Investing In Community Pays
May 10, 2010 § 1 Comment
Okay, so when I began co-writing this blog, my intent was to keep to topics that are not at all related to my job. I prefer to explore ideas and thoughts that are more from my creative side – that are inspirational or motivational.
However, I couldn’t help but touch on a subject that has some relevance to my position with the City of Grande Prairie after MoneySense Magazine recently released its fifth annual Best Places to Live list. On its website, this past week, the magazine focussed on the bottom 10 and referenced them as the Worst Places to Live.
I’m not going to discuss the merits of the placement of the communities or the rating criteria. I’ve lived and worked or attended post-secondary in four of the cities on the list, and visited many others.
I do find it unfortunate that a place would be dubbed a “worst place to live” by people from the outside who’ve likely never set foot there. Raw data, statistics and analysis only go so far.
It’s also disappointing when people who live in a place cited on the list, or anywhere for that matter, make negative comments about their community when they have no thought or desire to be part of the so-called solution.
I sometimes ask myself why people remain in a community if it is so bad.
I love my country and I am proud of what it has to offer. I’ve enjoyed every place I’ve lived across three provinces and don’t compare one spot with the other – some things are better in one and vice-versa.
A community is really what you make of it. The results of surveys and polls are what you make of them, too.
Certainly, they can present opportunities to spur improvement through the information they bring to light. They also provide the impetus for people to look at where they live and say, “That’s fine information, thanks. We are proud of our community.”
Let’s face it, not every city or town can be rated as Number One.
Throughout my career, I’ve adopted more of a ‘home is where you hang your hat’ philosophy. There has only been one location with immediate family present and just for a short time, at that.
My focus has always been in staying in that place on its own merits and for employment reasons, of course.
I’ve volunteered at every stop along my career path and believe that if you expect to get anything out of the community, you should do your part to invest in it.
Essentially, we have four choices: we can be satisfied with our surroundings. We can work for the betterment of the place, we can do nothing and just complain, or we can move on, hoping for something better elsewhere. Some people will always find negativity with their situation.
These published ratings do reveal some remarkable data. However, there are even uncontrollable aspects like weather factored in to the ratings. While some things like household income are tangible, how do you measure culture?
Sure, it was a feather in the cap of Grande Prairie when it was fourth in the MoneySense Best Places list in 2006.
I chosen to move here from a location I also loved – Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. When I moved here in 2007, that very favourable MoneySense rating from the previous year provided some greater insight into the community since I was last here, but was not an influence.
Does the fact that Grande Prairie is now much lower in 2010 make it a far worse place to live? No. For one thing, the number of locations being rated has grown significantly. As well, new facilities and projects have improved recreation, culture and social services offerings.
There are always possibilities for any community to better itself, for the quality of life to be enhanced. Even the top-rated cities can score higher in some categories in ensuing years.
However, I don’t know how many times I have heard people wonder what difference they can make individually.
Poet and musician Gil Scott-Heron reminds us: “Nobody can do everything but everybody can do something.”
If you could improve your community, how would you go about it?
Celebrating Our Fortune
May 3, 2010 § 2 Comments
I love to drive, particularly when there’s interesting terrain. It doesn’t get any better than going from Banff to Jasper along the Icefield Parkway, and then north via Highway 40 to Grande Prairie.
One reason I enjoy getting behind the wheel is that I find it relaxing, a great time to contemplate life, particularly on a beautiful, albeit long journey.
This past weekend, my thoughts turned to just how fortunate we are to have such a spectacular playground in our backyard – a photo opportunity around every corner of the highway – as I passed by one fabulous vista after another on my way home through the Mountain Parks.
I can’t wait to go back this summer and spend more time, camping and hiking.
We in Western Canada are certainly lucky to have Banff and Jasper National Parks so close. Countless tourists flock to the region year-round to take in their splendours and share our fortune for a few days, or longer, for sightseeing or recreation.
Then there is Rena, a young, effervescent New Zealander my wife and I met while having lunch at the Jasper Brewing Co. on Sunday. The pub is a good spot for her to earn cash and check out a country she’s already fallen in love with after six months.
What a great opportunity!
I also had a reason to consider how blessed I am in another way while on my trip to southern Alberta, which included a visit with my brother and his family in Canmore and taking in the Alberta Municipal Communicators Conference, held in High River on Thursday and Friday.
