Mark Is Musing

WE SHALL NOT SLEEP - Mark’s Musing Wednesday Nov. 11, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park   Morning walk: -8C/17F, clear, calm, sun rising to quiet streets - the holiday has slowed the pace of morning, Gusta walked the lawns, I walked the sidewalks; I’m hacking less but my throat still feels like a construction site, too much gravel - more drugs please.   Living we are national; we are Canadian, American, Russian, Chinese ... but dead, we are dead.  Those who’ve fallen in conflict, whatever side they are on, whoever’s agenda they served, are dead - each just as dead and gone as the other.   Canadians are not alone.  All over the world today, in many countries, remembrance of the fallen in 1918, the Treaty of Versailles that was to end it all forever .... continues each year, and each day because the wars aren’t over.    So many Canadians rest in those fields. There will be cold air and sunshine for them today. They served. They did their duty. We cannot rest. We cannot sleep.  The wars, they aren’t over.  Our troops are not all home. Our men and women are not all safe.   Service and duty is not only the territory of armed forces and law enforcement personnel, but we see it more there, we talk about it more, we appreciate it more because lives are put on the line every day. Too many times lives put on the line are lost.   On this day, so many things have happened; in 1918, at 11:11 AM, the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, in Versailles, an armistice was signed.  The end of WWI or, as it was known then, the war to end all wars.  Well written, but over-sold.   It ended in nothing much changed; it simply put the world on pause/rewind/rebuild for a while. In that war, and in so many since, far too many - even one is too many -  spilled their blood and left their life on some foreign soil, for what?  There is always a cause - for defense of liberty, for land or religion, for power or for resistance to power, for old hatreds that won’t go away, for settling disputes; the reasons always seems so senseless, the conflict so severe that warring seems the only solution.  What has man come to, with so much intelligence, experience; with so many people and issues at stake, that we can’ figure this out?   We cannot forget.  But it is easy, isn’t it?  Our lives are good, fast, smart, busy, modern - so what is this fuss about lives on the line, killing, warring, defending - so distracting from the goodness in life and in all of us?   My experience with war, war loss, is that of a reader of stories but not from personal experiences. My father and one uncle served our country. Neither say battle, but each did their jobs. They came home.   Today, I pay tribute to all those who answer the call to duty; whether or not the pick up a weapon or not, service and duty are qualities we so often overlook in this fast paced world, too easy to miss. Today is a day to remember, reflect and remind ourselves that service and duty are at the root of just about everything we call good in our lives.  Freedom, comes from service and duty.  Prosperity comes from service and duty.   I don’t know war, but I wear a poppy.   I’ve not known tragic loss in war, but I wear a poppy.   Canadians have fought, have kept peace and have served with so much valor on so many battlefields that no Canadian does not share in their honor, does not share the good life we enjoy because of them, does not owe them our lives and livelihood.  They served and did their duty.  They were brave and young. So many came home to make our country strong. So many never came home.  They did their duty, they served and they died for us.  While their deaths, like all deaths, were senseless in so many ways, their death and their service to our country is one of our greatest and most under-appreciated treasures.   We honor them with silence, we honor them with respect, we honor them with the poppies we wear.   In Flanders Fields In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved, and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields. - Lt.-Col.  John McCrae (1872 - 1918) - Canadian physician wrote this May 3, 1915 after he witnessed the death of his friend Lieutenant Alexis Helmer (22) the day before     Mark Kolke 327,036 193.2

EXPERIENCE THAT REVEALS - Mark’s Musing Tuesday Nov. 10, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park   Morning walk: 1C/34F, last night’s cloudless moonless sky gave way to pre-dawn pink/white mix as Gusta and I prowled our favorite alley route . . lots of dog energy, lots of wag, which cheered my dragging behind; slept late - needed it - no gym this morning; head cold has taken up residence, it stifles energy - slows me to a crawl, but in the going slow I think it helps me be more effective, less frenetic. That’s weird, to feel so good while feeling bad, or maybe they’re not connected other than they are taking place in my head at the same time.   I had mixed reactions to my ‘I am open to having the universe help me out’ comments yesterday; I will never have the sense that it is a bad idea to tell people who I am, what I do and to look for opportunities to do worthy work, wherever that is, whoever they might be. Thanks to those who responded to my query yesterday, calls and notes, ideas, leads are always welcomed, appreciated and valued.   