Since May of 2011 I have been working with
four primary values in mind; health, passion, adventure and authenticity. I’ve managed to fumble my way through
the year with a ton of adventure, I’ve been in the best shape of my life (“been
in”), I have lived with a vision of what provides the wind in my sails and I
have taken off many masks.
Have I mastered what it means to live these
values? No way. But they are going to have to take the back seat for a bit.
I am sitting in Oakville, freshly painted
toenails, bags packed and I will fly back to Mexico early tomorrow
morning. I have been putting off
this post for a week, mostly because I have felt ill-inspired and digging for
words was frustrating when there was so many other things to do on the computer
(look for land, cottages, an apartment in Mexico, watch Youtube videos, edit
photos, Facebook and read news such as who wins this season of the Bachelorette).
It’s that time again.
P
R E S S T O R E S E T
This week I was on my way to meet a friend
for a bike ride. As the 18-wheelers
cruised at my side, I found myself reeling about my goals and what I want this
upcoming year to look like.
I had considered kyboshing (my favourite
word) the ride. But I am so glad I
didn’t. I just wasn't feeling motivated … to do one of the things I love
the most in the whole world, ride my bike. Weird. But like I said, I am so glad I didn’t
kybosh it. While shoulder checking
and hammering down on the pedals, three new values seeped into my head.
Dedication: I will focus on being more dedicated this year, namely to my yoga
practice that has yet to become an honest practice. YET.
Contribution: Because I can.
Inspiration: To be of and to
create.
I look forward to the year ahead. To keeping the wind in my sails and to
honing in on what it is that I really have to offer.
Photo taken from AYP Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/africayogaproject
This is day two on “12 Days of
Gratitude.” Each day I will
highlight one of the many areas in my life where I feel grateful. The list is in no particular
order.
Day 2: June 7, 2012
Today I am very thankful for my
sisters.
There was a time in my life, say 20 years
ago when I never would have imagined the relationship with my sisters as it is
now. Caroline was married with
little Jessica, pregnant with Leah, and Sharon was pregnant with Erica. I lived in on Gladman Avenue in
Newmarket and life was challenging.
My mom worked 18-hour days to keep the roof over our head, but at the
same time was emotionally unstable.
Trevor (my brother) and I did everything we could to aggravate each
other, and I had pressed play on party-mode. I didn’t have close relationships with anyone in my family
at the time. And it didn’t bother
me. I had my friends.
As the years went on, our family drifted
even further apart. Sharon moved
to Meaford, Carol stayed out west.
Dave disappeared for a bit up north, and then my mom and Trevor moved to
the Niagara area. I was out of the
house at 17. This is when I
developed the idea that independent was
strong. Wrong.
I eventually went to university and
finally, left Canada in 1999.
After all, Independent was strong.
I travelled the world for years and kept in
touch with my family, but I missed weddings, birthdays, births, and
deaths. I missed out on
milestones, but worse, I missed out on moments. (This is why I have no problem accepting generous
compensation packages while working over-seas.)
In 2004 my sister Sharon came to visit me
in Colombia. The timing would turn
out to be impeccable considering we had lost our mother the week before. I made a trip home, and Sharon came
back with me for what would be the first jam-packed visit of several.
When I moved to Brasil (with an “s”) it
would be Carol that came to visit first, and then both of them for my wedding
in 2009, and then again for Carnaval in 2011. These visits meant a lot. The amount of bonding that sisters can do in a week is
insurmountable and the timing seems to always be bang-on.
This is who my sisters are to me. Tissue?
Confidence.My
sisters are the people I would tell anything to; and I have. I ask them for advice when I need it
and it comes back filtered, through two sets of eyes. Sharon’s who’s like, “I don’t like the sounds of this. You tell the asshole to ef-off,
Diane.” And Carol’s who is more,
“Mom used to say, ‘never make a decision when you are feeling emotional.’
Diane.”
Sharon = no BS, black and white, say it
like it is, blunt and honest, no beating around the bush
Carol = huge-hearted, emotional, analyser,
compassionate, caregiver
Sharon and Carol are HILARIOUS. If you know them, you know.
