Silent mentorship

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Life, Treatment, Writing by

This past Wednesday woke me up bright and early to attend a WXN breakfast networking session. WXN is an organization that connects women in “management, executive, professional and board roles.” Basically that means there’s a lot of networking, acknowledgement of success, and mentoring opportunities. As I sat there during the breakfast in Ottawa’s Rideau Club, pushing around a sausage that I suspected contained gluten and listening to the panel of speakers, it made me think of some of the incredible people I’ve met on this journey through to recovery and beyond. Though none of us ask to join the cancer club, we’ve nevertheless been inducted – and I’ve got to say, bright-side-thinking, it’s connected me to some incredible people.

So am I an executive? No, no, no. I’m a writer who was invited by my mother (president of her own consultation and health company) to the breakfast. We planned on visiting the spa later in the day, but before going to the Nordic, she invited me along to this breakfast event. (I sound like Zsa Zsa Gabor – Hungarian, by the way –  living in the lap of luxury and flaunting it! But the spa is really quite a special treat. Those saunas are great for detoxification.) And therefore I found myself meeting and greeting with a sharp group of high-level women in this high-rise, thick curtained, wood panelled room with a view of Ottawa that would drop the jaw.

It was slightly surreal to meet people and say, “Hello, my name is Catherine. I’m a writer.” And hear them replay, “Hello my name is _______. I work in _______.”  It’s not a natural way to behave, I think. But then, networking is a funny business. Feels a bit like speed dating, eh? I’ve never speed dated – but I can imagine that they are quite similar. You meet, exchange information, get a sense of how/if their business fits your business, and then move on to meet others. Like my mother says, “you only need that initial impression. If you like them, ask to go for a cup of tea later!” Which makes good sense.

(Actually, I met some really cool women and it was interesting to learn how communications, writing, and social media fit into their businesses. One lady was head of communications – which makes me think, “wow.” And another woman had just started her own mentoring business and was looking for a blogger . . . so there you go, well worth an early morning.)

Speakers included Rear Admiral Jennifer Bennett, Chief Reserves & Cadets for the Canadian Navy, Judith Shamian, President & CEO of the Victorian Order of Nurses Canada, and Janet Longmore, President & CEO of Digital Opportunity Trust. And as the room drank their coffee, ate their eggs and tweeted on their ipads – these ladies were lead by Tobi Cohen of Postmedia news in a discussion about leadership, chasing opportunities and mentoring.

It was the mentoring that really caught my attention. Rear Admiral Jennifer Bennett  – a women very high up in the Canadian Navy – spoke about the silent mentor. This is someone who sets the example in the way they handle situations, support others, forges opportunities, etc. And it made me think of the men and women I’ve met over these past two years who have inspired me with their confidence and drive.

I think of . . .

. . . My surgeon. He inspired me with his self-confidence as he quietly, but most certainly, let me know he was the best in terms of mastectomies. I’ve never claimed to be the best at anything, so seeing his confidence was such a different perspective. It made me wonder, what am I the best at? His approach was totally outside my normal way of thinking, but it caused me to consider that being very, very good is not necessarily cause to act very, very humble. Okay, so this doctor was quiet and not showing – but humble? Well . . . he wasn’t going to self-depreciating, that’s for sure. And really, why should he? He was the best.

. . . The blogger whose site was about moving beyond cancer. I’ve been following her webpage ever since diagnoses and through it connected to a larger #bcsm community. Back when my life was first being blown to bits with shock, fear and oncoming chemotherapy . . . I found hope in her journey beyond all those troubles. There was another side, and I could reach it too.

. . . my friends at Facing Cancer Together, who are so quick to respond to questions – go off around the world on journey, fight to make things better, give care to a loved one, stay strong for their children, defy the odds and succeed beyond expectation, and simply tell their story. People on this site lead with courage. It gives me strength to be open and honest.

. . . That woman who went into chemo every week cracking jokes and looking, quite frankly, very pretty. She was staring chemo in the face and spitting at it, laughing at it. Clearly this was her her defence, and I know it wouldn’t work for me (because makeup and nice outfits were the last things on my mind), but seeing her determination made me smile. And goodness knows, it’s good to smile.

. . . The bloggers, the tweeters, the facebookers, the friends stopping by with food, the family writing letters and talking on skype, the husband finishing his PhD . . . the people who made life so much more bearable!

You never know where strength can derive, and I guess it’s also easy to not realize the strength you provide. But people are wonderful, people have been wonderful. . . and I’m quite thankful to my silent mentors for all they’ve been able to share. They’ve challenged me to think differently.

And so, as I finished my green tea at the WXN breakfast and passed out a few business cards, I reflected on the community of woman, and how good it was they wanted to grow with one another. And then I reflected on this community, and how lucky I am to have met so many incredible silent mentors.

So thank you, everyone, for giving me those slices of perspective, signs of love and friendship, flashes of hope, and amazing patience . . . because you’ve read to the end of this post – and I appreciate that very, very much.

