Have you ever had a time where you feel like you are watching your life unfold instead of living it?
It doesn’t happen to me often but when it does, it’s always a moment of sublime happiness. One minute I’m at the table with my family chatting about our day, and the next minute it’s as if I’m floating above them, watching them joke and throw barbs at each other. Their voices suspend in the air, and I observe from above, revelling in the simple but sweet moment of being surrounded by the people I love.
I know some people practice meditation to achieve this type of transcendence. I’ve never tried meditation unless you count all the times I’ve let my mind wander at will in my hot tub, but I’m open to it.
I read one article that says 90% of cultures recognize out of body experiences as real; half of these cultures actively practice having one.
This week’s #HappyAct is to have an out of body experience. Imagine yourself floating and looking down at the magnificent world below you. What do you see? How do you feel? And if you manage to achieve that wonderful feeling of divine peace and happiness, count yourself lucky. If you’ve had one of these experiences, share it in the comments below.
When Dave and I visited Turkey in March, we travelled with a wonderful group of positive people who were up for any adventure. One morning, someone said “Be prepared to be amazed today” and it became a mantra for our trip.
We were amazed almost every day of our Turkey trip, but you don’t need to take a big trip to see amazing things. There are amazing things all around you if you just take the time to look.
Like dragonflies. Did you know a dragonfly’s wings are thinner than a human hair but so strong that researchers have actually studied them to see if they can apply their design to human technological innovations? I love watching them at the lake.
Or how the leaves change colours in the fall at almost the exact same time each year? Dave, my resident tree guy says when the trees turn is based mainly on light and to a lesser degree, cooler temperatures. The colour is determined by the sugar content of the sap. Tree Canada’s website has a very detailed, scientific explanation. I don’t care about the science, but I do watch in wonder each fall as nature puts on the most breathtaking show of colours.
My daughters are a constant amazement to me. This morning, Grace ran in the CIBC Run for the Cure even though she had to work at the park last night and didn’t get home until 2 a.m. (she is a Park Warden) and had a sore knee. Nothing was going to stop her from running to raise awareness and money for breast cancer research.
Of course, amazement can work both ways. I’m amazed the Blue Jays didn’t make it to the playoffs and I’m amazed Leafs’ fans are already bragging that they’re going to take the Cup this year now that they have Gavin McKenna.
This week’s #HappyAct is to wake up every morning this week and say, “I’m going to be prepared to be amazed today”, then look for amazing things around you.
I saw an ad the other day that asked the question, how do you want to be remembered? (It was for a funeral planning service).
It made me stop for a moment and think. My answer may surprise you, but I don’t want to be remembered for anything.
When my mother passed away in 1984, one of my Dad’s journalist colleagues at The Toronto Sun, Claire Hoy wrote a column about her and her battle with cancer. Claire wrote of my parents, “They had a dog and lived on a quiet, suburban street, enjoying a quiet, peaceful ordinary life. They’re not people who ever made the newspapers. You wouldn’t see their names in the social columns. They won’t be in Who’s Who. No, John and Fran were just, well, common folks…But I’ve never seen a headliner with more guts than Fran Gillies. I’ve never seen a public star with more desire to be a good mother, a good wife, a good person.”
When my Dad died, The Globe and Mail published an article about him as part of their obit series on notable Torontonians who have passed away. My Dad would have laughed at being called notable, but since he worked as a photographer for The Globe and Mail and helped organize the royal tours when the British royal family came to Canada in the 1970s, I guess they thought his passing was worthy of notice.
I’m pretty sure when my toes turn facing up, there won’t be any newspaper article about me. Probably by the time it happens, there won’t be any newspapers left for that matter. I’m perfectly fine with that.
I’ve never felt an urgent need or compulsion to leave a legacy on this planet. If a few dogs remember me, that would make me happy. Hopefully my kids.
I’ve come to terms with the fact I was destined to live a small life. I like my small life. I love my small group of friends and my family, although sadly my family is dwindling each year, unless my daughters decide to have kids one day.
I like my small daily rituals and activities. Morning coffees. Afternoon swims. Playing badminton on Monday mornings. Walks with Bentley.
Atlantic magazine recently published an article called, “To Get Happier, Make Yourself Smaller”. Author and researcher Arthur Brooks said the path to enlightment is through contemplating one’s insignificance. People tend to believe they need to become bigger to be happy, but when we become smaller we achieve peace and perspective.
