CalinaDawn

In 1990 the Australian hard rock band ACDC released it’s hit single “Thunderstruck”, the lyrics of which my 8-year-old self firmly believed were,
MONDAY!!!! Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah
TUESDAY!!!! Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah
WEDNESDAY!!!! Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah

I am not kidding. Very embarrassingly, it was a false belief that went completely unchecked by me for many years. Later as a teenager, upon hearing a group of other people sing out loud to the song in unison, it finally dawned on me that the lyrics were not in fact a clever way to teach kids the days of the week, but actually were about some dudes partying with strippers in Texas. It was a shocking realization.

It was a mistake I admitted to no one for years. Then one weekend I was away with a bunch of friends at a cabin and everyone started discussing commonly mis-heard lyrics. As the group began sharing their own grossly inaccurate interpretations of song lyrics, I began to feel like I might be in a safe enough environment to finally admit my own shame. Especially because it seemed to me that some of my friends mis-hearings were even more ridiculous than mine.

For example, one of my friends had believed the words to U2’s “Mysterious Ways” were not about falling in love with a stunning woman moving mysteriously, but instead a ballad a about a different kind of female sensation, one that came instead from SeaWorld and went, “Shamu the mysterious whale…”. Seemed like a fair mistake.
Then another friend of mine must have over listened during the dinosaur module in elementary school because she thought the “da da dat-da” part of The Proclaimers “I’m Gonna Be” (500 Miles) song was saying, “Pterodactyl! Pterodactyl!”.
A third friend also admitted that he had thought that Annie Lennox hadn’t been “walking on, walking on broken glass” but was, “walking on the road to get back…”. It was at this point I realized I was in good company and was finally able to divulge my deep dark ACDC secret. That might have been a bad choice however seeing as how I’m the only one all these years later who is still being made fun of for my lyrical confusion. Hardly fair.

Now as you are all jumping to conclusions about the IQ level of myself and my friends, you should know (at least as the other three go), that these humans are all actually high functioning and I would say now above averagely successful people. Well at least they can all tie their shoes and don’t spend their days drooling into a bucket. I myself admittedly do prefer slip-on shoes but can still pull off a haphazard bow if I have to.
Let’s be honest, most people can likely recall a misconception or false belief they later discovered was totally wrong. Maybe you thought chocolate milk came from brown cows, that paper was made from slicing wood very, very thin, or that if something was a nice dark blue color it was “Maybe? Blue”. The point being, at one point in our lives we have all stumbled upon an untruth that we had previously believed to be 100% fact.
This all has me thinking about what current misconceptions I might still have that I don’t even know about. I think we all have a few long held unexamined beliefs that might be working against us. Some of these beliefs might have been implanted within us at a young age and are holding us back in areas of our lives and acting like roadblocks between us and our desires.
It is common for people to still be carrying around an unchecked false belief from childhood experiences. Or maybe they have adopted a core value a very long time ago but have yet to realize it no longer matches who they now are and the life they are wanting to live today.
Carrying around some of these false beliefs about ourselves and the world around us is sort of like not updating our hairstyles or clothing from what we had two decades ago.
Some of the common mis held beliefs kept by many are things like; “Success only comes with great sacrifice”, “All men are dogs”, “Good things don’t last”, “The best years of my life are behind me”, “It’s in my genes…”, “People can’t be trusted”, and “Money is the root of all evil”.

The interesting thing about false beliefs like this is that as long as we continue to believe them, life will provide us evidence that they are true. For example, if you intrinsically believe you are an unlucky person, then in everything you experience you will continue to build a case for that being accurate. Every time something doesn’t go the way you want it to, you will attribute it to the fact you just have bad luck. This is because a belief, regardless of whether it is one that benefits us or not, colors the way we see our entire lives.
What I have noticed about many of the people that I have observed, those that I consider to be the those that are “following their bliss”, is that they all have challenged and found a way to release their false beliefs about themselves.
It seems to be the case that their greatest success on the road to following their bliss came from transforming old limiting ideas of themselves into ones that benefited them.
How do you do this? Well I think that we can sense we have stumbled onto a false belief because it doesn’t feel good when we think it. For example, I can recognize that the thought, “I have bad luck” is both a limiting thought and an untruth about myself because it feels terrible when I think it. That bad feeling is the very important clue that I’ve just brushed up against one of my own mis-interpreted lyrics, and if I’m paying attention, I can use it as an opportunity to alter it.

One of the most powerful concepts that is exceedingly useful where I have discovered a bad feeling, thought or belief, comes from a book I read called A Course In Miracles.
It is an extremely simple idea and what it suggests is that whenever you notice you have encountered a negative belief you just have to offer yourself the thought,
“I am willing to feel differently about this.”
That’s it! I know it seems way too overly simplistic, but the course says that just by admitting to ourselves we don’t like the way we are feeling, and then acknowledging that maybe there is a possibility of seeing the situation differently, we create just enough space for a better belief or thought to surface.

The Course says that when we are stuck on any kind of negative mental loop we can offer the thought: “Perhaps there is another way of looking at this, what do I have to lose by asking?”
What I have noticed about myself is the more aware of my feelings I have become, the less willing I am to spend much time in the ones that don’t feel good. Throughout the day I will catch myself in a bad feeling moment, and it can be anything from anger at other drivers in traffic, to resentment towards a family member for something that was said, but in either case I will recognize that I am upset and that I don’t like the way I’m feeling about it, but sort of am stuck in the feeling. It is almost like the thoughts have a mind of their own and are almost addictive in nature, sort of like having one of those songs mentioned above stuck in my head and I just can’t shake it. It is in those situations that I find this concept really works.
For example,
When you are tired of being angry at the same person: I am willing to feel differently about this person.
When you have caught yourself having negative thoughts about your body: I am willing to feel differently about my body.
When you are hurting over a memory of the past: I am willing to see this memory differently.
When you are looking in the mirror and you see something about your body you don’t like: I am willing to feel differently about this.
When you catch yourself thinking, “Nothing ever works out for me.”: I am willing to feel differently about that.

I find that most often when I offer the “willing to feel different” statement, (if I am honestly willing to feel differently), somehow something shifts and I almost always at least feel better and occasionally the entire outer situation will even change.
I think it works because it is a form of surrendering the old to make way for the new and improved. The whole point is that you just need the tiniest bit of willingness to see the situation differently for it to work.
What if this entire time those things we have been thinking that haven’t been making us feel good and that have also have been keeping us stuck, are all actually wrong. It is like for years we have been hearing the song and knowing on some level that Elton John in all likeliness did not actually record a hit single about the star of Who’s The Boss, but until we were willing to admit we might have been wrong, we just couldn’t hear anything about that tiny dancer.
Afterall, perhaps there is another way of hearing it? And more importantly what do you have to lose by asking?

 

Warning this one is not about poo or really that funny at all.
There, you’ve been prepared.
Today is a strange day. It marks the five year anniversary of when my husband left while I was five months pregnant with our daughter Locklyn. I bring it up only because something else very significant is happening today. I learned this morning that my aunt who is in the final stages of her stage four metastasized breast cancer is now undoubtedly in the last hours of her life.
I strongly believe that the majority of our power as an individual is always in the present moment. It is for that reason that I try to rarely look back and as is said, “tarry not with yesterday”. I do not see an advantage in constantly revisiting old painful memories especially when those events actually became such a great catalyst for the new life I have now been able to create.
Despite how difficult, bewildering, and challenging that time of my life was, I can now say that I have come to a place where I have almost only 100% complete appreciation for what happened most of the time. It became the bouncing off place for every good thing and experience I have had since.
Maybe it as Kahlil Gibran says, “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.”
When my ex-husband left it was a complete shock to everyone, including me. Wade and I had grown up together, been friends for more than a decade before we ever dated, and at the time I was under the impression that we were happily married. So as to not lose the intention of this particular blog I will not get too into those details except to say, that you shouldn’t hate that guy! He did absolutely the best he could with the knowledge and understanding he had at the time. In fact, he is still one of my favorite people. One of the things I am proudest of thus far in my life is the positive space he and I are now in as friends and co-parents of our spectacular child.
I promise at a later time to share parts of that journey and process with you, but for now I want to focus on my aunt.

