Happy New Year! Here's to 2011!!

Early this morning, I came across this inspirational poem by Don Herold, an American (born in Indiana)   humorist, writer, illustrator and cartoonist who wrote and illustrated many books and was a contributor to national magazines.

I think it's an inspiring read, as we begin to say goodbye to the old year and welcome the start of a new one.

The New Year is a perfect time to reset some goals, envision new ones and strive for some semblance of balance in our chaotic world.

If nothing else, this poem will have you question your own life.

Are you where you want to be?

Are you doing the things you want to do?

Are you surrounding yourself with people who bring out the best in  you?

Are you pleased with your existence?

Can you make any changes to improve your current set-up in life?
Take a closer look.
Maybe this is the year to get off that endless "tapis roulant"/treadmill LIFE TRAP and start doing things that truly matter.
Laugh more.

Hug more.

Be silly.

Make mistakes, make more mistakes, learn from your mistakes and stop striving for perfection.

Seek out people who inspire relaxation, a sense of adventure, fun.

Seek out people who warm your soul.

Here is to NEW goals and a NEW outlook for life in 2011!!!!

Happy Read and Happy New Year!!

A poem by Don Herold

Of course, you can't unfry an egg, but there is no law against thinking about it.

If I had my life to live over, I would try to make more mistakes.
I would relax.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
I know of very few things that I would take seriously.

I would be less hygienic.

I would go more places.

I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.

I would eat more ice cream and less bran.

I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary troubles.
You see, I have been one of those fellows who lived prudently and sanely, hour after hour, day after day. Oh, I have had my moments.
But if I had it to do over again, I would have more of them - a lot more.
I never go anywhere without a thermometer, a gargle, a raincoat and a parachute. If I had it to do over, I would travel lighter.

It may be too late to unteach an old dog old tricks, but perhaps a word from the unwise may be of benefit to a coming generation. It may help them to fall into some of the pitfalls I have avoided.

If I had my life to live over, I would pay less attention to people who teach tension.
In a world of specialization we naturally have a superabundance of individuals who cry at us to be serious about their individual specialty.

They tell us we must learn Latin or History; otherwise we will be disgraced and ruined and flunked and failed. After a dozen or so of these protagonists have worked on a young mind, they are apt to leave it in hard knots for life.

I wish they had sold me Latin and History as a lark.

I would seek out more teachers who inspire relaxation and fun.
I had a few of them, fortunately, and I figure it was they who kept me from going entirely to the dogs.
From them I learned how to gather what few scraggly daisies I have gathered along life's cindery pathway.

If I had my life to live over, I would start barefooted a little earlier in the spring and stay that way a little later in the fall. I would play hooky more. I would shoot more paper wads at my teachers. I would have more dogs. I would keep later hours. I'd have more sweethearts. I would fish more. I would go to more circuses. I would go to more dances. I would ride on more merry-go-rounds. I would be carefree as long as I could, or at least until I got some care- instead of having my cares in advance.

More errors are made solemnly than in fun. The rubs of family life come in moments of intense seriousness rather that in moments of light-heartedness. If nations - to magnify my point - declared international carnivals instead of international war, how much better that would be!

G.K. Chesterton once said, "A characteristic of the great saints is their power of levity. Angels can fly because they can take themselves lightly. One 'settles down' into a sort of selfish seriousness; but one has to rise to a gay self-forgetfulness. A man falls into a 'brown study'; he reaches up at a blue sky."

In a world in which practically everybody else seems to be consecrated to the gravity of the situation, I would rise to glorify the levity of the situation. For I agree with Will Durant that "gaiety is wiser than wisdom."

I doubt, however, that I'll do much damage with my creed. The opposition is too strong. There are too many serious people trying to get everybody else to be too darned serious.

Will leave you all with one of my all time favorite songs by Colin Hay, the lead singer from Men At Work.

His lyrics are precious.

How do you help a person going through an existential crisis?

My Facebook status is showing me as sleepless up North.

Sleepless in Montreal.
Sleepless wherever.
Location is unimportant.

I have a lot of internal noise going on all at once.
I have energy and not sure what to do with it all.
Emotions are overwhelming...
I tried all sorts of distractions today...running on the treadmill, passionately handling ingredients to cook up a lunch, talking with family about what's bothering me, running to the magazine store to      pick up reading material to distract the mind. To no avail.

Late in the afternoon, I decided to head to LaFontaine park to surround myself with LIFE.
It's not that life isn't present at home, or at a store, or watching one's kids at play ( in my case, the boys are with their dad for a week).
Parks are usually the best place to witness LIFE, people living.

I found myself watching the skaters, children with their toboggans, elderly couples strolling, families enjoying the brisk air.

Life was in motion at park LaFontaine.

