I digress...

Once upon a time, there was a girl who thought technology was going to be the demise of human-kind. She scoffed at people (including her husband) who would check their phones incessantly. It was deemed unconscionable to even LOOK at a phone while in anyone else's presence. She hesitated and died a little inside when her husband bought her an e-reader one Christmas ("Oh No!" she thought. "How can this relationship work when he's one of THEM?!?"). 

Then, one day, she foolishly broke her wrist right before a trip to England. After nearly 8 months of barely using her e-reader, she found she could carry innumerable books with her abroad while not breaking a sweat! This made her a little feverish with glee...but no one needed to know THAT tidbit of information...

While abroad, her archaic phone became virtually non-functional. So, upon arriving back home, she decided she would upgrade to a smart phone. But she wouldn't abuse it. In fact, she would be stoic and discrete to the point that people wouldn't even KNOW she had a smart phone! After all, people had just recently discovered she had an e-reader! Unbeknownst to them, she was falling in love with it...but no one needed to know THAT tidbit of information, either.

Well, imagine what happened when she discovered all the functions of the "smart" phone! At first, the idea of using it as an actual computer to figure things out just plain scared her. Check email, weather, and even the bus schedule? What?!? And what was this business of chirping and linking?? All very foreign concepts to her.

Until...ding...what's that? I know when I get an email automatically!?! And bzzz...what's that? I can get an alert when I'm "tagged?" Uh oh...did I say, "I"?? I meant "she"!! 

No matter, this is completely fictional...

So, as I type this on my laptop with my newer, pocket-sized e-reader (interestingly enough, in my pocket) and my precious phone to my right, I don't see myself as having succumb. I'm not weak, really, I'm not! I can  be plugged in and still pay attention to you. 

Oh, hold on a minute, I've got a message...

When I'm uber busy, there is no question as to what needs to get done, and those things GET done! When I suddenly have time, I get so lost in the possibilities that if I don't act quickly, the time has disappeared into the ether and I feel guilty. So, this morning when I had that foreboding sense that I was going to "lose" it (time), I took action! And I'm so grateful that I did. My journey led me to a peaceful, self-reflective day that still has me smiling.

Admittedly, my first stop was a sinful treat that happens maybe twice a year--Cafe Crepe on Queen West in Toronto. I had a fantastic, savoury crepe with real maple syrup (they really DO go well together!), accompanied by a Nutella latte...yes, to my fellow nutritionists...no typo...and no apology...

Enjoying every morsel of crepe while reading Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen by Christopher McDougall), I realized I was the only one in the crowded restaurant seated alone. This doesn't bother me. While I love eating out with family and friends, I'm also surrounded by people throughout my regular day, and sometimes it feels good to sit alone so I can make sure my voice is still present in my head.  It's easy to get lost in the chatter, so regrouping is definitely necessary for my own sanity.

Once that leg of my day was done, I headed to the Art Gallery of Ontario. I LOVE the AGO. In fact, I have  a long-standing love affair with the AGO. When I was in school, I used to volunteer in their bookstore. Afterwards, throughout university, I had a student membership and would visit frequently, often just choosing a different section of the gallery to sit in with my notebook (writing poems to accompany some works...not sketching...no talent there!) while gazing at whatever my mood led me towards. I even did an internship there while studying Book and Magazine Publishing, editing and proofreading various things. The odd thing is that I'm not an art history major or even remotely talented in a way that most people drawn to galleries are. I'm just a lover of beauty and stories, and my GOODNESS the AGO is filled with both.

So, upon arrival there today, a sense of calm settled over me, and as I checked my coat in, the volunteer there saw the picture of my cat on my phone. She said she also had a cat, and when I asked what its name was, she answered Cyprus! My full-on grin prompted her to ask why that was strange. I told her that was where my family was from, and whether she had any connection to the country. She said no... that it was just a beautiful name that she'd always loved how it sounded. Familiarity always oozes from that place. A great way to start the next phase of my afternoon!

I went and saw a few of my faves to start with: Otto Dix's Dr. Heinrich Stadelmann (I'm always mesmerized by his creepy eyes depicting the horrifying, emotional reality post-WWI), Henry Moore's gallery of gorgeous statues, Barbara Hepworth's Mother and Child, to name barely any! But stumbling upon Patti Smith's photography exhibit was elating. I really knew next to nothing about her, but I feel that she completely gives all of herself to her photographs, and they had me hypnotized. Her relationship with her surroundings makes me believe that she is truly connected to all that she photographs. I was witnessing the love she felt for her mentors and friends through her work. I heard people commenting aloud and to themselves while passing various selections (one man chuckled in admiration, "Hermann Hesse's Typewriter! Huh!"). Of course, I couldn't help but think that this must be an artist's greatest form of flattery--whether with the written word, sculpture, photograph, or any type of artwork--to stir emotions in people as she was is just so very cool.

After the Patti Smith collection, I came across the Michael Snow exhibit (a modern, industrial installation that was unique in and of itself), and I started chatting with one of the security guards. We got into an earnest conversation about what a shame it is that galleries aren't accessible to a lot of people in our city. They're expensive! I told him I usually go to the gallery on Wednesday nights (free), and he said, "But it's so busy!" It is, but it's most accessible at that time. 

