Enough Already!

It was a Thursday. It started like most Thursdays. An extra hot cappuccino and scrambled eggs. To begin with, I hadn’t planned on crossing “Dumpster Diving” off my bucket list. Mainly because

dumpsterdiving was never on my bucket list. But there it is. Imperfectly imagined. 

This may not have been a deeply salient experience, but all of this happened; more or less. It also

could have lead one to drinking gin at 9 o’clock in the morning. 

 

Here’s what happened.I was once again asked to decorate for the CADS spring gala.

As in most impecunious decorating jobs, it is de rigueur to repeat.

One also is afforded the added challenge of coming up with “cost-effective” ideas. i.e. FREE. 

 

So I thought, for this year, why don’t I use skis and ski boots as the mainstay? 

 

The question now becomes, how was I going to get a zillion free skis and boots? 

 

Kijii.

 

I submitted my plea.

 

Unbeknownst to me, it just so happened that the “biggest ski sale in the world” was starting the next day

– and it just so happened that a volunteer from the sale saw my ad late that night. 

 

She contacted me.

 

I contacted her.

 

And the rest is dumpster history. 
 

 

That is, after two hours of precariously draping over the edge of this 

massive bin laboriously untangling skis from each other and sifting 

through soggy Starbucks cups, half-eaten McDonalds hamburgers and 

Twinkies, cardboard and bubble wrap, bologna wrappers and apple cores, 

growth hormone flyers and a broken umbrella, ripped sweaters and i-Phone 

cords, dripping beer cans and sticky lime green fluorescent tape. 



So two hours later, looking like 40 miles of rough road with a couple of digits 

ceremoniously glued together, I had this.
 Jesus, Mary, and Joseph and all his carpenter friends!

 

“Enough.”, said my back. “But I want more.” I answered. “Maybe I can come back tomorrow.” 

“That’s enough.”, said my brain.

“How do you know it’s enough?”, I retorted. 

“I need more.”, now sounding like the whining modulations of a circular saw. 

“Enough is enough.”, repeated my back.

 

Our culture measures our worth by our efficiency, our earnings, or our ability to perform. Many of usthink that we are not allowed to say we have enough. It almost seems undemocratic. 

 

Enough doesn’t mean everything is perfect, complete or done; it simply means we have enough

because we’ve met a goal.

 

Whether in our home, at work, in our closet, on our dinner plate, or in our schedule, we get to say,

“That’s enough.” 

 

We not only get to say enough, we have to say it.
 

 
So how much is enough? Are 2 pairs of running shoes enough?

Are 6 black tee shirts enough?

Are 3 sets of dishes enough – one set for company that never seems to get used?

Are 47 pairs of skis enough? 

 

 Again, how much is enough?

We need to be watchful about what comes into our home, and purposeful about what goes out. 

The idea of infinite economic growth is the biggest threat we face.
 

So what can we do differently?
 

1. Don’t buy it unless you really want/need it. – Our reliance on the ability to return pretty much
anything is handy, but not so great for the earth. Why? Because most of those things you return are
not resalable and as a result end up in the dumpster.
 

2. Buy really good quality items. – Invest in something that is good quality so that you don’t end up

having to buy 3 or 4 of the same thing or replace a piece of furniture because it was not solid wood

that can be repaired if chipped or scratched.

3. Organize your belongings so you don’t buy another one of the same because you can’t find it. 

4. Eat those solo bananas. – Often stores throw out solo bananas because no one ever buys them.

So give them some love and put them in your cart.

5. Buy locally. – Buying locally will help reduce waste because local producers are less likely to waste 

food and packaging, merely because they can’t afford to just throw away heaps of what they have produced.

6. Support smaller stores or non-chains.

7. Borrow or barter. – Instead of buying something that you may only use once or twice, think about

who you know that already has one. 

 

 

Sometimes we think our good is not good enough. We forget that our life is enough. That our rutted,

long road is enough – that each day is enough. That our calling, our story, our singleness, our children,

our body, our friends, our health – all of this is more than enough. 
 

We don’t build our life by being better than someone else; we build our life by being better than we

used to be. 

 

By the way if anyone has any skis, snowboards or ski boots they don’t need, I don’t have enough.
 

Nothing Left To Lose

 

Yesterday I lost the cat. So it seems that not only can I lose my bearings, my mind, and my car – often at the same time – I can also lose animals. In my own house. Not to mention, it’s not my cat and it’s a small house. A condo. Small. Really small. 

I would’ve lost my watch too, but I found it when I was looking in the freezer for my sunglasses.

I would appreciate it if you kept this under your hat, as it’s not the kind of information that endears one to many.

But in my defence, this cat makes Houdini look like an amateur. 

 So 4½ hours later, after calling all respective institutions as to what to do when you lose a cat, waiting for a return phone call from the respective owners telling them I had lost the cat, completing all necessary tasks from the respective institutions as to what to do when you lose a cat – along with walking around the neighbourhood for an hour shaking respective treat bag – I was on the phone soliciting sympathy, when I turned around and there he  was…calming watching me from the top of the fireplace mantle wondering what all the fuss was about.

