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November 28, 2007

The Thought Process

Posted by trevor at 12:35 PM | Comments (0)

November 20, 2007

I opened the first page of my new journal and I picked up my trusty old Parker fountain pen and …and…and put the pen down again.

The crispy, clean, fresh white pages just sat there.

I tried again. Nothing.

I closed my eyes and contacted my inner muse:

“I have a brand-spanking-new journal,” I said.

“What was wrong with the last one?” came the reply.

“I filled it.”

“With what?” she said.

“With YOUR crazy ideas,” I said. “It’s full. Kaput. Finished. Done.”

“Oh.”

“What do you mean, oh?” I said.

“Oh is an expression of mild surprise.”

“Really. I never knew that.” I replied, sarcastically.

“So, what’s the problem with the new journal?”

“There is no problem.”

“Well…?”

“Actually, I don’t know how to start. You know. Like what to put on the first page.”

“What do you mean?” she said.

“Well, I just don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”

“Then try using your hand.”

“Very funny.”

“Okay. Stare at the paper and tell me what comes to mind,” she said.

“What comes to mind is sitting in the art class at school and the art teacher telling me I wasn’t talented enough to draw.”

“Was he?

“Was he what?”

“Was HE talented.”

“I don’t know. I never saw his work,” I said.

“Exactly! So relax and enjoy your problem,” she said.

“Okay.”

“And start with the cover…”

And I did.

And I enjoyed every second of it

And I recommend it highly.

And if you yourself don’t keep a journal or a scrapbook or a diary or some secret notes or a list of things to do before you expire, please give it a go. You’ll be mildly surprised at how expressing yourself with words or sketches or stamps or collage will bring a little more sunshine into your life. Even in winter.

Posted by trevor at 12:58 PM | Comments (0)

November 13, 2007

The Power of Kindness

A while back my business partner, Woody Englander, sent me the following note. This is a special event because Woody does not often write things down. Well, perhaps he does, but then he loses the paper on which he has written it. The piece that Woody actually managed to put down on paper really touched me, so I thought I’d share it:

As usual, I was about to run out of gas but I was lucky enough, once again, to sputter into the gas station. I had just come from working out, what a concept for a tub of lard like me, but if you saw the Pilates you instructor, I guarantee you would manage to muster the strength to work out as well.

I stopped my car, got out to swipe my credit card and realized I did not have my wallet. I had no cash, no credit card and I was completely out of gas.

Lucky for me, I am a slob who lives most of his life in his car, so I managed to find a couple of quarters and a couple of nickels. Then I found a few pennies underneath some nervous bitten off fingernails. There were a few more dimes under the seat and some nickels lodged in the door jam.

When all was said and done, I had gathered up $1.22 in change. With the price of gas today, that would buy less than half a gallon but I thought it would get me home.

I went into the store to get $1.22 worth of gas. The man in the store was probably in his late fifties, missing several teeth, and his English was not great. He was a hard working Mexican-American just trying to make a living.

Here I am, a middle-aged white guy who had just come from a fancy-schmancy country club, trying to lose some weight, without any money to buy gasoline. How pathetic is that?

Anyway, I put the money on the counter and told the man $1.22 was all I had but it should be enough to get me home. Frank, according to his nametag, reached into his wallet and put a dollar on the counter and said in his broken English, “Now you have $2.22.”

This guy did not need to be giving anyone money, especially someone like me who doesn’t need it. He insisted that I take it, so I did and told him I would return later to pay him back. He said not to worry about it but I assured him I would.

I did go back later and he seemed quite surprised to see me, but he thanked me and I thanked him again and went on my way.

All I can say is that at the end of the day, I believe most people are kind and most people are to be trusted, but unfortunately, we are so trained to watch for our money and watch out for the other guy that our heads won’t let our hearts do what they are born to do and that is to be kind to people.

Well as fate would have it, about 30 minutes after Frank showed his kindness to a stranger, it was my turn.

I walked out of my office, late for a meeting as usual, and saw a girl who had a flat tire. She was on her cell phone asking her dad questions about flat tire repair.

