Focus

Focus, Focus, Focus

By Pam Hadder

Seeking understanding

Meaning;

Meaning making,

I visualize -

My pale hands working paint,

Deep blue,

Like kneading dough;

Then spreading it on white walls.

The paint won’t speak,

It holds its secrets.

I blow into a hollow reed -

A single note

Woody, alto

Centering, calming;

Breathing.

Focus, focus,

I must record this,

Write it down,

Communicate,

Share.

Seeking understanding,

Meaning;

Meaning making -

I visualize.

Impressions

By Pam Hadder

How much do you care about what others think and/or say about you?  I am pleased to say that I am finally reaching a point where I recognize the need to remain steadfast amid the chatter and to follow my personal compass.  Another aspect of this, however, is that of impressions - not just what we call "first impressions" but all of the complex physical, temporal, and metaphysical bits we leave in our wake as we go about our daily lives!  These aspects I care deeply about; they are not petty or superficial and these intricate impressions bind us together with irrevocable subtlety. I fully recognize that I do not exist in isolation and that my actions, choices and words affect others, and as such I am humbled and honoured by the "every day," the simple interactions and experiences.  

Typically my summer allows me a bit of time for dreaming and connecting with the natural environment - just a week or two, brilliant and sweet and then it's gone; a glorious sun setting over a cold grey lake, my warm toes mourning the coolness of the sand. This summer my typical path was dealt an unexpected but truly spectacular twist!  For half of my summer I travelled to the southern hemisphere where it was "winter" - I say "winter" because it was so benign compared with the Canadian prairie winter I have lived with all of my life!   The destination was New Zealand where my business partner and I have been pursuing some investment opportunities; some good matches arose and the time to act was upon us.  And so I left summer for winter.

Our schedule was brisk but not insane - we took time to enjoy the natural, unspoiled beauty of NZ. It was a sensory feast and I am replaying vignettes in my mind as I write this - I hope the impressions I left were worthy because the Kiwis blessed me with a unique kaleidoscope of tastes, sights, insights, words, smells and experiences that is beyond measure. I can smell the briny air of the east coast; I am still in awe of the lush variety of trees, shrubs and flowers gracing the wild and garden landscapes, and I was inspired and humbled by the remarkable warmth and creative complexity of the Maori people. All the while I was conscious of consuming the beauty through all of my senses, and I imagined myself converting food, wine, sunshine, rain, vision, touch and scent into body cells so I could become a part of the wonderment, stealing a smidgen home in my flesh and bones. Looking back it was a profound physical journey of particular spiritual renewal. 

Impressions do matter - welcoming smiles, words of kindness, respect for nature and enjoyment of our time together; everyday, where ever life takes us. I hope my love remains where I leave it; I hope it binds, nourishes and grows.

Blue Tiger, Purple Moon

By Pam Hadder

Do you remember your dreams?  I find that if I consciously commit details to memory when I first awaken, they stay with me.  But most times I jump out of bed and rush into the various tasks necessary to tackle the working day – and the vivid images and experiences of my sleeping mind quickly vaporize like mist burning off in the sun.

I have heard a theory that when we sleep our soul is free to travel – that might explain why some mornings I feel like I have run three back-to-back marathons!  (I call those my “busy” dreams!) But aside from epic action and adventure scenarios, the most compelling dreams are those where I am given a gift – typically a creative idea or alternate viewpoint.  

Lately I have been taking these more seriously – I actually dreamed about a children’s book idea and title, for example – it was so realistic and specific that I could not brush it off.  When I awoke I recalled how Sir Paul McCartney once woke with a melody in his head.  He played it on the piano and eventually set lyrics to it.  But he wasn’t sure if the melody was unique, or if he was just playing some other composer’s work from memory.  He played the song for years, but just for those close to him – not in performance.  Finally he was satisfied that the melody was indeed his own!  This song became the mega hit, “Yesterday.”

