Living outside the Box

A few days ago I took a picture and posted it on both my FB and IG of a Bald Eagle sitting in a land fill site. Now, that was not the only one I saw. In fact, I counted at least 30 both young and matur. It is sad really, that this majestic bird of  prey would be sitting amongst refuse looking for its next meal.  

I love seeing wild animals in the habitat that they were created to be in. Such as an eagle with wings spread in the air riding the hot air currents both enjoying what is was meant to be and searching for its next meal. Instead, 30 birds of prey were sitting there either on heaps of trash or a jutted rock peaking out from the surface of the ground almost begging for a meal. The white plumes that I am used to seeing were marred with dirt; almost brownish white. How sad! In reality these birds are living outside the box.
It made me wonder how many times that my duties as a husband and father stopped short of being what it is supposed to be. By nature I am a selfish person. I am short tempered and can be cynical. That in itself is a cause for alarm because I know what my family needs from me. My wife needs a strong, loving, caring and understanding man who is aware of her needs even when she does not tell me. My children need a role model that will reflect what a father really is. Loving, caring, nurturing, yet can be stern when needs to be.
You see, that is who I am really supposed to be - not that selfish, cynical person I grew up as.  If I chose to sit in the land fill and beg for my existence then I will be a miserable, uncaring, ungrateful, unloving,  unforgiving person.  That is not what is expected of me

I know for a fact what The Creator made me to be. To function at  the capacity that makes me live life to the fullest I need to be caring, thankful, grateful loving, understanding and approachable. I have to work hard at this - my wife will be the first to tell you that. 

When I do live this life, with my wings spread apart and catching the heat pockets and soaring high in the sky, my life functions as it should be: as a husband and father. It is then and only then,  I know that I am functioning how I know I am made to be.
Stop for a moment and think about it:  Are you living, enjoying life with your wings spread open? Are you existing, sitting in the landfill knowing that you ought to be elsewhere?

Migwetch  and Baamaapii

Trying To Hide the Obvious!

I read an article online that spoke of the increasing pleasure, allure, mysticism, romanticizing of 'Americans -I'm sure Canadians - who are claiming Native American blood ties. Particularly to the Cherokee. It made me smile that people would actually be proclaiming this not realizing that those of us who are truly Anishinawbe - in the sense of growing up and feeling the exploitation and harassment that many lived through. By no means do I mean to offend anyone of you who are proud of  your  Anishinawbe heritage and  are fortunate that you did not live through this sort of ordeal.
I say all this to begin the real reason for this blog and its title "Trying to Hide the Obvious"
Growing up on a reserve, I  lived in a household - in which many native people can relate to - where alcohol was a normal part of living. From a very early age I 'believed that being Indian was associated to alcohol, fighting, not finishing school and so on. Where I got these ideas from I don't know. Some of them were experienced by my Nish peers who would tease me because of how my parents lived, while others came from the media and my observations of life around me.  
Thus, began the path I took called a  low self image. A very low self image at that.  Right from my childhood years of playing organized sports in the nearby town and rubbing shoulders with the 'white people' on my team I always felt lower than them.  Throughout my teen and young adult years I was crippled by the fact that I 'was Indian' and had believed in a stereotypical image that was keeping me from living a life a life I only hoped for and reaching for goals that I only dreamed of.
Whenever I got together in a room full of people, the nagging question on my mind was if the white people knew I was Indian.
Here is a small list of things I did to try and hide my Nish-ness
-  During the long days of  summer I would buy the highest UVB rated sunblock and go through bottles of it just so I   wouldn't get dark. I was  trying to hide the obvious.
-  I would wear longer sleeved shirts in the sultry summer days of Southern Ontario just to make sure the sunblock worked.
-  I always tried to have more white friends than Nish friends, so I could try and hide the obvious.
-  I purposely kept my marks in grade school and high school  at a level far below my level of intelligence just so my Nish peers would not mock me.
-  I was embarrassed in post secondary school if I were asked which Native community I was from.
-  I was embarrassed to be part of anything Nish - although deep down I wanted to express who I was.
-  I was embarrassed to show my status card when purchasing items in order to receive the sales tax redemption,
- The list goes one: this is only scratching the surface.
Looking back at all the things I did to hide the obvious was really stupid. If you were to look at any pictures of me it is quite obvious - I'm Nish!  It hindered me. It crippled me. It choked life out of me.  It enslaved me. It kept me from reachibg my full potential.