My brother was telling me about his close friend, Dave, who doesn’t have long to live because of a terminal brain tumour, but is managing to live with dignity, grace and a sense of humour.
It is a second time in recent weeks I have learned of someone so full of life but whose time is cut short.
Here in Grande Prairie, Samuel, who had been a political prisoner in Uganda for seven years, died a few weeks ago, shortly after learning he had a brain tumour.
Samuel, whose daughter was born while he was in prison, only knew this child for 14 months.
Why does it seem that often the people with the most reason and desire to live have their lives end far before their time?
There is no logic. The only sense we can make of it is that we need to make the most of the time we, ourselves, have.
When people like Samuel pass on so quickly, it’s a reminder that we should celebrate the fortune we have. We may not feel like getting up in the morning or have a minor ache or pain, but there are always people who are worse off.
What will you do to celebrate your fortune? I think I will plan my next trip to the mountains.
Forget-Them-Not
April 26, 2010 § 13 Comments
On April 28th, we will observe a National Day of Mourning as established by the Canadian Centre for Occupational Health and Safety (CCOHS).
The purpose of the day is in “commemorating workers whose lives have been lost or injured in the workplace.” The CCOHS estimates that from 1993-1998, 14,190 people lost their lives due to work related causes. In my books, those 14,190 deaths that could have been prevented.
On August 10, 2005, a police officer came to my door. I had just come home from a 4 week trek through Italy and Southern France two weeks earlier to celebrate the end of my degree from the University of Alberta. I had begun my job search as soon as I was back in the country and had an interview scheduled that day in Edmonton with Enterprise Rent-a-Car. I never made the interview.
I was just about to step in the shower when the doorbell rang. I grabbed my housecoat and headed upstairs. On my doorstep was an RCMP officer. The next couple of minutes happened as if they were in slow motion. Every word, every detail is etched in my memory.
“Do you know a Wayne Jacob Peters that was born October 21, 1978?” the RCMP officer asked me.
I looked at him a bit suspiciously as I replied “Yes, I do. He’s my brother.”
The RCMP officer looked at me and said “I’m sorry, your brother has been in an accident.”
That sentence hung in the air for a moment before settling on my ears. A million thoughts and questions raced through my head in the ensuing seconds about what could have happened before I answered “Oh my God! Is he okay?”
I expected to hear that he had been in a bad accident and that we should get to the hospital right away. Something like “Your brother was hit by a drunk driver and is in critical condition” was along the lines of what I was preparing myself to hear.
But life doesn’t ever bring us the news we expect. The RCMP officer looked right into my questioning eyes. I could see the answer then before he even said the words, but even a split second of warning wasn’t any preparation for what I heard next.
“No he isn’t. I’m sorry, your brother didn’t make it.”
I can hear those words as though the officer were repeating them in front of me now, they’re still that clear. I looked at the officer in disbelief and all I could muster was “Are you kidding me?” Of course, the answer was no. Wayne Jacob Peters of Millet, Alberta, born October 21, 1978, was found dead the previous evening 90 km north of Slave Lake around 11 pm.
The RCMP officer proceeded to ask if there was anyone he could call for me. My mom was in BC, but I got a hold of my dad. He happened to be in Millet. I now stood on the other side of the news. Having to repeat the devastating information I had received only minutes earlier to my father was worse than hearing it myself. As soon as he drove up, he rushed out of his truck and hugged me so hard. At 23, that’s a lot of emotion to take in in only a few minutes.
After that news and that hug, a part of me shut down for a very long time. It’s been only in the last month or so that I’ve began to understand the shock and trauma my system was subjected to, and that six years later, I’m finally able to start processing it.
The Workers’ Compensation Board proceeded with an investigation. Wayne was a chemical engineer working in cathodic protection. He was checking on a pipeline in Northern Alberta. On August 9, 2005, he was to meet his coworker back at the motel they were staying at by 7 pm. When he didn’t show up and wouldn’t answer his cell phone, his coworker knew there was something out of the ordinary. At 11 pm, Wayne was found dead by the rectifier he had been checking earlier. He had been electrocuted.
After reading the report from the Worker’s Compensation Board, no one party was at fault. There had been several factors at play with regards to the voltage going through the rectifier, and the fact that Wayne was performing tasks only intended to be performed by a certified electrician, which he most certainly was not. Mostly what I got out of reading the report was that his death, this work site “accident” could have been prevented.
