My choice

Happiness.  We read blogs about how to achieve it.  Shelves are lined with endless books on the steps to reaching such a state. Conversations are riddled with questions about ones state of mind. Essentially it is what each and every person desires.

This was something that I have not struggled with personally.  I looked at the fact that it was a choice, and mine was clear.  Then life got busy.  I found myself in the company of people who struggled with stress and unhappiness.  Although also feeling the stresses of life, I tried to look at the good stuff and focus on that.  Then something happened; I began to feel guilty about feeling good when my companions were feeling to low.  I started to share my unhappy feelings too.  It made me feel like we were bonding better.  Time went on and I continued.  Then came a day when I found myself literally feeling unhappy all of the time.  I was arguing with those closest to me over the most foolish of things. 

Basically I had transformed into a person that I was not even fond of - not a nice realization let me tell you.  I realized, being unhappy had become my new habit.  My happy friends had been replaced by my stressed and dissatisfied circle.

So yeah starting today I am done with endless time talking about how stressed we all are, or how horrible things may or may not be... I am done with the inward focus. 

Running no longer

Transformational.  A cheesy word, but the only one that comes to mind appropriate enough to describe the past couple of years.

One of the challenges with being a single and independent female is that we know we cannot rely on anyone.  We fiercely defend our independence.  We hide our emotions.  At least that was what it was like for me.  I ferociously protected myself to assure that the life I fought hard to build would not crumble around me.

My lifestyle was fast.  Not in the "wall street" sense, but more in that I had no idle time.  Work, gym, friends.  My refrigerator contained a yogurt or two if I was lucky, my desk drawer a bag of nuts or something – eating simply did not fit into my routine.

I felt restless all the time.  Even in my sleep.  The couple of relationships I dallied in soon left me feeling bored and caged. 

But I was happy.  My life was full.  Friends a plenty.  A magnificent family.  A son who touched my life daily.  There however, was always that restless feeling.

On a trip to Zurich a few years ago my ever-wise son sat me down and told me it was time to slow down a bit.  Maybe try to get eight hours of sleep a night.  I listened and did give it a good try. 

The next thing that happened was I ended up in an executive assessment.  Ten hours of brutal testing.  Some parts I did well in, but one part I was weak.  At least per the panel assessing me.  They said I was "too cold". 

"Do you know how to have fun and relax?" they asked.  "Our panel cannot emotionally connect with you.  You are calm and controlled, but we want to also connect with you."  The all-male panel later shared that this was often a problem with career driven females.   

Hmm…  

I mentioned this response to some of the friends I spent time with; "ridiculous" was their reply. I also shared the feedback with the man I was dating.  "Yes, I can see what they meant." 

Before I go on, I want to say that I don’t care much for status quo.  The need to please people is not something for which I strive.  But I do want to be the best version of myself; therefore, when I added up these things, I knew there much be something I could possibly do better.

After some time, I realized that I was so busy proving to no one in particular, that I was fine.  That I needed no one, that I could do it all.  I was ready to battle in a moment's notice.  This resulted in relationships filled with power struggles and me making sure he understood I didn’t need him.  No matter where I was, I took on more than everyone.   People complained about stress – not me.  Bring.  It.  On.  I was happy though.  Up for pretty much anything, and this made me popular amongst my friends.

I decided to start investing my energy in different way.  My guy got me into cooking.  Regular sleep routines.  Netflix series.  Mountain biking and mountain hikes.  I tried to let my guard down with people; sometimes successfully, often not.  I started to eat better.  My refrigerator is usually full.  I can even cry on occasion now, something that was for years completely allusive.  I no longer feel restless.  Finally.

These two years have been a challenge for me.  Modifying a long-standing behavior pattern is not easy.   But what I have learned in this process, was that the façade of absolute control and independence is a fragile one.  It takes constant awareness and an exhausting investment of energy.  It also leaves one feeling restless and searching for something to satisfy. 

 

 

 

 

Texting a Life Away

The couple of times I have joined my colleagues for lunch resulted in them grabbing my phone and keeping it for the duration of the lunch.  "You're so bad with that thing," they said.  I just put it down to them giving me a hard-time, something they do somewhat often.

A visit with my son and he stated "do you think you could be more present mom?"

