Monthly Archives: April 2016

Art is what happens to you…

29 Friday Apr 2016

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Art- it’s exciting when a piece of art surprises you by impacting you in a way you never thought it would.

My husband and I took a half vacation day to explore the AGO (Art Gallery of Ontario). We had wanted to do this on Leap Day (Feb. 29, 2016) but it fell on a Monday and the Gallery is not open on Mondays.

So, we decided to do it yesterday.

We took the elevator to the top floor and found a volunteer leading a tour who invited us to join. Usually, I would want to just explore these things on my own, but today I was feeling like I could use a little extra input into what it was we were going to be seeing, so we joined in.

I’m so glad we did.

The very first installation we saw was one created by Micah Lexier. It was “a work of art in the form of a quantity of coins equal to the number of months of the statistical life expectancy of a child born January 6, 1995.”

Normally, I would look at something like this and think: “Huh…ok. Kind of interesting, I guess.” And not give it very much thought beyond that.

But, as we looked at it our volunteer tour guide said:

“Notice how the coins in the first box are neatly ordered and purposefully placed. This is the expectation of what life will bring-the hopes. This is how we all start out. Now look at the coins in the second box. It always reminds me of a line of a famous John Lennon song: ‘life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans’.”

And then the tears came.

First of all, the installation reflected things I’ve been having about my own life for some time. For years now I have been trying to teach myself how to be present in the moment and realize that this is life.

There was a period of time when I felt I was constantly waiting for my life to begin. And then, all of a sudden, I looked and I saw a box, much like this chaotic box of coins, and I realized that this was my life. Life was here in all this mess, disorganisation and the many unplanned events and bends in the road.

I had been expecting to look at my life and see it as the first box: Ordered, dreams fulfilled, everything in its place, looking exactly as I had imagined it would. But, I have recently come to realize and accept my life as being beautiful, despite the fact that it looks so different to what I had originally envisioned.

Just as the neatly organized coins have their beauty, so do the scattered. And, as I looked at the 2 boxes the one thing remained the same, despite how the coins were placed, they were all in “my box”. And, that’s really what is important. Whether the coins are neat, or scattered, they are mine. They are my memories, experiences, struggles, victories, joys, sorrow – my life. And that’s beautiful.

Secondly, I sing that song to my son all the time. And, as I looked at these coins, I saw my neatly organized hopes and dreams for what his life will be in the first box and the reality of what it will actually be in the 2nd. I realized that his life, just like mine, is going to be what it’s going to be. I can’t control it and I won’t be able to keep it neatly organized for him. He’s going to experience pain, sorrow, frustration, disappointment, confusion and chaos. But, there will also be joy, love, freedom, hope, comfort and adventure.

There will come a time when the 2 coins that are currently in his box will be at the bottom of this heap of messy coins, almost forgotten. Except, the image of how they are now in their near perfection, will always remain in my heart. At some point, there will have to be a letting-go.

As I stood there contemplating all of this I made a promise to myself to help teach my son how to not miss life because he’s trying to keep his coins in order. I want to teach him to embrace the chaos that is life and to see the beauty in it while it is happening.

Out on the ocean sailing away
I can hardly wait
To see you come of age
But I guess we’ll bot just have to be patient
‘Cause it’s a long way to go
A hard row to hoe
Yes, it’s a long way to go
But in the meantime

-John Lennon-

 

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265 (Apr. 27) 267.3 (Apr. 28) Pizza, Art and Fran’s

28 Thursday Apr 2016

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I had pizza for dinner on Tuesday night from Papa John’s. Grilled Chicken, bacon, roma tomatoes and five-cheese. It was so delicious and I had 4 slices.

I stepped on the scale on Wednesday morning and was surprised to see 265-My goal weight!

However, I knew that the pizza hadn’t quite caught up with me, so kept my excitement at bay. Also, I knew that I had planned on having lunch with my husband before heading to the AGO to check-out some art.

We went to Fran’s, one of our favourite joints for lunch. If you live in Toronto, you will probably know about Fran’s. I ordered a “Big Breakfast” knowing that I had pizza last night and probably should have been “taking it easy” on the food-front…sausage, bacon, eggs, toast, home fries and pancakes! [sarcasm]

I ate 2 sausages, 1 bacon, a few bites of toast and eggs, all the home fries and both pancakes. I really love their home fries.

We spent the entire afternoon walking, but I guess fairly low-key, as my steps and calories didn’t seem to burn-out that quickly, despite the fact that I did.

