Like it is - According to Diane

​Disclaimer: You are allowed to disagree with any or all of this post - kind of like Ricky (my hubs) did.

So, as a result of the above mentioned disclaimer, I have been so reluctant to write this post. Even though I have a blue post it note in my pen/paper agenda with a few writing points, I have felt fine moving that post it note from week to week.
I am worried I will offend you. So please. Be not offended. What follows is merely some thoughts that have been rolling around in my head for, oh … about 5 years.

The idea for this post came up one day when I was scrolling (this literally could have been any day in the past 10 years). I saw a picture of a friend on facebook and read the comments.
"What a great picture." It may have even said, "What a great picture of you!" but I am not certain.
I took pause and thought to myself. What a great picture. Was the person commenting on the person's ability to take an artistic photo. No. Were they commenting on the ability to capture light and use the space well? No. They were saying, that the person in the photo looked good in the photo. It struck me. While the well-intending commenter (no names cause here cause (spoiler!) we've all been this person) meant to be giving a compliment, it wasn't a compliment at all. Telling someone they look good in a picture is the same as saying, "You don't normally look like this, but the picture makes you look good." or "Wow, two dimensional and possibly a filter is better than the real thing!"
You might simply say, "You are beautiful." Three words. That's all you need.

The second example I am going to write about, was one that came up a few weeks ago. The day after watching our Middle School Musical, I needed to email a student who played Golde in Fiddler on the Roof. I started with, "First and foremost, you were amazing in the performance last night." Once again, I took pause. Were. I was giving a compliment for something in the past, and basically leaving the compliment in the past. You were ...amazing .. same as saying, "You were great yesterday, but today, you are just normal. Nothing special." This is where Ricky and I had a little "agree to disagree."

I rephrased the compliment with "First and foremost, you are amazing. My husband and I really enjoyed the performance last night."
I am not sure if this had a greater, or even different impact. Let's be honest. She is in Middle School and was probably thinking, Who is this mailing me?
But these situations have me thinking about how our words are intended versus how they land. There is a definite discrepancy here, and one worth considering when we craft our discourse.

"Have you lost weight?"

Oh dear. This one. While this might be a compliment to some (those working to lose or who feel like their appearance is attached to the red digital number - cause let's be honest, the ones with the little arrow … are they really accurate?) it's not to everyone. I am not sure I want to go into detail here - so I won't. But I offer you this alternative if you are truly trying to compliment someone's appearance - especially if you don't know their health and fitness goals.

"You are beautiful!" Oh … there they are again … those three words.

Now, this one isn't a compliment per se, but it's a comment often made out of compassion.

"You look tired."

Thanks, but really … no thanks. Basically saying "Wow. You look like shit. Bags, circles, melty face …" Just. No.

And finally,  an I see you and I want to take note, and possibly compliment you, compliment-not-compliment …

"Are you pregnant?" Often asked with excitement and raised eyebrows. Like they have x-ray vision.

People. For reals. I know for a fact I am not the only girl (I know of four off the top of my head) who had to reply, "no." (<- period or comma inside the parentheses??) to this comment.

I don't need to break this one down. Unless you KNOW and I mean know in that, Ms. Preg-o-nante told you herself, don't … just don't ask.

Now - get out there shape shifting your words, and I bet you a million bucks, you'll shape shift a life while you're at it.
​
You are beautiful! xo

Like it is - According to Vail

“You have lost so much weight!!” a colleague smiled and said to me a few years back.

In her defense, I honestly think that she was trying to compliment me in a positive way.  However, I it struck a chord with me and a I mumbled, “I know,” as a response. I am sure this comment would have fallen on someone else very differently, but for me it was most certainly a compliment that was not actually a compliment.  In fact, I often think that “compliments” that are focused on appearance rarely have the effect that we desire.

There are two major reasons that body related comments are really tough for me.

