You’ll be relieved to know I’ve finally finished my most important knitting projects for Christmas.  I still have a few smaller things to work on, so when the doctor told me I’d have at least another two weeks in this air cast, I soothed my feelings of disappointment knowing there is still work to do!   Not to give the secret of my gifts away, suffice it to say they each have a front, a back and two sleeves and they are now all stitched together and ready to wrap.

I like to wrap my knitted gifts in boxes, partly because it’s easier, partly because I can make nice neat packages and partly because I can add ribbons and bows to make them look pretty.  I also love to write out the label and affix it immediately so there is no mistaking who the gift is intended for.  For years my tendency has been to find a box that matches the gift that will fit inside it.  I like the gift to fit just nicely inside; I don’t want it to be swimming in space, nor do I want to have to sit on the box to get it to close.  Alas, the best laid plans of mice and men….

This year the first wrench in my neatly designed box-wrapping world revealed itself when after digging through our wrapping paper bin, I couldn’t find any box to fit my knitted projects.  And then I remembered that even if I had found just the perfect box, our son-in-law Matt, loves to get a gift where the box in no way matches the gift!  In his family, one of their traditions on Christmas morning is to stump each other by wrapping gifts disguised in crazy boxes having nothing to do with the labeling on the box.  A box showing an ‘in the shell egg scrambler’ might in fact house some blue-tooth headphones!  I think they have as much fun finding the ‘right’ box as they do finding the perfect gift.

My first inclination upon hearing this was to think that this was an odd tradition.  I’d always loved it when the store where I made my purchase would offer me an appropriate box to wrap it in.  It was only out of desperation that I’d need to improvise.  And yet here was an entire family making a game out of improvisation. 

And of course, this got me thinking.

We humans love order.  We find it frustrating when we open a box labelled ‘outdoor lights’ only to discover garland and twinkle lights used for decorating the banister.  Classifying, grouping, finding patterns, ordering and labeling is how our minds make sense out of things.  When we are introduced to a new object or a new concept, or even a new person, our mind quickly goes to work and tries to figure out what neatly labeled box in our mind, this new thing will best fit inside.   It relaxes us once we ‘make sense’ out of something new or foreign.

It’s confusing when we think we have a person figured out; we have them neatly placed in a box and labeled, only to have them reveal a part of themselves that in no way fits our labeling system.  When this happens, our brains go into overdrive trying to reframe their behaviour in a way that allows us to jam them back into the box we created for them, close the lid and reuse our original label. 

It’s even more frightening to think of all the opportunities that have been missed when a person has been labeled at a young age and has never realized they have the power to simply peel the label off and redefine themselves.  Or better yet, to not define themselves at all.

If I had a dime for every student, new to my math classroom, who said, or had their parent say, “Annie’s (choose the name) not good at math”, I’d likely cry over the beautiful gift I could afford to buy myself.  I’d always reply, “Oh!  I’ve never met a student who can’t do math.  I’ll bet you just haven’t found the right classroom yet.  I think you might be in the right place now.  Welcome!’

What a disservice we do to our children when we give them a label at a young age; it’s the same disservice we do to each other when we confidently slap on labels and then refuse to see any new possibilities.  Even seemingly innocent labels are limiting.  Labels like shy, careful, clumsy, athletic, artistic, logical, good, obedient, conservative, stubborn, Conservative, easy-going, liberal, Liberal, tentative, outgoing all force us to be seen in only one dimension.  The truth is each of us has the capacity to demonstrate unlimited dimensions and unlimited possibility. 

In my above description of how I love to wrap using boxes of just the right size, a person who does not know me well might justifiably jump to the conclusion, and label me as an order-freak.  They would not be completely wrong but they would not be right.  I do love order.  I love the sense of calm it brings me.  But there is nothing I love more than to discover a side of someone I thought I had ‘figured out’.  I love to watch people break barriers and stereotypes.  I love to encourage people to hone a skill they had been told they were ‘no good’ at.  This part of disorder, I love. 