Back to my dream book title - I researched it later in the same day.  There was another book similarly titled, but only ever so slightly.  Interestingly, the names of the book's characters also came to me in my dream, and these have been similarly noted for later use - I even saw the cover illustration; a finished book.  On a roll, I also researched a term that had come to me in an earlier dream – it had seemed like nonsense, but I began to wonder if it was from another language, and like Goldilocks I couldn't resist exploring.  I found a similar word that is the name of a Japanese manga character.  I’m not into heavy Japanese pop culture, so it’s unlikely that I would have encountered that name – so my mystery word has also been entered into my notes for future reference; unsolved but an item of interest. 

These are just two small examples of how our dreams can affect and inspire our waking lives.  Of course, most of us will not establish the global fame of Sir Paul, and we may not even aspire to attempt it. But we all have inborn potential and creativity – our dreams stimulate and inspire – in our dreams things can be both/and; we can work outside of the laws of physics, we can have  blue tigers, purple moons, and super-human abilities.  Thus, we expand beyond the common place, we defy the naysayers who have told us from childhood all of the things we cannot do or become. Dreams are a place to play, to discover, to test, to learn – we are truly “beautifully and fearfully made.” (The Holy Bible, Psalm 139:14)

I am also reminded of the 2006 documentary film “10 Questions for the Dalai Lama” where an American journalist travels for two years in India, patiently hoping to meet the Dalai Lama for a brief interview. Good fortune prevails, and the journalist is able to interview His Holiness. The Dalai Lama responds to one of the questions in a particularly unexpected manner – it is when he is asked what is the most important thing people can do to promote peace.  Without hesitation, His Holiness responds “critical thinking.”  This response showed great wisdom. Consider that with critical thinking, as with dreaming, we remove biases and boundaries; we examine, explore and compare with dispassionate objectivity. Critical thinking allows us to sift through filler and fodder to the crux of things – and what we typically find is commonality and also new discoveries; new ways of thinking, seeing and being. Perhaps our dream state is an inborn tool to nudge us toward a sublime state of enrichment and creative harmony?

Friends, the Emperor and Yoga

By Pam Hadder

I have decided to make a conscious effort to connect in real time with real folks – personally and professionally, every fibre of who I am is rejecting virtual falsehoods.   It’s like seeing someone you love eating crap, doing drugs or otherwise making unhealthy decisions – it’s a living lie and an overall “downer.” Don’t get me wrong – I love technology – I value and rely on the ease of applications and software to make my livelihood, and I have made a few meaningful personal and professional connections via social media and other online connections.  But let’s call the bluff – you know it’s true – you have to sift through a lot of detritus to find those diamonds in the dust! Time is precious, time is money, and I don’t want to pour out any more of my energy; nor do I wish to waste moments that could be funneled into real time, hands-on experiences – in my case, time outdoors, guitar/drums/dulcimer, fine art/painting/illustration, friends/family/loved ones.  

I am blessed to have full working use of my six senses, and I no longer want to limit their use to the virtual! Let me explain my path... when social media was gaining steam from a marketing perspective, I HAD to be engaged in it and  was obliged to try things – so that I could understand any benefits it could have for my clients.  To ignore the social media trend was like wearing an “I am old and obsolete” nametag!  So in short order my personal accounts became my guinea pigs, crash test dummies etc., and the rest is history!   Clients were insecure about being out of the loop (tech dinosaur syndrome) and had to have social media added to their websites – and in our industry (advertising and marketing), where insecurities are leveraged for gain, we were doubly doused in the frenzy – scrambling to understand, engage and stay ahead of the game.  And it is indeed a big game.

As I have stated, it has not been a complete loss, but I recognize that I am weary of the falsehood, I can’t play dumb, and thus the time has come for me to disassociate my vibrant, 3-D self from the virtual.  I am fully enjoying letting my feet feel the sensation of gravity: concrete, grass and earth; and real in-person human connection!  It reminds me of when I broke my leg in 1990 and how I felt when they took off the cast – scary but very real; magick! I should also point out that I was an “early bloomer” on Facebook.  We had a work group back in the day – three hundred of us found ourselves out of work when our employer sold the business and this “new, free networking thing” called Facebook was a way for us to share support, legal information, job leads etc.  So Facebook was my initiation into what was first called “new media” and which became “social media,” and it served the purpose.  So when social media started to push into the business realm, I was already familiar with it; it was “comfortable.”

