The question posted is “What feels better?”. Shouldn’t the question be “Which is right?”. After all, it is often by doing that which “feels” better that gets people into trouble in the first place.. I used to facilitate workshops for a dual diagnosis program and found that “Forgiveness” was one of the scheduled workshops I was to conduct. As the concept of forgiveness is hardly one that can be dissected in a scientific way, I found it difficult to look at any literature written as being an “authoritative” source and hardly considered myself an expert. (Furthermore, using my faith as a resource would have been considered illegitimate so that was out.) I was terrified as I embarked on that first workshop and went in flying by the seat of my pants with very little material to use. (I also had my own forgiveness issues to deal with and was uncomfortable.) I needn’t have worried about what to say; the participants simply took over and I discovered that one hour is hardly enough time for 12 people to discuss their hang-ups with forgiveness. Eventually, ‘though, that particular workshop became one of my favourites and I spent much time contemplating the mystery that is forgiveness. I began challenging people about their attitudes towards forgiveness and usually started by acknowledging what I called “the big three”, namely, rape, murder and child molestation. People like to cite the big three as things that cannot be forgiven, however, these often seem to be used as red herrings to deflect attention away from being honest about our unforgiving attitudes in other matters. I encouraged participants to stick with that which was relevant to their own lives. I also discovered that people tend to be far more focused on whether or not to forgive, than to consider the harm they themselves have inflicted on others and their need to confess and seek forgiveness. Much of the written material also focuses on the need for “the forgiveness of self”, asserting that it can be the most difficult. I have to disagree. We are far more forgiving of our own follies than those of others. When someone cuts me off in traffic, he’s an inconsiderate idiot who probably holds a “Cracker-Jack Box” license which needs to be immediately revoked. However, when I cut someone off, the response is much more likely to be “Oops, where did he come from” or “That is a bad intersection … very difficult to see” blah, blah, blah. We are so kind and understanding when it comes to ourselves and very hard on others so often. Another popular notion is that forgiveness is something we do for ourselves to “make us feel better” and we don’t need to discuss it with the other party. Is this really true? Other people are in desperate need of our forgiveness and they need to know that they are forgiven just as much as we need to forgive them. Whether or not we feel better by forgiving someone else is irrelevant; we need to forgive others if we in turn expect to be forgiven. (‘Though I will concede that we do benefit when we let go of bitterness and resentment.) To acknowledge the posters who said that they have a hard time forgiving themselves when they wrong someone else, yes indeed, we are often left with the consequences of our past regardless of how sorrowful we are. In conclusion, at times I would have the odd participant in said workshops leave the session vowing never to forgive anyone else again!!!!

My husband wondered what I was reading so I read him Liz Smith’s column and he said “She’s right!”. He’ll go sans socks only with sandals. Then he claimed that Italians started the fad but that he thoroughly disapproves. (He’s Italian and tends to give credit to the Italians for everything.) On the same note, he calls those “wife-beaters” by another name … “Italian T-shirts”. I am distressed by the ever-increasing trend to “dress down” that is ubiquitous. Those “casual” days at work look sloppy and I have cringed at outfits that people will even wear to churches, weddings and funerals. I’m not exactly a prude nor am I particularly old (mid-forties) but nothing’s special anymore. In the good old days, that which was acceptable attire at the beach or on a hike up the mountain didn’t also double for more serious or formal events. I really think we rob our children when they’re not required to dress up once in a while for special occasions and when we don’t place some limits on their mode of dress. Anyway, I could rant on at length. Maybe I am a prude after all. My personal code for dressing is that I’d rather be over-dressed for any occasion than under-dressed.

My oh my but you folks sure know how to do up an election; I haven’t been following it on purpose, but it’s so hard to escape. Here are my reflections from my voyeuristic, dispassionate vantage point. I’ve long believed that truth is stranger than fiction, yet I’m still amazed when the truth of any matter starts to rise to the surface. Truth is like that … it can’t remain buried forever. Whether this matter should be private or public, whether it’s “relevant” or otherwise, it is a good example of the ramifications and potential ripple-effect we set in motion when we quietly decide on our own to do something wrong. “Old sins cast long shadows.” Your friend from the Great White North.

Kay Sara and Frannie Em Thanks for those links. The potential of solar and wind power captured my attention a couple of years ago. Using these powerful, endless resources makes a lot of sense.

Kelly Kelly Sounds like you and I are in the same boat. I also just quit my job last month but I’ m not bored yet. Sounds like we quit for similar reasons too … husband away a lot … SOMEBODY needs to deal with all this stuff at home … career burnout, etc. And I too am considering what other opportunities are out there. There is no threat of us being thrown out onto the streets just yet so I’m still enjoying my freedom. I confess that I have never followed the stock market and need an education on same which prompted me to read this column. That is another reason I quit work; I felt that our family’s finances needed some attention and an overhaul. We’re looking to do with less and are seriously examining some other lifestyles. Our dependence on the whims of the stock market or the housing market, etc. is frightening and I’m taking time to analyze what we really need and what is extraneous. It’s been boom time up here again and people have gone crazy with spending. (I live in the oil-rich province of Alberta.) My husband works in the oilfield and as a registered nurse, I am unconcerned about finding another position should the need arise. (The nurses in this province are also the highest paid in the country.) Cash flow has not been a problem; finding balance in our lives has been the issue. I’ll keep you posted as to how my plans for an “alternative lifestyle” are going. I’m hoping that it will be very liberating and enjoyable, having felt trapped and miserable for some time now. (Sorry, I think I sent an incomplete post … fingers aren’t working right this morning.)

Thanks for the chuckles. My husband thinks its funny, too.