1. They make no assumptions about the past:  This is the glaring issue with these non-compliments.  If I have lost weight or look skinny now, what does that say about what I was like before?  Not only does it imply that I was fatter, heavier, but there is a layer of you were just not good enough.  It places so much importance on physical appearance and not the amazing individual inside.
2. They don’t take into account someone’s personal history: In the above example I mentioned, the person trying to give the compliment certainly did not know my history with body image.  However, it is safe to bet that most women and I think many men have or have had a complicated relationship with their physical bodies.  I suffered from an eating disorder in my early twenties which was painful, scary and finally cathartic when I was able to pull my way through the worst of it, but it will stick with me whether I want it to or not, for life.  When I was truly ill, a comment like, “you are so skinny,” would have been like eating disorder crack. I would have loved it and it would have fueled the controlling desire to be even thinner. So, when I hear a remark like that, I still have to check in with myself and give a little self-love.  I have to give myself a true compliment. “You are strong and healthy and your body can do amazing things.”

The second layer to my history is that at that very moment I received that non-compliment, I was struggling deeply with infertility.  At that point it had been about three years and the reason for my weight loss was out of my control. Though in the end a misdiagnosis, I was taking medication to support my thyroid, thinking that it would help my body be more receptive to pregnancy.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t the right fix. I was on high levels of synthetic thyroid medication and I felt totally out of control. I wasn’t happy about the weight loss; I was worried that there was something genuinely wrong with my body. Shortly after, I suspended the medication and the weight and strength came back.  Not surprisingly, when I reached a healthy weight, compliments did not flow in.

So what is the take-away here?  For me it has been to make sure that my compliments, when given, are thoughtful and speak to the whole person and who they have and always will be.  Compliments are wonderful and it is so important that we lift each other up. In my experience, being careful about how your words fall comes from receiving a really meaningful compliment and thinking about how to mimic that sentiment.

I find personally that the greatest compliment that I can receive is confirmation that someone heard me or saw me.  When some starts with, “I loved when/how you said…” or, “thanks so much for doing…”, I am listening and I am taking it in.  

Compliments should feel like a warm blanket on a winter night or a hug from a cherished friend.  If you hear a compliment and that feeling is not there, you might have received a compliment that is not a compliment.  Don’t fear, all it takes to let that feeling go is to give yourself a loving compliment and remember to bring compassion to the person who was doing their best, trying to lift you up.  Sometimes it is the thought, not the actual words that count.

“The greatest compliment that was ever paid to me was when someone asked me what I thought, and attended to my answer.” – Henry David Thoreau

Like it is - According to Diane

​The timer has started. And now I have to navigate writing - while in the fog. I can recall one time in particular. Ricardo and I landed down in Toronto, rented a car, and then had to make our way to Meaford to my sister's house. I was five months pregnant with Cami, it was night and from Toronto to Meaford, the headlights of the rental car barely pierced the fog. My heart felt heavy and my fear was cusping. Is that even a word? Cusping?
That's one kind of fog. The kind that blinds you.
The other kind of fog, is the one that is brought on by lack of sleep. This is the fog I believe I have been operating in for the past I-don't-even-know-how-many months. The fog of fatigue.
It doesn't help that every self-help podcast, book (just kidding, I can't/don't read books right now) and conversation I have with healthy people seems to conclude with one thing.
1. Sleep is uber important.
2. Starting the day with lemon water is HUGE.
I know. That was two.
Living in the fog has me drifting from room to room, forgetting why I am even there. Looking at people like I have something to say to them - and then forgetting, forgetting if I washed my hair already in the shower, moaning from time to time, and the best - wondering what is real, and what I dreamed. Are you thinking, "Ah ha! You are sleeping after all!" Nope. These "dreams" are the mish-mash of thoughts, and ideas that I have while lying in bed at 4:00am, unable to get back to sleep. Unable cause I am so tired, but hear a baby coughing, or unable because I start thinking about the university fund I haven't started yet.
This fog. I'll name it for you all. Motherhood. And I have it b.a.d. Someone said to me that going from one to two was a game changer, but this? And some people have more than two kids … these people - my heroes and sheroes.
I don't even know what's happening anymore; a miracle that I can function. And I say that to people all the time, "I don't even know how I am functioning." And then I make the comment about how amazing the body is. Cause, it is.
So my question is this. Moms and Dads out there. HOW THE HELL DO YOU DO IT? Do you hear me? About the fog? Do you live in it too? What's it like for you? Do you remember who you were before kids. Have you had conversations with your spouse recently? What did you talk about? What are some of the funny things that have happened in the fog?
Ricky always catches me when I do stupid shit.  "How was your tea?" He'll ask. When my tea cup is starting to form icicles because I forgot about it nine hours ago.
The fog is a real thing.
But back to the story of us driving to Meaford. Let's heed the advice from real life situations and inject this metaphor with what we know works. It's not just moms and dads that end up in the fog. We all get there now and again. So let's remember:

