See Ya Later, 2019

SEE YA LATER, 2019

Tuesday, December 31, 2019


Once again, the year has rolled on and, as usual, it is time to reflect and reminisce on what has happened, what has been experienced and what has been learnt. It is also time to think ahead to what is desired for the future: What is to be accomplished, discovered, felt and seen.

Somehow, 12 months passed with nary a hiccup. Not to say there weren't hiccups, or thought disruptors swirling through my mind. I am human so, sooner or later, something in life was bound to crop up bringing with it increased stress and anxiety. No hospitalization was required, no broken bones needed mending. Emotional stress can be just as harmful as physical stress. Compared to prior years, however, the load this year was fairly easily managed.

2019 actually began with me writing; something I did little of in the latter half of the year. After receiving a nod from a publisher back in 2018, I took myself to a quiet little cabin for the month of April to try and crank out some chapters. Several large, rubber bins accompanied me: bins that contained notebooks, index cards, books on memoir writing, other people's memoirs, and a stock-pile of family photographs to get me right back into the moment. After 4 weeks in the Blaeberry Valley (I could move there in an instant!), some emotional walls were knocked down, others put up, and three chapters were written.

With the memoir, I always figured it would be a piece of cake to write about the 'good stuff'. There was so much of it. By comparison, the 'bad stuff' would call for much more courage and fortitude. Turns out the exact opposite was true. I had (and still have) no problem writing about the darker sides of my marriage. When it came to the happy and love-filled side, however, the mind emptied. I was completely incapable of taking myself back in time to the first five years of my marriage (when all was blissful and newlywed-ish). I told myself to just keep trying. After two weeks, I finally gave up.

It was then that I realized that even though a memoir will be read in chronological order, it doesn't mean that it has to be written in chronological order! In other words, I gave myself permission to jump ahead onto the next big section of life: sailing.

I have lived a total of 11 years on the ocean, on three different sailboats. I figured the memoir would likely have two chapters covering sailing. After describing the first two weeks of an 11-year span, the sheer amount of information hit like a tsunami. Crashing on top of me was the realization that there was so much to describe. Again, I came to a grinding halt. How can I possibly write all of this? Instead of not knowing what to write (or how to write it), I became overwhelmed with the sheer quantities of useable material. Decisions had to be made as to what to include, and what not include. I simply wasn't in the frame of mind to pick and choose. By this time, my month in the cabin was over and it was time to pack up and move onto the RiverBase for the next 5 months.

Saved by work, not a single word was written between May and October.  It took the first meeting of my writing group since March to actually get me to produce something. And produce something, I did! Going with inspiration and mood, I typed out a pivotal scene between my ex and I. The ladies in my writing group loved it and spurred me on to get back it.

At about the same time, I heard back from a local online literary magazine, Sea To Sky Review. Much to my surprise, and excitement, an email was sent saying they'd like to publish (yes ... PUBLISH!) my submitted piece of prose. The theme for this particular quarterly edition was dangerous seas. A girlfriend, and writing group member, urged me to enter. "If anyone can write about dangerous seas, it's you!". At the very last minute, my piece titled Stormy Waters was sent in. What the heck? Got nothin' to lose!

My biggest accomplishment in 2019 is that I can now claim to be a published author.  Yahoo!

While chatting with a girlfriend last night, the topic of intentions arose. When she inquired into mine, an off-the cuff answer came flying out. "I know what I have to do, it's just a matter of doing it. I know I have to eat better, move more and write. Once I cover these basics, everything else will fall into place."

So, for 2020 I'm keeping it simple. I plan to work hard to stay focused on these simple things so that my life is that much better. Rather than grumbling about my blubber, or my creeky joints, or my lack of chapters, I simply have to admit that without dedicated work, none of these things will get accomplished. I won't get into better shape without watching what I eat and exercising more. I won't get a book written if I don't write!  It's pretty simple, isn't it?

My focus will be put into daily, and minute-by-minute, checks to make sure I'm doing what's right for me in the long run. I've never been a great planner, so maybe it's time to think on a more extended span of time. One step in front of the other ... and I'll get there. I just have to keep taking steps!

I hope you keep taking one step after another, too. Walk straight into 2020, and don't stop.

Happy New Year.

Unplugging

Monday, December 9, 2019

UNPLUGGING

For several weeks, no actually, for several months, I have told myself to exert discipline when it comes to the time spent looking at screens. Can anyone else relate to this? When I think of the accumulated hours wasted, yes wasted, scrolling up, down, back and forth through social media accounts, along with playing ridiculous iPhone/iPad games (Candy Crush and Spider Solitaire), simply shaking my head at myself lacks a certain sense of remorse.

Thank goodness (yet, again) for girlfriends. The other evening, four of us ladies gathered around a fifth's kitchen table, chatting, laughing and clipping out inspiring pictures, ideas and notions for 2020 vision boards. Friday evening's gathering produced in me a new sense of dedication. Vocalizing one's own fears/insecurities/desires (especially with those meeting for the first time) really does help! Being in a safe setting (i.e. a girlfriend's kitchen) removes all sense of shame. Telling a stranger some of your worst habits has quite a cleansing effect. Not only are alternatives pointed out, but you learn of how others deal with the exact same problem. As I so appreciatively learned five years ago, it is such a relief to know you are not alone with a particular experience.

My cure for incessant screen time and scrolling presented itself: leave technology in the living room at the end of the day. Plug it in, charge it up and put it to sleep for the night ... somewhere other than where I sleep. Whether the device is completely turned off, or silenced, or put into airplane mode depends upon how badly I need to keep the connection with my children available for those 8 hours. I suppose turning off Wifi and shutting down data would stop everything except telephone calls coming in. It is a phone after all, and my children should be able to call their mother any time of the day or night.

Last night, I put the plan into action. The iPhone went into airplane mode and sat quietly all night on the hallway table. All computers were shut down, too. I do admit to having to set my alarm on my iPad, but had first turned off Wifi and deleted all possible distractions (Facebook, Instagram and games). Today I should pop down to the thrift shop to find a good, old-fashioned alarm clock.  Afterwards, I read a couple of chapters of a new book, spurring thoughts for my own memoir draft at the same time. How wonderfully relaxing and thought-provoking (which is really the definition of reading in the first place, isn't it?).

This morning, after rising from a solid night's sleep, I jogged in the darkness because I didn't waste an hour in bed catching up with my screen. I got up, got dressed and got out the door. Sitting at the table having breakfast, after getting showered and dressed, I allowed myself the time to open up the iPhone and see what the digital world around me has been up to in my absence.  Besides a notice for someone who wants to check out a jacket I'm selling (from a notice posted on FB), I haven't missed a thing. More time was actually spent scrutinizing my Christmas gift plan and what is still left to do.

