Tag Archives: memories

Attend and amplify

One of the guided mediations that I listen to is Jay Shetty. This morning the topic was ‘Making Memories’. His message: Be present and attend to the experience, amplify your awareness of what you are feeling in the moment, and you’ll have better access to those memories. They will be richer and more powerful, if you attend and amplify.

One of the downsides to this is that traumatic and trying times also tend to heighten our attention and be amplified. That’s why they get played back in our minds so vividly. Then there is the playback that never happened, the dealing with a crappy situation over and over in your mind, wishing you did something differently. Sometimes that playback feels almost as real, and just as frustrating.

Those are the moments I most attempt to control. I work on seeing them in the distance, and in black & white. I try to make them grainy still photos and forgettable. Too many people that don’t deserve my thoughts and attention can take both because dealing with them is a ‘rich’ experience in my mind. Becoming aware if this is key. Recognizing that they are not worth my time and energy is the trigger to un-amplify. Then I have more time to appreciate all the positive things that I should attend to and amplify.

Crossing the street for you

Going back 25 years ago, I was in teacher’s college and did almost every project with two friends I met in the program, Andrew and JP. I was literally sandwiched between them sitting at 5’9 when both of the are well over 6’… and JP was the presentation opener, with a wicked sense of humour, while Andrew was the closer with intelligent and relevant ties to the curriculum and reading, all of which he had always done. So, once again I was stuck (comfortably) in the middle.

One day we were having lunch and planning an upcoming presentation when JP said, out of the blue, “Dave, I’d cross the street for you.”

“What?”

“Some people you see walking on the opposite side of the street, and you wave at them as they go by. And some people you take the time to cross the street and greet them. I’d cross the street for you.”

That’s a fond memory about friendship that I thought of this morning. There are probably a lot of quotes like the following but I’m on an airplane without wifi so I’ll take liberty to word a common idea and try to put my own twist on it:

It’s easy to be a good friend when times are easy, it’s a true friendship when times are hard and yet helping your friend out is not hard.

That’s the measure. It’s not about it being hard for you… if the friend is going through hard times you aren’t holding up a measuring stick to see how hard it is to help. There is a willingness to go to hard places without quantifying the effort… the friend is worth it.

You aren’t just crossing the street for them, you are going back the other way just to be with them.

In the neighbourhood

Had a buddy drop by today while on a bicycle ride. It was wonderful to get an unexpected visit. An unscheduled visit just isn’t something that happens anymore.

I grew up in a house where the front door was almost never locked. There were days that I would come home from school and a friend would be waiting in the basement for me. They’d open the door and announce that they were there to visit me. My mom wouldn’t even come down the stairs, she’d just tell them I’m not home yet and to go to the basement. A couple of them would even help themselves to milk and cookies before going down the stairs. My mom wouldn’t think twice of feeding them dinner as well. For years we thought my mom’s favourite part of the chicken was the wings, but she just always took them to make sure we had enough food for our unexpected guests. ❤️

I had an older cousin who would drop by unexpectedly and see what’s for dinner. If she didn’t like what she saw, she just left. Other times she’d call and tell my mom, “Don’t cook, I’m making dinner tonight.” That meant that we were having Kentucky Fried Chicken. We loved her visits whether she was bringing food or sitting with us to have what we were having.

I miss the days of unexpected visits, of people dropping by because ‘I was in the neighbourhood’. There was the spontaneity of hanging out and/or breaking bread when it wasn’t at all part of the day’s plan. Even today, my buddy texted before knocking on the door… back in the day there was no opportunity to call if you were in the neighbourhood unless you made an effort to find a payphone. Today, we’d know days in advance before one of our kids brought a friend over just for a visit, much less a meal. And almost nothing is planned on the same day.

Nowadays if there’s an unexpected knock on the door your mind immediately goes to either a package delivery or someone soliciting something. I miss the delight of opening our front door and having a friend there without a plan being made well in advance. Today, I was treated with that again, and it was wonderful.

Something really special

I sometimes forget how lucky I was at the start of my teaching career. I worked with some amazing leaders and educators, and we created very special learning experiences for our students. When I meet former students from those teaching years, they often share a few different comments such as:

  • Middle school was my favourite time in school.
  • You guys made school so much fun.
  • You taught us life skills I still think about.
  • We could tell you all loved teaching and loved working together.
  • It was such a special school!

