Time Enjoyed Is Never Time Wasted…

The modern world has made it difficult to simply sit back and enjoy silence. Between work, chores, family obligations and the constant need to be doing SOMETHING, the world has left the concept of simply knocking back and doing nothing behind. The advent of social media has also brought about a phenomenon where people seem to consider it more important ton make hobbies and past times about making money online as opposed to simply enjoying them for what they are.

In recent years, I’ve come to realize that at some point, one needs to step out of the rat race in order to allow the body to heal and recover from the stresses of daily life. As nice as it would be to live a live without stress, thinking that one could accomplish such a thing, especially in today’s climate, is pretty much a fool’s errand. Stress comes in many forms and can have many emotional, mental and physical effects on the body. This makes it all the more important to take time to simply let the silence sink in.

Finding a quiet environment has been difficult for me, considering my children are like two overloaded freight trains that feel it necessary to go head-to-head on the tracks. After a long day’s work, coming home to a constant barrage of noise can make it all the more difficult to relax and let one’s mind cool. That’s why I’ve started to partake of a new practice of sitting by myself, first thing in the morning. This is pretty straightforward, given that it’s the summer season but when I wake up in the morning, I usually grab my energy drink and go sit on the front step.

Despite the warmer weather, the front of my house doesn’t face the sunrise, so the front step is shaded and allows for a coool,m refreshing means of starting one’s morning in silence. If I’m smart enough to be silent myself, the amount of early morning wildlife that I see running around is wonderful. Between squirrels, rabbits, local cats and a variety of bird species, it’s basically like my own little nature retreat. That is, until the boys wake up and bring their loud, raucous voices outside to join me. Everybody wants a piece of daddy… First world problems.

It’s important to find ways to enjoy a bit of quiet. We get so tied up in the constant racket of our daily lives that we often forget that our bodies and minds need a bit of time to cool. Otherwise, the opportunity to burn out is very real and prevalent. Whether that means finding a private spot and taking the time to meditate, sitting quietly in the mornings like I do or even just taking an hour at a local coffee shop with a good book. It’s all good. you can’t miss. It’s all an important step of self-care that one must observe. After all, if you don’t take good care of yourself, you’ll never be able to help care for others. Food for thought… ☯️

All Good Things…

Ah, the 1990’s… They gave us so much. Setting aside the fact that I graduated from high school in the 90’s (yes, I’m that old), the early 90’s also gave us the finale to a much-loved and anticipated follow-up to the original Star trek series. I’m writing, of course, of Star Trek: The Next Generation. TNG hit the airwaves in an unexpected manner, giving us the follow-up series that Trekkies never knew they needed. When the two-part finale aired, it was entitled “All good things…,” a play on the old saying that all good things must come to an end. I felt it a fitting and suitable title for today’s post as, you see, today will be MY last episode, or post, I suppose…

I started this blog all the way back in late 2019. It originally started as a means for me to keep my writing skills sharp. Writing, much like anything else, is a kept skill; one that becomes lessened or lost if one does not use it regularly. “If you don’t use it, you lose it,” may be an apt analogy. When I originally posted, my intention was for this to be a photography blog, if you can believe it. I absolutely love flower and nature photography and my first post was a gallery of various flowers I had photographed during one of my trips in New Brunswick. I’m totally not kidding! You can check it out right here. Those flowers bring back some memories…

Somehow, within a short period of time, I immersed myself in writing this blog and did the same thing I do with everything else; I gave myself goals. My first goal was to expand my own horizons and research capabilities. Through that lens, I began writing about the two things I felt I knew a reasonable bit about: martial arts and Type-1 Diabetes. Before I knew it, I threw my own faith in the ring and began writing about Buddhism, as well. The Diabetes and martial arts aspect developed into fitness & health, writing motivational or opinion pieces as well as the occasional “just because” posts that made me feel good. Somehow, since publishing that first post on February 27, 2019, I’ve managed to write 1,480 posts (not including this one) and have amassed 573 subscribers. Although not quite on part with the modern day “influencer,” and I use the term lightly, it’s not too shabby for someone who started to write on a whim and simply grew from there.

