Little Old Lady … in Waiting

Tag: perfect day

  • In Conversation with Dr. Alison Luke

    Alison Luke is a witty, artsy intellectual who I had the great good fortune to meet in the schoolyard when our first-born darlings entered kindergarten together. A founding member of the “Coffee Mommies” collective, the setting for so many rich and sumptuous mornings of coffee and conversation, and the genesis of a great many stimulating and enduring friendships, Alison was always that triple threat friend: maker of tasty baked goods, a scintillating conversationalist and a formidable academic, well versed in a wide spectrum of subjects, always happy to engage on topics ranging from literature and art to philosophy and politics.  Her eyes shine brightest when she gets her teeth into questions of class, culture and power. 

    Perhaps the best way to describe Alison is like a character in a Woody Allen film, one of the better ones, maybe Manhattan Murder Mystery …think urban, cultured, a perfect dinner party guest.  Curious, thoughtful and ethically grounded, Alison is verbally agile, vivacious, and delightfully funny, especially when existentially alarmed.  In short, she is most excellent company and an exceptional friend to call one’s own.

    Born in Belfast, Northern Ireland, Alison’s father, a British South African engineer was in the UK doing graduate work when he met and married a small-town girl from Lincolnshire, England.  A poverty activist and social worker, Alison’s mother was instrumental in establishing the first homeless shelter for men in Fredericton, NB, calling them her ‘angels.’  Growing up in Fredericton where her father taught at the University of New Brunswick, Alison developed an early and lifelong interest in politics, excelling in debate and model parliament.  Today, she is a proud card-carrying member of the NDP, an ideologue, who votes her conscience in a well-established two-party system, and remains deeply left of center on the political spectrum when much of her cohort has crept quietly to the midlands.

    Originally planning on becoming a country doctor, but confounded by the multiple-choice format exams, Alison finished her first degree in English Literature with a drama option in theatre, and completed a PHD in Sociology in 2010, remotely from the Maritimes while raising a family. No small accomplishment. I asked her how she landed on Sociology. “Sociology is the study of society, trying to understand why we do the things we do but rooted in social structures. Marxism, Feminism, Critical Race Theory…all that comes out of Sociology.  My PhD looked at how our attitudes change over time around things like religious identities and sexual/gender identities…not as much of a political bent to it as I might have liked but at the PhD level you learn very quickly that you need to do something you can finish…and that was something I could finish,” she laughs.

    Today Alison works as Associate Research Director at the Center for Research and Integrated Care at UNB, which focuses on models of care designed to improve health care delivery. “We are working on making health care less fragmented and more integrated, so we do assessments and implement pilot projects like patient navigation or case management and then evaluate to see how it’s working. My work is all about health service delivery, and everything we do is patient oriented which means we always have patient partners or care givers or more broadly people with lived experience who sit on our research team and inform everything we do.”

    Timely work indeed.  I asked Alison if she feels her team is making any real progress within the maelstrom of the current health care crisis. “Frankly one thing that drives me nuts, working with the government who use the language of efficiency and cost-cutting, is that they always want more for less. I’m often the person in the meeting…at 58 I don’t care so much about optics now…I speak up and say maybe the answer might actually be that we need to invest more in primary care, because we don’t invest as much in primary care as say the UK.  If you’re worried about the ER overflowing with people and long wait times, and people lying in hospital beds and worried about whether they should be there, then invest more in primary care.”

    In the last few years, Alison recently took up the tuba and the euphonium or ‘little tuba’, lovingly described as “the cello of the concert band” and plays in Saint Mary’s Band as well as a lovely local ensemble called The Second Chance Band, an orchestra of enthusiastic, eclectic and quirky amateur musicians whom she affectionately likens to the “land of misfit toys.” “I have band practice three nights a week and have reclaimed a lot of joy in having music in my life again. A band is a beautiful thing.”

    Tell me your life story in seven sentences or less? 

    I grew up with a strong sense of community and a love for helping others and a strong belief that everyone should be treated with dignity and respect.  My mother was an extremely strong influence…maybe not the most nurturing person in the world, but she showed me how to be strong and passionate and to care about the world around me. My dad taught me a love of learning, to be interested and curious about the world…wanting to know about everything and I like to think I embody those qualities.  I have always been interested in debate and public speaking and politics and even theatre which I think is a way of showcasing passion. I love the whole performance aspect. I was always involved in music and theatre; it was a big part of my formative years. Later I got to travel a bit around Canada.  I think I got a pretty good education, I had two amazing children, and eventually settled in Saint John…and the rest as they say is history.

    What is the best thing about getting older?

    I think it’s not giving a fuck. I’ve heard that before, I’ve read it, but it really resonates with me. I do think there is some freedom in getting older and I don’t care so much about most things these days.  Now with that, there is the whole other thing about being a woman getting older. Invisibility, which can be freeing, is also wrapped up in all this ageism stuff. We become little old ladies and people maybe start to treat you a little differently, and that can be a bit demeaning. But overall, the freedom I think on the whole is good.

    What is the worst thing about getting older?

    It’s kind of two sides of the same coin.  I work with a lot of people who are under 40, so a lot of young people, and you do hear a lot of little jokes about the fact that maybe Alison can’t hear very well, which I can laugh about, but it is interesting to me.  Somebody at work once referred to a pair of shoes suggesting they must belong to Alison because they look like old lady shoes, so I promptly called him out.   I do find ageism very interesting.  I saw it with my mother when she became sick, people talking over her or making an assumption that she couldn’t answer for herself. And so even though I’m not yet 60, you start to see this creep in of ageism and it kind of pisses me off.  The worse part of it is imagining someday being seen as having no value at all.

    What would you title this chapter of your life?

    Autumn. The Fall is my favourite season. There is a sense of comfort and plenty in the Fall season. You’re not trying to fit into bikinis, it’s the season of comfy sweaters and layering. Back to school is my favourite time of year and it reminds me of this season of my life.

     If you could retain or retrieve one quality from your youth, what would it be?

    Sometimes I wish I was more easy-going. As we age, we maybe worry a bit more about certain things.  I wish I could just have people over and not worry so much about what my house looks like, I don’t know when that happened.  I never used to care quite so much about those things.  Maybe we become our parents a bit more as we age.  I think of us now as the accumulation of all the things we were when we were young and I don’t think those things are gone.  But as we mature, maybe we soften, and maybe some of our younger insecurities are gone now, but new worries take hold, like worrying about not being around for your kids someday.

    What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned so far?

    To focus on what’s in front of you and to live your life in the moment.  I think we spend so much time thinking about regrets or worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet, and I think it’s enough to just focus on what’s in front of you today.  And that may be a problem to solve or maybe something really awful that’s happening in the moment.  I’m not some Pollyanna saying “Don’t worry, be happy in the moment” but I’ve learned to focus on what’s right in front of me and let that be enough for now.

    Do you have a favourite quote?

    Yes, it’s a quote by Anton Chekhov.  It’s a line in the Cherry Orchard about a character being teased for being a perpetual student. It’s not a fancy quote, it’s more the idea.  “He moved through the world as a perpetual student, more interested in understanding life, than in ever mastering it.” For me it’s about having a lifelong interest in learning and staying curious.

    Do you have a favourite word?

    Melancholy. I love the word melancholy.  It’s a great sounding word.  I love it because it’s kind of that interesting place where you’re not euphoric but you’re not sad … but you’re not quite content either.  It’s this sweet place, like a Fall day, it feels kind of cloudy, or windy, maybe late in Fall, and you’re bundling up to go outside, or settling down to a good book.  I think we reflect when we’re melancholy. I think of the Romantic poets, and this idea of being in the depths of despair, like Anne Shirley in Anne of Green Gables…I guess I like getting caught up in the idea of being tragically cast sometimes.

    Describe your perfect day.

    My perfect day would be sleeping in a little bit for a start.  I don’t like to get up really early.  Working full time, I long for days when I can work from home and push the snooze till about 8 am.  After that, I would love to have a really good cup of coffee, probably two.  Then I’d like to do my New York Times puzzles. And on a perfect day with no housework or anything like that, I would want to go for a really great hike in the Fundy area with ocean views. After that, I would like to go to a pub for a nice craft beer and come home for a good dinner, listen to some music, talk politics, put the news on, maybe watch a show and I would be sure to carve out a good hour or so to read in bed, a favourite pastime.

    If you could have tea with anyone, real or fictional, dead, or alive, who would it be and what would you talk about?

    Well, if I really think about someone I’ve always wanted to sit down to tea with, it would be Karl Marx.   He believed that if people can suddenly wake up from their sleep, we can realize that our numbers mean we can change the world. Our numbers are our power and there is hope in that.  I see Marx as very hopeful, and I would just love to pick his brain. I’d love to hear his take on what’s going on now around the world. We would talk about politics, of course. I want to sit with him in some smoky old pub, drink a beer and smoke a cigarette and talk to Karl Marx about the state of the world.

    Tell me three things that bring you joy.

    Hard to narrow it down to three.  I mean there is the obvious, my children, and my children do bring me huge joy but if I was to think of just me, it would be reading.  Reading brings me great joy. Also camping in my little camper.  It was a pandemic purchase that has brought so much joy.  Our favourite place to camp and hike is Fundy National Park. We have a little heater and a functional bathroom…I love it so much, I love the Maritimes; I love everything about where we live and with the camper, we can explore it all. A third joy would be spending time with family.  My dad visits every weekend and time with family and friends means everything to me.

    Name a guilty pleasure.

    I don’t feel guilty about any pleasure.  I love wine and I love chocolate. I love to eat…I love good food… I love butter. But I try very hard to not to think of them as guilty pleasures, they’re just pleasures, they’re my pleasures. One of my favourite ways to spend an evening is to go out for a good meal or make a nice meal at home…some nibblies and wine and maybe trying a new recipe.

    Do you believe in life after death? What does it look like?

    Well, I’ve thought a lot about this one, and though I was raised going to church, I’ve never believed in the whole idea of this place called Heaven. In all of my various sociology of religion courses, I was always a big fan of the eastern traditions, like Buddhism and even Hinduism, and I’m very drawn to the idea that energy is neither created or destroyed. But also, there is a side of me as well, the existentialist, who hates the idea of living for something better after death. That sort of thinking can work to oppress people and keep people poor, ‘Oh don’t worry, at least you’ll go to heaven.’   I think people need to make the best of the life they have right now…act now, and make this life a good one.  But at the same time, I pair that with an idea that once we go, I think we’re in the trees and the birds and we may even be reincarnated.   That would be more where my thoughts might go to as a belief system, if there is anything.  My practical brain says I become good compost, and that’s also great.   I’d be eaten by worms or be food for a tree, and then become the tree or the birds. Bury me in the ground, I want a compost burial.  I hope that kind of thing is available as an option around here.

    What would you like your eulogy to say?

    I’ve thought a lot about this one as well. There is what you think you’d like people to say, what people will say, and then you’ve got the self-deprecating person who might wonder if anyone will say anything nice at all.  ‘Maybe nobody will come to my party,’ Alison laughs.  But what I’d like my eulogy to say is that I was passionate, that I cared about people, that I had a love for life and that I was compassionate.

     

     

  • In Conversation with Nicola Carter

    If I ever write a novel, my heroine would look and speak and live a life a lot like Nicola Carter. Think Gwyneth Paltrow in Wes Anderson’s The Royal Tannenbaums, some undisclosed number of years later. Closing in on 70, Nicola remains an uncommon beauty, with a brilliant mind, and an elegance or manner that sets her apart from her peers. She has an air of mystery…she intrigues me.  It’s not that she doesn’t dive in to the deep end and discuss deeply meaningful, life altering experiences, it’s simply that you are left with the impression that she holds something in reserve, like a secret locked away, encrypted in her backstory. I must confess to a LOLIW girl crush.