. It kept me from becoming a productive member of society because  I was too self absorbed with trying to hide the obvious.
Today, I am proud to be and accept what other people knew -I am Nish. What changed you may ask? Well it was a verse out of the Bible. Jeremiah 13:23 that did it for me,  "Can an Ethiopian change the colour of his skin? Can a leopard take away its spots?" My answer was No. I realized that all this energy I was using to hide what was obvious was going to waste - on my selfish thoughts. Change didn't happen over night. It was a process of letting go of things and accepting what was. Change is still happening today.
I realize now that the majority of people look at me as another human being, no different from them although they may see a  Handsome Nish guy - probably wishing there were like me.
Yes, there are others who see me and loathe the fact that I am Nish. WHO CARES!
Regrets, yes. The fact that I never reached my childhood goal. One that I wanted so badly as a teenager. One that I hope one day, one of my children may aspire to be.
Until next time.

For those of you interested in reading that article I mentioned. Here is the link:
http://www.dailyyonder.com/cherokee-syndrome/2011/02/08/3170

He called me Chief

The last time I saw him, he was in the hospital - his health degrading quickly. I had to leave and I knew in my heart of hearts this day would be my last to see him alive. I shook his hand for the last time, with a lump in my throat. He grasped my hand gently (if you knew him he was known for his hearty hand shakes one that would make a gorilla wince in pain); smiled that radiant smile of his and said, "Chief, your hands are cold. You better warm up." I smiled and said I would. With that I told him that I had to leave for a few days and would be back to see him soon. He said his 'yah, yah' like he always did. I hugged my wife and walked out of his hospital room with a tear streaming down my cheek. It was my right cheek- why I remember that I have no idea.I sat in my truck and wept, knowing that when I left our 'little city' my next trip home would be for a funeral.
This man, was my father in law. A man who had a smile that could light up a room and a laugh that could certainly be heard throughout the house. I first met him in 2002 and was introduced to that vise grip like hand shake that really, in all honestly could bring a gorilla to its knees. Over the next 10 years I got to know him he told me of his days as a child in Germany. How he lived through WW2 and how he was looked upon to help his family through the rough times. I sat listening to countless hours of his immigration to Canada and how he worked the mines from Ontario to British Colombia. To eventually settling down in a quaint village that sits on the Trans Canada Highway in Northwestern Ontario. He was a jack of all trades and at 78 years of age was still able to out work many in their 20's, except me of course - yeah right!
Well early one morning I had a dream. It was he and I riding in a bus or a train. I cannot recall. All I know was that we were the only passengers. He was laying down and still in his hospital gown. We were talking and laughing about many things of which I cannot recall. I do know we were having a great time . Then suddenly, our mode of transportation began to slow down.  He smiled at me and said, "Chief my ride is almost done."
He then proceeded to tell me, "Thank you for coming into Martina's life and making her happy. I have never seen her so happy.  Take care of her for me and tell her I love her."
With this he shook my hand and said, "Your hands are still cold, warm up will you."
Then I woke up. With a tear streaming down my right cheek.

Rest In Peace, Erwin. you will be truly missed.

