Once upon a time I had a blog. It was a friendly little blog that was happy being just the way it was with no great aspirations of one day growing up and hangin’ with the big blogs.  I did what I wanted on that blog – wrote what I wanted, posted pictures that made me feel good, spilled random lists that flowed from my scattered brain  – because I wasn’t too concerned about who showed up or how popular it became.

I started that blog nearly 6 years ago, when I was preparing for my first trip to Africa.  Because the trip was so full of excitement, yet carried some old cultural and religious baggage that I wanted to deal with, I thought a blog might be a good way of working through some of that, as well as documenting parts of the trip for future walks down memory lane.

At first, I told no one of the blog, but then I discovered my sister and sister-in-law had secretly started blogs of their own, so we bravely shared URLs and started commenting. Soon some close personal friends started blogging, and before long, strangers started showing up for one reason or another. It was all very lovely and cosy and soon I felt like I had a nice little community of supportive friends surrounding me in cyberspace.  The odd time weird things happened (like someone claiming one of my readers was a fraud), but those were pretty rare, since my blog wasn’t really drawing much attention to itself.

About six months ago, my life started feeling really restless, stuff at my day job started falling apart bit by bit, and it occurred to me that maybe I should revive my old dream of becoming a serious writer. Maybe I should start putting myself out there in cyberspace as some kind of “expert” with wisdom to share that people would eventually want to pay me to share. Maybe I should try to build a more “serious” blog.

So, with great love and care, I created a new space (this space). It was all very exciting and gave me so much joy and pleasure to be creating something new and to have something positive to get energy from when other things in my life were feeling more like energy-sucking black holes.

People started showing up in larger numbers than they’d ever shown up at my other humble little blog, I got interviewed on a radio station, some people started linking to me,  and it was quite thrilling… at first.

But then, sadly, a few things started happening that began to taint that initial excitement.

1. It was beginning to feel like work to create an engaging, interesting space. I didn’t need more work – I was already up to my eyeballs in work. I needed pleasure and recreation, not strategy, marketing, and planning. Not that there’s anything intrinsically wrong with those things, it’s just that I’ve already got plenty of that stuff in my day job.
2. I began to miss my old blog and my old friends because I had little time to spend with them anymore. At the new place, I felt like I was trying too hard to attract “readers” rather than “friends” and what I really needed was friends.
3. Before I knew it, partly because I’d had a few too many discouragements at work and was feeling vulnerable, I began to let myself wrap my self-worth in the numbers game.  When the numbers dropped (and, sadly, the highest stats were on my very first day – I never went back up to that number), I wondered why I wasn’t as interesting as the other blogs that were drawing big numbers.
4. I was pouring too much energy into this new entity (and Twitter), and other things in my life were suffering – my family, my day job, my home, and the freelance writing and workshops I used to do occasionally (and get paid for now and then).
5. In my efforts to follow this “dream”, I was reading way too many “10 easy steps to making a living as a blogger” or “10 easy steps to a more fulfilled, successful YOU!” and though some of them inspired me at first, in the end, they mostly depressed me. Self help stuff has a way of doing that to me. I can only take it in small doses.
6. Partly because of the self help “follow your dream” stuff, I was allowing myself to paint a more bleak picture of my day job than was fair.  It’s a job I was once quite passionate about, and though there have been some rough spots, it didn’t deserve to be pushed into a corner and ignored so much. I’m working for justice for people who are hungry, after all – it’s a really GOOD job. For various reasons, I need to stay in this job for the time being, so I just HAVE to find a way of committing myself to it, or I’m cheating the people I serve and whose stories I get the privilege of sharing.  (Ironically, I had to give myself the same talking to I once gave a staff member when she’d developed a bad attitude.)

So, after a few tears shed on top of my growing pile of laundry, I just quit. Cold turkey. I walked away from all of my online spaces. I re-engaged in real life. I read more books, I poured more energy into my job, and I tried to be more present for my family. I refused to care if I was committing “blog suicide” or “Twitter suicide” by my walking away, I just knew that silence was what I needed for awhile.

Yes I missed it, and many times I caught myself thinking “oh – that would make a great blog post”, but overall, it’s been such a good thing to take a break and focus on my priorities.  Even though I still eventually want to make a career change, my job is giving me pleasure and passion again. I have some fun things to look forward to (a couple of workshops to facilitate), I’ve had some really wonderful lunch conversations with friends, I’m worrying less about other people’s opinion of me, and – more than anything – I’ve found some contentment again.

