Jim and I really like to entertain and host visitors.  Last summer, our house became home base for two weddings and we found ourselves with a check-in system that rivaled a popular hotel!  We loved it.  I like to plan menus ahead of time and we love to think of local attractions and activities that we can do with our guests to help them have a good time.  By the end of the summer, we were tired but had great memories.

You can imagine my surprise then, when last week, I not only had an unexpected guest (although they have been here before), but a rather unwelcome one.  As I mentioned in a previous blog, I had been line dancing during the Calgary Stampede and apparently, I had found the outer limits of the number of hours I can dance injury free.  I was sitting, nicely icing my knee, when my visitor arrived.  He had barely got himself in the door with his very tattered suitcase when he started asking questions about my knee.  This part would have been fine except for what followed; a barrage of unwelcome comments and advice.  And just so you know, this guy has never danced a step in his life.

In a very short space of time, he plopped himself down into a comfortable chair across from me and managed to remind me that I had been foolish to think that I could keep up with this busy calendar of dancing.  He mentioned that my previous long distance running had also likely contributed to this.  He reminded me that I have already had one knee surgery; ‘Looks like another will be in the cards for you.’, he casually mentioned.  He followed that with, ‘If only you’d not said yes to every performance and taken a few days off you’d likely have been fine’.  And then, my favourite, ‘What did you expect….at your age?’

Meet my Saboteur.  Again.

As a coach, I have this misguided belief that because I know about the Saboteur, or Inner Critic, I will be immune to him.  I have studied his ways, I understand how he can worm his way into a mind, and I even attended a course about him last week.  Now I’m left humbly admitting, he is simply a part of my life.

This is the biggest new learning I had during a course I took last week’s course by Tara Mohr.  Our Inner Critic is a part of our life.  But he does not have to run our life.

Tara talked about something we all have called the Safety Instinct.  In days gone by, this helped us to get away from physical danger.  It clearly had a great purpose.  In more modern times, it continues to help us to dodge danger, but these days the danger it is most interested in is emotional danger.  If this Inner Critic, or Saboteur, notices that we are about to engage in an activity where we could experience hurt, fear, disappointment, discouragement or failure (to mention a few), he jumps right in and says WHATEVER HE NEEDS TO SAY, TO GET US TO STOP.  He will stop at nothing.  And to make it worse, since he knows us so well, he uses the very things that he knows are emotionally vulnerable points for us.

For me, vulnerable points would be the ‘Who do you think you are?’ or ‘What makes you so special?’ or ‘You can’t expect to keep doing everything you’ve always done now that you’re older’.  When I let the saboteur drive, I agree with him.  He is right.  I am older.  What does make me think that I deserve to do this activity that brings me nothing but joy? If I wasn’t dancing the days away I could be advancing my business.  I could be dotting more i’s and crossing more t’s and making sure that every little detail of my neat, organized life was still intact.  If I did this, my saboteur could simply relax and have a nap.  It is only when I threaten to make a change, to go for a new dream or take on a new challenge that he perceives a threat to the status quo and starts up his chatter.

Tara taught us that trying to banish this voice does not work.  This is a voice that lives in us.  It is a part of us and will always be a part of us.  The amount of space that we allow it to take up is up to us.  Last week, I gave my saboteur free reign.  He was with me on the couch, in the car, at physio, in bed and even in the shower.  He was relentless. 

A new technique I have learned is, to approach him with love and acceptance instead of trying to get rid of him.  I’ve learned to ask him what he is trying to protect me from.  In this case, his answer was that he was trying to protect me from being physically hurt, which stops me from working out which takes away a stress reliever (notice how he plays on a value here) and he was also trying to protect me from being embarrassed when I have to admit that line dancing caused my injury.  Not rock climbing.  Not marathon running.  Line dancing. (Notice his voice of judgement in these last three short partial sentences).

Once I can understand where he is coming from I can respond to him by letting him know that I appreciate his concern, and that although it could be true that some of this could happen, I have thought it through and I think “I’ve got this one”. 
To further help me I called upon my Inner Wisdom, or my Future Self, or my Inner Mentor.  She doesn’t have the rude habits of the saboteur; jumping in uninvited with advice, making definitive proclamations, interrupting my thinking and demanding my attention.

She is calm and loving and wise.  She is gentle and only gives her opinion when I ask.  She reminds me of exactly who I can be when I am brave enough to be my true self.  She is who I am trying to grow into becoming.  The best question I can ask her is, ‘What choice do I make now to become closer to who I am trying to become?’