I’ve been thinking a bit, lots really, about confidence.  Trying to understand it better, to know where it comes from in me and in others; I don’t think I’ve ever heard it described better than this quote by E.E. Cummings:  “Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit.”   There is no book or place of certainty to prove Cummings was right, but his words ring true for me. I think he spoke a truth.   My day is about to be full of too many things for any single day, so I’ll do the first one, then the second - then carry on with more.   I’ll be distracted, diverted, dismayed and dogged in bringing myself back on task; still the day will end with so much not done, so much to do, so much out in front of me.....   In my waxing philosophical - especially when I read great words by artists of the written word who are long ago dead, that we are not remembered for what we had waiting in the in-basket, but for what we’ve done.    The more I think about that, I think the more time I take on important things and the more things I pull from the in-basket to send straight to waste-basket.  Maybe Cummings words should be my litmus test - if what I’m doing reveals the human spirit (in me or in someone else) then I should do it.  If not, maybe I need to put it in the trash.   Late start and much to do dictates it is time to stop.  More tomorrow.   Mark Kolke 327,060    194.2     November 9 Responses November 9 - WORK AND DARE - Mark, I just couldn't not respond to this musing. First, that is my favourite poem and because of that, my son framed it for me for Christmas and it hangs proudly on my bathroom wall. I am currently going through some soul-searching myself. I have gone through this process with clients when I have working with them about their career direction. One fact that often amazed me about the path that people have chosen or perhaps the path that they had ignored was that it sometimes is  a result of a seed planted in their early years by one significant person. It might have been a visit to an art gallery or a comment that they would be good at sales.   However, as adults, I think change and the courage to risk comes when an idea hits the top of our long list of goals we write in our head. For a long time I was  thinking of venturing out on my own by setting up a career coaching business. When it hit the top of my list, I started really planning how I could make that happen. One thing I decided to do was to join an organization. At the second meeting I attended, I was a bit late and ended up standing at the back of the room. A woman standing beside me struck up a conversation and asked me if I knew  anyone who could do some career coaching for an employee that worked at her company TSN. The rest is history.  I am now struggling with some relationship problems and it has hit the top of my list even though at 60 change is scary and risky. But no change may bring all kinds of regret. Fear of the unknown may immobilize us but we have to find the courage to set our goals and go after them.  Mark, Hawaii has hit the top of your list. Go for it!!!, GC, Mississauga, ON   November 9 - WORK AND DARE - practical optimal reality.  excellent turn of phrase; And then you quote Frost, you are truly a man after my heart. Last week we attended a fundraiser function to support my sister-in-law.  I ran into a woman I used to work with and who I enjoy very much.  XXXXX, is now the head of XXXXX in Maui. I would be happy to call and "introduce" you.  Who knows?  Take the right fork in the road, it might lead somewhere, FO, Kaunakakai, HI   November 9 - WORK AND DARE - I do enjoy your musings and appreciate this level of sharing, P, Maui, HI

WORK AND DARE - Mark’s Musing MondayNov. 9, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park   Morning walk: -5C/22F, morning rabbits and commuters didn’t notice us, just man and dog on a 5AM trot, the morning constitutional; Gusta uncommonly frisky this morning got my motor running . . then the gym, then a cuppa Starbucks, a paper   Q. When does it happen?   How far away is your dream?  When do you reach your road-fork path-choice moment? Where is that moment, spot in time, when things change, paths shift, directions alter, new things begun?    A. Every day   Results, and people, show up when they show up, triggering events happen when they happen. When we least expect, often involving people we don’t know or ones we least expect it from, life changes a little, or a lot. Long process, or a heartbeat.  No way to know.   It could be today, right now, or this afternoon.  If we blink we might miss it.  If we have eyes-wide in search of it we may miss it completely, or only recognize it many years from now, looking back with a smile in appreciation of when magic landed in our laps.  Hopefully, we don’t look back realizing we slammed doors shut on something great because our minds were closed off to the possibilities, or we were so set in our ways inflexibly sticking to one path, unwilling to consider myriad possibilities.   