my hero.

I met her in the fall of 1996.  A mutual friend of ours had shown her a picture of me, and she said she wanted to meet me.

We gathered at our friend’s apartment, and arranged rides to another house, where we were greeted by a lively party already underway.  She thought the beer I was drinking was really funny – Samuel Smith Imperial Stout.  Her icy blue eyes and flowing blonde tresses had me.

We parted ways that night, I called our friend the next day to get her number.  She spent most of the week fretting with her mother, wondering if I would call back.  I, not wanting to seem needy, played it cool until the following weekend, ignoring the yearning inside.  More than a yearning.  I knew my future was with her.

Fast forward a year, a year of candlelit dinners, resorts, family dinners, passion – oh yes, passion – and we moved into our first apartment together.  One Friday after work, I traveled to the east end of Steeltown, to a small house on a nondescript street for a meeting with an independent jeweler.  A lady with connections to La Cosa Nostra, I was told.  The wedding bands, I designed myself, the stone, the most beautiful my eye had ever seen.  Perfect in every way, like my bride-to-be.  I paid cash, of course… and Saturday morning proposed to my lover, as she lounged in her pyjamas.  Her answer was not yes, but a shriek of joy!

Nineteen ninety-eight.

A storybook wedding, the honeymoon of a lifetime.  It seemed as though the carousel could not stop.

Another year passed, a new job for each of us, and a townhouse.  Our common goal, a family.  And as the months turned into years, we sought help.  We followed the usual course of therapy, fertility drugs in the form of pills, which gave way to injectables.  Hope, then despair, even as we looked forward to another new beginning, a move away from Steeltown to Pleasantville.

Two thousand.

Then.  Nine months into our new life, success!  The months of travel for her, back and forth a six-hour drive to the clinic, in an old house at the base of the Niagara Escarpment, success!  Pregnant, with triplets.  We rejoiced, for through much of it, I had stayed back to toil at the neutron factory.  We held hands and gazed at the ultrasound images of our soon to be three.

Eight weeks in, mid-autumn, one ceased to be, one little one we shall not meet until we cross over.  Although not confirmed by the clinic, we knew he was a boy.  Our boy.

Two thousand and one.

Steadying each other, we gave thanks for the two who remained, until one morning, barely 21 weeks along, too early.  Our beautiful daughter was born, and we held her in our arms for her entire life, all too short, little more than one hour.  Asked to choose whether to continue with the remaining one, for he also might not stay with us, we said we had no right to choose.  We left it in the hands of fate.

And fate gave us our first son.  Strong, bright, proud, cheerful.  Thirty-five weeks in, he was truly a miracle.Proud parents both, we celebrated each day.

Two thousand and three.

But he needed a sibling, so searching back to our past, I secured a new job, back in Steeltown, and we relocated once more.  A newer, more modern clinic took us on, and once again in the fall, triplets.  Again, given the choice to lessen the potential burden, again we argued to the profession that we were not worthy to make that choice.

How strong was my lover, physically and mentally, as she was confined to bed rest from week 16 of the pregnancy.  Mentally strong, as she also discovered a lump on her throat around that time.

Biopsy showed it to be cancerous.  Thyroid.

Thoughts in my head, to be in my mid-thirties, a widower with four children.  But no, this would not happen.

Two thousand and four.

And this time, the pregnancy held until at 31 weeks, two more boys and a beautiful little girl joined our three-year old to fill out our tribe.  As we adjusted to life with three very tiny ones, my lover endured the first of two surgeries, one half of her thyroid out only two weeks after caesarian, and then eight months later, the other.

Fate, what a strange thing.  My new job, our ticket to our dreams, faltered.  I, never one to burn bridges, except in my daydreams, returned to the neutron factory.  Once again, we relocated back to Pleasantville, to the house that is now our home.

Fate.  The decrepit facility where I toiled, provided the nuclear elixir to guarantee a clean bill of health for my lover.  For once in my life, I could say I had made a difference.

We always wondered, and still do, was the cancer a result of the fertility?  How strong she was, how courageous, how focused, how selfless, to risk it all to bring us a family.

