Can less be more?

For the very first time, I lost my job.  This happened  a couple of months ago, just a week before a much anticipated European vacation with my wife.  I guess there’s never a good time to lose your job.

The reality of losing half of our  double-income  weighted on me very quickly, especially with the intention of going on a relatively extravagant vacation to celebrate some milestones in our lives.  Though most of the trip was already paid for and non-refundable ,  the money we did end up spending while vacationing was very calculated and in some cases, downright cheap.   

I still have some leeway before I get to the end of my financial-comfort- zone-rope but  I have already made lifestyle changes to anticipate the possibility that it might be awhile before we’re back to double-income luxury.  My reality now is…less eating out;  more use of cheaper forms of transportation(bike, public transit, walking); less expensive/free fitness sessions (no visits to the gym and more biking and walking to stay fit) ; making use of long-forgotten dry/canned goods way in the back of the pantry(there’s gonna be some interesting meals for sure!) ; more diligence in scoping out deals at the grocers.

It’s not my intention to paint a picture that my family will soon be in need… far from it.   In fact, I wanted to highlight just the opposite.   We have so much to be thankful for and are bathed in luxury, regardless of where our income level is at.  I have so much!  I have a supportive wife – who continues to bring home the bacon(or half of it). I have great kids.  The oldest just recently married and the 3 youngest living at home going through various stages of college or work.    We have a supportive extended family, most living just minutes from us.  We have a vibrant church community that is so enriching to our lives.  We are rich!  By the way, nominally speaking, most of us North Americans are the top 5% income earners in the world!!!  See how "rich" you are... http://www.globalrichlist.com/

Yes, I try to live with an attitude of gratitude.  I am grateful for food on the table, a meal from a restaurant, a banquet at a wedding and the ability to work, earn a salary and pay for all of these - the last two of which I consider privileges.  Contrast this to friends I have  in another part of the world… they struggle to  earn enough take home pay that would often only cover their meals until mid-week.

I often extol the virtues of simple living(frugality of consumption) and try to live simpler so that others can simply live. Easier said than done, but the path to simple living is definitely a lot easier when you lose your job.   

My job search continues… but at the end of the day, I think less IS more.

Simple Life ~The Weepies

SomeOne's listening... it ain't me.

Are you a poor or lazy listener like me?  

I'm easily distracted which likely contributes to my poor listening skills.   I don't think I'm intentionally a lazy listener, I try to pay attention and concentrate when spoken to.  I'm pretty sure I  have some sort of attention-deficit in conversations, especially when there are others talking, noises or activities going on in the background.

This deficiency affects me most noticeably when I listen to songs.  I'm terrible at picking up the lyrics or for that matter remembering them.  It's a multi-tasking thing to listen to the music AND the words.  I gravitate to the music rather than the words...but not both at the same time.

I can recognize tunes but generally don't know the lyrics to them.  I'm always amazed at how everyone else in my family can rattle off lyrics to songs... not me.  I can't even remember the classic hymns/songs for church service...not even traditional Christmas carols. !!! -  without the aid of a song sheet/hymnal or powerpoint slide

So recently, I really paid attention to lyrics from a song.  I've heard this song many, many times....but never really heard the lyrics until the other day.   There were few distractions as  I was in my car pulling out of the garage on my way to the gym.  No traffic, no pedestrians, no glaring sun, no rain,  no passengers, just me.... the radio was on - I listened.

This was the song that was playing... 

Better Than a Hallelujah ~Amy Grant

At the end of the day, I know I need to work harder at listening.

God listens.

God loves a lullaby
In a mothers tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
God loves a drunkards cry,
The soldiers plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

The woman holding on for life,
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes
The tears of shame for what's been done,
The silence when the words won't come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

Better than a church bell ringing,
Better than a choir singing out,singing out.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

it's good to be home

Where is home? I was born and raised in a beautiful city bordered by water to the west, mountains to the north and dotted with green belts, bikeways and trees throughout. Vancouver is home and I can't think of anywhere else on earth I'd rather live.

I went on a trip recently with my wife to her country of birth. The Dominican Republic. Her home was in Boca de Nigua until she was about 11. She hadn't been back in 18 years. The last time she was there, she didn't have the opportunity to connect with neighbours, friends, or classmates from her childhood. She made it a point this time to meet with as many people as possible from her first home.

We traveled to the DR in July - it was probably the hottest time of the year to go visit. Hot. Humid. We were hosted by friends in Santo Domingo. Our excursion into the little town of Boca de Nigua took about 40 minutes. Though I couldn't understand what she was saying, I could hear the delight, eagerness and happiness in Joan's voice as we got near her childhood home. I couldn't understand her because she was rambling off in Spanish to her friend from Nigua-days, Carmen, who was also on this excursion with us. Joan was on the edge of her seat- the backseat- straining to get a better look through the front windshield at the approaching town and homes, that weren't so familiar anymore. The day brought good memories for Joan but there was some disappointment as she could only see two families from her past. 

On the last weekend before we left the DR, another trek into Boca de Nigua was planned. I grudgingly went on the second trip. I was not a happy camper. We would be travelling those 40 minutes again in Nicio's car that had A/C comparable to a battery-operated fan pushing air behind an ice cube.

We first met with Rafaelito. Friendly, warm, inviting, and gregarious. He made you feel welcome. No wonder he is a leader in the community. He knows so many people. My displeasure in going on this long drive and potential wild-goose chase soon dissipated as I witnessed the overwhelming joy and disbelief on the faces of these friends when they realized it was Joan walking towards them. There were long and tight embraces, tears, photo ops/ video ops, distribution of family photos from Joan, prayer and then the good-byes.

In the 2 to 3 hours that it took to shuttle from one to house to another house and another house and another..., we were able to see 5 beautiful, joyful and precious people and their families. Never in their dreams did they ever expect to see Joan again when she left the island 27 years ago.  I'm glad I went along and got to experience what it looks like from the outside, the joy of a homecoming.

Homecomings can be special.  I wonder if I'll get to experience homecoming.   I believe that I will someday.    It 'll  be that Place that many of us have heard about -  a Place where you will know the answers to a lifetime of questions, a Place of familiar voices and faces, a Place of comfort, refuge, peace, love and unimaginable  joy.

At the end of the day...it's going to be good to be HOME.