Keira-anne.com

Today is what’s known as “Black Friday” across the United States, where sales and great deals are as abundant as turkey leftovers from Thanksgiving. Fervent bargain hunters at a Wal-Mart store on Long Island, New York trampled a 34-year-old worker to his death this morning at 5:00 a.m.

The Associated Press reports:

Witnesses told the Daily News that before the store was closed, eager shoppers streamed past emergency crews as they worked furiously to save the worker’s life.

“They were working on him, but you could see he was dead,” said Halcyon Alexander, 29. “People were still coming through.” [source]

I have to wonder what happens to decency and respect, but I suppose that notion becomes abundantly clear when you’ve got 50-inch Plasma TVs for less than $800. Priorities, right?

When I was a child, attending church wasn’t part of my family’s weekly routine, nor was I raised with any kind of preconceived religious ideals. However, being that I experienced adolescence before our society impressed upon us all the notion that we must adhere to political correctness, I was well aware of the Christmas story and the Garden of Eden. That was the extent of my exposure.

Shortly before turning 16, I decided to tag along with some friends to a local youth group, and from there made the quick trek down a slippery slope. Before long, I was involved with youth group, church and summer camp. While I feel that my time invested in church-based activities gave me a fantastic moral foundation through some crucial years of my life, I carry much regret also. Expectations of others exceeded the reality I was capable of, and I soon found myself compromising who I was for the sake of who others wanted me to be.

It’s been, quite literally, years since I’ve set foot in a church.

Photo: Joel Bedford on Flickr

That is not to say that I’ve lost my faith. Quite the opposite, actually. I still – and always have – believed in God, and that’s just what works for me. In my mind, however, “church” and “faith” are two completely separate entities. While I have no desire to ever again be part of an establishment such as a church, I find myself desiring to reconnect with my spritiuality more as I get older.

What I think about the Bible remains to be seen (Roman scholars, anyone?), and I don’t consider prayer as a means of asking for everything I want. In reconnecting with my spirituality – which I believe to be a crucial part of whole emotional health (whatever form that may take for you) – I find myself being more realistic. I don’t petition to God with a laundry list of things I’d like Him to “fix” for me, nor do I treat Him as a genie to grant my wishes. Instead, it’s as simple as finding a bit of understanding and asking for a measure of grace and sufficiency in all things I experience.

That gives me a greater sense of peace than I’ve discovered in a very long time.

Breathe. It’s what I need to do right now. For no reason in particluar, I spent much of yesterday feeling as though I was suffocating. Blame it on PMS, blame it on the moon, the tides or whatever you will, but something just wasn’t right. As my day drew to a close, I slipped into a hot bath of epsom salts and French lavender oil and prepared myself for a full-body sob fest.

It never happened.

I slid further into the warm water until my entire head was submerged and them came up again. I couldn’t have cried if my life depended on it, and this struck me as odd, being that I fought tears all day.

Some of what I touched down on in yesterday’s post is only a slice of what’s swimming through my head. I don’t know why I feel like I’ve had these epiphanies; all I feel is as though the weight of the world is down upon me. I feel such an overwhelming sense of revelation and understanding into what directly impacts my own life that I wouldn’t know where to start unraveling it all. My brain won’t stop thinking, processing, understanding, pondering, realizing or cohering.

To some, this would seem like one’s going “crazy.” But for me, I feel the exact opposite. I don’t think I have ever felt more sane or rational and that is what is most frightening about it all. Suddenly it seems that I have been given a huge responsibility, one that I cannot take or treat lightly.

So what now? Who knows? Does anyone else experience this sometimes?

When the Persian Gulf War erupted in the summer of 1990, I was nine-years-old and verging on my 10th birthday. Over those warm months out of school, I spent most of my days wandering my Oma and Opa’s farm barefoot under the sun instead of with friends. I’d spend hours in the garden and bird aviary with my Opa when I wasn’t indoors with my Oma. She suffered from Multiple Sclerosis and therefore was generally confined to sitting on the sundeck or watching TV.

Though I was far too young to appreciate soap operas (and I still don’t), my Oma loved them and I was more than happy to keep her company on those afternoons. On August 2, 1990, Iraqi troops invaded Kuwait and before long, my Oma’s beloved soap operas were endlessly pre-empted for Persian Gulf War news coverage. Every image that my nine-year-old eyes laid sight on was of sand and tanks and military figures and Saddam, Saddam, Saddam. I was frustrated and childishly upset that we couldn’t watch our shows together all due to a “stupid war.”

The Persian Gulf War ended some months later, and some years after that I entered junior high en route to high school. There I took classes in social studies, history and comparative civilizations. Were I to enroll in these courses today, I would no doubt find them interesting while also understanding the relevance behind the events. In seventh grade, however, all my classmates and I could do was roll our eyes and question why we had to learn about something that seemed to hold no significance to a group of young teenagers.

