You Can Fly If You Try

I had the privilege of hearing the late Jack Donahue speak at a coaching conference. He was the type of individual who touched your heart in ways you couldn’t forget. He inspired many Canadians in his role as our national basketball coach.

He talked about how important it was to be positive in life. When he chose assistants to travel with the team on the road, he looked for people who would be able to see the best in every situation.

“When it is pouring rain and he is getting soaking wet, I want the kind of person who will check his pockets for fish. If he is being chased up a tree by a bear, I want him to get to the top and remark how beautiful the view is.”

Another saying he gave in his speech was:
If you have the mind to conceive it,
And the heart to believe it,
Then you can achieve it.
To which he added, “You can fly if you try.”

He told how he once had a guard on the national team who was exceptional, but wanted to be an individual and not do what was best for the team. In practice, he would continually disobey instructions and improvise, especially one particular play they had devised.

Jack took the lad aside and said some think like this. “In tonight’s game, the guard on our national team will be executing the play just like we did in practice. You have the choice of whether you want to be that guard or not.” Apparently, the player got the message and did what was best for the team.

I remember this story because I know what many other coaches would have done. What he did was state the facts and let the player decide. Jack was always about his players.

Jack Donahue died in 2003. As one person put it: While Jack was known as a basketball coach, his real role was a "LIFE EDUCATOR".

The Basketball Game

I am terrible at basketball. You can imagine, then, how shocked I was when Kelly, another teacher, came up to me and asked me if I would coach the grade 7 basketball team. I gave him every excuse I could, but when he said that the kids couldn’t play without a coach and I was the last resort, I gave in.

We actually won our first game. I had no idea of what I was doing. I freely rotated the players in. Sometimes they played guard, then the next shift they might be a forward. A tall student, who was in our school for only a month, made the difference. My team came off the floor elated. That was soon to change the next week.

Our next game was against Tomahawk, a fitting name for the school, because they chopped us into pieces. The final score – it is still burned into my memory – was 62-13. Their attack was so fierce and our defence so weak, the surprise is that we had time to score 13 points. As we limped back to our cars to take us home, I had to walk through the opposition’s dressing room. They were laughing at us.

When I got into the car with some of my players, I was upset. The parent, who was also the guidance counsellor at the local high school, sensed that something was wrong and asked. I told him very firmly that I had heard the other team laugh at us and we were going to beat them the next time. He said something about setting realistic expectations for the children and I retorted that nobody laughs at our efforts without a strong reply.

We practised for the next couple of weeks. Actually, my knowledge of basketball was so feeble, we just played a scrub game among ourselves.

As the big game approached, I suddenly got an idea. One of the Tomahawk players was really short. All of the others hovered over my players. If we forced the short player to bring the ball up the court, he would have to pass it into the key over my players’ outstretched hands to his comrades, something that would be difficult to do compared with the open spaces at the other end. Would it work? I had no idea.

At our final practice before the game, I decided to see what my players thought. I outlined the plan and expressed my confidence in it, and then I asked, “What do you think? Do you think it will work?” Immediately I saw 8 minds digesting what I had said and coming to their own conclusions. The answer was that they figured it would work.

I did one other thing. We had no uniforms. My players looked like a garment table at a bargain-basement store. I robbed the student council of some t-shirts and gave them to the kids. They were pleased that they now all looked the same. They were a team.

We went into the game with our battle plan memorized. If one of the taller Tomahawk players got the ball in their end, we would swarm him and any other player he passed it to until it was passed to the short kid. Then, we would let him bring the ball up the court and try to pass it into the key, the area where most baskets are made, at least, at this age level.

It worked! Time after time, we blocked passes that just didn’t go high enough to pass over our outstretched arms. At the end of the game, the score was 16-16. We had to go into overtime. I called my players over to give them a pep talk. They gave me one. One of them said, “Don’t worry, Mr. Stevens, we’re going to win this game.” And they did just that.

When the game was over, several teachers told me that we had just done something very special. I knew. I could see it written all over my players’ faces. They had learned that you could overcome obstacles in life, no matter how impossible they may seem.

I wasn’t content. I knew that I wasn’t a great basketball coach. I wanted to know why it worked. Here is the best I can figure.

1. I didn’t let the words of the parent discourage me. Right from the beginning, I knew my goal and I stuck to it.
2. I created a plan. This seems simple, but if you fail to plan, you plan to fail.
3. I didn’t just give the plan to my players, but I asked them to make it their plan. Put another way, it became their vision, not just something that was mine.
4. I did something that made them feel like a team when I gave them the t-shirts.
5. I let them have fun conquering the other team. It was more important that they believed themselves that they could do it that my believing.

We played Tomahawk one more time that year. It was the regional tournament. While we kept the score respectful, we didn’t win. Quite simply, they were a better team on that day. Still, all of us had learned a valuable lesson that season from a basketball coach knew who nothing about the game.

Post-It Notes

I have had the good fortune to travel many places in the world. I have also had the opportunity to meet many people. As I look back through the years, I fondly remember the effect that each one had on me.

In today’s world, it is often difficult to maintain relationships and friendships. It almost seems as if life gets in the way.

It’s sort of like each person puts a post-it note on your life. Sometimes the wind comes along and blows a few away. The rain destroys a few more. There may even been times when the cold winter snows makes a few more fall.

It is important that each post-it note faces these hardships. Most will fall, but there will be the few that hang on tenaciously. These are your true friends. They stick with you no matter what happens and remain with you forever. No adversity can loosen their grip on your life.

Two Sick Men

This is a story about two men who are sick.

The first man goes to the hospital and is told by a doctor, “You are going to die if you don’t take this medicine.”

The second man goes to a different hospital and is given the same medicine by another doctor who tells him, “You are going to live longer if you take this medicine.”

If you were the patient, which message would you like to hear? Which treatment would give you more hope about putting as much as you could into your life? Since the medicine is exactly the same, do you think one patient would have a better chance of recovery than the other? I can’t say for sure, but I do know which doctor I would like to return to for the follow-up visit.

When people go to church, it is like going to the hospital. Having moved around a lot, I have attended many in my lifetime. I also worked as a master control operator in television. On a typical Sunday, I would watch about six or seven televangelists and religious programs. I have seen every style and flavour of religion.

Many places of worship are like the first doctor. They tell me that I am going to die if I don’t do this or that. You know what? There are people who enjoy and need to hear this message. I am not one of them.

Why? In the earthly realm, I am going to die. So what I am going to do with my life? Am I going to sit and worry that I must do this exactly like this and exactly like that so I will be a good boy and go to heaven. Oh yes, and I have to spread the Good News. The only problem is that when it is put to me like that, the news doesn’t sound very good. The feeling is that as long as I stay confined in my tower, I will be guaranteed the joys of heaven, even if I feel trapped in this life.

I prefer a message much like the second doctor. I want to have the hope of a more abundant life. I want to live my faith with a passion, not because I feel I have to be a good boy to go to heaven. I may even do some wrong things along the way, but I will have tasted the essence of life.

I want the inspiration that caused fishermen to put down their nets and follow a complete stranger. It is hard to leave everything behind, especially when you don’t know what lies ahead. Maybe that’s why fishermen responded to the call instead of bakers who might worry how their customers would get their bread the next day. The wealthy would be concerned about leaving their collection of things behind, things they had worked hard to achieve. When you are a fisherman and don’t have much, there is less that holds you down.

Yes, I want life and I want it abundantly. I want the Good News to be good. I want to take chances now and again, knowing that I can be forgiven. I feel it is a greater sin to stay chained to a wall and not taste freedom, not to experience the breadth and depth of love that can be experienced in this world. I want to hear that I can fail, fall miserably on the ground and that there will be somebody to pick me up. I think it is more tragic when people don’t participate in the dance of life because they are afraid of falling. I want to hear that if I do this or that, I will live longer and better. I want to experience as many of the gifts life has to offer me before I die.

Are there people out there who will find flaws in my logic? Probably, just like there are doctors who scoff at some forms of alternate medicine. What is a potion for some will be poison for others.

At the end of it all, I try to follow the path that I feel leads me to my destiny in life even if it may not be paved and flat. I feel that I can do this joyfully if I believe that I will live a longer and better life if I take the proper medicine. I also feel it is just as important that I have a say in what medicine I take and that it isn’t jammed down my throat against my will.

The Subway Musician

I hear the approach of the thundering hoards
I strap on my guitar and I play the same chords
I’ve played hundreds of times before
Instinctively I know what they like to hear
And I flash them my smile and as they draw near
A few drop some money
And then they are gone
I’m a subway musician, didn’t finish my song

I adjust all my strings and await the next throng
The footsteps draw closer, so I start the same song
I play the same chords as my endless encore
I’ve played for 8 hours and my fingers are sore
I regard every person as a personal friend
A coin hits the cup
They pass, I end
My drink’s at my feet, I’m thirsty, I bend

Am I chasing an impossible dream?
I live for the music and though it may seem
There are hundreds more like me
Just wanting their breaks
I have the talent, I have what it takes.