Still I was able to justify both my actions and their comments.  Then I met a friend for dinner, it had been a while.  I placed my phone on the table, soon we were clinking glasses, chatting and laughing.  A few pings from my phone and I broke from the conversation and quickly responded to the incoming texts.   It was the next moment where things changed for me.  A look of sadness and disappointment radiated from my friends  eyes. I made some excuse, like I always did. "Do you think we can have dinner without your phone tonight?"

My heart broke a little right then.  It broke because it was in that moment that I realized I had a problem. It broke because I could only wonder how many times I made people I cared feel less than happy. 

I don't want to be that person. 

It happened to me the other day too. I was enjoying a nice afternoon with a friend. We were canoeing on the lake on an incredibly beautiful and sunny day.  He started to get texts from friends about an event he was interested in.  Excitedly he texted them back telling me about it also. It continued.  His messages back and forth. I paddled. I paddled alone while he texted.  I enjoyed the beautiful sunny moment. Alone.  I also watched him. I felt pity.  Disappointment.  It was okay for a short while to see him share his excitement for something that was not happening here and now, but then it shifted.  I thought of how beautiful this moment was and that I was unable to share it with the person I was for all intensive purposes supposedly sharing it. 

Then I also thought of how nice it would be to share that moment with someone who might appreciate it.  I wonder, how many times did people have the same thought about me?  I don't want to allow for that opportunity again. 

Life is about the people and the moments you share with them. At least in my opinion. I know I will never for one moment regret not grabbing my phone and breaking a beautiful moment to respond to an inconsequential text. 

I fight the urge to pick up my phone sometimes.  If I were to be really honest, I would have to say that I have good days, and better days.  But I am trying.  I want to be present.  And frankly, I don't want to keep the company of someone who isn't present either.  Next time I go canoeing, or set out to enjoy a moment, I won't be sharing it with the texting friend. He was able to justify why he wanted to text. I was also in the past.  We all can.  But in the end, if we are having to justify - then it's time to take a hard look at what's happening.  I did, and it wasn't pretty.  

A Guy, a Tram and the Giant Baguettes

After another long day at the office, I was headed home.  Since it requires a bit of a tram ride home, I was passing the time with some mindless surfing on my iPhone. 

For those not familiar with tram etiquette, you simply get on the tram and sit in any seat that is available.  You don’t ask for permission, nor do you acknowledge the person who happens to sit beside you.   Antisocial?  Perhaps, but after a long day, you sometimes appreciate not having to engage in conversation with a stranger.   I have to admit however, this was difficult for the chatty Canadian within me.  Initially when I moved here, I tried to engage my seatmates in conversation.  It didn’t work.  In short, it was unwanted.  Perhaps they thought I was crazy, I don’t know. 

So back to the end of my very long day.  The tram came up to another stop.  People were getting on and off the crowded tram and I happened to glance up and notice a particular guy.  He was weighed down with a bunch of groceries while also embracing the longest baguettes I have ever seen.  It somehow amused me.  I wondered what the story was with the cute guy in front of me, and why he dragging around half a grocery store and where he found such massive baguettes.  I guess he caught me looking at him, and seized the moment to sit down beside me.  My iphone once again regained my undivided attention.  That was until he placed the armload of baguettes across my lap.   At this moment I glanced over at my seatmate.  He met my gaze with a look that I will never forget and with it his eyes pleaded with mine, “I know my baguettes are on your lap, but do you think we could just manage to live through this awkward moment?  I would really appreciate it.”  Amused I went back to my phone.  I could feel the eyes of others on the tram trying as well to make sense of the situation. 

So we continued.  My stop came first.  As we pulled up, I signaled my seat partner that it was now time for me to leave, and that he should probably gather his baguettes.  He did.  No words were spoken – but somehow, that shared moment touched me.  It lightened the weight of the hard day I was carrying and pulled me from the completely self-absorbed moment.  I could feel the guy’s gratitude that I didn’t create a drama – both of us well aware of the ridiculousness of the situation.  

I don`t know if there was a particular lesson from this odd experience – other than this moment made me happy in some weird way.  Perhaps only that sometimes being nice can somehow make the day for everyone involved.

Passion and Complacency

I woke early this Saturday morning.  Instead of embracing the luxury of being able to sleep in, my mind woke me racing with the details of my impossible to do list not to mention a bit of anxiety resulting from various uncertainties in my life.  As I was laying there, I received a text from my son, "watch this," he wrote "it is insanely inspiring."