I’m ready to gradually re-insert myself into cyberspace, but it will be a scaled back version, at least for now.  I’ll be setting aside the new site (for now, anyway – we’ll let the future take care of itself), and just finding contentment in my little unassuming blog in my corner of cyberspace where I can play to my heart’s content, show off my kids, wrestle with a few demons now and then, dance in the rain if it feels right, share fun stories about the wonderful adventures I get to go on from time to time, and just be the authentic me that I feel like putting out into cyberspace whenever I feel like it.

I’ll leave the big blogs, the marketing strategies, the SEOs, the self-promotion, the strategic networking, and the numbers games to someone else. (If that’s you – no judgement meant, just make sure you’re still having fun and being authentic!)

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I didn’t know Karla before she visited my house for the launch party for this site, but she’d been reading my blog and knew enough about me to know that she’d be interested in hanging out with me for an evening.  I’m so glad she did, because it didn’t take long to recognize that Karla is indeed a kindred spirit. When we held a sharing circle that night, Karla said something profound about how she’d realized that the most important gift she needed to give right now was a gift to herself.  Since I know that many of us are in similar situations, I asked her to write something about it, and she did…

I spent my growing-up years in a wonderful Mennonite community.  It’s the kind of place where neighbors bake you fresh buns, meals are delivered if you’re in need, farmers help each other get the last of the crops off the field, and participation in the life of the community is expected.  Service of all types was not necessarily seen as a “gift” but as an obligation – your “christian act of worship” if you will.  It’s within this context that my earliest thoughts on “what am I giving away” were formed.

The little girl from the idealistic, hard-working Mennonite community grew up.  I spent time overseas, moved to the big city, went to University and got a degree, was married and had babies.  And all the while I never stopped giving.  “It’s what you do, after all.  You give until it hurts, and then give a little more.”  People’s requests were not considered and weighed – they were agreed to immediately and acted upon with diligence.  Opportunities to give time and energy in church were accepted without contemplation.  “This is what God requires of me” I thought.  Parenting was the most unrelenting of all in its demands of my gifts.   I grew weary, downcast, and frustrated with my reality, but put my game-face on and continued to give my gifts away because it was the right thing to do.

It didn’t take long until weariness grew into depression.  It’s hard to give yourself away when you’re anxious, agitated, exhausted and unstable.   Amidst the “sure, I’ll do that” and the “what time do you need me to be there?” heard from inside my house were the irrational, loud, and angry words directed at my little girls.  Guiltridden sobs were my companion as I laid my head on the pillow at night.  I wasn’t interested in helping people anymore.  My gifts seemed unworthy and defiled.  I knew I needed help.  But good, giving Mennonite girls don’t ask for help, do they?   They are supposed to be the ones giving it away.

Finally, I was able to seek help.  Medication took the edge off my agitation and depression and I was able to regain the tools to parent my daughters without excessive anger, guilt, or shame.   I discovered the power of the word “no” and began to see the value of self-preservation.  I discovered that the only requirements God had of me were to love Him and love others.  I helped when I could and put many of my “giving skills” on the shelf for a much-needed rest.

It’s taken a long time, but I’m finally learning that the best gift I can give away is the freedom to sometimes not give away anything at all.

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It all started with a map.

I love maps. This was one of those old fashioned sepia-toned maps that I’d used as inspiration for my treasure hunt. I cut a piece of it and glued it to my art journal.  On one corner of the map, I stuck a photo of a woman in a safari hat looking like she was keen for adventure. It all fit so well – an explorer seeking adventure on a map of the world.  I wasn’t sure what to do next, but the beginning made me happy. I saw myself emerging on the page.

Grabbing a paintbrush and some paint, I started painting over the map. First there were light, translucent circles, but soon they became big, dark swirls. Angry looking swirls. Like a series of ugly hurricanes moving into the shorelines of hundreds of vulnerable islands on the sepia map. One of the swirls encircled the explorer woman.  She clung to her corner of the page, lost and alone in the darkness.  I don’t know where the swirls came from or why they showed up looking so dark and angry, nearly obliterating the map. I just let it happen.

I stared at it for awhile, disappointed that what started out as an exploration into the traveler in me had turned ugly. I didn’t know what to do next so I left it alone.  I considered tearing it up and starting again.