And to this day, the pillar of our household.  Strong.  Courageous.  Focused.  Selfless.

As much as I like to think I can change my life, that I can do anything if I put my mind to it, I pale by comparison to what she is capable of achieving.  As I finished a bottle of wine, in the wee hours of the first day of 2007, I began to tell her story.  The story which I write, daily.  There is so much more to tell.  If the only thing I ever complete on this journey is her story, it will be my life’s finest work.

I toil for her.

My hero.

My wife.

My Cathryn.

do what you love, and the underpants will follow.

What, you thought I blogged for money? No way, I blog and write for ice cream. And underpants.

Last night, I ran in the warm spring rain, without a rain jacket. I couldn’t find it, so I went anyway and got soaked. Literally from head to toes, because of my funny shoes.

I could feel the water soaking through the fabric after the first 200 feet or so, and it was very nice. Only the sound of the rain, and my feet softly padding on the ground. Okay, and a couple of cars… it’s a small town, but it was Friday night.

The spring air was alive, the moisture filling me with vitality, the source of life. The raindrops collected on the lenses of my glasses, distorting my vision slightly and transporting me into a dreamscape.

Magic.

I run not to lose weight, I run to feel alive.

And so that I can celebrate, by dancing like all good Vikings do, and by eating ice cream.

Thanks to everyone – all of you – for a great week, here, and at your blogs.

Do what you love, and do it well. The money, or the ice cream, or the underpants will follow.

So, without further ado:

	Distance	Time	Weight
Monday	3.1 km	23 min	199 lb
Wednesday	4.0	29	199
Friday	5.2	37	198

I think this is pretty good for two weeks of running, I’ll have to be able to run 42.195 km for a full marathon. I know I can do it. Barefoot (almost). In a kilt. Without briefs.

Perseverance. Time. Effort. That’s what it takes. If I run at 8 km/h for 5 hours 16 minutes 27-3/4 seconds, I can complete a marathon.

I think I did well since last week, and it will be interesting to see how far I’ll be running by the end of the sixth week.

Once again, thank you to everyone for your encouragement and support, and a lot of laughs this week.

Laughing with friends about underpants – what more can one ask for?

Perhaps another bowl of ice cream… if I were a superhero, my secret weakness would be ice cream.

Just ask Sandie, she knows – she’s one of the great people I met this week, and her son MonkeyBoy makes me want to turn in my geek card. I’m amazed at how many people I’m meeting through blogging. The network is expanding exponentially. I’m thinking that soon we’ll be able to take over the world.

(Yes, that’s a rum bottle in the photo, Captain Morgan to be precise – but it is maple syrup, honest!)

Next week, I will return with more stories. They may or may not involve underpants. Oh, and a new 6 week challenge – if you tell the entire world you’re going to do something publicly, there is no better motivator.

^^
. .
^
o

why blogging for profit is like collecting underpants.

*Ahem* now that I have your attention with that subject line I’d better explain… and it sort of involves coffee, which I love.

It all started with an episode of South Park*. A local coffee shop is being threatened by a large conglomerate called Harbucks. But this isn’t the point of my post.

As a sub-plot, the son of the coffee shop owners, Tweek, tells his friends that Underpants Gnomes are stealing his underpants.

It turns out that the Underpants Gnomes are businessmen, and they try to explain it to the children.

The Underpants Gnomes have a three-phase business plan, consisting of:

1. Collect underpants
2. ?
3. Profit

None of the gnomes actually know what the second phase is, and all of them assume that someone else within the organization does.**

So what does this have to do with blogging for profit?

Many people want to know what is involved with Phase 2, but that really depends on the desired outcome of Phase 3 – your desired profit.

(Many people will help you with Phase 2, for free, and that’s great. Many people will also sell you information on Phase 2, but that’s another story. And as far as I know, Phase 1 doesn’t involve collecting underpants. Unless your blog is about collecting underpants, that is.)

When I first started thinking about blogging, quite some time ago, it was before I knew that what I really wanted to do was write, and write for others as much as myself. I had seen the people like dooce, ProBlogger, and Steve Pavlina, making serious money, and I thought, “I want to do that, can’t be too hard, I’m smart.”

