Category Archives: inspiring

It’s not about how you see yourself dying, it’s about how you see yourself living

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Most days I find Facebook too full of judgement, too saturated with over-sharing and too congested with an exaggerated amount of requests to play something called Farmville.   But on rare occasions, things are shared that make me glad I have not deleted my account.  The video below made me think a lot about how I am living my life and it made me cry.  The tears that stained my cheeks were a mixture of sadness for the loss of such a beautiful life and tears of joy for being able to have a brief glimpse into the soul of such a beautiful child.

Please take the 20 minutes to watch the story of Zach Sobiech.  It will make the subject line of this post stand out in the forefront of your mind and make me you rethink how you live your life each day.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9NjKgV65fpo

Getting back my sense of self

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For the first time in a long time I walked through my house tonight and found I was smiling.  I wasn’t reliving a memory or anticipating an upcoming event, I was just….happy.

I hadn’t realized how much of my happiness had been consumed by reality until the corners of my lips were turned upright for no particular reason.  After all the tension I have experienced over the last couple of months, I was sure those muscles had atrophied and would require intense physiotherapy to get the full range of motion to return.  The degeneration of joy was paralyzing.

But I am once again finding beauty in my surroundings because stress no longer abrades my senses.  The scent of lilacs permeates my nose as soon as I step outside and the sounds of the creatures of the night soothe me with their harmonic tones.  And after many nights of being unaware of the true depth of my melancholy, I am now able to appreciate their symphony and realize that my true bliss has returned.

My words flow more freely now because they are no longer trapped in a smoldering vat of fermenting unrest.  My brain is at ease and my creativity flows in small streams until it culminates at the mouth of the river.  Those ideas trickle along the banks of my mind.  Each drop of inspiration is collected, it pools and eddies at the precipice until the words spill uncontrollably over the crest of rock and create a waterfall of language and expression.  That waterfall is my release.  That rapid flow of ideas is my heaven.

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(image credit: commons.wikimedia.org)

I have slowly re-acquainted myself with the things that I hold dear.  I have learned to let go of the stress and spend time each day making new memories and not just relying on recollections of my past to satiate my need for happy thoughts.  I have regained my inner compass.  I have reclaimed my sense of self.

The fading image in my rear-view mirror

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Like the perfect piece of baker’s chocolate, today will be bittersweet.  I am comfortably ensconced in a chair in my office, shrouded by four very familiar walls that are situated on a property that I could maneuver my way around with my eyes closed.  But today is my last day in this place.

A big part of my life has been spent exploring every facet of the 408 acres that make up this resort property.  From my humble beginnings in 1986 I have cleaned every single one of the 158 rooms on numerous occasions, I have served hundreds of people in its dining room, I have greeted hundreds more at the front desk and I have encouraged thousands to vacation here.  My car could drive itself from home to office after the numerous trips we have made together down this winding Muskoka road.

This home away from home has been the site of many experiences for me, some fantastic and some tragic.  This job was not just a job.  This place gave me the tools to grow, not only as an employee and a boss, but as a person.  This place introduced me to many people I consider an extended part of my family.  From staff to hotel guests, the connections I have made here will last a lifetime.

cleves water front

(image credit: http://www.clevelandshouse.com)

But the time has come to change the landscape I see on my drive to work.  Although the splendor of the Muskoka beauty will still be seen through each of my car windows, the shadows that dance on the road before me will be different.  The path that my tires follow will be not be naturally carved in the pavement leading me to the walls that contain so many memories.   This new path will take time to feel as comfortable but I’m sure it will lead me to just as much happiness.

As the image of a lifetime fades in my rear-view mirror, the path ahead is waiting to welcome me with open arms and begin the journey of making new memories.

The Call of Nature

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I’ve had these pictures on my phone for a while and wanted to share them.

a crack in the armor

A crack in the armor of ice.

ice

Intricate patterns in the early morning freeze on my patio table.

ring around the sun

Ring around the sun.

patterns

Hashtag in the sky.

ominous whisps

The atmosphere air-brushed the sky.

criss cross

Same effect in lighter shades.

morning glory

A stunning sky to ease me into the morning.

Decease and desist – Trifecta Post

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His halted steps were deliberate.   He had no physical ailment restraining him but the heaviness in his heart seemed to impede his movement.  The church steps spanned his peripheral vision and the large wooden doors loomed ahead making him feel small, almost minuscule.   He had to cross the threshold.  He knew that as sure as he knew he needed to breathe the air that now seemed viscous and ready to choke him with his next inhalation.

One foot found its place in front of the other and his hand reached for the over-sized handle.  The door groaned its argument about being forced open but he moved forward, knowing what waited for him on the other side.  He knew the faces he would see would seem vaguely familiar but he could not focus on them.  Today was about something much deeper.  Today was about death.

He had recited the eulogy aloud over and over until the words had etched themselves into his brain.  The crowd fell silent as he made his way to the front of the room.  He furtively glanced at the collection of people gathered within the confines of the church walls and collected every ounce of strength that remained in his sorrow-filled body.

The many trial runs in the mirror made it easier and the words seem to spill from his lips.  “My name is Ray, and I am an alcoholic.  Somewhere along the way, the person I was died and this is his funeral.”

“Hi, Ray.”

~

This post was written for the Trifecta Post:
DELIBERATE
1: characterized by or resulting from careful and thorough consideration <a deliberate decision>
2: characterized by awareness of the consequences<deliberate falsehood>
3: slow, unhurried, and steady as though allowing time for decision on each individual action involved

Remember:
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  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
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What a tangled web we weave

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I have always been a big fan of telling the truth.  I’m not going to start with the lies now and say I haven’t told my share of the little white variety, but telling the truth is a much simpler way to ride the tracks of life.  It keeps our journey going in one direction with no sudden derailment or unexpected change in our course.

