Mahatma Gandhi once said, “Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.”
Ghandi was a lawyer, pacifist and religious leader who became a symbol of Indian nationalism in the 1920’s and years leading up to the second world war.
There is much truth to this statement but it is easier said than done and fraught with frailty.
In theory, if you act in accordance to your thoughts and speak your truth, you will never feel conflicted and be content.
The reality is, we often don’t espouse or act in line with our beliefs due to fear of ostracism, reprisal or simply because it’s easier to remain silent.
For some, the issue is not alignment. It is simple they don’t know what to believe in anymore.
And for others still, there is a more dangerous scenario. Their beliefs, words and actions are aligned, but they are rooted in a negative or destructive mindset.
Gandhi believed in “satyagraha”, the social doctrine of nonviolence which advocates for the complete renunciation of war and violence as means of achieving goals. The doctrine applies to both nation states and individuals and stems from the ethical conviction that participating in any act of violence is morally wrong. Its literal translation is “holding onto truth”.
His entire life, Ghandi stood up against colonialism, racism, discrimination and violence. He inspired millions with his beliefs, his words and his actions.
Maybe it’s time we all Gandhi’d up. For the sake of our own personal happiness and for the sake of happiness in the world.
I have now lived more than half of my life in this beautiful corner of eastern Ontario, calling the area north of Kingston home. Dave and I often say it was the smartest decision we ever made (including having kids!)
And yet, I’m often astonished how many people I meet from southern Ontario or Quebec who have never been to downtown Kingston. They’ve stopped here travelling between Toronto and Montreal. But their only impression of our fair city is a plethora of gas stations and fast food restaurants off the 401.
Kingston is, in a word, simply…wonderful. From its vibrant patios and waterfront, to its historic buildings and world-class tourist attractions, thriving arts and music scene, and festivals all summer long, it delights all ages. So in the spirit of Destination Canada and travelling local this year*, I invite you to explore Kingston this summer. Here is my top ten list for things to do in the limestone city.
Watch the Queen’s Golden Gaels football team, hot off their amazing 2025 season take on their rivals at Richardson Stadium in August or September. Our newly rebuilt stadium (in 2016) is a true gem. Catch some rays, have a beer and cheer on the Gaels to victory.
Do a haunted walk. Kingston has many haunted buildings (I worked in one—the Empire Life historic building). Hear the grisly and ghostly tales and admire the architecture as you ramble through some of our wonderful old neighbourhoods.
Tour the SS Kewatin, the beautiful steam passenger vessel older than the titanic at the Great Lakes Museum. Kingston was lucky enough to secure this grand old dame in 2023. I haven’t toured her yet—it’s on my list for this summer.
Movies in the Square: Still one of my favourite things to do on a Thursday night in the summer. Downtown Kingston will be announcing their line-up soon.
Stroll or bike along the waterfront. Most people stick to Confederation Basin near city hall. Venture further west to Battery Park, City Park, the walkways behind the Tett Centre (stop at the Juniper Café for a coffee or cold beer) towards Lake Ontario Park.
The downtown is a hub of free music, festivals and events in the summer months. My recommendations: HomeGrown Live featuring all local performers this Saturday, May 2 (get there early—all the venues get packed as the day goes on!), Art after Dark later this month and Buskers Rendezvous in July. Hot off the presses: Kingston has replaced its popular BluesFest with a new festival called The RoadTrip Music Festival on September 12, 2026.
Take the free ferry from Kingston to Wolfe Island and listen to some live music and have a drink at the Wolfe Island Hotel or spend the day at Big Sandy Bay Beach ($20 per person and a kilometre hike in)
Fort Henry is always fun to visit, but elevate your experience by taking in one of their special events or sunset ceremonies. Plan to have a beer at the battery bar overlooking Lake Ontario and Kingston—one of the best views around. Admission to the fort is free for kids 17 and under with the Canada Strong Pass.
Number ten is a toss up between hiking at Lemoine’s Point, and exploring the streets of Barriefield, a heritage village. If you choose Barriefield, be sure to stop into the Frontenac County Schools Museum, a quaint one-room school house.
BONUS Number eleven! Admission is free to Bellevue House, the home of Sir John A. Macdonald from June 19 to September 7 as part of the Canada Strong pass again this year.
