Taking Time Out
Last week, a rare opportunity arose for me to get away by myself for a few days. It was perfect timing for a change of scene, so I grabbed it, leaving the city behind for the lovely Gulf Islands, leaving the pile of work on my desk behind with the intention of spending a few days focusing exclusively on writing. I didn’t expect to spend it offline. The place I stayed has wifi, and I assumed I’d be connected as usual. But on the first day, I realized that if I stayed online on email and social media, I may as well have stayed home, because I wouldn’t get the change of mindset I needed to go with the change of location. So I turned it off. Almost. I checked email once and I looked up a couple of research items when I was working. The social media break was an unexpected facet of the time away, but one of the ones I liked best. The lack of internet noise combined with the quiet of the island itself made space, as my friend Mary once said to me, “for the muses to speak.”It was a good feeling, being alone with my own thoughts for awhile. In the mornings, my dog and I would head out for some sort of adventure and a little exercise. One day, we climbed a mountain for the view. Another, we walked on the beach and sat on a log, watching the local residents – a seal, an otter, seagulls, birds, a deer, and even a visiting sea lion – go about their business. We wandered streets and trails, beaches and forests. And then we’d return to the cabin, and I’d spend the rest of the day working. It even warmed up enough for me to spend a little time writing outside on the deck. It was the first time I’ve had in a very long time to immerse myself in story to the exclusion of all else, and it was wonderful. Freed of the usual pressures and time constraints of workdays, not attempting to juggle anything but the stories clamouring for attention in my thoughts, my mind was free to explore and mull and plan and plot and write. It was rejuvenating and satisfying and absolutely worth the overwhelming inbox and long list of regular life stuff I have to catch up on now that I’m home. I can’t wait to do it again. Share...
Living Out Loud
I happen to be one of the lucky winners of the parent lottery. I’m not sure if I’ve ever talked here about my mum, but in case I haven’t, she’s the kind of person who makes this a conversation I’ve had more times than I can count, word-for-word: Me, to any number of friends: “My mum said to say hi.” The friend: “I love your mum.” Many of those same friends have rarely or never met my dad. Most of us think we lead pretty busy lives, but my dad truly is the poster child for busy people. This week, to celebrate his “retirement”, a tribute dinner was held in his honour. They didn’t bother to call it a retirement dinner, because everyone knows that would be ridiculous. In truth, while he has retired from his primary position, he continues as president of two companies and is still serving in major volunteer positions, a combination that would easily add up to more than a full-time job for most people. For him, it adds up to semi-retirement. But even though he’s not about to settle into a rocking chair on a porch, retiring after more than 30 years with London Drugs offered an opportunity for people to come and celebrate his contributions to their lives, their companies, their organizations, and more, and come they did. It was pretty special to be there and see over 700 people (the ones who managed to get tickets before they were all gone) fill the largest ballroom at the Hotel Vancouver to celebrate him and to contribute to the event’s secondary purpose as a fundraiser for bursaries at BCIT, his alma mater for which he has been a life-long champion. In his speech, Brandt Louie, head of the family that owns London Drugs, summed up my dad nicely: “If you know Wynne at all, you will know that telling him something is impossible is his idea of a challenge. While others are still thinking about it, he will just push ahead and show you how it gets done.” Even though that’s absolutely true, he’s the kind of person who believes that his success relies on the good team of people around him. His own speech that night touched on many of the experiences that have humbled him, moved him, excited him, and inspired him over the years, from spending time with well-known people like Walter Cronkite and Bill Clinton, whose attitude and intelligence, not their fame, impressed him, to the way the London Drugs family pulled together in the aftermath of the Stanley Cup riots, when the downtown store was hit hard by vandals and the staff was terrorized. There has been nothing boring about his career. He is often asked to speak to people about leadership, and in his speech on Wednesday, he gave his quick five tips for success. They are pretty straightforward, but they sum up his life pretty well, and I think they should apply to all of our journeys, too: 1. Work hard. 2. Love what you do: if you don’t, find something you do love and make the change. 3. Choose courage over popularity: popularity will keep you safe, he said, but it won’t let you make hard decisions that break new ground and move you forward. 4. Be curious. Never stop asking questions and learning. 5. Listen. Listen. Listen. Listen to people who know more than you do, to good people whose opinions you value, to your own intuition, but never to naysayers and critics. “The critic club,” he said, “is the easiest one to join.” If you’re interested, there’s a great press release about the evening here. Share...
Weekend Wanders
How did it get to be Tuesday already? Here in BC, we’ve just come out of a much-needed, welcome long weekend, and I don’t really know how it disappeared so quickly. But of course it did, and now it’s time to leap into another busy week. But first, I thought I’d share a few things I’ve seen and places I’ve been in the last few days, IRL and online: The recent cold snap brought with it glorious sunshine here in the Lower Mainland. This meant that the treadmill at the gym suddenly had a most excellent view of the mountains and, one morning, a giant bald eagle circling the clear blue sky above the buildings. Not a bad place to work up a sweat, that’s for sure. At my local coffee shop on one of the coldest days last week, a handful of hardy customers (aka smokers, mostly, with this notable exception) sat outside on the patio. One of them, sitting up straight and tall in a patio chair the whole time, appearing to be part of the conversation, was a brindle Pitbull wearing a purple sweater and a knowing smile. It often takes me a few days to get to the links I open from tweets or Facebook, which puts me behind on things some of you may already have seen. But if you’re like me, maybe these are new to you: Russell Brand, who is a great writer, wrote this excellent piece for the Spectator in the wake of Philip Seymour Hoffman’s death. One of my favourite landscape photographers, mostly of the West Highlands in Scotland, is composer Steve Carter (@highlandrampage). Recently, he added a page to his website for the Rivendell Guest House in Shieldaig. Generations of my ancestors came from Shieldaig and the surrounding area, and this guest house was, for many years, the Temperance Inn run by my great great grandmother. I had the pleasure of eating dinner in the dining room at Rivendell in 2008, and even though I know the work that went into restoring a building that had fallen into terrible disrepair in the years between the Temperance and Rivendell, I could still feel the history of the place and imagine my ancestors in it. I’d love to go back again. And finally for today, Susanna Kearsley (I do occasionally remember who posted something I like!) linked to this lovely Bell’s Whisky ad from South Africa: Share...
Letter Month Guest Post
Have you signed up for the Month of Letters yet? The delightful Mary Robinette Kowal’s annual letter writing challenge kicks off tomorrow. Check it out here: http://lettermo.com/ Today, I have a guest post on the Month of Letters blog about fountain pen love. Share...
Sunday Morning Musing
Musing this Sunday morning about the fact that no matter how hard I try to pack it all in, there will never be enough hours to spend with the people I care about spend alone write all the books I want to write read all the books I want to read travel to all the places I want to go learn all the things I want to learn stop and admire all the views sleep see all the art, watch all the movies, listen to all the music explore all the nooks and crannies hang out and do nothing have all the conversations I want to have and so much more. Suddenly, that big pile of laundry I’d planned to do today seems a whole lot less important. Except, of course, for the problem of not wanting to do most of those things naked… Share...
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