• Slow down. You can't race through the fog like some sort of maniac. Or someone's going to gonna get hurt.
• Turn off your high beams. What? It's easy to project when you're coming from a place of vulnerability. Turn that down. Own your own weather, and move on. Albeit, slowly.
• Be ok with not being ok. Once you let go of the need to control certain aspects of your life, you can find comfort in the unknown. Not everything can and should be controlled.

Now. having said this. Well - written it, I will heed some of my own advice. I have to get the girls from daycare … and I am going to walk slowly this time round.

Hasta pronto!

Like it is - According to Vail
 
The following is list of things I would like to blame on the fog:
 

• Forgetting 3 ATM cards in the machine and letting them get sucked back in.  (My husband forbade me from using ATMs where I needed to insert the card for a period of time.)
• Locking myself out of my own house and having to break in through a window with an umbrella.
• Allowing my dog to eat on the morning of her surgery.  Anesthesia required.

 
Sometimes I feel like I have to make a mistake or tragic error to snap me out of the fog.  Then the fog will lift for a while and begin to slowly, sneakily creep its way back into my life until the next awakening happens.  Like a jolt.
 
Sometimes, the fog and the clearing are not that evident.  There are days where I feel like I am just a bit removed from the clarity and colors of life, like I am not operating on all cylinders. 
 
I wish I had an understanding of exactly what causes the fog in my life.  Brain fog seems to be all the rage right now, and I have been reading a lot about why I do things that my normally functioning brain would be too intelligent or alert to do.  I have read that it can be lack of sleep, hormones, stress, diet and medications.  At any one time over the last 5 years of my life, any or all of these could have been the culprit.  I have often mentioned to friends and loved ones that I am not myself.  When I don’t feel like me, that is the fog talking. 
 
But not all fog is bad.  I had the opportunity to hike the Inca Trail years ago and I still treasure the photo where we crested Dead Woman’s Pass.  Was is a cloud?  Was is fog?  I don’t know, but it was one of the most beautiful things I have seen in my life.  A white mist was rolling over the landscape.  As we trekked on, the fog began to clear and opened into a breathtaking valley.
 
This is true in my experience too.  Once the fog lifts, there is often a deeper clarity than I had before.  The textures of life seem twice as bright.  I guess I am always trying to figure out how to break through to that technicolor opening, living less time in the fog.
 
Kind of like happiness and sadness, fog might be a necessary state to understand the value of a spectacularly present and vibrant moment.  If I never knew the fog and what it feels like to be a little bit off, would I know to search for my most powerful, lucid me?
 
Although I hate to admit it, I am probably part fog and part clearing.  I will bring compassion to my fogginess and try to let go, because it will eventually lift.

Like it is - According to Diane
 
Edited.
 
I have come to an end. And it made me cry this week. I am not a crier.
 
When my mother ill, I asked her, “Can you imagine anything worse than what you are experiencing right now?” I was looking for any silver lining possible. Her reply surprised me. She answered, without skipping a beat, “Of course. If any one of you six kids where in my place.” She strongly encouraged us to look at Cancer with a steady glare, and to prevent rather than treat. 
 
My mother had a BRCA1 mutation. (Go ahead, look it up)
 
She died from ovarian cancer.
 
One of her last wishes what that all us children, be tested for the gene, so that we could prevent, rather than treat.
 
Well, I have an impending ending. When I was pregnant with Niva, I was finally ready to know what I already knew. I too am BRCA1 positive. 
 
