Julia Child? Maybe Not...

A few weeks ago, I watched the Meryl Streep movie Julie and Julia. I have a secret love/hate relationship with cooking. I love the idea of being able to cook; getting lost in the flavours, the aromas, reveling in the knowledge that I could be a snobbish foodie discussing exotic herbs and spices, hosting formal dinner parties with just the right wine for each course of the meal. But, I hate the idea of not measuring up- perfectionist tendencies kick into high gear when I play the role of chef, and then spiral quickly downward into a pit of despair when my meal is a disastrous flop. And, of course, the easy fall back excuse for many of us- I don't have the time. But, after watching this movie, I was once again inspired by the desire to find another new escape, and one that I could either enjoy in solitude, or share the fruits of with my family and friends.

Briefly, the movie is a parallel between the rise of Julia Child as a chef in the late 1940's, and 'Julie', a struggling writer in 2002. Julie feels as though her life is stuck, and in an effort to complete at least one thing that she starts, she decides to prepare each recipe from Julia Child's cookbook Mastering The Art of French Cooking, all within the time frame of one year. To compound the pressure, she creates an online blog to record her cooking journey, and hopefully, hook some readers into following her bizarre personal quest, which documents not only her kitchen successes and catastrophes, but also exposes her fears and vulnerabilities as a writer, a cook, and a woman. Hence, the immediate connection I felt to the character of 'Julie', and the parallel I drew between her blog and mine. One minor difference- her blog drew thousands of readers, and eventually a book contract. Hmmm, maybe the cooking was the deal maker.

Always on the hunt for my next big inspiration, or even just a hint of one to make a bad day good again, I have decided to borrow Julie's idea in a much more condensed version, and probably, a lot less healthy. I love chocolate, as you all know. And I love to bake. My new goal- create one chocolate recipe each week. I'm not going to limit myself to one particular cook book, to new recipes, to tried and true recipes; the only requirement is that at least one of the ingredients is some form of chocolate (see the new addition to my Blog's sidebar "Chocolate Recipes"). This past Sunday seemed like a perfect day to begin my own bizarre quest. I had the whole day stretched out in front of me with no commitments, no children, and no urgent school work looming. Not being able to use my faithful 'I have no time to cook' excuse, I decided to expand my mission to a full meal. A quick visit to one of my favourite recipe websites "Epicurious" (see my favourite links list), and I had the ingredient list for chicken parmesan with a spicy tomato sauce. Added to my list were a bed of greens sprinkled with a touch of balsamic vinegar, and of course, the necessary items for my Aunt Jean's Mix Easy Cake, which includes a triple layering of chocolate. I felt completely justified in this guilty undertaking, following an 8km run which, unbelievably, energized me for the cooking/baking party that I was hosting for myself. The aroma of the freshly minced garlic, combined with the sizzling of the chopped onion, basil, oregano, marjoram, and hot yellow peppers, all allowed me to begin the gradual process of getting lost in my cooking. As the rest of the ingredients were added to the spicy tomato sauce, the simmering smell filled my home, and I actually felt like a real cook. An hour and a half later, I sat down with my plate decorated with the chicken parmesan layered delicately on my bed of greens, coupled with penne pasta smothered in my hot sauce, all while the smell of my Aunt Jean's cake was wafting from the oven and slowly overtaking the lingering scents of the main course.

Stuffed beyond being able to do up my jeans (if I had been wearing jeans-I was still in my running gear), I forced- ok maybe that word choice is too strong- I persuaded myself to complete the masterpiece of my meal. I expertly timed the icing of the cake. Warm, but not hot, as I smothered my own simple recipe of chocolate icing on top of the cake to ooze slightly into the top layer. If the timing is off by even a few minutes, the icing will either drip and slide to the edges of the pan leaving a bald spot in the middle of the cake, or if it is too cool, the icing covers the cake like a blanket on a baby instead of melting its gooey flavours together into one big chocoate orgasm of flavour.

Content in mind and stomach, I ended my evening with a relaxing cup of green tea, knowing that I was prepared for the barrage of the week ahead. And, once again, the images of that cooking class in the Tuscan Valley of Italy were playing like a friendly old movie in my head.

Bought!!!