Wayne was 25. He had a bright future as a chemical engineer. And now he’s one of 14,190 Canadians that died for no particular reason.
I’ve struggled for years with the suddenness of his death. I tried to tell myself that I was fine, people all over the world go through this too. I felt like I didn’t have the right to be angry with the rest of the world, after all, there were still people much worse off than I. But in doing so, I didn’t allow myself to find a way to come to terms with what had happened. When I heard an ad on the radio for The National Day of Mourning on April 28th, I felt like now I could give it a reason, even if it’s just to put my own mind at ease. He died so someone else wouldn’t have to.
I often forget just how little it takes to prevent an accident. Turning off your phone while driving, inspecting your equipment to make sure it’s safe, not performing a task you’re not specifically trained to do even though you may have done it before. And then something comes up to remind me of Wayne. And paying attention resurfaces as a priority in every task I perform.
My brother died so you and I wouldn’t have to, at least not from something we could have prevented. So, on April 28th, I’ll be joining people from over 80 other countries around the world not only to remember the dead, but to help protect the living. I hope you’ll join us too.
Earth Day: The impact we make is beyond a piece of litter.
April 22, 2010 § 1 Comment
A friend of mine lent me a book called “The Hundred Year Lie” by Randall Fitzgerald. The first half of the book was a depressing read about all of the chemicals and synthetics that have made their way into our food and the resulting increase in cancer, diabetes, obesity, number and level of toxins contained in our blood, etc. I struggled to get through that part of the book. When I reached the second half, it was a welcomed read about eating better, making more natural and/or organic choices, basically taking ownership about what we’re putting into our bodies and being accountable for the results.
One part that stuck out for me especially is when Randall Fitzgerald talks about the rise in male breast reduction surgeries. He attributes it to there being so many more hormones in the water today because the birth control pill has become so commonly used among women and there is no process to remove it from a city’s water system.
This kind of indirect result of increased use of birth control made it’s way to the forefront of my thoughts as I read a friend’s Facebook status this morning:
Rea Sauter wishes you a happy Earth day! Pick up some litter today, or pick up a new green daily choice. It’s your planet & your karma.
It is my planet and my karma. Combined with the new outlook to treat my body better from reading “The Hundred Year Lie” and the fact that whatever we put into our environment affects the health and wellness of other people, I suggest we all look not only to pick up some pieces of litter, but also to think about the foods you eat and the products you use, the chemicals that are in them, and the impact beyond today that they have on our planet and on your fellow man.
“It’s not all a Dog’s Life”: Jasper
April 12, 2010 § 5 Comments
A few weeks ago, Wendy mentioned the writing competition I was entering with the Grande Prairie Public Library. The theme was pets and I wrote about my dog, Jasper. The gist of my submission was that he thinks he’s a person.
I was a non-winner as we used to say when I worked with the Ontario Lottery Corporation in terms of prizes, but Jasper won the admiration of those who read the story before I entered it in the competition. I share it below for your entertainment.
It was also a winning experience in that I don’t often get a chance to write feature pieces and it was a lot of fun encouraging others to enter the competition and to have a friend drop the gauntlet at my feet to get me to push my creative skills.
I am happy for whoever won. I have had my taste of awards throughout my career and I believe Jasper’s story will have a future life in some other form. Stay tuned.
I hope you enjoy reading about Jasper’s escapades as much as I have writing about them and experiencing them … well most of them.
It would be great to hear about your own pet experiences!
And now, without further ado, meet Jasper!
A Day In The Life of Jasper
Hi, my name is Jasper. I am eight years old and this is my story.
Before I get into telling you about my life, I must apologize in advance if you have trouble understanding what I have written.
First, my housemates insist on having swivel office chairs in front of our computer. It is difficult enough for a short, furry person, who is only 2 ½ feet tall to get up into the chair, tuck his tail, and then steady the seat in one spot. On top of that, they don’t have a keyboard that is conducive to someone with dew claws.
But it is not my fault I am going through this ordeal. The other guy in the house should be writing this tale. He is the writer of the family.
However, it is Saturday, February 20 and the deadline for the writing competition is looming. My story deserves to be told.
Therefore, it is up to me to enter my own submission, even though I am not a gifted writer.
My family would tell you that I wouldn’t even know a subordinate claws.
I am not sure what that word means. I think it has something to do with equality – we all get one third of the bed!
But I digress.
