Category: Motivation

Becoming The Patriarch, Part 9 (The Finale)

So, I’m going to end this travel series on the most positive note I possibly can. IN Sensei’ words and as I often write, for every negative, there is a positive; and vice versa. It’s been a rough week for me; dropping everything at the drop of a hat and travelling across the country to the East Coast to help my mother during a transition that I thought would never happen. Honestly, I always assumed she’d pass away before her mind went. But I walked away on Friday night confident in the fact that she’s safe, warm, sheltered and fed and has a great support system in place. In fact, I would have to go on record as saying I have the best fuckin’ family in the world. Part of me is thoroughly convinced that had they not intervened prior to my arrival, I would have been travelling out there to bury my mother instead of visiting her. But I digress… And I did say I would end this on a positive note.

The dark, foreboding roads of New Brunswick

As I wrote yesterday, Saturday morning saw me get up a few inches higher than the butt-crack of dawn and drive south on a dark, moose-infested highway from Northern New Brunswick and the City of Moncton. All in all, my travel day, if I include the driving (which I do), amounted to about 22 hours of total travel. Delayed departures threatened my ability to get home and flight changes at two different airports before touching down in Regina gave me a unique insight into the ignorance and undeserved self-entitlement that the general public seem to have when being in an airport terminal. But before I go off on some sort of negative tangent, I should probably get to the more positive aspects of my visit; of which there were many.

Taking care of a family comes with its fair share of responsibilities, which I’m sure I don’t need to tell any of you. When we usually travel out East, the opportunity to kick back and go out is pretty rare. This is mainly because my mother doesn’t have the constitution or control to deal with Nathan and Alexander, which means we limit our outings and interactions while in New Brunswick to a) what can be done during daylight hours and b) all together. The result is that I usually never get to see many of the friends and associates I still have in northern New Brunswick because most of them work day jobs and after supper, we’re winding the boys down and trying to get them to bed. From my side of things, it would be irresponsible and selfish of me to leave my wife with the boys in a random hotel room in a community she’s unfamiliar with, and take the only vehicle and say, “Have a god night, hun! I’m off to shoot pool and drink beer. See you later!” Dick move, imaginary me. Dick move.

Flight 1 of 3. Let’s go, already!

This is one of the only occasions in nearly a decade where I was able to touch base and reconnect with some folks I haven’t hung out with in years. And I even got to go see Sensei’s son’s new house, which he had been begging me to go see for years. I reconnected and shared meals with some family members and was introduced to the wonder that is pork loin (Thanks, Daniel!) and will likely be trying to make it myself. I got to enjoy brunch with an old high school friend and fellow karate practitioner. I got to shoot pool and enjoy a couple of pints of the elusive Alpine beer, of which there is none in Saskatchewan. And last but certainly not least, I got to spend several hours sitting in Sensei’s warm living room reliving old memories as he provided sage advice and wisdom, even without asking for it. This is Sensei’s way.

Contemplating life at 32,000 feet

in some ways, many ways, my mother has managed to teach me some valuable lessons through this entire process, as well. A part of me wants to share the image my aunt took of my mother’s emaciated form when she found her. She was on the brink of death and looked horrible. However, I don’t feel it would be respectful of me to expose my mother in such a private moment and it could be triggering or traumatic for some to see her that way. But the bottom line is my mother reached a point where she realized she no longer had anyone to take of and spent her days in silence. Alone and depressed, she gave up. It isn’t until family stepped up to start helping and being there, that she started to regain some constitution and start to get better. The way she appeared when I left on Friday was night and day compared to the photo I saw, only two weeks prior.

Guess who was happy to see me?

The bottom line is that we all need people. In whatever way, shape or form that takes holds for each of us, we need that in our lives. For my mother, she spent her entire life taking care of others. She spent two decades on a state of constant hyper-vigilance looking after my brother until he passed. Then, my father’s paralysis took hold and she took care of him until he signed himself into a care home. Finally, both my grandparents reached their end-of-life needs, which my mother provided for both. It isn’t until the past year or two where she’s had absolutely no one to take care of or look after. Years of constant stress and adrenaline have taken their toll, which contributed to her current state but the biggest caveat is that she couldn’t be alone. That’s what started to do her in…

Whether some of us choose to admit it or not, human beings are pack animals and we need others in order to survive. My mother was a clear example of this, as she is once again thriving. As much as a 75-year old woman who’s losing her memories can thrive, of course. But the lesson here and what I picked up during this trying week is that life is short. No matter what school of philosophy you adhere to or what you think happens in the afterlife, the life you’re in is but a flicker. At the snap of your fingers, it’s gone. So it’s important to live life and take the time to appreciate your family, loved ones and the important things in your life. This is an important lesson that I’ve always known but the rigours and stresses of life sometimes make one forget. It’s just unfortunate that my mother had to nearly die in order for me to remember.

