Western Promises.

I haven't felt this way in a long time. The tugging at heartstrings, the extra space in my chest, like a vacuum ready to be filled by something great. Something powerful. I am more alert, expectant even. My eyes are clear. I am ready for it. Ready for something more.

This itch, the instinctive need to migrate, to find adventure tends to flow every 4 months or so. I have become adept and hiding the signs, to those around me and my self. Sometimes it shows up in a need to move locations, literally to migrate to some where else. Often it culminates in the end of a relationship, to the detriment of both parties initially but often this gut feeling is indicative that I needed something more, something else. I used to feel it so deeply I never stayed in the same place, same job, same relationship for, what seemed like seconds, longer than that third of a year. 

To me it can be described in two words. Drive. West.

When asked what 'fills me up', what saturates me in the essence of what ever it is that keeps me going? I can always find assurance that I will find it West. It looks like mountain peaks, protective and unruly. It looks like pacific ocean, deep and full of the mysteries of the past. It looks like the forests tall and wise and a sign of a slower moving grace. There are times when the hunt for these things is a hunger, a running to. More often it is a running away, it sure is easy to gain speed out here on the prairies. Last night, as I drove home from the mall at an ungodly hour not too far from midnight, it became increasingly difficult to resist the pull. The deep seeded trust that there is something more. The urge to take Highway 1 West, instead of Bowness Rd East. I am excited. I feel change in the wind, in every breath.

Shut Your Eyes and Think of Somewhere, Somewhere Cold and Caked in Snow.

Yesterday I was driving home after another VERY long day at the "office". I rounded the exit from Memorial onto Crowchild and was blown away with a phenomenon that only seems to happen when our days are the shortest, nights are longest, darkest.  In the mountains they call it Alpenglow, to urbanites it is the golden light which makes the core of our city look like something far greater than steel, concrete and glass, mostly designed somewhere in the middle of the last century. Our winters can be long, cold, grey. Don't get me wrong, we are lucky compared to places where it is longer, colder and greyer but still, this is the time of the year it can be a little bit harder to get through the day with a smile, maybe simply because the days are all a little shorter. This glow was a reminder to me that there is always a little light, always something remarkable even in the time of year Canadians just tend to "get through". This view of my downtown almost brought me to tears. Something so simple as the way the winter light hit the glass that stuck in my brain. The saying, we've all heard probably too many times,  that every cloud has its silver lining. The "Urban" Glow was that silver lining to what is a bit of a tough go lately.

My biggest lesson from this is taking the opportunity to notice my surroundings, take stock of what inspires me. The simpler the better.

The Way You Move Ain't Fair.

We speak so much to the law of attraction at work. Pump the energy and it will bring people into our space. Have great people working for us, more great people will work for us. Lately I have been using this idea of like attracts like to play small. I visualize the parking spot I want and poof! It's mine! Today, after losing the ring my grandmother gave me when I was 16 I imagined it in the palm of my hand and when I went to change into my softest of cotton t's to sleep in I magically felt the ring slip from between my shoulder blades where it had been held by tank top all day and fall through my hair into my hands. Coincidently or not the right people have been coming into my life these days. I need them now. The perspective they have provided. The tools they let me use. It's truly incredible. I have been taking chances, subtle though they may seem to others, and it has been paying off. I am still exhausted. Still unable to do most of what I would like to at the end of the day but I feel like I am on the up swing. I am getting what I need to be myself. So, I need to play big. Attract the things into my life that are truly big. And to be honest, this should be easier than the enormous tangibility of finding a solid piece of silver, or of fitting my loving jay and his volvo x-country sized trunk into an icy mall parking lot on a weekend afternoon. The big things I want are simply the energy to get through a whole day without napping and including a trip to the gym.  I want the motivation to spend time with friends. I want to want to go for long walks and capture the icy winter light with my lens. I want to be fun  again. I WILL be all these things. I will attract them into my life.

It's amazing what a little positive self talk and perspective can do for a girl!

Heart Skipped A Beat. Part 2.

We get asked the question of what do we want to be when we grow up from an impossibly young age. When we are really little our answers are usually extraordinary. I want to be a blue boat. I want to be a princess. I want to go to space. I want to make delicious gluten free desserts (ok, maybe not). The older we get the more expectations tend to be put on us. Go to a good school, get good grades, go to a good university, graduate with a decent ( or better) GPA, become a doctor, lawyer, business person. Become an accountant. Set your goals so you can do all these things then perhaps marry another doctor, lawyer, business person. If your lucky, marry an accountant. Better yet, a civil servant. They have amazing pensions. Buy a house with 3 bedrooms for your 2 kids and get a hypo-allergetic dog. And this is OK. This is great. IF and only IF this is what truly makes  you happy. This is what truly lights you up.

I had never really heard of following my bliss until I spent 200 hours with a tried and true blissologist. I had always felt uncomfortable and un motivated by expectations I didn't place on myself (but allowed to perpetuate by goal setting). I had always put off this lifestyle saying " oh i will go back to school after taking a year off", "I will be a lawyer but first I just want to try a few things on". Previously people had started to help me open up to the idea that there was more than just one way of doing things. One night we were sitting around the blissology table talking about 'what lights us up'. i was frantic with worry that I didn't have a 'good one'. People were passionate about a lot of things but I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure what really got me fired up. It came to me as a sudden winter storm on the ocean. I was truly living in the moment, truly inspired and happiest when I had a camera in my hands or I was inspiring others. These things got me talking with my hands, a sure sign that I am more excited than I can even let on through tone and facial expression. The more we talked about our bliss the more I could see people's true purpose in life. I could see what they were truly meant to do here.