Once I had my loving talk with my Saboteur, I asked him to have a comfortable seat on the back deck.  I got him a nice cold drink to keep him comfortable.  (Since he is going to be a permanent part of my life, I don’t want to tick him off!) I came back in the house and had a visit with my Inner Mentor.  She reminded me that the best thing I can do right now is to access the proper help for my knee -someone who understands what my goals are and will help me get there.  She also reminded me that ‘This too shall pass.’  And finally, she reminded me that rest is just as important for the body as is activity.  She is right of course.  Since then, I have been back to my excellent physiotherapist, and resting.   I’ve remembered that this little blip gives me a little time to be creative.  My mind is pleasantly planning my webinar for the fall.  The topic?  The Saboteur of course!  And if you happen to drive by our house you may hear me singing and strumming a few new tunes I am learning on my ukulele!
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This past weekend brought to a close the 105th Calgary Stampede along with all it’s western traditions and events.  For my part, over the course of Stampede week, my fourteen dance performances with the Chinook Country Dancers, starting with the Parade and ending at Rope Square, were apparently just a bit too much for my knee and so on Sunday evening I found myself on the couch, leg elevated, ice pack applied, ibuprofen consumed and remote control in hand.

This year, I hadn’t had much of a chance to watch the rodeo or the chuckwagon races throughout the week, so I decided to tune into the final broadcast of the chuckwagon races.  Jim and I began to follow the Stampede Chuckwagon races when we first moved west to Calgary.  Before then, I had only read about them in books and in the newspaper but I had never seen them live.  Once we lived in the west, it became part of our annual tradition to attend each year that we could and to follow them on television at other times.  Many a ‘big bet’ has been wagered in the Critchley living room as the heats were shown on television. 

The Calgary Stampede is home to the most famous chuckwagon races in the world.  I believe that they were first run in 1923.  While Chuckwagon races stir up controversy in some circles, over the years I have continued to be a supporter.  Both Jim and I have been lucky enough to meet some ‘real’ cowboys and outriders over the years and we have come to understand the love and passion they bring to their work with horses and to their careers.

In Chuckwagon racing, a team of horses, led by a driver, pulls a chuckwagon around a track.  Ian Tyson, the songwriter, once referred to the track in Calgary as the ‘half mile of hell’.  Each race usually involves four teams (one driver, four horses, one chuckwagon and four outriders).   When the teams hear the blast of a horn and the famous announcement, ‘And they’re offfffff!’, the outriders ‘break camp’ by tossing tent poles and a ‘camp stove’ into the back of the wagon.  They then mount their horses and race to follow their wagon.  The driver drives the wagon at breakneck speed in a figure eight pattern around two barrels before heading onto the track where he tries to take the inside lane as he races toward the finish.  The first team to the finish line is most often the winner, although various time penalties can also be handed out for things like overturned barrels, stoves not loaded, wagon interference or outriders not being close enough to the wagon at the finish line.  Watching it live is heart stopping.

Over the years we have become very familiar with some of the big names in racing.  As I tuned in to watch on Sunday night, I realized that I would be watching the very famous Kelly Sutherland make his last trip around the Calgary track as a chuckwagon driver.  His is a very familiar name in racing and I often tried to be the first to shout out his name in our living room, thus locking in my ‘bet’ on him.  In rodeo circles, Kelly Sutherland is known as ‘The King’.  This year’s appearance in the Calgary Stampede Chuckwagon races marked his fiftieth performance in the Chuckwagon Races; four times as an outrider and forty-six times as a driver.  It also marked his final performance in Calgary.  

Of course, a fairy tale ending would have been perfect to see, but as it turned out, Kelly Sutherland did not qualify for the ‘big money’ heat on Sunday.  He did however, manage to give the fans an incredibly exciting performance in his heat as he came from behind and won at the wire.  The fans went wild and this certainly would have been a fitting ending.  But watching him masterfully turn his wagon around, come back toward the finish, feather in his hat, thumbs up toward the fans, and tears in his eyes turned out to be the show stopper.  As he slowed his team, a reporter hopped on board for an interview.  Kelly, a tough, seasoned, cowboy, cried as he told the reporter how much he would miss this part of his life.  He said that this was a very difficult goodbye for him.  As he stopped his wagon, outrider after outrider, one strong man after another, approached him and hugged him.  The dry dust of the track got quite a watering from all the tears that were shed.

