If I was feeling especially fine and in need of a splurge, I might spring for a moleskin one.  Or a tactile one with handmade paper and leather wrap cover.   During a sale at Chapters I snagged a hot pink Kate Spade one.  I’ve got a couple boxed sets with lovely watercolour garden/floral images.  Some had mod ‘70s style cover art.  Some have elastic closures or ribbon bookmarks.

A quick look around my office reminds me of a lovely coil book called Woman’s Journey that I used during a Manitoba retreat.  It’s got quotes, pouches and tabs like Spirituality, Reaching Goals, Family, Joy Catchers.  In another, I found a goals list I wrote in 2005.  No, I still don’t have a Mercedes or gallery representation but I have achieved others.

There are also interest-specific journals and naturally I’ve got some of those too: book list, wine, travel, project, restaurants.  And don’t get me started on the ones with writing prompts!  For Christmas, Roy ands I each got The Story of My Life journals from Hilary, hint, hint.

Most of us have received promotional ones with embossed company name and matching pen as gifts or as convention swag.  I’ve begun using the 2-pack journals available at Costco as a repository and to house my endless to-do-list for my festival work.

And let’s not forget the branded companion journals to bestsellers.  Designed as a tool to supplement and maximize the efficacy of the original book, they are also shrewd marketing for the author.  Think Julia Cameron’s Morning Pages Journal, Sarah Ban Breathnach’s Illustrated Discovery Journal, Gratitude Journal, and Simple Abundance Companion, or Rhonda Bryne’s The Secret Gratitude Book.

I’m ashamed to admit how many of these journals are still empty.  For the longest time, I doubted whether what I intended to write was journal-worthy.  Jim Rohn talked about how early on his life he bought a blank book for $22 in the hope that he would find content sufficiently valuable to justify the purchase.

But I am getting better.  I’ve been faithfully completing Neil Pasricha’s Two Minute Mornings journal and Breathnach’s The Simple Abundance Journal of Gratitude for weeks now.  I’ve been less faithful with my new Write One Thing and Draw One Thing journals but each has been ‘violated’ by me.

In a conversation with a former Voice editor, I learned she was a faithful journal writer and had years worth of chronological, organized identical journals.  Wow.  On one level I envy that discipline and wisdom.  On another I know that is not me.  Unfortunately, for me that means that finding anything specific is like an archeological dig.  So, I’ll continue in my own flawed way to record my life and thoughts, wring insight and wisdom from what I read and see and do, and aim to improve my practice and the ability to retrieve specific content when needed.  In my opinion, journaling is one of the shortest (and cheapest) paths to health and wellbeing, from where I sit.

[Many people have noted the lack of Hazel Anaka’s articles in The Voice Magazine recently, but I assure you that’s not any choice of mine.  My understanding is she’s moved on from The Voice to writing for her local newspaper, and we wish her all the best in doing so.  But it was certainly nice to see one of her last pieces for The Voice, published in late January, being a student pick for the Best of edition.]

If I was feeling especially fine and in need of a splurge, I might spring for a moleskin one.  Or a tactile one with handmade paper and leather wrap cover.   During a sale at Chapters I snagged a hot pink Kate Spade one.  I’ve got a couple boxed sets with lovely watercolour garden/floral images.  Some had mod ‘70s style cover art.  Some have elastic closures or ribbon bookmarks.

A quick look around my office reminds me of a lovely coil book called Woman’s Journey that I used during a Manitoba retreat.  It’s got quotes, pouches and tabs like Spirituality, Reaching Goals, Family, Joy Catchers.  In another, I found a goals list I wrote in 2005.  No, I still don’t have a Mercedes or gallery representation but I have achieved others.

There are also interest-specific journals and naturally I’ve got some of those too: book list, wine, travel, project, restaurants.  And don’t get me started on the ones with writing prompts!  For Christmas, Roy ands I each got The Story of My Life journals from Hilary, hint, hint.