Today was a great day.
The others in the house know the routine for a Saturday morning. They have begun to realize that I know the difference between Saturdays and Sundays and weekdays.
Before they have even made coffee, I get out of our bed and remind them it is time to head out to the hot tub so I can have my kong filled with peanut butter and treats. I have them trained that I need some cold coffee to complete my weekend morning repast.
I go outside and enjoy the sunshine as they sit in the tub. Apparently I would not like water that hot. My baths in the big soaker tub inside are with tepid water and special shampoo.
It is busy for me, trying to get those tasty morsels out of the kong while also protecting everyone from the birds hidden in the hedge. First these vermin will infest the shrubs. I think they will try to get into the house next! Not on my watch!
I scare those pests off and resume my breakfast.
I don’t let the others rest for long after they finish their soak in the tub. They should know by now, the next thing on the agenda is going for a walk, often around Hudson’s Pond, located in the south end of the city.
They know the routine. I pace. I sing. I pace some more. I pant. I sometimes even throw in a howl. This will go on for about an hour. Eventually, they realize resistance is futile.
My efforts are for their own good. If not for me, they would get involved in other things and put off our excursion. I need to be exercised. I think they would spell it … e-x-o-r-c-i-z-e-d.
Walks are a good thing. I get to catch up on the news of the neighbourhood as I snuffle my way along the paths and roadways.
There are also regular snacks, especially when we meet people with those creatures called “dogs”. I am always very curious about them so my family wants to distract me.
Today is a good day as we reach the pond. No critters are in sight. I am allowed to run ahead.
There are a lot of things to see and smell. There have been animals out here – coyotes, deer and moose. I always enjoy seeing these “big dogs” but I am not allowed to play and frolic with them for some reason.
We complete our outing. It was satisfying. Now it is time to nap.
Hmmm, which bed should I choose?
I pick the couch downstairs. It has a nice cozy blanket and is quiet and dark there. There are fluffy pillows and I can bury my nose.
An hour later …
Ahhh … stretch. That was a good snooze.
I wander around to see what everyone else is doing.
Hmmm! The house smells yummy. They are preparing f-o-o-d. That is one of the words they spell out when I am around. I know they are up to something when they spell out … w-a-l-k … or … p-a-r-k … or… v-a-n … or … t-r-e-a-t.
Since I am not allowed to sit at the table yet – that will happen sooner or later – I assume a strategic position to catch anything that drops.
I did take matters in my own paws one time. Once, when we had company, I helped myself to their bowl of cereal on the table. Mmmm. Froot Loops.
Now, I am careful not get banished. That will surely mean I don’t get to be the pre-rinse cycle for the dishes when dinner is done.
My family has come a long way over the years. At one time, they tried to suggest that I should stay out of the living room as if I were some kind of animal! Can you believe that?
Baby gates! Pffft.
Granted, not having access to the whole house wouldn’t be quite as bad as the indignation of living in a dog house. However, by the time it came to move across the country from Ontario, they found hotels that accept furry children with tails.
I must admit, I didn’t get off to the best start. But the way I like to think of it … if I were a dog or cat, I would have been long gone.
You see, I consumed books voraciously before the age of two – literally.
I had a taste for heirloom and special books, including an autographed Jean Beliveau book. The woman here was so concerned I would be a goner when her husband arrived back from a conference that she didn’t inform him of the munched book until six months later!
Well, it wasn’t totally chewed up. I did leave the autographed page unscathed. I don’t know what the problem was. I always saw the two of them spending a lot of time with books.
Then there was the time the other guy fell asleep on the couch downstairs and left his glasses on the coffee table. I was curious. They were crunchy. You fill in the blanks of what was said … because he couldn’t see me. This is a G-rated story.
Eating glasses didn’t help me see better anyway. My teeth just hurt and I got in a lot of trouble. That is one of the last times I really got scolded. I stuck to chewing what I am supposed to after that.
Well, except for the time I got into that black plastic bag with turkey bones after Christmas. I can’t believe I ate the whole thing. My tummy hurt and they made me see the doctor.
I don’t think that was the time he said I was a “solid” boy.
Or then there was the time I tried to turn on the TV using the remote with my teeth. I learned yet another use for Duct Tape. I don’t know what everyone was upset about. The device worked perfectly after that!