As I sat on my couch, tears streaming down my face, I found myself thinking about why this final race had such an effect on this man, on his colleagues and on all the fans. I realized that when we are lucky enough in life to do something that we love, it is going to hurt when we stop doing it.  Kelly Sutherland has said that he learned long ago that by showing his emotions to the fans, he was able to connect with them.  Most fans of Chuckwagon races will never even get into a chuckwagon.  But all people know what it is to find a passion and it is in this understanding that we feel connected to this man.  Not all of us are as brave as Kelly Sutherland.  Yes, he was a brave cowboy, but more than that, he was brave enough to fully embrace his passion, even knowing that someday he would bid it farewell.

As I have travelled through my life, when I have found myself mourning the ending of some event, some job, some holiday, some opportunity, some life, I have reminded myself how lucky I have been to have been a part of it.  I am so lucky to have allowed myself to care so much about something that it hurts to say goodbye to it.  The older I get, and the more I understand how quickly things pass us by, I try to approach things that I love in this way; with every bit of passion I can.  I have already been lucky enough to sob when our children left home, to weep when we left our beloved acreage, to cry when I knew my competitive running days were done and to deeply mourn the end of my teaching career.   I want to be lucky enough to continue to end more parts of my life with tears streaming down my face. 

Thank you, Kelly Sutherland, for years of entertainment, for years of sharing your passion and mostly for showing us how to ride gracefully right through the hurt.
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My brother was telling me about a bike ride and visit he had with his friend, Anita who was staying in Canmore, for a few days.  Anita was visiting her brother and sister-in-law, Leanne, who is an artist.  Leanne showed my brother some art work that she did.  She told him about a project she had been involved with; a mosaic, made from tiny, tiny tiles, all put together to form a full picture.  Anita and Leanne were telling my brother about the artist in St. Albert, Lewis Lavoie, who is the inventor of the unique Mural Mosaic concept of uniting hundreds of artists together through their artwork into one unified image.

Leanne had been invited by Lewis Lavoie, to be one of the artists who created the mural for the Canada Games 2013.  This mural is now on permanent display in Sherbrooke, Quebec.  Leanne chose Anita as her inspiration for the tile that she painted for this mural.  The big mural is a picture of a hurdler.  The small piece that Leanne contributed is a picture of Anita crossing the finish line in the Ironman race.  Leanne explained that unless you looked at that very small part of the piece, located on the hurdlers right leg, you would never notice that it was Anita crossing the finish line.  The closer you look at the whole mural, the more you see that each tiny tile is a complete picture on it’s own, and that the artist had put the tiles together in a way that created the hurdler.  My brother saw the mural online and said it was simply amazing to see how the individual little pieces all came together to create a large scene.

We talked about the skill and foresight it must take for an artist to have a big vision of a scene and then to be able to create it out of smaller pieces made by other people.  Leanne explained many artists had been a part of this mural.  Each had been given a range of colours to choose from for their piece.  Lewis Lavoie did not micro-manage their artistry; rather he provided them with colour and with the theme of the piece and left the particulars to them.  She also said that there were certain key, tiles that he did by himself, and that of course he had the vision of the piece in his mind and so he had an idea of where each artist’s contribution would best fit.

Since my brother told me about this I have been thinking about the idea of mosaics and how they can be a metaphor for our lives.  Each piece of our life story can be thought of as part of the mosaic.  The huge ‘side-of-a-building’ sized finished project can be thought of as the whole picture of our life.  Each mini tile can be thought of as a day, or even as moment. 
I was thinking about a mother or a father and about the influence that they have on their child.  If I picture a child’s face as the large mural, I can imagine each small tile to be a picture of the parents on many different days, and I can picture how those parents’ actions help shape the final picture.

I can picture this same thing for a student in school.  The final picture might be of a diploma or of the child on graduation day; the diploma or graduate might be made of tile after tile illustrating the many, many tiny actions that were involved in creating the final picture.

This concept can be used with any part of our lives.  No part is created out of one single thing.  Each of our lives has had many contributing artists involved in it’s creation.

This kind of mural mosaic art can be looked at from two perspectives.  The first way to look at it is starting with the big picture.  When looked at it this way, you see what the artist wanted to capture.  You see the big picture; the wide view; the finished product.  From this perspective, the finished product is clear and the small imperfections are not important.  Looking at the whole scene, the details are a bit blurry and it appears that no single tiny square could make or break the beauty or depth of the big picture.  This gives me some relief when I think about life this way; in the big picture way.  It gives me permission to be less than perfect every single day. 