At the end of the month I will undergo a radical hysterectomy. It’s called radical, because there is nothing wrong. My uterus is gorgeous, and my ovaries, the same.
 
But, I know what this disease looks like, and I would be foolish to believe that I am invincible.
 
And, I have two daughters now, and I want to see them grow up (I’m crying now).
 
I have had surgeries. tonsils, knees, cervical spine, gallbladder. But this one is the toughest yet.
 
I hate saying b-bye to my reproductive system. A definitive ending to the possibility of bearing more children, and I don’t even want to have more kids. But the possibility, will be gone. It is also a beginning. Let’s focus on that and turn this frown upside down. Admittedly so, it’s going to be difficult to come up with the silver linings here.
 
It’s the beginning of no more tampons and pads. Win! It’s the beginning of menopause – I can let all my girlfriends know what this is like before they walk the desert of dryness and hot flashes. Talk about trailblazing! For real, I like to set an example. The is the beginning of prevention; an action that I hope my family and friends take note of. While I hate the thought of saying goodbye to my babies first home (more tears … and I am in Starbucks! = vulnerable) I can look at it as really focusing on the PRESENT and ensuring that their NOW HOME as he most comfortable and safe place possible. What a great goal to have. Now I have the Beatles "Hello Goodbye" in my head. 

Hello peace of mind. Welcome. 
 
Let’s lift a drink – to new beginnings all around.
 
Clink (that’s my Starbucks tea!) 

Like it is - According to Vail

​I was working with a student the other day and we got talking about what comes first, the chicken or the egg.  She said, “I know the answer to that one.  A circle has no end.”  Yes!
 
There are so many examples in life that tell us that life is cyclical.  The way the sun rises and sets.  The way our breath moves in and out of our bodies.  The way the seasons come and go, regenerating always.
 
However, we seem to sometimes resist the endings or at least resist what we consider to be an unhappy ending.
 
In the beginning of life, we live pretty cyclically or seasonally.  We start the school year fresh and we end joyously.  We are aware that certain things will end, but there will always be more, another adventure.  When high school ends for many of us, college is the next beginning.  After college or whenever “real” adult life starts, that is when the true challenge of beginnings and endings commences.  There are no longer demarcations for what the next expanse of life will look like, what comes next.
 
For me, becoming an adult was hard! I began to really hate endings and goodbyes.  Without the the promise or understanding of what would come next, I would feel a sense of despair.  I cried when I quit my first job.  It wasn’t because I loved my job, it was because it was the end and I didn’t know where I would begin again.  I did begin again, half-way across the country.  It was a fresh start.  Part of that felt terrifying and part of it felt liberating.
 
So, as I trudged along as an adult, I began to notice the pattern.  When I was open to life’s changing experience, there was always space for more, for new beginnings.  As I changed jobs, lost friends and grew, new opportunities and beautiful souls would again enter my life.  One of those souls, my roommate Nikki, would often say, “change is never easy but almost always good.”
 
Maybe endings aren’t as predictable as they were when I was young and are often times more gut-wrenching, but I try to remember that the ending has left space for something else.  I may not know what that is when I am in the midst of goodbye but as we look back on our lives it seems like the endings come just at the right time for the next adventure to begin.
 
One of the quotes that grounds me into the certainty that endings are really just beginnings in disguise is:
 
“i don’t pay attention to the world ending. it has ended for me many times and began again in the morning.”
 
-Nayyirah Waheed

Like it is - According to Diane
​ 
Disclaimer: This post was my idea, and I have NO idea where to start. I have already started the timer and I am 29 seconds in. What perspective will this post take – I honestly have no idea. Stay with me.
 
I am no stranger to racing. In fact, I did a race just yesterday. I’m 41 (holy shit!) and I have a race book that counts and recounts the 100+ races that I have participated in (I almost wrote competed in … but I changed my mind).
 
What is my WHY?
 
I ran my first 5k race in Colombia when I was 25 (or something). Finishing in 32 minutes and wanting to kind of puke (I may have been drunk the night prior) I was happy and felt like I had accomplished something.
 
