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.
That’s what it takes to keep me working in my tiny apartment with southern exposure. All day sun and the heat that comes with it. I worried for months in advance due to the memory of previous summers’ heat, acrid air, and pollution. It billowed in from British Columbia’s increasingly dangerous, longer, and life-changing forest fire season. 
Creativity at work begins first with creativity in making my space comfortable. Does my ‘hack’ work?
Of the 70,000 daily thoughts we have and our brains filter, surely a big percentage that we have on permanent repeat are the ideas of new and improved habits. One has found its way through the filter trap to this page. I’m taking a practical route by starting with a physical filter cleaning to get my mind and motivation to resume writing…unstuck.
This is a repost from a 45-day daily personal writing exercise I undertook when I was both invigorated and also challenged by a major home and office move some years ago. Then and now, I still get stalled.. so.. here is the reminder…..
My writing has a program supervising my keystrokes. The installation points out typos and the occasional MIA comma in my public posts installed. And apparently, it also calculates my effectiveness in all my document drafts. It sent me a personalized email today stating this week’s yield:
8818 words written
“Seek community and routine.” This is the calm counsel I got during some challenging times after I moved, alone, to my current stomping grounds – Vancouver, Canada. That advice came from a military member. He was expected to move as seamlessly as possible every few years into a new physical and cultural context. Each move came with a new role, new home, and demands for energy and consistency on tap. He crisscrossed America with his wife, children, cat, and canine in the service of his country more than a dozen times, and counting in his career. As a family, they learned that seeking community and taking solace in familiar routines, was key.
Being less disciplined than my colleague, I’m currently coming up short on community and lagging a bit on the implementation of routine. But, I do have a plan and I’ll share some of the tips.