Say Uncle

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – My bachelor uncle has been a big part of my whole long life; he’s an entrepreneur, auctioneer, family historian and all-around interesting community figure.

This uncle regularly visits, and one of those visits a few weeks ago was on Robbie Burns Day. For the occasion, he declared, we must have Scotch.  The weird part of the story is that I had a good bottle of Scotch at the back of the cabinet, a forgotten Christmas gift from over a year ago. I had stashed it to the back because I don’t drink Scotch; dusting off was required.

And so we whiled away the evening sipping in front of the burning wood stove, one bottle of expensive Scotch and two glasses. We talked about family history, his childhood memories, memories of my dad in his youth. It was a delightful evening that I will cherish. Not to say that such a delightful evening could not have happened without Scotch, but the beverage added to the magic and the memory. 

What other things do we have tucked away, ideas, plans, goals, trips, and other quiet longings that are pushed to the back in the busy day to day where we just stay focused on the known, and comfortable experiences?  Did someone offer something new and different, an idea or dream, and we stuffed it to the back, now forgotten?

There is absolutely nothing wrong with a familiar and cheerful, comfortable day’s activity. But let’s make sure that when we can we are double checking where we put that expensive bottle of Scotch, who we could maybe share it with, and what magic memories we could make in the moments that weave together to form the magical lives o’ mice and men.

Photo by Craig Adderley on Pexels.com

The Seeds of Wisdom

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – I recently attended a meeting with Chris from the Haliburton library, and he talked about a seed library that is coming soon to the area. What a cool idea, but the part of his presentation that resonated with me was that in his years of experience with the seed library he has learned a crucial piece of seed care wisdom. That lesson is, do not leave the seeds in the sun as they tend to grow. Without soil, water, compost or the odd plant karaoke, these little dry seeds tend to sprout in the sunshine. 

Imagine what we are capable of with a little sunshine! Give us a little encouragement, a little positivity, appreciation and warmth, and we tend to grow too. The seed library is all about encouraging people to learn and try growing their own food with ready access to the seeds. 

Fair warning to all of us really, if we are engaged in something joyful or engaging in something that we love so much the time flies by… we may sprout, we may grow, we may not be the same person in the same place we were when we started.

And what if we set out to shine a little sunshine on others, where would it end?  Sprouts all over the place, people setting new goals, finding confidence, walking a little taller and reaching just a little further.

Walk on the sunny side of the street whenever possible, both physically and if the conversation you find yourself in seems to be headed to the dark side. Look for the sun.  When left in the sun, we tend to grow. Seek out the sunshine wherever you can find it, your potential growth has no limit.

Photo by Akil Mazumder on Pexels.com

Hope Floats

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – I walked into my office this week and found a bottle of wine. More delightful, there was no note attached, so while I want to be able to thank the person, I love the mystery and wonder of not knowing who decided to brighten my day.

I looked more closely and the label on the bottle of wine says, “Hopetown.” There is a story about Harrow, Ontario, which used to be called Hopetown. In Hopetown the glass was always half full.

Close to Lake Eerie, this settlement surveyed in 1824 was named Hopetown, in honour of new beginnings, an enduring pursuit for happiness and a bright future, super optimistic musings for settlers battling the harshness of early Canada.

In Hopetown a house was built on the side of a hill. From the roof workers could hear the cannons of the battle of Lake Eerie and, unruffled, they continued to build. That home still stands today.

I took all of this as a sign – that there is hope, that we are almost through these dark times and that just like the workers on the roof, there may be cannons, but we are carrying on. 

I looked up Hopetown wine in researching this blog and found the LCBO site, where predictably the first review I read said, “The most terrible red wine I have ever tasted.” The second said, “This is everything that I ever imagined in a good red wine. ”

Hope tastes different to each of us at different times.  When we are scared and overwhelmed and someone tries to show us that there is still a reason to build our house despite the rumble of cannon fire, sometimes we are just not into that kind of optimism. Other times it is the just what we need to carry on to eventually find all that we ever imagined.  Thank you to whomever gave me the gift of wine – and hope!

Photo by Polina Tankilevitch on Pexels.com

A Blanket Statement

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – I go camping in the autumn, and this past fall I bought an electric throw blanket to add a bit of extra warmth to my bunk on what can be cold October nights.  In fact, Thanksgiving 2021 was over 20 degrees so I did not end up needing my new acquisition; I instead placed it in the TV room thinking that on winter nights I might curl up under it. And there the blanket sat for months. 