I am pretty much a regular child now. Like I said, sometimes I can be demanding for walk time or snacks. But mostly I am pretty content with my life … just like any other 85 lb. floppy-eared, furry boy with brown eyes and a long nose.
So, if you meet me on the street, be sure to stop and say hi. I am a real people person.
Spring Cleaning
April 5, 2010 § 2 Comments
It’s almost March. And it’s a beautifully sunny day in Calgary. In my apartment, my entire south facing wall is nothing but a huge window and a sliding door overlooking 17th Avenue. I don’t live in a big building, it’s only 6 floors in all, but there aren’t any bigger buildings behind me, and so the sun shines into my little abode pretty much the entire day. Today is the first day in a long time that I’ve been in the right mindset to check in with myself, take inventory of where I’m at and just see how I’m doing. In these kinds of moments, I can spend 20 minutes, sometimes more, just gazing out the window. Focusing on each car that goes by, each bird riding a current, and how the sun falls on my favourite leather chair just so.
Today, as I settled in to ponder and my gaze headed out the window, I noticed just how dirty the windows had gotten over the winter. It’s funny how we sometimes don’t notice the build up of dirt and grime over time, or how we’re willing to look through the dirt to see the world because we don’t really feel like washing that window.
Somehow, gazing through dirt just didn’t cut it today. It was time to wash the windows. I have these microfibre clothes made by a company called Norwex. There’s one specifically for windows and glass. You don’t need any cleaning agents. Just some water and the cloth. And boy, that cloth can clean a window and make it sparkle better than any bottle of Windex I’ve ever tried. In all, it only took me about 20 minutes to clean off the dirt inside and out. I’m back on my couch and the difference 20 minutes… 20 MINUTES… made for a clearer view is phenomenal.
How much scum and dirt do we let pile up on ourselves and on how’re we’re seeing the world around us because we’re too lazy to take a few minutes to wipe it clean? I want to compare looking out my windows now to looking out of them before being washed to that drinking and driving commercial where it shows how much your vision is impaired after each drink. How much less clear is our perspective with each layer of dirt that settles in (on our windows or in our lives)?
I’m sure I’ll be going through this exercise again. A few months will pass and I’ll notice that my window isn’t quite as clear as it could be, and that’s just from day to day exposure. It makes me think about my own housekeeping, all of the things I’m exposed to day to day that I don’t notice until they build up and just how much better I feel after it’s all been wiped away. Whether we think our lives are currently well put together, or there’s a pile of dirt that seems to have built up and soiled what we have to show the world, and what we can see of it, there’s always going to be some housekeeping to do for optimal performance. The good thing is, it doesn’t have to take a lot of effort to wipe things clean again.
On Growth…
March 30, 2010 § 2 Comments
My mom once said to me “You know, I feel like I’ve learnt everything there is to know about myself.” That thought scared me. To me, that meant there was a ceiling to my growth, a limit to my potential. In that moment I vowed never to be in a place where I felt like I knew everything about myself.
You’ve heard that people don’t actually change, right? Except that we do. We just may not want to see it, or acknowledge it. If people don’t change, we think we know them. If we think we know them, we feel safe, because we think we have them figured out. We know what their patterns are, their actions, their behaviours. They’re predictable. Predictable people don’t change. But, if we don’t change, we don’t grow and if we don’t grow, what else is there for us to do except to pass on?
I think my vow to never be in a place where I had reached my potential wasn’t really all that necessary. Because, really, the day I stop growing will be the day that I die. It’s impossible to go through life without becoming something we weren’t in the previous moment. And none of us can go backwards, we can only go forwards. Therefore, we can never shrink, we can only grow. Yet growth may be in one direction versus another, because where we feel we’ve reached our potential, we’ve automatically put a limit on ourselves as to how far we can go.
We’ll never be the same person twice. We can never recreate the same circumstances unless in a controlled environment, and yet, if we’re in a controlled environment, there is a limit to what we can learn. There are a finite number of things that can happen. That’s what’s exciting about life. It’s uncontrolled. We are not in control. And because of that, we must always grow and adapt to what’s happening around us.
I’ll never be in a place where growth isn’t an option. At least not until I leave this earth. Growth is inevitable. It’s another fundamental truth to life. Whoever you think I am today, know that I’ve already found new ways and directions to grow and whoever you were in that moment, you’ve grown beyond that too.