I was reminded of this a few months ago when I attended the Celebration of Life for our dear friend Bruno Albano. There were no newspaper articles, medals or accolades, just an outpouring of love in the room for an incredible human being.
I asked my 92-year old friend Pamela who I drive to writing class each week how she wanted to be remembered. She said, “As a pain in the ass and for all the crazy things I’ve done over the years.” I thought it was the perfect answer.
How do you want to be remembered? Share your answer in the comments. And if you are like me, and your answer is you don’t, know that there is peace, happiness and meaning in leading a small life.
Friday was a special day. I attended the convocation ceremony at Trent University in Peterborough for my daughter Grace who graduated with a BHSC in Environmental Resource Science.
It was a lovely ceremony and like every parent who sat in that gymnasium, we were so very, very proud of our daughter.
It made me think of a blog post I wrote five years ago when both my girls were graduating (elementary school and high school) during the height of COVID.
So much has changed in the past five years. The world is a scarier place. And in some ways, our children seem less equipped to solve its problems.
It made me wonder, what would be my message to this year’s graduating class if I was a big celebrity like Oprah Winfrey? I think my speech would go something like this.
Don’t be afraid of who you are and who you aren’t or not knowing who you will become nobody has it figured out even the people who look like they have it all figured out (especially the people who look like they have it all figured out) be happy with who you are today
Don’t be afraid to laugh or cry protest or mourn to shout wantonly from the rooftops or dance wildly in the streets never stand idly on the sidelines when you can be exulting in the moment
Don’t be afraid to put away your phone and look directly in someone’s eyes to connect on a deeper level and seek love, trust, compassion it is, after all, the essence of being human and the future of humanity
Don’t be afraid to take chances and risks to accept or ignore people’s advice only you know what’s best for you everyone else is just a spectator in your life cheering you on from the stands forge your own path in life
Don’t be afraid of that niggling voice in your head planting seeds of doubt convince that voice you are capable, prepared and even if you fail, you will be okay climb that peak
Don’t be afraid to talk to your parents from time to time we’ve watched you grow and falter succeed and stumble and reach heights we never imagined you may not need us any more but we need you
Don’t be afraid of the world and its problems in all its vastness and complexity love and hatred beauty and darkness there is still good in this world you may just need to work a little harder to find it
Whenever I go to the Orchard, it’s like a trip down memory lane. You see “The Orchard” was a regular Sunday morning ritual for my family when I was a child, and especially once my mother passed away.
The Orchard is almost as old as I am. It opened in 1966 a block south of Hurontario and Dundas and was owned by two friends, Angelo Mazaris and Louis Velianou from Florina, Greece. Louis’ son Tom runs it today. An interesting fun fact: my Mom was born in a house on Argyle Street, just a few streets from the Orchard where my grandparents owned a greenhouse for years in the 1930’s. The Orchard was literally in my Mom’s backyard. I’m guessing they called it the Orchard because in those days, that entire area of Mississauga was full of apple orchards.
Back in the 80’s, there was always a long line up at the door to be seated. I loved watching my Dad when he walked into The Orchard. It was like an episode of The King of Kensington or Cheers where everybody knew his name. As soon as my Dad or brother Don were seated, one of the waitresses would come up and give them a hug or kiss. The owners Angelo or Louis would wave in greeting from behind the open counter as they were flipping eggs on the grill.
They say our sense of smell triggers the most powerful memories and that was true with The Orchard. The unmistakeable smell of fried bacon, the intoxicating aroma of the best coffee in town, and that greasy smell of oil from French fries or hash browns that always made your stomach grumble.
At the end of breakfast when we offered to pay for the bill, my Dad would always say, “you can leave the tip”. You paid at the counter on the way out and no one used a debit or credit card in those days–it was always cash.
The Orchard was more than just a breakfast place for our family. As we got older and moved out of my Dad’s house, breakfast at The Orchard was often the only meal we ate as a family together each week. The place where we shared what was happening in each other’s lives. The staff there became an extension of our family, familiar faces on a Sunday morning. And when my father passed away, it was the place we went to honour him and to continue the tradition.
Today, there’s an entire slew of chains serving up breakfast, but few offer the same family feel of a restaurant like The Orchard.
This week’s #HappyAct is to find your favourite breakfast spot that makes you feel like family and help yourself to a big greasy breakfast.
Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Ottawa airport… It seems to me that love is everywhere.
This week, I picked up a very special package from the Ottawa airport. Kid #2 arrived on a Porter Airlines flight on Wednesday morning after being down east at school for the past four months.
So maybe love wasn’t everywhere when I went to pick Clare and maybe I ripped off that line from the opening scene of Love Actually, but the feelings of love and anticipation of seeing Clare after her being away for so long has made me a romantic at heart.
I love that opening scene from the movie, parents reuniting with children, old friends slapping each other on the back, and husbands and wives, boyfriends and girlfriends kissing and hugging each other with misty tearful eyes.
The reality of course was slightly different. I didn’t actually go into the Ottawa terminal. I missed the turn for the arrivals lane after seeing a sign that said Car Rental Return and had to make a U-turn and circle around the endless airport loop, Grace remonstrating with me and calling me a loser the entire way.
If we had entered the terminal, instead of seeing happy smiling faces reuniting, we probably would have seen half a dozen people making a frantic 100-yard dash to the bathroom after their seven-hour flight, another half a dozen cursing at their phones because the person picking them up was late, and at least one exhausted mother with two snotty-nosed kids trying to find her Uber.
I mean, c’mon. It’s not like we were going to see a young buxom brunette hopping into the arms of the Prime Minister. Wait, hold the ministerial phone. Did I just see Katy Perry launch herself at Justin at the gate, his strong arms encircling her while she wears a jaunty beret? Maybe the movie is true to real life after all.
The point is, maybe love actually can be found in an airport terminal. One thing is for certain. You have a better shot at finding love than your luggage if you fly Air Canada.
This week’s #HappyAct is my Christmas wish for you: to have a sweet reunion with someone you love. Happy holidays, and be sure to check back next week for my top ten happy acts of 2025.
Over the years, I’ve shared many of my favourite things about the holidays. To me, Christmas has never been about one day, or the presents under the tree. It’s about all the small moments and simple joys that make this time of year special and bring me happiness and peace.
Frosty cold mornings and snow laden trees And favourites like Elf, Home Alone and White Christmas on TV
Pretty green garlands of fresh spruce and pine Glasses of egg nog, hot cocoa and wine
Local church concerts and carols sung on high Finding the perfect gift then waiting for the Amazon guy
Filling the gaps in our old Christmas tree With shiny bright lights, homemade ornaments and memories
White chocolate-dipped Oreos and Mrs. Garrett’s butter tarts Nanaimo bars and haystacks and shortbreads cut in hearts
Candles glowing softly and red cardinals in the air Reminders of those we’ve lost but still with us everywhere
Bowie and Crosby, The Pogues and Buble Handel’s Messiah king of kings on Christmas Day
Gatherings with neighbours and laughter with friends A time to reflect and to make amends
Fighting over the chocolate in the advent calendar And constantly refilling the Scotch mint candy jar
The anticipation Christmas Day brings These are a few of my favourite things
This week’s #HappyAct is to enjoy your favourite things in the lead up to the holidays. What are your favourites?
This weekend, my girlfriends and I were talking about holiday traditions and lamenting the fact that “family time” over the holidays often involves each member of the household hidden away in different rooms on their devices.
We all decided we needed a new holiday tradition but had a hard time coming up with any good ideas. So I thought I’d reach out to you, my loyal readers to ask, what do you do in your house or with your family to spend meaningful time together over the holidays?
We’re only looking for answers that are an outing or activity–something we can do as a family that doesn’t involve screens (so not things like wearing the same Christmas pajamas, ugly sweaters or watching White Christmas on Christmas Eve).
Here were some of the ideas we bandied around:
Gingerbread house decorating contest
Family drive to see Christmas lights
Going to see a holiday concert or play
Playing indoor golf, bowling, laser tag or pool
Carolling around the neighbourhood
Sadly, while we think these would be fun, some are expensive for a family of four or six and there is a good chance our adult-grown children would groan and protest at things like carolling, so anything that is affordable and passes the Bah Humbug metre is a bonus.
Help us rediscover the joy of the holidays with our families and share your ideas by leaving a comment.
Read more about two of my favourite holiday traditions (although the first one is very unique to our family—you won’t want to adopt it!)