We all receive these videos.  They come by on Facebook, friends and colleagues send

them around - I must confess, I can't be bothered to watch 
them.  Generally speaking, I think we all know deep down what we should and should not do, we do not need a stranger for that.  But, since I had nothing pressing to do and a distraction was most welcome I clicked on the link.  It was an interview with Elon Musk on space travel.

Damn it was inspiring.

Of course I know of this man and his achievements.  Of course I respect immensely what he has achieved.  The man is clearly a genius.

What I did not expect was the person who made the man.  I was completely moved by his determination and passion.  His willingness to pursue a passion even though he knew the odds of success were sometimes stacked significantly out of his favour.  

I must admit, I had fallen into a horrible routine lately.  The hurdles of life of late had distracted me from my view of the horizon.    My vision had become shortsighted.  No wonder I was feeling tired and uninspired.  I even blamed others for this colourless position I now found myself.  How boring and sad was that?  How incredibly pathetic and powerless of me to base my own happiness on the actions of others.  How did I fall into this state of acceptance?

For certain I could sit here and list the countless reasons on how I ended up here.  However, at the end of the day it came down to a decision that I and only I could - and can make. 

Why would I choose to live in a way that lacks passion?  Why would I let my determination waiver?  

During the interview I watched Elon openly share his passion and witness his determination.  I also watched him tear up.

That to me is living.  I am so grateful for this reminder that I received today.  Why the heck would I chose to exist in a zone of complacency and acceptance?  That isn't me.  But then somehow these days, it was me.  Today I am done with it.  I think there is more to fear from living a life devoid of passion than avoiding it.  Sure passion makes us vulnerable, well, it makes me vulnerable anyway.  But it also makes me feel alive, happier, lighter, more authentic - and that to me is well worth the tears along the way.

If you are curious, here is the interview to which I was referring...

...and in keeping with the music theme...

Halfway in and Halfway out

I knew it was going to be difficult, but I had no idea how difficult, difficult could be.  It was a Wednesday afternoon, the temperature was 4000 degrees outside, and 4001  inside.  The day was as long it was hot.  The only good things was that this hot day was turning out to be a beautiful, hot evening.  I was looking forward to meeting some friends and enjoying it.  First thing I wanted to do was get home and change.  Although my nice-enough summer dress kept me as cool as it could the day long, I was ready to move on to something different – and that was exactly when the problem began.

I got stuck in it.  Really.  I was halfway in and halfway out with no way forward or back.  As I worked to get out of my self-made jail, my teeny-tiny flat got warmer and warmer.  My WhatsApp was buzzing with my friends inviting me to share the perfect evening with them.  I tried to explain the situation I was in, but I think that it was so unbelievable that my friends didn’t know what to do think.

Did I mention it was hot?  It was so hot and the amount of gymnastics being performed to either get in or out was substantial.  I needed to cool down, so into the shower I went, the perfect place to contemplate the situation.

I couldn’t help but think of what a friend mentioned to me the other day.  They said that a friend of theirs, after meeting me and finding out I was “still single” felt certain there was something wrong with me.  As I stood in the shower halfway in and halfway out, I wondered too.  It sure would be easier to have someone around to help get me out this rather awkward situation. 

But alas, there I was.

Memories of the people and places long gone popped into my mind.  My life could have been different, but it never felt quite right.  My heart longed for something that until now, had not presented itself.  I thought of my bestest friend and her one-time outburst “why do people think being single is like a disease?”

Though there I was – stuck.

After cooling down, I decided I had few options.  I was going to have to figure it out, or call one of my friends to assist.  In the end I figured it out,  though it took a while.  My BFF and I giggled on the phone as I shared how my evening plans had turned out.  I shared also my reflective thoughts.  “Love the metaphor,” she added.

Truth is I was damn proud.  It was so not easy, but I did it.  As I struggled, I knew that I had friends who would hurry to my side.  Today I shared the story with another of my favorite friends.  “I knew that you would drop everything to come help me,” I stated.  “Of course,” my other BFF said, “but not until I finished rolling on the floor with laughter for an hour or so!”

