I watched this TED talk this past week about retrofitting the suburbs .  I particularly liked it over other documentaries on suburbia because it wasn’t so nihilistic and the speaker, Ellan Dunham Jones, offered some inventive solutions to make the suburbs more sustainable.

I grew up in the suburbs. I understand what life’s like out there: The boring, summer days as an adolescent. The hyper-dependence on vehicles. Getting lost biking around clusters of identical neighbourhoods. Day by day, I heavily consumed resources and bloated my carbon footprint, not knowing any better. Though as times changed, traffic accumulated and gas prices skyrocketed, I was accepted into a university in the city, and it made sense to leave the suburbs.

A few months ago, I missed a turn while heading out on a ski trip, and my GPS led me through my old neighbourhood. I almost drove completely right through it before I recognized where I was. After allowing the nostalgia to hit me like five Red Bulls, I pulled over and stepped out to soak it in slower. All the surrounding farms had been replaced by rows upon rows of identical houses. The roads were widened two or threefold. The old mall was leveled long ago in lieu of a big box store shopping center.

I couldn’t believe how much had changed. I can’t say if it was for the better, because my old neighbourhood has become a model for urban sprawl these days, but it was a change nonetheless. Unfortunately, as seen in the TED Talk, in parts of North America where the local economies were not strong, many suburban neighbourhoods suffered mass migration over time and eventually became ghost towns.

As the talk progressed, it became more interesting as Ellan Dunham Jones illustrated how suburbs, abandoned or not, could be retrofitted to either become more sustainable, usable, or livable. She showed how to positively adapt to change. Here’s how you can too.

1. Simplify. I’m going to move out from my current apartment soon because my neighbours constantly fight, it distracts me, and I’m allergic to drama. Usually, I dislike moving, but this time around, it’s not so bad. I live rather austerely, so there isn’t much to move, and I like my neighbourhood, so I already know where to move to. The way I see it, the more complicated you make your life, the more anchored to where you are, and the more vulnerable you are when things change.

2. Accept Change. Resistance is the bane of adaptation. It’s like travelling to another country and expecting people to understand English if you speak slowly with wild hand gestures. If you’ve lost a job, someone in your life, or just don’t friggin’ know what you want to do with your life, then you can’t challenge the status quo until you accept your current life situation.

3. Expect Change. Understand that change will come, whether you like it or not. People will come and go in your life. The world will evolve. You will get old. Don’t live in fear of it. You don’ t need to stock up a nuclear bunker for whatever fallout might happen, but you do need to be mentally prepared to handle whatever change comes your way.

4.  Keep Your Chin Up. In my case, I eventually had to leave the suburbs and go to university in the city. The youthful excitement of being a student in the city outweighed any mild new-to-the-city-I’m-from-the-suburbs inconveniences such as lugging groceries on the streetcar or egads, walking everywhere. And who says change has to bad? Whatever happened to that youthful excitement? As we get older, we tend to become implanted in our lifestyle, and finding excitement amidst change becomes incredibly difficult. In fact, change is a downright  fear to most.

It’s important then, that no matter what happens, that you seek an opportunity or a learning experience with each change. So get creative with your thinking and really find the golden egg hidden within the bad.

5. Observe How Nature Does It.  Nature. Really?  I know in light of what I’ve written about suburbia, it seems like we’ve destroyed Nature.  But I have a fascination with observing how Nature survives:  Spotting a seedling sprouting through a crack in the asphalt. Reading about a 10,000 year old tree in the cold tundra.  Learning how superweeds evolve to resist all that we throw at them (Tip: Go Organic).  Seeing how Nature has rapidly reclaimed Pripryat, the city closest to the Chernobyl nuclear disaster.  As much as we’ve thrown at Nature, it’s still survived. And when humankind has come and gone, Nature will reclaim her space faster than you think.

6. Want Change. As mentioned above, change leads to discomfort. Discomfort is bad. It makes you stick out. It makes you vulnerable.  It makes you leave The Matrix. So instead, we fantasize about what we want and then say “Someday”. (Think you have it bad? Go to Japan and it’s more like “maybe in the next life”).  It’s easier to blend in, live safely in suburbia, and have a routine, than to be constantly on the go. Many of us want change though – that’s why you’re reading this post, right?

So start with an inner revolution. This is the fire in the belly that will drive you to fulfill your purpose. It can’t just be a quick kerosene fire, a “cool idea” that starts and ends in the span of a lunch conversation. The fire you want has to be hot, smoldering coals, long-burning and difficult to put out, so that when life changes appear in ups and downs, you have the heart to persevere.

7. Ride The Waves Of Change. If you’ve checked off all of the above, then it’s time to ride the waves of change. You’ve adapted to the changes thrown at you. You’re a hero to yourself.  But then again, who says you have to adapt? What’s the point of always adapting to an unsatisfactory situation or to the will of others? You’re the captain now, so chart your own course.

8. Create Change. You can create the change you want , or like Ghandhi once said, “Be the change you wish to see in the world”. I love, love, love that quote. Want to realize bigger-than-life accomplishments? Again, take that fire-in-the-belly passion from point 5 and convert it into ACTION. Don’t wait for circumstances to become unbearable before you budge. Anticipate and act in advance.

Once change becomes the norm for you, you’ve entered a very, very special sanctuary most people never see in their lives. You’re functioning proactively, not reactively. Instead of sitting in traffic complaining about gas costs, you’re designing next generation electric vehicles or public transportation. Instead of bitching about how you lost a document you forgot to save using old-school software, you’ve upgraded to autosaving cloud documents.  You become the leader, not the follower.

“The only constant in time is change.”

Parting Thoughts

This is how life works. Change constantly comes in cycles of good and bad, success and failure, gain and loss. You can’t have one without the other.  Change is integral to life. Resisting change, therefore, is resisting the flow of life, which only leads to self-inflicted drama: feelings of guilt, loss, anxiety, or frustration.  If you offer resist resistance, you’ll just find yourself complaining more and more about what is, become more miserable with each passing day, or worse, live in a state of constant fear or depression.

So just as some suburbs thrive then deteriorate, you too will experience up and down cycles. We can either allow our lives to become wastelands of abandoned big box stores and deserted parking lots, or we can convert them into functional, thriving living spaces.

The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.

- George Bernard Shaw

Today, I’m going to take a break from my usual run of topics and just write about the most delicious foods I’ve eaten abroad.  Although I’ve indulged in some strange things on the road, from roasted Peruvian guinea pig (cuy) to munching on Cambodian crickets, I’ve discovered that the most delicious foods are actually pretty common fare.

However, I am going to exclude deep-fried foods on my list. I’ve had my fair share of international deep-fried delicacies, whether it be deep fried pork rinds cooked in an oil drum in Chihuahua, Mexico or Rántott Camembert, Hungarian deep-fried Camembert cheese accompanied by mayo dip served on a bed of fries, which as the heart attack inducing description suggests, should only be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. As one might expect, all the above don’t differ much from the typical carnival run of artery cloggers back at home - deep-fried butter, deep-fried mars bars, deep-fried mac & cheese – or just plain old french fries.

These days, it seems that everyone is discovering that deep frying (or adding bacon) seems to make everything delicious, but I beg to differ in my list. Note that the list is biased as I don’t really have a sweet tooth, so all those New York cupcake joints and Mexican churros street carts won’t make the cut.  I’ve also gone vegetarian in recent years, so there might be less meat dishes on my list.  As always, I welcome new additions in the comments, because I’m sure I’ve missed a lot.  Without further ado, here’s what I remember as pretty darn tasty from my travels.