*  To feel  sense of accomplishment.
 
After that, a friend asked if I wanted to race a triathlon. I had never considered this, but a friend had competed in duathlons back in St. Catharines (shout out Christine Turmain). I thought she was badass, and I wasnted to feel what it felt like to be a badass.
 
* To feel what if feels like to be a badass
 
I loved the triathlon, and signed up a year later … but almost drowned (that’s another story). So I quit triathlon for several years and only raced duathlons.
 
* To feel like what it feels like to be a badass when the search for that feeling scared you silly
 
When I moved to Brasil, I discovered Xterra races (cross country triathlon) and I wanted to compete so badly because I loved mountain biking and was curious about trail running. So I did. And panicked the entire swim while wearing a scuba wetsuit (the water drops on my goggles looked like monkey heads hanging off the trees). But I finished the race in 2nd place.
 
* To overcome and explore
 
I raced a ton on duathlons in Rio. And there was one girl, Tatiana Batista, who I was very clost to in terms of ability. Sometimes she was faster than I was, but sometimes I was faster than her. I raced her every single time we toed the line together.
 
* To compete
 
I was sitting on a white sofa when someone mentioned was an Ironman was. I was baffelled, and uttered the words, “I could neveNEVER do that!” I have heard a lot of people say the same thing.
 
In 2010 I raced a 1/2 Ironman on my birthday (and full moon). I still hadn’t overcome my fear of open water swimming but I did it, and finished wondering why I ever signed up. I wanted to both shit myself (literally) and puke at the same time. I did neither.

* To do a thing that is 1/2 way to a thing you thought you could NEVER do.
 
Within a month, I signed up for the full Ironman in Cozumel. Between that time and the Ironman, I would be forced to leave my job as I have a 5 year max., divorce, move, and start practicing yoga, and sprain my ankle very badly. Anyone who knows me, knows that my training is piecemeal, but that I bring it on race day. In 2011 I raced my first full Ironman.
 
* To do a thing you though you could NEVER do.
* To redefine the word NEVER
 
Many of you know, I met my now-husband at the finish line of that race. Serendipity also gained a whole new meaning that day (Nov. 27, 2011).
 
These days, I race for different reasons:
* I love the camaraderie
* I like to see how I measure up to the other amazing individuals on the field
* I LOVE to set an example for every single person around me
* The adrenaline
* The prep
* The lifestyle
 
But the greatest reason of all, is simple.
 
If feels fucking good.

Like it is - According to Vail

I am no stranger to racing.  There have been many triumphant moments in my life where I have crossed the finish line with a fist pump and a smile on my face.  Whether it is a 5k or the finish of a half-ironman, the sensation of completing the race is thrilling and additive.  I began racing in my early 20s and my desire to race has had its up and downs since then.  I often joke now that I am in retirement, but to be honest when I finished a sub-60 minute 10k las May, I discovered that feeling and that drive still exists.
 
But why do we race?  My sister once commented that she thought it was adults trying to relive their competitive sports past, but I think it is much more than that.
 
Racing, like lots of things in life, can serve as a metaphor for how we live our lives day by day.  There are so many components to completing a race and each takes a special dedication or strategy to be able to find success.
 
The Training: Often there is a spreadsheet involved in making sure that you stay on track.  This organization and desire to dedicate your time to the pursuit is probably the biggest challenge of a race.  I am often told by people that they could NEVER run a race.  However, I don’t believe this to be true.  If there is a true urge to race, anyone can do it.  Does it take time and sacrifice? Yes, but it is there for everyone.
 
Race Day: This is where the adrenaline kicks in and certainly at the starting line a racer feels invincible.  With experience an athlete knows that he/she needs to rely on the training, rely on the heart and rely on that initial desire or intention.  In the grit of the race, when legs are burning and you sometimes can’t catch your breath, it can be hard to access that original yearning to race, but that is where the work is done.  In my experience, inevitably, something allows me to place one foot in front of the other.
 