The art of deceit really is that, an art form.  It takes an organized mind to weave the web of lies and keep track of those lies.  Deceit has a way of exponentially evolving into more lies and the teller of those fallacies must internally document each line of betrayal in order to follow their own fibs.  It takes a somewhat composed mentality to follow the flowchart of untruths.

A web is conventionally described as something intricately contrived, something that will ensnare or entangle.  If only the teller of all the falsities realized that the victim of their woven trap was going to be themselves in the end.  It takes a cunning mind to begin weaving that web and follow each string that they have strung within it, but it takes an absolute genius to conform to all of the strings of lies within their web and remember which lie each string represents.

There does come a point when that continuous flow of distortion will fracture.  It takes one proverbial fly in the ointment, or in this case the web, and all of the falsehoods spectacularly disintegrate and split into a million loose ribbons of fiction.  If you sort through the wreckage, there is not one shred of truth to be found within that mangled mass of treachery.  Deception becomes a labyrinth with no possible escape.

Telling the truth will ultimately lead you to the most authentic experience you could have.  Sure, lies can give you the immediate escape you seek, but the truth has a way of rearing its ugly head when you least expect it.  It brings stark reality back into the fold and as the web is dismantled, it becomes a collection of meaningless strings.

Living an authentic life has more of a purpose than a life shadowed with doubt and deception.  You can protect yourself with layers of hypocrisy for only so long before people start to see the true core of your being.  They will systematically clip those strings you have so cleverly woven and expose the person that you really are.

You can only have legitimate relationships by being your true self.   If you begin any relationship with dishonesty, it will never be a true relationship.  Smoke and mirrors can only last until the smoke dissipates and you are left staring at your stark reality.  Don’t let that reflection be shrouded with the web of your lies.

Those who say goodbyes are easy never really meant them….

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Saying that final goodbye closes a chapter.  Sometimes that is a good thing but inevitably goodbye means closing ties to something you felt a bond with.  That something could be inanimate or that something could be flesh and blood.  Regardless, goodbyes are never easy.

I have experienced many of those closures over the last few weeks and each one of them has meant storing a memory – trapping a moment in a vault that holds the value of a time gone by.  I have begun the process of bidding adieu to a job that I have spent many years growing as an employee and as a person, I have sorted through things my mother has saved throughout our lifetime and I will be saying farewell to a house that helped my family shape the people we are today.  Although my mom has moved into a retirement home and seems happy to be moving forward, saying goodbye to the life we lived will be difficult.

Each minute I spend sorting through things from our past is a minute that brings my childhood back to the forefront.  A single item of my mother’s clothing transports me back 30 years and I can see the last moment I remember her wearing that shirt.  Knowing the power of recollection that shirt can elicit makes it that much harder to say goodbye to that relic of fashion, but time marches on and the goodbye must be uttered.

Precious memories recede on the plain of our existence but they impart a lasting impression.  A smell, a piece of fabric or a place in the capsule of time can cement our memory and form a piece of our history that is still accessible in the far reaches of our minds.  Although the farewells may be necessary, the challenge of walking away from something will never be easy.

I hope that these goodbyes don’t mean that going away signifies forgetting.  That is something I am not willing to do.  Although goodbyes are difficult, losing those memories is not an option.  Past experiences carve the path for the future.  Past experiences shape our sense of self. Past experiences make us who we are.

goodbye

(image credit: healthyplace.com)

Goodbyes are never effortless, but they are necessary.  Saying goodbye to the past can only open the door for the future.  My heart may be in the memory, but my hope still lies in what is to come.

Impossible is two letters too long

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I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge.   I have lived under the premise that if it’s worth having, it’s worth fighting for, and that has served me well.  Like removing the word “can’t” from my vocabulary, I also try never to utter the word “impossible”.

When my dad was still with us, not a day went by that he didn’t mention the phrase – where there’s a will, there’s a way – and I adopted that idiom rather quickly.  I learned my survival skills and my desire to succeed by heeding the wisdom of that small string of words.  By keeping that will fed and nourished, the two letters that may have impeded the possible slowly fall into the alphabet once again and all things are attainable.

alphabet

(image credit: 123freevectors.com)

When I begin any new task, the thought never crosses my mind that I will fail at that particular undertaking.  The final product may not be the desired result, but a reasonable facsimile is still an encouraging beginning.  I dive headfirst into the endeavor and face the dragon head on because the reward comes from trying.  Failure can only come from not attempting the initial project.

All things are possible and the only time I will use the letters “I” and “M” are to say I’m going to try my best!

Here’s to you Ms. Dickinson

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The Daily Prompt got me again….POW, right in the kisser.  Here’s what they want: National Poetry Writing Month is nearly at an end. To celebrate it, try your hand at some verse.

~

Air flows in circular patterns,

over the crushed brown grass.

Blades slowly stretch from the earth,

as Spring has finally come to pass.

Trees blossom and new life grows,

reaching from outstretched limbs.

Birds crest on upward drafts,

they are the promise of summer’s warm winds.

The chill of the night air recedes,

giving way to the heat of the sun.

Mother Nature has blessed us,

Her beauty is not to be outdone.

My Muskoka, my words….in print!!

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After much anticipation (and many chewed fingernails) the piece of writing that represents my love for the place I call home has been put into publication.  Unfortunately, it does not link to the article without temporarily registering for the e-version of the magazine which means submitting an email address and phone number, but it is available online with that information.

I understand if you are leery of subscribing and the article will undoubtedly be available more readily after the next addition is out, but if you want to see the published piece you can follow the link here.  Follow down the toolbar and click on eEdition. I’m on page 96.

magazine

(and for the first time in my life, I don’t hate my picture!!)