Tom Yum Goong (Thailand) – A whirlwind of sweet, sour, umami, and definitely spicy flavours in one gulp, this yummy soup (no pun intended) really packs a tantalizing punch with each spoonful.  Vegetarians, the mushroom version is just as good.

Paneer Makhani (India) – Most people either think of Indian food as really spicy or stick to butter chicken, which is everywhere albeit rightfully popular if done well.  Since I’m a vegetarian, I prefer paneer makhani, which uses cheese cubes instead of meat.  Sometimes, it’s the same masala sauce as butter chicken or chana masala (chick peas), though I’ve had versions of the tomato-based cream sauce that’s sweeter and not as spicy.

Tapas (Spain) - I’m being a bit general here, because tapas can include anything since it’s really a bunch of small dishes, making it much like Chinese dim sum or Japanese izakaya.   As such, the quality can vary dramatically among restaurants, but if you find the right joint (usually the tapas aren’t rolling around a conveyor belt, a la Japanese sushi-style), it’s a real treat!

Pad Thai (Thailand) – Easily found on street stalls outside Bangkok’s malls or anywhere street-side Thailand for that matter, Thailand’s pad thai is not the fast food ketchup-y noodles we usually encounter back at home.  The vegetarian version is just as great as the uber-popular chicken pad thai.  The best part? I got to share my busy roadside table with a lady boy in Bangkok, for a crème de la crème Thai experience.

Har Gow (Hong Kong) – Chinese dim sum, or the bit-sized dishes served morning to noon, is much like Spanish tapas.  The most popular dish  probably has to be har gow (shrimp dumplings).  This one by far was my childhood fave.  I could list a ton of other dim sum dishes as my faves, but if I was introducing someone to the cuisine, har gow would be come first.  Siu mai, pork and shrimp dumplings often served alongside har gow, would probably be a distant second.

Pho (Vietnam) – pronounced “Fuh” and not commonly mistaken “Foe”, the slow-cooked broth of this Vietnamese noodle soup tastes like it’s been made with patient, loving care.  In fact, it takes so much time, that most Vietnamese opt to eat out whenever they get the pho craving.  You should too.  Don’t cut yourself short an order just the beef ball version.  The house special with all the trimmings is the way to go.  Fortunately, if you live in a city with a large Vietnamese population, this is one dish that is typically done well by at least one restaurant.

Iskendar Kebap (Turkey) - This was the standout dish for me when I travelled in Turkey.  I believe Kayseri has an excellent restaurant specializing in Iskendar Kebap, though I missed out on it since I went during Ramadan and spent my nights hanging out in a mosque with locals.

 

Fruit Shake (Thailand) – If there’s one way to escape the heat in Thailand aside from ducking into an air-conditioned mall, it would be to grab a fresh fruit shake off the street.  Exotic fruits such as durian, soursoup, dragon fruit, avocado, and jackfruit are abundant and local to boot.  Durian, which has a smell and flavour not loved by all, is actually more palatable in a fruit shake form.  I might just be putting this one on the list because of it’s relative delight in the searing heat, or the fact that at Thai prices, I can afford to drink them all day long.

Steamed Garoupa (Hong Kong) – Fish is usually seared in a pan or baked in an oven most places I go, but in Hong Kong, it’s  steamed in a wok.  The result is a surprisingly moist, melt-in-your-mouth dish that will have you craving it again within an hour.

Pastrami Sandwich (New York City) – Pricey but tasty, the moist, thick, and flavorful pastrami served in New York’s delis is completely unlike the mundane, tasteless supermarket pastrami I grew up with.  Since most of us pass by New York at some point in time, this one’s the easiest one on the list for you to try yourself.

Montreal Smoked Meat (Montreal, Canada) - Rightfully popular, Schwartz’s Delicatessen in Montreal constantly packs a line, even in the middle of a frigid Quebecois winter.  It’s less than half the price of the above mentioned pastrami sandwich in New York City, but equally good.  Tip: Get takeout and enjoy your meal in the nearby Saint Louis Park if you have the option.  

Banh Mi Sandwich (Vietnam) - Sure, they’re not as great as the above two sandwiches, but for only a buck or two a pop, these tasty subs are typically served on a crunchy french baguette with fresh trimmings.  Tip: spicy is more like painfully hot.  If done traditionally, banh mi’s heat comes not from chili sauce, but actually sliced-up fiery chili peppers, seeds in.

Sushi/Sashimi (Japan) - A hallmark of Japanese cuisine that everyone knows about.  There’s a huge selection and variety in Japan, including the live, moving octopus.  It’s also surprisingly cheap in Japanese supermarkets – at the time the below photo was taken, 380 yen was about $4.

American BBQ (USA) –  Tip: the sign of a good BBQ place is one that makes a limited amount of barbecue items per day When they run out, they run out.  This means they’re truly slow cooked and fall-off-the-bone. Although I don’t eat meat anymore, I can appreciate the cooking process, which tenderizes while infuses flavour into the meat.  Try the burnt ends if they’re available.  I favor the BBQ scene around Kansas City, but good BBQ can generally be found elsewhere if you look hard.

Banchan (Korea) – I think at this point, it’s safe to say I like lots of different food served in tiny portions (dim sum, izakaya, tapas).  Banchan, the small side dishes served with Korean meals or as bar snacks, is no different.  Also, unlike a lot of Korean food, it’s vegetarian… and really tasty to boot!

Ramen (Hokkaido/Osaka, Japan) – Ramen served in a ramen shop is vastly different from the instant noodle variety most of us devour when needing a deceivingly quick hunger fix.  Unfortunately, I usually find fresh ramen rather salty due to heavy soya sauce or miso use in the broth.   However, I lined up for an hour in the rain to get in the below Osaka ramen shop.  It was there that I discovered my favorite ramen, made with fresh noodles served separately in an unsalty but delicious vegetable broth. Definitely worth the wait.

Curry Fish Balls (Hong Kong) – Hong Kong street food is some of the best in the world, though health regulations have since forced the vending carts off the streets and into cramped street-level building stalls.  Though stinky tofu is more well-known because of it’s off-putting smell, curry fish balls are the most popular street snack  in terms of sales, popularity, and the “being-allowed-into-buildings-ness”.

Bagels (Montreal, Canada) – I’m actually not a fan of bagels.  There, I said it.  I find them chewy and bland, while stealing the flavor from whatever spread I’ve topped them with.  Fresh-baked bagels in Montreal, however, are different.  Wow.  I could just eat them straight.  I might never eat regular bagels again.

Vegetarian Izakaya (Kyoto, Japan) – Izakaya is a type of Japanese that serves beer and tapas-like food.  The quality of the food really varies, depending on the purpose of the restaurant.  Usually, the more focused the bar is on drinking, or if the restaurant is cosplay or dungeon-themed, the sh*ttier the food.  Kyoto, however takes the regular bar-style izakaya to the next level.  In fact, because it seems to have a reputation to uphold, Kyoto seems to excel in everything, but most notably its vegetarian cuisine.    Although not cheap, the vegetarian izakaya I had in Kyoto was fresh, creative, and a memorable experience.

Turkish Chicken Kebap (Germany) – Strange, isn’t it?  Turkey has great kebaps, but the exported portable German version on a pita really impressed me.  Or maybe I just lucked out when I stumbled in the Turkish quarter in Cologne, Germany.  I think the trick with a good kebap is one where the meat is carved off the rotisserie at the right moment, when it’s most tender.

Gniocchi (Florence, Italy) – I’m not a huge pasta fan, but I once went on an eating spree in Florence because I was so dazzled by the texture of the gniocchi there.  It’s really good.

