It poured on Interstate 75 yesterday, while we meandered our way from Atlanta, GA to Nashville, TN. The day started out funky, as I found myself overcome with emotion at the sight of my cousin’s wife waving at us from their front porch on our departure. Honey, the dog, lay faithfully at her feet. I didn’t want to leave.

The last time I’d experienced my Georgia based family’s hospitality, I’d had an entirely different life. At that point I’d had permanent residency status and an apartment in Dallas. Now I’m a US citizen living in Ottawa. Of course, there’s a very good chance that my current home is in the right geographical location for what I need right now, but yesterday morning I wanted to curl up on that soggy Georgia soil, grab the lush green grass with both hands, and hold on for dear life. The thought crossed my mind, as it tends to do with all of us at some point, ‘Have I made the right decisions?’

That question was also spurred by a great conversation we’d had the night before about the pros and cons of a carefree path versus a stable/secure pension driven one. Arguments were valid on both sides, but I stuck with my opinion that doing something passionless for years on end – for me – is more painful than the fear associated with uncertainty. Still, in the midst of my Atlanta departure, I questioned my risk taking strategy. That was until …

About midday, our northbound lanes slowed to an alternating crawl/stop/crawl pattern, a row of red tail lights stretched out before us, and police sirens screamed past on the shoulder to converge in a sea of blue and red flashing lights. We eventually approached the accident scene and discovered what begged to be looked at. Folks in vehicles around us collectively dropped their jaws and put hands over their mouths while they stared.

Two or three transports and several vehicles had converged into one big mess of metal, and one car in particular had been jammed completely underneath one of the transports – the entire top of the vehicle completely flattened. There’s no way anyone in that car survived, and you could almost feel souls hovering above us in a state of shock.

A solemn reminder, a heart wrenching reality, and validation that if I had been in that vehicle, I’d have been grateful that I’d done just what I’m doing right now. It could be over for any of us that quickly, and it could happen with or without regrets. The choice is ours.

My prayers go out to the families of those who reached the end of their journey yesterday. Do me a favor, and hug someone you love today in their honor.

Day two on the road is about to start. We made it to Wilkes-Barre, PA last night, and I’m thrilled to be back on US soil. For those of you who aren’t aware, I lived in the states for 14 years, and I have citizenship. I consider myself to be as much American as I do Canadian, and I am happy to be home. I love this country, and I love the people. I’ve missed everything about it/them.

My Internet access is somewhat limited, but Starbucks is a regular stop where we can take care of business. We’re sitting at tables across from each other right now blogging. My typing and sipping are accompanied by the pondering of how many people have inspired me since I’ve opened myself up to their lessons. I have decided that I will occasionally put some of their stories on here, because the world needs more inspiration. I mean, if I’m seeking out every available reinforcement that anything’s possible, why not share that evidence with you, right?

Today my thoughts are with my friend Nick Brindisi. Nick and I went to high school together and are the same age, and as I won’t mention what that age actually is, we’re far from being teenagers. Nick is doing an amazing thing today. He’s running 100 km to raise money for our hometown hospital in Collingwood, ON.

I think this is phenomenal. I mean, it’s incredible! Who does that? And, how? He estimates that it will take him about 11 hours to complete. I think I’m doing well when I can run for 30 minutes! He’s got the van from the local radio station following him, and his wife’s inside manning the hydration station, but I wanted to share this story, because it gives me goose bumps.

There are seemingly ordinary people out there everyday who are doing extraordinary things. As Regan and I continue our road trip today, I’ll be rooting for Nick and tuning into The Peak FM through my laptop to get updates when possible.

Don’t ever think that something’s undoable. The only way it’s not is if you don’t make any effort. It ultimately comes down to being your choice.

Now, it’s back into the motorhome for me where I’ll be covering 100 km with my feet on the dashboard.  Three cheers for Nick. You inspire me.