An echo snaps me back to the dimly lit hall
My voice rasps the lyrics; I give it my all
I smile and I nod as the masses arrive
I keep pounding the strings ‘cause I have to survive
They go on their way, but I keep playing the tune
My mind’s now on a stage
The crowd’s in a rage
And I play the last note and then take a bow

Am I chasing an impossible dream?
I live for the music and though it may seem
There are hundreds more like me
Just wanting their breaks
I have the talent, I have what it takes.

I pack up my gear and I go on my way
I will soon be discovered, tomorrow’s the day
For a subway musician who still has some hope
As I jingle the change that will help me to cope

Pleasing Others

You can never please everyone. Some of us try, though. There is a great risk when you do this.

Walk up to people and ask them if they will help you. The smart ones will ask what you want them to do or say, “It depends.” However, most will agree to assist even before they know what you want. A lot of this is based on the relationship you have and their trust in you.

For those who are eager to please, we have to learn that no is an acceptable answer, too. Like the celebrity who is inundated with requests, we have to realize that we need time to ourselves and to follow our dreams. Yes, it is great helping somebody, but there are times that the person has to do it himself.

There is another reason to say no. If we are busy looking after the needs of others, then we may lose ourselves in the process.

Here is my logic. I have been given one life. In that life, I have a path I must follow. That path may be shared with somebody else, but it is still my path, too. If I merely try to please other people, my purpose in life may be diverted. I will be helping somebody or many people, but I will not be doing it with a joyful heart. I will become a slave to the other person’s life. There are people whose calling may be to give their life away. If that describes you, then so be it. If it doesn’t, don’t allow guilt to force you to do something that is not for you.

Does this mean never giving in? Of course not, but it does mean evaluating where that decision will be taking me.

When people squabble, they often come up with the quote, “Love thy neighbour.” The forget the last part, “as thyself.” I have to love myself to some degree. If I don’t love myself, then what I give to others is something that I don’t consider valuable. Loving yourself can mean doing nice things for yourself once in awhile. Again, you don’t have to feel guilty about it.

Finally, you can fall in a rut by trying to constantly please people. They can train you like a rat in a Skinner box to keep on trying to please them more and more. The less satisfied they are, the harder you will try to please them. That isn’t much of a life, is it?

It is noble to please others, but it is also noble in making sure you are good to yourself, too.

Gift Wrapping Yourself

I was fortunate to grow up in the 60s. It was a decade where a lot of change happened. It was a time when authority was often challenged. With wide eyes I watched carefully the canvas that was being painted in front of my eyes. I often felt that I was on the outside looking in.

With the British invasion in music, hairstyles and clothing became bolder and quite opposite to what had been there a decade before. The only problem was that I was pretty much the same as I had been a decade before. My hair was slightly longer, but there was no way I would have been mistaken for one of the Beatles. My wardrobe was supplied through Christmas gifts from my brothers and sisters. I certainly had no budget for clothing.

When I went to Ryerson, I took Radio and Television Arts. Many in my class embraced the artistic culture of the day. I felt quite insecure that I wasn’t like them.

I remember mentioning to my teacher, Mr. Desourdy that it really didn’t matter what you wore. It was what was in your heart that really counted. His reply was something that I still think was wise.

He said, “John, do you think what is inside you is beautiful?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Do you want people to discover the beautiful gift you have on the inside?” he countered.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Then the way you present yourself is like the wrapping on a gift. If you wrap it nicely, people are going to want to open it up. If you make it unattractive on the outside, then many may not discover just how beautiful you are on the inside.”

I have since learned that Mr. Desourdy was talking about more than clothing. He was talking about the whole package, including posture and your body language. Another factor is your smile. Unfortunately, there are times when many, including myself, are not aware of the message our gift-wrapping is giving.

If you present yourself in a manner that says that you don’t care about yourself, then don’t expect others to care about you. Yes, you may be very beautiful on the inside, but you have to wrap your gifts well if you want people to notice them.

Mr. Desourdy’s Voices

Maury Desourdy taught me announcing at Ryerson in 1969-70. He had a voice that was as smooth as felt being rubbed on a marble table. He was also a remarkable teacher.

One lesson I remember well was where we read and recorded the same commercial ten times. Our number one voice was to be our most boring, dead, dull voice we could imagine. Our number ten voice was the most ridiculous voice we could create. For our number five voice, we were to speak with what we thought was most suitable for radio, in essence our broadcasting voice.

There were more than ten of us in the class. You can imagine the marathon reading of this short commercial. By the time the last person faced the microphone, we were ready to flee the room.

After being subjected to the equivalent of hearing all of the verses of 99 bottles of beer on the wall, we didn’t look forward to the playback. That is until Mr. Desourdy gave us a little assignment. He gave us sheets of paper numbered one to ten. We were to write the person reading the commercial in the provided space, then circle the voice number that we thought was the most suitable for radio.

The results were amazing! Remember, our number five voice was supposed to be the one that was what we felt was most suitable for radio. Guess what? Nobody succeeded. Nobody’s number five voice was interesting at all. Everybody was boring. The best anybody could come up with that captured the audience was a number seven voice. One poor soul, Nadine, didn’t achieve the desired delivery until the number nine voice, one shy of what she thought would be ridiculous.

What did we learn? We had to push ourselves well beyond what we thought was the normal speaking voice to have an interesting, refreshing delivery, one that would capture others and draw them in. We might feel like a fool doing so, because it meant going beyond our comfort zone. We might go too far and look silly. What is better, though, looking silly once in awhile or being boring all of the time? It wasn’t much of a choice.

I feel this has a direct application to our lives. It is very easy to live life using your number five voice. You chug right along and it becomes very comfortable to you. It is so comfortable that it can lull you to sleep. However, it isn’t until you extend yourself and take a few risks that things become interesting for you and for others. Yes, you might look foolish. You might even fall down. You might even lose a lot of things. However, along the way you just might gain the freedom from the things that make the difference between an ordinary life and an exceptional one. Also, you just might gain everything by taking the chance of doing something extraordinary. You will have to go outside your comfort zone to do this. Some can; many can not. Can you?

Where Did The Articles Go?

When you click on the dates to the left to view previous articles, it may appear as if I didn't write anything between December 31 and January 6. Such is not the case. To view the missing passages, you have to go down to the bottom of the January 6 entry and click on the hyperlink at the right that takes you to older posts.

Hopefully, you will see something that will make your day just a little bit brighter. Maybe you will discover the very words you need to encourage you in your situation, words that others may have missed because they didn't dig as deep.

We tend to do that with people, especially the first time we meet them. We form an impression immediately. Have you ever done this with somebody only to find that they are a much deeper person upon probing a bit more into their character? Just like my blog, try to take the time to search out the hidden nuggets in people. You could be surprised by what you find.

Love Your Neighbour

Whenever there is a dispute in a community, it seems somebody drags out the quote, “Love your neighbour.” The idea is to show everybody that somebody isn’t practising love in the situation.

However, they are missing two important words from the quote. It should read, “Love your neighbour as yourself.”

What does this mean? Here is how I take it.

Do you really love yourself? I remember being taught as a child that loving yourself was equal to being selfish. As I grew older, I found that this thought wasn’t necessarily true.

We all know people who are so into themselves that they don’t have any consideration or time for others. Everything is all about them. They are at the centre of their universe. I am not too fond of being around people who are this full of themselves.

We also know people who are so modest that their feelings about themselves are of little worth. I am even less fond of being around these people, and this includes myself when I feel this way.

I teach many kids who don’t love themselves. Being around them can really drag you down. The world seems suddenly gloomy and negative. There is no laughter.

I think it is important to love yourself. This means being confident of yourself. It means wanting the very best for yourself and not accepting any less.

Why, then, is it important to love yourself? For me, the reason is so that when I give my gifts to others, I feel I am giving something valuable.

Let’s pretend that I look upon myself as fine rubies. When I give my rubies to friends, relatives, even enemies, I know I am giving something precious. In most cases, they feel that they are getting something special.

Now let’s pretend that I look upon myself as gravel from the driveway. When I give this to others, I don’t feel very special. Unless the recipient is making a driveway, the gift isn’t deemed with much value.

Don’t feel guilty if you want to love yourself a lot. Anyway, there are enough people in the world who will try to make you feel small.

Give yourself a big hug today and tell yourself how wonderful you are.

Promises

I need your help with this one. I have jotted down a few things that I have given myself permission to do, but I want you to help contribute to that list. Please leave a comment. Let's have fun with this.

