Today

I looked at Google today and wondered why the special design, and then it dawned on me: Father's Day. It's a day I find myself either hyper aware of, or completely oblivious to. I lost my dad in 1997 - it's hard to believe that over a decade has gone by since that fateful November day. My dad's passing has coloured my life in so many ways. When I was a young kid, my dad was my best pal. We liked to play Trivial Pursuit and had a shared love of dessert. Looking back, my favourite times with my dad were spent eating Black Forest Cake in a patisserie in Kowloon while my mom shopped. As I got older, things got more complicated. I realized that my dad was human. He had been a hero in my eyes for such a long time, that when I saw that he was a mere regular person - and one with many flaws - it was a disappointment. My dad was an alcoholic. He battled depression. And he left my mom and I to be with another woman. He really wasn't the stuff that heroes are made of. My dad was the first man to break my heart. But still, I loved him, because as with all things in life it wasn't black and white. The older I have gotten, the more I believe I understand my dad. I wish that we'd gotten a chance to talk about things more. Instead, there was a vast gulf of silence between us leading up to his death. When I think of my dad, I see him as a regular guy, with flaws. And I miss that guy. While my dad was in no way perfect, he was really smart, and had a great sense of humour. He had a hearty appetite, and a love of food. I know we would have shared some great meals if he was still around. He also always had a lot of love for me. His actions didn't always show it, but as I reflect, I know that he was battling his own demons. So on this day, I band together with the other people in my life who have lost their dads. It's a day to remember.

Wear Sunscreen

I was so taken with this piece of writing when I first discovered it. I revisited today as I was trying to find a wise bit of spiritual advice to write in a card for my niece. I don't know that it's spiritual per se, but I think it hits the mark on the key things to try and remember as we navigate through this life. As I reread the words, I realized that Dakota isn't quite ready for them, but that I could use the reminder. I started to reflect on the part about friends. Certainly, as we get older, there are gaps; we're all in different careers, at different stages in our lives, dealing with different sets of problems. Sometimes, it is challenging to make the time and to bridge the gaps, but it is worth it. To me, my friends are an extension of my family and I am forever grateful for the kindness, generosity of spirit, and the laughs.

Written by Mary Schmich in 1997 and published in the Chicago Tribune, the essay that follows is titled, "Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young".

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

P.S. Write back

I love greeting cards. Ridiculously so. I have a box of cards that I won't send to anyone because I like them too much. I have two other boxes of cards to send to people, in part due to an annual card sale that I attend with a crew of like-minded greeting card lovers. It's a bit of madness that strikes us as we walk through the doors of the Paper E Clips warehouse, and start scavenging for our favourite card lines and styles. I am an absolute sucker for letterpress. One of my fave card lines is Mr. Boddington. These cards are seriously gorgeous! I've also been a long time lover of Koco New York. The quotes on these cards tend to be well-selected, and the accompanying art work, is just that: art. Because I love words, Quotable Cards are also a standout for me. And, for a bit of irreverence: junkmail.

I met three of my favourite girlfriends working at Athena, a store that sold greeting cards, posters and art prints. We bonded over crazy customer experiences (like the kid who started to pee on our carpet), and eventually, the trials and tribulations of our own lives. It's now been more than 15 years since we met, and we're still going strong. All of us continue to have a strong appreciation for cards, formed oh so many years ago as we excitedly opened new shipments. While we've stopped exchanging presents on special occasions, the cards continue to go strong.  And, I don't think I'm the only one who re-reads the messages within.

In a way, I think of a shared love for greeting cards as bringing some people who are very near and dear to my heart into my life as well. The one bright spot at my grandpa's funeral was re-connecting with my cousin (I never get this right, but our grandpas were brothers, and thus our moms are cousins) Trevor and his lovely wife Winnie. As we chatted, I asked them what they did, and it turned out that they were involved in selling and designing greeting cards! I knew we were collectively meant to be. Since that bleak day, we've continued to bond. It turns out our shared love of cards was just the beginning of our similarities. We love shopping marathons, children's books, and eating bacon with maple syrup (that's me and Trev - Win would not partake in such a weird thing). Winnie and Trevor (and their beautiful kids) came into my life during a truly bleak time. My grandpa, who was a truly bright light was gone, but fittingly he brought a younger generation of his family together.

While I can't imagine my life without Google (well, except for the first two decades, which were actually without Google), I sometimes bemoan the fact that e-mail has become the preferred mode of communication. E-mail just doesn't compare to a handwritten note. I for one look forward to checking the mail each day, hoping that amidst the bills, there will be a piece of personal mail.

Beats, Rhymes & Life

This weekend, I checked out Hot Docs, an annual documentary fest in Toronto. I love docs, and have seen some good ones over the years. About a month ago, when Hot Docs released their line up, I was beyond excited to hear that they were screening Beats, Rhymes & Life: The Travels of A Tribe Called Quest. Those who know me are painfully aware of my affinity for Tribe (I say painfully, because chances are they've been forced to witness me rapping along to Scenario, and while I may know the words, my rhyming skills are questionable at best).

I heard A Tribe Called Quest for the first time when I was in high school, and the love affair began. Q-Tip's smooth voice, easily one of the most recognizable and unique, coupled with concious lyrics and a jazzy sound are just a few of the reasons that Tribe has so many devoted fans. They are innovators. Pioneers.

