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Time to get busy again? The value of volunteering…

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They say if you want something done, ask the busiest person you know. I’m not sure if I’m the busiest person you know, but I seem to have reversed my decision of last year… the one where I decided to step BACK from taking on extra curricular challenges. Hmmm.

I am loving (seriously freaking holy awesome) LOVING my day job; it is different every day, challenges me on many levels and is near infinite in its possibilities. I have grown kids who need me very little these days, and my youngest is about to graduate. I am single again, so have time on my hands too. That all adds up to energy to spare and a willingness to bite off a bigger chunk of challenge. Either that or it adds up to a whole big pile of crazy… maybe they’re the same thing?

I have found myself on a board. Or two. Or three, now I think about it. I am really excited about this, despite the fact that I am somehow chair of one board and co-chair of another. The co-chair job is already a big bucket of work but I’m really excited and eager to start moving forward. The other boards are low output, but engaging in different ways.

So why do I do this? Why do I take on excess work? I am trying to figure this out; is it out of boredom? Maybe… to a minor degree. I know some people take on board roles to pad their resumes, gain experience and exposure, “network & leverage connections”. I think I do it because I have too much electricity running through my body and too much work gives me a productive place to put it. I’m also a creative person with more big ideas than I can find places for without the kind of forum that volunteer work provides.

The funny thing is that I somehow manage to keep board work and volunteerism separate in my head, how weird is that? I consider time spent helping out at the Food Bank or serving lunch at a soup kitchen as volunteer work, but board work is its own category in my mind. However I categorize it, I’m glad I have opportunities to stretch my mind and work with such diverse groups through this kind of activity. And how cool to be part of SOMETHING BIGGER (that deserves capitals, no?).

Crazy. I seem to step back from boards every few years; in hindsight perhaps I do that only so I can catch a second wind and hit the ground running again, with increased capacity.

Hey… join a board… it’s rewarding! You’ll meet new people, experience new challenges, have exciting adventures, learn Roberts Rules of Order… And if you want, you can even network and leverage new connections (wink). But mostly you’ll do good work for a cause you believe in. There are many not for profit groups and organizations seeking committed, talented people.

Learn who needs the skills you have to offer by contacting Volunteer Yukon or offer to serve on one of the boards highlighted on the Government of Yukon’s Boards & Committees page. And if you’re reading this and you’re not in the Yukon then find a group wherever you are that needs all the special you-ness you have to share. You’ll be glad you did. Seriously!

My stilettos, my choice. Your Hijab? You’ve been brainwashed!

c1492d1b9a40d95336eb738d895c9ae2Ever hear anything like this? “It’s shocking that Muslim women have so little say over what they wear. They say it’s their choice to wear the Hijab. They’ve been brainwashed! Their free will has been corrupted and they have no idea what real choice and real freedom is. Not like me. I know real freedom.”

You stand there in your size 9, 4 inch stilettos crammed with your size 9.5 feet, toenails painted and cuticles trimmed, leg hair ripped out by the roots with hot wax applied regularly. The shoes hurt but they make your legs look great.  You know you could wear flats… you choose to wear heels.

Your $12 ultra sheer super control top pantyhose do their best to contain that tiny tummy bulge but what it can’t hold in is managed by your Spanx. Your dress is exactly the right mix of professional and sexy so that your meeting today will go well; if your ideas don’t dazzle them, they’ll be hoping for a peek to determine of the colour of your $65 underwire push up bra and wondering if it matches your thong and whether you’re landing strip or clean. You choose to wax because it makes you feel sexier…

Your skin glows… it should, after being religiously scrubbed, buffed and exfoliated. You moisturize twice daily of course, to stay smooth and silky. Your makeup only takes a half-hour now, and you’ve narrowed the routine down to about 15 steps and products. The cost is alarming, but that’s how it goes. You choose to use good skin care and cosmetics; they are much more expensive, but they make you feel prettier…

Your hair… well, it continues to be a struggle. You are going grey and would like very much to let it go, let it happen. In your profession though, grey hair is an invitation to the younger, bolder, hipper folks to step in. You’re not quite ready to let that happen so it’s cut, trim, dye, streak, highlight, foils… you name it. You choose to colour your hair because you know it makes me look younger and sexier…