Flash forward to November, 2008: I am now only weeks away from my 28th birthday and my world view is also that much older. The bombs dropped on Hiroshima, Japan decades before I was born. The Vietnam War broke out when my mom was just a teenager. I was only eight when the Berlin Wall crumbled and just 20 the day the towers collapsed in Manhattan. I am 27 and last night witnessed a country stand up for change and overwhelmingly elect Barack Obama as their next President.

The significant events in history are equally important to the events that happen in this world every single day. They are directly impactful on the life I live today. I live in a country where I can walk down the sidewalk and wear the clothes that I choose, believe in the faith that I choose, vote for the policiticians that I choose and make the choices that I want. That kind of freedom does not come without considerable cost.

Yesterday morning, as I went for my daily Americano as I normally do, there was a man on the corner of Hornby and Robson streets dressed in military fatigue, handing out poppies for Remembrance Day. He was quite old and I would venture to guess that he fought with Canada during World War II. He smiled warmly at me as I placed money in his collection box before allowing him to pin a poppy to my lapel. I looked down at his frail hands as they proudly placed the deep red flower over my heart. As his eyes then met my own, I considered all the things he has probably seen in his lifetime. It was all that I could do to blink back the tears that so desperately wanted to fall in gratitude.

History is not the stuff that text books are made of, nor is it comprised of a number of events that happened long before our time as individuals. History is happening on each corner of this planet, every single day. Last night, hot tears streamed down my face as the future President of the United States stressed the importance of United States, no matter a person’s income, sexual orientation, skin colour or belief. He spoke of hope and of peace while offering realistic optimism. As President-Elect Barack Obama so eloquently stated, “this victory alone is not the change we seek – it is only the chance for us to make that change.” [Source]

Like countless others across my country, across the United States and all over the globe, I woke this morning with a renewed sense of hope. I am a part of what will soon be known as history that has helped shape this world – my world – and the world that my children will some day live within. I can’t help but feel as though we as united people are about to experience the current of our river flow in a new direction as we all venture forward with both vigilance and great anticipation.

There isn’t much I’m thankful for. Hold on, though – I’m talking about quality over quantity. While the gracious things in my life are few, they are rich beyond any imaginable wealth.

I spent the entirety of yesterday, from 9:30 a.m., in the kitchen. I started by channeling my inner Charlotte York-Goldenblatt and baked a Khahlah loaf before preparing and stuffing a turkey, chopping a rainbow of vegetables and setting a table that would make Martha Stewart proud. Around 4 p.m. our guests arrived: our family’s oldest friends, Jim, Dianne and their daughter Kortney (whom I have blogged about many times before).

Though the meal took us about 16 minutes to consume, the conversation lasted close to six hours. After all was said and done, what was most clear to us all is that there is not much in life that ultimately matters. At least not much more than what is in your immediate circle.

That which is in my life that does matter and for which I am thankful…

While the list is short, it is solid and tenacious.

To all of you in Canada who are practicing the art of thankfulness today, I wish you all a very blessed day of reflection and peace.

I suppose that since she is now in her second trimester, it’s okay for me to exclaim that I’m going to be a first-time Auntie in only a few months! Trevor and Laura are expecting their first child in April, 2009 and I could not be happier for them.

Throughout my teens and very early 20s, I couldn’t wait to be a mommy. The idea was thoroughly exciting, and it was one of the only things my close girlfriends and I aspired to. One particular girlfriend, Sarah, even bought me a baby name book and baby booties for my 20th birthday (I can’t believe I even just admitted to that)! Two days ago I found out that Sarah is also pregnant and due around the same time as Laura. I am thrilled for her!

This is me, many years ago. I was pretty cute.

When we all first found out that Laura was with child, my mom became slightly concerned for me, being that I’m the older sibling and that, in theory, I should’ve become the first parent. My response was simply that I’m glad that it’s them and not me. C’est what?

As we all get older, we no doubt change in many ways. I no longer feel to be the sentimental romantic I used to be. Doing something practical and helpful for me is more heartwarming than a dozen roses. And having a baby is no longer something I feel is on my must do list – and I’m not the only one.

Another girlfriend of mine and her husband are constantly pestered by family and friends as to when they’re going to pop one out, but it simply is not on their priority list right now. And yet, so many question “what’s wrong with them?” It is far too easy to slip into a life built around someone else’s definitions of happiness and success.

This is not to say that I will never have a baby and isn’t to say that I don’t want to be a mother. It is to say that, right now, it isn’t where I’m at. Right now, I like dogs more than kids. Right now, I like that I can go out and shell out a couple hundred dollars on something new and fabulous for myself instead of diapers and burping cloths. Right now, I like that I can sleep for 10 hours on weekends.

