Category: Motivation

A Diabetic Halloween…

Today is Halloween, which is celebrated in different ways by different cultures and has different backgrounds and origins, depending on who you ask. For the majority of children in North America, it represents a night where they can dress up in their favourite costume and canvass their neighbourhood for free candy and chocolate handouts. I could try and choose my favourite origin for this day but rather, I think it’s more important to describe my perspective from the Diabetic standpoint.

As a child, I would be brought out for Halloween with my mother and older brother. I would receive at every door and fill this small, plastic pumpkin bucket that my brother and I both had. It would be loads of fun and I remember that as a child, I would love trick-or-treating. That is, until I got home and reality came crashing down… Although I made my way out for Halloween when I was 3-years old, I was diagnosed with Type-1 Diabetes when I turned 4, permanently altering my level of involvement and enjoyment with the holiday.

No matter how much or how little candy was collected, the process would involve dumping our collected goods on the kitchen table where my mother and father would sort and go through everything to determine what I could have and what I couldn’t. Sounds reasonable, right? This is what most parents do but in my case, it meant removing ALL of the candy and leaving only a couple of apples and some chips. My parents were unfortunately oblivious to the fact that both of those items had carbohydrates and sugars in them.

It would seem like a cruel twist that I would be permitted to walk in the elements all evening, knocking on every door and actively collecting all that goodness, only to have it all taken away from me because I had Diabetes. Oh sure, there would be times of low blood sugar where I might get lucky and enjoy a piece of my hard-gotten candy but it was pretty rare. Especially once my parents and family got into the stash and helped themselves.

It may not seem like the worst thing that can happen to a person but for a child, it can be reasonably upsetting, which meant that by the time I reached my oldest son’s age of 7, I outright refused to celebrate or participate in Halloween. This only contributed to my loner persona as I wouldn’t even wear a costume to school. “You do know that a costume won’t affect your blood sugars, right?” Yeah, small consolation for the young child who sees everyone else gorging themselves with candy.

It created a bit of a hatred on my part for the particular holiday, especially since the main focus in Western society is on the trick-or-treat aspect. That is, until I had children of my own. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no fan of walking out in the cold while my kids are trying to get free candy. But I an certainly appreciate their enthusiasm and excitement and I get the benefit of knowing that they don’t suffer from the same condition as I do, so I get to live vicariously through their eyes as they get to totally enjoy the fruit of their efforts. Or rather, the candy of their efforts. Sometimes, perspective is ALMOST as important as participation. Happy Halloween! ☯️

Friendships To Last…

As I’ve often written before, humans are inherently pack animals. Why else would we all gather in large groups to build towns and cities? There’s no denying there’s safety in numbers, which is why animals tend to travel in packs, as well. There’s also a social component to it, where most people crave time with others of their own kind. This isn’t to say that there aren’t issues with that concept.

That very same gathering of people can lead to significant issues such as criminal activity, exhaustion of resources and less availability of services due to the amount of people taking advantage at once. But there’s no denying that at our core, we seek out other people and this becomes evident through a firmer connection with others that we refer to as friendships. Loosely defined, because I haven’t defined something in my posts in FOREVER, friendship can be described as a state of mutual trust and support between two parties who wish to enjoy mutual interests.

That definition is quite loose indeed and is more my perspective on what a friendship is, rather than an actual dictionary definition. Do people use dictionaries anymore? Probably not, with the internet available… But I digress… Friendships are important and an integral part of a healthy lifestyle, even to those who prefer to be alone. Solitude eventually has a significant impact on one’s overall mental well-being and growth. This is why we seek out like-minded people from a young age.

During childhood, friendships follow a come-and-go model where you’ll usually be friends with the same kid of the roughly the same age that you have available. For example, my son Nathan used to be great friends with the boy who lived next door. When that family moved away, he started playing with the boy and girl across the street and forgot all about the boy next door. Kids are flexible that way and are more about the social interaction than who they’re having it with.