I’ve had many of these. Tracing back tributaries of my life-flow - innocuous beginnings, meetings or calls or introductions out of the blue - circumstances and venue never the same (if they were, wouldn’t it be cool to just repeat standing on the same street corner waiting to be re-hit by the same bus?)   Looking back, my path has many turning points, I so often missed them when they happened - recognizing them only in hindsight. In recent years, I think, I hope, I’ve been getting better at recognizing them sooner.  By that, I don’t mean ‘at the moment they happen’, but sooner rather than later.   I was thinking, especially after lunch last week with SB, about how many people are in my life, significant players in my life as a result of or by-product of this column.  This column, by-product of a chat with my daughter Carla on a snowy walk on the last day of a winter, gave rise to this column on the first day of spring 2003.  Who knew?   That day changed my life, made this column reality. Since then, a springboard for so many connections - both awesome people, and awesome trains of thought, threads of dialogue - as if we all have finger-tips reaching out to touch someone somewhere. Thoughts, paths, people - improbability of connections, when someone steps out of cyber-dark to say hi, out of a crowd to say hi, tells someone who tells someone who then elects to ‘read what this guy wrote’ - gratifying beyond wildest imagination, amazing miraculous uncanny, gravitas, gobsmacking effie-tastic.   The moments, the steps, the ‘forks in the road’ .... the ones that change your life, the ones Frost wrote about in The Road Not Taken :   Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth. Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same. And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one less traveled by,   And that has made all the difference.     What constitutes that moment, that time, that fork in the road, that grassy path choice?   Which brings me, eventually, to a point; my wildest imagination, dreams that will only come true through actions.   No matter how hard I try, my dreams may never be realized but it shouldn’t be because I failed to make every effort to make them come true.   This day, I’ll take a chance and trust some process.  In the past, I’ve often triggered some chance meetings, unexpected idea exchanges and helped myself and others to do some very cool things . .   The challenge, something most of us (men anyway) resist doing, is simply asking for help. “Help me, please” are some of the hardest words to say.  The words imply we can’t do it alone, we can’t do it without someone else’s help, our male-ness, the history of species and the DNA of our fore-fathers say ‘don’t ask for help’ as if it somehow telegraphs weakness or ineptitude.  Bunk.    Asking for help doesn’t mean we are helpless.  It simply means opening up to let others, if they want to or are able, to offer us some help.  How tough can that be?  Really tough.   But, we’re growing here . . so I’m trying, not to beg or plead, but to ask - to invite - the help of those who might be disposed to helping me.  I enlist you, yes you, my readers, my friends, my strangers, my voices in the wilderness - to help me.  Please.  Please help me.   What I need, what I hope to receive from you is this - ideas, suggestions, leads, contacts, introductions - whatever you might have, send it my way, please  .. I’ll be a grateful recipient.   My goal, to live and work in Hawaii.  My obstacles - revenue from things I can do there or from anywhere (this part of my work is growing, but needs to grow faster!), timing, logistics, laws (need to figure out best way to get permission to work in US... lawyers tell me there are ways), I need clients there who need writing services, coaching, project management, real estate services/consultants or anything connected with golfing, tourism, travel ... etc.; I have a laundry list of places/people/companies I want to build connections with .. that starts now, starts here. If there is anyone out there in Musing-land who has some ideas, I’d love to hear them.  If you know someone I should call, somebody I should meet, have an idea I might explore, or a lead to someone I might do business with in Hawaii or someone in Canada who is doing business in Hawaii, I am keen to connect with them.   To live my dream, I’d rather not be living in a basement suite and working as a Wal-mart greeter .... but I might one day if there were no alternative. Alternatives, are likely around many corners where I’ve not looked. I have a long list of folks ‘to call or write' to explore possibilities of contract work in Hawaii, but haven't acted on any of them; I’ve been thinking it was ‘too soon’, but I’ve changed my thinking.  I wouldn’t want it to be ‘too late’ ... or hear ‘you should have contacted us sooner, we just hired a firm to help us with that ..’...etc.  Can't wait, till the next conversation or the first meeting - just imagining is intoxicating, gets adrenaline and endorphins flowing; I was telling a friend that my 'taking steps to get to Hawaii' have an accelerant .. a mindset that tells me to 'get busy'.  I can speed those things up ..... and will.  Whether that results in any 'we need to meet here ASAP' is brain food for me right now, so is my dream.  Dreams, goals, things to strive for - without them life’s color is so black and white.   I like that quote from Vincent Van Gogh: “One must work and dare if one really wants to live.”   Mark Kolke 327,084    195.5

