Some days this is exactly how I feel about God

She rushed to him. She felt her heart would burst if she lost a moment. And the next thing she knew was that she was kissing him and putting her arms as far round his neck as she could and burying her face in the beautiful rich silkiness of his mane.

“Aslan, Aslan. Dear Aslan,” sobbed Lucy. “At last.”

The great beast rolled over on his side so that Lucy fell, half sitting and half lying between his front paws. He bent forward and just touched her nose with his tongue. His warm breath came all round her. She gazed up into the large wise face.

“Welcome, child,” he said.

“Aslan,” said Lucy, “you’re bigger.”

“That is because you are older, little one,” answered he.

“Not because you are?”

“I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”

(Excerpt from C.S. Lewis’ Prince Caspian)

Big-Ass Goals

(I have to admit I giggled as I messed around with the hyphen placement in the title of this post.)

Tomorrow, my friend Zahida will be completing her first marathon. She’s been blogging about her journey along the way, and it’s been interesting to follow along and witness her ups and downs (and all the insights in between) as she trains her body and her mind for this significant experience. I can’t wait to celebrate her when she finishes this first, but probably not last, 26.2 mile race!

There’s so much about her journey that I can relate to and/or admire. Not because I’m a runner. I am NOT a runner, and I have no desire to be a runner. It’s in the grander scheme of things that Zahida’s experiences have shed some really valuable light on what it means to go after the BAGs in our lives. That’s right:

The BIG-ASS GOALS^TM.

I’m sure people out there have written tomes on the marathon as a metaphor or allusion for BAGs: it’s about commitment, it’s about focus, it’s about transparency, it’s about disappointment, and it’s about faith in an end result that you can’t see but you trust will be there eventually. But I think it’s something else that has been so impressive to me about Zahida’s journey.

When you set out to do something like this, sure, you’ve got the goal in mind (well, hopefully!). You may even plan out every step you’re going to take to get there, talk to people who’ve run those 26.2 miles before, find other resources for support and encouragement. You may budget for the time and the gear it’s going to take to achieve the goal.

And then you set out.

Awesome, right?

But the thing is, you’re working really hard towards something that’s far away, all the while assuming you’re still going to want it when you get there.

What if Zahida had just flat out changed her mind and decided she didn’t want to run a marathon anymore? And should that “what if” be enough to stop her from going after it?

I think this last piece is what I myself struggle with the most when it comes to BAGs (or even signing a three-year contract with a wireless provider). I’m ok with committing to things, but only if I know I want them. What if I say I want to be an astronaut and save up for Astronaut School and then commit to five years there, only to realize halfway through—or worse, after I’ve graduated with my astronaut license!!—that I don’t want to be an astronaut after all?

What then? What about the wasted time, the wasted energy, the wasted money?

I have to be honest, I’ve discovered recently that this is something that significantly hinders me when it comes to going after the things I want.

If Zahida had decided a month ago that she didn’t feel like running after all, would it really have been a waste of her time and energy? Clearly not. She has changed in profound ways. Her body is at its fittest, her mind at its strongest, her confidence is at its highest, and she has learned a lot about who her true friends are (and just how much we love her/how awesome we are hehehe).

I don’t think I understand how good it can be for us as people to go after BAGs, even if we end up pulling a 180 or going down a different path altogether. The opportunities to grow and be refined are there either way.

Of course, I’m off my face with pride that in a few short hours, Zahida will be achieving the goal she set out to achieve—and that she still totally wants it. But either way she would have been a better version of herself, simply for the journey.

I have awesome friends (or, how I ended up with TWO Jeans Day buttons)

I’ve hurt my knee. Well, maybe it’s more accurate to say I’ve hurt my knee again. Old football injury*.

Anyway, my knee needs some work and physio is expensive. I know, I know, first world problems, but there’s a point to this story and I’m getting there. I’m budgeting like crazy to make it work because I’m rather fond of my knee, despite how sassy it can be.

So a few days ago, it was Jeans Day, in support of BC Children’s Hospital Foundation, and many of my friends and co-workers participate annually.