The other way to look at it is to start with the tiny square tiles.  Each of these, when zoomed in on, is a piece of art unto itself.  Each of these adds to the beauty of the piece.  From this perspective, I am inspired. If this is to be my moment that will be captured to be a part of something bigger, I want to have contributed my best.  I am guessing that when Anita ran her Ironman, she had no idea that this image would be captured in her sister-in-law’s mind and used as part of a huge, inspirational piece of art.  I’ll bet she’s incredibly proud that she gave her best effort.  Reading the write up that Leanne wrote to describe the piece, it is obvious that Anita has had many inspirational moments in her life.

As you head into this next week, you have the chance to create a tile or two.  You have the chance to be part of many people’s ‘big picture’.  My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What tile am I inspiring?’
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Link to Lewis Lavoie     http://www.muralmosaic.com/index.html
Big mural http://www.muralmosaic.com/sports.html
Anita’s tile  http://www.muralmosaic.com/sports/panels/197.html

On Canada Day, I knew I was going to have a very full day performing with my dance group.  We had three performances scheduled, starting at nine in the morning and finishing at six in the evening.  Jim came to all of them and by the end of the day we were both feeling tired, and soaking wet since it poured during the last show!  We went home, got dried off, had supper and by nine o’clock Jim was saying that he thought we should head back downtown to see the fireworks.  I didn’t have a strong feeling about it one way or the other but he reminded me that this Canada 150 celebration would only happen once and that we shouldn’t miss it …. so off to the train we went to go downtown. 

The fireworks were scheduled to start at eleven, and we arrived about thirty minutes before then.  We came across thousands of people sitting on the hillside and on steps around a pond in a park and we decided that we would join them for the show.  The actual site of the launch was on the next street but it seemed as if we would be able to see from this vantage point. 

We were unable to get seating on the steps so we found a spot on the flat area just below the steps, up against a fence.  We had a half-hour to watch the people and get ready.  As more and more people arrived, the sitting area got more and more crowded.  People squeezed in everywhere and eventually every single space of ground was taken up with people sitting, including the aisles.  That meant that no one could get past without asking, ‘Could we please just sneak down in between you two?’

We were rather enjoying watching the different personalities at work.  The ‘sitting’ people in the area we were observing lost their good humour fairly quickly.  As people would ask to get by, they pretended not to hear, they sighed heavily, they protested, and eventually several of them said that, ‘No, we cannot move any more.  We are not moving.’  Because I was not the one trying to get past, it seemed rather humorous.

After several people had attempted to pass and had been rejected or scorned, we assumed that the attempts would end.  But before long, a young guy, who may or may not have had a few drinks, and his friends, arrived and wanted to get down the hill, through the cranky people.  He politely asked if he could squeeze through and one woman sharply told him, ‘No.  We are done moving.  We can’t move.’  His response made my night!

He could have become mad, he could have caused a scene, he could have barged through, he could have done any number of things.  However, his response was brilliant.  He put a big huge smile on his face and said in an incredibly pleasant, and appropriately loud voice, ‘Now I know you can move and I know you can help us to get down there.  And do you know how I know this?  Because we are Canadians!  And that’s what we do!  We all work together to help each other!  So, I know we can do this if we all work together.  Let’s all of us Canadians work together to make this happen!’

By this time, people who were sitting nearby were starting to smile and chuckle.  Even the crankiest lady of all, the one who had said she could not move one more time, was softening.  Before we knew it, she was moving over making way for this young guy to pass by.  He and his nine friends had a lovely wide path open for them as they walked down through the crowd.  Once at the bottom they turned to say thank you.  By then, everyone was smiling and laughing and feeling good.

This got me thinking about the diverse ways that we handle uncomfortable situations.  As I stood there thinking about it, the fireworks began.  We could hear the first sounds and the whole crowd turned to see them.  All the people who had been seated on the steps and who had been so determined not to budge turned too.  And then a collective, ‘Oh no’ could be heard.  And then laughing.  From the vantage point of these people, no fireworks could be seen.  The trees blocked everything except the glow of light.  Within minutes, all the people who could not move, thousands of them, had cleared out; no doubt hoping to find someone who would let them squeeze in so that they could see!

I’ve been thinking about this ever since.  Not about the fireworks.  I hear those were incredible!  But rather about the ways that these different people handled uncomfortable situations.  I’ve been thinking about which kind of person I would rather work with.  Would I rather work with someone who is ‘right’, who knows what they stand for, who is not afraid to stick to their guns and who will not be talked into change their thinking?  Or would I rather work with, ‘guy who may or may not have had a few drinks’; someone who sees that a situation could get ugly and who finds a creative way to solve it, leaving everyone’s dignity in tact, and even leaving them feeling happy and proud that they were part of the solution?