From this day forward, I will give myself permission to:
·Fall flat on my face as long as I am trying to do something
·Forgive myself for anything
·Dream of going to the remotest places on the Earth and believing that it can happen
·Do things without worrying about the approval of others
·Take risks that make me feel alive
·Eat dessert first, if I want to
·Cry when I am happy
·Cry when I am sad
·Dance wherever and whenever I want to and that means anywhere and anytime
·Explore the beliefs of others and allow them their freedom to do so
·Think so far outside of the box that people don’t even know there’s a box
·Tell anyone I love them as long as I mean it
·Say something nice to anyone as long as I mean it
·Accept myself for who I am

Ray Bennett

You’ve got to go visit Ray Bennett. That is what I tell our bed and breakfast guests when they come to St. Marys.

Certainly Ray is one of the better-looking men in St. Marys. I think he looks a lot like the singer Jack Jones. He owns the men’s clothing store in town and is the best advertisement for the quality he stocks.

The display in his store window is usually creative and tasteful. The building has some historical value, too.

These are all good reasons to visit Ray Bennett’s Men’s Wear, but that is not why I tell people to visit Ray.

If you meet Ray Bennett, he has that rare ability of making you feel better after you meet him than when you came into the store, even if you purchase nothing. I can attest to this. I often drop in just to say hello and get my “fix” of good will.

He advertises in the local newspapers. There is only a hint in his publicity that he sells clothing. The ads are called “Vest-Pocket Smile”, and usually include some wise saying like “there is no use looking at where you have just ploughed.”

So, how does he do it? He has that rare ability of making you feel like the most important person in the world once you enter into his store. There is always a cheery hello and a big smile. If you get in a conversation with him, he knows what is going on in the world and has valuable insights on most topics.

Ray has been in the clothing business for almost 50 years. One of these days he will retire, I guess. I hope it isn’t soon.

Paul Potts

You have a dream. I have a dream. We all have them. Paul Potts was able to realize his and there are many in the world who cheer this unlikely hero.

If you are unfamiliar with this man, he was the recent winner of the Britain’s Got Talent contest. Have a look at his first appearance.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NLF9iEXnBRo&NR=1

I have a neighbour who is really into opera. When I brought up the name of Paul Potts, I was surprised by his negative reaction. His face turned very sour and he stated that Potts was actually bad for opera.

Rightly or wrongly, he has adopted a Frasier and Niles approach to opera. I concede that he knows much, much more than I do about the subject. He also has a better understanding of what is good and what isn’t.

Perhaps Paul Potts doesn’t have the vocal talent of the best in the world. When you see him in the clip above, he certainly doesn’t present himself in the most positive way. He is shy and insecure, that is until he starts doing the one thing in the world he feels he is destined to do.

I think my neighbour is missing the point. Paul Potts is not about having the most beautiful voice in the world. He is not about years of training under some of the masters of the world. He is about the ordinary guy chasing his dream and succeeding against all odds. In the process, he introduces many of us to some of opera’s greatest pieces. That can’t be bad, can it? In the words of the song in the movie Flashdance, “Take your passion and make it happen.”

You can't argue that his passion moves others. Watch the clip again. Listen to the spontaneous eruption of the audience. Watch the emotions of the judges, especially the female one. If that isn't good for opera, I don't know what is.

The example of Paul Potts gives many of us the hope to press on towards our dream.

My dreams are all I have now
And I hope they will come true
I must have faith that they will happen
And the courage to see them through

Yes, the journey may be rough
With obstacles along the way
But I will take the steps towards them
And the adventure can start today

Who’s to say it cannot happen
There’s some who will say just that
I have the choice to believe them
And in the process fall flat

However, if I keep my vision
And keep saying I can do it
I will one day be standing tall
And saying “Yes, I knew it.”

In The Fog

It can creep up on you like a hunter pursuing his prey. You are driving along a road and suddenly the fog envelops your car. You are plunged into the uncomfortable realization that your visibility is severely reduced.

What can you do? If you stop, you run the risk of somebody crashing into the rear end of your car. Continuing on presents some danger, too, but it is usually the only option until you can find a spot where you can get off the road and into safety.

We found ourselves several years ago in a similar situation. We had to catch the ferry to Nova Scotia from Saint John, New Brunswick. We had reservations on the boat and there was no way we could be late. We had to continue on in the fog during the night or we would miss the voyage.

We made it with time to spare. How did I do it? I continued our forward progress, but instead of focussing on the unknown horizon in the fog, I concentrated on staying to the right of the line on the road close to me. I knew as long as I advanced and was to the right of the line I was pretty safe.

Many of you may be in a position in life where you are in a fog. You are surrounded by problems or a difficult situation and your goal in life has vanished into the clouds. Like the driver who is navigating through the fog, you don’t have a clue what is ahead. Stopping isn’t much of an option and there is no safe place to park your problem. Like the driver in the fog, you can still move forward, staying close to the line and staying on course to the right, creeping along day by day or minute by minute. You can have the confidence that you are making progress and that the fog will lift one day and you will be basking in the sunshine.

Happy New Year

For many this is a special day of the year.

It is a day when some are nursing the effects of a hangover.

On a more positive note, it is a time when many evaluate what happened in the last year. We are thankful for the abundance we have and put some of the bad moments behind us.

We also make a fresh start on the new year. Often these take the form of resolutions. We promise that we are going to do this or that. We look forward to what lies ahead.

Aside from realizing that I don’t have any 2008 calendars in my house at the moment, what really is so special about today? Why can’t I celebrate in the same way in May?

Can I not be thankful every day for the abundance I have?

Can I not put bad moments behind me every day?

Can I not make a fresh start every day the same way I do on January 1?

Can I not anticipate the joy of this day and what lies ahead tomorrow?

Yes, I wish everyone a happy new year. May it be filled with 365 New Year’s Days (except for those with hangovers)!

Scrabble

Since I was a youngster, I have always enjoyed a good game of Scrabble. It’s a great way to develop your vocabulary and spelling skills. It also leads to interesting conversation as words that are used trigger discussions.

I’m sure you do the same as I do. If you have a difficult combination of letters or it’s near the end of the game and you want to get rid of some tiles, you invent words then make up silly definitions. When I do this, I can’t do it with a straight face and everybody laughs at my attempts to cheat.

Getting stuck with the Q is a dilemma. Do you spend a turn putting it back in the mix, knowing you might get it again, or do you wait until you get a U? Heaven help you if you get the Q and the Z at the same time, unless you can make the word QUIZ.

Playing Scrabble is a lot like life in many ways.

You take tiles from the pile as you make new words. The longer the words, the more tiles you get to take. In life, the more you put into it, the more you tend to get out of it.

Often you have many choices for words you can make. Deciding which one is the best is difficult. I’m sure you have been at points in your life where you have difficult choices to make. Once you have decided, just like Scrabble, it is useless to look back once the tiles are down. You can only plough ahead believing that you made a wise decision.

Long words don’t guarantee you many points. It is how they tiles interact with the board and other words that make for high scores. In a similar manner, how you apply what you have with other people and the world will dictate how well you make out.

To me, the most important lesson is making due with what you have. There will be times when you have mostly vowels or consonants. Often you have letters that just don’t work well together. Sometimes there isn’t the space you need on the board. You have to do the best with your tiles and move on. Haven’t there been times when life is difficult and nothing seems to be working out the way you want? All you have to do is keep doing your best with what you have and things will eventually work out as new letters are added to your life.

When I’m Not With You

The St. Marys Community Players recently put on a play called Letters in Wartime. It is about the struggles of a young couple during World War II. He is stationed in Europe and she is working in a factory in Edmonton.

Canada has troops in Afghanistan. I often wonder how the families cope with their loved ones so far away.

It is often said that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but others say out of sight, out of mind. Which one is true? It is sort of like the philosophical question, “If a tree falls in a forest and nobody hears it, does it make a sound?” The idea is that sound requires an ear to hear it to exist.

I think love is different. Unlike being a receptor to a stimulus, it is the source and requires nothing to “hear” it to exist. It is sort of like a clock that keeps on ticking. When you leave home at noon and return three hours later, you expect your clock to say 3 o’clock. In fact, you would be very surprised if it didn’t.

I have found this true with friends who love me. Even though we may be apart, when we meet again, time hasn’t stood still.

As I think of the families with loved ones risking their lives overseas, I am comforted to know that the love that they have for each other can still continue just like the clock keeps ticking. When they are reunited, their love will be as strong as ever.

When I’m not with you
Don’t ever think my love will go away
Don’t ever believe my feelings will sway
I still love you

When you are so far
Every heartbeat still calls out your name
While the fire’s not roaring, there’ll always be a flame
Cause I adore you

Yes, I miss you so much
I long for your smile
And your tender touch
I’d crawl for a mile
To see you again
But until I do
I’m saving my todays
For a future with you

Another day passes
I cover loneliness with hope
Knowing we’re another day closer helps me cope
And knowing I love you

Yes, I miss you so much
I long for your smile
And your tender touch
I’d crawl for a mile
To see you again
But until I do
I’m saving my todays
For a future with you

You are with me now
I see your face in front of me
So clearly that the dream will become a reality
And we’ll be together

La Senza

On Boxing Day, I boldly went where few men have gone before.

