Monday, April 9, 2012
A 'good' Friday indeed
Right off the bat, it felt like we were wagging school or taking a sickie.
We awoke to the alarm, cooked an omelette to use up the orange capsicum, and watched Transformers to pass the time.
At 12:30, for want of something better to do, we headed out to see if Superstore was open. It was, after all, Easter, and thanks to a lack of planning on our part and some silly self-inflicted rule of no sweets or junk food or coffee from Monday to Friday, there was no chocolate to be found anywhere in the house.
This necessitated a hunt, but the odds were slim, given the date on the calendar. A quick look around the neighbourhood and we were out of luck on the chocolate front. So after hitting the bank, so to speak, we took a window seat at Starbucks, where we sipped and munched and read our way through the next two hours. At that point, we headed home to other projects and plans.
That venture on its own was not too remarkable, but it's what we saw when we were out that pleasantly surprised us.
You see, other than our coffee stop, the stores and streets were mostly people free.
It was peaceful and quiet, and reminded me of my youth. Those "more frequently than now" days when all shops were closed on weeknights (except for Thursday night), weekends (except for Saturday mornings) and public holidays (no exceptions). Which meant that people were home with their family and friends, catching up on the day's activities, the week's worries, and enjoying more time together.
I get that some of us need access to shops all day and every day, but I liked it much better when we didn't. When you could enjoy a stress-free wander along deserted streets, imagining and planning what you'd buy when the shops were open again. When we planned ahead. When we didn't have to shop, just because we could.
So for us, it was a 'good' Friday indeed. And as luck would have it, we had another moment that gave us an opportunity to enjoy time together without the usual distractions.
That Sunday night, the power went off at exactly 6:43 pm, and stayed off for two hours. We stayed sat on the sofa, and talked and read. It was wonderful.
Of course, we have a choice to not shop and to not watch just because. Problem is we don't exercise that choice often enough. But after this 'good' Friday and Easter Sunday, we might choose to do exactly that on a regular basis!
Monday, March 26, 2012
Dear Mr Blue Box collector
Strange conversation we had last week, eh? Me trying to get your attention, you ignoring me as much as possible. Oh well, I'm sure it was great entertainment for the neighbours, and it gave us the opportunity to air a few concerns.
If I remember correctly, it was a beautiful day and the sun was shining. I know you saw our two blue boxes because during the course of our conversation, you told me so. True, there were those two piles of dirt on the street in front of them, but we didn't put them there - and they weren't there when we put the boxes out early that morning.
From my standpoint, you had three choices.
1. You could have walked 6 feet around the back of one pile, pick up the first bin, keep walking to pick up the second bin, take both to the truck, empty them, and leave them right there on the curb.
2. You could have walked around the back of one pile, then around the front of the second pile, taking the bins one at a time and emptying them.
3. You could have walked through the middle of the two piles where there was a clear path, and picked up both bins before taking them to the truck.
Unfortunately, you decided the whole situation was our fault and chose to leave both where they were, even though they were easily accessible and full to the brim with recycled matter.
When I saw the situation, I had three choices.
1. Ignore you and let you go on your way, then take the bins to the local recycle spot.
2. Call the city and complain, even though it would have meant dealing with the ridiculous 311 line.
3. Run out into the street and insist you come back and do your job.
Unfortunately, I chose #3, replaced "insist" with "yelling", which led to a bit of name calling on both our parts, me apologising for name calling and yelling, you saying bins only get picked up if they're on the curb, me saying they were on the curb, you saying that missing a few bins wasn't your problem, me asking if you were paid to make it your problem, you complaining you had hundreds of thousands of bins to pick up and you couldn't go back for only two, me shaking my head as you tossed the bins to the ground, and you yelling "Have a nice day!" in the kind of voice that suggested you didn't really mean it.
