The Way I Roll

by Pam Hadder

It's that time of year.  March is this pot hole in the road of life; a seriously deep axle breaker on a seemingly endless stretch of rough, blah, bleak and ugh.  At least that's the case here in the heart of Canada! And if you live here, or have visited Winnipeg in the spring, your teeth and bones will ache at the memory of our pitted and pocked streets and roads!

My dearest FC calls March "high recall time. "Why "high recall?"  Well, it seems like this is the time of year when a lot of people pass on.  Personally, I lost both my Dad and my young niece in March, and it seems appropriate somehow, that this month is devoid of beauty - a sullen, slow-moving lunk, it lurks and sulks, unable to express any joy and threatening to steal our moments of happiness. This year March has been marked by the death of Canadian folk music icon, Stompin' Tom Connors - his honesty and kindness and patriotism always touched my heart.  He was like this uncle, a favourite that could always make you see the bright side of things, and who would steer you toward what really mattered in life.  A good man.

A dreamer, I  get through March by over-compensating, by stoking the brilliant coloured fires of my fantasy world. I am restless, yet drowsy; thirsty for the outdoors, and yet languid; lounging like I am hospitalized.  Bright colour, new tastes and textures; the sensory and the sensual - these are my cure; my self-prescribed course of treatment.  My senses are all set on high to filter every molecule of goodness and beauty out of the stark, cold, grey landscape of mourning. My mind is jumping, antsy, sparking -I am building, making plans; analyzing - I can close my eyes and smell the snow melting and I hear the first rain storm rumbling in the distance.  I have wings, I am rising, I am dancing on the ashes of March - bright brush strokes of azure, pink, violet.

Seeing Spots

By Pam Hadder

It's that time of the year - winter is encroaching, cramping my style. I feel myself fading and drifting off, like a dry leaf on a river current.

I came across this vintage photo online this week, and was entranced.  The glamorous woman with a pet cheetah - over-the-top, curious...staged for a vintage ad, or real??? Imagine the folly, the sheer irresponsibility of keeping this magnificent cat as an urban "pet" - crazy stuff.  So why did this image draw me in? It had such strong appeal and I wondered why.  The more I thought about it, I realized that I saw myself reflected in both the woman and the tethered cheetah.  

Like that poor cat, these days I feel trapped by circumstance and the weather. I want to get loose and run for the hills - warm hills, that is!  And like the woman in this photo, I find myself zoning out, shopping, tidying, arranging, procrastinating - disconnected and dreaming of the summer months that seem too far away; will they ever arrive? Escapism, internalized emotion, longing for a different reality. It's too quiet, too claustrophobic and I want to scream at the top of my lungs just to know that I still have a voice and some passion - a wild feline yowl complete with flashing green eyes and bristling fur! I wonder how that spectacular tantrum would go over in most spaces? Likely not too terribly well, but it makes me smile inside to think about it (see, there I go again, hiding out within - a sullen child making a blanket fort with clothes and furniture).

One positive sign - albeit rather surreal, considering the raw, face-ripping temperatures... I saw a robin at the university this week.  I honestly had to do a double take.  It was Valentine's Day, and I joked with the dude sitting beside me that perhaps it was a sparrow wearing red for his sweetheart :) 

It's great that I have my coursework to push my mind and energies outside of its selfish, snow-drifted, ice-packed February pathways. It forces me to generate a little friction with my mental muscle when all I want to do is pack it in, cover myself in polar fleece and bed clothes and hunker indoors until it is spring.

Today when I played guitar, I closed my eyes and let my mind drift forward into the future. I just enjoyed the sound of my instrument and the way the strings felt as I plucked, strummed, cajoled - and suddenly there it was, a cool breeze swirling around my bare feet. I could hear the wind chimes wildly clanging outside on the patio - was that the smell of hail in the air; a spring storm?

No, it was too cold - frigid, meat locker-esque; I felt my sad little dream bubble burst.  I placed Pearl carefully on her stand and followed the cold trail, wishing I'd put on my moccasins.  Had the blizzard ripped the roof off my little house?  

Aha...mystery solved... my son left his bedroom window open!  OMG... with -30 Celsius temperatures and howling winds - he opened his bedroom window wide, and went outside to play with his pals.

Tonight when I am burrito-wrapped in my heated bed, perhaps I will dream of the cheetah. I'll break free of my leash and run in sun-burnished fields, pausing to lap sweet water from glassy pools, and soaking up the natural glory of the day. 

