Sunday, July 17, 2016


Fresh farm produce in exchange for work
Lana'i, Hawaii, c. 2008

Food. Sustenance. It is the fuel for our bodies, our minds and, yes, I believe, our souls. They call it soul food for a reason, right? So, why does food cause so many people so much trouble?

First, I want to acknowledge the biggest problem around the world with respect to food: hunger. Millions of people around the world, from the richest countries to the poorest, experience hunger. In Canada, there are many poverty stricken families with insufficient income to provide food for their children and themselves. There are places around the world that suffer from this appalling and unnecessary condition. I do believe that there is enough for everyone, but some people are just too greedy and selfish to share what they have while wasting enough in a year to feed a family of four. We all need to consider this and choose how we move forward.

Secondly, I acknowledge that these are just my thoughts - I'm no food expert and I know that millions of people suffer with disordered eating and I have only a cursory understanding of the path the people who suffer with eating walk. I send each of you love on your journeys.

I love food. I love to eat. Often, I have loved to eat too much of foods which taste delicious, but are silent killers. They get in with us on their good looks and charm and then start tearing us down from the inside out. I don't have to tell you what they are. I don't need to set up a mug shot of the villainous french fry and decry its offenses. I am quite certain we are all aware of this. 

Recently, I had a wee health scare, enough to make me really stop and think ...again - because I have been here before. What is my relationship with that which I put into this incredible, hard-working machine I call my body? What is my relationship with my food, my sustenance? 

I want to talk about the concept of treats. Through the passage of time and the industrial revolution, treats have become processed foods: chocolate bars, chips, candy, ice cream, cup cakes and, in my case, boozy treats. All of these are delicious to the taste buds, but can be hard as heck on our machines, our bodies, particularly in excess and particularly for those of us with addictive personalities (usually folks who have suffered and need self-soothing). Read Dr. Gabor Mate! Back in the day, a treat might have been an exotic fruit - a banana or an orange - sweet and delicious, expensive and rare. 

As a result of my scare, I have chosen to cut out most of the stuff that will cause me pain: dairy, coffee, chocolate and all unhealthy fats. It's not been so bad and, yes, I'll still have a drink now and then but nothing excessive. I have found the change to be quite good so far - particularly if I pack my own lunches for work and I am not forced to eat the quick and easy foods presented at my workplace. I am not counting calories, but have already dropped a pound or two and I haven't even upped my exercise yet. I am changing my perspective to look at the natural bounty of the earth as the treats and the rest as junk that will do me harm.

I think a huge part of my relationship with food is indicative of my relationship with my body. I am overweight. I know this to be true. My knees and back hurt more because I am carrying around about 30 to 40 pounds on top of my optimum weight and it is causing me pain and discomfort. I do not enjoy pain; therefore, I am choosing to make a change because I want to have less pain and less pain will make me happier. 

I don't deny that there is also an aspect of my physical appearance that excites me about losing weight. I am not proud of it but I want to wear different clothes than I can wear now and I am not comfortable wearing them with my current body size - not necessarily because of how they look (although I think that is part of it), but because they are uncomfortable for me in this current iteration of myself. 

It's very hard to approach it without feeling like I have failed myself somehow or that my body, injuries, health issues and menopause have betrayed me, but I acknowledge that I have been more in my head for the past five years or so than I have been in my body. My mind is sharp. I have worked through a great deal of my life's mental traumas and finished the first draft of my novel, but I forgot to bring my body along for the journey in the course of it all. I am fortunate to have supportive people in my life who will always accept and love every iteration of my physical, emotional and spiritual self. It's been a long and winding road! 

I have gone from being an incredible athlete - able to surf, swim over two kilometres, run 5 kilometres and lift epic amounts of weight to someone who now sounds like my dad used to when he was getting out of his chair and I feel like it is way too soon for me to get there. I can do better and I can do it for me. I can do it because I want to be independent and strong and able and well. I want to be grateful to this physical temple that has carried me through all that my life has brought over 54 years even though, sometimes, I have treated it like "the temple of doom!"

Awareness. For me, that is where I have started again and, with great effort on my part, without judgement of how I got here. I am doing my best and every day that looks different. I am who I am. I have done well at surviving and, at times I have thrived, despite "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune..."