The Finish:  I really feel like there is nothing like crossing a finish line.  It is a tangible sense of accomplishment.  There is a sense of pride and also a sweet release.  There are hugs, medals and usually beer.
 
A race is many things.  It is organization, dedication, intention, adrenaline, heart, grit and accomplishment.  No wonder it is addictive.  If we did everything in life life we race, we truly would be invincible.

Like it is - According to Diane

I sometimes send the birthday message, “I hope there are great things on the horizon.” In the past, used to even draw this image as the end to a letter. It looked like this. I have thought little about the implications of the words I used.
 
A few years ago I was running with Ricky. We were climbing a long hill, when he said, “We are almost there.” I am not sure whether I was angry that he is constantly two steps ahead of me when running, or that I felt justified in my argument, but with my breathless yet direct tone, I panted, “We are never there. There is always there. And we are always here.” And then I found this video and it will forever crack me up. I think I even wrote about this on the old blog. But it’ comes up again and again. So it’s a valid revisit.
 
When we think of the horizon, it seems to be forever, “there.” A half day away, or metaphorically a week away, a half year away, five years, ten years a whole lifetime if we don’t snap out of it. We look forward to the end of the day, or the week, the long weekend, the holiday, the summer. We start saying things like, “When _______ then I will be happy.” Or, worse, “When _______ I will be able to breathe." The future lures our thoughts out of the present moment and into The Not.
 
The Not, being the place made up of excitement, fear, anxiety, what-ifs, all, and make believe. Dr. Seuss had his own version, called The Waiting Place.
​
So what is the balance between getting prepared, ready and remaining present? I am not writing to give you the magic formula. I haven’t quite figured that one out yet. This morning I was listening to another Podcast however, For When You: Want to Break the Rules. And the guest of the show suggested that we look at all the events in life, and just that. Parts of life. We can get excited about the future, we can plan for the future, we can try to peer in, but at the end of the day, you have no control of how it’s going to unfold. Best to spend your time practicing how it unfolds in real time. Two feet on the ground. While you may be peering out to the horizon, just keep in mind. Real life only happens once. Forever fleeting moments of nows. Piles and piles of fading nows.
 
Look around, there are millions of miracles happening as far as you can see. Even if there is no horizon in sight. 

Like it is - According to Vail

I am a natural born planner.  I get a feeling of exhilaration when I am able to check something off my to do list, something I have carefully planned and executed.  When I am daydreaming, you can bet that it is always about the next vacation, the next yoga class, my next meal.
 
My husband is the exact opposite.  Often on a weekend morning, he will be reminded of a plan, but commitments and to dos for him are not mandatory.  There is a flexibility to his day that I had never imagined possible. 
 
So, opposite attract and hopefully opposites rub off on each other a bit.
 
Over the past few years, I have developed a meditation practice and have really begun to appreciate the power and joy in living in the present.  I have tried to reel my brain back from the future and ground it in today.  Rather than letting my mind ruminate during those day dreams, I have learned to tap into my breath and really see what is happening: feel my dogs’ soft fur, notice the brilliant blue sky and smile.
 
This has left this natural-born planner with a question.  Who is living right, my husband or me?  Maybe there is an even better question.  Can you be a little of both?
 
Though living in the present moment has and needs to take a bigger space in my life, I am not necessarily going to chuck my planner in the trash.  Also, I often think about the compassion I bring to myself when thoughts creep in during meditation.   It is ok to have thoughts.  It is natural to want to plan.  So, keep that planner.  Make plans that will bring you joy, bring you strength or whatever you may be wanting to feel in your life.  However, I have two tips as you being to fill those empty pages with plans.

1. Be all there for what you have planned.  If you have been planning that trip to Italy, in your mind since you tasted your first slice of pizza, when you get there, be there.  Take in the moments with all of your senses.  Smell the freshly cooked pasta, feel the Prosecco on your tongue and notice everything you see as you stumble down a cobblestone street.

 

1. Be open to throw away the plan completely.  Life and plans sometimes don’t turn out as we think they will.  So, don’t stay attached to the plan if it doesn’t feel right.  If we are back in Italy and it is raining on the day you carefully planned to go to the beach.  Throw that plan away, cozy up in the nearest café and let life happen.