The lesson was driven home (pun intended) the most as I disembarked from the final leg of my flight, at the airport in Regina. As I descended the escalator, I saw my wife and my two sons, patiently waiting for me to arrive. As I reached the bottom of the escalator, no act of God or man could have kept my redheaded little daredevil from plowing through large, adult crowds to plow into my arms. As shown from the last photo above, he was up as soon as I was, this morning and has been attached to me, ever since. I guess daddy’s home. Life eventually starts to take away more than it gives. That’s the inevitable secret of life. That’s why we need to enjoy the happy moments when we can, despite having them peppered with the sad ones. It’s the balance of life that means the difference between living, and just existing. Food for thought. And with that thought, I’ve got some life to go live. It’s good to be home. ☯️

Another Year, Another Year Spent…

October 13th is a pretty typical day fro most people… Falling somewhere after Thanksgiving (in Canada, mind you) and a couple of weeks before Halloween, it’s a pretty unassuming day that most people tend to consider just another day on the calendar. But for me and 27 other individuals, it’s a fixed point in the history of our lives that altered the course of who we are and what we’ve become. Today is the anniversary of when I was sworn in as a peace officer with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

I’ve always believed that it was important to live one’s life without regrets. I still believe that, despite the many hardships I’ve faced in recent years and the ones I continue to face now. Every once in a. While, an individual makes a decision that becomes a fixed point in their lives from which all subsequent decisions will stem from. Such was my decision to become a police officer and try to serve the people of my country and help those who can’t help themselves.

Starting with a troop of 32 and graduating with only 28, I never could have predicted how taking on this career path would change me, in some ways for the better and some for the worse. I also couldn’t have predicted that doing so would make Saskatchewan my new, permanent home and where I’d meet my wife and have my children. But here we are! I can look back with absolutely no regrets and nothing but fond memories of the training, the discipline and the camaraderie that was developed during those long months of training, which ultimately brought me to the here and now.

A few of my troop mates were also posted to Saskatchewan and we had started a tradition on our 1-year anniversary that I had sought to carry on. We joined up in a neutral city and toasted our time with a shot of Fireball. At two years, we did two shots. At three years we did three and so on and so forth… It was a wonderful tradition until I crossed the line into 10 years and it started to become dangerous. I’m not in my 20’s anymore; downing a dozen shots, even over the course of hours, doesn’t sit well with my system.

Considering I’ve all but cut out alcohol consumption completely, this may be the first year that I find a different means of celebrating and observing the day that subsequently set my path for me. Next to joining karate, the day I became a police officer is one of the most impactful of my life. And since I was too fuckin’ young at the time, I have no way of knowing EXACTLY what date I would have joined karate. But one can’t celebrate everything, right?

It’s been a few years since I’ve worn the uniform and my path has since moved beyond that aspect of my life. But the memory and impact it carries will stay with me forever. Policing in modern-day society poses its own unique set of risks and complications. As my grandfather would say, things aren’t like they used to be be. And that is so true. Policing and police officers in general, are no longer viewed with the same reverence and place of respect as they used to be. We have a number of factors to thank for that but that can be a potty for another time. For now, I’m going to absorb the day, immerse myself in some memories and be thankful for the time I had. I only pray my old troop mates are still out there, keeping us safe and being safe themselves. ☯️

Do You Really Need To Strike…?

If you’re talking about karate, the short is yes. Yes, you do. But is it really that’s black and white? I’m talking about the training environment, of course, not an actual fight. If you’re in an actual fight and you don’t strike your opponent, you’re in for a bit of a bad time. But even in those circumstances, there can often be alternatives. I bring this up today because, having been in my fair share of fights, both on the street and in the dojo, I know a little something about having to strike and in most cases, striking first to avoid getting injured.

I recently saw a meme online that quoted a Shorin-Ryu practitioner named Hiya Yuchoku. Yuchoku studied under a number fo well-known teachers, including Chojun Miyagi, who is known as the founder of Japanese Goju-Ryu. He was awarded his 10th degree in the late 1970’s, almost 20 years before his death in 1994. I’m never one to speak ill of the departed, especially such a revered martial artist. But I’m also quite leery of any quote that’s attributed to a source that is no longer around to confirm or deny what words they may have said. Here’s the quote I read:

“It’s not Karate if you interrupt the blow before contact. It is impossible to fight without the possibility of injury. Injuries are often inevitable.