Order, like all labels lie on a continuum.  We are not either/or in any facet of our personalities.  On different days, in different seasons, in different circumstances we slide up and down the scale, sometimes becoming more or less of a thing.  When we feel labeled, or boxed in, it is as though we lose our ability to slide, to grow or become something new.
Matt’s family has it just right.  They understand that the labeling on the packaging is not always a good reflection of the interior of a thing.  They keep an open mind to what might be revealed upon closer inspection. They show an amazing, rare sense of curiosity not only when opening gifts but when talking with people.  And this may be the best gift of all.
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My inquiry for you this week is, ‘I wonder what’s inside?’

Elizabeth creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  She provides leadership and personal coaching for individuals and groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you use curiosity rather than labels.

Every once in a while, I am reminded that it is better to listen than to talk.  I’ve learned a few things by talking and many more by listening. 
 
A couple of weeks ago I posted a blog entitled, ‘Halloween: Who Will You Go As?’ You may recall that this blog described how our friend, Kathleen had come to our house for the day while her parents were away attending Glendon’s convocation with his Masters Degree from the Ivey School of Business at the University of Western Ontario. I’ve received a lot of feedback on this particular piece.  One of the responses that touched me was the following one written by Kathleen’s older brother, Glendon.  In his letter to me, Glendon not only tells of his journey from young teenager to present day businessman, he also manages to illustrate what happens when a person chooses to not be led by fear, but rather to choose a meaningful value to lead them.  Despite the competitive business world he has entered, Glendon has chosen to lead with love.  What a message!
 
Please indulge me as I ‘listen’ to Glendon’s words this week rather than ‘talking’.  I invite you, with Glendon’s permission, to join me in enjoying his letter.
 
Dear Mrs. Critchley,
 
Thank you for your generosity in taking Kathleen this past Friday for our family. It was a selfless act in our time of need and it allowed me to spend a weekend capping my academic accomplishments with the people who matter most to me, my parents.
 
The world, and life, seem to be chock full of serendipity and fortunate circumstances that I can't quite explain, your most recent blog post was one such moment, coming on a weekend where I got to celebrate graduation from a school that I would have never gone to had your son, Greg, not had a chat with me two summers ago.
 
I'll always remember his kindness and generosity in showing me around campus and it was one of those things where I immediately felt like I was home.  I think the seeds of my success were planted a very long time ago.
 
The tremendous positive influence you held over the Red Deer Lake community during your years as a teacher was something that absolutely shaped me into the person I am today. I so vividly remember entering Junior High and from the moment I was in Grade 7, I dreamed of being in Class 9A: Mrs. Critchley's home room. Life finds a way, and I'll always look to Grade 9 as a seminal point in my development after what was a rocky and tumultuous year in Grade 8. That was the first time in my life where I felt comfortable and encouraged to "just go as yourself".
 
Throughout my educational career I seemed to stumble out of the blocks and find my stride. High school was like that for me and it wasn’t until I reached Grade 12 that I was once again able to shed trying to "fit in" and was able to "just go as yourself".
 
When University arrived, I made the choice to forge new beginnings and move a province away. That first year away from home was a challenge.  Where my natural academic strength was once sufficient for success, I found myself learning how to study for the first time, while struggling to stay afloat in the sea of independence and temptation. It was a fight I almost lost. I barely scraped by Calculus, and perhaps would not have if Dad had not come to stay with me the weekend prior to my calculus exam. I exited first year, 220 lbs, unhealthy, unhappy, and ready for a change. It's hard to pinpoint exactly what I changed but I managed to shed 30 pounds that summer and 70 pounds total over the next year and a half. With my physical transformation, came a mental one, back to being myself. I was confident in who I was, in the relationships I held and in the impact I could have. I ended my undergraduate career with many friendships I still hold close, and a renewed sense of who I was. Or so I thought.
 