My goals were reasonably simple. On the larger scale, I wanted to share what I knew. I also wanted to keep my writing skills as sharp as a could. On a smaller scale, I wanted to write a post each day for a week. Then a month. Then a year. Then I challenged myself to go for broke and write for 1,000 straight days in a row, a goal that i achieved on December 10, 2022. I found myself asking what’s next and this was perhaps the beginning of a downward slope that would bring me to the here and now. I believe I’ve reached a point where I’ve gotten from this blog what I started out to do. I have maintained my writing skills, which are now in heavy, HEAVY use in the job I started two years ago. I’ve reached the goals and milestones I set for myself and any further or lengthier milestones would just border on the absurd at this point.

I believe I’ve shared reasonable, well-researched information to allow readers to consider possibilities and do research of their own, never professing to be a medical professional or to know better than anyone else. I’ve written on almost every fitness, health, martial arts and Diabetes-related topic I could think of, some being so obscure that it seemed almost a stretch (you can scroll through my posts to find the ones on bowel movement colours, if you need an example). Although I would have never thought it possible, I believe I tapped out my creativity. After all, I did manage to pour out 1,000 posts in a row. How much more could I possibly do?

As with all things in life, there is a balance. For all the good and the enjoyment I’ve received from writing my blog, there has been some negative. I recall getting into a heated debate in my comments section from a very unpleasant young lady who took offence to a post I wrote about meat. THAT was fun. I’ve also had a number of individuals who have unfortunately thought it was their place to question, belittle and demean some of my posts, either in the comments section or to me directly. In a sense, even those were beneficial as they often led to posts about scrolling on by or not commenting on things you don’t agree with. But all in all, it has certainly been a positive experience, one I think that I shall always remember fondly and without regret.

Writing this blog hasn’t garnered the kind of traction I had eventually come to hope for. But I know that I have reached some. And for me, that’s more than enough. My posts will be here, at least until I ultimately decide to shut the account down completely. So I take some comfort in knowing that to some extent, people can still find my posts, read my writing and come to allow their thinking to be stimulated. And for one such as I, that’s all that can be asked. I may eventually come back to my blog. Or perhaps writing here has opened the door for me to pursue something bigger. You know me, always another goal. And that’s what’s important in life; to never let yourself grow stagnant and always keep pushing forward. Stay healthy, stay hydrated and check your blood sugars frequently. Doing so will ensure that I will be here sometime in the future to continue this writing. And it will ensure you’re here to read it. Food for thought… 🙏☯️

Til Death Do You What…?

Benjamin Franklin once wrote that “[…] in this world, nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” Considering the taxes I’ve paid since making my transition into the adult world, quite a number of years ago, I can attest that taxes are not something one can avoid. At least not legally, but that’s another post for another day. The focus of today’s post is death. Most people are leery of death and the concepts behind it. One of the things that allows us as people to make our way through life and work towards goals and find some semblance of happiness is the fact that we seem to be programmed to live without constantly being aware that there’s a finish line and there’s nothing to do to avoid it.

If one were to wake up every morning acknowledging that they’re going to die, can you imagine the kind of chaos that would ensure in the world? People would stop trying. Goals and achievements would come to a screeching halt, crime rates would increase dramatically and the ones who don’t necessarily covet their existence quite as dearly as others would take foolish chances and perhaps bring upon their end sooner than would have otherwise taken place. Problematically, there are some who DO live this way. The results are never good, per se, and there is always the question of what happens after we die. The big problem is that we are programmed to survive, often whether we want to or not. And as I once read in a book by one of my favourite authors, survival is a motherfucker!

We are also biologically programmed to ignore death, preserve ourselves and push forward, which is why for most people, their first thought in the morning isn’t “wow, I’m going to die someday.” The concept of death frightens most people, whether because of their inherent, biological will to survive or because of the unknown. For many, knowing what happens to our existence after death could potentially bring peace. Especially if it could ever be proven that there is some level of existence beyond this mortal flesh. on the flip side, much of what I described in the previous paragraph would come to pass on a high and more extreme level, if humanity ever managed to confirm life after death.

