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~Well Well Chanel

24 Sep
A few months ago I wrote a post in complete and utter anger to Coco Chanel in regards to something she always used to say; “Don’t spend time beating on a wall, hoping it will transform into a door.”
No, I’m not taking my words back at all. In fact, f**k you Coco Chanel for your blunt stupid words that take hope away. I’m bringing up that post simply because we were beating on that wall, so hard and at times that we’d crumple in tears and in vain we’d sob. I wished, I prayed with every fibre of my being and soul that this wouldn’t be the outcome. We all wanted to take my mother’s place, the world would be better if she stayed and we went. I’m bringing up that earlier post because I want to reflect. Reflection is good. 

The entire time we were moving on a crumbling dance floor, it was coming out from under us and yet the only thing we could do was continue forward. What choice did we have?  We can’t just jump off this crazy train and say “Alright, I’m done, tired of this, I need something new and exciting.” No. The choice was made for us, and it’s too bad you know? Cause we’re all such control freaks; for something like this to happen beyond the reach of our grasping fingertips; it’s unimaginable. What on earth? How can this be? How will our world continue to spin without such love and beauty, devotion and care?

Well it must spin on, I guess. I am beyond thankful for my family and we’ll move forward together…

A few months ago, when my family discovered what Mom was suffering from we, none of us, understood the gravity and the result of the circumstance. But here we are now, and it’s been a week and day since my family has said goodbye to mom. It’s surreal. I can’t even think to describe the ache and the weight of hurt our hearts feel. Only those who have also lost someone so dear and precious will comprehend…hardship is not relative, hardship is hard.

A few months ago, I had believed with all my aching heart that Mom would recover, because loosing her would mean living without her. Of course I’d thought Mom would go to the hospital, have the extra bout with chemo, come back and she’d be ok, not fine, not great, but ok, she’d be alive. I’d even signed up to do a FearlessChallenge thinking if I threw myself into this… ugh. My heart and my head were floating on a cloud of illusion and they’ve come down now. Because now Mom is gone and yet, not really gone.

BUT, and here it is Coco Chanel; I’m not angry. Of course I’m hurting. Of course I’m broken. Of course I miss her terribly, and I hate that I can’t hug her or tell her I love her. BUT I am not angry. You know the clichés are true? I feel my mom everywhere. No I’m not crazy. I feel her, and I talk to her always. It’s a constant conversation. Here’s the thing, even when I was living in Beijing, I would talk to mom, when I got on a plane I’d say; “Well Mama, here we go again…”I wish I’d told her that. Now I know that she won’t see the photos I take or hear about my adventures I have. But I’m not angry Coco Chanel.

There is beauty if you choose to find it. On September 20th, the day of Mom’s funeral, the sun was shining and it was my nephew’s birthday. He turned seven. And when we came home from saying goodbye, there was a rainbow waiting for us. There was pain and there was life and throughout the entire day I felt Mom just smiling away.

smiling mom

We were hammering on that wall and I truly do believe it turned into a door. I truly do Coco Chanel. It’s not the door I had wanted it to be, but it’s a door none-the-less.

That being said, we will forever and always love and miss you mom. That won’t change.

Us happy people gotta stick together.

Giving won’t bring my mother back it will let someone else keep theirs. Please check out blood.ca to find a clinic and give.

Oh hello hi! Have a Happiness Experience you'd like to share? Well share it here by sending me an email (triciamariadm@gmail.com). AND after you've done that the paradigm of logic states you should like FindingFelicity on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/findingfelicityproject) Pretty please help me spread a smile, and some awareness. Muchos Gracias! Merci Beaucoup! 谢谢! 
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my atypical affair

9 Mar

She casually applied a bright shade of red lipstick and said coldly, “You’re not boring, I’ll give you that.” But still she tapped her foot impatiently.

“It was never in my list of attributions,” he smirked and uncorked a bottle of 1985 Pinot Noir, “You enjoy dry wine?”

“Mmmm, yes,” she took a sip and nodded in appreciation, “But not my favourite.”

He glanced down at the bottle. An expensive bottle, blinked and sighed in resignation, “Unreadable. I’ll give you that.”

“Good. That’s my goal.”

She’s playing it cool, but in reality her heart is beating as fast as a team of wild horses. If he  had bothered to look closer at her, he’d have noticed her hands fidgeting and shaking. But his ego was scorned and now he would give anything to have the upper hand in what was going on. After all, he was supposed to be the unreadable one. 

