December 6th

My life got pretty hectic after my return from Barbados (more on that later), so I didn’t get to post this on Monday when I wanted to.


Every year December 6th rolls around and I am overwhelmed at the passage of time. It has been 21 years since the massacre at Poly in 1989. I can’t believe an entire generation has gone by since then, but I am reminded of that fact every year when I see notices going up around the U of T campus for ‘memorial services’ for the fourteen women who lost their lives that day, and realize that most of the students walking by were not even born at that time.

Fourteen women whose lives were cut short and whose loss is still felt:

Geneviève Bergeron
Hélène Colgan
Nathalie Croteau
Barbara Daigneault
Anne-Marie Edward
Maud Haviernick
Maryse Laganière
Maryse Leclair
Anne-Marie Lemay
Sonia Pelletier
Michèle Richard
Annie St-Arneault
Annie Turcotte
Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz


I was university student at McGill the year they were killed. Most of my friends were engineers, and although I didn’t know any of these women personally, I knew several people who did. In the years since I have found that there were few degrees of separation between people my age in Montreal at that time and these women. It was never hard to find someone who knew one of them. In some ways the massacre was the most important event in the life of my hometown to have occurred in my lifetime.

Which is why I find I cannot attend ‘memorial’ services here in Toronto for these women. There are very few, if any, people in attendance who were even born when these women were killed. Fewer were living in Montreal at the time. Fewer who had any personal experience with the loss of these fourteen women. Instead, people of good intention have taken their deaths and made memorializing them into something more – with a very broad brush, their deaths have now become symbols of man’s violence against all women.


I don’t disagree with the need to shine a spotlight on violence against women, and the role men have played and continue to play in fostering an environment that allows this violence to take place. My problem -- and it is my problem, no one else’s – is that in using a memorial for these women to shine that much needed light, the organizers have often forgotten the fact that these were fourteen living breathing women who had incredible lives in front of them. At most of the memorials I have attended here in Toronto, these fourteen women are grouped with many other victims of violence, and become almost anonymous. There is nothing to distinguish them from all the other victims of violence. Maybe that's the point the organizers are trying to make. But that's not what I think a memorial for them should be about.

I didn’t know Genevieve or Barbara or Michèle. But their deaths had a specific impact on me and my life. I can’t go to a memorial that forgets their lives in a quest to make everyone aware of ALL of the bad things that men do to women everyday.

So, I spent a part of this December 6th remembering that day in 1989 when I heard the news of what one crazy man could do, and I hope that the people these women left behind have somehow been able to mourn and accept the loss that was forced on them.

21 years… Please remember them.

Patience

I had a lot of fun today helping out at our school's in-house tournament. Everyone put on a really great performance and I was really glad to see that many were putting into practice the lessons they had learned.

The one lesson I saw best expressed was the value of patience: knowing how to wait, to let things unfold and seize the moment when appropriate is an important lesson to learn on the mat, and it is very applicable to 'regular' life.

Too often, we are rushing through our lives, always trying to get to the next thing, always trying to get to the next level, to pass the car in front of us, to get the promotion, to land the big whale...

To be patient is hard, and actually requires confidence in yourself, and sometimes trust in others. You have to know that what you are doing is going to work, or that you will be able to adapt and correct if it goes wrong. You see this on the mat with students who have developed enough experience to start believing in their abilities, and to start to see what is happening in a sparring match. Sparring can be incredibly frightening when you first start, and to the novice will often seem to go by in the blink of an eye. But the more you do it, the more experience you gain and the more hours you put into training, the slower sparring becomes. It is very cool the day that you step into a ring, and you see what your opponent is doing, where they are going, and everything seems to be moving in slow motion.

I've seen the value of patience expressed in my personal life, as well as my professional one. It is one of the great gifts of my training, and I hope others find it as well -- and maybe I'll have a role in bringing that out.

Congrats to all the competitors today, everyone did really well.

Mastery

As part of our school's training for black belts, we are asked to read Joe Hyams' Zen in the Martial Arts. It's a great book for aspiring martial artists, and has helped many people over the years at the school.

However, I think I am going to recommend that our black belt candidates (especially the adults) also read this book by George Leonard. My main training partner for my second degree lent me his copy, which he had been given by a friend of his whose father had trained with George Leonard in California.

George Leonard was a pilot in WWII, an instructor in the US Air Force, a writer, editor and educator as well as being a fifth degree black belt in aikido. He wrote several books on education, psychology and the martial arts and died in January 2010 at the age of 86.