LM, I think the reason people perceive this intervention as a “bad thing” is because we wonder where it will end. How much more “protecting us from ourselves” do we need? They are already banning trans fats. What’s next? Alcohol? Coffee? In several states last year, they considered mandating the HPV vaccination for all young girls. We are in danger of losing all autonomy as we continually demand that governments “do something” about any and every problem we identify. What about parents, families, communities, and churches looking for some solutions? All governments generally do is to assume more and more responsibility for our lives, while stripping us of more and more choices. How can going after something as basic as the freedom to exchange thought and ideas possibly solve something as complex and misunderstood as what we like to call “eating disorders”?

Does the end always justify the means? Does the end ever justify the means? It’s just something I think about time to time.

LOL! Just kidding! My husband and I were sitting here, deliriously happy because we’ve been apart for a few days, and we just came up with that wisecrack. I have grave reservations about the death penalty but cannot vote yes or no.

In the U.S.? Yeah! Up here in Canada? Uh, no.

Good cosmetic surgery is … an oxymoron? Happy Birthday, Dona.

I miss the good old days when it was absolutely nobody’s business to know how much anybody else weighed much less why. As a thinner person, I’ve been called it all: “stick”, “skinny”, “twig”, “bag of bones”, “bone rack”, “gaunt”. I have never dieted, stuck my finger down my throat or taken laxatives. Anorexia is an ancient phenomenon so to blame it’s existence on super models, the internet and advertising is ridiculous. Furthermore, anorexia occurs in very few people but it has become the cause de celebre; the statistics on obesity are far more alarming, but what’s being done about that? Each one of us is responsible for his/her own weight (and I don’t equate taking responsibility with taking the blame). We also don’t get to lay the blame squarely on someone or something else.

Well, no, apparently I haven’t changed my religion because even though I haven’t attended the Baptist church in years, here I am today, at home and sick, feeling what I call “Baptist guilt” for not being at work … and I really AM sick. My guilt is assuaged somewhat by the fact that I probably got sick from being at work last week. (There was suspected norovirus on our unit last week and I’ve been told to stay away ‘till I’ve been symptom free for 48 hours). I’m calling it the Noro-Diet. I’ts a highly effective way to shed a few pounds, but I’m not recommending it to anyone. I, like Dona Howlett, was the minister’s daughter and I hated it … but not on account of how the Baptist minister treated me. Everyone else expected me to be “better” because after all, I was the pastor’s daughter and whether people attended church or not, they all assumed I shouldn’t ever be bad. I actually experienced having people say “A minister’s daughter shouldn’t do that” and such nonsense. (Wouldn’t that be like being surprised that a doctor’s child could get sick?) But Dad was aware of this and often asked me if I was okay and if other people gave me a bad time about being a minister’s kid. Just knowing that Dad knew and cared made it bearable. He was the real deal; he didn’t say one thing in the pulpit and live something different the rest of the week. I think that other people assumed it was rough for me having to live with the pastor, but nobody really could have understood the grace, mercy and compassion that Dad showed towards his own four children. He always felt horrible if he thought he’d offended any of us and it was not beneath him to offer a deep apology to his children. We all miss him desperately. Did I lose my faith? Not in God, ‘though I tried hard not to think about it for many years. I have absolutely lost my faith in mankind because we are all so fallible. I’m now searching for truth … I don’t care what it is, just so long as it is the truth. I’m also striving to develop that same humility and compassion that my Dad modelled so well.

Sorry, I’m with Emma Pathey and Elizabeth Flynn; thankfully, I won’t be attending any weddings this summer. I decided long ago that I hate weddings. I attended many when I was younger and often got stuck playing the organ. Brides are always late … often very late, but you the organist have to keep coming up with more wonderful music to play. Furthermore, I was required to be at the rehearsal the evening before. I once had a bride and groom blithely show up an hour late for their own rehearsal while everyone else was waiting … no apologies, no nothing. The organist should receive an honourarium for services rendered and on the rare occasion that the families remembered this, I might have received $20.00. I came to see weddings as a perfect waste of a weekend, involving not only Friday evening but Saturday afternoon and evening as well. I observed that most of these brides thought that they were Princess Diana, with several bridesmaids all decked out, flowers galore, endless speeches and music, etc. But then, for the “reception”, guests were invited into the dark, dank basement of some hall or church where they were treated to cold cuts and buns. Yuck! I quickly realized that I much preferred playing the organ for funerals. The dead are never late; the funeral home director sees to that. I was always handsomely rewarded by the funeral home and all I had to do was to quietly play some soothing music … no trumpet voluntaires or fanfares. I’m not against weddings per se; I just believe one should keep them simple and brief and then treat ones guests to the best dinner possible. When I remarried three years ago, my groom and I more or less eloped. We grabbed my four sons (and a girlfriend) and his one son and ran off to a beautiful national park in the Rockies. I wore a green, blue, beige swirly confection which my husband said looked like a bad acid trip (he loved the dress and meant that as a compliment). We drove up a mountain and had pictures taken by a frozen lake; on the way down, we spotted a pair of deer who amazingly cooperated as I gingerly stepped out of the vehicle while my husband snapped a picture of the deer and me, in my psychedelic wedding gown. We had dinner at a lovely restaurant with each ordering whatever they wished. The kids, being late teens and early twenty-somethings, had a blast. Now, that’s my kind of wedding. We do have a wedding to attend this fall in Toronto. When I asked my husband, who is Italian, what time the wedding would start on Saturday he looked at me in amazement and said “This is an Italian wedding … it doesn’t start … it’s all day long.” Social recluse that I am, I’m already bracing myself.

Nope. I don’t think about it anymore. Just over 3 years ago, I married the one that I had decided I’d been better off without. He decided to look me up nearly 23 years after he broke my 17 year old heart. We’re happier than pigs in mud.