live your life...

Anyone who followed along during our trip to Australia might remember that for one day, we hopped on a sail boat and spent about ten hours visiting the Great Barrier Reef. Our entire visit to the North Eastern part of Australia was sort of a last minute decision actually. We had originally decided that we would visit either the Outback or the Great Barrier Reef, but didn’t think that we had the time or money to visit both. We figured that since our last trip to Hawaii was tropical, it made more sense to visit Ayers Rock and the Red Center, an environment that neither of us had ever seen before. We couldn’t do it though…we couldn’t get that close to the Reef and not stop by to say hello! So we trimmed a little bit of time here and there, dug down deeper into our already dwindling pockets and managed a short yet amazing visit to one of the most spectacular places on earth.

So early one cloudy Monday morning in April, we got up with the sun and made our way to the Pier in Cairns, Australia. Around 8am, we stepped on our boat, The Passions of Paradise, with about fifty other passengers and began our trek out into the ocean to visit one of the great wonders of the world. As we set out to sea, the skies opened up and gave us a glorious day (and a sunburn to prove it!). Spending the day in close quarters with that many other people gives you the opportunity to make many new friends…and in our case, it also provided the opportunity to witness first hand just how much Europeans enjoy taking their clothes off in public (a blog for another time!)! But for a person like my self, it also offered up the perfect environment for people watching…a hobby that I love immensely!

As we set out to find our location on the Reef, Steve and I spent many hours lounging in the sun along the front of the boat and taking in the rare occasion to be doing…well, nothing! During that time, I noticed three young girls. They must have been in their late teens or early twenties (twenty-one at the most I would say) and the three of them were having the time of their lives! It was so fun watching them throughout the day and remembering what it was like to be that age. I was a very different person at that time in my life and while it wasn’t really that long ago…it certainly seems far in terms of experience. Right away, I noticed that all three of them had identical tattoos on the outside of their right foot. They were pretty tattoos that appeared to be cursive writing. I couldn't figure out what they said at first, but once I did, the blissful state of perfect contentment that they were experiencing suddenly seemed to make perfect sense...

Live Your Life

Live your life! How beautiful is that? Right away, I found my mind screaming out “I want one of those tattoos!” Then I remembered my low tolerance for pain and quickly decided to retract that comment! But these girls were indeed living their lives...you could see it in their faces and I loved it! What I loved most though was the word “your”. Live your life. Not your neighbor’s life or your colleague’s life; not the life your parents may have wanted you to live and not Heidi Klum’s life (as appealing as that may sound!)…but YOUR life, whatever that may be. I think the reason that this has stuck with me so much is because I’m terrible at comparing myself to others and believing that my life needs to look more like theirs. The art of comparison is my addiction of choice and there seems to be, in this world of endless airbrushing and reality television, no end to picking your poison! Even in my every day reality, I am surrounded by truly spectacular women; beautiful, ambitious, talented, successful, adored…you name it and my friends possess it all. And that’s what I love about them. It’s also why I need to be reminded on a regular basis to live MY life…because mine is different than theirs, sometimes by choice, other times not but either way…I’ve learned that it’s a long, slow death trying to be somebody else. Make no mistake about it though , it still hasn’t stopped me from trying!

As inspired as I am by this tattoo that I saw on the other side of the world, I’m also well aware of just how daunting a task this really is. Not so much the living your life part…but more so, the figuring out what your life is really about. How do you want to live your life is the tricky part, at least for me. Even then, knowing is very different than doing. Actually, isn’t doing the hard part of any task or goal? Who ever said that knowledge is power clearly never tried going through Facebook detox!

However, all this being said, the last month has also made me realize that you could very well spend an entire lifetime knowing or wanting or dreaming or waiting and never doing. And this needs to stop, at least for me. I’ll admit that I’m pretty good at achieving the big things but there are little things, day to day things, that I’ve been wanting to tackle for some time and I always find a reason not to. Ironically enough, usually that reason is life itself!