A Full Moon

By Pam Hadder

The moon was full a few nights ago - I was driving down the highway and it lay ahead of me, resting on the dusky horizon like an immense, glowing, orange egg.  Gazing at it with wonder and humility, and feeling particularly small and yet honored by this audience, I half-expected something supernatural to happen - like a giant cosmic butterfly emerging from that glorious pod, or a crackling of meteorite fireworks across the sky vault!  That spectacular sight has defined my final hours of 2012 - I am thankful that I can replay the video clip in my mind, because my iPhone camera certainly had no hope of capturing the moon's incredible beauty.  I didn't even try - it was crazy, amazing; gorgeous - a living dream.

The moon was still large and silver-bright this morning when my dual-alarms woke me from a heavy sleep - albeit with some wear on her right cheek, like some amorous giant besmirched  her flawless beauty with clumsy maneuvering.  In the midst of great busy-ness and commotion that makes up a typical day, I have been meditating upon that great and glorious pearl in the sky and wondering about 2013 and what this new year will bring.

Typically, as the year wraps up, a word comes to me that serves as my guide, my mantra, my focus for the year ahead.  This year has been so full, so over-run with words, emotion, art, activity, and I find myself serene, hovering in the centre of a maelstrom, but without a word of my own.  Perhaps the message is in the sky, in the moon, in her strength and unparalleled beauty. She who we take for granted, grows full, wanes and rises anew with new brilliance - She who pulls the great oceans of the Earth, mastering the tides and affecting the patterns of life.

Ah, there it is - the word, hidden in the shadow of a moonbeam - ATTUNEMENT. The meaning is immediately understood.  Attunement is about stopping to break away from man-made patterns and connecting to the natural rhythmic ways which we take for granted but which are essential to our lives.

Here at midday, I feel the cool white slip of the moon across my skin; up my shoulder, to my face - the gentle, guiding touch of a Mother's soft hand.  She is affirming my choice as I look skyward to the arrival of the new year.

kd-lightful!!!

By  Pam Hadder

There may be many times that life disappoints us a little - part of it is our own expectation and/or our response to circumstances.  Then every once in a while, we literally live our dreams - the kind of magical times when you slide into this slipstream of ease, where it all goes so smoothly, the colours are pure and bright, your senses are attuned to razor-sharpness, and you feel simply invincible! And, if you are like me, you are afraid to exhale in case the bubble bursts!  (lol!)

Front row and centre stage for k.d .Lang's recent concert at Winnipeg's legendary Pantages Theatre was one of those moments.  I have been privileged to see k.d. Lang live before, and each time has been excellent, stellar, breathtaking.  I had some momentary regrets that I didn't take more photos, but face to face with a legend, it didn't seem right - I wanted to soak up every syllable of sound, every visual clip.

k.d. Lang is unique not only in her talent - charisma, vocal range, perfect pitch, musicianship - but she also gives 150% out there; it's really something special to experience her fusion of passion and music in live performance.  I have to admit, when I snapped up my VIP Nation tix, I was concerned - a previous VIP concert in California was a bit of a downer - my friend had treated me to this luxe event for my birthday, and we did not receive what was promised, and (unwittingly) paid for (at least!) FOUR tickets!

But VIP Nation was fabulous - our host, Hugo, was warm and welcoming, and proved to be as cool as his name (Hugo is one cool name, don't you agree?).   There were so many highlights, and I can play that concert in my mind, from my exceptional vantage point and it feels like it was a private concert - just for me. How great is that?  One especially memorable part was hearing Big Boned Gal while a gaggle of middle-aged babes grooved in the makeshift mosh pit - on the third (yes, THIRD!) encore - I mean, who does that any more?  Coincidentally, I had been enjoying listening to some older Lang albums this summer, and Absolute Torch & Twang is a def my nostalgic love child!

After the show, my friend and I got to attend a meet and greet with k.d.  I presented Ms. Lang with FemFest 2012 t-shirts for her and the guys, and we each got guitar picks from her and had two items autographed.  For me it was my songbird scarf (a natural choice to have your fav songbird sign your fav scarf!), and my beloved FolkFest patchwork purse.  We got our picture taken with k.d., and we will receive a link to download the pic from VIP Nation/Live Nation in a day or two (do you smell an update coming....)??? Gracious and friendly, she puts you at ease, and yet is focused and exacting - even with autographing and "small talk" - years of practice, and learning from mistakes, I suppose.  She is kind with even the more obnoxious requests - like the dippy couple in their 60s with a garage sale guitar, covered in maple leaves..."Well, they'll know where you're from..."