And I’d be remiss if I didn’t urge you to spend at least one day hiking, fishing, or biking on one of our beautiful trails or lakes in South Frontenac where I live.
This week’s #HappyAct is to come to Kingston and spend a few days this summer. For all my friends from out of town, consider this your invite to come visit us. I’d be happy to play tour guide for you!
Queen’s Golden Gaels playing at Richardson Stadium
Watching Wicked last summer in Market Square
When Dave’s cousins Alison and David visited last summer from BC, we had to take their picture in the Kingston sign!
J.R.R. Tolkien wrote in The Fellowship of the Rings, “All who wander are not lost.”
Does anybody get lost anymore? Not often. With the advent of Google maps and GPS, we’ve become glued to a screen on our dashboard or in our hands that tells us exactly where we need to go. We’ve lost the joy of getting lost.
There is a freedom and excitement to discovering what’s around the next corner when you are lost. Of course, you need to pick your times. If you are on a strict time schedule, or travelling with a group who would not appreciate your meanderings, it may not be the best time to wander at will.
But if your goal is simply to explore and discover, put your phone away and let whim and desire lead you.
On our recent trip to Turkey, Dave and I made the conscientious decision to put our phones away and get lost in Istanbul. In the touristy Sultanahmet neighbourhood, we wandered down back streets where locals shopped for daily necessities like cheap undergarments, work clothes and shoes. We passed by Turkish grandmothers “nenes” wearing scarves over their heads and peasant skirts, shopping for socks and underwear, and workers hauling merchandise up the narrow alleyways on carts.
In the Taksim district, we got lost in alleyways selling art and musical instruments and were surprised when we popped out directly in front of the Galata Tower, one of the historic landmarks on the modern side of the Bosphorus.
We spent another afternoon poking around Kadikoy, a neighbourhood on the Asian side of the Bosphorous. We found spices, tea and coffee half the price they were selling it for in the touristy Spice Market and had one of the best meals of our entire trip.
In the ancient town of Bursa, near the Mediterranean, we went exploring when we noticed a man setting up a vegetable stand. We discovered to our delight it was market day, and spent the next hour browsing stalls that snaked up and down narrow alleyways filled with fish, fresh produce, pure olive oil in unmarked bottles, tobacco, and more. It was one of the most amazing produce markets I’ve ever been to, and we just happened to stumble upon it.
This week’s #HappyAct is to put your GPS away and get lost. On foot, by car, it’s your choice. See what adventures and treasures you can find.
Photos: At top and above: every type of produce imaginable at the Bursa market. Note the selection of olives and unmarked bottles of olive oil. Workers carrying merchandise by hand in the back streets of Sultanahment. Dave in one of the alleyways near the Galata Tower. And finally, one of the chefs working in the window at Ciya Sofrasi in the Kadikoy neighbourhood of Istanbul. They own three restaurants, and can bring kebabs from their restaurant across the street over to include in your order. It was one of the best meals we had in Turkey.If you look closely, you can see my reflection in the window!
I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe I’m a thousand feet in the air soaring in the sky in a hot air balloon. It almost wasn’t to be.
When Dave and I decided on Turkey as a destination for a winter getaway, hot air ballooning was one of the premier attractions. The most famous place to hot air balloon in Turkey is Cappadocia over the fairy chimneys and primeval rock formations dating back thousands of years. The internet is teeming with pictures of this magical place where the skies are filled with dozens of colourful balloons in the sky at once.
We arrived in Cappadocia in the middle of a snowstorm. Our balloon ride was cancelled the next morning due to snow and the next day due to fog. We had one chance left to take to the skies the following morning in Pamukkale.
We had toured Pamukkale the day before. It was in fact, my favourite place in Turkey. Pamukkale, which means “cotton castle” in Turkish is a UNESCO World Heritage site famous for its white, thermal pools of calcium deposits the size of Niagara Falls. After soaking in its magical charm at sunset and exploring the ancient ruins of Hieropolis adjacent to it, I was bursting with anticipation to sail above it the next morning in a hot air balloon.
As our transfer took us down through the valley, we could see the first flight of balloons mid-air outside our windows. The sun had just breached the mountains to the east and the air had a soft, hazy glow.