Looking at art is amazing, but it’s actually very tiring as well. When I first arrived I was very teary and everything was making me cry. By the end, everything just started to look the same. This is when I knew it was time to leave, but not before finding the Renoir. I love Renoir. He is my favourite artist of all time.

When we finally made it home, after picking-up our son, I was utterly exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally. I warmed-up 2 leftover pieces of pizza for dinner and shared them with my son.

This morning when I stepped on the scale, my weight was back up to 267.3. Damn.

The temptation to feel disappointed in myself and go on a bender looms overhead. But, I know better now. There is no need for me to be disappointed. I am doing an incredible job and, I’m just going to keep going.

An important change of thinking for me is to not look at these meals as “mistakes” or with the mentality that I now have to “starve” or “be good” to make up for it, but to just treat them as any other meal. Like a normal person. I don’t have to feel guilty about choosing to have pizza one night instead of eggs and toast.

This is life. I made good choices in the midst of it all. I could have eaten more pizza than I did, but I stopped myself. I could have kept all the pizza for myself, but I shared it with my husband and child and I could have eaten my entire “big breakfast” despite feeling full/satisfied instead of stopping when I felt I had eaten enough.

265 is within reach and I will get there again. More important than that number, I tried some of my “summer” clothes on that I couldn’t fit a couple of months ago, and they fit comfortably now. And, even more important than the clothes, I am feeling good. I feel my body and I can tell there have been positive changes.

I’m still inspired to keep working on these life-long changes and am determined to work on things in little increments so that the changes will be long-lasting and truly transform my approach to food, health, weight loss and nutrition.

266.7 The Magic Flute

25 Monday Apr 2016

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Back when I started this massive attempt at addressing the deeper issues in my lifestyle that I felt were contributing to my inability to lose weight, I created a “goals” calendar for myself.

I had a point system that went something like this:

Daily Points:
Drink 4×24 ounce water = 1 pt
Eat 1 serv vegetable = 1pt
Eat 1 serv fruit = 1pt
No pop = 1pt
1 serv Protein = 1 pt

And so forth.

Then, at the end of the week, I’d get extra points if I managed to do the daily things 3 or more times. For example:

4xwater 4xweek = 10 pts
Eat 1 veg/4xweek = 20 pts
No pop 4x/week = 40 pts

The pts could be adjusted depending upon which areas I found I was struggling with the most, etc.

I wanted to come-up with a prize that would keep me interested and for which I would actually do the work to obtain. So, I set myself the goal of 5, 000 pts (or 50lbs) = Flute.

I want to learn to play the flute because I play brass instruments, and mostly bass clef ones, which are heavy to lug around and loud. This creates a problem for me, because I don’t play often due to the fear that I’ll be disturbing our neighbours.

So, I figured if I learn an instrument that is quieter, I might be able to play more frequently.

This worked AMAZINGLY for the first 6 months. It was as if the flute had magical powers. I was drinking more water, exercising regularly, eating more vegetables, fruit and healthy protein and constantly trying to give-up diet soda.

But, as with all good things, it had to come to an end. I have found that I have now outgrown this point system. But, I still have something like 3500 pts to go before I can get a flute!

This has been an incredible way for me to track my progress. When I first started, I was getting very few points at the end of the week. I struggled to eat fruit and vegetables every day. But, now I can’t imagine not having them daily. Sure, there are still days (usually either Sat/Sun or both) where I’m mostly consuming bread. But, they are the exception now, not the rule.

So, the big question remaining is, how do I get myself my magic flute?

The answer seems simple enough. 50lbs down = Flute.

Only 41.7 more to go.

 

Sarah – 1

25 Monday Apr 2016

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“Please join us for the fireworks, Sarah. It’ll be a lot of fun.” Chris was being persistent in his attempts to encourage Sarah to join a small group of friends who had been hanging at her house and decided to go to check-out the Canada Day firework display.

“Alex will be disappointed if you aren’t there. He’s really hoping you come.”

Sarah and Alex had been spending a lot of time together and had had started texting regularly. This might seem like no big deal but this was back in the day when every text message cost you and there was no such thing as unlimited. If you were texting, it meant that someone meant enough to you to pay per flirt.

But, Sarah just wasn’t feeling it. She didn’t want to be out and around a bunch of people. She liked Alex well enough, but the truth was, she was in love with someone else.

Tonight she was feeling particularly melancholy after having a great evening with Alex and their friends, because she spent the entire time wishing Ben had been there, not him.