Green Curry (Thailand) – Man, Thailand keeps coming up in this list, and rightfully so!  Going beyond other curries and not just offering heat, green curry simultaneously has taste and kick.  The curry in the neighboring countries of Cambodia and Malaysia are also pretty amazing too.

New York or Chicago Pizza (USA) - For my favorite pizza in the USA, it’s a toss up, really depending on my mood and more so my location.  New York coal oven pizza is typically thin crust, while Chicago deep-dish pizzas are heavily loaded with ingredients – you definitely can’t have too many of those without hitting the gym a few times after.   I’d also recommend Miguel’s Pizza if you’re ever out rock climbing in the middle of Kentucky

Ceviche (Peru) – The beauty of ceviche, like most regional foods, is that it varies across the country.  Try a fancier plate in the capital Lima, and then hit back a cheap platter up in the simple fishing/surfing town of Mancora.

Takoyaki (Japan) – Particularly adored in the Kansai region of Japan, these octopus balls come fully loaded with all sorts of Japanese toppings.  I loved takoyaki so much, I brought back a takoyaki machine so I could make them at home.  Okonomiyaki, a similar tasting pancake dish also hailing from the Kansai region, is also rightfully popular, but if I had to choose between the two, I’d go with takoyaki.  I think the ball shape won me over – they’re just so cute looking!

Peking Duck (China) – This is a Chinese classic.  If you haven’t tried it before, go out and try it now, even if your only option is your local Chinatown.

Street Dogs (Toronto, Canada) - Finally, something from my hometown – hot dog or sausage served from a street dog cart.  Incredibly satisfying on a cold winter day, Toronto “street meat” vendors also usually offer a nice variety of toppings, condiments, and ethnic sauces to dress up your dog.   The veggie dogs aren’t half bad either, if you don’t eat them too often.  I’d also like to add that the beauty of Toronto is that it’s such a diverse multicultural city, so that much of the food I’ve listed above is done pretty authentically somewhere in the city.

Ethiopian sourdough, cold pizza in Rome, Sichuan dandan noodles, Polish borscht, French onion soup, Canadian poutine (it’s deep-fried), Swedish meatballs, Scandinavian smoked gravlax (salmon), any hot lodge food served while trekking in Nepal, Malaysian yellow curry (probably would have been on the main list, but I got sick in Malaysia). 

Dishonorable Mention

Sticking to the holy trinity of foods on the backpacker trail:  fried rice, banana pancakes, and spaghetti.  The only thing worse is going on an international “tour” of McDonald’s restaurants.  Tip: I’ve been told it’s pretty much the same-tasting crap, wherever you go.

You are not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You’re not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You’re not your fucking khakis. You’re the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.

- Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

If I had to ask you who you are, what would you say?  Would you describe your family?  Your ethnic background?  The things you like to do?  Maybe it’s a combination of several different characteristics that you feel make you the individual your are today.

Today, I want to touch on our identities.  Last time, I wrote about the ego and how it loves drama [Read: Be Allergic To Drama].  Well, the ego is also fiercely protective of itself, and more importantly, its identity.  Tell me how familiar these statements are: I need to find myself.  I can’t help it, this is who I am.  I think, therefore I am.  Who am I?

What do I mean by our identities?  In the most general outer sense, it could be anything you do or identify with – religious affiliations, political views, race, nationality, or hobbies:  Australian, Korean, New Yorker, Packers fan, Christian, Democrat, salsa dancer, snowboarder, etc.  In the deeper inner sense, our identities could be our fears, our pasts, worries, internal conflicts, failures, successes, personalities, and tensions.

Our egos love to attach themselves onto these identities to define who we are when in fact, it’s far from that.  On one hand, identities seem to give our life meaning and purpose while defining us as individuals.  On the other end of the spectrum, identities also define our limits while separating ourselves from others who we consider different, leading to conflicts ranging from petty arguments to insane genocide.

See, without an identity, the ego will cease to exist. If this all sounds new to you, then I can hear the questions already.  What am I then?  What’s the purpose of living without knowing who I am?  Don’t I need an identity or my mind to survive?  Am I supposed to pretend the past never happened or that my problems don’t exist?

Hold on a sec there. Let’s just rewind and take a slow approach, and I’ll wade into those deep topics at a later time.  The first identity I want to write about today is the one most of us can relate to, and that is failure.

“You are not your failures.”

For those of us who’ve played the Game of Life, we’ve had our share of bumpy roads, fast lanes, traffic jams, and uneventful times on the Interstate.  Most of us have experienced the low times – maybe you’re going through one now – and our egos succeed best in not letting them go.

All too often, we convert our failures into lifelong identities:  fat, stupid, lazy, obsessive compulsive, divorcee, financial failure, procrastinator, unreliable, unloving, loser, etc.   When our failures become ingrained so deep in our identities, they become a part of us, like a mind-controlling alien parasite.  Really.  You can’t stop thinking about your problems, and you’re stuck somewhere else, ignoring the present moment. You consume hours of your day, and ultimately weeks out of years, brooding and fretting without realizing it.  The parasitic failure identity is essentially a virus, oblivious of the host, eating away at everything, destroying its host, and ultimately itself. It dictates future decisions making while inhibiting one from moving forward confidently in a positive direction.

But this is my point: Don’t Let Your Life Situations Become Your Identity.

You are not your failures. You are not what other people think of you, good or bad. You are not the problems in your life or your past negative events or life situations.

What I mean by life situation is simply that. You need to extract yourself, be the watcher, the game player. Failure’s just part of the human condition. It’s actually pretty hard to lose the game, even in death, which is our common journey. Only your egoic mind, the one fixated on where you should be in life, who you should be, and what you should be doing, is the one telling you that you’re losing. It’s comparing you to others, whether real life or fictitious (it can’t tell the difference), and racing towards a happiness that never arrives.

“Failure’s just part of the human condition.”

They’re your experiences. You learn from them. If you don’t, and your ego takes hold, then you’ll likely make the same mistakes over and over again. Same bad relationships. Same lack of motivation. Same problems with money. Same general dissatisfaction. Some people never recognize negative patterns in their lives, don’t know why they repeat them, or at worse are addicted to them (drama). Or maybe things get better, but a strong ego will seeks new complaints to latch onto, its thirst for dissatisfaction never been quenched. For example, you always wanted to have your own car, and after finally buying a used Toyota, now you want a new BMW. Or you finally got the promotion you’ve waited 5 years for, but now you’ll spend the next 5 wanting to be a partner in the company.

Your Choices

At this juncture, you have two choices. The first is acceptance. If you can accept a negative life situation, then you’ve found peace and/or forgiveness, no longer offer resistance to what is, and the problem no longer creates any tension in your life.  You’ve successfully released it.  Sometimes, you really can’t change your outer circumstances, and it really is the best thing to do.

The second is marching towards a solution.  I’m guessing that if you’re reading this post, you don’t want certain events to repeat. You’re stuck in neutral, pressing on the gas, but nothing’s happening. Energy is burned, but you’re not moving anywhere. If you want to get to first gear (and if I want to stop the driving metaphors ) , then you have to catch yourself wasting time – precious time that can not be recouped – worrying about the future or dwelling on the past.  Once you’ve freed yourself , then you can concentrate on solutions.

Give it some time, however – I know it’s not easy.  If you want, keep a small notebook, and keep a log of your successes to encourage yourself along the way.  And as always, don’t beat yourself up if you experience a slip-up. What’s important is that in the grand scheme, you’re constantly moving forward.

“Recognize failures, losses, whether in your control or not, are simply life situations.”

