Who to blame?

Today I got upset. I got caught between my boss and a client. I got the impression that I was being blamed for their errors. Well, maybe I had a part in it. I might have misunderstood my boss's words. He is from Cork after all!

He was just getting frustrated because he wasn't getting paid. But I feel like I do a good job and deserve to be trusted.

I have had some of the worst bosses that are legally possible. One that shouted at me because I miscounted background actors by two people with a line up of two hundred in the sweltering sun. Another used graphic language about my anatomy. His words were so bad that I couldn't repeat them here. And he was blaming me on a mistake he had made.
On the other hand I've had some beautiful bosses who led with understanding and confidence, rather than acting like an authority figure. One such person received a complaint about me and after listening, without needing to ask my side, defended me instantly.

This is the kind of relationship that I choose. If someone doesn't trust that I am doing my best then they can find someone else. I don't need to be shouted at or for foul language to be used to inspire me into action. I am more than happy to fix whatever I miscalculate or misunderstand, just because I care and like to do a good job. I want to be a positive part of whatever I am doing.

Children's lives are entrusted to me daily. I am everything to them - teacher, counsellor, cook, judge, coach, disciplinarian, witness, avocate and cuddler. How much more important is that than appearing "professional" or efficient in someone's eyes?

In the past, I was afraid of being fired. Every little mistake made me edgy and so I made lots of them. I wrongly concluded that I wasn't made for accounting or for the business world. And maybe it isn't my forte. However, something I have accumulated with the wrinkles and grey hairs, is a value for myself. I am not what I do right or wrong. I am so much more.

When it comes down to it, I choose to work with people who are mature enough to know how great they are, and how fallible they are. Then there is no one to blame. There is just, "how can we fix this?"

Pioneer of Free Falling

I got the feeling many times in my life that I needed to invent my own way through whatever I was doing. I found out the hard way that that the example I got didn't work for me. Neither did the opposite to that example. So what was I to do?

I try to catch myself when I start thinking that there's a right thing and a wrong thing. I remember when I was a kid, watching old Hollywood movies with Catherine Hepburn, thinking, "Okay. He got into trouble because he did that." Hollywood defined my notion of "sin" as much as the Catholic church did. Argh!

Many tough and interesting experiences taught me not to be so judgemental. When torn up about a life changing decision, a complete stranger walked up to me and said "sometimes wrong is right." My friends burst into laughter when she heard him because we had just been discussion my decision.

It's a great relief to allow myself to be "less than perfect" in my own mind or not to know what I'm going to do next. It's liberating and exciting. I don't mean I don't have a schedule. I mean I don't have to have my life planned out ahead of me. Now sometimes that can be scary too. Deciding to follow a path into a new dimension puts you face to face with the unknown. Where's the security? There is none, you step off the cliff and free fall.

But there is security. It's a security that is not financial. It's not depending on anyone or anything outside of myself. It is a commitment to myself that I will take good care of myself, no matter what situation I'm in. That can mean speaking up for myself and it sometimes means saying no to someone that I love. But more often it means saying no to myself when I want to go back to old patterns of thought.

I am not advocating becoming a vagabond, unless that's what you've always wanted. Nor am I saying that you don't need to plan for our retirement. I'm talking about sensing what's best for myself from the inside, knowing what I know from the outside. It's balancing my head and my heart. It's following the energy that flows from inside. And taking steps towards it.

And then free falling!

Radical Love of Life

I think I'm going to have to live up to the "radical" in the title of this blog. The thing is that I don't feel so radical when I'm writing. (I hear my sisters chanting "write more, Mary, write more"!)

The thing behind my radical ideas is that I care passionately about people. I even care about the people I don't like and the ones I don't agree with. I believe that our world cannot be ideal until we are all ready to agree on that ideal or something close to it. Otherwise we could all live in self governing communities and could choose the one that suits us most. But still, we would need ground rules because we share the same air, the same water.

I think that right now we have too many rules, written and unwritten, enforced and ingrained. So much history that keeps us down and institutions that clip our wings. Our social norms dictate that we be domesticated. And now the western world faces economic austerity measures. Yes, Canadians they are coming here too.

Now, I do think we should protest injustice. And governments are going to try to make us believe that the debt is ours. But whether or not we protest, I suggest we embrace simple living now. Lets turn off our screens, lights, heaters, air conditioners and go outside and play as much as possible. Make a bucket list of things that cost nothing, that make no carbon footprint. If you have to travel in a car to go to the country, fill your car with people, so they can enjoy it too.

It all comes down to respect for life and community.

Powerful people, in general, don’t seen to have respect for the lives of others. And we need to speak out against this injustice. But if I respect my own life, my own body, if I spend my time as well as I can and help whoever I can along the way, then I’m doing my part.

The Importance of Nothing

It's Sunday morning. I swapped my ten year old son for a four year old niece for the night with my sister. So, I have two four year olds quietly reaping havoc on the already messy bedrooms above my head. My almost 12 year old daughter is in her bed, headphones on, watching past episodes of "Glee". The man of the house is on the couch, creating art or music on his ipad. The washing machine and dryer are humming away below me and the birds that have taken residence in our fan are chirping away outside the window behind me.

It is peaceful. Nothing is happening and I'm savouring it.

Often we say to each other when we meet "What's happenin'?" And reply grimacing "not much" or "same old, same old" or "surviving". What are we saying? "Our lives are boring". Are our lives only exciting when we are going on exotic holidays? Or are they only exciting when we have some battle to fight? Or maybe we live through others. "You'll never guess what she did."

