Gratitude and Thanks

Canadians celebrated Thanksgiving this past Monday and this year has been especially filled with gratitude. I am thankful that a serious medical error was caught in time, which could have resulted in my husband having a stroke or heart attack if it had gone undetected much longer. I am thankful to be have returned to our stomping grounds of Southern Ontario (Barrie) after 20 years away and looking forward to reconnecting with many friends and family I haven't seen in a long time. I'm thankful for the amazing friendships that made each San Francisco and Dallas memorable places to live these past two years. I am thankful to finally feel like I'm home.

I firmly believe that we choose our thoughts. We're 10 months into 2012 and so much has happened this year already. We weren't planning to move again, the third long distance move in 24 months, nor were we planning to cash out my retirement fund and downsize to a small apartment while we figure out our next steps. Strangely enough, it feels right to us. We have enough cash to pay rent for six months, which is more than most folks, and we can ride out this minor storm. We could choose to be miserable and whiny and shake our fists at our lives, but we're choosing to embrace the opportunities that come with starting over.

What I'm excited about, looking into the unknown: we are both pursuing our dreams. My husband, a software engineer in the games industry, has ate, slept and dreamed games since early childhood and now he can wake up and work on his own game. How lucky is he? So many people resign themselves to a life without passion because it's too hard. It is hard, but if you want it bad enough, you'll find a way. Three years ago, he was inspired to remake Ultima 4 in flash, all by himself, and thousands of people played his online version. It was the best time he'd ever had, and every day was filled with passion as the pieces of his vision came together. I'm looking forward to what he creates this go-round!

As for me, I'm thrilled to be back in Canada. Being retired at 33 wasn't all it was cracked up to be, not being able to work in the USA without a work visa. Today, I signed up to Pampered Chef,  to become a sales consultant for a great company that sells kitchen wares and tools. I've been a devotee for the last five years of PC products, and I see myself happy selling it. One of the visions I have for myself is bringing families together back in the kitchen and around the dining room table. We're so disconnected from each other and community can start at home. I've met so many people these past two years that don't feel comfortable in the kitchen and would like to learn how to be better in it. Being a PC consultant means I can teach some great, healthy, cheap simple recipes, meet new people and incorporate my stand up comedy in my cooking demonstrations. I know it is one of the puzzle pieces for me, of where I am going.

I'm excited to jump back into the coaching community in a big way. I'll be assisting at several upcoming CTI courses in Toronto over the winter, meeting enthusiastic new coaches. And I couldn't be happier that I feel like I'm getting my groove back - to want to be writing comedy and my funny little haikus for a future book.

Every night for the past 10 months, hubby and I write 5 things we are thankful for. Some days have been harder than others, but there are always little things that bring us joy. Like a good cup of tea. Or a phone call from a friend. These past three weeks that we've been home, we've been the happiest we've been in years. And I choose to live the space of abundance and gratitude, for the opportunity to start over, healthier, in love and following our passions.

~ with love,
Jean

The Home in your Heart

It would seem that the adage "home is where your heart is" has been around forever. It means different things to each of us: a welcome homecoming to the place where you grew up and have fond memories (and always feels like home, despite how many years you've been away), a feeling of contentment wherever you are in the world as long as you are with the ones you love, or maybe it's that feeling you get when you're sitting in your favourite chair enjoying your solitude.

But what about that moment when you've had that "aha!" moment and things just seem to all make sense - and your heart just feels... perfect... it sighs because it is home. I read an article this week by Claudia Escareño-Clark who wrote about her experience in choosing to pursue her postgraduate studies at Southwestern College in New Mexico. Claudia talks about her struggle and rationalization of tuition, time commitment and then there was... resonance. This past May, a good friend of mine and world renowned psychologist/art therapist/instructor/author in the field of PhotoTherapy, Judy Weiser, gave a talk on PhotoTherapy at the college, and something clicked for Claudia. I understood what I had been waiting for. She says, quite perfectly: I think it’s easy for most of us, at least for me, to assume that because something isn’t right at the time it must not be right at all.