When was the last time you had a down moment?  How about an up moment?  Our ups and downs are like the constant currents and eddies along a river.  When times are great, it’s amazing and you’re conquering Class 5 rapids with ease.  Conversely, when you’re coping with failure, you feel miserable, barely able to stay afloat, and drowning in a churning whirlpool.  Good times only feel good because we have failures to compare them against.  If we were always on a high, it wouldn’t feel so great.  I know this because I know people who’ve barely touched work in their lives, have nothing to do, and have become complete recluses.  Accept the cycle of ups and downs.  What’s important is that when the chips are down, that you don’t get completely swallowed in your failure.

Recognize failures, losses, whether in your control or not, are simply life situations.  They happen to everyone.  I’ve definitely had my share [Read: Loss, Recovery, And Something To Read When You’re Feeling Down]. Life situations are simply that.  Part of life.  But they are not you.  When you are able to separate your life from your life situation, or your identity with your failures, whether past or present, then you can move towards a better life situation.  If your problems are ongoing, then only by releasing your attention from them can you look towards new solutions.  Or, if you can’t find a solution, then to find peace through acceptance.

Love the moment, and the energy of the moment will spread beyond all boundaries.
- Corita Kent

]]> http://www.risingbean.com/2013/01/you-are-not-the-sum-of-your-failures/feed/ 4 http://www.risingbean.com/2013/01/you-are-not-the-sum-of-your-failures/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/risingbean/~3/6XfekYnQE6k/ http://www.risingbean.com/2012/12/be-allergic-to-drama-9-quick-tips-to-kill-the-addiction/#comments Wed, 19 Dec 2012 21:21:25 +0000 ki'une http://www.risingbean.com/?p=2137

Having spent many years in the club dancing scene, I’ve seen more than my share of drama.   Guys congregate, put on their game faces, and figure out their plan of attack.  Women dress to the nines and raise their skirts higher than their normal comfort levels.  Mix in alcohol, hormones, and egos, and you’ve created a time bomb for some disastrous situations.

Guys fight over girls.  Girls fight over guys.  Bad bouncer did this.  Creep tried to start that.  Sometimes, the fighting, verbal or physical, spills out onto the street, and strangers swarm to witness the spectacles.  How did the fight start?  Can you believe …? I heard she  … 

I’ve long since learned to avoid all the aforementioned situations, and actually, if I feel a bad energy from a venue, I don’t have a problem with calling it an early night.

In fact, I’ve made it a habit to avoid drama altogether to the point of becoming allergic to it.

I have no interest in listening in on  conversations about people.  I tame any road rage whenever I’m driving or cycling.  I have no need to make people see my point of view, or to be too attached to any viewpoints for that matter.

I don’t watch television, because all what’s popular these days seem to be the lowest forms of drama.  The last time I glanced at The Learning Channel’s programs, it looks like documentaries and animal shows have long been superseded by cake competitions boasting “REAL DRAMA!”  Really?

I don’t read the news.  I’m sure some big headlines are making the news today, but if you read a random headline a year from now, they’ll be screaming something else in bold-type caps.  Really, take a look at this snapshot I took two years back.

The truth is that we are all naturally addicted to drama.

Why do I have to get the last word?  Why is that stupid reality TV show so much fun to watch?  Why do I keep checking the news every morning?  Why do I keep sharing that story about that rude sales associate?  Why do I give my partner the silent treatment? Why does blowing off steam at someone kind of feel good?

Drama, in its milder forms, actually makes us feel alive, like it’s giving us a purpose albeit a false one.   It feeds the ego and one’s sense of “self”.  When we criticize someone else or a situation, we can seek comfort in being right or even the better person.  If there is no immediate drama in our lives, then TV shows, the news, or gossip can fill the void.  Whatever it takes to elevate the ego.

By seeking differences in others, it reinforces our identities of who we think we are.  Without our identities, our egos become threatened and must react for self-preservation.  This is why we need a continuous stream of drama to feed our egos.  Otherwise, our life purpose might become non-existent, or at the least, life would be incredibly dull and uninteresting.

OK, I know I’m diving into a deeper topic now and might be losing you, but the short of it is that I’m suggesting the seemingly uninteresting path.  It might feel mind-numbingly mundane at first, but after a while, you’ll adapt and discover how great it is to live more peacefully and free from all that drama crap.

Here are some quick tips  to tone down the drama in your life.  Remember, it’s the sum of small steps that conquer the beast.

1. Cut out television, or at least, reality television.  Reality television was designed to capture drama.  It’s not real life – it’s scripted, edited, and set up to create drama.  Real life is much more tame.  You really don’t want your life to be a narcotics-fueled roller coaster ride. I wrote some tips for doing this long ago.

2. Avoid the news.  Try substituting water cooler conversations with a question like:  When’s the last time you skydived/built a robot servant/lived a day without your phone/did yoga?  Even talking about the weather is better for you.

3. Try to catch yourself getting defensive or reacting if arguing, being criticized, or having your views challenged.  If possible, resist the urge to respond immediately.  Instead, step back, breath deeply, and avoid taking things personally.

4. Avoid debating these hot topics for 30 days: religion, politics, gun control, abortion, or the “sad state” of the world.  Trying to change other people’s minds about certain hot topics is often more destructive than constructive.  Feel free to cruise the comments of any partisan news article and watch the comment quickly degrade into insults.  Please limit your reading if you want to retain your sanity.

5. Don’t hang out with someone who’s obviously manipulative.  Their drama becomes your drama.

6. Catch yourself listening to gossip.  Like point #5, drama is not only addictive, but highly infectious.  Listening to it will turn you into a drama zombie, so you have to eradicate it in its innocuous forms.   First ask yourself:  Would the person being discussed be OK with what is being said? If the answer is no, change the topic, offer little to no feedback, or divert your attention elsewhere.

7. Throw out small apologies.  In small moments of friction with other people, an apology, whether you’re right or wrong, goes a long way.  More on this later.

8. Don’t sweat the small stuff.  Focusing on petty situations will make you petty, so don’t sucked into a vortex of principles.

9. Read “The Power of Now” by Eckhart Tolle.  Read it twice at least, since it might fly over your head the first time through.  Feel free to focus on the chapters that resonate with you the most.  Much of what I write is an interpretation of Eckhart Tolle’s work and  other similar authors’ works.

With all that said, I’m not saying I’m immune to drama.  If someone verbally attacks me, I may feel a natural inclination to retaliate, but by stepping back and watching myself like a third person, I allow myself to see bigger picture and handle tough situations maturely.

Note: This is a true story, but names have been changed.  

If there ever was a good time to travel in Nepal in recent years, then 2006 was it.  The Maoist rebels were in full force, and governments around the world were advising their citizens to avoid travel to Nepal.  For tourists, it wasn’t dangerous per se, but rather a nuisance.  Roads were frequently blocked, the city shut down due to riots, and trekkers were often accosted by gun-toting rebels for donations to their cause.

For the adventurous traveller, the tense political climate was a godsend.  In exchange for certain inconveniences, I was able to travel  through a relatively tourist-free country.  Upon arriving in the dense jungles of Chitwan National Park, I was surprised to discover that I was the sole guest at a small hotel resort.  The resort was set on beautiful grounds, was well-staffed, and yet was eerily empty.  Again, I felt really sumimasen (see last post) for having a staff of five wait on me, and opted to cook my own meals in the cavernous kitchen just to occupy myself in the absence of company.  I ended up courting another traveller, also the only guest at her resort, to disperse the sheer emptiness of it all.  I still have fond memories cooking with her and showing locals how to make a grilled yak cheese and tomato sandwich.

