Monthly Archives: July 2022

Roughing it

Roughing it means something totally different as you get older. I used to camp on the ground, in a tent. Then we started bringing an inflatable bed. Now we are renting a trailer that will be dropped off at the campsite for us… this is the third time we are doing this, and it’s as rough as we might get for a while.

I’ve been camping, years ago, where we had to carry everything in and out, and pump water through a filter in streams and add a couple drops of iodine to purify it so we can drink it. Then with kids we used to bring a foldable kitchen sink with us to make meal prep easier in drive-in campsites. Now we don’t camp anywhere that doesn’t have taps nearby and washrooms with showers.

Maybe some day I’ll do a big trip where I really rough it again, but for now, roughing it includes a fair bit of luxury, and I’m happy to enjoy the comforts… I’m still going to a campground and not a hotel so in my books, I’m still roughing it.

Filling time

Ever find yourself filling time rather than spending it? You have a task to do and you have two hours to do it in, and you get it done in 2 hours. If you had 1.5 hours, that’s how long it would have taken… and if you had 2.5 hours you might get it done in just under 3. While that’s a bit of an exaggeration, I think it makes the point.

We recently hired a company to help us with tidying and organizing our garage and basement storage. We floundered over a couple weeks figuring out what to throw away and how to organize things. Then when we were getting help that was costing us more the longer it took, we transformed our garage. It went from a dumping ground that got out of hand when we had to throw everything in there for our main floor renovation, to a fully useable space with organized shelves and clear, labelled bins. We didn’t even need to add more shelving than what was already there.

If we had to keep going on our own without help, I think that we would still be rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic – moving things around in a disorganized garage that still looked like a disaster.

That’s an example where outside help got us through what needed to be done, but some of this filling time issue is more personal. For example, I haven’t been getting my morning routine done every morning. Sometimes I get to my workout later in the day. When I’m not on summer break, I wake up at 5:15, I write, meditate, and work out and I’m usually in the shower by 7am or shortly thereafter. But now my writing could take an hour and I could head to the basement for a workout that’s usually 20 minutes cardio and 20-25 minutes of weights and stretching, and turn it into well over an hour. However, I’m not doing more, I’m just procrastinating and stretching the time. I’m distracted by my phone. I’m taking very long breaks between sets. I’m doing a 10 min cooldown on a 20 min ride on my stationary bike.

Sometimes I just stretch the time I spend on things just because the time is available. I’m not spending time doing things, I’m filling the time available. While it’s nice to have the time to be able to do this, it does feel like I’m just wasting time… and time is a limited resource. The question is, if I didn’t just use my ’empty’ time up, what would I spend it on?

A Dawn Remembered

I wrote this in my late teens, some time before summer, 1986, when I was still in high school.

___

A Dawn Remembered

Early morning I did wake
To gaze across a chilly lake
I then looked to the sky
That dropped a little lonely flake

The cold glistened in my eye
Though the furnace was nearby
My body felt what it saw
It made me shiver where I lie

The morning air, so crisp and raw
In its virginity was not a flaw
So pure and simple the day did start
That for a moment I stood in awe

This admiration is an art
That must come from your heart
This early morning I did wake
To watch this beauty fall apart.

Reducing Complaints

I heard this on the Daily Jay, with Jay Shetty, on the Calm app this morning:

“Complaining is like chewing the same bite of food long after it has lost its taste. You’re just expending energy, for no positive purpose.”

Have you ever noticed that complaints live in your head far longer than you spend sharing them?

There is the initial thought that brews in your mind, percolating and flooding your mind with frustration. Then the complaint pours out of you, and you want to share every detail, fill other people’s cup with your bitter tasting brew. Then it chills down in your brain, but not immediately, it takes a while for the steam to be released, and your thoughts remain on your cup full of objection and protest.

“I can’t believe what she said.”

“The nerve of him thinking he could get away with doing that.”

“The worst service I’ve ever dealt with.”

The moment is gone, but the complaint lingers. With an opportunity to share it again later, the full emotional turmoil reruns.

“That was so upsetting!”

It was upsetting, or it is upsetting? Did it happen again? The verbal complaint makes it feels so.

What is it that the person who upset you the most deserves? Do they deserve your future attention, energy, and time complaining? Do you deserve to relive and retell, and expend time and energy on them?

If you’ve truly been wronged, do something about it and feel good about standing up for yourself. But if you’ve been annoyed and the moment is gone, let it be gone, because ‘I could have…’ or ‘I should have…’ didn’t happen, and complaints are nothing but wasted energy brewing in your mind, and also in the minds of those you complain to. And neither you nor they need to spend time sipping that bitter brew.

