Let's Talk

Most people believe vulnerability is weakness. But really, vulnerability is courage. We must ask ourselves...are we willing to show up and be seen?" Brené Brown

I 100% agree with that statement. It fits my modus operandi, it jives with my raison d'être...hell I could have wrote it. You want to know what else I think? That it's utter bullshit to someone that has to deal with their own issues in conjunction with this sentiment. I'm talking about anxiety and depression, mental health my friends. That uncomfortable and oft hidden spectrum of "health" that for most of the last few centuries has been relegated to the shadows. The part of the health system that has been subjugated to the absurd, the crude and the scorn of society. 

I think it's incredibly easy for a guy like me to reach for platitudes on any number of issues as I don't have any anxieties that I am aware of. I'm a relatively well adjusted malcontent that is comfortable in my own skin and feel at ease with my life in general. While that is good news for me and those around me it doesn't amount to a hill of beans for those close to me that deal with loneliness, anxieties and depression...know that I am trying everyday to be a better person in this aspect. And while I think I have made some good progress I am reminded often enough that I'm far from where I should be. I believe context matters in this. I also believe that I'm not the whole answer...I'm trying to help when asked to but professionals are better equipped to truly help.

Today is Bell's "let's talk" day. A campaign to shed light on the issues many people deal with, to remove the stigma and throw support towards a woefully underfunded aspect of our system. I applaud them for it because God knows we need something. We need more resources, more direction, more understanding. Everyday should be about this.

For what it's worth, I'm there if you need to talk.

Ciao
D

Milestones Revisted

The big Five O!! Little old me is actually 50 years old now. That picture is my gift, from my children, to commemorate that almost hard to believe milestone. The message pretty apropos don't you think?

A moment of reflection perhaps to look around and think on where my life is. I've spoken often enough about the imagery and metaphor of the tapestry around what that reflection may look like, a weaving together of all the people and experiences that have happened over the past 50 years bringing me to where I am today. Incredible highs and just enough of the lows to keep it real and to add context. I am incredibly blessed, from my "three little birds" and on I have a lot to be thankful for. And really that is what I feel like talking about...not a mark on a calendar but a loving acknowledgement of, well....you. 

Those of you that have been subjected to my meandering mouth and brain, received semi regular texts that show I have been thinking of you, have sat with me while sipping wine, ate together, walked together, rolled down hills together, drove together, loved together and simply been together. The salient idea being together. You know who you are of course; my family and friends that have sustained me, filled me with love and friendship. Those I have learned from, worked with and simply been with....what better thing to celebrate this number then to raise a glass to you all..."I am because you are."

I recall vividly the first time I heard the word Ubuntu. Bono was speaking at a leadership thing for Paul Martin way back when and he talked of this idea, this belief that we are bound together, as Desmond Tutu explained, “My humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together.” One of those moments when you realize you just heard something important, and in my case another thread or two had been added to the tapestry of my life because of it. That was 2003, when I was still a young lad at the age of 35. To think of all that has transpired from that day to this can be both huge and daunting...but it's simply the life I've lived. We've all lived. With many of you being there all along and some having joined the party more recently.

"We win together, we lose together. We celebrate and we mourn together. 

And defeats are softened and victories sweeter because we did them together... 

You're my guys and I'm yours... and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

So, for my birthday I want to send my love to you all. Near and far a great big hug from the best hugger ever. I've have hugs, I have the best hugs to parody you know who. Come over and have a drink if you're in the neighbourhood, bring cake if you must ;)

Ciao
D

Me Too Revisted

Not too long ago I had won some tickets to see Kevin Hart do a show at the Metro Centre. I had to have people explain to me who he was because obviously I am so out of touch with the world that I didn't know anything about him or his comedy. So I didn't have any clue on what to expect from his show. While he had a few funny bits, in general he did nothing for me. No tears streaming down my face in comedic orgasm heaven. But I did walk out thinking that he was a douche bag, so I suppose that's something. Why? Because I feel he's a douche bag, that's why.