We arrived in a field and watched as the pilot landed the balloon we were about to fly in. They had to balance the weight, so as two people exited the balloon, two of our group entered. It was tricky climbing over the sturdy rattan basket, but the pilot and his crew members were there to help and our group of 12, who had become quite close in our week-long adventures congenially extended helping hands and hauled each other one by one into the basket.
After a quick safety lesson, our pilot fires up the propane tanks. A burst of flames shoots upwards, sending waves of heat into my face as air fills the colourful balloon above us.
Lift off. The balloon begins to rise majestically, floating ever so gently, gaining altitude as the light from the daybreak casts a soft glow over the hills and valleys.
Our pilot watches the altitude, wind speed and conditions on his control panel. He releases more propane and we rise higher, higher.
I look down and see a patchwork quilt of vineyards and fields filled with olive trees and grapes and little dots that are houses. There is a large waterpark below us, as we begin to drift towards majestic Pamukkale.
There is a hushed silence, as our group watches in wonder the beauty of the landscape, breathing in the cool air and feeling the warmth of the morning sun on our faces. We are in awe.
A thousand feet. Our pilot keeps turning the balloon from east to west so we can all enjoy the magnificent views of the cotton castle below us and the snow-capped mountains to the west.
We continue suspended in air and in time, floating blissfully, quietly, at peace with the world and immersed in the atmosphere around us.
It is time to land. We had been briefed on how to sit for a crash landing, low in the basket, gripping the handles. As we drift slowly, slowly towards the ground, some of us assume the position. The pilot laughs. He assures us the stance is not necessary, it will be a smooth landing today.
We touch down, barely a bump in a mud-caked farmer’s field. The crew is waiting to greet us with champagne. Another successful flight.
Our hot air balloon ride in Turkey was a magical once-in-a-lifetime adventure. I hope you get to experience something as equally special and meaningful to you some day. See my quick Instagram video here.
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.
In March 2025, The Hudson’s Bay Company filed for creditor protection, marking the demise of this country’s oldest retailer and the end of the department store era in Canada.
As schoolchildren, we learned about the early history and legacy of The Hudson’s Bay Company. Founded in 1670, the company was granted a royal charter by the King of England to conduct sole trade and commerce in the area known as Hudson’s Bay, giving them a monopoly on the lucrative fur trade throughout much of English Canada.
For centuries, The Bay has been a part of our cultural fabric. Now, you too can own a piece of this storied company’s past.
Heffel Auction House is holding an online auction of Hudson’s Bay memorabilia and assets with bidding open until January 27, 2026. You can see all the items up for auction here.
I assumed most of the items would be rare and expensive works of art in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, but was pleasantly surprised to find most of the items were affordable.
Interested in an HBC decorative canoe paddle with the SS Beaver emblazoned on it? It can be yours for $700 (all bids stated are at the time of writing). Or how about a model of the tallship Nonesuch for $1,500? These are just some of the treasures you can find in the HBC Ephermera section. Or maybe you would prefer a decorative pocket watch for $400, commemorative sword for $1,600, a beaver pelt cheque for $500, or the map pictured above for $1,600.
The lots include coins, soapstone carvings and an entire collection of iconic Hudson Bay blankets, ranging from $50 to $3,750.
There are also two art sections, one of Inuit art and one of fine art, featuring works by well-known Canadian artists like Kenojuak Ashevak, Robert Bateman, and Alex Colville. I’m tempted to bid on this piece below called “He Guards the Peace” by David M. General, current bid of $50.
One thing you won’t find on the online auction is the original Royal Charter. It was auctioned off in late 2025, bought by the Thomson and Weston families for a cool $18 million. The families plan to donate it to a Canadian museum so all Canadians can see it.
This week’s #HappyAct is to take buying Canadian to heart and own a piece of Canadian history. Happy bidding!
Ed. note: if you are a fan of Indigenous art, be sure to make a trip to the McMichael Gallery in Kleinburg before March 29, 2026 to catch the exhibit, Early Days: Indigenous Art at the McMichael.
In compiling this annual list, I noticed a distinct trend this year: macro events influencing my weekly thoughts on happiness. It’s understandable. In a year dominated by Trump, the wars in Gaza and the Ukraine, not to mention all the political shenanigans here in Canada, it was hard to escape the events shaping our times that penetrated our consciousness and impacted our happiness this year.