Just as the selling of my Seadoo provided me with a sense of relief combined with an exhilarating high of "good riddance", this past Sunday the purchase of my new road bicycle brought the contrasting high of "welcome to my new life". It may seem as though this retail therapy was in reaction to my bad week. I would be lying if I didn't admit that the endorphins were pumping when I sat on my bicycle knowing that it was soon to be at home in my garage. However, this was not an impulse purchase. A combination of the streak of warm weather, the persuasion of "my people", and the chance to add one more chocolate escape to my life led to this decision.

And now, with the addition of more chocolate, the new lingo forced new learning and expanded my vocabulary: "checking the geometry" "105 front derailer and Altegra rear derailer" "mountain set up" "hydration system" "carbon forks and carbon seat post" blah, blah, blah... Although I sounded like I was well-educated, honestly, without the crash course of bike language over the past few weeks, and the instant text messages appearing on my phone, I would have made my bike selection because it was purple. The facade I presented to the salesman evaporated very quickly as he saw me trying to relay his sales pitch via instant message. My cover blown, he patiently dictated and spelled the information for me as I sought the expert opinion of someone who wasn't working for commission.

Once the decision was made, and the pile of bike necessities grew, I was like a kid with my first bicycle. The mood of the cold, rainy weather on Sunday didn't deter me. And even though I wasn't able to take my bike with me that day, my excitement didn't diminish either. It was a day that I needed to do something just for me. I am determined to live by my new plan that I set out in my last post, and the first item on that list is to do something every day just for me. I guess the purchase of the bicycle would be considered one of the more "grandiose" things that I was referring to. But, with this latest acquisition, I will be able to fill many more days with "just for me" bike rides and tours with friends.

Once again I can revisit my "One Year From Now" list, and this time I can check off "buy a bike". And maybe, when I check it again next year, I will be planning my bike tour of Europe...with a stop in Tuscany for that cooking class!

Digging Out From Under a Bad Week

I haven't had a very good week. The reasons behind some of the drama could have been avoided. Some of the confrontations were unnecessary. At one point, I was so frustrated with the lack of control that I felt over what was happening around me, that I turned off my phones, shut down my computer, and I hibernated. I fed my energy with a day of teaching, a hard run with my iPod shuffle on high volume, and a cup of tea. None of these things made the problems go away. But each of these things prodded my thinking, and made me take a baby step forward into taking back the control.

When I first started this blog, I was feeling the high of a woman's workshop that gave each one of us a sense of empowerment. The Perils of Perfectionism allowed me to believe that I could strive for excellence in all that I set my mind to, without the pressure of living up to unrealistic expectations, and without looking behind me to see what others were thinking, saying, and doing. My blog was going to help me focus, to make sure that I kept a healthy balance in my life. But why is it, that with just a few words, some people seem to have the power to make me stray from this path of excellence. Over the past month I have felt the chipping away of my resolve to lead the life that I want. The signs were beginning to show- difficulty sleeping, mood swings, skin break outs, and a feeling of heaviness that I couldn't seem to shake. With each decision that was made for me, with each battle that seemed to arise, and with each push away from what I wanted, I felt myself shut down.

This past week, however, the shut down affected so much of what was good in my life, that I became angry. Angry enough to finally have the courage to stand up for me again. I will not let the influence of people who I have little respect for, people who have no right to impose their manipulation on me, bring me to this mood of helplessness.

So what am I going to do? I can't just rant and rave on my blog about the unfairness of life. That is not me. That is not why I started writing...and it is not productive. We all face unfairness, and we all have our own issues to cope with. I needed to come up with a plan.

* Each day, I will do one thing just for me. This may be as simple as going to a yoga class, sipping on a tea with no interruptions, or writing on my blog (also uninterrupted). Or it could be as grandiose as planning a vacation or indulging in a spa day.

* My home will be welcome to those who treat me with the respect that I know I deserve. If you come into my home and make me feel uncomfortable, make me feel unsafe, or push your unwanted words at me, then you will be asked to leave.

* I will become the friend, partner, and parent that the people in my life deserve to have, when I feel the same sense of worthiness and value coming from them. It is okay to question. It is okay to disagree. But, it is not okay to ridicule, bully, unnecessarily antagonize, or purposely invite confrontation.

* I will not be silent. My doctor once said to me "People will only walk all over you, if you lay down and let them." If there is something that I disagree with, I will voice my opinion. If I have an idea that I want to share, I will not feel intimidated. I will communicate what is important to me.

* My dreams will be shared only with those who are willing to help me achieve them. It takes courage to share your dreams with someone, and it is a privilege to be allowed to become part of the making of those dreams.