Don’t get me wrong, I am not bailing on all of my “friends” and “followers” but I am disengaging from any falseness that I can detect.  Remember when it was all about the number of friends you had on Facebook?   Or can you remember the thrill of launching your first Twitter account, and within seconds you had new connections? Anyone could do it – even little kids could do it! It was a big ego gratifier and due to the ease of access it allowed many voiceless underdogs to shape a public persona that had power, esteem and meaning – virtually.  In my working context, social media was initially seen as a good “free” tool for all sizes and types of organizations to gain general awareness or for product and event-specific promotion.  I say “free” because marketers like myself soon caught on that there was a massive time investment with social media – content needed to be meaningful and you needed a lot of it.  Consider that the life of a tweet is (at best!) three hours, and you do the math from there!  Meaningful and relevant content that was also timely (i.e. strategic process) – this was and is seldom seen or achieved, and to date, no reputable academic studies have been able to prove that high numbers of followers, web site hits, etc. directly correlate to increased revenues for business.  Social media is making some people rich, but it’s not the business or personal account users, it is the developers who are raking in the cash!

To make matters worse, along the way people have lost their sense of reality, and along with it quality and integrity.  Because almost anyone can access the platforms, there has been overwhelming saturation of information and a dumbing down of quality. Therefore you will find that in the virtual world it’s quite easy to shape a persona or brand identity and make it look appealing and cool – but what is the real-time, in-person experience?  When you get to the nitty-gritty of things, is it just a virtual ego game, or does the person or the business have any real value? When was the last time you had really good after-care service? When was the last time someone really anticipated your needs and delivered on time?  When was the last time you felt that true warmth of connection?  The BIG factor, is that at some point, for legitimate personal and business pursuits, you need to connect in the realm of reality.

What makes or breaks your day?  Do you really care who unfollows you on Twitter or unfriends you on Facebook or what some random person says on your Instagram account?  Are you paying for groups of followers so that you look more appealing for “real” followers?  Do you waste aimless hours eating visual eye candy on Pinterest? Do you automate social media to free up valuable time?  Do you ever ask yourself – what the hell am I actually achieving?

Three final words:  friends, the emperor and yoga. 
1) FRIENDS:  my Dad, who was often disappointed by fickle, back-stabbing, small-minded colleagues (he worked for government – imagine your favourite Dilbert cartoon, complete with Pointy-Haired Boss) –  Dad always said if you were lucky you would have two or three true friends in your life.  You know the ones – you can call them anytime, ask them anything, they tell you they love you; they don’t try and change you – AND they build you up; they celebrate when you succeed!

2) THE EMPEROR:  have you ever read the story, “The Emperor’s New Clothes?” – if you haven’t you should.  It’s a kids’ story and the moral of the story is about deception – truth and reality.  Social media is our modern day “emperor’s new clothes!”   Once you get it, you can’t live the lie –even if everyone else is; you can’t un-see the truth, you can’t un-learn what you know is factual.

3) YOGA:  why this huge popularity with yoga these days? Based in traditional Ayurvedic medicine, yoga is about wellness of the body and mind – it requires real-time connection and physical and mental awareness.  Human minds and bodies are trying to disconnect from the false and reconnect to what matters.  It may not mean yoga for you, but it might. Over and Oooohhhmmmm ...

Goodbye False Icons!

By Pam Hadder

Today is an auspicious day. Rising from bed, swinging sleepy limbs out of cotton swathing to face another day, I am delighted to see the sun’s blush just meeting the horizon; we are in sync at last, without need of a jarring alarm – it’s a perfect beginning to the rest of my life.  Into the shower I trundle, happily soaping all those wonderful body parts:  silently thanking my feet, legs, arms, back, breasts, toes, fingers, ears – I am blessed to have a healthy body; thank you, thank you, thank you. 