“I called you.”

“I know you did,” he said and flicked open his lighter, lit a cigarette and took a long drag.

She shoved her hands in her pockets, took a step back, hesitated and finally choked out, “I didn’t know you smoked.”

He pulled the collar up around to his chin, creating an even greater barrier between them, “There’s a lot you don’t know.”

“I see.”

A gust of wind blew her auburn hair in her eyes, she brushed it away thoughtlessly. He would have given anything to be the one to do that a few days ago. But that was then. This is now.

“What happened with this?” she asked and motioned with her hand between the two of them.

***

Perhaps the couple above got things sorted. Perhaps they didn’t. Both were wrapped in themselves, caring too much about their own appearance and not focusing on the other. Both wanted to fast-forward past the awkward bits. She wants him to be madly in love with her but isn’t willing to compromise her feelings and vis versa. Their pride got in the way. 

***

I’ve come to notice a few things about myself and relationships. How they begin, how they end. I’ve realized that it closely resembles my connection, my affair if you will, with writing.  The ups and the downs. They both follow the same pattern.

We meet. I play coy. We hit it off. We hang out for a while. Slowly growing closer. But then I drift off, lose interest and by the same token, so does he. We were never very close to begin with anyways, so it shouldn’t really matter. But in the end, I’m still hurt, needy, just a tad and I wonder why it happened at all in the first place.

And so it’s the same with my writing, my poetry and my blogging. We meet. I play coy. We hit it off. Again slowly growing closer. I hang on to it for a while, but then I lose interest, commitment. I drift off. Our “closeness” was only ever an illusion anyways, so it shouldn’t really matter. But at the end of the day, I’m needy, I wonder what went wrong. Why did we drift so far apart?

Effort. Patience. That’s what’s lacking. Like with the couple first written about, the effort and the simple pure fact that pride overrides the want for “something more”. As with my relationships, I’ve always given my pride a cushy pillow, and taken the short cuts to success.

Not really concerned with if it were to be read by anyone. I didn’t (and still don’t) care whether it would flow or make any continuous sense. I wrote what I thought should be written. Perhaps baring myself to bare. I write based on a pattern discovered in Hollywood.

Actresses who show their top nude are more likely to win an Oscar

Attempting to get recognition the fast way. Anyone who knows anything about relationships would tell me that things take time. I want writing and I to hit the big time the fast way. Just like I want a relationship to happen with the snap of my fingers.

No waiting involved.

Upon further examination; where the couple above “forgot” to mention their want or need for each other, they could have admitted a little “human”ness about them. Instead the situation could have gone something like this:

***

“If I were to tell you, that you’re amazing,” she took a deep breath, “what would you say?”

“I would say, you’re quite amazing yourself,” he whispered and gently clasped her hand.

And then this would happen:

love affair

***

Pure and simple.

 

Date Yourself.

19 Nov
Drake Minibus, Kigali

Drake Minibus, Kigali (Photo credit: AdamCohn)

It has become apparent to me, over time that many people don’t think too positively about themselves. duh.

Even Marylin Monroe had negative thoughts. Even Gregory Peck. Justin Timberlake has negative thoughts and so does Drake. So does Barack Obama; so does Stephen Harper. Do not ask me why I picked these names, they simply popped in my head.

We’re insecure. We have low opinions about ourselves. A friend of mine said: “It’s not an attractive quality.” Ok got it. Another friend of mine said that I let people see it. Oops. At least these friends are honest with me.

Didn’t realize there was a stigma on being open. But sadly there is, people judge by what they see and hear from you. Can you catch me while I’m thinking negative thoughts? Nope. But when I voice them; yes you can.

Mental  note: Keep feelings/thoughts to myself.

We continually, measure ourselves to an arbitrary standard. Everyone does it, but it’s whether you notice it or not is the difference.

Your opinion affects me. Everyone’s opinion affects me. But especially those of the people who love me most.

Only because of my insecurities.

My human need and want to please. If I’m not making you happy, than why on earth would I do what I did? Why else would I challenge myself?

For my own gain; to impress myself? No. It’s to impress you, to impress the world. To “stick it” and shout; “Yeah I’ve completed that challenge. What next?” For my own happiness? Perhaps I benefit, but really truly I gain nothing if you aren’t or the world isn’t impressed.