As you can imagine when a husband leaves a pregnant wife it creates quite a ripple in ones family and social community. One of the things I have forever been deeply grateful for is the sheer quality and amount of amazing humans I have in my life. I will also say that that experience allowed me to feel more love from my friends and family than I ever could have anticipated and also ever feel capable of adequately repaying.
People came out of the woodwork to offer support. Girlfriends called daily to check on me, guy friends came a shoveled my walks, family members wrote letters of support, and I even discovered afterwards that people I had never met took time to send white light and pray for me. For the rest of my life I will feel such immense gratitude to those people and now forever after I will also know the incredible power and support that can come from community.
One letter in particular touched me to an extraordinary degree. My Auntie Teddy has not led what anyone could call an easy life. She herself also experienced adultery and being left with a small child. And so much more horrifically, later experienced losing both that child and her mother on the same day when they were tragically murdered. Again, I do not want to dwell on painful times, but rather continue to draw focus back to the light. The point being that when someone like my Auntie Teddy who has walked a path as difficult as she did and came through the other side writes you a letter, you read every word.

I would like to share with you the letter she wrote to me upon hearing from my mother that Wade had left and that I would be continuing the rest of my pregnancy alone. I feel like this letter is not only an incredible tribute to my aunt, who she is and forever will be, but also an extraordinary exposé of the power of human spirit. It reinforces that regardless of what may be removed from our lives we are always still left with so much to love.
Perhaps above all else I want to highlight the incredible power we each have to affect change in one another’s lives by simply communicating our love. My aunt had sent me this letter while I was still pregnant with Locklyn. I read it when I first received it, had a good cry over the power and beauty of the words and the obvious deep love with which they were written, and then for whatever reason I put it in the center console of my vehicle and then totally forgot about it.
More than three years later after my divorce was long settled and newer happier chapters of my life had begun once again, I for whatever reason found myself back in the midst of one of those horrible days. A day full of hurt and pain, the kind I had thought I had left behind long before with hours of forgiveness work and meditation. Seemingly out of nowhere that day, something had triggered me and I found myself overwhelmed with all those bad feelings again. You know the kind of day I mean, the ones where everything is bleak, life feels tragically unfair, you question whether anything is worthwhile at all, and your self pity is at a maximum.
I had just left my parents place after having a somewhat embarrassing ugly cry in front of them and I was walking back to my car. I remember thinking to myself, “I just want to know that everything is going to be ok,” and then at that very moment I looked down to see a small blonde angel doll lying next to the sidewalk in the snow.

I picked it up and realized it was a handmade angel my mom had given to my daughter and that we had lost weeks ago and had been looking for ever since. Now suddenly there I had found it, lying in plain sight, next to a sidewalk I had walked on dozens of times apparently without ever seeing it until that moment. I was immediately struck of course by the irony that I had just been reaching out to the heavens for support, and voila, an angel appeared at my feet. But because I was still in somewhat of a tiff and not yet completely satisfied that everything in fact would be ok, I still grumbled my way to my car.
After sitting and having another bit of a cry in my vehicle I reached to grab a Kleenex that I keep in the center counsel, and for the first time in literally years, I noticed the card my Auntie Teddy had written. I pulled it out and read,

My Darling Cali,
I wanted to write you a note to tell you what I wish you to know, deeply in your soul, in that unshakable place that isn’t rattled by rejection or loss, or ego, that you are worthy.
Trust in your worth, for you are attractive in the most important sense of the word.
I love you and always have. I have watched you develop over the years into the strong woman that you have become. You have the inner knowledge that gives you the grace to avail yourself the power of God and it shows in all you do.
Your smile is like sunshine, it lights up a room. You have a great sense of humor. You are warm enthusiastic, smart and honest. You are kind and caring. You will make a wonderful mother.
Cali, you are a beautiful woman, both inside and out.
We are here for you now and always. We love you and always will.
With love and blessings,
Uncle Bill and Auntie Teddy

Then I sat there, closed the card and cried again. But this time the tears were all of gratitude, full of astonishment of the universe and its brilliance. I had asked for support and I had found it in the most beautiful way. I felt incredibly loved in that moment, not just from my aunt who had taken the time to write such poignant and heartbreakingly caring words, but from life itself.

And now even further away in time from when my aunt wrote that letter I am still so affected by it. It has made me realize how important it is to extend love to one another. The ripple effects of doing so really can go on forever.
My parents along with my daughter and I made travel plans a few weeks ago to go to Vancouver Island to see my aunt this coming week. I had hoped to have an opportunity to say goodbye and thank her in person for the letter and emphasize how much what she wrote had impacted me since.

The last we heard as of a few hours ago, is that she is mostly unresponsive at this time. So I anticipate that I most likely will not get the opportunity to tell her this. I however believe that all relationships are eternal, and that upon her passing not only will she finally be fully reunited with her daughter and mother, but that she will also feel the full depth of my appreciation for her and for the courage she showed us all.

As I move through the rest of my life, I hope that I can pass on a semblance of the love and support I have received from those around me to others and pay it all forward.
For what ever it is that my bliss turns out to be, I know that once I fully find it, it won’t belong to me alone. Like love, anything that is truly valuable belongs to us all.
So my suggestion is that if you are lucky enough to already know what your bliss is, that you begin to share it. And if you have some love or support to offer to someone in your life right now that you do that as well. The love you send out might sit out there in the ethers, or in the console of a car, for years before it is fully appreciated or felt, but I truly believe that it will eventually make its mark.

And to my Auntie Teddy,
I thank you with all my might.

Post Script: Auntie Teddy passed away peacefully in the early hours of June 7th. Within hours of me writing the above late last night.

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
-Kahlil Gibran

 

My first experience of real travel, apart from family trips to Disneyland and such, was a high school group trip to England and Greece. We did three days in London and then ten in Greece. It’s funny the things you remember about trips like that. The memory that sticks out the most for me from that whole experience is that my friend Ryan was constipated the entire time that we were in Greece.
Like he didn’t “go”, not even once, for ten straight days. I sh*t you not. (that’s funny on so many levels).
The best part is that he is a pretty big guy, around 6’4 with a decent appetite to match and given that we were in a country notorious for its delicious cuisine, he just kept eating and eating, and none of the rest of us could figure out where it was all going.

By day eight, the news of his “failure to launch” so to speak, had made its way through our entire group. That afternoon, we were all sitting together in the lobby of our hotel in Mykonos when suddenly Ryan sat up right, looked around at all of us with a face expression of happy expectancy and declared to the room, “I think it’s coming!”
At which point he sprang from his chair and ran in the direction of his room. Now I am not sure why, but a few of us followed after him, and ran down just behind him through the corridor, perhaps with the idea of cheering him on through the door or something.
But alas, much to everyone’s (and especially Ryan’s) dismay, when we all rounded the corner we found poor Ryan not in his room, but instead sprawled out at the base of a three-step landing in the hallway.
He had miss stepped over the stairs and had endured a rather aggressive wipeout.
I will never forget him staring up at us all with a very dejected and forlonged look, as he said, “Its gone.”
We all bore the disappointment together.
Thankfully for Ryan, two days later and almost immediately after we landed at Heathrow airport for a stopover on our way back to Canada, he finally was able to “go”. It would seem that for whatever reason, (most likely the generous portions of Feta cheese), that his body had elected to put on a Greek poo strike.
So I know what you’re thinking, your all saying to yourself, “Cali are we really already back to poo stories?”
And yes, we are. And you know why? Well it’s for two reasons. One, because poo stories are the best, and two, because this story also reminds me that some of the most endearing and greatest stories in my life have come from travel.
Travel just has a way of opening us up. Of making life richer. Everything seems more vibrant when we are travelling. It’s almost as if we have access to better thoughts and that our mind works differently when we are outside of our normal routine and experiencing a new place.
This clearer thinking and more open-valved perception of life while travelling is a phenomenon that I have observed about myself for years. It is probably the main reason I decided to become a flight attendant, and also why I knew travel would be a big part of my year of “following my bliss.”