I know that so well. I so desperately wanted the answers to "life" when I completed my undergrad. I applied to 2 grad school programs and was rejected and I took the LSATs because an aptitude test said I'd be a good lawyer. Couldn't someone tell me who I was supposed to be, where I would fit in? It would be four years before I found what felt like home: the first weekend at The Coaches Training Institute's Fundamentals class. I met people who were like me: people who lived to encourage, champion, delight, support, and to challenge people's self-limiting beliefs. I felt like I was truly, for the first time, myself. My heart felt like it was home. I probably wasn't terribly gentle with myself in finding my life's path - I kept trying to force pieces of the puzzle together that just weren't ready. But the moment we are truly honest about our life's passions and are ready to step into receiving it fully, the universe will unfold for us.

Claudia says, Sometimes if we are willing to wait it out just a bit longer all of the pieces come together like some cosmic puzzle. 

Ain't that the truth.

2012 Kia Soul Snafu

Having always lived in cities and successfully navigated our whole adult lives with public transit, hubby and I had little choice but to purchase a car when we moved to Dallas, TX last fall from San Francisco via Vancouver. We bought a 2012 Kia Soul+, having driven it prior as a rental and enjoyed it. Because we are Canadians, our financing options were limited to the remainder left on our work visa (22 months) to pay off the entirety of the $20,500. We were very clear with the dealership and the sales people that we would eventually be returning to Canada and does this meet the requirements for import. They said, sure, because the 2012 Soul was even safer than the previous year's model. But it turns out that isn't the truth... Currently no 2012 Kia of any model is acceptable for import into Canada.   2011s are, provided safety modifications are made. Our dealership also neglected to mention our warranty would not be valid in Canada. 

I've loved my Soul, and have put 11,000 miles on my baby. In preparation for a visit home, I have discovered that Transport Canada does not allow 2012 Kias of any kind manufactured in USA entry into Canada. In fact, if someone attempts to cross the border, the car will be impounded. I've now spoken with Kia's customer service people three separate times and no one seems to have any real answers. They say Transport Canada has to request the paperwork on a case by case basis (which I find unlikely, since every model pre-2012 is on the list for acceptable import). Transport Canada says Kia has to submit their car specifications in order to determine if it meets Canadian Safety Standards. 

So I'm getting the run around. I've made a request for a letter from Kia that I can submit to Transport Canada for the case-by-case appeal, but I would like to take it one step further and EECB their executive to ask why the 2012 and 2013 models are not on the acceptable list (Toyotas, Fords, Mazdas are), and also why did their sales people not inform us that our amazing 10 year warranty would not be valid in Canada or that it was not on the list of cars to import.

I would not have bought a Kia if I knew this would be the headache I'd have to endure. We made it clear to the dealer we were Canadian and planning to take the car back eventually... 

Please help, I'd like to get the email addresses of their Exec so I can "provide valuable feedback" and I promise not to use profanity. I'd like to be able to import my car, when the time comes, and have a valid warranty in Canada. What will it take to make this happen, Kia? Help me, and you'll have a loyal fan for life.

Let it just be

I've rewritten the opening sentence to this blog entry at least five times, and I can commit to myself that this time I will let it just be. A good lesson for life, sometimes, is to let it just be. As with all of our lives, we have complexities that we keep private until the appropriate time to share our successes and failures. In large part, that is the reason why I haven't written a blog entry in a while. 


Instead, I'll focus on what I can write about: the other day my husband gently asked me to put down the mindless game I was playing on Facebook and get back into writing my haikus. I'd set a goal for myself, back in April, to have 100 haikus before the Dallas Forth Worth Writers' conference I attended in late May. I had hoped to have these ready to pitch to an agent and be swooped up and published. Needless to say, I didn't have my 100 haikus for the conference, but I did have 25. That number stayed pretty stagnant until an agent I met at the conference asked how my haiku book was coming (she expressed interest in seeing it), and I got excited again! I've written around 50 haikus now, and I'd like to have another 50 before I send in my formal query letter to her. 


I don't know about you, but sometimes when we establish an idea in our heads as "important" to us but then we lose track of the project or goal, there's value in looking at why it is no longer as important. It was hard for me to be in the space of joy and creativity to write these funny little poems when I was feeling overwhelmed and unsure about life. There was too much chaos to write the zen of the haiku. I needed quiet, direction and some inner peace.


I've found a lot more inner contentment in the past two weeks, and it has freed me up to get passionate again. In fact, in a moment of synchronicity, as I sat in the Starbucks with my haiku prep notes splayed out and furiously writing, a coach friend called and we ended up talking about what our life's purpose is. I believe that my life's purpose, and the thing that makes me so happy is to bring people joy, and to see joy in others.