To this day, I have no idea whether The Cat had been in the house the whole time or had sneaked in the open front door, as per instructions from respective institutions when losing a cat.
 

 We have spoken at length in previous posts about my unsurpassable spacial intelligence, i.e. getting lost or losing things – like my car.

Being super organized, I can find a paper clip in under 3 seconds, but trying to find the Starbucks I passed a half hour ago in a new city…well, that’s a different story.

By the way, when I ask for directions, please don’t use words like “east”.
 

 I think most of us only have about eleven genuinely interesting moments in our life; the rest is filler.

Unfortunately, my interesting moments may have been the times I have gotten lost.

Being lost can have it’s benefits, in that I have found find myself in places I never knew were there, in situations I never could have imagined, and with people I would not otherwise have met. 

I mean I could write a field guide to getting lost, but I would probably lose the manuscript. 
 
When I tell others of my inbred misfortune, they shake their heads woefully, as a non-existent sense of direction is as incomprehensible to them as reading a map is to me – no less comforting and much more frightening.Kafka, the great patron of self-criticism, captured this pathology perfectly: “There’s only one thing certain. That is one’s own inadequacy.”Modify your remarks accordingly.

Nevertheless, these episodes make for a ready story when dinner conversation lags. Besides, nobody wants to hear – Yes, everything went according to plan.

Where‘s the story in that?
 

 
 The question then, is how to get lost.

Growth in life happens on the edge, rather than in security. Cause you can’t get far if you observe all the rules.

This “not knowing” is what drives life. It’s curiosity that makes you get up every morning, driving you forward, wondering what’s next. And if you don’t know where you’re going, anywhere seems like an intriguing option.
 
What then, is the difference between not finding your way and losing yourself? 

Somewhere in between lies discovery; of places, ideas, and the store with that great pair of shoes you saw yesterday. 
 

Galway, Ireland
…or a cat pillow,
 

Pillows found while getting lost in Bridgetown, Hilo, and Kotor, Montenegro.

 

St John’s, Newfoundland
 or a cat mural. 
 
 

 

Standing Tall

ME: “I’m back.”YOU: “What?”, you ask the Other across the breakfast table, “I didn’t know she was away.”

ME:  “Yessss…I just drove 11,767 kms. forth and back across our fair and great country – an accomplishment of galactic proportions and worthy of worship.
I mean, you didn’t even miss me?”

YOU: “Ummm….”

Yup, I just stepped out for a breath of fresh air and the next thing I knew I was in the Bata Shoe Museum in Toronto.
 
 It’s the shoes.

It’s always the shoes. The first step to another adventure.
 

By the way, if money can’t buy happiness, explain shoes. 
 
Victoria, Prince Edward Island
 

Grant me chastity and self-control, but please, God, not yet. – St. Augustine
Travelling the breadth of our country is like continually writing a love letter, as each step I took led to a deeper admiration, appreciation and understanding that we are always in partnership with nature and humanity.

Even if we live alone or cloistered like the nuns in Le Monastère des Augustines in Quebec City (staying here was the highlight of my trip), no one exists alone in this world. https://monastere.ca/en
 

 Travelling is one of the few things we undertake in an attempt to make ourselves happy, often in our particular and individual solipsistic way. And often, in mesmerizing ways, we fail.

We get frustrated, obnoxious, impatient, and sometimes downright rude when things don’t go our way, when there are delays, when something is unfamiliar or uncomfortable, or when the obtuse waiter forgets to bring wine with our cheese.
 

 
The Blue Rocks, Nova Scotia
 There are few things that can shake up our baseboards and open up our eyes than travelling.

Except maybe sag and new liver spots.

We no longer have excuses of too much work at the office, we’re the best man at our step-brother’s wedding, have children to take to soccer and mother-in-laws to the doctor – we are stripped clean of all our props.
Travelling is not that simple, and like most everything else, like purging, hanging art and picking exterior colours, it’s an art that has to be learned and practiced.  
 
Lunenburg, Nova Scotia
 Travel makes you focus on the here and now, not the past wrong turn. And trust me, there were many.

Many who wander, are indeed lost. Or is it just me?
 

 But I played the cards I’d been dealt with the elegance of wet cardboard, demonstrating some outstanding bad behaviour. 

(By the way, before you judge someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you judge them, you’re a mile away and you have their shoes.)

 
Nelson Mandela Exhibition: Canadian Museum of Human Rights, Winnipeg
 This shows you how my mind works — quick, and away from the point.

 

There is, in fact, such a thing as going to a place and not actually being there.
But here’s the thing. It is fast becoming an epidemic of epic proportions; taking pictures of anything and anyone that moves or doesn’t, the second one enters a room, sights a building, or of a small bird flying107 feet above them.It is deploring how seldom people actually see – notice details, nuances, the dappling of shapes and shadows, the beauty of imperfection: scratches, chips, cracks. Or pay attention to their feelings and impressions –  not only of simple things, but often impressive things.