I can have a problem or a conundrum in my life and simply not seem to be able to find the solution, then go on a trip and sure enough while away something just shifts and I can finally see things in an entirely new and more beneficial light.
Last month before I left for my trip to Connecticut and New York, I had a few life queries that had been rolling around in my mind, that had seemingly been going in circles without a solution for quite a while.
I guess a hefty dollop of fresh Connecticut air with views of stunning sprawling estate homes, and a dash of electric buzz from the city that never sleeps, was the perfect recipe for my brains more productive thinking. Being distracted by all the sights and sounds got me out of my own way, and then when I wasn’t looking, some higher intelligence seemed to have snuck the solutions to my problems through the back door of my brain.
Quite honestly though, I don’t think we always have to get on an airplane or travel somewhere new to have access to better thinking. I think it has to do with us just getting out of our regular routines that does the trick more than anything. After all what is travel, but the stepping into the unknown with an attitude of positive anticipation? So maybe having a sense for adventure in our everyday life is all that’s required to open us up. I think anything that has us experiencing something brand new, seems to have great long-lasting effects on our consciousness.
I think that by exposing ourselves to new stimuli we can have access to new thoughts, and therefore remove old limitations, and then maybe we have a method to help transform our lives. There is a chance we can do this just by switching up some of our redundant daily patterns and habits. Something even as simple as choosing to drive a different way home from work or doing something outside of our usual comfort zone on the weekend, can trigger very different parts of our brain and help build new mental pathways.

A guy named Dr. Joe Dispenza wrote a book called, Breaking The Habit of Being Yourself: How to Lose Your Mind and Create a New One, which I love! In it he talks about how the way that we think, act, and feel has created our present reality. He says,

“If you want a new outcome, you will have to break the habit of being yourself and reinvent a new self.”

He also says that if you want to create a new life, then on a fundamental level you would either have to change some thoughts you think about yourself or your life, behaviors or habits that you continuously demonstrate, or feelings or emotional reactions that you have memorized.

“So if we want to change some aspect of our reality, we have to think, feel and act in new ways; we have to “be” different in terms of our responses to experiences. We have to “become” someone else. We have to create a new state of mind … we need to observe a new outcome with that new mind.”

There is a saying in Alcoholics Anonymous that goes, “Your best thinking got you here,” and I’ve also heard the same point made with Albert Einstein’s quote, “We cannot solve our problems with the same kind of thinking that we used when we created them.”
To me, both basically imply that to affect change in our lives, we have to allow our minds to change. And that might include a complete revamping of all our thoughts, feelings, and actions. An internal housecleaning so to speak.
I like the idea that we can consciously and deliberately re-wire our entire neural network, as Dr. Joe Dispenza suggests, through intended thought and meditation. Because as they say, “The neurons that fire together, wire together.” It’s science! And the science of synaptic transmission does actually suggest that we have an ability to literally re-wire our brain by changing the thoughts we think. Pretty cool.
Bottom line,
If your life feels constipated, why not try a fresh new experience to get things moving again!

 

 

 

In grade six I was a part of a very private and exclusive club. There were five members including myself, all girls. We called ourselves, “The Nice People”. We had a theme song and everything. I can’t remember the exact lyrics to our jingle, but I do recall that it had something to do with us all being exceptionally kind and very nice people.
Ironically, I also remember that about halfway through the school year there was an sixth girl who earnestly wanted to join our club. A group vote ensued, the result of which was an almost unanimous “no”.
Perhaps we did not have as clear of a grasp on what it meant to be a nice person as we thought?
Fortunately, there must have been some sort of impeachment process initiated after the vote because a few weeks later the tides turned, and we did decide to allow the newbie membership status. I’m not so sure I can say, lucky her.

Looking back, even though I recognize that it was pretty typical 12-year-old girl behaviour, I still cringe with shame when I think of it. The good news is however, that more than 20 years later I actually still know the majority of the girls in that club, and I am very happy to report that believe it or not, they all grew into really quite nice people. Looks like there might be hope for humanity yet.
If ever there was an appropriate setting for the Groucho Marx quote,

“Please accept my resignation. I don’t want to belong to any club that would accept me as a member,”

this might be it.

Against all odds of time and distance, and even prior to the inception of the not so nice, “Nice People Club”, one of those girls and I have remained inseparable best friends. In fact, as I write this now, I am on an airplane en route from Calgary to New York where she will be picking my daughter Locklyn and I up and driving us to her home in Connecticut. We will be spending the week with her, her husband and two little boys, and I couldn’t be more excited.
When put in the same grade one class, Simrin and I gravitated to each other immediately. By grade three we had become attached at the hip, almost as if we were each other’s shadows. We spent such an incredible amount of time together through all our elementary school years, that at points I swear we could almost read each other’s thoughts.
Simrin and I still talk today about how integral and impactful our extremely tight friendship was to shaping of each of our lives. And even after her family moved to Vancouver the summer after 7th grade, somehow we remained as close.

Despite the distance, continual visits and phone conversations kept our bond alive. We were in each other’s wedding parties, and she was an immense support to me through my divorce. And through all varying degrees of good and bad times, we have always had each other’s back. To the point that when I consider our relationship the term “friend” just does not cut it. Really the only word that comes close would be soulmate.
Now there’s a word that I’ve done quite a bit of pondering on. What is a soulmate anyhow? I used to think that it was strictly a romantic term. Something to be used just once in every lifetime when the stars align, cupid takes out his bow, and you finally encounter “The One”.
I had previously believed that this One, was not only predestined as my exact corresponding match on all levels of my being, but that he and I would meet and then thereafter exist forevermore in a state of utopic bliss. There would also of course be zero fighting, constant prolonged eyes gazing sessions, and all forms of wide eyed woodland creatures would be spontaneously drawn to us wherever we went. And for most other people there would also probably be periodic spontaneous sessions of melodic harmonized singing. Except not in my case, because my total tone deafness and piss poor pitch would actually just frighten away all of the adorable doe-eyed critters.

These days I have a fairly different opinion on the matter. I came to see that the entire universe is set up with a principal of abundance behind it. After all, if you look around this planet, or up into the vastness of the cosmos, it is pretty hard to find just one of anything. So, I sort of realized that each of us probably do not have just one soulmate either. More likely if life does mimic nature in its abundance, we probably have hundreds.
I also don’t think the romantic relationship has a monopoly on the term soulmate. I am fortunate enough to have not just Simrin, but also about a dozen other men and women in my life with whom that term feels appropriate because my connection with them seems so deep and meaningful. In each case it seems although we have always known each other, being around them feels like coming home, and life in their presence is just more vibrant. The best way I have heard this phenomenon described, is that with these certain people it is as though your “souls have resonance.” Almost like two resounding frequencies that just seem to move in a natural harmonic sequence with one another.
The most delightful part about seeing the soulmate principal in this way, is that because there are many and not just one, I have a feeling that fate will continue yielding these human gems to me over the course of my lifetime. In the past few years, and especially more so since I feel like I’ve really started to hit my happiness stride, I have met an ever-increasing number of these wonderful soul-siblings.
And I feel like I could say to each of them,

“How have we not just always known each other! You are like a song I’ve been humming for years that I didn’t think had lyrics, but now that I’ve met you I suddenly can hear all of the words!”