Most of us have received promotional ones with embossed company name and matching pen as gifts or as convention swag.  I’ve begun using the 2-pack journals available at Costco as a repository and to house my endless to-do-list for my festival work.

And let’s not forget the branded companion journals to bestsellers.  Designed as a tool to supplement and maximize the efficacy of the original book, they are also shrewd marketing for the author.  Think Julia Cameron’s Morning Pages Journal, Sarah Ban Breathnach’s Illustrated Discovery Journal, Gratitude Journal, and Simple Abundance Companion, or Rhonda Bryne’s The Secret Gratitude Book.

I’m ashamed to admit how many of these journals are still empty.  For the longest time, I doubted whether what I intended to write was journal-worthy.  Jim Rohn talked about how early on his life he bought a blank book for $22 in the hope that he would find content sufficiently valuable to justify the purchase.

But I am getting better.  I’ve been faithfully completing Neil Pasricha’s Two Minute Mornings journal and Breathnach’s The Simple Abundance Journal of Gratitude for weeks now.  I’ve been less faithful with my new Write One Thing and Draw One Thing journals but each has been ‘violated’ by me.

In a conversation with a former Voice editor, I learned she was a faithful journal writer and had years worth of chronological, organized identical journals.  Wow.  On one level I envy that discipline and wisdom.  On another I know that is not me.  Unfortunately, for me that means that finding anything specific is like an archeological dig.  So, I’ll continue in my own flawed way to record my life and thoughts, wring insight and wisdom from what I read and see and do, and aim to improve my practice and the ability to retrieve specific content when needed.  In my opinion, journaling is one of the shortest (and cheapest) paths to health and wellbeing, from where I sit.

These two books are hefty.  They’re over-sized, yet lighter than you’d think looking at their dimensions.  I dove into Tribe first and loved it, even though much of it had no clear application to my life.  I’m not an elite athlete, tech genius, or savvy start-up investor.  I’m not the co-founder of Pinterest, brand manager of Uber, MTV music producer, professor, thought leader, author, producer, CEO of NY Public Radio, coach, entrepreneur, or countless other categories of experts.  Yet, I admired the depth and breadth of pros he interviewed.  Much of the content has been captured on his blog and through his podcasts, neither of which I’ve explored yet.

Even eager readers may be intimidated by the size of the books.  Non-readers might run in the other direction.  What makes these books infinitely readable are the short chapters.  Two or three pages per interviewee consisting of short bio, a pull quote, and the answers to a few probing questions.  Bite-sized nuggets of gold.

(Paraphrased) questions like: 1) What is the book (or books) you’ve given most as a gift, and why? Or what one to three books have greatly influenced your life?  2) What message would you put on a giant billboard and why?  3) What’s an unusual habit or absurd thing you love? 4) What do you do when you feel overwhelmed or unfocused? 5) What failure set you up for later success? 6) What bad recommendations do you hear in your profession or area of expertise? 7) What advice would you give a smart, driven college student about to enter the real world?

I’m willing to bet that our answers to those questions may explain in part, why they achieved mega-success and we haven’t.

So what’s to be gained by investing time and money in these or any other equally rich resources?  Quite simply, there are commonalities to these success stories.  Many of the same most gifted/most influential books appear over and over again.  Many of them are in my library, some read, some not.  Virtually all of the people say they meditate daily, often for as little as ten minutes.  There are lessons for the taking implicit in the failure stories, the billboard messages, the bad advice bit.  The question is, will we pick them up?

Tools of Titans has many non-profile chapters that explore topics in greater depth.  Trust me there are many, many ideas in the both books that will never apply to my life but the ones I’ve already begun using have improved the quality of my life.  It may be as simple as creating The Jar of Awesome (a jar full of slips of paper capturing something wonderful that happened) or the ten minutes of silent contemplation I do when I first wake up.  Bottom line, no one needs to re-invent the wheel when books like this exist, from where I sit.