In my profession as a coach, I can magically see and hear the potential in people's souls and I am grateful I am an instrument to magnify the joy in their lives. As a stand up comedian, to make people laugh is truly a gift. Maybe someone has had a bad day or is going through a difficult time in their lives, but for a few minutes, they are accessing the joy within. Or maybe it is as simple as a slice of my homemade strawberry rhubarb pie that brings them joy, a memory of their childhood and grandmas long since passed.

In this moment, I am content and letting life be whatever it will be. And making sure that my life's purpose, to bring joy to everyone, is the path I am setting out for myself.

What is your life's purpose? How are you living it today?

trip down memory lane - seesaw shes

i bookmarked this older piece of my writing, written on a now defunct blog, written on July 30, 2004. funny how some things change and some things stay the same.


 
seesaw shes.

she is cold and unfeeling. her smile is forced and not much can break across her face. emotion is void here. her laughter is lost in echoes of nothingness. i cannot stand to be in the company of her and soon i will be bidding her adieu.

the other she is like a she puppy, nipping at your feet, constantly wanting to jump into your lap and be loved. she will do and say anything to ensure that she is loved but i see right through her. she plays favourites and i am not a chew toy to be gummed. i cannot stand to be in the company of her and soon i will be bidding her adieu.

the other other she is on her life journey, asking for directions all the time, even to take small steps to her cornerstore. she is afraid of getting lost, even though she has several maps in her hand. they all have the same roads marked on them, but oh which to choose? that is a decision for her and she does not do well with decisions. she needs a navigator but i am tired of driving. i cannot stand to be in the company of her and soon i will be bidding her adieu.

she who visits brings me laughter and love as we sit on our swing, sipping expresso in the dawn of morning light. she brings me safety and comfort in our exchange of dialogue, of love and love lost and love to come. she travels the world and brings it to me, in snips and snaps of her mind and eyes. her friendship is enduring, and when i am down she lifts me up. i help her as we see-saw our lives. mostly, she tells me what i need to hear. i can stand her company and she stands beside me. i will not be bidding her adieu.

another she is good for me but sometimes even she wears down my head. she prods me incessantly, as if i am one of those sheep, doe-eyed and smacked silly. i have a memory and it retains many things including simple directions to make mac and cheese. surely i can remember to do small things suggested by her. mostly, she tells me what i need to hear. i can stand her company and she stands beside me. i will not be bidding her adieu.

spiritual she lifts me when i am down. distanced only by the hum of techology, of thousands of kilometres of wire apart, we convene weekly meetings to discuss how close we are. she helps me reclaim my heart and head, and this will go on for years. sometimes i shake my head at her, but mostly i nod in agreement. mostly, she tells me what i need to hear. i can stand her company and she stands beside me. i will not be bidding her adieu.

i am fortunate to be in the company of many a good she. even the shes that i must bid adieu to have taught me much about myself. to laugh and be merry, to love sincerely and to be firm and confident in my life decisions. a balance of shes in my life. soon there will be a void of the shes that i bid adieu but that is part of the seesaw.

In defense of failure (Finding the Beauty in Failure)

Sometimes I feel like I'm failing at life. Yes, me, a professional life coach who is passionate about seeing other people reach their dreams and destinies. Fellow coaches would jump all over that statement of "failing at life" and tell me that is my saboteur or inner critic at work. They may be right. But as I come up on 35 in two days time, I can't help but look around at my friends and acquaintances and see if I'm meeting the benchmark.

There are:

• friends younger than me who own a home and have a great network of friends and family nearby
• friends who seem to have mastered the corporate ladder more successfully
• friends who are well regarded in their field
• friends who have real vacations at least once a year (my last real holiday was in 2006!)
• friends that seem to have mastered the balance of hobbies, work and relationships
• friends who have thousands of twitter followers 
• fellow coaches who have clients paying them gobs of money

We're a society of comparison and perfection. It would be so easy to look at someone's life at face value and make all sorts of assumptions that everything is peachy keen in someone else's life. That's just the surface story. Maybe the truth is you're a homeowner and overwhelmed with renovations that never seem to end or you were promoted to a higher position with added responsibilities you don't want but you don't want to turn down the pay increase. Maybe you have thousands of online admirers but are a total neurotic wreck in real life and you live in constant fear of being found out. Maybe you're hiding your credit card statements from your partner because you're racking up huge bills paying for escapist tendencies. What I'm trying to say is, the only person that can really measure your success is you, and comparing yourself to someone else is like comparing apples to doorknobs. 