FEAR EVERYTHING OR FEAR NOTHING - Mark’s Musing Sunday Nov. 8, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park   Morning walk: -4C/24F, some cloud, steady breeze; Gusta walked fast, her owner even faster . . not interested in spending too much time outside, a head cold that won’t go away easily is to blame, the exercise refreshing just the same.   I love doing this writing.  Somewhere - someday - a light is going to come on that says ‘YES’, this is the way, this is the formula, this is the way to actually make a living doing what you love.  Till then, I’ll sandwich it in with all the other things that do ....   Fingers still a little numb from hosing out gutters clogged with tre-debris yesterday; good evening - out to Mina’s for Vietnamese food, then down to Eau Claire to catch ‘An Education’, Brit-flick, borderline chick-flick . . good laughs, great popcorn.  I'm not sure what to cook for dinner tonight - right now I'm thinking spaghetti, or maybe popcorn. I just got off the horn with my dad; he had a bought of angina this morning but, thanks to a nitro pill under his tongue, it dissipated and he is feeling fine this morning; I'll see him later after I pick up his groceries.   I’ve been slowly getting caught up on newspapers piled up while I was gone, and today’s of course; headline upon headline, story upon story about troubles of every kind.  The good news is like chinking between logs of trouble, too little, squeezed in, barely fitting . . well not enough actually, which gets me thinking - is it really a lack of good news, or a lack of good news reporting?   Life, full of stop signs, yield signs, caution signs ... warning us ‘this is the trouble you’re heading towards’.   Warnings of trouble are for those who see trouble in things; for those who see opportunity, such warnings are probably more like a child’s taunt of ‘I dare ya . . I double-dare ya’ ... because there is a warning label on most things these days; pill bottle disclaimers, warnings on TV ads that this or that will kill you if mixed with this or that, packaging and headlines keep us warned and wary . . . fearful of H1N1 or the issue/disease/social problem du jour.  If we believe it all, we should be afraid of everything.  Fear everything . . or fear nothing. Both are illogical, yet they appear on our emotional spectrum every day.   Like its cousin bad news, good news is everywhere - we just have to look.  Also, those with good news, happy news and pleasure on their mind rarely tell the world, or even a few people.  People with trouble, with a problem, will tell everyone they can reach, anyone who will listen.   The afternoon, supposed to be nice; I’ll be hunkered down sweating over a hot keyboard with some writing projects and admin work . . lovely stuff really.  Really.  Love it.    Mark Kolke 327,108    197.5

THEY SET SAIL ANYWAY - Mark’s Musing Saturday Nov. 7, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park   Morning walk: 0C/32F, big blow seems to have blown away for now, sun up, Gusta chasing squirrels, they keep disappearing around trees (look up Gusta!); cars careening around corners as hockey-parents late for practice .. or something screech tires, then streets fall quiet again.  My body is in Calgary, my mind is on a sandy shore far away.  This mood, perhaps temporary, affected by this cold that’s grabbed me, some melancholy mixed with euphoria, dreams and non-dreams .... maybe it’s the cold meds mixed with coffee??   Are my lights dimmed?  Perhaps I’m a bit subdued.  My reality check, my expectations analysis is part of that.  Some of that connects to my personal relationships - some in terms of work and business ... and where different initiatives are headed, likely to go . . that kind of thing.   Each time I come back to the realization there is a combination of good feelings about the reality and the dream, and sad feelings about ‘what might have been’ had circumstances been different, had I made different moves or plans or choices at some points in the past.   Reality check ... is a look in the mirror and the crystal ball - at the same time - a look at one person’s perception of reality and dream of a new reality somewhere down the path.  The best paths have many turns.   Explorers of the past set sail, some with belief/fear there was an edge of the world, that they’d fall off. They didn’t know where they were going, but by good golly, they were going.  They feared less the uncertainty of where they were going than the certainty of staying where they were.  They dared  mix dreams, fears and actions in one cauldron. They set sail anyway.    Looking for adventure, I’ve planned my departure; I’m gathering provisions, looking for sponsors and patrons, I’m assembling my crew, I’ve blank charts and a pen ready to go - I want to explore life ahead . . ahoy there mates, I can’t swim so I’ll be needin’ plenty of help. Whoa there Mark, how about a reality check . . So many of my wishes are un-connected to my reality at this moment, but that doesn’t make the dreams less real or the goal less worthy.    