I often speak in my blog about kindness and acceptance. Let us not forget that this can, and perhaps must, start with ourselves. Let us treat ourselves to our own well-being. Let the treat be wellness. Let the self-soothing behaviours be done with love. In fact, perhaps we can make the self-soothing behaviours be self-love. You are worthy. You are perfect on your path. 

I don't need a brownie to comfort me. I need to know that I am worthy, that I am loved - firstly by me and then by others. I need to remember that I am whole without another person to tell me I am. I am strong. My wellness counts on it and this body of mine deserves my best efforts as a thank you for all it has done and continues to do for me. Really, It is our bodies that are our unconditional lovers of our essence. They do their best for us always. They stand by us with their every last piece of energy. They carry our souls through this life selflessly and, at times, at the expense of their own infrastructure. 

I hope this makes sense. It is starting to, for me, and I am grateful to my body for keeping going and staying with me through all the times I have ignored and mistreated her. It's time for me to take care of my body as it has taken care of me for so long. Our bodies are our mothers to our souls. Let us treat them well for they have given us life and carried us through our greatest pleasures and difficulties. 

Today, say thank you to your body with some healthy fuel. Say thank you to mother earth for providing that fuel and give back to her. Be grateful for what you have and work together, in love, for the collective wellness of the universal energy of which we are all a part. 

For all of those with insufficient means, I will do what I can to help as I hope everyone who reads this will. We must think of one another and serve one another. There is enough if we all share. If one is suffering, we all suffer. Let's work together to end the suffering.

The World Food Programme is part of the United Nations system and is voluntarily funded. There are many other ways to share what you have with others, including food banks, for immediate aid, and local meal programmes that always need support. Here is a list of some of the options in Victoria, BC:

For great reads on wellness and healthy eating, check out April Danann's Blog

Gillian Cornwall, c. July 17, 2016

Banana Trees, Lana'i, Hawaii
Gillian Cornwall, c. 2008

Sunday, July 10, 2016


Pride - as opposed to shame or social stigma. We took the word and marched with it. 

Pride. It's not about tolerance. No-one wants to be tolerated. It's like putting up with something irritating or bad. 

I don't want to be tolerated. I want to be celebrated. Every soul on this earth, all living things can be celebrated - even for one thing, even for potential. From the smallest of creatures to those of the grandest stature, we can find commonalities and differences. Sure - we all just want to live, but let's make that simply the starting point rather than the final goal. 

My culture, my people, have invaded just about every nation in the world in an effort to make other people "like us" because we believed we had it all going on and it would just be much easier if everyone behaved like us.If everyone had to look different then at least we could behave similarly - follow the same religious principles, same political structure and the same lust for land and what we perceived to be "riches." How could one tiny island of people contain so much ego - or was it fear? I'm not proud of that. All that being said, we British have done some pretty cool stuff over time as well and when I go back to that land of my ancestors I feel a different connection to the land of my people. I'm not sure it's national pride, but it is definitely a sense of connection to my roots.

It's not that I'm particularly "proud" of being a lesbian either. In fact, decades of abuse, beatings, marginalization and oppression have made me kind of self-phobic / homophobic. I am eroded and worn by the experience of trying to be myself and love whom I choose. It has been a lifetime fight and I am worn thin, but for all you right-wing, fundamentalist haters out there, don't think this means you have won. It only means you are bullies. I know who I am. I am proud of surviving and, at times, thriving, of moving the cause forward for those younger folks who have followed me with what I hope to be an easier path. I am proud of the brave souls who ploughed a path before me when it was still illegal to be gay in Canada.

I do worry that all the changed laws have only created a veiled acceptance and the same repugnance for those who identify as LGBT* is only held under a blanket of law. I worry that the hate is more insidious. People are aware that it is illegal to commit acts of hate and discrimination so they find ways around it - excuses for taking away your employment, for not serving you well in a store, for excluding and marginalizing. 

I know things have changed and the battles have been well-fought by centuries of people who had to find their way around the hate to the time of Stonewall and the people who stood their ground publicly and said no. I remember when it was a PRIDE march rather than a parade - when you took your life and career in your hands by making that walk. Let us not forget the millions of lesbians and gays around the world who remain imprisoned under a death sentence because of who they choose to love. There are more than seventy-six countries where it is illegal to be gay. There are ten countries where it remains punishable by death.

