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Two weekends ago I was having a rough day. I was not in the “flow”. Our usual Sunday together was disturbed and I found myself alone and needing some nurturing.
I turned to nature.
I got in my car and drove to Lighthouse Park in West Vancouver(only 10 minutes away). I got myself into the woods and went for a hike.
I passed others hiking in small groups, family outings, but eventually found myself solo surrounded by gigantic mothering trees. My brain slowed down, and the wooded energy started to envelop me. One tree seem to beckon me closer so I could admire the strength in its thick beautiful bark. The tree transformed into a being, reaching out for my arms.
“Oh great. I’m going to hug a tree.” I glanced around, and promptly scolded myself for worrying what others might think. “Who freakin’ cares!” I surrendered to the tree, wrapped my arms as far as I could. I admit, the contact felt strong and reassuring.
I continued on, slightly slower, my gaze absorbing more.
That’s when I saw the fallen tree. Then another one, And, another one. Nothing dramatic, just down. These trees were parts, dead parts, fallen from some reason – wind, disease, or even a strategic chopping to keep the path cleared.
Nurse Log in Lighthouse Park
But, you would not realize they were dead. There was too much life happening in and around them. New life had enveloped them, bringing a lower level beauty to the forest that couldn’t have occurred otherwise.
Nurse logs. Yes, they are officially known as “nurse logs“. Fallen spirits, no longer existing with their own food sources, they become rich grounds for the young. For a long time.
Yes, there is a log underneath the flora!
I stared at log after log of this incredible nurturing. The metaphor provided solace. Even the dead provide a fertile, happy place for fresh new green life.
A new nurse…
I entered the woods with a busy, confused brain.
The forest nursed me with calm observations.
I left, altered, thinking of the nurturing grounds of those close who have passed on. Kind of comforting, don’t you think?
That’s the motto of COO Dai Manuel of Fitness Town. Wait a minute, don’t run away! I know this is an artsy sort of blog and we’ll get to that!
But, first….
I belong to a Thursday morning breakfast group called “Think Referrals” started by Rainer Schmoll who created this group with a focus on giving back to the community – now several chapters and, also, an official non-profit society: “Think Generously“. I met Rainer, Dai and a few others at another fun networking group in Langley (Marketing Dangerously Social Media Challenge) put on by the very cool dudes Neil Godin, CEO of “Marketing Dangerously” and Jonathan Christian, CEO of “We Make Stuff Happen“. Pro-connecter, “Financial Runner” Gary Jones was there that evening as well, and encouraged me to join “Think Referrals”.(thank you!)
Thinkreferrals Yaletown chapter
That’s the background.
I did join. Several months and much laughter later, all chapters embarked, 45 days ago, on their 5th year ritual of “Think Fitness”, supported by Fitness Town. The 90 Day fitness challenge was good timing for me as health has become a high priority in my household, and I wanted to makes some changes.
Hmmm… 90-Day Fitness Challenge.. Doesn’t sound very artsy or warm and fuzzy, does it? Well…as one of my verbs for 2012 was “Embark” (which meant doing stuff out of my comfort zone) I decided to give it a shot. Thankfully, Dai is a good leader a long with Jason Scott, his esteemed side kick, and they have gently hooked this right brainer.
I still am wary of all the terms that everyone is tossing around as they embrace Dai’s fitness guidance: crossfit, throw downs, slam balls (oops, I mean ballslams), kettlebell swings, double unders, burpees, Sprint 8′s, Sasquatch….Sasquatch? I’m learning some of them, but, my fitness definitely comes from a different dictionary.
My list:
*Haven’t used the elevator in 45 days except for a handful of times with groceries.
*Increased my existing morning ritual to include squats, & arm weights, & longer in the yoga plank position.
*More brisk walks on the West Vancouver seawall.
*No more wheat.
*And, thanks to Jason Scott, very cool vibrating mini work outs on the POWER PLATE to strengthen an injured leg!
So… a little softer, but I think it still counts? I do feel better.
I want to thank Dai Manuel and Fitness Town for inspiring and encouraging a whole bunch of people who were skeptical and now have turned into “born again fitness geeks”. Your health mission is good for everyone!
Keep Moving!