And while I haven’t (yet) chosen a word for 2018, I did hear a new spin while watching a recent episode of Marilyn.   Her guest was family therapist, Joe Rich who seems to have a quirky balance of empathy, humour, self-deprecation, and a keen understanding of how people really are.   He was there to discuss How to Conquer Your Goals.

We all know that making resolutions is usually a recipe for failure.   According to Rich, eighty percent will be a distant memory in a matter of weeks.   He describes resolutions as black and white, hardwired, and offering no flexibility because of the strict focus on outcome.   Either you quit smoking or you didn’t.   Either you lost forty pounds or you didn’t.   Either you went to the gym five days a week or you didn’t.   Insert your own vice here.

Better, according to Rich, is setting goals because they are more process focused.   To increase the chances for success they need to be simple, measurable, and realistic.   I will save $500 in six months.   I will use my debit card only three times a day.   If you can understand why the goal is important to you, you’ll have a better chance of sticking with it when the initial enthusiasm and focus wanes.   Writing it down also helps reinforce it.   The best approach is believing the addictions self-help mantra of one day at a time because that is all we have, today.   If we fall short today, we have a fresh new chance to succeed tomorrow.   Even with two steps forward and one step back, we’re still making progress.   Rich also urges us to remember past goals we’ve achieved and replicate the conditions of that success.

But, apparently the latest, greatest approach is to ‘find your word.’  To sit down and figure out what we want with our head and heart, how we want to feel in 2018.   He used the example of a parent wanting to use technology less.   Digging deeper shows the intention, which is to be present with your children.   Choosing the word ‘present’ is insightful and will affect behaviour and ultimately be more effective than saying I won’t use my cell phone.

I see those head, heart, feelings questions as a simple tool to choosing that one perfect word.   It seems quicker, easier, more definitive than the process Macomber uses.   I love being able to cherry pick the best of all strategies and collective wisdom for my own use.   Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some navel gazing to do, from where I sit.

 Like one of life’s sweetest surprises, I stumbled on this book entirely by accident.  During a visit to the Canmore library I checked out the book sale rack.  I was drawn to the book’s somewhat plain title and different cover design.  On the copy I ended up buying, we see a very low horizon, wispy clouds, and the back view of an older man.  Not until now did I notice the cat rubbing up against his legs.  The back-cover copy uses words like ‘grumpiest man’ and ‘curmudgeon’ and ‘old-fashioned clarity of belief’ and ‘idiots.’  What’s not to love, I thought.

And while I don’t admit to being curmudgeonly I saw and heard myself—over and over and over again—within the pages.  I believe most men and women of a certain age exhibit these traits to a greater or lesser degree.  Some of us may even be married to one.  For the record, a curmudgeon is defined as “a bad-tempered, difficult, cantankerous person.”

Who among us hasn’t ranted about the idiots around us, the unflinching rigidity of bureaucrats (white shirts), the virtues of our chosen make of car, the bone-deep certainty of our beliefs?  We might be dead wrong.  We might be espousing opinions whose origins we no longer remember or understand.   We might be making asses of ourselves.  Yet it never occurs to us that we may just be plain wrong.

I can say unequivocally that this is the best book I’ve read all year and I’m at ninety-five titles so far.  Considering it was translated from Backman’s native Swedish, it is impeccable in its language and structure.  The cast of human characters is richly drawn, and even the cat grows on me as Backman imbues it with human emotion and thought.  Each chapter could easily stand alone as a short story but together they create a masterpiece greater than the sum of its parts.

This book made me laugh out loud and nod in recognition.  Yet as the inevitable end drew near I cried like a funeral mourner.  I didn’t want this book or its people to end.  I’ve since learned that an award winning foreign film was made based on the book.  In September it was announced that Tom Hanks would star as Ove in an American remake of the movie.  As good as Hanks is, I doubt that any movie will do the book justice.

Now of course, I want to read everything else Backman’s written.  With titles like My Grandmother Sends Her Regards and Apologies and Britt-Marie Was Here and similar cover art I expect the same technical skill, meaningful subject matter, simple style, humour, and cry your eyes out emotion.  It doesn’t always materialize with follow-up titles but here’s hoping.