Fast forward…

Reading lots of blogs…

Meeting some really great people…

Lots of research…

Realizing that, you know, making money from blogging isn’t my goal after all, it is to write…

Nice custom theme… (thanks guys)

Wow, this is hard work, but lots of fun…

Blogging and having fun…

If you want Phase 3 to be monetary profit, Phase 2 is probably really hard, and you probably have to be in the right place at the right time to make serious money strictly from blogging and advertising.

But that’s okay.

Something magical has started happening here at 6 weeks, and I really noticed it when I did something crazy – I started branching out with my writing, and I’m starting to really figure out the “?” in my plan. As more and more people are finding this place, the comment strings are getting longer. And the people are starting to interact with each other. People are meeting new friends here, just as I met some of you at Men with Pens and IttyBiz.

It is taking on a life of it’s own. Phase 3, the profit, is not a monetary one for me, at least not right now. It is more than that. And more than I imagined.

When something you write encourages thought, encourages communication, encourages new friendships, that is something truly special.

Do what you love, and the money will follow.

And I love what I’m doing. I’ll figure out the money part later. There are lots of ways to do Phase 2, but right now I like doing this. Thanks everyone, I can’t do this without you.

PS – keep your eyes on your underpants.

–

Inspiration for this post came from an early morning Twitter (with James & RJ – yet more proof that Twitter is useful), and my wife Cathryn, as she thought I should add a little humour – we’ll see if she laughs at this… now I need some coffee.

*Not everyone likes South Park, as it is sometimes over the top. So my apologies if you don’t like this show – that’s okay, it isn’t for everyone. Hopefully you still like my story…

**From the Wikipedia entry, including picture.

do something crazy.

It was raining, and cold, at least according to the locals. I didn’t think it was too bad, but what did I know, I’m just a crazy guy from Canada.

I had just walked barefoot through ankle-deep mud to a four-wheel drive truck with a nasty lift kit, and ridden up to the top of a large hill. I stepped out into the New Zealand winter mist to survey the bumpy hillside below.

As I steeled my nerves for what lay ahead, the guide told me the best way to navigate the course:

“Try to stand up as long as you can, and if you fall, try to get up. You will fall… okay, I want you to jump through the door headfirst, like Superman, then I’ll zip it up behind you. Stand up, and I’ll bang on the back of the ball to let you know you’re good to go. Take two or three really big steps, and keep running. Just remember, you can’t see where you are going.”

About 45 seconds later, I slid back out into the mud, wearing the biggest grin you’ve ever seen, having gone ass over teakettle down the side of the hill inside of a big hamster ball.

Have you ever wanted to do something really crazy? What was it?

Several years ago, I can’t remember exactly when, I saw this crazy thing called a Zorb.

I said to myself, “I’m going to do that.” I looked into it, and learned that (at the time) the only place in the world to do this was New Zealand, where it was invented.

As time passed, I became interested in New Zealand for other reasons, and then in July of 2007, my wife and I vacationed there for two weeks. One of our weekend trips was to a town called Rotorua. The birthplace of the Zorb.

It was the middle of their winter, which really meant that it was not all that unpleasant to me – a little rain from time to time, and temperatures mild enough to only need a light jacket. Certainly not the winters I am accustomed to in Canada…

The day we arrived at the Zorb park, it was raining.

Well, we had traveled 9,000 miles and I wasn’t about to miss the chance to do something crazy because of a little rain.

So, off came the shoes, up to the top of the big hill, and into the Zorb with a whole bunch of warm water.

I had a dream to do something crazy.

And I did it.

Do you dream of doing something crazy?

Get out there and do it.

Have you already done something crazy?

Share it with the world.

foot fetish? six weeks to a marathon.

