A Change of Cast

Just a wee change…

Like a long time golfer who takes a periodic lesson, I arranged to take a class with Ian Colin James, guide and fly casting guru
http://www3.sympatico.ca/ianjames/
, to improve my casting.  After 20 or more years of fishing, I still have things to learn…but hopefully not too much.

Considering where to cast.

Considering where to cast.

McDougall Cottage in Cambridge was the gathering place for the 7 students and Ian. We were supposed to head down to Paris and spend the afternoon on the river, but high water levels meant dangerous wading conditions. Instead, we’d  just stand in the park near the river to work on our casts.

The in-class session was interesting but not a lot of new stuff for me. Except, of course, when Ian talked about throwing out your tapered leaders and simply using 20 feet of 6 pound fluorocarbon to do the same thing. That little change was going to save me time and money. Brilliant.

We all loaded into a van and drove to Paris. Being surrounded by like-minded people is always a treat. We speak the same language and value the same things – tight lines, releasing fish, and just standing in a river. As we rigged up in the parking lot, I had a feeling of confidence. I had lots of fishing experience, in Ontario, Alberta, Nova Scotia, and I know a lot about rivers. I really wasn’t prepared to change a lot about my cast.

Boy, was I in for a surprise!

Ian had us all stand in the field, just sending line out and casting like we were in the river. He’d plant himself next to someone and just chat. Then he’d provide a word of advice or an idea and move on. Nothing too intimidating, and you were bound to laugh at his stories.

When he reached me, he politely suggested I might want to stand differently. Then could I possibly move my arm differently, not shift my weight like I usually do, hold the line a bit differently….hold on, he was changing everything! I WAS NOT PLEASED!!! I was used to shifting my weight, to throwing the line a certain way, moving my shoulders…and now he wants me to change all this stuff? This is nuts!

But I had to listen to him. For heavens sakes, he was standing right next to me, wrapping his fingers around my line, explaining patiently that it would work if I just tried, and it would eventually be even better than my old way. I threw a few casts, just to get him to move to the next person. It wasn’t bad, but it was hard to adjust. Then a few more. He stepped away, telling me what to keep doing. I would forget now and then, and I’d go back to my old ways. But every time I did what he suggested, my line went straighter, further and it was easier.

This is so cool.

After about an hour, I was convinced. Ian would stroll back now and then, answer whatever question I had at the moment, tell me a story, and ask how I was doing. My biggest complaint was that I had to think about it, every time I retrieved the line.  But when I did, it was just easier and better. I whined to Ian and he promised eventually, it would be second nature. I just had to keep doing it, over and over.

Change. Why are we so afraid of change? In the change management workshop I recently ran, we talked about fear of the unknown, fear of failure, of commitment, of leaving our comfort zone. In my casting experience, I didn’t know what this new cast would do, and how I would handle it. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to adjust. I was worried about leaving my old technique behind and committing to the new one. But most of all, I was comfortable with my old cast. I didn’t have to think. This new approach made me think. A lot.

But it worked.

And it was fun.

And perhaps thinking, done in moderation, is a good thing!

A change of cast brings a brookie!

A change of cast brings a brookie!

101 Things!

I just delivered a Team Training session for my NRCan friends in Ottawa. To prepare for it, I hauled out some of my old training materials, but also ventured into some newer research about teams and team building. Before I knew it, I had found a reference to Rolf Smith
http://www.fastcompany.com/62628/rolf-smith
. Somewhere in his site, I learned he had his “students” create a list 101 things they want to do before they die. A bucket list of sorts.

Making music with friends is truly priceless

Making music with friends is truly priceless

I decided to create my list.

I sat down with my journal and a pencil, and started writing. The first items on the list were easy. But by the time I got to about 15, I started to really think about the idea of WANT itself. By the time I reached 20, I was running out of things to write. How bizarre is that. Does that mean I’m actually happy with my life as it is now, or that my vision and outlook on life is just too narrow to see beyond my immediate borders?

What I found really interesting were the questions I would ask myself in order to try to fill up the 101 blank spaces on the page. This is how I approached it:

  1. What do I want to do?
  2. What do I need to make my life better?
  3. What do I want to make my life better?

My answers to the first question seemed like they would be straight forward. Okay, I want to fly fish in Patagonia. I want to keep skiing in Whistler. I want to travel to Russia and Mongolia. I want to visit a place with a radically different culture from the one I live in, like China or India.

