In pursuit of life, love and my authentic self.

Once upon a time I was needle phobic.  Then I got pregnant and had to have blood drawn to protect my unborn baby so I put my big girl pants on and had it done.  Imagine at 20 years old being checked for syphilis now that’s gross but it was standard procedure.  Just for the record, it was negative.

So now I could get a blood test done without having an anxiety attack but I still wouldn’t voluntarily go and get stuck.  Over time I began to feel a little guilty because there are a lot of people who can’t give blood, add to that those who are scared, and those who don’t give a damn, there aren’t many people left.

I was faced with a situation when my sister was having an operation and I wanted to donate but they wouldn’t take my blood for a direct transfer and as it turns out we didn’t have the same blood type.  It did get me thinking that the blood she got was from someone who did step up.

My friend volunteered every year for a memorial clinic at our elementary school.  One year we made a pact that the two “chickens” would take the whole year to gird up our loins (look it up) and then give blood at the next year’s blood donor clinic.  Boy that year flew by!  But true to our word we stood in line to get poked.

The needle is rather large and because I have low blood pressure, I have to squeeze a ball the whole time.  It’s a great feeling and everyone is very nice plus you get cookies at the end, so it can’t be that bad.

I will give you one tip I learned the hard way the last time I gave blood.  I didn’t eat before I went and went afterwards to a restaurant, had two glasses of wine and passed out flat on the floor before dinner.  The ambulance came, it was so embarrassing.  I didn’t give blood for two years.

The pre-donation questionnaire gets more restrictive every near.  No more having sex with monkeys, too bad.  My favorite question is whether over the last 12 months I’ve been in prison.  I’m assuming this wasn’t a metaphor because I did say no.

This weekend Hema Quebec called me again…  I gave in and agreed to go tonight.  It went very well and I’m proud to say that this was my 15^th donation which is not as much as it could be but it’s not too bad.  It only took 7 minutes and it arguably the best spent time of my day, maybe my month.

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I am reminded every once in a while how brave people can be.  I’m talking about caregivers.  Those who give of themselves, selflessly because they are committed to providing the care and love another person needs when they are sick or injured.

This post has been percolating in my mind all week and just now I’m going to try and assemble my thoughts.  It’s hard because of events going on around me.  There are two people in my circle who are dealing with the extreme illness of their child.  As a parent it is a terrifying thought to lose a child, even the threat is overwhelming.

But what if you are faced with a long term illness without knowing what the ultimate conclusion will be?  Will they get to their graduation and if so, to their wedding?  Will they have children and live a normal life (if there is such a thing).

How do you cope with your own fears and those of your other children and family members?  As parents and often mothers we are faced with being the leader, all roads lead from us.  I remember when my sister was so sick that at several points I wanted to run away and pretend it wasn’t happening.  I remember trying to broker deals with God.  One time I said to him “cut off my arm”.  I can live without my arm or a leg, just save my sister.  Since I still have both my arms and legs and not my sister; that plan didn’t work.  At one point I thought things couldn’t get any worse and then they did.

We try and find a possible reason for what’s happening.  Why her?  It’s not fair.  But in reality why not her and life is often not fair; we all know that but still expect it somehow especially for young people who haven’t had a chance to live their lives.

Sometimes people get angry with God.  How could a merciful God strike down a child or a loved one but God never said our time here on earth would be easy, only once you died and went to heaven to join him.   It’s as if we have to put these incredibly powerful feelings somewhere.

I would like to acknowledge all the caregivers that put their own lives virtually on hold to care for others.  When people like me go home to play tennis or read a new book, others go to the hospitals or home to care for sick loved ones or parents with dementia.   A friend of mine stopped working as a nurse to care for her mother.  These are the sacrifices born of compassion and commitment.

This is love

This post is dedicated to Anna and Sylvie and their daughters.  May these dark days become just a distant memory.

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Admittedly Canadians are known to be whiners especially about the weather.  It’s either too cold, too rainy, or too hot.  There are a few days most of us consider perfect, low humidity and 80 degrees (or 25 celcius). But seriously this week it was brutally hot and humid (97 with humidity it felt like 107).  We are not acclimatized to this heat and we are all suffering, some of us more than others.

My husband and I on vacation this week and made the four hour trek to the cottage.  It was already very hot when we left but when we arrived the cottage was stifling for lack of a better word.  Perhaps “sweat house” would be more accurate.  We left an air conditioned home for this.   We were glad to see my Mother-in-law and the surroundings are beautiful but the overwhelming heat was the elephant in the room.

