The Last Jedi

The Last Jedi

I’ve taken 2017 off from writing movie reviews, but The Last Jedi was such an emotional experience that I find myself longing to write about it.

Don’t worry if you haven’t seen it (although you really should go now!) as I don’t do plot spoilers. Don’t listen to the crabby haters online who are moaning about how Episode VIII should be wiped from the Star Wars canon (thank you, internet criticism, for creating a group of angry “fans” who demand a creative product meet their specific demands like it’s SO simple and easy to make a successful blockbuster franchise movie). Go see it for yourself and decide.

The Last Jedi is truly a stunning achievement. It’s packed with all of the action true fans long for, plus a host of witty, silly quips and special moments that linger in your mind long after the final credits roll. But more than that, this instalment gives us even more women as leaders worthy of respect (hooray!) and some deep explorations of complicated and important subjects.

This movie does not shy away from topics like the devastating effects of our rabid fame culture, honest questions about identity and belonging, the punishing personal cost of war, corporate greed ravishing the environment and the ever-widening soul-crushing gap between the wealthy and the poor. I love it when I can sink my teeth into these relevant issues and engage my kids in a lengthy morality debate on the way home from the cinema.

Our world is a broken place. The Last Jedi mirrors much of this sorrow in a relatable yet still entertaining fashion. Luke Skywalker, always my favourite from the original trilogy, is back here but damaged, older and considerably more fearful than we’ve seen him before.

Rey, a hero I adored in The Force Awakens, found Skywalker at the end of Episode VII and is desperate to learn what she can from him. But Master Luke is an unwilling teacher, pushing Rey toward Ben Solo, the tortured son of Han and Leia who has turned to the dark side. This connection between “good” and “evil” moved me deeply, particularly the image of Rey trying to answer the nagging question of who she really is and where she comes from.

Each one of us has the power to write our own story. If we don’t like our past, we possess the ability to change our present so that our future becomes something different. Nothing special is required for this. Only bravery. That’s the central message of The Last Jedi, and it’s one we need desperately at this precarious moment of human history.

Go see this movie. Return to a time when you went to see a cinematic story unfold without a thousand other voices in your head telling you what’s wrong with it. Simply go and be entertained. For me, The Last Jedi is powerful, hopeful, beautiful, stirring, emotional, satisfying. We need peace, purpose and courage to light our path, now more than ever.

May the force be with us, always.

Difficult People

Difficult People

What do you do when people annoy you? We’ve all got someone (count yourself lucky if it’s only one person!) or it’s always possible that we are the difficult people for others to manage.

As we come into the festive holiday season, tensions are sure to rise and situations can become heated in a hurry. This is part of being alive. To be human is to be make mistakes, to deal with mess, to feel irritated by both small and big things that other people do or say.

I’ve been ruminating on the issue of difficult people lately, and thought I would boil down a few of my strategies in case they offer any comfort to others. Here are five ways I handle people who routinely drive me around the bend:

Use Body Language

Words can quickly get us into trouble with confrontational or difficult people, but our body language can speak for us. Try stiffening your shoulders if someone offends you. Raise your eyebrows. Purse your lips. Turn away slightly. If you can, get up and leave the room.

These are all clues to perhaps help the person recognize that you are uncomfortable/pissed off/annoyed. Maybe, just maybe, they will notice and adjust their behaviour.

Set an Example

I always strive to have my own words and actions meet my high standard of conduct – the one I set for other people that they often fail to meet. I can’t do much about others interrupting, shouting, saying inflammatory political or religious statements, allowing their kids to run wild and be disrespectful, etc, but I can do my best to ensure my own behaviour adheres to my moral code and doesn’t violate the social contract that governs our public interactions.

Hold their Dignity Intact

In my presentation on developing emotional resilience, I talk about the goal of holding each person’s dignity front and centre in our interactions. I admit that it’s much easier to do this when the other person is kind, humble and low-maintenance, but it’s a great goal for the difficult, exhausting ones. Even if you grit your teeth and clench your fists, remember that everyone deserves to be treated with dignity.

Find the Positive

This is tricky for me. When someone is irritating the hell out of me, I find it challenging to locate any of their redeeming qualities. But try making a mental list. Does she volunteer for a charity board? Does he help his kid with homework? Everyone has some positive traits, even if you have to dig pretty far to find them.

Cope However you Can

Pour a drink. Listen to music. Eat a delicious slice of apple pie. Step outside and look at the stars for five minutes to regain some perspective. Vent to your private journal. Go hug someone you adore who is pleasant to be around and tell her how much you appreciate her.

Count your blessings and remember that difficult people are all around us, but you are in charge of who you spend your time with. Choose wisely.

Moving Things Forward

Moving Things Forward

Do you ever get overwhelmed at the enormity of tasks in front of you? Try this strategy: Moving Things Forward (or MTF for short if you enjoy acronyms, which I do).

Every day, try to think in terms of moving a project forward. Do one or two things that will help you inch closer to your goal. Over a month and then a year, these little steps add up to large progress.

In my case, when I go a day without writing, I usually go to bed feeling ticked off that I didn’t get any words down. Even when I do sit down to write for an hour or two, often I feel irritated (at best, morose at worst) that I didn’t accomplish more.

But when I sit down at the end of my day and look at all of the areas where I did move things forward, even in small ways, it can add up to much more than I realize. I’ve been using my journal for this purpose, in a type of success tally, and it’s really increased my ability to feel as if I’m accomplishing something on a daily basis.