Tonight will, most definitely, be a repeat of last night. There is, after all, so much more to enjoy in life than time in front of the screen.

Happy Monday, everyone.

Gosh, It Has Been A While

Saturday, November 16, 2019

GOSH, IT HAS BEEN A WHILE

Sitting at my desk, on a rainy Saturday afternoon, I can only shake my head at the lack of writing accomplished over the past months.  Two years ago the first draft of my memoir was completed and with great gusto and determination I attended the Whistler Writers Festival. The goal was to find a publisher. Little did I realize at that time all the writing and revision still required in order to turn the rough first draft into a stellar story of woman claiming her own ground.

One year ago, again at the Whistler Writers Festival, and to my utter amazement, I received a nod from a publisher. Someone was actually interested in my story! What joy, what bliss. My dream of becoming a published author may not be just a dream, after all.

Back to square one became my motto.  Time was taken not to write, but learn the craft of writing. Connections were made with other memoir authors; books to read about writing were recommended and either checked out of the library or ordered on Amazon (sorry, independent book sellers). Before I could write a riveting memoir, I first had to learn how to write a riveting memoir. Terms such as 'voice' and 'narrative arc' set my mind awhirl, confusing and confounding me. These were not terms I remembered from high school. After weeks of torment, and asking lots of questions to anyone connected in the slightest degree to the world of writing, I finally understood. I found my voice (or, voices, as the case may be) and de-mystified the meaning of narrative arc.

When not reading about writing, I was reading other peoples' memoirs, learning how each one wrote his or her personal story. How details were divulged and described, and how much detail at that. Many books are marked in the margins or tagged with post-it notes at the top. What's the saying?  To be a good writer one must be a good reader.

Then it was time to tear the original draft apart, in good old cut and paste fashion. The story had to be told in chronological order, rather than jumping back and forth between events and insights. There is an interesting sense of orderliness and satisfaction when taking scissors to the pages of your draft, and re-arranging paragraphs into time-relevant piles on the living room rug (with a glass of red wine nearby).

Even then, the flow of words escaped me. I learned from another publisher at the festival, that memoirs require a 'thread', a common element that flows throughout the story and pulls all these life-shaping events together. 

As in "H Is For Hawk", it took many, many months for me to find my 'hawk'. It took all of last winter, and the spring and summer of 2019, until I finally came upon this highly needed and highly elusive element. While driving home with a girlfriend from a day-long hike near Pemberton a few weeks ago, I mentioned my current conundrum. It should not have surprised me that she was able to quickly, and correctly, hit the nail on the head.  By the time she dropped me off at my front door, I had my 'hawk'!  (And, no, I will not say what it is ... you'll just have to wait until my memoir is published). It made such complete sense and put my mind at ease instantly. I understood how the story is now to unfold, and what the common element will be throughout the various chapters. Yee Haw!

A good portion of the writing process is not writing at all. Thinking about what is to be written takes much more time. Ideas percolate and swirl for days, weeks, months before 'eureka' is exclaimed and another hurdle is safely cleared.

I think I can safely say that many technical hurdles have been cleared. Emotional hurdles still appear on the horizon. Frustrating me greatly was the fact that what I thought would be easy to write about, turned out to be excruciating; and what I feared would be hard to write flowed without hiccup. That took me by complete surprise. I could not find the words to describe the good times; while the bad times were a piece of cake.

Last month I attended, for the third year in a row, the Whistler Writers Festival. Lots of familiar faces were seen, hugs and laughter shared. Inspiration took hold once again after being amongst writers and people who have been a part of my writing world. I came home at the end of the four days, knowing it is time to get on with this project and get 'er done!

The other night, the writing group I belong to met at my place to catch up, celebrate and talk about our personal projects. It was good to be back in their company, and to hear their comments and encouragement. Their questions even made me realize something incredibly fundamental to a certain point of time. Who knew how therapeutic a ladies' writing group can be?!

Beside me, in a large blue rubber storage bin, sits all my notes, index cards, journals, drafts and writing memorabilia. It has been in this tub since the beginning of May! I think I'm ready to unpack the bin, and unpack my memories and reflections. There's nothing to be afraid of.  It's only writing. As the photograph above indicates, I am a writer.

More Layers Peeled Back

MORE LAYERS PEELED BACK

Friday, February 22, 2019

I just had an amazing walk in the forest!

A massive, MASSIVE breakthrough was experienced as I walked the snow-covered trails in the forest.

It was the falling snow that prompted me to get out, not a need to take it to the forest (my personal motto when emotions and thoughts tumble around in my mind and need sorting out).  I love walking in the snow.  So out into the snow I went.

As is usual on the BC coast, the snow today was quite wet.  Huge flakes were falling; more like clumps of snow rather than individual flakes.  Every minute or so (seriously) I had to brush the snow off my jacket.  It accumulated that quickly!

The first portion of the walk was straight down a street to the very end (it's a fairly long and level street) to one of many, many, many trailheads in the area.  No major thoughts churned about in my mind at this point.  I was simply enjoying the peacefulness that comes with a blanketing of snow.  The sidewalk and street were just as I like them:  unploughed.  There is something very satisfying walking in untouched snow.

Once on the actual trail, there was instant elevation.  Winding through the trees I stopped regularly to look up and really see the forest (and catch my breath).  It is so easy to keep one's eyes downcast, and watch where your feet go.  I love stopping and looking up.  There is a world of beauty up there, so look at it!  With trees and trail draped with a couple of inches of snow, it was definitely a winter wonderland scene.

As the trail levelled out and widened, and I no longer needed to pay attention to where my feet were, the usual thing happened.  I started talking to myself!  An imaginary interview was being conducted (upon publication of my memoir, of course) and I was chatting about how I reconciled airing my family's dirty laundry, so to speak.  This has been quite an obstacle for me lately, so talking out loud about it, in the forest, was the equivalent of a therapist's couch, or an evening with girlfriends.

My discussion carried on for quite a while along the trail; no one else was around.  Suddenly, as if the blinds in a darkened room sprang up without warning, my world instantly became lighter and brighter.

I had always given credit to my former husband for the successes of our family.  That I played only a supporting role, following his lead on everything.  While walking in the forest this morning, and talking out loud to the trees, I (finally) acknowledged that I did not merely 'follow', but that I was a full-blown, 100% participant in the success of my family.  Yes, many of our family initiatives were because of his vision.  That is undisputed.  Up until an hour ago, I was always hesitant to claim any credit for all the wonderful things we did and experienced.  What happened in the forest, with no warning whatsoever, was me giving myself the acknowledgement I was hesitant to give.