But I wouldn’t actually say that aloud to them right off the bat, because they would probably run off even faster than the woodland creatures did. I like to trick people into liking me first, let them become attached, then let them know how weird I am later.
I really like the idea that we all actually have multiple soulmates. I don’t really think we were ever meant to save all our love for just one person. Not only does doing that put a lot of responsibility and pressure on that person, and I don’t know about any of you, but I just feel like I have a lot more love to spread around. Certainly more than what one particular person can handle.
I am also leaning more towards believing now, that there is actually just one kind of big deep love. That it is maybe not this tiered system where there is “romantic love” that we offer to one person at a time, and then the other more general love (or whatever else is left over when we are done leaving lipstick kisses on someone’s face), which we reserve for everyone else.

I am really looking forward to my week ahead. This year of bliss that I am somehow already one quarter of the way through, just wouldn’t be complete without some time spent with Simrin. I intend to spend some of that time bouncing some of these soulmate ideas off her, relishing the vibrancy of our friendship, and also undoubtedly spending a large amount of the visit laughing so hard I cry, and maybe accidentally peeing myself, as is par for the course when she and I are together. I promise to report back with all my new life revelations afterwards.

I hope this week that while all of you are out there moving about in your worlds, by some strange happenstance there is suddenly a meeting or an intersection in your day where two lives collide, followed perhaps by this wonderful and unshakable sense of familiarity. Should that happen, I think you would do well to say to this new friend, “You know, I just have this funny feeling about you, as though the origin of this relationship is rooted elsewhere, perhaps in another time and space or alternate existence… and I think we are going to be in each other’s lives forever.”
Or maybe don’t say anything like that, because that will undeniably terrify them. Instead possibly just internally recognize and appreciate the obvious connection and then just say,

“Hey wanna get a drink or a slurpee, or start a club together or something?”

 

 

 

“If you’re not willing to lose every friend you have over a board game, you’re not playing hard enough.”

I don’t just like games, I LOVE THEM. Board games, word games, drinking games, outdoor lawn games, trivia, you name it. Basically anything that I can get my hands on, and people to play with, I will do it. And I WILL WIN! Okay often I will win, or at least as the quote above says, or I’ll lose friends trying. Actually, I am fortunate enough to have attracted a group of friends who mostly all share this same strange affinity. And as you might imagine, when we get together it is LOUD.
Last year I had a game night at my house and invited a friend who had never been to my place before. We were mid-way through a I lively game of Pictionary when he arrived at the door.
“Well I wasn’t sure if I had the right address,” he said, “until I opened my car door and could hear Cali screaming, Ghostbusters! Ghostbusters! GHOSTBUSTERS!!!!, from the street…”
In my defense that was the correct answer, and I was just concerned my teammate might not hear me before the timer ran out. It goes without saying that if any of you have insulated homes and need an extra player the next time you’re playing charades, “Who ya gonna call?” ME!
Lately my four-year-old daughter Locklyn and my mother and I have been doing a lot of jigsaw puzzles. I tell myself its good for Locklyn’s brain development and it helps me feel less guilty about all the screen time I allow her which has such a bad rep among child psychologists these days. There’s also just something about puzzling (yes I believe it can be used as an adjective) that I really enjoy. I like it because while it takes a certain amount concentration, you can still chit chat while you work away and it is both calming and satisfying at the same time.

My grandparents did them often. My grandmother had a dining room table that almost always had a puzzle in progress on it. She would sit focused on the puzzle for long stretches of time, looking for the correct pieces to fit the right spot, patiently letting the picture come together bit by bit. My grandpa was perhaps less patient, he would walk through the room, then stop quickly to stare, grab a piece and try to place it. If it fit right away he’d say his loud “Ahhh-Ha”, as if to mock my grandmother for his immediate success, then move onto the next piece. But if that piece’s place was slightly less obvious he’d quickly lose interest and be off to his next task in the house. This was their way, opposite in almost every sense but still making it work. I’m probably a bit of a mix of the two of them. I don’t mind working at something for a while but I also tend to get frustrated if the whole picture doesn’t come together right away.
Jigsaw puzzle pieces are strange sometimes. Occasionally you’ll have a piece and swear its meant to go in a particular place. The colours match, the shape seems right and you can even sort of push it into the spot for a minute or two to try and convince yourself it’s a perfect fit. But any time you look up closely it’s immediately obvious that it just does not go there. “Humph” you might say if you are like me when you finally acknowledge you have the wrong piece and must remove the imposter.
The good thing about puzzles however is you know that no matter what that the right piece is there somewhere. Hasbro would get a lot of bad press if it started including only 499 of its 500-piece puzzles in every box.

It is harder to extend the same trust in life. We hope for the perfect fit in terms of a life partner, a job, the solution to a health problem, or a passion to pursue is out there but after a few wrong fits I think we all start seriously considering the possibility that the missing piece just wasn’t included in our box.

There is also a very different sense of urgency we get when we are trying to get the whole picture of our life to come together that is not present when we sit to do a puzzle. Puzzles are fun and we let ourselves savor the process. Life seems serious and usually more about just getting to the right end result, rather than about enjoying the journey.
Life is also way more of a moving target. It is as though the picture we are aiming to create keeps constantly altering. I once really wanted, (and for quite a while I had), the typical domestic life. I thought my ideal in the box picture would be me with a husband, three kids, a couple of pets, and a suburbia situated home with a two-car garage. Then I had a bunch of the pieces sort of go missing, and a few new ones added, and now I’m just not sure if that’s the picture I even want anymore.
For a while I was a little self-conscious that my picture wasn’t coming together in the same way that a lot of my friend’s picture seemed to be. It was like I was looking at their finished puzzles, trying to imitate what they had, but I couldn’t because I simply did not have the same pieces that they did.
It was like I was trying to do the traditional Thomas Kinkade print on the front of their puzzle box, when all the pieces in mine really belonged to a surrealist styled Picasso. Then when I stopped to look at the picture I was building, I realized there was no cozy country home covered in flowering vines, but instead a drunk looking lady with her nose in the wrong place. Good thing I was pleasantly amused at this discovery rather than disappointed. So, I finally just gave myself permission to, like Picasso, take a less conventional approach and just paint my life in my own style.

 

It reminds me of another one of the sayings I grew up hearing,

“Don’t compare your insides, to other peoples’ outsides.”

This is something especially valuable in todays world of social media, where everyone’s outsides seem to portray aspects we might feel are missing from our own. The reality is, we all feel insecure on the inside occasionally, no matter how good the picture might look from the outer view.
After all there are lots of different ways to put together a puzzle. Some people like to do the border first, gradually adding to edges until it all comes together. Other people like to pick one part of the puzzles picture and focus on completing that portion before tackling the next point of interest.
Some of us like to focus on a career, before getting into a relationship and starting a family, while others choose to work a little bit on every part all at once.
There really is no wrong way. It is interesting that puzzles are the one item at a game store that do not include a “How to play” or a rule sheet in the box. You get to pick your picture and put it together however you want.

However, if there were a few guidelines included in puzzle boxes and in life, I think a few of them might be:
• Do not try and force any of the pieces. Relax, everything you need is here.
• Confirm that the pieces you have, reflect the picture you are wanting to build.
• If part of the puzzle becomes frustrating, leave it for a while and work on something else.
• Don’t try and work on someone else’s puzzle, that’s for them to do.
• The contents of your box will make your picture perfectly, so don’t compare your picture to anyone else’s.
• It is important to stand back occasionally so that a broader view can give you the bigger picture and help you see how its all coming together.