Alex was great. He was funny, intelligent, artistic, athletic and kind. He was slight of build which was not really her taste, but had a smile that could light up an entire city. They would talk about movies and art and he would share with her his dreams about becoming a famous photographer. There was something exciting about him and she liked being around him. She wanted to have his energy and thirst for life.

Alex had taken a summer off school and biked across Canada, a thought that would keep her up at night. She wanted to have the guts to try something like that, but felt overwhelmed that she wouldn’t know where to start.

A night of fireworks could have been the perfect setting to take their relationship up a level. This is what was in Sarah’s mind as Chris continued to beg her to join them. And this is why she said no.

She was in love with Ben and didn’t want to have a romantic evening with anyone but him. Chris saw that he was fighting a losing battle and finally left her to join the crew. She clung to her tea cup and listened as the sound of the group of revelers grew further away from her.

She sat in the kitchen for, nearly fifteen more minutes, in the silence, staring at the mustard coloured wall and then towards the entrance to the kitchen, hoping that, at any moment, Ben would walk through the door.

He never did.

Let’s Get Dirty

24 Sunday Apr 2016

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I love to write. But, it doesn’t always come easy. Sometimes there is a thought or idea in my head that I think will flow easily, but when I sit down to write, I soon realize that it is actually a tangled mess in my brain.

It is at these times I remind myself that I must be more disciplined with my writing. I have to carve time and be protective of it so that I have the opportunity to write a little bit, every day. This will give me the freedom to do a bit more with my writing and not get so hung-up on it.

The problem with writing a blog is that there is an expectation to sit down, write and have a finished product- just like that.

However, I want to explore my writing more than just making short editorials on life and memory. I want to work on my story writing again. It has been years, and I mean YEARS since I have taken the time to properly write a story.

In fact, the last time was probably in High School. I have been out of school since 1999. That is a long time.

I have been playing with the idea of just writing stuff, unfinished, in bits and pieces and just posting whatever it is that I have written. No matter how bad it might be.

This is my playground. This is my place just to get the writing muscles warmed up and back into some kind of shape.

I don’t need to feel like I need to be able to produce perfection from the start. I want to be able to just write, no matter what it is, and no matter how unfinished it might be, post it, be proud of it and continue to strengthen these chops.

I want to approach it like I am my health and fitness- progress is progress, no matter how little it might seem. A bunch of small changes all add-up over time. A little bit is better than none at all. It doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be something.

These are the kinds of mantras I tell myself about my health and I think I want to apply them to my writing as well. I’m writing, primarily, for myself. I’m writing as a release. This is the time for my brain to breathe. I have to allow it the room it needs to run around and play.

And so, I’m just going to start posting whatever it is I’ve managed to write in the times I have forced myself to set-aside and do some writing. It might be great and it might be complete rubbish. But, either way, it is my mind finding freedom, release and embracing life.

My friends have always told me that I’m a ‘windows are wide-open, curtains flapping in the breeze’ kind of a person because I’m really open with my thoughts, feelings and memories. I guess it’s just in keeping with that to allow my writing the same kind of freedom to just be what it’s going to be.

I heard a parent at a playground today tell their child to stop playing in the sand because he didn’t want him getting dirty. I thought that was one of the saddest things I’d ever heard a parent say to a child in a park and I thought ‘well, why did you bring him here, then? Isn’t having fun and getting dirty what it’s all about?’

I guess what I want to say to my mind is: Write.

Write. Write. Write. Write.

Get as dirty as you want to get. This is your playground. Go wild. Have fun. Get messy.

After all, that’s what we’re here to do.

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266.7 Gaining Control

21 Thursday Apr 2016

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1.7 lbs away from this month’s weight goal. Though, admittedly, the # goal is not as important to me as the emotional/mental goals I am working on. And, I’m pleased to say, that I’ve made some headway in these areas as well.

For years I have wished that I could, automatically, lose 1 lbs every time I made a good decision. Choose salad instead of french fries = 1 lbs lost instantly. Pass on the birthday cake at work = – 1lbs instantly. And so forth.

Well, I kind of feel, like I just had one of those moments. I went to a Tim Horton’s yesterday to pick-up donuts and muffins for a meeting I was attending and I ordered myself a tea and soup for lunch. I didn’t get a donut, I didn’t even get a Diet Pepsi.

Later in the day when i was at this meeting and the donuts were coming-out for folks to enjoy, I didn’t have one.