Today my wife and I (we both taught at the school back then) met up with a former student visiting from Ottawa. She had invited friends and former teachers to meet at a local park. This student is pregnant with her first child and she talked about wanting to find a future school for her newborn that was as special as Como Lake Middle was to her.

She said, ‘For years I thought every middle school was as fantastic as our school’, and that it was comments on our Facebook pages about how special our experience was (from other former students) that made her realize, ‘Wait, that isn’t normal for every middle school?’ She said she thought that’s just what middle school was before talking to her husband and others that didn’t have such an amazing experience.

She brought up a specific lesson I’d shared in a leadership class, and like others she mentioned how much fun the teachers had together. She brought up an experience in PE class where the Vice Principal highlighted her effort in PE, even though she was, as she described it, ‘in the middle of the pack athletically’. And she mentioned a teacher visiting her class on the first day and teasing her teacher in such a fun way that everyone had a good laugh (including her teacher being teased).

I need to spend more time reflecting, fondly reminiscing, and appreciating those years, and the connections to students from those years. They really were something special.

14 years ago

I shared this on my Pair-a-Dimes blog, May 13th, 2009:

— — — —

Sometimes you can’t just take baby steps, and you’ve got to commit fully to experience something…

I’m leaving my job, my home, and my country.

I have just accepted a Principal’s position in Dalian China for September. My wife will be teaching at the school and my daughters will be attending it. We weren’t actually looking for different jobs, they found us several years after my wife and I had applied to a number of International Schools for teaching positions. A path opened up before us… it wasn’t the planned path, but it was certainly worth investigating.

I can’t describe the turmoil my wife and I went through deciding whether or not we should uproot our family, and leave great jobs, friends and colleagues that we care about. Then finally we asked ourselves a simple question, “If we don’t do this, will we regret it later?” The answer was ‘Yes’.

And now that the decision is made, I am so excited about the new adventure!

— — — —

My close friends, my principal, and my assistant superintendent were told about my plan before publishing this, but I know it was an unusual way to share such information back then. Nowadays people expect to hear about things like this on Facebook or on other social media platforms, but that was far from the norm in 2009.

I remember an acquaintance saying to me at a meeting a week later, “So I had to read your blog to know you were taking off on us.” This perturbed me a bit because first of all we didn’t have the relationship where I’d be ‘informing’ him of this news in the first place, and secondly, I was sure he never read my blog and it was either shared with him or he just heard about it.

That was a different time. Looking back, and reading the comments I realize that I had amazing connections from my district, the province, and the rest of Canada, the US, South America, Australia, New Zealand, and China commenting. But I had many people in my district that thought it was completely weird that I’d share something like this on my blog. Meanwhile outside of a small but amazing group of local friends, it was my blogging and tweeting community that was genuinely excited for me.

They also stuck with me, reading and commenting on my blog and sharing in my China adventures.

I often say that I live my life without regrets, but if I had just one it would be that I wish I had travelled more when I was younger. This China trip opened up a world of experiences and holidays that I never would have had if my wife and I hadn’t realized how much we would regret not taking this trip.

My oldest daughter just finished an 8-month assistant teaching job in France and is currently holidaying in Greece, having just left Croatia, and is having exactly the kind of experience I wish I had at her age.

There’s a saying, that says, “No matter where you go there you are.” And I totally understand this sentiment… you can’t run away from yourself. But international travel creates contexts, experiences, and exposure to cultural differences that opens up your eyes and expose you to opportunities to grow in a way that’s hard to do ‘at home’.

We couldn’t have had the opportunities we did as a family had we not taken the plunge and moved to China… I would do it all over again if I had a chance!

My life before Google

I shared this in a post a few years ago:

I grew up in a pre-Google era, but I had something better… I had my dad. It seemed that no matter what question I may ask, my dad had, and still has, a comprehensive answer. My only hesitation to ask him a question was that I needed to be sure I was interested enough to get his extensive and detailed answer.

He didn’t just have verbal answers, he had books, thousands of books, and files, and files, and still more files. In Grade 11 I had to do a project on tidal power, and so I asked dad if he had any information for me. He did, and after moving some file boxes around he found it. No easy task when there were layers of boxes to reorganize… and not a box, or a file was labelled!!!