The latin word,comparationem, ends up translating into "make equal with, liken, bring together for a contest." There are people who live their lives competing against one another. This happens among siblings, coworkers, friends. I'm not interested in competition and I never have been (unless you get me playing Settlers of Catan or any other awesome board game).

I've done some pretty extraordinary things for my 35 years. I've run a half marathon and never gave up on myself. I've faced cynical audiences as a stand up comedian and made them laugh. I'm navigating my identity as a child of deaf adults and what that means to me in the bigger picture of my life. I've invested in my ongoing education, to continually expand my world view and challenge myself. I've packed up on short notice and moved to a new country. Twice (because, let's be real, Texas is kind of like its own country). I left a job with great pay, benefits and great coworkers to go on an adventure and trust that the universe will sort it all out. I've stuck by my husband for sixteen years through thick and thin, for richer or poorer, and in sickness and health.

So yes, there are things I don't have and experiences I have yet to have, and maybe in someone else's eyes (and mine, occasionally) that makes me a failure. Sometimes not having all of that drives me, motivates me, to be better... but then I look at who I am. I look wholeheartedly at myself in the mirror and I know that I am defined by who I am. Where I have come from. Where I am going. If I can stay in that place, of fully, truly appreciating all that I am, standing in full integrity of myself, I know I cannot be anything else but truly successful.

I don't feel "better" having written this (I'm still a little bit sad), but I do know it is the truth. And when I can express my truth, the sadness will lift. And there will be many days of joy that follow. Days of appreciation and gratitude. Likely, the sad days will return here and there. But I, and you also, can choose to stand in the integrity of who we are. And no one can take that away from you.

My planned failures for this summer include: failing to make the New York Times best seller list; failing to make 200 people laugh; failing at making homemade pasta and ice cream; failing to perfect a new website for my coaching, writing and comedy; failing to have more paying clients. I'm gonna go full steam ahead and flail my arms failing. If there's anything my friends know about me, is when I get knocked down, I get up again. Never gonna keep me down.

P.S. Found this amazing TedTalk on Vulnerability and Shame, thanks to the anonymous comment left below. I feel like I found home today.  

Addicted to your story

I really enjoy watching Oprah's Lifeclass on the OWN network. I love that there is a forum for sharing and promoting the value of personal growth. Her guest/co-host was a woman named Iyanla Vanzant, a woman she has had on previous shows. In this Lifeclass Tour episode, a man named Steve shares his story of his 20+ year drug and alcohol dependency and difficult childhood. Iyanla notes that not once does Steve celebrate his intermittent sobriety, and he focuses on the despair and darkness of his past. She said to him, Who would you be without that story? She pointed out that his new addiction is his story, telling it, reinforcing the darkness, worthlessness, misery and pain. That place of pain is where he is comfortable in. When you live each day telling yourself a story that continues to feed your dark beast, how can you ever see the light?

If I were to be honest, I would write about what it was like to be the only person growing in my house that could hear. My mom, dad and sister are deaf. I was born an outsider, and despite being hard of hearing, that wasn't deaf enough for me to ever feel accepted by my father or sister. At the age of 34, I'm still an outsider who doesn't belong, and for many years I believed that, because why would my family lie to me? I avoided the deaf community from age 19-32, because I felt rejected by my family. It took me a long time to accept that two deaf people aren't all deaf people. There are still some very raw feelings around this which get rehashed every time there is a family conflict, but I am a work in progress. We are all works in progress. 

I've worked very hard to create a life that is abundant with joy and fun and compassion. But there is darkness, masquerading as sadness, lurking in my heart. It is hurtful when you are pushed away from the people who are supposed to love you. But I don't want this to be my story. I don't want to be that person who, when sitting down to meet strangers over lunch, spills out my miseries. I'd like to set that story on fire and let the ashes scatter in the wind. It doesn't really serve me, it doesn't help me move forward into greatness, happiness and true success. When I tell that story, people look at me and pity me. That isn't what I want. So I am committed to making a conscious effort to focus on a new story, one that revolves around me and how awesome I am, and how much I love being a coach and a comedian and how thankful and full of joy I am to have the people in my life that I do. 

Are you addicted to a story that weighs you down? What would happen if you told another story for a while, one that moves you forward in your journey? How can you tell your story that invigorates you? Lifts you up?

~

Jean