Banquet

First, I'm still here. Spent the better part of four days asleep, battling fever and one heck of a headache that still won't leave. But I'm still here.

This year's banquet was different for me than any other, and probably not for the same reasons as everyone else. It was the first year that I was not officially a part of the team. It was the first year I was not in the demo and the first year that I did not help with the set up or tear down. I felt very much separate from it all, and I didn't like it much. Maybe it was the headache.

The banquet itself was great, you guys really did a great job with the organization and all the performances. Congrats to everyone who was recognized or promoted, and to the rest of you who made it happen. I'm sorry I wasn't a bigger part of it.

It kinda sucked when I realized I wasn't needed. But I guess thats the whole point of a team- if one person stumbles the rest are there to fill in the gap. So thanks guys. It was a great night because of you.

The Not Stage Fright Stage Fright

So in this past week I've already been on then off then on the band wagon. I love weekends just like normal people, but this last long weekend really threw a kink into my new, young schedule and for three days I didn't do much other than pretend I was an electrician. I had time, not saying I was too busy, but I cannot bring myself to work on my requirements or do a set of sit ups when someone is in the room. The little bit I do at the kwoon when everyone is there is about the extent of my public practice, and only because I'm surrounded by others doing the same thing and I can get lost in the crowd. I've been with Nick for 10 years but I can't for the life of me practice in front of him.

I don't understand it. I have no problems teaching a room full of people, staring at me and trusting me to have the answers. But I can't do my own thing. It's infuriating at times. Last Saturday I had asked Sifu M Beckett for some feedback on my snake and I noticed the dragon dance team was standing right there, some with their faces turned to me. I almost stopped, but I didn't because I had asked her for her time and did not want to waste it. But it's hard to be mindful about what you're doing when you're so mindful about everything but what you're doing.

So this makes it hard, considering this is supposed to be a public journey, show the school what you're made of and how to drive for mastery. I'd much prefer to work on my own, in the privacy of my living room in the middle of the day when the world is at their day jobs and the only witness is the cat. Is this stage fright? I've done performances and demonstrations, dance recitals, taught seminars in a room full of professionals. Given testimony in a court of law. Explained haploid diploidy to a room full of university students. Ran a small school. So no, I don't consider this stage fright.

To me, it's the one time when being mindful is a hinderance.

Power of Journaling

A long time ago my mom gave me a whole bunch of stuff from my childhood. Old clothes, doll clothes, schoolwork and baby pictures. She also gave me a journal she had kept during my first year.

I read the journal this morning. I was looking for something else and came across it, decided to flip it open and the first thing I saw was something about playing with my dad and brother one morning. I flipped to a few other pages then sat down and read it from one end to the other. Quite a bit about how I was a smiling happy baby, but I always acted shy around my grandmother. How Rene loved me but we fought over toys, and how I could hold my own against my 2 1/2 year old brother. How my first word was cat and I would laugh when they came in the room. How my mother loved me.

I've had this journal for quite a while, but I was never very interested. Obviously it was about a part of my life I didn't remember and I didn't have much interest in hearing about how many times I napped, or my first vaccine. But that wasn't what it was about. My mom was just writing about the day to day activities we shared, how I played with my toys, about the blouse my Oma made for me, about how I was the only baby who didn't sleep in the car or how I was always happy to get back home.

I'm very thankful to my mom now for taking the time to write these things down. They are small things but I find that now they mean the world to me. I could tell by her writing that she loved me and she told me how I would make her laugh.

There it is, the power of journaling. Small things that make up a larger picture, that can affect us even thirty odd years later and is now working, making me want to make her proud all over again. Motivating me to better myself.

Love you mom, and thank you.

Losing Battle

I got my windshield replaced a couple days ago and whilst waiting for my car another fellow came in for a rock chip repair. As he sat down he started talking to me, so I put my book down and smiled politely. He started off telling me about how he got the rock chip. You see, his F-150 was only 2 weeks old, and while driving down 37 someone passed him and he got a chip in his windshield. This man went on to tell me how he chased the offending vehicle all the way to Fort Saskatchewan, but alas, he got away.

The man then picked up the newspaper and started flipping through it. I went back to my book. He started chuckling in a way that was meant for me to notice, so I looked up and saw he was looking at the sports section. He begins to tell me how overpaid these players are, the Oilers are a joke and he hasn't watched a game since the strike. They're all overpaid babies. If one of them lost all their teeth in a fight he would laugh.

What do I say to that? I said nothing and went back to my book.

Then he asks me if I knew Trudeau was in Alberta. I said no, I wasn't aware. He says to me I'd love to meet him. I thought to myself really? Wow, maybe I misjudged him. Then he continues to tell me that he would love to meet him face to face but the encounter would probably land him in jail with assault charges.

I wanted to ask the man if he was happy. Is this how you always converse with strangers? Start with the negative and go from there? Is there anything that would make you happy, or does everything everyone does offend you? Because it was obvious his shiny new expensive truck and steady job (by the way, he was there getting the chip fixed on his private vehicle on company time) wasn't enough to make him happy. As often materials things don't.

This encounter made me sad. It's hard not to pity people like this. They see only the negative and if something beautiful was in front of him he would probably only get mad that it was in the way. What do you do in a situation like this? I was not about to argue the merits of our new pm with a stranger in business lobby. But I was not about to encourage him either.

So I read my book. I want to help people be happy, but sometimes you just don't know how.