Building the Circle of Life
March 22, 2010 § 3 Comments
I attended a funeral the other day and was reminded of my own father’s passing on just over 21 years ago. Hearing some of the same traditional hymns like The Old Rugged Cross brought back memories.
It was my supervisor’s father whose life we were celebrating. He’d lived into his 80s and, through the eulogy, I learned more about the person I report to. I couldn’t help but smile to myself at a couple of ‘ah ha’ moments when I heard characteristics that also describe my supervisor and explain more about who she is and why.
Traits get passed on without us even knowing it. I now wonder what people would notice ingrained in my son that would also be true of me.
When my dad died, less than three months before my son was born, it seemed very much like the Circle of Life experience from the Lion King. My father had planned to come visit us after the birth. It’s too bad he didn’t get the chance. It would have been one of the joys of his retiring years.
Within a month, my son will turn 21. His future, like an unpainted canvas, lies ahead of him, particularly since he has not determined a clear direction.
I wrote in this space earlier that I want him to find something he is passionate about with an ever-increasing amount of choices in our global marketplace. Like many young people, he plans to begin seeking his fortune in a larger centre, likely Edmonton.
Once he does, who knows where that will find him. He plans to work a year there to help make some decisions with a broader view of the world.
Maybe he will be like a young friend of mine, Megan Koprash, who worked as an office assistant in my business during high school. She finds herself working overseas after doing some globetrotting.
She’s supportive of Peter travelling to better understand his options. “There’s a great big world out there. It changed my life,” she told me when we spoke online today.
In her free-spirited way, Megan did a short stint in Taiwan before moving to England to teach, following her graduation from Lakehead University in Thunder Bay.
It will be three years in August since she began teaching in Essex County, near London. Megan has considered leaving there a few times, but something always makes her stay. I think the place fits her personality.
“I am a bit of a drifter and a dreamer,” she reminded me.
I have always admired Megan for being both carefree and committed to what she believes in. To this day, she’s the recipient of one of the best letters of reference among the many I’ve written.
Even in high school, Megan got it. I would allow her time off to audition for theatre productions and she would reciprocate on her own volition by working into the wee hours on deadline projects.
Megan is who she is because a great upbringing and support from her parents, Margie and Ron, in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario.
She will cite them when it comes to describing her success story later in life. Megan will go as far as her ambition takes her.
I’m pleased the letter of reference I wrote helped Megan get that job in Britain and to have been part of her early professional growth.
Megan’s parents did a fine job of enabling and encouraging their daughter to follow her dreams.
As a parent, you strive to leave some kind of legacy like that. I would like my son to see that I’ve pursued opportunities as they’ve been presented, allowing me to lead a very rich, rewarding and varied career.
My own father left his own trademark. I always thought of him as strong and invincible – that go to guy who was always there … so much so that months after he died, I went to pick up the phone to ask advice, only to remember that he would not be on the other end of the line.
His departure from this earth just after he started learning to enjoy himself was a lesson to me – to work toward the future but to not forget about living in the moment when good times are to be had.
Circle of Life scenarios are abundant and aren’t all associated with family members. For example, I think it is ironic that my blog mate, Wendy, was born just two months before I graduated from Kwantlen College in 1982. Somehow I think that is one of the things that link us.
In this relay called life, I enjoy passing the baton to others with less experience, helping them to advance into the fast lane with perspective and insight they wouldn’t otherwise have.
There’s no joy like having someone, whether a young friend or a family member, tell you that you made a difference in their lives.
You do it to yourself…
March 8, 2010 § 1 Comment
You do it to yourself, you do
and that’s what really hurts
You do it to yourself, just you
you and no-one else
You do it to yourself
You do it to yourself
Oh Radiohead. How much truth is in this chorus, well, you probably know because you wrote them. The song, however has just implanted itself into my brain after a morning of doubt and fumbling, and some resulting blog posts.
I really did it to myself. I did, and that’s what really hurts, I did it to myself, just me. Me and no-one else. I did it to myself.
What did I do exactly? Well I let doubt get the better of me. As much as I wish I were at the point that I could spot doubt as it was starting to plant its seed and pull it out then and there like a weed that has not yet rooted itself in the ground, I am not. And as of today, I generally acknowledge doubt after it’s had it’s way with me a few times. And when it’s done, all I can think is “I’ve done it to myself.”