I had given my wife a gift certificate to La Senza for Christmas. What is La Senza, you ask? It is a shop for women’s underwear that is a bit more intimate than you would get in most places. I have survived to tell of the experience.

On most days, my guess is that shopping there is a casual, relaxed occasion. On Boxing Day, it is anything but.

As we approached the door, one of the employees stood guard. At first I thought she was checking to see that nobody was walking away without paying. Then it seemed she was there to make sure there weren’t too many in the store. I finally figured out that her main role was to make sure the few men who were in the store didn’t escape.

It was terrible. All sorts of underwear were flying about – lacy, frilly things, thongs, bras, slips. Women’s hands were groping through bins furiously like thieves ransacking a home. I retreated to a remote area of the store in order to avoid the frenzy. Not a wise move. I was cornered. Several women advanced on my position and I scurried away like a bug after a rock has revealed its hiding place. I didn’t know where to go. Like the ball in a pinball machine, I was flipped from table to table.

Finally, my wife finished her purchases. She gave a nod to the woman at the door, at least it seemed that way, and I was allowed to leave the store and into the welcome arms of the mall.

For what seemed an eternity, I waited for my wife to emerge from the swarming mass of limbs in La Senza. In her hand was a petite paper bag holding her loot.

Would I venture into that store again? All I can say is never again on Boxing Day.

Benazir Bhutto

Sometime life just gets in the way. I had planned a comical article for my blog today. Then Benazir Bhutto was assassinated yesterday. It changed my perspective on what I wanted to say.

As soon as she returned to her native Pakistan, Bhutto knew the potential of being killed. The way she thrust herself into crowds meant that no matter how tightly security was provided, there would be ample opportunity for an attack. I remember thinking to myself when I saw her depart from the airplane after her exile of several years that it was only a matter of time. In fact, that very day a suicide bomber killed 140 during the homecoming procession. Pakistan is just too volatile at the moment for any deemed an enemy to terrorists to be safe.

My first question is why she would put herself in such a position. I have read all I can in the past few hours to get an answer to this question. Newspaper articles have mentioned a deep sense of duty and a love for the people of Pakistan. Mention has been made of foreign interests, backed by her own convictions, about a strengthening of democracy in the country.

I’m sure there were many reasons, but I think it was following her convictions that stands out in my mind. Being willing to give up your life for something you believe in is a quality that few seem to possess today.

It has been said that if you stand for nothing, you will fall for anything.

In today’s world, there are few people who will stand up for their principles. The main reason for this is fear. Whether you agree with her politics or not, you should admire the courage that Bhutto showed. There needs to be more people in the world like her.

People like the person who killed Benazir Bhutto are full of fear. They are cowards. They are afraid to debate their ideas in a public forum. Their dogma insists that their fear is transferred to others through terrorism. Allowing this fear to control your life is to allow this violence to continue. Running away does no good. This control by fear will only continue if you try to avoid it. It must be met head on.

Meanwhile a world mourns the death of a great person and waits expectantly for the next brave soul to take her place.

Pushing On

Since I started this blog on August 23, I have written 119 articles and poems. My goal is to write for a year and then evaluate the experience at that point.

As I write more and more, the ideas that were in my pool of ideas have been depleted. Like a gold mine, I have to dig deeper for something to say. Sometimes the search yields words that are, perhaps, not so profound.

I am reminded of marathon runners. They have to cover a distance of over 26 miles. I am told that there is a time during the race when they hit a wall. Their body, depleted of oxygen, just wants to give up. At that point the athlete has to focus on the goal and continue on, ignoring the cues to stop. Once this barrier is broken, it goes away and the runner is able to continue on quite comfortably.

I am at that point. I feel I have accomplished quite a lot writing what I have. I hope you have enjoyed my articles. It would be easy for me to pack it all in and be happy for my accomplishment. However, I have set the goal to write for a year and I am going to push on. Like the runner, I hope a new wave of ideas will emerge as I experience. I look forward to seeing what lies ahead as I run down paths I have never explored before.

To stop at this point would take me nowhere and I would be missing the opportunity of enjoying the new scenery I will encounter.

Does that mean you should never give up? It all depends on how badly you want to reach your goal. If you do want to reach it, you have to press on because there will be times when you want to give up. Don’t!

However, I must confess. I have given up on my childhood dreams of playing for the Toronto Maple Leafs and the New York Yankees.

Mistaken Identity

That John Stevens is a real pest! I don’t mean myself, although I can be a pain at times. It’s those other guys with the same name. They seem to get in the way all of the time.

Every time I have bought a house, the lawyers have had to smooth things over because somebody with the name of John Stevens has done something wrong.

This past week, he came into my life once more. This time it was at the American border at Port Huron.

The customs officer swiped my passport through the reader and my name was immediately flagged. She immediately said that it couldn’t be me, though, because the other John Stevens is a black male. If you look at my picture to the left, you will see that I am definitely not black. That was the good news. The bad news was that I would still have to go through the paperwork inside, even though they knew that it wasn’t me. I don’t quite understand why, but I’ve learned that there are times when it is better not to ask questions.

I was escorted to the customs office. It was little comfort that, like American Express customers, I was taken to the front of the line. The process added a half an hour to the trip. An agent by the name of Mazur poked around at the keyboard, occasionally stopping to read the screen and saying very little. My guess is that he was playing some video game to look busy.

I found all the things that the other John Stevens and I didn’t have in common. I have never been to Seattle. I am a bit older. I am not black, although Mazur jokingly asked me if I had ever been black. He also smiled when he suggested that I might think of changing my name. “Like to Mazur?” I replied with a grin.

Now, I wouldn’t be that concerned if this was the only occurrence, but in the last 4 years I have been detained at borders on 5 different occasions. The only fear I have is that one time the match may be too close.

Silent Night

Christmas is a special day. For some it is the gifts. Others like being with family. Maybe it’s the feast that is so lovingly prepared.

I like Christmas for another reason. Pretty well everything stops. It is quiet. After the hustle and bustle in all of the stores, there is not much to do.

It gives us time to reflect. It makes me think of the first Christmas, a little baby born in a manger.

Aside from the odd noise from an animal and, perhaps, the baby crying there was stillness in the air.

What a contrast to what we have made Christmas into.

For one day, today, there are no deadlines looming. That all changes tomorrow with the Boxing Day sales, but I’ll think about that tomorrow.

Silent night. Yes, I like that.

Our First Christmas in London, England

It was October when our money ran out and we had to decide whether to return to Canada, stay in England, or see what other adventures there might be in Europe.

I had typed my résumé with an old manual typewriter in the highlands of Scotland. The day came when I felt in my bones that it was right to take it to the office of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation on Titchfield Street in London. Was it just coincidence that a job had been created two hours before I entered the door and that my qualifications and skills fit it perfectly?

When Christmas approached a couple of months later, we still didn’t have much money. We budgeted about $20 for each of us. Marie raced around the shops trying to find me a toque, only to find out eventually the British have no idea what a toque is. They call it a woolly hat.

Being new to the city and knowing nobody, we intended to go to a pub or a restaurant for our Christmas meal. I would make the reservation a couple of days before.

The office was buzzing as Christmas approached. Everyone was planning their festivities. Ann, a colleague, came up to my desk and asked, “John, what are your plans for Christmas?” I told her about going to a restaurant or a pub. “Do you know that there won’t be many that are open,” she stated. I replied that I would find one somewhere. Then the hammer came down. “How are you going to get there?” she asked. I replied, “By underground or bus.” “Don’t you know that the whole public transportation system is shut down on Christmas Day?” blurted Ann. Really? One of the biggest cities in the world and there is no transport on Christmas Day? It couldn’t be! It was! Sure, we could have hired a cab, but the fare would be way over our budget, especially since everything else was shut down. My heart sunk. We would be alone on Christmas Day.

A few minutes later, Cliff, my boss, sauntered into the room. “What-cha doing for Christmas,” he asked. My eyes widened like saucers and I whined, “I don’t know.” “Then it’s settled,” he said, “You’re coming to our place.” “But I don’t have a car, and I can’t afford a taxi,” I stammered. “No problem, I’ll come and pick you up,” stated Cliff nonchalantly.

What you have to appreciate is that Cliff lived 45 minutes away. To come and fetch us was a one and a half hour drive for him. To take us home that evening was another hour and a half. That’s three hours of driving on Christmas Day.