In the meantime, I’ve got some opinions and beliefs to unpack and examine, from where I sit.

[When you’re a student, you’ve got limited time for pleasure reading, which is why I like the occasional book review to make sure that time isn’t wasted on a book that isn’t that good. While this one was only published back on November 10, it’s still emblematic of some of the best book reviews in The Voice Magazine -Ed.]

Ruby is a Chinese woman who’s been in Canada for decades but returns at least twice a year to see her family.  She’s a registered massage therapist and acupuncturist who also does cupping.  Because she moved her practice to her home it’s easier to see how she lives.  Her house is squeaky clean and filled with crystals.  She sips on green shakes during lulls in the treatment and drinks water from a Santevia dispenser.  The relaxation music, crystals beneath the massage table, and aromatherapy diffuser in the treatment room may seem like hokey touches but are in fact therapeutic.

Because I’m a curious soul, I’m always asking questions and adding to my knowledge base.  I’ve got umpteen feng shui books and wondered if she knew of a source for Chinese coins, which are a potent wealth generator when they are activated with red thread and hung in the right place.  (I’ve had a set of three for years but who can’t use a bit more wealth?)  I assumed she’d send me to some obscure shop in Chinatown.  Not so.  Instead she mentioned Ascendant Books.  Her warning that it’s a dangerous place to go ensured I’d be there on my next visit to the city.

What’s not to love?  Five thousand square feet full of metaphysical stuff.  Books, crystals, jewelry, essential oils, singing bowls, CDs, yoga pillows, scarves, candles, incense, salt lamps, bookmarks, Chinese coins, inspirational banners and wall plaques, tarot and oracle cards, and more.  Yes, I left with three new coins and a gift certificate that Roy, ahem, will be giving me for Christmas.  My next trip back will be less exploratory and more acquisitory.

So whether your ‘dangerous’ place is Cabela’s, Indigo, Princess Auto, Simons, Michael Kors, Giant Tiger, Winners, Home Depot, or you name it, proceed with caution.  Most of us want for very little.  Choosing a select few things that really speak to or uplift us is preferable to acquiring stuff for the sake of stuff.  And believe me, I ain’t no damn minimalist.  Do I have too much?  Yes.  But as long as each of these things serves me, brings me knowledge or insight, pleases me, I will continue to love buying/receiving well-curated gifts for Christmas, birthdays, Mother’s Days and whatever other Days you have.

So, my lovelies, as a year like no other draws to a close take stock and take care as you celebrate the holiday season with loved ones, and prepare for 2018.  With the world as we know it under threat from unhinged leaders, sociological tsunamis (Black Lives Matter, sexual predation, racism reignited to name some), we will need courage, common sense, and a commitment to each other to get us through.  Heartfelt wishes for a better 2018, from where I sit.

Sometimes the thoughts are anticipatory in nature.  How will I handle XYZ?  Will the new job work out? Is this guy right for me?  How will I get through tomorrow’s mind-numbing, go-nowhere meeting with the office nincompoops?  Other times they are a replaying of the coulda, woulda, shoulda’s of the day.  Or one’s entire life.  Why did I marry her?  I should have told the boss to shove it.  Why didn’t I explain my bright idea better so they all got it?  Why didn’t I study medicine in 1980, I’d be rich and retired by now?

The problem with both these approaches is that they are embedded in either the past or the future.  And we (should) know we have no control over either realm.  Yet, it’s a trap we’ve all stumbled into.

As counter-intuitive as it seems, good and exciting news is equally disturbing to our sleep.  Which bride hasn’t lain awake planning every tiny nuptial detail?  Which new lottery millionaire hasn’t pondered the world of options newly open to them?  Which set of parents or grandparents hasn’t imagined the blessed new arrival?  Which new hire hasn’t played the climbing the corporate ladder dream sequence?