The next few days, I’d occasionally glance at that page in my journal, not sure what to do with it. It didn’t feel right to tear it out, but it looked unfinished and ugly and it made me feel unsettled when I looked at it.

I abandoned the art journal in my studio and put it out of my mind.

Sometime during the course of that week, I realized that an old familiar feeling that had been my companion for the past 6 months was beginning to occupy my every waking moment. Again.  I’d been here before – so many times. Restlessness. Dissatisfaction with the status quo. An unsettling addiction to change and revolution. A deep and burning need to wander to new things and new places.

It’s mostly in my work that I feel the restlessness crop up every few years, but it can also overtake other areas of my life.  I have boxes full of unfinished art and craft projects that I’ve abandoned whenever I got bored.  I could give you a tour of my bookshelf and point out all the passions I’d poured over in various phases of my life and eventually lost interest in. I could show you stacks of photos of all the countries, cities, parks, beaches and out-of the way paths that have given space to my wandering feet.  I have a history of changing jobs every three years. I just don’t know how to settle down. It’s not that I don’t know contentment – it’s just that it never lasts.

Once again this same restlessness was consuming me and this time, it was making me angry. Why couldn’t I settle down like other people?  Why did my passion have to shift every few years like a temperamental wind? Why couldn’t I just keep enjoying this job that I’d loved so much in the first few years? Why couldn’t I just focus on one interest and pursue excellence in it rather than getting bored before I was proficient?  Why did I keep wanting more, more, MORE? Why was I so damn fickle?

I felt like I was wrestling with my own dark shadow and I wasn’t winning.

The frustration started affecting me physically. I was exhausted and even though I slept fairly well at night, I never felt rested.  My head started to ache, and my concentration nearly vanished.

I took a sick day, hoping a little rest would help me get past this malaise.  But I couldn’t sleep, even when everyone else had left and the house was quiet.

Finally I went down to the studio and sat staring at the abandoned art journal. I flipped it open to the swirling map.  Something clicked in me and instantly I recognized what was on the page. These angry swirls represented my own dissatisfaction with the restless wanderer in me.  Even though I love the fact that I’m a world traveler, and often refer to myself as a “happy wanderer” (hence the happiness when I first started the page), there’s a part of me that feels deeply flawed because of this inability to find contentment with the status quo for any length of time. It was causing an ugly hurricane of emotions in my soul.

I sat there in silence for awhile and just let myself feel the conflicting emotions.  Happy and sad, angry and excited, passionate and bored.  It all swirled in me like those restless hurricanes.

Then suddenly, something changed. Like a gentle breeze, peace came and the storm settled. In the breeze I heard the Spirit whisper “you are called to be a wanderer. Your restlessness is your beauty.”

I was getting it all wrong! This was a gift, not a flaw. This restlessness in me was the work of the Artist, not an ugly mistake. I wasn’t supposed to deny it or try bury it beneath layers of resistance – I was supposed to embrace it and follow it!

I picked up a paintbrush and dipped it in white paint. Over the angry swirls I wrote the words that came to me. “You are called to be a wanderer.” “There are answers in the eye of the storm.” And “Excavate. Explore. Navigate. Initiate.”  At the centre of each hurricane, I painted a tiny dot of light. In the centre of the woman’s heart, I painted a tiny, happy white swirl.

Finally it was finished and it was okay. I was okay.

I started the next page of my journal – this time with bright yellow paint and a fun photo of a girl reaching for a cookie jar. The next photo represented a dream I have – a place where I’ve wandered and want to take other people to some day (that story is for another post). I painted hands reaching out for this second “cookie jar”. The only word that showed up this time was “Reach!”

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Perhaps I’ll just retire and let Maddie take over the blog. Or maybe I’ll just have a monthly “Art with Maddie” segment.

(After we recorded this, she suggested I send the video to “that guy who painted the Mona Lisa”. I informed her that he was dead, but assured her there would probably be other artists who would watch it and appreciate it as much as he would.)

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Christine Mason Miller (photo by Denise Andrade http://deniseandrade.com/)

One day in the early Spring of this year, when this website was busy getting born in my brain, I came across Christine Mason Miller’s story of how she was leaving copies of her book, Ordinary Sparkling Moments, in little brown paper packages in random places in different parts of the world as gifts for anyone who happened to wander by (100 Books Project). Not only did I fantasize about stumbling across one of those books, but I also became intrigued with the whole concept of anonymous gift-giving. Christine had been inspired by the book The Gift: How the Creative Spirit Transforms the World, and I wasted no time ordering my own copy. The book served as an important catalyst for my own thinking around personal gifts and how and why we share them.