The sad part of it all is that in our respective desire to win the conversation, neither of us noticed that the bins on the other side of the street hadn't been picked up yet. That would have given each of us an option:
1. I could have simply put them over there for you to pick up later.
2. You could have suggested from your position down the street that I put them over them for you to pick up later.
Unfortunately, we chose ignoring and yelling over civil and courteous behaviour. What a shame.
Anyway, I don't know about you, but I'd rather not do that again next week - the neighbours don't need the entertainment, and neither you nor I need or deserve the angst.
Signed, an otherwise grateful Blue Box user.
PS While I was writing this blog, a friend posted an appropriate sentiment on my Facebook page: "I am thankful for the difficult people in my life. They have shown me exactly who I don't want to be." Hmmm. To which one of us do you think this applies?!
If I remember correctly, it was a beautiful day and the sun was shining. I know you saw our two blue boxes because during the course of our conversation, you told me so. True, there were those two piles of dirt on the street in front of them, but we didn't put them there - and they weren't there when we put the boxes out early that morning.
From my standpoint, you had three choices.
1. You could have walked 6 feet around the back of one pile, pick up the first bin, keep walking to pick up the second bin, take both to the truck, empty them, and leave them right there on the curb.
2. You could have walked around the back of one pile, then around the front of the second pile, taking the bins one at a time and emptying them.
3. You could have walked through the middle of the two piles where there was a clear path, and picked up both bins before taking them to the truck.
Unfortunately, you decided the whole situation was our fault and chose to leave both where they were, even though they were easily accessible and full to the brim with recycled matter.
When I saw the situation, I had three choices.
1. Ignore you and let you go on your way, then take the bins to the local recycle spot.
2. Call the city and complain, even though it would have meant dealing with the ridiculous 311 line.
3. Run out into the street and insist you come back and do your job.
Unfortunately, I chose #3, replaced "insist" with "yelling", which led to a bit of name calling on both our parts, me apologising for name calling and yelling, you saying bins only get picked up if they're on the curb, me saying they were on the curb, you saying that missing a few bins wasn't your problem, me asking if you were paid to make it your problem, you complaining you had hundreds of thousands of bins to pick up and you couldn't go back for only two, me shaking my head as you tossed the bins to the ground, and you yelling "Have a nice day!" in the kind of voice that suggested you didn't really mean it.
The sad part of it all is that in our respective desire to win the conversation, neither of us noticed that the bins on the other side of the street hadn't been picked up yet. That would have given each of us an option:
1. I could have simply put them over there for you to pick up later.
2. You could have suggested from your position down the street that I put them over them for you to pick up later.
Unfortunately, we chose ignoring and yelling over civil and courteous behaviour. What a shame.
Anyway, I don't know about you, but I'd rather not do that again next week - the neighbours don't need the entertainment, and neither you nor I need or deserve the angst.
Signed, an otherwise grateful Blue Box user.
PS While I was writing this blog, a friend posted an appropriate sentiment on my Facebook page: "I am thankful for the difficult people in my life. They have shown me exactly who I don't want to be." Hmmm. To which one of us do you think this applies?!
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Learning the hard way
I can do things. Tie my shoelaces, drive a car, edit books, keep deadlines, remember birthdays, write, take photos, and deliver interesting speeches.
There are lots of things I can't do. Cook, graphic design, and brain surgery, to name just a few of the many I could put here.
And there is one thing I do do that, as I learned the hard way, has major repercussions.
It's called overtasking - when the list of duties becomes so overwhelming that you wake up one day simultaneously wondering and panicking, "What the hey? How did this happen? And what do I do now?"
To be sure, this is a slow creep, occurring over time and without anyone actually noticing. In my case, and in this particular situation, it was brought about by picking up tasks left wanting because the people doing them either moved, took another job, retired or burned out, or were in fact never told it was something they should or could be doing in the first place.
And that's not all. It's also the result of me being a little too protective of my charges, overenthusiastic about my responsibilities, quick to take on new tasks to fix a particular situation that has arisen or might arise at some point down the line, and/or doing more, way more, than the situation required.