Roller Coasters

A few years back while the family was on holidays we went to Canada's Wonderland. WHAT an AMAZING TIME. I went on this roller coaster - it was a new one at the time - called the Behemoth. The first drop is like a 75% grade at about 2,000 feet up (seemed like it a the time). One literally has about a 5 inch hang time off his seat and in about 2 minutes the ride is over. I did the ride 2 times. I love coasters, the thrill of drop, the speed, the hands up in the air, and the feeling of the stomach - you know what I mean.
Well today it is Feb 22, 202 and I along with my wife am experiencing another roller coaster. This time with family. My father in law is in the hospital - going on 7 days. My wife and I have been back n forth from home and work as  result. He is not doing well. Now our son - he was admitted for a bad lung infection - going on his 4th day.  Now we are balancing being with him in one room and her father in another room. I am grateful it is the same hospital. OH, did I mention that we have the mother in law who is in need of care on a constant basis and to top it off: our other kids at home, I am sure wondering what is going on. Honestly,  I write this with tear running down my cheek because of the inner turmoil of being home with our other kids and being here with our very sick one. 
I went home last night to sleep in my comfy bed. Our youngest, saw me and was so happy to see me. She crawled into my arms and started crying. There were the two of us on the couch crying together. My other two were just as happy to see me although they didn't cry I knew they were glad I was there.
I don't like this roller coaster: the drop, the feeling in my stomach, the inner turmoil. When will it stop?
I don't know when this roller coaster will end but I do know that my kids know we are there for them; they know  I am there for them.
Oh I failed to mention that our well had run dry 4 days ago and we are without water for a while. I checked today and the well is filling up again. HOPE.
All I know is that one section of this ride will end in tears and sorrow  and the other will end in gratefulness that a little one will be home and will soon be better.
I sure am grateful for friends and family who are by our side helping us here at home and in the hospital. I love communities that stick together.
Two roller coasters: one of fun and the other of life events.
Thanks for reading and praying

Destiny Loads the Gun

I read a book recently, well still am in fact. Its the story of  John Furlong, the man instrumental in bringing the 2010 Winter Olympics to Canada. He tells of a relationship with his father that is unique and to me at least, foreign. It was a close knit, looking up to his hero sort of relationship. Early in his life John's father told him, "What's going to separate you from others is how hard you are prepared to work." I read those words and it was like a blast of explosives that when off - an echo I still hear to this day. Call me empty headed or what but I really can still fell the effects of those words.
It was then I had to think of my life, up until that point. I thought back to the days of  of grad school and high school that I wanted to become the first doctor that my community had. My life took another direction - I still wrestle with the feelings if it was the wisest choice. By now you are asking yourself what happened, why did I not choose to become a doctor?  Well, it was the lack of encouragement from those who I looked up to the most during the most impressionable years of my life - my teachers. DESTINY LOADS THE GUN.  You know the usual questions, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" I would tell them I want to be a doctor. I can still see the smile - now to think of it a smile of amusement - well Randall you have to work really hard and get good  grades but you may want to think of something else. All throughout school, perhaps up until about grade 10 I gave up the dream! I did get one victory out of it though, I won the grade 12 Chemistry award for my high school year. He, my teacher was one of my biggest cynics. One of the few 'role models' who I told of my ambition when driving me home from volleyball practice in grade 9 - funny I never really spoke to him much again after that.  When I won my award I walked up to him and told him I was thankful for him teaching me and was so happy to prove him wrong. YEAH BABY!
DO I have regrets? BIG TIME. If I would of believed in myself I know to this day I would of achieved a dream that faded with the sun like the morning fog.What do I do about it today? FOCUS on a new generation of children who have potential, who are not scarred by damage done from a generation before them. I am willing and able to instill in my children a lifelong experience of believing in them, so that they can believe in themselves. DESTINY LOADS THE GUN. I am going to make sure that my children are going to have such a belief in themselves that it will almost seem arrogant. When they fail - and they will-  I will be there to help them up, cry with them, laugh with them and let them know, that their hard work is going to separate them from everyone else. Destiny loads the gun; but training pulls  the trigger. If only I knew what that meant years ago. If only's, will not get me from where I am today to where I want to be tomorrow.
If only I had someone to say to me, What's going to separate you from others is how hard you are prepared to work. Yet, more importantly believed in me.DESTINY LOADS THE GUN.
Tell someone today, that you believe in them. Do not let them throw away their potential without at first letting them know they can use it.

Are you a Hoarder?