We need to slow down and spend longer looking, maybe even leaving your camera in the car in order to enjoy the moment for what it is, and what it leaves you with. 

Think about how often you revisit the multitudes of pictures compared to how often you remember and retell your experiences.
 

And how often do you allow yourself to sit at a cafe or a park bench, and just watch people? 
 
 
Quebec City
 
We travellers lose things that are precious to us (makeup kit, pyjamas bottoms, driver’s license, lens cap, one sandal, iPhone cord, three socks and four books), have plans that fall apart and then come together, find folk artisans, hat-makers to the stars, the tallest waterfall, pilot whales and bald eagles, unknown animals in trees, a weird sculpture park, a gravity hill, and make profound friendships with people we may never see again.
 
 
Timmons Folk Art – Pleasant Bay, Nova Scotia
 
 
Lakenenland – Marquette County, Michigan
 
                  Somewhere, U.S.A.                                                                  Ellsworth, Michigan
             Pleasant Bay, Nova Scotia                                                           Massey Motel, Michigan
 Travelling can teach us to try new colour combinations, to add more texture, or to sprinkle some joy with unique and special pieces purchased along the way. These are the pieces that level up a room, adding personality and soul, as well as reminding you of your travels every time you step into the room. 
 
              Lunenburg, Nova Scotia                                                    Victoria, Prince Edward Island
                     Bar Harbour, Maine                                                       Blue Rocks, Nova Scotia
 Wherever you go, you bring yourself along with you.
Travel, like our home, has a memorializing function, and what they are helping us to remember is, strangely enough, ourselves.
Travelling, like a well-designed room, requires at once, a touch of sophistication whilst having an edge.In a room, that means pairing something slick or smooth with an element that is rough or has that timeworn patina; a bit of grit with a whole lotta glam. 
 Saint-Pierre-de-Ile-d’Orleans, Quebec
 The lessons we learn while traveling are the ones we receive on our inward journey. That is the true power of travel. It shows us that there’s a world of endless opportunity to be discovered and waiting for us. Ultimately it’s the journey within the journey that matters the most, and which will take us the furthest.
 

Meanderings and Musings

It has and will be, an odd year of travel for me. First and foremost, I seemed to have inadvertently forgot to book a multitude of flights during the first 6 months, given it was the coldest winter since Moses was a child.
 
 
  Parking bans. Snowmageddon. Polar vortex. Heaping snowbanks. Bone-chilling mornings. Diving mercury. Giant snowbanks. Storm warnings. Collective pleas for mercy. Ploughing. Pushing. Shovelling. Ploughing. Pushing. Shovelling.

It got to be that complaining about the cold weather was a waste of warm air. 
 

When my brain finally thawed out about June 4, it seemed I still hadn’t remembered about airplanes. Instead – again inadvertently – I chose driving trips. As in, looking-like-a-carseat. The only thing I love less than driving trips, is I-Love-Not-Camping trips.

I honestly have no idea how this happened. A complete digression from real life as I know it.  Not life-altering shocks, only subtle diminishment. 
 

 
  Make Me Wanna Roll My Windows Down and Cruise
Pondering this turn of affairs, I realized that I have partaken in a substantial number of global and epic drives: The Road to Hana in Maui, The Great Ocean Road in Australia, The Oregon Trail, Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way, The Cabot Trail, a few hundred kms. of Route 66, The Yukon Golden Circle, meandering through the Alps, The Alaska Highway, The Adriatic Highway from Montenegro to Croatia, Badlands National Park, Germany’s Black Forest Panoramic Route, our own Icefields Parkway and Cowboy Trail, and who can beat driving through smoke-filled British Columbia every summer. So I guess it’s no surprise that I’m going to embark and repeat one I’ve done before. But this time I am doing it the opposite way, circumnavigating the globe by weaving through the Martimes and Maine from Toronto, and then driving all the way back.

To drive across Canada once may be regarded as misfortune.
To drive across twice looks like carelessness.

It may also be that I felt in advance the vague distaste of physical exertion, so sitting in a car would alleviate any of this risk.

As Oscar Wilde quipped, I have one of those terrible weak natures that is not susceptible to influence. 

Keep me in your prayer pot. 

  What is travel and why do we do it?
Ask 20 people and they will give 20 different answers.

There is not just one kind of journey. There are those journeys that have a set itinerary and destination, where the traveller is simply along for the ride. A getaway. A vacation. A change of scenery. A break.

And then there are journeys that lack any sort of distinct roadmap. This is the kind that some consider to be real travel. The kind of travel that changes who you are and how you see the world.
 

Fresh air, great scenery, and the wide open road are the Holy Trinity of freedom.
  Some Chinese dude said that a good traveller has no fixed plans and is not intent of arriving.
  But being lost can have it’s benefits, in that I have found find myself in places I never knew were there, in situations I never could have imagined, and with people I would not otherwise have met.
Anais Nin said, “It is a sign of great inner insecurity to be hostile to the unfamiliar.” And if you don’t know where you’re going, anywhere seems like an intriguing option. 

But the last time I checked, I’m exactly where I usually am.

Lost.