Cut and paste the following link for more on Nick’s undertaking:

http://www.simcoe.com/community/collingwood/article/1501551

There just comes a point where you have to jump onboard. I have sat back for a couple of years and watched a few medical friends of mine on Facebook make regular jaunts to Haiti to volunteer. I’ve looked at the pictures, read the posts, and thought, ‘Geez, I really should do that myself someday.’ Well, in keeping with my new found belief that “shoulds” don’t take care of themselves, I’m going. I’m joining the team, and our flight leaves Nashville on October 4th. It’s a week, and one that I fully expect will change my perspective on – well – just about everything.

I’m going for a few reasons. The first should be quite obvious. People need help. A lot of help. I can only sit by in my comfortable little corner and change the channel on them so often.

Another reason why I’m going is because I need a swift kick in the comp-ASS-ion. Aside from my new found love for writing, I’m an RN by trade, and I have worked in the US and Canada for over 20 years – mostly in critical care. It’s a tough gig, and although we don’t talk about it, or most people prefer not to hear it, there’s a large incidence of secondary post-traumatic stress disorder in this profession – “secondary” in that we observe the primary trauma of others over and over again for years on end. It leads to compassion fatigue. I suffer from it  – I know I do – I want to fix that. It’s time to open my heart up again.

I also want to get a more global feel for the human experience. We have it pretty damned good here in North America – admit it. So good, in fact, that we tend to take it for granted. I actually had someone say to me the other day that “The government really should provide some kind of babysitting service for people who have to go to the doctor and don’t have anyone available to watch their kids.” Just one example of the many ongoing incentives I have to appreciate how lucky I am to live here.

So, why not help those that are close to home? Why travel to a high risk area to look after perfect strangers? The world’s a small place, and these folks are our neighbors. I’ve contributed to the community in my own backyard for years; now it’s time to cross the street. I want to give love, spread love, and feel love – the genuine kind. The real humanity based version. Regardless of what I find, I’m showing up.

There will be some fun on this trip as well. I’m really lucky to have a good friend of mine from Canada joining me in Haiti; a good friend who’s on a really cool journey of his own. Regan will be traveling across the US and Canada over the next year in a motor home on a mission to make a thousand friends. I’ll let you read all about it on his website, but I’m blessed to get to travel down to Nashville on the first leg of the journey and have him bring me back home again after Haiti. Cut and paste his website into your browser for more on this cool adventure:

www.Make1000friends.com

Stay tuned. I’ll be giving blog updates when I can, both about the motor home trip and Haiti, and I’ll share what pictures I manage to take. Now, I must go and pack…

Please note that all of the Haiti pictures in this blog were taken by Tara Johnson who is an RN that has made the trip with the team herself. I consider her a friend, and a great photographer. Thank-you, Tara.

 

 

There’s a funny thing that happens with the birth of a new you. I call it “the shift,” which for me is like shedding old skin. It’s an odd feeling, really, that’s not related to seemingly big stuff like changing your address or starting a new relationship. No, this is a sense of no turning back – literally like things will never be the same again. It hasn’t happened often for me, maybe twice, but it’s here again now, and I’m marveled by it. Those of you who know me well know that my life changes as often as Vanna White’s wardrobe, but “the shift” is a different thing entirely.

The infrequency of this occurrence causes recognition to be slow at best, but the pattern eventually makes itself clear. There’s the initial unsteadiness that starts it all off, like a dog sensing an earthquake about to happen. This is followed by a flux of emotion and an odd, but cathartic, mourning period. It was after a good cry last night – about everything and nothing in particular – that I finally absorbed the familiarity of it all.

A few big defining events are about to unfold in my life, which I’ll be sharing in subsequent blogs, and each one of them is going to transform who I’ve been in recent years. It’s an inner knowing that I have about this, and I’m slowly starting to get excited; excitement being the next phase in the pattern (after the mourning).

I’ve never been much of a “mourning” person, so this part’s a challenge for me. I like who I’ve been. It took a lot of time, energy, self-abuse, and plenty of love to get me to this point, and letting go makes me sorrowful. I’ll miss the me I’ve known, very much.