The day arrived, and at the appointed time, Cliff was at our doorstep. The streets were vacant as we crossed town. London was usually bustling, but the eerie quietness gave new meaning to the carol, Silent Night.

We arrived to a warm, comfortable home, trimmed for the festive season. Rosea, Cliff’s wife, his two daughters and his dad greeted us as if we were family. There was even a gift for Marie and me under the tree.

We celebrated throughout the afternoon, concocting our own recipe for eggnog from scratch, since the stores didn’t carry it. We tucked into a traditional Christmas meal, complete with the stuffed turkey and Christmas pudding with custard. In the evening, we played games, including an animated round of charades. Laughter filled the air.

The time came for us to return home. Without a flinch, Cliff drove us home. We thanked him over and over during the trip, then over again when we got out of the car.

Yes, I have celebrated Christmas many times and in many different ways, but this one was the special one. While there was a gift for us under the tree of our hosts, the biggest gift we received was their love. Many years have passed since then, but not a Christmas goes by when that love doesn’t return, followed by a warm glow in my soul.

“For God so loved the world he gave …” That Christmas, Cliff and his family taught me that love is just that. It is giving, especially to those who have no means to repay you for your kindness.

Since my time in England, I remember that special love that was extended to us. Better than that, though, I find myself walking up to people and asking “What are you doing for Christmas?” knowing that if they have nowhere to go I will be following Cliff’s example and passing his gift to me on to them.

Would You Like That Gift-Wrapped?

I'll be away from my computer for a few days, so there probably won't be any contributions to my blog until Christmas Eve. Come back then. I have a good story, I promise. Hope you enjoy today's.

I have had the good fortune to have many jobs in my life. Some have fitted rather well. Others have not.

When I was in high school, I got a Christmas job at Morse Jewellers in Northtown Plaza in Willowdale. Why they hired me is anyone’s guess. I don’t wear any jewellery. I have no sense on what looks nice or not. After a few weeks of working there, a tally of the sales figures showed that I wasn’t much more than a warm body in the store.

Being a people person, I enjoyed meeting the customers. I remember selling a lot of British Sterling after-shave to women wanting something special for their husbands. When they pondered whether he might like it, I would indicate to them that while their man might be wearing the after-shave, it was really a purchase for their pleasure, since they would be the ones smelling it.

Having low sales was bad enough, but something happened that made my boss very angry.

A girl about 8 years old came into the store to buy a special Christmas gift for her mother. She had $5. That was all - $5. There were very few items you could get at Morse Jewellers for $5 or less. We searched high and low, from side to side, and inside and out to find the handful of gifts for that price. We found a few.

When you have lots of money, it usually is easy to find what you want and pay for it. Often it is the inexpensive gifts that you have to think about. You want the best value for your money. That little girl and I spent about half an hour weighing the merits of each item. She finally decided.

I asked her, “Would you like that gift-wrapped?” She gushed, “Yes. Would you?” I said, “Of course!”

I put her trinket in a nice blue box, wrapped gold paper around it and put a bow on it. My boss, George, was watching me like a vulture looking at roadkill.

When I was finished serving the girl and she exited the store, he called me into the back room. He explained that I should never have spent so much time with such a small sale when other customers were waiting, and that gift-wrapping such a “cheap” gift was a waste of money.

My reply was that while that gift may have been “cheap” to him, it was much, much more valuable to that little girl.

Then I asked him to consider that in about 15 years that little girl would be a grown woman. Since I gave her such good service and treated her like the most important customer in the store, didn’t he think that she might come back when she needed, perhaps, an engagement ring?

While I expected to be fired for my reply, I could see that he understood my logic.

There are no guarantees in life, it is only when you give your very best at what you do, you can expect the very best in return. To be noticed, you can’t do the ordinary, you have to do the extraordinary. Finally, showing love is not doing what is expected of you. It is doing well beyond what is expected of you. It is giving everything you can.

Reality Shows

They call them reality shows even though most of them are closer to fantasy than reality.

How many men do you know who start with a dozen or so girlfriends and eliminate them one by one until only one remains? How many people do you know who go to a remote place in the earth to survive?

I think we need to start thinking up some different reality shows that deal with real-life situations.

In Find Osama, teams comb Iraq, Afghanistan, Iran and Pakistan for Osama Bin Laden. It is a bit like the Find Waldo books, but using a real person. The winners get $5 million.

Another show I would be interested in seeing is called Follow the Junk Mail. In this program, the television camera follows the lives of people who answered the person’s plea for them to help him get millions of dollars out of Nigeria. It lets you know what really happened to the person who forwarded an email for luck to seven of his friends. It shows you how rich the person became who believed that Bill Gates is giving away money for people who forward a message. It tells you what would really happen if you took the stock tips you get emails about. The list could go on and on about the possible episodes you could show.

One of my favourites would be The Substitute Teacher and the Class from Hell. We would get CEOs from some of the major corporations and let them be a substitute teacher for a day with some of the more difficult classes. A special version of the program would have Dr. Phil make a guest appearance. If they succeeded, valuable insights on working with students would be learned. If not, then a greater appreciation of what teachers face daily would be gained.

The final show would be How I Got My Job. It would give viewers the low-down on what really goes on behind the scenes when filling positions. Is the best candidate always chosen? How many get the job because of connections?

There you have it, my fall line-up for my network. Do you have any suggestions?

The Cake-Baking Contest

Men can be so competitive. Some thrive on it. Even I can be drawn into a good competition, especially if it is fun.

A church I attended in Ottawa was looking for ideas for fellowship. I suggested a cake-baking contest among the men. The women would be the judges. I was surprised how quickly all the men leapt into the challenge.

Everything had to be made from scratch. No cake mixes were allowed. There were two categories, presentation and taste. I wasn’t too concerned about the presentation, but I wanted the bragging rights that went along with the best-tasting cake.

Marie was having a shower at our house a few weeks before the judging, so I thought I would do a trial run on my masterpiece. The name of my cake was The Poor Man’s Black Forest.

Since I knew women would be the judges, and since I know women love chocolate, I made sure there was lots of the decadent substance in it.

One of the secrets of the recipe is black cherry jell-o. You make it, but don’t let it set. When the cake comes out of the oven, you prick the cake all over with a fork and put the jell-o mixture in it to be soaked up. The end result is a very moist, very heavy, but very rich and tasty dessert.

The women at this shower gobbled it up. Sounds of satisfaction emanated from the dining room. It was in the bag. I’m sure I would be the winner. All I had to do was duplicate the recipe.

Oops! I had forgotten to write down what I had done. I figured that this would be no problem. I had done everything by taste, so all I had to do was add the ingredients until it tasted the same.

The Sunday of the competition came. Since I wanted my cake to be fresh, I waited until the morning to bake it. I rushed around the kitchen and created what I thought was the same recipe and plunked it in the oven. When it came out and I placed it on the plate for icing, it looked perfect. The only problem was that I hadn’t calculated into my preparation the time needed for letting the cake cool.

I started applying the icing – chocolate, of course. I had to keep the women judges happy. The cake started crumbling like a building being demolished. Large chunks my masterpiece were being consumed by the icing, forming large gobs of a gooey mess. My cake was ruined.

Like a true sport, I entered it anyway. It didn’t come last. Last place went to a joker who had made a phoney cake out of concrete. One of the competitors left his cake outside and a couple of dogs ate half of it, so it came in second last. My cake was next.

There is no doubt that my cake tasted fine, it just didn’t look like a cake. It resembled a pudding.

I did learn something though. In order to prepare a cake, you have to give it time. You may have put all the right ingredients in it, but it has to take time to bake and cool before you can put icing on it. If you try to hurry it, it just won’t work.

This applies to many things in life. If it is worth doing, it is worth doing right, and that often means having patience for the process to take place. Many, myself included, have to work at learning to wait and have the faith that the reward at the end will be well worth it.

Now, anyone for a piece of my cake?

Flipping A Coin

In life, we often have to make difficult decisions. Should we do this or should we do that?

A good friend of mine once gave me this tidbit of information.

She said that you can mentally or actually get a coin. Determine that if it lands heads, it will be one choice. If it is tails, it will be the other. Then what you do is flip it. When the coin is in the air, your heart will tell you whether you want it to land heads or tails.

Often our head tells us logically what we should do. In my life I have tended to follow my heart. While some of my decisions haven’t made sense to others, the passion I have had for the path I have followed has usually brought me success.

If your head and your heart actually agree on something, then you have a real winner!

Charlie Hustle

Whether you think he should be allowed in the Baseball Hall of Fame or not, you can’t dispute the on-field performance of Pete Rose.

One of the qualities he possessed was trying to maximize any potential. On routine pop flies that other players would casually run out, he would be sprinting. He figured that the defensive player would eventually make an error and when that happened he wanted to take full advantage of it. He made sure he was ready and running at full speed when any opportunity presented itself.