Karate is essentially not fit for Tournaments. It is not feasible to make real Karate a competitive sport.”

– Hugs Yuchoku

There’s a lot to unpack in those two short, little paragraphs. For the most part, I tend to agree with the second paragraph. Karate was never intended to be a competitive sport. Although we do see karate tournaments, the spirit and intent of the art was never meant to score points or win trophies. I know that’s for myself, personally, I’ve never competed. Sensei doesn’t approve of such things and neither do I. My karate has always been about self-defence and the defence of others. But, to each their own, right?

What concerns me with the quote is the first paragraph, specifically the first sentence. “It’s not karate if you interrupt the blow before contact.” Let’s examine that statement, for a moment. For decades, I’ve trained myself to have an accurate control over my strikes so that I can stop on a dime or plow through my target with the intention of only stopping on the other side. And quite frankly, every possible degree in between. This is important. being able to strike something/someone is easy. Any poor bastard who can close a tight fist can throw a punch and make an impact.

But to have the control to be able to spar in a full contact environment and still stop a hair’s width from your target takes skill, concentration and focus. Three very important aspects that most would argue is integral to learning karate properly. To be able to put full strength behind a strike but still maintain enough control to stop on a dime develops a level of muscle memory that one simply won’t get by always plowing right through.

The second part of the first paragraph, where injuries are referenced, is quite accurate. Let‘s be real, for a moment… Karate isn’t a fuckin’ knitting circle. If you want to avoid injury completely, maybe you should take up checkers, instead. The “possibility” of injury always exists, even in the training environment. This is why firm control, concentration and focus, as well as respect for your opponent, are so very, very important to effectively learning karate.

As is always the case, different styles and martial artists will have different views and opinions on this. I invite any of you who have input to please feel free to provide your thoughts in the comments section. I always welcome a good debate. Food for thought… ☯️

A Little Respect…

When you include all the variations and offshoots, there are hundreds of different martial arts styles, hailing from several different countries. This includes a martial art called “Kalaripayattu,” which has origins in India and is said to be thousands of years’ old. Some styles owe their creation to the existence of previously-existing styles, like Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. That style seems to be all the rage and everyone always praises it but did you know that the style is actually a combination of Japanese Judo and Jujutsu? The style that a good portion of the world seems to think is “oh so great,” is actually a combination of two already-great styles. But the fact I could make that snarky last comment speaks to what today’s post is all about.

I’d love to say that my style is the ultimate one and can outdo any other style that could possibly be out there. But the reality is that it isn’t just about the style but how you train and how much you put into it. I’ve had people I’ve trained with that royally shit the bed in terms of how they’ve developed themselves. Meanwhile, I’m pretty convinced that my Sensei could not only beat the shit out of a team comprised of Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and Jet Li but he would follow up by walking away slowly as an explosion happens in the background. But I may be JUST a little bit biased. The point is that most practitioners tend to develop that bias, since most dedicated martial artists will find and stay with one style for the majority of their training career. Because of this, they tend to believe that their style is THE style.

There’s nothing wrong with a little bit of loyalty and it’s certainly important to bear in mind that style hopping tends to water down a student’s overall skills. But the style you choose is exceptionally subjective and the idea is to choose a style that suits you, fits your needs and helps to provide you with what you need, overall. You have some exceptions, like Chuck Norris and Jean Claude Van Damme. Say what you will about some of the movies, both those fuckers have multiple black belts in various styles. But that tends to be the exception, not the rule. The idea is that sticking with one style doesn’t mean that every other style is wrong or ineffective.

That’s why it’s important to show a little respect. If the original developers of martial arts styles hadn’t kept an open mind and showed a bit of willingness to learn something new, the style you’ve dedicated yourself to would probably never exist. Or at the very least, it might be significantly different than what you know. In my time, I’ve had the opportunity to study with a variety of schools touching on a number of different styles. These different styles have had different ways of doing things, including how to stand, how to execute techniques and even how to close one’s fist and throw a punch, which seems quite basic but there’s apparently more than one way to do it. Imagine that! And although these styles were different, there was always something for me to learn. It wasn’t always easy… Adjusting to different techniques when you’ve been doing it a certain way for decades can be rough. But through all of that, respect has always been there.