    During our interview Nicola serves me a cup of hibiscus tea, her current favourite, and a plate of halva, a dense, sweet middle eastern treat, both firsts for me.  A tea ball in the character of a mouse, hangs precariously from the side of my hand painted cup.  I am enchanted. In the home she shares with her husband, Jeff, the walls have been hollowed out to hold and frame hundreds of books, the remaining wall space is covered in an interesting, esoteric art collection gathered on her travels or inherited from ancestral homes. One small impressionist landscape in bright yellow draws my eye, a shock of sunshine from the back deck spills into the living room, and transfers my attention to a well-appointed outdoor space that transports you to a private, wooded, Narnia-like oasis, all within the city limits. Every part of her home has been utilized with intelligent design.  I feel at home immediately, welcomed by the princely Leo, a well-trained and well-loved retriever, easily the greatest treasure in Nicola’s collection.

    Born in Saint John, Nicola spent her early childhood in Fairvale (Rothesay).  Her mother was a concert pianist and her father a well-known corporate lawyer, described as “The Giant Slayer” after fighting and winning a case in the Supreme Court against a prominent NB family empire. Her father passed away when Nicola was just 15 and her family moved from Toronto to New York where she and her brother were both accepted into the prestigious Dalton School, where many prominent and powerful U.S. leaders are educated.

    While English Literature was her first love, Nicola completed an honours degree in Computer Science receiving the program medal, graduating at the top of her class in a male dominated field of study.  She started a family around the same time she started her IT career with the Newfoundland Telephone Company, later working for McGill University where she was involved in building the internet in the mid 1980s, when only research institutes and the military had access to the platform. She was instrumental in building the Quebec network (RISQ). and later ran the province’s operations network for them.  She describes the experience as “good fun…we we’re inventing things.”  She eventually returned to New Brunswick, where she soon began work at UNB, tasked with building the internet in NB. “NBTel very quickly saw a way that they could monetize it, by installing modem banks…where people would buy email addresses and then NBTel would manage it.  At this point the network was still dial up and they put me in operations where people were hands on with the Internet and where they needed the most support and experience.”

    “In time I made a lateral move into engineering where I was tasked with maintaining the infrastructure and eventually moved into management.  Every new technology came with problems and I enjoyed being part of the teams that solved those problems.  Engineering was also where I met my husband, Jeff.”  The information highway was a brave new world and Nicola was well placed with the credentials and the knowledge to take on the challenge of an exponentially accelerating and expanding field. “When it took off it took off,” she remembers.

    Today, retired for more than ten years, Nicola maintains an active lifestyle, as an avid outdoorswoman, a passionate chef, a cryptic crossword aficionado, an art lover, a grandmother and more recently a great grandmother. She is well travelled and well-read and enjoys what I would describe as an aristocratic lifestyle. Her days are her own, she maps her own course, and although she has known great loss in her life , she found her way out of the dark, a herculean task, her intellectual curiosity intact, and her joy of learning enhanced and thriving.

    Tell me your life story in seven sentences or less?

    I was born in Saint John, and went to school in N.B., Toronto and New York, always a bookish introvert with a passion for reading, animals, music and asking questions…annoying questions.

    After graduating, I had some false starts, bailing from a pre-med program at Western, bussing tables in Vancouver, driving across the U.S. in winter in a $200 ‘62 Ford Fairlane, later landing in Newfoundland with a revised study plan at Memorial: a degree in English Literature, then a sharp turn to an Honours degree in Computer Science, acquired to gain immediate employment (I was pregnant with my first child at that point).

    Over 37 years, I enjoyed a varied, challenging career in technology-based roles, beginning at Newfoundland Telephone, then McGill (early heady days of building the Internet), UNB (more technology builds as the Internet evolved including some teaching consulting and development in other areas such as multi-media), and finally at NBTel in Engineering and Operations technical and management roles until retirement in 2015.  My favourite roles? Solving complex technical problems.

    Since 1979, I have enjoyed parenting my sons Ben and David, born in Newfoundland, and since 1994, step-parenting Jennifer and Jessica, daughters of my husband, Jeff.  The challenges were many, and the rewards, great.

    What is the best thing about getting older?

    Self-knowledge of my physical and mental strengths and weaknesses. This helps me better understand what I need to do to thrive in my body and my mind.  I confess to not always acting on this knowledge but it keeps me from trying unnecessarily hard.  I can generally relax and accept more than I used to.

    What is the worst thing about getting older?

    Loosing people I love.

    What would you title this chapter of your life?

    I have a different one every day but I’ve settled on “Riding the Waves: Aging Gracefully and Gratefully”

    Describe Your Perfect Day

    A day which starts as a blank slate with no appointments holds the promise of a perfect day.

    The day would flow with a balance of exercise, reading, music, time with a friend, learning something new (probably from CBC, overnight radio, or a podcast), a long dog walk and, if it’s not winter, kayaking, swimming, dock-sitting, and ending with a really good meal.

    If you could retain or retrieve one quality from your youth, what would it be?

    I don’t think I have lost many qualities of my youth, except perhaps overwhelming anxiety which I’m glad to have tossed, mostly.  I am glad to have retained an abiding sense of wonder, hope, and optimism, a walking “Maggie Muggins” inside. I retain my childhood thirst for knowledge and ceaseless curiosity.  Lucky me.

    What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned so far?

    Hmmm…I have really experienced and learned a lot.  The most important lesson I have learned is that control is an illusion. I humbly accept how little control we mortals have over much on our lives. This is profoundly freeing.  The seeds of this knowledge were planted early, with the unexpected suicide of my father when I was 15. Untimely deaths have been a recurring tragedy in my life.  In 1994, my youngest brother, Erskine, succumbed to a long-term illness, aged 24.  In 2023, my oldest son, Ben, died unexpectedly in Egypt, where he had lived and taught for 10 years.  That same year, my dear younger brother/best friend, Cyrus, died, aged 65 in Istanbul, where he made his home as a teacher for over 30 years. I am still reeling from these last two losses but will say that the profound knowledge that I can control so little, and that I should not try, brings me some peace. Maybe we can only really start letting go when things have gone.

    The lesson is not all bound to negative outcomes. I have had some surprising experiences which have happened around me, circumstances not in my control, that have reinforced the lesson in a positive way. Back in 1984, my partner and our two sons were in Montreal during the Labour Day Central station bomb blast.  We were actually at the station when the bomb erupted with noise and smoke and screams.  It’s a crazy story …we made our way out of the carnage and by some strange circumstance ended up chatting with a man who reassured us that the bomb had not been on my brother’s departing train.  That evening the man’s photo appeared on the TV.  He was the perpetrator.  We then became involved in the subsequent inquest and trial. 

    Another time I was able to rescue two little boys from drowning at a local lake, just by sheer luck…I spotted something.  I was just in the right place at the right time.

    Finally, and perhaps most extraordinarily, I brought Jeff (husband) back from near death…also by sheer luck, when I found him unresponsive and not breathing in time to bring him back to life. How fortunate I was in time.

    In short, I placidly accept my relative insignificance, and do what I can do to deal with situations…good, bad, or frightening, and accept the surprise of unexpected adventures.

    Do you have a favourite quote?

    A quote that frequently comes to mind is “Would it help?” This came from the film, A Bridge of Spies, when a spy is about to be sent to his probable death in East Berlin.  His captor notes that he seem svery calm and asks if he is afraid, to which he responds, “Would it help?” I think of these words when faced with situations which could drive anxiety, or fear or anger. It gives me space to temper my reaction.

    Can I have another? In a recent interview, Bob Rae mentioned that he read aloud Shakespeare Sonnet # 25 as he migrated from one political role to another. The quote contrasts temporary “proud titles” with the enduring joy found in true love I think that sentiment brings a valuable humbling perspective to some of the trappings we might boast That resonates with me.

    The two quotes Rae highlighted from the Sonnet were:

    “The painful warrior famoused for fight, / After a thousand victories once foiled, is from the book of honour razed quite, / And all the rest forget for which he toiled;”

    “Then happy I, that love and am beloved, / Where I may not remove nor be removed.”

    Do you have a favourite word?

    My favourite word is an acronym, F.A.E. (fundamental attribution error) I use the word often at home as I did at work, to remind myself and others that we should not ascribe someone’s behavior to our ill- formed impression of their character, when the bad behavior could result instead from circumstances of which we are not aware. We should not immediately presume to know what’s going on in another’s head.  We should take a breath and seek to understand.  FAE has a been a good tool in de-escalating conflict.  I can cry out, ‘Hey, FAE!’ at home and we all pause to reset.

    If you could have tea with anyone, real or fictional, dead or alive, who would ir be and what would you talk about?

    My brother, Cyrus, whom I would call my longest, precious friend.  We never judged each other, shared so many interests, were both avid readers, and curious learners. I want to pick up where we left off in 2023, when he was still well, share some tears and many hearty laughs.  Sublime and the ridiculous.  My internal conversations with him still go on.

    Tell me three things that bring you joy.

    Witnessing the next generation evolving.  I have loved watching my sons and step-daughters making their way.  Now I enjoy seeing my grandchildren, who are all different and special in their own ways, growing.  Grandparenting is such a rich role.  A great grandchild was born into our clan last year. Another person to witness in their evolution.

    Walking in nature or just walking – especially with my dog.

    In summer sitting on the verandah at the camp looking out at the lake and listening, and often reading. Doing nothing is not really doing nothing.

    Name a guilty pleasure.

    So many pleasures and so little guilt.  Is that wrong? I assume that guilt might arise if one felt judged for these pursuits.  I happily admit to seeking solace in true crime podcasts, and doing word puzzles pretty much every day.

    Do you believe in life after death?

    If there were life after death, I don’t believe it involves a corporeal existence nor anything we currently understand.  Perhaps we live on in the memories kept by friends and family and our energy is drawn back into the universe.

    What would you like you r eulogy to say?

    I’ll come to this answer indirectly. At my son’s celebration of life ceremony, five of us spoke: myself, Ben’s father, Arthur; Ben’s brother, David; Ben’s lifelong friend, Matt; and Ben’s close friend in Cairo, Jim. We did not discuss in advance what we planned to say.  What emerged organically was a remarkable and moving tribute, with little overlap between the 5 speeches, each one recalling different aspects of Ben.  It was clear that we all had different relationships with Ben, largely dependent upon our roles.  In total, we together painted the complete picture of Ben and learned how he had touched each one of us.

    I would like to be remembered similarly, in eulogy or privately, by those I have loved or touched, for what we have shared and what they have valued about our relationship.  Actually, I’d like to know these things before I die.

  • In Conversation with Sherry Fitzgerald

    Sherry Fitzgerald is my extraordinary sister-in-law and the youngest little old lady in waiting I will be interviewing in this series celebrating women over 50, a project devised and designed to elucidate wisdom teachings from my peers as we enter our last and ideally most intentional years. I have learned a lot from this dynamic, pocket-sized, ‘powerhouse’ wellness expert over the years, and I saved our conversation especially for January, a time when so many of us are reflecting on lifestyle changes to optimize health and wellbeing.

    Sherry’s life story sits unequivocally in the action-adventure category.  She rises at 4 am each day, works out twice a day, running, swimming, and biking 3 times a week, and making time to strength train 4 to 5 times each week. I often see her in Yoga class as well, she calls it her ‘treat’. In her early 50’s, Sherry has a body that most women in their 20’s would covet, and her biological age is, I strongly suspect, at least a decade younger than what her driver’s license indicates. She has run dozens of marathons in her athletic career and began training for Ironman competitions in her 40s, completing four of these grueling tests of strength and endurance to date, notably in Lake Placid and Mount Tremblant. For non-sporty types, these are triathlons starting with a 3.9-kilometer swim, followed by a 180-kilometer bike race, and for the closer, a full marathon, a 42-kilometer run. Mountain climbing was Sherry’s first physical challenge, climbing Mount Katahdin at age 18 and working as a mountaineer for a time in her younger years, spending 3 months in the fiords of Newfoundland. She is proficient at rock and ice climbing, she has jumped out of planes and bungee jumped, and was married in a hot air balloon.

