The engines are revving…
About two years ago I posted a ridiculous survey asking readers of this blog “What do you want to read about this year?” Noted… you don’t want to hear about Charles’ “deepest darkest secrets, fears & anxieties.” Hah, fancy that… thus I ignored that question on the survey until a few weeks ago when I checked in to discover that YES a whopping 25% of you suddenly wanted to hear more about my secrets. Even more remarkably, this was just a shade behind, “Who’s Charles? Show me more pictures of the kids!” which, to be truthful, is a false statistic because MoZiLLa kept clicking that button until I disabled repeat visitors. Therefore, my deepest darkest secrets rank #2 to “What it’s like to be the father of Seb, Terrific Trio, DH of Tess?” considering all I talk about is the trips, family, Sebastian etc, I decided it time to bare my soul. It happened on a recent flight home to Hong Kong… the mood, setting and stressors all aligned to bring you the following. All I can say is “be careful what you click for!”
Well my friends, here we are… I am on the flight from Amsterdam back to Hong Kong. I have just watched two movies: Miami Vice and The Departed. You might be surprised to learn that even with all the travel I do, this is the first trip in a long time that I have watched movies! Most of the time I am catching up on work. Not so much today… just too tired and the weekend is almost upon me anyway.
Some of you may know from previous posts that the environment of being on a plane triggers strange thought processes inside my head. Tonight is no exception. Both great movies have given my mind an outlet – y’know, living vicariously through others. Now I’ve created a list of my fav songs from the CX collection. The lights are low, e-mail turned off, no incoming signals and the quiet world inside myself – the one that waits so patiently as I rush frantically through life – has time to talk. And wow, does that silent self have something to say.
Has anyone here ever heard Johnny Cash’s rendition of "One" by U2? Truly a classic song.
We’ve started using executive coaches with our senior management team in APAC. That’s a great development tool and in the areas of the region where the coach has been at work for several months we’re seeing tremendous benefit. Watching individuals take their game to the next the level is always fun and rewarding. The other great thing about managing executive coach activities is the interaction yours truly gets with the coach. No small thing.
This past week we arranged for the coach (his name is Guy) to be in Singapore to work with some of our team. Between sessions he and I got a chance to talk at length. This gentleman resides in Melbourne and has a very interesting past: moved around as a kid due to his dad’s international career, (including living in Hong Kong;) military career; professionally trained as a psycho-therapist; worked in one of the big five consulting firms but his real passion for many years has been coaching senior executives. He also reads this blog… but he lurks, never comments. Maybe that will change someday! (Check now, maybe this will draw him out.)
Back to our discussion… the point is he, the coach, said a very interesting thing to me… essentially that I am playing way too small in my life. He used the analogy of being a helping hand in people’s lives, the way someone would reach out to help someone who had fallen. I paraphrase a bit here but essentially this is what he said: "You have a gift, Charles, to help people. We’re all waiting for you to extend that helping hand, all of us, even me, what are you waiting for?" All of us? You, the coach, are saying this to me?
Hmmmm… I’m sure you’ve heard Guns ‘N Roses’ rendition of "Sympathy for the Devil?"
What the coach said to me was really no surprise. However, I WAS surprised that HE said that.. Even though deep inside I knew we were swimming in the "know that I know" pond. I am well aware I suppress my power and abilities. I’m not sure why that is – why do you think I do that, readers? Please tell me. The expression "afraid to meet the leader within me" resonates.
I am also clear – as is The Coach – this is a spiritual issue. I recognize that may sound odd to some of you dwelling in different doctrines, or who are at various stages of belief in God. Just view it as me a few hundred miles down the road from you. The struggle I’m going through is not belief or disbelief, it is what form should answering God’s call take? Even when I ask THAT question, hidden deep within me is the answer. Covered up, never spoken about and often denied… Jesus is wooing me for a commitment that scares the daylights out of me.
Currently listening to "What If" by Coldplay.