 
Planning and presence might not need to be up against each other in the ring.  Maybe they complement each other perfectly when used wisely.

Like it is - According to Diane
​
​It’s 7:00 p.m. A few months ago I had this idea for a blog. I would suggest a topic, invite a friend to write, and we would have one topic, but two voices. Truth is, this idea was a spin-off of something my brother once said. I was telling him how much I loved Danielle Laporte because she, “Says it like it is.”
 
To which he replied, “She says it like it is … to her.”
 
I have thought a lot about this idea, and hence, the one topic two voice post idea was born.
 
First times. This is freestyle writing. My great friend, Vail (author of the other post) and I write for 30 minutes. All edits, links, words, punctuation, styling in.
 
The ideas for this post started flowing last Sunday. I was talking with Ricky (my hubs) about the ideas that are dancing around in my head right now. I said to him, “my wheels are spinning” and then I looked down and realized how true that was. We were riding our bikes. You know when things just feel so right? This is one of those times in my life, a moment when pieces are falling into place. Magically. Oh so magically.
 
First times.
 
Throughout the week I have been seeing first times everywhere. It like the Anthony Robbins, Shift your Focus video. 
 
My friend Sara posts on Instagram, a picture of her Garmin as she trains for 70.3 Cartagena, her first triathlon. Ricky opened up his shop – first night to the public. First time Niva slept in a different room than us, first time I made soup with radish, first time I said this, or did that … the list is long and each day I was seeing how many firsts actually exist.
 
Each day is really a giant, or small … whatever size you want it, canvas. It’s the first day you have that day, and the first time you have that time. And when you vision a day like this, you can then get wild with the colors of your words, the luster of your breath, the shine and shadows of your thoughts, the length of your stride, and the tools and techniques you learn along the way.
 
Because what is this life but a supersized series of first times.
 
Don’t be afraid to start is all I say. The colors want to dance too. 
 
The canvas awaits. 

Like it is - According to Vail
 
It is almost impossible to describe that feeling.  Your heart is racing, there is a tingling in your extremities and a sinking in your gut.  It is the first time.
 
As I think back on my life there is a first time that sticks out that had me feeling all jumbly inside.  I still remember the fear, excitement and newness as I slid my airplane window up and realized I was half-way across the world.  It was the first time to step into a world where English was not spoken.  The first time to be in the world on my own.  At 15, as I stepped onto Austrian soil, I had the opportunity to be abroad, to expand my concept of the world.  As I have grown, and hopefully matured, I still chase after that first-time feeling of experiencing the expanse of the universe.  As I reflect on why that moment had such a profound effect on me, it is because doing something you have never done before creates a unique experience where you are locked into the now.  I have learned so much about the power of the now and what is allows us to tap into.

1. Your senses are on fire.  When we haven’t tasted it, smelled it, felt it before there is this luxurious sensory overload that etches those feelings into your brain.  I can still feel the rich, black dressing on my salad from my first meal in Austria.
2. You are present.  I mean REALLY present.  You do NOT want to miss anything.  As we repeat experiences, we tend to edit, take out what we didn’t absolutely love the first time.  We tune out when it isn’t as fresh.  However, each time I travel to a new spot, I drink in the information and moments because I know I may never get them back.
3. Possibilities are endless.  As we go through life, we tend to begin to categorize and make assumptions based on our experiences.  We think we know how things are going to turn out.  However, when we lack that prior knowledge, we are free to be in the flow of possibility.  In the day to day it is east to turn down an opportunity but when you are traveling somewhere for the first time; you bungee jump, you turn down the road less traveled and you talk to a stranger.

 
As we have more and more adventures in life, the first-times seem to be fewer and farther between.  We have less opportunity to access that newness and excitement.  However, it is not impossible.  Get creative and find something wild, or even better, pretend that every new day is the first time again.  Brush your teeth for the first time, eat your breakfast for the first time and smile at someone for the first time.  That might be the key to living life to its fullest.  “First-time it” every day of your life.