I put out a call for blog ideas and this is what I got...

I thought it was a stroke of genius* on my part to put out a call for new blog ideas so I could expand my scope of topics, challenge my thinking and develop myself - One of my oldest friends got back to me rather quickly.

After reading what she sent me twice, I actually muttered, "WTF am I going to do with this?" As I said, she is one of my oldest friends and a real sweetheart, so it would simply be wrong of me not to give it that ol' college try.

BTW, this is what she sent me:

"We're all about lightness and novelty in our society, but sometimes there's merit to keeping 'things' as totems, or physical reminders of good times in the past. I think sometimes, we're all about the pristine and sterile and we shouldn't be afraid of the layers of treasures and detritus that build up over the course of a lifetime." 

I like to tell everyone that on a daily basis I work with a 1000 word vocabulary; holding true to this conviction, I had to look up "detritus" [dəˈtrīdəs] which is defined as waste or debris of any kind. I will say literary interpretation has never been a strong suit of mine but then again I did say "I wanted to expand my scope of topics, challenge my thinking and develop myself", so I guess I got what I asked for.

No doubt there is innuendo regarding the youth culture and beautification of everything around us, with the "novelty" of fresh faced potential being preferred to the weathered face of experience; continually trying to retain order in what is believed to be an "unspoiled" image before the chaos and layers of a life lived has settled in. To this, there is a reminder that a life truly lived has both treasures and detritus (see above definition) and reflects our journey - All of which should be embraced and not feared.

But the question has to be asked, "Why only totems for the treasures when a life truly lived embraces the detritus as well?" I get that keeping 'things' as totems of the good times is much more enjoyable then that of the bad times - I mean, who needs the pain?

However, if these "totems" are seen more as signposts of a life lived and not as good or bad memories, they become "markers" of where we have been, what we have accomplished, the sights we've seen, and are forever reminding us of how far we've come - All to be celebrated as a life being lived.

And if we are willing to share our totem's stories, they become signposts for those who are finding their way.

I hope I have done well by my old friend,

iamgpe

* An example of a real stoke of genius is the 3M Sticky Note... what I did, not so much.


 

 

Something "bigger than yourself"...

Tomorrow, three long time friends and I will set off on a journey to ride our bicycles 210 (or so) kilometres over two days. The journey will meander through well marked country roads, have regular rest stops (with food and beverage) and will involve 5000 riders; other than a little soreness from the "saddle", our journey will be a safe one. Not a great testimony to challenging the limits of physical strength and endurance, but still a feat worth celebrating with a beer or two. 

The 2015 Ride to Conquer Cancer

The 2015 Ride to Conquer Cancer

The riders, each having committed to raise money for the fight against cancer, will collectively (if history is any indicator) realize $20 million in donations for the efforts of a weekend... all to support those who've fought cancer, are fighting cancer, and will fight cancer in the future; most of whom we will never know - Now this is a great testimony to the strength and spirit of the human condition to be sure.

There is a moment before you start, surrounded by 5000 like minded people in a sea of same coloured jerseys when you realize you're part of something much bigger than yourself. A glimpse into the positive and negative aspects of existence as a human being and an understanding of the broader community of human courage, strength, commitment, compassion, sacrifice, and determination in which nothing is insurmountable. 

So I will ride with three of my good friends and 4,996 new friends and as a community, will strive to see cancer defeated in our lifetime.

"There but for the grace of god, go I"

iamgpe

 

A shameless plea to support a very noble purpose (with an endearing story included as a thank you).

There is a certain helplessness that comes with watching a sister or a dear friend battle cancer and ultimately succumb to this horrible disease - It is in the simple act of riding my bike in the Ride To Conquer Cancer that I can, in the most humble of ways, do something to fight back. 

In memory of family and friends, as well as to support family and friends that are currently fighting the good fight*, I ask you to donate generously by clicking on this link - I promise to ride my heart out. 

With my shameless plea out on the table, I wanted to offer some statistics regarding cancer, as it will touch you either directly or indirectly in your lifetime. Also I've included a short, creatively written story of two young boys and one tiny frog... my way of thanking you for reading my plea for your support.