As a result, there is now, quite simply, too much on my plate, most of which I probably shouldn't even be doing. And because I'm focused on moving in a new direction and succeeding in some different pursuits, I need to take back much of the time otherwise committed to the repercussions of that slow creep, and thereby regain some control over my today.
In other words, it's time to let something go.
Exactly what had to go became obvious after tracking time spent on everything over a two-month period. With the answer staring me in the face, and the realisation slowly sinking in, it was nevertheless a tough decision, albeit definitely the right one. For better or for worse, it will take some time to stick, but it is already in play.
I learned the hard way that allowing slow creep to monopolise your time and ambitions doesn't get you anywhere. So, look at it from my point of view and stop the creep before it stops you.
Now, that's something we can all do!
There are lots of things I can't do. Cook, graphic design, and brain surgery, to name just a few of the many I could put here.
And there is one thing I do do that, as I learned the hard way, has major repercussions.
It's called overtasking - when the list of duties becomes so overwhelming that you wake up one day simultaneously wondering and panicking, "What the hey? How did this happen? And what do I do now?"
To be sure, this is a slow creep, occurring over time and without anyone actually noticing. In my case, and in this particular situation, it was brought about by picking up tasks left wanting because the people doing them either moved, took another job, retired or burned out, or were in fact never told it was something they should or could be doing in the first place.
And that's not all. It's also the result of me being a little too protective of my charges, overenthusiastic about my responsibilities, quick to take on new tasks to fix a particular situation that has arisen or might arise at some point down the line, and/or doing more, way more, than the situation required.
As a result, there is now, quite simply, too much on my plate, most of which I probably shouldn't even be doing. And because I'm focused on moving in a new direction and succeeding in some different pursuits, I need to take back much of the time otherwise committed to the repercussions of that slow creep, and thereby regain some control over my today.
In other words, it's time to let something go.
Exactly what had to go became obvious after tracking time spent on everything over a two-month period. With the answer staring me in the face, and the realisation slowly sinking in, it was nevertheless a tough decision, albeit definitely the right one. For better or for worse, it will take some time to stick, but it is already in play.
I learned the hard way that allowing slow creep to monopolise your time and ambitions doesn't get you anywhere. So, look at it from my point of view and stop the creep before it stops you.
Now, that's something we can all do!
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Did you hear the one about ...
... the truck and the car?
It all happened one snowy Tuesday morning while I was driving to a very early meeting. There weren't many others on the road, and the snow had all but obliterated the lane lines. Conditions required patience, understanding and common sense, all of which were clearly lacking for one character in this story.
Without traffic ahead to guide anyone, the car found itself driving in both the second and third lanes. The truck, which had already demonstrated its poor winter-weather coping skills by speeding out from a red traffic light, skidding on the road, and now making haste down a four-lane road, found itself in the second lane partly behind the car.
Apparently unhappy at not having a clear way through, the truck began to tailgate the car, blast the horn, and incessantly flash highbeam headlights. After about 15 seconds, the car found its way into the actual third lane. And with its path now clear, the truck floored it and skidded off, clearly victorious in its efforts to make a point.
You might ask, "With open lanes on either side of the car for the truck to overtake, why did it bully instead of pass?" Good question.
But that's what happens when you're impatient, insensitive and idiotic while driving on snowy roads in the very early morning on a Tuesday.
I'm just saying ....
It all happened one snowy Tuesday morning while I was driving to a very early meeting. There weren't many others on the road, and the snow had all but obliterated the lane lines. Conditions required patience, understanding and common sense, all of which were clearly lacking for one character in this story.
Without traffic ahead to guide anyone, the car found itself driving in both the second and third lanes. The truck, which had already demonstrated its poor winter-weather coping skills by speeding out from a red traffic light, skidding on the road, and now making haste down a four-lane road, found itself in the second lane partly behind the car.