What do we want to do more than we are doing? What do we want to do less of? What is stopping us?

I would like to see more live theatre, music and dance. I would like to spend more time, cooking with friends and having them over for dinner. I would like to take a few days and go to the country with a bunch of women. So what's stopping me? Only one thing and it's not time or money, or management. It's importance. I do not give importance to what I want because I am busy being "responsible".

I see the scene. It's raining, maybe a distant rumbling of thunder (of course there has to be some drama at my funeral). They are giving me a eulogy before they put my hemp coffin into the ground. What are they saying? "She was so responsible. She has nothing to regret." Or are they saying? "She lived a good life. She looked after her children but she had fun along the way."

And I'm looking down from heaven, saying, "I'm glad I got that laundry done instead of going for a walk with my sisters." (Of course I'll be in heaven!)

Whether or not I get around to doing all these lovely things I wish for, there's one thing I'm doing right now, enjoying the nothing. Because sometimes that's what I want most.

My Nails on a Chalk Board

Toilet seats left up, toothpaste left open, cars that cut me off, don't really bother me. I see them as part of living together, par for the course.

My pet peeve came at a very young age. My sister, who was far more mischievous than I was, got caught and punished severely for something I had also done. But she was picked on, not me. She was really being punished for who she was, not what she did. I wanted to hurl my small body at the unfairness and punch it with my little fists. But I knew it pointless and was afraid to take on such a giant. Since that day injustice has been my nails on a chalk board.

If I'm honest, my experiences with police officers are pretty even. They were there for me when I was assaulted by my ex. But on the other hand, an officer who stopped me acted heartlessly when I told him that my friend in the car, had just had minor surgery. She was in pain. But, he wouldn't let me go or hurry up the process. And he was not very pleasant about it.

Still, I truly had a healthy respect for the force. I taught my children to address them with respect, to obey the law because it made sense. I told them that the police were there to protect us all.

All of this lovely confidence evaporated last year when I saw how the police behaved at the G20 summit in Toronto and it's a very difficult climb to get it back. Of course, I know that many officers did not agree with what happened and many officers have their hearts in the right places. But I am still traumatized by the injustice of what happened. The protesters were punished for who they were not for what they had done.

Again, my "not so small" body was filled with anger. How could I take on this giant? As before, I did not know what to do with my rage. It would no longer fit in my unconscious mind. So I cut my own hair and planted a garden. I meditated and read spiritual materials. I concluded that every problem, every injustice has a deeper cause. It is fundamentally about right and wrong. So the solution is to do more right, spread the knowledge, the love, the joy. That's the activism I choose to be engaged in.

I have changed in this process. In my personal life, I am drawing more lines in the sand. You behave badly, I will let you know. I see the wrong, I will say it.

Little Mary has a voice. She not punching the giant but she's blowing it's cover!

The Luxury of Learning

I had the luxury of going to the zoo with my 4 year old's class. I have the luxury of dropping my kids off and picking them up everyday. I have the luxury of a large overdraft too!!!

This was the facebook status that inspired this blog. I was ranting because of a parent who was trying to "sway" the parent council not to make a parent area at the entrance of the school yard.

I love being able to be there for my kids everyday. It is a choice. It is a sacrifice that I don't make alone. Would I swap it for other "luxuries"? Only if they would benefit my kids.

And yes, people tend to like me (even if I rant about politics!) Maybe, just maybe they like me because when I represent the parents, I will speak for them, even if I don't agree with them. That's democratic! When more people vote against what I want, I not only go along with it, I enforce it.

I might get impassioned and get carried away and maybe talk too much / write too much. But I will not attack you personally if you have a different opinion. In fact, I enjoy a different opinion. I enjoy debate. I learn from others when they are open enough to really engage in an exchange.

i was on this parent council for seven years. Many parents approached me with worries and concerns, from their kids getting their feet wet when changing from snow boots to indoor shoes, to parents looking for advocacy because their children were asked to leave the school. I couldn't help everybody. And for what I did, I didn't have much help.

I called superintendents, ran meetings, took on roles by default, fundraised, did accounting, wrote articles and begged people. I begged them to get involved, I begged them to come to events, I begged them to translate a speech for me, I begged them to include me in their groups. I got many rejections and I admit, I shed a few tears. Every February, I got depressed, not because of the lack of sunshine but because of the lack of love from the parents for my cause.

And what is my cause?

At first my cause was material. I wanted to improve the playground. I saw this as a multileveled goal. A better playground would overall cause our children to be happier to come to school. It would reduce bullying and boredom. It would give our children a reason to be proud.

Then I realized that there were bigger problems, a lack of school spirit and also our parents were struggling. Most are new immigrants. So I revised my vision to creating community. I ran coffee mornings alone. I was present at kindergarden orientation. I was there with my coffee and cookies at curriculum night and parent teacher night, mostly alone.

Finally, my dream came true. New parents arrived. Parents willing to give time, energy, money, enthusiasm, skills and expertise. We got things done. We raised money. We had fun events. Teachers, parents, students and community members were coming out of the woodwork. How thrilling after all those years of struggle!

Then the clashes began. Egos bounced off each other, mine included until I could not, would not take anymore. It was sad and ironic.

But I am still here, on the sidelines. My tiny stunt in community politics has helped me to understand a lot about human nature and even more about myself.