Let me begin this little rant o' mine with the acknowledgement that I am far from perfect when it comes to what I am going to go off on. I have learned lessons over my life and continue to do so. Sometimes I have been too casual with emotions, I am guilty of not being the best I can be when it comes to relationships for any number of reasons. I'm not looking for absolution, this is simply my way of saying that I could be doing better; know better, do better. That's all.

What I found objectionable about Kevin Hart was his objectification of women. Bitches be this and bitches be that. And many of his stories were about the "bitches" in his life. Those of you that have read a few posts here or know me personally know that I don't shy away from much of anything and very little shocks me, indeed I take pleasure in doing some shocking of my own. So when I take offence to this kind of crap spewing you know I'm not just saying something to be saying something. I take issue with it, because I have daughters and because I am a human being.

So why this today? A close friend got a message on a dating site the other day, another in a long string of utterly disgusting manifestations of what some guys think is what women need to hear. She's not unique in this as, sadly, I have a number of female friends that have shared the plethora of "dick pics" and barely veiled misogyny that passes for playful banter. Well, it is not. Not when it is unsolicited. Not when it comes in the form of some sort of exercise in male dominance. And especially when it is accompanied by some sort of porn induced idea around what a guy should do to a woman. Is it any wonder that the Me Too movement has gained such momentum?

I don't give a good god damn what consenting adults decide to do in their lives. Sex wise, dating wise, life wise...to each their own I say. But we must remember the key word here is consenting. None of the women I have as friends or ones that I have met in the course of my life would willingly accept an unsolicited dick pic...not one. So put it away, no one wants to see it.

This is but one issue in a larger discussion around the simple fact that there are far too many people in this world that feel they, and they alone, have the right of dominion over others. And far too often this is done to the detriment of women. Where in our history did this become a thing? How has society so evolved to allow the subjugation of women to be considered "normal". "Oh, it's just locker room talk." "Boys will be boys." "I'm not a sexist but." And we sit idly by. Pretend we didn't hear it or laugh it off silently. Hoping we don't get called out on our deafening silence. Instead, maybe we can all start acting like men of character. Reach for the higher ground of decency and understanding. Know that words matter and to not be so cavalier with their use.

If there is a silver lining that I will pass on to my friends it is this. Consider yourself fortunate to have discovered the quality of this persons character before getting too intertwined with them. It is not a pleasurable thing to be on the receiving end of this garbage, but know that it isn't personal, it really is him being him, showing you his true colours. Which is puke douche bag of course.

The picture above is courtesy of my good friend Margo. A strong and vibrant woman with a gift and passion for exploring, through her medium, the power of not only herself but of all women. Of all people really. Believe in you.

“Nothing and no one is perfect”

Ciao

D

MLK

Some people may get the impression that perhaps I don't really like the President of the United States too much. I may have, from time to time, let it be known that he isn't at the top of my list for best presidents and such. I try not to broadcast my feelings too often on this subject....HA! Pardon my French, or don't, he is a cock sucking asshole douche canoe of the worst kind. Despite his declarations to the contrary, he's also a racist, a sexual predator, a misogynist and a moronic narcissist. And the bastard has access to nukes. What's not to like?

I wonder what Dr King would think of Drumph were he alive today? Would that middle finger be more prominent? Joined by his other hand? I think despite the progress that has been made in the struggle for equality MLk would be saddened and angered, not only because an obvious unqualified  person sits in the oval office, but because there are far too many people giving tacit approval to that stupid Cheeto.

"In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, 

but the silence of our friends."

I've said it before, Drumph is bad enough, his enablers are just as bad if not worse. There is honour in being the loyal opposition, which used to stand for providing reasonable alternatives and keeping the government in check. But in these divided times it means tagging your opponent with "gotcha politics" and getting some for yourself. The morons in Congress will use the phrase "my friends across the aisle" when they couldn't act any more like enemies if they tried. Thunder Dome is coming. Proclaiming to act in the interest of regular average folks than turning a blind eye to daily, even hourly, douche baggery because you want to keep yours is simply inexcusable...or it should be.

