Stop the Presses

Photo credit: Theresa Brown

He wrote every day, religiously recounting his Arctic adventures, doing his best to recall details; to paint the colour and details in the story. And then he asked me to edit it. That was months ago. I would pick it up, peel through twenty or thirty pages, smoothing out the kinks, preserving the voice, removing random spaces and punctuation - and then weeks would pass. I had a myriad of excuses when he would tentatively ask me "how is the book coming along?". I was busy; work was crazy; I was travelling; I was tired at the end of the day; "I was working on it". But the truth was  - I felt terrible. I could see the sense of urgency he had about getting his book completed, so he could share. And I was holding him up.

So I put this little project of ours at the top of the list, and got it done. It's not perfect. There are some random font changes and a few typos. But the story he put to paper is all his - imperfect and real. And over the past months (maybe even years) that we have spent discussing and collaborating on his project, we have spent precious tine and shared special moments together.

The excited email that I got from him telling me how happy he was with the books, and his note of heartfelt gratitude -- priceless. And for all of that and more, I am truly grateful.

My dad is a prolific blogger. Check out his blog to read more of his adventures and musings: Peering Through a Porthole

I Got the Message

There are times in your life when you find yourself at crossroads or mired in strife or stress. It is tempting to slip into self pity or flirt with defeat. After all, it's not your fault that you've become the object of difficult times. It's easy to forget our power, who we are and surrender control.

And then there are times when the message you need most to hear (or read) lands right in your lap. My mom used to tell us that there are no accidents; and last week as I was running out the door to catch my flight to the Arctic, I grabbed a book from my "need to read" pile. It was Power, Freedom and Grace by Deepak Chopra. The first sentence of the first chapter read "There is a reason you were drawn to this book". And it was absolutely true.

I delved into the pages slurping up every concept and devouring the message that I was sure was meant just for me. It was good medicine and took me back to a period in my life in which -although more hectic and challenging - I seemed to float above the noise and lived more fully in the moment. I felt more connected to my source and attracted more goodness that I felt I deserved.

I was reminded that I need to provide space and stillness to hear that which comes from the deepest part of myself, to reclaim the power and control that is mine, to remember who I am and that I am capable of anything and everything. Everything I need is within me. I am creative. I am love. I am complete.

I trust that my life is unfolding as it should, and that every challenge is a test of my faith and an opportunity to evolve to my highest self. I got the message. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

Good Read

Kidlet is playing her final provincial championship hockey games this weekend. The weather chimed in to create an appropriate environment by dropping the temp to just 2 degrees Celsius and throwing in some blustery winds for good measure.

Arena time involves lots of pre-game waiting - sitting - drinking hot drinks. I grabbed a book from my "must read" pile as I headed out this morning to help fill the down time. My random reading pick ended up being Give a Little, How our small donations can transform our world, by Wendy Smith - and I can't put it down! It describes the cumulative power of the affordable donations made by everyday citizens and how they can change the world. The author suggests ways to choose charities and non profits that will help your donation dollar have the greatest impact possible. I was happy to see some of my favourite causes and agencies listed.

The book reads somewhat like a textbook with its source citations and charts but I found myself hungrily devouring every page and factoid. I feel as though  I am getting clarity around purpose and giving back. Most of all, I found inspiration between the pages - inspiration to dig deeper; give more consicously. I can feel the winds of growth blowing gently on my neck and my heart quickens at the excitement of it all. Life is good - and if you allow it to be - an incredible journey of self actualization.

Life is not in having and getting,
but in being and becoming.
- Matthew Arnold

Note: Off to bed. We are due at the arena by 6:30 tomorrow morning. Good thing I am a morning person. Now only if Kidlet was ...

Reading Vacay

I fed my guilty pleasure this weekend. I squeezed in hours of reading, not for business or self help, but purely for the pleasure of it. It's been a long while since I've given myself such a gift - probably since my last vacation - or plane ride.

A Thousand Splendid Suns is finished. It rests on the coffee table while I allow the story to sink in; while I silently bid farewell to the heroic characters that were alive to me, and who I grew so very attached to ...

At the risk of turning into a book review, I sing this book's praises (maybe I should just murmur its praises -- I can't even carry a tune). It was written by Khaled Hosseini, the author of The Kite Runner; both books were set in Afganistan. A Thousand Spendid Suns is a delicious epic about love, friendship, oppression, war, family and life in Afghanistan, told through the lives of two women. I shed a tear or two while devouring this book - and devour it I did. When I find a novel I thoroughly enjoy, I immerse myself in it, preferring to plough through it  - rereading favourite sections - in one or two sittings. After gluttonously consuming chapter after chapter, losing myself in the sheer pleasure of it all - panic starts to creep in .... I don't want the story to end. It's a contradiction to be sure.