Many people feel the same way.

Some people know, others have heard. Why not make it public? I am an insecure person. BUT who isn’t? The difference here being…I let people see it. Oops. Perhaps I should hide myself a little more from what people see. I used to be really good at that. Maybe I reverted to the opposite extreme.

Where on earth is the middle ground? Did a little bit of research.

There is a significant lack of self-acceptance in our lives. 

We insecure beings have aspects in our lives that will never be good enough. For example, if I think I’m not physically attractive, that will be the hole through which my insecurity flows.

Negativity. It becomes the worst ruler of how you see yourself.  We attempt to hide these faults, but they soon begin to eat away at our perceived confidence.  Soon the person that we’ve built ourselves to be, comes crashing down and we are rubble.

I met a fellow who literally apologized for everything he did. His name was Karl. I could not stand him. Only because I saw qualities in him that reminded me…of who? Myself.

Yeah and he was frustrating. Only because he was quite awesome and didn’t need affirmation. So why should he always apologize?  I mean he was wonderful, why apologize? He was desperate, but he didn’t need to be.

If you’re reading this, you should then infer that I know; I am pretty great. Yup. I am very awesome. And I know it. No doubt about it.

BUT more importantly. So are you. How to make ourselves realize this?

Okay so here is what you and I must do. Let’s work together on this.

Accept ourselves.

Believe and see our weaknesses as aspects that are beneficial to who we are. We are specific, and our weaknesses are what make us human. We are not going forgetting about those things, actually our vulnerability is what makes us beautiful. Are you open about your faults? Good.

Reform it.

Stop it.

Stop thinking those negative thoughts. They’ll not help you. You already know how lovely you are; let’s start from there. Now, put what you see in a positive light.

Make peace with your demons. List everything that has been a deep insecurity, look at each one, work on accepting them and simply come to terms with them. It’ll be hard. But nothing worth doing in life was easy. Am I right or am I right?

We’ll do it together. Arrive at what are our limitations, treat them as attributes and move on. That is all we can do as humans.

Confused? Ok I’ll break it down into one simple sentence:

Get to know yourself first.

Note: I’ll come back and edit this when I’m not sooo tired.

F-dora

3 Nov

So, now I am back in Beijing. If someone were to ask me on Monday if I was glad to be back. I would bluntly reply, “No.” But then maybe on Tuesday or Wednesday, if asked the same question…I’d probably say the same thing.

Come on it’s still only the middle of the week. Cut me a break.

Thursday comes around and that same person asks again, “Tricia are you glad you came back?” I’d say, “Yeah, it’s super great! Couldn’t be happier.”

Yeah, you see, and I’m certain it’s the same for most foreigners living abroad, it’s a day-to-day thing. Maybe for some a week-to-week thing, others a month-to-month…you get my meaning. All of the above to say that well we’re here and not dwelling on why we came back. We should focus on the moment.

Here and Now.

Right now…here and now. I mean if we’re going with this whole “focus on the moment” thing;

I am currently:

  1. Listening to Def Leppard
  2. Wearing a fedora, alone in my apartment
  3. Drinking some wine (it’s cheap stuff)
  4. Writing this post

Seriously. You think I’m joking? No, not even. I even went to the trouble of taking a photo of myself. Here:

Mhmm. Let’s address my current situation.

1. For starters Def Leppard, has been my “go-to” band for music. 80’s rock for something sparks a something in me. Allows me to pretend like I’m in a band or that my life is a musical.  They make me feel awesome when I’m going for a walk, when I’m blowing off steam and even when I’m in the mood to reminisce. I particularly love the song: Pour Some Sugar on Me. Great song. Love it.

Maybe the reason for why I desperately cling to them relates directly to the fact that many of their songs were used in the musical movie Rock of Ages. I watched that movie on the plane ride back from Canada. I was hysterical and I needed something to make me forget…and I was handed a musical. What better way to forget sadness, than to sing through it?

2. Wearing the fedora bit. Well I’ve always wanted one, wanted to be like Marlon Brando, or like Frank Sinatra in “Guys and Dolls.” They are so suave and untouchable it seems. And as pitiful or as amusing as it sounds. I kinda would like to be like them; suave and untouchable. You call it lame, I call it “super-cool.”

3. Bought at the 7-Eleven for about 30 kuai which is roughly 5$ CAD. Good stuff. I am not ashamed. I am also not being facetious.