Last Sunday evening, your intrepid author was sitting at his desk, writing the next best-selling novel for Oprah’s Book Club, when he heard a loud noise from upstairs. Suddenly, two scruffy looking men burst into his office, brandishing a large revolver (or at least, a silly looking handgun):

Tyler: “Brett, you’re going to die. …[looks at Brett's Running Room Membership Card]… An expired Running Room Membership Card! What did you want to be, Brett?”….
Brett: “Barefoot runner”
T: “Why?”
B: “I don’t know”
T: “What did you want to be, Brett A. Legree? [Cocks gun/thumb] The question, Brett, was – what did you want to be?”
B: “Barefoot runner! Barefoot runner!”…
T: “Long races.”
B: “Yeah long races…marathons”
T: “Yeah marathons, I got that – that means you have to do more barefoot running.”
B: “Too much running”
T: “Would you rather be dead? You’d rather die, here, on your ergonomic chair in your basement office?”
B: “Please…no…” (trying not to laugh at the finger gun)
T: “I’m keeping your Membership Card. I’m going to check in on you. I know where you live. If you’re not on your way to becoming a barefoot marathon runner in 6 weeks you will be dead. Now go for a run. [Brett put on his funny shoes, and ran away into the darkness, smiling] ….Tomorrow will be the most beautiful day of Brett A. Legree’s life – his breakfast will taste better than any meal you and I have ever tasted.”

The Narrator continued: “You had to give it to him. He had a plan and it started to make sense in a Tyler sort of way. No fear. No distractions. The ability to let that which does not matter, truly slide.”

So I’ve mentioned before that I like to run. Twice in the past 8 years, I have got myself up to the point of being able to run 10 km non-stop. I think this is pretty good for someone with my stocky build. But I knew I could do better.

I always hit a plateau around 10 km. I never experienced intense pain, but I knew that I shouldn’t go any further using traditional shoes and running form. That is when I first started looking into barefoot running techniques.

I know I will do it this time. I will go further than ever before. As Tyler says, I’m going to die. Someday, but hopefully not today. In any case, I plan to run a marathon, barefoot, long before that time comes.

I have been inspired by the following people, to keep running:

• Wendi and her post The Courage to Start about John Bingham
• Ellen and Karen for the chats on Twitter about the Toronto Marathon, and the excellent writing they do
• (notice a trend here? All of these ladies can run circles around me!)
• Barefoot Ted for showing me the funny shoes and the inspiration to try something new – he too had hit a plateau, until he changed his way of thinking and moving

So here is the plan:

I am running Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings.

I will report in each Saturday with progress – how far, and how long. And how I feel doing it.

I believe that after only 6 weeks, I will be well on my way to being able to run a marathon. I will work at it slowly, and continuously add to the distance.

I can find the time, by letting that which does not matter, truly slide. My RSS feeds can wait. But not Twitter

So without further ado, the Week 1 report:

	Distance	Time	Weight
Monday	1.8 km	15 min	200 lb
Wednesday	2.1	17	199
Friday	2.5	20	196

And for a non-statistical report, the feeling – well, on successive each day, I felt that I could have gone further, and I felt alive after the run.

I have no pain at all, rather I feel totally connected to the earth as I’m running. I don’t even feel like waiting until Monday now, I want to run today. But I will mix it up and do some kettlebell training on my off days. Balance is a good thing.

(What do you think, Kelly – is this a fetish? Of course you know you nothing about such things. )

So go ahead, try something new. Work at it for 6 weeks, I’ll bet you’ll keep it for a lifetime.

My breakfast did taste good today, too. Thanks Tyler.

–

Epilogue: I hope that you enjoyed this post today, it almost didn’t make it up here fail early, fail often.

windows live writer sucks. or, fail early, fail often.

This was not supposed to be my latest post. I’ve been using Windows Live Writer with good success, and my latest post was based on a previous post, why 6 weeks.

So today, Windows Live Writer – combined with my efforts, of course (PEBKAC) – ate my why 6 weeks post, sort of, and…

Of course, I can’t link to why 6 weeks because it got mangled… further proof that Microsoft is evil?

You could poke around here to see what I wanted to write if you like, but I expect I’ll get things fixed up within a day or so.

In the mean time, beware Windows Live Writer and using old posts as the basis of new posts. I’ll post a diagnosis at some point to follow up this post!

Something tells me I’ll be doing everything via WordPress for a while…

Technology, the cause of, and solution to, most of life’s problems (just ask Monika). Fail early, fail often.