First the statistics, and although they are Canadian, I am quite sure they echo the situation in almost all countries around the world:

  • An estimated 196,900 new cases of cancer and 78,000 deaths from cancer will occur in Canada in 2015 (the final numbers are being tallied).
  • More than half (about 51%) of all new cases will be prostate, breast, lung and colorectal cancers.
  • About 2 in 5 Canadians will develop cancer in their lifetimes and 1 in 4 will die of the disease.
  • 63% of Canadians diagnosed with cancer will survive at least 5 years after their diagnosis.
  • At the beginning of 2009, there were about 810,045 Canadians living with a cancer that had been diagnosed in the previous 10 years.  Click here to read more.  

Fighting cancer is a noble purpose.

And now for that story I promised you -

Frog heaven... the place where all good frogs go.

This story, now seen through the illuminated eyes of adulthood, seems to find its way into the conversation every time a friend and I get together; it is a narrative of childhood, innocence and two young boys' interpretation of doing the right thing - A conversation that seems to always carry an air of guilt with it. But at the time and being ten years old, the conversations were of our adventures and the exploits of great explorers wandering the undeveloped fields in the neighbourhood. It was early summer and we were far too young to be carrying anything that resembled guilt. 

As we explored around large mounds, scraggily brush, ponds and bull rushes is wasn't long until we had successfully cornered and captured a great prize; as memory serves, it got away from us a couple of times, but in the end the frog was ours. Our status as great hunters had been confirmed because after all, this is what young boys do (as well as collect insects in an old pickle jar with the lid poked full of holes for proper air circulation) - We had proven ourselves once again. With quarry in hand, we decided then and there to make the frog our pet and look after it with all the care that a ten year old boy could muster. 

Off to my friend's house we ran with said frog securely in hand.

It wasn't long before we had constructed the perfect residence for our frog consisting of an open cardboard box (just deep enough to keep the frog safely inside), lots of grass, some sticks and a few rocks; all nestled snuggly at the back of the garage. I vaguely remember the two of us wondering why our new pet wasn't moving very much and maybe he was hungry; this was when my friend's father pulled into the driveway. We were off like a shot down the driveway to greet him, share the day's adventure and show off our new pet (who by the way was never named, and will always just be known to me as "frog"). 

As my friend's father (who seemed very tall) inspected our handy work, I remember him in a very "fatherly way" explain to us that the frog belonged in the wild, he was suffering and would die if we kept him in his newly fashioned home. With that all said, he went inside and we were left with our ten year old thoughts - So it was back to the wilds of the pond with our suffering frog (who we now believed was going to die) and we would put it out of its misery. We had to stop his suffering after all (which we were acutely aware we had caused), and realized to do so, we had to kill the frog.

At this point you should keep reading and cut us some slack as we were now grappling with some rather lofty concepts... besides, we weren't murders, we were ten.

When we get back to the pond, and after much debate over the most appropriate method to euthanize our beloved pet frog, we had decided on "drowning"; the technique of choice would involve a piece of string with one end tied to the frog's leg and the other to a rock. I'm almost sure this was fashioned after something we saw on a black and white TV. 

In the end, after many attempts of securing the string to the frog, then the string to the dirt lump, then the string to the frog and the rock, and after poking the frog down every time he came surface, we found ourselves staring down on the frog at the bottom of the pond. We waited a couple of minutes until we were satisfied we had put his suffering to an end and then headed home (we were already late for dinner).

There has been a fair bit of speculation and perspective over the years regarding this situation and our culpability. After all, being an amphibian, a frog can hold its breath a rather long time; the debate will forever continue. What I can tell you, there is a small part of me that hopes the God up in frog heaven isn't much of a talker when she goes to any deity meetings.

Thank you for reading and your support,

iamgpe

* My uncle was recently diagnosed with cancer and I wrote a blog on "fighting the good fight". He has gone through four rounds of chemo, continues to "fight the good fight" and is winning!