Art has so much more to offer than just pretty pictures and photos. It shouldn't be an elitist luxury. Art is an ongoing statement of life, emotion, and the world's history. It connects people in its ability to "speak" in new and unusual ways. It tells stories, enrages, delights, and awes. Sometimes it bores. But that's the great thing! It's like music--there are so many forms of it and limitless ways of expressing oneself that different kinds speak to different personalities and experiences. Everyone SHOULDN'T love EVERYTHING. People gravitate towards what moves them. That's the beauty.

So, as my day draws to a wonderful close, I feel lucky to have spent it rejuvenating my heart and soul. I spent it feeling united with my surroundings, and I'm better for it. Learning something new is always a good way to spend some time. There are people who feel that they need to be busy all the time, feeling pressure to always be ON, but without these moments of solitude and immersion in something other than what NEEDS to be done, then we can get lost in other people's realities.

After a day of reconnecting with myself, and with a great sigh of contentment, I feel fully prepared and happy to re-enter the world of need...until the next opportunity for complete and utter selfish me-time occurs...maybe accompanied by another crepe, if the fates allow...

Post-Olympic Revelations

The grace, speed, flexibility, and skill of the athletes at this year's London Olympics were insanely inspirational! Some of these athletes have muscles bulging out of places I always thought impossible to sculpt! Even more impressive was the time they put into preparing and the sheer will and look of determination emanating from their whole beings, from facial expressions to flexed muscles right before competing--extraordinary!

Now, a layman can do one of two things while watching these incredible athletes: 1) cry at the thought of never being able to achieve such superhuman abilities, or 2) jump up off the sofa and spring into action towards becoming a better version of herself! Of course, there may be that third options of complete indifference, but my scenario works better with the two ideas presented...

On the final day of the Olympics, my husband and I were scheduled to run a 5 km race through Toronto's beautiful Distillery District. Well, not so much through as on the roads surrounding it, but the fact remains, a 5 km race was to be run! I got a bit busy (lazy? distracted? insert appropriate adjective here depending on the day!) after our last race in April. I still ran, but no where near as much as I should have to continue improving. So, come race day I didn't have grandiose ideas of chiselling tons of time off my previous race time. It'd be great if I could at least be on par with it, actually.

I've always loved running, and I've always done it recreationally. I was on the cross country team in high school, and while I was no where near the top of the pack, I always enjoyed it. I never ran to beat anyone else, I just loved how strong I felt. Over the years, I haven't been as consistent with it. I've been more of a cyclist than a runner, but even then, the cycling was more of a mode of transportation to and from work and farmers' markets rather than through beautiful trails and parks. The truth of it is, I've always been somewhat afraid of competition. By nature, the stars peg me as super competitive (Scorpios are supposed to be tough and want to win win WIN!). But I was always more comfortable just getting lost in the rest of the crowds, being an average runner, swimmer, basketball player, softball player, etc. I was never really comfortable with the attention it all garnered. I'm not going to psycho-analyze here, I'm just saying that it is what it is. In fact, the fear of competing actually led me to faking an ankle injury one dumb and youthful year in grade nine at a cross country meet. I actually panicked at how many people showed up to watch people run! What was that about? The facial expressions of runners are not the most attractive! Sweat and smells aside, there are wrinkled foreheads, squinted eyes, massive whale-like exhalations, and so much more! It just freaked me out! I'm embarrassed by it, but I was 14 and have no excuse except that I WAS 14!

As ashamed as I am to even admit that I did that, I think it's more important to own the fear as an adult. I think so much of what we shy away from as adults are from patterns we became comfortable with as kids, and the only way to break out of those bad patterns is to own them as choices from a former, younger, inexperienced self and to just move on. Listening to so many of the stories from Olympic athletes and knowing that some of them (a lot of them!) had such crazy obstacles and fear but still pushed on made them so much more human (although I believe that many of them have some superhero qualities!), and it made me want to be so much better at the things I love doing.

So, on race day, when the gun sounded, I took off and just felt immense gratitude for each part of my body and mind that allowed me to be fully present and able to run. During one run with my husband while we were training, I found myself unable to control the urge and yelled out, "Come on lungs!" And then we found ourselves laughing. Steve followed that with "Come on legs!" and the laughter continued (he had some running injuries that he was trying to work through). On race day, I silently thanked my body and remembered to have fun with it, and I reminded myself that no one was there to watch me specifically, so the pressure was off to impress anyone but ME.

A few days prior to this race, one of the Olympic athletes had run a 5 km in 13 minutes. Thirteen minutes!!! I laughed as this thought crossed my mind while I ran, and when my time came in at 36 (37? I can't remember exactly) minutes, I was just grateful that my legs carried me through.

Now that the fear is (almost) gone, I find that I'm suddenly training every day. The only person I'm competing against is myself. I'm aiming for 35 minutes or less for the next race, and then 30 minutes, and so on, but in the interim, I'm just having a great time feeling present and at peace after forgiving my younger self's inadequacies. Eventually, I'll run 10 km, and then a half marathon. A friend of mine just did the Tough Mudder competition and rocked it! As hard as it was, she went in knowing her strengths and weaknesses and played to those, and came through it feeling it was an experience to be treasured. I'm not sure I'm there, but my options are definitely expanding with every run I do.

So, thank you Olympic athletes and athletes everywhere for helping me release the fear! Whether it's a 5 km, a marathon, the Warrior Dash or Tough Mudder, I realize now that some fear is normal. To quote the amazing gramma from PARANORMAN:

 "It's alright to be scared, as long as it doesn't change who you are."