    I asked her where such fire comes from, the genesis of her tremendous discipline and a lifelong devotion to fitness.  She shared with me that losing her father two weeks after her 17th birthday was a traumatic and profoundly impactful experience. “To be honest with you, I think I didn’t want to be on the earth for a while…there was a period in high school where if I knew more about suicide, I might have taken my life.  Once I figured out that wasn’t what I wanted to do, I kind of went in the opposite direction and said ‘Ok, who are the healthiest people in the world…I’m going to mirror what they’re doing’, and I did a 360 turn from there.  That’s why my fitness roots are so strong.  Every triathlon, every Ironman I complete is a little memoriam to my dad…most marathons I don’t even stop for the medal…it’s never been about that.”

    How she maintains such discipline has always been a mystery to me.  I asked her the secret. “I know our minds are very powerful, and sometimes not in our favor,” she tells me, “They’re always trying to keep us from doing anything hard, and I know that about my mind, and so now it’s the behavior that has to override that, so I just put actions first, before the feelings.  I am good at moving.  I get the endorphins, and I’m lucky in that I feel good when I’m moving.  But I also want to make sure that I move in a way that’s good for me, that includes rest and recovery and sometimes trying something new.  I’m not so good at sitting and that’s an area I’d like to explore more now.”

    No interview with a fitness expert would be complete without asking about diet, especially as the new year begins.  With respect to food, Sherry prioritizes longevity and optimizing feeling good above all. “I know instantly when I eat something whether it’s going to support my health or betray me.” Sherry eats a colorful rainbow of food, securing as many phytonutrients as she can get, and maximizing healthy fats and proteins.  Her diet is research-based but also customized to satisfy her palette.  “You have to make it your own, so you don’t feel hungry, or like you’re missing out. The food I eat leaves me feeling my best and if I didn’t feel that way, then I would still have some work to do.  I eat a plant-based diet. I don’t eat meat, or processed foods…no dairy, no wheat, no alcohol…I stay with whole foods. But there is no set formula. I’m not religious about food. I do take supplements and enjoy a pea or hemp protein smoothie daily maybe with chia and collagen and creatinine.  I do believe in fasting as well for my body to detox and clean.  During the day is my grace period. I graze and stay light during peak movement hours.  At the end of the day, I eat an enriched salad with a warm veg as well and I try to include 9 to 12 different colours on my plate.”

    Sherry has volunteered and worked contract and salaried positions at the YMCA in Saint John since she was in high school, initially as a fitness instructor and later as a personal trainer. Today she works full time as the Fitness Supervisor at the Y, where she is a well-loved and tremendously popular icon of fitness, a wellness mentor, and a stellar ambassador, exemplifying the philosophy and principles that the YMCA has long championed, embodying core values like inclusiveness, and kindness. I have on many occasions considered writing to her CEO to let them know what a magnificent asset they have in her and would have done so had we not shared the same last name. She has saved my life more than once.  After suffering great personal loss and working to overcome injury, it was often her voice that kept me moving and held me together on the hard days, and her steps I followed to find my way back to myself.  

    A wellspring of positive energy and a beacon of light, I know she has helped a great many others transition through similar periods of challenge with her characteristic humour, relentless encouragement, and deep hearted kindness. There is a small legion of little old ladies in waiting queuing up at the Y most days for the full Sherry experience, where she is leaving a legacy, fortifying a cohort of bodies, minds, and spirits, ensuring we live full and active lives, one standing abdominal curl and suitcase squat at a time. She makes movement fun, she creates a culture of safety that meets us where we are on our fitness journey, she distracts us from the hard parts, and encourages us to experience and enjoy the challenging work of staying healthy. She asks us to imagine what feels impossible some days and empowers us to find our own stride and strength, leading us in classes that build our muscles, create community, and elevate us all.

    Tell me your life story in seven sentences or less.

    I grew up fast after losing my father at a young age, and it changed the entire direction of my life. Health, movement, and taking care of my body became a priority from the beginning. That path led me to a lifelong career in fitness and wellness, helping others live the life they don’t want to lose. I built a family of my own, two children and a husband who anchor me, inspire me and remind me why every minute matters. I’ve learned to chase joy, strength, and connection with intention. I believe in living fully, honestly, and with purpose.

    What is the best thing about getting older?

    Understanding what truly deserves your energy and letting go of everything that doesn’t.  It’s a gift to grow older, as we know.  My energy and my first priority has always been my family, but especially now, after the kids moved out.  I make a point to keep up with what’s going on in their lives, checking in on a regular basis, and making connections when I can, when they let me, she laughs. I make dates with my mom, celebrating her is a priority to me as well.  But at the start of each day, I prioritize myself.  The stronger I am, the more strength I can lend to everything else.  So, it always starts with me.  I’m up early and in bed early by 8 or 9pm.  It would be a wild night for me if I didn’t get to bed until 10, there would be some mischief happening.

    What is the worst thing about getting older?

    Realizing that time moves faster than you think, and that you can’t get any of it back.  I set intentions every day and at the end of day I usually do a little recap. In my bed I’ll revisit what went well not only with respect to my goals but also regarding my personal values, so if I can be authentic and live up to the values I’ve set for myself, then I count that as a win, to have lived a good day.  I don’t wait for Friday every week to weigh in and see how I’m doing…I think we’re past that.

    What would you title this chapter of your life?

    Living with Intention and Purpose

    What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned so far?

    That living authentically and staying true to my values matters most, especially when life is going well. It’s important not to take anything for granted, to appreciate your life every day.  Every day is a gift.  Choosing to look for the brighter side and trusting that every experience, even the difficult ones, is something I am meant to learn and grow from, here to shape who I am becoming.

    If you could retain or retrieve one quality from your youth, what would it be?

    The ability to bounce back without overthinking. As a child when something happens you tend to get distracted by something else so quickly and it’s easier to just let things go; whereas as an adult, and I’m getting better at this now, but if someone looks at me a certain way or if I potentially hurt someone’s feelings, or someone hurts mine, it stays with you. We have more experiences at play and more meaning behind those experiences because of the life span, and things can become more emotional.

    Do you have a favourite quote?

    What you give out always finds its way back. I do believe in karma. I think angry people hold that inside themselves and I wouldn’t wish that for anyone.  My mom is very religious and brought us up on the ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’  So even if no one else is around when you do something bad you still internalize it, and it will come back to teach you again.

    Do you have a favourite word?

    Kindness.  It’s my number one strength.  Not only in how I treat others but also in how I treat myself.  I wasn’t kind to myself for a lot of years and it’s a fine balance between giving and not taking too much away from yourself.  I’m just getting it now.  I wasn’t as kind to myself as I was to everybody else for many years.  I practice kindness in a more balanced way now and that feels good.  A coach once told me to imagine someone you love very much and consider how you would treat them or counsel them in similar circumstances. You would want to treat them kindly, and so now hold the mirror up and take that approach with yourself.

    Describe your perfect day.

    A morning workout to set the tone, followed by time with my family, unrushed, present, connected. A long walk in nature and meaningful conversation. I have that perfect day every week with my friends and with my family.  Now whether that’s my husband’s shining moment of the week I don’t know. (Laughing) No… marrying Derek was probably the smartest thing I ever did, and I think there was a higher power that brought my husband to me.  He is pure kindness.  Meaningful conversation for me includes our speaking about our shared memories and the future, dreaming together, and listening to stories from my mother’s childhood as well. I’m at age now where I have the capacity to care and listen better.  I ask more open-ended questions to learn more from the people I care about most.

    If you could have tea with anyone, real or fictional, dead, or alive, who would it be and what would you talk about?

    My father. I’d want to tell him who I became, and introduce him to the family he never met, and I would ask him everything I never got the chance to ask. I’m very proud of the life we’ve built together.  It doesn’t just happen, as you know, it’s a lot of hard work and a lot of sweat, a lot of time and effort and sacrifice, but also lot of joy and a lot of learning.  My husband is a gift, I’d just have to present him. The same with the kids, they are just so unique. I would just send them in.  I never really got a chance to know my dad as an adult, to learn what he liked to do, what some of his favourite things are.  I would like to learn more about him, to really know him.  I was just so angry that he left, it made for some very hard teenage years.  I would love the chance to get to know him, and to like him.

    Tell me three things that bring you joy.

    Movement. Family. Helping someone discover their own strength. In my work at the Y, where I get the most joy is having those conversations with people and them speaking out loud their goals and dreams and the privilege of being that person that can help them get there.  I’ve been given so many tools throughout my education to support people and I feel so fortunate to be that person that can help them unlock their potential or rediscover their passion and joy. Those conversations…they’re a big part of my intention and my purpose, and my joy, catching people when they need a hand up.

    Name a guilty pleasure.

    Reality T.V and Kind bars.

    Do you believe in life after death? What does it look like?

    I believe our spirit continues, maybe as energy, maybe as memory, maybe as a presence that never fully leaves. I like to think that the people we love are nearby in ways we can’t see but sometimes can feel. Years ago, when I was in Newfoundland, I had hypothermia and was evacuated by helicopter to hospital, and I feel like it was my father who saved my life.  I think there was like a tap on my shoulder that kept me from falling asleep and I’ve always attributed it to my dad.  A lot of people wouldn’t have survived, but I did.

    What would you like your eulogy to say?

    She will be remembered for her warm smile, contagious laugh, and unique, spirited personality. She loved her family and friends with her whole heart and always put others first, while learning to be kind to herself as well. She had a gift for seeing the brighter side of life, supporting people when they needed it most, and making those around her feel truly cared for.

  • In Conversation with Michelle Hooton

    I met Michelle Hooton a little over 20 years ago when I accepted an invitation to attend a book club evening at the home of a mutual friend.  We’ve been meeting once a month ever since with a small, stimulating, always surprising set of eclectic readers, opening our homes and our cookbooks, hosting rigorous debate, developing literary discussion points, and reciting deeply meaningful or contentious passages with the power to engage, transform and elevate. Not a bad way to spend some 200 evenings together, sharing meals, and laughter, drinking wine, and exploring a lot more than plot twists, and prose.

    You can learn a great deal about a person after perusing their bookshelves, and far more still, in the way a person approaches a book, what they find meaning in, passages they deem beautiful or poignant, what moves them to tears, what makes them angry, what words they underline to read out loud again later.

    I can tell you that Michelle Hooton is an intelligent and discerning woman, a reflective and respectful reader, less prone to deconstruction, always in earnest, mining an authors’ artwork for the gold within.  She is an immersive reader, with an ear attuned to a well-crafted story, and is often drawn to quieter books, with characters who have earned their place in the narrative, settings that transport the reader, inform, and enhance our experience, and ideally leave us with something to take away, to hold dear.

    If Michelle was a book, she would be a well-researched one. The cover design would be expertly engineered eye candy. The prose would be succinct and distilled.  There would be multiple passages where the reader could pause and rest a while in serene, inspired settings.  The heroine would be original and authentic, a self-made woman who believed in hard work, and her own powerful magic, and the ending would never disappoint.

    Michelle has the kind of confidence that comes from many years of self-reliance and trusting her inner compass. She is charismatic, a polished conversationalist, a flawless hostess, a gifted gardener, a celebrated chef, and an accomplished and award-winning entrepreneur.  An astute businesswoman, she is also a creative, and excels at designing beautiful settings and spaces where her circle of friends and family, may repose in charmingly rendered rooms that inspire and delight, while being treated to her many gifts, not the least of which, is her mastery in the kitchen.  As I sit in her highly photographable home, decked out in her curated Christmas finery, I feel a deep sense of comfort and joy. She tells me it’s her love language. It’s how she expresses her gratitude for you giving her your time.

