On 01 of 01 2025 at 11:00 pm I staved off the sleepiness that was claiming my eyeballs and my energy by deciding I wanted to spend some time deleting Facebook ‘friends.’ I went at it using the quickest method I had found, to date. The friends who fell came from past networking events, friends … Read more
If we are the average of the 5 people closest to us, I need an upgrade.
This warning that we are the average of the 5 people closest to us is well-known in circles dedicated to helping us find the clues to success in life, work and community.
For me, since I chose to lessen my workload while suffering for a year or more and then waiting for surgery, and then letting it dwindle down to a single contract, ‘my 5’ have now dwindled also.
This year I unexpectedly saved a fortune on new fashion, not because of Black Friday, but because I discovered the nearly new treasures at the back of my closet.
Seems like the holiday season sales started in my neighbourhood a day after Halloween’s sweet treat debauchery ended. All I needed was to replace my pants. The two pairs of pants in rotation for when I left the house for provisions, endured with me through the COVID-19 lockdowns and then hung in, all puns intended, in the year-long wait for hip surgery.
Dateline: Kitsilano and Kerrisdale, Vancouver
I rose for part one of the day at 4:00’ish, made tea, prepped a salad for later and was still around to join at 6 a.m. Zoom meeting for which I had submitted a question. Mine waited between #24 when the Ask Me Anything session stopped with 59 waiting in total for the same 90 minutes with Dr. Tim who came late. He was told 9:30 Eastern time.. but 119 of us showed up at the 6 a.m. LA time and waited until the author of the error logged in.
On Monday, I hoped for a glorious adventure others might have judged as mundane. On my mission, I would have to tolerate possible crowds, fatigue, surprise vertigo and general overall weakness. It would be me, a bus pass, a cellphone back up and the walker with hand brakes and basket I still needed to rely on for walkabouts farther from my home.
Also, the day’s plan had a pick-your-own-path component like in stories where the reader determines the next choice of action and outcome.
It’s a cold day in Vancouver at 8 C and 46 Fahrenheit but it is walkable in sufficient comfort. I venture out with my cotton mock turtleneck, cotton striped hoodie and fleece vest. New wool socks trap the heat I generate in the runners who have just one more season left to them due to rebuilt old orthotics. It radiates upwards under the polyester pants and I ambulate through the streets. The bearable chill and early darkness make space for reflection.
It’s all I can manage for now. Simply writing this confession on the computer screen.
Admitting that for a writer who has written a gazillion words for others in numerous styles and tones of voice, it is anxiety-provoking to write my own life stories.
They are meant to share my experiences, even if they serve as ‘cautionary tales’ that might help others. And, to ‘exorcise’ the stony bits that still manage to gather memory moss, despite the aphorism that promises they won’t if they keep rolling.
Quick. Name a hero, an architect, a legend of the human rights movement. Here’s a hint. He organized the 1963 March on Washington. Bayard Rustin may not instantly come to mind. At The Afro News, forward-thinking publisher, Honore Gbedze and writer, Helena Kaufman knew differently.
This post on Bayard Rustin is a reprint from May 1, 2012. Written by Helena Kaufman and published in The Afro News, Vancouver, Canada. Rustin’s energetic and unique legend of human rights activism had been long ignored. Why? He should have been recognized and not quietly overshadowed by the great names of his time that most media, institutions, and schools celebrate.
It is 64 days to Christmas as I write this late on a Sunday night in the Pacific Northwest. Vancouver, BC to be precise. I begin my anticipatory ruminations of the holiday season ahead, early, in one of the locations where Hallmark shoots the more than 40 Christmas movies it releases each and every year. It’s not Hallmark Media’s fault that I voluntarily dial up one of their movies and torment myself early by reminding myself (I know I am not alone in this) of what lies ahead in holiday land. Nor can I blame the older catalog of films produced under the former Crown Media for showing me the scenes of Christmases past that immerse me in the highs and lows of the holiday season.
This was written in time for the Labour Day weekend. But, maybe you can relate… I didn’t hit send. I didn’t pull the trigger. I didn’t close the loop and publish. I procrastinated. I am a professional writer, a copywriter, a content editor, and a curator of content created by any number of means, including materials provided by clients. So, you see, I am a black belt level, master procrastinator.
I am now going to submit this, just 2 days ahead of the October-long weekend. It will be Canadian Thanksgiving and I can then be free to get up-to-date with my sloth and slow progress to fully delay my next blog.