With Indignation. My Cheeks Redden. This is Not a Happy Post. But I am Compelled.
It’s a Memory Stirring My Heart. A Few Years Back I Nannied a Sweet Little Sheik Boy. His Dad a True Gentleman. A Pediatric Oncologist. His Precious Innocent Little Wife was a Radiologist.
She was taking Swimming Lessons for the First Time at 35. He Surprised her with a Speedo Bathing Suit. That Kind of Innocence. That Kind of Dream Marriage. That Kind of “Thank You for Blessing Our Country.” Kind of Perfection.
One Day the Lovely Woman Pulled me Aside. Tears Brimming Her Beautiful Soulful Brown Eyes.
“Jeannine, do I smell…?”…..Oh My Heart Breaks as I type this…
“No Darling, why do you ask?”
A Tear Spills Over…..”Because a lady at work says I smell…and that we should cook our curry in our garage so our clothes don’t smell….”
I Think she Felt my Heart Breaking. My Heart Broke. How can People Be so Unkind? How can we not be Gentle with each other? Do they not See Her? Little Mrs. First Time Swimming Lesson Innocence? Mrs. Silently Cry when she Leaves Her Precious Baby Every Day? Mrs. Tender Hearted Perfection?
Well if They Can’t, I Sure Will. Today and Everyday, No One is Mistreated By Me. Not On Purpose Anyway. No One Should Have to Bear My Moods. My Prejudices. My Unkind UnEvolved Soul.
It Started in the Heart and Mind. Think Peaceful Happy Thoughts. Kind Loving Thoughts. Then we won’t Need To Monitor Our Mouths.
The Dreaded Question. My Name is Long. Convoluted. Some would Say Pretty. I’ve Come to Terms with It. It is French, After All. I Adore All Things French.
So the Spelling…Jeannine….is Tricky for Even the Brilliant.
Starbucks can be Tricky.
“Can I have your name please?” …”Sure…it’s Jeannine..”…
The Barista stares without comprehending for a moment at the screen trying to imagine the spelling. The inevitable question becomes, “Can you spell that?”. “okay, so J….”…”G?”…”No, J…”. And So It Begins.
Sometimes I just say “Janine.” That seems easier.
Today I had an Epiphany.
I, on a whim, decided to say “Susan.” It was Brilliant. No Questions Asked. No Spelling Needed. Win! I Felt a Giggle well up in my tummy. Humour on Monday Morning. Win! A Chance to Practice My Memory Skills by having to Actively Listen for “Susan” and responding in kind instead of Just Crickets as the barista stares and motions with the drink. You know, the “two pump” I call it. The double nod and the double fist pump as they try to entice you out of your reverie and forward to grab the drink you ordered. WIN!!
So today, it’s Susan. Tomorrow it’ll be Chris. If they ask me if its a C or a K…that’s still easier than…”there’s two n’s in the middle?”…”oh so like Jean-nine…!!”…
Yep, thanks Parents…love you so much, but honestly the name is a pain in the pahoukie (behind in Hawaiian)
Walking through the atrium to work yesterday, a Beautifully Dressed Man Broadly Smiled at Me. Touched To My Core by Its Genuine, I Smiled Back. Walking a Few Steps Away, I heard him start to Cheerfully Whistle a Contemporary Hymn. It Reverberated off the Granite Walls of the Atrium. My Eyes Filled with Happy Tears as My Steps Slowed. My Heart Melted.
The Hymn my Children used to Sing when they were Little at Assemblies …
“Bless the Lord, Oh My Soul…Oh My Soul, Worship His Holy Name…Sing Like Never Before, Oh My Soul, Worship His Holy Name…
I Stayed with my Back to Him, My Footsteps had Stopped. There was a Moment of Stillness in that Atrium. I will Remember That Moment til My Last Breath. I Don’t Know Who He is, But He Has My Honour. My Respect. My Gratitude.
I Felt Touched By an Angel…in a Beautifully Tailored Suit and a Broad Grin.
I slept Like a Log last Night. Unable to Shower, I Decided to Distract Unfortunate Passersby from my Bed Head with a Loud Skirt. Long. Puffy. Color Blocked.
The Cabbie Liked It. A Gentleman with a Cane as I Hurried My Just Sprung Out of Bed Behind into Banker’s Hall Liked it. Beautifully Tailored Suited Men Liked It. A little Girl in a Red Jacket Liked it. My Boss was Speechless Over It.
Let’s Just Say it Was a Hit.
So Lesson Learned. Big Bold Fashion Statements when the Hair is More Than Usual Disheveled and the Sleep is Still Being Wiped From Your Eyes.