When I tell people about "my calling" they often respond with, "I’ll pray for confirmation." I appreciate that, hope people will pray for me and thank them very much. But you know what… I’ve been fighting, kicking and screaming against this calling so hard – for 25 years as of Nov 2007 – that surrendering and obedience will be freedom for me. The circumstances might need confirmation in a Calvinistic way, but the calling itself needs no confirmation. In fact, when praying myself over this issue I often sense God saying, somewhat annoyed, "Don’t ask Me to call you again." The issue is not confirmation – it is being obedient to the original call. That was twenty-five years ago while at Trent University. Recently, as I write about those days and my walk with God, it’s quite possible there was an earlier calling when I was very, very young. If any prayer is required, it is prayer that the appropriate door will open and the path forward will become clear.
Currently listening to "The Message" by Coldplay.
Speaking of prayer, I am the Prayer Leader for the upcoming Walk To Emmaus in April. I was asked for a variety of odd reasons – odd for others, maybe not odd for me – one of them being that the Director of this Walk To Emmaus sensed divine instruction telling him I should play this particular part. The other reason was the creative nature of prayer in my life. Would you believe me if I told you I have another blog? Yes, friends, I have a private online prayer blog/journal. I started it last June and since then have posted 105 times. (Contrast that with 155 posts on The Searchlight of Insight since April 2002.) Each post contains my latest prayers and anything goes. It is an amazing tool because of the grace I experience each time I post – particularly when I’m down on my knees in grief, like when our landlord jacked our rent 50% a few weeks ago. (To be truthful, only a 50% increase was an answer to prayer. Another family in our building had a 90% increase in rent!)
NO ONE sees this blog and no luck to you attempting to find it. All prayers are posted innocuously, vaguely, unobtrusively, and I think God loves that part of the whole thing. So for example, if I pray for Tess, I pray for "T," or if I pray for someone at work like my colleague Paul, I pray for PM. But the point is I pray. As many of you know I have spoken at many Christian events in the last year. Before each time I speak, I send a prayer to the blog from my Blackberry… instantly and moments before commencing my talk.
Rarely do I share the prayers to this blog… but I did during one period of time. Last summer at Fintry, Tess’ mom (Maureen aka MoZiLLa aka GG or Gorgeous Gran) and I sat at the end of the dock each night around 6 pm. We’d have a cocktail in hand, I’d have a cigar and my Blackberry. We’d spend an hour discussing potential prayer items while I captured them on Blackberry. When it was time to end our "cocktail hour" I’d "cc" Mo on the Blogger e-mail then press ‘send.’ Voila, said prayers sent and immediately posted to the prayer blog/journal from the end of a dock on Lake Okanagan. Mo would have a copy waiting for her when she returned to Yellowknife, too.
On occasion I return to the various posts to write what I call an "Epiblog." That’s a description of what happened afterwards… like when I prayed for Greg, a close friend of a fellow blogger last June… Greg died very suddenly and unexpectedly. That’s the danger with serious illness if God’s will is not to heal. I pray for healing but submitted to God’s will, and peace for the family, at the same time… this was my prayer in Greg’s last few days…
Heavenly Father, I lift up Greg for healing. Hit with cancer very suddenly that has now spread to his liver and inoperable, in the name of Jesus Christ Our Lord, I command the healing of Greg. I give Greg the strength to fight. I drive the cancer from his body. I banish evil from him and his surroundings. I protect with Your armour. I shower him, his family and friends with Your peace, love and grace. I heal Greg in Your Name, as only a miracle in the name of Jesus Christ Our Savior could do. I pray and command this now, Amen. If it is Your will that Greg shall die soon, I pray for peace, grace and understanding for his family and friends. Amen.