I know my life isn’t perfect.  I also know that it isn’t the life for everyone, but as I sat there halfway in and halfway out, I knew that my friends would be there for me – whether to get me out, or share in the laughter.  Frankly speaking, that is something that would happily make me give up singledom.  Some people have succeeded in finding that, unfortunately, I haven’t.  I could have settled for something close, but I didn’t.  I am holding out.  So are my BFF`s.  And I cannot help but feel a bit proud of us all.  Just like getting out of that damn dress, it isn’t easy, but what is in life?  Are we different?  I don’t know.  Maybe.  But I gotta say, I am pretty okay with that…  

Still love this song, and somehow fitting for todays blog...

Still here thanks to you...

Would you believe that I just celebrated my third year anniversary here in Zurich?  Before that it was two years in Austria.  It is really a bit difficult to comprehend. Never in this life of mine did I long for a life that involved me leaving my family for an overseas local.  

On a recent trip to Canada, a sales clerk asked me where I was from because I spoke "good English".  I was mortified.  "I am Canadian!" I protested a bit too loudly.  In hindsight I get it. Her friendly Canadian manner was just making conversation after noticing my weird accent. I hear about it enough at home.  My Canadian accent is gone.  Abroad people still laugh like heck when I say "about" and the fact that I sound so Canadian. My British pal whines that I am ruining her accent.  My BFF has perfected my Canadian accent so well, that everyone thinks that she is Canadian, even over me.  

As thoroughly Canadian as I am, it is changing.  Accents, mannerisms, habits, routines - even the way I think has changed.  For instance, in Canada I don't believe I ever made a meeting on time, it was deemed too keen to arrive right on schedule.  Just this week I found myself apologizing for arriving 3 minutes after the scheduled meeting time.

Now for the 5 year look back.  It has not been easy.  My family has in moments suffered in their willingness to support and love me from afar.  I sometimes crawl into bed missing them so much that it literally takes my breath away.  

So why am I still here? Why leave the ones you love most of all? This is a question that I am often asked.  It breaks my heart a little when it happens, but I understand why people ask.  It is weird. Seemingly counterintuitive even.  

It is an answer that is so difficult to explain.  I felt restless.  It was a way of being most of my life.  I was always searching for something.  When with my son and family I felt contentment.  Happiness.  So there I focused my energies even more.  I absorbed them.  As my son pulled away in his eagerness to build his own life, I struggled.  The restless feeling became more prominent.  When the opportunity came up to move - they pushed me to leave.  It was not I that sought it.

But they were right.  The restless feeling eased.  

So on this third year (Zurich) anniversary, I want to thank my incredible family for being who they are - how incredibly lucky I am.  I love you.

I also want to thank this beautiful country for letting me call it home, and the people in it that accept and love this displaced Canadian.

...and it seems fitting to wrap it up with this Canadian song...

Chapter Two

Wow!  Look how long it has been since my last blog. 

As with all of us,  life has been busy.  Fulfilling the demands of responsibilities, experiencing  life and dabbling with the dramas associated with love.  In the months that passed everything changed, but when you look at it in a superficial sense, nothing changed at all.  I am still in Switzerland, my family in Canada, I remain single  - even work remains essentially the same.

But I am not.  

One of the reasons for my blogging absence was that I needed to find my voice.  The experiences that life had thrown my way of late touched me in ways that are difficult to explain.   I only knew that as I sat down and placed my fingers on the keyboard that the words had ceased to flow.  Just as I sought deeper relationships and connections with those that filled my days and life, I needed that deeper connection to also come out in my words.    

So here we go.  A fresh chapter.  I think that Nice might be the perfect setting from which to begin.   Maybe with my best friend too.  

But first, I want to take a moment and thank all those very special people – the ones that I love, loved and to those who also love me no matter what the day or the weather.   You make this life of mine oh so much richer.

Choose Wisely

Initially I titled this blog "wind beneath my wings".  I know it sounds like another terrible cliche, but perhaps they exist for a reason.  Maybe we all experience them at some point in our lives and as a such can easily relate.  Let me elaborate...

Two years have passed since my arrival in Zurich.  I have experienced so much, good and bad - and now I must watch someone close to me face the biggest challenge of his life.  I will not speak about the challenge my friend faces as that is his story to share - not mine. Selfishly I must admit I was thrown off.  I was angry at the injustice of life.  I floated between acceptance and denial - the pendulum swinging to extremes.  In my life, I have learned that one must be prepared to battle if necessary.  But this time the enemy was not mine and I had to accept that this was not a battle I could fight. As I struggled to deal with my helplessness I was in fact even comforted by my friend and his strength.