As we get older, however, friendships become more about connections and retaining the person, more so than the interaction. The best friendships are the ones that although you may not have spoken in weeks or months, you still value your time with them when you DO get the chance to get together. I have many of those. That’s certainly preferable to people who have constant contact with you but are in a constant state of conflict. Conflict is never a good thing and will always contribute to one’s own suffering as well as theirs.

The big problem with said conflict is that it usually leads to negative feelings and emotions and damages the friendship. Although I’m a huge proponent of “it’s never too late,” willingness to repair a rift will only carry you so far, especially if the other person is unwilling or incapable of communicating or compromising. To be clear, even though conflict isn’t good, it is normal and it will happen in any long-lasting friendship, whether we want it or not.

As we grow into adulthood and maintain those limited relationships, these issues become more dominant. This makes sense, since adults are more prone to their own opinions and feelings, which may not always reflect with yours. This doesn’t mean that there shouldn’t be a continued communication between those two parties. But that’s the funny thing about communication; it can’t be one-sided. Both people need to be involved in the conversation for it to, well… BE a conversation.

All of this wordy bullshit is to say that if you find yourself in conflict with a friend because they have a differing opinion than yours, remember that while you have no obligation or expectation of explaining yourself, a little explanation and clarification can go a long way. Especially if your goal is to retain and maintain the friendship. And if someone has cut you out and stopped communicating as a result of a misunderstanding, you really only have two options: take the initiative and try to repair the rift or, and especially if it’s happened frequently, let them go. Much like the old saying, if they were meant to be in your life, they’ll make their way back. Food for thought… ☯️

Just Read It…

I found this online a few days ago and I just had to share it. I forget where, it might have been on my facebook feed from one of my friends. There’s no branding to it and I honestly can’t remember, so let’s just enjoy the moment. Peace is important and in fact, integral to a happy life. Whether it’s world peace, peace in one’s own life or peace in others. ☯️

Unexpected Teachable Moments…

Studying martial arts is not only a life-long journey, it’s complicated, twisted road that usually includes multiple obstacles and issues along the way. One of the biggest obstacles, is when one gets a teacher who pays no attention and doesn’t help their students. This can be discouraging and may result in the loss of many students who may have gone on to be skilled and capable martial artists. Not only is that not a good look for any dojo, it also contributes to the dilution of the style, as those capable students could have gone on to eventually pass on their teachings.

If you’re a student, new or experienced, an important thing to watch out for is a lack of teaching or instruction. This can be a sign that perhaps that dojo isn’t for you. Or maybe it’s a McDojo and all one is looking for is the monthly tuition payments. There are unfortunately a lot of those out there and they can be tricky to spot. Sometimes, the dojo in question just happens to be a stagnant environment. One good example I can give is a dojo I studied with for about four years. When I signed on with them, considering they were of a different style, I expected to start over at the white belt level.

However, it was agreed that since I had reached and earned the rank of black belt, I should continue to wear the rank and we’d fill in the gps as I got tested at each individual level. After four years, I was barely ever taught anything beyond the very bare minimum and even then, there was never a focus on any ONE thing. There was always a general sprinkling of a dozen different topics during one class, making it very difficult to learn and develop. Being as that I am an unusual hybrid, too advanced to train easily with the beginners and too new to the style to train with the advanced ones, it was a difficult few years.

The workouts were decent but I was never given any one-on-one coaching, instruction or learned anything beyond techniques that I’ve already been using for decades. Despite dropping subtle reminders (one does not DEMAND testing in karate), I was never taught anything or progressed within the style. It led to my departure, even when I got word that classes were continuing on. That’s me as a student. If you’re an instructor, you have even MORE responsibility. Although there are certain aspects that can be taught by some senior belts to help out the Sensei, a head instructor ultimately has the responsibility of ensuring that all students advance and learn in due course.