    Michelle describes herself as a “serial entrepreneur” launching her first business venture at age 17. “Growing up I never heard the words ‘You can’t do it’…it was … ‘How are you going to do it?’ Once I realized that I could steer my own course and succeed, that was it.  I have worked for other people, but I didn’t care for it.  Whoever I worked for, I felt like I gave them my best, but I always operated like I owned the business, and when it got to the point where we were conflicting about the work …that was it…it was time to go”

    In 1982, Michelle opened Body Electric, an aerobic exercise studio in uptown Saint John.  A year later she opened Body Electric Aerobics on Broadway, in NYC, and a year after that, was listed as one of the top studios in Manhattan by the New York Times.

    In 1992, now back in Saint John, she opened The Secret Garden, specializing in fresh and dried florals shipping throughout Canada and the United States. In 1999, Michelle opened Sisters Italian Foods, a small Italian deli and imported food shop located in the City Market. She ran both businesses concurrently, until selling Sisters in 2005 after being elected Deputy Mayor for the City Saint John, serving from 2004-2008.

    Thirty-eight years and five businesses later, Michelle fulfilled a lifelong dream, opening Italian by Night in 2016 with business partners, Elizabeth Rowe and Gord Hewitt. This premier Saint John dining experience has been featured on Open Table’s ‘Most Romantic’ list for Canada for seven consecutive years, Best Italian Restaurants in Canada in 2017 and Top 100 Most Beloved Restaurants in Canada in 2022, accolades based exclusively on guest ratings.

    “My lifelong dream was to create the best Italian restaurant in Atlantic Canada. I don’t believe geography limits one’s ability to produce a world-class product. Achieving this requires intense knowledge, focus, the ability to inspire those around you to share your dream, and the passion and spirit to believe you can do it.”

    Michelle won Entrepreneur of the Year at the Saint John Chambers Outstanding Business Awards in 2024 and her immensely popular food blog Bite by Michelle enjoys a worldwide audience, surpassing 4,500,000 views. Her recipes are hearty and time honoured and easy to follow for even the most recalcitrant cook. They are, each one, small works of art…Michelle’s secret ingredient is love.

    Tell me your life story in seven sentences or less? 

    At a really young age I had experienced great joy and great tragedy. At that young age I chose joy for the rest of my life.  I somehow always had the ability to follow my true north. I trusted my gut, but sometimes my gut feeling was wrong. When I made a mistake, I was never too proud to admit it, and then fix it.  So…on my second try I married the love of my life, raised the three most spectacular women I will ever know, and have built the life of my dreams. I’ve had the great fortune to have been able to turn every passion that I ever had into a way to make a living.  And that’s really the story of my life…that’s it.

    What is the best thing about getting older?

    Clarity.  You just get to that point where you don’t need to see the world as grey anymore because you’ve had so many life experiences. I think people are kidding themselves when they don’t know the difference …when they can’t see whether its’ black or white.  I think it’s safer to live in the grey…and I don’t have any interest in that.

    What is the worst thing about getting older?

    Running out of time. I’m in an industry right now where I am two and a half times older than the national average…and you know there is just so much more to learn, and figure out, and experience and time is not on my side anymore.

    What would you title this chapter of your life?

    Grace. I want to finish this chapter of my life with grace. The life Ralph and I built together has given me a gift—this time to live gracefully and with gratitude. I feel incredibly grateful, constantly. It’s like a prayer, like saying grace before a meal—giving thanks. For me, it’s an internal conversation, a continuous acknowledgment of how grateful I am. And I hope that gratitude shows to the world in a graceful way.

    If you could retain or retrieve one quality from your youth, what would it be?

    The belief in endless possibilities.  It didn’t matter if I made the wrong decision when I was young because I had time…I could fix it …I was always gonna have time until all of a sudden I don’t.

    What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned so far?

    There is no finish line. All my life there was always that imaginary…when I get there…when I do this…when I accomplish that… Once I realized there is no finish line, I was free. Life is wide open. You just keep going. Be open to the universe and whatever else is thrown at you. Just keep going, without that nagging feeling that you’re running towards something.

    Do you have a favourite quote?

    Definitely, and it’s the mantra of my life.  I cross stitched it and framed it and it hung beside the door in my house so the kids would see it every morning on their way to school.

    “Whatsover thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest.” (Ecclesiastes 9:10)

    I’ve lived that way my whole life, in the way I work, and the way I love, the way I garden, the way I cook…everything that is a part of my life… that was just the way I approached it.

    Do you have a favourite word?

    Grammy. I adore my children, and I never thought I could love like that again. But I do—it’s remarkable. Being with my grandchildren is incredible. When I hear them say “Grammy,” my body experiences a molecular shift. No other word gives me that feeling.

    Describe your perfect day.

    I’ve had this day and I hope to have many more of them. Its summertime…I’m at the farm and all of my family are home.  I’m the first one up. I put on the coffee… and start to make breakfast. One by one they slowly start waking up. We have breakfast on the verandah. We drink slow coffee while the girls use ‘all their words’ …thats an expression the girls use when they they tell me everything that’s going on in their lives. We spend the day on the boat. We have a place further upriver where we like to swim…its magical. I take a picnic with Prosecco, some beer, and all sorts of treats. We’ll stay there until 5 or 6 o’clock and then it’s back to the farm. We get supper ready. My mom and dad will join us. We’ll dine on the veranda under  candle light. We graze until 10 or 11 o’clock at night.  We finish off by the fire table.  Yawns start and we all go to bed, and it is a perfect day.

    If you could have tea with anyone, real or fictional, dead, or alive, who would it be and what would you talk about?

    So, I took some political license here.  If I could do that, I would come back many decades from now and have tea with my elderly grandchildren and we would talk about their lives, and all the things I’ll miss.

    Tell me three things that bring you joy.

    The people I love.  Creating beauty.  And anticipating…anticipating Christmas, anticipating family coming home…anticipating what we’re going to do next… I love it.

    Name a guilty pleasure.

    Dairy Queen. The first time that I ever tasted it, it was like a taste explosion…I couldn’t believe something could taste that good. and I’ve never lost that love of it. You could put the most fabulous European dessert on the table and a peanut buster parfait, and I guarantee you I’m gonna take the peanut buster parfait every time. It’s a special little treat and I usually have it alone.

    Do you believe in life after death? What does it look like?

    I guess it depends on how you characterize life. I believe that we have an inextinguishable life force and I believe that life force carries on after our physical bodies expire.  I’d like to think that my life force will find its way into future generations of my family.

    What would you like your eulogy to say?

    Life was not a dress rehearsal for her.  She lived her life like it was the opening night of the greatest performance she had the honour of playing.

  • The Richness of Retreat

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    “Silence is also a conversation” – Ramana Maharshi

    “Be a loner. That gives you time to wonder, to search for the truth.” – Albert Einstein

    I have never lived alone, and at 59 and a half, I can count on one hand the number of nights I’ve spent alone in my home.  So, when my daughter announced that she was off to Australia for a fortnight, and asked if I might cat sit, I decided to embark on a private retreat of my own, a silent, mind-spa staycation, an experiment in the single life, an escape to a ‘room of one’s own’. The setting was LOLIW perfect… posh, urban, ceilings to God, a spiral staircased brownstone apartment in the heritage quarter, the dream home of a much younger version of myself.  The street was Orange, the mood, indigo, and the first song I danced to, with abandon, in far too many years, was Yellow.

    I have always shared living space with close friends or loved ones.  I have never experienced the kind of solitude and silence that singletons exalt in daily, the bliss of soundless mornings, the peace of uninterrupted afternoons, the effortless, evening meal for one, or the coveted hours spent in one’s own sweet company, time whiled away without reference to the wishes or inclinations of another living soul. To keep one’s own good counsel and consult no one else (save an agreeable cat with excellent manners and clear boundaries) on how best to spend the day…what a gift to give yourself, perhaps most especially as a little old lady in waiting. There is a magic to be mined, an enchantment, a real richness of experience to be savoured in retreat. 

    As with any adventure, I overthought and planned every minute detail down to the quick. I packed separate bags for the gym, for work, and for pickleball. I made sure to include enough loungewear and smalls to avoid even the notion of laundry, and a series of comfy sweaters and toasty wool socks, as you do, unfamiliar with the heating in my new abode, a Canadian girl down to  my bones. One can’t be too careful when it comes to creature comforts.  I prepared and packaged enough food to last me about ten days, individually portioned, so I wouldn’t be troubled with cooking or cleaning dishes during my retreat.  I planned to supplement my defrostables with a few evenings of restaurant meals, I was on vacation after all…there were friends to be met, and those naan nachos from Thandi’s are a siren call that cannot be ignored.

    My car was already packed the morning I set off to drive my daughter to the airport. I kissed my husband and hugged my son and small geriatric dog goodbye.  A little old lady herself, I had a quick word and cuddle with my last true dependent.  I let her know it was alright if she had an accident or two in my absence, as the menfolk aren’t as attuned to her bathrooming pecadillos, an easy concession as I wouldn’t be there to look after any mess.  I wished her well and promised to make it up to her.  We settled on half my breakfast bacon for a period no shorter than one year, and a promise that she could come away with me next time.  Oh yes, spoiler alert, there will be a next time.

    After imparting a steady stream of last-minute motherly advice to my savvy, world travelling daughter, advice she did not need, but tolerated as best she could, I watched my baby pass through security, before discarding whatever illusion of control I still harboured, and then, mentally slipping off my mother cape, a favourite cloak, I turned with a little tear in my eye, before going dark, the start of a full-blown smile forming on my lips. I was a stranger in a strange land, alive to the endless opportunities that waited for me. I decided on a quick stop to Costco (I mean …I was in the neighbourhood) for a few emergency supplies…ready made bacon, the Christmas fruitcake (singletons host friends too) and then it was straight back to the little uptown palace I would call home for the next two weeks, party of one.

    I made my escape in mid-November, an excellent time of year for retreat, just at the onset of the introspective months of the Canadian winter, but before the circus of Christmas pageantry that engulfs most matriarchs in December and doesn’t let go until after New Year’s day. For the first few days I sat in a kind of meditative slumber, wonderstruck by the tidied rooms, the luxurious silence, the fragrance of aloneness, the cadence of a single set of steps. I floated from room to room, I listened to the voice of a girl set free from a set of inherited instructions for living, a voice that spoke softly at first, but eventually commanded my entire attention. 

    Most of what she told me is private of course, you understand, what happens on Orange stays on Orange, and anyway it would probably be lost in translation.  I can share that I never once felt lonely during my retreat, that it took several days to miss the loved ones I live with, and if there were any monsters under the bed I slept in alone at night, they kept to their dark recesses and didn’t intrude on my peace. Suffice to say, I was away long enough to remember that there is no better counsel than your own, there is no truer friend than yourself, and if you’ve been neglecting that friendship, then it is time to take yourself away for a long overdue conversation, the kind where you listen more than you speak. Our words can physically influence the world around us, most especially the words we recite incessantly to ourselves silently, in a closed circuit.  The truth is that every cell in our body is listening to us, which makes the quality of the interior dialogue so critical. Do we settle for questions like, “what’s for dinner?” or even “where to travel next year?”  or do we ask ourselves how we might best build joy today? Or “what exactly Elliot meant when he wrote, “I grow old…I grow old…I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. Shall I part my hair behind?  Do I dare eat a peach?’

    If you, like me, prefer Elliot’s poetry to a cookbook, these are the essential rules of retreat. There must be quiet. Your mind must be calm and unleashed from the concerns and demands of those closest to you.  So much of our action in life is economically or socially determined. Even love can feel like a Chinese finger trap some days. As we get older the claims of our immediate environment, our preferred living arrangement, can be so pervasive that we can actually lose sight of ourself in the family photograph, beneath the Wifee sweatshirt, behind the sacred veil of motherhood, to the woman who waits within like a nested Russian doll. We can become so consumed with what we perceive as the requirements of daily living; nutritious meals, a tidy home, daily exercise, the social scene, that we forget ourselves and our real work, discovering and exploring the beauty and mystery that lies within.