No matter what style you study, how long you’ve been at it or how effective you think it is, always remember that anyone else likely feels the same way about their style. There should be no lack of respect for the other styles you may encounter. There are far too many people who bash and bad-talk other styles and always assume that their style is the ultimate one and that no other style has any value. The truth is that there is value in all styles and they’ve all had their journey. So keep an open mind and be willing to consider different perspectives. Although dedication to one style is important, respect for ALL styles holds a seat on the same platform. Food for thought… ☯️

That Greener Grass Of Yours Needs Watering…

It’s a natural instinct to want the things we don’t have. In some instances, this is called ambition, or having goals. This concept applies even when it happened to be something we CAN’T have, although many of us can’t differentiate the difference between “don’t” and “can’t.” But many things in life are often taken for granted, at a time in our lives when we don’t even realize we’re better off.

A good example of this is sleep. How many times have we fought off bedtime or refused to nap as children, afraid to miss something important in our day or preferring to play or watch television than get some sleep. It always seemed so arbitrary and unnecessary. For myself, I was always a little too smart for my own good; I would rationalize that even if I stayed up now, I could sleep more at the other end. This didn’t always work in my favour, considering my parents had to work, run errands and meet appointments, which didn’t always allow me to lounge in my bed at my leisure…

As an adult, I often look back at those days of menial defiance and recognize that I often wish I could go back to a time when my only concern on a weekend was wether I actually took the nap or not. And I can assuredly promise that I would take advantage and crash hard. These days, between work obligations, family obligations, children, errands and chores, there is little time for naps and even a proper night’s sleep is often interrupted by the difficulties of Type-1 Diabetes or the pitter-patter of tiny feet, sneaking out of their bedrooms to pilfer snacks or retrieve their forbidden electronic devices. But I digress…

My point is, we rarely take the opportunity to appreciate the circumstance we’re in; usually preferring to yearn and wish for the circumstances that could be. But if I use my sleep scenario as an example, the issue is not wishing one could go back but rather examining one’s current state and contemplating what one might do to change it for the better. Want that afternoon nap on the weekends? There may be some compromise and negotiating to be done but it isn’t impossible. That’s where the concept of goals come in, after all.

As pack animals, humans will also yearn for what they see others possess. Whether it’s a bigger house, a fancy car or an apparent high-paying job that one may think is far better than their own, the acquisition of material possession and wealth is considered not only a societal norm in the Western world, but an expectation. But how better off are these folks who have everything you covet? Are they truly happier or well off? Or is there a storm brewing under the surface of their existence that you may not be seeing.

They say that money can’t buy happiness. I’ve heard and read that saying more times than I can possibly remember. This makes sense, since I was raised in a household where material possession and acquisition of wealth made way for our overall health. We spent so much time in hospitals and travelling to see specialists, all of our time, efforts and resources as a family went to that. In some ways, in many ways, we were better off as this meant that we learned to enjoy the simpler things in life. A quiet night’s sleep where neither child woke up dying. A warm afternoon of swimming in a local brook or river. It’s true what they say that some of the best things in life are free.

But although money can’t buy happiness, it can alleviate the pressures associated with everyday life that prevent said happiness. That’s the caveat that those who would spout that rhetoric seem to forget. But for the high-salary executive who makes a shit ton of money, the over-extended hours of work and time away from their families, coupled with the stress and burnout of the job, are just some of the negative aspects that they don’t display on their public face. This is why, while one may look at that executive and think they’ve totally got it made, their home and family life are in shambles BECAUSE of their success, instead of being aided by it. As with all other things in life, there must be a balance…

So, what’s the point of all of this? I’ve thrown out a lot of words and used a few sayings and have made a few solid points but the ultimate one for today is that one should be happy with what they’ve got and stop wanting everything they see elsewhere; whether it’s in someone else’s possession or not. Make your goals, work towards your dreams but always remember that the here and now likely isn’t anywhere near as bad as you feel it is because you haven’t reached those goals yet. Money truly doesn’t buy happiness. And even if the grass happens to be greener on the other side, it didn’t get that way on its own. And it usually harbours the same bugs as your own grass does. Food for thought… ☯️

The Meaning Behind The Candles…

People tend to put a lot of stock and attention into the day of their births. For many, it begins at the very literal day of their birth, where friends and family will gather and celebrate a new addition to the family and beginning of a new life with infinite possibilities and directions. Although there are many cultural and societal origins behind getting one’s cake on during one’s birthday, most sources I’ve read all agree that celebrating the day of one’s birth likely began with the ancient Egyptians, some 3,000 years ago. The population would generally celebrate on the day a new pharaoh was crowned, as this was the day he was “birthed” as a new god. I don’t think I’d get away with trying to proclaim myself as a pharaoh. In modern times, it’s usually observed on the day that one is actually born from their mother’s wombs. This observance usually involves the singing of songs, eating of cake and the giving of gifts to the birthday person. But what purpose does it truly serve?