It’s a topic rife with contradictions, since most people avoid the topic and become uncomfortable talking about it. But it’s ever-present nonetheless and I recently had the opportunity to deal with a matter that brought some of these thoughts and concept to the forefront of my mind. When I was young, despite having Type-1 Diabetes, the concept of death was always a bit of a mystery to me. It wasn’t until my own doctors suggested that I would die in a short number of years due to my condition that I awoke to the question of what happens beyond the grave. Given that I was raised by a devout French-Catholic mother, there were plenty of religious concepts thrown into the mix, which were nothing more than extremely confusing for a young child.

It wasn’t until a couple of years later, when my brother passed away from all his illnesses, that it really brought it home for me. It was my first time genuinely dealing with the concept of death and seeing it in its horrible reality. In some ways, many ways, I was fortunate as my brother spent the majority of his life suffering and death brought an end to that. It was one of the driving factors that motivated me to take my life and health into my own hands and ensure I would continue on and live a full life. Three and a half decades later, I’m still alive and very-much kicking, karate pun FULLY intended.

My recent experiences have once again raised the question of what takes place after death and ultimately, does any of it matter? As a people, different cultures have different beliefs and customs behind what happens to our remains after we die. Generally-speaking and only from my own experience, folks here in the western world generally bury or cremate their dead, include religious ceremonies of whatever faith they follow and believe. The ceremonies are given almost as much status and importance as the death itself but the painful reality is that such ceremonies are usually only of import to those who remain; the dead don’t care about such things.

I once read an article written about the concept of life after death where the writer stated that at this point, given the number of people who have claimed to have experienced something beyond consciousness, near-death experiences and such, we should start to consider WHAT happens after death as opposed to IF something happens, since it appears evident that is some activity that takes place. Modern medicine and science have provided plenty of information about everything the brain does to try and keep the body going when it knows it’s dying, which causes the whole “bright light ahead” thing, as well as other aspects that people have attributed to dying. People have reported being “outside” of their bodies, watching as doctors work and were able to hear everything. Since science has somehow confirmed that our sense of hearing is one of the last to cancel out after death, perhaps that could be easily explained, as well.

It’s a fascinating topic, if one doesn’t mind the morbidity of it all. And I don’t pretend to know what happens after death but I will admit that like most, I’ve often been curious. I often turn back to what I once told my dearly-departed aunt, when I visited her for one of the last times as she was dying of cancer. I explained that no matter how one viewed life, there was the possibility of something beyond death. If your life was rooted in religion and your faith was grounded, your beliefs would explain everything you needed. You could find comfort in those concepts. If you have no religion or happen to be an atheist, one still needs to acknowledge the scientific aspect, which is that our bodies are proven to be driven by a measurable form of energy. This energy is seen in the current that controls our heart, maintains our brain activity and I think, contributes to making us who we are as a person. And as we all would have been taught through basic high school science classes (at least the ones we didn’t sleep through), energy never ceases to exist nor can it be destroyed; only moved or transformed.

So not matter what manner of life you live, one could argue that there is an explanation of the afterlife, whether your life is rooted in the theological or the scientific. The question simply remains of what, exactly, will that look like. The bad news is that no one knows for sure. The good news is that since there’s no avoiding it, we will all, eventually, have our answer. The takeaway here is to continue to live one’s life to the fullest and recognize that although sad and includes a deep sense of loss when someone we love passes on, it is part of the natural cycle of life that all living things must observe. Birth, life and eventually death is a something we all will experience. But there’s nothing saying that death deserves our time or attention until our time comes, of which we are usually blissfully unaware. Morbid food for thought on a Sunday morning… ☯️

The Bunny Hop Weekend

This weekend was Easter weekend, which has carried different meanings for me throughout my life. Having grown up in a devout Catholic household, it signified the period of time where Jesus Christ was crucified and died on the cross for humanity’s sins, only to resurrect a few days later. It was an aspect of the Bible that I came to know quite well as a child, with religious movies representing Christ’s resurrection playing on the television all weekend and frequent sittings at our local church (sometimes more than one church). As I grew into adulthood and Catholicism’s hold on me released, I slowly forgot about Easter weekend. Hell, I didn’t even get to see it as a long weekend since, as a police officer, statutory holidays meant nothing for my work load.