Right now I’m losing sleep over two things.  They are each a combination of good news with a touch of risk/challenge.  About a month ago I was approached to give an hour-long presentation at a tourism conference in February.  It’s a wonderful opportunity to tell our story and promote the festival I coordinate.  I’ve got insights to share and advice to offer.  Inherent in this great opportunity is also the chance to freeze, screw up, make a fool of myself.  See the dilemma?  So when I should be sleeping I’m rehearsing my opening or pondering different approaches to the subject matter.

The other big thing is the very real possibility we will undertake a major addition to our small bungalow.  And while we’ve met with a draftsperson, general contractor and a lender for the nuts and bolts issues, I keep thinking about my office layout, colour swatches, furniture placement, the dream of a walk-in closet and an ensuite.  I just need to find a way to confine my two big things to my waking hours when I can actually create a PowerPoint or compare colour swatches, rehearse my delivery, or do a scale drawing.  Here’s to sweet precious sleep, from where I sit.

A bit of backstory.  From Where I Sit first appeared in a local weekly newspaper in April 2002.  A few months later when it became clear I was the only one holding up the handshake agreement, I withdrew.  It also meant the column needed a new home.

I approached the editor of another area paper and a new relationship was born in January 2003.  About the same time, an Andrew guy suggested I should submit my writing to the Athabasca University student publication, The Voice.  Both of us were enrolled in university courses at the time.  Four editors later, I continue to write for this weekly.  In January 2014 the column began appearing in another local weekly.

Through it all, my MO has been the same.  Write what I want and let it go.  Other than one piece of hate (snail) mail in the early days, the to-my-face response has been pleasant, affirming, humbling.  And surprising.  Because I’ve already let it go, I’m always taken aback when people reference the content and say how much they enjoy it.

Incidentally, advice to writers is mixed.  Some experts say write for yourself.  And maybe that’s why you often see recurring themes/issues/neuroses running through a lifetime of work.  Other experts say write for your ‘ideal reader.’ That’s sounds a bit calculated, but makes sense when marketing a manuscript to a particular demographic or genre publisher.

Several months ago I got a heart-warming voice mail from Dennis Maschmeyer.  During a longer, follow-up call I learned he loves my work and was especially touched by a particular column.  He also praised my parenting.  He shared that he’s a widower and has chosen ‘Live’ as his one perfect word.  He told me about a recent Alberta Health Services Digital Storytelling project he was involved in.  He took copies of that column to this tiny group of people and shared it with them.

In the spine-tingling, serendipitous way of the world, Karen Klak was also in that AHS patient advisory group.  She met Hilary during the heartbreaking journey of her daughter’s Haley health struggles and death.  Hilary was working at the Stollery at the time and the family was grateful for her efforts to create some wonderful family memories for Haley.  Karen and Hilary stay in occasional touch eight years later.

So, I wrote about something important to me that touched Dennis who then shared it with a few strangers, one of whom recognized my surname and made the connection to my daughter.  A few group emails between Karen, Hilary, and I were full of gratitude for the small, small world we live in and how our lives have intersected.

The reality is that what we say, what we do, who we are, is always being noticed by someone.  But are those words and actions making someone’s life better or worse? That’s the real question, from where I sit.

Oh, sure we get ticked off by the high ticket prices, the appalling food, the intrusiveness of the security check-in, the dinky little seats with no leg room, the long waits, the sometimes snarky employees, the unbending policies, the creative reasons for additional charges that feel like extortion.  But, hey other than that, it’s all good.

Until we find another way to move long distances quickly, we’re stuck with flying.  What really drives me is the whole packing fiasco.  It’s hard enough to pack for a car trip.  Add in the constraints of luggage size and weight, cash penalties for overweight suitcases, and all the security-based rules.  Cue all the hidden camera footage of baggage handlers punting our valuables around.

So aside from all the rules we need to follow and all the advice we’ve gotten about smart packing, one of the hardest things is deciding what to pack.  I dragged a medium-sized hard body suitcase up a couple of weeks before an upcoming trip thinking time and thought would help me make the right choices.