Selfish of me? Perhaps to some. But at least I’m being honest with myself and living the life that I want to live – not the life someone else wants me to live.

Piping hot Red Rose tea is in a warm mug beside me, the delicate scent of Nag Champa wafts my way from a few feet to the left, a cuddlebug (also known to some as a dog) is contentedly sitting in my lap while another drifts in and out of sleep beside me and tomorrow is the beginning of an equally relaxing weekend.

Curl up with me and with this post. I need to tell you something.

Taking a break from my blog over the past several days has been much easier than I anticipated. While I missed composing and was never stumped for material, the time away has given me much refreshment and allowed me to make some choices about www.Keira-anne.com.

I like to blog, but I am not a blogger. While there are many who consider themselves to be bloggers and immerse themselves fully in the so-called blogosphere – which I am in no way criticizing – there is reason I personally never have. I started a blog so that I could write, share my thoughts, post snapshots of my everyday life and stay connected with family and the large number of friends I had living in places other than Vancouver. I have never been interested in the networking side of it all.

I feel as though I’ve lost sight of why I began to blog in the first place. While the actual writing was always very much the fundamental aspect to my blogging, the slippery slopes headed straight into tightrope territory. Soon, stats, fellow bloggers and blogrolls became of seemingly equal import to the content.

That being said, here’s my bottom line: I’m a 27-year-old woman living in British Columbia’s biggest city. Sometimes I’m a bit of a narcissist. Sometimes I’m not. I love my family and I love my friends. I love dogs almost just as much. I like drinking tea (with a load of milk and a pinch of sugar) and watching movies and pretending I’m a runner. I am downright passionate about the shampoo I use and equally passionate about the causes I throw my support behind. Sometimes I achieve monumental heights in the little things in life and sometimes I totally screw up and hurt people. I’m human and this is my blog.

It’s time to go back to where it all started.

“So, Keira-Anne, what does this all mean?”

Good question – I’m glad you asked! Sometimes the best thing anyone can do in any regard is to simply simplify. Pare it down, weed out the superfluous, get rid of what’s lacklustre and open the windows to let a bit of fresh air in.

The biggest change I am intent on making is pulling in the reigns a little bit. How that will look, I can’t quite say because I don’t know how to describe the change. I want to write real posts about myself without getting too deep into the abyss of it all. Sometimes a bit of privacy is key. This blog will also no longer be a social platform for myself. Instead, consider it a constantly updated resume on life. And no, you cannot have access to my references nor apply for a position.

Photo: CMPR

Secondly, the blogroll has been whittled down. Believe me, doing so was no easy task. Save for the odd enjoyable random read, including only family and close friends is what I needed to do. Long gone are the days of reciprocal link love as a courtesy. It’s nothing personal; instead just something I think is right for me and my blog.

What won’t change is that my blog will still be the place to come to read about all the stuff you deny enjoying reading about. Sure, there’ll be a juicy post here and there, some posts solely dedicated to my unbridled and continuous lust for Javier Bardem and even more posts about one girl’s quest for fabulous hair.

After all, what’s the point in having your cake if you can’t eat it (and get a little icing smeared on your candy-flavoured lips) too?

I like hot dogs. I’m a simple gal; a bit of ketchup and mustard will do. Veggie dogs are a no-no and Oscar Meyer is preferred. Fletchers wieners never make the cut.

During the Summer months, my friend Susan and I make a weekly habit of purchasing “street meat” for lunch. This is a tradition that we try to stretch out into the Fall for as long as we can, at least until the streets are swept with rain and slick leaves.

Yesterday we went to our favourite vendor along Robson Street…

Photo: Wesley Fryer on Flickr

By now the man knows us by face and is always seemingly delighted to see us. After we happily paid for our hot dogs and Diet Pepsis, another customer approached the stand and said “gimme a beef hot dog.” No please, no thank you, no common courtesy.

The more and more I pay attention, the more and more I notice that simple pleasantries seem to be a thing of the past. Most of us have, at one time or another, worked a thankless job for minimum pay. Usually those kinds of jobs include dealing with rude and unappreciative customers, so I always make it a point to be one of those rare, friendly faces.

Saying please and thank you is simply good manners. I suppose that I, unlike so many others, actually passed kindergarten.

Perhaps I’m an anomaly, but I am one of the few who actually embrace getting older. In fact, 30 doesn’t scare me; I look forward to it. You may find this strange of me, but it is, in fact, the truth. My reasoning behind this is simple.

Something I have come to notice about myself in the last year or two is that, as I have grown older, I have grown wiser. That is not, however, to say that I’ve reached any sort of particular milestone, but I firmly believe that worldly wisdom is an important objective to aim for.