At 105 posts since June that’s about three prayers per week and not enough for sure. However, with the new accountability as the Prayer Leader for the WTE, I created a similar Prayer Journal for the WTE team to follow. Now… the amount of time I spend praying has increased exponentially… I suspect I’ll be at 7X per week (or more) once the team gets weaned onto the power of the prayer blog/journal. If any readers here would like to see the WTE prayer blog/journal, that one IS available for viewing. Just leave a comment below and I’ll send you the link. This week I’ll be password protecting the blog, however, if you truly are committed to unity and prayer of the Holy Spirit, I my friends, upon God’s guidance, hold the key to that blog. Just let me know and a new world will open to you.
And now folks, I am exhausted and need to sleep. To be truthful, the final writing of this blog has taken place after landing in Hong Kong. It’s Saturday night and the kids are in bed. But FYI… Sebastian did a major face plant into concrete today while at a birthday party. Seb was incredibly, incredibly brave and didn’t cry, but check back for pictures of his face in the next few days. I suspect that by Sunday evening he’ll look like someone who put half his face into a car’s window shield. Poor guy, but as I said, very brave. Another item for praise and prayer… there but for the Grace of God we go. I surrender myself to you oh Lord, just show me how. Amen.
And now, my coach Guy, it is time for you to de-lurk… for the record… the engines are revving.
This week Amsterdam…
I have another whirlwind trip this week. Sunday afternoon I flew to Singapore for a two-day meeting on Monday/Tuesday. Tuesday night I flew from Singapore to Amsterdam. I am currently waiting for my bag… Hong Kong and other Asia airports have spoiled me! There is some problem getting the bags off the plane to the baggage area. We’ve been waiting now for 45 minutes. An announcement was just made that we’d have to wait another 10 – 15 minutes. Grrrr.
It’s early morning here (6:30 AM) and I have to get to my hotel, shower/change, then get to the office for meetings. I am here for about 36 hours before heading back to Hong Kong. Meanwhile, Tess is away, too, so the kids have been left in the very capable hands of Lita and De.
The latest news on the home front is Jasper starting at school on Feb 4, right after Tess returns. He’ll start in Junior Kindergarten, at Small World Christian Kindergarten, just down the hall from Sebastian’s class. This is big news and wonderful that Sebastian & Jasper will have a few months going to school together before Seb moves on to his next school.
Olivia, 1993 to 2007
On Saturday we came bounding through the door after Jasper was discharged from the hospital to pick-up the shopping list and do a shop. Everyone was excited to see Jasper, and likewise JJ to see them, so there was lots of noise and energy. Sebastian blurted out, "Olivia told me this morning that she MISSED Jasper!" Really we answered back. That’s wonderful.
All the kids are almost trained to remove their shoes upon entering the flat, but today we were only there for a minute to drop off some overnight bags, grab the shopping list and be gone. Shoes ON, everyone. Shoes ON. We’re not staying.
Amidst the noise and commotion Tess saw Olivia on the sofa. Knowing glances were exchanged between Tess & Lita, the latter headed towards the cat. The excitement continued but a few seconds later Lita brushed by Tess and me to say very quietly, "Olivia’s not moving." I pivoted around to see her lying in one of her favourite spots on the sofa near the heater. As inconspicuously as possible I moved towards her, the kids tracking me as I did. Sure enough, she was still, her big gorgeous eyes still open.
We quickly went into "handle it" mode. Kids (quite unsuspecting of what we’d just figured out), Lita and De were sent down to the car to get strapped in and wait for us. I put Olivia’s body into a plastic bag, and then into the nicest shopping bag I could find. (Only the best for my girl.) A few calls were made about how to dispose of the body, legal obligations etc. I taped up the bag, putting it outside the back door. We left for our shopping excursion, returned, kids had lunch, trips down for nap, Seb and I did his homework and then Tess & I had "the talk" with Sebastian.
Sebastian handled it very well (better than me actually). We had known for a while that Olivia was circling the airport in preparation for the grand landing, and had forewarned Seb in the last few weeks that Olivia would not be with us forever. When we broke the news he was upset but seemed to feel a lot better knowing that we believe pets go to Heaven. The Bible doesn’t specifically say that, but I’m not about to debate that here. Considering that the promises and joys of eternal life surpass all expectations (according to The Bible), I am sure that would somehow include or cover off one’s love for a pet. Seb asked where Olivia would go – we explained to the vets. He asked if they would bring her back to life – we said no. Then the heaven discussion took place. He wanted to go to the vet with me. We said no, that wasn’t appropriate. "Okay, I want to go back to watching my video, now."