I cannot believe how incredibly blessed I am with my family.  Always there, I have felt the warmth of unconditional love and support no matter what the hurdle.  Even my son encourages, inspires and supports me to the point that in moments I sometimes wonder who is actually the parent.  But now let me get back to my two years here in Zurich.  I have another family.  My Zurich family.  An eclectic blend of nationalities and backgrounds, they have become incredibly special to me.  This week as I struggled with the fragile veil of composure they were there.  Instantly.  In essence they were indeed the wind beneath my wings this week.

The gratitude I feel for these people is enormous.  As lucky as I am to have such an amazing family back home, I am also extraordinarily fortunate to have this adopted Zurich one as well.

In all my written ramblings over the years, I have refrained from offering any type of advice or specific insight - but today that is different.  I say choose wisely.  Someday, sometime we will unfortunately all face a challenge, so choose carefully the people you let close to you.  Let the ones go who are unworthy.  Decide what type of friend you want to be.  Enjoy the moments, the days, the laughter.  Choose the type of life you want.  I have an amazing one, simply because of the company I choose to keep.

Poutine!

I introduced my friends to the infamous French Canadian POUTINE (not sure why autocorrect insists on all capitals here) last night, and despite their skepticism it was a resounding success. 

Of course I could not obtain cheese curds, so we improvised with a few variations.  Even the blue cheese version went over well. 

A combination of French fries, gravy and cheese - diets were parked at door.  

And then we had to move on to some salmon marinated in maple syrup and jalapeño.  It is a bit fun sharing some of the taken-for-granted-Canadian-stuff with friends here.

Although I miss having all the entertaining  "gear" that I had back in Canada, I am making do and enjoy cooking for friends once again.  

At First Sight

That is it.  I am completely and totally in love.

The first evening was spent wandering about the city
streets, delightfully lost.  

I have never really had a surprise trip before.  Although I had some suspicions about the destination,  I really did not ultimately know until I was at the gate.  How is this possible in today's modern world of high security air travel?  Let me just say that I did not even have to show one piece of identification from the moment I entered the airport until arriving at the hotel.  Yes, apparently the hotel was more concerned about my identity than airport security, but alas that is a rant and not quite what I am in the mood for today.

So I arrived in Venice (not Venus as auto correct would prefer to have had me doing for some reason) and immediately fell in love.

There was an adorable old book store, absolutely loaded with used books.  Anyone who knows me is well-acquainted with my affinity for old and antique books.  The wonderful staircase of books was hidden in the books store's rear courtyard and lead to a spectacular canal view.  I could have spent hours there.

This little trip was good for me.  As I shared before, the road has been a bit bumpy lately.  I have spent much time worrying about things of which I had no control.  Enjoying a moment had become difficult because I was not in it.  My mind was elsewhere.  

Of course we had to do a tour on the black gondola. I like to call this photo "rush hour in Venice."

To cross or not to cross?  Translated this sign reads "Bridge of the Devil". Guess what I did?

How could I not fall in love with this place when waking to this view each morning of my short stay?

Heading under the famous Rialto bridge in the black gondola.

But then Venice happened.  I found myself living only in the moment.  Absorbing the history, the people, the vibe of the place - I have to admit that I even adore the sound of the language.  No, it is not my first time in Italy, far from it in fact, I seem to have sort of have a thing for this country.

Anyway, to ramble on seems wrong somehow.  I cannot do the affection I have for this place justice - perhaps the photos will instead :)

So true.  I found this at the Peggy Guggenheim Museum and loved the sentiment.

Lost in Translation

Call me childish, but the name of this place made me smile.  I found it while enjoying the most amazing ski day at Flims.  

Unanticipated Change

Wednesday my BFF and I were enjoying a few laughs during our weekly wellness evening.  My friend, the consummate planner was struggling with another friends insistence on keeping a visit spontaneous.  It was pushing my friend completely out of her comfort zone and I must admit I enjoyed watching her struggle with it.

I have always been spontaneous.  Actually more like a commitment phobic, I have spent most of my adult life deflecting efforts to organize my free time.  It worked in the beginning with my friend.  She just booked me in for stuff and I just sort of showed up.  I didn't have to plan.