Wishing I had brought breadcrumbs. 

  I envy those blessed with an innate sense of direction – people who can find their way back to a Starbucks passed over an hour ago…what store had that polka dot sweater…the tall cathedral in the middle of the square.

Had I been leading the pioneers in Westward Ho!, we would still be going in circles somewhere in New Jersey.

But I do strive to stay out of areas with high winds, lots of ice, and places where there is country and western music.

I have also tried filing with the Canadian Unfairness Commission, but they haven’t as yet responded. 

  As they say, anything worth doing, is worth doing badly. Not that that has stopped me. 
I have long surrendered to getting lost, choosing instead to romanticize these episodes, making for a ready story when dinner conversation lags.Besides, nobody wants to hear that – Yes, everything went according to plan.

How can that even be remotely interesting? 

  I have discovered through pugilistic experiences that one of the secrets of life is to keep expectations low. Luckily I am still drinking, for that should help immensely.
 
So where I am going with this? In case you missed it, this is a pun. 
I have never forgotten a story interior decorator Alexandra Stoddard tells of her first boss, who turned the office lights off at five o’clock every workday believing that her employees should use their evenings to go to places and events such as art galleries, historic buildings, concerts, museums, films, back alleys, or to be in nature. She felt that partaking and involving themselves in outside pursuits and places would enable them to become better designers; well-rounded, creative, able to think outside the box, and better able to serve themselves and others.
 
 
Curiosity is our friend that teaches us how to become ourselves. And it’s a very gentle friend and a very forgiving friend, and a very constant one.                                                                                      – Elizabeth Gilbert
Without wanderlust and an acute case of curiosity, even if it is only in your own backyard, one may get stuck in a routine, growing stagnant and complacent. Unless you happen to be Emily Dickinson, Brian Wilson or Howard Hughes.
As Saint Augustine famously said, “The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.”We are only one thing among many.”
Speaking of wanderlust, I wandered into the bathroom of a nightclub last night and found this gem of requisite information. Did you know that every 5 years a woman uses her height in lipstick?

I know you are thinking – how would they even measure that?

It can leave you reeling. 

 

It is truly surprising what one can discover and uncover at places you have probably passed a zillion times, but have never thought to investigate.

Yes, you say – I’ll stop someday when I have time or bronchitis, which amounts to the same thing.  
  But how pray tell, are you ever going to find the overlooked and the undervalued.

…the chartreuse vase, the dreamy bedding, that set of penguin salt and pepper shakers, the cat pillow, the tropical flamingo print bean bag chair, the powder blue pipework candelabra, or a great shoe sale?
 

  It’s just simply a matter of sticking your head out and going for it.

                                                                                     

Lost Connections

I am struggling to write this post. Any encouragement I can get will be good for my soul at a time when I’m just tempted to watch The Office on Netflix. Then again, if I don’t put a post out, I won’t have to encounter the disappointment that follows from contact with reality. 
One reason I am struggling, is that iCloud has not been syncing my photographs or contacts. In fact, at last count, I have 13,749 contacts. I even tried using my best technological knowledge and unplugged my computer and plugged it back in. Secondly, I hate being confined, even if it is for my own good. And others.I’m with Patty Smith who opens her book, “M Train”, with the line, “It’s not so easy writing about nothing.” 

I don’t know. Many of you say I’ve been doing that for years. 

The part of writing that most confounds me most is the writing part.
 

  Samuel Beckett said, “There are two moments worthwhile in writing, the one where you start and the other where you throw it in the waste-paper basket.”

Nevertheless, I’m starting.  And since I can’t come up with anything, let’s talk about my latest peregrination.
 

  Last week I was strolling down what is now my favourite street in Vancouver – Main Street.

Yes. Even though Vancouver is a beautifully blustering city with a population of 631,486 as of the 2016 census, it has a Main Street. It’s kinda in the middle of the city. The middle part. 

Now, there is nothing more in the world I LOVE, than to wander the streets with my camera – and VISA card.

Cause if money can’t buy happiness, explain shoes.
 

And after that, there is nothing more I love than a creative, intriguing window display. 
 
  Notwithstanding these fantastic window displays, I was also captivated by what they had printed on their store window as their philosophy of being.  
 
 
  Reconfigure, embellish, reimagine, patch.

These four words reminded me that we don’t have to copy the customs of the world, but instead take a new and fresh interest in everything we do and think, reminded that we are called to move in this world like a reed, not a rock.

We need to put effort into discovering fresh sources of novelty, into studying it properly with our eyes wide open.

At its best, art is a tool that show us how little we have understood and how little we have noticed.
 

  When was the last time you looked at anything solely and concentratedly for its own sake?
 
  The way to develop the habit of really seeing, is to pause when something is beautiful or good or catches your attention.

Pause –  then totally immerse yourself in the experience of savouring. It’s not natural to us – it’s learned behaviour and a choice. 

Actions develop into habits, which in turn ultimately harden into character. 
 

  Reconfigure, embellish, reimagine, patch.