Nothing relaxes me more than reading; my body is still and quiet while my mind is involved in another reality. So maybe that is the reason that I am ending this weekend on such a contented, laid back note.

So many many books - so little time. I just decided that I am going to indulge myself a lot more often.  And that is a promise.

Books - Shelved

Finally! My books have a home. After months and even years of having my precious books scattered about the house in random bookcases and stacked in piles in every room in the house, we finally bought a couple of bookcases and set them up in the living room. I spent the evening gleefully rounding them all up - laundry baskets full of books- and then organizing them with tender loving care. It was hard not to get sidetracked - flipping through pages, reading dust jackets and the random notes and envelopes I apparently stow between the pages. Hidden treasures. When I was a kid I had a habit of pressing 1 and 2 dollar bills in my books and I suppose old habits die hard.

I can't express the delight and enjoyment I felt tonight, surrounded by the books I love. I envision many hours spent getting reacquainted with old friends - and some new ones.

Now - nicely organized.

Books + Journals + Time = Contentment

I started out looking for the book I am reading ... excavating the bookcase in my bedroom, uncovering lost treasures. Misplaced earrings; my infant immunization record (funny what we use as bookmarks!); loose photos holding frozen moments; even an envelope with my baby hair enclosed. I let myself go ... losing myself in the dust, memories and thoughts - and the other stack of books under my night table (thus the dust!).

I found an old friend -- my gratitude journal. I flipped through the pages randomly at first, grazing the handwritten pages lightly - a starter before deciding on an entree -- I turned back to the first page and devoured each entry. I recognise the handwriting but the words belong to someone else. Intriguing. Each page was laden with riches to be grateful for: my clean, soft sheets; the invitations to cuddle with (9 yr old) Kidlet; the smiles of my daughters; the hot cup of tea that follows dinner .... it went on and on ... My last entry was February 11, 2006.

I started out looking for the book I am reading ... and I found a better one - a book of countless reasons to be grateful. I was gently guided and reminded and now I will add many new entries. I just love nights like this, tranquil and peaceful. And for that, I am truly grateful.

Books are Back

I have loved books as long as I can remember and this Christmas, I received a record 9 books as gifts. Each one is a variation on a theme near and dear to me. More importantly - they show me that the people close to me really know me.

~ G R A T I T U D E ~

One of my most favourite was the new Annie Leibovitz book, filled with stories behind her pictures and the people she has photograghed. I have only have a few minutes to scan the pages but I can't wait to dive into it. I have my new collection neatly stacked on my desk -- my very own literary feast just waiting to be devoured. If I could I would barracade myself in a cosy little cave and read for a week. I may need a reading vacation!

~ C O N T E N T M E N T ~

Of course this all has reinforced my desire for a library .... and if you can believe it - as I write this blog entry, there is a design makeover TV show on. Subject: home libraries.

Synchronicity at its best. Universe is telling me I need a library. Is anyone listening? : )

Amyway - books are back - to stay!

~ H A P P I N E S S ~

Book Worm

One of my most favourite things to do is read. It's been that way as long as I can remember. Since pledging to read my way - systematically - through my parents' extensive book shelf at the age of 8, books have been my friends, passion and stimulants. I was the kid who played librarian, had a book repair kit, spent all of my extra money buying books, and over the years, amassed a huge collection.

I lovingly saved all of my childhood favourites for my own future children - none of who were terribly interested in the old, musty volumes - most of which were not illustrated. My family and friends fed my passion by begifting me the latest and greatest from my favourites authors. Eventually I began to run out of space to display and store these treasures. The day came when I had to decide exactly what were the timeless treasures (keepers) and what were just " good reads". My " Hand of God" bookshelf was borne.

Funny enough, I am not religious, however I am deeply spiritual. I have extensive collections of my favourite genres - auto/biographies - as well inspirational writings from Og Mandino, Richard Bach, Leo Buscalgia, Norman Vincent Peale, Ghandi, and a host of other wonderful writers. I place these treasures in a dedicated bookshelf that also holds my special treasures and keepsakes. It is truly satisfying.

Now the bad news .... I have sadly outgrown the three thrifty shelves and my collection is spread about the house like foster children awaiting permanent homes. I have decided I want a library of my very own. Don't tell the dining room though ... mutiny must be avoided.

I can't help feeling that for the 4 times a year our dining room is filled to overflowing with family as we celebrate the holidays and special occasions - the room is underused and somewhat neglected. The side wall begs for floor to ceiling built-ins with even a sliding ladder to assist with the retrieval of those volumes stored in the highest of places. My husband reminded me that our ceilings are low enough that he can reach the highest shelf without need of a ladder - but what is a library without a ladder???

Anyway - enough chatter about that. Only time will tell if the inner book worm within my will win out ... I can hear Leo's poignant verses calling from the spare bedroom ... YES Please!