unless you are sitting down, okay?

Well, then, I am getting along pretty well now. The skull fracture and the concussion I got when I jumped out the window of my dormitory when it caught on fire shortly after my arrival here is pretty well healed now. I only spent two weeks in the hospital and now I can see almost normally and only get those sick headaches once a day.

Fortunately, the fire in the dormitory, and my jump, was witnessed by an attendant at the gas station near the dorm, and he was the one who called the fire department and the ambulance.

He also visited me in the hospital and since I had nowhere to live because of the burnt-out dormitory, he was kind enough to invite me to share his apartment with him. It’s really a basement room, but it’s kind of cute. He is a very fine boy and we have fallen deeply in love and are planning to get married. We haven’t got the exact date yet, but it will be before my pregnancy begins to show.

Yes, Mother and Dad, I am pregnant. I know how much you are looking forward to being grandparents and I know you will welcome the baby and give it the same love and devotion and tender care you gave me when I was a child.

The reason for the delay in our marriage is that my boyfriend has a minor infection which prevents us from passing our premarital blood tests and I carelessly caught it from him.

Now that I have brought you up to date, I want to tell you that there was no dormitory fire, I did not have a concussion or skull fracture, I was not in the hospital, I am not pregnant, I am not engaged, I am not infected, and there is no boyfriend.

However, I am getting a “D” in American history, and an “F” in chemistry and I want you to see those marks in their proper perspective.

Your loving daughter,
Sharon

Author Unknown

Road Rage

This morning I woke up feeling a little road rage.  No, it wasn’t due to the Election results, though I’m still slightly perplexed on how that happened.  The trigger for my frustration was a result of watching news coverage on another event from yesterday:  Osama Bin Laden’s death.

I will most certainly point out that I’m not upset by his death but I’m stunned, if not a little unsettled by the general reaction to his death.  Cloaked in the veil of patriotism, many people are cheering and celebrating.  Some are calling it a safer world without him and closer to a world of peace.  I thought there was only one death (and resurrection) that promised world peace?  I find it remarkable to listen to people’s fixation on Bin Laden’s death as bringing justice to the tragic events of September 11^th.   I just wonder if closure can be found in justice when it sounds like revenge?  Maybe I’m not the only one experiencing road rage.

Road rage is often triggered by our human nature to balance the score.  I remember a particular example of road rage in my life.  I was waiting in line at a drive through bank machine when a car cut me off and pushed in front of me.  I must have used every word in the profanity dictionary.  I was livid.  The White Witch in Narnia was altruistic compared to how I was behaving.  I remember driving up to the guy with the intent of flashing him a rude gesture, but folly got in my way.  I was not looking how close I was to the median and I heard a sickening and heart-wrenching crunch of my rocker panel being scraped against concrete.  Immediately, I realized how ridiculous I was being and drove away humbled.

I guess my point, even if rambling…is that I think there is something in mankind that loves revenge; it just doesn’t always work out the way we want it to.  I do not believe the world is any safer or more secure with Bin Laden gone.  Just as Batman still has other villains to chase once Joker is behind bars, there are other rogues (globally and in our own backyards) waiting for the opportunity to spark road rage.

There’s a quotation by Martin Luther King Jr. that seems to fit with what I’m trying to say:

The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral,
begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy.
Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it.
Through violence you may murder the liar,
but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth.
Through violence you may murder the hater,
but you do not murder hate.
In fact, violence merely increases hate.
So it goes.
Returning violence for violence multiplies violence,
adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness:
only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.

Road rage may be an intrinsic response but how we cope and move on says a little more about how we love.

Make room for me

I love Paco.  He’s a good guy.  When he gives me those puppy eyes (and no one is looking), I occasionally let him up on the coach.  I like the way he slowly starts making his way up, ignoring the magazines, books, computer, pillow, and whatever else might be in his way.  He doesn’t care if there’s no room; he makes room for himself.

I think we need people in our lives that will make room for themselves in our (often artificially) busy lives.  How special it is to have friends who don’t care about disrupting routines, agendas, and general busyness.  They just show up and make room for themselves.  Doesn’t an unexpected phone call from a friend cause a wider smile than a planned one?

I had quite the experience on Monday and it left me pretty shaken.  It’s funny what goes through your mind in “close call” situations.  I expected moments in my life to roll much like the credits roll at the end of a film, or in my case, bloopers.  Instead, I had this overwhelming feeling that everything was going to be all right.  The other thoughts I had surprised me, but then again, not really at all.

I guess if I can learn anything from this experience (besides the mechanics of counter steering) is the need to make room for myself in my friends’ lives.  It’s okay to call late.  It’s okay to show up unexpected.  It’s okay to ask for favours.  It’s not okay to let worries of getting in their space affect your friendships.

Now, make room for me!