The specialty channel called A&E airs a number of interesting real life programs. One of which that captures my attention is a show simply called, "Hoarders."  A&E describes it this way, "Hoaders looks inside the lives of people whose inability to part with their belongings is so out of control that they are on the verge of a personal crisis."
One evening while watching the program, I came across the thought, "Am I a hoarder?" Over the next few weeks this thought kept crossing my mind. I set out to do a quick inventory of all the items that I am susceptible of holding on to -memory cards, clothes, and a few other things. If I had to I can part with these items - like a sweater I had since my university days. I recently found out my wife disposed of it.  I had it for almost 22 yrs. I thought I was clean.
However, this lingering thought came back to me. I then began to realize that it was not material items that I was hoarding. Instead it were the hidden things, the things that others don't know about. Haunting memories, feelings and thoughts that I don't want to reveal. The things I want to hold on to or is it that I don't know how to get rid of because I've allowed them to dictate how I feel, how I think, how I live. You know what I am talking about.
Remember that description, "the lives of people whose inability to part with their belongings."  Yep, those memories, experiences no matter how bad, those thoughts - they are belongings. As a matter of fact the longer you surround yourself with them,( the longer I surround myself with them) and wallow in them will start to incapacitate you, and affect  your job, most of all your spouse and your children.  It is a snowball effect.
Watching Hoarders is sad. Seeing how 'things they own 'control how they live.' They are on the verge of a personal crisis. Seeing the clean up process is sad. It is messy, it is hard, its.....terrifying for the 'hoarder.' Yet, the end result is electrifying, relieving, and triumphant for the 'former hoarder and the loved ones alike.
SO, the question was "Am I willing to allow all those inner ghosts, memories, past experiences, etc, etc,  control how I live; control how I think, control how I feel about myself and others? Most importantly, I am willing to let my INNER HOARDING hurt those I love most? For me the answer was simply. ABSOLUTELY NOT!
Talking helps, seeking spiritual strength helps, most of all allowing yourself to let go of all that garbage is the start of a healing process.
Is it going to be easy? NO. You will feel like running because the pain is too much. Trust me it is WORTH IT in the long run.
HOARDING or FREEDOM; DIEING or LIVING.  It was an easy decision for me at least because I was tired of living a shallow existence surrounded by JUNK - and it can be for you.
Until next time.....

The Birds and The bees

"Aerodynamically, the bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumblebee doesn't know it. So, it goes on flying anyways."

What an interesting concept. I recently had the honour of participating in a cross country relay, called "The Rick Hansen 25th Anniversary Relay."  Basically, it is a relay that honours those who are 'difference makers'  to those around them.  I'm not here to speak of myself but of two individuals who in my eyes deserve thee honour more than I. Before we did our relay each of us shared how we were chosen.  Two stories in particular stood out to me. 

The first, is that of a young man, about 13 years of age who shared that he practically raised his younger brother and sister on his own after his mother died. His father has no relationship with him or his siblings due to his own personal problems. In the end he was placed in foster care with his siblings. This young man was chosen by his teachers at school for being a difference maker in the lives of his siblings, his teachers, peers and of course me.   The second, is of a young lady who also shared a story how she was brought up in the foster care system and does not know who were parents are.  She said she was bound and determined not to let that affect her and wanted to make a better life for  herself. WOW.  

Now there are many out there in our society who would look at these two individuals and not give them a break. A narrow mind set saying what can or will they contribute to our society. That right there is where the analogy of the bumble bee comes into play. The bumble bee does not know that it should not be able to fly....but it does. It goes on doing what it was created to do. To give us the pleasure of watching it fly and hover in one place.   I can only wait with anticipation what this young man will be doing 10 - 15 years from now.  I can only wait with anticipation as to what this young  lady will be doing 10 - 15 years from now. I will have to wait and see until this young man graduates from grade 8 and tackles the challenges of high school.  I will have to wait and see until this young lady graduates from college that she enters into this coming Fall.

They are my heros! They are my bumble bees, my source of encouragement. They are my difference makers! Go and do what others think you cannot and show them that they are wrong!