His philosophy could be summed up in his own words. “In every game there has to be a winner and a loser, and I try to make it a habit of letting the other guy lose.”

How are you doing in life? Are you running full-tilt, doing your very best for when that opportunity arrives or are you merely going through the motions? No matter what you do, you want to maximize your good fortune when it arrives.

What fuelled Pete Rose to make him hustle when others would slack off? Passion. He had a passion for the game that few have ever had. That is the other quality you need in whatever you do.

A friend, Bill, gave an example last night. He is an associate consultant with an investment company. He talked about serving a client with a small investment far beyond what was expected. The client’s father suddenly won $4 million in a lottery and wanted to invest the money. Guess whom they came to for advice?

Is it as simple as passionately doing your very best and waiting for the right opportunity? Do you think going through the motions and not being ready for your break is going to do it for you? Regardless, which path will create a feeling of participating actively in life?

Could’a, would’a, should’a

On a dull, snowy morning in Ontario, I thought this might lighten the mood a bit.

Last year I took an course to learn how to teach English as a second language. Part of it was the usage of the verbs could have, would have and should have and the difference among them. From that lesson came this poem.

Could’a, would’a, should’a
I didn’t listen to my heart
Could’a, would’a, should’a
I have loved you from the start
Even though my head kept telling me
That the timing was not right
Still I could’a, would’a, should’a,
And I’d have you with me tonight.

Could’a, would’a, should’a
I think of you every day
Could’a, would’a, should’a
I search for the perfect words to say
That my love for you grows stonger
It increases every day
And I could’a, would’a, should’a
‘Cause this feeling won’t go away

Could’a, would’a, should’a
Sure it may seem rather strange
Could’a, would’a, should’a
Perhaps there’s something we can arrange
We can have a new beginning
We can get together somehow
Then our could’a, would’a, should’a
Will be happening right now.

Self-fulfilling Prophecy

Proverbs 23: 7 - “As a man thinketh in his heart, so he is.”

The batter hits the ball high in the air towards right field. It arcs majestically against the sky. It is going right towards Sammy. Everybody in the park knows that he’s going to drop it. Sammy knows that he’s going to drop it. He drops it.

This scene has been replayed time and time again on fields around the world. It doesn’t have to be a fielder; it sometime is a batter you know is going to strike out. It doesn’t even have to be baseball. It can be anything.

It’s called a self-fulfilling prophecy. I wasn’t familiar with this term until I took a psychology class in university. Basically it means that what you believe will usually happen.

If you believe you are going to flunk a test, you probably will. If you think the meal you are making for your new in-laws will be a disaster, it probably will. If you think you will be in a car accident, better call your insurance agent. In all these cases, your visualizing the worst-case scenario will greatly increase the possibility of it actually happening.

There are people in the world who sow the negative seeds of the self-fulfilling prophecy. They are the people who put their fears on you. For example, their fears that something might happen to you make you uneasy and possibly help the unfortunate event happen. They are usually the first ones to say, “I told you so.”

So what do you do? First, look at history. There were plenty of people who said humans would never fly, let alone walk on the moon. You have the choice to believe those thoughts. Also, you can replace those thoughts with positive ones. You don’t have to believe the nay-sayers. If self-fulfilling prophecy works with negative thoughts, it can also work with positive ones.

George Bernard Shaw said, "You see things; and you say, ‘Why?’ But I dream things that never were; and I say, ‘Why not?’ " What message are you playing in your mind?

When I started playing softball, I was like Sammy. I was hoping the batter wouldn’t hit the ball to me. Eventually those thoughts were replaced with positive ones and I was begging for the batter to hit it to me. Can you guess which thoughts allowed me to enjoy the game the most and perform the best?

When the game was on the line, Michael Jordan wanted the ball. He already saw the ball going in before he shot.

Pete Rose, who holds the record for the most hits in baseball, was asked how many times in a game he thought he was going to get a hit. He answer was, “Every time.” Did he get a hit every time? No, but his belief that he would greatly increased his success.

It’s the same with life. Put positive, happy thoughts in your mind and you will tend to be happy. If you are constantly worrying that something MIGHT happen, you will not lead a full life and probably not reach your potential. What does worrying do most of the time anyway? It usually prevents you from doing your best in a situation.

It comes down to the simple saying. If you think you can, you may be right. If you think you can’t, you are almost certainly right. Put another way, success comes in cans!

The Dilemma

This one is not original. I saw it on a teacher's bulletin board yesterday. When I read it, I decided that it belonged on my blog.

To laugh is to risk appearing a fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out for another is to risk involvement.
To expose your feelings is to risk rejection.
To place your dreams before the crowd is to risk being laughed at.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To go forward in the face of overwhelming odds is to risk possible failure.

BUT risks must be taken, because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing. The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, is nothing. He or she may avoid the suffering and sorrow, but they cannot learn, feel, change, grow, or love. Chained by their fears, they are a slave. They have taken away their own freedoms. Only people who believe in themselves are capable of taking risks that will allow them to live the life they truly believe is within their grasp. Strive for success, but also accept that defeat may come your way sometimes. Learn from your mistakes to help you to be a more complete person. Trust in yourself and in those you care about to make each day a happy one. No matter what the situation is, people who are in control of their feelings and use good judgment will have the peace of mind knowing that they have done everything within their power to control their own destiny. If one frowns all of the time, one will see only the negative things in life. Smile and the rest of the world will smile back at you!

Keep this poem and read each line slowly to yourself when you are feeling uncertain about some aspect in your life and try to think about what it is that will make your heart and soul feel happy, not just in the immediate time, but in the long years to come. If you fear the future, you are no different than anyone else, but if you attack that fear and decide that it will NOT beat you, you will have a greater chance to be in control. I wish you happiness in the future. Keep smiling!

I read this and was inspired. I hope you are, too.

Christmas Traditions

Every family has them. There is something in the family lore that says Christmas for your clan.

I remember asking a group of the traditions that they had. The most unusual one was that the father made kidneys for breakfast on Christmas Day.

With a family of eight children, Christmas was one of the few times when we did things together. We had many traditions. I say had because my parents have died and we all have our own lives now.

My mother started baking around mid-November. We all had our favourite cookies. I liked the peanut butter drops and the peanut butter cookies. Cecil liked the Chinese chews. As a young child, I didn’t appreciate the fruitcakes, one light and one dark, but I eventually enjoyed them. The goodies were placed in a cupboard halfway down our basement stairs and we were instructed not to touch them until Christmas day, but we snuck one or two early ones.

We went to the fruit market to buy our tree. We always got a blue spruce. Then we all pitched in to decorate it. It is one of the few things we did together as a family. Mom had paper chains that some of my brothers and sisters had done decades before. They were so old that the colours had faded, but they still took a place of honour on the tree. We had a vast assortment of ornaments and tinsel. We had a windup monkey with a comb and a mirror that we fought to place on a branch. When all was said and done, mom would place the windup black cat on a branch and we would see who would be the first one to find it.

We strung streamers diagonally across our living room with a paper bell in the middle. Each year the bell looked shabbier and shabbier, but we kept putting it up.

Black Magic chocolates were also a big part of our tradition. It was the only time of the year they were in our house. We each had our own shapes. I had the orange one that looked like an exclamation mark and the crescent-shaped coffee chocolate.

With so many people in the house, the gifts seem to take half of the living room. It was so tempting to look at all of them to try to find the ones for me. Being the youngest, everyone bought something for me, so I was quite fortunate.

Then we all sat down for our turkey dinner. One year we had 28 people stuffed into a small room. We didn’t invite anyone. The 28 comprised of my brothers, sisters and their children. My father always ate the part of the turkey called the pope’s nose.

With so many people in the house, Christmas day was chaotic. I often went down to the basement or up to my room for some peace and quiet. It also got very hot. We often opened up the doors just to cool our home down.

These special memories of Christmas will never go away. If you would like to leave a comment sharing some of your festive traditions, please feel welcome to do so.

Caracas, 1983

It was the only time the Canadian women’s team ever won the gold medal at a major softball competition. No one could have guessed it would have happened.

Until 1983, the Canadian champions bolstered by a few choice players represented Canada. What this created was a major recruitment tool for the Canadian champions. Also, talented players never got the chance to represent their country. Finally, some of the shenanigans what went on behind the scenes that shouldn’t have happened.

It was time for Canada to be represented by its best players, period.

The only problem was that the coach of the national championship team persuaded his players to boycott the training camp. He figured that we would come begging on our knees and put many of his players on his team on the national team. He was wrong.

The result was that we went to Caracas with what many would have said was a team far weaker than our potential. It was questionable whether we would even win a medal. The United States for the first time was fielding a team with its best players. I figured that they would totally dominate the tournament, and they nearly did.