Of course, for a country dependent on tourism, the lack of visitors was devastating.  As with most travellers, my primary purpose in Nepal was to trek the Himalayas.  Supply and demand dictated that prices for everything was at an all-time low.  As such, finding a guide was a cakewalk.

Rajit approached me while I was wandering around a small Buddhist stupa, and I made arrangements to venture into the Annapurna region of  the Himalayas with 3 other travellers – a couple from Calgary, Stacy and Calvin, and another traveller from South Africa, Dmitri.  Splitting Rajit’s incredulously low $10/day fee,  it  worked out to $2.50/day for each of us.  Transportation, accommodations, and meals were free for Rajit since he brought business to every place we visited.

Rajit told us he’d meet us at our hostel the next morning to catch the 7am bus to Pokhara, the starting point for most Himalayan treks.  The next morning we waited outisde our hostel at 6am as agreed.  6:30 came.  6:45.  Five minutes before 7, Rajit came running down the street.  As he approached our group, the thick scent of alcohol followed in tow.

Nonetheless, Rajit did his job fairly well, though at times it felt like rote guiding.  We spent 10 days in the Himalayas without a hitch, but on more than one evening, he used his lodge commission to drink merrily into the late hours.  Still, I considered him to be a good person, and I truly wished that his life situation would improve.  Besides paying more than his modest fee, I set up a website for him in hopes that he could better promote his services.

Along the way, we met only a handful of other travellers, though the lodge sizes suggested that many, many more guest were the norm.  We also met another guide, Janu, en route.  As we gathered around the dinner table each night,  coping with  the burning kersonese table heaters while combating the pain of our dry, stricken throats, Janu entertained us with his storytelling,  friendliness, genuine personality, passion for his work, and knowledge of the mountains.

At the end of our trek, Stacy and Calvin secretly made arrangements with Janu to continue onto Everest a week later.  Months later, they reported to me that their experience with him was incredible.  Janu genuinely enjoyed taking foreigners on treks, and constantly trying to improve his English skills.  His personality made him well-liked, by travellers and locals.  Wherever they went, Janu easily secured deals on quality accommodations for Stacy and Calvin.  Still, just like Rajit and all other Nepalese, Janu was also going through hard times, and also had a family back in Kathmandu to support.

Fast forward only to two years later.  The Maoists have taken charge, tensions have mostly stabilized, and tourism has picked up again.  The backpacker enclave of Thamel is overflowing with foreigners again.  There are literally fifty times more people than when I last went.

Stacy and Calvin have returned to Nepal to take on some other treks and easy summits with Janu.  They also make a point to visit Rajit.  Janu has ridden the wave of success, and has gone from solo guiding travellers to creating a full-fledged trekking agency.  He invites Stacy and Calvin to enjoy dinner at his home, where they are pleased to see that he has a healthy family, a nice home, and a flatscreen television to boot.

Given the low-cost of living and everything else in Kathmandu, what Janu has is equivalent to a healthy six-digit salary here.  He can provide for his family without any worries and survive another downturn, if it comes.  Repeat business and word of mouth sustains and elevates his business to the point where he can bring in more guides.  His guides are chosen carefully to provide the impeccable service that he’s built his own success on.

Rajit, on the other hand, hasn’t done so well, lamenting to Stacy and Calvin that he’s had trouble finding work in the upturn.  He had an arranged marriage shortly after we left and has a small family now.  They all live in a miniscule room and are barely scraping by.    Stacy and Calvin are almost heartbroken to have dinner with Rajit’s family.  They serve a small chicken, but Stacy and Calvin can easily tell that Rajit has scraped together much of his money to afford it.  They opt to take Rajit’s family out the next night instead.

Around the same time, I received an email from Rajit for to wire him a loan.  The other members of my trekking group received the same email.  Rajit didn’t request a large sum, so we all helped out a little, but knew in our hearts that he was responsible for his current situation.

So, there we have it.  Two similar situations.  Two very different outcomes.  The reasons why Rajit hasn’t been as successful as Janu are obvious.  Unfortunately, I don’t know how his life has unfolded since, but I sincerely hope that, with the surmounting pressure to raise a family, that he’s gotten his act together.  He still has a chance though, especially considering he has a specialized skill.  Opportunity is lying right in front of him so long as he can overcome his vices.

What I find remarkable about this story is that for the longest time, success and entrepreneurship in my mind was a luxury reserved for the first world.  I couldn’t grasp the concept of making it big in a third world country, without oil, corruption, or marrying a foreigner being involved.  As it turns out, the same success principles work over there as it does here – see opportunity, grab it, and work hard to make it real.  The gap between success and failure is very fine, and if a Nepali mountain guide can launch himself out of poverty, then it’s hard to believe in the barriers (or excuses) we put up.

And remember, there are more hurdles to overcome for someone living in Nepal, but that only goes to prove the amount of heart people like Janu have.  While many of us are fretting over whether to buy an iPhone or a Samsung Galaxy, their motivation comes down to the basics – putting a decent meal on the table, shelter, and the happiness for those around them.

One of the fringe benefits of travelling is getting used to alternative forms of transportation while simultaneously losing my dependency on driving. North America aside, it seems the rest of the world generally embraces public transportation, either due to to good infrastructure or population density. I remember last year, my trip from Bangkok, Thailand to Siam Reap, Cambodia unraveled like this: walk to light rail, light rail to bus station, bus to border village, tuk-tuk, walk across border, mini-bus to main bus terminal, discover that no buses are running and take a shared taxi to Siam Reap, tuk tuk to hotel.

(Tip: Take a one-way flight on Air Asia instead.  It almost costs the same, is heaps faster, and you won’t have to deal with border visa scams, the no-bus situation,  and/or arriving confused in a dark village)

Every time I return from abroad, I find myself going through this car de-hiberation ritual: remove the wheel chocks, inflate the tires, flush out critters that have found a home in my car, cross my fingers as I boost the engine, clench my teeth and shudder as I hear the ball joints creak to life with the first inches of movement.  I should probably finish with serving green tea to complete the ceremony.

I then hop back on the roads and marvel at how different North American traffic feels.  The high-speed.  The sudden rush-hour congestion.  The wide-laned highways and roads.  Granted, driving feels much less harrowing here than in other parts of the world, but probably because I’m used to it.  Likewise, a Peruvian taxi driver told me once how he almost soiled his pants trying to merge onto a fast Californian freeway.

As for myself, I’ve never quite gotten over how fast 60 km/h (40 mph) feels like when rushing through a narrow Cusco street packed on the sides with bustling locals like a New York subway platform at rush hour.  Nor have I gotten used to the discomfort of pushing my way through the middle of a Burmese road market in a motorcycle.  For the latter scenario, my polite Canadian nature always feels somewhat sumimasen*, even though the crowds seem to naturally disperse around my motorcycle like the parting of the Red Sea.

Above all, one thing I notice is the hurriedness everyone seems to be in back at home on the roads. If you happen to live in an idllyic town on Prince Edward Island, then maybe you’re exempt from all this, but if you live in a suburb of a major North American city, and have battled your share of Friday evening commutes, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

Don’t get me wrong. I like driving – I enjoy working on my car, and subtly tuning its performance, handling, and ride comfort.   I used to drive a lot.  I then moved into the city and starting cycling instead, while only getting behind the driver’s wheel once or twice a week.

The switch made the many pitfalls of driving glaringly obvious.  After all, short or tall, man or woman, the car is the great equalizer.  Driving empowerment seems to turn mild-natured folk into road-raging predators.  Normal, benign personalities manifest into unconscious behaviour behind the wheel: impatience, aggressiveness, revenge, control, judgments  superiority complexes, uttering profanities, and intimidation of others.

