I have been trying to golf since I was seventeen. When I first moved to Alberta, my dad took me to the golf course on the Base and showed me how to move the ball closer to the hole. I wasn’t much interested at that time. At seventeen my mind was on other things. Through the years I have joined ladies’ leagues and golf clubs and learned the intent and the rules of the game but until recently I hadn’t taken an interest in the score or the swing. Now I find that those two things are related.

As a retired person living with a golfer on a golf course, I have begun to take the game seriously. I have put in more rounds of golf this year than in complete seasons before now, and it is still June. Since COVID made golf one of the few things you could still do outside with other people, I have played regularly, once or twice a week with some wonderful friends who were very encouraging and who introduced me to experts who could influence my game. I even joined an online golf school to learn more about how to improve my swing.

This year, having spent more days at the course, and expanded to 18 holes at a time with Norm, I am finally seeing results. The Swing is the thing. There are so many things to think about when you swing. There’s the setup that has up to 10 things for you to do to prepare for the swing. Then there is the stance. Every part of your body needs to be in the correct position. During the swing you are aware of the back swing, the ball contact and the follow through and with each club type you have to adjust that and then there is the grip. Yikes!

Here’s the thing. When you ‘approach’ the ball you have to forget all that and rely on body memory to hit the ball and move it closer to the hole. I have adjusted my grip, my stance, and my position relative to the ball. I have created a mantra to sing to myself during the backswing and the follow-through, and I have swung enough times that I no longer take 5 minutes to get ready to swing. It’s coming together. My swing and my score are improving.

Patience and encouragement from my fellow golfers and my golfing roommate have helped. I enjoy the game more now that I feel like I can play with greater confidence that I can make the shot and lower my score. I also find that the words my father used to teach me the game years, no decades, ago are finally making sense to me. Max always said…”Don’t hit the ball. Swing the club.” Thanks, Dad. I get it now.

I have been less than communicative for the past while. Norm and I have moved. We moved every box ourselves, filling our vehicles and driving the 15-minute drive to the new location a gazillion times, filling and emptying bins and boxes into cupboards and closets for 10 days. Then the furniture arrived and a few items from Leon’s to complete the form and function of the place. We are almost there. The new BBQ has been assembled and most things have found a place. We are awaiting the opportunity to go and fetch the motorcycle to complete the move. The new place is great. It has high ceilings and a great view and really friendly neighbours.

I am tired but happy.

Before the move, I had a push on to complete an E-book I had been working on for At the Helm. A manuscript with 10 chapters has been delivered. That feels good. Through all of this, we have managed to fit in 10 rounds of golf. It feels like the old days of burning the candle at both ends, only back then I didn’t feel this fatigued after a three-week run of 12 -14 hour days.

They say the secret to ageing gracefully is to keep moving. Do you think this is what they meant? Moving house is physically, mentally and emotionally a drain. Living in a place that offers great programs and a community that supports active living with many amenities and activities will be physically, mentally and emotionally uplifting. I think that’s the kind of ‘moving’ they were talking about. Here we can golf, play tennis or pickleball, go to dances, listen to live music, walk or bike the trails, kayak or canoe, play pool, workout at the gym, and that is only the summer season activities.

I am tired but happy that we made the move so that we can keep moving.

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Aloha, everyone. Today is our last full day in Hawaii … for this year. I am already looking forward to next year. I love this place. Even though we had a few unfortunate circumstances, everything has worked out for the best. Golfed twice. Snorkelled in two different locations. Lots of pool and beach time. Sunny days, an earthquake and 30-foot swells. It is always interesting. Things are changing here the way they are everywhere else. Businesses close or change ownership and name. Prices increase. Traffic increases. The number of people here on the Big Island feels like more than in other years. Things are also staying the same. The wonderful weather and the aloha spirit live on. The highlight for me was the snorkelling trip we took with Sea Paradise. I love sailboats and this gorgeous catamaran was under sail for the trip back. I felt something greater than the nervousness I usually feel when I snorkel. A calm, peaceful excitement settled in as I watched a manta swim directly under me. It was so wonderful to be in the ocean and see its wonders so clearly. And the whales!! A mother and baby on the way out. The crew estimated the baby was 2 or 3 days old. And four or five show-offs trying to out-breach each other for 10 minutes, jumping right out of the water on the way back. Thrilling. The whole 5-hour tour was exquisite. The ocean was very present when we golfed right on the shores of the biggest water hazard in the world. During our second round, it was angry. Waves crashing sending spray 5 stories high. It was exhilarating. It didn’t improve my putting though. All of this happened while my dear friends in Halifax dealt with not one but two snowstorms of record proportion, five feet over three days. That’s a lot of snow and then, days later, another foot or more. Back in Alberta tomorrow. Already planning to come back to this magical place soon. ALOHA