It is time for me to pull back from the fight somewhat. The battle scars have begun a ceaseless ache in my being and the costs keep going up. It seems the more honest I have been with what I have faced and continue to face, the greater the chicanery and subterfuge used to perpetuate hate and discrimination. So, it is time for me to lay down my sword (aka flag) for the time being and hope that it is picked up by anyone and everyone who is appalled by fear and the hate it creates. 

It's not that I am climbing back into the closet, far from it. I am making way for younger and stronger warriors to lead the charge. The whole battle analogy is weird anyway as I haven't ever raised a hand to defend who I am, with the exception of the instances in the early days where I had to defend myself against the physical blows and sexual assaults instigated by men who thought it was their job to show me what I was supposed to be like as a "real" woman. They are abusers and criminals against love and peace. 

I am a warrior, a survivor, a lover and a philosopher. I am a healer and a teacher, a spiritual guide and a storyteller. I am your daughter, your mother, your sister and your wife. I am a human animal just as you and deserving of peace, kindness and love. I give these things to myself and your hate will never finish me. Of these things, I am proud. I am proud of my physical womanhood. I have no need for the social construct you call gender for that is only a political lie to keep women down. I am a free soul, a superhero of love and of all the things I wonder in the world, it's "Why the heck are you so afraid of me?" 

May your PRIDE come from the knowledge of the worth of your life as it relates to how you value all life, how you raise each other up and celebrate one another for your beautiful uniqueness and difference, without the need to push another down to do so. 

In loving memory of every soul who has been murdered, jailed, beaten, outcast, tortured and marginalized for who they are. In other words, this is dedicated to every LGBT* human throughout time. 

As always, thanks for reading. 

Gillian Cornwall, c. July 10, 2016

Sunday, July 03, 2016

It's All Good

Tod Inlet - Gowland Tod Park, Vancouver Island
Gillian Cornwall, c. March 2016

"It's all good." 

How many times do we hear that phrase bantered around? If someone tells us they are sorry they were late, sorry they hurt our feelings, often we assume the best and say, "Don't worry; it's all good." Sometimes, the actions of others impact us and we feel worthless, saddened and invalidated.

How do we integrate the hard stuff of life: pain, suffering, heartache, trauma, sickness and loss into the "it's all good" mode of thinking?

Maybe we can't. Loss is loss. Feeling sh*t is just that. 

The thing is, we are created with the full suite of emotional response. Why? Quite simply, it is because we are made to experience the entire suite of experiences, from love to loss, pleasure to pain, in sickness and in health, blah, blah, blah, as the vows go... 

It interests me to note that when I am having trouble and I express it, whatever kind of trouble it may be, some folks are hell bent at looking at the bright side before acknowledging the hurt, pain or suffering. Perhaps it is just too difficult to see, to difficult to acknowledge and accept that you are hurting without wanting to "do something" about it. Anger, fear, sorrow - often thought of as "negative" emotions - are simply the flip side experience of their "positive" counterparts: love, joy, comfort and so on. 

Personally, I find that it is such an honest and heartfelt experience of truth when someone tells me how they REALLY are and I don't try to fix it. I think it is important to be present and to actively listen and accept a person with all of their emotions - that is humanity. To blanket suffering with platitudes and a "glass half full" mentality is not a panacea for pain. 

We needn't get into the crevasse with someone when they are down, nor do we need to tell them that they will have an awesome story to tell if they live through it ....while they are stuck in there and terrified and we are up top eating a sandwich. 

I find what is most helpful for me is finding a willing ear, acceptance that I have fallen, acknowledgement that I am hurt and a light shining - maybe helpful comments and pointing to good, solid footholds to guide me out - for what good is the person that simply jumps in with you and says, "I have no way of really helping but, at least we're in here together!"

I need to work on my empathy because I've joined too many people in the crevasse over the years and it has made me extra wary of loaning a hand and getting pulled in. I think of what they tell you in water rescue when someone is drowning: you need to be able to keep yourself from being pulled under. Perhaps just throwing a flotation device and saying "See you on shore!" is a bit of the opposite extreme... Like everyone, I'm a work in progress. 