But I'm not going to use this moment to talk about them at length, this was context. Because I think the world needs another Dr King. Desperately so. Someone with the moral conviction and fortitude to stand up not only for the people with the same skin colour but for all that equality has forsaken. Someone to rally behind as a unifier and peace maker. Resolutely preaching love and justice.

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. 

Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."

Millions upon millions of people around the world feel the same way, but we lack a focal point, a sacrificial lamb if you will, that can actually rally the world to address the issues that really should be the ones that matter. Social injustice in all its forms - poverty, discrimination, abuse of power, blind greed, racism, sexism....and the list sadly goes on. 

There will be opposition of course. People don't like change and they, if they live in comfort, do not want to lose what they have. And the all mighty dollar will be there to ensure that progress is doled out as it sees fit, through ignorance or through malice, ensuring that the status quo remains. Worse still are the sheep of the world...those unquestioning followers that eagerly eat up the pablum spewed out by the powers that be in the incredible belief that they will, somehow, benefit from the table scraps.

“There is nothing more dangerous in all the world than 

sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.”

And as if by design, Pride by U2 has just begun to play on the radio. An anthem to MLK himself and to the ideals he stood for. I think that they stand as important today as they did 40 plus years ago. With Bono's soaring vocals and Edge's ringing guitar as medium, the message is simple....love!

The work of people like Dr King will never actually end, there will always be injustice to fight, but it seems to me we have gone backwards this past year. Drumph and his ilk have changed the equation to allow for the hatred to be spread openly. What was once reserved for the dark corners is now front and centre, marching with tiki torches and khaki pants, emboldened by that idiot into believing that they have a god given right to be number one and to Make America White Again.

Dr King had a dream. As a father, as a man, as a human sharing this place today...I hope for it as well.

"I have a dream that my four little children will one day 

live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, 

but by the content of their character."

Read the entire text of his moving speech at The March on Washington here I Have a Dream

Ciao
D

Deconstructing Creativity

Thinking of the notion choices, ones we make and the ones that are made for us, either by design or by happenstance. Then the idea around what those choices could have been. I chose to walk to work instead of taking the bus...what did I miss? Which led me to the Robert Frost poem "The Road Not Taken." Now, I don't remember reading this in high school or any other school for that matter, which doesn't mean I wasn't supposed to...I just don't recall reading it. Either it didn't stick with me or I simply did with this the same as I did with other things I was "supposed" to do...ignored it and winged my way through. Told you I had an issue with authority.

I ended up on YouTube listening to someone read the poem, and as I am wont to do while listening to something I scroll through the comments to see what people were saying. One comment that made me stop and ponder went something along the lines that this narration gave a whole new meaning to the poem for the listener. The pauses and inflections gave this fellow some new insights, a better appreciation. Another person had written that they remembered studying this poem in school and resenting it because they felt forced to study it. They didn't appreciate the work because they had to study it...had to.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference

I wonder if maybe the education system, and by extension society, do a good job of killing creativity. Learn the meter, learn the words...memorize the words and study the history of the author. What of the meaning? And not the meaning that the system wants you to know. Knowing that is fine, but maybe what is more important is knowing what it means to you. What does that poem, song or painting mean to you? How does it move you?

The other day walking through the store I saw a young couple dragging their little son behind them, looking entirely unimpressed with his choice of parents at the moment. When the little tykes hand was released he wandered off looking at something or other and a smile crossed his face...he was free. He had a moment of wide-eyed exaltation. And his experience ended abruptly with dad grabbing him looking towards the shampoo aisle. That, in a nutshell, is society and creativity.

I'm not for a moment saying that the kid should be free to run amok, I have three kids and I know well enough the trouble they can get into. What I am saying is that I think we need to do more to encourage free thought and play and creativity. In all things and for all people. Work to live or live to work?

"There is a connection, hard to explain logically but easy to feel, 

between achievement in public life and progress in the arts. 

The age of Pericles was also the age of Phidias. 

The age of Lorenzo de Medici was also the age of Leonardo da Vinci, 

The age of Elizabeth also the age of Shakespeare, 

and the new frontier for which I campaign in public life, 

can also be a new frontier for American art."

