Author Archives: David Truss

Keeping with it

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Habit versus motivation: habits win.

I am lazing around on holiday. There’s nothing outwardly wrong with that, if only I could feel better about it. Yesterday my wife and I did a walk up a big hill in 33° weather (91° for my Fahrenheit friends). It was hard, but rewarding. I was impressed with my wife who had us jogging down the hill, when I would have chosen to walk.

Today it feels hotter, but I procrastinated all morning and now I still haven’t worked out yet and it’s mid afternoon. I have no idea what I’m going to do for a workout, but I know I’m going to work out… it’s just that my motivation in this heat is very low. Our tent is a steam room, too hot to stay in, and I’m sticking to the chair, sweaty, as I write this in the shade.

I have no problem working out regularly at home, it’s a habit. I wake up, start my morning routine, and before going to work I’ve worked out, meditated, and written my blog post. Meanwhile I’ve been here 3 nights, missed one workout, and didn’t blog or meditate until after 9pm 2-out-of-3 nights so far.

It’s simple: Habits are easy, motivation is hard.

I’ll need to figure out some new routines because I’m spending a good part of my holiday thinking about and avoiding things I usually get done before 7am. As for right now, I’m going to do a meditation and push myself to complete a workout despite the heat. I want it to hurt today, to motivate me to not wait until this time tomorrow. In the world of motivation I’ve learned that I prefer the stick to the carrot… the avoidance of pain rather than the promise of reward.

With good habits, I can just avoid the need for motivation altogether.

Extreme beliefs

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I went down a rabbit hole on Twitter yesterday. It started with me watching a video related to the attempted assassination of Donald Trump. The video following this was a fundamentalist Christian talking about how this assassination attempt was pre-ordained, and this was the start of the End Times. The videos didn’t stray from this theme afterwards.

The power of religious fundamentalism never ceases to amaze me. People hoping for the rapture, or for an eternity in the afterlife, willing to sacrifice living life now for a future beyond this life. People prepared to sacrifice their life in an attempt to take another life in the name of God. People draining their bank accounts to support a church. People advocating for terrorism and yet believing they will be set free by their faith.

Religious beliefs that teach us to love, and to share, and to support their communities as well as strangers… these are religions that serve those that need religion in their lives. Extreme religious beliefs that divide, segregate, and exclude others… these are religions we must fight.

We cannot turn the other cheek when we are facing groups that undermine our safety and security. We can’t ignore people who will disrupt and undermine our lives, our liberties, and our freedom. Extreme beliefs are dangerous and they need to be dealt with as threats, as dangerous, and not just something we deal with like we would any other issue… because those acting on their extreme beliefs aren’t acting in good faith.

((What an ironic sentence to end on.))

Restless relaxation

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I’m relaxing in a hammock, in the shade, at a campground, listening to a playlist titled ‘Writing 2’, and I’m restless. I dealt with a work issue earlier. Nothing challenging, just needed to give some quick guidance around an issue and all is well. Still, that put my head in a bit of ‘work mode’ and now I don’t feel like I’m relaxing, but rather that I’m being unproductive.

Stupid… I know.

But that’s where I go sometimes. I get into a mode where relaxing feels like ‘not doing anything useful’. And so, music on, blogging app open, and I can suddenly feel productive. I’m writing. The good news is that this actually feels relaxing. I’m still in the hammock, I’m comfortable, and my impulse to be productive will be a little more subdued after I hit the Publish button.

I think it’s time to head to the lake now, and switch to my audiobook. Again, a chance to feel like I’m doing something… useful. Because I don’t know how to relax doing nothing.

You’ve made good time

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It wasn’t a a question, but rather a statement, “You’ve made good time.”

We were on our way to holiday in Kelowna and our youngest daughter was spying on us. Well, not really spying, that suggests something clandestine and this was fully consensual. We share our locations with each other on our phones.

I think my daughter uses it on my wife and I more routinely than we do on her, and that’s perfectly ok with me. I tend to use it when I’m headed to bed and she’s not home yet, and sometimes when I’m the first one home from work and wondering where everyone else is?

I’ll sometime get texts from my daughter that say, “You’re still at work?”, and I know that again is more of a statement than a question… she checked my location before asking. Then the conversation moves to dinner plans or evening plans, and maybe even a request for a drive so that she doesn’t have to take her car somewhere that she may have drinks. Again this is perfectly fine with me.

I can see how this tool can be weaponized by a controlling parent or spouse, but in the hands of mutually respectful people it is really handy. It allows us to connect and feel connected, even when we are headed on holidays. And it changes the conversation from ‘Where are you?’ to the follow up questions that matter more.

Novel worlds

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I enjoy reading novels when summer comes along. I seek out books that take me to different worlds and different realms. I seek magic and the majestic. I don’t really enjoy historical fiction. I want dystopian tribulations, lost kingdoms, and kingdoms lost. Give me magical orbs, forbidden powers, fragile Gods, and alien encounters.

Set me free in a novel world, where I can escape on the pages, written or read, paper or digital, visual or auditory. Places I can visit in my mind; places that could never exist save for an author’s imagination.

Summer is a time to escape to places only the mind can go… thanks to a good book.

Music and time

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There are songs that send me back in time. I hear them and I’m suddenly in another era.

‘Heart of Glass’ by Blondie or Bob Marley’s ‘I Shot the Sherif’ takes me back to 7-9 years old.