Because of this epiphany, I now see my past roles as wife and mother as a full partner, rather than merely as a sidekick.

My family was not the successful family it was because of him.  It was successful because of us.  The two of us, together, created this incredible family.  I did play just as important a role as he did.  And, I will never doubt that again.

The continued success of my family since July 18, 2014 has been solely due to me.  I have never questioned that fact.  But it sure is a relief to be able to say that we equally created everything in our life, together.  He was no more important than I.  That those adventures he led us on were my adventures, too; not just something I watched from the sidelines.

Ownership of the part I played in my marriage has now been realized.

Holy smokes.  That's HUGE!

As soon as this revelation hit me, I hugged the nearest tree.  I took that moment in as I needed to.

When I set out from my front door on the morning walk, I had no inkling that there was an underlying need to take something to the forest.  Thanks to that forest, I feel so much lighter, so much more focused, and so much more proud of myself than I have felt in a while.

Yay for me!

#TakeItToTheForest

Happy Friday, everyone.

It's Been A While

Thursday, December 13, 2018

Many thoughts float through my mind lately.  Thoughts of my memoir, thoughts of my children, thoughts of Christmas, thoughts of 2019.

Starting at the top of the list:  My memoir.

My summer revision project (Summer '18, that is) was to start back at childhood and fill in all the gaps and details up to present day.  I wanted to write a complete draft, leaving nothing out.  The thought behind this seemed logical:  Whittling down was easier than building up.  When I mentioned this to my writing group, one lady exclaimed, "That's a huge job".

I was not deterred.  When I arrived in the Rockies in May (by the way, I worked in the Rockies for 5 months over the summer!), I dove in rapidly, but quickly lost steam.  It felt as if my hands were weighed down by cement every time the keyboard was touched.  Things just were not flowing.  By the end of the summer, I only had two chapters written and I wasn't terribly thrilled with them.  Something wasn't quite right.

Starting at the end of September in Whistler was a 7-week 'Writer In Residence' program, offered through the Whistler Writers Festival.  I was encouraged to sign up for this course by the grand dame of all things literary in this neck of the woods, Stella.  The program consisted of 3 one-on-one sessions with the resident writer, and four group sessions with the other 9 students.  Ideas were suggested as to possible structural considerations; some I fancied and some caused me pause.  Again, something wasn't sitting quite right with me.  I was definitely moving in the right direction, but still was not quite there.

Shortly after the course began, the 4-day Whistler Writers Festival took place.  I had signed up for a non-fiction manuscript assessment with a publisher to whom I pitched at the 2017 Festival.  Within seconds of walking into the room with her, I was given some of the best news I could ever have imagined:  She was interested in proceeding with me and my manuscript!  A publisher said 'yes'!

I was thrilled, ecstatic, blown away and giddy as a little child on Christmas morning.  Validated also aptly described my mood.

An entirely new focus then began for how my story was to unfold.  I read books on structure, on writing memoirs (Memoir Writing For Dummies is fabulous, by the way!); basically learning the craft of writing as if back in school.  Writing a book involves more than just writing words on a page; there is a ton of thinking and scribbling of thoughts before you even know what to write.  It's quite a process.

It has been over a month since the course wrapped up, and I am 85% there with my outline.  I have figured out my voices; figured out most of the structure; and figured out how I will wrap everything up in the end.  The missing 15% is about the message.  I am fine-tuning and clarifying just what I want the overall message of the book to be.  Given the current societal climate, I truly feel that what I have to say is important.  I want it to be important.  I want my book to make a difference.  In order to achieve that, I must carefully think out and dissect what the overall message will be, and how it will be delivered.   I have a huge opportunity before me to impart some wisdom and inspire confidence.  This is a task I take seriously and with great conviction.

Next in line is Christmas.  This year, traditions are changing a bit and flexibility is required.  Yes, I will be spending the majority of the holidays with my children, just on a slightly different schedule compared to the past several years.  Without surprise, I've cried over this altering of events.  Even though one has notions that something is coming down the pipe, it does not make it any easier to accept when it becomes reality.  Any single parent out there will know of what I speak.  Plans have been made to do other activities when the children are not yet with me.  I will not lie about and feel sorry for myself.  As someone suggested, this is the time to establish new traditions just for me because it's my Christmas, too.  I like that.  In my world, that means time with girlfriends!

And, how will 2019 take shape?  All I really know is that I have a book to write.  I want to have a good, solid first draft (well, second draft really if you count the original that needs so much work!) to submit to my publisher by the end of the summer.  A self-imposed deadline.  In between, I will definitely need time in the mountains to nourish my soul.  What form that mountain time will take is something I'm working on.  Needless to say, there will be mountain time for this 53-year old lady.

As 2018 winds down, I wish everyone a happy, healthy and fantastically fabulous 2019.  Get out there and go after whatever it is you want to go after.  Stand strong, take no guff from no one, smile lots and laugh even more.  Find your own version of an alpine trail, and fill it with as much beauty as possible.   That's what I plan to do.

I'll keep you posted on the book writing.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Monday, October 8, 2018

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Recently I have tossed around various thoughts about the past few months, the past few years, and the months and years that lie ahead.  Foremost in those thoughts is the question:  What the heck am I going to do with myself?  A question, no doubt, that just about everyone asks him/herself on a fairly frequent basis.

As y'all know, I spent the past five months working in the Rockies (more about that later).  I returned home to Squamish a couple of weeks ago with that nagging question bouncing around in my mind.  What am I going to do now?  What am I going to do now?

Financial security is one aspect of my life that is rather consuming.  I'm 53 years old with lots of life experience, but have no career or profession to help feed my bank account.  Yes, I have a business degree.  Yes, I created a job for myself with a white water rafting outfit; a job that will carry on through the winter and back into next season (yay!).  After that, who knows?  I have lived the past couple of years on a very tight budget, and I fully admit that I'm tired of living that way.  But (and here comes the self-doubt), what do I have in my arsenal of employable skills that will appeal to a potential employer?  Add in my age and it's no surprise that few respond to my application submissions. 

I'm feeling a tad bit lost.  Can you tell?

When friends are talking about retirement, all I can think is 'Ha! Retirement?'  I don't see that word in my future.  I had the good fortunate of enjoying my first retirement back in 2001 when my family went sailing for seven years.  Goodness only knows when, or even if, there will be a second retirement later in life.

There are some ideas floating around, and possibilities out there that have recently appeared.  It is such opportunities that, I truly feel, will help lead me down the path of financial fulfillment.  I simply must trust my abilities, experience, insight and instinct in doing what is right for me.