Here’s the top 10 HappyActs of 2025 (plus a bonus one, because it’s 11, one better):
10: A letter to my American friends: when I wrote this post back on February 16, 2025, it was the early days of Trump. Little did we know just how bad it would get. Still real, still relevant, and my most-read blog post of last year.
9: Golden happiness: the story of the napalm girl. When I attended a talk by Kim Phuc earlier this fall (pictured above), I expected to hear about the horrors of war and importance of peace. What I didn’t expect was to hear a survivor’s inspirational philosophy on faith, happiness and forgiveness.
7. Humans by nature are social beings, yet moments of solitude can restore the soul. In my blog posts, Battling the epidemic of loneliness and Spend time in solitude, I explore the dichotomy of the human condition: when to be with others, and when to be alone.
6. It’s okay to be sad: a good reminder in a world hyper-focused on mental health
If you’re looking for a New Year’s resolution for 2026
5. Hit delete: in this post I ask people, if you could delete one thing in your life to be happier, what would it be? I had some interesting responses online, including religion (the source of many conflicts), the internet, and WWW!
4. Learn when to say yes and no: one of the greatest skills in life is to learn when to say yes and when to say no.
3. Never lose faith: true on every level, whether it’s the state of the world, having faith in others, your team, or yourself
Sometimes when I get down on my writing, I think of Frank McCourt.
McCourt is best known for his novel Angela’s Ashes which won a Pulitzer Prize in 1997 (one of the most depressing books of all time). What’s interesting about McCourt is he didn’t start writing until he was in his 60’s and published Angela’s Ashes when he was 66.
I read another of his autobiographies, ‘Tis which chronicled his time teaching in the New York City public school system for 30 years. McCourt said while he was working, he had no energy and brain power left at the end of the day to tackle creative writing projects. It was only when he retired did he find the drive and creativity to write his series of award-winning novels.
I was reminded of this yesterday when Dave sent me a text that said “It’s never too late” with a link to an article in last week’s The Kingston Whig-Standard. The article was about a first-time author who at the age of 98 just published a book of poetry about living at Kingsbridge Retirement Community.
Lois Tryon started writing poems to while away the time, and the staff at the retirement residence had the idea to insert her poems in the daily menus to inspire her fellow residents.
This week’s #HappyAct is to remember it’s never too late. If you’re feeling like you should be further ahead in life, or in achieving your goals, keep at it. Here are some more examples of people who achieved greatness later in life:
Colonel Harland Sanders of KFC fame was 62 when he franchised his famous secret chicken recipe and opened his first restaurant
Julia Child didn’t publish her groundbreaking cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking until she was 50.
Ray Kroc was a milkshake device salesman until at the age of 52 when he bought McDonalds and turned it into the world’s largest franchise
Henry Ford was 45 when he created the Model T in 1908
The great Morgan Freeman didn’t make it big in acting until he was in his 50s.
Photo of Lois Tryon by Elliott Ferguson, Kingston Whig-Standard
As I grow older, I am convinced more than ever that I am just an interloper on this earth. A transient squatter that one day will evaporate, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The land, however, will live on.
I am reminded of this every day I watch the wildlife in the woods I live in and the lakes I paddle on. They belong to the blue jays, beavers, porcupines, deer, woodpeckers, dragonflies, butterflies and herons. And yet, humankind aspires to own property and claim it as our own, putting up fences and markers to demarcate what is rightfully ours, and keep people and animals out.
I love my property, but I have always believed it is ours to steward and share, not own. I know there are many of my neighbours who would disagree with me.
Since moving to the country, I’ve seen the widely opposing views on property. Some are generous, allowing people to hike, and even hunt on their land and use private water access points. Others are aggressive in their defence of “their land”, putting up gates and guarding their property with shotguns. You better know who you’re dealing with if you wander down a private laneway or path.
One of my favourite walks in Scotland this summer was on private property in the tiny seaside village of Plockton, just off the Isle of Skye. There is an isthmus that juts out to sea, owned by a local family who has granted permission to anyone to hike the trails around their modest farmhouse. It was one of the most beautiful hikes I’ve ever done, and reminded me of the seascape on Vancouver Island.