Apparently unhappy at not having a clear way through, the truck began to tailgate the car, blast the horn, and incessantly flash highbeam headlights. After about 15 seconds, the car found its way into the actual third lane. And with its path now clear, the truck floored it and skidded off, clearly victorious in its efforts to make a point.
You might ask, "With open lanes on either side of the car for the truck to overtake, why did it bully instead of pass?" Good question.
But that's what happens when you're impatient, insensitive and idiotic while driving on snowy roads in the very early morning on a Tuesday.
I'm just saying ....
Monday, February 13, 2012
TEDx-cellence in Manitoba
That I was invited to attend TEDx Manitoba was a big and thrilling surprise!
Of course I'd heard about TED - lots of friends and colleagues have been fans for years - and I'd watched many of the videos and been motivated by the ideas. However, the possibility of attending an event did not seem, well, possible.
So, when I found out that TEDx Manitoba was coming here on Thursday February 9, and that three people I knew - Brad Tyler-West, Getty Stewart, and David Zinger - were speaking, I thought, 'What if?'
I had to be part of that audience. And one online application later, I was up for consideration.
To be honest, the process of applying was so much more than responding to a few questions. It gave me time to think, to consider my ideas, to figure out what really inspired me, and to look deep and find the keys to who I am now and how I got here. It also confirmed that I wanted to attend TEDx for many more reasons than simply bearing witness to the three people I knew.
In the days between getting the official invite and attending the event opener, I thought about how to approach the entire experience.
Given the credentials and celebrity of all the speakers, it would be easy to become overwhelmed by their success. So, I made the decision to attend the event without guilt or remorse for my own unrealised ideas and projects. I chose to listen and be inspired without comparing myself or judging myself for not being as creative or as productive, or, as I had hoped would be the case by now, as known as all those on stage.
Not that I haven't had successful ideas and projects, or proven to be creative and productive, or even known in some circles, but I was in the audience and not on the stage. I wondered if that would affect what I got from the experience.
Given my perched perspective of the proceedings, I then opted to assume, and react as if, each person on stage was talking directly to me, as if the two of us were in deep, focused conversation. It made me feel connected - to the speaker, yes, but more so to the idea, the process, the story behind it all, the possibility, and the impact.
So, what did TEDx Manitoba do for me:
- it made me realise I know more than I thought I did
- it helped me identify my 'x' - a few of them, actually
- it confirmed that I have been on the right track all along
- it connected me with a lot of thinkers and doers, each of whom gave me something of value
- it loaded me up with ideas for projects, speeches, blogs and opportunities
- it provided new links and information avenues
- it amazed and inspired, shared and encouraged, promised and delivered, and yes, even brought me to my feet on two occasions
- it had me wondering, "What if ...?"
My guess is that every person in that room on Thursday approached and then walked away from TEDx Manitoba with something unique. Certainly, they'll be motivated to aim higher or differently, or to continue down the path they are already on. And I suspect they'll also reflect on the inspiring speakers, the passionate organisers, the outstanding volunteers, the smooth running of events, the superb location, the fabulous food, and the idea of a repeat performance in 2013!
For sure, I'll be vying for an invite next year. But for now, it's back to bringing my own projects into the light of day and drawing all manner of inspiration from all and sundry on TED stages everywhere.
What a day! Thanks, everyone!
Of course I'd heard about TED - lots of friends and colleagues have been fans for years - and I'd watched many of the videos and been motivated by the ideas. However, the possibility of attending an event did not seem, well, possible.
So, when I found out that TEDx Manitoba was coming here on Thursday February 9, and that three people I knew - Brad Tyler-West, Getty Stewart, and David Zinger - were speaking, I thought, 'What if?'
I had to be part of that audience. And one online application later, I was up for consideration.