When the athletes arrived at the village where they were accommodated, they found things less than satisfactory. For example, drains were installed at the wrong end of the slope in the shower, so the water didn’t drain adequately.

The situation was so bad that both the men’s and women’s American teams left and went to hotels.

The Canadian teams did not have that option. The men’s team coaches basically told their players that they only had to put up with this for one week, so to grin and bear it.

The women’s team coaches handled the situation much better. The next morning they assembled in the cafeteria with the players and complained. They complained that the bar stools were too short, the air conditioning was too cold, the shag carpet was too long and several other things that didn’t exist. Pretty soon the players were laughing and adding to the mythical residences they had.

The big difference between the two teams is that the men’s team took a negative experience and neutralized it. The women’s team actually made it positive. They made the situation laughable.

Did we win the championship because we were able to laugh at adversity? Partially, but there were many other factors that contributed to our success, one being a tactical error on behalf of the United States. However, the spirit of these women to concentrate on doing their very best and nothing less was a key factor.

The Fitness Test

I had the pleasure a few years ago of speaking with Cheryl Pounder, one of the members of the Canadian Women’s hockey team that won the gold medal at the 2002 Olympics in Salt Lake City.

Although Canada had dominated women’s ice hockey for years, it had to settle for the silver medal at the 1998 Nagano Olympics, losing to the United States. In the years that followed, the USA became the team to beat.

Leading up to the 2002 Olympics, the Canadian squad had lost quite a few consecutive exhibition games to the Americans, who were favoured to repeat as Olympic champions.

Pounder told me that one of the important events in selecting the team was the fitness test. She said it was difficult, extremely difficult. It was so difficult that some of the players gave up. In the end, she said, nobody passed the test.

Then she revealed the secret. The coaching staff had designed the test so nobody could pass. The test was designed to measure the hearts of the players when faced with impossible odds. The coaches felt that in order to beat the Americans, they would have to assemble a team where nobody would ever give up, no matter what the circumstances. Those who gave up too easily were not considered worthy of being on the team.

Against a strong American team, the Canadians hung on to win the final game 3-2 and the gold medal.

There are times in our life when we may be facing something like the fitness test the Canadian women were put through. Just like them, the experience may be simply a measure of our heart to push on when others would give up, so that we can eventually meet destiny head on and come out the winner.

Wrapping Up Your Invitation

It took me years to learn this lesson, but I learned it well. I would often want to get together with people so I would ask them if they wanted to get together or go out. I wouldn’t give them very many details. The idea was to see if they had the desire, then we would plan something.

Wrong! I had it all backwards. A no usually meant that I felt that I was being personally rejected. This added to the pressure of issuing the invitation. And the pressure of issuing the invitation put pressure on the person being invited.

So what did I learn? I learned that you plan the event and invite the person. Let me illustrate what I mean with the story about Lenore.

Lenore was an extremely attractive woman in my folkdance club. She had the beauty of some women in renaissance paintings. I decided to try my theory on her.

Rather than calling her and asking if she wanted to go out, I asked her if she wanted to go to the best Greek restaurant in town. Now, here’s the beauty in this. If she said yes, I already know what we are doing, so there was no pressure to plan something. If she said no, then I wouldn’t feel the personal rejection as much. I would assume that she doesn’t like Greek food.

It was all too simple, yet I had done it wrong for so long.

By the way, Lenore said yes and we went out and enjoyed Greek food. My lesson learned, I didn’t go out with her much after that. We really didn’t have that much in common, but I still thank her for being the acid test for this theory.

Kenyan Runners

For decades Kenyans have been dominant in long distance running. I remember some of the first I saw who competed in the Olympics. They ran in bare feet.

What makes them such good runners?

Perhaps they possess some superior genes that allow them to run better. But wouldn’t this same genetic material make them good at short distances?

There are certainly countries that fund their athletes better than Kenya.

The answer lies in two factors.

The first is that they run at high altitudes, which trains their bodies to use oxygen in an efficient manner. When they compete at lower altitudes, the atmosphere with a higher concentration of oxygen supplies them with a more plentiful supply of this gas needed for running. It is as if they are moving from regular gasoline to one with a higher octane.

The other factor is the terrain they train on. Often they are running up and down steep hills and mountains. Again, when they run the course on city streets, while there may be hills, few compare to the steepness they encounter in training.

In other words, their training circumstances are often much more difficult than their competition’s.

Are you going through a rough patch right now? Just like the Kenyan runners, maybe you are training for the marathon ahead. It’s just that you have to get through the tough training so that the actual race for the prize will be relatively easy.

The Unknown Insult

You often hear this on sport interviews. A player has performed brilliantly and the announcer will pay him a compliment. Often he will deflect the praise and mention the team. While this can be seen as humility, it can also be viewed differently.

A few years ago, I was talking to a pastor, Norm, who had been my client when I worked in television. He paid me a compliment, which I deflected. He paid me another one and I did the same.

He stopped me dead in my tracks by asking this question. “Do you know what you just did?” I replied that I hadn’t. “You just insulted me.”

What? All I had done was to take the spotlight off me and try to be humble, but he explained it a different way.

Norm asked me how I felt when he paid the compliment. I said that I felt really good. He told me that when I deflected it, he felt that I was telling him that his judgement was poor and it wasn’t true.

I had been doing this for years, but I asked him, “What can I say?”

His reply was, “Even if you don’t believe it is true, do you appreciate the comment?”

“Yes,” I stammered.

“Then just say, ‘Thank you, I appreciate it.’ It is your choice if you want to believe it, but you can at least acknowledge that you appreciate what I am saying. You know what? If you let people know you appreciate nice comments, they will tend to make more of them.”

I was floored. To think, all these years my shyness and lack of confidence had been preventing me from hearing more of the very words I needed to hear.

A couple of weeks later, Norm said something nice about me. My response? “Thank you, Norm. I appreciate that.”

Norm’s reply? “John, you’ve learned.” Indeed, I had.

A Memorable Christmas

She was showing off all of the things she had gotten for Christmas. Among the items were some expensive jewellery, a fur coat and a new dress. She was elated with the gifts her husband had showered on her. I was happy for her.

Then she turned to me and asked, “John, what did you get for Christmas?” I replied, “Nothing.” She thought I was joking and said, “Come on. Everybody gets something for Christmas.” I assured her, feeling a bit embarrassed, that I had received nothing. After an awkward moment, I retreated to my office. Actually, I had lied. I had received a great deal more than nothing.

On that Christmas I awoke to an empty house. I lived in Edmonton and didn’t have the funds to return to my family in Ontario. There was no tree, no decorations, no cookies, no Christmas dinner and nobody but myself. Not only that, but the night before, on Christmas Eve, I went to the barn to feed my cats, only to find one of them frozen to death. I remember sobbing when I saw the stiff, lifeless body of the kitten. Yet, it was a Christmas I remember with fondness.

It was a cold winter morning. On the coldest mornings in Alberta the sun is reflecting off the snow. I lived in a farmhouse surrounded by 300 acres. In spite of the lack of everything associated with Christmas and the misfortune of the cat the night before, it felt like Christmas. I wasn’t going to sit there alone. I decided to get into my truck and just drop in on people.

First, I went to George’s house. He and his wife were alone with their recent baby. I rang the doorbell and sang a Christmas carol. The door opened and the warmth of the home greeted me. The warmth was not only the heat, but the wonderful greeting they gave me. Being alone, they really appreciated my impromptu arrival and we sat around for a couple of hours. Originally from Québec, George’s wife served me some homemade tortière – a spicy meat pie – and all the fixings to go with it.

I left at about 2 pm. Where should I go? The Griffins! Again, I knocked on the door and sang a Christmas carol. I was immediately whisked inside and treated as if Santa himself had arrived. We spent time chatting and playing with the toys their kids had gotten. Marg sensed that I had nowhere to go for dinner, so an extra place was set at the table and I tucked into a complete Christmas feast. I walked away feeling satisfied in every way possible.

It's true, I hadn’t received any presents that Christmas, but I realized that I had received the greatest gift of all. I had received the special gift of love, which is the true message of Christmas.

After All These Years

This past June we decided to visit friends in England. They were going to have a party in a real castle. You can’t go through life thinking about missing a party in a real castle. Unfortunately, the party got cancelled, but that’s another story. While we were over there, I decided we could spend a couple of days in Belgium visiting my pen pal.

I started writing to Marie-Jeanne Vanhorenbeke from Belgium when I was 18. I was taking French in high school in Toronto. The only problem was that there was no way to practise the language. When I saw an ad in a comic book for pen pals, I decided to write away for one. I found out later that she signed up to practise her English, but when I started writing in French, she decided to simply correspond to me.

In the beginning, we wrote about the usual topics – our families, our interests, the sports we loved. As time went on, we shared the peaks and valleys of our lives.