In recent years, I’ve been lucky in the sense that I get that additional day off, making for a three-day weekend. That can be nice, especially from the standpoint of getting some additional rest. However, as I grew into parenthood, I came to realize that the weekend also came to symbolize bunnies, chocolates, candies and egg hunts. Having grown up with Type-1 Diabetes means that I didn’t experience most of those things as a child. One would think that this would mean I would enjoy going through it with my children but things of that nature are often less fun when you have to be the adult who cleans up after everything that’s done to entertain one’s children. Although I do very much enjoy the Easter jelly beans I received. They’re good times… But I digress…

Typically, my family would travel up to my in-laws, as they’re the only family we have nearby. With my family being all the way in New Brunswick, my wife’s parents are usually the host of our holiday travel plans. We’ve been pretty lucky in the fact that we’ve been the only ones who not only live afar and require accommodation when we travel but also have children. This means Grandma and Grandpa would not only receive the pleasure of our company but get to see their grandchildren for any given holiday weekend, as well. But as life moves forward, families expand and not only are two of my wife’s siblings married now, they also have children of their own. The conundrum this causes is that, much like at my mother’s home in New Brunswick, there is no longer any room to accommodate everyone.

Although getting together as a family is still important, not only over the holidays but as a general practice, fitting that number of people into one residence is not only impractical but can cause friction that one should not have to deal with over a holiday visit. With that in mind, my wife and I took things in a different direction this year and sent our oldest son, Nathan, up to stay with his grandparents for the long weekend. My sister-in-law was travelling through Regina on a trip of her own and offered to bring him up on her way back. He left last Friday and is scheduled to be picked up by my wife tomorrow while I’m at work.

With only one child to entertain and the fact he’s a toddler and doesn’t care where we go, we spent the weekend browsing designs for the bathroom renovation we should be starting soon. We took the opportunity to eat out a couple of times, one of those meals was at my favourite eatery: FatBurger. I consider myself to be a bit of a burger connoisseur and FatBurger has the best damned Mushroom Swiss burger I’ve ever had in my life. I had the opportunity to catch up on a significant amount of laundry and we even changed things around slightly in the living room. As an added bonus, I took today off as an extra day, although I know myself well enough to know I’ll likely check work later.

All in all, it’s been a pretty good and quiet long weekend. Tomorrow, I get to start back at a fresh new office as my location has changed. That should be an all-new adventure. It’ll be interesting to have my entire organization on one floor as opposed to spread out across three floors. As with all things in life, there will be some good and some bad. I’m looking forward to see in which direction this new office will tip the scales. Happy Easter to all those who celebrated this weekend. ☯️

The Shopping Cart Theory

I’ve noticed I’ve been writing a fair bit about right and wrong lately. Not really sure what’s prompting that, beyond someone trying to break into my neighbour’s garage recently. But some of it has had me questioning our perceptions of right and wrong, and how good or perspectively bad a person may be. I say “perspectively” because what seems to be bad to one person, may in fact seem perfectly normal to another. The problem is, most people will allow themselves to do most given things if they know for a fact they won’t get caught. Let’s take speeding, as an example. Everyone knows that speeding is illegal. Most people recognize that they shouldn’t do it and that speed laws are in place for a reason but most people will also allow themselves to speed if they believe there are no cops around and they won’t get caught.

Enter: The Shopping Cart Theory. I’ve heard/read about this theory a number of times over the years, and have even had heated discussions with friends and family members over the concept. The theory postulates that in general, people are unable to self-govern unless they’re ordered to do a given thing or may face consequences if they don’t. This is demonstrated by the returning of a shopping cart, once one is done shopping and has loaded up their vehicle. In concept, there is no acceptable reason WHY a person can’t return their shopping cart. It only takes a moment, it’s simple and easy and it saves work for others.

The flip side to that, is that there are no laws obligating a person to return their shopping cart. The reality is that no one will punish you, fine you, harm you or kill you for failing to return your shopping cart. Although most of us will invariably recognize returning our shopping cart as the right thing to do, there is nothing to be gained from returning it. No one will praise you, you gain nothing and returning it is done only out of the goodness of one’s heart. One must accept and recognize that one is returning the shopping cart ONLY because it is the right thing to do and provides nothing of value or reward to the person.

