Category: Motivation

I Want To Live…

I want to live. Makes sense, right? Most people do. Most people have the opportunity. Not many people fight for that privilege. And I know what you’re thinking…. Why should someone have to fight for the privilege of living? Well, I don’t mean fighting for the privilege of staying alive because of oppression, war or famine. I mean fighting for the privilege to live against something that came to be, completely out of one’s control. If none of you have guessed that I’m talking about Diabetes at this point, let me clarify: I’m talking about Diabetes.

One of the best things about living in modern times, is that Diabetes is no longer an automatic death sentence. If you were diagnosed with Diabetes prior to the creation and distribution of insulin, that was pretty much it. I’ve written posts about how long a Type-1 can survive without insulin, even if they completely eliminate carbohydrates and continue to exercise. So I won’t get into that part, since that’s not what this post is about. Needless to say, insulin isn’t JUST about lowering blood sugar levels.

People have often asked me why I push so hard when I exercise, or why I do so much. I’ve had folks commenting on the fact that by the time I’ve completed a workout, I look like a wet cat who got stuck in the rain. Sometimes, it’s can be belittling or condescending; as though they’re suggesting that I shouldn’t be a sweaty mess in a public place where other folks can see. It’s almost akin to those who make fun of an overweight person in the gym for trying to get in shape. Granted, not EXACTLY the same, but the concept is the similar.

I learned from a very young age that Diabetes would show me no quarter. If I let up my guard, even for a day or two, it would find a way to swoop in and make my life difficult. Maybe this difficulty would come in the form of high or low blood sugars, which typically fuck with my entire day. Or maybe it would simply make me more susceptible to illness and make my day-to-day interactions all the more dangerous. Or perhaps it’ll take something simple like stubbing one’s toe and turn it into an automatic, infected toenail. Just because it can. Diabetes shows no mercy because it has no emotion.

Fitness is an important part of ANYONE’s lifestyle. It’s no secret that someone who doesn’t exercise regularly will face a host of health problems too numerous to list here. But staying fit and active is an important part of life and all the more so for someone with Diabetes. Again, from a young age I recognized this, especially in light of my doctors telling me I’d die due to Diabetes complications before I reached my teens (I’m now well into my forties, in case you were wondering).

I guess where I’m going with this is that there are a number of different reasons to work out and go to the gym. Some people want to get fit, some want to get muscular and some want to lose weight. hell, some people go to the gym simply to be social and see certain key people they may associate with. And that’s fine. At the end of the day, whatever your reasons for training consistently will never be bad. Anything will always be something more than nothing. My point is you’ll be able to easily discern who’s training to get fit and who’s training to save their lives.

That’s what I do. I train in order to save my life. I train because if I don’t, Diabetes complications will reach me all the sooner and take away something that I need in order to live. That’s why I’ll spend an entire hour on a cardio machine at a high level and end up soaked and breathing hard. That’s why I rarely take break days or rest days. Diabetes never takes a rest, so why should I? I push myself because I’m trying to stay ahead of a condition that will ultimately end my life, despite all the therapies, despite all the available resources and despite all my efforts.

And that’s the ultimate punchline of my existence. This is a race against time and a race against a condition that I will inevitably succumb to, despite my best efforts. But like trying to outrun an oncoming tornado, I have to try. I need to give it my all because I refuse to let it take me down. I have too much to live for. I owe it to myself and to those who matter in my life. I’m fighting against complications. I’m fighting against organ failure. I’m fighting against death. Besides, I’m well aware that there are those who push and train harder than me, anyway. But my efforts are mine and mine alone.