Headlamp sometimes necessary while cooking on fishing trips.

Headlamp sometimes necessary while cooking on fishing trips.

Do you see a pattern emerging there? Apparently, what I want to do revolves around where I want to go. So where do I want to go, other than Patagonia, Whistler, Russia, Mongolia, China or India? Ummmmm. Well, places where I can fly fish, where I can ski, where I can hike and where I can experience different things. (This was enlightening in and of itself, because I realized that traveling was obviously very important to me, almost to the exclusion of anything else.)

Okay, what do I need to make my life better?  I’m stumped. My father is alive and loves me (thankfully), my children amaze and delight me more each day, my friends hold me close in their hearts every day. So what else do I need? Really, nothing.

What else do I want? Now that’s a loaded question. And here is where I really stopped to (like Winnie the Pooh), think, think, think. Sure, I want to have a lot of Port Ellen single malt whiskey. And some good skis. I want to play the fiddle really, really well and make music wherever I go. And I want to be able to fish on the Margaree River. But do those things that I want make my life better?

Nope.

What do I want to make my life better? Here’s my list:

  • Patience – I want to learn to be more patient, with others but more importantly, with myself.
  • Impact – I want to make a positive impact on as many people as I can.
  • Joy – I want to be joyful and share that joy with as many people as I can.
  • Understanding – I want to be loving enough to understand others’ perspectives, and not impose mine on anyone.

You see, I can’t buy any of those things. I can only continue to live and learn and move along that path. Wish me luck.

And I challenge you to do the same – start and finish your list of 101 things. Find the commonalities and discover what is really, truly important to you. You may be surprised.

(Of course, I’d like to find all those things while I’m fly fishing in Patagonia, or hiking in Ireland, savouring single malt and making music with my friends!)

Sharing laughter, single malt and a Steamwhistle with my most wonderful pal Gail!

Sharing laughter, single malt and a Steam Whistle with my most wonderful pal Gail!

Be Brave!

“I don’t want to wake up one day and realize I forgot to live my life.”

I read the Globe and Mail every morning. Just one of my habits that I enjoy – get up, stretch, walk dogs out to get the paper, make coffee, read and find out about the rest of the world. I delight in finding what is written in the paper. Believe it or not, the statement above is from the Globe’s Business Section, in an article about a financial planning advisor who manages his clients’ money very cautiously. Yet the rest of his life is involved in taking both physical and social risks. He is a living, breathing example of the theory that suggests risk takers in one realm may be timid in others.

I think I am like that as well. I love taking risks, flying by the seat of my pants – sure, I can (insert correct word) ski/ride/run/hike that! So what? it’s just a little steep/long/hot/ dangerous, but I’m confident I can do it! Of course, one broken leg from a spill in Jackson Hole, crushed and broken bones in a foot from a bad soccer tackle, knees full of cinders and scars…but I’m still out there playing to my heart’s content!

But it is the social risks that I often find challenging; the bravery involved in doing or saying something important or meaningful, or looking someone in the eye and saying what I really mean, instead of what I think they want to hear.

Obviously there's something I'm not saying!

Obviously there’s something I’m not saying!

Like the man said, I don’t want to wake up one day and realize I forgot to live my life just because I was too anxious to say what I really mean. Perhaps that’s a thought for everyone to consider. How often do we want to say something, but we hold back because we don’t want to hurt feelings or we are concerned about the repercussions? In the end, it is often our own feelings that are most hurt. The words we want to say get buried under our skin, and we let life go on, as if they don’t matter.

But they do matter and they don’t go away. The words we don’t say, just like the ones we do say, remain with us and influence our decisions, our actions and our lives.

I don’t want to be held prisoner by my own fear of words. I want to be more brave when it comes to my words. Really, I just want to say what I mean to say, what I want to say, but often don’t have the courage to do it. So, in thinking about that while I finished the Saturday Globe, I came up with these three steps to help shape the way I speak and allow myself to take some risks without hurting anyone, myself included:

  • Ask myself “what would I say if I didn’t care if I was right, or wasn’t concerned about people’s reactions?”
  • Then, think about how to deliver those words succinctly and with clarity, without blame or pain.
  • Then do it!