A colleague asked me if I’d be wearing my jeans and I kind of laughed and said I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to afford it this year (I’m looking at YOU, knee). Later, I ended up having a similar conversation with a friend as we were firming up plans for the evening.

Well, wouldn’t you know, my friend showed up at my place a few hours later with a hot pink button! SCORE. What a sweetheart.

Flash forward to the next morning and I arrived at work to find ANOTHER hot pink Jeans Day button waiting for me! This one was a gift from my lovely colleague.

Now, at the end of the day, I probably would have found the $5 to buy a button–and I’m doing the ChildRun in June so I promise I haven’t completely forgotten about the incredible work that goes on at BC Children’s Hospital and Sunny Hill Health Centre for Children. But these were ‘wow’ moments for me. How blessed am I to have these women–and so many other fab folks–in my life? Answer: very.

For some reason, lately I’ve been in a period of reflecting on my relationships, and I often just sit back and say to myself, ‘wow, I’ve got some pretty amazing people in my corner!’ And now I’ve got the buttons to prove it!

Sidebar: I know that Jeans Day is supposed to be about the kids, but see, I’ve managed to make this about me, which is rather clever, don’t you think?

*Just kidding. It was from all the cheerleading**.

**That one’s actually true.

It’s the vibe of the thing.

Or, A self-confessed bandwagoner weighs in.

A little background: My twin brother, Patrick, is brilliant. He says all sorts of smart things and he’s usually right about them, too. He can get a little sassy sometimes, but that’s a story for another day.

So anyway, the other day, Patrick tweets:

I don’t understand why some people are so vehemently opposed to the hockey buzz in the city. It’s a cultural experience & celebration.

“YES!” I shout. Or at least I would be shouting if I wasn’t lying in bed wrapped up in my blanket, with one eye cracked half open as I read my Twitter feed and try to convince myself that it’s totally cool, even wise to stay in bed for another 15 minutes.

But the sentiment is there. And telepathically I am shouting and telepathically Patrick knows because we are twins and we share that power.

I don’t understand how you can live in this city and not feel alive and exited and proud! Sure, I can see people not being particularly interested in hockey during the regular season [raises hand nervously]. Here’s a confession: I didn’t even know until about three weeks ago that there were different lines. I thought there were like, five star players and a whole bunch of backups. What can I say? I’m a football fan.

But I digress.

I can see people not being diehard hockey fans, and I can even see people being said that their favourite team didn’t make it. But to be “vehemently opposed” – and indeed some people in this city are – to the vibe in Vancouver, to the snazzy sense of community it’s creating, just because it has to do with the success of the Canucks? That I do not get.

I always smile at people, but now people are smiling back!

I always start conversations during awkward, silent elevator rides, but now people are engaging me, rather than getting off three floors early just to escape.

But this story is my fave, and I think it perfectly illustrates my point.

Last night, I’m at the gym at my office building and not Downtown freaking out with everyone else in Vancouver, because, well, I haven’t been very nice to my body these last few years, and it needs the exercise more than it needs to be Downtown. I’m the only one in there, literally, so I have the game on both TVs and I’ve just finished running on the treadmill, so I’m looking really hot. And not the rawr kind of hot, the gross, sweaty kind of hot.

The dude who sings the Star Spangled Banner is wrapping up the song and I’m finishing some shoulder thingies* and a guy who works in the building comes in to grab his biking gear. He kind of hums along to “and the hooooooooooooome of the braaaaaaave”.

ME: We might as well stay standing, it’s O Canada time.

HIM: I’ll sing if you sing.

So there we are, side by side by the shoulder thingie machine. He’s in his work clothes and I’m disgusting and sweaty, and we’re singing our national anthem together.

That never would have happened under other circumstances and it’s because something very cool is happening in the city right now. How can you vehemently oppose that?

 

*that’s the technical name of the exercise.

 

Office banter

Her: …it was such a vivid dream that I actually think it happened… I feel like maybe I actually went back to 1970s Prince George.

Me: Well, have you been messing with the time machine I built for Angela?

Her: That’s gotta be it.