So, it’s with a somewhat heavy heart that I turn my gaze in a new direction and await that oncoming train. Once I’m on it, it’s full steam ahead to what awaits and the shaping of a new incarnation. It’s hard to know what’s down the track, but I can guarantee it won’t be boring. I do hope you’ll all come along for the ride.

 

I finally met one of them. You know those guys who build Inukshuks (pronounced In-ook-shook)? They’re random natural sculptures made out of stacked rocks that originated in the Arctic regions of North America. Some, of course, are commissioned and on a large scale (like the one below), but there are endless Inukshuks that just appear out of nowhere. They come in various shapes and sizes and are seen along coast lines, on the sides of roads, along mountain trails, you name it. On more than one occasion, I’ve found myself pondering the question, ‘Who’s making these things?’

I just love them. Maybe because they’re actual guideposts, and I’m all over that. The word Inuckshuk apparently translates to, “In the likeness of a human,” and they were the brainchild of the Inuit. Their traditional meaning is something akin to “Someone’s been here,” or “You’re going in the right direction.”

So, on a recent hike near Wakefield, Quebec, and completely by chance, my friend and I crossed paths with an Inuckshuk creator. With the patience of Job, this man builds a variety of these things along the trail that are stunningly beautiful, and he does it on a persistently consistent basis, because someone else has just as powerful an urge to knock them all down. Why is anyone’s guess, but this guy just keeps going out into the woods to rebuild them. I love that! It rocks (pun intended).

And what a great life lesson. Design your own personal mission to create some kind of guidepost for others to help them along their journey, and keep rebuilding if someone tries to knock it down. Just take one stone at a time, choose the pieces that fit together the best, and keep on stackin’. We can all be a source of creativity that inspires. We can each be the one that doesn’t give up.

 

I’m a bit of a fan of mistakes, which may explain why I’ve never stopped making them. There are so many benefits to screwing up, that I just can’t help myself. You don’t even have to be a risk taker to rack them up; you just have to be human. But I do know that the only way to avoid them altogether is to lock yourself away from the world and never interact.

And why are we so damned afraid of mistakes? It’s not like our lives will be snuffed out if we make one – well, in most cases anyway. Unless I’m wrong, it’s the dreaded “what if”s that get to us. Those pesky imaginary scenarios that keep us awake at night and leave us unable to take a chance. A couple of the more popular ones, of course, are: “What if people talk?” “What if they think I’m crazy?” Who cares. Give them something to talk about, I say. The only “what if” that really needs answering is, “What if it doesn’t work out?” Answer being? “I’ll pick up the pieces and try something else.” End of story. It’s that simple.

Making mistakes for me is a process of elimination game. I’ve narrowed down what I want out of life by making mistakes, and some of them were doozies. I wasn’t always sure about what I wanted, but my mistakes have sure made me clear on what I didn’t. When faced with the same situation again, we always know which way to turn if we’ve made that particular mistake in the past.

So, come out from behind the fence, feel the fear if you need to, and trudge forward. If it doesn’t work out, tuck the lesson into a safe place and leave the mistake behind, but always, always be grateful that you had the chance to make it.

I am of the opinion that “networking” gets a bad rap. Of course, the word itself has gained more attention in recent years due to the online social variety, but I’m talking about rubbing elbows; hobnobbing; schmoozing.

You know the old expression, “It’s all in who you know?” Well, that’s basically true, but why does that have to have such a negative connotation? It may imply that knowing someone forfeits the chances of others to achieve based solely on hard work, but think about the benefactor here. Wouldn’t you rather give to, hire, sponsor, or mentor someone you’re familiar with versus putting your faith in a perfect stranger? I know I would.

The key to networking is to be reciprocal when you receive and to be generous when you don’t. Networking purely for the sake of personal gain is obnoxious, but done in the right context, it’s a win-win for everybody. So, be yourself, show some interest, and get to know people with the intent of bettering their lives, not just your own. And they don’t all have to become “lay down my life for you” friendships either (we reserve a handful of those in our lives if we’re lucky). They just have to be good people, and there are a lot of them out there.