No more judgment – not from me; never again - the world will judge my female form harshly, but I have chosen to be her one stalwart supporter.  When I emerge from my domestic cocoon and I must face the many false icons of Photoshopped “perfection” online, outdoors, in print – everywhere – and should I feel myself feeling diminished; fading, I will tap along the pathways my counselor has shown me – face, collar bone, ribs, hand; repeat.   Affirmations will flow from my lips like a bird song: “I am wise, I am healthy, I am enough, I am beautiful for who I am; I love and accept myself…”  

I will feel my heart maintain a slow confident beat, faithfully keeping time while I maneuver through the day’s obstacles and successes; I will draw air into lungs that infuse my whole being with vital oxygen, and when I eat I will refuel; energize – I will relish each bite: savoury, sweet, sour, salty. I will not count calories, or steps; nor will I ever use a scale.  I will not judge my worthiness by size, shape, how much or how little I eat – I will not see food as my enemy.  Food is there to nourish us, after all – so I will delight in having the good fortune to select from many fresh food options, and I will luxuriate in its beauty, sensuality and diversity, and in those special times I can share earth’s nutritional bounty with others.

It has taken decades for the child, then a young woman, then a mother to reach this place of feminine certitude – I am, I feel, I appreciate, I blossom, and I am eternal.  When the work day is done, I will stretch and smile, and seek recreation in the things that bring my body and mind healthy stimulation and inspiration: my art, my music, and leisurely time spent outdoors, or in silent reflection, writing, listening or resting. I do not need to justify my choices; I do not need to explain, but I must fully engage as only I can so that I can enjoy my personal potential.  If not today, then when?  We are only certain of this one breath, this one moment after all.

Back to my body – my good, beautiful, healthy body – I solemnly vow that I will honour her.  I will not wear tight polyester, I will not pound my bones against the hard road, I will not pant so hard I taste blood.  I will stand tall and gracefully walk at a pace that feels right in clothes that feel right, I will feel my heart beating strongly, I will enjoy the scents and sights around me; and I will connect with the people around me  with positive energy – when they smile, I will smile back.
  

Some very good women to heal you and inspire your journey:

Limon – http://limonfresh.ca/

Virgie Tovar – https://www.facebook.com/virgie.tovar.1/about

Gifts

By Pam Hadder

"Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us" - Albert Schweitzer

It's been a long haul, but as convocation draws near I find myself pondering the meaning of it all - beyond the coursework, content and theories; what did I really learn?  It is said that no one can steal from us the things that we commit to memory, but I also recognize that those things we cherish the most are much more than any factual knowledge!  Larger themes have bloomed and overlapped: indigeneity, human history and the power of inter-connection - transporting me to vistas I could not have imagined.  

I have been thinking about a friend's remarks on higher learning.  I congratulated her on pursuing her masters degree and she said that the more she learns, the more she realizes how much she doesn't know! As I prepare to celebrate my graduation, I feel the same sense of joy mingled with deep humility.  I am deeply grateful for the loyal few who encouraged me, and did not belittle my musing - their influence and support have been immeasurable gifts. My world is altered, perceptions heightened, and I have the tools to address any impediments that cross my path.  However, I recognize the necessity of continual learning, and I am eager to pursue new academic goals.

Learning is often taken for granted, but it is a privilege to which not every person has easy access - I faced many barriers; without the support of others I could never have been successful.  Even within my program I faced constant challenges - for example, required electives which seemed irrelevant and that terrified me: "I can't believe I have to take this course - oh my God, this is way out of my league!" Interestingly, it was these "tough nuts" that left the deepest impact. Additionally, by overcoming my fears and objections, I began to recognize that beyond any external factors, my greatest limitations were self-imposed! Ultimately, however, the things I resisted the most became my treasure chest and my fortress, reshaping my self-view, inspiring my heart, and replacing voids with bridges to hope and increased understanding. Looking back on my childhood and young adult years, I can now see how I have allowed naysayers to destroy my aspirations. 

This time of learning has breathed new life into me, and has firmly nudged me back on my path. I know that I want to keep on learning. I know there are more obstacles than scholarships. And most of all I know that I have value, purpose, a place, and a voice - I want to make the most of every day that I am given. Each day is a sacred gift that is beyond value; infinitely precious, and all of the people we interact with, the choices we make influence outcomes far greater than ourselves. Looking out my window at a bleak, grey sky, I don't see hopelessness any more - I think of this Earth, its beauty and its people. I imagine the potential and happy tears well - oh, my feet are restless!