Maybe its my stage of life, or perhaps I am just weary of holding on to fears that may never materialize. My history of silence hasn’t done that much for me.  I will do as Sara Bareilles sings in her song “Brave”

“Say what you wanna say

And let the words fall out

Honestly, I wanna see you be brave”

23 Words

Mother’s Day. What springs to your mind when I say that? Brunch? Flowers? Perhaps a huge family gathering with Hallmark cards and candies?

Not me. I think of a few words that made everything wonderful. 23 words, to be exact.

Words are so powerful. We have millions of them, different sounds in different languages, and depending on how they are aligned, they send different messages. Candies, cards and brunches are lovely. But a few words, whispered or shared in a particular way, can make everything in your world better.

6:15 am, I rolled over in bed to hear my cell phone making sounds. When Jaime sends me a text using What’s App (
http://www.whatsapp.com/
) from Austria, I know it’s her. And I’m smiling before I even open my eyes. I struggle to find my glasses and position the phone so I can read those tiny words…”Mom, let’s Skype as soon as you get up”. So up I get, coffee is on, and I settle into the chair to Skype with my wee one. We talk about her work, my work, the dogs, soccer, more soccer, Alex Ferguson and Man U, more soccer, and my summer trip. One hour, then somehow two hours pass. My bum is sore from the hard chair, and I’m hungry and ready to eat. So as I get ready to finish our conversation, she says the first 11 words of the day that make my heart stand still: “Mom, I wish I could spend the day with you today”.

Jaime and the love of her life.

Jaime and the love of her life.

Just 11 little words. Nothing fancy, long or detailed. We’d shared many more over the past 2 hours. But those 11 words had me grinning ear to ear, and all teared up.

Then Rory leaves a message to tell me he’s on his way home. I had thought he was visiting friends north of me, and was on his way down to my house. Then another phone call and he tells me he’s close to the Grange Sideroad. The Grange is south of me. What you need to know is that Rory’s sense of direction is, well, unusual. North, south, east and west don’t really compute for him. When he was younger, I used to send Jaime with him to do errands. Jaime was born with an innate sense of direction, and she could always find her way home. If they were together, I didn’t have to worry. But without his Jaime or GPS, no one can be sure where Rory will end up!

So why was he south of me when he was coming from the north? Apparently he didn’t go to Tottenham, and was coming up from Toronto. Well, why are you doing that, I asked? Then came the rest of the important words: “Because I just want to spend the whole day with you, Mom”.

Rory and his two lady loves!

Rory and his two lady loves!

12 words. Nothing more. No flowers, no chocolates, no brunch reservations. But nothing, absolutely nothing could mean more to me that those words.

Words have been known to incite war, to calm a crying baby, to effect change anywhere and everywhere. Words can wound or heal, they can delight or damage. At home, at work, words, both written or uttered, are the cornerstones of our communication. The way they are organized or the way they are spoken influences their meaning. The words of Gandhi, of the Dalai Lama, Martin Luther King, and so many others echo in our collective minds with stories of peace, hope and love.

But it is those 23 individual words from my daughter and from my son that light up my life. They could have celebrated Mother’s Day with gifts of flowers and food. Instead, they lit up my life from within, giving me their gift of words. Today, when you are talking, remember how powerful and packed with meaning your words may be. Choose them carefully, so that your intended message is clear and definitive.

If you hear something like my 23 words, consider yourself blessed.

Give “it” enough energy!

The internet was out again. No worries, I just have to head upstairs, unplug and replug the router. I get upstairs, but realize I’m a bit peckish so I turn into the kitchen. A handful of nuts and a cup of tea later, I’m halfway back down the stairs before I realize I can’t remember why I came upstairs in the first place.

Sound familiar? I used to think it was old age, and my brain was slowing down. Perhaps it is because my brain is too full and there isn’t enough room for trivial things. But the truth is simply this: when I realized I needed to go upstairs, I just pushed my chair back and went upstairs, and my energy of thought switched from the internet to simply going up the stairs.

Which makes me laugh because just 2 weeks ago, I did a workshop with about 10 people and I had their names memorized within the first 10 minutes. Why can I remember all those names but not why I went upstairs?