If you have to deal with these temperaments once or twice a day, then here are some tips on how to get most of your time spent on the roads.

1. Practice patience.  Patience is one of the great virtues that will bring plenty of peace into your life.  Patience brings you into the present moment and helps you shed the insanity of daily driving.  Turn off the news on the radio, don’t think about what you have to do or how long the drive is taking, let other drivers merge, and just enjoy the moment.  If the air quality isn’t too bad, crack open the window and take in some nice, deep breaths.

If you’re in a hurry to get somewhere, take notice of your urgency, and how it potentially can turn into dangerous driving.  Relax and try to drive as you normally would.

Is the driver in front of you too slow?  There’s no need to tailgate.  Give yourself some space – it’s better for accelerating into a pass, easier to spot oncoming traffic on 2-way roads, and most of all, less taxing on your mental health.  Likewise, swerving and rapidly changing lanes in traffic actually won’t likely save you any significant time  and actually contributes to traffic jams.

2. Make driving a meditation.  Continuing on the last point, enjoy the drive or be at peace with the moment, even if you’re in bumper-to-bumper to traffic.  Meditation doesn’t necessarily mean closing your eyes, humming mantras, or listening to hypnotic audio tracks –   those are one-way tickets to a serious accident.  It’s more like taking thoughts as they come – negative ones, listing to-do tasks, or just the general non-stop ranting –  and releasing those thoughts.  You can’t free up a traffic jam, so let go of any controlling behaviour, put your focus just on driving, and don’t pre-occupy your mind with anything else.

3. Learn on the road.  I’ve learned the basics of Spanish, Mandarin Chinese, and Japanese on the roads through audiobooks.  I’ve also learned a thing or two on how to pick up women, start a business, and creating great habits.  Audiobooks are a great way to kill the monotony of a traffic jam. At other times, I may get a great blog or dance idea and dictate my thoughts onto my phone via the voice recording application.

I know that sometimes your brain turns off, especially at the end of a long work day, and it’s really hard to concentrate on learning.  In that case,  there’s no point in risking falling asleep on the roads.  Put on audio programs that actually engage you or just sing along with some music you like.  Just avoid non-traffic related news.

4. You are not the better driver.  Fact: 80% of drivers think they’re above average.  Unfortunately, the math doesn’t work out.  Likewise, because a 4WD SUV can roar to life and theoretically crush all surrounding compact sedans, it doesn’t make the driver the sultan of the roads.  Assume you’re an average driver like everyone else and drive defensively.

5. NEVER look at the other driver (unless to say something nice).  I really need to emphasize this fact.  I know it’s really tempting to see who that *&%$#@ who wronged you on the road is, but really think about it.  There’s NOTHING to be gained except for making judgments on the other driver’s race, gender, age, or lackluster taste in Hawaiian shirts.  It’s unnecessarily confrontational, creates bad energy, and you don’t want to go down that road (no pun intended).

6. Reduce your time on the roads.  If you can move closer to work, or somewhere that allows you to switch to public transportation, then do it.  You can write off the expenses too if you’ve moved a substanial enough distance (usually 20 km/12.5 mi).  I’ve done it in the past, and it was really worthwhile in terms of the time savings and mental health benefits.

You are not better than the other drivers, as a person.  That’s it.  Even if you have had no accidents, know the back roads better than you know how to dance Gangnam style , or can stick-shift drive a semi through a Himalayan mountain pass, your driving skills  and know-how actually don’t make you a better person.  You might be the more experienced driver, but even then, don’t let that get to your head.

In the meantime, drive safe and peacefully!

(*sumimasen – the Japanese word for ‘excuse me’, and my Japanglish word for the bad feeling I get when obligating people to go out of their way for me)

I’ve been on a bit of a work binge lately, though I’m having fun coming up with new ideas and projects to share with everyone.  To stay focused through the long hours, I’ve been listening to some island music to boost my productivity.  When I think back to the countless hours I spent sitting on my surfboard waiting for waves, I vividly remember how present my mind was – feeling my body flow with the rhythm of the waves, listening to the sounds of the ocean water lap against my board, and harnessing my focus together as I caught a wave.

Since then, I’ve associated the music I’ve listened to on the islands with the incredible concentration I had on the waves, and am using it to lighten my spirits and keep my energy high as I put together great work.  I created the below Youtube playlist with some of my favorite tracks to share with you.  Not all of it is exactly island music, and not all tracks are in English, but they definitely all are feel good songs! (Well, try not to listen to the lyrics to Santeria )

If you have anything to add to the list, please share!  If you’re receiving this post in an email, and can’t see the Youtube playlist, click here to play it directly.

Here is the track list, in no particular order:

Jason Mraz – I’m Yours
Jason Mraz – I’m Your (cover)
2Face Idibia – African Queen
Fugees – Killing me Softly (reggae version)
Adele – Someone Like You (reggae version)
Iyaz – Replay [Reggae Remix]
Alicia Keys – No One (Curtis Lynch Reggae Mix)
Anuhea -Simple Love Song
Beach Boys – Kokomo
Big Mountain – Baby I Love Your Way
Cityside – Come on Pretty Baby
ET-KING 愛しい人へ
Inner Circle – Sweat (A La La La Long)
Israel Kamakawiwo’ole – Somewhere Over The Rainbow
J Boog – Let’s Do It Again
J Boog – Sunshine Girl ft Peetah
Jack Johnson – Better Together
Jack Johnson – Breakdown
Jason Mraz – I’m Yours (Reggae Remix) ft. Lil’ Wayne & Jah Cure
MEGARYU – Day by Day
Micah G – Take A Chance
MONSTA – This Is Love featuring J-Boog
Opihi Pickers – Beautiful Ladies Beautiful Girls
Pati feat O-shen Fiji – Island Girls
Peter Andre – Mysterious Girl
Rebel Souljahz – The One
Sean Paul Ft Sasha – I’m still in love with you
Slightly Stoopid – Wiseman
Snow – Everybody Wants To Be Like You
Snow – The Plumb Song
Snow – Joke Thing
Spawnbreezie – I’m In Love
Spawnbreezie – Oh My Goodness
Sublime – Santeria
Micah G – Take A Chance
UB40 – Can’t help falling in love
UB40 -Red Red Wine – UB40
Welcome To My Paradise by Steven & The Coconuttreez
Bob Marley – One Love
Bob Marley – Is This Love
Bob Marley – No Woman No Cry
Bob Marley – Buffalo Soldier

“I’ll have this ice cream float”

I pointed to a picture on a menu while a waiter to my order before wearily slumping into the comfy cushioned seating of a quasi-upscale restaurant in Myanmar.  Soon, this would be the location of an important personal lesson on gratitude.

Let me provide a little background for those of you not familiar with Myanmar, also historically known as Burma.   Myanmar has one of the longest running military dictatorships in the world, and its oppression of their citizens  and human rights violations and are well known.  But things are changing.  Recently, their most famous political prisoner, Aung San Suu Kyi, finally was allowed to leave the country and accept the Nobel Peace Prize bestowed upon her two decades ago.  Hopefully, this is a sign of more good changes coming.

Last year, I had the privilege to visit this economically isolated, and thus culturally isolated, country.  There were some small hurdles to get in, but it wasn’t particularly difficult, like entering Bhutan or Tibet from a western border.  Once inside, I found out from other travellers that the hurdles were mostly superficial.  Many, in fact, took advantage of the disorganized tourist tracking system and overstayed their visit by months to illegally do volunteer work.