 

 

 

I often get asked about the heritage or origin of my first name Calina, people assume it’s Spanish or Italian, and I’ve always just responded, “Oh no …it’s hippie.”
I grew up in what I’ve always referred to as a “New Age” household. My parents have both forever been interested in perusing what might be called a spiritual path. Their home typically smells of incense, there are crystals on table tops, and wind chimes in their backyard trees.
A giant raw wood bookshelf takes up the corner of their living room and is full of hundreds of books. There are the religious texts of all the major religions and denominations, as well as books on mysticism, reiki, law of attraction, meditation, spirit animals, dream interpretation, philosophy, anthropology, metaphysics, auras and basically any thing that would go into the general category of what a good friend of mine and I have coined as “frouffy-la-la-ness”.
Really its kind of shocking I turned out as normal as I did, (just kidding mom and dad). I still had a “normal” childhood full of regular kid things. I played sports, watched a lot of cheesy 80’s & 90’s sitcoms, and hung out almost exclusively with friends who came from more conventional upbringings. And so while I didn’t necessarily feel different from the other kids at school or soccer, there still was an ever-present undercurrent of something that I can only describe as another level of awareness, and a sort of subtle feeling of all things seemingly magical.
Overall I would say it was a pretty great way to grow up, as it gave me a unique vantage point of the world. Even though I think I’ve always been good at blending in with more mainstream or orthodox folk, I must admit that part of me still can’t help but get excited when I pass by a new age book store or crystal shop.
No, I have never had dreadlocks, and believe it or not, I don’t like the sensation of being high, but the full truth of the matter is, I do still really love to meditate. In fact, I do it daily. Why does that sound like I’ve just admitted to something inappropriate? Oh well, there it is, its out now. Yup I’m a closet meditator. Except I find closets themselves are confining, I actually prefer to do it on my couch. And almost without exception I would have to say it is the best part of my day.

 

Along with exercise, and of course the incredible circle of amazing people in my world, I attribute my meditation practice for getting me through every difficult thing I’ve experienced in my life. Including the mega big one I’ve mentioned before when my ex-husband/childhood best friend left me when I was pregnant with our daughter. In fact meditation not only helped me survive that experience but is also the reason I now see that experience as the most wonderfully pivotal, and positively beneficial event of my life to date.
And without getting to into to the entire concept of meditating too much, I basically think it works because it temporarily stops the noise and constant jibber jabber in my mind. For those of you who know how fast and constantly I talk, you can maybe imagine the way I think. Its often a serious case of the hamster on a wheel syndrome. All movement, no progress. To say I tend to over think things, is an aggressive understatement. That adage, “analysis to paralysis” defines me exactly. So trust me, when I sit to meditate my mind really enjoys the break.
I guess its sort of strange that even though meditating is something I do everyday, its not generally something I talk about that often. Maybe I’m afraid that it would alienate people in my life that aren’t as comfortable with the subject, or that there is some sort of stigma attached to it. Certainly, I’ve found it’s a topic that not everyone is receptive to. Which is totally ok with me. To each their own.
All of that is probably why I really enjoyed myself recently while I was in Arizona and I had the opportunity to spend a few days in the town of Sedona. Known in new age circles as a major spiritual mecca, Sedona is a place almost entirely populated by other “Frouffy-la-la’ers.”
If you haven’t heard of it, directly from Wikipedia, (don’t judge I’m a busy single mom and this is just easier.)

 

“Sedona is an Arizona desert town near Flagstaff that’s surrounded by red-rock buttes, steep canyon walls and pine forests. It’s noted for its mild climate and vibrant arts community. Uptown Sedona is dense with New Age shops, spas and art galleries. On the town’s outskirts, numerous trailheads access Red Rock State Park, which offers bird-watching, hiking and picnicking spots.”

 

Let me tell you, it is amazing and I relished every moment I got to spend there. Reminiscent to me of Alberta’s town of Banff, Sedona is visually captivating. But Instead of being nestled in the Rocky Mountains, the town is surrounded by giant gorgeous crimson rock formations. Everywhere you look is an incredible new vista. The rocky array also changes dramatically as you move around the area, becoming especially spectacular throughout the day as it is altered by differing angles of sunlight. Each new vantage point you gain shows you something totally different.
Sedona is also famous in the New Age community because it is said to be an energetic vortex. Yes, okay, now I know I’m getting pretty weird for some of you. I’m sure this sounds a little too “Beam me up Scotty!” What’s a vortex you say? Well lets for simplicities sake let the internet do the leg work for me once more.

“A vortex is a place, usually on or near an interesting rock formation, where people have reported feeling inspired by a beneficial source of energy. Sedona vortexes are thought to be swirling centers of energy that are conducive to healing, meditation and self-exploration. These are places where the earth seems especially alive with energy. Many people feel inspired, recharged or uplifted after visiting a vortex.”

And if you don’t buy into any of that, Sedona is still an absolutely beautiful place to visit and experience some incredible hiking. Annnnd get this, the entire downtown storefront area has free Wi-fi! Anecdotally I do also really recommend the delicious unique flavoured margaritas and salsa flight samplers at the 89Agave Cantina located in the heart of Uptown Sedona. #yum
A somewhat hilarious coincidence also occurred while I was in Sedona. One night we looked up to see a very peculiar moving light in the sky. It was large, brightly lit and moved slowly across the mountainous horizon. Now ill admit I’m fairly likely to jump at the UFO conclusion in most situations anyways, but seeing that in the night sky over Sedona was almost too much. Later I was very disappointed when we learned that instead of little grey-green aliens it was actually just Elon Musk’s SpaceX rocket. Still cool I suppose, but an abduction story would have been even better. I mean when in Rome right?!
If your wondering what my personal conclusion about the presence of a “vortex” in Sedona is, well it might be the hippie in me, but I have to say something pretty cool is happening there. I certainly felt extra uplifted, recharged and inspired the entire time. Could that have been because of the stunning scenic views and fresh air? Perhaps. Maybe the increased oxygen levels in my blood due to all the hiking could have caused some sort of a neurological euphoric effect. But one thing is for certain, I had some of the most vivid and lucid dreams I’ve had in a while there. I also noticed my usual hamster wheel thoughts had slowed down significantly and I enjoyed a new level of mental clarity too.

 

Either way, the only way you will know for sure is if you go there yourself. Id say the same goes for the meditation. There is a quote I love,

“All things move from the center to the periphery, and man is no exception.”

– Myrtle Fillmore

This quote reminds me of centrifugal force. That what is in you, that which is your essence, is always being expressed outward. Life is all ways spinning us around, and with that movement we get to see what we are made of. Sometimes we are happy with what comes out of us, sometimes it ain’t so pretty. Meditation is my best tool for liking more of what comes out of me. Especially when the going gets a little tough. Its like an internal house cleaning I can do everyday so that the me that goes out to meet the world is both more stable and a better reflection of the person I am aspiring to be.
There are as many ways to meditate as there are people, so I recommend if its something your interested in, that you try a few methods before you write the whole thing off as dumb.
If you try meditation, I promise you will not:
A. Levitate off the couch
B. See an alien
C. Feel compelled to start wearing tin foil hats
D. Give away all of your personal belongings and join a cult

 

 

When I began this years endeavour to try to discover and follow my bliss, I knew like any good researcher or person conducting an organized investigation, I should probably follow some sort of scientific method. After all, I am quite certain that Dr. Alexander Fleming didn’t discover Penicillin by sitting around eating cheese, (though it goes with out saying that if that job does exist, I think Id be really good at it). Instead, once life had put him in the place to ask a question, he then formulated a plan and a method of attack to discover the answer. So, I intend to follow a similar course.
The question I’m hoping to answer is clear. As mentioned before, I grew up hearing Joseph Campbells sentiment that if a person could discover and then commit to following their bliss, then they would get to live the glorious, happy and fruitful life they were always meant to. My thoughts on which have always been, “Ok great advice Joe, I would really love to transcend all my limitations and live a life of conscious rapture and excel in the things destined for me, wouldn’t everyone? But how the heck do I know what my bliss is?”
And where do you even start to try and figure that out? I mean given that we are all unique individuals, perfect “special snowflakes” if you will, mightn’t there be as many types of bliss as there are people? And is ones bliss a broad, general thing like being creative? Or more specific like being an artist? Or is it even narrower and more minute further still, like being an oil painter with an aptitude for texture and a glorious skill in rendering sunflowers? How do we find something if we don’t know its scope or its size?