When one is a child, birthdays can be a fun and exciting day. You get to eat cake and treats, you usually get some gifts out of the deal and if you’re lucky and are attending school, you may have your peers doing something, as well. If you like that sort of thing. For me, I use to absolutely loathe having the entire classroom halted to sing happy birthday to me. So fucking embarrassing… It can seem nice and exciting as a child but as you slowly work your way into adulthood, it can become a tedious hindrance as it seems to be observed more by others than by oneself. Once a person begins to reach adulthood, they’ll often fall under one of two categories; those who are flattered and enjoy being recognized and those who prefer to simply let it pass as just another day. Just like today. Today is a Monday. The sun has risen, I can almost assuredly promise it will set tonight, and billions of people are going on with the daily grind of their lives regardless of this day.

I tend to agree more with the latter. At a young age, I began to acknowledge that my birthday was truly nothing more than a day where I had to get up out of my chair every five minutes for the phone ringing. yes, I’m old enough that I had to get up to use the phone. It was pretty sweet when I was younger and all my relatives would give me birthday cards with cash in them. In retrospect, i wish I had banked all of that cash instead of consistently spending it on toys and useless bullshit. But that’s children for you. Hell, my kids do the same thing now, despite my attempts at bestowing the important knowledge of my experience upon them. But I digress…

These days, I tend to take my birthday as more of a stepping stone to the remainder of the year. A day when others try and recognize that my chronological age has increased by one digit but where I tend to try and stay hidden in a hole until the sun sets and my world can return to some semblance of normalcy. After all, a big point that people tend to forget is that one’s birthday is only one day. There are 364 other days in the year (depending on where in the world you reside and what calendar you observe) and every day that you wake up with air in lungs and life in your body is one you should celebrate. The day of your birth was simply but one of those days. All the subsequent days of your life hold a deeper and more meaningful importance as they likely contains what you DID with that life once it was given to you. And that’s far more worth celebrating than an occasion where your mother was likely in pain; a story she’ll usually be sure to share with you on every birthday (if she remembers). Food for thought… ☯️

Polishing The Ol’ Turd…

Home renovations are tedious, and can take a hefty financial and even emotional toll on even the strongest of souls. I’ve seen and heard of people renovating parts of their home that have led to financial difficulty and strife between marital partners that has resulted in separation. And what would one expect, when you dump a whole a whack of your hard-earned dollars into altering aspects of your home? this usually involves moving a whole bunch of shit and maybe having limited use of the one place in this life that’s intended on being your sanctuary and place for peace.

For us, we purchased our current home in 2016 when I was transferred into Regina during my policing career. Although the layout and structure of the house was sound, there were many aspects of it that were reminiscent of the late 1960’s when it was built, such as orange carpet and fake wooden planks on the walls of the basement, outdated wood-grain cabinetry and shitty window that radiate heat in the summer and frost up with ice in the winter. All that being said, we had assumed we’d only be in this house for 3 to 5 years, upon which time I’d be transferred to another posting and we’d be selling. We were wrong.

As a result, we found ourselves in the midst of a complete basement renovation due to structural damage and water leakage. Although not a bank-breaking endeavour, it provided a much-needed facelift to the basement and it’s now a fantastic, liveable space. Completed in late fall of 2021, we had discussed the potential upgrading of the upper floor as well. Back in May, we chose to renovate our upstairs bathroom, as this is one of the key rooms of the home that every family member requires. Through the progress made on our bathroom, we decided that coordinating flooring and drywall for the hallway and bedrooms would be easier if we simply did it all in one go. So we did.

After several long months of living like borders as we had to jam everything from the rear of the house to the front, and having the majority of the family camping out in the basement, we’ve finally completed the renovations and will be able to start moving things back into our respective bedrooms and bathroom. I had the pleasure of using our newly-installed bathtub and I have to say, well worth the money.