The crushing disappointment of not finding a job was only outweighed by the nagging feeling that I had self sabotaged on purpose. On a long summer drive to visit friends at a South Saskatchewan cabin I had a serious realization about my future. I could have found a cozy production job at an oil and gas company and proceeded to grind the career ladder for the next 30 years. I would be successful at that, I would be a millionaire, I could have a family. And I knew I would be absolutely miserable. A large catalyst for my desire to change was a dear friend who shared with me that summer that she was expecting a baby. A pregnancy she had not wanted at first but grew to accept and by the time she shared with me, a baby she was ready to sacrifice her career and life for, because of love.
 
That made me realize why I desired my change. I wanted love. I wanted to love what I did for work. I wanted to love the path I chose. And above all, I wanted to do what I had done every time I had "just gone as myself", I needed to LOVE ME. It was soon after this that I had my chat with Greg and fell in love with Ivey. I went across the country with a singular mission, a purpose, a fire, and a passion I had never had before; I was going to Ivey, Canada's top business school, ready to conquer the bureaucracy and elitism with love, I was going "just as yourself".
 
From baking for my classmates every Thursday for three straight semesters, to taking a risk I could have never imagined, and running for class president I led with love and continued to reveal myself.  I forged strong relationships with my professors, and even closer ties with every single one of my classmates. I spent my entire time at Ivey, as Glendon William Hass. Not as the Calgary kid. Not as a Chemical Engineer. Not as someone from a middle -class family. Not as someone born with Goldenhar Syndrome. I was myself, Glendon, from day one to the end, and my mission every day from the time I woke up until the time I went to sleep was to make someone’s day better and to empower my classmates to be their best.
 
I believe people truly transform and unlock their potential when they're fully committed to being authentic and true to who they are. Ivey was my test ground in the tough, cold business world of applying my mission of love and care to everything I did. Whether it was recommending job posts, helping with class homework, representing the class on student council, getting to know the personal stories behind the people I saw every day, driving friends to and from parties, participating on intramural sports teams or waiting patiently for a job offer I would love, I did it all "Just As Myself".
 
I can't say the rewards weren't worth it. As I crossed the stage at Western on Friday, I knew my chapter at Ivey had come to a close and I had filled every single page of the book with a story I was proud to tell. My academic success followed and I was overjoyed to see the fruits of my labour, finishing as an Ivey Scholar with the top marks in my stream. I knew the names of every one of my classmates. I found a job that has allowed me further room to continue to grow and "Just Go As Yourself". I owe so much of my success to the unwavering support of my parents. Without their empathy, kindness, but most of all, their love, I would not be half the man I am today. They stuck with me and believed in me when times were tough and when I didn't believe in myself. I love them for that. I love them for being such role models of living lives with love.
 
Thank you, Liz, for being an amazing teacher, neighbor, mentor, and supporter. I know you have played a large role in shaping my story and I find it so apropos that your blog post this week, “Just Go As Yourself" was brought about by your love and kindness towards our family on a weekend that came about because of your family as well.
 
I have a goal to support and influence the ability of millions to be our future leaders. How this dream will come to be is still a bit of a mystery to me, but I'm sure you'll be happy to hear it involves a passion for education and empowering others to do just as I have, and "Go As Yourself"
 
Thank you for everything!
 
Much Love,
Glendon Hass
 
My inquiry for you this week is, ‘With what am I leading?’

Elizabeth creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  She provides leadership and personal coaching for individuals and groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you uncover your ‘Leading Value’.

Some of the ladies of The Cathedral Church of the Redeemer in downtown Calgary have laid a beautiful, hand knit, warm blanket of poppies upon it, marking the one hundredth anniversary of the end of WWI.  One of the parishioners had seen knitted poppies used in this way in a church in England and she thought it might be a project that could be taken on in Calgary.  The response to the project was overwhelming, both in its construction and in how it has been received.  Originally thinking that hundreds of poppies could be knitted by a group of women, the organizers have been overwhelmed to now have over 7000 poppies cascading down the walls of the church, knitted by people of all faiths, from many countries.

This kind and incredibly heart warming, generous gesture leaves me proud to be part of this community of Calgarians and it has me thinking about warm blankets of all sorts.  This is the time of year, the time when the first snow flurries fal,l that we dig out our warm blankets and put them on our beds, on the backs of our favourite chairs and even in our cars – just in case.  There is something about the idea of a warm blanket that lets us know we can make it through the tough winter season. 