So, the next time you see me breathing hard at the gym, it doesn’t mean I’m “out of shape” or new to working out. When you see me walking away from a machine looking drenched like an alley cat left out in the rain, it isn’t because I couldn’t handle the exercise I was doing or I was doing too much. It’s because I’m fighting for my life. And if you don’t come out of that fight bloody and covered in sweat, you’re not really fighting. And you will lose. Ask yourself why YOU do it. No matter what your reason, you should never judge someone’s efforts or appearance when trying to better themselves. Whether it’s someone trying to get slimmer or fitter or someone who is simply trying to prolong his life long enough to see his children into adulthood. Food for thought… ☯️

A Special Belated Birthday

I spend a lot of time online and with my nose buried in books, looking up the various knowledge and materials that I use in my posts. But I often overlook some pretty important and key dates that SHOULD hold a special place in my martial arts journey, One of those dates was yesterday. While doing some research for a post, I brought up Google’s home page and noticed Google’s banner was adorned with some martial arts imagery of a dojo, practitioners in white gis, and an image of Master Jigoro Kano in the centre.

It was a clever rendition and looked nice, but considering Google frequently changes their home page banner, I thought nothing further of it. That’s a shame, because yesterday’s post really should have focused on Master Kano’s 161st birthday, which is why Google had it up. It also dawned on me, a touch too late, that this is usually WHY Google will put something up; to recognize a special day. But I digress…

Master Jigoro Kano

For those of you who don’t operate within martial arts circles, Master Kano was the founder of Judo. Even non-practitioners are usually familiar with that term. His efforts and teachings can be recognized and remembered as being the first Japanese martial arts to use the coloured belt system employed by most Japanese and Okinawan arts, as well as many others. He was a teacher by trade, which I have no doubt would help with teaching the martial arts, and contributed to Judo being taught in public schools.

Master Kano had originally studied Jujutsu while studying in university, long before it would make it’s way across the globe and everyone would only recognize “Brazilian Jujitsiu,” which is a combination of the two aforementioned arts. He eventually began to surpass his teachers and developed his own system, naming it Judo, which means “plainly” and “the way.” Master Kano also established the Kodokan, which is his Judo institute in Japan. I had the honour of visiting this facility in 2001. It was inspiring.

Although I consider myself a karate practitioner, Sensei also holds a black belt in Judo and incorporated a lot of Master kano’s teachings into our system. Through the decades, many of the holds, pressure points and throws taught in Judo were also taught to us. That’s why our school is called the New England Academy of Karate & Judo.

A happy, belated birthday to the late Master Kano. He may no longer be with us, but his legacy has obviously endured long after his passing and will continue on. In fact, judo was the first Japanese martial art to be included in the Olympics. It makes one wonder if he ever thought, all those decades ago, just how far his teachings would reach…☯️

A Little Motivation…

This is one of those instances where I’m keeping the post short in the interest of simply sharing a little motivation. I found this little paragraph online somewhere and as per usual, I can’t seem to recall where I did. I’m sure one could find it, if one chose to Google and search a bit but I’m more interested in the thought behind it than the source. Here it is…

“You Can Rise Up From Anything.
You Can Completely Recreate Yourself.
Nothing Is Permanent.
You’re Not Stuck. You Have Choices.
You Can Think New Thoughts.
You Can Learn Something New.
You Can Create New Habits.
All That Matters Is That You Decide Today
And You Never Look Back.”

I like this. It’s simple and concise, straight to the point. It’s shown as “anonymous,” so I honestly don’t know the source, but I think it speaks to the fact that it’s important to remember that life rarely cares about one’s plan. Despite that fact, one can fight and get through just about anything, so long as you give it the effort it deserves. When faced with suffering and adversity, people often give up, throw in the towel and curl into a little ball and cry. Some may even choose to lose themselves in some rather unfortunate indulgences. But these are usually only a temporary escape and never a solution.