* For the people who are fortunate enough to be part of my life, I will help you, I will encourage you, and I will do this with no questions asked.

* I will read; I will write; I will teach; and I will learn. I will remember that these are the things that motivate me and drive my ambition.

Today is a better day. Although I don't want to feed on the negativity through my writing, it is through writing my blog that I let myself know, and I let other women know, that the struggle for balance is ongoing. There are going to be good weeks and bad weeks, and it is important for me to share the bad. It is what makes me human, and makes my writing more real.

Sold!!!

I know it's just a machine. I should not attach any kind of sentiment-positive or negative-to something so materialistic. The very fact that I am writing yet another blog entry about "the seadoo", reinforces my decision to sell it. The very item that caused me so much grief last year on my trek north to the cottage, was already beginning to, once again, weigh heavily on my mind as the warm summer months creep steadily closer. I have learned to listen to that voice inside my head. I have learned to pay attention to that sick knotted feeling in my stomach. I have finally learned that if I want to own any kind of mechanical apparatus, it had better look at home in my kitchen and produce something edible. Even then, success is not guaranteed (hence the dream of learning to cook in Italy).

I was tired of seeing my seadoo taking up precious garage space, and annoyed with parking my one cooperative vehicle so close to the overhead gargage door that I feared the sound of metal on metal each time I closed that door. As a result, I made my annual call to my local Seadoo dealer, determined to rid myself of this nagging machine once and for all. Of course, he didn't put much faith in my determination, as I had made the same call, at the same time of year, for the past three years.

"Are you sure you really want to sell it this year, Joanne?" (disbelief mixed with just a pinch of annoyance)

"I'm sure. I want that thing out of my garage. I don't want to have to think about it or fix it. I want it gone." (said with much conviction, but like I said, he had heard it all before).

True to his job though, he did put the word out, and called me each time with the offers, until one finally came through that I was not going to pass. As much as I wanted my nemesis gone from my life, I had done my homework, researched the going prices, and I knew that the time of year was in my favour.

This past Sunday, as my Seadoo dealer man backed his pick up truck into my driveway, hooked up my seadoo, and then drove off, an incredible feeling of lightness settled inside me. It was more than ridding myself of the stress of maintaining another vehicle. It was more than having my garage back. It was a purging of the last materialistic item that I had brought with me from my married life. A feeling of calm acceptance, and giddy freedom filled me. I felt like dancing, and I felt like singing- very loudly.

Over-analyzing? Perhaps, but as a close friend of mine recently pointed out to me, I seem to have the capability (or maybe the curse) of philosophizing about such mundane things as my laundry. So I guess the farewell of a reminder of who I once was, compared to the person I feel like I am growing into, should be worthy of a few minutes of celebration, and of course, analysis.

Today's Mantra

Two Definitions of "Strong"

"Having force of character, will, morality, or intelligence: a strong personality."

"Not easily upset; resistant to harmful or unpleasant influences: strong nerves; a strong stomach."

This post may seem vague, and a little unusual. But, it was a necessary mantra for me this morning. I would rather have the preceding definitions of "strong" on the front page of my day today, than let others take control and weaken my resolve.

Whatever brick wall you are up against, be strong, take action, and take control.

My Vision Board

Four years ago, when the life that I was living at that time seemed unpredictable, and filled with both dread and excitement, I easily fell into the realm of self-reflection. I'm sure that most people who are experiencing life changes would admit to the same philosophical ponderings; consciously or not. My own life analysis was definitely scrutinized with eyes wide open.

Included in the many resources of self understanding was The Secret, the instantaneously popular philosophy that was the answer to our most important life matters; relationships, prosperity, health and overall happiness. An overwhelmingly large part of my psyche at that time was immediately drawn to, what seemed like, the answer to how I could finally get everything I wanted in my life. Simply put, the philosophy focuses on the Law of Attraction as the universal law that shapes what is brought in to our lives. Through our thoughts and feelings, we draw the experiences, the wealth, the relationships into our lives- basically we attract these things. Since then, I have read more about the Law of Attraction. I find the belief fascinating, as well as powerful for me. It gives me a sense of control over what is happening in my life. Maybe it is not just the thoughts and feelings I am having that is creating the life I am living, maybe it is also these same thoughts and feelings that are providing me with the drive and ambition to do something about the things that I don't like. Maybe it is the universe allowing the pieces of my attractions to fall into place. However I interpret it, I'm not going to let this happen without having some awareness and control over what those conscious or unconscious thoughts can drop on my doorstep.