Simple. When I listened to each person introduce themselves, I focused on each of them. I made a conscious choice to listen and I expended energy doing it. I focused energy by listening, wrote each name down in my book and eventually said their name out loud. So all in all, I listened, transcribed and spoke. I had to commit all that energy to learn their names.

When I went upstairs, I stopped thinking about why and my mind wandered to other things. There are a dozen e mails to answer, gotta vacuum the stairs, I should brush those dogs, I wonder how Eleanor’s Mom is doing….my brain was juggling all sorts of ideas and images, and the priority item of fixing the internet didn’t receive enough energy or focus, so I forgot about it.

Continual Partial Attention (CPA), a phrase coined by Linda Stone (http://lindastone.net/qa/continuous-partial-attention) describes how many of us think today. We want to connect with everything and not miss anything. We are constantly shifting thoughts and ideas around in our heads like shells in a shell game. On top of that, we are using our computers and cell phones, constantly checking e mails and text messages, and we are on hyper-alert to possibilities. We are living in an age of interruption. As a result, nothing gets our complete attention – we pay partial attention to a million things.

Sheila and CPA - listening, writing and reading. (But I bet she remembered everything!)

Sheila and CPA – listening, writing and reading. (But I bet she remembered everything!)

Yet I know, when I pay complete attention and give something the energy it requires, I learn more, experience more, and ultimately appreciate it more. When I turn my attention to those individuals in my workshop, I learned not just their names, but their values and priorities, something that will help me to work better with them. When I focus my energy on the task at hand, be it a briefing note, learning names in a workshop, planning a training session, or even learning a new fiddle tune, I am startlingly more successful when I commit sufficient energy and give my complete attention.

It’s not just our work that will benefit from giving something complete attention by committing enough energy to it. Next time you’re talking or listening to a colleague or a loved one, focus your energy on them, and not on the thousand other details zinging around in your head. Really concentrate and commit your energy to the conversation. You will both appreciate the effort and be happier for it.

My lesson from this? I can memorize anything, if put my energy into doing it. I can write a great briefing note/strategy/workshop outline, etc. if I put my energy into doing just that. I can develop and keep wonderful relationships, too, if I use energy to focus on them.

Logan and Susan, our complete attention on the Pooh stick we threw in the Cowichan river.

Susan and Logan, our complete attention on the Pooh stick we threw in the Cowichan river.

Now, if I could just remember why I came upstairs again!!!

Phantom pain and the scent of pine

I’ve been working pretty hard and the to-do list on my desk is a bit overwhelming. Time for a run. I suit up and head out the front door. The first part of any run from home involves a bit of trail running, so I have to focus carefully on where I step. But once I get out on the road, my mind wanders and I think about other things.

I was flying up Escarpment hill, and an unbidden cacophony of scattered  “to-dos” dance around in my head – gotta finish writing up workshop results, do a briefing note – who reads them anyway? – plan for the team training initiative – who will be there? upgrade the latest strategy…OMG!

PAIN! Lightning bolts of agony below my left knee cause me to stumble and sway, like the theatrical soccer player who flings himself on the ground when he stubs his toe, as Merebeth well knows! I’m cursing out loud, angry and helpless.

I am so stupid. Yet again, I let the stress of work take over my life, and my body’s reaction is one of extreme, phantom pain. When I broke my leg years ago, I had all sorts of metal inserted and screwed into my bones. Over time, as my leg healed, most of the titanium has been removed. But I find when I am under stress, I get phantom pain in my leg where the screws used to be. Each time it happens, it is related directly to my own state of mind, and I have learned I can make it stop very quickly, if I can reduce my stress.

LIttle scars below my knee mark the history of titanium screws in my leg.

Little scars below my knee mark the history of titanium screws in my leg.

According to Mika Nagel, Studio Director at Chopra Yoga Centre (and I imagine according to most practitioners who deal with this topic), stress is a choice. Rather than value and savour the moments I was spending running, I had chosen to think about my workload. My body’s reaction was one that forced me to stop experiencing the stress and focus on something else completely…PAIN. Talk about a wake up call.