In 2003, Scotland adopted the Land Reform Act, commonly known as “right to roam” that gives the people of Scotland the right to access and roam the land and inland waterways, including public lands, farmers’ fields, and other private property. Basic principles include respecting people’s privacy, caring for the environment, leaving no trace, and ensuring no damage is caused to crops or livestock.
England has not been as progressive in adopting this principle and we had some interesting conversations with fellow hikers and locals about the right to roam and our relationship to land and property.
As a society, we have been poor stewards of the land. From polluting our oceans, to mismanagement of our forests and the ever-threatening impacts of climate change, we have failed in our attempts to be good stewards of this planet. One writer described it as “soiling our own nest”, an apt description.
We’ve also incurred irreparable harm to our planet and humankind by trying to define borders and territories. Wars have been fought and millions of lives lost from the desire to conquer land.
In this, as in so many things, we can learn from Indigenous peoples who have a deep connection to nature, viewing themselves as part of an interdependent ecosystem with a deep commitment to care for the land and its creatures for future generations.
This week’s #HappyAct is to do one small thing to care for the land and creatures in your backyard, all the while accepting it’s not really your backyard in the first place.
Photos: at top: the view from a trail owned by homeowner’s in Plockton, Scotland, looking out over the sea. Above: deer grazing in my garden.
On March 8, 1972, a moment caught in time changed the world. It was the photo of 9-year old Kim Phuc, running naked on a road after being severely burned by a napalm attack in the Vietnamese War. The photo, later named “The Terror of War”, would go on to win a Pulitzer Prize and sway the shifting sands of sentiment against the war in Vietnam.
I was very fortunate last week to meet Kim and hear her speak about the day her village was bombed, the famous photo and how it impacted her life, and her path to faith, forgiveness and finding peace in her heart and happiness as a wife, mother and through her work as a UNESCO Global Ambassador for Peace.
Kim, whose name means Golden Happiness in Vietnamese was just nine years old when the Viet Cong invaded her village. The villagers, especially the children, were sent to a nearby temple where they would be safe. When the four bombs hit her village, she ran. The searing heat from the napalm at 1200 degrees Celsius burned the clothes off her body and much of her skin.
Presumed dead, her body was taken to the morgue where she lay motionless, in agony for three days before her parents found her and moved her to a hospital. She was transferred to a burn hospital where she spent the next 14 months.
Ten years later, Kim was studying to be a doctor when the South Vietnamese government had her dismissed from medical school. They wanted her to be a national symbol and puppet spokesperson, but as Kim puts it, she did not want to give them the power over her story and refused to comply. She was sent to Cuba for the next six years, where she met her husband, a North Korean.
Returning from their honeymoon in Moscow, Kim knew one of her only chances for freedom was to defect. When their plane stopped in Gander, Newfoundland for an hour layover and to refuel, she knew what she had to do. She and her husband got off the plane and sought political asylum in Canada.
For many years, the emotional and physical scars of her ordeal (she has undergone 17 surgeries over the years) filled her heart with hatred. But she realized she had two choices, to change her heart, or die from hatred. She said it took years to find peace and forgive her enemies.
She told one story of going to Washington in 1996 and visiting the Vietnam War Memorial. It was a large public event and she was asked to speak. Many Vietnam vets were attending, including the soldier who planned the attack on her village (the pilot who dropped the bombs was actually Vietnamese).
This soldier, named John, came forward and said he had never forgiven himself for the past 24 years for what he did to her and her village. She hugged him, and realized for the first time she was not the only one who suffered that day. They remain close friends to this day.
Kim’s message is still relevant in today’s troubled world: peace, love and forgiveness will always be more powerful than hatred.
I was struck by how beautiful, inside and out Kim was. She radiated peace, goodness, and loved to laugh. Her favourite saying was “No way, Jose!” and she said “eh?” several times, declaring herself a true Canadian.
In 1997, she founded the Kim Foundation International, a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping child victims of war. She still lives in Ajax, Ontario with her husband, and has three children and several grandchildren.
She also shared her secrets for living a happy, successful life:
Free your heart from hatred Free your mind from worry Live simple Give more Expect less
This week is Remembrance Day. As we honour the men and women who sacrificed their lives for our country, and the victims of war, remember the words of the napalm girl, that peace, love and forgiveness will always be more powerful than hatred.
Happy Act 