    Finding a quiet place to stoke your inner fire is an essential and sacred ritual, an absolute necessity for every little old lady in waiting. If you can’t get away for a dedicated retreat, then lay claim to a certain hour every day, a space of time inviolate to family or friends, where the news of the world cannot reach you, and where you do not recognize or acknowledge what is owed to others.  A space where you are free to simply experience who you are, and what you might be, a place of creative incubation, a venue to challenge your everyday assumptions, to grow, to follow the winds of your own inclinations, to feel your courage, and to care for yourself, like the treasure you are.

    At first it may feel like you’re wasting time.  If that is your experience, at least initially, I would encourage you to hold fast, it is, after all, your time to waste. We have a limited lease of time apportioned to each of us, and whether you spend that time truly awake or asleep in the detritus of daily living is entirely up to you.  Life has no pause button or rewind setting.  If you read this blog post all the way to then end, each of us is 5 minutes closer to our demise than when you started.  If you can stay present to this moment, if you can be here now, and genuinely engaged in pursuits that bring you joy, then you know the secret to a beautiful life. So often we become embroiled in activities we do not relish and have not chosen for ourselves but believe are required of us.   Fresh from my retreat I have begun to question everything I habitually tell myself needs doing. I engage in small acts of rebellion as often as possible.  I eat cereal for dinner some nights, my bed often goes unmade, sometimes I skip the gym to write or read …there is a feathery owl atop my Christmas tree this year, slightly askew, and it has never looked more beautiful to me.  I hold space for myself to wonder and to consider questions outside the realm of my daily routine. “Do I dare eat a peach?”

    It’s true that to create a pleasant and harmonious environment in our lives together with loved ones we need the cooperation of all those we choose to hold close in our immediate circle, but pleasure carried within ourselves, within our own body and mind, and within that part of ourselves that has no name, that is our business alone. This dark season of early nights and twinkling lights, I wish for you a happy retreat…I invite you to cast your eyes to the wintry sky, to stand alone sometimes, to “look at the stars and see how they shine for you.”

  • The Little Old Lady…in waiting sits down with Ottawa podcaster Trudy Chapman

    The Little Old Lady…in waiting sits down with Ottawa podcaster Trudy Chapman

    https://meanderings-with-trudy.simplecast.com/episodes/meander-with-sylvie-fitzgerald

  • In Conversation with Kate Elman Wilcott

    I first met Kate in the home of a mutual friend a few days before our first-born sons, both redheads, set off on a grand adventure, the public school system. I remember we talked about phonics and kindergarten teachers, A Mrs. Fox, and a Ms. Roach, aptly named for the wild animal tamers they turned out to be.  ‘Let the Wild Rumpus’ take a seat…at least until recess.  While the boys toiled at school, we packed up our preschoolers and headed out to each other’s homes, together with a few other like-minded women, and while the littles mingled, we formed a small wolf pack of our own.  We called ourselves the Coffee Mommies, but don’t let the name fool you…there was enough intellectual energy and collective sweat equity sat around those suburban kitchen tables to take over the world, and still be home in time to help with homework.

    I learned a lot about Kate Elman Wilcott during those years. I can tell you that she is a builder.  After earning a degree in Theatre from Dalhousie University, Kate spent the 90’s in Halifax, returning to Saint John in 2001, where she continued to build and expand on an eclectic teaching career in theatre, notably through her very successful not-for-profit venture, Interaction, a children’s theatre.

    Kate has built innumerable theatre sets, and produced countless theatrical productions, while simultaneously engineering a thriving playground for the arts in our city, principally for the youngest members of our community, and in doing so, has helped to build confidence, self-esteem, empathy, and a lifelong appreciation of the arts in a cohort of young minds.

    “Training in the arts is so good for kids.  If you just focus on the people you’re working with and build a strong group dynamic, creating a safe space where people can take risks and figure out what works and what doesn’t… if you just focus on that process, then the product is guaranteed to be great.  At the same time, you’re always working to deadline…the curtain must go up.  I was very much conditioned to work to that deadline because at 7 o’clock on a Friday night at the Imperial Theatre with 600 people in the audience, the show must go on. That’s great training for any career.” 

    As the former Arts and Culture Coordinator for the City of Saint John, and a recognized leader in community development within the region, Kate has worked as a teaching artist, producer, facilitator, collaborator, and director. Her professional and volunteer experience includes policy development, university lecturer, developing public safety protocols, organizing community events, fundraising, and even touring with Symphony New Brunswick. She has performed in an award-winning film, played the bass, trumpet, piano, drums, and guitar in a series of bands, and was named a YWCA Woman of Distinction.  She sits on the Harbour Lights Board and is currently at work writing a series of stories based on anecdotes from her studios.

    Presently serving as our Member of Legislature for Saint John West Lancaster, Kate is at the helm of a very busy constituency and is out working hard most days to build a better province for all of us to enjoy.  At an age when her peers are winding down and looking to divest responsibility, Kate, with her deep-rooted work ethic and sturdy moral compass, is taking on a greater community role, exemplifying the credo of a favourite literary detective, “Everybody counts, or nobody counts.” Kate is an honourable human being, a neighbour you can count on…the kind you want to run for office and represent you, to sift through the politics of competing interests, to search for solutions, and build a better world where we can all belong.  She has my respect, she has my friendship, and she will always have my vote.

    Tell me your life story in seven sentences or less? 

    Ok… so, let’s go backwards for the origin story. I’m the MLA for Saint John West-Lancaster and have served in this role for just over a year, and prior to that I was the Arts and Culture Coordinator for the City of Saint John. For 18 years I ran a non-profit arts organization that focused on community development through the arts, which I founded in 2001 when I moved back to Saint John from Nova Scotia. During those years I also raised my two children and a couple thousand more that I worked with in my studios and in schools throughout southern New Brunswick. I spent the 90s in Halifax, studying and working at Dalhousie University, and professional theatres and schools across the province; that’s also when I met my favourite person in the world who’s been by my side since 1992…that’s my husband, Mike.  And before that I was a west side kid who loved to climb trees, and swim at Dominion Park, and play music, and act in plays, and play sports. For the first two weeks of my life, I lived at 53 Elliott Row, before the Elmans moved to the west side, where I’ve lived ever since.

    What is the best thing about getting older?

    Ok so when I was young, you’re often focused on getting to move on to the next phase of life…so middle school to high school, or graduation from university to the career world. But when I hit 50, I realized that the best part of life is who I am right now. It changes… I change each day with new experiences, but I enjoy being the age I am now, and while I know that I have opportunities ahead of me, I also know each day is to be savoured. And by savoured, I mean we have work to do, and we have to get it done. I fully feel with every ounce of my being that we’re here to serve and make the world better for each other, whether it’s through charity, or making people feel they belong, or nurturing, or entertaining, or problem solving. It’s our legacy and our purpose. I also embarrass far less than I did as a younger woman, and I like that.

    What is the worst thing about getting older?

    The little physical things I guess, that remind you that you’ve lived a good life. The aches and pains remind us that we’re still here…some of them I wish I didn’t have. My dad is 94, his sister and brother-in-law are 92 and 93, and they have such amazing humour and chutzpah…a certain mindset. I can only hope to be as blessed.

    One of the absolute worst things about getting older are the targeted ads on social media. The algorithms that think I really want to do chair yoga, or buy progressive lenses, and I really want to lose 30 pounds this month, or help my daughter raise her 13 kids on the farm. It’s insulting.

    What would you title this chapter of your life?

    GSD (Get Shit Done)

    If you could retain or retrieve one quality from your youth, what would it be?

    The boundless energy and time. I like to think I have managed to hang on to the inner workings of youth. Maybe it’s because I spent so many years playing with young people as my career, or maybe it’s because age…ahem maturity, never seemed like a good enough reason to stop playing, and that’s probably because my coworkers were teenagers for many years and that was very nourishing. I’ve never given aging a lot of thought … it was never something I placed above being genuine and kind…or just being myself.   My grandmother lived to 94 and she lived with us in her 90’s, and I remember in my 20’s shooting baskets in the driveway and she would come out and shoot baskets with me and to me that was normal.   My mom who died at aged 84 was doing yoga until the very end and had a chin up bar in her closet.  I think I’ve managed to hang on to the playfulness of youth, because that’s how I was raised and that’s the perspective I have, but it’s the time and energy that is imbalanced.  I think of my father, a mischievous charismatic prankster at 94. I guess we never appreciate what we have now, comparing ourselves to our 20-year-old selves, but why?  Sure thirty-five-year-olds have it good, but they don’t realize they have it good.

    What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned so far?

    Oh, this was a hard one.  Living a public life brings with it so much, but at the end of the day just knowing that you were honest and true and worked damn hard, is the greatest way to fall asleep. That’s not a lesson I needed to learn myself but one I need to remind myself of when the work gets hard to turn off. I wore the weight of a lot of little people’s lives and their turmoils for decades, and later as a municipal worker with a portfolio working with various demographics and files, and now the lives of constituents and people all the over the province. There will always be buzz and easy trolling comments flying around, but I know I’m solid with people close to me who are good, kind, and honest. And people can disappoint you, but that’s on them more than it’s on you. At the end of the day, we have our own truth and I sleep well at night.

    Do you have a favourite quote?

    It’s a quote by Viola Spolin, who was the premiere leader in the modern improv world, Spolin was a large influence on my approach to creating with others, and I still use her ideas today.

    “Through spontaneity we are re-formed into ourselves. It creates an explosion that for the moment frees us from handed-down frames of reference, memory choked with old facts and information and undigested theories and techniques of other people’s findings. Spontaneity is the moment of personal freedom when we are faced with reality, and see it, explore it and act accordingly. In this reality the bits and pieces of ourselves function as an organic whole. It is the time of discovery, of experiencing, of creative expression.”

    I spent almost 30 years teaching and directing in studios and rehearsal halls, and the majority of that time was focused on play and intuition. I also used this theory to work in non-theatre environments such as corporate groups that needed a refresher on group dynamics, or classrooms, and community groups. Sometimes a person can get so bogged down on “the way it’s always been done” or “the end goal has to be…” or “they just don’t behave the way I want them to…” and this mindset of comfort can prevent progress or reaching the goal.

    Do you have a favourite word?

    ‘Yes.  Well, I have far too many favourite words but a word I use a lot is a Yiddish word, chutzpah. Chutzpah doesn’t just mean character, charisma or moxy…it’s very nuanced, like a lot of Yiddish words.  You know it when you see it. Sometimes it can mean a little mischievous, sometimes it can be a bit darker, but it’s always said in a positive way. My dad and his friends at The Villa… they have a lot of chutzpah.’  I ask Kate if she has chutzpah.  She smiles in a reflective, playful way and says, ‘yes, I have chutzpah, and I can up the chutzpah ante when needed.’

    Describe your perfect day.

    Well, I thought it was last Thanksgiving Sunday and then I stepped on a nest of yellow jacket hornets… but really it was a beautiful day.  We brought our Thanksgiving dinner up to the cottage.  I think everybody was at peace that day…until the peace was dispatched by the yellow jackets.  A perfect day for me is a day surrounded by the people I love; walking along city streets and popping into good coffee shops or a pub; being in a studio and creating with people; playing in the woods; learning; great conversations; time spent with my children; and a great meal made by Mike, which is every day.  

    If you could have tea with anyone, real or fictional, dead, or alive, who would it be and what would you talk about?

    Well, first of all, I wouldn’t have tea, I think I’d like to host a dinner party…Mike would cook. There’s a great play called Top Girls by Carol Churchill, and the second half of the play is a dinner party with all sorts of more obscure famous chicks: Pope Joan, Dull Gret, Isabella Bird, Lady Niko…I saw the play when I was 22, it was staged when I was at Dal, and I have often pondered who I’d invite over the years. I prefer a feisty dinner party to a quaint tea. 