We originally got Olivia from the SPCA in June 1997. I took her back there knowing they would have the facilities to take care of her body. I walked in and complained she died. "Her warranty was ten years," I said.
Yes, Olivia was my girl. It was June 1997 right before the handover when Tess and I decided to get two cats. We each agreed that one person could choose one cat. Tess chose Cee Cee from the Kowloon SPCA, an energetic kitten. I chose Olivia from the Wanchai SPCA. About four years old, Olivia came from a neglected home and had been in the SPCA cattery three months. We were told this was her last month. The SPCA was running out of room and no one wanted Olivia, even though she was a gorgeous cat with rich, dark colours and big black pads on her paws. We went back a second time when I picked up Olivia in my arms. Olivia looked up into my eyes, made a little goat sound "maaah" and we took her home. I was so happy knowing we’d given this beautiful creature another chance. I wondered if it was life 5, 6, 7?
Considering that juncture in our lives it was probably incredibly irresponsible of Tess and me to get cats. Who knew how long we’d be in Hong Kong, or where we would go next. We made a pact that we would stick with the cats "until death do us part." There would be no second homes for either Cee Cee or Olivia – they were with us for life. I recall at the time thinking, "that probably means we’re staying in Hong Kong a while" considering the hassle it is to relocate animals to other countries. That thought was one of the bombs that went off in my head on Saturday afternoon – in a weird spiritual way, as if a message from God: now you’re not tied to Hong Kong. Woof… or should I say, mah!
The other small bomb that went off in my head was the last time a close pet died… the family dog, Pippin, in 1978. That afternoon I saw David Brightling. David is a long time friend from Toronto who I’ve known since I was nine years old and now lives in Hong Kong. Saturday afternoon, after my visit to the SPCA, David and I met for a beer and then went to see Casino Royale. David and I were also fond of another Caldwell family cat, Odysseus, who passed away in the early 90s.
What do I remember most about Olivia? The first mah in the SPCA. The fact she loved having her tummy rubbed, claws and legs outstretched in pure gluttony. She loved bacon, ham and tuna juice. The fact Olivia loved a good blast of hot air – whether coming from a heater, the computer or dehumidifier, sunshine pouring through the window, she was there. If Olivia knew about microwave ovens I am sure she’d have accidentally killed herself long ago. I remember the fact she loved sitting on top of us when we were lying on a sofa or bed and she was amazingly tolerant of babies, toddlers and young children. (At left: Olivia & Sela are passengers on Seb’s sofa minibus, Sept 2005.)
(Left: Olivia looking for a comfy warm place to sleep in Seb’s crib, January 2002.) I’ll miss the fact the Juniper senior HR team heard Olivia every Wednesday night on our conference calls. Her last call was a few weeks ago when she welcomed new guy on the block, Steve D. Olivia loved her Bizzy Kitty (cardboard clawing board), especially when it was covered in catnip. Yes, she enjoyed a buzz every once in a while!
Despite the drugs, Olivia was a very smart cat, too. One could talk to Olivia and she seemed to have this uncanny way of showing understanding. Olivia was loud… wow, was she loud – sometimes driving us crazy. While I was with Jasper in the hospital on Friday night, Olivia got loud again, this time as if she wanted to say something.
"Do you think on Saturday morning when Olivia suddenly started meowing that she knew she was dying," I asked Tess.
"Yes, I do," replied Tess who explained she gave Olivia lots of extra cuddles that evening.
While circling the airport the last few weeks we watched Olivia closely for signs of pain or discomfort. (Olivia had been remarkably healthy the entire time with us, barring a few extra grams on the tummy.) We’d both been around pets long enough that we instinctively knew the nature of Olivia’s symptoms was probably irreversible, and Olivia seemed to know that, too. Tess and I agreed we wanted Olivia to die at home, but if she started to suffer we’d head to the vets.