They are all things that are good for me…things that would better my life…things that would better me as a person…things that I don’t want to put off any longer…things that matter. As we stumble through the journey that we laughingly call life…we learn that there is no better time and quite possible, no other time…than now. And so it begins…I’m going to live my life. I’m going to live it more happily…more thoughtfully…more genuinely…more hopefully. I’m going to live more of my life and less of others and hopefully, throughout the process…I’m going to learn a bit more about what exactly that is because at this point...I'm still not sure.

But just so I’m clear…I’m not getting a tattoo!

the window of the soul...

My husband has the most amazing eyes!

I'm sure that most wives would stake that claim as their own, but it's true...they are truly incredible. He argues with me that they are plain and boring but he's wrong! He's got surprisingly long eyelashes and whenever he washes his face or takes a shower, little drops of water will gather at the end of his lashes and I can never seem to take my own eyes off of him.

I have never been more in love with my husband than I have during this past two weeks. This is the first time that Steve and I have experienced this kind of loss together and while you always hope for the best, it's often hard to predict how a couple will react under such circumstances. Sometimes, people become so overwhelmed with their own grief that it's hard to remember you are a part of a marriage. People often cope very differently with grief as well and that, in and of itself, can cause unintentional distance. It think that everyone who enters into marriage anticipates that there will be challenges along the way but I’m thankful to say that Steve and I didn’t let this become one of them. We grieved together and we mourned together but we never lost sight of each other even for a moment. We looked back sadly at the path we were once on, we looked around at the changes that were happening and we looked ahead at the future that’s a bit different than what we had hoped for…but we never took our eyes off each other. I’m humbled by the strength and grace of our marriage and for being a part of this joint force that is so much bigger than either of us.

I hope that when we have kids one day...they have his eyes.

times like these...

I haven’t listened to music much lately in the past couple of weeks, which is odd because I need music the way I need oxygen. Not a single day goes by when I’m not listening to something on my computer at work and then plugged into earphones when I’m walking or running. It’s a rare sight to not see me accompanied with a soundtrack of some kind.

I’ve craved silence though lately. I’ve needed solitude and even the poetic words of my favourite musicians couldn’t pull me out of hiding. I’ll admit…the quiet is nice. Being left alone with my thoughts and emotions has been enlightening and I think in many ways, has helped ease the pain of this process a little bit.

I felt a bit lonely last night though. It seems strange to feel that way when we’ve been completely surrounded by so much love and support but alas, I needed my friends…my other friends…my melodic friends! So I took the ipod from it’s home in the living room, went upstairs to our bedroom, plugged in my earphones and listened to whatever song happen to come on.

Sure enough, I had to laugh when the moment I pressed play, the Foo Fighters enlightened me with this…

I am a one way motorway
I’m the one that drives away
Then follows your back home
I am a street light shining
I’m a wild light blinding bright
Burning off alone

It’s times like these you learn to live again
It’s times like these you give and give again
It’s times like these you learn to love again
It’s times like these time and time again

I am a new day rising
I’m a brand new sky
To hang the stars upon tonight
I am a little divided
Do I stay or run away
And leave it all behind?

It’s times like these you learn to live again
It’s times like these you give and give again
It’s times like these you learn to love again
It’s times like these time and time again

Coincidence? Probably not!

I always knew God was a fan of rock music!!!

{ I need a hug }

awakenings...

“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away” ~ Job 1:21

I’ve been thinking about this passage a lot lately. I woke up this morning finally starting to feel like myself again. I’ve been a bit anxious about the dark lately and finding myself procrastinating about having to turn off the lights each night. Things always seem harder for me in the dark and it was such a relief to awake this morning realizing that I had finally slept soundly through the night.

When I reflect on all that we’ve been through over the past week, I recognize more and more how hard it is for us humans to deal with the unexpected. Job 1:21 clearly states that the powers that be hold the future in their hands, and yet we are a breed that thrives off having control. We’ve managed to control so much of our lives and our world; we control our climates and our communication, we control our schedules and our need for convenience. We can even control our moods and our sleep patterns through a variety of means. Nature doesn’t play a very strong role in our day to day lives anymore and when something comes along that can’t be controlled with technology or medication, we find ourselves crippled in fear at our inability to let go of the final outcome.