All of life involves risk, risk taking and risk avoidance.  Sometimes that is just gettin’ through the day. Sadly, for some, it is that way every day.   Which gives rise to so many decision points...... do this, don’t do that, say yes to this, say ‘no way’ to that, plot, plan, hope, dream, work, strategize, improvise, dream .... and toss fresh ideas at walls. See what sticks.  With most things, most of the time, it’s not going to happen unless I make it happen. Action steps. Risk steps.  Confronting fear, uncertainty and doubt.   For some of us, the risk/reward continuum tracks off in opposite directions where risk, like moth’s flame, is full of danger and heat, place of thrills and destruction, bright light or consuming fire. Risks thrills, habit forming endorphins and adrenaline elixirs. Most of us, most days, fall between those two extremes.   In our head we can travel forth-back easily. Our actions reveal where we really live.  I’m trying to get very clear on what is reality, what is possible and what is simply ‘impossible’ on many fronts.  If I had my wishes I’d be waking up in a dreamy place, the welcome mat of the next 1/3rd of my life would be rolled out to greet me . .   Had the world been different, everything would be different, but this world is the way it is, so the only way things can be different is if I (we, you, all of us) make them different.  We are all creatures of two key elements - who we are destined to be and where we are. Neither are pre-ordained or required, but we have a tendency to think the way we were taught to think, expect what we were taught to expect and live where and how we were taught to do it.  We can inter-change names of cities or occupations to give the illusion of change, but real departures from what we were programmed to do in life is far more daunting a task, rewards unlikely, risks high and the future an unknown. Each morning - sometimes later in the day too - I check my email for only one reason, like an eager five year old, looking to see if there is something exciting and new.  I admit it, I can’t be away from my technology connection very long without the feeling I might be missing something because there might be something surprising, lovely, amazing and cool, just waiting to be read.  Most often my in-box fills with work or spam or junk or more work - but the treat, when it is something more, makes me feel like a kid spelunking cracker jack boxes for the prize at the bottom.  I don’t know what I’ll get, I’ll get sticky hands and spill some on the floor, I’ll make a mess, but the prize pulls me in every time. I believe everyone, even if sitting still claiming to be happy about where they are, is either running away from something or toward something.   Why?   Because that’s the way these things work.   Mark Kolke 327,132    197.3

FROM MOST INNOCUOUS BEGINNINGS - Mark’s Musing Friday Nov. 6, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park   Morning walk: 10C/50F, big wind, big sky, big moon, big walk; Chinook winds (horrendous last night) have blown clouds and cool temps away, for now but not for long because that’s the way these things work; Gusta wanted to cross the street, pulling hard to meet that wire-haired terrier-something over there   Big pot of coffee ... so much to do before I start my day; work, rush, errands, work, rush, write, rush, push, pull - this post-vacation catching up period should end soon, right?   Building walls, perimeters, fences - to protect us, to keep us safe, to keep bad things (and people) out is as likely to produce safety and happiness as it is to generate rich friendship; while safety is important, being circumspect is wise, being protective seems safe . .   But without barriers in our minds, without barriers in our actions,  we chance the world. Without barriers we can reach out to others and they to us.  Without walls, or the perception of them, there are few boundaries we can’t cross, few chasms we can’t bridge, few ideas we can’t make better by teaming up with someone as collaborator, co-conspirator, lover or friend.  Deep in us, these needs override safety rules, get through red-tape and rules, leap the protocol divide and bring complete strangers together to become complete friends.   Knowing things for certain - improbable, impossible, not fitting any logic - knowing special things come from most innocuous beginnings, tiniest of moments when someone asks us to be a friend . . .   When that happens, who will you be?  Will you be friend, will you warm to it - or dismiss it as too risky, too improbable, too illogical, too ... hard to make work?  Too hard is not a term in my dictionary.  Too soon, too far, too much are not barriers to great relationships or great ideas ... and they are so much better than too little, too late, too bad, too inconvenient, too much water under the bridge or too much trouble.   Bernard Meltzer wrote: ‘A true friend is someone who thinks you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked.’   Lunching long yesterday with a rare (OK, medium-rare) musing-friend, SB, the man attached to that hand, the one that came knifing through a crowd to meet me five or six years ago accompanied with ‘I read Musings, I want to meet you’ ...    