How about you? What are all the ways you are Moving Things Forward in your life? Break it down into specific categories (family, career, friends, hobbies, leisure, vacation, etc.). Booked a babysitter? A haircut for next week? Sent a friend a text to say you are thinking about her? Browsed vacation possibilities for this summer? Researched something that will help you in your work? Watched an episode of Mindhunter or Stranger Things? (Awesome, you are moving toward finishing these excellent series).

Every one of these are examples of moving things forward. I’m working on thinking smaller with my day-to-day existence. The small things, done well, do eventually add up to become the big things. This also gives me significant breathing room to enjoy my life as its unfolding. Progress, each day, in specific areas will eventually get you where you most want to go.

I’d love to hear a story of how Moving Things Forward is working for you!

Your Little Corner

Your Little Corner

I honestly don’t know what to say anymore. People are being slaughtered weekly with assault rifles in our neighbour to the south and those in power have zero interest in doing anything about it. The president lies, every single day, and on top of that makes racist, misogynist and offensive comments and faces no real consequences for any of it.

My rage is on a slow boil and has been for a long time, but it’s wearing me down. I feel bruised, deep in my soul, and hopeless that nothing is changing. This is not the world I want my kids to grow up in, but I can’t fix these massive problems.

What I can do is focus on my own little corner. You have one too. The people and the pets and the hobbies that you love reside here. You can look after them (and this includes your own beautiful self). You can grow a flower or bake a delicious cake. You can watch a movie or a TV show that helps you escape the horror of the world or gently ushers you toward a fresh outlook. You can read a book that has the power to transform you.

I’ve been making my way through Hillary Clinton’s book, What Happened, and as excellent as it is, I had to stop reading for a bit as what could have been was simply too raw. (Side note: If you don’t like HRC, you are welcome to your opinion, but I don’t want to hear it right now. She is being unfairly bashed online constantly and I’m not allowing that nonsense on my watch).

For a break from real-world pain, I picked up a People magazine borrowed from the library and put it down immediately after reading the headline “Taking Down a Hollywood Predator” with Harvey Weinstein’s mug front and centre. No thanks. More suffering in the form of patriarchy gone wild with power and abuse. I needed something else to inch back toward hope in humankind.

Thankfully, the brilliant Celeste Ng’s newest novel, Little Fires Everywhere, was in for me on the hold shelf. I raced to the library to get it, having just finished her debut, Everything I Never Told You, which broke my heart but in such a healing and redemptive manner. If you haven’t read Celeste Ng, please put these two books at the top of your TBR pile. Her talent is awe-inspiring.

This brings me back to my little corner. I’m finding it really, really, really challenging to write blogs right now. Everything I want to say is too raw and unfiltered – too brutal for human consumption. I start to type it and I can’t get it to sound right. So I backpedal and feel like I’ve failed. I know I’m not adding anything meaningful to the conversation. But maybe that’s okay. Perhaps what I’m meant to do in this god-awful time is just to say, “I’m here too. I’m hurting, just like you. Let’s look after ourselves and our loved ones.”

Anne Lamott tells a story in one of her books about planting a certain type of tulip that only blooms for a few days each spring. She was complaining to a friend about it, saying, “What is the point of all that work to only enjoy the flowers for 4 or 5 days?” Her friend’s answer? “The point is those 4 or 5 days.”

I’d like that lesson to patch up my hope so I can keep going. It doesn’t seem like enough. But when it’s all we have, perhaps that will have to do. I’m going to tend to my little corner while you tend to yours. Maybe, just maybe, it will temporarily brighten up the world and help us find the solutions we need for harmony, peace and optimism again.

October

October

I love October. Every year, it feels like a deepening of the new adventures ushered in by September. This month is about settling down, breathing in and out, bundling up in cozy sweaters, anticipating the upcoming holiday season, letting go of summer and preparing for the barrenness of winter.

The air smells fresh and clean, the leaves are changing hue and drifting lazily to the ground, pumpkins are in stores and scattered throughout patches, and the rain (in Vancouver) and snow (in Calgary) are beginning. For me, October is a quiet respite in between the seasons. It’s like a pause button, a reasonable place to stop and look around.

This October I’m adjusting to my new role as a part-time creative writing student, back at university after many years away. I’ve had four classes so far and I’ve proven to myself that I am equipped for this particular challenge. Talking about story arcs, symbolism and the inventive use of voice for two and a half hours turns out to be my idea of heaven.

Recently, I signed with an agent for background acting as I’ve dabbled in it this year and decided I wanted to do more. I feel energized by the idea of saying yes to things that once had the power to terrify me. One of the jobs I just did meant working through the night and skating for hours, an activity I can technically accomplish but practically have not done for over a decade.

And you know what? I rocked it. Sure, my feet were sore by 5 am and I felt tired and achy the next day, but all of that was totally worth it because I dared to say yes when my insecurity urged me to respond “Hell no.”

We can do more than we think we can. This life we have been given is not a dress rehearsal. It is happening, right here and right now, and as the great poet Ferris Bueller told us back in the mid-80s: “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it.”

October is for looking around and for gratitude (Canadians celebrate our Thanksgiving this weekend, hands down my fave holiday other than Christmas). It’s an invitation to examine our priorities, cherish the people who mean the most to us (do they know how much we love them?), and identify where our time and resources are going.

Use this month as a pause button. Take a look around. This is too good to miss.