These four words reminded me that we don’t have to copy the customs of the world, but instead take a new and fresh interest in everything we do and think, reminded that we are called to move in this world like a reed, not a rock.

We need to put effort into discovering fresh sources of novelty, into studying it properly with our eyes wide open.

At its best, art is a tool that show us how little we have understood and how little we have noticed.
 

  

Fanny Packs and shoulder pads

Made in Canada 

Trend forecaster Faith Popcorn coined the term “smalling” in 2017 predicting the rise of smaller companies and craftspeople: makers, sewers, artisans, and retailers.  

This ‘smalling’ shift goes hand in hand with diversity, reflecting the trust and the desire to buy from those providing jobs in their community, whilst worrying that international firms are buying brands here and taking away local jobs. 

Call it nostalgia, call it a response to social and economic responsibility, but there is fast becoming a pull toward carefully made, hand-crafted objects.Let’s just hope however, that this doesn’t mean the return of Fanny Packs and shoulder pads.  

Although I do see that macrame plant holders are on the rise. Literally.

 

Now I am not necessarily encouraging you to run down into your basement to unearth some of these long forgotten creations because really, some things are a real case of impaired judgment.

I’m not always sarcastic. Sometimes I’m sleeping.

Speaking of economy, some may call eating 5 boxes of Girl Scout cookies alone, a problem.  

I call it supporting local female entrepreneurs.

 
By the way, experts say that as much as $10B Canadian Tire money is stashed in offshore glove compartments.
 
 
 

A great living space should make you excited to come home every day.

To maintain a sense of surprise, you need to surround yourself with things you really enjoy. Weird or wondrous, wacky or out of this world. They may not be to everyone’s taste, but they mirror your interests and that is what counts.  

For the most part.

A home’s power comes from what is treasured. How you display them is the “coup de grâce”.

The test is passion. And a good idea.  

A good idea always makes the difference between a home you appreciate and a home you adore.

Some details are small in duration rather than in size. 

A peek is often more powerful than a picture window. Like the view from the stair landing. Tomatoes in a bowl. A sculpture in an alcove. Stems of forsythia in a vase.

 
Your home is your story. Take it personally.  

Stating the obvious

 

Imagine everything you’re not seeing.

The patterns of frost on the window, the three oak trees and two robins by the river, the slices of an apple, the chair seat worn from years rocking children to sleep, the buds straining to emerge on the willow, the glow in a child’s eyes, the expired strawberry yogurt in your fridge?
 
Often we see only what is in our own little bubble, the twelve inches around us. We think we are the centre of the galaxy because that is the centre of what we can see, exaggerating our own importance and clinging to false notions of permanence.Could it be because we really don’t want to see? Because once you know something, you have to do something about it. Even if you choose to do nothing, it is now out in your world.

Most people do not see things as they are because they see things as they are.                                                                                                – Fr. Richard Rohr

Over the years, I have learned two very important lessons. I don’t remember the first one, but the second one is to write everything down.
Actually three. The secret to happiness is low expectations.
 

Nobody sees a flower really, it is so small. We haven’t time, and to see takes time.                                                                                       – Georgia O’Keefe

 
Take our incessant addiction to snapping a million trillion pictures on our smartphone. We can and should take pictures of experiences – but only after we experience them.

Otherwise all we have are pictures showing ourselves having experiences that we never actually felt.

Because most of us take pictures before we are actually seeing.  

How many times have you seen people automatically pull out their smartphone upon entering a room, finding a statue, seeing a sunrise – and instantly press the button? Can they even remember being there? 

We are obsessed with documenting events we never truly experienced or earned -–  moments in which we never arrived.

We have to arrive first.

How many misunderstandings would be avoided if we made the time and concerted effort to look at each other eye to eye?

How many bad sofa decisions could we have avoided by sitting in them for a very long time to see how it felt, exploring it’s shape, imagining long conversations?

 
The most important time is now. The present is the only time over which we have power.  The most important person is whoever you are with.

The most important thing is to do good to the person you are with.

How long should we wait until everything is perfectly aligned?  Hospitality does not need to wait for the new sofa or the remodelled bathroom or even the tidied up kitchen. Unless you need a new sofa and the bathroom need to be remodelled.

Life is paradoxical. Paradoxal thinking means embracing brokenness as an integral part of life, opening the heart to something new. It means looking at life as both–and.

Yes, the sofa is both worn and I should get a new one.

So if you need some help buying your new sofa, it seems I will be busy for next 72 hours because I just got an email from Mr/Ivan Ronald who has just met with president Muhammadu Buhari of Nigeria who claimed that he has been trying his best to make sure I am not frustrated that Mr. Robert Graves does not divert my fund into his personal account. But it should be fine because secretary general Mr. António Guterres has decided to waive away all my clearance fees to effect the payment of my compensation of an amount of $10.7 Million  – which I should be receiving any day now. 

Springing Forward…

First off, you can always tell how interested you are going to be in a blog based on how it begins. 

Like if it starts with, “I would like to talk about how to choose the best laundry detergent.”, you would probably press “Delete” before you even check if it’s your brand.