I’m very excited that Christine agreed to be my special guest today!

By way of introduction, Christine, tell us something fun about yourself.

My name is Christine and I’m a Brady Bunch fanatic!  Living in Los Angeles I see celebrities all the time, and the only one I’ve made a complete fool of myself with was Florence Henderson – aka Mrs. Brady.  Me + champagne + any Brady in real life = Me blabbing on like a crazy superfan!

What are the gifts you are sharing (or learning to share) with the world?

More than any particular kind of art or writing, the gift I am trying to share with the world is the gift of knowing that the answers to our most meaningful questions can be found within our own lives.  I would say an extension of that is that I am trying to convey this message with as much beauty as possible.  I try to do this by sharing my own stories – which includes being honest about all the messy, stumbling ways I have found my own answers.  In a nutshell, I am sharing my truth.

How did you discover that you had these gifts?

The turning point came during the hardest year of my life, when I made my highest priority in life to live by the truth.  Although that was a conscious choice at a specific point in my life, the way I have come to share this gift as an artist and a writer has been a slow evolution, one that I know is going to continue to shift and grow over time.

Why do you think it is important to share these gifts?

I believe that facing, calling out and living by what is true is what grants us the most freedom to live our most meaningful lives.  I also know that there are many layers of truth in any given situation, and the more we dig to uncover the barest essence of what is true the more we discover our own values, passions, fears and strengths.

What have been the stumbling blocks or obstacles in your path to discovering and/or sharing your gifts?

I would say my ego and fear have been the deadly combo.  As far as my ego is concerned, I try to be aware of when it is getting in the way and when it is driving my choices, thoughts and actions (not always the easiest task, but I try).  When my fears start making noise, I try to let them carry on however they want, sometimes literally saying out loud, “Do what you need to do and have at it, but right now I need to work”.  In other words, letting them cackle and bang drums and taunt me, but sticking to my task at hand.

Tell me a story about how the sharing of the gifts had a transformative impact on you or the person/people you shared them with.

I recently had a conversation with someone who wanted to know how I – and other entrepreneurial friends of mine – had built my online presence and business.  After talking about the connections I had with different bloggers and artists and how we all supported one another’s ventures, I explained that the most important thing we have all done to get where we are is to ask for what we need.  Any art show, retreat, or business we created came about because we put our idea out to our community and asked for support, help and participation.  That was the simple truth, and I could see in her eyes she was relieved to know it wasn’t anything more complicated than that.  There was no magic formula or “expert” who we all turned to, all we did was tell the truth of what we needed.

What advice do you have for other people who are learning about their own gifts?

Follow your instincts.
Follow your instincts.
Follow your instincts.

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Vicki Madden with her family

I think my online friendship with Vicki Madden started about 5 years ago when one of us stumbled on the other’s blog and we discovered almost instantly that we were kindred spirits.  These days, she’s without a blog (though that will be changing shortly), but she is busy building a new photography business. I’m excited for her, because Vicki has an incredible eye for finding beauty through her viewfinder – sometimes in the most unexpected places. Here’s Vicki’s story of her emerging giftedness.

Looking through the viewfinder of my camera I am often caught off guard by what I see. The tenderness in a Daddy’s eyes, the love of a Mother for her grown son, the touch of a rough hardworking hand touching the soft cheek of a baby. I have been “in love” with photography since I was a teenager, but as all first loves it faded overtime and life changes. About 4 years ago after reading a blog, I purchased a used Nikon D70 and the love was reborn.

Since the purchase of my Nikon D70 I have taken pictures of almost every family function, often catching moments of daily life tasks, really looking at my loved ones through the viewfinder. It slowed me down, helped me to see my sweet gift I have been given. My family.

The moment of “gifting” was birthed in me on one such occasion. My Mom requested I take pictures of a family get together. My uncle Billy was just diagnosed with cancer, he was already on dialysis and he knew he didn’t have much time. He wanted his family to be together to say goodbye. I knew I was to document this day for his family to have later. I took pictures out of the ordinary. I took pictures of groups and kisses, and then when the posing stopped I kept taking pictures to capture the essence of his love for his family. It was a gift to me to be able to do this, this is the day I will remember as knowing I could take really great pictures, and some of them would be a way to earn money and some of them would be a way to give to others. My Uncle passed in April, and I am thankful and honored to have had the day to record these moments for his family whom I love so very much.