It’s January 20, 2024. In my 71st year, my life is good. I look back on things that have happened with a different perspective, and I find that there are opportunities not taken that might have changed the course. I have met with the communications departments of large national companies and went ill-prepared for the meeting, not interested in the gig. I have joined golf clubs and country clubs and have not taken full advantage of the schmoozing opportunities to find interesting and lucrative work. I have followed my instincts and I have ended up in a great place with no regrets. Introspection is good but when you are out of the industry and enjoying retirement, it can be humbling. My accomplishments are modest. I hope that I have made a difference in some people’s lives and that I can continue to do that in this next phase through writing and blogging and creating online learning experiences, and videos that will last forever. This week I sent the final content pages on Relational Intelligence, Skills, and Knowledge to Andrew, at At the HELM. Now I wait. I remind myself that it’s a draft. That is written on my whiteboard. “It’s just a draft.” It took six weeks to go through the library of my life’s work, to sort out the pieces that would fit, to write the pieces that were more suited to a nautical theme and to let go of the draft. Intellectually and emotionally the experience could have been draining and at times I think it was. Mostly it was humbling. To review ALL the I have written in that way lets you see your contribution. I am not finished. I am excited for RISK to find a following. I believe there is a book there and I know that I am in a place where I can review Mapping the Space Between Us and prepare to publish it. That was another missed opportunity. It needs finishing. With a little help, I can meet my new self-imposed deadline … June 2024. Wish me luck and poke me once in a while with a gentle reminder to keep the blazes at it.

About a week ago I made stew.  Norm likes stew.  I like stew, too. I haven’t eaten much beef in the last 10 years, but I could enjoy the vegetables in the gravy and Norm could eat the rest.  So, I got the crock pot out of the cupboard and began to make the stew. I wanted it to be special, so I was careful to follow all the instructions I think I have ever heard on how to make it. I added herbs, onion, garlic etc.  Somewhere along the line, I remembered that Norm liked steak spice, so I also added some of that.  I also remembered that he liked the battered fish I made when it had more salt and pepper, so I added more salt and pepper. He had shared some tips from other stews that he had enjoyed like adding a bouillon cube. I had bought beef broth even though I had never used it in stew before.  I thought it could replace the bouillon cube and add flavour. I let the stew stew all day and when I did the first taste test I was confused.  It tasted horrible.  Too much of something or too much of everything.  It was bad.  I thought I had heard that you could add baking soda to counteract over-spicing, so I added that and a couple of cups of water and prayed.  It was still bad. I served it up, in small portions so we could taste it before we had more.  Norm bravely cleaned his plate.  I ate mine all the while apologizing for the spiciness.  I wasn’t just spicy.  The blend of the spices was way off.  I mean it was bad. A couple of days later the leftover stew was still in the casserole in the fridge.  We were out finishing up some Christmas shopping when Norm reached for my hand. “Are you listening?” he asked. “Yes,” I answered.” Okay, because this is important and could change our relationship, so I need you to hold my hand and pay attention.” He had my attention.  What could this be?  A revelation? or a confession? I waited for him to search for the correct way to tell me whatever it was.  Finally, he said “I can’t eat any more of your stew.  I think it needs to be thrown out. I don’t want you to be upset with me, but I think we should go out for supper tonight.” He announced sheepishly. “I agree,” I said, squeezing his hand. I was so relieved.  I started to laugh. I confessed that I didn’t want to suffer the same heartburn I had had after the first dose, and I was ready to toss it. We reaffirmed our pact to tell each other the truth even if it’s difficult to hear. Then we started comparing the offending stew to other not-even-close-to-delicious dishes we had eaten in the past and agreed to try again in the future. There is a lesson in there somewhere.  The stew seems like a metaphor for my life.  I am rarely satisfied with sticking to a formula or a recipe and always think that more is better. It’s true in my writing.  A lot of words get edited out on the second and third read. It’s true in my wardrobe. I have so many pairs of boots and sandals. Until recently I didn’t understand the wisdom of downsizing, of cutting back, of having enough … no need to buy more.  I know that I can survive comfortably with less furniture, less clothing, and fewer food choice in the fridge.  I have been adjusting. Fewer new books, fewer new shoes, reusing older items or buying second hand.  Decluttering is important, and I have been discarding and shredding documents and getting rid of things I really can do without at this stage in my life. I have also learned to NOT replace what I give away. Sometimes adding things, words, and ideas just complicates matters. I say I want a simpler life and I do. There is simply no need for as much stuff as I have collected over the years.  I knew that … but I don’t think I saw how destructive “more” could be until the stew. Keeping it simple has new meaning for me today. Meat, vegetables, a little water and time.  That’s all it needed.