But if it starts with,I first discovered my penchant for decorating whilst surrounded by Western African pygmies in Cameroon while gathering exotic orchids”, I may have you at the ‘blog flap’.

Or not.

Sometimes you can capture your audience by starting with a joke.
A minister was visiting a country church. He began his sermon saying, ”Everyone is going to die.” The minister looked around and noticed a man in the front pew grinning broadly. “Why are you smiling?”“I’m not from this parish”, the man said, “I’m just visiting my sister for the weekend.” 

Or not.

Or maybe your readers just have an excited failure of hilarity.

Or by relaying a story.
 
 
There was this man that drove a stretch of highway past this tattered cardboard sign that read: “Honk if you’re happy.” Yes, a little juvenile and who would do it – such naïveté?But as the story goes, one day when this man drives past the sign with his little girl, on a whim, he beeps the horn. And then every day when he passes the sign, his daughter begs him to do it again, and pretty soon every time he’s on this stretch of highway, this jaded man is anticipating the sign and honking his horn.

And he said, “Just for a moment, I felt a little happier than I had before — as if honking the horn made me happier. If on a one-to-ten scale, I was feeling an emotional two, when I honked the horn, my happiness grew several points. In time, when I turned on to Hwy 544, I noticed that my emotional set point would begin to rise. That entire 13.4 mile stretch began to become a place of emotional rejuvenation for me.”

So the man now has got to find out who put the sign up. He finds a house on the other side of the trees that lined the highway.

He goes to the door and asks the man living there if he knows anything about the happy sign. The man at the door welcomes him in and says yes, yes, he made the sign and this is why.

Day after day he was sitting in a darkened bedroom with his terminally ill young wife, sitting there, watching her every day as she lay waiting to die. And one day when he couldn’t really take it anymore, he painted up that sign and stuck it out by the road, because he said, ‘I just wanted people in their cars not to take this moment for granted. This special, never-again-to-be-repeated moment with the ones they care for most should be savored and they should be aware of the happiness in the moment.’

At first, he said, that after he put out the sign, there was only a honk here and there. His dying wife asked what that was about and the husband explained how he’d put the sign out there. After a few days, there was more honking and then more. And then the husband said that the honking became like medicine to her.

As she lay there, she heard the horns and found great comfort in knowing that she was not isolated in a dark room dying. She was part of the happiness of the world; it was literally all around her. 

Nothing much has to happen for it to be life. 
 
I also have sought to be witty while being informative, but have probably succeeded more in being trenchant and quietly desperate, marrying painful revelations about human behavior (disguised for mine), along with professing the proper height for a kitchen garbage can.
It depends.

But I have found that once you are past your physical peek, of say, 26, it is an incremental dive downhill from there. Contrary to popular opinion, growing up is hard to do.

Nevertheless, I have found that there lay some basic edicts on this path we call life: 
  

  • We have to be aware of what is missing in our lives. We notice as early as children, that most of our needs are usually unmet. 
  • No good story happens by eating a salad.
  • If we have a bad dream, didn’t sleep well or are depressed, we think it had something to do with what we ate—especially if it was pizza. It wasn’t.
  • If somebody tells us what is wrong with us or what they don’t like about us, they are probably, at least to a certain extent, corrrect. Owning up to it right away ends a lot of arguments.
  • Fruits and vegetables deserve a deeper analysis. 
  • Nothing can keep you young like an open mind—except maybe great sex. Heck, even mediocre sex can add a few years.
  • Know that you do not have to be beautiful ’cause that’s why Demi Moore was born.
  • Do not read the article – “442 Tips to Monetize your Social Media Presence in 2018”. It will make you crazy.
  • There are reasons your living room sofa is holding you back.
 
Anyways, this is how I remember it. 
 
 

Awkward silences and other inopportune moments

Fran Lebowitz said that the opposite of talking isn’t listening. The opposite of talking is waiting. For most of us, this is somewhere on the scale next to skydiving or attending someone else’s child’s recital. She also said that there is no such thing as advice to the lovelorn, because if they took advice, they wouldn’t be lovelorn. Wise woman. 
 
There is a practice Australians call dadirrI. This is a type of deep listening: a listening in quiet and stillness that borders on the contemplative, letting your soul catch up with your body. 
Given we no longer have formal rites of passage in our cultures, we need this stillness of contemplation to change us. After all, nothing is happening but the next breath.
 
 
We must go out and rally ourselves to Nature every day. We must make root, send out some little fibre at least, even every winter day.  – Henry David Thoreau
Going nowhere, as Leonard Cohen described it, was the grand adventure that makes sense of everywhere else. It is also a way of falling in love with the world over and over.Finding these moments of interstices or a half hour walk in nature can change the nature of all the other hours.        We Western world adults say that we don’t have time to be still, we aren’t good at it, it’s not for us. But that my dear, is precisely why meditation and stillness is called a practice. Like any skill, we must take the time and practice to be good at it.

While many would term boring, Bertrand Russell would call “fruitful monotony” and essential for happiness.