The cherries on my vegan cupcake were k.d. telling me "I like your hair!", and getting a big hug from her.  How does it feel to hug k.d.?- well, pretty damn fine... she's about my height (5' 5" - 5'6"), she's fit and when she hugged me  it was like when football players do that celebratory chest bump! Kaboom - before I knew it, it was over and I was asking, did that just happen?  lol  She's about a size 12 or 14 - so I don't get why people go on about her weight etc. She looks fantastic, has gorgeous, youthful skin - and, surprise, she's not 20 years old anymore!  She does not smell like incense, or rose petals or cookies - k.d. is odourless.

What's next? A self-professed "slut for k.d. luxury", I  want to inquire about Sha-Lang-grila time shares...omg, YES!!!

Cowgirl Zen

By Pam Hadder

No one has a path without obstacles, disappointments, pain and hardship -and sometimes, if you face the world smiling, people assume that you have it easy.  They may even hate you for it and may work damned hard to wipe that little smile off your face.

And these aren't monsters or criminals coming at your heart and soul with bombs and daggers- it's all of the regular folks you are surrounded by and that you interact with while doing all those mundane life tasks, attacking you with words and little subversive actions: maybe it's your family, work mates, neighbours, acquaintances...

You know what I'm talking about and maybe you've been part of the problem - impatience, inconsiderate behaviours, snide little remarks, back-handed compliments; things you think won't think will get back to the person - or maybe you secretly harbour a little snippet of hope that those darts will hit their mark? I have experienced this strange backlash many times in my working and personal life - sometimes it comes all in a bundle and I will joke about wearing my "weirdo magnet!"  I can't explain meanness - who can?  But maybe efforts at kindness and decency are read as Pollyanna-style idealism; or maybe happy folks are seen as a mark, a dupe to be exploited?  Think about it - what makes people want to bash Barney the Dinosaur, for goodness sake (remember, Barney was created for little toddlers, not adults).  Why does the general public constantly look for ways to denigrate celebrities, politicians and other public figures? Why is there always this need to target someone and bring them to their knees?  For what purpose?

Who knows, but another side to the "bash the optimist" phenomenon is that there is something peculiar and dark about our culture that likes to seek out the dirt; to crush successes and joy, and to focus on the negative  - in fact, there is great energy expended to create negatives where none existed; to seed and nurture and grow darkness! How many times have you seen Canadian performers celebrated around the world but ridiculed at home?  Celine Dion and Justin Bieber come to mind. You may not like their music or style, but can't you appreciate their mega successes and be happy for them; be inspired by them?

Personally, I am encouraged and delighted when people are successful, happy and living within their ideals - whatever those may be - it gives me hope.  I also can appreciate that it takes tremendous focus and discipline and persistence to be true to your dreams, and to remain positive in an environment that is increasingly focused on the negative.  Happiness is a choice - but it's not an easy choice.  Sometimes its really hard to find a little nugget of goodness to hang on to.

I have occasionally cursed my buoyant optimism - because 99% of the time, I wake up happy and eager to greet the day, do my best; try and try again - and many times I hit the hard wall (or floor!) of soul-crushing resistance.  Because, the world is not kind to optimists, to peaceniks, to artists, and to dreamers. Being an optimist is NOT an easy choice - you will be labelled as unrealistic, daft, blind to reality etc.  But the reality is - my reality; my personal reality is very much a choice, a carefully crafted construct - and most of the time, the goodness wins out over all of the detractors, because I do not allow them to have power over my time, my choices, my reality.

We all know there is too much hatred, paranoia, cruelty, violence, propaganda, ignorance, poverty, unfairness, injustice, bigotry, racism, bullying, sexism, ageism, religiosity, intolerance, radicalism, and reactivity.  It's pretty easy to destroy things, to bitch, to criticize; to dismantle - but  to create,  to balance,  to remain calm, to think of gentle solutions - these take courage; a soft, subtle strength that endures much, but is often unacknowledged and under-appreciated. I imagine myself, at this moment, writing down all of those ugly words, I am out at my favourite camp site, and I am dropping them into my camp fire - I watch them blacken and see them turn to orange sparks and  bits of grey ash, rising up into the night sky; purified by the stars' eternal beauty.  It feels good to imagine that - like adding some bleach to the dirtiest laundry you can imagine ;)

So who am I  to prat on about this?  Just a person who gives a damn, some zen-minded cowgirl, trying to do her best with what she was given. I really think the Dalai Lama said it best: "My religion is kindness."

