A couple of weeks ago I had a good look around the house and decided a few things needed an update or change.  The table lamps we have in our living room would fall into this category.  I visited a reputable home interior website and picked out lamps I thought would look good.  Jim agreed and we ordered them.  We were advised they could take three to four weeks to arrive, so I was delighted on Wednesday when they arrived on my front step less than two weeks after I had placed the order.

When I brought the boxes inside, I was a bit puzzled as to why they might be different sizes but then, as one does in the absence of facts, I made up the story that they had likely put the shades in one box and the two bases in the other.  My success with making up my own facts worked about as well for me as it does for anyone. 

When we opened the larger box, expecting to find the bases, we found instead, four boxes each containing a two-drawer wire mesh storage unit.  Four of them! I was baffled and wondered if I had perhaps ordered them in error.  I couldn’t imagine how I had done this since I hadn’t even browsed past these in my search for lamps.  When we opened the second box, we found one of the chosen lamps.  Unfortunately, it had a damaged lamp shade.  In addition, when we took it into the living room, the base was much greener than the advertised grey.  Disappointed, we got to work repackaging everything to send back. 

I’ve only ever had to return one item that I had previously ordered.  It was an office chair that just didn’t fit me well, and in that case, I was emailed a return label to affix to the package, and my money was returned to the credit card I had used.  I assumed this would be the case with the lamp and non-lamp. 

I went online to my original order and was relieved to see that at least the ordering had been correct on my end.  I had, in fact, ordered two identical lamps.  I clicked through the process to return the items and realized I’d need to do the process twice, since I wasn’t really returning two lamps.  I started with the wire drawer boxes, clicked on ‘wrong item sent’ and then followed the prompt.  I got an immediate response saying my money had been refunded, but to a card I did not recognize!  In addition, there was no label sent to return these drawers. 

Undaunted, I tried to return the second item.  This time the clicking was easy but there was no money refunded nor was there a return shipping label.

Huh.

I looked up the contact number and gave it a try, fully expecting to get a message telling me to call back during business hours and was delighted when a pleasant-sounding woman answered.  She thoughtfully listened, then looked up my order.  She could see one lamp was still en route but could not explain the mystery storage-drawer boxes.  I told her the refund for it had been put on a credit card I don’t own and that I didn’t have a refund label.  I know the refund couldn’t have gone to the person who really did order it because there was no product number on the box that I could use to help her identify the order.  At any rate, at this point I simply wanted to return the items, one that I had not paid for and was not mine, and the other the damaged lamp.

She dealt with the drawers first and told me in cases like this they don’t want the customer to return the items.  She asked me to ‘please dispose of them’.  I had her repeat this several times.  Please dispose of them?  Yes, that was the policy.

Continuing to the lamp, she asked for a picture of the damaged shade.  We re-opened our nicely taped up box, removed the shade, took a picture, and sent it to her.  She could easily see the problem and said the money would be refunded.  I asked if she would send a label so we could return the lamp which, other than the shade, was in perfect condition.  Again, she asked us to ‘please dispose of it’.

I then asked if we could stop the other lamp from arriving since we now knew the colour was wrong and we would just have to send it back. Unfortunately, she said, it had already been processed so it could not be stopped.  It will be delivered in about ten days.  I’m just hoping it too is not damaged or we will be instructed, yet again, to ‘please dispose of it.’

I’m trying to think like this big corporation.  I’m picturing it takes a lot of effort to have an item returned, check it to verify it’s in good condition, and restock in one of many huge warehouses.  I can only guess they don’t think it’s worth the effort.  Literally throwing things away is more efficient.  Try as I might, I can’t square this one with how I operate.  It seems so wrong.

As the week went on, I pondered this, thinking of what else we squander without a thought.  I wasn’t thinking of ‘things’ so much as relationships and opportunities and talents and moments.  We all, every one of us, has passed by the chance to make someone’s day a bit brighter.  I think I’d be right to say many of us have taken at least one relationship for granted and disposed of opportunities to strengthen it.  Each of us has been satisfied with good enough, when in fact we had the capacity for excellence.  I’ll bet almost every one of us has a talent we simply take for granted.  And all of us have likely disposed of a chance to make a memory.

The cost of the things I have been asked to dispose of by this large company is close to $800.  Eight hundred dollars.  Each of those little drawer thingies cost $109.  We looked them up.  I never ever paid for them, nor did I want them.  I’m completely shocked at this.  It feels wrong to be so dismissive.

