Tag Archives: Contemplate

The Kettle Conundrum


Why a stove top kettle when electric ones are so much faster and cheaper?


This question had first been posed to me a few months ago, and when I took a moment to polish the kettle which had become a target for all the splatters that my well-used stove-top collects over time, I found myself revisiting the question.

Life has this way of packing every moment of each day full of things that we seem to have no choice but to do. Chores, responsibilities, work… they pile up and pile up, leaving us feeling like we’ve run out of time; that one resource that we never seem to have enough of. We spend our time, and often we feel as though we really have no choice in the manner of our spending. Our day starts and we allot two minutes to the brushing of teeth, ten minutes to the eating of breakfast, five minutes to staring aimlessly into our closet and fifteen minutes to a shower. We slice up, and block out our days into little segments, and when it’s all said and done we bemoan the way in which we were forced to chop it up and utilize the meager little slivers we are left with after the main responsibilities are taken care of Continue reading The Kettle Conundrum

Taking the time for…

Soul Maintenance

Every so often, the hands of time revolve and return me to a set of circumstances, to a state of being that I know so well, and yet manage to ignore far too often. I find myself inexplicably feeling empty, even though my life is full and I am happy. It’s not because of some fault in the world around me, but rather because I am neglecting something that is a part of who I am, and without it I begin to feel incomplete.

No matter how incredible life is, no matter how many crazy things I’ve done in a day, how many rainbows I’ve seen or waterfalls I’ve swam under, I need to sit down and just for a little while, reconnect with my soul. Continue reading Taking the time for…

An open letter to the one who dreams of seeing the world


My dear,

You won’t necessarily enjoy it, that abrupt jolt away from everything that is comfortable and familiar, some don’t. Being surrounded by a different culture, a different way of life, a different language. It might frighten you; even change you. Change is dangerous, unpredictable, addicting and thrilling.

That which you take for granted will no longer be the norm. The world you thought you knew will become tiny and insignificant in comparison to the one that you were truly born into.
If you like everything in your world to be familiar and orderly, it will shake it. Continue reading An open letter to the one who dreams of seeing the world

Am I wrong, because you’re right?


Your world is defined by that which you accept as truth. Whether it is the things you were taught in school, or by your parents; information gleaned through experiences or as is often the case, formed by the religions, belief systems and societies we grow up in.

Do you know your box? Do you know what it is made from? Do you know why you believe what you believe… and who you believe? How do you choose who and what is true? Continue reading Am I wrong, because you’re right?

Another way to skin a cat….

home-158089_640It’s a commonly accepted fact that with maturity comes obligations and limitations. You grow up, you get a job so you can be tied to a mortgage, you settle down, get married, pay for a wedding you can’t afford and with every child you become a little more indebted until you are so entrenched you cannot escape. This is normal.

I’m told repeatedly, it’s a good thing you are having your adventures now… seeing the world while you can. The implication is always hovering that there is some kind of time limit after which my life will simply cease to exist. As if it is inevitable that at some point I will walk down that path, a willing sacrifice, and end it all. How abysmal.

No thanks. I mean really… It’s like saying that when you turn 23 and 7 months you’re never again allowed to eat chocolate. Utterly ludicrous. Though if it were a commonly accepted practice in society, people would simply stop eating chocolate at age 23 and 7 months. Insanity.

I’m not saying that I don’t want to have a family or fall in love, I just don’t want to do it the way it’s always done.

There is more than one way to skin a cat, and I intend to find one that leaves the cat alive and happy in the end. Or perhaps we’ll just avoid skinning the cat at all, I’ve always felt a little sorry for the poor thing. It deserves a new metaphor… :P

I want a life that doesn’t end in virtual slavery. We live in a world of boundless possibilities and just because something is ‘normal’, that doesn’t mean it is right.

Come on, I mean if that were the case we’d still be burning witches at the stake and bleeding out fevers.

So call me crazy if you like, I really don’t mind. But if I shouldn’t settle for just any man, why should I settle for just any ol’ life?


Latte with Honey


I often find that the moments in life that strike me the hardest are the little ones. I said goodbye to someone today, not an individual that I know extremely well, but a regular customer at work that won’t be back until I’m gone. You wouldn’t think that I would be affected by this, after all I only see him for mere moments during the course of the week. Yet, as I shook his hand goodbye I felt unaccountably sad… Through our brief conversations he had become someone I appreciated, valued, and looked forward to.