We the people

I took this photo in New York 5 years ago. I put it in a filter app I was playing with at the time to get this effect.

This came up as a Facebook memory yesterday and it got me thinking about how in 1787, when the “We the people” preamble to the constitution of the USA was written, there were people who were not considered people: Native Americans and black slaves. And only white men, not women, could vote.

That was 235 years ago.

“We the People
Means Everyone”

It’s a simple statement. It should go without saying, yet it needs to be said.

I wrote this in Faith in Humanity 5 years ago, “It is not our beliefs, but rather our actions upon those beliefs that define who we are. We can have faith in humanity… only by having the conviction to practice what it truly means to be human.”

Acceptance is such a low bar. It is one we should have leaped over years ago. I have faith in humanity, I believe that we can get there… but I also think it will be a bumpy ride.

Everyone deserves to feel safe, free, and seen. Everyone.

My drum

A few weeks ago, Stephanie, our district’s principal of Indigenous Education invited another principal and I (we all work in the same building) to build our own drums. She shared a lot of knowledge about building them as we made them. One tidbit of information was that now that I have the drum, it’s expected that if I’m asked to play it, then I would accept the invitation.

Another point was that to be respectful, I shouldn’t paint it in an indigenous style. If I want this, then I should ask or pay someone with heritage and background in the style to do it for me. I wanted to paint it myself and today I decided what I wanted.

I’m working with my uncle, Joe Truss, on a series of videos on the foundations of geometry and the structure of the universe, and this morning we talked about the significance of the cube octahedron.

One of the unique properties of a cube octahedron is that the edge length is also the radial length. If you zoom in on the image of my drum and you’ll see the yellow lines which are the radial lines coming from the center and going to each of the 12 vertices.



I decided on a Yin and Yang sign in the center, and drew the connective balls on the vertices different sizes to indicate depth. I used colour to do this as well with lighter colours at the back. If I did this again, rather than colouring the triangular faces each a different colour, I might have coloured the intercepting hexagons a different colour:

That said, I’m happy with the final result, and since I was working with Sharpie pens, I’m thrilled to have completed this without mis-colouring a line or slipping off of my ruler.

And besides the drawing, the drum sounds pretty good too!

A shoulder to cry on

This quote is worth sharing. It comes from one of the toughest guys in the mixed martial arts arena right now, Paddy Pimblett:

“There’s a stigma in the world that men can’t talk. Listen, if you are a man and you’ve got weight on your shoulders, and you think the only way you can solve this is by killing yourself, please speak to someone, speak to anyone…

I know I’d rather my mate cry on my shoulder, than go to his funeral next week.

So please, let’s get rid of this stigma, and men start talking.”

My thoughts on suicide are not something I share often, but for me there are two major losses: The obvious one is the death of the person who takes their own life. The second is the loss of living for those left behind… no one survives a suicide, because a small part of those left behind also dies. Guilt, blame, anger, and sadness do not fade easily, and while loved ones survive losing someone to suicide, a part of them dies with the person. In this way, I see suicide as very selfish. The person doesn’t just kill themselves, they kill a small part of everyone they leave behind.

It seems so senseless, and it is preventable. The challenge is that prevention doesn’t always start with those who will be left behind, it often needs to start with the person contemplating suicide reaching out.

I don’t pretend I have answers, and I don’t pretend to know what I’d say to make things better. But I know that talking to someone helps and I for one am willing to listen. Even if all this leads to is talking to someone else that has the knowledge and training to help…

I know I’d rather my mate cry on my shoulder, than go to his funeral next week.

The sound of silence

The sound of silence is a feeling, a stillness, rather than just a quiet. I have tinnitus and so I hear a tone, even when there are no other sounds. I’m in my living room and can hear the fridge. I hear a distant lawnmower, and the occasional car going by. But the house is quiet.

I remember a trip with my dad to southern Nevada, we split apart in a wooded area, it was close to noon and very hot. There was no wind and no sound, too hot even for bugs I guess. That was a real silence. I’ve heard that a few times at night in winter as well. Snow seems to absorb sound. I can remember going for a walk once in the snow and pausing after realizing my footsteps were the only sound being made. I stopped and heard a deafening silence, a void of any noise, and again it was a feeling more than just a lack of sound.