He’s not a guy’s guy jock buddy; he’s a decent sort, bit renaissance man in his own right with all the attachments of life .. friends, family, career, planned successes ... yet struggling to reduce to words, to themes, to a ‘working manifesto’ as he calls it of guidance on what to do next once his current break from work is over.   We talked about life, his wife, history and future, things that make us laugh, things that make us stop to take stock.  We talked about so many things.  Thanks for lunch.  It was great.   SB is one of many examples of friendships made through these daily writing, as well as friendships made deeper because of them (thanks for your note DS); oh my, lucky guy I am.  Friends.  Out of nowhere.  Who knew?  The mathematical improbability, the connecting of 2 dots our of 6+billion; the rest, who knows.   I learned a long time ago, that sometimes we just need to trust a process, to have faith that proven methods are proven methods - that while struggling through information, ideas and principles there will emerge a mantra, a plan, a path and a reason.   Why?   Because that’s the way these things work.   Gotta run now; work, tasks, errands and friends are waiting for me.   Mark Kolke 327,156 197.4

EXPECTATIONS AND DISSAPOINTMENT - Mark’s Musing Thursday Nov. 5, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park   Morning walk: -2C/27F, a later than usual walk; in daylight, it’s warming up, those white rabbits Gusta was sniffing after must be having doubts about their wardrobe choice but, with only two leaves left on that big ash tree down the street, winter’s real arrival can’t be too far off.   I’ve been thinking and speaking a lot lately about expectations - life expectancy, what we expect from life and about our expectations of self and others.   Expectations are the root of all evil, period.  OK, maybe not all evil.   Expectations, of change, in ourselves and in others is a bizarre construct. Everywhere I look I see evidence that we (most of us) are so easily tolerant of choices, changes and divergence in good people we scarcely know and of compete strangers - but, when it comes to people we are close to, a different approach seems to prevail in our society.    I’ve had a couple of divorces and several quasi-equivalent relationship challenges.  I’ve learned from them, but perhaps I’ve not learned enough yet.  I feel I am sufficient authority ONLY on my own point of view, but I’ll share it.  Perhaps others will agree. Or disagree and set me straight.   The challenge, is the ‘me’ vs. ‘we’ conundrum; wherein we struggle to be convinced that compromise, or not, is connected to depth of feeling.  Therefore, if it is, then the mind says that compromise cannot happen without an impact on depth of feeling.  The fear of ‘changes in our feelings, or someone else’s changes we dare not predict’ prevent or preclude the very dialogue that might produce compromise, understanding and a protection of those dear feelings rather than pose a threat to them.   Silence, keeping things bottled up, on the other hand is equally illogical because it presumes that not talking about expectations and changes will somehow preclude them being a problem.  I’m no head doctor or heart doctor, but I believe I’m right on this.   In my experience, changes of heart, changes of thinking, changes of plans and changes of direction are normal processes that evolve. They emerge from thoughtful reflection and reaction to circumstances - qualities we admire in most people we know and respect on its face in people we don’t.    The closer, I believe, someone is to us the less tolerant we are of their differences, their changes and their changes of heart.  Expectations are high, irrational, emotional and offer their share of surprises and disappointment.  I believe many people withhold talking about their change of ideas, feelings and choices for many reasons, but substantially because they fear the reaction of their counterpart to hearing those thoughts, ideas and changes.  From a stranger, easy listening.  From someone close, from someone where expectations of change are illogically and emotionally locked into a framework set up on the day someone said ‘I do’ .... doesn’t make sense.  In my retrospective view this rigidness and lack of communication is the root of most trouble.    Living with, or without, disappointment is a fictional creation of the mind; that is like living life only on two sidelines without venturing out on the field.   We expect, especially when mutually committed, that things will continue ‘as expected’ which is different from ‘unchanged’; as I’ve seen it play out in my own history it is code for ‘don’t change unless the change is OK with me!’ .... excepting of course for the exceptions, and there are always exceptions, the most common of which is the change we want to see in someone.    No matter how hard we try, wish, hope, beg or strategize - people don’t change much, they don’t change ‘the way we want/wish for’ very often and rarely change on a timetable that fits our needs.   The lesson, if there is one I’ve learned, is that shared vision is just that - shared vision, as opposed to a vision shared.  I can share my vision, my views, my dreams but that doesn’t mean someone’s understanding of mine in some way makes them theirs.   What I expect, what I want, what I get is not framed by the expectations, surprises and disappointments - but defined by them.   Oh yeah, .... to our UK friends, happy Guy Fawkes Day!   Mark Kolke 327,180    197.2