Fast forward to the evening and my husband mentions he is going to the corner store and asks if I want anything. I request some Coke Zero. But, I didn’t have it last night. He bought himself some chips and I didn’t feel jealous or reach for popcorn, toast or rice chips so that I would have a treat as well.

And, do you want to know why I didn’t have any of that stuff? Because, when I stopped and asked myself if I really wanted it, was I really hungry, did I really want pop this late in the evening? The answer was “no” every time.

I didn’t skip these things because “I’m on a diet”. I gave them a pass because I have been working on mindfulness and on separating reality from “treat mentality” and I realized in each situation that I was very content without the donut/pop/chips, etc.

There was no torture involved, no feelings of loss, no major struggle to say “no”, no feelings of ‘I really want that, but I can’t because I’m on a diet’.

Just plain, ‘ol, I don’t want it and that settles it.

I wonder if this is how people who don’t have the emotional attachments to food function on a regular day to day basis? If so, does this mean that I am making good progress in my mental/emotional goals this week, just as I am in my # goal?

I think so.

 

269.7 Give me Sugar and No one gets hurt

20 Wednesday Apr 2016

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I was thinking this morning about weekends. Weekends are tough. For years I have been conditioned to think that weekends are the time to have the things I won’t “allow” myself to have during the week. Weekends are for treats and enjoyment. They always feel like the time to ‘let my hair down’ and “enjoy life”.

There exists in this a false idea that I’m not “enjoying life” the other 5 days/week.

And, as I thought about how to “fix” my weekends so that they didn’t become a huge splurge-fest, I realized that the best place to start is to address this mentality. Because, I love what I eat during the week as well.

I’m not “starving myself” during the week, or forcing myself to eat foods I don’t enjoy to lose weight. First of all, I don’t have enough discipline and secondly, I like pleasure too much. Quality of life is important to me. I don’t want to suffer endlessly just to be thin. That is no way to live life.

But, I enjoy my homemade green smoothies, my salads and veggies, my eggs and toast, and water and coffee. I’m not missing out on anything. I’m eating things I enjoy.

So, why do I still have this mentality tucked-away in the recesses of my brain that tells me that I deserve to splash-out on weekends because I’ve “done so well” or “sacrificed so much” during the week?

I guess it’s that old dieters mentality. When you’ve tried to lose weight for almost your entire life, you develop a certain way of thinking. Things become classified as “good” and “bad”, there are “diet foods” and “treats” or “reward foods”.

When foods are classified in our brains as “good” there is always a sub-heading. It actually reads like this: Good – But, really bad (as in disgusting, not enjoyable, lesser-than). And, the vice versa is also true: Bad – But, really good (as in tastes so incredible, the stuff you really would rather be eating).

These headings get cemented in our brains with memories as well. For example: At birthday parties we don’t bring-out a huge veggie or fruit platter and celebrate. We do it with cake and ice cream.

As a child, whenever I went to the Dentist or Doctor, of if I had a particularly bad, or good, day at school, I was given McDonald’s or a DQ Blizzard as a special treat.

Chips, chocolate, cookies, cakes, pop, candy…these were the things you were given on special occasions. They were given to celebrate, to console, to comfort and to reward. Using these treats as a reward trains our brains to classify them as ‘better’ and the foods ‘to be desired’ and all the regular food as ‘not as good’ or ‘less special’.

There are also chemical reactions certain foods have in our brains and the release of dopamine is comparable to that of drinking alcohol or consuming other. For a bit more information you can check out these sites:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/200301/real-sugar-high

http://www.webmd.com/food-recipes/your-brain-on-sugar?page=1

https://www.nerdfitness.com/blog/2013/06/17/everything-you-need-to-know-about-sugar/

But, I have found, lately, as I have been trying to be more mindful when I am eating, that these “treats” are not really as enjoyable as they promise to be. There may be a a brief dopamine hit, but it fades and I realize that the actual food is not that enjoyable any more. However, because they are so wrapped-up in memories of rewards, a history of emotions, and the happy dopamine buzz, I want to keep eating them because I know, from memory, that they brought happiness and I’m expecting them to do it again.

I treated myself to a Boston Cream donut on the weekend and, it was ok. But really, my thoughts of it were ‘meh’-I didn’t really need that. BUT, when I had a few bites of my son’s grilled chicken wrap…YUM. That was something I truly enjoyed and I had wished I had skipped the donut and treated myself to one of those instead.