The success of each student, and ultimately the entire dojo, depends on the proper teaching and passing on of the knowledge. Unlike some classic kung fu movies, masters don’t hold back that one technique that gives them an advantage over everyone else. A proper Sensei dedicated to the art will not hold anything back and will teach everything they know in hopes that the art will continue to live on and be taught to others. That’s why, if you go to a dojo where they won’t give you any time, ever, you should probably go. Find a different school and pursue your martial arts elsewhere. It’s important to find a school where you not only feel comfortable but accommodates your journey. Food for thought…☯️

Karma, The Invisible Check And Balance…

Karma’s a bitch. We’ve all heard that one before. Most people use this expression in the frame of justifying revenge that may have been exacted on someone, which is ironically the opposite of what karma actually is. Without getting too far into the weeds, since I’ve written posts defining karma before, it’s actually the sum of one’s deeds and behaviours that will affect the outcome going forward. In essence, what you put out into the world is what will likely come back to you. Karma in a nutshell.

I have a rather interesting example of karma, which took place on a few months ago. I never thought about it until last week when a live example fed itself back to me. My boss and I were working with some support staff at cleaning up a mess of paperwork that had been water damaged due to a busted pipe in the ceiling. As such, we spent several hours in the file room, drying things off and putting them away. My boss suddenly decided to put some music on to keep things entertaining. He slapped on some country, which for any of you who know me, isn’t my favourite genre.

After several songs, I commented and asked if he had anything but country. I followed it up by asking if he had even asked the ladies if there was a preference they’d like to hear. It was a jovial and comedic situation that had everyone (including my boss) laughing but there was no question that it put him on the spot and certainly pointed an embarrassing finger at him. Everyone got a good laugh and moved on. No harm, no foul, right?

Fast-forward to several months later when I was working with those same two ladies at boxing up old files to be archived. I had JUST downloaded a new Richard Marx album (it’s called ‘Stories to Tell’ and it’s all his greatest hits on acoustic. I highly recommend it). I thought it would be nice to give it a listen as I created boxes since one coworker was off in the file stacks and another had her head buried in a laptop to number the boxes we were packing.

One of my coworkers came walking along and asked what music was playing, to which I replied it was Richard Marx. She said it sounded a bit low-key and depressing and that I should put on something peppier. She also asked if I had consulted the ladies on what they’d like to listen to, to which they replied I hadn’t asked them a thing. Once again, it was all in good fun and everyone got a laugh (I also switched the music to something they preferred) but the memory of my having done the very same thing to my boss months prior suddenly washed over me and I recognized what had just happened: karma had played out.

Most people aren’t quick to give karma too much stock in daily life, but it’s surprisingly out there and affects us in ways we won’t often see. Everyone LOVES to say ‘all things happen for a reason’ but they mostly use that as a generic quip to justify whatever shitty things they may have caused, themselves. It’s important to be mindful of our thoughts and behaviours. Putting good out into the world certainly ensures that eventually, good will find its way back to you. Food for thought and a shout out to m y co-worker who reminded me of the story above and gave me the idea for this post… ☯️

“Ex” Marks The Spot… (A Long Read)

I recently referenced something in a couple of my recent posts, which some observant readers took notice of, and reached out to ask. I thought that instead of responding to each one (I got a few) I would simply write about it. Much like those folks who make a hobby of pointing out inaccuracies in movies and shows, sometimes it’s better to simply sit back and enjoy the movie for what it is; a movie. The details or inaccuracies in the background shouldn’t matter, since the show is essentially a form of entertainment and a means of escaping into a virtual world for a couple of hours. But I such is life and some can’t help themselves. And I once again digress…

As most people aren’t usually aware and only my close friends know, I was married once before. It was the early 2000’s and I had just parted ways with the woman I was seeing after a few tumultuous years in Moncton, New Brunswick of living poor as a result of her lack of participation in life. My parents graciously offered me a room while I figured out my next steps and what new career path I would pursue. Just to be clear, my intention with this post isn’t to bad-mouth any of my previous partners. But as with all things in life, those choices and relationships played a part in my life’s choices and ultimately brought me to the here and now, making them important.