“Is it bigger than a breadbox?”

And is it easier for some people to find their bliss then others? What if mine is buried way deep down somewhere, hiding under layers of self doubt or past traumas? Can I still find it, or is it too late for some of us?
As you can see, I have a lot of questions. Good thing I have a sneaking suspicion that my life might be setting me up to find some of the answers. Because as I was asking myself these questions it occurred to me that if I wanted a shot at discovering my own bliss, it would probably serve me to study and observe as many people as I possibly can who appear to be already living in theirs. Yay science!
And as it turns out, I am happy to report that there are more of them around then you would think. I found this out because last week I had an opportunity to go interview a few practitioners at one of my best friend’s wellness center in Calgary called Serenity Now Wellness.
The business was like an entire hive of blissful, impassioned people. I think maybe its because as humans we innately feel good when we are helping others to feel that way as well. Seems that there is an especially large group of blissful people in the health and wellness field. Its like that saying, “If you want to keep something, you have to give it away.” And it seems that many health and wellness practitioners have that concept locked down.
In one conversation, I was speaking to a Certified Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapist named Lucille, and as she was describing to me what Craniosacral therapy is and does, and I could tell right away just by the way the topic lit her up that she had obviously found her way on to the path of her bliss.

Craniosacral Therapy if your curious, is a form of bodywork consisting of very gentle finger and hand pressure upon the cranial bones and the sacrum. Practitioners use this soft touch to release restrictions in the craniosacral system to improve overall functioning of the central nervous system and release patterned stored trauma from the body’s tissues and fascia. Cool right?!
And what was especially neat to me about Lucille, is that as a practitioner of this healing process she was not only in her bliss, she was also helping her patients clear away mental and emotional debris that was preventing them from finding theirs.
In what Lucille calls a series of “unravelling’s”, with Craniosacral treatments the body begins layer by layer releasing stored stresses and blockages from past physical and emotional traumas.

Lucille says that Biodynamic Craniosacral practitioners like the word “listening”, as this form of intuitive healing allows those receiving a treatment to often experience an alleviation of multiple ailments, and overtime that they are also able to let go of older traumas held in deeper layers of their body or psyche.

 

“Often there is a trickle effect that takes place in the patient’s body and emotional centers as they are treated. In craniosacral we are working with the pattern of experience or dysregulation that shows up in a tissue, but not separating a tissue from an emotion that may also be stored in the body. In time with this craniosacral treatment, the tissue begins to unwind and release all of the aspects that may have been associated with the trauma.”

As I was listening to Lucille describe the value in helping people release embedded traumas from their bodies and experiences, and how gratifying that work was for her, it made me think of another of Joseph Campbells stories about when he was a professor at Sarah Lawrence University.
He said that often while in individual conferences with his students after class, he would be discussing their reading materials and studies and then eventually through engaged dialogue they would invariably touch upon some topic, some thing, or some tidbit of information that would cause the students eyes to light up. All at once he said their demeanour would change and Campbell knew that they had discovered the first hint or clue in finding their bliss. And this was exactly what was happening with Lucille as she spoke about her work.
It seems that when someone is on the scent of their bliss you can see them all the sudden fill with excitement, a new level of confidence and vitality enters their being, and it is as though they are allowing themselves a temporary break from any pre-existing limiting thoughts. It’s a powerful and palpable thing to witness, and as Joseph Campbell also says,

“The influence of a vital person, vitalizes.”

Campbell also goes on to say that the world often seems like a dark place, but we do have the power to brighten it. And that its not done by trying to move things around in our surroundings in some attempt to make the outward picture better, but instead for us each to discover individually what it is that lights us up on the inside. Meaning that we can bring the world alive again by being alive ourselves.

As I was trying to understand this process and how it might work, it occurred to me that while I do think each and everyone of us does have a bliss to discover, sometimes it may be buried a little deeper within us. Perhaps partially hidden if we have had traumas or issues distracting us from finding it, or other events that may be consuming the energy required for us to even look.
Sometimes we must release some things before we can unearth our bliss. Which made me wonder if I have a bit of releasing to do of my own past traumas. That seems a little overwhelming however, as there are layers of different experiences in my past, all building on one another. And many of those experiences although not positive at the time, created a wonderful bouncing off place for better things to come.
I’ve since concluded, especially after digesting more of my fantastic conversation with Lucille, that we can release the pain of past events while keeping the benefit of the lessons we may have learned from them.
It is very much like reading tree rings, or the study of Dendrochronology. Where scientists take a cross section of a tree trunk and by studying the rings they are able to discern almost everything about the life of the tree.

Each ring represents a growing season of the tree. Every layer accounting for both a year as well as revealing environmental details and climate events of that season. Scientists can see if there was adequate moisture, or if it was dry, if there was fire or smoke in the area, and even what type of parasite may have been prevalent at that time.
Looking back at the course of my life it occurred to me that my body and psyche are probably telling a story as well. Like almost everyone I have had ups and downs in my growing seasons. And if you were to take a cross section of my life there would be a lot of different layers each with a wide variety of events. Some amazing, positive and productive, and others more painful, stress filled or traumatic.
Either way, for better or worse, the layers have made up the core of who I am today. And I can’t go back now and adjust or change the events of the rings within me. Mostly because each season created a foundation for the one that would come next. I can however check in and make sure I’ve released the pain that might be still buried there.

I think now that the secret to the discovery of my bliss might lie in the cross section view of those rings. Little clues buried in the layers of my core. So I’m going to take some time and look a little more extensively through banding loops of my little internal world, see if there are any knots or fissures in the grain of my wood that I still need to untie, and then maybe I will get to see more clearly what the overall pattern has to show me.
It is maybe worth a few days pondering, and besides, I have always loved the sound of the word, arborist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m not good with names but I am great with drinks. Years after I quit bartending I can still remember all my regulars go to beverage choices.
There was bottle of Coors guy, who sold cars and peeled the label off of every bottle, always leaving a giant pile of shiny silver paper pieces in his place when he left. Shandy man, who was in his 70’s and had the most delightful Irish accent and an endless number of jokes and one liners. And greyhound drinking lady, who though she was lovely, would cause me to wince when she showed up on a busy night as it meant I’d have to find the time to painstakingly freshly squeeze her grapefruit juice when I was already barely keeping up with other drink orders.
These people and many others, coloured the years that I worked there with their personalities, lives, and stories, and I still wonder about them all often.
I had a favourite though. His name was David. He was an American music producer originally from Oklahoma and who after living in over 50 other places throughout his music career had come to Calgary to live and build his own music recording studio. Needless to say, a lifetime in the music industry had left David a veritable human goldmine of fascinating stories and anecdotes.

 

We first bonded over American politics. During the Bush vs. Kerry election campaign, David would come in for an afternoon beverage and we would jovially discuss all the ridiculous things happening in the American media at the time. Especially the seemingly overly sensationalized angle taken by Fox News. A topic we were once discussing when another man and his wife came in to sit at the bar and have dinner.
I really should have known based on the size and stature of this mans waxed moustache, coupled with his thick Texan drawl, that they maybe did not concur with our Fox News sentiments. My on the spot observational skills were a little lagging that day however, and I quickly managed to really put my foot in it. After which I was involuntarily treated to a long berating lecture, a lot of finger wagging, and I discovered that to some people the Fox News Network is the only reliable and accurate news source.
And while I did not receive a tip from this gentleman, I did learn a great lesson about tolerating opposing viewpoints, and that sometimes you just need to be quiet, smile and nod. A skill I have since used exhaustively as a Flight Attendant. David got to observe me awkwardly squirm through the entire ordeal, finding my obvious humiliation extremely amusing, and I think that’s what solidified our friendship.
David and I have kept in touch over the years and I knew as soon as I started this journey to find and follow my bliss, that he would be one of the first people I would need to talk to. Not only do I think he is someone who has successfully discovered what his bliss is, I can see how he has also spent a lifetime staying true to its course, and has reaped the benefits of that. So I decided to invite myself over for a long overdue catch up visit at his home and Audities Recording Studio last week. I am so glad I did, as our visit was one of the highlights of my year off so far.