I have learned a lot watching my son, actually. We never fed him sweets or offered sugar cookies, drinks, etc. to him until recently. And, we found that he doesn’t like them. I suspect that this is because he has, since he was 4 months old, enjoyed natural foods and when we offer him the confectionery it just doesn’t taste as good. I’d like to raise him without the treat mentality. I want him to continue to be overjoyed when he sees we purchased a watermelon or cantaloupe and have zero feelings when he sees a packet of brownies. But, I have to get it right in myself first.

Therefore, on top of working on mindful eating, I am also going to be working on retraining my brain. I want to break this “treat mentality” and learn to have a healthier attitude to all foods.

 

271.1 – A Weighty Issue

18 Monday Apr 2016

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Throughout my life, I have found it very frustrating and discouraging how much my weight can fluctuate. My last post saw me at 268.7 and I was feeling very positive. I had given myself a goal of reaching 265 by April 30th and when I saw that # I thought, ‘maybe I can actually reach that goal’. And then, getting on the scale this morning I think ‘there’s no way I’m reaching that goal’.

This is not a new struggle. There have been many times before when I was doing great at this ‘being healthy’ thing and would step on the scale and be up a few, and as much as 5, pounds. And, historically, I would come crashing down and I would give up. ‘If I’m going to gain weight anyway, I may as well eat whatever I like.’

This see-saw of weight and emotions is one of the reasons I have decided to post my weight. It’s important for me to see that it is not the most reliable measurement of the hard work I am putting in. It’s a number. Ultimately, we want to see it trending downwards, but I’m no longer going to allow myself to be discouraged when I step on the scale and the number is up from last time.

Posting my weight (a thought that terrified me a few months ago) has been really positive for me. I used to think that someone other than me knowing what I weighed would be the most humiliating, horrible, dreadful thing.

But, posting the # has, actually, diminished its power and its hold over me. I’m not embarrassed or ashamed like I thought I would be. In fact, I’m proud. I’m proud of myself for being honest about who I am and having the guts to tell the world. I’m also proud of how I don’t feel ashamed about it. It’s good to know that I have that much respect for myself.

I have people in my life who love me just the way I am but up until now, they didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know how fat I really am, because only I knew the “real number”. Now they do. And, guess what? Nothing has changed. They still love me just as much. And now that the ‘dirty little secret’ is out and I’m still loved and accepted and there was no cataclysmic event that followed, I realize just how meaningless the # really is.

This is who I am and, I love myself for who I am. Would I like to see changes? Yes. Does that mean I don’t like myself now? No. Would I like the # to go down and be smaller? Yes. Am I going to get hung-up on it and discouraged if it doesn’t? No.

I am loved. I love myself. I’m doing my best and I am enjoying my life.

You can’t put a weight on that.

268.7

15 Friday Apr 2016

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268.7

I climbed the CN Tower!

Ok, no I haven’t. But, I’m gonna. The Spring climb of the tower is taking place this weekend and, last week, when I first heard it was happening this weekend I thought to myself ‘I want to do that’. But, I am nowhere near in shape to just jump-in and do it this weekend.

Part of me would like to try and give myself that ultimate challenge. But, the problem is that, once you get going you have no choice but getting to the top to get yourself back down. It’s not like a run where, if you just can’t go any more you can just step off to the side, rest and then go home.

You have to get to the top.

And, because I’m, seriously, afraid I would die in the attempt, I’ve decided to train with the goal of entering next spring.

There is one in Autumn as well, but I think I want to give myself a year to really prepare.

And so, I started climbing all the flights of stairs at work 2xday. My building is only 10 stories and I felt like I was dying towards the top. So, I have a long way to go.

I’m going to do the stairs 1xmorning and 1xafternoon, increasing how many times I can go up/down as I can. I’m going to stick with going up/down once until I feel like I’m not about to die around the 7th story.

After doing the stairs yesterday, I had “Gumby” legs. I felt like one of those little toys you can get where, if you press the platform that the toy is standing on downwards, the toys legs crumble.

gumby legs

I had read that climbing stairs uses the calf muscles a lot, but I was feeling it mainly in my quads and lats…until around 2am. I went to roll over in bed and felt this horrible pain in my calves. Yup, there it is. And today, I’m feeling the burn.

I love it though. I also slept better last night than I have in weeks. I’m sure this has to do with a) better diet; b) more water and; c) those breaks of exercise during the day when I got my heart pumping.