A generation that cannot endure boredom will be a generation of little men…of men in whom every vital impulse slowly withers, as though they were cut flowers in a vase.  – Bertrand Russell

There is, in fact, such a thing as going to a place, and not actually being there. 
 
Incidentally, it may horrify you to know that contrary to popular opinion and the multitude of over-exposed photos on Facebook, hardly anyone cares about what you are doing, how you perfectly iced those mint chocolate-chip cupcakes, or where you are spending your holidays this year.
 
And there is no point getting tetchy about how your table-mate holds their knife and fork, or being worried that the delivery people left a small scratch on your new coffee table, or that hatchet-throwing will become an Olympic sport. None of this is of any importance against the enormity of the places of nature.
You are here now. Everything passes.
 

Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity. – Simone Weil

We can also practice dadirrI by listening to another: not hurrying, remembering that there is nothing more important than what you are attending to. Dadirri listening is non-judgemental, accepting, and whole-hearted. It is about waiting and not asking questions.
I know. I know. For most of us in this addictive age of hyper screen time where every minute 4,166,667 people are “liking a Facebook post, thinking about being still makes you as nervous as a bushy tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
 
I duly recognize the fact that this is coming from someone who’s adage is ~“If everyone would listen to me, they would always be right.“, and who owns a coffee cup that says, “Everyone is entitled to my opinion.”    And yes, it matters immensely that the chairs are arranged symmetrically around a table; that napkins need to match the placemats; that no intelligent person could think you only use a chopping board to cut a loaf of bread; and that clearly, it is quite acceptable to visit five art galleries on a holiday.
Wonder makes a wonderful life. 
Whatever we need to do to bring us to stillness every day, this sacrament of pause ~ walking, painting, journaling, needlework, listening to music, watching clouds ~ this is the thing we must do.  You want to get in the habit of pausing when something beautiful and good catches your attention ~ the sound of rain, a glorious sunset, a child’s smile, a porcelain tea cup, a kindness bestowed, a fridge stocked with kale…  

Pause, then totally immerse in the experience of savoring it.   

Well, maybe not the kale.

 
As Anne Lamont quips, almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes…including you. 
 
Pentimento. A way of seeing and then seeing again. 
It may be, said the French moralist Joseph de Maistre, that the key lies in not to seek out what is actually new, but to bring a fresh mindset to what we already know but have forgotten to notice. We can cultivate the habit and awareness to see things (and people) anew as if we had never laid eyes on them before, so that their worth and beauty can again become apparent to us.I would although, caution you not to spend an evening perusing your high school yearbook. This item does not fit into either category.
What we do need is people whose attention is not caught up in the trends of the moment and who are not looking in the same direction as everyone else. We need people who are paying attention and scanning the less familiar parts of the world, if only in their own backyard or living room.  
 
This may be the moment where you are tempted to tell me about how the Instapot has changed your life, but I will confess that I am skeptical of the Instapot. It can probably cook rice in under six minutes and defrost an entire turkey in a single bound, but I’m clearly not an early adopter of cooking technology because my main concern is that it’s going to make my kitchen smell funny. Let’s treat the phenomenon of not being interested with cautious respect.
I’ve been wondering how I could make the leap from Instapots to interiors. It’s now quite obvious that I’m not entirely successful.For all of us on Earth School, “Done” is not the goal. Like Not Done Ever.      We, and our home, should be able to accommodate things without messing up some grand scheme. Like, “Should I put matching frames on my pictures?” “Should I buy a loveseat instead of two occasional chairs?” “Should I take sword fighting lessons?” “Where do I put the new baby?” 

Once in a while we should take a look at the whole picture ~ our past and our present. We need to contemplate what we have learned from our mistakes and what gift we have gained?

And by the way, don’t cling to a mistake just because you spent a lot of time making it.

Speaking of pictures and still on the topic of stillness, Everything You Want To Know About Hanging Pictures But Were Afraid to Ask, is as follows. Yes, another great leap across the narrow chasm.Picture hanging has dramatically changed over the past few years. Now almost anything goes. As long as it works. Where we used to hang art gallery style within an inch of its life (most pictures lined up), now it is rare to hang art like this, and not as interesting.

Where once the two-thirds rule was gospel, now we oversize by having a large piece use up most of the wall  ~ or float a small piece on a large wall. As long as it works.

 
Everything Does Not Need To MatchIt is much more interesting if you don’t mix and match. In fact, I always try to display a few disparate items with the art, especially if you are doing a gallery wall or area: i.e. a key, a mask, a wooden letter or plaque. A gallery wall is chic when done well, but very easy to mess up.To achieve a coherent result, keep the language of picture frames similar. For example, an oil painting in a antique wood frame with black-and-white prints in wood gallery frames.
 
Everything Does Not Needs to be Symmetrical While it might be tempting, sometimes the opposite is what ends up looking best. Hang a smaller frame off-center from where you think it should be, or hang various pieces at slightly different heights to give it a more dynamic feel.
 