I’ve also had a warm blanket kindly laid on me several times when I’ve had to have simple medical procedures completed.  There is something about this act of having a blanket laid on us, that allows us to feel safe, to feel like we will make it to the other side of the discomfort.

Recently, I’ve come to recognize that warm blankets come in all sorts of sizes and shapes.  They are not just the lovely red and black plaid ones we so often see advertised on magazine covers.

On Thursday night, I joined my dancing sisters for their regular Thursday night class.  Lest you are about to think I am breaking doctors’ orders for rest, I did not dance.  Having received the disappointing news last week that my air cast boot would continue to accompany me through the next four weeks, I decided I needed a pick me up in the form of watching a dance class and seeing the fantastic new steps my friends are learning.  Upon arrival I was warmly greeted and soon found myself catching up with ‘the girls’.  As the class was about to begin, one of our dancers, Barb, went to her purse and produced a sign for me to wear around my neck.  I was officially welcomed to the ‘Sideliners’ group.   This has become a loving label given to any of our dancers who have managed to sideline themselves.  Currently in the Thursday night group alone, the sideliners group is at an all time high of four!  This small act was such a wonderful way for each of us who is on the injured list, to continue to feel a part of a group and an activity we miss so very much.  It was as if Barb had gently laid a warm blanket on us, reassuring us that not only would we survive our injuries, but we were being cared for by a loving team.  What a gift!

A second blanket moment occurred at our house a week ago.  My very good friends, Coralie and Warren’s, son, and his wife are expecting their second child in less than a month.  At a time when this young couple should be setting up the crib again, sorting through baby clothes and thinking about names for their new addition, instead they have been regular visitors to the Tom Baker Cancer Centre where Brandon has undergone chemotherapy, after recovering from surgery in April.  Wanting to show them our support, we decided to host a Sprinkle for them; a party to celebrate not only the coming of the new baby but also to let Brandon and Savanah know that they have a whole village behind them as they travel this very tough road. 

Friends arrived with casseroles for their freezer, and diapers and gifts for the baby.  The afternoon was filled with friends reconnecting, and with new memories being made.  Many, many comments were made about how good it felt to be together in support.  Together we placed a warm blanket on this family; a blanket of support and encouragement.  A blanket that let them know they were cared for.  Incredibly, two days before the shower, at his appointment following nine weeks and three rounds of chemotherapy, Brandon’s doctor said the words everyone had prayed for but had been afraid to expect, “Right now, you are cancer free!’  It felt like a miracle.

I wish I could say I coined the phrase ‘warm blanket’.  I did not.  I read it in a beautiful article written about my brother-in-law, Greg, after the passing of his beloved dog Caleb.  In the article, Greg describes how his music community came together to support him.  Greg commented that, ‘This community really knows how to put a warm blanket on’.  I thought it was the most perfect way to capture the feeling of being loved in a time of need.  This article is incredibly moving and well worth the read. 

Since hearing the phrase, ‘put a warm blanket on’, I’ve been thinking about the many, many different ways we can put a blanket on one another as we go about our daily lives.  Not all blankets have to be king-sized.  Sometimes the smallest of blankets can do the trick.  I’m noticing and feeling gratitude for the blankets placed on me recently; blankets in the form of ‘sideliner’ signs, Jan coming over to play cribbage to help me pass the time, Rhonda stopping in for a visit and a ‘knitting lesson’ and Brenda taking me to see a new-to-me wool shop. I love my blanket in the form of Kaitlyn stopping in for little visits with Benjamin.

This weekend we observe Remembrance Day.  This year is especially poignant as we mark a century since the end of WWI.  I hope our veterans will feel the blankets we place on them as we walk among the crosses placed in the Field of Crosses on Memorial Drive in our city, as we stop to admire the knitted poppies draped over the beautiful walls of The Cathedral Church of the Redeemer, as we proudly wear a poppy on our lapel, as we donate to food banks and as we attend services and as we stop for our moment of silence and reflection at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of this eleventh month.  Lest we forget.