We all have it within us to reinvent ourselves. This is not to say that you shouldn’t stick to your guns if you’re happy with who and where you are. But if you’re NOT happy, then you owe it to yourself and to those you love to fight through and make a change. It may be rough waters to navigate, but once you clear it and see the shore, it’ll be a better life. A happier life. Food for thought… ☯️

Metaphysical Battles

We live in a world of entitlement. As technology grows and continues to make our lives easier, people have become complacent and demand that more things be provided and done for them instead of doing it themselves. And even when these things ARE done for them, they have a tendency to be displeased no matter what the outcome. If “A” is provided, they’ll demand that “B” be provided as well. Once “A” and “B” have been provided, they’ll complain that providing “C” wasn’t thought of and provided automatically.

If nothing was provided, they’d complain that nothing was. This is a pretty rudimentary and unspecific example, but an accurate portrayal of the direction that society as a whole is taking. Another good example is the meme I recently saw online where someone explained that social media is like comparing apples to oranges and there will always be SOMEONE who gets offended by the comparison and then accuse the writer of being ignorant because they never bothered to mention bananas and pears in their comparison. And all the while, all parties concerned seek validation and entitlement, never understanding that anything in life worth having won’t come without personal sacrifice, cost and effort.

Laziness is insidious and can cause significant damage in one’s life. If I look at myself, as a Diabetic, laziness will cause increased health problems and complications and could potentially lead to death. So, what about those who aren’t Diabetic? Laziness can lead to the same result, albeit maybe a touch slower. As I’ve often written before, the basic formula to a happy, healthy life is threefold. Energy creates life. Life requires movement. Movement promotes energy. You need all three of those factors in a continued cycle in order to live well.

If someone decides to eliminate movement and becomes a couch potato, their energy will become stagnant, they’ll become prone to illness, gain weight, and face a number of physical complications including but not limited to, blood pressure issues, circulatory issues and cardiac issues. Not least of which is the psychological impact that laziness has on a person. One’s mood and overall mental well-being depends on staying active, going to work, spending time outdoors and making a conscious effort.

Where am I going with all of this? Well, besides the aspect of staying healthy, both physically and psychologically, one needs to consider that life owes you nothing. You are entitled to NOTHING. Read that last sentence again, because it’s important. Although I have no illusions of being able to change the entire world’s perspective through a blog post, I think it’s important to acknowledge that life doesn’t care about one’s plan and a big part of one’s personal suffering generally comes from one’s own doing. Or undoing.

Let’s say you’ve been out of work for a period of time, a scenario I feel many people can relate to, considering COVID-19 has sent many people home for a variety of reasons (I miss the days where I didn’t have to reference COVID-19, constantly). Now, you’re in need of a new job. Although there can be some appeal to staying at home and letting your head cool and consider your options, life won’t get better and a job won’t magically land in your lap by staying on the couch watching your favourite re-runs of the Price is Right. The only way to accomplish anything is to shake the laziness off and step out into the light and make it happen for yourself.

I’m a little bit jaded and biased because I’m like a pit bull. When I’m faced with difficulty, I fight like a dying warrior and don’t stop until I’ve reached my goal. But imagine how much further humanity would be if everyone fought this way? Instead of having a sense of entitlement and thinking the world owes you something, step up to life, toe-to-toe and fight it out on your own terms. It may not necessarily mean you’ll succeed, but at least you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing your tried your best. Instead of sitting on the couch crying like an infant. Food for thought…

There are always battles to be fought, in life. I’ve always been a proponent that fighting should always be a last resort, but I’ve ALWAYS meant in the context of a physical altercation. The battles we fight in life may be required to make things better. Especially in light of the fact that better things will never happen on their own. You gotta want it. And own it. I recently purchased a wooden-framed quote by Theodore Roosevelt that I find fitting. I’ll share it in the photo below. Good luck! ☯️

Shisa: Under The Watchful Eyes Of Okinawan Guardian Dogs…

I’ve been exposed to Japanese culture a great deal throughout my life; a byproduct of studying Okinawan karate for 33 years. And yes, I can easily say that there are important differences between Japanese and Okinawan, but for the sake of this post, we’ll lump them in together. After all, all Okinawans are Japanese but not all Japanese are Okinawans. Moving on… During my youth, I had the opportunity to be exposed to, and study, some of the Okinawan culture long before I actually travelled there. And one of the first things I was exposed to was Shisa dogs.