I was working at a local pharmacy as its manager, when a couple of mutual friends came in to purchase something. We struck up a conversation and as they began asking about my life and its current status, inquired if I would be interested in meeting someone. I said yes. The person in question wound up visiting me at the pharmacy and we agreed that we would spend an evening climbing Sugarloaf mountain. I used to spend the majority of my downtime, back then, either at karate or working out, so I was happy with that choice. The remainder of the summer would see us spend an increased amount of time together as a relationship developed.

By the end of the summer, it was time for her to head back to the Ottawa/Gatineau area as she was currently enrolled in university, there. Although it had only been a couple of months, we discussed my joining her. This presented me with an interesting challenge; I had never lived outside of New Brunswick, nor had I travelled much outside the Maritimes by car. As adult life does not permit one to simply pack up and go, it was agreed that I would take the train and travel out for a few days so I could experience the area and see if I would be amenable to living there.

The train ride was an awakening experience, as it turned out to be almost as long or longer than travelling by car would have been. This was disappointing but it was made better by the fact that I had a friend from home who was travelling to Montreal and wound up on the same train as I. By the time I reached Ottawa and grabbed a ride to my ex’s apartment, my world burst wide open. As I mentioned, I hadn’t really travelled outside of New Brunswick on my own and although I had visited cities such as Fredericton and Halifax, they were no comparison to Ottawa.

The buildings and architecture, the people and population, the Ottawa River… Are you KIDDING me??? I instantly fell in love with the place and knew it would dig itself a cozy little corner in my heart. I was there for a little less than a week and by the time I got on the train to go back to New Brunswick, I knew I would be back. Many would later say that I was influenced more by the city than by the prospect of joining my ex-wife. And they may have been right. Time has not been kind to the retelling of this story.

I quit my job, which was gracious enough to facilitate a transfer to another pharmacy on the Ottawa side, packed all my worldly belongings into my Chevrolet Cavalier Z24 and made my way across the Provinces. I would love to tell the story about how GPS wasn’t quite a thing so I was running off of a MapQuest printout, took a wrong turn and ended up in southern New Brunswick, but y’all laugh at me enough as it is and this story isn’t about that. Carrying on…

I reached Gatineau safely and spent a few days taking in the locale, visiting various places I would need for prescriptions, groceries, all of that good stuff. I knew I had a job waiting for me, so I was taking my time and working off a generous bonus I had been paid to accommodate all the banked hours I had built up at my previous employment. After about two weeks, my ex started questioning when I would get to work, despite knowing I had some savings and that I wanted to enjoy my surroundings and get acclimated a bit before starting.

Now, folks, that should have been an initial red flag that warned me of the possible future outcome I would have to deal with. But in my hubris, I thought that it was just a common expectation born of frustration. After all, she had been studying hard at university while I spent a couple of weeks sleeping in and wandering the ByWard Market. I can see how that would piss me off, being in her shoes. But there would be other things that would present themselves that, in hindsight, I should have clued into enough to recognize and run in the other direction. I did not.

Over the months that followed, I worked far harder than the pay compensated for, a fact that my ex was quick to point out. It all came to a head the one day when we were sitting in a lovely little modern coffee shop outside the ByWard Market. It was a Sunday morning, the sun was shining and I was drinking in the sounds and sights of the city. That was when she chose to ask when I would make a move to start getting a career and make more money. I was having fun. Then my fun heard that question and my fun got soft. Go figure.

I tried explaining that advancement takes time and that my intention was to promote and advance at my current job, which even though it didn’t pay through the nose had the potential for great compensation and benefits if I climbed up to District or even Regional Manager. She was unconvinced and started delivering what I used to consider “soft” ultimatums about not supporting me and expecting me to carry my own weight and share of the finances. I couldn’t fault her for THAT aspect but it was her approach to it that should have been recognized as a problem.