 

One of the many interesting things about David, is that besides being an accomplished musician, producer, and an award-winning composer, he is also a world-renowned specialist in the field of electronic music equipment and instruments. He has dedicated years to finding, restoring, and preserving these pieces. And just to name drop a little, some of the equipment currently at his recording studio was previously owned by Lenny Kravitz, while other equipment had been used in the recording of a few of the Beatles albums. I had been dying to see the place and everything in it for years and it certainly did not disappoint.
I can’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon then drinking wine, listening to fantastic music, and having amazing discussions about life, all while being surrounded by rare musical relics and equipment. “Cool” just doesn’t cut it. Bliss maybe comes close.
David is known for founding, and creating on of the world’s largest collections of electronic music equipment. If you are from Calgary and you have been inside Studio Bell, home of the new National Music Center, then you should know that David is also responsible for populating 80% of the Electronic Music Collection there.

Most interestingly I think, David has an incredible knack for finding rare instruments and equipment even when no one else can. And while I could spend pages further  writing about the many fascinating aspects of his life and still not even scratch the surface, it’s his special skill of finding the things that other people couldn’t I want to share.

David had many stories of synchronistic events where these long lost, or forgotten pieces of equipment and instruments that he was trying to find, would somehow actually seemingly find him. A random stranger would contact him out of the blue to ask a question about an unrecognizable instrument they had stumbled across at a pawn shop, and it would be the very object David had decided he would like to track down just two weeks prior. People, places, and things seemed to always be conspiring in his favour.
David and I discussed how it was just like the very thing Joseph Campbell had said, that when you are following your bliss it’s as though “unseen hands” will intervene to help you. This idea fascinates me and makes me think of the Rumi quote:

“What you seek is seeking you”

I think it means that if something is for you, it will find you. Which is great, because I think that suggests that there is a lot less effort required on our part to meet up with the things we are looking for.
Suppose the people, relationships, jobs, things, and experiences we most want are willing to meet us half way? That’s a thought that feels really good to me. Because if that is in fact the case, then there is less distance for me to cover on my own before I bump into some of this stuff.
And actually, when I take into consideration all of the most significant or impactful jobs, people and experiences that have come my way in the past few years, it really does seem like they were looking for me too. Since I’ve been on this path of committing to a more joyful and mindfully led life, I’ve been increasingly aware that things and events were being quite noticeably nudged in my direction. By whom or what I can’t say, but in every case the degree of synchronicity was uncanny.
Even though the road hasn’t felt direct or straight, there has been this intermittent feeling of connection, and a sort of sense of rightness and for lack of a better word, an undertone of almost magic. I’ve also noticed that there is a direct correlation between how much of that sensation of synchronicity I am experiencing and how seriously I am taking things at any given time. It’s undeniable that the more fun I’m having and at ease I am, the more these non-coincidental events occur.
If I find myself stressed or in a funk, it’s like someone turns that magic tap all the way off. Life slows down to a crawl, and I feel like I’m really having to motivate myself to do almost everything. But if I can find any excuse to lighten up, relax and get my mojo back, then bam! Fun, interesting and meaningful things begin once again dropping into my lap.
I suppose that’s what the trick might be then. You have to get happy, so life can help you to stay happy. And I guess that might seem a little cruel. We want life to do the work first. We don’t always get to spend everyday sitting in a magnificent recording studio, listening to some of the worlds best music, and sipping a Malbec. But there are lots of tricks we can all keep in our tool box to get that magic tap turned back on.

Certainly, for me one of those tricks is music. I have a go to list of about 20 rotating songs that I will intentionally listen to when I’m trying to hit play on that dopamine button in my brain. I’d say they are successful at getting me back in my happy zone 75% of the time. The effects aren’t always long term especially if I am worried or preoccupied with something, but sometimes just the break from the stress is worth it. And if I can accompany that song with some pyjama clad kitchen dancing with my four-year-old daughter Locklyn, those odds go up to 95%.
I would love to hear what some of your “Happy” songs are. Extra points are given if anyone can include a picture or video of them dancing to it. I’ll compile the collection of all of your choices and post it so that everyone can benefit from some shared dopamine.

 

 

 

 

My best tips for creating an interesting and impactful day on the Bow River with your two best friends:

1. For the very best river floats your going to want to get out of the city and away from all the hustle and bustle. Don’t try to float down segments of the river where there are other humans around who might be able to assist you should you need them. 3 hours of floating with no access to help or safe exit points off of rapid infested glacial fed water is best. After-all you want to commit fully to this experience, so the more desolate the better.
2. Whatever you do, don’t bring life jackets. Everyone knows their pesky attempt to preserve your life in a capsizing scenario really only interferes with your getting any kind of a satisfactory tan.
3. Next avoid buying one decent sea worthy river raft. Instead purchase three separate paper thin rubber dinghys. That way when one friends boat barely brushes up against the first rock you pass, and her dinghy immediately disintegrates beneath her, you will be really impressed at her adrenaline induced, lightening speed ability to somehow transpose herself into your own equally useless and fragile boat. The will to live is truly a miraculous thing, and now everyone gets to be nice, cozy and snug.
4. Paddles are also unnecessary. The two foot long piece of half burnt discarded two-by-four you randomly find floating by will work just fine when you need to evade a constant barrage of exposed boat eating rock and riverbank.
5. It’s best to not let anyone else know where you are. They would only attempt to rescue you.
6. Don’t plan too far ahead. If possible the whole day should be a last minute impulsive decision. Remember, you want to maximize the feeling of regret in your floating experience, as such you will not need:
Food
Water
Cell phones
Logic or Reason

And that’s it! Those six simple tips are all that’s required for you to really get the most out of your summer afternoon and bond with your friends. Who needs to relax when you can spend the entire day in a constant state of terrified vigilance.

 

 

I had not anticipated that I would ever find myself single at five and a half months pregnant. And when I did, along with the obvious confounding shock and disbelief, came an enormous amount of frustration. It felt like the river of my life had come to a complete dead end. Or more so, that I was left sitting in my boat without an ounce of water beneath me to lift me up or move me forward.
For a while I just sat there, unable to move and longingly looking back at the river I had once been in and the life I had thought I would live. I was clearly no longer in the smooth flowing tributary I had become accustom to, and it was very bewildering to me how I had gone from a steady current with a clear destination in mind, to being run ashore in the midst of totally unfamiliar surroundings.
I thought if I just stayed there at that impasse long enough the water would eventually come back, or some form of rope or tangible object would appear out of nowhere and rescue me. Neither of those things happened, but then thankfully it was actually the frustration that ultimately came to my rescue. To me, there is no worse sensation then stagnation, that feeling of being stuck, and I had enough of waiting for something to come carry my boat for me. I knew there had to be other rivers running somewhere. I didn’t even care really where they were going, I mostly just longed for the feeling of movement again.

So here is where we come to one of my favorite words; “portage”, which is the carrying of a boat overland from one body of water to another or around an obstacle. Its more then just a nice sounding word, its an action we can take when we’ve run up against something and realize its time to take the experience of our life back into our own hands.
Not all rivers end at the ocean, but that doesn’t mean there still isn’t a way to get there. And once you decide to portage, you’d be surprised how many people are willing to come help lend a hand when you carry your boat. You are going to want to travel light though, the more weight and baggage you can leave behind the better. The best part is, typically you don’t even need to walk that far, rivers and streams are running everywhere you look.
I started off slow, found a nice little slow moving brook, which led to a stream, then a canal, and now I finally feel like I’m back in a swiftly moving river and enjoying an ever changing view. The best part is, when I got back in the water I found I didn’t really even need to paddle. Once I was back in the flow, I happily discovered I was able to let the current do the work. The hardest part had just been in deciding to stand up and get out of that dead-end river.
I cant imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t gone looking for another waterway or path for myself. For sure I would have missed out on all the people, experiences and happenings that this new route has delivered me to. Portaging also gave me the knowledge that there is always another great adventure beyond the last one. After all its whatever floats your boat right!