The lake was very pleasant but the horse flies and deer flies were everywhere.  We looked like one of those segments on “funniest videos” trying to get back to the cottage without getting munched.  Sleep was only possible while naked in front of the fan set to full “eyeball drying” speed.  My husband thought about sleeping in the car with the air conditioning - that’s how desperate he was.

The poor doggies thought they had gone to hell.  Our Labradors are used to their air conditioned house and they panted so hard and so fast that it was worrisome.  Finally we took them for a swim in the lake but not before I covered myself in bug repellent.  The hilarious part was Zoe (the hunter) went in hunting for weeds only to bring them back as if they were ducks and Serena (the country bumpkin) stayed on shore and waited for her to come back.

We sat in the dark at night, drinking wine and telling stories.  Periodically I would get up and wet my head in the bath and refresh the cold cloth for my forehead.

It just goes to prove that when we are distracted by physical discomfort, our mind is preoccupied whether it be the heat, pain or hunger.  It makes it hard to concentrate or enjoy activities.  For people with asthma or the elderly the heat can be dangerous rather than simply uncomfortable.

On the third day we decided to throw in the towel and return to our air conditioning and I can’t tell you how relieved I was.  Yes I am indeed a whiner but if facebook is any indication, I’m in good company.  One of my friends updated her status to “one day closer to my retirement in Alaska”.

My favorite movie is the Wizard of Oz and if I had ruby slippers I would have tapped my heels together and said “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home”……..

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Have you ever considered that all the bad news you hear on the TV and driving to work is perhaps not all that is going on?  Consider this for a moment, if we can agree for the time being that most people are good and that what we hear about are the exceptions, then all the normal every day kindnesses and goodness that flows is simply not newsworthy.

I have trouble imagining Anderson Cooper reporting that Kay Heaton bought coffee for a stranger standing in line at the cafeteria.  Probably not.  Nevertheless I regularly perform acts of kindness for almost or complete strangers.  It is just so much fun to see their faces; it’s worth more than the price of admission.

Now for the story of Taffy.  Taffy is a 10 year old female tabby cat who is owned by a dear friend and colleague of mine.  My friend ML became increasingly allergic over the last year and decided she must find a new home for her.  The search started in April and despite significant efforts and contacting over 30 agencies and organizations no one would take a 10 year old cat, even a super nice cuddly one.

ML decided she had no choice but to put the cat to sleep but first would try one more vet who sometimes acts as an adoption agent.  The date was set for last Monday, June 21.  On the Friday before she told me of her plans and I knew that putting the cat down was going to be a traumatic and long lasting memorable event.   For those who are not animal lovers it is hard to understand but for those of us who cherish our animals, we would go to great lengths to protect them.

I asked two other dear friends if they would search out possible homes for Taffy.  My husband joined the search but by Monday, the day of execution we still didn’t have a new home for Taffy.  Things started to look up when I suggested she contact the Pierrefonds Veterinary Clinic.  The wonderful woman there agreed to take Taffy for three months and try to adopt her out since she had originally adopted her from there.

This was good news; at least Taffy wouldn’t be going to the gallows today!  Then I received a call from Anna who said and I quote “I saved the kitty” repeatedly.  The lady who works for the maintenance organization at work had agreed to give Taffy a good home.  She already has one cat and a golden retriever.

ML was so relieved that Taffy would be okay and was overwhelmed by the kindness of Suzanne the lady who agreed to take Taffy and all the people who were trying to her help her and her cat.  By the end of the day we had 5 homes for Taffy thanks to Maryse and Richard.  Taffy was delivered into the arms of her new owner Suzanne later that night and although it was very painful to let her go, she knew she had done what was best thing for her cat and herself.

I came home with a huge smile that day.  In fact I had this silly smile on my face all day.   I find it inspiring and gratifying when people pull together for a common good.  It happens every day in every corner of the world.

Human beings do terrible things to each other, there is no doubt about it and I’m not ignoring that but there is so much more good than we hear about.  The bad does not outweigh the good, quite the opposite.  I believe in the goodness of man and all we can achieve together when we give of ourselves to each other.

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I try to bring to my readers insight into what I’ve learned and experienced over my lifetime.  This week I will recount how I screwed up, what I did about it and how I felt about it.

This week was a very up and down week.  There were great emotional highs and lows like a roller coaster.

Here’s what happened.  I went to play tennis with my best friend.  I was feeling out of sorts but I figured it would do me good to exercise, blow off some steam and anyway it was too late to cancel.  I wasn’t even aware on a conscious level how irritated I was.