ALWAYS IS - Mark’s Musing Wednesday Nov. 4, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park   Morning walk: -5C/22F, light overcast, rosy hues on the horizon; Gusta quickened her heart rate and pace when that handsome springer spaniel pup jogged down the alley, his owner in tow, so it seems the by-product was that I quickened my pace too.   One thing leads to another things, one connection leads to another connection, one idea leads to another; it is not science, it is not art, it is the way paths form.   I like this quote: “There are two kinds of adventurers: those who go truly hoping to find adventure and those who go secretly hoping they won’t.” - Rabindranath Tagore   I’d like to think my mind is mostly in the first group.  Fatigue and discouraging results should be no excuse to move into the second group, ever.   Like most people, large portions of my days are filled with dull things, boring things, repetitive ‘must do’ things that support the activities that make blood hot and hearts beat fast.  The 80-20 rule surely applies, but 80% of our time is spent on things that must be done so the 20% can be available to pursue things that make our heart race. And, some days it seems 90-10 to me . .   Morning brew goes down easy, well-slept, I’m ready to tackle paper work-filled-day, too much administrative work for anyone’s good, some touring and preparing for a meeting tonight, sweating over a hot pencil, some smiling carried forward from yesterday’s 20%.  Two new things got me energized.  Neither have anything to do with my core business, or revenue. Both have to do with helping someone who needs it.  There is a message in that.  I’m neither rich or overly magnanimous - mostly, what I have to give is a little of my time and a few ideas. When I do, my energy level rises, my heart rate quickens and I am sure, just like Gusta, I quicken my pace.   Both little adventures could be nothing, go nowhere, amount to little or be a colossal (OK, so maybe I exaggerate sometime) .... perhaps a ‘substantial’ waste of time.  But I don’t thinks so.   Starting anything new, like moving a large stationery object, requires time and energy devoted to it (which means time and energy TAKEN from other things, taken from the 80%); like moving a big rock up a steep incline, the biggest part is deciding that ‘today is the day’ to try moving the rock at all.   Too easy to sit, mired in so many things that need time and attention - the ‘today’ urgencies, those ‘put off too long already’ tasks that hang around like a weight on top of an already heavy load.   There is work to be done, always is.   There are obligations to be fulfilled, overdue tasks to complete - always is.   There are opportunities in every day for adventure, venture, exploring, teaching, learning, trying, failing, trying again - always is.   If our focus, if my focus, is that the adventure can happen only once day’s tasks are done, there will be little room for adventuring and exploring.   If, on the other hand, I make room for fresh ideas, for being open to new adventures - to make it a part of my everyday thinking - then there will always be room for those opportunities, and there will always be incomplete work at the end of the day - always is.   Mark Kolke 327,204 196.8

GIVE ME A MOMENT - Mark’s Musing Tuesday Nov. 3, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park   Morning walk: 0C/32F, calm, mostly clear, exploring unfamiliar streets, Gusta happy for the variety because out-of-reach rabbits are so boring unless the scenery changes; I’m just happy my back is feeling better, early gym-trip (magic when cold wet shorts bring spring steps and summer simmer back to mind) proved so much better than the day before.    Frenetic start yesterday, then a trip with my dad to the cardiac clinic (check-up went well), then back to back to back meetings, back to back to back ideas today - I dream for a rainy spring day, I get a brilliant fall one instead.  That works.   Give me clear, uncomplicated and brief . . the opposite me.  Two themes wrestling, not sure which I'll use.  I am churning over a couple of things I'd like to write. If/when they gel. I'll drop you a note once I've made a decision.   Is this how water feels?   At 0C/32F it must be so confused, a step away from warming - or icy hardness, schizoid moisture . .. arggghh . . so much simpler to be a brain that can move from icy-cold to steamy hot in a thought moment.   If I was water, on cusp of freezing, I’d be wondering what steam feels like. Imagine water, ice and steam in sweaty chat: “What do you have in mind?” , “A moment, in reality, just a moment; in the mind, so much more.” .....“Nothing in particular...just seems we haven't connected.”   Life’s juiciest fruit, writ on lined pages, scrawled in margin notes where the gritty grotty powerful stuff lands.  