    I would absolutely love to spend time with my mom, and my mother-in-law who passed away in August, both of whom still had so many stories to tell, and my grandmothers as well… I would love to be able to talk to them at this point in my life. My mother had me when she was 43 and she passed when I was 40 so I didn’t get to experience that relationship as a more tenured woman.  I would love to share some of my more recent life events with her.  Both of my grandmothers were kick-ass women who quietly but boldly broke the glass ceilings of the early 20th century in their own ways. My paternal grandmother was one of the first women to drive in Saint John, and my mom’s mom ran a business. 

    You know there is a great photo wall in Fredericton in Chancery Place of all the female MLAs who served in New Brunswick, some living, and some passed… I’d like to invite a few of the pioneer female MLA’s as well, and at the head of the table I would seat our current premier, Susan Holt.

    Tell me three things that bring you joy.

    Hearing people laugh.  I like following the lives of the kids that I’ve worked with over the last 35 years, seeing them grow, and following their adventures as adults.  I’m also extremely happy organizing something in the community and then standing back and seeing people connect and find their joy…that brings me joy.

    I absolutely love the camaraderie my little family has. We don’t have much time together lately but those stolen 48 hours when there’s a weekend visit or a stopover are the absolute best.

    Name a guilty pleasure.

    I don’t think I feel guilty about anything, but I do enjoy taking naps during movies and a cozy night in…they are few and far between these days.

    Do you believe in life after death? What does it look like?

    I believe that we stick around through the energy and work that we do while we’re here. It’s like we are little ripples in time. I know that there are people who came before us, either blood relatives or mentors who are living on in the work I do, in lessons I’ve passed along to children who are now teachers and parents, so if that is living on after we die then yes, there is a life after death. It’s a very agnostic way of looking at things, and I also think it’s important to focus on the here and now. 

    What would you like your eulogy to say?

    Oh, I couldn’t possibly start with a eulogy…it’ll be a long party.  But the epitaph would probably read “….and curtain” which can signify the end or the beginning.  The curtain opens and closes the play.

    Authors note:

    I have included an additional question to the LOLIW interview this session: What would you title this chapter of your life?  I was curious how previous interviewees might answer as well…so I asked them.

    Sr. Rhona Gulliver

    “Wisdom, Wit, and Woolies”

    Dr. Margaret Anne Smith

    “The Intentional Years”

    (Iwona) Maria Kubacki

    “Ch-Ch-Changes”

    Margo Beckwith Byrne

    “Coming Full Circle”

    Shova Rani Dhar

    “Renaissance”

    Jan Lucy

    “Revival”

  • Solvitur Ambulando…It Is Solved by Walking

    “Walking, I am listening to a deeper way. Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands.” – Linda Hogan (Native American writer )

    “‘But it isn’t easy ‘ said Pooh. ‘Poetry and hums arent things which you get, they’re things that get you. And all you can do is go where they can find you.’”- A.A. Milne

    If I’ve ever invited you on a walk then there is a fair chance you’re someone I love very much…family, and a handful of friends I keep close, like “a cloak, to mind (my) life.”(O’Donahue) I don’t walk, as our ancestors once did, to arrive at a particular destination, nor can I honestly say that I walk to safeguard my health, although, as a nurse, I know it to be powerful medicine, and an essential practice in the Little old lady in waiting’s handbook on how best to live a long and healthy life.  For me, walking is a sacred sojourn, like writing in a journal, or sitting down for a cup of tea on a busy day to savour a last bit of cake; it is a solitary ritual, a reflective exercise, a rich, sensual, fortifying experience, that grounds me in the present moment, and reveals a deeper way of looking, illuminating a world just beyond what our sedentary eyes can capture. Walking is a portal to the natural world where time may stand still, where we may even disappear for a while, as our unconscious unfurls, and insights and creative leaps lay waiting on well-trod paths like so many flowers to be gathered, an endless bouquet of ideas and dreams waiting to be revealed and rehomed.

    I have always believed a regular walking regime to be a salve for most of life’s ailments.  All those feel-good neurotransmitters dormant and eager for activation. I won’t bore you with the overly marketed health benefits…well, maybe just a quick review. Just as the doctors have always preached, walking, even a little, can significantly increase your lifespan, and reduce your biological age (marginally more appealing to the chronologically disadvantaged).  Walking also lowers your risk of cardiovascular disease, diabetes, and depression.  If that’s not enough to persuade you, there is also statistically significant evidence that walking lowers your stress level and reduces rumination and negative thinking.  Wait… I mean I’m down with the stress management, but I’m kind of trauma bonded with the rumination and negative thinking, that’s half my material.  Whatever…you get the idea…the health zealots are spot on, walking is good for you, body, and mind…but when has that ever been sufficient incentive to lace up, or drop the fork, if you see what I mean…again with the negative thinking and rumination. Let’s try again. Little old lady in waiting to little old lady in waiting, post-menopausal women who walk 4 hours a week have a 41% lower risk of hip fracture.  I like that. That’s positive…right?  I’m not sure where they get these exact numbers but I found it on my socials so it must be true. 

    Health considerations aside, here is what I know about walking from my own clinical trials, population of one.  No matter the setting for my walk: be it the sleepy, maturely tree’d, largely childless suburb that I call home, or any of the woodland parks scattered liberally in our beautiful picture province, or possibly the sea paths that wind along the miles of coastland in our stunning port city, nestled on the Bay of Fundy, or even a streetscape in the heritage block of Canada’s oldest incorporated city; a walk out of doors is a way through the wardrobe to a bountiful sensual world, where a steady stream of eye candy and auditory enchantments remind us to embrace the wild animal within, an invitation to howl for all the little old ladies in waiting, sat at home disguised  in grandma’s clothes, both figuratively, and literally some days.  We are meant to move our bodies, we our built to explore on foot, our ancestors walking ten times the distances we typically cover today. 

    Outside, in the natural world I am routinely transported by the startling beauty of the Disneyesque birds that sing in choirs on my quiet street, their sweet sad tunes in perfect pitch; or the spiral dance of autumnal leaves twirling upward as though commanded by the invisible hand of some ancient sorceress, reciting a spell to safeguard the woodland wildlife from winter on its way.  I hope she remembers to include me and mine in her magic. The animals nearby have a narrative all their own as they go about their daily errands and I nod to them when we meet: the black-sheep squirrel who lives in the tree at the front of my house, alone and happy to be so, or the family of deer who eat from my neighbours unpicked apple tree, heavy with fruit. I met, by chance, a beautiful fox not long ago, but neither of us had time to stop.

    Near the sea, I always envision I am walking with my dead relatives and even imagine I can hear their whispers in the wind and on the waves.  Walking in the woods, the air is perfumed with spruce and pine and something more elusive that smells like childhood and brings me back to a more innocent age, when the scariest monster I could imagine lived under my bed, not some beast who throws Gatsby themed balls, an evil, self-proclaimed king whose every soundbite is some variation of “let them eat cake.”  In the woods, while I’m walking at least, the king is dead…long live all the wild beings who walk this beautiful planet in peace.

    Saunter, stroll, scuttle, scale or stride,  I walk faithfully, alone, into the halcyon summer breeze of fresh cut grass and full strength sunny days, or the warm spring rain that bursts gardens into bloom, or my favourite, the crisp autumnal harvest days scented with chimney smoke and alight with golden interior tapestries of life, the window frames of  our neighbours homes in the gloaming, or out into the first snowfall of winter, a crampon crawl up and down frozen streets,  footfalls in virgin snow where I spy the tracks of smaller species, freshly awoken from a winter’s sleep.  Garlanded in cap and scarf, mittened, earmuffed, and balaclava’d, I’m adrift, a snowman flying through the air…la la la la la laaaaa.

    Outside, enveloped by ancient all-knowing trees, or surrounded by heritage architecture older than three little old ladies in waiting counted together, or stood at the thin space adjacent to the sea, there is a clarity of mind to be discovered that cannot be found in a book, or sat safely by the fireside, nor even under the tutelage of a wise seer.  There is a reverie known to the solitary walker (Rousseau), an enlightenment, an illumination, a flow of insights around every corner we turn. One foot in front of the other, there is space to think and puzzle and solve all the vexations visited upon us. Walking costs us nothing but time, no special gear required, only the capacity to listen to the resounding truth of our own intuition, a voice inside that speaks louder in silence, in the quiet found out of doors.

    A walkers’ trail is alive with imagery that invokes tangential lines of poetry and philosophical enquiry.  There is a hum when we walk…a higher frequency, a quiver of ideas and creative sparks. “What will you do with your one wild and precious life?” (Oliver) “I have measured out my life in coffee spoons.” (Elliot) And if while walking we by chance fall awake for a moment, to know this life is only a dream, how do we stay awake long enough to remember we are dreaming? (Wittgenstein). Walking is a whirlwind dance of ideas, a flow, an unconscious current in a deep primordial sea. And the story we rehearse inside ourselves, making up the parts we can’t quite recall, is a conversation I am happy to host most every day.

    I like to walk at a slower pace now, not quite the crawl my geriatric dog prefers, stopping to sniff every few feet, but I’m more interested in exercise for my mind and the quieting or distilling of my thoughts, than I am in exercising my body or protecting my cardiovascular health or even promoting longevity…still, perhaps aging backwards is something to aspire to.

    For me walking is a meditation, “with every step, I arrive.” (Thich Nhat Hahn) I practice slowing down, I come awake and allow time to stretch out before me, like clotheslines where birds gossip with their friends and freshly laundered linens flap their wings.  I see winter bared branches with captured notes and receipts, escaped from recycled bins, adrift in the wind like so many clues. I listen to the sound of my own footsteps and then deeper still to my breath, and my own heartbeat, and the hum that hangs over everything, the sound of the universe, I suspect, like an hourglass set close to a microphone recording the ever-escaping sands of time.

    I have found many treasures on my walks: old coins and worry stones, sea glass and driftwood art, lost letters and grocery lists, emblems of lives lived next to our own, and reminders that we are, none of us, alone.   I have heard the voices of lost loved ones and remembered the thoughts and images of versions of myself long since lost with them.  Walking I have found the answers to problems, big and small, I’ve found perspective, and gratitude, an abiding peace, and a strong feeling of connection with something greater than myself, something capable of conjuring the unspeakable beauty that is all around us, best viewed by foot, moving at your own pace, walking alone, in the natural world.

  • In Conversation with Jan Lucy

    I wasn’t looking for a new friend when I met this captivating woman.  She was waiting for me in what we now refer to as the ‘therapy pool,’ the LOLIW early morning aquacise class at the local YMCA.  A large part of me believes she was sent to me by someone who now ‘walks invisible.’ Jan’s scientific rationalist core would smile at the notion, but there are days when I believe I have her half convinced in the power of a good God Box.  Exquisitely kind, intelligent, politically progressive, community minded, and sea-loving, Jan moved to Saint John from Ontario with her husband, Don, three years ago to be close to the water in retirement. 

    Graduating with a degree in English from the University of Guelph, a proud Guelph ‘Griffin’, excelling in competitive swimming, Jan lived and worked for much of her career as a campus administrator at a satellite campus of Nipissing University in a small Ontario town called Bracebridge, cottage country for the rich and famous including such stars as Stephen Spielberg, Goldie Hawn and Martin Short.  ‘I bumped into Kurt Russell at a bar once,’ she laughs. 

    Born in Picton, Ontario, her early childhood was spent in Germany as her father was a meteorologist seconded to the military. She grew up in Ottawa and met her husband by putting an ad in the Toronto Star classifieds. ‘Where are all the Alan Aldas in the world?’ she wrote.  ‘He was a feminist, he was a humorist, and he was political,’ she explains. She received 44 responses. ‘Don was in my ‘no’ pile,’ she laughs.  ‘It was my girlfriend who pulled out Don’s letter and said, ‘What’s wrong with this guy?‘  So, I wrote to him, and he wrote back and the rest, as they say, is history.’