The year was 1996 and I was about to graduate from high school. It was as tumultuous time for me, since I had no idea what direction my life was taking and no clue as to what I wanted to do with myself. I was starting college in the fall at the insistence of my parents, even though I was being thrust into a program I didn’t want (computer programming). All I knew at the time was that I was at the peak of my martial arts skills and I wanted to continue to study THAT. This is something that would be made difficult by the fact that I would be living an hour away for school. But Sensei and I worked it out and we agreed on a training schedule that would accommodate my needs.

I stopped by his house on graduation night, since his son Guillaume was my best friend and would be graduating as well. While I was waiting for Guillaume to come down the stairs, Sensei approached me with a small bundle and handed it to me. “For you,” was all he said. In his usual custom of keeping things simple, he handed me a small, black trash bag that was knotted at the top. I could tell there were moving parts inside, but little else. I asked him if I cold open it immediately, to which he replied I should. I tore open the bag to find two small porcelain Shisa dogs inside.

I’ve had them ever since, and it allowed me to study their origins and purpose. Bear in mind that dial-up internet was barely a thing at that point, so my research had to be genuine and hands-on. But I managed. I learned some interesting things along the way. For example, some refer to them as lions and some refer to them as dogs. Sensei always called them dogs and by virtue of that, I’ve always referred to them as dogs, as well.

The Shisa dogs I keep at home

The pair fo dogs Sensei gave me for graduation are simple porcelain and semi hollow. I keep those at my office, since they’re smaller 9about the size of tennis balls) and fit on my office’s windowsill. The ones pictured above are the ones I purchased myself in Okinawa and are about the size of candle-pin bowling balls (the ones without the finger holes). The ones above are made of soap-stone and are quite heavy. I foolishly purchased them in a shop in Naha on Okinawa. Sensei nearly lost his mind when he saw them, considering my suitcase was quite full.

These dogs originate from China and actually have Buddhist origins. They usually come in pairs and stand guard on rooftops or at doorways/gateways. They be standing forward or off to the side (as pictured above) but the mouths are always facing outward. The thought is that the open-mouth dog (on the right) is roaring to ward off evil spirits while the closed-mouth dog is inviting the friendly spirits. What’s nice with the ones pictured above, is that there’s no mistaking which dog goes on which side.

Since these dogs were brought in from China before Okinawa became part of mainland Japan, their introduction was separate in the two places. The Okinawans use Shisa dogs in their day-to-day culture and you’ll see them in front of most buildings, including temples, homes and businesses. They’re basically the equivalent of gargoyles. Just an interesting part of the culture I’ve had the opportunity to enjoy during my martial arts journey. ☯️

Bravery And Fear may Not Be Separate

Everyone likes hearing tales and stories of bravery or knowing someone they consider to be brave. In those situations, most people would utter phrases like, “they’re SO brave…” and “I’d never be able to do THAT! I’d be too afraid…” And the latter is particular, because most people seem to associate bravery with the lack of fear and this is about as incorrect a thought as one could have. Being brave or displaying bravery doesn’t mean that one isn’t afraid. Let’s dive in, shall we?

Let’s start with my preferred habit, which is to define what is is I’m talking about. Merriam-Webster’s dictionary defines “bravery” as, “the quality or state of having or showing mental or moral strength to face danger, fear or difficulty.” A pretty straightforward definition, but I want to point out a certain aspect of that definition that sticks out and digs to root of what I’m getting at today. The definition by no means indicates the absence of fear. It does, however, define it as being strong enough to confront one’s fears. And THAT is the important difference.