I’ve been thinking about which of these people I am most like.  I hate to say it but I think I have been like both.  I have had times when I have stubbornly taken a position and stuck to it even though it was not the best path to a mutually satisfying solution.  Other times I have been able to be more creative (and pleasant).  Looking back, the times when I have been stubborn, even when they have ended in a ‘win’ for me, have not felt good.  The fleeting win never left me feeling like a winner.

If I had the choice, I would choose to have ‘guy who may or may not have had a few drinks’ on my team.  I’d love to work with someone who had the ability to think on his feet and to come up with a winning solution that improved the feeling of the whole team.

This week, you will no doubt be faced with a frustrating or challenging situation.  My inquiry for you is, ‘Is this the win I am looking for?’
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Happy Canada 150!  Jim and I have just returned from an incredible month travelling to the eastern most provinces of our great country, and then making a stop in central Canada on our way home.

We had decided that this, the year when Canada would celebrate 150 years as a country, that we would spend our holiday time to see as much of this great land as we could.

On our trip, we watched the sun rise at Cape Spear, the eastern most tip of land in Canada.  We drove the Cabot Trail, visited Peggy’s Cove, and drove across the Confederation Bridge to visit Anne at Green Gables.  We walked on the ocean floor among the Hopewell Rocks and marvelled at the majesty of the icebergs near Bonavista.  We visited with Canadians from our past and with people who have more recently been introduced into our lives.

Slowing down to do some hiking and biking as we went allowed us to see things we couldn’t have seen from the car.  Since we were hiking on some unfamiliar trails, we made sure we took note of landmarks so that we could find our way back to where we had started.  Things can look different when you turn around and it’s easy to lose your way.  As we adopted this practice of looking back, I began to think of the importance of doing this in our daily lives.  This trip was kind of a metaphor for that.  We designed it to remind us of our history; to do that we needed to look back.

In life, we can get so caught up in setting goals and moving forward that we can lose sight of where we have come from.  When we forget where we have come from, it is hard to find our way home.

I was lucky on this trip; I got to stop and visit Uncle Roy and Aunt Muriel.  Uncle Roy is my Dad’s brother and this special Aunt and Uncle are my only living relatives of their generation.  Their ‘kids’, my cousins, were an influential part of my childhood; we spent our summer holiday with them on their dairy farm in New Brunswick.  Time spent with them as a child was magical and this trip was no different.  While Jim spent time watching with fascination the workings of the new milking robots in my cousin Terry’s dairy barn, I had time to think about the great roots that had been planted for me with this family.  Whenever my ‘determination’ surfaces these days, I am reminded that this is the ‘McCullum’ coming out in me!  It was so good to be with family and to feel like I was home.

In the same way, we stopped and had meals with both of our new in-law families.  Matt’s mom and dad welcomed us to their cottage in Nova Scotia and we got to see where home was for Matt.  In Ontario, Cara’s mom and dad welcomed us to their farm for a wonderful visit and we learned more about where home had been for Cara.  Since we have known Matt and Cara we’ve been most up to date with their recent lives and dreams and goals; their moving forward.  It was nice to turn around and appreciate where they came from.

In Ontario, I attended my high school reunion. Except for two people, I had seen no one from that era for four decades!  What a homecoming that was!  It was so special to look back and re-connect with the people who were part of my life as I was becoming myself.  They mirrored for me little pieces of myself that I have forgotten to appreciate. 

When we take even a brief time in our daily lives to turn around and remember where we have come from and what experiences and people have helped shaped us, it gives us a sense of grounding; a sure footedness as we march forward toward new goals, challenges and adventures.

I am guessing that as Canada celebrates 150 years, it is also a very good time for Canadians to look back at the markers and milestones that have led us to the present.  Not all markers in our personal or in our country’s history are good.  But all teach us something.  Some of them remind us of things that we never want to do again and some remind us of things we should do more often.

As I find myself back on the familiar soil of Alberta I feel at home; at home in my house, at home in my country and at home in my heart.  I am grateful to have had this time to turn around and to notice and appreciate where I have come from.

As you move forward in this week of celebration of our Nation, may you too take time to look back and notice the people and places that have guided you safely to the place you call home today.  May you also recognize that as you create new memories with those in your life today, these will serve as markers in years to come as you look back.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘What guidepost am I creating?’
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