Nathan’s bedroom is red, because of course he needs something different…
The new bathroom, with everything fresh and modernized, including a deep tub, stone backsplash and new vanity.
The Master Bedroom

Although only a few months in total (we started in May of this year) it felt like forever and has made living within the home difficult. But the end results speak for themselves and we’re quite happy with how things look. Everything is fresh and new, and it sure is nice to walk along the new flooring without every step making it sound like I weigh a metric ton. Now that all of this has been put into place, we get to start the arduous task of putting everything back in place. A silver lining behind all of that is that it will give us the opportunity to go through all of our respective belongings and begin to Kon Marie the living shit out all of it and hopefully downsize all the non-necessaries within our household.

Although it can be easily agreed that renovations can be stressful and tough to deal with, it can be well worth the effort if you can find it within yourselves to push through and get through so that you can get the results you want. It will be nice to get Nathan back into his room, especially. I think the little booger has gotten to used to having access to a television throughout the night. But doing so will also give me back my fitness corner, which will be nice. Sleeping in my own bed, which I have been unable to do for the past four months, will also be icing on the cake.

The question now, given the rising cost and demand for construction materials and professionals to do the work, will be when we’ll be able to complete renovations on the front half of the house, which includes large windows and a kitchen. It may be a few years before we have the financial resources and the patience to jump into that piranha-infested bullshit again. But it’ll happens eventually. In the meantime, we get to enjoy the efforts of the contractors who performed the work for us. ☯️

A Little Fur Therapy Never Hurt Anyone…

Last weekend, my wife and I took our boys to a local zoo. Local being a relative term… We travelled three hours to get there. but I digress. The point is that with some of the extreme heat we’ve been having in recent weeks, spending long periods of time outdoors has been difficult, given that everyone in our household is fair-skinned and burn like Canadian bacon. So we grabbed the opportunity on a day when the temperatures were a bit cooler.

To be honest, I have mixed feelings about zoos. On the one hand, I’m not a believer of caging any living thing against its will. Although most domestic animals like dogs and cats have it way better than they probably realize, certain animals like birds, bears and large cats don’t belong in a pen, cut off from their natural habitats and relegated to a life of captivity. As a child, I never visited a zoo as my father very much shares those same beliefs. Now that I’m a father myself, I have to admit that there’s a certain benefit to showing all these different animals to my children in a relatively safe environment.

We left Regina early enough o reach Saskatoon around the time the zoo would begin to. Open to the public. Our thinking was to hit it up on a weekday so as to avoid some of the larger, weekend crowds. The boys were actually very quiet and composed on the way up. My wife and I had our coffees and breakfast sandwiches; the boys had their drinks and snack foods. It was a clear sunny day and we even enjoyed the entirety of the ride without music. Many would think that doesn’t sound great but it was nice to actually enjoy a quiet ride where there was no ambient noise.

When we arrived at the location, we were greeted at an entry gate where we were told there was a parking fee. This was curious, as one would think that an admission fee should usually include parking. But we were here and it wasn’t a hill to die on. I paid the parking fee. The parking lot was already quite packed but we managed to find a parking spot before making our way to the entrance kiosk. $40 later and we were in. After a long drive, we used a restroom inside a terrarium-style building, where the boys got to see fish, frogs, lizards and snakes. The day had begun quite nicely.

As were walking towards the inner paths of the zoo, I explained to the boys that there was a lot to see and experience and that they should take it all in and enjoy what they were seeing. As I was explaining this, I noticed a play park structure located in the middle of the zoo. I got a pit in my stomach as I realized that if my boys saw this park, all they’d want to do was go play in it. Why they would build one in the middle of a zoo, where the intention was to see animals, was beyond me. I strategically placed myself between the play structure and the boys and ushered them in a different direction.

I thin the boys enjoyed seeing the animals, for the most part. Everyone enjoyed the butterfly house the best, especially since some butterflies would actually land on people. We were less than an hour in when Alexander start pining to go home. I tried explaining that we still had plenty left to see and that we had just gotten there but he was adamant he wanted t leave. He changed his tune when we rounded the corner and walked right into the play structure. Fuck. Of course, now he wanted to go play…

I took Nathan to see a few more of the enclosures but as one can’t control the behaviour of animals, getting them out and visible isn’t exactly a possibility. But we did get to see two grizzly bears frolicking in the water, which was entertaining. We made our way back to the vehicle when we realized we had two hungry, cranky boys on our hands. We made our way back onto the highway for Regina, after handing everyone their respective sandwiches and snacks for lunch.