To be brave doesn’t mean that you aren’t afraid. fear is a normal and expected response to something that is worrisome, stressful or dangerous. It by no means suggests that if you’re afraid that you can’t be brave. Bravery (or valour) kicks in when you make the decision to confront that danger despite that fear. This can apply to a significant number of aspects of ones life, including work, interpersonal relationships, medical situations… hell, just stepping out the door in the morning. Some folks have something called Agoraphobia, which is the fear of spaces outside the home.

But if one can find it within themselves to do a thing regardless of the fear it incites, this would be bravery. Not the absence of the fear itself but the ability to confront or embrace it. Some good examples I can provide would include in 2015, when I started getting my eye injections. I don’t think I need to explain that the prospect of having someone slide a needle into my eyeball with the intentions of injection a medication into it definitely had my lizard brain saying, “Nope. Not happening. get us the fuck outta here…” Obviously, the prospect of eventually going blind outweighed my fear and I confronted it, and I continue to get these injections every seven to eight weeks.

In the beginning, I had plenty of people commenting and telling me how brave I was for going through that and that they’d never be able to, because they’d be too afraid. Bloody hell, you think I WASN’T afraid??? I sit through something that’s usually reserved as a bad scene out of a horror movie. Of course, I’m afraid. But I confront that fear. The result is that I come out of it with a maintained ability to see clearly, which allows me to do the little everyday things like retain the privilege of operating a motor vehicle and doing my work without special accommodation.

Another good example is testing for black belt. I’ve always trained very hard in karate. I’ve always been confident in my knowledge and abilities in karate. By that logic, testing for black belt shouldn’t have been an issue. But I would be outright lying if I said that I wasn’t scared shitless in the days leading up to the test. But I knew that if I wanted to continue my education in the martial arts that I had to take the added step. The result is that I was able to continue on my martial arts path, start teaching and continue this education, even today.

Granted, the inherent danger associated with those things are passive. Think about a firefighter who rushes into a burning building to save someone trapped inside. Do you think for one second that they aren’t scared? The fear is very real and the danger associated with it is very real, as well. Every time a police officer performs a traffic stop, there’s always a fear that they may be confronting someone violent and dangerous. There’s a CONSTANT fear. But they do it anyway. Now, this is the other end of the stick, of course. But the concept still stands.

Bravery doesn’t mean you aren’t afraid. It simply means that you find the strength within yourself to confront those fears and do it anyway. That’s where you’ll start to notice that you can accomplish far more in life. And you’ll be happier. No one wants to be controlled by their fears. And everyone can be brave. All it takes is the strength to step out that door the first time. And once you do, taking it one step at a time. ☯️

Letting Sleeping Ghosts Lie…

So, my October 13 celebration/grieving was a bust… My wife warned me that this would happen. Another testament to how one should always listen to one’s spouse. Typically, I would have a home office in which I could write, stream some shows and be alone with my thoughts. This usually allows me to reflect and think back on my past experiences and what has brought me here. This year, since our basement isn’t completed, I had nowhere to go besides our living room. And that seemed to fall short for what I’ve usually done in the past.

Once supper was served, I was able to coax my son Nathan with the promise of holding on to his device if he completed a couple of homework tasks on it first. He agreed I got him squared away in his room with water and snack. Check. The youngest, however… Our evenings are typically on the quieter side since Alexander is usually pretty calm when his older brother Nathan isn’t in the picture. But for some reason, either because there was a full moon I was aware of or some stars aligned against me, or perhaps we can simply go with my usual belief that life doesn’t care about one’s plan, he was a roiling Tasmanian Devil of energy and was destroying everything in sight.

By the time we managed to get him to actually go to bed, I was physically and emotionally exhausted (not from him) and just wanted to go to bed. Which I did. Like an old man. Then I slept for over 11 hours, leaving behind the last instance of celebrating the day I completed basic training and took to the field. I’d like to say it was a restful sleep, but I woke up the next morning feeling as though I had been struck by a freight train. This is a testament to the fact that one can potentially sleep TOO long.