Additionally, I may need to keep my truth to myself a bit more instead of relentlessly sharing every single thing I perceive to be true. Often people will say they don't mind, and they may believe it, but I suppose spewing your truth like a geyser, as regularly and magnificently as Old Faithful, may be a bit overwhelming for those who are near and dear. 

If I were to wrap this post up in one sentence: "It's okay to feel bad and not pretend you feel good." 

...And because I can never do anything in just one sentence, it's also okay to take a break from feeling bad and go try to enjoy yourself for awhile. It sets things on their heads and can give us new perspectives. 

You needn't fake it til you make it. Be you. Trust yourself. You are perfect on your path. Just keep walking, one step at a time and allow people to light the way for you when the darkness comes. Maybe other folks can't tell you exactly where you should be going, but they can offer a smile, a light or a helping hand. 

So, what does it mean? "It's all good." For me, it means all of your feelings, all of your emotions, are good - when you let them help you down your own particular path to enlightenment and peace with an open and loving heart, replete with self-acceptance and respect for the path of another.

As always, let's walk our paths, side by side, for as long as it is good for each of us, with good hearts and good intent.

With love.

-Gillian Cornwall, c. July 3, 2016

From Sheila's Garden - Somerton, Somerset, UK
Gillian Cornwall, c. September 2015

Sunday, June 26, 2016

Be Brilliant, Bold and Mitigate Expectations

Maui - North Shore
Oil Pastel on Paper | Approx. 8"x 10"
Gillian Cornwall, c. 2012

I originally posted this piece in 2014. I wanted to reflect on it from my perspective today. I hope it gives something to you too: 

My brother once told me, "Expect nothing and hope for the best." Many seasons have passed since he imparted this sage advice and, to this day, hope and expectation can blur on my page like once vivid watercolours, running from brilliant individual rivulets into a murky pool.

Love. Fear. Love. Fear. Love. Fear. Love. Fear. Love. Fear. Love.

There they go again, marching across the page, weaving together the precept of every piece I've ever written. Tiresome, isn't it? ...but also true. With every step, every breath, every crossroad, we must decide which path to tread. 

This brings me to the title of this week's piece. Let's look at the parts:

Brilliant: bright, clever, impressive, excellent - from the French brillant: shining

Bold: willing to take risks, confident, courageous

Mitigate: make something (bad) less severe or lessen the gravity of something painful; from Latin mitigat- softened, alleviated

So, it looks like I'm saying: shine and be courageous but make sure you do it as your truth rather than from a desire to receive a response or change from something or someone because if you expect results, you can be disappointed or hurt. Yes, that is what I meant. Good. Sorry to take you down that road with me but I wanted to make sure I was going where I need to go with this. 

Hopev. want something to happen or be the case 

Interestingly, as a verb, hope relates more to want than expectation; whereas, as a noun, expectation is dominant in the use of the word

Expectv. regard something as likely to happen

My brother's wise words convey that it is okay to want something but not to rely on it. I agree with this too.

Recognize that the greater your brilliance, boldness and joie de vivre, the more likely it is that you will be met with an equal and opposite energy of naysayers and folks who need to shadow themselves from your light. I want to remind you that reaction is not a measurement of the value of your action. If your intent is for the positive, if your action comes from a place of love rather than fear, then you may listen and consider but it is not for you to own or carry the reaction of another. 

So if you shine, shine. Be bold. Explore. Your light may be the very thing that someone needs to light their path or it may take you to a place that opens your heart and soul to reaches you have never imagined. Do not let your brilliance and boldness be extinguished by other people's fears. Your light is a foundation of greatness, of living a full and passionate life. Do not walk your path as though it is a red carpet, looking for applause or judgement. Walk your path for the journey, for the delight and learning of life. I'll see you along the way. 

-Gillian Cornwall, August 24, 2014*

* Since I wrote this back in 2014, I feel I have changed. Perhaps my hope is less vivid in the spectrum. I see so much fear around me and everyone struggling to maintain what they see online as the way a person should live if they are to be considered a success. My experience lately has shown what lengths people will go to in order to "win."  I see less care for one another and more greed. I hope it is just in my realm and not worldwide, but I am not hopeful. Out of being brilliant, bold and mitigating expectations, I feel only capable of the last.