I yammer on about this to introduce the concept of helping others stoke the flame. I’ve recently contacted a group of talented friends of mine who take great photos, and smatterings of their work are going to appear in future blog posts. I like blogs with pictures in them, and I genuinely like the folks whose work I’ll be sharing, so keep an eye out for mesmerizing magic from the likes of: David Cole, Torrey Cook-Pless, David Pless, Roma Assaff, Tara Johnson, and D’Arcy Evans (visit his website at: http://darcyevans.com/links.htm ) to name a few. Oh, and if anyone else has pictures/artwork they’d like to see on here, please message me through the “contact” link on this website. If they suit my fancy, and are in context with a future blog topic, I’ll be happy to share them and give you full credit as I have with the ever talented Helene Anne Fortin’s portrait pic on my homepage.

So, pull up a chair, say hello to someone, and make an effort to foster their creativity. It takes nothing from us to support the dreams and talents of others. In fact, it gives back in abundance.

 

1.)    I’m not sure that worrying is ever worth the effort

2.)    I’m not sure that making mistakes is such a bad thing

3.)    I’m really not sure that we’re spreading our wings to their maximum capability

4.)    I’m not sure that following the rules leaves much room for creativity

5.)    I’m not sure if anyone’s bumper sticker ever changed the opinion of someone else

6.)    I’m not sure that we’re celebrating the right people

7.)    I’m not sure that a saddened soul doesn’t create a sickened body

8.)    I’m not sure if following your head instead of your heart is strategically sound

9.)    I’m not sure that we meet anyone by accident

10.)  I’m not sure that I’ll ever tire of pondering the big questions

…and felt like sharing:

1.)  Self is our most reliable ally

2.)  Following our passions is the only way to sustain lasting joy

3.)  Broken hearts mend

 

4.) Creativity expresses itself

5.)  Kids laughing is the all-time best music ever

6.)  True friendship survives distance, time, and circumstance

7.)  If we don’t spend quiet time alone, someone else will do our thinking for us

8.)  Comparing ourselves to anyone else is an absurd and destructive exercise

9.)  Trees are giant bouquets of greenery, and, yes, hugging them makes us feel connected

 

10.) Gratitude is the best catalyst for abundance

Stay tuned for the ten things I’m not so sure about.  Oh, and please share some of the things you know for sure. Would love to hear from you.

 

Ah, yes. One of the greatest challenges we face, and one of the richest opportunities for growth.

I’ve been hearing a lot about various forms of rejection lately from friends and family members, and I’m sure it’s no surprise to any of us that we put far too much stock in the opinions of others. If we take stock at all, it should be kept to a minimum and only accepted from people who have genuine interest in our wellbeing.

The opinions or tastes of others – in regards to who we are – aren’t worth crap. Really, I could end my rant with that simple point and be done with it, but you know that’s not going to happen.

I can honestly say, in hindsight, that every time I’ve experienced rejection, it’s turned out to be a positive in the end. That includes jobs, relationships, contest losses, you name it. If we’re not right for them, then they’re not right for us. It’s when we try and force an issue, and become what we’re not to please others, that true opportunities elude us.

If you are experiencing a form of rejection right now, and feeling unworthy because of it, that’s your ego talking. Tell it to shut up. Don’t change for anything or anybody – ever. It’s simply the wrong place for you right now – bottom line.

I actually have an exercise that really works for me. Try this:

When you’re feeling rejected, think of one special person in your life who truly loves you for who you are. I mean the real you – the deep down inside you. Now, close your eyes and see yourself through theirs. If you’re not smiling, pick someone else.

We’re all worthy, so break away from anything that makes you feel otherwise. Signal the universe to send only those people and situations that support your authentic self. The more we fault ourselves for the non-acceptance of others, the more that false reality is perpetuated. Just turn your head, look in a new direction, and move on.