Then a few days ago I was cold and so decided to fire it up. Just like when someone innocently gives you Godiva chocolate and the chocolate from the department store now tastes like wax, a heated throw ups the comfort game. I find myself now in a new category of television watching comfort. It’s not hot, it’s just the right amount of subtle warmth that I tuck it under my chin and do not want to move. 

I think this happens all the time – a new relationship in which you are so well treated you cannot imagine tolerating less; an illness that you had to face that makes it so you never take another minute for granted; the loss of a beloved that reminds you about what it is to truly be human. These are heated throw moments – moments in which you realize, hey, I am worth just a little bit more, I am capable of more, I expect more, I can do more.  What would happen if we all started to seek them out, fire them up and upped our game? Probably too much to lay on my little green striped throw, but makes me think, once we truly know our worth and accept nothing less, how far we can go with no looking back.

Photo by Jenna Hamra on Pexels.com

Rethinking Silos, part 2

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – More thoughts on my silo expert colleagues at that recent meeting. (To read the first blog post on this topic see Rethinking Silos.) 

Brent, from Big Brothers Big Sisters Peterborough, added to our conversation about how the analogy of silos as negative is even more flawed. Brent told us that in the farming community only the farmers who put the crop in the silo know exactly what is in there. Only they know the moisture content of the crop or whether it was at its peak. The farmers knows what the crop was intended for, what the nutrient mix in it is and what should be added to make it perfect.

It is only in the silo, separate from all the other things, that the delicate mix can be fully understood. All crops needed for all livestock in one massive bunker would be a feed disaster. There is room for specialty and a need for separateness to know where to go for the level of expertise required.

So why the bad reputation we all wonder? That happens when the silos never get opened and great feed wasted. Silos of departments doing exactly what they know how to do need to have focus and be specialized. But, in opening and being part of a bigger agency, they can make big things happen where specialties overlap. 

Equally separate agencies can focus on their own excellence and strengths, create a structure that is the perfect balance for their mission. Partnering for causes where missions overlap or community is shared is the place where the great level of expertise blend and then all crop nutrient content rises.

Okay, so sometimes the analogy of, and my passion for, agriculture goes a little too far… but you understand… be expert, be open to help and lend your strengths.

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

Rethinking Silos

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – I had an amazing conversation spontaneously erupt at a recent partner meeting; suddenly very eloquent analogies were being honed in real time about silos.

Kim, from YWCA, began by expressing that silos often have a negative connotation in our fields of work, as a paradigm that lacks collaboration and problem-solving together.  We constantly hear that these silos must be broken down for good things to happen, but that is in fact not how silos work; magic happens in the spaces of collaboration between silos. 

On the farm a silo needs to stay packed and airtight, keeping its nutrient rich feed contained so that chemistry can take over and age the feed to its peak value.  The silo concept, when we throw it around in the workplace jargon, is one of concentrated expertise; just like the carefully filled mixes on farms all over this country, it means that an area is working in isolation – and that is seen as negative. 

Everyone has an expertise and a role, an area in which they know exactly what is going on and how it fits into the larger scheme of things. Each department, each team, each role has a delicate balance of forming that is best done within the system of itself. 

This idea of breaking down silos does not work. A well-formed team, or department needs to be built up, supported to keep its good work going, encouraged to find its expertise and stride.  Only when the siloed team is robust can it then be relied on to contribute to a greater project or the greater whole in the agency or area. The magic is not in the leveling of the silo itself, rather in the coming together of the expertise and focus of each silo to a focal point where the areas of expertise and experience overlap and are equally needed to address the project or concern in front of them. The synergy is not in blasting apart well-made structures and chemistry and expertise, but in leaning on the solid walls of that level of knowledge in order to find a way forward.  

Silos are great prominent structures that dot our landscape, but eventually season after season the well structured silage inside nourishes the herd and the next crop is planned, grown and harvested. No silo just sits full of super great knowledge that goes nowhere. The silo is a magic place where good things are stored, equally in our workplace a resilient and strong team is an enchanting place for innovation and ideas. And when teams need to come together, there is good food for thought all around.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Betty’s Hope

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – Right now in grocery stores there are racks of magazines with articles about Betty White turning 100.  These interviews and photos took place months ago and are now published in glossy full colour, only she did not make it. 

There is a lot to think about here. The articles were made in advance with the great hope and belief that Betty White would live to see 100. The stories were a celebration of her long life, well lived. And now these articles, though still interesting and inspiring, are also emotionally charged because Betty died in her sleep a few short days before the hallmark birthday. 