Naturally, despite the pain, I don’t stop running. I’m a runner. We don’t do that. But the pain forcibly reminded me that I need to allow myself to experience the run. I can and should be mindful of the moment and shift my perspective, bringing awareness to the here and now, and not the “what if”.

Funny, when I do that, two things happen. First, I inhale and my nose is filled with the sweet scent of pine. And second, as I push-off with my leg to run another step, the pain is not noticeable.

I realize that the pine scent comes from branches torn off tree stems during a storm last week; I see two pileated woodpeckers chasing each other into those very trees; the heat from the spring sunshine makes my hair stick to the back of my neck, when the day before, I was wearing mittens…all that I would have missed, if I had still been thinking about…what was I thinking about?

When I am mindful of the moment, I succeed. If I am working, I am productive and I don’t miss out because I am perpetually functioning with focused attention. When I am running (insert whatever you want here), I don’t miss out either because I am mindful of what I am experiencing at the time.

Try it. Let’s hope you don’t wait until your phantom pain brings you to a grinding halt. Choose mindfulness, choose to pay attention to the present.  Life can be profoundly moving and you don’t want to miss it. Enjoy the sweet scent of the pine.

Things that matter the most

Well, the house is on the market and an offer is in. If all goes well, I’ll be out of this house that I’ve lived in for the past 26 years in mid July. Holy cow.  I wander around through the rooms, and memories spill into my mind and tears spill down my face. I think about Rory’s first days here, when I was learning how to be a mother. There was the time Jaime marked her entire body with blue permanent marker, but purposefully kept her diaper clean! I remember lying in bed with a broken leg, Olivia C. rushing in to hug me with tears in her eyes. Or morning coffees last summer with Olivia T. before we both went to work. I will miss all those moments.

Last week, while I was in Whistler, something happened that made me consider things that mattered the most. I was on top of Harmony Ridge with three friends, and they had already taken off to get to the big bumps in the bowl. I looked around at the mountains and they just took my breath away. Then I pushed off, and as I rounded a corner, there was one of my friends waiting for me. The mountains were spectacular, but what mattered the most was that he had waited.

Lori McKenna,  singer/ songwriter from Massachusetts (
http://lorimckenna.com
/) writes:

“My life is pieces of paper that I’ll get back to later. I’ll write you a story how I ended up here. Why the little things make us and how long it takes us, to figure out what matters the most. . . .”

Why does it take us so long to figure out what matters most? I don’t know. But I decided I should consider what mattered most from my Whistler trip, because all those little things reflect what is important in the rest of my life. Here they are. Some are serious, some sad, some silly, but all are meaningful. You might want to think about how they reflect the things that matter most in your life…

  • the feeling of joy that swells in my chest as soon as I see the mountains. That joy can’t be bottled or shared, but it makes me smile uncontrollably. How amazing is that?
  • standing in the village, laughing and singing John Prine songs at the top of our lungs with a street musician, and just for a moment, nothing else matters but the song.
  • going into Starbucks and after the second morning, the staff just took the mugs I was holding and gave me an Americano and Pike Place. To be remembered is a wonderful, empowering thing.
  • going to the bathroom at Horseman Hut, then heading down 7th Heaven, realizing I have to go again…and knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Kira will just say “Okay, we’ll stop and I’ll wait for you” and I don’t have to feel bad about it! How lucky am I?
  • my father’s voice on the phone when I call to tell him about my day, and to find that he’s been online looking at maps of Whistler so he’d better know where I was.
  • …and being waited for at the top of Harmony.
The power of friendship...so lucky!

The power of friendship…so lucky!

As I look at that list, I don’t see things like houses or money or anything big. Look at it yourself, and this is what you see:

  • a feeling of joy
  • a song
  • delight at being remembered
  • strength of friendship
  • love
  • a feeling of being valued

It is the little things that matter the most. And now, It is the memories that matter in this house, not the house itself. I can’t lose those by selling my house. It is the feelings, the song, the delight, the friendship, love and the value that matter from my ski trip. I’m no longer in Whistler, but I can’t lose those either.

I got home, then headed back to Ottawa for meetings. As I was leaving, my boss and one of my colleagues both hugged me goodbye. Those things matter the most.

“My life is green grass through the snow , a sweet reckless hope, and baby I know what matters the most”