    After a series of unsuccessful pregnancies and adoption attempts, Jan eventually privately adopted her first child, Vincent, from Brazil.  ‘It was my labour,’ she remembers, describing the painful journey that eventually led to the great joy of bringing home their first son.  ‘When he was 4, I knew I really wanted another child and so it was back to Children’s Aid to begin again. This time it was different. Now we were considered a ‘black family,’ and so it was more a case of how many do you want?  We went to the front of the line and through a progressive adoption process we eventually welcomed our second son, Omar.  I was 39 by the time he arrived, and he was like a kitten climbing the drapes.’

    Since arriving in Saint John three years ago, Jan, socially dexterous, with charming old-world manners, and an earnest desire to connect and give back, has worked with new Canadians helping them navigate and acclimate, she has become an active member of the Saint John Naturalist Society, engaging in  ‘citizen science’. and data collection, and is a member of the Lift Community Choir, singing and supporting local causes. Most days she can be found hiking or bird watching in our beautiful province in the company of her husband, Don, and her LOL dog, Siskin.

    Tell me your life story in seven sentences or less? 

    I grew up the youngest of 3 children in a loving home. I lost my father at aged 14, when he died in a British-European plane crash…no survivors.  I went to the University of Guelph and received a degree in English where I was also a Guelph Griffin, a synchronized swimmer.  I have been married to my husband Don for 38 years, after meeting him through the Toronto Star’s Companions Wanted section. I have 4 children, two stepdaughters and two adopted boys…I like to say they were all born in my heart.  I worked for 20 years as a campus administrator for Nipissing University’s Muskoka campus where I had the best students and faculty to grow along with.  I moved to Saint John three years ago at the age of 64, buying my house online, not knowing what would come next or who I would meet.

    What is the best thing about getting older?

    The best thing…is that I’ve had the opportunity to get older.  So many people don’t. Whether it’s disease or accidents or suicide…and I think maybe it’s because of Vincent (son) being ill… and family member struggles with mental health…this idea that it could end for any of us.  So just to make it this far has been great…I hope I still have many more years, but you don’t know.

    What is the worst thing about getting older?

    Feeling like I’m running out of time…and again maybe it’s because my dad died so suddenly…he was only 46, that I worry about my life being taken away from me before I’m finished doing the things I want to do.  I’ve always been a big list maker and I like to accomplish many things in a day. What’s that old expression, “I want to arrive at the graveside all dishevelled, skid in and say, ‘Wow, what a ride!’ I don’t want to sit in a lazy boy…that’s not my thing.

    If you could retain or retrieve one quality from your youth, what would it be?

    Being more playful, I think.  I grew up with this ‘What will the neighbours think?’ mentality.  So not worrying so much about what’s expected, not worrying if your socks match.  I almost didn’t give my husband a second date because he didn’t put his cutlery together on his plate.  Or when someone is coming over…are there dust balls?  I was more playful as a younger woman.  We stayed outside and played until the streetlights went out.  So, I find if I’m given an opportunity now, I try to be more spontaneous, less wary.

    What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned so far?

    I don’t know who said it to me about your impact on your environment or on the world…that a single drop of water can overflow a cistern or a well… so not to underestimate what your small gesture or your small action can do, positively. So, I try to lift others up…I need to listen more…I know that…but by listening… if others want my advice, to try and provide what is needed. I also know I need that too. So…we all struggle in life, and I guess that’s why I love the pool so much…and why we call it the ‘therapy pool.’ It’s sharing those struggles that helps us remain optimistic and hopeful. And celebrating the high notes too, like when your son asks to speak to your friend on the phone, because he knows she is important to you.

    Do you have a favourite quote?

    “Don’t tell me not to worry, the things I worry about never happen.” (Unknown author). The other thing that my mother used to say all the time that kind of ties in to that is…’this too shall pass.’  And the whole idea that anxiety happens in the past or in the future but not when you are truly here, in the present.

    Do you have a favourite word?

    I do. It’s a made-up word, it’s ‘snigg.” So my mom and my grandmom were very progressive with their use of technology…I think they were probably emailing before I was.  My mom meant to type, after a very sentimental message, the word ‘sniff’…like after a sad story, ‘sniff’.  But typed ‘snigg’ instead.  So we’ve all taken on this accidental word whenever we come across anything sentimental or that touches our heart, we’ll always write ‘snigg,’  And what’s kind of cool is that my son does it now too, so it’s a three generational thing now.

    Describe your perfect day.

    This one was a little more challenging for me, but it has to do with water…being near water, being on it, being in it…that’s where the day starts…with water.  And then learning, I’d like to learn something and whether that’s something I’ve read, something I’ve researched, gone to a lecture or a play, but something that I’ve learned.  And lastly sharing thoughts and time with friends. 

    If you could have tea with anyone, real or fictional, dead, or alive, who would it be and what would you talk about?

    So… I thought about this one and I think it would be my mom’s mom, my grandmother. She was born in 1894. I just thought she was amazing.  She was an equal partner in her marriage to my grandfather who was Professor Emeritus of Botany at the University of Alberta.  She always felt it was important to be an intellectual equal with him and provide him with companionship.  She was pretty educated for her era as well.  She attended Alma College, a liberal arts college, but she also helped my grandfather type and illustrate his work for his PhD. And she raised two amazing, strong women, my aunt and my mother.  One of the stories that sort of exemplifies her is that on her 100th birthday there was a big reunion of family and she remembered everyone’s name, what they did, what their partners did, and asked wonderful questions.  Also, that same year, she was in a nursing home at that time, and she played the Virgin Mary and was on the front page of the Victoria paper wearing her blue scarf and holding a live baby, a little brown baby.  Before she died, there was a picture of her in the pageant by her bed, and her last words to my mother were, ‘I like to look at that picture and imagine I’m holding baby Vincent.’ Snigg.

    Another story is that when she first learned that I was moving in with Don, my grandmother’s response was, ‘Does she have a prenup?’ And then, I have a gay older brother, and it was just at the peak of the AIDS epidemic when he came out and he didn’t know how she would respond, and he went to her apartment and said, ‘am I allowed to come in?’ and she just reached out her arms to him.  So, I would like to have a discussion with her around how she became so wise, beyond her years, when there was homophobia, there was racism, and women were subservient in society…what drew her to be more? What was her thought process?

    Tell me three things that bring you joy.

    Taking some risk..like joining a choir…I mean, not bungee jumping, but I guess maybe moving to New Brunswick. I think sometimes life can be too comfortable. Do you know the story about the lobster?  The whole thing about how a lobster grows…how it has to shed its shell because it’s getting too tight, and becomes very vulnerable because it doesn’t have its hard exoskeleton. It could be dashed against the rocks…but to grow it  has to shed its shell. I always loved that story.

    The other is obviously learning new things. I never thought I would be a bird watcher until I moved here.  I love the fact that we are so multicultural here too because where I used to live it was very white…boring…one dimensional.

    And then helping others…which is a big part of my experience in Africa. It started with my sister probably fifteen years ago or more when she went on her dream vacation to Tanzania, and she met a young safari guide who had dreams of owning his own safari vehicle. She befriended him and helped with a website and referring some clients and creating itineraries for guests.  The guide’s wife was a schoolteacher, but she donated her salary back to their community.  They are incredibly lovely people and wanted to do more for their village. The guide eventually became a village elder and reached out to my sister for some help, initially for water, and then for a school.  They started very small… educating the village children and then as time progressed and climate change was affecting their livestock and food, our family became more involved.

    We ended up doing a sibling safari and as part of that, my brother who is a huge permaculture believer, suggested we might bring in a specialist from Kenya who had some success there, to see if there were possibilities for the village. We thought if they could start a small farm, then they could harvest the fruits and vegetables to feed the school.  They started teaching farming skills in the school and the kids began working with the permaculture and redirecting water runoff, and within 3 months they were feeding the kids at the school. After that some of the mammas started planting as well and the school expanded, and we were able to fund kids who couldn’t afford school fees through the ones who could, and the garden was expanded to 7 acres, and they sold the extra produce.  This all happened over the course of many years but we still talk to the village the first Friday of every month. I asked them once if I could ever be a Maasai chief.  Women don’t traditionally have much position, but I was told, not long ago by that same guide who my sister befriended, ‘Jan, you’ll be happy to know, I have three women on my advisory board now.’ Helping others brings me joy…we’re a ripple in the pond.

    Name a guilty pleasure.

    I try not to feel guilty…but I do. It’s around sweet things, specifically chocolate…really good chocolate. I never feel guilt over a kitkat…I mean going out and spending a fortune on high end truffles, because it’s money for sugar.  I feel like it’s a drug and it seems so silly and petty and something I should just let go of but at the same time, as it provides me with pleasure, why should I feel guilty about it…why don’t I deserve it?

    Do you believe in life after death? What does it look like?

    Ahh…I wish I did. I believe energy leaves me when I pass.  I want to hope there is something … maybe it’s living with a scientist. I don’t think there is, but I’ve also had these things happen…and I can’t explain it …so maybe there is something beyond what we know…but I don’t know what it is.  Is it the pearly gates…I don’t think so.  When I went on my sibling safari with my brother and sister…we were in Kenya and we were sitting at a resort and this man was wandering around singing, and all of a sudden he started singing ‘You Lift Me Up’ by Josh Groban  which was my mother’s funeral song and my brother and sister and I all looked at each other…I mean…in the middle of Africa…a song so meaningful to us all.  So, it’s those kind of things, but at the same time…I don’t know.

    What would you like your eulogy to say?

    I think I would like it to say…and this is a big task but…’She left the world a little better than when she arrived.’

  • In Conversation with Shova Rani Dhar

    Shova Dhar is my oldest friend. We met in third grade.  She was the smartest kid in my class, and in most rooms she enters I suspect.  Becoming her friend changed the trajectory of my life, motivating me to push myself academically in a way I might never have done had we never met.  I can still remember our Grade 3 Health project, a beautifully drawn portrait of a boy skeleton, with breakout close-up drawings for the more intricate bones.   Shova was the artist, I, the lucky bone labeller. We wrote a play together some years later, titled, ‘How do you like your murder, steamed or boiled?’ earning a solid A for our efforts in advanced English.

    Shova describes herself as a ‘gregarious introvert.’ She is, in fact, a peerless, exceptionally gifted human, a scientist and a seer, an artist and a stargazer…there is no one else in all the world like her.  She is an ageless, exotic beauty, and ‘my brilliant friend.’  A biologist by trade, an accomplished artist by nature, and an animal lover (all species), Shova exhibits the kind of charisma that only storybook heroines possess.  Fiercely loyal, generous in spirit, she is a boundless treasure to anyone lucky enough to call her friend.

    Shova earned a BSc in Biology and a Bachelor of Education from UNB. She has published research in marine biology, worked as a lab instructor at UNB, and as a Laboratory manager at the NB Department of Fisheries and Aquaculture. She has studied salmon anemia, virus tested potatoes, and worked in animal health and rabies.  She has been responsible for fish, meat and dairy inspection, food recalls and risk assessment.  For the last twenty-five years she has worked for the Canadian Food Inspection Agency, and for the last 17 years as a food safety specialist, currently residing in Halifax, N.S.  

    Of course, I asked her what she eats, and while she wasn’t comfortable discussing her food choices on the record, she did share that listeria is real, and that as we get older, we can’t fight it off as well, or if we’re too young, or don’t have enough stomach acid, or are pregnant. ‘I’ll be eating a lot of mush that’s hot or frozen as I get older,’ she laughs, ‘and I don’t eat out much as I am too leery of food handling practices that I can’t control.’

    Tell me your life story in seven sentences or less? 

    I was born with mixed heritage in the heat of the summer, the younger sister to one older brother but grew up with my Canadian extended family on my maternal side, as my father was killed in a car accident when I was only 8 months old. I grew up outside of Saint John and was formally educated at the University of New Brunswick.  I am a biologist, an educator, a Food Safety Specialist, a Reiki Master, and a Theta Healer™, with a love of artistic expression, especially the performing arts. As a strong unionist, I have always focused on championing the rights of others who cannot fight for themselves. I have married my best friend, travelled to many countries, enjoyed the company of many beings (human and other species), and have learned to work in light and energy. That’s my other side…the ‘woo-woo side’ as people would say.