I visited her when I was 22. Her family adopted me from the beginning. Her mother calls me her Canadian son, and for a good reason. As she states, on my first visit I had the vocabulary of a small child. Each subsequent visit for her was like seeing a child grow into a man. I now am quite fluent in French. In fact, I write her a small letter each Christmas to her in French.

When I was engaged to a girl from France, Marie-Jeanne came to Paris for a day. I marched her around like a soldier, trying to cram every site into one day, and then whisked her away to a small village for my engagement party.

I remember her friendship at this party very clearly. Paté was being served. I found out very quickly that I did not like it. I became very ill. I went upstairs to deal with the sudden violent cramps in my stomach. After many minutes staring into the toilet, I wondered if my absence would be noticed. I heard footsteps. I figured it was my fiancé coming to see what was wrong. It wasn’t. It was Marie-Jeanne.

We tend to write to each other only once a year, around Christmas, and we have been writing to each other for about 40 years. We hadn’t seen each other for 28 years.

What is wonderful about this friendship is that when Marie-Jeanne and I met at the airport, it was like we had seen each other yesterday. It was like putting on an old comfortable pair of shoes. She immediately started teasing me, as she always did, and I kept taking the bait and teased her back. We delighted in the opportunity to make the connection again and to know that miles and years don’t have to erode a relationship.

My hope is that she and her husband will visit us in Canada next year. Her daughter will be in Vancouver. I certainly have a lot of hospitality to repay and I look forward to that. But more than just showing her a good time, I look forward of once again basking in the warm sunshine that the love we have for each other provides. She is a true friend.

A Milestone

It all started on August 23. That’s the day I decided to start my blog. The goal was to try to write something every day for at least a year and see where it led me. The journey has been interesting.

Today’s entry is all about celebrating. This is the 100th article I have written and I feel like throwing a party.

In life we often forget to celebrate. Sure, we all go through some rough patches, but when the time comes to mark some occasion, we should do it in style.

Often life gets in the way. We have to do this or that and there just isn’t enough time. So what? Get out there and whoop it up anyway.

Every weekend my mother would make a cake. Sunday night was cake night. We would eat it while watching Ed Sullivan. However, there would be cake left. That cake was used to celebrate. I got a good mark in school? Have a piece of cake. I hit a home run in softball? Have a piece of cake. Whatever happened, we seemed to find some reason to heighten the joy of the moment.

So come join me in my celebration. Seriously, I know a few who read my blog, but I have no idea how many of you are out there. Why not leave a comment and join the fun?

No Is Not So Negative

It is one of the first words that babies learn. Sometimes they learn it too well. In fact, I have thought that if it were harder to say, we would have more accord in the world.

I grew up associating the word no with rejection. I’d ask somebody for something and be absolutely crushed if the answer was no.

This only got worse as a teenager. I would long to ask somebody out, but wouldn’t. I couldn’t handle the possibility of being turned down. Often I would dial the person’s number and when the last digit was entered immediately hang up

Too many a Saturday night was spent alone when I could have been out enjoying myself and the company of others.

What I am going to tell you is so simple, yet it changed the way I look at many things.

Getting a no usually does not mean that you have lost anything. All it means is that you are at the same place you were before you asked.

You have nothing to do on a Saturday night. You decide to ask somebody out. She says no. Well, you are still at the point where you started, without anything to do on a Saturday night. But you haven’t lost anything. Those hours are still they to fill.

I have applied this to many parts of my life. If I want something, I ask for it. If I get it, great. If I don’t, then I am no worse off.

I have found this bit of wisdom is often coupled with the other nugget of truth is that people are usually quite willing to help others. Go ahead. Try it. Ask people if they will help you and many will say they will before they even know what you want. Even if they do know, most will consider listening to you if you ask.

So, here goes. I am screwing up my courage.

Will somebody give me a huge sum of money so I can make my living writing?

While my dream is that somebody will say yes, I’ll still be here grinding out my next article tomorrow.

Irene

Irene was my mother-in-law. By the time she got to be ninety, she had pretty much lived her life out as far as she was concerned.

She lived in a nursing home where her daughter Joanne was the boss. She also returned home to a little cottage next to Joanne’s on most weekends. Boredom and a lack of a sense of purpose made her cranky from time to time.

We struggled to figure out what to get her for her birthday. When you get to be ninety, you pretty well have everything you need. What you don’t need, you can’t use.

We wanted something special. We finally came up with the idea of buying ninety roses, one for each year. We packed them into the car. It smelled like a funeral parlour.

The roses were delivered to the nursing home and Irene was really pleased to receive them. It is not every day you get a dozen roses, let alone ninety.

The only problem with getting ninety roses is trying to figure out what to do with them. They were everywhere around the room. There were much too many.

Then somebody suggested to Irene that she could give most of them away to the other patients, keeping only a few for herself.

So that is what she did. She walked up to people all around the nursing home giving away her roses. As she saw the smiles of the other patients, we became aware that we had bought the perfect gift. The roses were nice, fit the occasion and were appreciated, but the real gift was the joy that Irene had giving to others knowing that she was making their day just a bit brighter.

You can experience that same joy. Get out there and give whatever you can, be it small or big. If it makes somebody’s day brighter, then it is priceless.

The Elephant

When elephants are very young, they are trained by their masters with a cord around their leg to restrain and control them.

As they grow older, they become much bigger and stronger, yet they are still controlled by this thin cord around their leg. They don’t realize that they can break free at any moment. All they have to do is to have the will to do it. The reality is that they usually don’t. They still think that they can’t break free from the restraint.

People are like this, too. I remember reading of a young girl who was kidnapped for many months. In the beginning, the couple who grabbed her kept her hidden. As time went on, though, they took her along with them shopping. In order to escape, all she had to do was scream or run. She didn’t.

What kept her from doing so were threats of what might happen if she bolted. Fear kept her in captivity. Fortunately a law officer recognized her, went up to her and asked her if she was the person who had been kidnapped. In a second, the cords around her life vanished and none of the threats materialized. Her fear had been based on lies.

Aren’t we the same? Don’t we allow fear to limit our possibilities in life? We are too comfortable with who we are instead of focussing on who we can be. The fear of loss becomes greater than the expectation of what life can be. We allow ourselves to be controlled by negative thoughts, sometimes ones that go back to our childhood.

All it often takes is the realization that we really can break the cord that limits our potential. We can simply walk away and be free, that is, unless we choose to remain captive for the rest of our lives. And the choice is really ours. One is taking the safe, comfortable route; the other involves risk and doing something that we may never have done before. One can choose to soar like an eagle or merely peck away at the ground like a chicken.

The Flood

This entry isn’t too original. It is mostly a joke that I heard in church many years ago.

A great flood came one spring and the water rose so high that people were forced to get on their roofs. Like many others, one woman climbed out the upstairs window and sat on her roof. Her faith was strong and she prayed that the Lord would save her.

A boat came along and asked her if they could help. Her reply was that the Lord would save her, so she didn’t need their help.

Later on, a helicopter came by and lowered a rope and asked her to climb aboard. Again, she refused saying that the Lord would save her.

By morning, the flood rose so high that the woman was swept off her roof and she drowned.

Up in heaven she asked God why he hadn’t saved her from her death. His reply was, “I sent you a boat and a helicopter. What more did you want me to do?”

Sometimes we have difficult times in our lives. There are people all around us who are willing and able to help, but we often don’t accept or recognize what they have to offer. We try to go it alone, when all along the help we need may be offered to us. We may even pray to God more fervently than ever without knowing he is sending agents to help us. We fail to see God working through others to guide us through our time of trouble.

Gelato

Last spring we went to Italy. We spent time each day looking for the perfect gelato. If you ask some people what it is, they will reply that it is Italian ice cream. In my books, it is anything but ice cream.

First, many of the flavours are much more exotic than the strawberry, chocolate and vanilla we have. Lemon, melon, pistachio and hazelnut are among the many tastes of this treat from the gods.

The texture is different, too. Ice cream is soft and sticky. Gelato is smooth and creamy.

I could go on and on about the differences between the two, but it all boils down to this. If you give me the choice of having one or the other, it will be gelato every time.

Now, some of you may say that if you can’t have gelato, you have no problem settling for ice cream. On the surface, that sounds like a pretty wise statement.

However, do you want second best in your life? Do you want what you can enjoy when you could have what you want and enjoy it more? What if you could have the choice of having gelato every day of your life? Would you do what is necessary to have it? Have you looked at all the options of what you could do to make this happen? You could learn how to make your own. You could even consider moving to Rome. Before you settle for mere ice cream, make sure that you can’t have gelato. The answer is that you probably can if you try.

Once you have tasted gelato, do you want to go through life wishing you had it while you are having your ice cream? I don’t. I’m ready to go back to Italy and wander through the cities and towns continuing my search for the perfect gelato.