Now in this year of following my bliss, I’m finding the hardest part is just trusting the river. With so much unknown ahead of me I keep having to resist the urge to pull out my oars and try and steer. Things are flowing along very nicely, and I want to enjoy the beauty and pleasure in my immediate surroundings while they are here for me to see, instead of worrying about what might be around the next bend.
The last week was extremely busy and more like a ride on white water rapids, but in a really great way. Like the kind where you yell “yayyyy” instead of hiding terrified in the bottom of the boat. I did two different photoshoots, had my first experience on a TV film set as an extra where I had a blast, and caught up with an old friend of mine that I cant wait to write about in my next blog. I’m so excited to see where this river floats to next.
I think that really smart and well-spoken guy, “Anonymous” maybe said it the best,

 

Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
Life is but a dream

 

 

 

 

I was on The Price Is Right once.
Yup, I got called “Onnnnn down!!!!”
Met Bob Barker.
And to be honest the entire thing was a bit of a train wreck.
I was on Contestants Row for what was almost the entire episode without ever making it on stage. My lack of success seemed somehow tied to me having zero clue what I was doing. You see because I, unlike 90% of North America, had never really watched that show.
So as a result, I spent the whole episode nervously swaying back-and-forth and moving in and out of the camera shot while doing an extremely awkward elbows-up aggressive man clap. Let me tell you, it was not attractive.
Quite honestly, I think I just got off on a bad foot. Because when they initially called me down, I was very conscious of the fact that I was supposed to play it up for the crowd. In my misplaced attempt to seem enthusiastic and fun, I opted for a very unfortunate Cali version of the Arsenio Hall arm pump the entire time I made my way from my seat towards the stage. Trust me when I say, the air date two months later was not one of my better days.
I think the actual peak of humiliation however, was when at one point from the cameras view, it looked as though I had deeply buried my face in a Bob Barkers Babe’s cleavage as I was trying to better examine a jewel studded necklace she was modelling for us to bid on. In retrospect, I blame her because she let me get right in there without putting up much of a fight.
And no, none of you will ever actually see this epic catastrophe because the only evidence, a single remaining VHS tape, is still carefully hidden in my parent’s basement. So, don’t bother asking!
Years later, although I still cringe in mortification when I think about it, I don’t actually regret a thing. Because could you imagine if when they called my name I just leapt out of my seat and ran in the opposite direction and straight out of the studio doors? Trust me, I did actually consider doing that at the time. But if I had, well then yes, while I would have skipped the humiliating shame spiral memories, I would also be short one awesome and hilarious story.
I’d also be missing out on the extremely unattractive, three-foot-high, beige cement lighthouse lawn ornament that was my contestants prize and that is shown below. (Also, still in my parent’s basement and available to the highest bidder.)

That story is exactly why one of my personal directives for this year off is that I have to say yes to anything that sounds like fun. It seems to me that, “Yes’s” while difficult at the beginning, often lead to the best life experiences.
I remember an old improv acting game we used to play in high school. It was called “Yes Let’s!”. It had a pretty simple premise where one actor on the spot would come up with and begin acting out a scene on any topic and in any setting of their choice. Then one or more other actors would jump into the scene and try and find out what was going on by observing the first actors’ actions. Quickly enough they would get on the same page, and then to create an interesting skit, the next actor would come up with another new idea and voice it aloud to the group.
It would be something like, “Let’s take our band of roaming circus performers to the nudist colony!” To which in unison the other improv actors on stage would all enthusiastically reply, “YES LET’S!”, and off they would go to that imaginary setting. The skit could then be continuously altered anytime a participant announced a new idea to the ensemble.
One of the nuances of the game was that no matter how strange, or off topic the “Let’s” suggestion was, all the other actors would always respond with, “Yes Let’s!”. The reason being, if the actors ever replied, “No let’s not…”, “Why would we want to do that?”, or “Well that’s a terrible idea and I think you are an idiot.”, the scene would be dead.
There’s no where to go with a no. There would be no avenue for change or progression in the storyline. Everyone would be stuck just standing there staring at one another or at their own feet, until the drama teacher yelled, “End scene!”.

I think in a way that is always happing in many of our life experiences. Great ideas are being shouted out, and while part us would like to respond with a resounding, “YES LET’S!”, almost always we just stand there staring at our shoes, and then unfortunately we end up being scene enders to our own stories.
Oh, and we all know why, there are very real things stopping us. Obviously the foremost of which is the big F-word. FEAR. Which if you ever need a grade ‘A’ awesome acronym for, as my dad always says, FEAR just stands for: False Evidence Appearing Real. Good right?!
Then of course comes the long list of other reasons to say no, like responsibility, lack of money, time shortage, fatigue, someone else won’t like it, it’s laundry day and I have nothing to wear, or what if I embarrass myself when I have to poop next to the river… and yada yada yada.
But I am starting to realize that there is a place in our lives for spontaneity, there is a place for adventure, there is place for a forking in the road. There are opportunities popping up for the change we are all craving. So, when an idea or an opportunity, or an inspiration comes to us, I’m wondering what would happen if we met it with that enthusiastic “Yes Let’s!”?
I’ve always seen human lives as sort of like one of those Choose-You-Own-Adventure books we used to read as teenagers. We create our story as we go. We are the ones who get to say “yes” or “no” when it comes time to turn the page.

“Bastian looked at the book.
‘I wonder,’ he said to himself, ‘what’s in a book while it’s closed. Oh, I know it’s full of letters printed on paper, but all the same, something must be happening, because as soon as I open it, there’s a whole story with people I don’t know yet and all kinds of adventures, deeds and battles. And sometimes there are storms at sea, or it takes you to strange cities and countries. All those things are somehow shut in a book. Of course you have to read it to find out. But it’s already there, that’s the funny thing. I just wish I knew how it could be.’
Suddenly an almost festive mood came over him.
He settled himself down, picked up the book, opened it to the first page, and began to read…”
― Michael Ende, The Neverending Story

 

I love that book. Mostly because it is all about adventure, and so far, I have enjoyed an adventurous first ten days in my year off journey. I am proud to say I have said “Yes Lets!” to three fun sounding things. The thing about yesses though, is that they can sometimes be scary. Every single one those yesses involves me also getting past a pretty huge fear wall. All of them are a little outside of my present comfort zone.
One was an open audition to be an extra on a TV show, one was to a new job opportunity with a friend, and another to do some modelling for new photographer I haven’t worked with before. Those are pretty simple sounding, but in each case, I have had to really talk myself into them. As fun as all of them will be, they all require me doing something new and putting myself out there, which of course comes with a lot of fear of failure.
At the end of the day, I can’t find any good reason not to do these things, I mean besides the all-consuming and crippling fear associated of course. I’ve been contemplating how similar anxiety and exhilaration are, and I find I’m walking the thin line between the two a lot lately. But that’s what this year is all about.
I have some ducks I need to get into a row before my daughter and I can start taking a few of the trips I have planned, and these opportunities are all things I can enjoy in the meantime. So, I’m just going to lean into them and say yes.
Because when that booming voice yells, “Come on down!” You go.

“What I’ve started I must finish. I’ve gone too far to turn back. Regardless of what may happen, I have to go forward.”
― Michael Ende, The Neverending Story

I would really like to hear from some of you the things you are saying “Yes Lets!” to. If you have the time to write it, I’ll find the time to read.