Have a great day folks!

(Update: everything seems to be fixed up now, thanks to backups… back to your regularly scheduled programming! Thanks for your understanding, my friends.)

–

Postmortem:

The following is a brief description of what transpired:

1. I wanted to write a new post based on one I had already written and published, as much of the text would be similar and could be modified.
2. I opened up the old post in WLW, and it retrieved the published version from my blog.
3. I gave it a new title, and modified the text.
4. Next I chose to save a draft to my blog – note, this is a feature of WLW that I really like – so good job on this one to the designers.
5. I went to the WordPress control panel to edit the (assumed) draft post, to put in my picture and thumbnail.
6. At that point, I noticed that the text of the old post had been replaced by the text from the new post, which I had assumed was in draft.
7. I went back to WLW later in the day, and used it to replace the original text into the old post from a backup.
8. I then made a completely new post via WLW as intended.

So, upon consideration, I realize that WLW was not to blame here. It was my fault for not understanding the interaction between WLW and WordPress (and the database that keeps the posts).

Now that I know how this all works, I won’t make the same mistake again.

Fail early, fail often. Fall down seven times, get up eight times.

focus on writing – part 1 – back to the future.

Let’s say you have a deadline to write 30,000 words in a month and a half – in 6 weeks! Unless you’re Monika and can do this in a week (!), you may need some assistance to focus. I don’t know about you, but I tend to have a lot of applications open at any given time. This can be very distracting when I’m trying to write a new blog post, or work on one of my books. I’ve seen articles on productivity that recommend closing all programs except for your writing program. Leo Babauta suggests doing this in How to Write Without Distractions.

Yes, I could easily do that. The unfortunate problem with this for me is that it disrupts my work flow. I don’t want to have to remember what I was doing before I started writing, and then have to start it up again when I’m finished. Or perhaps, if I’m in the middle of writing and then remember I have to email somebody, it is nice to just switch over to my browser and send a quick Gmail.

So I’ll have to disagree with the productivity experts on this one. I paid good money for a state of the art computer with 3 gigabytes of memory, and there’s no reason I cannot leave everything running in the background.

It just seems to me sometimes that I was more productive back in the 80’s and 90’s running WordPerfect for DOS. There was only simplicity and focus. A black screen, plain text and a flashing cursor. So what to do?

Go back to the future!

Quite some time ago, I ran across a slew of programs that could be called “writing programs”. Some are very minimalist and intended to help the writer focus on simply writing. Others are much more powerful, and can help the writer organize and plan a story.

Today I’d like to talk about the programs that tend towards the minimalist end of the spectrum, and I’ll save the fancy programs for another article.

One of my favourites is called Q10.

Q10 is freely available for download, and can either be installed to your hard drive, or run as a portable application from a flash drive.

Upon startup, you are presented with a black screen that covers the entire display, amber text and a blinking cursor. At each keystroke, a lovely typewriter sound clicks from your computer (unless you prefer to turn this off).

It is a very visceral experience and I love it. Q10 can be set up to auto save after a certain length of time or a certain number of paragraphs, and upon startup can be set to load the last file worked on by the user. It has a spell checker and a word count built in which is handy, and it displays the time (although the status bar can be turned off if you wish).

Another program I often use is called Dark Room. It has a slightly different feature set from Q10, but basically operates the same way in that it starts up to a black screen with plain text. Once again, it is freely available for download. One thing that Dark Room does offer over Q10 is proper multi-monitor support, thus I tend to use it at work. Dark Room will blank out the other screen and it can be easily moved from one screen to another (press Escape to put it in “windowed” mode, move it, and then press Escape again to set it to full screen).

Q10 and Dark Room are Windows only. There are a few other similar programs available, such as JDarkRoom if you prefer a Java-based program, or DarkCopy if you want to use a web-based program.

Interestingly enough, all of these programs can be traced to WriteRoom on the Mac. If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then Q10, Dark Room, JDarkRoom and DarkCopy could be considered very sincere indeed, as they are quite faithful to WriteRoom. I note that WriteRoom is the only program I’ve mentioned today that isn’t freeware, although it isn’t that expensive.