As I was climbing the stairs yesterday I wondered if you could listen to music while doing the CN Tower climb. It might be considered hazardous. But, if I could I was trying to think about what songs would be on my playlist:

Climb Every Mountain (From Sound of Music)
Ain’t No Mountain High Enough (Marvin Gaye)
The Climb (Miley Cyrus)
Don’t Stop Me Now (Queen)
Elevation (U2)

Thankfully, I have some time to create the perfect playlist.

Why Can’t We all just Get along?

14 Thursday Apr 2016

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I don’t understand hatred. I can’t wrap my head around the things that humans do to one another.

This world really baffles me some times. I recently read a post on Facebook about someone who had been treated poorly because of the colour of their skin. In the comments below this person’s friends, rightfully, expressed outrage at what was happening to people of their colour. Then, as I continued to read the comments one person said something along the lines of ‘stupid (insert racial slur against people of a different culture), they think they can come here and take over our country’.

What?!

You’re raging about how your people are being treated in one sentence and turning around and treating people of a different ethnicity than yours with the same lack of respect.

I just don’t get it.

I’ve never understood racism or bigotry or even just plain rudeness, for that matter.

I don’t even like it when my husband is terse with telemarketers. I used to let them go through their entire spiel until I realized that doing that wasn’t the nicest thing I could do for them, because they have a certain amount of calls and a certain amount of deals they have to make to reach targets and get paid, etc. So, now I try to interrupt them early on in a polite way by saying “Not right now, thank you” or “I’m not interested, thank you”. But, I don’t feel like I can hang up until they have said “bye”. And I always say “but thank you, anyways” one more time for good measure. My husband teases me because I feel too badly to just hang up.

Recently, I heard about a teenage boy with down syndrome who always wanted to be part of the “group” of guys at school and one day he thought he had got his wish. It was a cold day in February, with the temperature well in the minus digits, when he received a text from a boy in the group saying “we’re all hanging at the mall. You should come join us. Wear shorts, it’s kinda our thing’. Meet outside the front doors.” The boy arrived, in shorts, and stood outside in the cold waiting for the group of boys. They were inside, warmly wearing pants, laughing at him and filming him standing outside in shorts, waiting for them.

I

Don’t

Get

It.

I just don’t.

My brain goes into convulsions anytime I hear things like this and almost completely shuts down because it cannot seem to process such things. I feel like it’s a bit of a problem, because I live in a state of suspended disbelief and denial all the time.

So, I try to understand it on a smaller, personal, level. I know that when I am feeling hurt, I can get mean. When I am hurt, a monster rages inside of me like you could not believe (well, my husband could, he sees this monster frequently enough). And, I could see myself doing all kinds of things that seem out of the ordinary for me because of it.

Is that what is happening here? Are people just hurt all the time and being mean because of it?

Could this be why someone, rudely, pushes you on a streetcar without so much as an “I’m sorry”? Is this why the boys in the story above thought it was funny to pick on someone, embarrass and endanger him?

Whatever the reasons, I don’t really understand it. I don’t understand gay-bashing, fat-shaming, racism, sexism, or people being mean or rude or even unhelpful.

Why don’t people want to be nicer to one another? I guess that’s what I’m saying I don’t get.

I live every day with a desire to be as nice as I can to everyone around me. And not just that. I don’t want to just be nice to those around me, I feel a deep drive to go beyond myself and help to make things a bit better or easier for people with whom I come in contact. Regardless of race, colour, sex, station in life, and so forth. I want to make the world a better place and if that means something as easy as saying “Thank you” to our streetcar driver, buying milk for someone who asks for it at Tim Horton’s or even something as simple as giving a smile to someone to acknowledge their existence, I like doing it.

I always assumed that this is the way people were. But, I’m learning otherwise.

Is it that people are not being raised to try and see things from others’ perspectives? Whenever I encounter a new person, issue, problem, etc. my initial thoughts are always ones of ‘how do I best understand this situation/person?’ and I automatically shift to ‘seeing it from that perspective’.
Maybe this is because I love complexities and have trained myself from a young age to always look at ‘the other side of the coin’ before making any snap judgements.

My Mom always used to tell us to be nice to waitresses/cashiers and anyone who was serving us in any way, because you never know what kind of day they might be having. You never know what sorrows, frustrations and pain someone is carrying around with them at any time.

And so, I assume everyone has something that is tough in their lives and I try to ensure I don’t add to that-or, if possible, maybe even bring some relief. Even if just for a moment.

Is it really that difficult?

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