Dealing with a Large Wall It is tempting to want to do a gallery wall on a large wall, but don’t be afraid of large-scale art. Although a gallery wall is personal and gives you an opportunity to hang all those small pieces of art hiding under your bed, large-scale art can be a wise investment. Not only is it a focal point, but it adds incredible drama to a room. 
 
Hang Art In Unexpected Places    It’s common to hang art above a bed, sofa, and mantel, but think about hanging art in unexpected places like a powder room, the end of a long hallway, above a doorway, the inside of a stairwell, or the wall at the top or bottom of a stairwell. It is like a small surprise waiting every time you turn a corner.
 
Frame Art Professionally     Without a doubt, the best trick for elevating your art and making it look more expensive is custom framing. As for the mats, the days of forest green, navy, burgundy and dusty rose is over. A good framer is paramount in helping you choose the perfect frame and matting
 
And by the way, don’t buy art to match your walls. Buy art because you love it.

Falling into the Present

 
 

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.                                                                           – Ecclesiastes 3 and Pete Seeger

Fall is pressing upon us. it is a season of dropping off and falling away, shedding and letting go.  I ponder this strata of desquamation. I look out my kitchen window and watch as golden curled leaves rain down bereft of even a wind puff, surrendering freely. The garden is withering to shades of drabness. Stalks shrivel and droop, giving themselves up to a job well done.    No matter our casualness, we feel the shift. 
A reminder that nothing lasts forever.
 
 
Autumn is  a time for moulting, for emptying.  It’s not a giving up, resignation, or lowering your standards, but a surrender to what is.

It’s a time when we look at the garden inside ourselves and tear or thin out everything that is not worthy of taking space in our heart.

It’s a time where we need to shuck off our old skins, drop them and walk away until they are unrecognizable.

 
There is a story told in Africa and India about how to catch a monkey. First they hollow out one end of a coconut and drop in a banana. Before long a monkey comes by, sees the banana, reaches his hand into the coconut, and grabs it. The monkey then discovers that he can’t get his hand out while holding onto the banana. The natives then pull a string attached to the other end of the coconut and capture the monkey. Motivational speakers often use this story to inspire people to “let go” of their old perceptions, habits and thoughts, since in truth, the monkey was never trapped.   All the monkey had to do was to let go of the banana.
 
One of the biggest sources of our malcontent is not being able to let go. Instead, we hang onto things, jobs, relationships, and 70’s caftans because things don’t look as we want them to.  
 
Sometimes we can be like the hermit crab. There comes a day when the crab outgrows its shell. Then comes the risky moment called the moult when the crab is in between shells. Now the crab has two choices. One, to find a new shell or two, slip back into its old one because the new one is uncomfortable.
 
It really is about letting go of the out-lived – the parts that you loved and the parts that were painful, hopefully turning chaos into cadence.
Trying to keep everything the same is like trying to tell the leaves not to fall from the trees in autumn.  I’m not necessarily thinking of old shoes, but simple things like bitterness, resentment, and the poison of unforgiveness. 
Letting go is essential. But it’s not always easy. Letting go takes work and requires us to do some serious introspection about what’s “True”, and what we’re actually attached to. There is a difference between the facts of a person and the truth of them. This something that has baffled scientists to no end.  

However arduous it might be, it’s often a good idea to be honest with oneself. You do not want to sit by people at dinner that will not admit this.

Life never promised to keep us safe.It wasn’t designed that way and they don’t hand out manuals for the tough stuff.Life, however, does continue to hand us opportunities to become who we really are, to understand ourselves on a deeper level, and to experience the full breadth of human emotion. 
 
 
 

And the end of all of our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.                                                                                        – T.S. Eliot  

Things come and go, nothing stays the same, and we can’t control most of the things we’d like to. 
Everything we love – places, possessions, and people – can, and very likely will, be eventually taken from us. Possibly the greatest gift we can give someone is that of detachment. 

Attachment, even if we think it is selfless, lays some burden on the other person. When we think we are giving, we may actually be at the very least, asking for attention – another paradox of life. When we think we have nothing, there is always something. When something is taken away, there is always some permanence to be grateful for – friends, family, life-teachers, The Maldives, and dust mites. 

What they leave in our soul is the only permanence we’ll ever know.

Except for dust mites. They stay under our couch.

 
Grace comes, but you don’t get to say when or how. Grace can be a wound that opens the beauty in us, a wound that lets light in through the heart-cracks. It’s the beauty of imperfection, of things that show their age and use. Scratches. Chips. Wrinkles.   
 
 
Our home should be an honest reflection of ourselves that include family photos, items from our travels, and objects that have meaning for us. Because we all want such different things, we will all be pulled towards very different kinds of objects.  The key is to let go of the extraneous, the worn, the out-dated, the redundant, and the meaningless, with rapturous rigour and devotion. 

Do you need six throw pillows on your sofa, or do 3 create just as much of an impact?

Do you need your collection of magazines from the past 7 years, or do 4 coffee table books achieve the same goal?

Do you really need 22 black teeshirts, or will 6 do?

Beer glasses? Spatulas? Jars of copper polish?

 

Today, make a commitment to drop a banana.

There has never been a more selfless selfish act.