So do they work for me, and can they work for you? Yes! I have a very busy life – I have a full-time job as a nuclear engineer, I have a great wife and four beautiful children, I have lots of friends, and I still manage to write every day, whether it be for my books, or my blogs. In 2007 for National Novel Writing Month, I wrote just over 30,000 words in four weeks. I didn’t hit 50k, but that doesn’t matter. I’m proud of myself, and I know that Q10 helped me to focus and get as far as I did.

I also use Dark Room at work to compose my documents, rather than struggling with Word and the unstable custom templates we have to use. Once I have my text in shape, I transfer it into the template of my choice and format everything.

One other thing to note – programs such as Twitter, or the various instant message applications, tend to have pop-up notifications and these will still pop up and cause distractions, so you may have to do something to prevent this. Again, rather than close these programs, I find the setting in the Properties of each one where I can disable pop-up notifications.

So there you have it – it is possible to relive 1989 all over again, get your work done and have a little bit of fun doing it.

*click click click*

Next time – some of the more advanced programs that can help you to plan your work.

the hero everyone said they knew.

I was having coffee with an old friend a few weeks ago. I hadn’t seen him for probably 10 years, and then I discovered that he had been working at my company for a couple of years. What a nice surprise!

We talked about the good times, the old memories and the crazy stuff we had done as young men. We were always good kids, and nobody was ever hurt. We used to drive old cars through the bush, like the Dukes of Hazzard, things like that. The beauty of growing up in the country, with good friends.

But this story isn’t about my friend. This story is about his older brother, who was actually my age. My thoughts drifted to his older brother.

I knew this man too, and he was much like my friend in many ways. He was extremely clever, well-mannered and even-tempered, and he would do anything for anybody. He was a quiet fellow, but had a lot to offer if you asked him something. As the saying goes, still waters run deep.

He was also what one would have called a “nerd” back in the day, so of course the “cool kids” would pick at him in high school. But he didn’t care, he just went about his business.

On March 17, 1998, he lost his life trying to rescue his mother in a fire at their house. Tragically, his mother also did not survive. My friend’s brother was posthumously awarded the Star of Courage by the Government of Canada.

It still saddens me to this day, that people would say that they “knew” this man. The ones that seem to say it loudest, are the ones who wouldn’t give him the time of day back when they could have known him. Perhaps they wish they had? Perhaps they feel guilty for the things they said all those years ago?

It doesn’t matter anymore, in any case. This man was a hero.

His name was Henry Shier.

It is funny sometimes how heroes come from the most unlikely places, how people think that a hero has to have a certain look, or be from a certain background. Yet we all have this inside of us. That’s why we should give everyone we meet a fair chance, not just those we deem cool and hip.

This one’s for you, Henry.

the plan, and why it’s never too late.

Now that I’ve recovered from the plague of the century, I thought it was time to tell you a bit more about what I have in store for this place. Better late than never!

As you know, I love to write inspirational pieces, and that will not change. I believe that is a core part of who I am, and it gives me great pleasure to tell stories that make others think.

My friend Francis once told me I have a knack for explaining technology in a way that anybody could understand it, and he said he’d kick me in the ass if I didn’t start writing about it.

So, not wanting to disappoint him (and fearing his big boots), I will write reviews from time to time about technology that is interesting and useful, and I promise I’ll keep the geek factor low. We need to know how something can help us, not how it was coded or wired together.

Finally, as I’ve been saying for many weeks that it is important to start now, perhaps it would help if there were a “how-to start now” once in a while.

I’ll try to write my reviews and how to articles in a smart, funny way, rather than as bulleted lists, as so many others do. For a great example of this, check out The Ultimate Men with Pens Guide to Twitter.

So without further ado, the week ahead (uh-oh, a bulleted list):

• A story about someone I knew, whose selfless actions continue to inspire me to this very day.
• A short piece on the software I use to write, and why I use it. The first in a series on writing software.
• Bonus – a surprise post about my feet (with a twist – this will be part one of a 6 week series). Don’t worry, this isn’t a fetish thing (hi Kelly)… it will make sense!

