Spring is a ridiculous miracle every single time, all that ice and snow and freezing cold, and then one day it starts to all feel differently. Last weekend it was so warm that I was in the yard with short sleeves and marvelling at what is already poking through the earth – irises, lilies, all kinds of grasses and, of course, the hardiest plants in my yard, the ones I call weeds.

A weed by definition is a plant that is where I do not want it. Golden rod is a native plant and provides important bee food, but left unchecked would take over my entire yard. Thistles are revered in Scotland, but at my place I have special gloves for pulling them out by the dozen. 

The stuff that makes weeds grow all over the place is their strength, their adaptability to different challenges, their hardiness in all kinds of weather. Countless times I have bought something beautiful from the greenhouse and it did not make it through the first winter. Weeds, however, are all about tenacity, strength, resilience and the ability to just keep blooming no matter how many times they are pulled out or mowed.

So while my habits in the garden will still be to control the spread, let’s take a moment to think about this. The survivors and thrivers in this world take no notice of who is trying to mow them down. Pay no mind to the discouragers, the critics, the negative, the problem finders. What can we learn from a weed is keep on growing, keep on finding a way to expand into your potential, keep on blooming – and make the space you are in that much fuller of life and strength. 

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I am amazed by complicated highway systems. I cannot picture their grids and swirls in my head, but I am an expert at following the signs. 

I often must attend meetings near the Toronto International Airport. When leaving to get back home, I just merge onto whatever the sign overhead is telling me will take me to 401 East. The same when I am dropping someone off at the airport, just follow the signs that lead me out of the airport complex and, before I know it, I am on the 401 east and I really have no idea how I got there.  Other people I know can picture the Toronto grid, have a better sense of direction than I, understand how all these 400 series highways intersect and where they all go.  Not me, I follow the signs or the captivating voice of my GPS.  

I think there is comparison to be made here about a lot of things.  Many of us want to see the whole landscape, understand where each move might take us or not, see the entire spectrum of possibilities. Then there are times when, like my airport road excursions, we are just too much in the middle of unknown territory and making the next right move in real time, without looking much beyond where to merge. 

I think there is definitely a time for both ways of travel. A time to leap and trust the signs and a time to print the map out, study all the possibilities and make a plan.  Maybe the magic elixir is to know when it is the right time for which kind of planning.  Long range strategic direction setting or short-range crisis response, and then when to move out of day-to-day reacting into a more planned out long-term course of action.  Then adding a bit of time when you have reached the destination to look back and evaluate if the road you took or the plan you made was the route to remember for next time.   When my dad and I travelled, we sometimes got lost, this was before GPS systems, and he would always say, all roads lead to home.

There is a tremendous line in the television show Afterlife starring Ricky Gervais, his character being told by a wise friend: “Happiness is amazing, its so amazing, it doesn’t matter if its yours or not.”

Now, let’s just sit with this for a moment… when I am upset, or scared, or worried or sad, someone else is happy. That is the way it works, people in their own lanes experiencing their own journeys, sometimes doing better than us, sometimes not.

Happiness could be seen as a mildly overused idea that we are smiling and walking in some kind of field of blooming flowers wearing flowing clothing? Or is it just that feeling deep down that we are where we need to be, that we have done something to be proud of, that things are going to work out or that someone around us is feeling theses things?

Happiness is amazing, we can lean on the contentment, joy and accomplishments of others when we’re running on empty. How stupendous then, that there are billions of people around us, close up and far away, to see being happy in their turns. New jobs, retirements, babies, weddings, new hobbies, new loves, excursions, graduations, even the odd divorce celebration complete with the ceremonial burning of the wedding dress – these things are making people around us happy and it is easily infectious if we celebrate for a moment with them. It doesn’t matter if its yours or not, its just there to be felt, to be celebrated to be noticed. There will be time for each of us to light up our wedding dresses of joy in our turn.

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In a book club I am part of we just read Michelle Obama’s book, The Light We Carry.  Here is the thing, Michelle Obama is a polished, professional, glamourous, strong change-maker who spent eight years in the Whitehouse, wearing designer gowns to receptions, addressing the nation and just being visible and fantastic.  So, it would stand to reason that her book could be about how to choose a designer gown based on the country of origin of the diplomats or graceful exits from a limousine or how to be photogenic at all times of the day or night. 

Instead, though Michelle Obama’s book gave me a glimpse into her thoughts that are so often like all of ours. She questions, she has anxiety, she second guesses her actions and she, like all of us, has to decide each day to face fears and keep on going. She speaks so eloquently about being seen, knowing who you are and staying in that focus to run your own race. 