Some buffoonery with Jason Scott's Power Plate
It’s the last day of 2011, and here we venture into a “new” year where we renew our cheque writing habits and scratch out the 1, and replace it with a 2, and initial the error. But, that’s just a technicality.
Really, the New Year always seems to have a refreshing sense of renewal, a clean slate, a second chance, a new step, new energy and resolve, a dusting off, a shedding of old, and a new determination of marching forward. I love the sensation, yet, the realist in me says “it’s just another day”, and nothing has changed. Thank goodness, the spiritual side of me chooses to embrace the illusion of newness, and pulls up the new clean agenda with hope.
New Year’s resolutions can become a dangerous concoction of expectations, unattainable aspirations resulting in disappointments, so I step around the ritual with caution. One of the people I have “met” online, and follow is entrepreneurial mentor Chris Brogan. He offers us a suggestion to replace the over zealous resolutions by choosing three words for your 2012 guiding track. You have to dig deep inside and figure out what words resonate with how you would like to drive your year. I like this.
So… in the spirit of Chris, I would like to write three words that represent for me my departing year, and also my arriving year.
The main energy for 2011, for me, involved family, and some new steps towards my business. I learned that there will always be difficult challenges in life, and the other challenge is to balance it all, without guilt, with laughter and pleasure.
2011: Showing up, leading, cocooning
2012: Embark, Focus, Manage
Happy New Year to you all. I sincerely wish for you a road of good life, with good lessons, and laughter. And, if you would like to share three words with me, here, I would be honoured.
Cheers!! 
Our inspiring neighbourhood... Happy New Year
Blogging at Christmas
Nostalgia:
Moping, being artistically depressed, and longing with unrealistic tendencies for a past that probably had it’s problems, too, but in hindsight were cozy, Kinkadishly perfect. Now you altruistically give to strangers, whilst pining for the “old days”, which means when you were a kid. *cough, cough* … Or, you just miss certain people…
Bah Humbug:
Humbugs are a British candy – not particularly exciting, brown striped (boring), and well, I think, kind of “bah”… or was that “BLAH”? Do I need to say more? Bitter…. (As an old term, Humbug also means “hoax or gest”.)
Woohoo It’s Christmas!:
Consumerism raises it’s excited head; you rush about hysterically (in the good manic way) playing beat the Christmas clock (with Christmas tunes), getting cards sent off, presents in the mail, the perfect food planned & cooked. You try to visit everyone you have ever known in one or two weeks, you consume tons of wine in a justified manner (it IS, after all, Christmas!). And, on Christmas Day or Eve you jump around in silly glee for all the goodies you get to open and share, maybe.
So.. this time of year for you? Under which category do you fall?
Moi?
I bounce around all three. I know, it’s a wishy-washy answer but I do tend to relate to Charlie Brown. Staring at the Christmasy animated screen saver at my chiropractor’s for the last few visits made me nostalgic for my old country home, and the warm lights in the snow. Then I spotted a glitch. No-one in this ideal community with it’s frozen pond skating rink in the center were actually walking together. The little computer generated people were programmed to avoid togetherness, and stroll solo. Not terribly cozy!
Whew… I felt much better, and returned to bah humbugness (it’s easier, right?). That was a close call. But, then I heard Bing Crosby singing in the background and nostalgia caught me again. ARG…
Christmas was my small family’s favourite time of year. Everyone was pretty relaxed, mostly, and we made a lot of our gifts. Creativity was bubbling, and mysterious. Dad insisted on singing his favourite Frank Sinatra songs. And, we lived in the country or in early days, a little town of Banff. It was picture perfect and we had fun.
Times have changed, obviously, so now the challenge is to accept Christmas as a different celebration, and to enjoy it with a new perspective. Not always easy but, possible.
I wish for all of you a peaceful, warm, friend and family filled time. And, if you don’t have that, I wish for you, peace within. Even if you are in the Bah Humbug category, buy yourself a special coffee and, go ahead, smile and wish someone well. You might be surprised how it warms your heart!
Kaleden in the Okanagan
Since our film editor friends moved to the Okanagan to become vineyard masters, I have dreamed of picking grapes for them. (My first job as a youngster, outside the family business, was picking strawberries. Gathering food from the earth seems to be something in my blood.) Plus, there seemed to be a bit more stress floating around, and my instincts plucked at my sleeve to get back to doctor nature.