Here’s the deal.  In late September I needed to pack for a Ukrainian wedding in Gatineau.  That means either an embroidered blouse and strings of red beads or a simple black lace dress with shawl, jewelry, and heels.  We also had plans to tour the House of Commons in Ottawa courtesy of MP Shannon Stubbs’ office.  That probably requires business casual.  In addition, we’re indulging in a thermal cycle spa treatment in Ottawa that features an outdoor regime of ‘hot-cold-relax.’  So make room in the suitcase for a bathing suit, cover up, robe, flip-flops, toque, and reading material.

A check of the seven-day forecast shows a heat wave is giving way to more seasonal temperatures.  Does that mean a couple nice sweaters or a lightweight coat?  Do I wear runners or something a bit nicer for the miles tourists typically make?  What about jewelry?  Are the outfit pieces interchangeable?  Would a scarf or two be nice?

Despite Googling it, I still don’t know the current rules about electronics.  Are cell phones and e-readers allowed in the cabin on domestic flights? In checked luggage or carry-ons?  I need to make room in my carry-on for my CPAP machine.  It’s far too sensitive for the aforementioned treatment by baggage handlers.

Conventional wisdom says wear the bulkiest clothing, roll the rest of the items, stick with a basic colour palette, choose versatile pieces, accessorize for variety.  And for the love of God, don’t over pack.  Easier said than done.  I’ve got my miniature toiletry items in a plastic bag, the bigger ones in the checked bag, and my fingers crossed that I haven’t missed anything or screwed up.  Other than that, all is good from where I sit.

 Like one of life’s sweetest surprises, I stumbled on this book entirely by accident.  During a visit to the Canmore library I checked out the book sale rack.  I was drawn to the book’s somewhat plain title and different cover design.  On the copy I ended up buying, we see a very low horizon, wispy clouds, and the back view of an older man.  Not until now did I notice the cat rubbing up against his legs.  The back-cover copy uses words like ‘grumpiest man’ and ‘curmudgeon’ and ‘old-fashioned clarity of belief’ and ‘idiots.’  What’s not to love, I thought.

And while I don’t admit to being curmudgeonly I saw and heard myself—over and over and over again—within the pages.  I believe most men and women of a certain age exhibit these traits to a greater or lesser degree.  Some of us may even be married to one.  For the record, a curmudgeon is defined as “a bad-tempered, difficult, cantankerous person.”

Who among us hasn’t ranted about the idiots around us, the unflinching rigidity of bureaucrats (white shirts), the virtues of our chosen make of car, the bone-deep certainty of our beliefs?  We might be dead wrong.  We might be espousing opinions whose origins we no longer remember or understand.   We might be making asses of ourselves.  Yet it never occurs to us that we may just be plain wrong.

I can say unequivocally that this is the best book I’ve read all year and I’m at ninety-five titles so far.  Considering it was translated from Backman’s native Swedish, it is impeccable in its language and structure.  The cast of human characters is richly drawn, and even the cat grows on me as Backman imbues it with human emotion and thought.  Each chapter could easily stand alone as a short story but together they create a masterpiece greater than the sum of its parts.

This book made me laugh out loud and nod in recognition.  Yet as the inevitable end drew near I cried like a funeral mourner.  I didn’t want this book or its people to end.  I’ve since learned that an award winning foreign film was made based on the book.  In September it was announced that Tom Hanks would star as Ove in an American remake of the movie.  As good as Hanks is, I doubt that any movie will do the book justice.

Now of course, I want to read everything else Backman’s written.  With titles like My Grandmother Sends Her Regards and Apologies and Britt-Marie Was Here and similar cover art I expect the same technical skill, meaningful subject matter, simple style, humour, and cry your eyes out emotion.  It doesn’t always materialize with follow-up titles but here’s hoping.

In the meantime, I’ve got some opinions and beliefs to unpack and examine, from where I sit.