At home is where Olivia fell into her deepest sleep, in one of her favourite spots, on the sofa, next to the heater. What I will never forget was that last look on Olivia’s face. When we found her I don’t think she’d landed that long ago – maybe only twenty minutes or even less? Olivia’s eyes were still full of life, so much so I did a double take. Then I got it… the look in Olivia’s eyes was unmistakable and something I will never, ever forget… thank you for giving me another chance, Olivia was saying, thank you for loving me, for rubbing my tummy, for the heater… thank you for the 9th life. You’re welcome, Olivia, we love you, too.
Mah.
What do you want, Krispy Kreme?
Did you know it is officially De-lurkers Week? That means, MoZiLLa, that you have to comment on my blog again. And as for the rest of you, no more excuses that you don’t know how! Click the comment button at the end of this post.
Prior to the Saturday night sleepover, the kids were treated to an afternoon at Krispy Kreme donuts. Joel & Odila are very loving friends of ours from Union Church. Odila, a gorgeous and wonderfully self-expressed Brazilian, has commented on occasion that we are too harsh with our kids. "Your kids are wonderful, you are doing such a great job with them, and I think you are just a little too tough!" she’ll smile assertively. This has been going on now since Thanksgiving when we attended a large dinner at mutual friends. Parents reading this will know well the games their kids play when it comes to eating and learning about boundaries. At this particular dinner the trips were all acting up and Tess and I weren’t giving them an inch to play with. (At left, the lovely and talented Odila surrounded by donut munching kids!)
There have been several occasions since that dinner when we saw Odila & Joel, each time Odila teasing me about being too harsh with the kids. Finally one day she said, "You know what I would like to do? I would like to take all your kids to Krispy Kreme donuts for an afternoon where anything goes… they can eat and drink whatever and as much as they want!" We joked about such an excursion, and then finally last Saturday afternoon the idea was fully baked.
Around 3:30 pm we dropped off all four kids in Mid Levels at the newest Krispy Kreme location in Hong Kong. Two of the kids’ friends from Union Church also joined the donut-fest. After determining the kids would be okay without us – especially the trips since they don’t know Odila and Joel that well – Tess and I escaped to a nearby Starbucks for thirty minutes of Grande Non-Fat Vanilla Latte therapy. (At left, handsome and cuddly Joel, surrounded by sugar-charged kids.)
By the end of the afternoon Sebastian consumed three donuts and half a hot chocolate. Jasper and Sela each had two donuts. Sela had one (she wanted to watch her diet) and never again will we need to worry about the triplets not knowing who Joel & Odila are – they are forever burned into the triplets’ Krispy Kreme’d minds. (At left, Olivia, Christopher and Sebastian spinning from their sugar fix!)
After futile attempts to clean sugar off the kids – it was everywhere but that’s okay – we all sauntered off to a small playground across the street with a merry-go-round. Two speeds were permitted, slow for little kids and very fast for big kids. Jasper had one try at very fast and didn’t like when he reached terminal velocity. Remarkably, all donuts remained in small tummies. Sela demonstrated her gymnastic abilities to an adoring audience, including a final pose of "Ta daaa!" The kids had a terrific afternoon and all thanked Joel & Odila for the very special treat. They want this to be a regular event.
Speaking of wants, and National De-Lurkers Week, what do you want? Instead of setting New Year’s Resolutions last week I chose to stay the course of current goals. but upon reflection of the question, "what do you want?" I came up with the following answer.
Believe it or not, I want change. Right now I need to work… I want to change that so I don’t need to work, or that there is less pressure to work and realise financial goals. Right now I have several unpublished books trapped inside me… I want to change that and publish those books. Right now my family are healthy and generally happy, but we have lots of stress in our lives… I want to change that so we have more joy and happiness, less stress in our lives. Some of the stress is from clutter… I want to change that and get rid of the clutter. And finally, right now I am not pursuing my spiritual calling fast enough. I want to change that, too.