    What is the best thing about getting older?

    Ahh…perspective. You can see the bigger picture and therefore there’s less drama about every little hiccup that happens.  Even though there are times I don’t do that, as we age our edges get rounded off a little and you have a better perspective of what life is … you see the span of your own life, and things you used to think were the end of the world are no longer the end of the world for you.  That’s the best thing.

    What is the worst thing about getting older?

    Coping with loss. That’s the thing that gives me anxiety.  Can I do it?  Losing the ones you love, the pets you love, your cohorts, your generation.  The feeling of gradual obsolescence.

    If you could retain or retrieve one quality from your youth, what would it be?

    I found this a very difficult question because there are so many things I would want to retrieve and some I wouldn’t want to, however, the sense of endless possibility, and the feeling of immortality, or ignorance of the finality of this temporary corporeal existence that we’re in right now, is something I would love to experience again.  As younger women we were more present in our lives, we lived more in the moment, we weren’t worried so much about what’s gonna happen when our time was limitless, we weren’t concerned if we could squeeze it all in… we never even thought about all that, we were just living, and I miss that, that spontaneity, being in the moment, a time when we were less reflective and less conscious.

    Now with perspective we’re always weighing one thing against another, whereas younger people are more present in their lives…even if you were full of angst as a young person, you were still anchored in the moment…not worrying about the quality of the experience.  People say youth is wasted on the young.  It’s not. They’re not wasting it…they’re really in it. They don’t even realize how precious it is.  That is the sad part. They don’t yet own their magic…they’re magical but they don’t know it yet.  The magic of being fully immersed in living.  If we were able to go back in time, we would be super powerful, and we could use that power for good or ill.  I would hope we would use all that energy and power of youth for good, but it depends on the trappings of the soul.  People are still flawed even armed with perspective.  Maybe that’s why we can’t go back.  God is pretty smart.

    What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned so far?

    I don’t know, I haven’t learned too many easy ones.  I have so many lessons to learn.  For me, so far, forgiveness is the big one …forgiveness and gratitude. Forgiveness of yourself and others.  It’s hard to do that. But gratitude is huge as well…to learn how to maintain gratitude…because you cannot be unhappy and feel gratitude at the same time. Those two emotions cannot exist at the same time.  That has changed my life knowing that.  So, whenever I’m terribly unhappy, I imagine a scenario, even if I have to invent one, a scenario where I feel grateful.  I’ll share my go to scenario with you.  I imagine I’m carrying a big armful of priceless china in boxes, not very well packaged, and I have to get through a door, and I can’t manage it without maybe dropping a parcel.  There is a guy on the other side of a busy street, he sees me struggling…he crosses the busy street, arrives at my side, and opens the door for me and I can enter in and I think ‘Thank you,’ and I feel gratitude washing over me…gratitude for him being so kind, and then I go through the door.  And at that moment if I’m unhappy I allow the gratitude from the scenario to wash over me and it helps…small acts of kindness, real or imagined, help a lot.  I use it all the time. The shift is immediate when you feel that gratitude wash over you and the sadness may come back but its less when you can feel gratitude.   It brings instant perspective.

    Other lessons I’m still trying to learn are trust, to trust in God, and to accept the things that I cannot change.  Those are hard lessons that I’m still trying to learn.  Forgiveness…I’ve worked hard on forgiveness… and I’m getting better at it.  I used to be full of resentful thoughts. I’m a very protective person of the people I love. I’m a grudge holder from way back.

    Do you have a favourite quote?

    I have four quotes on two themes.  I couldn’t pick.  First, ‘Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it; boldness has genius, power and magic in it.’ And I put in brackets…this is not part of the quote, Begin it now,’ because I’m a procrastinator.  I had it in my university dorm room, its Goethe, and it has served me for many, many years.  A second quote on the same theme is from the Ghost of Christmas Present (Dickens), ‘There is never enough time to do or say all the things that we would wish.  The thing is to try to do as much as you can in the time that you have. Remember Scrooge, time is short and suddenly, you’re not here anymore.’  I always think, let’s not procrastinate with the important things.

    The second theme is again from Scrooge, the 1970’s soundtrack from Leslie Bricusse on happiness.  ‘Happiness is whatever you want it to be.’  I had that at my wedding as one of my songs. And finally, a quote by Kurt Vonnegut, ‘If this isn’t nice, then I don’t know what is.” It’s a quote I learned from my husband, and when I hear his voice in my mind saying it, it calms me down and gives me perspective and makes me feel gratitude.

    Do you have a favourite word?

    ‘Justice’ and ‘perseverance’. I have two, but I love justice, just the sound of it, it’s a sweet sound to my ear.  It’s a real part of who I am, and it always has been.  I’ve always been a bully fighter in school, a fierce advocate for others…and courage is there because of it.  It takes courage to fight for justice.  In tarot, the symbol for strength is a lion and, being a Leo, I’ve always felt it was just part of who I am. It takes strength to fight for justice.  And ‘perseverance’, it’s a very important word for me as well.  You have to persevere…things aren’t instant, and you have to keep fighting for the things that really count.  You have to persevere against your own weakest nature. If you want to obtain things you have to work hard and again that comes back to my quote, ‘begin it now.’ When things aren’t easy you have to persevere and if you don’t, you’re giving up on yourself.

    Describe your perfect day.

    This was harder than I thought it would be, but I experienced the perfect day not that long ago with my family…this summer actually, and I reflected on that day when I formulated my answer.  The day starts with me waking up from a restful sleep and with good energy.  There are some planned activities but nothing stressful.  A nice morning stretch…I move my joints…I have a good breakfast.  I spend time with the ones I love, and unexpected events lead to unanticipated fun.  There is the sense of surprise, camaraderie and sharing laughter.  The unexpected events put you in the present.  I don’t always want to be planning and then judging whether or not things went well…it harkens back to the youthful joy of just being alive.  And after camaraderie and laughter, then you come back to your place of peace and revisit the day’s events together with your family.  You retell the story of the day, sharing your impressions, enjoying it all a second time in the telling…and then you go to bed feeling grateful knowing you’re loved and that you’ve loved others.  That’s a perfect day. 

    If you could have tea with anyone, real or fictional, dead, or alive, who would it be and what would you talk about?

    I would want to see my father.  I would want to talk to him about his decision to agree to leave this life when he was only 38. He died in a car accident. But I believe that people talk to their creator before beginning a new life, we choose our soul family and choose the lessons that we want to learn.  Maybe my lesson this time around was learning to be a woman who grows up without a father. His absence in my life has been so huge and yet I never really got to know him. At some point he decided he would come here and be my father and leave, allowing me the space to learn the lesson I had chosen. I’d like to speak with him about his decision and ask why he left me…because I know he loved me.

    Just recently I looked at my father’s passport picture and I feel like I saw him for the first time, and I’ve looked at that picture a thousand times, and I realized that he is in many ways still here with me.

    The other person I’d like to have tea with would be Carl Sagan.  I’d like to talk to him about intelligent design.  I’d like to explore his thoughts on that.  I had the hugest crush on him, I was in love with him for so long.

    Tell me three things that bring you joy.

    Creating things… creating things for others to enjoy, and myself.  Anything from food, a good meal, making baklava, or creating a more fair, stable, and safe workplace. I do a lot of   Occupational Health and Safety (OSH)…that’s near and dear to me.  I also like making music…learning a new piano piece or improving my vocal range while I’m singing in the car.  Nobody needs to hear it, but I get great joy when I manage to expand my range and enjoy little successes.  Artwork of course, I like creating art, that gives me a lot of joy.  I don’t do it a lot anymore, but I will again… soon.  I’ve been doing some needle felting and making some 3d figures and those are fun little projects and after making art I always think that was so much fun, why don’t I do this more often.  And maybe writing too because this project and thinking about my mother’s story…I think I’d like to delve a little deeper into that.  I’d like to work more in watercolour, I have to persevere there, watercolour is unpredictable, and trust is not there, so learning to trust the process and persevering… and then revel in the outcome, whether it’s what you planned or not.

    A second source of joy for me is being the presence of or caring for animals, especially baby critters of any sort.  To have a kitten in your hand, and care for it is the most joyful thing. Looking after the young of any species I find very joyful.   We have an unofficial office cat named Spooky and I enjoy looking after her right now.  She is my therapy cat.  We do a daily session before I enter the office.

    My third joy is stargazing.  I look forward every year to watching the Perseids meteor showers that peak on my birthday in August. I usually go out to the cottage and lie on the beach or in a field near Freeman Patterson’s place at Shamper’s Bluff to watch them.  I watch as well for lunar and solar eclipses, and, of course, the aurora borealis.

    Name a guilty pleasure.

    Again, I found this question difficult because I don’t feel guilty about too many things except for maybe online shopping and surfing the internet… scrolling, that’s a guilty pleasure that I’d like to get rid of… it’s a bad habit.  It’s wasting your life.  It’s instant pleasure, but it’s a distraction from the real work that we’re here to do. I could be in a studio, where I can make messes.  That’s real pleasure. ‘Boldness is genius.’ We need to stop procrastinating.

    Do you believe in life after death? What does it look like?

    Absolutely. The basis of my belief in God and in an afterlife is from my grandmother. She…as a child had blood poisoning and died and went to another place, a beautiful garden with a man who she described as very much like Jesus, lovely white robes, a gentle man…holding her hand, walking along a path and she was so happy, she had never felt such joy and contentment in her whole life.  They walked for a long time and then he said, ‘Fern, we’ll soon be near the end of this path and when we get there I’ll have a question for you, and I want you to answer honestly. He said, ‘You can stay in the garden with me or if you want you can go and see your mother.’ At that point she looked down from a height and she could see her lifeless body and her mother bending over her, weeping.  And then she said, ‘I think I want to go see my mother,’ and she was returned to her body, and she lived a very long life.  Every day, twice a day, she was on her knees on the hard floor kneeling beside her bed, in the morning and the evening, and she would pray to God and say how grateful she was for being allowed to live.  She lived a life that showed me that what she experienced as a young girl was the truth. The rest of her life was a testament to her decision to return here. She would feed homeless people.  She never knew if that was the man in the garden coming to test her or see if she was still happy to be here. That’s how she lived her life.

    My father grew up in the Hindu tradition and although he never shared that with me, I think it worked its way into my understanding that God is there all the time. We drove across the site where he was killed every day, twice a day my whole childhood life, and we could feel him there.  My brother, a year older, as a child saw his “Daddy” standing at the accident site there once.  

    Finally, through Theta Healing …Theta uses the theta brainwave state, a very relaxed state, where you can access your subconscious beliefs. Part of my training to become a Theta healer involved accessing spirit and listening to what they have to say.  We worked in teams to access spirits we did not know, rooted in our training partner’s life, not our own.  And in your mind’s eye, images reveal themselves with qualities recognizable to the person you’re working with, and you could ask the spirits questions.  Spirit is there.  Our souls continue and come back in other forms…I think all those things are possible.  Obviously, there is continuance of our souls.  Theta experiences have helped me know that.   Sometimes you might worry, ‘am I making this up,’ but sometimes being open, things come to you that you don’t understand but when you share it with the person asking questions, they understand it.  They know what I’m talking about…I don’t…I’m just a vessel, I’m just a process.  The other person is the authenticator.  So yes, I know there is something more, and I don’t fear death.  And when we do die, I don’t think we’ll be very far away.

    What does it look like…the afterlife? A hyper reality where we are totally supported all the time…where we know we are taken care of always.  We are complete there.

    What would you like your eulogy to say?

    How I would like to be remembered…I’d hope someone would say that I was kind, and also that I was fierce, a protector, a good friend, and that I knew how to have fun, that I was fun loving… I’m self-described as a perpetual adolescent…that I was confidant, and had lots of personality.