Michelle offers: “There are people in this world who are more comfortable and feel more powerful when others are made to feel isolated, broken or unwelcome.”  She envisions a world in which people can all be seen for the unique capabilities and that each of us has  our trusted “kitchen table” friends to shore us up when we are battle weary. 

I so often try to tell people I love at my kitchen table to shine bright and let the critics stay in the stands with their sharp comments returned to sender, sometimes I even do that myself.  What I think we can all take away, again and again, is that everyone is working on their own race and, yes, it looks like some have an easier time, designer active wear and all the confidence in the world. 

We just cannot assume, there is so much we don’t know about the fears and criticisms and weight that each person carries.  All we can do is keep going, keep shining our light, do our best and wish the naysayers well while cancelling our subscription to their commentary.  And we keep on going, keep on trying, keep on shining our light.

Photo: Michelle Obama visits the Treasury by U.S. Department of the Treasury is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0

What was the greatest compliment you’ve ever received? It is my greatest hope that there are several from which to choose; however, I know we all have a few that make us smile just to remember. Two great compliments stand out for me, the first in grade four when the smartest, funniest and most popular kid in my class, Jeff Walker, turned to me and said, “You are very funny.” Truly I think this feedback gave me the confidence to try to be humourous and to regale my family and friends with my high-class humour in all these intervening years.

I received the second super memorable compliment when I worked in a community home near Oshawa; I had two children under three and I felt tired and overwhelmed all the time. A co-worker said to me that she admired how I came in for each shift looking well put together and ready for anything. I think this compliment instilled in me the idea that whatever is going on, I can bring it and get it done. This comment was just what I needed to feel like I was contributing despite my frazzled state.

Compliments can change our trajectory in big and small ways. Here is the thing, they have less impact if sprinkled all over the place in a disingenuous fire hose method to anyone standing close by. People want to be seen, heard and given some space. Speak up when you notice something great big and small, you never know what the whole story of a person’s day is, that one comment about having your hair done with only a hint of baby food in it could be the ticket to a more energetic day and a long-cherished memory.

You just never know, and it literally costs nothing to pass on a little hint of complimentary fuel to the journey of the others around you. Notice what’s great, and even in a messy day of lots going wrong, you will notice more of what’s great starts to happen. And to Jeff Walker, if this gets to you, many have since told me I am not that funny – especially in my affection for puns – but you and I know the truth.

I had the chance to spend about two years in the harness racing world many years ago. I was often overwhelmed with the degree of care and horse psychology that trainers and owners would share with me. For instance, on race day one owner allowed no one in the barn in the afternoon, set lights to dim and played classical music so all could rest up.

I was told by many that horses should never train alone, that at least one other should be on the track to help both learn to pass one another, get competitive and get left behind. The trick of this was to urge the horse to race past its partner, but equally to let the horse know that it can relax at times and let another pass. The thinking here was that a horse that always beats out its training mate would be so discouraged if passed in the race that it would give up. 

Races are won, I was told, when a horse could handle the jostling and passing and then when urged could reliably dig deep for the natural talent, energy, and speed it had, not worried about the others around them.

Isn’t that just like our days and weeks, there are always people and situations, lifting us up, sometimes knocking us down, trouble and triumph each in their measure. The trick is to know what we have for ability and energy, and run that race like we were on the track alone and rested up, every time, win or lose.

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I recently went to a great meeting a local church. In the bathroom I could not help but notice that both doors to the stalls had a square cut out of the bottom right corner. It just seemed odd as the doors were wooden with a trimmed edge and then this divot clearly cut out. The doors were painted and appeared in good repair, but they had this notch missing and perhaps I was a little distracted, but I could not help but wonder what would have happened to cause anyone to fire up a power tool and cut the corner of a wooden door in such a way.

Washing my hands, beginning to focus on something beyond my stall door musings, I looked across the room and realized that the doors swung in and the cut out prevented the doors from banging into the toilets. So, the toilets could have been replaced and were larger, or someone with access to a saw was annoyed by the collisions. The fix, it would seem, was a simple one, just carve a hunk out of a well-made trimmed wooden door in order to alleviate a troublesome situation. 

How often does this happen, that we hacksaw something of ourselves or our lives in order to make it fit better with something else? Maybe you used to travel a lot, but new demands of work or family have caused you to carve that out. Maybe you used to be completely confident about singing in public or doing magic tricks, and things have happened over time that cut a hole in that part of your repertoire. 