But alas, the Lord gives and the Lord takes away. For better or for worse, this is life. And like Jacob, we struggle with it. We fight with God over it and in the end, we lose. We stumble over ourselves trying to prevent anything from being taken away but why does it have to be such a bad thing? It’s true…the Lord does take away jobs, loved ones and security. But the Lord also takes away fear, doubt and cancer.

As I sit in the midst of the latest that has been taken away, I also realize that it’s small in comparison to what has been given. While our joy and anticipation has been taken away, the necessary strength and courage has been given. While innocence and immediate hope has been taken away, faithfulness and trust has been given. While certainty and confidence were taken away, perspective and gratitude were given.

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.

Life is really about character and the only way to determine our future is by how we choose to handle the past. A life spent only in blissful perfection is not a life gained by knowledge or growth. Can you fully appreciate the happiness never having experienced the pain? Can you truly leave a mark if you’ve never been inflicted with one?

I’ve decided to take this as a time to grow. I’ve decided that as we cradle our heads in our hands, we will take this experience and add another notch in our belts. It will be yet another battle scar in a life that is uniquely ours. The dust is settling and we are opening our eyes in astonishment at how much life can change so quickly and more so, just how much we can change with it. For all of our controlling tendencies, it’s possible that we don’t give ourselves enough credit.

I remember vividly standing in our shower saying out loud to myself “I don’t think that I can do this” and all the while, suddenly realizing that I was doing this. It was happening and I was okay. It wasn’t pleasant and it wasn’t pretty but the battlefields of life seldom are. But sure enough, I was still breathing and living and surviving and being. Life was happening and so was I. In all of my worst imaginings, I would have been curled on the floor of the shower in a twisted mess of panic and despair. Instead, I breathed, and I breathed, and I breathed again.

And that’s what you do; you breathe and you breathe and you breathe again until one day you wake up feeling more like more yourself because for every restless night there awaits a new awakening.

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.

voices...

Did you ever have an imaginary friend when you were young?

I spent a lot of time by myself when I was a little girl, mostly because of school; the bus ride was long, the bus stop was far and I usually had a couple of hours to myself before my Mom arrived home from work. I can’t remember how old I was but at one point in time, my Mom and I moved to a newer neighborhood in London and our home was still surrounded by wide open spaces that hadn’t yet been developed. I used to have to walk through a large field to get from my bus stop to our house and the walk was about a kilometer in distance – not far as an adult but certainly a hike for a little kid, especially through an empty field and with a vivid imagination!

It was during this time that I met Penelope. She was my imaginary friend. She was older and wiser and made the time by myself a little less lonely. At first, she was only around during my walks to and from the bus stops. Then she would appear on nights when I would lie awake in my bed unable to sleep. Eventually, she was always just kind of there…lingering by my side. She would talk me out of being scared or help me to mentally prepare myself when I knew I was about to get in trouble for something. She tried to help me with my math homework too but we both knew that was a lost cause!

In grade six, just after my Grandmother died, I started talking to her instead. I would spend countless hours conversing with her and asking for her advice. I missed her immensely and needed someone to listen to me. I needed someone who understood the people around me better than I did and someone who could guide me through the endless web of adolescence. Her absence was difficult for me and talking to her as though she was right next to me made the pain seem more bearable.

It wasn’t until a desperate night in grade eleven that I spoke to the God for the first time. I was tired, in mind and body, and desperately needed my life to be different. The last couple of years had been tumultuous for my Mother and I and few things seemed like they offered any stability anymore. I remember lying in my bed that night sobbing and begging God to make things different. After crying myself to sleep, I awoke the next morning feeling more peaceful than I had in a long time. Life proceeded to get even harder for the next few years but I continued to talk to God and every now and then, I think that He even talked back.