To further my study of following my bliss I picked up a copy of Joseph Campbell's Power of Myth. He, as someone truly living bliss, or doing what he was meant to do, puts it all into perspective. His teachings put into perspective and added a level of academia to the discussion.

At the end of the day living a life following ones bliss is meaningful, it's powerful, it's FUN. And when all our goals align with our passion then... well then we almost have it figured out. Don't you think?

I bet this mighty river's both my saviour and my sin.

I dream of ski bindings.

The feeling of my toe solidly in place and the resistance on my heel until... it just clicks. Visually the image runs through my brain daily, or even twice, from June until late October. I can see it happen like an out of body experience, I can hear it... that heavy click that connects boot to binding, like the subtle mechanics of the shutter of my camera, the tool of the artist in place. I can feel it. I feel it in every part of my body like the muscles, tendons and bones of my legs, back, shoulders, they were born to step into bindings. Weird I know.

In late October I start to dream of it. In November the muscle memory floods my conscious and sub conscious. If I haven't stepped in by December I go into overload. This simple action breathes meaning, passion, purpose into my life.

Today was my day. I pulled my boots on like I had taken them off days before, perhaps after dropping into something ballsy then eating shit at Kicking Horse. I felt energy for the first time in weeks. Like some one had plugged me in after letting the battery run too low. I finished kitting up and finally went to step in, the moment I clearly had been waiting for all season. Low and behold, the spots for my boots to click into were flipper sized. If you know anything about me you may know my nick name is little foot. It speaks to my hoof sized feet. Clearly the handsome and witty boys at Ski Cellar had cleaned my bindings but had neglected to put them back where they needed to be. Sadly in that moment there was not boot to binding love for me.

Fortunately it was a stunning day and being the overly solution focused person I am went to get them adjusted at the rental shop.
There are three things, other than boot size, that someone adjusting bindings needs to know.
1) how much I weigh
2) how tall I am
3) how well I ski.
Without even a moments hesitation I let my ego step right up. I lied about all three. Now, a word of warning when it comes to lying about things that affect how your skis pop off when they need to PLEASE don't exaggerate your lie or you WILL get hurt. eff. So, back to the story, without a moments hesitation I told the very nice and reasonably handsome boy that I weighed 5 pounds less than I do in reality, I mentioned I was half an inch taller (really!! WHO CARES!) and told him I was a pretty good skier. I think he sensed I was full of shit and asked if I felt comfortable on any of the black runs here at Nakiska. Realizing he was about to give me a lighter din setting that was probably necessary for what I intended to ski this season I replied that I was very comfortable on the double blacks at Kicking Horse, within reason of course. The funniest thing about this whole situation was the acknowledgement that my ego is always there, even when I don't need to be, even when it makes NO SENSE. It was such a poignant moment. There is always work to be done on this.

Needless to say I eventually got up. Into my bindings and out on to the hill. I know this is what makes me happy. It lights me up. I was born to do it. And with my quads burning with the build up of lactic acid from under use this past month I swore to squats and stair-master at the gym this week. Slowly building up so i will progress this year. The only words to describe the singing in my heart. The peace in my mind are: I fucking love skiing.

You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream.

Big goals are scary. Sometimes I like to set goals that to me seem unattainable because part of me seems to be certain I will never achieve them. It seems like an easy way to get out of it, impossibly lofty goals don't really have to be reached. No matter how many people are on the team getting there. Today, well today was different. We got there. We didn't really know it had even happened until it hit us like a transport truck on a slick highway (holy metaphors batman). One minute our freezing feet were heading to my frosty car, post race of course, and suddenly we were jumping up and down laughing almost to the point of joyous tears in the parking lot. It happened. That goal we set out in July happened. The goal that was so big I tried, impossibly hard, to give up countless times. It kept drawing us in like moths to a flame, like deer to a salt lick, like me to the Ship on a friday night. The unbelievable thing was it just kept snowballing. One thing lead to another and I found myself tearing up, while I watched the team we has so lovingly picked and developed doing exactly what we had picked them and developed them to do. I am sure I have no idea what real parents feel like when their children do amazing things like walk their first steps or go on their first dates with handsome young men but today, tonight, I couldn't have been more proud of our team, where we came from and where we are now.

Soberly, I know we have work to do. I know we are not perfect. There will be more slogging, constant diligence to creating greatness but even if it was just for 10 hours or so, we know it is there. We can do it again and again and then this is what will be mediocre and greatness will be something more.

I am in love. I am truly blessed by the people in my life. Today, in its entirety, is the reason it never let me give up.

You are the best thing that's ever been mine.

Sweet sweet day. There is often a point where something shifts in me. Like the flick of a switch and suddenly like flood lights coming on over a dark field, everything is bright as day. These are the moments that I know I will reach what I have set out for myself. The rare flittering glimpses at a flowing clarity. Often I find I think too hard. Try to get the right answers to come at the right times. or at least I think their right. I want them to be so. Something about today just clicked. The words, the ideas, the lofty strategies seemed to flow through me and for that. For that I am so grateful.

To be honest, the two things holding me back are my frustrating health and my photos. I want both to be vivacious, electric, driving what I do daily. I have taken the first step to getting health back. I filled out 10 (what seemed to be 10 thousand) pages of medical history before I am off the the naturopath tomorrow and hopefully she will give me some insight into what ever is holding me back. My photography on the other hand... I know I need to dedicate more time but i am just so darn excited about all the other wonderful projects that I can't seem to wrap my mind around sitting behind a screen for long periods of time editing tiny works of art.

sigh. Such a full day. Such a long day.