What strikes me here is that we cannot simply stop writing articles or making plans or believing that wonderful things are going to happen just because sometimes a colossal crap load of change and crisis could sweep in unannounced. No one could write an article that started with a disclaimer that in the situation that Betty does not make it please adjust all tense about her to past.  We need hope; we need to believe that the next birthday will come, that dancing will return, that love will be found again, that the worldwide pandemic will eventually fade to back page news. 

Yes, the last two years have proven that many dreams have died quietly in sleep, as lock-downs, restrictions and tragedy due to this illness have surrounded us. However, a lot of great stuff happened too, and joys and triumphs still occurred… so, keep on counting on it.

Photo: AP Photo/Matt Sayles

Beacon in the Storm

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – I have read of this analogy a few times over the past year, the notion that lighthouses do not move around. Very simple I know but the idea here is that sometimes we want to move, play defense, intervene, react, save, and otherwise scramble in a million different directions in order to warn those we care about that something is needed. 

A lighthouse stays in one place and shines. It is in the knowledge that this lighthouse is there, that the light is there so that ship crews have known, for hundreds of years, that there is a cliff or rock or some other hazard nearby to avoid.

Equally, if a storm was raging or the journey home was long seeing, the lighthouse indicated that land was there, and home was close. Stay put, stay strong, stay rooted in who you know you are when you are your best self, and shine.

We can’t actually solve the problems of other people or prevent them from crashing, but we can offer guidance in how we make decisions or commit to improving, in how we shine.  And in your own journey who and what have offered you this same warning and comfort?  Who was shining and steadfastly there when you had to make a decision?  What phrase or truth shone bright when you were facing a dark time? 

Lighthouses do not move around; they stay rooted in rock. There is a lot of rocky danger in the world right now and one can feel capable of offering very little that will make a difference. You are, however, so valuable and shiny in who you are and being you! Shine it out; you could be the reason someone sees less of their own stormy seas.

Once the lighthouse is seen the rest of the sea is ignored.

Terri Guillemets

Photo by Skyler Ewing on Pexels.com

Happy New Year!

Photo by Polina Tankilevitch on Pexels.com

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – It is New Year’s Eve and no matter how you are spending it I am sure that it has occurred to you that tomorrow we welcome a brand-new year. I do realize that when we wake up in the morning or the hands of the clock move past midnight tonight there won’t be any sonic boom or cosmic event that sweeps away any angst left from 2021 and creates a fresh everything for 2022. However, we can do this for ourselves. Make a little peace with the mistakes we leave in 2021, the fears, the hurts, the misgivings, the broken bits, and the anger. Celebrate what we gathered together in new relationships, strengthened bonds, learning, experience, achievement, and blessings. And then turn the page to a crisp, bright, blank one that is just waiting for a new adventure, a new year. 

What will you record? What is something, amid the deep winter of COVID and cold, at which you can get a fresh start? I am not really talking about the perennial gym membership, the twenty pounds or the complete makeover of all things healthy, although those are great. I think its all the little things that add up to more impact than a few days at the gym. Start a gratitude journal, call an old friend you have not spoken to in a long time, set an intention for the year that you can work on little by little. 

Anne of Green Gables welcomed each new day as a fresh start with no mistakes in it and then went on to make mistakes. I urge you to think about 2022 as a fresh new year with no mistakes in it.  Let’s go make some memories, some improvements and some mistakes.  Welcome 2022.

So This is Christmas

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – When I was a kid, I went to my grandparents on Christmas day like so many folks do. Their farmhouse was overflowing with people and steaming supper and laughter. 

My grandparents lived on the top of the hill overlooking the massive urban center of Janetville. One of the things that I remember most about being there was going outside onto the cold porch by myself and looking across the lights of the neighbourhood. 

Finally, a little quiet and cool and alone time. Time to just breathe and loosen my pants a little if I am honest. I would only go out on the porch for a few moments, but it was a enough time to pause pause, a few moments to say to myself in the chaos, this is Christmas, this is family, this is a memory in the making right now, today.

Just like a lot of things I can’t stand out on that porch anymore; my grandparents have passed on, their farmhouse not only was sold but has since burned down, and I don’t see my cousins at Christmas anymore because families grow.

I still try to grab a porch moment whenever I can in the busy gatherings of my Christmas… a moment of cool stillness to just say, phew made it, Christmas is here, there is joy, there are lights, there is food. There is nothing else I can forget or write on a to-do list, the days are here now, and this is Christmas, this is awesome. 

I think the challenge of Christmas is that we want the magic of a Hallmark movie and most often end up in some version of the Griswold’s but it is all good, all Christmas, all a memory.  However, you celebrate the holidays, enjoy, grab a moment of peace and a moment to just breathe in the magic of the season. We shall not pass this day again.