How are you giving? Has your gift been realized in your spirit yet? Don’t wait for it to fall in your lap, get to doing something you love and allow “it” to grow in your spirit. You’ll know when it’s time.

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If I were to speak like my teenage daughters, I would call Michele one of my BFFs. We’ve been friends for about 10 years and in those years we have inspired, challenged, encouraged, and calmed each other.  I remember one particular time when I was sitting in a parking lot in Alberta, about to face a really difficult situation, and Michele was the person I called for fortification. She didn’t disappoint.  She’s always been in my corner and I will always be in hers. Here are her thoughts on giving and receiving.

Dear Heather;

Every time I open my blog page to write a new post or check my comments,  I see your “What are you giving away” button.

It always gives me pause.

“What,” I ask myself, “am I giving away?”

It’s not always an easy question to answer. See, I’m working in a new place, where the young women more often than not, have bruises on skin that deserved a caress. Where young men have become so numb to emotion that the only one they can identify is anger. Where fifty looks very, very old, and everybody knows what helping agency is handing out food and clothes and other necessities on what days. Where $50 won at Bingo is stolen on the way home.

And so all day I float atop a tide of painful stories and abuse and I wonder who the hell do I think I am that I could give something meaningful, hopeful, true, to people who have experienced far more of life than I will ever see or know.

For most of my adult life I’ve worked in helping agencies, working against hunger, poverty, sexual abuse. You know, society’s ills. Often people have commended me for my work. Actually said, “Oh wow. You must be a really good person.”

Ha.

It’s not that I think of myself as a particularly bad person, but I do know that the choices I’ve made concerning my work have not been made because of my inherent goodness. All I know is that accounting would bore me and I’m not cut out for construction.

So what am I giving away? And why?

It’s a good question and one that I feel more confused about than ever. Because I find, generally, that no matter what I give, what I get back is infinitely more satisfying than the gift I’ve brought. I find that when I’m able to make someone aware of their strength and giftedness, I’m blessed by seeing them come alive in those areas. Giving becomes a sort of self serving cycle.

And I’ve even been able to make a salary while doing it.

So how can I leave behind more of myself than I take from another? How can I offer my love and my strength and my joy and my peace so that there’s a balance that is fair and right in the world? So that I’m not taking more than my fair share?

Maybe it’s just in the trying. Giving without worrying about what I’m getting back. Not thinking that what goes around, must come around. Recognizing that in sharing my gifts, the gifts of others are magnified and that they too can find that it is indeed more blessed to give than receive.

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I first met my friend Stephanie Tombari at a business meeting about 4 years ago. Because of the connection between the two non-profit organizations we work for, we end up at the same meetings about twice a year. It didn’t take long, though, to realize that, beyond being just colleagues, we were soul-sisters. Soon the business meetings spread into the occasional dinner out, snatched moments of connection in the hallways, and one memorable afternoon when we skipped out of a conference to try to find a body piercing joint. Stephanie is a writer who specializes in social justice issues. She recently completed her Masters in Communication. She has some great advice about finding our way past the things that block us.

I am a procrastinator. I am also deadline driven. Drop the green flag and I’ll sit idling at the starting line. But wave that white flag of the final lap, and I kick in to high gear.

My most common modus operandi has been to determine precisely how much time it will take me to finish a project, and then wait until the outer limit of that timeline before starting. So if a feature article is due on Friday, but I decide on Monday it will only take me two days to write, I start it Wednesday night. That may usually work for smaller writing assignments, but waiting for a deadline to approach isn’t very effective on bigger projects like a thesis or novel. There’s no way I’d have finished a 6,000 word master’s research paper with that approach: some projects are more complicated than putting words on paper.

So I tried something that’s big with time management pros these days: the mini deadline. The mini deadline is all about breaking up the big project into digestible bites. Since deadlines and a sense of completion jump start my engine, the mini deadline – or “micromovements” as inspirational writer SARK calls them – have been great for keeping me enthusiastic and not giving up. While I still work best on tight deadlines, breaking a project up into smaller pieces moves me toward completing the finished project in a reasonable amount of time. And it’s paid off: after two years of working and going to school full time, I graduate from my master’s program this fall.

