Living on the edge

In snowboarding, there is a saying: If you are not on the edge, you are taking up too much room. It is true. The edge is the sweet-spot where everything just clicks. It fits, it is easy, looks effortless and everything flows. But it can be hard work finding the edge - and even harder staying there. If you are not on the edge, you are just coasting.

I started a new job two weeks ago and to many the move made no sense. I still grapple with why I moved. I had the best job in government. I worked in an innovative organization that experimented, I loved my boss, I knew what I was doing and I was good at it - but I was coasting. I was no longer on the edge. I was no longer pushing me or challenging my assumptions, I was not forcing myself to be better and to grow. I needed to find the edge, that rush of adrenaline that comes with trying something you didn't think you can do.

Snowboarding keeps me sane and gets me through winter. If I couldn't be out there, pushing the limits - my limits - I would not have the opportunity to learn about me. It is because of snowboarding that I know I have to take risks and push, I have to find my edge and ride it through. It isn't always easy - but that is what keeps life interesting and keeps me coming back.

Kind of like starting a new job. I am pushing my comfort zone and living on the edge again. I am learning and there is a good chance that I might fall.  The first time I ever locked into a carving board I was terrible and couldn't even stand up, but I also couldn't stop smiling. And like that experience, I know that this is right. I might not have the edge, yet, but I know this is where I am supposed to be.

First Impressions

Spending a lot of time on chairlifts alone gives me time to think ... possibly not a good thing!

First impressions are so important and we base so much on them, and yet they tell us nothing about the actual person on whom we are projecting these impressions. I know for one that I am guilty of letting my prejudices cloud my opinions on people before they even say hello and yet some of the most interesting people I have ever met are those who have proven they are very much not the person who I thought they would be.

I wrote earlier about using stereotypes to make life simpler and this is really what first impressions are, they really build on these and are self fulfilling. I think about how quickly (and possibly unfairly) I have been in the past with my initial impressions of people, I start to wonder how bad a first (second or third) impression I make on others.

Building off what I said in some of my previous posts I think I have created for myself a strong stereotype; the curmudgeonly bachelorette. This is what I have hoped to portray in my worklife, and to some extent my, personal life. By being honest with myself, I have to acknowledge that a lot of that has been a shell. I used to joke that my sister was the Ice-Princess and that she has a cold and impenetrable exterior, but the Ice-Princess is actually pure mush once you break that down, she has a heart of gold (when you find it). I would like to believe that I have learned a lot from my little sister. She has always protected herself from the world, believing that I was naive and way too trusting - and this is the case. I have been hurt and started to create this shell, I built layers and created a new persona, the curmudgeonly bachelorette, so that people couldn't get in and hurt me. The bottom line was to my thinking was "you can think what you want of me, but if I pretend I really don't care, then I really won't care!" But I think I have taken it too far and it is time to create a balance.

I am going to try and challenge the first impression that I project on others and be open to their second and third impressions, given them the opportunity to build a complex (and complete) pictures of themselves. As for me - who knows, maybe I am an Ice-Princess or a curmudgeon, or something else ... and maybe I am not. Who knows! Let me challenge your impressions of me.


I want to thank CBD for giving me the inspiration for this post - something he said about first impressions (and "the hot one") at Lac Carling really spoke to me. He is right, as usual!

Fighting for what I deserve

I have made it clear ... I do not do new years resolutions. I believe that if something bothers you, you should be proactive and change it - not waiting for some artificial day on a calendar to start working on a "better" you. However this year, my epiphany happens to coincide with the change from 2011 to 2012, so it might be a little like a resolution, but I think it goes deeper than that.

I walk home a lot. And today, despite the -17C (-21C with the windchill) I walked home. I needed the time and quiet to think. To contemplate everything that has gone right and wrong this year and evaluate where I am, or where I am not. I thought I would be somewhere else by this time ... I am not sure where that was, but I am pretty sure it wasn't here. And yet I am here. I have been lulled into the easiness of this life and I have been complacent.