Over the following year, our relationships had some seriously rocky times, including all the worst fights about the future, money and marriage. While it stood to reason that I hadn’t packed up my previous life for nothing, I couldn’t say I was ready to simply jump into something permanent based on a few months of being together. But the pressure and expectation was certainly there. I’d like to say I’m doing a good job of describing all of this, but none of these words do the situation justice. It wouldn’t be until years later that I would recognize that I was in an abusive relationship, albeit not in a physical way.

Things started to look bleak and I recognized something was wrong a couple of months before our 1-year anniversary of being together, when she commented about the fact that if we weren’t engaged after a year of being a couple, we were wasting our time. Although she didn’t phrase it that way, it felt and sounded like an ultimatum. Bear in mind that all of this took place PRIOR to my becoming a police officer and I was far more introvert than I am now. I started to notice that I was no longer sleeping well, I wasn’t eating and my blood sugars were all over the place and I lost weight.

She must have took notice that things were going awry, because she wound up doing the very thing that every abuser does and that every victim soaks up and takes for gospel: she apologized and promised to change. And like the damned fool that I was, I believed her. She said she realized the pressures and stresses she was putting on me were inappropriate and unfair and that she would change how she viewed our relationship and how she treated me. I believed her. Hey, what can I say? Like most, I had never been in an abusive relationship before, so I had no precedent to tell me it was likely all bullshit. I thought she was sincere…

Because of this and because a seed was already planted telling me it was expected, I proposed on our 1-year anniversary. It was a joyous few weeks and things were looking up. I had left my job at the pharmacy and became the Operations Manager for a local protection and investigation agency. It would become the first time I wore body armour and a sidearm and would start planting the seeds of interest in policing. But that’s a different story. When one climbs too high and becomes complacent, it becomes far easier and more dangerous to fall. So, of course something would throw a monkey wrench into the mix.

My ex revealed that we would be moving back to New Brunswick after she graduated from university, that summer. This was a problem because I had now secured a solid job with advancement opportunities, I was in the middle of the RCMP application process AND I was deeply enamoured with the Ottawa area and didn’t want to leave. This not only resulted in what would become one of the biggest fights we ever had but it resulted in her moving back to her parents place and leaving me to close out our apartment, quit my job and transport everything back to New Brunswick on my own.

It was a rough month of being alone, trying to decide what to do and making ends meet. I seriously contemplated breaking up and just staying in Ottawa on my own. I even looked into rooms to rent. Then my stubborn streak kicked in. I had made commitments, which I didn’t take likely. I started to consider that besides joining my ex, I would also be close to my parents and once again have access to my original karate dojo. It motivated me to take the leap and leave Ottawa behind. Being back in New Brunswick posed all the same issues and worse than we had in Ottawa, however. I should have had the foresight to recognize that none of it was healthy and walked away but I didn’t.

We reached the finish line and got married. This only brought forth further issues that became aggravated by expectations due to the permanence that marriage brought. When I returned to New Brunswick, my management position at the pharmacy was no longer available and I returned to an old haunts: McDonald’s. Although I was given a management position there, it didn’t pay well and I was struggling with getting through my RCMP application process as well, which led to absences and less money, which aggravated problems further. Wash, rinse and repeat.

There’s an extremely important side story to this entire journey, which took place during the period I was back home before joining the Force. I’m acknowledging it because it was an integral piece of the story that helped open my eyes to what could be. But I won’t get into the details of that chapter as it isn’t JUST my story to tell and would take focus away on what I’m currently writing about. Suffice it to say that outside circumstances woke me to the fact that my marriage was over and had to come to an end.

We started talking about what we would do and the results that would ensue. We gave it the ol’ college try and tried working through some issues but the nail in the coffin was when I was reaching the end of the RCMP application and looked very promising that I would get in and she started listing all the Provinces and places she WOULDN’T go. I tried explaining that my choice in the matter would be quite limited, a fact she should have known as she had applied to the Mounties herself but had failed the exams. It would be the point of contention that would ultimately end us.