While I know the price of those material goods, I cannot for the life of me put any price on those other things I’ve been thinking about, the relationships, the talents, the opportunities, and the moments.  I do know three truthful things about them.  First, I have squandered each of them at some time in my life.  Second, no one asked me to dispose of them or squander them. I did it by myself.  And third, these things are far, far more valuable than any lamp or drawer could ever be.  It’s worth some thought.

May we each enter this next month appreciating the value of the priceless parts of our lives.  And may I find a good home for these unneeded items.  I do have a plan.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What do I value?’
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Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching.  She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society.   She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching.  She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups. She has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations and for conducting leadership reviews. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to live your values.

It’s a miracle.  Kaitlyn will have her new sweater before her children head off to university!  I had my doubts for quite some time.  The pattern is absolutely beautiful, but difficult, and I feel like I’ve taken out as many rows as I put in.  Tinking, they call it.  Spelled backward, knit is, fittingly, tink.  Finally, I have stitched the last stitch, blocked the sweater, and once it dries, I’ll deliver it.

When I was at the very last stage, the one where I had to fold the neck in half and sew it in place, I received a message from my cousin, Joan.  Joan is my first cousin and lives in New Brunswick.  We spent our summers together as children and remain connected and close to this day.  Joan messaged to tell me about a project she, her mom, sister and several sisters-in-law and nieces are doing, and she invited me to join. 

They are each going to make a Temperature Blanket in 2022.  I had never heard of this but was intrigued with the thought of a new and, Joan promised, easy, project!  The basic idea of a Temperature Blanket is to crochet or knit a specific number of rows, one or more, on a blanket each day for a full calendar year. The colours used each correspond with the temperature outside.  It seemed like the exact kind of project I was ready for. 

I emailed and texted a few friends I know who might like this project too, and also offered it as a potential project for our little knitting group.  We are a bunch of dancers who have a problem with yarn; it collects in our bins, and we are always looking for ways to use it up.  We make hats and scarves, baby outfits and slippers, blankets, and shawls, all to donate to those who might benefit from our incurable habit.  By the time the sun had set, I’d already picked my yarn, created my temperature gauge, dusted off my 5mm crochet hook, and begun.

As I worked away the first evening, I found myself hoping for some predictable weather.  The twelve colours I had chosen didn’t exactly match, but they followed a nice progression.  I had pictured my winter colours, the blues, becoming lighter as the months unfolded, giving way to the greens of springtime.  If the weather in Calgary would only cooperate, my blanket would be a nicely organized progression of hues.  Alas, this is Calgary, and the weather is not often predictable.  In the first two weeks of this year alone it ranged over 30°C!

The blanket, it turns out, is not only going to be a record of the temperatures of the year, it will also reflect the beauty variety brings to our lives.  My blanket will be dotted with rows of unexpected colour at unexpected times.  No doubt it will be much more interesting than anything I could have planned.

So it is with life.

We try to line it up, create neat compartments, and then pride ourselves with our careful control over our moments, days, weeks, months and even years of our lives.  But as I reflect over my life, some of the most memorable, most satisfying, most interesting, and most wonderful moments have been at times when God has laughed at me, throwing unexpected circumstances my way that I could never have imagined, much less planned.  At those times, I could do nothing but knit with whatever colours I had in my basket.

Even though the blanket I’ve started is called a Temperature Blanket, and even though the colours represent changes in temperatures, as I work away on these easy, early rows, my mind wanders to thinking about what a blanket of this year of my life might look like.  What might it look like if each row represented the temperature of my bravery?  Or kindness?  Or self-acceptance?  Or willingness to fail?  Or adventure?  Or satisfaction?

With the Temperature Blanket, now that I’ve chosen my colours and set the gauge, I have no control over the rest.  If the temperatures are predictable and boring, so too will be my blanket.  If they are variable, so too will be my blanket.  I think I’ve chosen colours pretty enough that either way the result will be good. 

My life, on the other hand is not tied to such a predetermined gauge.  At the end of each day, certainly I will have to use the colour of yarn that represents my day.  But at the beginning of the day, before the dye is cast, I have full control over the colour I’ll pick from my basket to add to the blanket of my life. 

I want to look back on this year and see some vivid colours.  I want to see some that I might never have chosen based on my past experiences.  I want to create a collection of colours that reflects the truest version of myself.  And then, if all goes well, I’d like to add this years blanket to the blanket of my life and give thanks for being able to live a life that offers me choice and the opportunity to grow. 