Fast forward a year later.  I am to go to a dinner party at a friends house tonight.  I knew this 6 days in advance.  Even then I found myself having to rebook and move my schedule around to accommodate the dinner.  This morning I woke up and felt restless, even though I did not have any particular plan, I was a bit anxious about knowing what time dinner was so I could plan out my day in between.

Funny.

And this week I decided to organize my own dinner party so I could expose my friends to the merits of an artery clogging poutine dinner.  After mapping out schedules with my two must have people for the dinner, we ended up settling on a date in mid April.

Somehow, someway it seems that my commitment phobic ways have eased up.  That sense of panic I used to feel for planning far in advance is gone.  I am okay with committing to spend time with someone or something.  I do not want to explore the psychology behind it all, because I am sure both you and I have better things to do than wade through all that muck.

And of course that triggered some more reflection.  I thought of how punctual I have become, the result of my structured Swiss environment. I also thought of how I avoid buying things and spend more on experiential moments.  After owning two cars for many years I have almost reached the two year mark of having no vehicle and travel only by public transport.  I have learned to be comfortable in my own skin, literally, when I enjoy the much coveted sauna evenings.  I have learned to put the credit card away and pay only with cash.  I learned the incredible value of friendship from living somewhere entirely alone.  The list is long.  I suppose over the past 4 years I have changed a bit more than I thought.  Change was not something that I set out to do on this transatlantic adventure of mine.  But I did.  I am not the same person I was when I left my home country.

I am so thankful for this experience.   For all of it.  The people, the places.  I did not plan to move to Europe ever.  It was not a part of my life goals.  The whole thing just sort of happened before I had really absorbed the reality of it all.  And in the end, I think I am better for the experience of it.

A Second Chance

I had a nice chat with my mother last night.  She recently found my blog here and read over my Panama plane entry.  Her advice was that I should read that one over every now and then. 

So I did.

It is funny really, we face something traumatic  and then life as we know it changes.  But, I suppose we can slip into the rigger of routine and forget what it is like to face death in the eye but escape its grasp.

This is exactly what happened to me.

I forgot the elation of simply being alive.  Of being able to see those I love again.  To experience daily routines.  To make new friends.  To love, to to be hurt.  Such an amazing gift it was to walk off that plane alive.

I slipped a little recently.  I forgot how incredibly fortunate I am to just wake up to another day.  I might even have forgotten to tell some special people how incredibly important they are to me. 


Here is the link to the blog about the unforgettable Panama flight.  http://dawns-rant.blogspot.ch/2011/11/plane-buzzard-and-no-regrets.html

Hockey Time!

Trust me, this statement is more true that you could possibly imagine.

Last Sunday evening I was watching the Finland versus Canada hockey game with a friend.  He had made the mistake of turning the game on for me while he prepared something for us to snack on.  Immediately engrossed, I failed to hear anything he was uttering until the "oh my god you really are Canadian aren't you?"

Yeah.  I don't know how it happens, but it does.  When I was teen, my popularity soared when I started dating the lead scorer on the top local hockey team.  My indirect affiliation with a budding hockey hero providing the validation necessary to enhance my social standing with my peers.  Weekends I spent happily rink side cheering my then boyfriend and recounting each moment with my friends.  Sadly our relationship ended when he transferred his passion from hockey to curling.  Watching someone sweep ice weekend after weekend was not really my thing it seems.

Anyway, I still adore hockey.  I love the live sound of skates on ice, the tension of a tight game, enjoy my beer from the plastic cup while I watch - I simply love being there.  Now it is the Olympics.  We are doing well this year.  But as I write this I am also watching the Sweden versus Canada playoff game.  Facebook was alive with people back home happily waking at 4, 5, 6 am on a Sunday to take in this game.  I like that I am watching this at the same time as so many of my friends and family back home, it is a passion shared by an entire country.  Hockey is the one sport, or one thing,  that essentially unites our country.  Winter is unbearable without it.

I recall the last Olympics in Vancouver.  After being on the road for three months I happened to land in the middle of the Canada versus US hockey game.  No one would pick me up.  Grabbing the last taxis at the airport, I couldn't help but notice the roads were practically empty of cars.  Canadians instead at home on the edge of their seats.  Not only is hockey important, but we take particular pride when we happen to beat the US - so I really didn't stand a chance.  Any self respecting Canadian would not miss such a moment.