Everything she did bugged me.   Having to re-arrange her hair three times during the game, chasing after balls when I was ready to serve and finally what I thought was a questionable line call.  She is not a cheater and as I said to her, if she were I wouldn’t play with her much less be her friend.  I questioned the call which is poor sportsmanship and totally unacceptable.  I felt badly immediately after and it put her off her game.  I won in a tie break but winning under those circumstances is not enjoyable.

After wards she told me that she didn’t appreciate my questioning her call and that she would not cheat and that it had put her off her game.  She wanted to “clear the air”.  I remember thinking while she was talking to me that I was proud of her for speaking up without anger and expressing her feelings without attacking me.  This is exactly what I have encouraged her to do for many years.   I was furious at myself and disappointed in my behavior.

I came home and told my husband what I’d done.  I slept very poorly that night and the next day woke up with a migraine.  I apologized to her again in an e-mail and now she felt bad for upsetting me.   The good thing about this is I recognized I had blown it and apologized immediately.

What’s not so good is that I have trouble forgiving myself.  I am very forgiving of others and don’t hold a grudge.    I’m not perfect; anyone who knows me can tell you that.  It took me a full two days to recover.  I grew up in a family who didn’t apologize and mistakes were not readily forgiven.

I need to do some interior work on forgiving myself and letting things go once they are over.  I need to learn to “get over it” or more appropriate “get over myself”.  Dwelling on them and self flagellation is not very productive or amusing.

P.S .Marc and I invited my friend over for a great steak dinner last night after tennis and we had a good laugh about it.

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The subject of this post is the following statement and all the possible permutations it could cover.  I heard it this week and it got me to thinking.

“I think entirely too much but hey that’s what you want me to do right?”

The context is that if you are afraid to do what you want you could end up regretting not trying or following your dream or taking that risk.  I will be faced with this dilemma over the next 24 months.  Do I have the guts to retire early and follow my “dream” to be a life coach?  Is this a dream that could turn into a nightmare?

I could very well keep working, making a good salary and increasing my pension which would eventually pay me more when I do retire.  I could never make full pension because I started in my 30’s.  I will have enough to live on but I will have to be careful.

Money aside, I’m really good at what I do and I enjoy my job and the people I work with.  Giving them up will be a loss to me.  Even thinking about that is upsetting.   Going back to school does not scare me because I went to McGill in my later 30’s and often take courses plus I know I’m smarter than most of the other students.

It will feel so bizarre when someone asks me what I do for a living and I say,” I’m a student”.  So much of how we are perceived in the world is in the answer to that four word question.  People do ask me what I plan to do when I retire and when I tell them I’m planning to become a life coach they look puzzled and ask what a life coach is.   For those of you in the same boat, here’s is a good definition of what a life coach does and perhaps as importantly does not do.

Life coaching is a practice with the aim of helping clients determine and achieve personal goals. Life coaches use multiple methods that will help clients with the process of setting and reaching goals. Coaching is not targeted at psychological illness, and coaches are not therapists nor are they consultants.

Life coaching has roots in executive coaching, which itself drew on techniques developed in management consulting and leadership training.  Life coaching also draws inspiration from disciplines including sociology, psychology, positive adult development, career counseling, mentoring, and other types of counseling. The coach may apply mentoring, values assessment, behavior modification, behavior modeling, goal-setting, and other techniques in helping their clients.

Getting back to whether I will have the intestinal fortitude to make such a drastic change to my life, I guess we’ll have to wait and see.  I’m pretty gutsy but this a huge step for me.  What if nobody wants to be coached by me?

I’ve read quite a bit about people who change careers and never look back and wonder why they didn’t do it sooner.  Every article I see about this subject I read.  Most of them were unhappy in their jobs which is not my case.  I do feel I have more to offer the world both in the coaching role and also this will give me time to do the volunteer work I’ll enjoy.  I do feel the need to give back.

Okay folks, I would love to hear your opinion on this potential life changing plan.   I would particularly like to hear from those who have made changes, how you’ve handled the changes and whether if you had to do it all again, you would (or would not).  Too bad I can’t provide you voting buttons like on Outlook.

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I was fortunate to receive this from one of my dearest friends and protégé.  If you have someone in your life that has helped you along the way, perhaps it’s time you acknowledged their role in your life.  For myself, I will just enjoy the moment.