I write alone, in quiet mostly. Lately, I’ve been using soothing music for polishing part-finished work; it seems to round rough edges better, but for raw material, give me quiet, give me alone, give me darkness, give me .. a moment.   Moments, like dialogue, fall from somewhere - gesture, accidental connection, moment of consideration; cause pause, for a moment, to smile.  Or laugh. Or yell.  Or cry. Or fly into some fit of rage or tangent of fantasy angst, or into action.  Joy in life isn’t brought in big packages, delivered by UPS, take months, weeks or full days; in my view, in my experience, in my life, it comes in these moments...   Light-on-feet moments, clouds move revealing rainbows, someone soft stays that way or someone hard lightens up; savory moments. mouthful of unending deliciousness . . great in the moment, better in memory, a galaxy of beauty in unlived imagination.    Let me explain it to you sometime - just give me a moment.   Mark Kolke 327,228 197.0

HIT SEND - Mark’s Musing Monday Nov. 2, 2009

today’s Musing  written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park   Morning walk: 0C/32F, full moon’s remnant hanging low, cloud shrouded on west horizon, clear sky fore-warning beautiful sunrise; Gusta’s scent stimulating lap-yap pups inside fences to wake sleepy neighbors, prompting alley rabbits (mostly white now . . do they know something the weatherman doesn’t?) to scoot well ahead of us.   Sending to the right person or wrong person is merely a small detail of any message.     Have you hit send, only to find you’ve sent a message that read wrongly, was incomplete or truncated?  Rarely, that ‘momentary mortification’ is an irreversible error. Usually, we send a follow-up ‘oops’ message explaining the error, fix it - move on, forget, over, done.   Right? But what if the message, right or wrong, gets sent to the wrong address?  Wrong person.  Double Oops.    Did you ever catch/receive a slice of someone’s life by accident?    This morning, moments after I opened it, I realized that someone’s accidental click of a mouse sent someone else’s e-mail to me.  It’s not my story to re-tell, so I won’t. But, there is a lesson here, I’ll try to learn from it ...   The importance of the carefully crafted message, its impact, its heat, its cold, its rhythm and power - so correctly sent, to be so accurately received - would seem to be the essence of clear communication.    Take then, the reverse; hastily crafted message, sent in error to the wrong person.  OK, at first a chuckle. Then a smile.  Then a deeper appreciation of new information, out of context certainly, but not to be ignored, or forgotten.  Perhaps a deeper message/reminder that unintended consequences of ‘out of context actions’ can change things, change people, change events.  Not to be dramatic, but aren’t history books littered with this phenomenon?   But do we get it right?  Rarely. Often.  Who knows with any certainty?  Impact, of any message, is the important part.  The message was not for me. But, having read it, it had an impact on me. I can hit delete or reply or dispose of it in some way, but the impact cannot be undone, should not be undone.  So much learned, my understanding of the sender, someone I scarcely know, has grown.  I can’t throw that away.  Wouldn’t want to.   Take a minute, or an hour; capture the events of that slice of your day ... now hit send.  How bizarre, or how normal, would that be?  Would everyone understand, know, feel, appreciate - what you are experiencing?    Some things never change, but that doesn’t stop us from trying . . . the sameness/saneness of every day is like a blanket to comfort us from the chaos of every day, the randomness of impact from whatever happens next, real or imagined, intended or bizarrely random or a message sent in error - is that not the essence of chaos?   Voyeuristic glimpse into lives of people I don’t know, into events I don’t understand and circumstances I might never appreciate.  Yet, it’s like opening a book somewhere in the middle and catching a scene, like channel-surfing in someone’s life.   Does that also mean that something meant for me has also been sent to the wrong address, floating out there, in someone else’s in-box? No matter, the point is not that we send messages in error - but that those messages could represent a cross-section, a slice, of anyone’s life.  We are all unique - yes we are, our experiences are unique - but let’s not kid ourselves; we are all humans living a life.  What could we possibly experience that someone else might not? What could we possibly feel that someone else might not feel?   Good morning - welcome to you, today, welcome, you ravishing ravaging chamber of joys and horrors, please me, treat me, tickle me and punish me . . just reach out and grab me; I so WANT to be taken - all the way to tomorrow, then taken again, then had again, and again, and again.   Each day is a puzzle for us to muddle through . . often without all the pieces.   I write to capture something; a moment of my life, or a slice of someone else’s day, a peak at a conversation’s animation or taking some page out of context, pulling a paragraph out of nowhere.  Still, there is a sense that all is real, feelings are genuine, that they represent the way things are, or at least the way things were . .   Mark Kolke 327,252 198.6