In our busy lives we sometimes forget to be still, to be quiet, to let silence happen. People leave the TV on for company, listen to music, even whistle a tune. I listen to books or podcasts. We fill the void of silence rather than let it envelope us. But sometimes, sometimes the opportunity for silence should be sought after, seized, for the sake of just feeling silence. Not just hearing it, feeling it. It’s not easy to find, my ear tones on, the fridge hums, a car goes by… but when I find it, my body knows.

The sound of silence is a feeling, not a sound.

Soap on a rope

In grade 13, I had an amazing English teacher, Mrs. Elle (Not her real name). She actually taught me to enjoy reading. She made me interested in writing. She brought life to English class. Mrs. Elle was one of my absolute favourite teachers.

Ms. Elle was a full figured woman and she was always dressed impeccably. Dress slacks and long sleeved sweaters or blouses that made her look like she was going to a fancy restaurant right after school. For jewelry, she always wore large earrings and a large necklace. A typical outfit would be dress pants, and a single colour knitted sweater, with a feature necklace that was rather large. One of these necklaces was a shell on a rope.

I sat next to Christine, one of my good friend’s girlfriends, and she often commented on how nice Mrs. Elle dressed. I walked in to class one day when Ms. Elle was wearing the shell on a rope and commented to Christine, “Oh, I see Ms. Elle is wearing her ‘Soap on a Rope’ today. This was actually a thing people owned back when I was a kid. I’m not sure how functional it was, but it certainly wasn’t something anyone would wear out as jewelry. Christine started to laugh and that started me laughing, and then we couldn’t stop.

Mrs. Elle quieted us down and then we both started laughing again. Christine stopped before me, and then without malice Mrs. Elle said to me, “You look like you are enjoying yourself David, would you like to share what’s so funny with the rest of the class?

I lost it. I started to shake my head ‘no’ and I laughed uncontrollably. The idea of saying this out loud horrified me, and the nervousness of the situation was spent in full laughter. Mrs. Elle looked at me and said, “Why don’t you go get a drink of water.” As giggles went through the class.

We were in a portable so I went outside laughing. I went to get a drink in the nearest hallway with a fountain and I was still laughing. Then when I calmed down I went back to the portable and sat on the top step by the door to the class and waited about 3 or 4 minutes to compose myself. I took a deep breath, exhaled, opened the door and headed to my seat. Mrs. Elle looked at me and said, “Better now?” and I lost it again. Full, uncontrollable laughter with other students starting to laugh as well, which just magnified my lack of control. Mrs. Elle, just looked at me and said, “Why don’t we try again tomorrow?” I grabbed my books and left the class.

That was the second last class of the day. After my last class, I rushed to the portable because I knew Mrs. Elle taught another class right after ours, and I wanted to catch her before she left. I waited until I thought all the kids were gone and then went into her class. I waited a moment at the door as the last couple students left the portable, then I approached Mrs. Elle. I apologized and she took it in full stride. She said, “I could tell you wanted to stop but you just couldn’t” I apologized again, and then she asked, “So, what was so funny?”

If I wasn’t expecting this I would I lost it again, but I knew this question was coming. I told her that what I said was very rude, that I shouldn’t have said it in class, and it wasn’t appropriate to share. She gave me a smile and I could tell she wanted to ask again, but she didn’t, instead she took a few minutes to share what they did in class, and let me know what I needed to get done for the next day.

There are so many ways that this could have gone very wrong. Mrs. Elle had every right to be upset at me disrupting her class not once, but twice. She could easily have disciplined me for it. She didn’t have to let me out of class for the day. She didn’t have to take time at the end of her day to catch me up. She handled this so well, and while I felt like I could have lost a lot of respect, she showed me the utmost respect and let this just slip by. But I won’t lie to you… I almost lost it again the next time she wore that shell on a rope, and Christine had to move to another seat away from me before we both started laughing again.

Moments in the day

Do you ever go through a day where every moment seems like you are getting ready for another moment?

You aren’t doing a morning workout, you are starting your day off with exercise. You aren’t working, you are checking things off your ‘To Do’ list so that you can get to the next item. You aren’t enjoying a meal, you are eating on the go because it’s lunch time and you know that you need to eat.

Take a moment… breath deeply… more than once… be still.

Now plan a moment in your day that is about that moment and that moment only:

A long hug.

A walk outside.

A phone call with a loved one, or a good friend.

A delicious snack.

A favourite song played just a little too loud with headphones.

A moment to breathe, to meditate, to fully appreciate your surroundings.

Take a moment, rather than just letting moment after moment slip away.