JFK

I am often in awe of the artistry that I see all around me. It means something to me and I hope that more of us can see more of it. There is beauty, there are answers and there is simply the appreciation of the passion that is there for the grasping.

Photo courtesy of my very creative friend, Margo

Reverb

A close friend of mine texted me the other day to let me know that she, while working out, had lost her groove when an ABBA song came on. She of course professes to hate ABBA but I don't believe her...I think she is a closet ABBA super fan actually. According to her, immediately after losing said groove she thought of me. Not because I am a dancing queen or anything silly like that, but because I, through a few years of constant effort have inserted myself into her brain, with an almost Pavlovian response, ABBA equals Cheffie (that's me).

I would regularly send her YouTube clips of ABBA. I would call her up and whether she answered or her messaging kicked in, I would hold my phone to the radio when an ABBA song came on, giggling in the background because I'm funny that way. I think she protests not because she finds the Swedish super group offensive but because she is probably forced to hold back from dancing and singing at the time. I get that, my advice to you my friend...belt it out, it's good for the soul.

I smiled a lot when I got that message from her and it got me to thinking of reverberations. Which led me to remember reading Mitch Abloom's The Five People You Meet in Heaven. According to the writer it's not necessarily who you think or even hope for when you make that journey and come face to face with your eternal companions. In this case a few of the people were unknown to the protagonist as I recall...and there in lies the moral, we never really know how we are affected by the daily run ins in our lives. Nor how we may be affecting others that cross our paths.

Certainly it is easy to see and, to a certain extent, even measure how I affect my kids and they I. Or my friend with the ABBA phobia. She will forever equate them with me. Does she know that I think of her when I am, on those very rare occasions, feeling negative about whatever? Maybe she even remembers kicking my ass in her office years ago when I was being a dickhead negative Nellie...laying into me in the way only a true friend would. She knows now I suppose. We have that kind of relationship, from ass kicking to ABBA, our continuing effect on each other will resonate on for years to come.

But what of the ones we don't know about. Something we may not even know we did or said may very well be part of someones very existence to this day. How do we know? Conversely how do we know if anything has affected us. Obviously many things have, how could they not? But we don't really know all of it do we?

I like to think that the important thing here is that we do try and be more aware of the here and now when something does happen. Today marks four years since the passing of Scott's son Simon, and while I can never even fathom the pain the memory and loss must cause I can take a tiny bit of comfort in the knowledge that I learned a lot from this time as a friend to the family. I saw grace and humour carry broken hearts through the days and months that followed. I saw how strong people can be when they have to be because they have no choice. I saw love.

Take a moment to think about things that are truly significant. Don't let the imperative drown out the important. And listen to those echoes, those resonant vibrations through our lives...they matter. Trust me...the world will be a better place for us all.

Ciao
D

Photo courtesy of my friend Margo

Risk

Out in the greater world of socioeconomic policies and procedures there is what is known as disaster risk reduction. A concept or theory, that I can imagine was probably funded by the insurance companies, that revolves around essentially mitigating the effects of disaster. Build better structures to withstand earthquakes, early warning systems for tornadoes, dikes to keep the oceans out of our basements...and so on. A worthy cause I am sure as the effects of natural disaster can be, as we have witnessed too many times, catastrophic.

There are also those involved in this that think that too much protection isn't always a good thing. This may seem counter intuitive, why wouldn't you want to ensure as much protection as humanly possible to protect life and property after all. I tend to agree, as most would I think, but maybe you haven't heard of the paradox of flood control. Don't worry, I didn't until two minutes ago as I was bandying around Google looking for an one thing and coming across another.

As I understand it, while building channels, dikes, damns and flood-ways to help lessen the effects of flooding we also increase the chances of a catastrophic event because of those efforts. The unintended consequences of better preparing for regular high tides and annual frost melting is that we run the risk of doing more harm than one could imagine. Changing the nature of nature runs risks, on that we can all agree, so it stands to reason that if you build a damn to hold back water for whatever reason...when that water finally decides to go where it wants, well...make sure you have your rubber boots close by. In essence, the greater the protection the greater the chance for disaster. Interesting.