With that notion, complete with renewed vim and vigour and self-awareness, I will get back to my task at hand:  preparing for the Whistler Writers Festival.  I will be face-to-face with three publishers later this week.  Pitch, pitch, pitch, until I can pitch no more!  My financial security, perhaps (hopefully), lies within the manuscript currently under revision.

Here's hoping you, too, are full of vim, vigour and self-awareness.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Hiking, As I Like Hiking

Friday, August 3, 2018

HIKING, AS I LIKE HIKING

Yesterday, on an unusal Thursday off from work, I went for a hike with a new friend.  We had casually chatted on the banks of the Columbia River earlier this spring about birds and hiking.   We both thought it would be nice to go for a hike together at some point.

Not only did I have the day off when she contacted me, but the destination was also one that I was considering for that day anyway!  The stars alligned, or something like that, for a great day in the alpine chatting and laughing away with a lady I knew nothing about 36 hours ago.

I have always enjoyed natural history, and learning names and stories of the the flowers, trees, birds and geological features when wandering in the outdoors.  This lady was a cornacopia of wildflower and bird knowledge.  What a treat!

We sauntered the alpine casually moving from one wildflower to another, looking at the leaves and petals, and breathing in the fresh scent that accompanied some of the blossoms.  Bog orchids smell fantastic, by the way! 

We struck out on the trail at 9:30 in the morning.  27 kilometers, and 9.5 hours later, we returned to our respective vehicles.  What a fabulous day.

And, as always in the alpine, there is so much more to explore:  The mountain pass off to the left looked very intriguing ...

Happy Friday, Everyone from a happy leg-and-foot-weary hiker.

The Sun Shines Again Today

Tuesday, July 31, 2018

THE SUN SHINES AGAIN TODAY

Well, after yesterday's rather morose rambling, I'm pleased to state that my world feels a lot more solid today.

After lengthy telephone conversations with different girlfriends, and the shedding of a small bucketload (small, I said!) of tears, my head seems to back to its proper place.

A consistent comment I hear from girlfriends, near and far, is that my children are so well grounded because of me, their mother.  I cannot say for certain why, but I have always doubted just how effective a mother I have been.  These past four years are the exception to that.  I know precisely just how effective a mother I've been since July 18, 2014.  It is the years before that cause me pause.

Every now and then though, I do manage to realize and acknowledge what I offered to my children over the years as they grew from newborns to full-blown adult:  I did offer stability and security; that I was a good role model for them.  It doesn't happen on a regular basis, mind you.  But sometimes a glimmer of self-confidence shines forth on this particular topic.  I have no problem acknowledging all sorts of other strengths, but this one is a bit more challenging.

My children have been completely unaware of my minor meltdown.  It was to my girlfriends I turned to help get past this most recent emotional blip.  I am very lucky to have such options available at my fingertips (thanks to cellular coast-to-coast service!).

When such emotions bubble to the service, are talked about and dealt with appropriately, I realize and acknowledge what else I have to offer:  My own insights and spin on the world based upon the life I have lived so far.   I do believe that I have worthwhile words to share with you, and others, out there in this great big beautiful wide world.

So, with that, I close this off and return to my memoir manuscript with renewed vigor.  The fates, perhaps, were trying to tell me something in a not-so-subtle way.

Happy Tuesday, Everyone (and Happy Last Day of July...eek!).

Haunted

Monday, July 30, 2018

HAUNTED

Yesterday, while sitting in my camp chair next to my tent, I finished the book "Tell It To The Trees", by Anita Rau Badami.

When I first saw the book on a thrift store shelf several months ago, the title immediately caught my attention.  One of my favourite sayings, along with 'Smile and Wave', is 'Take it to the forest, because the forest can take it'.  After all, many a time over the past four years, I took myself to the forest so that deep-rooted anguish could be released to the trees.  Standing in the thrift store that day, I could not ignore the possible common thread between book title and personal motto.

It took me a while to get into the book.  Not because of the writing, but because of the subject matter:  It struck much too close to home.  It is a story of a family, isolated in a small northern BC town, who are subjected to emotional and physical turmoil.

After the first couple of chapters were read, I put the book down and had great difficulty returning to it.  While camping on my own this weekend, I finally finished it.  A reader's guilt, perhaps, for not wanting to let a book go unfinished.

The ghosts that have haunted me these past several days because of this book have brought me to tears and emotional meltdown.  Thank goodness I was on my own.  Thoughts and theories and reactions that I (thought I had) laid to rest six months ago have burst back to the surface.  And it is not so much my well being that is the focus of this unrest.  It is the well being of the three other individuals in my life that has me in turmoil.

I know my own experiences, my own stories and my own scars inside and out.  I know from what wounds I have healed.  It is the unknown and uncertainty of scars belonging to others that weakens me right now.

Every indication exists that scars, if any exist at all, have successfully healed over.  Three sets of feet stand firmly upon a strong foundation of emotional balance and realistic perspective.  Level heads and confident personalities give a mother the proof that everything within is AOK.  Yet a mother must always be on the lookout for cracks appearing in that foundation.  I do not wish for cracks, but vigilance is required to ensure if cracks appear they do not tear the foundation apart.

It is Monday morning.  After two nights of sleep in a tent, and hiking on my own in the alpine, I feel refreshed and exhausted at the same time.  Refreshed from the mountains; exhausted from emotions.

I think perhaps I need to write a letter to the author, explaining, without malice, that one person's fiction can be another person's life.

A walk in the forest after work this evening will do me good.

Happy Monday, Everyone.

How To Tell I Made The Right Decision

Sunday, June 10, 2018

HOW TO TELL I MADE THE RIGHT DECISION

I have been at my new place of employment for over a month now.  Many indicators exist to reinforce that I made the right decision to do what I am currently doing.

To review:  I accepted a job offer, in another part of the province, in an industry in which I have worked for most of my adult life, which came about because of my own initiative.  I now work and live in the Canadian Rockies, outside the lovely little town of Golden, BC, doing what I love doing best (getting people to the river to go rafting!).

How can I tell I am doing the right thing for me?

Here's a list:

1.  The instant I arrived in the Rocky Mountain Trench and saw the town of Golden, surrounded by lines of mountains and bathed in the fresh green hues of spring, I knew I found my new home.  I instantly felt content.

2.  When I first walked down the gravel laneway to check out the riverbase (when no one else was around, which means I was trespassing!), I knew this was going to be the second best office ever to work at (the first best office being my own living room and dining room when running my own outfit years ago in Brackendale).