Picking merlot grapes (and the bucket became a container!)
My dream came true last weekend. A perfect sunny, dry weekend in the Okanagan draped itself out for us to dive under grape leaves and discover the bulbous clusters of merlot grapes.
Abundant merlot grapes!
I was in heaven, and Peter seemed pretty happy, too. Between the four of us, we picked over a 1000 lbs of grapes before the light faded to dusk. Ahhh… good healthy tangible work.
While I was picking I never thought of anything else. Nothing. Just me and the grapes. The best meditation ever!
Peter happily picking grapes!
But, that wasn’t the end.
Nope… We were taken on a journey that would usher us into the late night of wine making.
However, we did have the odd break for wine tasting, cheese savouring, and other food making, bien sur!
The steps to wine making were new to me, so everything was an adventure. A focussed healthy physical experience.
Loading up some of our buckets of grapes
Once all our grapes were in the building, we loaded them in the bins, passing them through a crusher. This is to help separate the grapes from their stocks. The merlots were a bit stubborn so we had some grape handling to do as well! (no feet)
Crushing the grapes, catching most of the stocks
Once all squished into the bin we had to leave the grapes sit for awhile.
Wine consuming, I mean tasting, time!
Later in the evening, we had to decide whether to wait until morning to siphon off the juice for a rosé, or seize the moment before bed.
After testing the colour a few times, we concluded everyone had to get off the couch and head out for the “pressing”.
Which we did. And, it was the right decision.
Squished grapes into the press (see the juice!)
Pressing! Those grapes make you work!
The remaining crushed grape "cake"
After 2 pressings- our final result.. varied rosé
The juice we siphoned off will sit for 6 months before being bottled next April.
After this enriching weekend, we will never look at a grape again in the same way.
The following days, once returned to the city were calmer. And, I was clearer and able to listen to a very important bit of advice that came to me in my solitude. The muse could finally confer with me without any interference. I reevaluated a situation and made a wise decision.
Thank you to our friends for the opportunity to meditate with the grapes. (And, make some wine!)
I remember Lucille Ball had a little bit different experience with her grape crushing time in Italy! Not so meditative!
I think we decided on twitter that it would be Saturday… but that was just yesterday.
So.
Here I am with a wee poem from last summer.
Air
Little sparrow
Gasping for air
Canary saying
Don’t go in there
Yellow dash
Yellow pile
Sparrow tips toes
Backward
Wings not yet
Clipped.
Yellow bird on our PEI land
This summer I was helping my parents make a significant change in their life. It was a very challenging time. To cope, I showed up at my journal nightly, wrote an entry and a poem. Not all were works of art, but as I briefly speak about on my website, I showed up. And, it was good for me.
In a bold move, here is one:
Dandelion
Murky tear
Dandelion
Staying staunch
Wind pressing
Shaking her
legs
Fuzzy head
Barely intact
Big whoosh
Seeds part
Doing what
They’re supposed to
Bare stem
Bleeds a
White speck
of juice.
A murky tear.
The summer has passed without a wee blog post or two from me. I have a good excuse.
It was one of those periods in life where you suffer, you grow, you pull your hair out, you cry, you pretend you’re a stand-up comic to get through moments, you rise to the challenges, you defend, you protect, you want to kill, you pack, you lug, you accept angelic help, you write (journal), you question, you are a hero, you are blamed, you are loved, you create, you be-friend, you pretend, you don’t sleep much, and….. somehow, you survive.
Now that I’m back in our humble abode, in Vancouver, I look for ways to return to me. To my life. I find I long to get rid of stuff, move us into a bigger apartment, and change my old habits. It’s a positive thing.
One very comforting activity came back to me in a reminding gift from my friend, Paula: a welcome home card with encouraging words, and a little jar of yummy homemade apricot jam.
Jam.
Oh yeah. I remember. I like making jam. I love picking fruit, and turning it into something.
So, that’s what I did.
Proud of our berries
I was fortunate to be able to catch the last of the apricots (thank you for being a delayed summer), and also gather blackberries in my neighbourhood with my friend. (free fruit is even better!) And, I “holed up” in my tiny kitchen, and happily got into jam making. Ahhh… bubble, bubble, toil, and NO trouble….