Thank you to those who took the time to react to my first post in a long time. I appreciate your time and attention. As some of you mentioned, life is good for me right now. I agree. Halifax has become a growing metropolis with different problems than it had when I was growing up here. It is stretched to the proverbial limit. Growing fast and still able to retain its historic charm. Norm and I have seen a play at the Neptune Theatre and a concert at the Rebecca Cohn Theatre. We have walked and dined on the new and much-improved waterfront. We have golfed at some of the surrounding golf courses, and we have breakfast on Sundays at the Chebucto Inn with wonderful friends from my high school days here in Halifax. Next on the list is a Moosehead’s Game at the Scotiabank Centre. I see my cousins and my golf buddies for lunch every now and then at restaurants that are becoming my favourites. We never run out of stories to tell or laughter to share. I spend time in Mahone Bay where Cousin Danielle has opened yet another fabulous eatery. First, it was Betty’s at the Kitch’inn and now it’s Eli and Trix. I can highly recommend both restaurants and the Kitch’inn which she describes as “Not your grandmother’s B and B.” My mother would love her and what she has become. She would describe her as a going concern, and I agree. My mother would also be pleased that I have been spending time with her nieces. She cared a lot about them and their families. Christmas is coming and for the first time in a very long time, I will be staying here in Halifax for the holidays. We will spend time with Norm’s family here in Halifax and ‘up the Valley’ as they say around here and with friends and family of mine. I will miss the physical presence of my girls and their families, but we will connect in the same way that many of you will be connecting with family. People are able to cross distances differently today than we did when I was a kid here in Halifax. The girls and I (and their families from time to time) ‘meet’ on Facetime on Fridays and holidays and we will be together in person again soon when Norm and I head back to Alberta. My Christmas wish is that Norm and I take a walk along a rocky beach with the waves crashing and the salt air hitting our faces. The ocean called me back to this magical place. I like to take advantage of opportunities to be close to its main attraction as often as possible. One of my favourite quotes explains the attraction; “Eternity begins and ends with the ocean’s tides.” Spending time near the ocean, even in winter, soothes the soul and puts things in perspective. It is a stark contrast with the hubbub of shopping centres and traffic jams at this time of year. Whatever your Holiday Wish, I do hope it comes true for you. n

It feels like a miracle. So many people have reached out to connect. I am so grateful for all of the lovely comments on the Facebook page, the notes on LinkedIn and the comments on WordPress. I am overwhelmed by the response, and I would like to thank all of you. People from every aspect of my former lives are represented in the comments I have read. Halifax, St Albert, Grande Cache and Calgary are all represented. Colleagues and friends from teaching, mediating, curling, tap dancing, family, clients, coworkers, and bosses are all in the mix. I am humbled and grateful. Thank you. That question … the one that starts with "If a miracle happened, how would you know?" … is a question I learned in the 90s and one that has stayed with me. I don’t often ask myself that question. I do not remember ever asking myself that specific one. It seems that Christmas is a good time of year to ask it. What would a miracle look like for me in this 60-10th year of life? A comfortable life? Check. A wonderful, loving partner? Check. A family who are happy and healthy and who make me very proud? Check. A project to work on? Check. Friends and family to play games, to laugh and tell stories with? Check. Someone to read my blogs. CHECK. Life can be difficult. It can be therapeutic to consider how it could be better. What are the measures of wellness and happiness for you in your life? What is your miracle? Draw that picture and then ask yourself how you can get one step closer to that miracle. Check for evidence of the miracle. Make a list and check it twice. I have heard that others do that this time of year. (wink) (old school emoji) (smile) Life is good. What is your miracle? How will you know it has happened?

 

I promised to talk about “The Subtle Art…” by Mark Manson.  I do recommend it and I think what I got out of it is that positives can be negative if they make you feel ‘less than’ and negatives can be positive if they help you accept situations you find yourself in. I hope that makes sense. In a way, it is a lot like Brene Brown’s book ‘Daring Greatly’. Be vulnerable translated to “Don’t give a bleep” what everyone else thinks. Expectations are the key.  Keep them real.  You can actually avoid disappointment and celebrate when things are beyond your expectations if you expect to be normal or average.

I am struggling a little with that.  Accepting that pigeon poop on your balcony is inevitable when you live in a high rise is difficult.  Dust and noise from construction when they are re-flashing the entire exterior of the building this summer and they started with your side, is inevitable.  Being asked to use as little water as possible for 24 hours when the pipe burst under the sidewalk and the city has to come and excavate. Taking a drive in your newly acquired vehicle to Peggy’s Cove to find the restaurant mysteriously has lost power. Having to cancel my first road trip in my new-to-me vehicle, a trip to visit relatives “up the Valley,” because of the FOG.  All of these things generate disappointment for me.  And these are just what has happened in the last few days….

And the underlying threat of COVID 19 continues…

I am kind of worn out.

There are good things happening.  My girls (and their families, when they are available) connect with me on Fridays.  I had lunch with one of my LOVE cousins, reconnecting after decades. That was awesome. I have a walking and Enneagram buddy next door.  I was certified by IEQ9 to do Coaching using their Questionnaire.  I have been working towards that since last September. My car is great and does give me more freedom to escape and go to the grocery store and the liquor store on my own. I finally got to Canadian Tire and bought a steamer to steam my very creased curtains.  Last curling season’s playoffs have finally been announced.  I am working toward getting back to Alberta for that later in September. I walked down to the Northwest Arm this morning and put my hand in the ocean water. I have three golf dates with friends coming up. I joined a writing group that meets Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for 30 minutes for the next 6 weeks.

And I am actually working on THE BOOK.

Take chances.  Dare greatly. Don’t give too many Bleeps.  Thank you to Brene and Mark and all of the otherwise and wonderful people in my life. It would be so easy to NOT but I choose venture so that I can gain.

Take care everyone.