Random events led me to show up in July, when the country was still baking in the simmering midsummer heat.  Perhaps you’ve  experienced extremely hot, humid weather at some time or another, whether it be in New York or Hong Kong, but Myanmar’s heat is different – since it’s a developing country, there’s very little escape, making one very aware of it at all times.  Aside from a cooling break at the famed high-altitude Inle Lake, air conditioning could not be found – not at my hostel, not in any shops or in the taxis.  To top it off, frequent brownouts also meant that often times, I didn’t even have a fan.  The motor vehicles, all of which seemed to be at minimum, 30 years in age, only aggravated the humidity by creating a thick haze of pollution from their unfiltered patchwork exhausts.  Needless to say, my appetite came to a standstill in the weather.

In the arid ancient city of Bagan, the heat was so intense that the horses wouldn’t move during the daytime, and so I would wait until 5pm before wandering out into the valley of temples.  I killed time by either sitting in random caves and temples, or chatting with other travellers and locals.  I made a valiant attempt even to teach hip hop at an orphanage, but ultimately wasn’t allowed, so I taught the kids on the street.

Returning to the day in question, by my own fault, I had just lost my phone, whose only function in a country with almost no communication services was as a Burmese dictionary.  To top it off, I was also scammed for $40 earlier while exchanging money on the streets.  I was pretty furious over being tricked by sleight of hand, especially since I do card magic, but I wasn’t going to get in a tussle with the ten guys who swarmed me as I became confrontational.

An earlier rainfall only made the humidity more unbearable, so it was then that I sought solace in ice cream, which is surprising since I don’t have a sweet tooth.  In a city with daily brownouts, anything cold is rather difficult to come by, let alone ice cream, which boasts a much lower storage temperature, so I had commissioned to myself a pretty daunting task.  With the aid of my guidebook, I located a high-end restaurant by Myanmar standards, though it would probably make your average Olive Garden look like a Dubai hotel in comparison.  The interior was overly dark, either to emulate the look of a Western jazz club or to hide its true disheveled appearance, and I found myself stumbling along my way to my table, where I ordered said ice cream float.

When it arrived, my anticipation was dashed as I dug into a dissatisfying mountain of warm fruit with an almost-melted, miniscule dallop of vanilla ice cream (or lukewarm heavy cream – I couldn’t tell the difference) on top.   Alas, it wouldn’t give me the momentary luxurious relief from the heat I was seeking, and with it’s sticky sweetness, it just made me thirstier than before.

Sorely disappointed, my mind started wandering I thought about all the things that sucked to be in Myanmar.  The dirty, polluted streets and rivers.  The smell on the streets.  The god-awful humidity.  The poorly imitated western food.  The tattered clothing and beaten look of everything.  The immoral scam artists I met earlier.  The horrendous teeth some locals had from chewing too many areca nuts.  The constant harrassment to buy postcards.

Although I didn’t bark at anyone, I was more or less doing it inside my head.

As I stepped back on the street, I took a few deep breaths, as is customary when I have any heavy feelings.  In doing so, I caught my negative thinking and began to choke up, submerged in a wave of chagrin, regretting the thoughts that I was possibly above the Burmese people.  Here I was, my stupid, little universe crumbling before me because of mild physical discomfort, something that I had willingly chose by travelling to Myanmar, and yet, everyone here had quietly accepted this way of life.  Shamefully returning to my black market motorcycle, I handed the 10-year old child backpacking his younger brother the local currency left in my pockets.  He had been waiting patiently for my return.

For the rest of that night, I sweated it out in my room without a complaint to be had.

A week later, I would be sitting comfortably in the extravagant confines of an air conditioned Bangkok mall, surrounded by happy-go-lucky shoppers, the splendours of the internationally themed food court, and the myriad of vendors busily attracting customers.  I spent most of my day in that mall, just people watching, writing, and reflecting.  Given the stark contrast from where I had just returned from, I didn’t have much heart to do anything else.

As I sat there, and as I write now, I realized that as simple as I’ve tried to live over the past few years, I still have so much to learn on gratitude, and that life could be much more modest.  Do I really want to be cruising the cool, wide shopping lanes of an enormous Walmart Superstore back at home, or do I want to be dancing in a valley of 4,000 temples and stupas?  It’s not a rhetorical question.  When the unforgiving heat is as inescapable as it is in Myanmar, combined with loneliness-creep of solo travel and rampant dirty conditions, my mind starts wandering, and once-forgettable creature comforts emerge to tempt me.

Myanmar is a beautiful country.  The people are beautiful – I mean it, I’m not saying it in some patronizing “all people are beautiful” way.  The guys have strong features, and I would date a Burmese woman in a heartbeat – I even started to like the yellow thanakha face paint they would smear on their faces.   Yes, I had an unpleasant experience with one fraudster, but the general population is extremely honest.  Without any bank machines to be found, I carried all my money, huge stacks of low denomination kyit, their local currency, around me the entire time I was there.  I never worried about it, even though all the locals knew I was a walking ATM.  The lack of development means they still have a nature reserve few countries can match, if you’re able to get out there.  It also means that the Burmese people are caught between two worlds, and they can’t be blamed for what they don’t have or how they will adapt to new changes.

Are you unhappy with your car, your house, or your financial situation?  Are you unfairly comparing yourself to other who have more?  Or is something entirely different getting you down, like your work?  The truth is, we have a lot of choice, but fail to see it when we have our gratitude blinders on.  Take some time today to write it down all the things you are appreciative of.  No one has to read it but yourself.  Then, read it again, take a deep breath, and marvel at the opportunities that lay before you.

If we fill our hours with regrets over the failures of yesterday, and with worries over the problems of tomorrow, we have no today in which to be thankful.

- Author Unknown

* * * Before I begin, for those of you on the email list, I’m switching over to another email provider so I can attach mini e-books,wallpaper I’ve created, as well smaller “how-to” posts and challenges that I’m sure you’ll like.  All you have to do is click the link in a confirmation email I’ll send out within a week’s time.  Afterwards, just unsubscribe from the old subscription so you don’t get double emails.  I really appreciate your efforts, and I promise to put great things in the new newsletter!

Back to my post!

In my last post, I wrote about how life doesn’t really follow a linear outline as glorified in a pamphlet for some retirement village in Florida (“You’ve worked so hard your entire life.  Now you can enjoy the fruits of your labour!”)  In some utopian version of real life, we’d probably all live comfortable, safe lives in some sunny, gentrified corner of the Western world while raging a full-out civil war in our heads.  Kind of like daily life in Star Trek with ten times the Klingons.

The truth is, I had another equally compelling inspiration to write my last post.  I wanted to write about the fun part, the part that makes it a GAME.

Quite honestly, the past few years have unraveled so quickly and fantastically for me that I’m often unable to comprehend the whirlwind of events happening around me.  I often allow the tidal waves of change carry me momentarily, until I harness enough strength to have a another surf.  It’s simultaneously confusing and delightful, like when you first set foot in the hurried commotion of a foreign city you’ve always wanted to visit.

I’m not sure if I’m convincing you if change is good thing at this point, but perhaps I’ve piqued your interest.  To reach this point of chaos, I had to lay out some groundwork – which I didn’t know I was doing at the time.  Exhausted from my grey daily routines and predicting no foreseeable improvement, I laid out each major component of my life – health, finance, career, relationships, adventure, mental balance/spirituality – and then set a number of challenges for myself in each category.

Comfort Challenges

Each challenge would push my comfort boundaries by making me do something different.  After all, a well-known definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results.  Tim Ferriss calls them comfort challenges, but I’ve come across many synonymous terms. How did I choose the challenges?  The pre-requisites were pretty simple.  If it was new and different, it was a fair challenge.  If it made me apprehensive or uncomfortable, then it was a high-level challenge.