The same could be said of the precautions we all take to protect us from matters of the heart. Yeah...I tied disaster risk management to love. Deal with it. But I'm not wrong.

Those walls that we all have of varying degrees, help us but maybe they also hinder us. In an effort to not get clobbered by feelings, to not feel like the meat grinder of our lives are getting the better of us, we have constructed channels, dikes, damns and flood-ways to help lessen the effects of emotion, of love. Speaking strictly for myself, as everyone has their own way of dealing with all that life has to offer, I think flooding can be a good thing. Others think so as well, since we have seen a greater understanding of ecosystems and the advent of controlled forest fires and floods. There are benefits from the replenishment that comes from an event the same as there can be benefits to opening our hearts up to the possibility of disaster.

"And if I've built this fortress around your heart,

Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire,

Then let me build a bridge, for I cannot fill the chasm,

And let me set the battlements on fire."

Maybe, like Sting sings, we can't fill the whole void of what we have built or had built for us, but we can start with a bridge. So much possibility exists out in that great big world of ours that we can use all the bridges for our betterment and benefit. Break those chains, tear down those walls, let loose the flood, insert whatever metaphor you want here but do try, it's the journey that matters after all.

Remember your Tolkien

"Not all those who wander are lost"

Ciao
D

Photo courtesy of my friend Margo

Sugar Mice

One of the things that I am most proud of, in my work world at least, is what was accomplished by my ex and I when we opened our B & B in Lunenburg back in 1996. An arduous journey that cobbled together amazing support from family, a lot of hard work and a healthy dose of the Greater Fool theory...a wing and a prayer in the belief that if you build they will come.

I'd like to tell you that is was all sunshine and roses but it wasn't. It was hard work and incredibly stressful to all involved but I don't regret it for a moment, as it was also a rewarding experience with lessons learned, friendships forged and a spit in the eye resilience that fit in with my character at the time.

The entire scenario was almost other worldly. The long story, made slightly shorter, is that we had latched on to the idea of running our own place. Either through osmosis or inspiration we realized that we had skills that would make for a pretty good business partnership. And it was to be honest. We were, at the time, the youngest innkeepers in the province and we had garnered quite a bit of attention with the renovations, the subsequent battle with the town over opening a restaurant within the inn and our finished offering. We opened in June of 1996 after a just over a year of planning and construction...after we had bought the building essentially on a whim the previous April. Crazy eh?

Fast forward to the fall of that year, the tourists are gone and reality sets in...bills to pay and no steady money coming in. We had our first child, born in March earlier that year and my parents living with us. I made one of the hardest decisions I had to make by leaving for Toronto to work over the winter to keep the lights on. It's nothing that any other responsible adult would do, so I don't feel like I did anything extraordinary but it wasn't easy. Walking away from my young family for a few months was hard on many fronts.

The idea was to find a job ASAP and keep the cash flow flowing. I stayed with in-laws and quickly found a job as chef at a place that could have been renamed Chef Loses his Noodle. A crazy ass place that offered the patrons the ability to create their own pastas. As a guest, great idea...as a chef running the show....what the fuck were you morons thinking??? Well, this new found reality was my life for the next few months. Not at all a happy time for me. I missed my family, especially my daughter. A lot. 

The winter trudged along and as my birthday neared I was not feeling particularly joyous. I'm not a big birthday milestone kind of guy to start with but I do have certain things that I like to have around me and my family would be at the top of the list. I remember two phone calls around that time. One, on my birthday, where my ex didn't realize it was my birthday. It felt quite good to be forgotten in this way. I'm sure it simply slipped her mind or she didn't realize the day, and I get that, but it doesn't change the empty feeling one has. A couple of days later, a little piece of my heart was ripped from my chest when my daughter was put near the phone to hear daddy's voice...her cute gurgles and happy sounding laugh led me to be grateful that I was in the lower level of the restaurant with no one around to see me. I'm sure you can figure out the look on my face. Back then I wore army boots and could, when needed, look pretty imposing....except for right then of course.

This moment in my life is what I always think of when I hear the song Sugar Mice by Marillion...

"Well the toughest thing that I ever did was talk to the kids on the phone...