Emotions are a positive thing. They allow you to feel alive, even if they are emotions like sadness, anger or fear. I have been afraid of feeling, emotions are a sign of weakness, they show you care - and therefore that you are vulnerable and can be hurt. So I don't show emotions, I prefer to work it out in private and conquer them. By hiding my emotions, I have been going through the motions instead of feeling life, letting life happen to me.

By hiding, it easy to pretend that you have everything you want. But there are things I want and I don't fight for them. If I believe I deserve them then I need to make it known. I need to let people know I care and that not getting them hurts, that I do feel. That doesn't mean whining and holding a grudge when you don't get what you want. I does mean fighting for what is mine.

When I joined the public service, I heard a lot of long-term employees complaining that they had hit a wall because they didn't speak French. They were not doing anything about, they were whining. And recently I have found myself whining as well. I have become "one of them". Part of the reason is because I feel like I have been dealt the short end of the stick, but I suppose the truth is part of me is scared. Scared of trying and not succeeding, of making an effort, of having people put their faith in me and me being a failure! Not speaking French for me is the ultimate indicator that I am stupid. I need to make this a priority and I need to embrace the fear. I need to fight for French. But I am not sure I know how to fight.

In high school, university, grad-school, things came easily. I never had to fight for anything. And to a certain extent, I have been very lucky with a lot in life and it has come easily; a great job, fantastic friends, a nice house, the perfect cat. The few time when things got out of hand, there were people to show me an easier way. I have made a career of figuring out how to do things, quicker, cleaner, better - easier! Life is good ...

... but there is more. I deserve more. I deserve to be able to share all of this with someone. I have never chosen to be alone, it has been where my apathetic life has taken me. I have not fought. I have not stood up and told that special someone that they are what I want, what I deserve, and that they would be dam lucky to have me. It is time for me to fight for me. For me to stand up and say that this is what I want. It is time to stop being afraid of being rejected and the emotions that come with it (because the emotions are better than nothing) and it is time to take control for my sake.

I am going to learn to fight. I am going to start fighting. I am going to start feeling again.

On the road again ... and home again

For the last decade, whenever I started a trip, I would sing "one the road again ... I can't wait to get on the road again". It was something Donkey sang to Shrek and have not been able to get it out of my mind since. The song speaks to adventure, the unknown and the journey as much as the destination. So where have my destinations been over the last four-plus weeks and what have I learned along the way?

I was in Lac Carling (Quebec) for a week, helping to teach a course; I was in Toronto for a friend's wedding; I was in Paris and the Alps for some much needed R&R; and then I was back in Toronto for work. I have been in six different airports (some numerous times) and have rushed to make connections. I have dropped the cat off and have packed hurriedly late at night. I have left work early to get to the airport in time and stayed late at work to not have too much time to kill at the airport. I have removed my boots, belt, earrings, necklace and bracelet to clear security more times that I wish to remember (I am wondering why I wear so much metal ... by now I should know better) and I experimented with e-Boarding cards. I have driven 20 minutes to get cell phone reception and swum in a Canadian lake in November. I have wandered mountain paths at midnight in the snow and taken the subway at 10am on my way to the party, all dressed up.

In Lac Carling I learned that no matter how tired you are, the energy from the people you are supporting in their learning journey can keep you going and inspire you to push yourself to learn more too. In Toronto I learned that love can really triumph and that beautiful weddings can be planned in a few short months. In Paris I learned how much you can see and do in two and half days (all with the support of good transit and an even better bike-share program). In the Alps I was reminded how much hiking at altitude hurts and that sometime sitting still and watching the snow fall is just as important as running to the next museum. I have learned I like whiskey, brandy and steak tar-tar, and that if you want to go to Europe as a tourist, early December is a fantastic time to visit because no one else is there. I have also learned that you can not count on GoogleMaps for directions, or the boys in the car to help you find your way into the Quebec mountains, but that a decent map in Paris means I can even give locals directions. I learned that I make a decent guide and still know my way around Toronto and how to scout a decent dumpling shop. I learned that the line up for the Mona Lisa isn't as worth the time as the line up for the summit of the Eiffel Tower, and that old train stations make stunning spaces for art. I now know that duty free alcohol isn't always a good deal and that having someone drive you back from the airport beats a taxi any day of the week. I now know that clean up well when given the right dress and accessories, that even when traveling light extra layers are still important, and that I can do the over-night business trip with everything stuffed into a handbag.