All in all, it was a good trip and a great experience for the family. Considering they could have gotten fresh air and played at a park at home, I probably could have done without using a full tank of gas and paying money just to have them to do it inside a zoo but at least they got to see some animals. The experience was there, and that’s a what mattered. Naps and a cool basement were certainly enjoyed, after a long day out in the sun. ☯️

Full Circle…

Alright so, as if it wasn’t bad enough that I only seem to be posting once a week in recent months, I’m going to use a post today to brag about something I’ve purchased. I know, I know, that’s not very Buddhist-like but what can I say; I am a product of my Western environment. Maybe there’s more work to be done in that area and may be this is the wake-up call I need in order to do it. For today, I’m simply going to enjoy the ride (you’ll see why that’s funny in a minute).

All the way back in 1995, I saved up all my money as well as some inheritance I had gotten from family, and purchased my first vehicle. My choices were few and far between, considering the amount of cash I had available, and I was adamant on purchasing that vehicle on my own. It didn’t prevent the fact that as a minor, my parents would still need to register the vehicle in their name. But the honour of paying for the vehicle itself was still mine and mine alone.

My parents were totally on board with me purchasing a vehicle for myself. Besides the fact that I had reached an age where I would be able to drive myself to school and start looking for more work, it also allowed for me to run errands for my parents when needed, which freed them up for their own work, as well. All Lin all, it would serve the entire family, which made it a smart choice and a good resource for the entire family. Still with me? Good. Moving on.

After a few weeks of searching, I finally found a used vehicle I could afford with my humble savings. And that vehicle was a 1983 Toyota Tercel hatchback. This bad boy was red, two-door and had an after-market tape deck with an amplifier and after-market speakers installed in the hatchback. They had turned the tires outwards so that the white stripe was showing, giving the car a sharp, racing look. It was also a piece of shit. There were rust stains, the seal around the windshield was curling up and the upholstery smelled like the previous owner must have owned a dog.

I gave up my savings to purchase the vehicle and had my father drive it home, since it was a manual transmission and I didn’t know how to operate a manual transmission. Once we had it home, I tore into that bad boy with the kind of fervour I reserved only for karate classes. I scrubbed and shampooed the interior until it glistened. I washed and polished the outside until I could see my face in it. I polished that red turd until even the most discerning of critics couldn’t dispute that it was hell on wheels. A veritable carriage for my shenanigans. The transport towards my future.

I absolutely loved that car and went everywhere with it. It had a very weak engine with a 3-gear manual transmission. That didn’t stop me from ripping all over town like a maniac. It only had a driver’s side mirror, which apparently wasn’t illegal at the time the car was sold. I also had to learn how to drive a manual transmission from scratch. I’m surprised I didn’t blow the transmission out of that bastard in the first week. But I learned. And I drove.

That car served me extremely well for several years, including getting me to college and back home for two years. I remember one year, the heater gave out and the windshield would frost on the inside, forcing my passengers and I to scrape the inside of the windshield every few minutes. It was a brutal act and it met a brutal end. One day while trying to overtake a vehicle on the highway, I blew out the engine. That’s what I get for red-lining the RPM’s on a dinky 4-cylinder engine. But I digress.

Over the years, I’ve held fond memories of that car. It was the first vehicle I ever owned. The first vehicle I went on a road trip on my own with, the first vehicle I travelled out of town, out of Province and out of control. It’s carried friends, family, loved ones and more burger wrappers and empty coffee cups than I can count. It brings up an important point regarding perspective. By my own standards today, I would never purchase such a dilapidated, trusted vehicle with unreliable parts and a danger to my family and I. But back then, that piece of shit was like a Rolls Royce to me…

That brings us to the here and now. As I’ve grown into adulthood, owning a vehicle has become more of a household necessity and convenience than the liberating tool of freedom it was considered in my teens and twenties. Throughout the majority of our relationship, my wife and I have pretty much always owned two vehicles. This has made it easy to have one of us at work and the other still capable of running errands and doing their own thing. However, once the COVID-19 pandemic kicked in and I found myself sitting at home for a significant period of time, paying for two vehicles seemed redundant, so I sold my car.

The new mirth mobile

However, recent events have prompted us to once again purchase a second, smaller vehicle for me to use to get to work and run errands (“recent events” meaning I backed our SUV and smashed out one of the mirrors). I purchased the used vehicle you see above. It’s clean, in perfect working condition and is new-to-me. Limited mileage and a smooth ride, it sits a bit lower to the ground and has some significant peppiness for a vehicle so easy on fuel. It’s bee great.