...So if you want my address it's number one at the end of the bar

Where I sit with the broken angels

Clutchin' at straws and nursin' our scars

Blame it on me, blame it on me

Sugar mice in the rain"

I felt lost. Like I was not whole. Like sugar mice in the rain, I was fading, a mere shadow of what I thought I was. I was missing a part of my daughters life and I didn't like it. I was missing her. The better parts of me were 2000 km away while I trudged around cursing the weather, the Greek guy that owned the restaurant and the "consultant" that came up with the idea for chef loses his noodle...dumb fucker. Mostly though I was cursing the separation.

The plan was to stay until spring and be back to re-open the place in May. When we realized that we were getting a rather large tax refund I was home by mid March. Hightailed it out of there as fast as humanly possible and was literally towed back into Lunenburg as my car had broken down near Halifax, but I was back where I belonged. 

I leave you with this snippet from a poem by Pablo Neruda that, for me, speaks to those feelings that I couldn't articulate all those years ago. 

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”

And now, years later from this time, the kids are one by one spreading their wings. The next five years will bring much change and it's natural to be pensive about it all. Will they be happy, healthy and successful in their choices? I've done what I could do and now I'm here for moral support and a touch of hilarity to lighten the world a bit. Lessons learned, the hard way most often since that is really the only we're truly going to learn anything, and lessons passed along. In the end, the message is simple...

"Don't worry about a thing

'Cause every little thing gonna be alright

Singing' don't worry about a thing

'Cause every little thing gonna be alright"

Cioa

D

Strange and Beautiful

It seems like everday I am struck by the magic that is around us all if we simply choose to listen or to see or to feel. I really do feel, very strongly actually, that the answers to everything are already out there for us. They have been spoken, sung and painted by people that have been inspired to release to us all the "confines of their hearts."

I was re- reading a little blog post that someone had written on the death of Gord Downie and the lyrics to Bobcaygen were front and centre.

"I saw the constellations
Reveal themselves, one star at time"

The gift to be able to turn an elegant phrase in that way is pure inspiration for me. It feeds the mind and the soul. It opens the door to so much more. And as is often the case, a few clicks later I am listening to Blue Rodeo...

"Strange and beautiful

Are the stars tonight"

Whatever we may be looking for, the answers to the questions we have, the love that we seek...it's there for the taking. Maybe I'm a dreamer or a romantic fool, certainly a fool to be true.

"And I want all the world to know

That your love's all I need

All that I need

And if we're lost

Then we are lost together

Yea if we're lost

Then we are lost together"

To quote fictional President Bartlett...

"Words, when spoken out loud for the sake of performance, are music. They have rhythm, and pitch, and timbre, and volume. These are the properties of music, and music has the ability to find us and move us, and lift us up in ways that literal meanings can't. Do you see?"

That last part, to me, is the crux of it all...to find us and move us, and lift us up in ways that literal meanings can't. Be it an elegant turn of a phrase or music that simply transports us to the beyond. Listen to a great version of O Holy Night and tell me that you're not moved in some way when the music and lyrics take you through the divine night. You don't need to be a believer to feel this...you just need to be open to it.

What becomes even more magical is when you can share that moment, that feeling with others. Witness the wonder of concert going in all its forms. U2 this past summer was one such moment, me and 55,000 new friends swaying and belting out tunes, young and old sharing a moment in time with a soundtrack that delivered. Lennie Gallant at the Chester Playhouse, small and intimate and oh so good. And then this...the other night, spinning some vinyl and sipping wine after an agreeable meal with a dear friend. Things I love all coming together for a wonderful time; the crackling of 35 year old records, listening to gems that are like finding lost love again...you let yourself forget how good something is, but you found it again. Love is rekindled. The joy in sharing a meal and sharing time, letting the music be our companion for the night. There isn't much better. And more of it, lots more, would be what we should all strive for.

Set off on that long walk, the music of your life carrying you on lofty wings...paint a picture and set it to music. Have hope, have love, have belief in you. The reasons we live out loud for are personal and many, the important thing to remember is to do it.

Be strange, be beautiful.

Happy New Year!!

Ciao
D