May we have less fear and more love on each of our paths. That which we hold too tightly will only result in loss. The tighter we try to hold on to that which we have, the more likely it is to slip through our fingers to where there is room for it to be without pressure. Let go. Don't buy in to the fear. Houses, X-Box, private school - it's all for naught if you believe it is a must have. May we make more decisions out of love and less out of fear. Wishing each of you some freedom in letting go of fear. Share what you have if you can give it freely and without expectation of return on investment - other than the good feeling of having given something. Avoid resentment. It is toxic and will poison your well-being. 

Be well and live with as much freedom as you can and, to all the folks that keep shining in their brilliance, thank you for your light. 

-Gillian Cornwall, re-posted on June 26, 2016

Surf - Oil Pastel on Paper 
Approx. 8" x 10"
Gillian Cornwall, c. 1988

Sunday, June 19, 2016

Fathers and Family Memories

My father, my brother and me
Probably in The Muskokas, Ontario
Circa 1965-66

Every time I look at this picture, I laugh to myself. It evokes exactly what it was like when my brother and I were little kids. I have two older brothers as well, one of whom may have been taking this picture, or it could have been taken by my mother. In this image, my dad is probably taking us swimming at the lake. My parents both loved to swim and my youngest brother and I took instruction at the local pool and at the camp we attended from age 4 onward until we were sufficiently competent not to drown ourselves without great effort. My brother is being a ham. He loved to be a ham. I was likely being attacked by mosquitoes or blackflies; they thrived on my lily white complexion. 

The reason I put this picture up is that without these old photos and our home movies, which I recently watched with my girlfriend, who was seeing them for the first time, I would only remember the childhood hardships I faced. I wouldn't remember that my family had two sides. Not only were there epic battles, difficulties, inherited patterns of abuse and ineptitude in dealing with the cycle of abuse, there were also huge efforts put in by both my parents and my eldest brother Chris (RIP) to give us two youngest kids the time of our lives. We had great vacation adventures throughout Ontario, the eastern United States and in England - the homeland of my family.

Without watching these home movies now with people who love me, I wouldn't see my childhood through their eyes. Granted, it's not like we filmed the bad times - that would have been totally weird, but it really makes a difference to see the gargantuan effort my mum put into birthdays and Christmases. My girlfriend pointed out how many cakes were made by my mum, with four children having birthdays and Christmas cakes and puddings made every year - taking weeks and weeks to prepare and plan parties and buy presents. Every summer, they took us away with them to cottages and on road trips - sometimes on business trips during the summer as well. They both worked - running their own company from the time they returned from England for the second time in 1961, with my mother heavily pregnant with me, entertaining the husband and wife of the parent company in England until mere weeks before she was to give birth. We were always impeccably dressed, heading to camp, riding lessons, theatre productions, restaurant experiences, day trips to different gardens and on trips through North America and England. They did a HUGE amount for us and included us in many unique learning experiences. I am endlessly grateful for the cultural experiences they provided. It must have been exhausting with four kids and a business.

My father supported my leisure pursuits. He took me to every soccer practice and game - shared tips and laughed at my tenacity in the net. I remember the time I dove for the ball to prevent a goal just as the player was going to kick, taking the kick to my mouth, leaving my teeth slightly chipped and my gums bleeding. My coach came over and told me not to be a baby. I lost it and told him to "f*** off" - which did not please him very well. My father tried to be upset but was also holding back laughter as his eight or nine year old daughter was behaving like an FCUK player already. He did make me go to my coach's house that night to apologize so I could learn a lesson in team spirit and so I could keep my place on the team. He said it was probably best not to mention the incident to my mum if I wanted to continue to play. I never told her.

He was the one who would have bought me the stellar Pearl red sparkle surf drum set I coveted in the window of the Richmond Hill Drum Shop. My mum ...well, not so keen as it wasn't "a very lady-like instrument" to  play. I still think I could have been a rock star and did in fact build a set in the basement out of pots and pans and buckets and tin pie plates - needs must.