I did get one silver lining on Wednesday, which came in the form of an old troop mate reaching out to me: Randy Tabada. Y’all may remember Tabada, if you read the post I wrote back in February of 2020. If you didn’t, you can read it here. Tabada was a member of my troop during basic training. Our bunks were across the aisle from one another and he was one of the few select people from our troop that I actually spent time with, outside of the training environment. When he came back to Regina in February of 2020 to take some courses at the academy, I had the opportunity to share a meal and fond memories with him.

It was wonderful to get his phone call and reconnect with him. We discussed a number of outstanding issues that we’ve both been facing and we agreed how it was a little sad that out of a troop of 32, neither of us really had contact with anyone besides each other. I recall making an effort to reach out to everybody prior to our 10-year anniversary with the intention of organizing a reunion. I sent out a feeler email to see who would be amenable to getting together. The negative response was almost unanimous, which was a little sad.

At the end of the day, I didn’t get to observe my special day the way I would have chosen. Such is life. Although my intention is to rediscover myself and find out who I am outside of my previous career, I knew there wouldn’t be some climactic revelation or fireworks involved. But given that I’m now a veteran, it would have been nice to reminisce in my own way, one last time. Especially since my intention is to prohibit Fireball (or most other forms of alcohol) from ever entering this house again. I’m a veteran. It feels weird to say. It’s a title I usually always associated with my grandfather, but one that I’ll carry with pride. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to step out into the world and discover who I am. Or rather, who I may become…☯️

Be In The Now…

It’s important in life to recognize that life exists only in the immediate moment. That makes it equally important to live in that moment. I found a meme online that got me thinking about all of this and it went a little something like this. Bear with me, as I’m translating indirectly from French…

“If you want to be sad, live in the past.”
“If you want to be worried or anxious, live in the future.”
“If you want to be in peace, live in the present.”

This is not mine and to be honest, it was a meme and I can’t source it. I’m sure I could research it and try to figure out where it came from, but unlike providing information on something Diabetes-related as I often do, I don’t believe it’s necessary for the message I’m trying to convey. And just to be clear, this doesn’t mean one shouldn’t be PREPARED or PLAN for things. It simply means that your thoughts and your essence shouldn’t exist outside fo the immediate moment.

This is where you are. This is where you exist. To allow yourself to live outside of that context brings suffering. And that’s the last thing you need. Take the time to appreciate where you are. Soak in the environment. Take on the scents and sounds of your life. And take note that if any of those aspects don’t make you happy, you have an inherent responsibility to do something about it. ☯️

Let It Go And Let There Be Light…

In 2009, I closed up shop on life as I knew it. I closed my karate dojo, quit my job and left my friends and family to pursue a life-long dream and come out to Saskatchewan to start a new career. Basic training was tough, but despite several different types of adversity I made it through with flying colours and started the journey I thought would last the rest of my life. Today is the anniversary of the start of that journey. For years, I’ve observed a tradition on this day that involves toasting to my brothers and sisters.

This toast would take the form of one shot of Fireball for every year of service I had accumulated. The first few years were reasonably okay and it was a nice way of recognizing my comrades and celebrating without being able to be with them. After all, we were posted all over the country, so doing anything specific is difficult. But right around the fifth year of celebrating this day as a personal holiday, it started to get a little bit tough. I don’t think I need to explain that having five shots of Fireball whiskey in a row makes for a bit of a rough night.

Despite that fact, every year I’ve stubbornly held out. All the way to ten years, where over the course of a few hours, I would celebrate by taking ten shots. Is anybody else’s liver hurting yet? Needless to say, the following year I needed to find a different means of celebrating. But this year, things are different. In April, I started a new job. For the first time in my life, I have a permanent home. My children were born here in Saskatchewan. My wife is from Saskatchewan. The memories and experiences I’ve gathered during a decade and a half of being out here far outweigh any of the difficulties I’ve faced in recent years.