This is why The Shopping Cart Theory basically determines whether a person is good or bad within the scope of modern society. The thinking is that a person who is unable to take five seconds to return their cart after using it, is only able to do what’s right when they are threatened by the law or some show of force. Most people will leave their cart unreturned without a second thought, seeing no issue with doing so. Hell, I’ve been guilty of it myself, on occasion. I like to rationalize that I had my children with me to deal with or that it was a freezing winter day. But what makes me any better or more important than the poor staff person who has to retrieve my cart in those harsh conditions because I chose not to do so?

Are we capable of doing the right thing, even when we have nothing to gain and won’t be punished for failing to do so? I’d like to think so. I’ve evidence to the contrary often enough to make me question it, though. But doing the right thing even when not required to so, plays into the Noble Eightfold Path, which includes Right Thinking and Right Action. So, the moral of this post is simply to ask oneself a question: Am I able to self-govern and do what’;s right, even when it gains me nothing? If the answer is no, perhaps a touch of self-reflection is necessary. Food for thought… ☯️

A Little Mid-Week Motivation…

Having lived a number of years in the National Capital Region, I’m not stranger to protest and people picketing in the street about some dumb shit or another. Given that I now live in Regina, Saskatchewan, which has the Province’s legislative building, it’s not unusual to see people picketing or protesting outside of that property, as well. I’ve seen enough of it to last me a lifetime, and I was even stuck in Quebec City in 2001, when they held protests against the 3rd Summit of the Americas. oh, my bad… As I was often corrected by protesters on site, it was a “demonstration,” not a protest. Idiots. Anyhoo, as you can clearly see, my opinion of protests isn’t the best. Maybe it has something to do with the fact I was there on vacation and wasn’t a protester, yet I got gas canistered. But I digress…

My point is that when one sees someone standing by the road, holding a large placard or sign, one is inclined to think that they’re protesting something or “standing up for something they believe in.” Don’t get my bitterness wrong; if there’s something someone feels they should object to, have at it! It’s still a free country, to a point, and if there’s something you feel you need to communicate, that’s your right. I won’t get into the politics behind what I’m describing as I don’t need my comments section blowing up in my face and that really isn’t the point of today’s post. in fact, today’s post is meant to bring up something positive.

One of my friends back home posted a short video clip of a man, standing on the road, holding a large placard with some words on it. My friend was driving by, so the video wasn’t clear enough for me to see what was written. She captioned the video with “every Sunday.” I got curious and thought maybe this person was protesting something, so I asked what the sign said. It isn’t unusual for someone to protest consistently. in Regina, for example, we have a lady who protests almost on a daily basis in front of the RCMP Training Academy. Despite knowing what HER placard says, I’m still not sure what she’s hoping to accomplish. But once again, I digress…

My friend that this person’s placard said “Happy Sunday.” I must admit that hearing this made me happy in a very particular way. There’s so much negativity in the world that hearing of someone who takes their own time and goes out of their way to do something like this is quite amazing. Likely, most people drive right on by without a second thought but when it comes to a positive action like this, if even one person sees that signs and feels happier because of it, this person will have made their difference. And I think that’s beautiful. This is the influence people should have in the world. The reduction of suffering, not the propagation of it. Be a positive force in the world instead of constantly hindering others. If everyone did this, the world would be in significantly better shape. Food for thought… ☯️

It’s Not Them, It’s You…

By virtue of having spent well over a decade working as a police officer, I’ve had the benefit (or detriment) of seeing both sides of society; the concerned, vulnerable populace who need help protecting themselves and the people who just flat out don’t give a fuck and will break every law, whether they get caught or not. Whether you view these folks as criminals or simply willing to “do the time,” I’ve come to learn that it isn’t always so black and white. After all, there’s always the old moral dilemma about a man stealing a loaf of bread to feed his starving children. By definition, this man is a thief. By moral standards, he’s doing what’s required in order to feed his starving family. The latter raises the question about whether we should be doing more to help people like this, as opposed to simply slapping them with the long appendage of the law.