Led Zeppelin’s ‘All of my Love’ sets me back into my friends house, it was 1979, the album In Through the Out Door came out and my friend called me to say “Get over here and listen to this.” Then he played ‘All of my Love’ over and over while playing and perfecting the piano part.

‘You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)’ by Dead or Alive makes me think of a dance floor and New Order’s ‘Blue Monday’ sends me back to a university ski trip that I’d be better off not remembering… end yet I love the flashback I get.

Speaking of skiing, I got to know my wife on trips up to Whistler where she shared a group rental chalet. I remember our weekend drives to the chalet every time I hear R.E.M.’s ‘Night Swimming’.

Music is a powerful memory builder, and some songs take me back in time. Do they do that for you?

Fishing and time

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There is a special type of time distortion that happens when I go fishing. First of all, it’s not something that can be rushed. You’ve probably never heard the phrase, “Hurry up and fish.” Fishing takes patience, and time goes slowly.

Time also shifts a different way for me when fishing. I can get nostalgic about past fishing experiences, and feel like a kid again. I can get enveloped into a different world where time goes backwards and I feel young again.

And then there is the simple appreciation of the time spent fishing, whether in solitude or with a friend. Fishing time doesn’t need to be filled with conversation. There is comfortableness in silence. There is the sound of casting and reeling which symbolizes the passage of time, like a ticking clock, it can be heard again and again. Until the pattern is interrupted by catching a fish… speeding up time and bringing a new sense of urgency to the situation.

And here’s the really wonderful thing about fishing: even if I don’t catch anything, it was still time well spent.

Flyover BC

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I’ve recently had the opportunity to fly at low altitude over the peaks and high plateaus of the Chilcotin Mountains of BC. It’s one thing to know that we live on the edge of wilderness, and it’s another to see it from the air.

We live in an amazing province in a vast and vacant country… and it’s beautiful!

It shouldn’t be this hard

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I get really frustrated when things don’t work like they should. I’m putting in medical claims into my online insurance claim form and the form won’t let me upload the requested evidence of receipts. Is my file too big? No. How do I know? Because it’s my second time through and I’ve made the file smaller this time.

I’ve refreshed the page and restarted my claim from scratch. I’ve made the file into a different format… and I’m watching the little spin-wheel loading symbol go around and around and around. I’m now going to start again on a different browser.

It amazes me how in such a technologically advanced age we run into issues like this so often. I’ve had people tell me they wanted to leave me a comment on my blog but they couldn’t figure out a way to sign in. But if I don’t have a sign in either by email, Facebook, or WordPress then I’m inviting spam messages. It shouldn’t be a process that doesn’t work, people sign in to things all the time.

I’m now on a second web browser and the file still is t uploading. I’m going to give up and try again later. Maybe restart my computer first. Maybe reduce the file size some more. Basically I’m going to waste a whole bunch of time doing something that should already have been over 30 minutes ago.

It really shouldn’t be this hard. I feel for elderly people who run into issues like this, then spend 45 minutes on hold waiting to ask for help, then getting flustered even more trying to follow instructions over the phone. Maybe AI will help, eventually, but I see things getting more frustrating rather than better in the short term. It all boils down to bad user experience and ultimately bad customer service.

(And as a final thought, I was trying to cut/paste a few words in the last sentence on my blogging app and my highlight feature froze on the wrong words… I had to save the draft to be able to do anything else. A small inconvenience but still, one of those little things that should just work!)

Open house

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This weekend my oldest daughter and four of her friends came to stay with us from Vancouver Island. It was a full house. This reminded me of my childhood house in Toronto.

We always had people over. I can remember, on several occasions, bringing an entire waterpolo team to stay at our place. Sleeping bags laid out side-by-side covered most most of the basement floor space. My mom would buy 3 or 4 dozen buns, cold cut meats, and drinking boxes for everyone.

After I left for university, I lost my bedroom to my youngest sister. So summers at home meant sleeping in the basement. By then we had two beds down there and often my sister’s boyfriend would sleep down there in the other bed. There were nights I’d come home after midnight and attempt to go in one bed and someone, one of my sister’s friends, would be in the bed. Then I’d see someone in the other bed, and head up to sleep on the couch. I’d leave the next morning early, not even knowing who used the beds the night before? This seemed normal. We took in house guests like strays… giving them shelter, and feeding them.

Before that, when I was still in elementary and junior high school, I’d come home some days and my friends were already over eating cookies and milk or watching tv in our basement. They would get ‘home’ before me, and make themselves at home. In fact, my mom would leave the front door unlocked and friends wouldn’t even knock. They knew it was an open house, and they would come in and declare their presence, saying ‘hi’ to my mom in the kitchen, our shouting towards the stairs that they were visiting, to let my mom know they were there. Sometimes my mom would just yell back to them to help themselves to a snack, not even coming down the stairs to greet them.

Our house was open, our fridge was open, even the dinner table was open. We were a family of 5 then 6 after my 3rd sister was born when I was 14, but my mom routinely cooked for more… not knowing if one or two of our friends were staying for dinner. We were not wealthy and this was definitely a strain on my parents, but as kids we didn’t have a clue about this, and neither did my or my sister’s friends.

We just knew that the doors were open and our friends are always welcome. While my wife and I certainly weren’t as open as that, it’s also a different time. Still, with our girls now both in their 20’s, they both know our house is their house, and friends are always welcome. I really like that.