Retirement has been a difficult transition for me. I’m coming up on two years now and I still haven’t adjusted as well as some people do. I was sitting this afternoon, watching the rain pelt against the window obscuring a grey fall transition to winter, when it hit me.
Nobody needs me anymore.
I was always in middle management in my career. Always giving vague direction and punishing people for not reading my mind as the old Dilbert cartoon used to read. My specialty was putting out fires. People came to me looking for answers and I tried my best to write a plan on a cocktail napkin and hope it worked well enough to fool my superiors.
My days were an endless mix of planning, timesheets, scheduling, maintenance and finding the best ways to get the most out of each and every person who worked for me. I loved being needed at work even if I didn’t always love the work itself. Fast forward two years later and the only decisions I have to make are which trail to walk the dog on and what we are having for supper. Work doesn’t need me anymore.
My kids certainly don’t need me either. Both are out living their lives, one almost finished university (so proud) and looking at where she will end up next, the other knee-deep studying whatever biochemistry is. Except for rare conversations about new musical groups (Red Clay Strays and Tyler Childers) and the odd supper, they are completely and utterly embracing their own lives. No more rides to a remote hockey rink on a snowy winter road, no more conversations asking for advice on relationships. They don’t need me anymore.
Honestly the only person who even tolerates me is my life partner. Truthfully, I think if she had to pick between me and the dog, we all know who would win. Bookending Monday badminton and Tuesday line dancing is Friday writing groups and Saturday stock sport tournaments. She has embraced retirement with gusto and I am glad for this. She doesn’t need me anymore.
All the influencers talking about retirement being the golden age should have their heads examined. For some, retirement is a time to worry, to wander aimlessly trying to find direction and meaning in their lives, all the while wondering if their investments will support them until they leave this earthly abode.
I know that some of you are saying to yourself, what does he have to whine about? Lives on a lake, semi-good looking, gorgeous wife, yada, yada, yada but for some, myself included, the emptiness from not being needed outweighs all aspects in life.
Tread well into retirement my friends, sometimes it’s not all as advertised.
And if you see a white Dodge Cummins diesel with a 30-foot trailer rolling down the 401 at a buck twenty, festooned with Kingston BMW logos on it, know that someone is still depending on me to deliver a car that is worth more than my last annual salary. I guess someone still needs me……….
Conversation with Clare over FaceTime this morning. She’s cooking a turkey for the first time for her friends in Halifax. We’re in the car driving to our local conservation area to walk off last night’s Thanksgiving dinner:
“I’m cooking a turkey for our Friendsgiving tonight. How long do I cook it for?”
Dave: “How many pounds is it?”
“18 pounds.”
“6 hours at 350 then.”
“6 hours? I ain’t got time for dat.”
“I hope it’s unfrozen. Did you take it out of the freezer?”
“I don’t know, it’s been in the fridge.”
“You better check to make sure it’s unfrozen or it won’t be ready in time. What time are you having dinner?”
“6 pm” (it’s 12 noon in Halifax already). Yells to her roommates: “Make sure you turn the fire alarm off”. Then, “How do I tell if it’s unfrozen?”
“Stick your hand inside it and see if it’s hard.”
“Oh lordie, lordie that’s cold. It’s a little hard but I think it’s mainly unfrozen. What do I do next?”
“You have to look for the neck and giblets and take them out.”
“Jib what?”
“Giblets. They’ll be in a little bag.”
“Okay, I got them. What was the other thing?”
“The neck.”
“Huh?”
“It looks like 4-inch penis. You have to pull it out.”
“I don’t see anything that looks like that.”
I’m laughing so hard at this point I miss the turn to the conservation area. Dave has to stop giving turkey instructions to give me road directions.
Dave: “There might not be a neck. Not all turkeys come with the neck and it’s okay to cook it with the neck in if it is there.”
“Okay, now what do I do?”
“Just add some water to the bottom of the pan, cover it up and put it in the oven.”
At this point, she gets distracted and starts talking to Grace about her outfit. “Is that a pink Lululemon top? I love it.”
Grace: “Yeah, I’ll bring it to Halifax when I come see you on the weekend so you can steal it from me.”
She finally finishes covering up the turkey with foil and puts it in the oven. She holds up her happy face oven mitts wide with pride.
“Happy Turkey Day guys.”
To all my loyal readers, I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving. We were grateful for the family, friends and laughter around our table last night but missed our loved ones far away.