The tidal energy file was 2-3 centimetres thick and I blew away my class and teacher with the research I shared. In a pre-Google era it would have taken 15-20 hours searching library bookshelves and microfiche to collect research, newspaper clippings, and magazine articles that I had at my fingertips.

This was the life most people lived before Google:

I always had the information I wanted, I just had to ask my dad.

Nuggets of happiness

My dad passed away last week. Today we did the paperwork at the crematorium, and we’ll do a family gathering in the fall. He had a stroke while I was visiting over the March break and he never left the hospital after that.

While at the hospital, my youngest sister was staying with dad late one night and she was feeling hungry. She said to him, “I’m heading down to Tim Hortons, do you want anything?”

My dad responded, “No thanks, are you going to get some nuggets of happiness?”

Puzzled, my sister asked, “Do you mean Timbits?

Dad smiled and nodded ‘Yes’.

Nuggets of happiness. This is a great metaphor for coping with my father’s death. There are a lot of emotions, and a lot to deal with. There is great sadness. But then there are also those moments of fond, joyful, and humorous times that I’ll enjoy remembering. Little nuggets to love. Little nuggets that remind me he is still with me as long as I choose to remember.

I don’t think I’ll ever eat a Timbit again without remembering my dad.

And while there are many other emotions right now, I know the memories I cherish, the memories I will share with my mother, my siblings, my wife, my kids, and even grandkids in the future, will bring me joy and happiness.

Tattoo number two

It took me over 15 years from the first time I thought about it to finally getting my second tattoo. About 16 or 17 years ago I jammed my ring finger playing basketball and I had issues getting my ring on and off. But when I tried a wider ring I couldn’t close the gap between my ring and pinky fingers and that drove me crazy. So I didn’t wear a ring.

When my wife surprised me for my 40th birthday with a trip to Vegas, I decided one night that I was going to get a ring tattoo. It was a 3am decision and we couldn’t find a place that was open. I tried again one late night in Vancouver, years later. No luck. I was going to go again when covid hit, and that delayed things.

On our recent trip to Barcelona my wife and daughters got tattoos and I had one picked out, but we arrived at the tattoo parlour 40 minutes before closing and they didn’t have time for me after my family got theirs…

It seemed like I was never going to get this tattoo!

Then this past March break I booked an appointment with my friend’s daughter who is a tattoo artist… and I had to cancel when I ended up staying in Toronto longer than originally expected. And now, finally, I got it done! 15+ years in the planning and here it is:

The original rough sketch had two lines going completely around my finger but I didn’t like the way it broke up the first triangle so I left it out at the last minute, knowing it could be added if I didn’t like it as-is. However I really do like it and I’m glad I left that line out. Symbolically, the front triangle is for my wife and the two behind are for my daughters.

I know finger tattoos tend to fade, especially on the palm side, but I wanted the full circle and I’ll let it fade over time naturally. Maybe I’ll get it touched up when I get my 3rd tattoo… but at this rate that could be a decade or two away! 😜

Parting is such sweet sorrow

It’s my last night in Toronto. While I’ll still talk to my parents regularly, and have a WhatsApp chat with my sisters that we use frequently, I find it hard to say goodbye.

It makes me wish I spent more time with my daughters too.

Looking back, I think there are many opportunities to make more of the time we have with family richer. We just don’t realize it when we are younger. But no matter your age, take the time while you have it, and make the most of it.

The stories we tell

I was taking my weekly walk with a buddy last weekend and I told him a story about the first time I watched a show we both enjoyed in our youth. He then told me that this was the third time I’ve told him that story, but he knew I enjoyed sharing it so he liked hearing it.

I’m visiting my parents and I’ve heard a few old stories from them and my sisters, and I’m sure they’ve heard a few repeats from me. It’s interesting the way our old stories define us.

Do we remember fond moments or frustrations? Do we reminisce about family gatherings or family disagreements? Is it acts of kindness or malice that we weave our stories around? Are these stories of joy, laughter, sadness, or scorn?

What do we hold on to? What shapes the memories that matter, and ultimately shapes us? If these memories don’t serve us well, can we change them? Can we redefine these memories? Can we give them less or more power over us?

I believe we can. And if we happen to hear our family or friends share happy stories more than once, hopefully we can have the same grace my buddy had to listen and enjoy (again).