I think that most folks in general would agree that they’ve worked hard to obtain their material goods that there’s really no reason for others to try and take what they have. I’m inclined to agree with this concept, recognizing that maybe not everyone has the ability or resources to reach the same stage of life that I have. But this doesn’t entitle them to take what I have, infringe on my home and my sanctuary and endanger the safety and wellbeing of my wife and kids. Such an action can expect a measured result, intended to defend and deter more than harm or injure. Especially since the latter can get you into scores of legal troubles, depending the jurisdiction in which you reside. In Canada, the Criminal Code allows you to defend yourself or your property, as long as that defense is measured and no more than what is required.

At the start of the weekend, I was awoken by the sound of a text message on my cell phone. Considering the only folks who regularly text me are my wife, my boss and my staff, I was carefully choosing some choice curse words to give whomever was waking me up at 2 o’clock in the morning. Turns out it was my next door neighbour. We share a tandem driveway and he texted six little words that had me fully awake in less than a second: “Just caught someone in my garage…” I bolted out of bed and had my hoodie and shoes on in less than a minute. I bolted out the door and found my neighbour’s downstairs tenant stepping outside, as well. He told me he saw four guys running out of my neighbour’s yard and heading to the street.

I got the direction of their escape and watched the street carefully. given that I live in a residential area, I couldn’t be certain that they didn’t dash into someone else’s backyard. My neighbour came out to join me and advised that he was awoken by the sound of his dog losing his mind. He made his way over and found him barking at the garage. Thinking it might have been his girlfriend grabbing something and not even realizing she was still in the bed, he made his way out and came face-to-face with multiple intruders. He backed out quickly and they ran, which was fortunate for him. If their intent had been violence, he would have had no easy defense against multiple assailants.

He had called the city police and to their credit, they showed up within two minutes. They dismissed the downstairs tenant and myself, so I made my way back to bed. My wife commented that she couldn’t remember the last time she had ever seen me move so fast. It was humbling and comforting to know that I still had a bit of the ol’ responsiveness in me… once I was back in bed, my neighbour phoned me and pointed out that he reviewed the camera footage and spotted three individuals going into his yard but only two came out. He was concerned that there may still be someone in his garage or backyard and asked if I would come check with him.

We searched his garage and his backyard thoroughly. Lucky for us, a light powdering of snow had fallen hours prior and we could clearly see that there had been no wandering in the backyard. No one else was found in the garage, either. It shook up everyone involved and I’ll confess that my level of adrenaline took hours to taper off and I didn’t get much sleep. i kept expecting to hear something outside or get another phone call. Hyper-vigilance mixed with PTSD is a hell of a stimulant. The average person will always hear about such things on the news and in the media but one rarely considers how they’ll respond or what they’ll do when it happens to them. Generally speaking, people consider their homes to be their sanctuary, where they can feel safe from the outside world. Something like this tends to slap reality in one’s face and recognize that even the most effective of sanctuaries require safety protocols.

All in all, no one was harmed, nothing was taken and the police have indicated they would be increasing their presence in our area. It simply serves as a reminder for me to ensure my doors are secured and that my yard remains well-lit at night. I don’t like to think about what a confrontation with someone desperate in my backyard may yield. My preference would be never needing to find out. But on the odd chance that someone’s intent may include violence against my family, my sanctuary will become their combat arena. The great white hope is that the police respond before I intervene. ☯️

It’s All In Where You Look…

It’s pretty easy to get jaded against life and stay in one’s lane. While doing so, we unfortunately have a propensity to ignore the world around us and this leads to missed opportunities; opportunities for ourselves and for others. Every once in a while, those opportunities can be important, especially if they provide aid to someone who may need it. And helping others is important, if not only because it’s the right thing to do but because we would want the same from others if we found ourselves in need of said help. I experienced just such an occasion while driving home from work yesterday.

My day at the office was much like any other. The day flew by and I accomplished a solid day’s work, satisfied with my efforts. I put in for some prescription refills before going home, which required me to travel to the east end of the city, since I’m pretty picky about what pharmacy I use. one of my many quirks, I guess. I picked up my prescriptions and made my way home, taking a circular bypass road we have in Regina called “Ring Road.” The weather yesterday was quite mild, with the early evening temperature sitting at 0 degrees. Although this may sound nice, the issue it causes is that the snow and ice around the city melts and creates a lot of water. this would prove to be an issue on Ring Road.

