Early morning mist hangs in the air and like a five year old on my first day of Kindergarten, I almost skip across the busy intersection at the corner of Burrard and Hastings. As of 12 hours ago, I gave up the keys to my apartment and I am now about to see Brene Brown speak. The next chapter has officially begun…
Then, mid-stride, I glance to the right, and the tip of one of the white sails of the old convention centre catches my eye. A little lump gathers in my throat as images of October 27, 2009 flash through my mind. Can it really be almost two years since the Moment My Life Changed forever?
As if my brain is a crowded etch-a-sketch that needs to be cleared, I give my head a shake and then pull open the heavy glass door in front of me. Giant wooden columns and floor to lofty-ceiling windows dwarf the convention centre “stewardess” who stands in the entryway and gives me her warmest, “it’s 7:00am and I LOVE my job” smile. When I say Brene Brown, she points upwards. Continue reading
This morning started with a jarring cell phone alarm and a thick, more-than-the-1-allotted-(cancer-survivor)-glass-of-red-wine last night headache. Since 7am this morning, I’ve been in a car, on a ferry, in a bus, on a train, in a plane, and in a van. For a few minutes earlier today, I felt like one of the wind blown cartoon cats from a Richard Scarry book.