In university, I made friends with someone just because he was wearing a Tribe t-shirt. To this day, we continue to bond over hip hop. This documentary is definitely worth seeing. It sheds light on the trials an tribulations of Q-Tip and Phife, yes. But more importantly, it celebrates the music and the people behind it.  Good on Michael Rapaport for making this doc happen.

So, here's the thing about anxiety

Last night, for the first time in years, I had one of *those* anxiety attacks. This is the kind of attack that puts terror into your heart. As much rational talking to myself as I did, I couldn't find calm. I tried distraction. I tried telling myself I was okay. None of it worked. I just lay there, paralyzed with fear. Of course, today is a new day. The exhaustion has set in, and the fear has subsided, for the most part. But, as is par for the course with any bad anxiety attack, the self-doubt is creeping in. The 'what ifs?' are forming in my mind. Will this happen again? Is all of the progress I've made for naught? Is this a major set back? I like to think that I can learn from the past, and treat this as a minor blip, rather than letting the fears take grip.

this one is for you

A couple of weeks ago, I had the good fortune to attend a poetry reading featuring Elana Wolff, who is both brilliant and generous. I've know Elana for many years, and am grateful that our paths continue to cross. At this reading I was introduced to the genius of Evalyn Parry, a Toronto-based poet and performer. Evalyn is a force to be reckoned with. The first poem that she shared really resonated with me. I felt it in a very visceral way, and it has stayed with me. I felt I had to share it. 

this one is for

the non-conformers and the system buckers
it’s for the girly men and the lady truckers
the organic farmers, the local food growers
the old-school, mechanical, push lawn mowers
the two wheel riders, the trouble makers
the public-transportation-takers

it’s for the girls who cut their hair, and the ladies who refuse to shave
it’s for everyone who has ever been brave
it’s for the time you didn’t behave

it’s for those who remain hopeful when hope seems lost
it’s for my first year women studies prof
hell, all my patient first year professors, my true hearts,
my midnight confessors, for all the dressers
I’ve ever found at the curbside
and all the things that have saved my backside

it’s for the Michigan Womyn’s Festival founding foremothers
my tranny sisters and brothers
the straight-but-not-narrow
all my ex-lovers
the crunchy granola hippies who dance
aviators, horse back riders, gals who wore pants
before pants were something a proper lady should wear
it’s for the bleeding hearts, and the ones who care
and the ones that march and the ones that fight
the people who bother to write
a letter to the editor, who stand up to their managers
the union organizers, the city counsellors
it’s for everyone that dares and everyone that speaks
for those who listen, for those who can’t sleep
and those who can’t rest
for those who are trying their best
for the freaks and the punks, the misfits and the nerds
for everyone who ever contributed words
and meanings
to the Oxford English Dictionary
for those who know they will never marry
for the rebels and the genderqueers and polyamorous
for my grade 11 boyfriend who drove a VW bus
for the outlaws, and the in-laws who got over their misgivings
and attended their first same sex wedding
for everything with wings

it’s for the radical thinkers and the babies in incubators
for second-chancers, and the morris dancers
for those whom, given the choice, always chose “other”
it’s for Stephen Lewis and all the grandmothers
for the fearful who took to the streets anyway
for the artists who keep going even though it might never pay
for those who light the way
for those who made it through another day without a drink
for all those who think
for anyone who chooses to get things done
for the catholic priests who are handing out condoms
for the improvisers, and the bathhouse raid committee organizers
and the war tax resisters and the brave fighters
for those who go to serve in anyway they can
for the ones who were shot down and for those ran
for those who defied their orders, for the doctors without borders
the single mothers, the sperm donors and the Henry Morgentalers
the crisis phone line callers
for those who refuse to give up and refuse to give in
who won’t shut up
who know it’s not about whether you win
or you lose
but about the scope of your dream and your right to chose
an opinion and your right to change your mind
for those who are kind
it’s for those who hold fast
and for those who are outcast
or downcast, for those who can’t move very fast
for the flags at half mast
for the tired organizers and the ones who outlast
and all those who have already past
this one is for you

this one is for you

this one is for you

to

wield.

These are a few of my favourite things...

I love to bake. I find it really soothing, and enjoyable. As much as I love to eat (and believe you me, I love to eat), I really enjoy baking for others. I am sure this is something that all bakers enjoy - others savoring baked creations. One of my fave things to bake is banana bread. It's quick and simple, and really easy to sneak healthy ingredients into. While copious amounts of butter and sugar are super tasty, I do enjoy adapting recipes to include spelt, coconut oil and honey or agave.

While I'm baking, I catch up on podcasts. I love This American Life. What's not to love about Ira Glass and the various contributors who share stories each week? There are so many good episodes, but while I'm talking favourites, I say check out Break-Up.


Here is my banana bread recipe:


Ingredients:

3 - 4 mashed bananas

1 egg
2/3 cup sugar (you can substitute 1/3 cup agave, honey or maple syrup) 
1/3 cup melted butter (you can substitute for 1/3 cup coconut oil)1 1/2 cups flour (spelt or whole wheat works)

1 tsp baking powder 

1 tsp baking soda 

1/2 tsp salt 

1 cup chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 375. Combine dry ingredients in a medium-sized bowl. Mash up bananas, and then beat in sugar, eggs and butter. Add to dry mixture. Stir until moist. Add chocolate chips. Bake for 45 minutes. Enjoy!

Serve warm for best results. I like to have mine with a cup of tea. My current fave is Lee-Middleton Gourmet's Vanilla Earl Grey.