Shimmy and Roll!

By Pam Hadder

Ok, I admit it, I am grieving summer like a mother bird who's watching her last chick take flight.  And to comfort myself, I am thinking of the past months and all of the little joys and pleasures I have been so fortunate to enjoy.

At one point in my life - I'd been laid off from my dream job and was making a go of it for a good, but low-on-personal-fulfillment employer - and I used to keep a small notebook handy: a gratitude journal. Everyday, in the stark lunchroom, on my own; feeling orphaned and hopeless, I would religiously list everything I was grateful for.  Like a mantra, some of the entries were redundant and repetitious, but it was more socially acceptable than rocking in a corner and gnawing on my nails! It was comforting and kept my mood up in spite of the bland, sensory deprivation I was experiencing.

So, now I'm in a much better place, I have so much autonomy and so much opportunity, but it's still the little things that make my day - the little gems, the glimpses, the subtle richness of life. My list is an oddball mix (like the author) - experiences, tastes, textures and products too.  But what ties it all together is appreciation.  More and more I recognize and acknowledge that  I have been blessed and that awareness of goodness on my path is in itself a great beam of providence, shining down on my unworthy head.  So here's the list...

Sunsets - have they been more spectacular lately, or am I just more in tune?

Avocados - one should always have two: one ready to eat, and one just about ripe.  So good for you too, so that's just a bonus!

Brow powder - "brow powder?" you say? Yes - consider life without eye brows, they frame the eyes for goodness sake!  And the powder gives a much more natural enhancement vs. pencil.

Music and guitar - my teacher was so right when he said, "...just strum that guitar and enjoy the sound and the vibrations against your rib cage" - a little slice of heaven, when the sound is just right!

Frank's Red Hot Sauce.... omg, where were you earlier in my life, Frank?  That stuff is just so fan-freakin-tasty!!!!  Really love it on tofu stir fry and my curried chick peas... nom... nom...

Aveda Madder Root hair conditioner - keeps the fire in my reddish locks :)

Friends - my Dad always said I'd be lucky if I had one or two true friends in life - you know who they are... the ones who don't try to tell you what to do; to change you.  They would be disappointed if you weren't you - and when you see them, it's like no time has passed, even if it's been years.  They seem to know when you need a hug and they are your champion, cheering you on with every lame-brained idea you have and every crazy obstacle you tackle.

The list goes on and on... but you get the idea.  And the friends, well, they are the constant throughout all of the tasting, trying, failing, laughing, swearing, crying, sleeping, waking, sharing, caring, failing again, falling, singing, rising, being, and loving.

Learning Curves

By Pam Hadder


Like one tiny puff of cloud in an otherwise empty sky, our ideas and dreams are born, and we witness them grow and change, or perhaps dissipate,  unacknowledged.  With music, sometimes there is a riff that comes to us and ingratiates itself -- hinting or even demanding that we give it some attention. As with any creative gift, we need to pay heed or risk losing the opportunity.

Poetry, lyrics, painting, and even work-based solutions all can be experienced in this way - have you ever sat in a brain storming session of any kind and it felt was impossible; a complete waste of time - coffee growing colder; you can hear the stomach gurgles and eyelid blinks?

Although I have always known that creativity can't be forced -- my life repeatedly affirms this theory! Humankind imagines that it is very clever, and, granted, we are all moderately so.  But what I have learned, and what continues to be reinforced for me, is that these tiny inspirations and seemingly silly notions are a great gift.  Our task is to attune ourselves to them, and take them and apply them - the universe is nudging us to write our prose, capture the imagery or add lyrics to the melody.  And... this is not hard work or torture - we need only submit ourselves with openness to the possibilities; it's as natural to us all as breathing.

Of course, there are so many things we can't control - and that can be a scary thought.  However, what we can control is our environment and how we respond to it - the climate for productivity differs for each of us, and we need to explore and be comfortable with our own unique situation.  Have you known people who can never be alone or in complete silence?  There is nothing wrong with that; perhaps it's torture for them!  Or those that need complete silence to "think" - every pin-drop is like a ogre's heavy foot step?  Most of us are likely somewhere in between; or we vacillate between needs for stimulation and repose.

Most of all, regardless of our ideals for living, we need to be open - open to newness, to previously unseen possibilities, to learning; to stepping outside our carefully constructed boundaries.

Why not take those little clouds and shape them with your time and talent.