3.  Driving along Highway 1 through Yoho and Banff National Parks, and seeing those mountains again, I instantly felt as if I was amongst long lost friends.

And not only that, but this:

4.  Yesterday, I put on a pair of hiking pants that have not fit me properly for the past year or so.  Apartment-bound indulgences (i.e.  eating too much and not doing enough physically) had a negative effect on how well my clothes fit me.

Today, those pants fit and even have some room to spare!

The fact that I have lost some weight and trimmed down a bit is testament to living the life that is right for me.

I'm eating less, doing more, looking up and smiling at everything and everyone, have a spring in my step, and generally know in my heart that I am in the place I belong.

It is an amazing feeling.

I have not found a new home ... I have come back home.

I hope you are at home, too.

Happy Sunday, Everyone!

The Other Day, I Saw A Bear ...

Tuesday, May 29, 2018

The Other Day, I Saw A Bear ...

Well actually, I saw two bears the other day!

Sunday was a day off so I hopped in my trustworthy Jeep and went exploring.  The original plan was to head to Lake Louise early in the morning (I seem to be waking up between 5 and 6am these days) and hike up to the Agnes Lake Tea House.  The intention was to get ahead of the weekend crowds at Lake Louise and possibly enjoy the trail to myself.

As I drove towards Lake Louise from the village, a last minute change of mind had me turn left onto Moraine Lake road and drive to that lake instead.  Even with an arrival of 8:00am, there was a small yet bustling crowd beginning to build on the shorelines.  I debated about hiking beyond to Consolation Lakes but opted for a shoreline walk around to the glacial feedwaters of Moraine at the far end.

Moraine Lake used to be firmly displayed on the back of the Canadian $20 bill.  When I worked in Banff back in 1987, and visitors would ask me "Where should we go today?", I would hold up a $20 bill and say "You should go here!".  That is now a thing of the past.  I haven't a clue what image is on the back of the current $20 bill.


I was quite surprised, however, at the variety of trailheads located  at Moraine Lake.  Hikes that are not too crazy in distance either to amazing destinations.  Consolation Lakes are only 2.5km away.  Larch Valley was only 4.5km.  All sorts of interesting places to go without huge hiking distances.  The key will be to be in the Moraine Lake parking lot very, very early in the morning.  Why?  Simply to get a parking spot!  By the time I drove back down the 11km road to the junction with Lake Louise Drive at 10:15am, Moraine Lake access was already barricaded and Parks Canada staff counting precisely the number of vehicles coming out so they would know precisely how many vehicles they could let in at a time.  The lovely young lady I spoke to said people were being quite angry and mean about the whole thing.  We both laughed at the fact that it was only the end of May, she said "I know; I'm scared!".

So after that gong show, I stopped at the Lake Louise Village for a quick snoop around Samson Mall, grabbed a Chai Latte and Deep Dish Brownie (the last one!) from TrailHead Cafe and got myself out there!  For as beautiful as Moraine Lake and Lake Louise are, the masses of people there have tainted it for me.   Beauty definitely is to be found in the more remote and isolated locations.

I headed north on the Icefield Parkway to check out Bow Lake and to get away from the crowds.

This was my reward:

Isn't he (or she) gorgeous?

********

Now for a big leap forward in time!

Tuesday, June 5th.

Well, a few days have passed by and I did not write a thing.  Shame on me.  Oh well.  Here I am back again.

Currently, I sit at the table in our crew kitchen at the riverbase.  I start work in an hour so inspiration is telling me to get back to what I started and fill y'all in (that is, if there are any y'alls out there who need filling in!).

The bear above was observed on a previous day off.  This past weekend, when I had both Saturday and Sunday off, I added more bear observations to my list.  I don't have photos of those bears, three in total, but one was a beautiful silvery grizzly feeding on the fresh grasses and dandelions roadside in Kootenay National Park.  My wildlife count for Sunday was 1 grizzly, 2 black bears, 3 deer, 4 elk, several big horn sheep and lots of Columbia ground squirrels.

I finally saw a grizzly! 

I was told, by a very polite and friendly park warden (who was politely reprimanding me for stopping along Highway 1 within Banff National Park...'cuz you're not supposed to do that!), that as so many bears (both black and griz) feed along an 11km stretch of highway through Kootenay NP, a sign was erected prohibiting any vehicles from stopping.  And because I forgot to fill up my Jeep with gas in Radium (the gong-show tourist town at the western entrance to Kootenay NP), I had to turn around, drive past the griz a second time, fill up with gas, then drive past the same griz a third time in order to continue on my way!   I will be above board however, and only count that as one grizzly sighting!  But it is the first griz sighting of 2018.  That counts as a huge win.

What I have learned, or realized, or appreciated, during these off-work forays, is that I am so amazingly content in this region.  While wondering along a still snow-packed trail into the alpine above Peyto Lake on Sunday, and reaching the bowl below Bow Summit, I shed tears.  I spoke to the mountain top (see below) and asked if it had any idea how important the alpine is to me.  As I've stated before, I am not a hard core mountaineer by any stretch of the imagination.  My comfort place is simply the alpine.  I adore the mountains.  I love the colours, the size, the gargantuan massifs.  I love the tiny little flowers that grow amongst the pebbles in these giant landscapes.  I love the freshness of the air; its clarity and its grace.  In the alpine is where I am THE most content.  It is no wonder such places bring tears to my eyes. 

On a different occasion last week, after work, myself and 2 young lady colleagues drove down the nearby forest service road to find a lookout over a big waterfall.  The thought struck me as I gaped at the beauty of the evening light on the fresh spring growth, that I have been waiting nine years for this contentedness to return to my life (have I written about this already?).  Ever since returning to my family's home town of Squamish in 2009, I have been chomping at the bit to be in a place that truly matters to me.  Again, this is absolutely no reflection upon the amazing people and friendships that I have in Squamish.  I speak only in geographical terms. 

My life needed further fulfilling at that time, and due to commitments at that time (namely, family life!), the need for fulfillment came in other forms (namely, my children).  Now that life has done a 180-degree turn since 2009 (or 2014), fulfillment is now pouring in from all sides.

I am completely and utterly content with my life.

So what if I don't have a bunch of money in my bank account.  So what if I don't have a partner in my life.  Those are things that I do not NEED.  'Nice to have', perhaps, but definitely don't need. 

Fulfillment comes in so many other forms.  And that's where I'm at right now.  I've picked myself up and moved to a part of the province/country/world that means something to me.  I've landed a job back in the industry that means something to me.  I am exploring the mountains that mean something to me.  And, I'm writing about it...which also means something to me!

