A Cup Of Courage and a Gallon of Gratitude

I’m usually up early, by three most mornings, and after I post my Facebook greetings, I usually settle down at my dining room table, laptop in front of me, a cup of coffee to my right, and I write.  I start with a little writing practice, ten minutes of free writing, sometimes I do a second round in order to wake-up my mind, and then the hard part begins, trying to write something tangible, something worthy of publishing.  It’s a noble goal but one that I don’t accomplish every day.  On a good day I manage to begin a few stories, or add to my works in progress, on a bad day, I struggle to begin even one story.

My writing time is at a premium, I work full-time, twelve-hour shifts, and I rely on my early morning or afternoon writing time to produce.  My inner critic follows my schedule and tends to intrude on my writing time, urging me to change a sentence, question my use of punctuation, and sometimes demanding that I start again from the beginning, writing is hard work when you have a critical inner editor who’s a boisterous loud mouth, but I persist.  I tackle my inner writing critic the same way I tackle any other problem or situation I face in my life, with a cup of courage and a gallon of gratitude, this recipe tends to serve me well.

Now, courage is not about scaling high mountains or skydiving out of an airplane, it’s about facing fears and problems head on and persisting despite them, it’s about reminding yourself that you will either succeed or learn a valuable lesson.  A cup of courage is all that is usually needed to silence the inner critic, or at least to muffle its voice long enough so that you can carry on.   Sure, things may not go as well as you planned, but they won’t go as bad as you thought either.

Gratitude is the fuel for your courage, the more grateful you are, the more courage you will have.  Be grateful for your life and for every success you have enjoyed.  Be grateful for your gifts and talents, and for the opportunity to face this challenge head on.  Be grateful for this perfect day, for the will to persist, for the willingness to fail, and for the valuable lessons you have learned by trying.  The more gratitude you can muster up, the easier it will be for you to face the current challenge.  Be forewarned that a gallon of gratitude will carry you beyond your current problem and have a positive impact on the rest of your life.

Fill your heart with gratitude, and courage will come.  I haven’t encountered a problem yet which a cup of courage and a gallon of gratitude hasn’t helped me resolve.  Not convinced?  Try it!

Love you all!

Luc

Tipping the Hatred Bandwagon

I made a decision a few years ago that I would eliminate negativity, anger, and hatred from my life, and it’s worked until now, but the world has changed, and anger and hatred now permeate all facets of society.  Friends who have up until now been mostly positive have shifted towards the hatred bandwagon, and I find myself caught in the crossfire.

As a writer, I am a strong proponent of freedom of speech and expression but such freedoms were never meant to be extended to those who propose violence and persecution towards any class of people.  I’ve witnessed people on both sides of the hate debate violate the intent of freedom of speech and expression, and it saddens me that violence has become an acceptable norm on both sides.

I find myself angered by the racial slurs, high level of intolerance, and violent tendencies of the far right, and I know that I must speak out in favor of unity, acceptance, and peace, but I must ensure that when I do, I do so in a way that is congruent with my beliefs.  I must resist all urges to attack those who believe differently than I do, and respond with truth and in the spirit of civility.

I’m not a pacifist, I will fight the war against oppression, but I will not raise my arm against a man’s word, only against his actions.  If I could, I would attend all counter rallies against hatred, and my shouts would echo along with others because what is under attack is our way of life, not freedom of speech or expression.

History, they say is doomed to repeat itself, and I’m afraid we are repeating it now. These are scary times we live in, war is imminent, and fascism is in again.  It’s only just begun, let’s kick its ass before it gains momentum.  And while we’re at it, why not throw in a prayer or two to whatever God, Deity, or Higher Power we believe in, the collective conscience of all has been known to be fruitful.

Hats off to all my relations, we are all relations, who stand up for the collective rights of all people.  I walk with you in your struggle.

Love you all!

Luc

Where the Ghosts Aren’t

I’m strange, I know, but all writers are, aren’t they?  I’m also both envious and desperate, and by now my predicament is sad, sad, sad.  I am staying in a haunted Hotel, the Fort Garry Hotel in Winnipeg, Manitoba, and I was hoping to be able to write about ghostly apparitions and strange occurrences, but the haunting gods have been less than kind to me.  My experiences so far have been peaceful and relaxing while others at the Conference report ghostly happenings.  What’s the matter with these ghosts, why are they discriminating against me?

One of my travelling companions, and several others I might add, have felt a presence climb into bed with them, another saw a white gown hovering around her room, and a friend says his computer turned on in the middle of the night, and they aren’t even staying on the supposedly haunted floor, I am.  There have been recent reports of ghosts in the bathroom, strange knocking in a few rooms, and even a sighting of the ghost who roams the halls, for me, nothing.

I have two nights left in this hotel, and it looks like I’m cursed to spend the next few nights sleeping comfortably in what is probably the only non-haunted room in this hotel, and as a writer in search of adventures to write about, this is totally unacceptable.  I guess I will have to steal other people’s experiences if I want to write about ghosts. 

Seriously, though, the hotel itself is worth the experience, with or without ghosts.  It is old, built in 1913, has a classy feel about it, and I am enjoying my stay here.  I may be disappointed with the ghost situation, but I’ll get over it, and who knows, I may be back again someday to try my luck again.

Love you all!

Luc

Go Ahead and Haunt Me

My life has been a series of adventures with some misadventures thrown in for balance. I’ve been kidnapped, held hostage, chased by a woman with a knife, and accosted by a pervert on the bus.  I’ve lived through death, a car accident, a flood, I have a knack for attracting strangely curious people, and if there’s an adventure around waiting to happen, you can bet that I will attract it.  Most of these incidents end peacefully, and all of them are fodder for future blog posts, or stories, or both.

I usually don’t get advance notice to prepare for these adventures, that’s why my upcoming adventure is so exciting, I can look forward to it.  Tomorrow I start my journey towards Winnipeg, Manitoba, and believe it or not, I am spending a week in a haunted hotel, how thrilling is that.

One block away from its Union Station, the Fort Garry Hotel was built in 1913 by the Grand Funk Pacific Railway and has stately charm but that’s not all it’s got, you guessed it, it has ghosts.  A tragic story indeed, and the ghost of the wife is said to not only haunt room 202 but also to roam the halls in a hooded gown.  There are also accounts of staff seeing blood drip down the walls when entering the notorious room, and of a male apparition at the foot of the bed, and in the dining room.

As the story goes, a young couple checked in to the Fort Garry but never checked out, the husband died in a car accident, or coach accident, depending on which version you read, and the wife, being completely devastated by the death of her husband, hung herself in the closet of room 202.

Folklore? Maybe, but I’m looking forward to finding out for myself, and you can bet there will be a blog post if I encounter either of the ghosts that supposedly haunt the majestic hotel.  I would even welcome a stay in room 202, given the chance, yes, I’m strange like that.  Winnipeg, here I come!

Love you all!

Luc