To be honest, the process of applying was so much more than responding to a few questions. It gave me time to think, to consider my ideas, to figure out what really inspired me, and to look deep and find the keys to who I am now and how I got here. It also confirmed that I wanted to attend TEDx for many more reasons than simply bearing witness to the three people I knew.
In the days between getting the official invite and attending the event opener, I thought about how to approach the entire experience.
Given the credentials and celebrity of all the speakers, it would be easy to become overwhelmed by their success. So, I made the decision to attend the event without guilt or remorse for my own unrealised ideas and projects. I chose to listen and be inspired without comparing myself or judging myself for not being as creative or as productive, or, as I had hoped would be the case by now, as known as all those on stage.
Not that I haven't had successful ideas and projects, or proven to be creative and productive, or even known in some circles, but I was in the audience and not on the stage. I wondered if that would affect what I got from the experience.
Given my perched perspective of the proceedings, I then opted to assume, and react as if, each person on stage was talking directly to me, as if the two of us were in deep, focused conversation. It made me feel connected - to the speaker, yes, but more so to the idea, the process, the story behind it all, the possibility, and the impact.
So, what did TEDx Manitoba do for me:
- it made me realise I know more than I thought I did
- it helped me identify my 'x' - a few of them, actually
- it confirmed that I have been on the right track all along
- it connected me with a lot of thinkers and doers, each of whom gave me something of value
- it loaded me up with ideas for projects, speeches, blogs and opportunities
- it provided new links and information avenues
- it amazed and inspired, shared and encouraged, promised and delivered, and yes, even brought me to my feet on two occasions
- it had me wondering, "What if ...?"
My guess is that every person in that room on Thursday approached and then walked away from TEDx Manitoba with something unique. Certainly, they'll be motivated to aim higher or differently, or to continue down the path they are already on. And I suspect they'll also reflect on the inspiring speakers, the passionate organisers, the outstanding volunteers, the smooth running of events, the superb location, the fabulous food, and the idea of a repeat performance in 2013!
For sure, I'll be vying for an invite next year. But for now, it's back to bringing my own projects into the light of day and drawing all manner of inspiration from all and sundry on TED stages everywhere.
What a day! Thanks, everyone!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Dear Clavius Dell Andronicus
And so my Facebook posting read:
And by the end of the day, not only did I have lots and lots of work to show for my efforts, but I also didn't have a single email or Facebook response - or phone call, for that matter - until late in the afternoon.
Seems that by distancing myself from Clavius, I ceased to exist for the entire technological world. Might have to try that again - certainly makes for a very productive day!
Dear Clavius Dell Andronicus, you know I love you, but you are too much of a distraction. So, I've decided to turn you off and go work somewhere else today. I might need one of your files at some point, but for the most part, I am reverting to my pencil and paper days, and relying on my own resources. Don't feel slighted. I still love you, and you know I won't be able to stay away forever. If you're at a loss for something to do, why not take a leaf out of my digital experience and read the online news, or FB with some e-friends, or take a virtual vacation? Just a few ideas that are guaranteed to quickly pass the time. For sure, the break will do the both of us some good, so enjoy. Later, mate. Signed, me!
And by the end of the day, not only did I have lots and lots of work to show for my efforts, but I also didn't have a single email or Facebook response - or phone call, for that matter - until late in the afternoon.
Seems that by distancing myself from Clavius, I ceased to exist for the entire technological world. Might have to try that again - certainly makes for a very productive day!
Monday, January 30, 2012
Every man and his dog ...
Yes, this also relates to every woman and her dog, but I'm making a point here.
Last Saturday morning I was up early for a meeting. Not as early as during the week, but early for a weekend. Anyway, got dressed, got all my stuff ready, had breakfast, and headed out to the car.
It wasn't snowing or windy or particularly cold, so I wasn't rushing. I looked around, at least I thought I looked around, and then piled me and my stuff into the car. It's possible that I wasn't all bright eyed and bushy tailed, but I did think I had my wits about me.