The irony is that my first car was a Toyota hatchback. And although it took effectively twenty five years, I appear to have come full circle with yet another Toyota hatchback. Some people need their muscle cars or sports cars, motorbikes or leisure vehicle. Me, I just need something easy on gas that lets me hug the road. The household is now adjusting to the fact that even if I’m work, my wife can still run errands, attend appointments and bring the boys on outings. Things have changed since I was a younger man. A car is no longer a luxury, it’s a necessity. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a bit of nostalgia in the process. Food for thought… ☯️

Stepping Out Of The Matrix…

As modern parents, trying to raise children in a way that lets them understand that negative actions can have negative consequences can be difficult. After all, the differences in how children are raised these days are significant and obvious. When I was a kid, being “bad” (and I use that term loosely as it’s pretty subjective) usually resulted in my being sent o my room. But these days, sending a kid to their room is the equivalent of sending them off to a spa day, with all the electronics and toys they have.

For our children, the easy solution is the removal of the electronic devices. My oldest, especially, has a Nintendo Switch, a used cell phone that I programmed with his school’s app, which now has a plethora of games and by virtue of our current renovations, his sleeping space even has a small flat-screen with a streaming stick. This means the boy can basically plug in when he wakes up and doesn’t need to unplug unless we force him (or cut the power). The worst part is having a large backyard with plenty of space but yet, getting him outside is a chore unto of itself.

Last Saturday, Nathan once did, or refused to do, one thing or another, which is not all that surprising. At only 8-years old, he’s already turned into an unruly teenager, shirking and refusing even the simplest of chores and tasks. Considering the previous few days saw him barely budge from his bed for food or the washroom and he rarely even bothers to get dressed, my wife indicated that he should get his juvenile butt outside and that the following day (Sunday) would be a device-free day.

Although a good idea on its face, since one should not spend ALL of one’s time on an electronic device, a thought occurred… I told my wife that we should ALL have a device free day. The boys, her and myself. No phones, no iPads, no television, no electronic devices of any sort until we’d had a full day without them. Although initially agreed to as a good idea, some apprehension began to bubble towards the surface. The realization that, as adults, we use our phones for almost everything imaginable, an alarm, a clock, reminders, calendar planner, looking up random information as needed and checking the hours of operation for any errands we need to run, came crashing down unceremoniously.

The idea behind my thinking was twofold. First, it’s difficult to expect children to do something if the adults don’t lead by example. Barking orders is easy. Practicing what you preach is a lot tougher. By virtue of this, joining the boys on a no device day would show them that we’re also capable of it and that it’s no big deal. Second, it would give us the opportunity to indulge in other forms of relaxation or distraction that many people seem to leave behind. We already had a couple of things planned for the Sunday that would take us through the majority of the day.

On Sunday morning, I woke up, checked the time then hid away all my devices and powered down my laptop. As he slept, I grabbed Nathan’s Nintendo Switch and hit cell phone and tucked them away. I powered down the television and headed upstairs. Our device free day had begun. I’ve taken the habit of sitting outside for the first hour of my days off. I find it helps me to start my day calmly, as I enjoy the birds, squirrels and rabbits that run around the neighbourhood. Within minutes, my toddler came outside and joined me. He actually played on some of the structures we’ve bought for the back yard, played with some toys and in the dirt and EVEN sat still for an entire ten minutes with me, which is a rarity.

Our morning saw all of us leave the house together for a Costco trip. All in all, it was a pretty uneventful trip and we stocked up on things we needed for some time. When we got home, we spent the afternoon in a combination of naps and time outdoors. I cleaned out the garage, the boys spent time building a fort and my wife spent some time reading. I even got to dip my nose in a couple of graphic novels I’ve been meaning to get through. It was a fun, calm afternoon. The weather was nice, we got pleasantry of fresh air and the boys got to see that they’re able to spend some time without necessarily being tethered to an electronic device.

Why am I writing all of this? Probably seems like a bit of a boring narrative, right? The point is that it was good for the adults, as well. It allowed our heads to cool and for us to do something other than allow a digital display to dictate our day. By the time everyone had eaten supper, we let the walls down and devices were permitted. As it was Sunday night, laundry and showers for everyone needed to happen and keeping the boys occupied and out from underfoot during this process can be a challenge. But it’s important to remember that there’s a great, big world out there that deserves your time. Once in a while, you just gotta step out of the matrix. Food for thought… ☯️