Mastery lays out, in a few short chapters, some fundamental principles for the development of successful traits, and lessons on how to deal with the ups and downs of a life devoted to mastery. I think its a great book not just for martial artists (although it is directed mostly at that audience), but to anyone who is interested in dedicating themselves to a lifetime of personal development. I said a lifetime of personal development because (as this book points out quite well) that's a wonderful definition of mastery.

Mastery is not a destination you get to, but rather a path that you walk. A 'master' is not accorded the respect they deserve because they can do things that others can't, but rather because they have committed themselves to achieving all that they can, and devote their lives to doing so. They also recognize that there is always something to learn, and are always willing to change and evolve.

The book illustrates the central problem of mastery -- the plateau. Everyone who has ever trained at something, or tried to improve at something eventually encounters the feeling that they are no longer getting any better: they've hit a point where they keep going at the same level, and can't seem to change or improve. They have plateaued. The book makes the argument that how different people deal with this situation is what differentiates masters from dabblers, hackers and obsessives.

I really enjoyed the book. It's not the answer to everything, and doesn't pretend to be. But for someone who is interested in walking a path that will go on for the rest of their life, it is an interesting perspective on the challenges that you will face on this journey.

Thanksgiving

Just as Fall is my favorite season, Thanksgiving has become one of my favorite holidays. Maybe it's my time living in the States, where November's Thanksgiving is such an event (compared to Canada), but I've come to appreciate the enjoyment of food and family that comes with this particular holiday. The air is just crisp enough, the leaves are on their way to full colour and the food is always the best of the year. (Usually I get to do this all again in November but not this year).

I've also grown particularly attached to the sentiment of the season. As I've grown older I have become more grateful for the blessings I have -- a wonderful wife, two incredible (and completely unique) sons, a healthy extended family, a good job, great friends, and a vocation of teaching and training that has transformed my life. So I am thankful for all my good fortune.

And as a way of showing my gratitude to the people who matter most to me, I cook for my family tonight. My son with the gourmet palate had some suggestions, and I am happy to oblige him:

Fresh Figs, Spiced Olives, Serrano Ham, Soprasetta, Cheese: (Guinness Cheddar, Stilton, Gruyere, and La Sauvagine)

Spicy fish soup with toasted croutons

Pan Roasted Duck Breast w/Apple and Cranberry Stuffing

Roasted Butternut Squash Risotto

Steamed Greens

Apple Pie (bought and borrowed, as my talents lie elsewhere)



To all those in my life who bless me with their gifts of love, joy and gratitude -- I thank you. Happy Thanksgiving.

Summer Project: Shed

Fall is by far my favorite season, and this year I get to spend some time this season reflecting on what I got accomplished this summer. Here it is:

My wife thought I was nuts. Or at least going way overboard in terms of how I built it, given its uses. To her a shed shouldn't be a massive structure occupying the backyard (of course I don't think it's really that big -- it's definitely taller than most sheds, but that's by design to make use of the vertical height for storage.) Also, and here she is quite justified, I spent way more on this then it would cost to purchase a pre-fab shed and throw it up in the back yard. But all of those that I looked at were pretty flimsy, and not worth the cost.

It's an 8'x8' structure, built on a frame of large pressure treated timbers that are elavated on 4' concrete piers set in the ground at the corners. I nailed 5/8ths t'n'g plywood overtop of the timbers for a floor and framed it with conventional 2x4's sheathed with 5/8ths t'n'g plywood. Basically I built it just like a house -- I don't think I'm ever going to get to build a house on my own, so this little project let me play carpenter one last time.

The exterior is Hardi board siding and PVC trim, painted a nice gray with Sico exterior paint. This makes the whole thing rot, mold and insect resistant, and it should look essentially the same for the next 25 years.


I framed up the floating panel doors out of scraps left over from construction and built the ramp out of pressure treated lumber and painted it with exterior floor paint.

I wrapped the pressure treated timber foundation with more PVC trim and painted that with the exterior paint, so I can push dirt, gravel or mulch up against it and not worry about rot or insects.

Inside, there is plenty of storage and I laid 16 inch square rubber tiles to keep the plywood floor clean and dry. They are much nicer to look at than dirty plywood.

Under the timber foundation I left a good air space for ventilation, and covered the area with half inch gravel and weed barrier to keep anything from growing down there. I also banged on about 8 inches of chicken wire to the bottom of the timbers around the perimeter, and buried the wire mesh to keep most critters from making a home under the shed (I didn't want anything crawling under and dying).