As I was driving westward towards home, there was heavy traffic on Ring Road, with many people banking hard towards their end-of-day destinations. All of a sudden, a small, red SUV started to skid and swerve, going into a fish-tail and ultimately clipping a guard rail at an overpass before being thrown into the median ditch. It all happened quite quickly, so most people in the immediate area could be forgiven for driving past. Stopping on a dime would be unreasonable. I turned on my hazard lights and pulled over to the shoulder. I noticed that no one else appeared to stop. I couldn’t see the driver and the passenger area of the vehicle appeared to be filled with smoke.

I grabbed my gloves, which were ironically a pair of police-issued slash gloves that I had left over from my policing days. I slipped my cell phone into my pocket and started trying to cross the highway. The only thing that pissed me off more than people’s lack of concern, is the fact they weren’t stopping for the only person who had any. While I was waiting, another concerned person stopped as well but by then, a young male driver had emerged from the vehicle and was talking on his cell phone. When I explained that I was a retired police officer and would be helping the young man, she thanked me and got back to her vehicle and departed promptly.

I managed to make my way across the highway and checked on the driver. He was speaking to his sister and trying to explain exactly where he was. Once I confirmed that he wasn’t injured, I offered to take him home. I helped him to gather his important items from the vehicle, secured it and brought him to my vehicle. he explained what I had already assumed; he lost control driving over an icy patch of highway. The problem is that as snow and ice melted and trickled down onto the highway surface from the overpass, an amount of water settled in the shade. Although only a few degrees colder, that water froze, causing an icy hazard. As everyone assumed the roads were bare and dry, the young driver couldn’t predict that he’d be facing this hazard.

He was miraculously lucky… Once he lost control, he somehow managed to avoid all the other traffic on the highway AND only clipped a guardrail as opposed to smashing into it, head-on. I suspected some mild shock on his part, as the depth and severity of his situation didn’t seem to hit him until I pulled up in front of his house. Although only acting in a civilian capacity, I still advised him to get his vehicle towed away from where it was before it caused another collision and to file a claim through his insurance provider. he was incredibly grateful and I ensured he had some family waiting to receive him before I pulled away.

As I was driving home, I couldn’t help but think that out of the several dozen, bordering on a hundred vehicles that whipped past the scene, only myself and one other person had the thought to stop and check on another human being who may have potentially been injured and needing help from someone. I couldn’t help but imagine that had that been me… Or worse yet, my wife, I would curse the world for failing to stop and lend a hand. Although I admit that my prior police training would have prompted me to stop, I can’t help but believe that the goodness in people should still be a presiding factor in our decisions.

I’m glad I was able to help this young man. I wished him the best and hoped everything worked out for him when I drove away. Before he stepped out of my vehicle, he made a point of how lucky he felt that I was there to help him out. He attributed the miracle of his survival and the fact I showed up to the “Big Guy.” I made a poijnt of explaining to him that no thanks were necessary and that there were still good people in the world who simply want to help. It’s all in where you look… ☯️

From This Life To The Next One…

Walking in martial arts circles usually brings with it a fairly rich family tree of karate. One is generally taught by one’s Sensei, who is taught by their Sensei and so on and so forth. For many, if not most students, being able to trace that lineage beyond the first step is pretty rare. After all, most practitioners in the western world open a dojo and may have a photo of those who taught before them, but general contact is pretty rare. I was fortunate n the fact that Sensei has always kept contact with me. Sensei has always kept contact with HIS Sensei and as a result, I had the pleasure and opportunity to take steps up the ladder to train with those individuals.

One of the most notable individuals that I’ve had the pleasure to meet, was Sensei Bob Blaisdell. My Sensei first met Sensei Blaisdell through a magazine advertisement in the early 1970’s. Sensei jumped into his rundown Mustang and travelled on his own to Massachusetts, intent on convincing Sensei Blaisdell to train him in the Okinawan art of Uechi-Ryu karate. Sensei Blaisdell was leery of this random, French, New Brunswicker who left behind his wife and daughter to travel across the border to learn karate. But something in Sensei’s eyes convinced Sensei Blaisdell to take him on and he became his trusted teacher and mentor. He became his friend. He became his Sensei. Over the years that followed, Sensei would travel down to Massachusetts intermittently for coaching, testing and guidance on teaching at his own school.