When I finally got the call to step up and serve the people of Canada, there was really only one answer i could give. In early April of 2009, I was signed up as a cadet with Troop 5 at the RCMP Training Academy in Regina, Saskatchewan. My ex brought me to the Moncton Airport, as this was the departure point the RCMP chose for me. During my wait at the airport, my ex confessed that she had gotten me there and was seeing me off, but based on how our relationship had been going and certain external factors, she likely wouldn’t be here when I got back. I accepted that as a positive first step in a new chapter of my life.

The next six months were a tumultuous mixture of intensive training mixed with separation dealings. By the time I had graduated from Depot and made my way home, my clothing, personal possessions and car were waiting at my parents’ house. I took post in late October of 2009 and never looked back. Once we reached that 1-year mark, we filed for divorce, which went uncontested on either side. With no children or marital property to dispute, it was a clean break and allowed me to forge a new life. As usual, I have no regrets.

Some folks would easily argue that it was a difficult road, one that I should have recognized I had no business being on, and walked away sooner. Maybe. Some of the things she put me through were rough and unpleasant but ultimately, had she not pushed me to make more money and in fact, she’s the one who encouraged my application with the RCMP, I wouldn’t be where I am today. A prime example of how all things happen for a reason.

The effects of that failed relationship continue to guide certain choices in my life, even now. I’m stronger, more firm in my beliefs and opinions and had that chain of events never taken place, I wouldn’t have met my wife. My children wouldn’t exist. So many life events would never have happened and I wouldn’t have the positive life I have now. As with all things in life, there’s always a balance; despite the negativity that relationship involved, it evoked many of the positive elements in my life that I now enjoy. So there you have it. A bit deeper insight into the Blogging Buddhist. Hopefully, this post didn’t put you to sleep. ☯️

Learn To Be Still…

Sensei has always told me that I have two ears and only one mouth, so I should listen twice as much as I talk. I think he got that from someone else and he was mostly trying to get me to shut the hell up in karate class, a feat that is impressive, in and of itself. After all, getting me to be quiet is difficult on the best of days, even in controlled environments. But there’s something to be said for learning to be still and quiet. After all, those are important factors required for effective meditation. But even more importantly, they’re required for everyday life.

Being quiet allows others to speak and express themselves. by doing this, you can get to the root of the message that others are trying to impart. This usually doesn’t happen if one is flapping one’s jaws. This is a lesson I wish I had learned early on in my career. Maybe I would have learned more than I did or allowed others to have chances that were only prevented by the fact I didn’t listen as deeply as I should have. One will never know.

If you’re in a leadership role, being silent can allow your team to express themselves and provide insight without being clouded by your view. Time has proven that once a leader has spoken, their team will usually formulate their own opinion by what the leader has said. This is referred to as being “yes-men.” Allowing others to speak first will engender creativity, brain-storming and ACTUAL thought as opposed to blind agreeing. If you quiet your mind along with your voice, you have a better chance at finding peace and balance. It’ll also allow your thoughts to bring you to better and more positive conclusions and better outcomes.

In a world of constant stress and fast-moving lifestyles, learn to be still. It will help reduce that stress and slow down that lifestyle. That’s something everyone needs. And in doing so, one can begin to reduce the amount of suffering within one’s life, which is kind of my jam. And helping to eliminate one’s own suffering allows for one to help eliminate suffering in others. Kind of important if we expect any of that world peace stuff everyone keeps talking about. So, learn to listen. Learn to be still. Food for thought… ☯️

The Photos Not Taken…

We live in an unfortunate world where if you accidentally burp in a public place, there’s a good chance some wangless douchebag caught it on their phone and uploaded to whatever social media platform they’re trying to get free stuff on. I sometimes feel extremely grateful to have grown up during a period of society where not EVERYTHING was documented by every person who walks by, where if someone is having a genuine emergency and needs help, people are running for a phone to call for help and actually contribute to that help instead of whipping out their cell phone.