This also means something to me:  It is a sign that stands at the western entrance to Kootenay National Park.  It is a sign whose message has remained with me since I first saw it back in 1987 (when I worked in Banff for the summer).  It completely describes my sentiments.  It also brought tears to my eyes when I touched it this past Sunday.

The mountains have brought peace to me.  I am so grateful to know just what it is in life that brings peace to me.  I've worked hard to figure it out.  And this sign is proof of the reward.

Happy Tuesday, Everyone.

Simply Beautiful

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

SIMPLY BEAUTIFUL

Yesterday after work, myself and two (younger) colleagues/room mates drove into Yoho National Park to investigate a waterfall.  The photograph above was taken at Wapta Falls.  Yes, the photograph was taken by yours truly.  The photograph was not edited or photo-shopped.  That is Mother Nature in her finest form.

Isn't it splendid?

In case you haven't already guessed, I love the mountains!  And to have such beauty mere minutes away from where I am based for the summer is a dream come true.  Perhaps on my next day off I will have to seek out my favourite sign, photograph it and then write to y'all about it.  It is a sign whose message has stuck with me for over 30 years. 

Happy Wednesday, Everyone.

Yesterday Was My Birthday

Friday, May 18, 2018

Yesterday was my birthday.

Happy Birthday to Me!

It is no big deal to say that I am 53 years old.  After celebrating with a group of new-found friends from work yesterday, all of whom are at least 15 years younger than me, I am not shy about proclaiming my age.  I am quite proud of my age.

I am 53, and I feel fine.

It has been clearly proven over the past few days, as I settle into my new routine at my new workplace, that I have made the right decision.  Every single detail of this new life of mine feels so right.  Transporting myself to a different, yet highly familiar, region in order to take on a new, yet highly familiar, position was definitely the right thing for me to do.  I feel invigorated, refreshed, enthusiastic, optimistic and am solidly in a ‘nothing can go wrong’ frame of mind.    

Isn’t it interesting how, once you remove yourself from a burdensome situation, you realize just how oppressive that situation truly was?  With no offence whatsoever intended for my invaluable Squamish tribe, I now appreciate how much that town was getting me down.  Moving on to a different location (one of my choosing), to take on a new responsibility, was just what I needed.  I have cut the metaphorical umbilical cord to that coastal mountain town.  I now look appreciatively upon the interior mountain town which lies at the confluence of the Kicking Horse and Columbia rivers.  

My new work situation could not be more ideal.  I am in heaven being amongst rafting gear once again!  It has been years since I’ve hauled a rowing frame and hefted a rolled-up raft.  A part of my soul, wrapped up for years with such gear, is now free to soar again.  I love it.  And within 48 hours, I will be back on the river, paddle in hand, ploughing through rapids and getting side-swiped by waves.  Yee haw.  Bring it on!  Some of my younger colleagues have never rafted before.  It is rather fun being the older and more experienced person in the group.

Rather than reporting to a cubicle, and having to sit at a desk for 8 hours per day, my job requirements this week involved transforming a winterized and sleepy compound into a lean, mean, highly organized and ‘ready for fun’ river base.  I have been scrubbing, unpacking, cleaning, stacking, relocating and organizing, none of which required me to sit down!  My feet have been stood upon continuously every working day so far.  It is absolutely divine.  I am not meant to sit at a desk doing nothing else but stare at a screen.  I am meant to move around, contribute and be part of a thriving establishment that prides itself on offering high quality fun.

I have followed my heart.  Such a decision has not disappointed me.  It has reinforced that my decision to shake up my life was the correct decision to make.

I hope you follow your heart, too.  Make your life the best it can be.

I think I’ll walk out my front door and breathe in some fresh morning mountain air.

Happy Friday, everyone.

Happy Mother's Day, To Me!

Sunday, May 13, 2018

Happy Mother's Day, To Me!

I am here.  The official check in took place yesterday afternoon at 4pm.  I met my employers at Wild Water Adventures and got a tour of the river base.  It may be quiet right now, but it will turn into a hive of activity soon enough with enthusiastic rafters, top notch guides and a riverbase crew that will help keep everything ticking over nicely.  I have every confidence that we will all have an absolute blast together this summer.

Apparently my official title is 'Reservations Manager', with the unofficial title of Adventure Mom.  I'll take both, thank you very much.

I can now say without hesitation that I am back in the rafting industry.  The preliminaries are complete (job offered and accepted), and now I am here to actually get to work.  Today is my first work day in goodness knows how long (16 months?).  I've packed a lunch and 3 litres of water 'cuz I haven't a clue how long we will be at the base putting everything together.

Two momentous returns have been made in my life recently.  A return to the rafting industry, and a return to The Rockies.  I have to say that everything feels amazingly right.  Walking through the riverbase yesterday, seeing the gear, was so familiar.  I know this business.  I lived and breathed it and raised my children in it (both before and after their childhood on the ocean).  And the Rockies, just the same as they did back in 1987, welcomed me and made me feel loved.

To top it all off and put the icing on the cake, Golden and the Columbia Valley knocked my socks off!  Yesterday, as I drove through town to do some exploring and grocery shopping, I marvelled at how this small mountain town made me instantly feel comfortable.  I think I will really get to like this place.  The Columbia Valley is massively wide and surrounded by mountain ranges that carry off far into the distance.  I adore the setting.  It is a mountain town, but it is not closed in by the mountains.  There is such a feeling of wide open space. 

Spring is just popping out here (compared to the coast which popped a month ago) and the smell of cottonwood floats in the air.  I love that I can enjoy two springs this year!

Everything feels right.  This mother is very happy and content.

Now to put on my grubby clothes and help get a riverbase unpacked!

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there.

Aren't we wonderful?!

On The Road

Friday May 4, 2018

I am officially on the road!

The town I lived in for the past nine years, and for a total of 17 years, is now firmly located in my rearview mirror (the town, that is, not the people in that town!).  I broke free, and it feels marvellous.

A few kilometres beyond the townsite, I stopped at a roadside lookout which commanded a spectacular view of the town, valley, river and surrounding mountains.  I collected my phone, travel mug full of tea, and a new journal given to me from a girlfriend, perched myself on a concrete block and looked out, one last time, upon a town that was home for so long.  Needless to say, many tears were shed.

I was actually surprised at the emotion that bubbled up, or rather the depth of emotion that bubbled up.  That I would cry was not unexpected.  I felt the tears building over the past week.  The surprise was in the sobs rising from deep down inside my core.  While my new world took shape these past four years, and a strong foundation was built for my children and myself, I remained geographically stationary.  This step of changing my geographical location is truly the final step in my recovery and reclamation of myself.  I am moving on to somewhere new out of choice, out of emotional necessity, and out of pure desire.  This is what I want for myself.  This is what I need for myself.  Again, it is all about breaking free.  So of course, there were tears.