It is kind of cool.  I am an ocean away, but right now I enjoying, and sharing in a Canadian moment.

I picked this video because it is a sampling of some of the songs that you hear at a hockey game.  Just listening to the mix puts me a good mood.  Go Canada!

Another Sunny Saturday

Just spent some time updating my running playlist. This Hedley tune seems to add a little extra bounce in my stride, so I decided to share.

Happy Saturday :)

A Morning Moment

I woke up feeling particularly happy today. In part because I could feel the warmth of missed sunshine upon my face along with the promise of a beautiful day. Happy text messages from back home were waiting on my phone.  Another message from my BFF away on a trip but still making certain I had interesting things to fill my every spare moment. My flat filled with the smell of the beautiful bouquet of flowers that were laying on my desk when I arrived for work the day before.   

And, it was also in part because of the evening before.  A long, relaxed dinner eating exotic foods, the likes of which I dare not share here. Conversation that covered every subject imaginable; food, wine, our cultures, work, life, travel, family  – even taxes.  I have known my friend for a long time, but this was the first time we had ever talked in such detail.  I still feel the glow of a good time spent.

The past few weeks have had me questioning a few of my life decisions.  Pressures from a continent away.  Days that challenged me to the point of numb exhaustion.  I could not help but question essentially everything.   The cloudy days only exasperating the doubt that lay heavy on my mind.

But today, it is different. 

Ground Day and Sechseläuten

A meme came by on my Facebook feed that made me smile. I have a few friends that pass around funny ones and was about to share this particular one when I realized that there was no point.  You see, it was about Groundhog Day.  Yeah, every Canadian (and American) knows what I am talking about here.  It is one of those things that we do not really, truly embrace as fact – but rather as some sort of assurance that indeed winter was coming to a close.

Each year Groundhog Day falls on February 2nd.  How it works is someone sets up a camera outside of a groundhog hole.  If it happens to be cloudy when  he exits his underground home for the day then spring will come early. If it it is sunny, the groundhog allegedly with see his shadow and retreat back into the ground then we all have to suffer through another for six more weeks of winter.

Ironically, this whole Groundhog thing was started by German immigrants in Pennsylvania.  At least that is the best that I can find. Anyway, my point is that not one over here would really appreciate that meme.  

And then I thought of Sechseläuten.  I experienced it for the first time last year.  This is an event that happens exclusively in the Canton of Zurich.  It takes place on the "must take" route to my home so I am a participant whether I want to be or not.  A big deal, the results of this event make news headlines all over the country.  You see, depending on how quickly the giant snowman (filled with explosives) burns is a direct indicator of how long summer will be in Switzerland.  The burning takes place usually on the third Monday of April, normally following Ash Wednesday.

Although both different, the wishful thinking that lay behind for warmer weather is similar. I get them both.  Fun, and a wonderful conversation piece they are however not conversations that easily work continent to continent.  I cannot imagine explaining to my colleagues about the groundhog. They would think Canadians are already a bit more strange than what they already do.  And to explain to a Canadian about a firework filled snowman  - well, they would think I was a bit strange too.

So, after all of that – I decided to keep the groundhog meme to myself.  

Friday Night

Friday arrived and I need to get out.  The week was a long one for me.  In fact one evening I was home and congratulating myself on making it through Wednesday when I realized it was just Tuesday.  That day sure felt like two in one let me tell you.  Therefore I didn't want to make plans as I was torn between wanting to get away to somewhere or just surviving with some modicum of humour left.   

I think I need one of these for my wall at home.  Okay, perhaps not.

Friday night arrived and I was restless.  I wanted to get out.  But I was particular. I wanted casual, easy conversation and a good vibe.  My best pal suggested el Lokal.  It was perfect.  The sort of place you can just be, relax and look around. Since it is sort of a unique place here, I decided to share a few photos.

This guy is hanging off the ceiling.  He sort of looked exactly how my week felt :)

When you run out of conversation 
(okay, that never happens to me)
there is plenty of useful stuff around 
to help out with that.

Canada!  Yeah.  A bit pathetic, but hey...

Home

Hmm... A lot of truth to these words.