"They" often say that humans don’t like change. I’m not sure that’s true and certainly is not the case in my life! I want and will embrace change. Happy New Year everyone, what do you want?
Fair winds, Dad
Tonight just after Sebastian went to bed, my father called. I heard Tess from the other end of the flat exclaim, "Hi Doug, that’s terrific!" At first, I thought it odd he called because I knew he was away. Dad flew last weekend to Antigua to join some friends. For the next several weeks he’ll be helping them sail their Ontario 32 sailboat from Antigua to Cuba. Soon Tess appeared and handed me the phone. On the other end of the tinny-sounding line was Dad’s voice. He proceeded to describe how he was calling from on board the boat – using Skype – that was moored in English Harbour, Antigua.
You can just imagine what this did to the PYM in me (in 1996 Tess named me the Poignant Young Man, but I’m not so young anymore!) and I quickly replied, "I wish I was there!" I was there, too… in April 2002 for Antigua Race Week and again in March 2005 for a family reunion. In 2002 I took the two pictures seen here. The first picture shows English Harbour and Nelson’s Dockyard at sunset from Shirley Heights, one of the highest lookouts in Antigua. In the middle of this picture you’ll see a yellow dot… that’s where The Admiral’s Inn is located in the middle of Nelson’s Dockyard. I stayed there for eight days in 2002. My first morning in Antigua I woke-up, opened the window, and took the second picture of the sunrise at around 8 AM. That’s about when my dad would have been calling, and he could have been aboard any one of the boats in this picture.
Antigua holds a special place in my family’s hearts since my mother was born and raised there, moving to Toronto, Canada in her late teens. If you watch any of my video productions you’ll notice that many are tagged with "Marblehill Pacific Studios." Before moving to Hong Kong, I used to make audio tapes for myself and friends that were labeled Marblehill Studios. Marblehill is the name of the family farm in Omemee, Ontario named after my great grandparent’s property in Antigua called Marblehill. The buildings have long gone – as has the property from the family – but you can still find the area on most detailed Antigua maps today.
I sit here in Hong Kong at the start of a new year, thinking about my time in Antigua and how much time has flown since I was last there. I’ll also share with you a picture that my sister sent me a few days ago from when I was about Sebastian’s age… I guess the cigar afficianado started young… and that’s about as PYM as we’re gonna get for tonight. Meanwhile, Dad reported that all was well in Antigua, and high winds were preventing their departure for a day or two. Wishing you safe seas and fair winds, Dad.
First day of 2007
I was right, last night was a bit tough. I was asleep by about 11 pm. Tess lay next to me watching "Love Actually." At midnight the neighbourhood exploded in cheers that lasted at least an hour. Throughout the night Sela woke-up crying every 30 – 60 minutes. Tess took the 11 pm to 3 AM watch. I took the 3:30 to 7 AM watch. Finally at 7:15 I got the kids up and made French Toast while they watched Dora the Explorer.
Sela has been in a nasty mood all morning. She still has a fever, too. In the middle of my cleaning up and doing some chores I heard screaming and exclamations emanating from the playroom. I walked in to find Sela standing with her legs apart as if she had something stuck up her rear. Funny that, she did… I could see from behind a little sack of sh*t bulging through her pyjamas.
"Daddy, I had to do a poopers!" Sela screamed.
"Well Sela, you don’t have to wait for me. You can always go to the toilet on your own!" I explained. (We have a little stool – no pun intended – that makes it easy for the kids to get on and off the toilet.)
The stinky mess is now cleaned up and the girls changed. Jasper was on, off, on, off, on, off blah blah the toilet but alas, finally did his business. Tess and I have full blown colds, as does Sela, and Sebastian is now starting to heat-up. You know you’re a parent with your hands full when you can’t wait for naptime and bedtime… and it’s still only 9:39 AM!