Me: I’m jealous of your dreams… I rarely remember my dreams, and when I do it’s usually about something lame, like getting a text message.  I’d love to know what my brain thinks about when I’m not forcing it into social norms.

Him: Maybe it’s because you don’t really live by social norms when you’re awake…

Me: What are you trying to say???????

Him: You’ve spent the whole week looking for a kidnapped snowman.

Me: Touché.

Karl’s coming home!!!!!

The people who are helping Karl (for now I am convinced that he truly was on a quest to find his brain) are getting sneakier and sneakier… I’m convinced a good portion of the office is in cahoots, because I was only gone from my desk for TEN MINUTES and when I returned, there was another letter from Karl!

And his hat has been replaced!!!! The one that I Vicki broke was smashed to smithereens, so maybe the Wizard really did give him a new one!  You’ll note in his last letter that his English has improved considerably:

(Click the image to see it full-size)

Apparently he’s coming back this afternoon… his friends will have to help him, and I need to know who’s behind this!

Needless to say I’m NOT leaving my desk–even if I have to pee the seat–until Karl’s back!

Karl’s been kidnapped… or has he??????

BREAKING NEWS!!!!!

I just returned from lunch to find this note and picture on my desk!!!!

(Click the picture to enlarge so you can read the note)

Karl’s been kidnapped… Part III

I circulated this Missing Snowman poster around the office to see if I could get any leads.

Karl’s been kidnapped… Part II

OK, so there are new developments in the kidnapping case.  I arrived this morning to find a letter taped to my monitor, supposedly from Karl.  I don’t know, it seems awfully fishy to me.

I supposed I should provide some background information. Karl is my snowman mug, a festive little chap that used to have a wee matching hat to keep my beverages warm and his brain intact. Then, one day, Vicki pushed me*, causing Karl’s hat to fall and shatter into many pieces, and subsequently, leave his brain exposed to the elements at all times. Whoever these bad, bad people are, they’re trying to convince me that my brain-damaged snowman is looking for some alleged “wizard”.  I don’t buy it. I don’t buy it at all.

Read on.

Dear Mummi

Pleze don’t worry about me no more. I mebered that I wasn’t kidnapped but went with my new friendz to find a brain for me. My frendz say they are tired of telling me stuff all the time and if I could remember a few things they will still be my frendz. I pasted the note together to give us time to get away. Sorri

My frendz are real nice to me, they say stuff like don’t stand so close to the fire you idiot (what’s an idiot?) Or don’t pull your stiksz out of your body like that, itz creepy. Sumtimez my frendz say go stand in the meadow, but I don’t know what a meadow is so I go stand in the road and they start yelling, that’s not a meadow that’s a street.

So mumm I really need a brain, I need to learn this stuff and be smart like my frenz are.

One night when you left me in the cupboard I sneeked out and went on the computer and lerned about a scarecrow that needed a brain. This guy followed a yellow brick road and asked a wizard to give him a brain. Imagine mumm, what it would be like to have a brain. I  can’t imagine cause I don’t have a brain.

Anyway, I going to find the yellow brick road and get myself a brain before I looze my frendz. I will return once the wizard gives me a brain.

Oh, tell the duck I’m sorry about the tape and all…. what a bill that guy has, just quack quack quack all day long. Maybe I’ll ask the wizard for some superglue for him. I’ll write soon don’t worry Mummi.

XXooXoXXXXXooOOOOOXXXXXXXXXoxox

Karl, your son, or your snowson, Oh I get so mixed up.

*Vicki didn’t actually push me, but I am trying to see how long it takes me before I’m convinced that’s the way it went down. I predict 23 more days.

Karl’s been kidnapped…

Today at work someone (possibly a few someones) stole my snowman, Karl, left me this ransom note, and then used duct tape to silence the only eyewitness, Joteesha (Sunny’s duck, pictured below).

I’m not quite sure how to proceed… the note is quite clear that I’m not to go to the police, but it doesn’t say if they want me to leave them money in a duffel bag, or meet them at a specific location, or even that Karl is still ok…

Did anybody see anything?????????