I still think my mum had the hardest role. She lost the love of her life in the war and married my father afterward. They look pretty happy in the beginning and when we were young but things kind of went pear shaped for them after that. It had to be so hard for her - losing her first love, giving up any idea of being independent in the late 1940s, getting married, having kids and working full time while trying to maintain a household and half of the family business. I was pretty happy when they finally split up and home was fairly quiet again. I didn't actually want to live with either of them but never said anything as I was aware that would have hurt their feelings. My dad didn't offer to take us so we went with my mum. She did her best and raised us well as a single mum with a small stipend of child support. 

The thing is, when we were little - there were good days and bad. Both my parents brought there own history of abuse into the relationship and the subsequent family. People back then didn't really do therapy and even when women started to look to it for survival and recovery, men did not so much. Generations of history told them to "man up" and get over it. Don't cry. Don't complain. Laugh it off ...and strike out, often in abhorrent ways as a result of suppression of emotions and pain.

It makes me sad that in this day and age, many men around the world still shun their hearts. You are allowed to feel, you do get to reach out for help and you do have a chance to stop the hurt. 

My wish for every single male out there on this Fathers' Day is that you can stop and reflect on the beliefs that you carry about yourself as a male and think of your place in society. Think about the ways you hurt and the ways you may have hurt others and find healthy, positive ways to move forward with a peaceful heart and spirit. Perhaps some of you have suffered at the hands of your own fathers or wish you could express your feelings in a safe and peaceful way. Give yourself permission to do so. You will benefit from letting go of what is not working for you in your life.

I'm not a male bodied person and I do not subscribe to gender roles so maybe I'm the last person in the world who should be taking about this. I only know what I have seen in my own family. I believe the males with whom I grew up had so much potential, but the harms they experienced, passed on from one generation to the next, perhaps as sons of warriors, left them hurt and ill-equipped to deal with those hurts. This means that their hurts held them back and manifested in behaviours which held them back even more. They are intelligent and talented; however, a large amount energy goes into trying to find ways to cope with their individual hurts without healthy expression and assistance in processing. 

As a woman, I "allowed" myself to go to counselling and bore the thousands of dollars of cost to keep myself from being a complete emotional right-off as an adult and I am still a work in progress, so I can't imagine what it would be like to disallow myself the healing path I took and still be an okay, non-violent person. I feel sad that some men won't allow themselves the space for healing - not only for them but for everyone they encounter thereafter because the dis-function leaks. It comes out and not in good ways: spurts of anger, violence, self-harm, addiction... the list goes on. 

The fact is, if you aren't processing the harm in some way, it will manifest in illness, violence and harm - to self or others; therefore, now, when I think of the term, "man-up", I think of it as dealing with your history, processing your pain, crying, and feeling what it is you have experienced - both good and bad. I wish this gift for everyone on this fathers' day. 

For my part, I'm grateful for the kind and loving things my father did and I am frustrated by the unkind, abusive things he did and the impact of those acts - it didn't have to be that way and it is up to this generation to stop the cycle. I've done my best to end it and pass on to the young people in my life the lessons I have learned. May we all do our best to love, learn and recover. 

-Gillian Cornwall, c. June 19, 2016

A family vacation in England (the homeland)
Photo - BF Cornwall, c. 1966

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Love in the Thought

Rainbow Steps
Gillian Cornwall, c. Spring 2015

This is in particular dedication to the 49 who were murdered and the more than 50 who were injured by a single gunman at Pulse gay nightclub in the early hours of June 12, 2016 (CBC News). May we find ways to love and keep the light, in the face of fear, anger and hate. With love and condolences to the friends and loved ones who remain in the wake of this heinous act. 

"The thought manifests as the word,
The word manifests as the deed,
The deed develops into habit,
And the habit hardens into character.
So watch the thought and its way with care,
And let it spring from love
Born out of concern for all beings."
K. Sri Dhammananda
-How to Live Without Fear and Worry

There is no light so great as the light of the universe that shines through me. With this light, I have all that I need. That which is not held cannot be taken. I will continue to walk my path of truth regardless of the decisions of others. I cannot be made to act against my heart. The light of life shines through me eternal. There is peace in this. No matter what is said or done around me, I act in my best truth and light. The breath of all that is and ever has been or will be flows through me. I am one with all. Peace and light are my path.