I think the thing about passing time is that no matter what we are changing, the circumstances we are in are changing and sometimes the old bumps up against the new. I feel like the church had some choices here, make the staff longer, change the direction of the doors or be more careful about the size of new toilets. I think that change is good and necessary and inevitable, I just also think that when tempted to rush to the skill saw to hack off yet another piece of yourself to fit a new situation, maybe pause. Is it you who must change or are you in fact trying to fit into the wrong stall? Or is the collision of new and old, or differing opinions and ideas exactly what is needed right now, and no holes are necessary until a new solution emerges. 

Chopping off bits to make things fit can sometimes work; however, awareness of the number of holes your making is critical to ensure that you are in fact still true to your core being and unique presence in this world.

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I have had one of those weeks during which I have talked to dozens of people as part of my work. I love holding just a little space to get to know more about a person. This week I talked to someone whose work links them with Buckingham Palace, to someone who is facing a health challenge, to an admin assistant who moved from being a dental hygienist, and a person recovering from an huge accident at work who knows that his smashed hard hat saved his life. 

Stories, stories, everyone has one, everyone can expect one, and life keeps offering up just enough change to make for a glorious web of adventures that interlace in a million ways with others. I have read that there are stores now that have a slow check out at which the cashier takes their time and has a good chat, that people who are lonely can choose that line and for a few moments feel heard and connected with someone else. 

I have been watching an old show that takes place in the late 90’s – not that long ago I would say, but it is striking the difference, very few people have cell phones, no one texts yet and computers are novel.  It is alarming the difference, people meet at the pub to catch up, the landlines in the characters home ring and get answered with no visible call display. This is not pre-historic living, it’s just a couple of decades ago. 

I have read a number of times that true listening means that you are prepared to have your mind changed in some way. True listening means that you are not crafting your answer back while the other person is speaking. There are conversations waiting to be had all around, which that change how we see something just a little. After this week, I will not see a hard hat exactly the same way again – let’s talk. 

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I try to spend time being grateful and “looking up” – not always easy when life serves up the normal amount of challenge and busy-ness and nearing impossible when disaster strikes. All my companions would say that I am not that good at talking about sports and weather, but love talking about the best part of the day, a moment of magic or something fantastical. Every night at supper for years and years we go around the supper table asking what the best part of the day was, and most nights it’s all pretty routine – this delicious supper is my son’s go to response with some nights getting an add-on about an additional item.

So, all the people in my circles eventually have to come to know that I am far more likely to ask about what sparkled up your day than about the hockey score. Imagine my surprise when one of my grumpier friends responded to one my plying questions about today’s magic with, “Just the ordinary magic.” The ordinary magic, the moments that come and go sometimes without us noticing, the otherwise mundane tasks can become joyous, the little sparkles all there each day just waiting to be noticed. The ordinary magic of people entering, of a fabulous cup of coffee, a great meeting, a moment of joy, a laugh or two, and perhaps even a great hockey score. The ordinary magic, the great taste of a well formulated sandwich, a compliment, a feeling of a job well done, a good text from a friend, a joke shared.

I have been told often enough that there are many in my acquaintance who would really rather talk about the weather, luckily for us all the weather can often offer up its own magic. Ordinary magic, everyday wonders and when we are on the lookout, and once in a while, more often when we look, extraordinary magic happens along.

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I have the privilege and challenge at times, of sharing my life with someone who suffered great loss when his first wife died after a battle with cancer. There is a great deal of wisdom, perspective and insight that my partner offers me about the day-to-day challenges and heartaches and hardships that knit together make up this thing we call life. My partner has this grand metre stick by which he measures what is truly a calamity, and he grounds me in that experience when I begin to horribilize or dwell in the realm of catastrophe.  

I had a setback this week when I learned that a close friend was just diagnosed with stage four cancer. He has just retired at the wonderful age of 58, I am sure planning for a long well-deserved, adventure-filled time. His hobby is running marathons, for fun I guess (I have never understood), and now he faces this diagnosis. 

I railed against the reality with full on temper tantrum moves and then my husband calmly reminded me that looking for life to be fair is just not a good use of my precious present. Things are not fair; life is not a series of checks and balances. All we have is right now.

To be honest, I was not really ready to hear my husband’s wisdom. I needed to talk to my friend and his wife, to have an episode of despair under a warm blanket and to partake in some sugary carbs. After all that, I could start to come around, this is how it is.  Good things happen and rotten things happen to all of us.  We change what we can, live with what we cannot and fight for what we want. 

What’s next? How do we collectively face this great unknown? Together, one day at a time, knowing nothing is guaranteed, taking nothing for granted and wringing every last bit of fantabulousnous out of each moment.

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