Some actions have unanticipated consequences. I was reminded of that today.
I’m thankful to have been given the opportunity to play a small part in helping a Syrian family get settled in our lovely city of Winnipeg, Canada.
This morning, we managed to pack a pickup truck full of various household items this morning, including various bedroom/kitchen/dining room furniture, home decor, kitchen/bath essentials, and some toys for their two children.
Coffee is one of my favourite beverages. Not only because I enjoy having a cup (and many times two) of the dark elixir but because it’s often accompanied by good, if not great and memorable, conversation.
These memorable conversations usually take place with one or more of my friends and/or family, sometimes in a private home, sometimes at a coffee shop. Sometimes it follows a meal, sometimes not.
What each conversation has in common, other than a beverage of some kind, is that there is no agenda, there is no timeframe or time limit. Once we've experienced it one, I find that almost everyone knows something good or great is about to happen but this last point we never bring up because it might kill the magic of it all.
Have you ever heard the advice that you shouldn’t do or say anything that you wouldn’t want printed on a billboard the next day?
Though this is great advice in and of itself, I think the commonly held view is that we need to consider it for the really important, potentially devastatingly embarassing actions or interactions we might engage in.
But when it comes down to it, it’s great advice for just about any action or interaction.
As at July 2017, I have 300+ books read, 30% of a 1,000-book reading challenge I started in April 2013 (though I didn't quite know it at the time).
I expected to learn a great deal from the books I expected to read but what I didn't expect were the lessons I would learn from the act of reading itself. I guess you could call these additional lessons a great add-on bonus throughout this process.
After reading the first 100 books, I offered ten lessons the experience had provided.
Then, after the next hundred, I thought I'd provide the next tranche of lessons. There happened to be five more.
I've been rediscovering YouTube recently. What I mean by that is that I've moved beyond the usual movie trailers, educational video lectures and various clips of late night TV shows and news. I'm now often on the hunt for vlog-type "how to" videos.
This hunt for helpful information, of which there is plenty, has lead to the discovery of the next generation of what are called "unboxing" videos. I hadn't seen these in a number of years and now realize how much they've changed.
I’ve been wanting to talk about something for over six months now but hadn’t figured out how to broach the subject, that is until a conversation with my bestie Michelle yesterday. (Love you Michelle!)
I couldn’t contain myself as I burst out and told her how I felt like a teenager again. And ironically, she also felt reenergized, but for a different reason. That made for an amazing conversation. (Though I’m spoiled because every conversation with Michelle is amazing.)
When we think of our story, we think of what we tell others. This story usually consists of our background, our expertise in various areas and what we’ve had a chance to experience throughout our lives.
Our résumé is a story, our online dating profile is a story, how we introduce ourselves is a story, even our elevator pitch is a story and it can influence how others view us—how they mentally file us for future reference.
What if I were to tell you that those stories, though important, are not as material as your story, what you tell yourself?
I once heard a great saying: “Only trust the expert who can explain a complex concept in a way a five-year-old can understand.” To me, that expert is Carl Richards. In this book, Richards explores the ways in which we can be our own worst enemy when it comes to money, and his illustrated examples drive his points home with face-palm clarity.