I was not seeing busy-ness, rather I was witnessing pleasure seekers.

Then I thought of my father...

My 69 year old father is not in great shape.

Since last March 2010, he has been in and out of a hospital as my children, my mother, my sister and I, all watch different parts of his body fail him. It's not easy.

Most certainly, it's not easy for HIM.

A little about him...

Growing up, I watched him be a pillar of strength in our household.

He showed me the meaning of resilience, the benefits of hard work, determination, aiming high, striving to be the best that one can be.

All good things, indeed.

As a child I watched his inter-personal skills closely.

He never needed to repeat himself twice.

He commanded respect.

He stood tall, his eyes meant business and one quickly knew his intention without an exchange of words.
I grew up feeling cared for, safe, and knowing my actions mattered.

My father today, this very second, is experiencing his very own Existential Crisis.

Makes sense when one sees one's body begin to slow down, not heal as quickly or not at ALL.

He is questioning his life, looking back at his decisions, perhaps regretting some actions...

Though he led his childhood, young adulthood and adult life with a vision for his family's future, he did little to nurture and protect his health. He was a chain smoker from adolescence, ate whatever he enjoyed, never exercised, stressed out most of his life and ignored all of his doctors' recommendations.
His solution to ailments was taking his prescribed medication to alter or remedy what was not going well.
His family history is of concern, as heart disease and strokes are prevalent.
In essence, he abused his body.
And...he did so with an invincible attitude.

Sitting in the hospital yesterday at noon, I noticed he is NOT feeling so invincible.

He looks scared.

His body looks weak.

He looks needy.

He seeks attention.

He wants someone to tell him that all will be well.

His reality...his kidneys are failing him, his circulation is poor, his lungs are weak.

He can barely walk, as his feet have swollen.
He has stomach cramps which hold him back from eating.
He feels weak, as a result.

His lungs experienced a mild case of pneumonia this past weekend.

Will he still smoke?

Most likely...

I am angry with him.

I am angry with him because I have seen the better part of his life having a "fuck you" attitude about his health choices.

Why is he NOW experiencing all this sadness, remorse and fear?

In this last chapter of his life, whether 25 years from now or next year (I don't wish him a short life. I desperately WANT him to live a long long life) why is he not FINISHING STRONG like he always has?

WHY?

I don't know how to handle this scared version of my dad...

Did you know you can learn a lot about life while sailing?

This past week, I had the pleasure of joining a friend on his sailboat. I must admit, it was not the first time I had sailed. I did indeed notice that our perception of sailing in our twenties is very different than in our forties. I distinctly recall having a carefree attitude in my twenties and oblivious to the sailing nuances. I wasn't sensitive to the importance of changing winds, traffic on the lake, but was more concerned about gaining speed, while taking the sun.

This time around, I found myself heavily aware of my surroundings, sensitive to the blowing wind and the reaction of the boat, in some cases too late (like when I poorly steered the boat toward the dock while my friend was lifting the sails-Yup it was a big scratch!)....But then again, you live and learn, meaning second time around, we both learned to take the boat to the center of the lake and then begin the set-up process.

This last little journey gave me many moments to reflect and observe the parallels between sailing and life skills. In a macro sailing moment, you quickly learn the importance of facing challenges on the water, thinking quickly on your feet, learning the virtue of patience, acknowledging that though you may be a control freak, sometimes in life nature has other things in store for you. You also learn that you have good times where the boat sails to perfection while you smile blissfully at the sun, while other times, you lose the wind in your sail and find yourself sitting patiently, reflecting and awaiting the next gust of wind. Mind you, in our case, the wind never came and so we gently drifted and perhaps even picked up momentum at barely two knots.

Another eye-opening experience is that one learns a lot about one's sailing partner under challenging situations. In my case, I bravely decided to take a moment to lead the boat back to the marina. I quickly learned that good sailors make it look easy.
I asked my friend if he could guide me and show me the whys behind certain actions. I must admit just because I am a great teacher with twenty years under my belt, does not make every TOM,Dick and Harry a great one too. His methods of teaching include gentle yelling, sarcasm, laughter (as in making fun of moi)...not necessarily the right ingredients for a special needs student like myself! Truth be told, I was most impressed with how he allowed me freedom to try and to fail, and then to try again. So in essence, he has the right ingredients to coach. May I make a suggestion, dear friend, coddle a wee bit more and then you have MAGIC!

It must have taken me well over an hour to learn, through osmosis and perhaps the nudging of my friend, that getting from point A to point B isn't always a straight course, especially if the straight course takes you directly into the wind. Planning a route that gets you to your destination in the shortest possible time is accomplished through a maneuver called tacking, in which the boat is steered in a zigzag, upwind direction.
Mind you, by the time I figured that out, the wind stopped blowing and we began the drifting process back to shore.