The coming weeks:

• A story about my own personal hero. My rock.
• How to make the switch to a Mac, and take your Windows machine with you.
• A 6 week series on how to effect change in your life, on any level.

What do you think?

–

I didn’t want to just leave everyone with a laundry list of what will be “coming soon”, as that’s sort of like reading you the menu and then telling you that you can’t order anything.

I was chatting with Wendi after reading her post Before the Play is Done. She had written about an acquaintance of hers who was still in school at age 97 when she passed away.

I recounted a story of my own, and she suggested I write about the person I knew.

Here is the story, pretty much verbatim from the comment. It is very short, but powerful.

When we stop learning, we stop growing, and we stop sharing. When I started studying engineering 20 years ago, I remember the very first class of my first day.

There was an older woman, probably about 60 years old (she never did say), sitting about middle of the lecture hall. A lot of the students were snickering about the “old lady”. At that time too, engineering was about 75 percent men (not so now, which is a great thing!) so of course there were other jokes too.

I asked her one time if she planned to practice, and she said, “no, she just wanted to study engineering and get a degree”. I thought that was great.

Funny thing is, 4 years later, she graduated, and some of the guys who laughed at her had failed out.

She got a standing ovation at the convocation ceremony. It was wonderful.

Completing my engineering degree was one of the most challenging things I have ever done. If you asked a lot of the people in my graduating class why they chose to study engineering, they would be as likely to say “to get a good job and make a living” as they would be to say “because it is interesting”. And yet, this woman decided she wanted to do it, purely out of personal interest.

Do something because you want to do it, because you believe in it, and you can accomplish anything.

It’s never too late. Make “one day”, today.

on being grounded.

Last night I went for a walk with my family in the evening sun. Even though it is only early spring, you can still feel the warmth, and it was welcoming. I could feel the moisture of the greening grass between my toes, thanks to the funny shoes* I was wearing.

I have been ill for the past few days, luckily just a cold (my wife insists it is a man cold), and I’ve been away from my writing, at least from any serious writing. I’m not the only one either, Cath Lawson hasn’t been feeling well (get well soon, Cath!) Sometimes you just need to take a break, to reboot. The world keeps turning, and you get a chance to refocus.

I’ve still been able to read my favourite blogs and comment, but I haven’t had a clear head.

Or so I thought.

I had a lot of trouble sleeping, and seemed to slip in and out of consciousness. During the day, I had absolutely no energy, I could not exercise at all, though I tried, and I couldn’t pick up my children when they asked to be picked up.

This gave me pause to think. How lucky I am to not feel this way all the time. I have written in the not too distant past about the privilege of choice, about a cousin of mine who is dying of cancer. I learned three days ago that she only has three months to live, according to her doctor.

It is easy to get so caught up in the chaos of modern life, to forget about important things like family and friends. I get up in the morning, walk out of my home box, get into a wheeled box, drive to a box, sit in front of a box, get back in the wheeled box, drive back to my home box, and sit in front of a box. Hmm. Almost like I lose my way, from time to time. Perhaps I’m the very last person who should be saying this, as I’m constantly out here chatting with people on my favourite blogs, or tweeting away on Twitter. It is something I love to do, and I received lots of support from all kinds of wonderful people out here, telling me to get well, and to get some rest. We have a vibrant community out here in the ether. It is great, and I don’t intend to give it up, but there is more. There is balance.

I am lucky. I only had a cold. I thought tonight during my walk, as I felt the wetness of the earth between my toes, how lucky I am to only have a cold today. How important it is to be grounded, to appreciate the small things in life. Family, friends (near and far – they will be there for you, when you are ready), an evening walk in the sun. Take some time to celebrate life, today.

Though it seems that these things will always be here, we must appreciate them today. With luck, they will be there for us again tomorrow. The sun will rise, no doubt of that. I intend to rise as well! But if I do not, I want to be sure I can say that I truly enjoyed my day.

*These are my “running shoes”, Vibram Five Fingers – yes, they are a little strange, but when wearing them I just feel a bit more connected with things. I take notice of small things, like pebbles, and wet grass. Sometimes this is what we need, I think.

Next Page »