The end of my marriage came about in three stages:  First, on the day that I physically left my husband (July 18, 2014); second, on the day the divorce was finalized (February 22, 2016); and third, on the day I drove out of Squamish toward my new life (May 2, 2018).  Sitting on that concrete block two days ago, sobbing out loud to those oh so familiar mountains, I said my final good-bye to the man I married back in 1994.  My life has now completely moved away from anything that we shared. No longer will I live in the town where we were newlyweds, raised a family and built a business.   I am venturing out into new territory that only I am exploring.   My companions this time, rather than a husband and children, include a cute, cuddly polar bear (see photo above) and several other small yet highly significant stuffed animals.  With these, I will travel new roads and old roads, see new sights and old sights, and put the final pieces in place for my life.

I am 52 years old, and I feel mighty fine.

One More Sleep

Tuesday, May 1, 2018

ONE MORE SLEEP

Tonight is my last sleep in my own bed, in my own apartment.  At least my last sleep here for a few months.

Tomorrow morning, I load up my loveable Jeep and start driving eastward toward the Canadian Rockies.

The day of departure has finally arrived.

This 52-year old woman (eghads, soon to be 53!) is hitting the open road.

I knew this day would come when the job offer was accepted way back in January.  I have been chomping at the bit for four months to get this show on the road.  My patience, admittedly, has run out.

Tomorrow I will watch as the town in which I have lived for the past nine years disappears in my rearview mirror.  In a blink of an eye, Squamish will fade into the background.  It is time for me to relocate.  I need to dig my heels into new soil, walk new trails, look at new mountains.

I have lived a total of 16 years in this town.  I need someplace new to call home.  The beauty that so many people ooh and aah over here in the Sea To Sky Corridor is mostly lost on me now.  What I need now is simply 'new'. 

Several girlfriends have described my upcoming summer adventure as a retreat of sorts.  Besides upholding the responsibilities of a fulltime job, I will have only time to concentrate on me.  All other typical responsibilities of my life will fade, like the town, in the rearview mirror.  Of course, my children will text and call with questions and updates, but the daily grind of being Mum will not be present. 

I am so looking forward to taking care of just me.  Of having the space to commune only with myself.

I need this adventure, this summer.

It is to be the summer of the 3 R's:  Rivers, Rockies and Writing (ignore the silent 'w', please).

But, for now, right at this moment, it is time to sleep.  I must wake up feeling refreshed, ready and raring to go!

Look out Rockies, I'll be that much closer to you this time tomorrow.

Happy May 1st, everyone.

Hello, Pacific!

April 3, 2018 (Aboard the Star Princess cruise ship)

I am back out on the open ocean.

It may be a gigantic cruse ship upon which I float, but float it does on the salty Pacific waters.

How do I feel?  How is it to be back out on waters that I have sailed?

It feels fantastic!

The ocean wind that whips the face, leaving its salty remnants upon my skin, has bought me home.

It seems as if I have two homes; two places where I feel comfortable and at peace.  The mountains, and the ocean.  Who would have thought it?

The Mighty Pacific is shining in all her late afternoon glory.  The swell is calm (although it is difficult to gauge from eight cruise-ship- decks up), and all looks fair and friendly.  She is welcoming me back.  I feel her power.  She knows I respect her.  She knows she humbled me years ago.  She knows.  She knows.  And, I know, too.

It is, however, a slightly different comfort than the alpine.   I love the alpine.  I do.  My soul soars when I wander the alpine.  It is a fresh and lively adoration.  It is a place I have sought out for myself.  No one else took me there.  I longed for it in my core.

The ocean was shown to me by someone else.  Another individual brought me to the ocean and introduced me to her.  I did not bring myself to the ocean.  That is one difference.

Another difference is that I have been forever humbled by the ocean.  I have yet to be humbled by the mountains.  I have yet to be in a tumultuous alpine situation that has put me at risk.  I have not had to say to the mountains “It is not my time to die”, as I have with the ocean.

The awe, respect and unequivocal admiration I hold for the power of the mountains is no different for the ocean.  Both are so very much the same, yet slightly, and pleasingly, different.  

What brings me to the ocean today?  How do I find myself on a cruise ship?  A Princess cruise ship?  My 84-year old father admitted several months ago that he was no longer up to travelling; an announcement that caused great consternation for my 80-year old mother who is still keen to pull out her passport and pack a bag.  As a good daughter would, I volunteered to be my mother’s travel companion.

As cruising (a la cruise ship, not a la blue water cruising) is the most logical form of travel for an octogenarian, research indicated that a 7-day cruise from Los Angeles to Vancouver, appropriately named the Pacific Wine Country cruise, would have us travel in the same time zone and have me back home in time to pack up and head out for a 5-month contract in the Rockies.

It is sheer coincidence that this cruise will offer a reverse order of some of the ports of call my family made while cruising southbound along the coast of North America.

We departed from Los Angeles an hour ago, with the late afternoon sun still in the sky.  Tomorrow morning will have us anchor in Santa Barbara for a day of Spanish cultural exploration.  I can't wait to be back in Santa Barbara.  My camera and I are going to have such fun.

A full 36-hours at sea will bring us into San Francisco for sunrise and another full day at port.  The second day at sea will bring us farther north to Astoria.  Then it will be time for the return into BC waters via the mighty Juan and beautiful Georgia (Juan de Fuca and Georgia Straits respectively) for a day in Nanaimo (of all places!) and a quick overnight passage into Vancouver.  A pretty nice itinerary all round.

We have acquainted ourselves somewhat with the endless array of amenities onboard.  Food galore (I think there are at least 5 dining rooms and countless other food establishments depending upon your gastronomic desires...pizza, hamburgers, 24-hour buffet, ice cream, pastries).  I haven't a clue how many bars and lounges there are!

This is a very different style of cruising than the style I know!

This is nautical enjoyment on a different level, but one that I can adapt to for the next seven days.

Bon Voyage.

52-Year Old Adventures!

Friday, April 20, 2018

I am going on an adventure.

This 50-something-divorced-mother-of-three-young-adults is going on an adventure.  I will be in the grand company of Me, Myself and I for five whole months.  As one of my kids exclaimed the other day, "Mum is finally leaving home".

As you know, the past four years (four!) brought about many changes in my life.  I left my husband of 20 years, established a new home base for my family of four, launched myself into a new industry in order to pay the bills, reconnected with just about every woman I have ever known in my life, and, not surprisingly, had a complete and utter emotional meltdown.