Carol’s laugh has given her the name The
California Cackler and Sharon’s interpretation of
Russian/Martha Stewart while cooking or baking will have you in stitches. When I was 5 or 6 years old, I watched
my sister act out a commercial for Devry.
It lasted almost an hour. As
the youngest of the sisters, I often just sit back and observe. I don’t mind taking the back seat when
it’s a comedy show up front.
On strength. Carol has raised her two girls Jessica
and Leah on her own. She’s
provided them with everything they need (along with a hefty dose of humour and
“ignorance”) to succeed in life. I
love watching Carol with my nieces.
It just comes naturally.
Sharon is a force to be recon with. Under her plate-mail exterior (Sharon
doesn’t hug) she’s got a heart of gold.
She would give the shirt off her back to anyone who needed it; though
she has confessed to enjoying the company of animals more than people. You would believe me if you saw her
tend her horses or dogs. I think
she should raise bees.
When Sharon has visited me, she has always
brought a tickle trunk of toys.
She fills one suitcase with goodies and then walks the streets like
Santa Clause, giving toys and smiles to the kids on the street. In situations like these, you can see
people’s hearts in their eyes.
When Carol last came to Brasil, she brought
75-or-so little outfits. She
bought little white t-shirts and bedazzled them with buttons and dinosaur
patches, and then she made little matching shorts to go along. She bagged them and labelled the sizes (in
Portuguese) so that we could give them to the just-the-right kids.
Inspiration.Sharon
and Carol are believers in dreams and are continuously supportive. They constantly encourage me to aim
high and to take risks. They are
my cheer-leaders, cheerer uppers, and when I’m lacking motivation or
inspiration, all I need to touch base.
Throughout the recent years, I have learned
an invaluable lesson. Though
independence is safe, a place where no one can hurt and harm you, it’s not the
most powerful position to take on the world. Inter-dependence however, allows you to take risks, bounce
ideas around like a game of one-on-one, and understand the meaning of 1+1+1 = 5
I am thankful for my sisters, for showing
up BIG, for being themselves, and for being part of this tri-ad I so deeply
cherish.
A while back I had the idea of writing about becoming a product of your environment. I think the idea came from the following quote, "before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, first make sure you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes." ~W. Gibson
This is what the dictionary says:
adaptation [ˌædəpˈteɪʃən ˌædæp-]
n
1. the act or process of adapting or the state of being adapted; adjustment
2. something that is produced by adapting something else
3. something that is changed or modified to suit new conditions or needs
I think it’s definition three that proves this theory … we change depending on our surroundings. That’s it; I am stacking my team.
Try Out List:
Ben Harper
Steven Covey
You’re Not Good Enough Lady
Baron Baptiste
Jim Collins
Confused Girl
Chrissie Wellington
Anxious Girl
Michael Franti
Gandhi
WhackAMole
Ben Harper: Charismatic artist who’s song lyrics inspire me that we can change the world.
Steven Covey: Author of The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. By applying these 7 Habits, you WILL be more successful. I think it’s a proven fact, and if you disagree, I dare you to prove it.
You’re Not Good Enough Lady: She lives in your head. She’s the one that makes you think you are what she says you are. She often appears in the form of an older person who believes to have you pegged. She may or may not have been a former teacher.
Baron Baptiste: Author of Journey into Power. Have you ever met a person that makes you rethink everything? I highly recommend a dose of Baron to anyone and everyone. He’s no superhuman, but a real-live dude that knows what he does, and does what he knows. I love those people.
Jim Collins: Author of Good to Great. I have very little interest in corporate America. Jim Collins writes about the traits that made good companies, great companies. If you take Jims advice and apply it on a micro-level, you too can go from good to great.
Confused Girl: She lives with You’re Not Good Enough Girl. She carries her portable home-made road blocks everywhere she goes and when you are making forward progress she appears with one of her creations. She has the potential to kibosh you’re plans.
Chrissie Wellington: 4 time Ironman World Champion. Chrissie Wellington has a smile on her face all the time. Her enthusiasm for sport combined with her humility and positive attitude are always present.