My Mentor, My Friend

Thank you for allowing me
the opportunity
to learn from you
when I was seeking so much knowledge
when I was asking many questions
you patiently listened and answered accordingly
never showing signs of frustration

Thank you for taking the time
to show me the necessary skills today
that will lead me with confidence into tomorrow
for believing in me and having enough faith
to share your work
your dreams
and your vision

Thank you for accepting me as I am
with all my eagerness
and my sheer joy over the little things…
you never tried to squelch that spirit in me
Instead, you have encouraged that spirit
and for that, I do thank you

I realized the knowledge I need for work can be learned anywhere,
taught by most anyone
but the life skills I needed that go along with it…
well, that would have to be taught by a very unique individual
with a very special gift for giving
a gift of patience and understanding
that someone is you, my Mentor
and now, my friend

by Theresa Genter

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OMG can I really be here; after all my promises to myself that I wouldn’t let it happen again?

Why is it I am so disciplined in every other area of my life but endlessly struggle to maintain my weight?  I am not blessed with a fast metabolism but I certainly don’t have any physical reason to be 15 lbs above my goal weight.

I am not fat but I am definitely overweight. I am only 5′3″ and let me tell you girls that once you get to your 40’s and even worse your 50’s and menopause, you can’t eat what you used to do and get away with it.

It is frustrating though.  I love pasta, bread, pizza, wine and a little chocolate.  None of these things are good for me.  It’s the old adage; everything we like isn’t good for us.  Or maybe we like them because we know they’re not good for us.  No, I really do like them.

Today I played singles at tennis and I can tell you that extra weight is really making it harder to play.  I have to find a way to get rid of it.  I will not however, resort to drastic measures as I have before.  The results are a certain amount of weight loss but experienced side effects like having my hair fall out.  That was very distressing.  The last time I went on the Atkins type diet I had abnormal liver enzymes and my doctors were worried I had hepatitis.

After my pneumonia this winter I was within 5 lbs of my goal weight having lost 7 lbs but the weight crept back on a little each week.  So it’s time to gird up my loins (one of my Father’s expressions - look it up) again, dump the wine (for now) and get back on the elliptical daily.

I was reminded last night of a young acquaintance who has cancer who would love to have my problem.  It’s important to keep things in perspective.  I really enjoyed the book “Dietgirl” written by Shauna Reid, a young Australian girl who had a tremendous amount of weight to lose, it took her several years but the most important message she brought to us was to not give up.  She didn’t give up and she eventually reached her goal.  You can enjoy her insights at www.dietgirl.org

The final irony is that most men couldn’t care less if they are 15 lbs overweight.  Another female curse!

Do you need to lose weight?  Tell me your stories; they will make me feel better.  No skinny people allowed.

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I was reminded this week by Jason how powerful our early childhood memories are and how they affect our lives even as adults. I had an idyllic childhood until around the age of 10 when my Mother’s alcoholism began to impact our family. As I was the baby of the family I was less impacted than my older Sister. I really have no memories until I was around the age of four or five. My first memory is of being yelled at by my Dad for watering the bushes. In those days wine and sherry came in these big dark bottles and I had found some in the garage. I didn’t know what was in them and it looked like water to me so I did what I thought was a good deed. The only catch is that what was in those bottles was kerosene! Nothing ever grew in that garden again. When I think back now that was pretty dangerous to leave kerosene where a four year old could have drunk it instead. They didn’t worry about things like this in the late 50’s, early 60’s.

Another early childhood memory was being abandoned at the Montreal Airport Hilton. My Father’s construction company built it and it was a favorite haunt of my parents. One evening we all went there for dinner and afterwards my parents met up with a friend of theirs and disappeared. As it turns out he was breaking up with his wife and required some advice. We were left in the lobby to wait for what seemed an eternity and I can remember being frightened that they weren’t coming back to get us. My Sister kept reassuring me that everything was fine but I remember I was very happy to see them and mad that them at the same time.

Most of my earliest memories are of Christmas mornings because they were magical. I believed in Santa until at least 12 and I kind of still believe. I also remember when I was in Grade 3 and one of the neighborhood boys would not allow me to come home at lunch, blocked my way and threaten to beat me up. I was really scared and intimidated. His family lived across the street, a family of three boys. When my Mum found out she marched over there and tore a strip off of Mrs. Fraser. The harassment ceased immediately. Maybe that’s where I learned to be Rambo Mom.

So if I learned anything from these memories it is not to water your bushes with kerosene, don’t leave your children alone in hotel lobbies, believe in Santa forever and stand up for your children.

Not so bad. What did your early childhood memories teach you?

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