However, what’s the use in beating myself up over it? There isn’t any. Doubting myself doesn’t have to really hurt. Not if I don’t let it, and not if I choose to learn from it instead of letting it get the better of me. Because if I did it to myself, I can undo it to myself. I can move past it, or I can dwell on it. I’ve never learnt anything from dwelling on an issue, but I’ve certainly learnt much from moving past it.
The choice seems an easy one now… and Radiohead’s lyrics… more a chance to blame than an opportunity to move beyond.
Pursuit Of Excellence Is Ongoing
March 1, 2010 § 1 Comment
Excellence is something that doesn’t just happen. It occurs through commitment, passion and drive to raise oneself, a team, a business or a workplace to increasingly higher levels of achievement.
It can be measured in certain ways. In a factory, for example, new processes can lead to better production. In a workplace, training can make staff more efficient.
In sport, some prudent drafting and trades can turn a mediocre team into a champion and then building an effective farm system can create visions of a dynasty akin to the Montreal Canadiens and New York Islanders who each won four Stanley Cups in a row in the late 1970s and 1980s.
Both of those teams did a lot of things well and other teams emulated their on-ice and management styles.
When you are building a program like Canada’s Olympic team, it is foolhardy to think in four-year segments of time. It seems that is what Canadian Olympic officials did with the Own the Podium Program when they talked in terms of a goal of leading the way in medals.
I was irritated last week when several days of competition remained in the Olympic Winter Games and already members of the media and even representatives of the Canadian Olympic Committee were questioning the program. They shouldn’t have been questioning the program, perhaps just the goals.
If navel gazing were an Olympic sport, Canada would be a powerhouse nation.
It was probably a mistake to have specific expectations like: Canada will win the medal total. However, the program did help create unprecedented excitement for the Olympics across the nation. It also instilled an attitude that we can achieve excellence across the board. I didn’t see it as a cocky approach or putting too much pressure on our athletes.
It would also be foolish to end the program based solely on some ill-conceived notion on how many medals we received. When I was growing up, I always groaned at how our athletes would be lucky to finish in the top 25 in most sports. Now top-10 and top-five finishes are commonplace. We went into this Olympics having never won a gold medal at home. Thank you, Alexandre Bilodeau for getting that monkey off our backs early on.
To me, if you are in the top 10 in the world in your chosen pursuit, you are pretty damned good and should be proud. The margin for error in any sport, particularly ones involving judging, is often miniscule.
Oh yes, there were disappointments, particularly in skiing events. but that is the nature of sport. Did everyone expect that all or most favourites would come through at the right moment? Let’s give credit to improvement by athletes from other countries.
And consider the unexpected results or the outcomes under extreme pressure.
Think about the courage of figure skater Joannie Rochette winning a bronze medal just four days after her mother died? And on the final day of the Winter Olympics, our 50-kilometre cross country ski team missed the gold by 1.6 seconds. The fifth-place finish was the best by our country in that event since a 16th in 1932.
There were some tearful responses from Canadian athletes who fell short of the expected mark. It is understandable to be disappointed. Our athletes should not feel they need to apologize to the nation when they do not finish atop the podium. They did not let the country down.
Instead of bemoaning our results, even before the Vancouver games were over, officials would have done well to talk about Own the Podium as a stepping stone to the next level of success, that Owning the Podium is just another name for a winning attitude.
It is no wonder why we have sobbing athletes apologizing to the nation when leaders of our sports programs are busy second guessing everything before the closing ceremonies have even been held.
I will borrow the name of a City of Grande Prairie initiative to suggest to Olympic Officials. Let’s call the next generation of Own the Podium … Pursuit of Excellence. That doesn’t have a short-lived expectation attached to it. The name inspires an ongoing sense that we will strive for better performances on an ongoing basis.
I, personally, don’t question the success of Own the Podium if medals are, in fact, a measuring stick. After all, we eclipsed our previous top medal count with our total of 26. Canada also set the new standard for gold medals by any nation in the Winter Olympics with 14.
And, hey, in Canada, when you win hockey gold, that has to be worth at least four or five more medals!
For those armchair critics who question the character or will to win of Canadian athletes, I suggest you pay attention to amateur athletics more than for just a two-week period every two years (Winter and Summer Games are two years apart). It is funny listening to people who are suddenly experts in short-track speedskating and skeleton when they haven’t seen the sport in four years.
To me, it is never is out of season to chant: Go Canada Go!
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Wendy Peters & David Olinger
Wendy Peters
The Muse and Views 