It’s not the big gestures, the gifts you give or your material value that affects people in your life the most. It is how you treat them on a day to day basis; whether or not you show them respect, look down your nose at them or act like they don’t exist. It all matters. You might think that it’s ok to treat the grocery store clerk like he’s beneath you or snarl at the barista because you’re having a bad day. What can they really do about it? Chances are they won’t remember you the next day anyway. Perhaps they won’t, unless you leave an impression that stands out from the crowd, but what they will remember is how you made them feel. Despite what anyone does for a living, you cannot possibly know what they had to go through to make it to that job that day, or what they are hiding behind their own smiles, snarls or silence. Every person is worth as much as the next, and as such is owed no less respect than you would give the person you love most.

You might only see them for a moment, but that small interaction is more than enough.

I had originally planned to make this upcoming trip to Ecuador a year ago but due to circumstances it never happened. If I had gone, the list of people I would have missed would have been a short one. In the last year I’ve had the chance to meet some of the most exceptional people, and I wish there was some way to show them just how much the opportunity to be a small part of their lives has meant to me. So. To every one of you who brightens my days with your smiles, cheeky winks and riotous stories… I love you. No joke, no exaggeration. You are a beautiful person – I couldn’t feel anything less than love for you. Never give up your ability to make people smile, it is without a doubt one of the greatest gifts you can be blessed with.

I hope that I will always remember just how much these fleeting moments have affected my days; whether I’m scraping by at the bottom of the barrel or ruling the country – I want to remember that a kind word and a smile are so much more likely to change this world than a bitter complaint or scathing remark. I want to be the kind of customer, friend and co-worker whose arrival is looked forward to, not dreaded!

Until we meet again.

With love,




You’re sitting in an empty room. Nothing but you and four stark white walls staring back at you. Nothing but the sound of your own breathing to keep you company. No television to distract you from the world, no music to drown out your thoughts. No one to tell you how you should feel or what you should think. You’re no longer the clothes that you wear, or the style of your hair. There is nothing to define you but the essence of your soul.

There, in that empty room — who are you?



On Being Strong

Barre de fer dans la forge

There are an endless supply of definitions for the word ‘strength’ but the one I like, the one I’m going to base this post on, is this:

Strength is the inherent capacity to manifest energy, to endure, and to resist.

To endure. To persevere. To fight through that which threatens to overpower you.

The overpowering force in your life might be depression, anxiety, fear. Fear of loss. Fear of spiders. Fear of failure. It might be stress, another person’s will – or the urge to collapse when you have that one last terrible push-up to do.

But to endure is to succeed. To endure is to grow. To endure is to become stronger.

Strength can only come from finding your limits, and pushing past them. Again and again and again.

Strength will never be purely physical; there are many with incredible strength of body, it does not guarantee that they also possess strength of mind. True strength is shown in those who have been tried and tested and, pardon the metaphor, forged in the flames of struggle and adversity.

Beyond admiring those who were stronger than myself I never really thought much about strength until recently. I assumed that physical strength was beyond me and had the rather terrible tendency to accept my limitations, mental, physical and emotional.

Over the last year I lost a decent amount of weight; the result should have been contentment with my body. It should have made me happy. Skinny is good. Fat is bad…. right?

Some rather intelligent individual reminded me that there is a difference between being ‘scrawny’ and being fit. He brought me an entirely new awareness of what it really means to be strong. And oddly, for me, an intense desire to find my own strength. I’m not sure that anything feels as satisfying as realizing that you can do something today that you couldn’t do yesterday. To feel muscle where once there was nothing more than flesh holding you limply together. To be sweating your butt off in a room full of people and know that six months before you would have been too mortified by the thought to even consider it. To stand your ground even when it’s the very last thing you want to do.

Strength. Even in small doses, even if the difference isn’t noticeable to anyone but yourself – even then, it’s a heady wonderful feeling. I’m still working on exactly what it means, but what I do know is that I want it.

Besides, I have to admit, strength is sexy; whether it’s conviction of character or the ability to carry me with one arm. So overcome. Endure. Stick to your guns (pun intended), whatever they may be, because you can bet that I’m going to stick to mine.