Gillian Cornwall, rewritten, June 12, 2016
Original post, May 24, 2012

Above all else, let there be love.
Gillian Cornwall, c. 2015

Sunday, June 05, 2016


Oak Bay Tea Party
Gillian Cornwall, June 4, 2016

How many of us require a stuffed pig wearing a T-shirt that reads, I love bacon?

Stuff. We all have some of it. Some of us have a great deal of it, some of us less of it. 

I am not fond of stuff for the most part, though I have some stuff of which I am quite fond. My stuff even contains stuffed animals - the two I've had since childhood - Lamby (is a lamb - perhaps I wasn't a very imaginative child) and Teddy (my bear - enough said). 

So, why do I get to talk about stuff when, clearly, I have it and hold onto it? The fact is, I have stuff that I:
  1. use,
  2. keep as a reminder of a time or activity,
  3. am trying to pawn of on someone else because I don't want it anymore and
  4. that which I have to take somewhere for someone else to use.
I love getting rid of stuff. I have a rule that if I haven't looked at it, used it, worn it, shared it, talked about it or engaged with it in any way in a year, it goes. 

I just don't want the responsibility. I suppose you could say I have commitment issues. Perhaps I just like to be able to pack up and go quickly and easily. For the first time in my life, at 54, I have actively sought out furniture that I like and want in my home - stuff that I will keep for as long as I have a home. Perhaps, I now feel the need for a little more comfort and a little less speed. I'm okay with that. 

I have lived in Victoria for just under 22 years. I have moved approximately a dozen times - maybe a little more. I don't feel like counting. What I am trying to say is that my time here has been a bit nomadic. I stayed in one place for five or six years, but other than that, one or two at the most. Moving is a great way to keep stuff to a minimum. Less to move and always purging the unused and unwanted. 

In my life, experiences have far outweighed my desire for belongings. I have only ever owned two cars ...and one scooter. I have never owned my own home. It's Victoria - who actually owns their home when the average house price is over half a million dollars?  I don't make a ton of money but I have had enough for a roof over my head, basics and occasional treats since I have lived here. 

Rather than buying things, I have had adventures and helped others where I could. The things I have spent money on or gone into debt for have been trips to Hawaii, continental America and the UK. I know that is a luxury for which many people on Earth could never even hope. I am aware of my privilege in this regard. 

I like original art. Financial folks say this should be the last thing you invest in for your financial portfolio. I fail. I have bought art and I have been given art. Lucky me! I would rather wait and buy an original painting, or at least a quality print, over work that is mass produced. 

I guess I prefer quality over quantity when it comes to stuff. I do not care for that which I deem substandard. I have high standards and expectations for myself, my belongings, my friends, colleagues - to a fault. Sometimes this works against me. I mean, how dare I, really? What right have I to set the bar so high and why do I insist on this for myself? I guess that's just my "stuff" and I am trying to work it out. I am a work in progress. 

I guess the reason I am writing this today is, after going to the fair yesterday, I walked away with some great memories, some FREE stuff (which is always great stuff until you get sick of it and either give it away or use it up or throw it away ....but it was FREE so it was kind of awesome and mostly useful. One of my favourite parts is taking photos of all of the old school rides and signage and lights to share online. Also, it was the best people watching ever:

That's me on the left - with a couple of new friends...
Oak Bay Tea Party 
Photo by: T. Fitch, c. June 4, 2016

Maybe, like everything, stuff is all about balance: enough of it to feel comfortable and not so much that it is a burden and a time thief through its maintenance.  

Dare I be so bold as to end with the time tested adage, You can't take it with you.

Live, love, laugh, be present, share, invite and talk to folks. Try something new. Give up some old thing that doesn't work for you anymore. 

I may need to go swimming today. Maybe I will jump in the ocean - burr. I hate swimsuits but maybe I will go in with yoga shorts and top! There is also an air show.... So many choices and all free!

Have a great day doing something you love - something that will give you a happy memory. 

-Gillian Cornwall, c. June 5, 2016

Mount Baker from Willows Beach, Oak Bay
Doing. Being. Living.
Gillian Cornwall, c. June 4, 2016