Anxious Girl: Anxious Girl doesn’t live a real life. She is usually living in the future. She spends her time inventing stories where she is a damsel in distress. In her stories, she faces struggle, she is week and she is very needy. Don’t try talking to Anxious Girl unless you just need to hear yourself speak. She is all about herself.
Michael Franti: He’s a 10.
Gandhi: He led India to independence and was a pioneer of non-violence. He said, "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind." Gandhi was assassinated in 1948.
WhackAMole: WhackAMole is a game. The objective is to bonk little moles on the head with they pop out of their hole. They pop up in an unpredictable pattern, and it’s impossible to get them all. It is proven, that if you suck at WhackAMole that you might experience difficulty in life. The moles represent that little mole in your head that is often called self-doubt. He appears when you least expect it, and unless you whack him (like WhackAMole) he has the potential to stop you from being amazing.
Final Team:
Ben Harper
Steven Covey
You’re Not Good Enough Lady
Baron Baptiste
Jim Collins
Confused Girl
Chrissie Wellington
Anxious Girl
Michael Franti
Gandhi
WhackAMole
Anyone else find that these other four keep on trying out?
My mother had amazing ideas. She had ideas for funny movies, she wrote music and poetry, and she would CREATE the most interesting contraptions. She invented games and was always thinking (and living) outside the box.
She was the kind of person who kept all the milk bags (washed and reused them in interesting ways) and could have created a blanket to warm the whole world with the amount of fabric she kept in her closets. She painted pictures, drew portraits, and she wasn’t afraid to share her ideas, no matter how “out there” they were. (Day 2) In 2002, my mom had an ileostomy to remove parts and pieces of a very invasive ovarian cancer. She decorated her ostomy pouch with colorful fabric so that it was more than just a collection bag. She painted the entire floor of her basement so that it looked like cobblestone, and my mom never stopped marveling at the little things.
Each time I blog, my mind travels to places unplanned. The brain is such a playground!
I remember the way my mom’s eyes lit up when she shared these ideas. Her lips would form the grin of a little girl who had just found a weathered diary in a dated chest. Ideas change the world.
Ideas.
I was reading Journey Into Power (this might be the best $6.20 you ever spend) by Baron Baptiste last night. He passes on an idea his father once shared with him. He suggests that graveyards are the richest places on earth because so many people are buried with their gifts still protected within. More on fear later.
I think one of the coolest places in the universe, is the idea graveyard. It’s the place where ideas aren’t realized, forgotten, or not fully mature and therefore believed to be “not good enough.” They go to the idea graveyard (with all the others) and we might even recognize bits and pieces of this magical place, as some of the ideas are sure to be our own.
Diane Michelle Clement: Guilty (insert sound of gavel here)
Today I was wrapping a gift for a friend in Colombia and I was using a gift bag that had been previously used. I remembered an idea that I had years ago. It was to create a gift bag that was cloth and you could write on certain parts of it with a pen. You would give a gift in it with a little message, and some details about yourself. Everyone would keep doing this, and this little gift bag would travel around (the world and back) lighting up people’s faces. I would like my sisters Caroline and Sharon to start making these bags. They have the skill and creativity.
Yesterday I was full of ideas. They (the ideas) were pretty much dancing a perfect tango in my mind, and I was afraid to go bike/run because I thought I might miss a great breakthrough. None-the-less, I biked through the mountains here in aquaria finding trails and challenging downhills and then I laced up and went for a run. Just as a new idea wedged it’s way onto the dancefloor, I bailed and sprained my ankle.
Isn’t life funny! My mom would have MacGyvered a Velcro icepack to wrap on my ankle. … probably full of beans so that it could be both hot and cold.
My mom's would be floral, maybe even with a pocket on the side, maybe a compression strap around the joint as well.
The point of this entry dear readers, is to encourage you keep your ideas thriving. Write them down, give them to a friend (does idea hoarding exist?) and make them real. After all, our ENTIRE life was/is a culmination of ideas (most of which we can’t take the credit for).
I am all for ideation; the creating of ideas. In fact it is one of my “Strengthsfinder 2.0” strengths. If you need an idea, pick my brain will ya!
Peace,
Diane
Some of my favorite ideas:
1.A maxi-pad strapless bra my sister made me for my wedding day. Can you believe these don’t exist? It’s no secret – boobs sweat!