Scentimental

By Pam Hadder

So what does Salvador Dali have to do with my daughter? Well, it’s complicated – a story made of sensory impressions, passed from father to child; from grandfather to granddaughter. It’s illusory and yet obvious, and it all started with a spritz of cologne.

My daughter’s birthday just passed.  I can still remember the moment she was born – how small and still she was.  They say newborns can’t see that well, but her dark, almond shaped eyes bored into my weary hazel ones with the intensity of a very wise old soul.  She didn't cry; she came swiftly and peacefully out of my body and was gently sponged, swaddled and placed against my breast – a textbook, natural birth. Now she’s a twenty-something and Momma is just a strange aging creature that she has little time for – I think I am her worst nightmare; everything she doesn't want to be.  She constantly talks about how cool her friends’ Moms are, and I feel my motherhood slowly melting away like a sugar cube in hot tea.

Needless to say, she’s hard to shop for – I have walked countless miles and scoured shops for the perfect little something for all those birthdays, come and gone; something precious and pretty that she would wear and remember my love. Failure after failure, but I just keep on trying and blowing it –frankly, if I hadn't witnessed her coming out of my body, I’d swear there’d been a baby swap!  But she’s all mine – people tell me how alike we are, but I don’t see it.  I do know that I was not close to my own Mom – I love her, but I always fell short of her standard; I didn't measure up.  To this day, my Mom hugs me dutifully, and I have described her limp embrace as like having someone drape a light cardigan over your shoulders. 

Back to the birthday – I bought my daughter a handmade leather and crystal rocker-style wrap bracelet, and I found a card that played Frank Sinatra (she’s in love with him). And I put some cash in a tiny gift bag.  I knew she’d put on the bracelet once and never wear it again – after all it came from the leper known as MOM, but I wanted her to have something to open. I was right – she did try it on and thanked me, but I found the bracelet in its velvet pouch sitting in the living room the next day: ditched, another gifting mishap.  But the cash, well she spent it on a fragrance she wanted – AND she let me know the money I gave didn't quite cover the cost (ouch).  

This is where it gets interesting.  She wanted me to smell the cologne – “It’s a men's cologne,” she told me. She had wanted her boyfriend to buy it; wear it, but he didn't like it. I held the spray nozzle under my nose – hard too get a read, too faint.  I asked if it would be okay to spray a little. I over-sprayed, and saturated the cuff of my pullover; dang!  Finally, the scent: “It’s very nice, it reminds me of something – another cologne.”  But I’ll be damned, I could not put a visual to the strong connection I was feeling. Princess pranced off with her loot, but my mind was in overdrive.  Repeatedly I lowered my head, sniffed and thought, and I sniffed again.  Then it clicked – my Dad always liked this after-shave tonic called Tabac.  It wasn't expensive – it came in a white glass bottle and it smelled spicy - kind of like vanilla tobacco.   My daughter and my Dad had this special bond, he could be crotchety, but he was putty in her presence – she had found the scent that was uniquely her grandpa!  So I ventured into the tigress’ lair and I let her know about Tabac – she smiled and we talked a bit (I could be a stranger on a bus!); she knew she was Grandpa’s favourite, so despite the awkwardness, I felt I should tell her. At least I had some small pleasure in knowing, my Dad left an impression.  

The story doesn't end here – I kept sniffing my cuff, knowing I was on the right track, but that the scent trail led further than I had ventured; something was niggling away at me.  Then it clicked – I could see it: an amber-brown cologne, in a crystal bottle shaped like Aphrodite’s kiss, with a frosted glass patrician nose: Dali. I’d worn that cologne when I was my daughter’s age: spicy, sultry with a hit of tobacco.  My moment of personal realization: in my own attempt to define my young adult self, I had actually snuffled closer into my Dad’s shirt collar. No, still not done, but we are close! The final connection is a tight, symbolic loop-de-loop. The fragrance my daughter loves is called Pi, the fragrance is amber-brown and the Pi symbol appears in gold on the architecturally-inspired bottle.  Pi is the letter P, Pamela starts with P, Pamela is a Greek name, and I sign my art work as “Pamela”, but using the Greek alphabet/symbols. 

Scent and sentimentality – how complex the bonds that draw us together, even as we try to pull apart.