Author Archives: David Truss

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.

Sometime technology s(UX)

I used to have one remote for my TV, now I have 3. One of them is for my sound bar. When I turn the sound bar on, (on its own, it turns on automatically for the tv), in order to connect to my phone. Before I can click the input options, I need to wait 6 or 7 seconds while the sound bar scrolls ‘WELCOME’ across its small screen 3 or 4 times.

Just now I decided I want to have a song on repeat on my phone and it took me over a minute to figure out how to do this. Sure, I was given the choice to do many things with the song…

But the simple option to hit repeat was elusive on the main screen.

Yesterday I wanted to drag a song into GarageBand and it kept being added at 4 times the speed. I found out GarageBand needs the song to be a specific speed. I checked, same speed. Then I learned it had to be a specific format, so I had to duplicate the song in the new format. Now I’ve got two versions of the song in iTunes and need to delete one, but which one, they look identical in iTunes? 3 years ago this was a seamless activity that I never struggled with no matter what format I worked with.

Is it just me or is technology getting more confusing and less user-friendly. And no, my sound bar scrolling ‘WELCOME WELCOME WELCOME WELCOME’ while being fully inoperative is NOT user friendly!

I want to use my credit card at a gas station, not only must I put in my pin, I need to say how much I want to spend as a maximum. Every instant teller I go to asks me what language I want to work in… how hard would it be for the machine to know my preference after asking once? And as for autocorrect… it’s getting worse, not better.

I love my tech, but it seems to me that technology is all about adding features, and not about user experience (UX). The user is forgotten as new bells and whistles are added. Or things are so locked down that I need Face ID, a confirmation text, and coming soon, a DNA scan. Between new features and new security measures, there seems little time spent thinking about what the experience is for the end user.

So for any tech designers out there, here is a little tip, we don’t need to be greeted by inanimate objects, and if we are, allow us to actually use the object while it’s welcoming us.

Unscheduled meeting

I got a text message from my buddy Mark this morning:

I figured one of two things, either a fun opportunity or he needed some help, maybe moving some furniture or something? Either way, I responded as soon as I saw the message. I then got invited to go kayaking. And despite having a planned agenda for my day, I agreed and met him an hour later. We had a wonderful couple hours on the water.

This got me thinking about two things: First of all, I don’t see enough of my friends. Secondly, when I do see them it is always an effort to coordinate and plan everything. Besides meeting my buddy Dave weekly to walk up the Coquitlam Crunch then have coffee, I really don’t see anyone unless it is planned well in advance.

Meanwhile, I live in an amazing place with so much to see and do around us, and I almost never take advantage of my location or see my friends.

My advice, call a friend you haven’t seen in a while and connect to go do something. I thank Mark for doing that with me!

Unrealistic expectations

It has been over 2 months since I shot an arrow. No surprise that my session today went a little rough. It was going to be a total bust until I decided to halve my usual distance and start shootings at 10-ish yards rather than my usual 20 yards (18m). Then I was able to relax a bit more and focus on the finer details of my shot rather than trying to hard to shoot well at a longer distance.

I lowered my expectations of what I could do and suddenly I shot better… still not what I used to be able to do, but I could hit the 10-ring consistently enough to relax my focus on the target and pay attention to my shot process. When expectations are too high only disappointment prevails.

I realize now that I need to think of my workouts the same way. Recently, while cleaning out my garage, I spent some time looking back over old photos. These included ones from the Maccabiah Games in Israel back in ’93. I trained the hardest I’ve ever trained and was the fittest I’ve ever been.

Seeing these photos, I looked down at the small donut ring below my belly button and it got me feeling crappy. I was literally thinking over the past few days, “I’ll never look like that again!” And honestly, it was getting me down a bit.

But the archery session has helped me reframe this. I don’t need to be the fittest I’ve ever been at 54, I need to be fit for 54. Big difference. It’s not about having low expectations, no, it’s about not having unrealistic expectations. I’m not going to be 26 fit. I’m not going to shoot a great round in archery after taking more than 2 months off.

I will have fun with my archery and make myself a little better each time. I’m going to keep working out and taking care of my aging body by keeping it fit and healthy… and again, have fun doing it. I’ll set goals for myself, but I won’t set myself up for failure with unrealistic expectations.

What’s Truth

I wrote this on March 11th, 1985. I was 17. I’m digging up a lot of old writing, and while I find it a bit challenging to do so, I’ll share the poem below without editing it… I think I’d rather have it sit as an old work, not something re-worked because I’d change so much if I started editing now.

A poem by 17-year-old me:
—

What’s Truth

Everyone sees you a different way
Yet you the same from day to day.

You always worry about what they think
You feel paranoid with every blink.

You tell yourself don’t worry ’bout it
But inside you know that’s really shit.

You really worry and that’s a fact
About what they say behind your back.

People say things when not at face
You do the same with them in your place.

So why can’t people just be true
And tell everything right to you.

This separates man, from other life
The ability for words to cut like a knife.

Man is inable to be perfect
Because of feelings of love and respect.

These protect us from each other’s fire
So as not to hurt, we all become liars.

“Do you like my hat?”
“Yes I like it a lot.”
[It should be ripped to shreds and left to rot.]

What purpose was man put on this earth
What are his feelings really… really worth?

He cannot live in full honesty
He won’t care about this humble plea.

You know as you read that this is true
But you ask yourself, “What can I do?”

And it’s at this point that this dream
Starts falling apart at the seams. ~David

David: Did you like it?
Reader: Yeah, it’s kind a neat.
David: The truth…
Reader: …It’s good.
David: thanks?

Pain tolerance

I’ve always been told I have a high pain tolerance. It stems from years of chronic back pain. Today my back aches. I say ‘aches’ because I break my discomfort into two levels: ache means it’s uncomfortable, and dull; pain means something more sharp and debilitating. Pain means the noise level of the discomfort hinders my thought processes, while I can get numb to the awareness of an ache, even if it is ever-present.

Years ago I was in a moped accident. I was taking a corner at about 55km and hit some gravel. My moped slipped from underneath me and I body surfed across gravel for about 25 to 30 feet, (yes, I’m Canadian and measure speed in km’s and short distances in feet). I’m glad it was an outside curb sending me into the gravel rather than an inside curb launching me into oncoming traffic, but it still sucked.

I needed a bunch of stitches on one knee and a couple more on the other elbow. I also spent over 2 hours having tiny pebbles being removed from my elbows and knees, which took the brunt of my skid. About one and a half hours into this process the head nurse said to me, “You are doing great! We get guys in here twice the size of you that are crying like babies by now.”

My response: “Oh, don’t be mistaken, this %#^*ing hurts!”

And that was the moment that I realized that just like I have my ache/pain scale there are two kinds of pain tolerance, another 2-pronged scale of pain tolerance: There is pain tolerance whereby some people just don’t feel pain like others, versus pain tolerance whereby the person feels pain but is not controlled by the pain despite it hurting a lot/as much as others would feel it. I think this latter variety is where my pain tolerance sits.

Waking up with a back ache isn’t fun. Having to end a conversation with a friend because I can’t sit anymore isn’t fun. Spending time stretching in the morning just so that I can function normally for the rest of the day isn’t fun. But the alternative is pain, and pain really, really isn’t fun… no matter how good my tolerance is.