So I’ve decided that this year is the last time. Time to move forward with life. Memories and experience are simply that and how can one be expected to move forward if one is constantly reminded of what was lost, right? It’s been difficult to ignore that the rough seas I’ve been navigating over the past three years were out of my control, caused by someone else and even without any measurable benefit to the party in question. Some people just like to watch the world burn. But if I don’t let go of my hate and start moving forward, all it will do is contributed to my own suffering, which if you haven’t been paying attention, the elimination of suffering is kind of my jam.

So here’s to my brothers and sisters. I hope you all stay safe out there and continue to fight the good fight. My fight is not over, it’ll simply be in a different arena. Time to find out who I am outside the uniform and pursue new dreams. Time to find some peace. ☯️

Embracing My Inner Nerd…

I don’t know if the term “nerd” is still widely-used or not. I know that for a while, being a nerd was cool. It sure as hell wasn’t when i went through school. Regardless of the term’s current standing, I’m quite proud of my inherent ability to absorb and process information, and the fact that I was always a little more on the cerebral side than some of my peers. So please accept my humble apologies if referring to myself or others as a nerd offends anyone. That isn’t the way it’s intended, but this is the way of the new world; normal things will often offend. That’s all I’ll say about that. Moving on…

I got my first taste of superhero lore when I was barely five years old, when my father sat with me and we watched the original Superman movie that was released in 1978. Ironically, only three months after I was born. But we didn’t get to watch it until it was released on video cassette (the predecessor to DVD’s, for you young’uns). I remember being fascinated by what I was seeing; a man who could fly, shoot beams from his eyes and couldn’t be physically harmed…. Superman has set the standard against which most superheroes are held.

I spent my youth collecting comic books, reading traditional books and delving deeply into the superhero genre. I was doing all of this through the years when Thanos was the antagonist in a comic line entitled “The Infinity Gauntlet,” which was followed by two sequels, “The Infinity War” and “The Infinity Crusade.” What we’ve seen in the MCU is based on The Infinity Gauntlet, even if they called it Infinity War. Despite exploring all these different stories and superheroes, Superman has always remained my favourite and despite differing reviews, I have loved ALL of the movies and series.

About a month ago, I decided to celebrate my birthday by walking into the value mall down the road and perusing a used book store. I sold off the remainder of my comic book collection a few years ago when i thought we might be moving and needed some extra cash so I was delighted when I came across a batch of graphic novels just sitting there in pristine condition. I decided that a fine gift to myself would be to allow the purchase of a few graphic novels to be read for leisure. I spend so much time reading and studying things, sometimes it’s nice to let your head cool and simply read something for fun.

This is where I got my hands on this little gem. For those of you who aren’t versed in comic lore (and I can admit that I no longer am), DC comics decided to refresh itself in 2011 and scrapped all its current existing title for their top characters and revamping them based on the outcome of a key storyline. They called it the New 52 and it saw a number of well-known characters be re-invented and have an altered appearance, altered power set and in some cases, slightly different origin story. I haven’t read a great deal of them, but I remember mixed reviews.

Most companies occasionally feel that change is good, especially if things have gotten stagnant or boring. But most of population don’t like someone messing with an old classic, like Superman. Despite that line of thinking, I have to say that I’m greatly enjoying this graphic novel. Without providing any spoilers, this storyline provide a look at a raw, rougher Superman who is at odds with the law and the status quo. Most importantly, he isn’t all-powerful and completely immune, which makes him more relatable as a hero to normal people, I think. If you haven’t been reading these, I highly recommend it as your next option. For fun, if nothing else.

I usually use my lunch hours at work to read. This is a good way to let my head cool, change gears and refresh myself before dealing with the afternoon. I usually bring a novel of some sort, science fiction or fantasy. I’m still reading the Wheel of Time. But this time around, it was good to revisit a familiar hero in a somewhat familiar environment and think back fondly to those warm, comfortable afternoons on the couch, watching Christopher Reeve show us that a man can fly. ☯️