Posts Tagged ‘love’

Know people who are stuck in the nineties? Who really think that Melrose Place being on the air was the pinnacle of good times? That somehow they were part of that campy troupe of styling blondes saying drivel like “nothing like a cold chardonnay on a hot summer night” with zero trace of irony? Melrose Place is coming back…and I fear for those who think it will be the same. Because it won’t be. Not even close. The actors are different, the writers are different and here’s the kicker, like it or not, the viewer who’s been pining for its return is different.

Our ten-year wedding anniversary is coming up on Friday. It has been a beautiful marriage with lots of laughter and love on the one hand and some pain AND growth on the other.  There is so very much to celebrate and as life would have it, for lots of reasons, we aren’t able to celebrate it in the way we’d like to…we WILL make the space and time to do it up right, it just won’t be next weekend.

So it was with a LITTLE bit of a heavy heart that I went back to the scene of the wedding reception. You see, Coach Buffet Toronto is coming up on November 17th and we need just the right place for our unique venue needs: three distinct spaces for the one-on-one coaching, workshops, and mingling to happen.  I had not as yet found the perfect spot.

I walked in the room with a slight bit of uncertainty…I didn’t really know what to expect. Would I be greeted by the happy ghosts from 10 years ago…the jazz trio’s music wafting through the halls, the laughter and excitement that only a happy occasion like a wedding brings and the air of expectations for a perfect life?

In a way, I guess I was kind of afraid to go back…because I don’t ever want to live in the past. And as I walked through the virtually unchanged space, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror that I fixed my complicated ‘do in 10 years earlier. I am no longer that young bride filled with dreams of how happily ever afters work. And that’s good. What I saw in my reflection was a different woman…still confident in the inherent goodness of the world, a steadfast believer in the power of positivity, and filled with a different brand of dream, but slightly more pragmatic, slightly more wrinkled and a hell of a lot more empowered. And that is even better.

Our wedding day was a beautiful day. As is today. As will tomorrow be. There is no need to go back to capture that beauty.

So, I am happy, nay, thrilled to announce that Coach Buffet Toronto will be held at University of Toronto’s Faculty Club. A beautiful space with neither too much pomp, nor circumstance, but with the right peppering of Group of Seven paintings and a cool academic vibe.

Moreover, I am thrilled that 10 years later, my husband will be there with me, by my side. We are different now, and that’s good.

And for you hard core Melrose Place aficionados, that lousy smug Michael may not be back, but enjoy the new and different show.


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In my life, both personally (as wife, mother, friend, citizen of the world) and professionally (as Coach and Program Facilitator), I endeavour to honour my values. As I’ve written and will continue to write, sometimes these values are at cross purposes. Choices are made as I ask which ones are most important in a given situation. Today, I choose to honour transparency.

On Wednesday afternoon, our family cat died. I was with her as she went and I know the following: we saved her from certain starvation (she was a stray who found us just before winter set in at our family cottage); she had a very good life (if not full by our standards, but lots of sun spots for lengthy snoozes, plenty of food and a perpetual place on our laps and in our arms); and she loved, above all, being a mother’s helper to us when it came to raising our daughter…she would even get cross if we upset our daughter in any way.

I also know that this will pass, that there are lessons in here for our family and that I am making a choice right now to be with this (when I could *easily* push through stoically, as our society so often dictates)…but I owe it to myself to honour my value of honesty and say the following:


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I have a tickle in my chest. It’s not nervous energy, nor a nagging feeling, nor love (though I have that in great abundance). Nope, this is good old fashioned phlegm.

No violins are necessary….I pride myself on not being one who’s life shuts down with a cold. The flipside is that I don’t get people who refuse to take a reprieve from work etc when they are TRULY sick. It makes me want to be aware of the slippery slope that is the walk from stoicism to martyrdom.

It’s a dance that I’m all too familiar with…the idea of getting caught up in “doing the right thing…at whatever cost”. At first, people look at you with admiration for your courage, tenacity, strength (fill in the blank). This phase is one that I’m quite addicted to. Then those adoring looks turn to head shaking. I could do without that. What I love about colds (I never thought I’d write those words), is that they keep you honest. I’ve been on an emotional high for the past little while with no signs of letting up. But my body is saying “if you don’t slow down, you’re going to get the head-shaking of a lifetime…in the form of mucous” (BTW, I have many voices in my head…infer what you will…I choose to call them “perspectives”). So…I look at this upcoming day from two perspectives: “Wonder Woman” who can do it all without breaking a sweat and “Bubby Tanya” who nurtures and coddles. Wonder Woman will have me honour 7 of my 9 commitments today (one to a friend, two to family, three to clients, one to my business advisor) while Bubby Tanya will make sure I have a big helping of homemade chicken soup, go to bed early and “rest rest”.

I’ve heard said that you’re either moving towards or away from balance…and I don’t have the formula figured out in a real and practical way…but listening to my body is a pretty decent start.

And now I’m back off to bed.

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Pleased to meet you

This painting is called “A tornado of roses”. The inspiration: a blank canvas, a good bottle of wine from McLaren Vale, a free night and our daughter’s [fleeting] love of The Wizard of Oz. And brown, spring green and red.

Painting for just for us is a gift my husband and I have given ourselves over the last couple of years. Neither of us are painters (as you may be able to see) but we love the idea of original work…but don’t have the art budget of Steve Martin

Like all good gifts, the joy isn’t in the receiving…but in the giving. Yes, we have something that we like on our wall. But the process of painting is where the honey is at. For me, it forces me to trust in the creative instincts of my husband and relinquish my stand-by notion of absolute control. And his instincts? Damn fine. And for me for me? It forces me to trust in my OWN creativity and to be done with defeatist thoughts that link quality outcomes to trained expertise. Not an actual painter? Not an actual problem. This painting is third in our series of “Doing For Us”. We love the process, the product and our daughter takes it for granted that Mommy and Daddy paint for fun (she thinks this one in particular is “beautiful”…but then again she thinks I “sing like an angel” so her artistic senses might not be overly developed at 5 years old).

Art critics, don’t worry…we’d never presume to darken the doorways of a gallery with our oversized canvases and demean the work of those who have suffered for their art. This gift is just for us and our own walls.

Luckily we have several more blank walls in our home; a canvas sale coming up at our local art store; some good red wine waiting; and, a continued love of colour, joy and fun.

Welcome to my blog.

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