I have also met and spent time with some fantastic people along the way. Some of them I have known for a while, but was able to slow down and spend time getting to know them, others I met for the first time and was inspired or challenged. The new guy at work and the not so new guy at work,my sister and her boyfriend, the bride's best friend, the groom's cousins, my friend's husband, the expats living life in the Alps, my parents. There were also the people that I thought about one quiet afternoon in a Montmartre coffee shop while writing postcards.

But the real destination was home. I am home. Home sweet home. It has been a hectic four week. I have an unknown stretch of the future here - and I am sure the cat is as happy about it as I am. The real journey is a reminder that as much as I have wonder-lust for new adventures around the world and the opportunities out there, the learning, the friends and the experiences, I like my place; my space; my life here.

Relearning difficult lessons

I often tell people that 31 was my worst year. Something was off ... nothing was working. In retrospect, it is probably because I lost my groove. And because I was forced to learn some lessons. Lessons that I have recently had to relearn.

I have developed a reputation for being pretty stubborn and independent. But until recently I have relied on other people to help me not only find the motivation to do stuff, but to be happy and feel good about me. The biggest part about this was the conflict between my love of being outside and doing stuff (especially snowboarding) and the fact that there were few people who were able to join me on a regular basis.

Last winter, I found myself on the hill alone. The first few times were very hard. Just getting the motivation to get out there after work and be alone on the hill took a lot. It became easier and over time I realised that I actually really enjoyed being alone on the hill and just doing my own thing. I have since been hiking by myself (and saw a bear ... not sure who was more startled by the run-in) and have discovered that I really like traveling by myself.

I learned to be happy - alone. To be comfortable with just me (and occasionally the cat). Long drives, airplane flights, hours on the hill. I enjoy my company and sometimes (just sometimes) resent when people infringe on this time.

Being alone and doing things alone also meant that I had to take responsibility for not only my happiness, but my gear. I had to be able to fix my bike, figure out my bindings, change a tire. I also had to have the tools to do all this. Being alone meant being prepared for the worst, because when it is bad, you only have yourself.

Recently I might as well have been 31 again! I recently, due to several incidents, forgot about these lessons that were so hard (and painful) to learn last winter. An encounter made me forget that I am responsible for my happiness and that I need to keep doing things my way. That I need to find what grounds me and stick with it - no matter how other people make me feel. Along with that, I found myself in the middle of nowhere two weeks ago, with a flat tire, alone and without gear.

I was on a long group ride, and for most of the ride I held my own. But I was over-tired and under-prepared. I admit, I brought nothing with me other than water. Why should I? I was with a large group of people and rode solid in the pack. At least three of the ten of us had full gear kits. And then I felt like I was crashing. I had no energy, couldn't move my bike forward. I let the group know I was taking a quick stop and would catch-up with them. Stretching, I realised that, apart from being out of water, I felt great, so I got back on the bike and kept peddling ... but again, I couldn't move the bike. It was HARD. After about 500m, I realised my front tire was rapidly flattening! Where was I? How far till my friends house? Would they wait? I was about 6km from my friends house in the middle of nowhere - and no one waited for me. It took me an hour to walk back. Emotionally it was as hard as it was physically. Bike shoes are not the most comfortable to walk in, but having an hour alone, along unknown paths of having to think about why I was in this position reminded me that I need to remember that I can not rely on other people. That I am responsible for the situations that I find myself in and that the reason I was walking with my bike was because I had forgotten some of the simple truths I had learned last winter.

