Out of the Comfort Zone

Have you ever had a bad day? No, I mean a really bad day, that has maybe turned into a bad week, a bad month, a bad year? We all have those to varying degrees. These moments/situations/circumstances are impossible to compare one to the other. One person's end-of-the-world scenario is another person's it-could-be worse scenario. I feel like I've lived through the worst a person can experience, yet I know that there are people out there who have had it much, much worse than me. It doesn't matter, though, because what I've gone through is mine, I own it, and I get to decide what to do with it. And that's just the point. Bad things happen. All the time. We don't always control what happens either. What we can control, though, is how we react in the face of what happens. Someone told me the other day that she had read that stress is a construct, something that is made up, not really real. I've thought about what she said all week, especially since I'v...

Everyone thinks that they've got the best idea, the better way do things, the solution that makes the most sense. After all, if we didn't think it was the best, then why would we be doing it? Take parenting, for example. My husband and I have made countless decisions over the years in the best interest of our children. Sometimes we're right, and sometimes we're wrong, but we always start from a place that we think is right, in line with our beliefs and values. Obviously we think that our way is the best way, otherwise we would change our way of doing things. Clearly, though, we aren't raising our kids exactly like our neighbours, or even our very best friends. That's because we're different. And that's OK. It's easy, however, to look at a child in the throws of a tantrum and declare that those parents are out in left field. Because, of course, our child would never act that way. Our child is perfect. Ah, perfection. It amazes me that we are sti...

Years ago, I got into the habit of saying thank you to everyone I worked with as I said goodbye at the end of the day. I felt that it was something that I wanted to hear and that if I said it, then that person would go home feeling valued and appreciated. I stick to this routine even today, hoping that the recipient feels that their day was well spent and that their hard work did not go unnoticed. This evening, I got a response to an email that I sent to a colleague earlier. My original message was an apology. I left work in a hurry (unusual for me) and forgot that this person needed something from me. As soon as I left, I felt uncontrollable guilt (not unusual for me), and I swore that I would contact her as soon as I got home. That's just what I did, not expecting a response. She wrote back, saying that it was no big deal since another colleague had come to the rescue, but also saying thanks for the support that I had shown for her initiative. I'm not sure if it was the bac...

The courageous conversation, the difficult discussion, the hard talk... Whatever you want to call it, I hate it. Passionately. In public, in private, personally, professionally, the mere thought of confronting someone sends a tsunami raging through my brain and gets my stomach tied up in a swirling tornado. Ugh. Growing up, I did not learn how to stand up and say what needed to be said. Instead, I learned how to say what people wanted to hear and appease them for the time being. I discovered ways of getting around the issue or avoiding it altogether. I became adept at observing, keeping my opinions to myself and using words very, very carefully. Good qualities to have, sure, but not always the best way to go in every situation. While I was doing my graduate certificate through a local university, I discovered that this was a skill that I could learn. Perfect, since I love learning new things. The professor was just the right kind of encouraging, and my classmates were ultra support...

After two and a half long months of being on crutches and in a cast, I was eager to get back into exercising. The absence of spinning, yoga and running in my life this summer has been detrimental to my physical and psychological well-being. Anybody who knows me understands that physical activity is my therapy, and without it, well, let's just say it's a good thing nobody else got hurt! So, you can probably imagine my delight, my excitement, my utter joy when the doctor gave me the go-ahead to begin my routine again. Some of you may be reading this and thinking, "Ok, whatever floats your boat..." That's alright, we all have our "thing" that keeps us sane through the craziness of life. For me, like for so many other people, yoga is the answer. I haven't, however, always been a big fan of yoga. In fact, the first time I tried it I thought I wouldn't be able to get over the idea of laying myself bare and vulnerable for all to witness. It took yea...