She was in some kind of business suit looking like she just had a job interview. The lady with her asked if I could help. Well, I have changed many flats in my life, but it has been about 10 years since the last one and I am about as mechanically inclined as my dog.

I took over the process and in about 10 minutes she was ready to go. I could not believe how quickly and calmly I changed the tire because I normally get frustrated when I can’t turn my computer on.

She thanked me and I went on to my meeting. I called the man I was meeting with and told him I was going to be late and he said, “No worries, you were very kind to help that girl.”

As I drove off I contemplated the events of the morning. Without question, had the man at the gas station not helped me, I would not have been able to help the lady with the flat tire.

When we follow our hearts and we are kind, the world presents us with opportunities that we would normally not have. Take advantage of the opportunity to meet a new person and have faith that the stranger has a kind heart too.”

– Woody Englander

(Due to the witness protection program the picture above is not a drawing of Woody but merely a representation. Besides, I do not believe Woody owns a suit, let alone a pair of long pants. Thank you for your insight Woody.)

Posted by trevor at 03:13 PM | Comments (1)

November 08, 2007

My friend’s five year-old daughter got jilted by her little boyfriend. She was rather taken aback that he had the audacity to end their four-day relationship.

It was her third break up in as many weeks.

“Mom, that’s it. I’m done. I don’t want any boyfriends until I’m married,” she announced firmly.

Love can be so elusive sometimes.

Posted by trevor at 03:49 PM | Comments (0)

November 05, 2007

Thankful Thinking

It's getting close to Thanksgiving here in the United States and because it is a time to give thanks I thought I’d mention some of the things I often forget to be thankful for:

I am thankful…

That my dad and mom happened to be at the same bus stop, on the same day, at the same time where they met and were inseparable until the day he died 45 years later.

That the gun jammed when I surprised the thief who was stealing the radio out of my car in Johannesburg. The gun was pointed at my chest and I saw him pulling the trigger countless times…to no avail. I would not have been here today had the gun not jammed.

That my dad passed his ‘happy’ genes on to me.

That my father did not suffer when he died. He was an athlete and would have hated being an invalid.

That my brother and sister shared my childhood with me.

That Nelson Mandela took my home country from apartheid to freedom without a bloody uprising or civil war.

That I was able to cuddle Naomi, hold Renee’s hand, be there for Victor and embrace Alex as they died after suffering from childhood cancer.

That CS Lewis wrote the Chronicles Of Narnia which inspired me to write.

That Mr. Clingman said, “Trevor, you can change the world, even though you are in Special Ed.”

That I can draw.

That I found a sense of humor lurking beneath the pain and humiliation of being the resident class idiot because of my dyslexia.

That I was too short to be decapitated by the wire across the path down which we were riding our soapbox cart late one night.

That Dr. Ozrin managed to remove the marble that I stuck up my own nose at Jabula nursery School.

That Staff Sergeant Reyneke managed to get rid of the grenade before it blew our heads off. (It was dropped by a petrified soldier right in front of us during basic training at the grenade practice range at Fourth Field Regiment.)

That I still get to sleep in my childhood room when I go home to visit.

That you are reading this blog.

That my grandmother was able to escape when her village was burned to the ground and many of her family members were slaughtered during the pogroms in Europe.

That my mum introduced me to the power of kindness.

That hot tea was invented.

That I was able to visit the Congo, Burundi, Uganda, Rwanda, Japan, Germany, Guam and South Africa this year and work with kids in orphanages and refugee camps.

That I managed to make it through the mine field of my youth which saw my best friend Howard die in the army, my other best friend John Hitchens die in a car accident, yet another friend Mark Campbell die of a drug overdose, my old girlfriend Babette die from an asthma attack and my brother Steve survive a motorcycle accident which almost took his life.

And finally, thanks to the Maker for giving me a clear mission in life and the ability and wherewithal to use my talents to try and make the world a better place for children!

Posted by trevor at 10:41 AM | Comments (3)

November 02, 2007

In Memoriam

Dad. You're not here, but you're always there! Gone, but not forgotten. I miss you terribly.

Posted by trevor at 07:09 AM | Comments (0)