What is becoming abundantly clear to me is the reality of human nature. There is beauty there, and there is also ugliness. Sometimes neither is avoidable, and so a perspective grounded in reality is crucial to emotional survival.

In my humble opinion, one of the most unsightly sides to human nature is the way in which people treat each other. Let me preface this by saying that I in no way purport to exclude myself. Mud slinging, talking smack and insults seem, unfortunately, to be a part of almost anyone’s past. The trials and tribulations of adolescence and high school practically dictate the necessity of these tools. It’s something we all learn from a very early age.

Whether it’s to feel as though one is accepted or as a defence mechanism, I believe it all comes down to the self-esteem factor. The beauty in aging, growing older, experiencing life and gaining wisdom should theoretically have a direct impact in this arena.

With age can come cynicism; with experience can come hard lessons in reality. There will always be someone who has what we want, there are people who live on sidewalks, children who go hungry, politicians that lie, family and friends who let us down. What is important to realize is the simple fact that no one is perfect. And with that insight, hopefully we are able to rise above what is ultimately minute, what causes us insecurity and allows us to live lives that are fruitful rather than rotten.

While I could find some comfort in sitting here, lamenting over what tries to tear me down or make me feel less about myself than I should or am entitled to is a wasted effort. I know what is solid and real in my life. I know who Keira-Anne really is (and she’s turning out to be a pretty terrific woman, if I do say so myself), I know why my family is so invaluable, I have unyielding trust in the precious few friendships in my life and for the first time ever, feel as though I have the ability to rise above what is fleeting.

“What would the world be like
If, for every rose given
Another would be received?”

[source]

For close to three years, I have worked in the same office tower in downtown Vancouver. It’s about 22 levels of law firms, investment offices and other well oiled money-making machines. On the bottom floor there are two cafes, a travel agent, a florist and, among other things, a convenience store. This convenience store, however, is unlike any other I’ve ever been in for the simple fact that it’s owned and run by two of the truly most astounding people I’ve come to know in this city.

Photo: Humpalumpa on Flickr

Nikki and her husband Raul (who I’ve affectionately come to call ‘Uncle Raul’) are often the respite in the long days I haul at the office. Usually once a day I’ll slip downstairs to buy a scratch ticket, a mini candy bar or a Diet Pepsi. My real reason for the visits, however, is simply to engage in warm conversation – even if only for a minute or two. Today was much like every other day, except in that by the time I was done having my chat with ‘Uncle Raul,’ I realized I’d been absent from my desk for 40 minutes.

As I’ve said before, a father is an irreplaceable person in a young girl’s life, but there are many men in a lifetime that wear the shoes in an instance or two. ‘Uncle Raul’ has always told me that I can come to him and Nikki to talk, share, seek advice and listen. And believe me, to say that ‘Uncle Raul’ loves to talk would be grossly understating the truth. It’s a good thing, too, because the man has a lot of wise and well-learned truths to share.

Today we spoke of loving others and sharing humanity. How the subject even came up in the first place, I’m not entirely sure.

Photo: ~Aphrodite on Flickr

Sometimes, and even often times, we will encounter people in our daily lives that impact us in a decidedly negative way. They drain us of our energies and our inside light, and sometimes through no intended way. Something as simple as a misconstrued e-mail or disconcerting glance can have a crushing effect. Sometimes it’s people we know; sometimes it’s a complete stranger.

It is because of this very reason that it is absolutely both essential and crucial that we as human beings put forth an extra ounce of ourselves to show compassion; to show a spirit of humanity. And before we can gain the ability to show love and kindness to those we know and don’t know, we as individuals need to show love and kindness to our own selves.

What is important in the big picture is holding on to the truths that we know, rather than the often irrational thoughts and ideas that ping around in our heads like marbles. While those marbles are likely to roll away once they’ve been exhausted, what we ultimately know is what’s left behind. Through this, we can instead create and hold on to an awareness of who we truly are on the inside. By this, I don’t simply mean our personalities, but the fact that there is constantly a battle brewing between our sensible, logical selves and our egocentric selves.

Photo: hidden side on Flickr

What do I mean by this? There is an insatiable, irresistible and voracious trait in each of us that wants our circumstances to change, to move the hands on the clock to 5:00 p.m. when we’ve just started work, to part the traffic so we won’t be sitting in a highway jam for an hour, for that phone to ring, for payday to come, for our holidays to start…

None of that matters. Right now, I am sitting in my pajamas in a wooden chair, clicking my fingertips on a keyboard and sharing with you the lesson I’ve learned today. That is the only thing that matters right now – this instant.

Right now, you are sitting at your computer and reading what I just wrote. Beyond that, take stock of the very moment you’re in. Realize it for what it is, have patience with yourself, accept the current circumstance of this very minute and be okay with it.

Love yourself wholly, and the ability to love others will come that much easier.