Clifford The Big Red Blog

Melting the Need for Validation

It's the New Year and I am in PUSH mode. I don't know why, but at the turn of every year there is this unspoken pressure and anxiousness about having goals and meeting goals. Last year I filmed a special and this year I need to SELL the special. Last year I had a full calendar and this year I need EVEN MORE!!! MARKETING, DO MORE MARKETING!!! But do I need to? Really? Even if I do... do I need to do it ALL right now?

This morning as I walked home from my weekly Bible Study with my father-in-law I took notice of the melting snow. It had been SOOO pretty with the sparkling ice and snow covering everything, but now it is raining and the gravel and the mud are exposed and mixing with the slushy goop and it's GROSS. That said, it had been so cold and my appreciation for the beauty was from inside. Even though the facade of perfection is gone, I am outside and it's warmer and the birds are singing and Spring feels much closer than it did a week ago. Even though the melt exposes the mess, the melt is good. Today my gross ravenous appetite for validation is exposed, but it's also melting along with the stress.

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Han was not Solo

Friendship makes the world go round. 

I served at the Abbotsford Food Bank as their Community Development Fella for a few years. It took me a little bit to get over the stigma that went with my name tag. I was the guy who wanted your money and time and also, I wanted your money. I felt like a mafia member walking into the bakery to collect my 'tax'. "No pressure on giving a donation, but I would hate it if anything 'bad' would happen to you and your nice shop here". Not menacing at all. (Note: I never threatened anyone).

To be honest, I did not love my role at first because I was not sure how to get over my sense of 'douchey-ness'. 

But then, watching Star Wars Episode IV: the New Hope, my good pal Han Solo gave me a clue. Seriously? Yup.


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A Poem

Every morning I look out the same window. At this time of year the scene is a daily highlight. Mist & cloud floating across my view of Majuba Hill. Yarrow is pretty. Sun comes and goes and the view is constantly shifting. It's amazing what we can see when we actually stop long enough to look. This morning it reminded me of hopefulness and bravery to do what is right, but hard, but also good. 

I wrote a poem about it:

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Egg Rolls & Slippers

My wife, Sharalee, and I had returned from a weekend in Portland in time to watch the SuperBowl. Just us, our pull-out couch and a Costco sized box of eggrolls.  Sharalee became physically ill, partly due the quantity and quality of food that we inhaled and partly because the New England Patriots had just beat the Philadelphia Eagles to win the game. We loved Donovan McNabb and his kind smile. Projecting that she would be making multiple trips to the lavatory throughout the night (not sure if there is a more polite way to say that), she chose to sleep in the living room and I made the noble sacrifice of going to bed in our room. I am a very good husband.

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A Christmas Story

I wrote a story. It's true. My folks said it was okay to share. They almost agreed on all the details. Here it goes:

A Dairy Hairy Christmas Holiday

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