Me, Sensei, Sensei Eva and Sensei Blaisdell

I just found out yesterday that after 49 years of being my mentor’s Sensei, Sensei Blaisdell has passed away.

I first met Sensei Blaisdell in the early 1990’s, when I was still a skinny punk who thought he knew it all without the common sense to prevent trying to prove it. We had arranged to bring Sensei Blaisdell up to New Brunswick to help us celebrate Sensei’s 30-year anniversary of teaching. I had the privilege of training with him and getting to know him over the weekend. Armed with a heavy Boston accent and swearing as heavily as a Maritimer, it was an instructive and enlightening weekend. The fact he had embarrassing stories about Sensei certainly helped. Usually, it’s the other way around and Sensei shares embarrassing stories about me.

For the years that followed, Sensei Blaisdell’s influence would carry on through all of us. And rightly so, since my Sensei learned directly from him. The thing that most students fail to understand is that their skills and capabilities are a direct result of those who came before them. Had my Sensei not trained with Sensei Blaisdell and then subsequently trained me, I wouldn’t be the martial artists that I am today. Through his actions, Uechi-ryu karate was brought to Northern New Brunswick and endured as one of the only traditional Okinawan karate schools under Sensei’s teachings in that part of the Maritimes for almost five decades. The man’s signature is on my black belt certificate, for light’s sake…

Sensei Bob Blaisdell

It’s always important to know where one’s roots come from, in order to acknowledge where we’re going. We’ve lost touched over the past couple of decades. Some of that is my doing. Life rarely cares about one’s plans. That makes his death all the more tragic. Time is fleeting and can never be taken back. And maybe that’s what makes this loss so hard. Or maybe it’s the knowledge that death comes to us all, and that Sensei may be the next loss I suffer. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s making me acknowledge my own mortality. In either scenario, Sensei Blaisdell’s influence continues to teach me something, even in his passing. Rest in peace, Sensei Bob. You will be missed. ☯️

Not All That Is Cracked Is Broken…

You know, we’re at an interesting point in human existence right now… We boats being more enlightened, more tolerant and more understanding of others; all while both verbally and physically attacking those who are different or don’t share our views, opinions and/or belief systems. Although not the only one, it remains as one of the biggest societal contradictions that I see and recognize on a daily basis.

When I was growing up, I was shunned, bullied and picked on for being different and not sharing the same interests or abilities as my peers. This concept carried on into my adult life and brought me to a time and place where self-image and my acceptance of it, became an important tool to repair the cracks in who I felt I was as opposed to how the rest of the world kept telling me I should be.

This reminds me a bit of kintsugi. Some of you might know what this is or may have heard of it. Kintsugi is a Japanese practice of repairing brown pottery using gold to fill the cracks. The idea is that just because something is broken, it’s no longer useless and can be mended in such a way to make it even more valuable and endearing than it previously was. The idea behind this philosophy is to learn to embrace imperfection and recognize the value in something, even when it’s flawed.

Although potentially beautiful and pleasing on the eyes (you can Google “kintsugi” for examples of what I’m talking about here), there is a significant flaw in this philosophy; one that comes back to a much different viewpoint as it relates to the breaking of ceramic or pottery. I once read a story online where a philosophy professor asked a student to smash a plate on the floor, and the student did so. The professor then asked the student to say “sorry” to the plate and the student did. The professor then asked if the plate had been repaired and when the student said that it hadn’t, pointed out that words can have the same effect.

Although the concept of kintsugi can make a piece beautiful and interesting, there’s no denying that not causing the damage in the first place is equally, if not more so, important. Also, the vanity of believing one can repair something they believe is flawed flies in the face of accepting that not all people share same views, same thoughts, same beliefs… It’s accepting those differing aspects that make us a rational, civilized society. Unfortunately, based on what I’ve seen, we aren’t there yet. ☯️