Now I’m wondering: am I alone in all this inspiration, or do you have your mentors too? Who are your mentors (silent or otherwise) and how have they impacted your life? Do share – cause I’d love to hear your story.

Till next week!

Catherine

 

The first sign of spring

Posted in Canada, Fun, Life by

Spring is peering round the corner. Just yesterday afternoon my little brother and I were cruising for some groceries (i.e. grocery shopping) at the huge waste-of-space outdoor mall in Kanata. Driving into the Centurm (the mall) we spotted a sign:

“Look at that sign!”

“Which sign?”

“Right there”

“There’s three signs!”

“The second one.”

(pause for observation)

“Wooohooo!”

“Yah!”

“Alright”

“Awesome!”

“Wooohoo!”

The mall has just become a little less of a waste-of-space with the recent addition of a Basking Robbins Ice Cream shop. I adore BR mostly for the childhood memories, but also largely for the delicious flavours of ice creamed delights inside their store. Personal favourites: Cookies and Cream, Peanut Butter and Chocolate, Jamoca Almond Fudge, and Pralines and Cream.

Fast forward past the grocery shopping, and we are driving around this open-concept outdoor mall thing looking for the Baskin Robbins. It’s conveniently next to the LCBO (liquor store). We park, go into the Baskin Robbins, and two minutes later exit the store with one cone and one small cup. Then, wrapped in our winter jackets and wearing heavy winter boots, we lean against the LCBO window where the sun is hitting and enjoy our treat. 

Ice cream in February . . . who would have imagined?

So I heard that the ground hog saw his shadow, but forget that because we ate ice cream outside. Now that’s a real sign of spring. It’s coming people. Get yourselves ready.

P.S. Happy Valentine’s day!

A golden kind of silence

Posted in Fun, Life, Love by

Okay, so I wouldn’t go quite so far to say Zsolt and I are cheap people. We’re simply thrifty. Go to a restaurant and skip dessert; split on the lunch buffet instead of an evening meal;. enter a mall with clear goals and no additional purchases (almost, I mean . . . if it really looks cute, I might bend.); never order alcohol; check the charity shops before the outlet stores . . .

And this morning, in honour of upcoming Valentine’s Day, we “went to a movie before noon, so we can get half off the tickets.”

Sounds like fun, eh? 🙂 It was.

This morning, close to noon, we attended a showing of The Artist at our local AMC theatre. This is a show that features a charming male lead who, in The Artist, is a popular silent film start. Talkies enter the picture and his career goes crashing down. Meanwhile, he meets this young and equally charming actress whose career is on the up. They don’t spend the entire moving making passionate love to one another, but they are present in each other’s lives – even if from a distance.

Zsolt and I were enthralled with this picture from the opening scene. It’s sweet. It’s funny. It’s very clever. Frankly, I’d say it’s a perfect Valentine’s day picture simply because of its light, humorous and love-struck aspects, but also because of the quality. Quality film, no doubt.

Just because romantic comedies are cheesy as a rule doesn’t mean there cannot be some shining exceptions.

Once upon a time, in a memory far away, I was reading some interview with the Canadian author Modicai Richler. And in this interview, he talks about a letter he once found that his son had written to his school. Basically, the son is swearing and angry and ripping up the school, and plans on sending in the letter. Mr Richler reads it, and instead of getting angry with his son’s horrible langauge . . . he edits the letter. All the “Fuck yous,” and “Fuck this” and “Fuck everyones” were removed. All except for one at the end, where he left a final ‘Fuck You’. Passing the letter back to his son, he explains that when going for impact: less is more.

I’ve never forgotten that. It’s one reason I detest the triple, or even double, exclamation mark (!!!). (Except when in brackets; you can get away with anything if it’s place between two brackets.) And it’s one of the reasons that The Artist is such a success despite being a mainly silent movie. The music takes on more meaning. The movements are more important. The looks are deeper. And subtle background noises suddenly gain huge significance.

A movie about silent films, which is silent, and which struggles within that silence . . . Gosh, it was good.

Just go and see it, eh? I could write more – but what’s the point? There’s a cute dog, fabulous physicality, great style . . . but none of this matters unless you see the movie. (And try for before noon, if you want to catch that discount.)

So, that was our Valentine’s Day adventure. Two days early because we don’t want to pay extra on the actual day. And yeah, we’re a little stingy . . . but I still enjoy a beautiful moment. This film was full of beauty. As was the experience of snuggling up to my husband in a dark theatre, and enjoying our splurge purchase of pop corn.

Lovely date, no? I hope your Valentine’s day is just as nice. 🙂

(And after the film, we attempted to walk around outside, but Zsolt was wearing his street shoes – no boots – and basically froze to the point of non-enjoyment. Therefore, we hid in Walmart and called home for a ride. I felt like a 14 year old again.)