A tweet from Angela (@Tyranngosaurus) wanting to know my recipe prompted this post. So bear with me as I reveal my easy Blackberry and Apple Jam recipe for her.
Blackberries from my 'hood
4 large apples (800g), 800g of blackberries (you could use your Saskatoon berries, Angela), 1/2 cup water, 4 cups of sugar (approx.)
Apples are a great natural pectin
Peel, core, and finely chop apples. Combine apples, berries, & water in large saucepan.
Bring to boil, simmer, covered for about 30 minutes or until fruit is soft. Measure fruit mixture, allow 3/4 cup sugar to each cup of fruit mixture (I actually cut down on the sugar and it turns out fine… hate using too much of that white stuff!).
Using a little less sugar
Return fruit mixture & sugar to pan, stir over heat, without boiling, until sugar is dissolved. Bring to boil, boil uncovered, without stirring, for about 15 minutes, or until jam jells when tested. Pour into hot sterilised jars; seal when cold. (I seal when hot and listen for the *pinging* of the lids closing down as they cool.) Makes about 6 cups.
Trying not to spill!
Some Trilby tips (I’m not really an expert): get softish apples so they melt away with the berries. Apples are really good as a natural pectin so you don’t need to add any fake pectin. And, don’t be nervous about playing with the measurements, especially the sugar. It always seems to work out for me. And, if your jam is a bit liquid, don’t worry, it’s great on yogurt & ice cream!! That’s our specialty, even with firm jam!
Funny how a simple “back to basics” action can calm the soul. I wonder why? It doesn’t really matter, does it? We now have some good treats for our winter blues, and some special gifts for those valued people in your life.
What do you do to get back to yourself?
Jam therapy
I had a thought. A question. Something I was wondering about. And, wondering if you ponder it as well.
Do you feel that with all the opportunities to express, share, and be present with social media platforms, blogs etc, that you have to or should be positive all the time? Do you sense there is no room for some difficult or more sombre truths of your life? Do you think it’s bad business to share harder moments, or challenging “I hate these times” moments?
"Dali in the Alley" by Chara Berk Photography
Sometimes I feel that way.
I post a gratitude list at the end of every day, finding it a good way to appreciate the positive aspects of my life, regardless of the type of day I’ve had. It’s a good way to go to sleep. My ritual (inspired by a friend) has helped me especially when I slip into examining what is NOT working. (guess we all do)
But, sometimes I wonder if gives a false impression. Your life appears successful with very few bumps in your social media streams. Then… does that affect your readers’ viewpoint of their life? “Wish my life was as interesting as hers” …kind of the same idea of comparing your life to a movie where they avoid all the quotidian because, well, it’s just not interesting in a film.
A tad philosophical I know but.. I’m curious. Do you allow yourself to share some of those tougher moments? And, if you do, what kind of feedback do you receive? And, how do you feel if you do reveal these darker occasions?
I remember hinting on twitter I was having a tough moment one time. A friendly, compassionate connection “direct messaged” me to see if I was okay. We ended up having a private message exchange and I have to say… it was a cathartic and helpful.
Perhaps witnessing a vulnerable moment via social media can help us, as readers. It might give us an opportunity to give some warmth, and also know we are not alone. A good thing, yes?
I guess we can assume that life being what it is, everyone is surely having “moments”, but keeping it private. (most of the time)
I would love to hear your thoughts.
Today is Earth Day.
It strikes me strange to have an Earth Day because every day should be organically, naturally Earth Day. However, that’s what we need to do now. Name days so we don’t forget.
When I was a kid, being near nature and the earth was the essence of my being. I was fortunate to be raised in both the Rockies and the eastern Maritimes, in the country. I know what it is like to be at the summit of a Rocky Mountain, to walk barefoot in the sand, to swim in a lake and the salty ocean, to hike through ancient forests, to lay in the middle of a field in the wind. I have a respect for the expansion of the prairies, and the approaching storms. I have hiked solo through the summits, and felt the smallness of my existence. A humbling experience.
Today, I’ll give a special nod to the gifts nature has given me.
Thank you to Michael Jackson who gave his energetic passion to the voice of Nature.
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