So, as I head into another winter and I try and figure out how to keep myself happy, I will seek to remember that I, and I alone, am responsible for where I am in my life and that when I forget this, I will probably find myself walking home with my bike in bike shoes.

Awesome Ottawa

Everyone who lives here makes snide comments about the "city". And to a certain extent, it is true. Ottawa is a small town, a National Capital that lacks the charisma of many of the larger more dynamic, more established capitals around the world. People here are either policy wonks or in high-tech (yes, a huge over simplification of a diverse fabric, but that is how my circle spins). And yet, there is something here that holds people, that draws you in and holds you tight. The quality of life is fantastic, the ability to be outside in nature, hang out in trendy cafes and hang out with people.

Every so often, there is something that makes Ottawa even more Awesome - and the good people at Awesome Ottawa really help with this. They give out monthly grants to a good idea that will make make Ottawa fun and exciting. Recently a friend of mine won this and hosted a murder mystery.

I have never been to a murder mystery and part of being a curmudgeonly bachelorette is being skeptical about events that require costumes and acting as someone to be part of a larger mystery. I was skeptical, but my friend has written several of these and the more be talked about it, the cooler it sounded. He wrote each part for the guests and their character. None of this open box story line or hired actors, 100% commitment from everyone at the party ... because one of us was the murder (and she didn't find out until after the murder that she did it). The theme was famous dead people and everyone chose their character. There were prizes for best costume, best character and for figuring the whole thing out (you also had to disprove all the other suspects). The wine flowed freely, we mingled and met new people.The costumes were fun and eye-opening and I had a whole night of friendships with people I have never met people - and wouldn't recognize again - because we were characters.

I have to say - that when you look hard, there are some awesome things that happen in Ottawa. Around every corner there are interesting people and interesting projects. Yes, I still have the itch to leave, and yet every month someone does something awesome and I am reminded how great this place really is and how lucky I am.

A big thank you to Greg and Kelly for all the work they put into organizing the event and making it ... well making it AWESOME.

Weddings

Last weekend I was at a wedding on the shore of a little lake, and in the distance the trees were starting to turn vibrant colours adding contrast to the black dresses and suits. The colder weather made the venue intimate and with the specter of winter approaching, the conversations just seemed so much more real. Rich colours, candles and the warmth of people coming together just speaks to me and reinforces what weddings are about. It was beautiful and moving as these two people came together to commit to each other. There was laughter, there was dancing, there was kissing and there were tears (the good kind).

But, deep down - I really don't like weddings.

I love that my friends are finding people that they want to share the rest of their lives with. I am honoured that my friends want me to be part of their public commitment to each other and to celebrate their happiness. But there is so much about weddings that just stink of Hallmark and the expectations for everything to be "perfect". Society seems to have dictated what the wedding should be and many little girls dream about what their day will be like. But no one talks about the stress that I see overcome my friends as they gear up to the "big day" or the crippling cost of feeding and watering 150 of your closest friends and family. The gray hairs that emerge while negotiating the 150 people, and the politics of the "plus one". Wedding service providers seem geared to ripping couples off (did you know if you order flowers for an event is cheaper than the same flowers for a wedding?) and the "best" venues are booked years in advance, but can make or brake your social status.

For me weddings are about watching the groom as he catches his first glance of the bride in her dress and sharing the moment with the couple. Weddings are about catching up with other friends who I haven't seen in a while, about getting out of the routine, putting on a cute dress and celebrating, they are about the toasts and the funny stories, they are about cake and flowers. But it is also a moment to be reminded who I am and where I am ... the last wedding I was at, apart from the kiddies table, I was probably the only person who did not bring a date. I have actually never had a date to a wedding and have been to a fair number now. Dances are the hardest part, no matter how happy you are for someone, watching them glow with happiness in what they have, just hammers home what you do not.

Yeah; weddings are not about me ... they are about the bride, family and friends. And my friends who have recently been married were radiant - it really was their day. Congratulations to everyone who was married this year - and to those of you whose nuptials are pending. Promise to hide my curmudgeonly bachelorette when next I raise a toast to the happy couple.