My inquiry for you this week is, ‘Who needs my blanket?’

Elizabeth creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  She provides leadership and personal coaching for individuals and groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help you figure out how to give and receive warm blankets.

This past weekend I managed to enjoy hours of World Series Baseball viewing.  Of course, first and foremost I’m a Blue Jays fan.  But my second, and very close other favourite team is the Boston Red Sox.  I’ve been lucky enough to get to watch this team live, sitting in the famous Fenway Park bleachers looking out toward the Green Monster. 

Perhaps I love the Red Sox because I have a very soft spot in my heart for the city of Boston.  I have old pictures of my mother and my grandmother in Boston; I believe they had gone there by train from New Brunswick to do some shopping when my mother was a young woman.  It seemed like such a big adventure for them.  In my own life, the lure of the Boston Marathon captivated me when I began marathon running.  I was lucky enough to participate in that marathon three times and on each trip to the City of Champions, I understood more and more what makes it so special.

As I sat watching and knitting and cheering on Friday evening, as inning nine turned into ten, then eleven, then fifteen and finally eighteen, I became intrigued with the strategies being employed by the coaching staff.  I was especially curious about the maneuvering used with the choices for pitchers.  It dawned on me that the dilemma managers face regarding the pitchers, is very similar to dilemmas we all face regularly in life:  Do we go for the short-term goal of achieving the immediate ‘win’, or do we make strategic moves that will benefit our bigger game?  Or perhaps, is it possible to do both?
On Friday evening, a total of nine pitchers were used by the Sox.  As the evening drew darker, turned to night and eventually turned to the next day, the managers had to be wondering not only how to win the current game (which they did not) and also how to save enough ‘good arms’ for the game scheduled for Saturday, which it already was by the time the ‘Friday’ game finished.  This situation is one we know well.

Often, we find ourselves completely immersed in a scene in our life that completely absorbs our time and focus.  Sometimes this scene is a very short one, perhaps an afternoon, (I just have to get this job done) sometimes it is longer, perhaps a week or more (I just need to get this report submitted by Friday) and sometimes we are engrossed for so long that one season turns into the next (once the merge happens, or once the school year ends…).  No matter the length of the project or passion occupying our time, if we are very lucky or very aware, during the process of this busyness, we take a breath and realize that we may be losing sight of our greater goal as we get caught up in the urgency of what is immediately before us.

This is a real dilemma for anyone passing through this life.  There is always a balancing act required between the important work of getting our tasks and jobs completed, and in honouring our bigger vision.  Successful companies have leaders who take great pride in their daily achievements, but who also regularly remind others and model for them, what is most important in the bigger picture.  Successful people do the same.  They practice excellence in small daily activities, but do not trick themselves into believing that it is the completion of these things that will, in the end, create a happy or successful life.   They learn to look up to make sure the ladder they are climbing is placed on the right wall. 

After the Red Sox loss on Friday night, a Saturday night win seemed even more important.  With so many pitchers needing a day off, I wondered who might be able to get the job done.  I kept thinking, ‘If you don’t get this win, the momentum will have shifted and you may have lost the chance for a Series win’.  I’m sure I wasn’t the only one willing the manager to insert Price into the game toward the end.   I was watching Price warming up in the bull pen and urging him (perhaps out loud) to be played.   I was certain that going for the short-term goal and temporarily setting aside the bigger goal was the right thing to do.  I would have been completely misguided.  This is why I am not paid millions to manage a professional baseball team. 

The powers that be in this game recognized the value of completing the important, urgent task of successfully winning the game, without losing sight of their bigger goal.  On Sunday night, they proved themselves right as Price pitched into the seventh inning, leading them to the Series victory, their second World Series Championship in as many years.
My inquiry for you this week is, ‘Where is my ladder placed?’
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Elizabeth creates and facilitates custom workshops for corporate, public and private groups.  She provides leadership and personal coaching for individuals and groups.  Contact Elizabeth to help make sure you place your ladder on the correct wall.