Sharon's Blurb

  The parking lots are unusually empty. It's a Saturday afternoon - a time when you would think many people would be out and about doing their weekend errands. But they are not. Even the roads seem unusually quiet.  Un-busy. At the grocery store, a pleasant surprise to find it not too crowded. Again, a Saturday afternoon - a time when you would think many people would be out getting their weekly groceries. But no. Something has changed. There is something tangible in the air. A palpable sense of quietness. Of holding back. Of austerity. People are hunkering down and making do with what they have. They are cocooning themselves, withdrawing into the safety of their cozy homes and condos, waiting out the storm. The storm of inflation. Of high prices. Of empty store shelves. There are whispers that we are on the verge of a recession. Shhhhhhh! Don't even utter that word. For we may then manifest it, and it may become so. I am not even sur

 When I was studying Journalism at Humber College, one of our assignments was to interview a long-time married couple to find out what made them stay together. Our neighbours at the time, were the perfect subjects. They were married shortly after World War II, and had come over to Canada from Germany. They were the best neighbours one could have; always up for a chat over the fence; always offering some homemade German delicacies; always cheerful and happy. When I sat down with them and asked them what made them stay together after so many years, the lady said, "We take each other for granted." I was in shock. Taken aback. I thought the secret to a great relationship was the opposite:  NOT taking each other for granted. And then she explained You have to take it for granted that the other person will always be there.   Always have your back. Always offer company, comfort, solace, friendship, love. Perhaps there is some truth to that. But I still thin

  I was gazing out at the garden, when suddenly something caught my eye. It was a bright little object moving amongst the wood chips. A closer look revealed it was a lady bug. A dead lady bug. Being hauled over hill and dale by a rather large ant. The ant would heave it up and forward over the rock. Then pull it behind for a short distance, before heaving it forward again. It was incredible. The speed at which this ant was carrying his prize gave me pause. I am not sure what a human equivalent would be. A 200 pound man carrying an object considerably larger than himself, rapidly and without concern for the geography, hurried and anxious to present his prize to his queen. Whatever the motivation may be, this ant was on a mission. He traversed what may have been the equivalent of several hundred kilometres in human terms. The terrain was of no consequence. He was bringing home this prize. Did he kill the lady bug or was it already dead? No matter. The

  I used to be so embarrassed as a child when my parents would strike up a conversation with a total stranger. Just chit chat, about this and that. I remember wanting to disappear into the sidewalk whenever they would hail a stranger, "Nice weather today, eh?", or "Gorgeous baby you have there!" Little did I know at the time that several decades later, I would be doing exactly the same thing. Engaging a total stranger in chit chat. While waiting in line at the supermarket.   Or with the supermarket checkout person.   With the receptionist at the dentist. Just chit chat. About this and that. About nothing, really. Nothing that will change the world. Nothing that will upset anyone's political or religious views. Or discover any new planets.  Or life forms.  Or invent any new discoveries. Just chit chat. Small talk. Idle banter that engages another human being. I read a study once that essentially said that small talk can actuall

  Who knew cleaning out the cat litter could be so cathartic. Cleansing. For both the cats and me. Who would ever have thought that the seemingly mundane tasks of vacuuming, dusting, sweeping, could become something meditative, cerebral and revered. It's all perspective. I recently learned that by turning our so-called workaday routines into observed rituals, we can reinvent our entire beings. We can become wholly immersed in the moment of doing whatever it is we have to do, and be transformed. It is transformational indeed. And it's all perspective. How you look at things. Perceive them. Our entire attitude changes by how we look upon things. By changing the perception of our mundane routines and thinking upon them as privileged rituals. Rites of passage. A privilege to be able to carry out. Indeed. Instead of dreading the routines of our daily lives and existences: walking the dog, weeding the garden, making dinner; thinking of them instead a

  I love the early dawn. The light that slowly creeps its way through the curtains at 5 a.m. in the summer, a little later in the fall and winter. But it's there.  Letting everyone know that the day is arriving. My body clock always seems to wake me around that time. I imagine it has been the same for countless centuries, that man is awakened by the early dawn. The birds are already awake, as they sing out their daily greetings. I always enjoy that time of day.   The day before the fray. In a previous career as a morning news anchor I awoke at 3:30 every morning.   I had to be at work by 5 a.m., just as the dawn was breaking. It was a glorious time - driving through the sleepy streets which were surprisingly full of other drivers too. Commuters perhaps who were on their way to the big city to their jobs. I always noticed the lineups were long at the 24-hour drive-through coffee shops, even at that hour.   And I still sometimes awaken at 3:30.   It wa