2.The bicycle
3.The apple cutter (this is Gui's favorite, and I think it's pretty amazing too!)
4.Exploration
5. The General Lee cut out for a "Dukes" party theme
I love these people!
5.That everything is a miracle, or that nothing is a miracle (I am still not sure which one I believe)
“Of course your knee is bothering you, your ankle is locked. Relax your foot completely.” With one precise tug, and an indisputable snap, the bones in my right foot fell into place for the first time in ten years.
I have become a person who is defined by what my body can do. I race a gazillion times a year so that I can compare myself to my last year self, to my ten years ago self, and then, to the other 34 year olds in the world. I compare. I feel great when I crack out a personal best, and I feel lousy when my mind defeats my body. I do not want my physical abilities to define who I am.
This blog is and isn’t about the Ironman. What the hell was I thinking when I signed up? Really? Was I thinking, I want to see what my body is capable of? Or was I thinking, I want to be able to say, “I have done an Ironman.” For those of you who are new to my life and ten year old passion, the Ironman is a triathlon; the swim is 3.8km, bike 180km, and run 42.2km.
This week I have been experiencing a lot of knee pain. I guess you could say it started about three years ago; the same time an old ankle injury started acting up. My knee is getting really tight after I run, and the range of motion is lessening every day. Now, for those of you who know me well, my list of injuries might still come as a surprise.
Broken thumb from falling off chair in 5th grade - 1986
ACL reconstruction left knee – 1993
ACL reconstruction right knee – 1995
Left ankle sprain from falling down stairs in Tokyo while intoxicated – 2000
Right ankle sprain from falling down stairs in Numazu while sober – 2001
Dislocated left elbow from falling off bike – 2004
Slap tear in right shoulder from almost falling off boat – 2006 Broken ring toe from stubbing into a buried shoe while playing frisbee on beach - 2008
Bumps, bruises, scrapes and scars from falling off bike – 1999 – present
Now, here I am, 59 days till the Ironman thinking, what if I can’t do it? These have been my primary thoughts for the past 48 hours. What if I can’t do it? I have thought about what it would feel like to go and watch, cheering on my friends who are also racing. I have thought about what it means to me; about who I am. Today I went to the doctor about my knee. I would be lying if I didn’t confess that a small part of me thought, I hope he says I can’t race it, then I have an out, and the responsibility wont be mine. Weak!
Instead, he said, “Of course your knee is bothering you, your ankle is locked. Relax your foot completely.” With that tug, and clear snap, the bones in my right foot fell into place for the first time in ten years. Then the words I wanted to hear and didn't want to hear all at the same time, “you are going to be just fine.” I guess who I am is entirely up to ME!
What does this race say about me and how am I letting it define me? The Ironman slogan is “Anything is Possible” and I honestly believe that to be true. I have just returned from a Yoga Conference where one person in particular, Paige Elenson, (look for her shortly in my upcoming “Heroes and Sheroes” series) has been brave enough to believe she could change the world.
Will completing this race make me a better person? No. Will it make me stronger? Maybe. Will it allow me to inspire others? I hope so. This is who I want to really be, a person who inspires others.
This race has very little to do with bragging rights. It has everything to do with setting an example and discovering what my potential is, whether it be of finishing in a great time, or more likely, not, it's about who I am as a result.
Ironman says, “Anything is Possible!”
It is possible that I get tired and cramped up
It is possible I don't tired and cramped up
It is possible that I get a flat tire
It is possible I don't get a flat
It is possible that I poop my pants
It is possible I don't poop my pants
It is possible that I injure myself
It is possible I remain injury free
It is possible that I get an ulcer and grey hair from stressing out
It is possible I continue to spice my food with hot sauce and don't go grey (yet)
It is possible that I don’t finish
It is possible (probable in fact) that I do!
What is impossible however is that I don’t try my best, and share the experience; the good, the bad, and the ugly, of what it feels like to face fear and failure in the face; but to do it anyway.
What defines you?
Peace!
Di.
Note - out of all the above scenarios, I would least like to shit myself! I already did that when I was 6 or 7 and have been taking heat from my brothers and sisters ever since!