Despite my love/hate opinions in how society conducts itself, one significant benefit of the age we live in, is the fact that our technology allows us the benefit of the very thing I’m complaining about. For example, if my toddler does some adorable, destructive thing, like beat the shit out of his brother who’s literally twice his age and size, I can capture the memory in seconds. This makes for a rich book of memories that I can look back on, years from now and remember. I still have nights where I look through my photos and videos and reminisce about my first day watching cartoons with Nathan when he was born, or the day he slipped into a horse stance and downward block.

I imagine all the times in my life that would be wonderful to look back on and reminisce. My parents made a point of taking photos of me here and there but there are pinnacle moments in my life that were never documented. My first steps, my first time riding a bike… Getting my black belt. So many times that documenting the event would have been great. I think of all the times my father and I went swimming in the forest or hiking, biking long distances together or even watching the latest Star Trek movie… It’s the photos not taken that we regret the most. But the important thing to remember, if one CAN remember, is the memory.

There are plenty of times in my life that I’m grateful weren’t documented. But it’s the photos not taken that I wish I had. I imagine if I could have had a photograph of my brother and I, in the week before he went into the hospital for the last time. Imagine that? I have everything in my mind, focused and clear. But they’re memories that I’ll ever only be able to share with others in word or written form. It’s like someone who looks through a family album and asks where the dad is; chances are, he’s the one taking all the photographs.

Enjoy the memories you make. It isn’t by staring through the lens of a camera that you’ll make those memories; it’s by experiencing them. Do I have photos of every family trip or important milestone in my life? No, but that means I got to LIVE them. That’s what’s important in life. one of the greatest experiences in my life was travelling to Japan and Okinawa. I have TONS of photos and videos of that trip. Know why? because Sensei loved me enough to document the entire trip for me. because he’d been there a dozen times before and wanted me to experience it. It’s a lesson one needs to realize. It can’t be taught. Food for thought… ☯️

Eyes On The Prize…

We often hear that we live in a world of increasing technology. Realistically, I would be more inclined to say that we live in a world of EVER-changing technology, with the face of the world changing constantly with it. One of the big things that have changed for the worst, is how society has become more immersed in its technology than the biological world around it. I’ve written about this on a few occasions. Kind of hard not to, with almost 1,500 posts… If I didn’t start repeating myself at some point, we’d have a problem. But the biggest example of this phenomenon includes people who suddenly have an opinion or decide they can argue by virtue of the fact that they’re protected by the other side of their device.

But likely the one that’s even worse than being an armchair warrior with an over-inflated sense of self, are the phone zombies. You know the ones, they’re the people who walk around in public places, on the street, in businesses and everywhere, while staring down at their phone instead of watching the world around them. Although I’d love to blame the technology, people are usually pretty ignorant of their surroundings, in general. I have a bit of a biased outlook on this, since police and martial arts training have a tendency of making one significantly aware of one’s surroundings. The average person does not seem to have ability. Or care to learn.

For the most part, people in public places will be fixated on their own goals and destination and will usually ignore anything or anyone in their path. Not only is this incredibly dangerous, but it’s also incredibly ignorant. There’s nothing worse than walking down an aisle somewhere, only to have some jack-ass nearly take out my ankles with their shopping cart. Or having them stop right in front of me and block my way and when I clear my throat and they’ll literally turn and look at me and make eye contact, just to go back to what they were doing. Then, I might even push it further and say “Excuse me,” which goes completely ignored, as well.

Now folks, I am about as far from perfect as one can get. In fact, I could bet really good money that I’ve inadvertently gotten in someone’s way or blocked their path. But when someone points it out and asks to be let by, for the love of the light, people! Get. The Fuck. Out. Of the way! Needless to say, there’s also the aspect that paying attention to one’s surroundings and being considerate of others could potentially save one’s life. If someone intends to do you harm, where do you think your best chance of surviving lies? By having your eyes up and seeing the threat coming? Or having your head down in your phone, updating your Twitter-Tik-Face-gram-chat?