4. Well, just felt like writing. Haven’t been in the mood lately and suddenly the thought struck me…why not write a post.

Really this post is about nothing.BUT I guess the message I’m trying to send is that I’m okay with it. I am. I mean it. Sure it might not be the most awesome way to spend a Saturday night. But for me the combo (Def Leppard, a fedora, cheap wine and writing) is parfait.

Now this is turning into a self-help post. So if you’re feeling; well alone. Find a combo that transforms  you from a regular drone into a human being and just go with it. All ’em haters (love that term and have always wanted to use it!) will say things; but really, they’re jealous. You’ve found a spark and they’re still searching for it.

Now that’s metaphorical gold that you can take to the proverbial bank.

insert (Gripping Title) here

29 Sep

Same photo that has appeared on the FB. This is Pawan and I in Vrindavan, India at Jaisiyaram; singing “Row Row Row Your Boat”…I would have to say that never have I ever had so much joy than teaching these simple songs…if I could relive a moment. Thank you Ramona for sending me this photo.

Promise me you’ll read the entire post.

I don’t know what makes people read my blog, and maybe my readership consists mostly of my family. Oh well it makes me feel good to look at the stats now and then and see someone in Qatar is reading my words. It puts a bit of pressure on me to be super awesome when I write something.

That’s hard!

Oh the competition these days, oh the weight of trying to “make it” in a world that is so empathetic to the petite efforts of little me. One could succumb to the depth and enormity of it all you know. Give up entirely. I mean really, why am I writing these blogs? Am I trying to make it “viral” someone accidentally be discovered?

You want honesty, I’ll give you blunt honesty. Yes, I want that. I want to be “discovered.” Like Justin Beiber,  like Colbie Caillat. Who else? Oh J.K. Rowling. And that girl, Julie Powell, who wrote a blog about trying all the recipes in Julia Child‘s cookbook. She made it, her blog became a book, and then a movie for goodness sakes! Yes I want that to happen to me.

Let’s carry it on a little further. Listening to AM640 Talk Radio yesterday, while driving to Toronto, and The Mike Stafford came on. They were discussing a fellow who had made a public comment, and now he was on the news and TV shows…I thought to myself, “Yes, this is what I will do!”

My Devised Method 

1. Upload a video of my awesome singing/dancing skills and then Usher will see it and I’ll hit the “big-time”.

2. Have superbly awesome writing skills and an imagination to create something that would capture the hearts and minds of the world. Write in a cafe, where I can look out the window, see a castle and envision an entire fantasy.

3. Create and keep up a blog many people will read and appreciate. But what’s his face (I think his name is Ryan?) on The Mike Stafford Show said, “Who blogs anymore these days?” Dang, okay. And I’ll be honest I’m going to tag all those famous people in here, and hope they read it…who knows maybe they will.

4. State a controversial comment on this blog, or my FB or my Twitter, and have the news focus on: Me. What can I say that hasn’t been said?

Hmmm

Let’s check in with reality…

Will it happen? Most likely no. And I have to settle myself down with the simple fact that my strength lies in being the Canadian, Tricia Demmers. Also please don’t read with judgment because I’ll bet somewhere deep inside your “denial of fame”, you kind of wish it would happen to you too. And that is okay. BUT I’m still reaching for the stars of course, I’m not giving up my dream of somehow making it as a writer/journalist/foreign correspondent/whatever will come along. Nope. Who ever got anywhere by giving up on their dreams? NOBODY.

Sigh*                                           You still reading?

Okay so why is there a photo of me with a little boy singing a song in this post? Excellent question dear reader (whoever you might be…mom if it’s you, well I give you a “high-five” through the internet cloud). It is to remind myself (and the reader) :

1. Wonderful opportunities come without asking. We need to be thankful for what comes my way when we go searching.

2. Power in being small. Sometimes hitting the “big-time” means you lose individuality. I would like to keep mine. 

3. You never know who will influence with the character you’re becoming.

Basically I shouldn’t have to “need” thousands of readers or “Likes” on this post to know what is captured in the photo above is priceless. It would be reassuring, but it’s only because my human need for approval unfortunately outweighs the purity of the above knowledge. Sad but true. I mean why else would I write this up on the world-wide web right?

To be honest I’m uncertain about how to put a “slam-bank” finish to this…so

The End.

 

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