Mind you, the implementation stage was not easy – at the beginning.  Everyone has varying tolerances for fear.  Outside of horror movies and extreme sports (both of which don’t really count), my fear tolerance was about as low as you might think yours is.  Believe it or not, I spent a good deal of my life marvelling at other people’s social, creative, and technical abilities – things that I probably could do, but didn’t have the courage to set about doing.

When I first started experimenting with these challenges, I was often fighting against myself.  A LOT.  When you attempt to upset your reality, your mind deploys various life or death self-preservation mechanisms, such as constantly reminding you of the pleasant security of following the crowd or focusing on potential failure situations.  And not only will you have to deal with your own resistance, but you’ll also have to deal with other people’s likely criticism to your new non-conformist self.

The Game

But here’s the good part.  As I’ve mentioned before, if you challenge the status quo (without committing a crime), fantastic little changes will start sprouting with increasing frequency.  Maybe you’ll meet some great people.  Maybe you’ll look in the mirror with more confidence.  Maybe you’ll set foot somewhere exotic.  Of course, not all changes will be so great (some might lead to a slap in the face), but if you persevere and don’t beat yourself up too badly, you’ll likely reap benefits from those bumpy moments.  Remember that each experience, good or bad, is a brick in your palace.

And here’s the best part – just like learning how to play any sport, at some point, the learning curve will level out, and you will be progressively desensitized to that overwhelming fear you had when you first started.  And once formerly terrifying tasks start to approach triviality, your challenges will start to feel like a game.  Get to the point where you’re treating life as a fun game, and you’re in a really, really good place.

You won’t take yourself or others so seriously, which means you’ll waste less time protecting your ego or dealing with drama.  You’ll encounter less conflicts, manage them better, or just allow them to slip off you.  Instead, you can spend your best days having fun and enjoying each moment as it comes.  Really, why do we need to make our lives as stressful as they’ve become?

Go out and meet some elderly people in the park.  You’ll notice right away the ones that have played the game well.  They are the ones that may have had an above-average amount of turbulence in their lives, but have overcome their challenges to reach their better years content, with good energy, and looking years younger than their peers.  They might be the ones who approach you for a bit of conversation first.

Getting Started

So let me finish with some tidbits on how to get started.  First, pick the aspect of your life that’s most out of balance, and come up with a number of challenges, starting with small steps and continuing with lofty by achievable milestones along the way.  Don’t worry about changing yourself as a goal- it’s not about that yet.  Think of it as a fringe benefit.  We first just want to change our reality, our view of the world, a bit.

Write out a plan of action or simply, some challenges – things you must do, whether it be joining Toastmasters for some public speaking or buying the domain for a website you want to start.  Make sure everything is written down, because you’re infinitely more likely to follow through than if it was just floating around in your head (Remember this post?).  Not writing down what you need to do only makes you a daydreamer, just like that co-worker who constantly conjures up daily universe-changing ideas at the cafeteria (“You know what?  Someone should invent a vibrating toilet brush!“)  Try to avoid electronic documents, unless it’s something you plan on referring to very often.

This is just the tip of the iceberg, but since this post is getting lengthy, I’ll save further implementation specifics for a future post.  Stay tuned for more!

I dropped into the neighbourhood thrift shop this morning and found, nestled beside a long row of moldy VCR movies, The Game Of Life.  Dusting off the board game and my childhood memories, I definitely thought the game seemed bigger and more vibrant back then.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with the game, it more or less reflects the modern conquest of the American Dream from college to retirement.  Go to school, get a job, get married, have kids, incur debts from luxury spending, and get to retirement more or less intact.

My friends and I usually grew tired of the regular rules, so we modified them so that you could really burn through money in the game, which usually resulted in selling the car, spouse, and kids (another rule modification) to keep up with our luxurious habits and debts.  And of course, whenever we came to the marriage stop, we never grew tired of putting two blue or two pink sticks in the car.  I’m pretty sure every normal kid did the same thing too.

The game’s principal concept made me think about how most of us play the real Game of Life:

Get to the end as comfortably as possible.

This, of course, involves taking as few risks as possible.  Or settling for less than you’d like.  It may also include other minute details such as criticizing those that fall out of bounds, feigning happiness with superficial wealth, unconstrained consumption and accumulation, letting a past injustice dominate your life, or defining your entire existence, your purpose in life and the justification of your circumstances, to your spouse and kids.

I actually won’t say the above is wrong.  I really mean it.  People come from all walks of life, have different pursuits, and similarly possess varying tolerance levels for risk and failure (note: these two are inversely related, if one applies him/herself correctly) .  I confess too, that once in a blue moon, I fantasize about negotiating my way back into The Matrix.  The ones with the highest tolerances, however, seem to have come from backgrounds where their Game of Life is much more humble.  Think of the number of immigrants who’ve really made their mark in the world.  You might even know some of them as your parents or grandparents.

Of course, if you’re reading this post, then comfort is something you’ve probably learned to simultaneously love and hate.  It drops off life’s luxuries and content moments once in a while only to secretly plunder your time and energy on its way out.  You’ll have a nice home to come to, yet carry a conflicted internal dialogue rationalizing how you spent your day.  Spent as in “wasted it all away in a dull cubicle facing an Excel spreadsheet.”

Last Friday, I was teaching an older student, “Ron”, some social dancing.  Ron’s approaching 50,  and he has emphatically decided that now that he’s almost finished putting his kids through college, it’s time to re-focus on himself.  I have to admit, Ron and I really come from two different worlds.  Not apples and oranges different, but apples and Darth Vader different.  And yet, as the universe would have it, apples and Darth Vader converged last Friday to coax out the “Lady Gaga’s backup dancer” that was sheepishly hiding inside of Ron.

Somewhere in between “gangster hip-hop hands” and “how to dip me” properly, Ron and I started talking about the real Game of Life.  Piqued by curiosity upon finding out of my engineering past life,  Ron inquired about the new path I’ve taken.  I opened my heart a little and expressed some of  my self-doubts and uncertainties, to which he enthusiastically retorted:

“Hey, I’ve got a 3600 square foot house and some nice cars, but I couldn’t care less if they’re all gone.  All my kids will finish college without debt, and once the last one leaves the house, we’re downsizing.  Just a kitchen, living room, and bedroom, so there’s no chance any of them can come back.   I’ll tell you what.  All your friends want to do the same thing you’re doing, but they’re too proud to admit it.  They all hide behind their veils but secretly want to be like you. Good for you. Don’t give up.  Don’t stop what you’re doing!”

I can’t verify if my friends really envy my squalor, but at the least, it felt really good to hear some encouragement.  So, if you’re feeling a little lost, I want you to re-read what Ron said above, and pretend he’s saying it to you.  You may also assume I’m saying it to you, if that’s any better, minus the part about the giant house and sports cars.  And multiple children.

Ron’s got no regrets, which is great, because there’s nothing you can do about the past, but he’s lit a fire in his heart that he won’t disavow, which is even greater.  His wife is also going to get a killer surprise dance to boot.

Here’s the rub.  Many people will offer their advice on the real game of life.  Some will be defeated, and chime off sarcastic and cynical.  Others will dish out conservatism and practicality to the point of being religious.  The bottom line is that YOU have to distill all this advice, even mine (if there is any), stop focusing on the other people’s game, and focus on your own journey.  YOU have figure out how you want to play the game, how to make the most of it, and determine what the goals are.  At the same time, you have to remember that you’re playing right now, and the best way to succeed is to enjoy each step you take.

Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but of playing a poor hand well.

-Robert Louis Stevenson