It’s important to be aware of one’s surroundings. For your safety, the safety of others and last but certainly not least, to have one’s eyes on the vast, wonderful world around you. Life comes down to the things we experience, not the screens we stare at. If you spend your whole life staring at a screen, life will quickly pass you by. Food for thought… ☯️

A Little Water Goes A Long, Long Way…

Years ago, I had the opportunity to participate in a a fun weekend the likes of which I had never experienced before and haven’t quite experienced since. I’m talking the weekend I canoed down the Restigouche River. By the time I had reached my teens, I had the opportunity to camp overnight in commercial campgrounds and do SOME things outside, but I had never truly experienced the outdoors and surviving on my own until I had the opportunity to paddle down the river with one of my oldest and dearest friends. He likely won’t be reading this so I can flip some shit about him but I’ll mostly be focusing on our first trip down the river.

When my friend first suggested this trip, it was described as a 3-day ordeal of paddling and exposure to the elements. I wasn’t quite on board, especially since it would involve missing some karate classes but he finally convinced me. My friend’s family owned a rental company so we had the benefit of getting the canoe, supply barrels and various equipment for free. His mother took both our wallets with the thought that if we lost it in the river, we’d be screwed. As good a thought as that was, at the time, reflection on that aspect decades later tells me that if something had happened to us on the river, authorities would have had no way to identify our bodies. But it all worked out, so I guess I digress…

We were driven north-west by one of my friend’s sisters and dropped off at a launching site. The adventure started when we realized that we would be hit by a solid bout of rain before we got on the river. I foolishly thought that we would throw in the towel but my friend pointed out that it would be pretty silly to sacrifice 3 days of fun on the river for a little rain. I agreed and we cast off. Although we immediately got drenched by the rain, we had a blast. We paddled for a number of hours before we found a spot on the river that was out of water and safe enough to set up camp for the night.

Restigouche River, taken from Wikipedia

We got a fire going, set up the tent and had an hour of quiet reflection as we chatted and snacked on the side of a river. The following morning, we shared the chores of getting the camp taken down as well as making a makeshift breakfast in a cast iron pan over a roaring campfire. It was a fantastic morning. We even had a forest ranger come visit and chat with us over coffee for while. No devices, no internet, no distractions. Nothing but good conversation and the open river.

We took to the water early on and started paddling down. We arrived at a part of the river where there was a deep, clear pool of water. We parked the canoe and tied it off and got in the water and floated down river in our life jackets for a bit. We were able to see so many freshwater salmon rushing around us. It was a fantastic experience. We set up camp for the second time that afternoon and spent some time swimming, laughing, signing A Cappella and enjoying the silent peace of the wilderness. It made me wonder why I had never done anything of this sort before. Then, I remembered that I was a Type-1 Diabetic and my parents were paranoid and shielded me from life. But I digress.

We reached the shores of Atholville, which meant that my friend’s family would be around to pick us up shortly. We were dehydrated, exhausted but happy. Our 3-day transit was a combination of intense exercise from the paddling and being in the elements. Packing up the canoe and our equipment almost felt like a tedious endeavour and took forever. That ride back into town felt surreal; like being in the civilized world was something we had left behind. But it didn’t take long for us to get back to my friend’s Apartment where a hunger the likes of which I haven’t felt in forever took hold.

It was hard getting back to normal after that. A few years later, we would follow-up with a second trip down the river. It’s fantastic fun. I highly recommend enjoying some time in the forest where you ACTUALLY have some time to connect with nature and disconnect from modern life. It’s been a couple of decades since those two river trips and all the fun we had. Maybe sometime ion the near future, I’l need to find a way to introduce my sons to that same level of peace and nature. ☯️