The one thing that repeatedly appears in everything I've ever read about the Law of Attraction, is the making of a personal vision board. Get pictures of the things that you want to attract in your life; cut them out; glue them on a board. In this age of technology, I was too lazy to buy a board, some glue, and then to find pictures that could be cut and pasted on to this board. Instead, I adapted. I made my vision board work for me, so that not only could I easily access my "wish list", but when I did, it was an immediate mood lifter. I created a vision board file on my computer. I scoured the internet for the pictures that provided me with my ambition, then copied them into my Vision Board file. Now, when I need a reminder, or when I want to add, and sometimes delete, items from my board, I open my file, and then set my computer to slide show. I sit back and enjoy the show.

Included in my adaptation of the Vision Board idea, was the making of my "One Year from Now" list. Despite the stories of other people's successes with the Law of Attraction, I still had a hint of skepticism lurking behind my optimism. However, with the creation of my "One Year from Now" list, which I first started almost two years ago, the skepticism has fallen far behind. Every few months I revisit my list. Often there are items on the list that I have completely forgotten. But what is most astounding to me are the number of items on the list that I have accomplished, or that actually became a part of my life. It would be unrealistic to say that every single item became apparent in my life. Instead, what I have noticed is that the items that never did come to pass, were usually items that had no appeal to me anymore. I was no longer attracting those things into my life. Because of these continuous changes, I began to make new lists each time I revisited my "One Year from Now". And each time, I am always in awe of what happens in my life over the course of a few months.

Why do I do it? My vision board, and my lists give me the direction I need. They force me to always be re-evaulating what it is that I want in my life, and how I am going to get there. They make me change directions. They make me take control. They make me responsible.

"...know that you alone control your happiness and it is a choice, no matter what anyone else is doing." from The Secret.

"...and still we rise"

The title for the conference that I attended last week in Toronto came from the title of the poem "Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou. Originally written to portray the message of perseverance shown by African Americans in facing racism, the poem speaks to any person who can dig into their own being to find strength in fighting their own demons.

Still I Rise
by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.


I found the entire poem so powerful that I wanted to share it, and maybe provide some subtle inspiration as it did for me.
Although the theme of the conference (sponsored by the Elementary Teacher's Federation of Ontario) was "Working Together to Create Healthy Schools and Communities", I'm sure each of the over 400 women who attended would tell you that we came away with so much more than that. Through humour, inspirational and motivational speakers, and elective workshops we learned more than new teaching strategies; we also learned to take a long, hard look at ourselves. Could we laugh at ourselves? Could we look around and not judge the person next to us for not finding the humour in the same jokes that I might? Could we make the necessary shifts in our lives to achieve what we are capable of, and what will make us happy? Could we learn to look after ourselves so that we aren't always at the bottom of our priority list? Could we learn to come together to face the burdens of our profession, but also to unload the weight of our own minds?

There were moments during those two days that I was laughing til my sides hurt...when our first motivational speaker "Linda Edgecombe" shared her story about her lack of knowledge of what "going commando" meant. Apparently she thought that it was the name of the cologne worn by the very attractive man sitting next to her on a four hour flight. He told her he was going commando when she asked him what he had on. Thinking that she might like to buy some of this unheard of cologne for her husband, she leaned over and told him that she just had to get her some of that! Her point...we all have stories that are too real to be made up. To be out their living life means we have new stories to tell. So get out there and start creating new stories.

There were also moments that the tissues were being pulled out of handbags, and tears filled almost every eye...when Sally Armstrong shared her horrific stories about the women of the Congo who had been severely sexually assaulted but still had the courage to band together to create change in their world. Or when the documentary film "The Red Jacket" was shown telling the story of the young man in British Columbia who had been so badly beaten that he was left permanently brain damaged, unable to care for himself and needing 24 hour care, all because he was wearing the colour red in a neighbourhood whose gang colours were blue.

Even more than the camraderie, the sharing of stories and emotions, the luxury of being pampered at The Royal York, and the full schedule of events, this conference once again provided me with another moment in my life to allow my own shift. We all have situations in our lives that seem beyond our control, allowing that feeling of hopelessness to seep back in. But, we also have it in ourselves to create the change, to continue to rise, to live a fulfilled life. If I'm not happy, then it's up to me to start making the changes to be happy. As the title of Linda Edgecombe's book so perfectly stated Shift...or Get Off the Pot.