As you can see, I have a long history of hearing voices! Some people call this mental illness and in a mad attempt to convince myself that I’m not a schizophrenic, I prefer to call it the angels assigned to my case! We do a lot of things to ensure that we don’t feel alone in this world and why shouldn’t we? The love that surrounds us isn’t always so obvious and in some ways, these people…these voices, are merely our calmer and more comforting selves stepping in to take over the reigns; Our alter ego, our divine creation, our higher being…the self we long to be but can’t dig ourselves out of our doubt, our fear and our sorrow long enough to uncover them. We often need to hear things from somewhere else in order to truly listen.

I spoke to God a lot this past weekend. I pleaded in desperation for words…any words. I longed for words that weren’t my own and words that could somehow make this better. While I concede that I may be completely delusional, I’m also willing to testify that when I calmed down long enough to be still, I truly felt someone hold my face gently in their hands and whisper in my ear, “This too shall pass.”

Even more miraculous still were the many voices that followed; the very real voices of the people we love, the people who reached out to us in our sorrow and who asked to carry the weight for us. The people who cried with us and the people cried for us. I am overwhelmed at the amount of love that comes from grief and because of that, I am also forced to wonder if part of the reason such things happen at all is to simply remind us that whether we hear voices or not…we are never alone in this world. Never…

matthew 5:4...

Every day after work, I walk across the Alexandria Bridge to meet Steve. His building is just across the river from ours on the Quebec side and while I can see his office from my own office window, we are still parted by the rushing waters of the Ottawa River and technically, a province apart.

Every evening, when I proceed with my fifteen minute walk, I pass the same people and see the same view every time…and I just love it. The sun is often setting in front of me and the city seems so quiet and tranquil. I have seen that same view through various seasons and weather conditions and times during life, and all the while, it’s always comforting to me. The water still rushes from the current and flags still blow in the distance but the ice melts and the trees bloom or the snow falls and the Christmas lights appear. It’s such a comforting example of how things change yet they always stay the same.

I’m not really a person who likes change very much. The older I get, the more open I am to it, but I still love my routine and the consistency of my life…and my walk across the bridge. I often take that time to breathe deeply and spend some time with myself. Often, as I notice the little things that have changed since the last time I was there; the colour of the sky, the amount of traffic, the number of boats in the river…I wonder about the days when I will be more different than the route that I am walking. I wonder how different the world, my world, will look when I’ve changed more than everything around me.

Tonight, as I walk across my bridge to meet Steve, I will be the different one. I am different today then I was the last time I crossed. I will seem like the shift in the scenery and not the view. I will be the difference in the air and not the temperature. And my world will look different. My world does look different. And it hurts.

The Gospel of Matthew says “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted”, and I believe this to be true. I believe that while I will never be the same person crossing that bridge ever again, I also know that it won’t always seem so different. There will come a time when the person that I’ve become over the course of the past four days won’t stand out so much anymore. I believe that the peace I find when I see the air form over the frozen water or the sun reflect off the building windows is the same peace that will make this walk easier each day. Or at the very least, I hope so. I pray so.

There is a part of me that just wants to stand on that bridge for as long as I can. I want to stand there with the cold air blowing in my face and making my skin feel the way the rest of me does. I want to stand there and watch the sun disappear. I want to watch everyone walk by and new people appear. I want proof that I’m not the only one changing.

I want things to stand still for little while so I can remember what it feels like…

five is such a great number...

I just love living in hockey country!!!

(photo courtesy of The Ottawa Citizen)

so long...

It’s the fifth day of the New Year already! I’ll admit that I’m a total sucker for resolutions. I just love the whole idea of clean slate…a beautiful blank calendar not yet filled with bad judgment or less than stellar moments. As Anne Shirley would say “every day is brand new…with no mistakes in it.”