It took me most of the summer to get this done. I started the second week of July, and spent the better part of most weekends until Labour Day working on it. My 12 year old son helped on a few things (raising the walls, holding the plywood sheathing, putting on the house wrap, banging on the fascia, and any time I needed another set of hands.)

I am very pleased with the results and it has made a huge difference to the storage in our garage: I now have all the winter tires in the shed, all the garden tools, lawn mower, wheel barrow and space left over for the patio furniture (which used to stay outdoors all winter). I rationalize the cost (both financial, time and opportunity) knowing that this will be here for a generation.

I also get the satisfaction of knowing that I built something with care and attention, while trying to balance all the other demands on my time. This project though made me appreciate how quickly the summer can pass, and how much time with the family I sacrificed in order to build it. I've committed myself to the idea that I won't undertake any project now that will take more than one weekend to complete during the summer -- I want to focus on the family, and I think if I put as much effort into that, as I did into building this shed then we'll be pretty happy.

Belts

Belts (in the martial arts), are milestones -- not destinations.

(Belts (in fashion) are often wonderful accessories, but I'm no expert. My best friend is, so check out his blog)

I often see students at our school (and elsewhere) get very focused on their belt:

• "which one do I have?";
• "which one's next?";
• "oh! I got a black belt!";
• "I'm ready for my next belt!";
• "why didn't I get my next belt?"...

When you view your belt (and a black belt especially) as a destination, it can become an object of desire. From this perspective the belt becomes a commodity, or item to get. And this is guaranteed to eventually be a path to unhappiness... (a Buddhist tenet is that the root of all suffering is desire)

Sometimes the difficulty with language is that we don't have the words to describe what we mean. 'On the path to black belt' or 'We are a black belt school', could be taken to mean that actually getting the piece of cloth, or annually awarding a piece of cloth, means that the piece of cloth is what you want.

The truth (or my truth anyways) is much different. I believe that the study of the martial arts is a lifetime thing, an alltime thing, not a sometime thing and not 'get the next belt' kinda thing.

From this perspective, any belt (but a black belt especially) is a milestone, a mark of accomplishment, but not a destination. I can't desire it as a physical thing, because what it actually is, is a sign of my continued evolution as a person and a martial artist. Our school has many belts, for many reasons.

• They provide students with an opportunity to set goals.
• They provide instructors with some sense of what a student should (?) know.
• They provide markers for changes in curriculum, and help organize classes.

But that's all they are. What people should desire, is not an object, but the opportunity to embrace continuous change. Everytime I step on the mat, I have a chance to remake myself. I don't need a belt to remind me of that fact, and sometimes it actually interferes with it. I sometimes think that because I've been teaching at the school for three years, that people now have a hard time thinking of me as a student -- but that's ultimately what I am.

I've also noticed that more often than not, the people who view the belt as a destination, are the ones who stop showing up to train once they've got their black belt. They achieved their goal, and find it hard to put it in perspective.

My hope is that our school is a school for black belts, not one where people get pieces of cloth. But that's up to the students who train here. I know what it is that we are trying to do.

As one of my favorite instructors says "Are you a black belt, or are you some one who has a belt that is black?"...

Negative Energy

Sometimes I feel sorry for the people in the world who only have negative energy to share. Well, maybe they have positive energy, but it only seems like they want to share their negative sphere.

I pulled into a parking spot on the street behind our dojang this evening and the man playing hockey with his son on the other side of the road began to castigate me for getting too close to his bumper. I understand why it looked like I did, but I was actually quite far from it. What seemed to make things worse was the fact that I was wearing a hoodie with our club logo on it. That really upset him, as he seems to feel wronged by the increased numbers of cars that park on his street now that the dojang is next door. We've been there for almost three years, but still he holds onto his resentment and wants to lash out whenever he can. I felt sorry for him, and said I was sorry for the trouble he felt we had caused him, but he didn't want to hear it.

I can almost understand where he is coming from. We have disrupted his life, and he needs to express that frustration. Unfortunately, he has never tried to figure out a positive way of dealing with it. Hopefully he doesn't feel the need to take his hockey stick to my car the next time he sees it.

It is always easy to feel hurt, and anger and fear at the unknown, or at changes that we feel forced into. But most of the time, all that is required is for us to change our perspective on the event and we can then try and put positive energy behind it.

Maybe I will figure out something that we can do for the man to help him release these negative feelings. Most likely though, I will choose to ignore his negative waves. Who wants to live like that?