Whether you knit or crochet, or not, I hope you’ll take some time to envision your 2022 blanket.  May you find the courage to design it exactly as you wish, then have the grace to allow life to add a few sparkly threads of her own.

My inquiry for you this week is, “What colour am I adding to my blanket?”
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Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching.  She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society.   She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching.  She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups. She has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations and for conducting leadership reviews. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to create your best life blanket.

I was listening to the radio last week when I heard part of an interview with the remaining members of Gord Downie’s band, The Tragically Hip.  One of the members recalled an early performance where he described them as being unexpectedly asked to play for longer than they anticipated.  He said, ‘We emptied the cupboard that night.’

I loved this image.  No song was left on the shelf.  Each one was brought out and sung, no doubt with great enthusiasm.  I can imagine them leaving the venue that night buzzing, completely satisfied.

I’ve been trying to think of places and ways in my life where I empty the cupboard.  Places where I end my day, or even part of the day, with complete satisfaction, knowing I did not hold back, not with my relationships, not with my dreams, not with my work, or with my bravery.  Places where I use the resources I have at hand, to create a moment better than expected.  As I considered this idea of emptying the cupboard, and what Olympian effort I might have to make to do this, my week revealed some inspirational and humbling examples for me.

I took Benjamin tobogganing twice this week.  I do realize I may be pushing the edge of the time period of respectability for this activity, but it’s just too much fun to resist. Most times when we go, we have the hill completely to ourselves.  But on Monday, Kaitlyn and I took the boys over in the morning and there was another family, a mom and her kids, there too.  When Jim and I returned on Wednesday with Ben, we met the same family.  This time the mother had her mother and father with them.  Her mom, Grammie, the kids called her, decided to join in the fun.  I could see this was not her normal kind of activity, but I could also see she was fully committed to spending a memory-making day with her grandchildren.  She sped down the hill with her grandson and then she and the three children invented races to compete in.  They invited Ben and I to join in.  We had a wonderful time together, she and I silently acknowledging there could be some muscle pain to pay.

Jim struck up a conversation with the mother and grandfather, all watching as we tried to keep control of our sledding devices.  As we drove home, Jim told me the mom had told him that her mom’s sister, Grammie’s sister, had died that morning.  Grammie was devastated but explained that while she was so sad, she had this day in front of her, and she needed to spend time living.  She wanted to do that with her grandchildren.

Grammie emptied the cupboard on Wednesday morning.

Later the same day as Jim and I drove home having dropped Ben at his house, Jim told me he had talked to one of his clients that afternoon.  This client, who lives in British Columbia, told Jim that his adult daughter called him just before Christmas.  She had come across a young mother and her two children who had been living in a motel since their home had been flooded in the floods of late November.  The mother was out of money and about to be out of a place to live.  The daughter did not know what to do but having heard the story didn’t feel like she wanted to just walk away.  The father, Jim’s client, said, ‘Bring them here.’

And so, she did.  This week the father and daughter, having spent the past month, including Christmas, with the little family, are just finalizing plans to have the mother and her children move into government assisted housing.  The father explained it had been expensive, and challenging, and he was so incredibly glad to have been able to help.  That father emptied his cupboard last month.  I suspect it will sustain him for many Christmases to come.

It turns out I do not need to make an Olympian effort every single minute to find ways to empty the cupboard.  Emptying the cupboard is simply fully engaging in life.  It is using what we have, to create a meaningful life.  It means drawing on our resources, even when they might feel minimal, to create a moment, or hour, or day, or month we can look back on with satisfaction.  Most often, it means making a decision to invest our energy in that which is before us.  Gord Downie and his bandmates no doubt had some misgivings about playing every song they had ever written, but it was all they had, so they did it with delight, digging deep in their cupboard trying to think of every song they knew to share with the audience.  It turns out it was exactly what the audience wanted; for The Hip to give completely of themselves, using the resources and gifts they had.

Most of the cupboard-emptying moments in life do not require exhaustive planning and preparation.  I suspect the expression originates from a time when a homemaker might have had unexpected guests and had to empty the cupboard to create a meal that might feed everyone.  So, while I was overwhelming  myself with thoughts of how to create moments to empty the cupboards of my life, it turns out these moments do not take much planning at all.  They tend to just show up at our door, requiring only that we recognize them, and act upon them.

It is not lost on me that as we empty our cupboards, the result is a filling of ourselves we could not otherwise experience.  It’s not one of those feelings of fullness that is gone in a few hours.  It’s a fullness that lasts forever.
​
My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What cupboard can I empty?’

Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching.  She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society.   She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching.  She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups. She has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations and for conducting leadership reviews. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to empty the cupboard.

Happy New Year!  If you spent the holiday season in Alberta, chances are you were hunkered down indoors.  With temperatures never even coming close to zero, it wasn’t the year to be trying out the new toboggan!

Despite the cold, and the continued impact of the very persistent pandemic, we had a wonderful Christmas.  Greg and Cara spent time with Cara’s family, and Jim and I spent Christmas afternoon and dinner with Kaitlyn and Matt and little Ben and Andy.  How lucky are we to be able to do this!  When both our kids got married, one thing I was thrilled with was how much each of their partners value and love their own family.  Not only do they love their families, they’ve also been willing to share them with us.

Over the years, we’ve become friends with both Cara and Matt’s parents.  Even though we live miles apart, we treasure our time with them, and we appreciate how our family has been enriched by our friendships.  Each year, we exchange little gifts of remembrance.  This year, my favourite gift of all, came from Matt’s dad, Hughie. 

Keeping in mind that I received some lovely gifts, this is a bold statement.  Under my tree I found a new Garmin device that will allow Brenda and I to continue to adventure, now knowing we can send an SOS even if we are out of cell phone range.  I also opened books and kitchen gadgets and hiking accessories.  I have spectacular homemade knit mittens and an ornament.  Despite all these beautiful, thoughtful gifts, Hughie outdid them all.

What was it that could have captured my heart so?

Hughie sent me a book.  Not your average book.  I’m guessing non of the readers of this blog will have heard of it. 
Life’s Too Short to Fold Your Underwear

Yes, that’s it.  Life’s Too Short to Fold Your Underwear.  To make it even more of a treasure, it’s missing the first twenty-six pages.  And it’s a re-gift.  And it’s still my favourite.

Accompanying the book was a letter, in an envelope, that had written on the front, ‘For Elizabeth’s eyes only’.  Of course, I was instantly intrigued!

In the letter, Hughie explained how the book had come into his possession.  A school friend had given it to him some years ago.  Her daughter had removed the first twenty-six pages, having been given permission to use the book for a school project.  Hughie passed it along, ‘in the tradition of sharing what little we have’. 

The book is composed of little stories, each with a bigger meaning than the details themselves, sort of in the fashion of Erma Bombeck or Jack Canfield.  Hughie wrote that he has been reading my blog and he appreciates how I often move the reader from the day-to-day to a metaphor, allowing them to do some thinking and apply it to their own life.  He encouraged me to ‘Keep writing’, signing off, ‘East Coast Hughie’. 

I loved Hughie’s gift right from the start, even before I opened it properly.  Yet I wasn’t completely sure what it was that had me hooked.  As I write this blog today, my thoughts are becoming clearer.  I realize it is not only the most wonderful Life’s Too Short to Fold Your Underwear that I love, it’s the accompanying letter and its contents that I truly treasure. 

Each of us wishes to be seen.  Really seen.  Seen in the way of someone peaking inside us, without judgement, glimpsing some of our more precious dreams, desires, hopes and fears, and holding them tenderly, encouraging us, walking with us, and sometimes even nudging us along.  I feel safe with Hughie Hanson holding my writing in this way.

Truth be told, I’m not the talented writer in our family and as our family has grown, I recognize I’m slipping further down the ranks.  With a daughter, son-in-law, and daughter-in-law, all English majors of one sort or the other, and with Hughie and his lifetime of teaching literature, I, the Mathematics lover, do not pretend to be a writing expert.  But I do love to think, and I love to put my thoughts onto paper, and I hope they speak to someone occasionally.

Hughie’s gift to me, the gift of being seen, is one I hope to pass on in 2022.  May we each see, in this new year, parts of our family and friends, that they treasure and may find hard to easily share.  Then may we champion them with our gentle encouragement and nudges, in the way of Hughie Hanson.

Happy New Year.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘Who do I see’?’ 
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Elizabeth is a certified professional Leadership Coach, and the owner of Critchley Coaching.  She is the founder and president of the Canadian charity, RDL Building Hope Society.   She works with corporations, non-profits and the public sector, providing leadership coaching.  She creates and facilitates custom workshops for all sizes of groups and has expertise in facilitating Strategic Plans for organizations and for conducting leadership reviews. Contact Elizabeth to learn how to see those in your life.