So, it was quite the surprise, after reversing into the back lane, that I spied a man and his dog walking in the opposite direction to which I was now headed. I hadn't seen them before I got in the car and they weren't that far away from me - nor were they wildly gesticulating. I looked up to see my guy calmly waving goodbye from the window - no panic there, and the man and his dog seemed fine. I assumed all was well and drove away.
When I got home, I asked about the man and his dog. Apparently, unbeknown to me, I had almost squished them into the neighbour's back fence. "What?" I responded incredulously. Yep, they had seemingly come out of nowhere and, as was their right (although quite possibly not the best decision they could have made), continued to walk behind my car as I was reversing, hence their almost squishedness. "But I never saw them, not before I got in the car, and not while I was reversing. Only when I was in the back lane." My declaration drew a gently smiled, "Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!"
And well deserved. I felt bad that I had been blind to the goings on in my own back lane. I like dogs, people, too, and I was particularly concerned that I might have traumatised the beautiful black lab, which, by the way, I had never seen before in our neighbourhood, or perhaps a different neighbourhood altogether.
Hopefully, the man understood my sleepy state and didn't simply label me a thoughtless or careless driver. And if I see him again walking his dog at 8:10 am, I will be sure to apologise, although I suspect they've seen the error of my ways and are now traversing some other part of our neighbourhood.
My point is that at the end, and the start, of the day, every man and woman and his or her dog should be free to walk safely down our back lane. I, for one, will be sure to double and triple check so I don't ever again squish any unsuspecting traveller into our neighbour's fence.
My other point is that it’s tempting to judge others too quickly without knowing their intent or their mindset. Sometimes it’s all a simple mistake or a misunderstanding. I hope that the man and his dog presumed exactly that, and there’s no need for me to apologise for anything.
Last Saturday morning I was up early for a meeting. Not as early as during the week, but early for a weekend. Anyway, got dressed, got all my stuff ready, had breakfast, and headed out to the car.
It wasn't snowing or windy or particularly cold, so I wasn't rushing. I looked around, at least I thought I looked around, and then piled me and my stuff into the car. It's possible that I wasn't all bright eyed and bushy tailed, but I did think I had my wits about me.
So, it was quite the surprise, after reversing into the back lane, that I spied a man and his dog walking in the opposite direction to which I was now headed. I hadn't seen them before I got in the car and they weren't that far away from me - nor were they wildly gesticulating. I looked up to see my guy calmly waving goodbye from the window - no panic there, and the man and his dog seemed fine. I assumed all was well and drove away.
When I got home, I asked about the man and his dog. Apparently, unbeknown to me, I had almost squished them into the neighbour's back fence. "What?" I responded incredulously. Yep, they had seemingly come out of nowhere and, as was their right (although quite possibly not the best decision they could have made), continued to walk behind my car as I was reversing, hence their almost squishedness. "But I never saw them, not before I got in the car, and not while I was reversing. Only when I was in the back lane." My declaration drew a gently smiled, "Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!"
And well deserved. I felt bad that I had been blind to the goings on in my own back lane. I like dogs, people, too, and I was particularly concerned that I might have traumatised the beautiful black lab, which, by the way, I had never seen before in our neighbourhood, or perhaps a different neighbourhood altogether.
Hopefully, the man understood my sleepy state and didn't simply label me a thoughtless or careless driver. And if I see him again walking his dog at 8:10 am, I will be sure to apologise, although I suspect they've seen the error of my ways and are now traversing some other part of our neighbourhood.
My point is that at the end, and the start, of the day, every man and woman and his or her dog should be free to walk safely down our back lane. I, for one, will be sure to double and triple check so I don't ever again squish any unsuspecting traveller into our neighbour's fence.
My other point is that it’s tempting to judge others too quickly without knowing their intent or their mindset. Sometimes it’s all a simple mistake or a misunderstanding. I hope that the man and his dog presumed exactly that, and there’s no need for me to apologise for anything.