Love Y’all. You’re One More Fashion Tip Overloaded.
My Apologies to All Wonderful Genevieves in the World.
Yesterday my Beautiful Daughter Grace said, ” Mom, your Genevieve is Out.” As much as it made me Cry Tears of Laughter, I don’t Like Genevieve. She’s an Alter Ego of mine. Or maybe it’s just Ego. My Ego.
My Kids have a Name for Her. She’s Pretentious. Judgmental. Quick to Offense. She even holds her purse a Certain way. Clasping her hands at her upper chest. Her nose is even slightly higher than normal. She’s Impatient. Superficial. She’s Really Rather Ridiculous.
I’ve Learned to Laugh at Her. Quickly Usher her to where she Belongs. Under the Control of Spirit. I only Like Myself under the wonderful control of the Spirit. Gentle. Happy. Supportive. Kind. Longsuffering.
I love that Genevieve Never Goes Away. She’s always there reminding me of My Potential to Be Kinda Awful. To Humble Myself to the Control of the Spirit.
Labouring to always make sure Genevieve stays working the Broom Closet for the Rest of my Days. She’s One Pompous Jerk.
Both Words are being used around the office describing Thanksgiving on the weekend.
“It was nice, you know…Pretty Standard…”
“Oh yeah, it was Super Special this year…”
And when it comes to Traditions, Standard is, in my opinion, Special. It’s Standardly Special to have Mom’s Stuffing Recipe. Squash because it was Dad’s Favourite. Ambrosia Salad because what is Thanksgiving Dinner without the cheesy tacky marshmallow cherry salad?
Yesterday my law firm put together a 1.03 Billion Dollar Deal. My job was organizing their many boardrooms and making sure their breakfast, lunch and dinner were catered to. Many a late night snack as well as they Worked Out The Kinks. A Rather Small Role in the whole Scheme of Things.
So I was deeply humbled this morning to come to work and find three emails from our Top Managing Lawyers for my exceptional service. Thanking me for the “extra mile” hospitality.
I’ll tell you what is Extra Mile…
Out of all the people they could thank and remember in a Billion Dollar Deal going down, is not the catering coordinator.
That’s the Extra Mile.
Again, a Lesson Learned.
You don’t get to be in these positions in life without knowing how to Pass the Kudos Down. People that Get Somewhere Special in Life are True Leaders.
Empathic. Kind. Humble
They Recognize the Extra Mile, because they are Extra Mile People.
Our office is Full of New Potential Associates at our Law Firm. They stand at the window in our Reception area and excitedly speak of the views. The Calgary Tower looms directly in front. The Views truly are remarkable. When I was here for my first interview, the boardroom faced the same view. I remember it was hard to focus with so much beauty awaiting my eyes out the window. Now I Breeze By. Now and Again, there’s a Quick Glance. It’s more now to check the weather for my walk home. It kinda makes me sad How Quick things Become Old News.
So how do we Stay Enthralled? How do we not Grow Calloused to Beauty? Why do we always need new? In what we View? In our Careers? In our Relationships?
Is it not to take a Moment and Let it Be New Again? Where we can take off the Grey Glasses of Accustom and put on the new shiny Glasses of Appreciation. Where we stop and even revel in the memory of the First Moment we saw it. Our First Day at our Dream Job. The moment we saw the One we Love.
Take a Moment and Savour the Old. Make it New Again. Your Happy Heart will Thank You.
Snow acts like a Great Insulator. I’m No Scientist but it seems to Absorb Sound. When I opened my front door to walk to work there was a Blanket of It over the City. My Walk to Work seemed Muted. Serene compared to the Hustle of a Clear Day. Maybe a lot of people took a Snow Day. I Don’t Know. But I enjoyed the Hush. I could Hear the Little Rivers Meandering down into the Grates of the Already Melting Snow. The Squishing of my Boots in the Slush. My heart felt as Light as the Little Snowflakes dotting my hair.
Some days the Gift of Being Alive is Extra Real.
It was not lost on me that as I entered Bankers Hall where I take the elevator up to the 35th floor for work, Simon & Garfunkel are singing their Famous Song…
The Sound of Silence.
In Restless Dreams I walked Alone. Narrow streets of Cobblestone. Neath the halo of the street lamp. I turned my collar to the cold and damp….
I Sometimes Marvel at the Little Things in Life that Coincide. One can look at Life as Everything just being Meaningless, or Everything Having a Meaning.
Today, although not a deep spiritual meaning, I smiled that the song that Welcomed me to my Work, was in keeping with my musings as I banged the snow off my boots in the atrium.
b l a c k l i l y 