American Industry Author Bill Vaughn once said, “An optimist stays up until midnight to see the New Year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves.” I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve most definitely been both the pessimist and the optimist. Some years it was all I could to put the year behind me and other times, I could hardly wait for the next year’s arrival. I think that this year, I was more nostalgic than anything else. We had such a wonderful and exciting year that it was kind of hard to say goodbye to 2008. Between our first house, our trip of a lifetime to Australia, the adventures of having our house invaded by Tugger and a million little things in between…2008 was good to us. I welcomed some amazing new relationships into my life, was forced to let go of others (sometimes more than once) and was blessed enough to add yet another year to many of the relationships that continue to build. I laughed, I cried, I pleaded and I raised my hands to the heavens time and time again.

It was definitely one of my better years.

This New Year’s Eve though…I got to celebrate the best of both worlds; giving a fond farewell to 2008 with eager anticipation for 2009. Already, I feel like it’s going to be a year of great change and growth. I guess I’m at a time in my life when I’m far less afraid of the unknown and have decided that even in times that don’t turn out exactly the way you planned… “This too…is God”.

I don’t know what 2009 has planned for us but it sounds like a good number to me! Either way, I think that life is what happens when you’re turning the calendar pages!!!

ringing in the new...

Long before Steve and I knew each other, while I was at the University of Ottawa, Steve was living and studying in Toronto. Many, many years later, when we first started dating, he told me a funny story about a friend of his from Residence during their first year...

Apparently, his friend was a big fan of this relatively unknown rock band named the Rainbow Butt Monkeys. As chance would have it, this group was going to be playing at their campus bar and his friend was planning on being the first in line to be there. Well, fortunately for him, the line wasn't very long as there turned out to be more people in the band than there was in the bar! Poor Rainbow Butt Monkeys! But that's what die hard fans do, right? For better or for worse...they stand in line when no one else does!

Last summer, Steve and I were driving to Tilbury for Heather and Roberta's wedding. Any time we pass through Toronto, we take the opportunity to listen to 102.1 The Edge...one of our country's very best radio stations (in my humble opinion!). Not only do they play great music but they have some of the best radio shows I've ever heard, one of which being The Ongoing History of New Music. I believe that this show used to originally be aired only on The Edge but has since been syndicated nationwide. It's just that great!

Anyways, on this particular occassion, when we were driving through Toronto, they were airing a little segment on {wait for it...} the Rainbow Butt Monkeys!! Steve and I couldn't believe our ears and found ourselves completely enthralled in the apparent legacy that they seemed to have left behind. We heard all about their two albums that were released in 1992 and 1995 but the real surprise came when they were finishing up the segment and mentioned "for those of you who aren't really familiar with the Rainbow Butt Monkeys, maybe you'll be more familiar with their new name...Finger Eleven"

Steve and I sat there as astonished as two people driving on the 401 could possibly be to have just found out that the Rainbow Butt Monkeys were in fact, one of our most favourite Canadian rock bands EVER (their songs are numerous and plenty on my running playlist!)! Our 2008 Juno Award Winners for Best Rock Album of the year had to endure a time when their band members outnumbered their fans?!?! Where is that friend of Steve's now?? He deserves a medal!!!!!

Now armed with our new knowledge regarding their complete devotion and patience towards their love of music, our affinity for Finger Eleven has grown exponentially! Really, how could you not love a story like that?!?! So, to show our appreciation in return, we braved the cold Ottawa night in -29 degrees Celcius to ring in the New Year with one of our favourite bands! After they watched Canada beat the U.S. in the World Junior Hockey Championships (apparently they were treated like rock stars or something!!) and we watched on the big screen downtown...we all joined forces on the canal to hear them play some of their greatest songs and warm up the night! As midnight approached, we all counted down, watched the cold night sky light up with fireworks and sporting Team Canada jerseys a plenty, Finger Eleven belted out their famous song Paralyzer (with a little Pink Floyd in the mix!)...and we showed the rest of the country how New Year's Eve should really be done; with great Canadian hockey, great Canadian rock music and great Canadian frostbite!!!!!