You pull on your exercise gear and go for a run a few times a week. You hate it hate it hate it and it hurts your knees but you only have a little time to exercise and you seriously don’t want to gain any weight over the winter. Your body needs to be bikini ready when you head to Mexico for a winter break. You may be getting older but you sure don’t want to seem like you’ve given up! And your man, well he likes you looking slim and hot and you want to keep him looking…

Women in the west are the most brainwashed in the history of the world, I would wager. I’m one of them. I have bought into the Virginia Slims, Coca- Cola-Calvin Klein-Betty Crocker-Cosmopolitan femininity construct as much as the next woman. I have no place, no right and no authority on which to judge the choices of any woman anywhere. My choices are the result of the brainwashing I’ve undergone my entire life. Here in the West, that’s celebrated as personal freedom.

There are lots of reasons to be angry about the treatment of women in other countries, under other regimes and political or religious systems. Squawking over women’s lack of choices is hypocritical at best so long as we continue to be pummelled with messages about how to be prettier, fitter, sexier so long as we keep making dolls for our daughters that look like little anorexic prostitutes. We can’t keep offering our own women the choice between being being blow-up doll bitches or perfect Pinterest moms while condemning the choices of others. We need to think about this…

Moral authority? We don’t have it.

Has the dark side won?

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Hey Whitehorse? What happened that we think it’s okay to be just rude? I mean really really rude, publicly really rude and disrespectful of each other? We talk all the time about the need to join forces against bullying, about protecting each other and creating safe places. So… what’s this about?

Why do I see more and more Facebook groups called “Shit Parkers of Whitehorse”, “Superstore Whitehorse Sucks”, “Cinemas in Whitehorse Suck” and so on. I get that people may be dissatisfied with the service or the situation but really?

Think about Superstore for a minute, everyone yelling that they don’t have what you want on the shelves. They are trying to fill an enormously increased need with no increase in storage space… how can they do it without upsetting their customers? The people who work there are doing their best to keep things as seamless as they can…remember that, please?

And those shit parkers? Hell, that could be any one of us on a bad day. How will you feel when your car, with your bumper sticker or little family decal on the rear window shows up on that page? I know maybe it feels harmless but feels like we’re sliding further from common decency and respect.

I know, Pollyanna wishes. I’m as cranky as the next person sometimes (maybe too often). I guess even this blog post is me allowing gravity to pull me down a bit too. Oh well. Can’t fight it?

So damned sick of cancer

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I am sick of cancer. I am so damned sick of cancer I want to kick it in the face and punch it in the throat and toss it to the ground and stomp it to death once and for all. I hate it. I hate that it keeps sticking its hateful pointless sharp nose into the lives of people I love. It’s a brute of a sickness, an evil and unwelcome liar. It is a killer tarted up and whorish. There’s hope and optimism… bam. There’s confidence and faith and staying strong… smash. And there’s fear and anxiety and hopelessness and grief… yes, there are all of those things.
I don’t have cancer (though who the hell knows, everybody will sooner or later right?). People I have loved have battled cancer… and yes,in my mind it’s always a foe, an enemy. Some have beaten it, for now at least. Some haven’t. Some people I care about have just had it come back and kick them in the ass again. Some for a second time, a third time…
Why? How? What is in our world, this world, this water, this food, this air… these walls, this furniture, this carpet, this computer screen or phone that is KILLING US? What are we ingesting, digesting, resting on that is invading our bodies and turning our own cells against us?
I want this to stop. I don’t want it to catch anyone else that I love. I don’t. I’m tired of crying.

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Swan Heaven!

Swan Heaven!

This lovely trumpeter swan has arrived in Yukon, landing at Swan Haven on Marsh Lake for a rest. The return of the swans means spring has arrived at last and we Yukoners get a bit giddy when we hear their cries overhead.
This piece forms part of my new spring line; I’ve stepped a bit away from jewelry to make these whimsical pieces of driftwood, wire and paper. I think I will call the line Twisted Whimsy, but if you have a better idea please… comment! If you’re interested in buying a piece, please email me at deborahtd@gmail.com

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More SPRING to celebrate!

More SPRING to celebrate!

I am seriously a fool at this time of year. I am giddy and giggly and smile at random people all the time. The sun is up from before I wake up until almost 10 o’clock at night now, and that leaves LOTS of hours of time to create and be active. I can’t STOP making these little sculptures… they just make me happy.