From deep down in the emotional trenches, I clawed my way out, dealt with tumultuous emotions, wrote a memoir manuscript, got sad, got angry, gained clarity, and finally made peace with it all.  2017 was one heck of a year.

By the end of the summer, after writing continuously for five months (and spending some amazing time in the mountains), I proudly declared what was important to me and what was important for me to have in my life.  Children, girlfriends, mountains, nature, honesty, laughter and love being the primary and uncompromising components.

The question of how best to pay the bills became yet another component upon which I refused to compromise.  For most of my adult life I worked in the Adventure Tourism industry.  Shortly after moving to Vancouver from Toronto, post university, I worked for an expedition river rafting outfit.  It was at this outfit that I met the man I eventually married.  For eight years we successfully operated our own river rafting outfit directly from our dining room office and driveway.  Then we went sailing.  Upon returning to the same town after eight years on the Pacific, the rafts were dusted off and launched back onto the river.  In 2014, after five years of business re-establishment, I left my husband.

The post-marital, two-year foray into the automotive industry made one thing abundantly clear to me:  I wanted, and needed, to be back in the adventure tourism industry.  For it is within the adventure tourism industry, specifically the river rafting industry, that my heart belongs.   It is also within the rafting industry where my values allign with how I earn my money.

A project undertaken at the end of 2017 attempted to get me back into the industry I loved so much (heck, my children were raised in the rafting industry!).  I had successfully managed my own rafting outfit for 12 years.  Surely, I had some marketable skills for another outfit; skills for which they would be willing to pay.  The rafting industry in British Columbia is pretty big.  There are many rivers within our beautiful province.  The question was where exactly would I like to work?  What part of the province held the biggest draw for me?  The answer was so utterly obvious:  The Rockies!

After sending out letters of introduction and resumes to various outfits, I secured a contract that returns me to an area of the world I hold very dear.   In less than two weeks, I will load up my highly reliable Jeep with all the personal and outdoor gear needed for a summer in The Rockies!  I am going back to the river and I am going back to the mountains that mean so much to me.  Look out Kicking Horse...here I come.

Since stepping into the world of 'being my own woman again', I have held nothing back.  I have exposed myself to the core and realized that all I really want in life is to be true to myself.  To do, to think, to feel how I want.  No compromises.  No second guesses.  Just straight forward and succinct honesty.  This is how the rest of my life is to be.

What is important to me now, as a 52-year old (!), is to break free.  Break free of my current geographical position; break free of daily motherhood demands and expectations (no offense, kids); break free of the chapter of my life that has long closed out and into a world where I have only myself to think about.

I am 52-years old and I am breaking free.

Yahoo!

The next five months are all about me.  Me, me, me, me, me.  What I want to do.  Where I want to go.  Experience what I want to experience.  And only be accountable to myself (and my employer, of course, when I'm working).

I can hardly wait.

Every so often we have to shake up our worlds, or even turn it completely upside down.  Sometimes we may shake up our worlds ourselves, sometimes it is involuntarily thrust upon us.  Either way, at some point, it will be in our own best interest to seize this amazing opportunity.  Life isn't over because I am divorced.  Heck, no.  This is my second chance.  I am going for it with eyes and mind wide open.  I can hardly wait!

My departure date is May 2nd.  I am taking 10 days to explore the open road between my home town of Squamish and my new town of Golden, BC.  I am going to stop when and where I want, take myself for walks, take lots of photographs and write about it all.

So please stay tuned for the (hopefully) hilarious summer adventures of this 52-Year Old Woman.

Happy Friday, everyone.

(this photo was taken by somebody else)

50-ish And Feeling Fine

Friday, March 30, 2018

Since posting began 3 1/2 years ago, the name of my blog has evolved, properly reflecting how I felt at different points in time. 

Initially, "49 And Feeling Fine" suited my life (and blog) to a T.  I was 49 years old when the first words were typed.  And, indeed, I felt fine!

Then, as time went on and personal matters were approached, examined, analyzed (and I turned 50), "Strong As Steel" better reflected my frame of mind.  A steel inner core upheld me while my past was torn apart.

After a good solid year spent reflecting on the past two-and-a-bit decades, I excitedly look forward to new and upcoming adventures.  Although my steely inner core will forever strengthen and bolster me, it now seems a bit too cold, a bit too rigid, a bit too serious and a bit too in-your-face for how I feel today.

Today, I laugh, smile and gaze up at all sorts of amazing and wonderful examples of beauty.  I feel light-hearted and full of optimism.  It is now time for the blog title to evolve once again.

Today, who I am is properly reflected in "50-ish And Feeling Fine".

I hope you are fine as well.

Questions and Answers

Tuesday, March 27, 2018

A few months ago, while visiting a girlfriend, a book was brought to my attention.

Have you heard of The Book of Answers, by Carol Bolt?

Well, my goodness, it is simply amazing.

This is how the book works:

First, concentrate on a question which requires an answer; an answer that will offer you some sense of inspiration or direction.  Then, while holding the book between your two hands, pose that question to the book.  Next, run the pages along your thumb and when the time is just right, stop at that particular page.  Look at the words written on that particular page.  There is the answer to your question.

Clever, isn't it?

This past Christmas many girlfriends received The Book of Answers from yours truly.  Life is full of questions and sometimes we need help finding the answers.

Let me give you an example.  Today, I asked the following question to the book:

               Will I return to the manuscript?

The answer I randomly came upon stated the following:

               Keep An Open Mind

That, to me, was very encouraging.  My interpretation was that yes, I should keep the door open and continue to work (at whatever pace) on my memoir manuscript.  That I should not simply give up on it.

Lately, I have taken to writing down my questions and answers.  It has turned into a daily exercise.  If nothing else, it gets the neurotransmitters firing about various possibilities.

I highly recommend trying it for yourself.

Do it more than once a day.  Do it as many times as you like.  Apparently, it makes a great parlour game at dinner parties!

I plan to take my book with me when I head out on an adventure later this spring (more about that particular adventure tomorrow).  I will be meeting new people, in a somewhat new, yet familiar, environment.  This book will be a great ice breaker with colleagues and new friends, and a guiding force during this time of independence. 

The most valuable lesson, I think, is to keep asking questions; keep wondering what is going on in your life, and what might go on in your life (and what did go on in your life...aye, there's the rub!).   Be curious.  Coming upon the answers to your questions is so incredibly enlightening and satisfying.  To finally figure out the answers to some of Life's more daunting questions is eye-opening, mind-opening and likely to put a huge smile on your face.

I'm smiling right now.

Happy Tuesday!