There’s another checkered flag that can stop me from crossing the finish line: a shortage of self confidence. I write and publish a fair bit, but that little bit of success has more to do with quitting than confidence: I simply get fed up thinking and talking about a project, and planning a project, and not actually working on a project.  So while I still might not believe I will succeed, I have the will to just get the bloody thing done.

When I was in China last fall, I learned something about the power of will, through a Chinese faith in ‘good fortune’. There is a vibration created by 1.3 billion people believing in the value of good luck, a vibration I am convinced creates a condition of manifest destiny – where mass belief in luck creates the conditions for luck to exist. In China you sense the alpha waves of this collective mindset, as they radiate and bounce off the greenhouse gases and then are absorbed back into Chinese society. The predominant North American culture doesn’t believe in good luck the same way – and we don’t experience good luck the same way either. But most of us know there’s a lot to be said for believing in something greater than yourself. Whether it’s God, good luck, or the power of saying goodbye to a finished piece of work – it helps get the job done. And ultimately if I’m not getting the job done then what the hell is the point?

Here’s a really good reason I’ve found to keep writing: “Communication is health; communication is truth; communication is happiness. To share is our duty; to go down boldly and bring to light those hidden thoughts which are the most diseased; to conceal nothing; to pretend nothing; if we are ignorant, say so; if we love our friends to let them know it.” – Virginia Woolf

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Singer/songwriter Don Amero

I take special pleasure in introducing this week’s guest, partly because I’ve been able to watch his giftedness and his career emerge over the past six years or so.  Don Amero is a gifted musician, and I feel privileged to call him friend.  You can learn more about him at his website. Here’s Don’s story…

When I was 15 years old I auditioned for the school production “Crazy for you” all in the hopes that I would get the attention of Natalie, a girl I had a crush on for 3 years. Until that audition, I had zero experience in performance. I had always been interested, but was always too scared to try. After all, I was a 15 year old boy and the idea of dancing and singing on a stage was less than cool at the time; although that perspective would soon change. Long story short, I landed the lead roll of “Curly” a rugged cowboy who would occasionally break out into song and dance. I even got the opportunity to dance with Natalie in the play. For three nights we got standing ovations and I felt like a hero. That production would put me on the course that would lead me to where I am today.

I am now 29 years old, married to Pam (a true gift in my life), and a full time singer/songwriter. I’ve released two albums and am currently working on a third. I have had the honor of being nominated for 9 Aboriginal Peoples Choice Music Awards and have toured Canada several times in the past two years. It’s been a long road to get to this place of understanding my gifts and also using them to the best of my ability. If you’ll allow me to continue my story you’ll see how I got to where I am now and how my gifts brought me here.

After “Crazy for you” I continued to audition in other school productions. I also started taking dance lessons. I was also very much into working out and football, so being a dancer who could also bench press 250 lbs and run through most opponents on the field sure helped keep the mockery at bay. That being said, since my days as a high school kid, being a male performance artist has become something of a cool thing to do thanks to guys like Zach Efron and the High School Musical movies.

I began writing songs and playing guitar during my last years in school and not long after I started playing in an original rock band. We played about 10 shows and all of them were awful! We thought we were great and loved to play, but we were so green that we had no clue what we were doing. I’ve been in two other bands since and both were better than the last. Being in those bands were the building blocks in helping realize my gifts and led me to the decision to record my first album.

It was the summer of 2006 and I was working as a hardwood floor installer and in my spare time, began recording my first CD. One song off that album became the catalyst for my mission/vision as a performer. The song “Help this world”, is about doing what we can to make the world a better place. After playing that song, I realized that I wanted to make more music that would inspire change and encourage the heart of the listener to better things for themselves and those around them. Once I understood that I could use the music as a tool to help others, the music began to flow out. I realized that I could do what I love and at the same time motivate and influence others to do great things. The album was given the title “Change your life” with the hopes that that would happen for the listener, but truthfully the biggest change it made was probably in my own life. My music took on a new form and meant that I could no longer play any old song, but songs that must coincide with my mission.

After releasing “Change your life”, I spent the next year promoting my music and playing as many shows as I could find. I submitted the album in the 2007 Aboriginal Peoples Choice Music Awards and received 5 nominations. That provided me with many more opportunities and recognition as a writer and performer. During that time, I had continued working the day job as a hard wood floor installer. It was getting increasingly difficult to balance both the day job and the musician life, so in September of 2007 I left the flooring job and began pursuing music full time.

To date, I am privileged to say I have not had to go back to work, and I have been lucky enough to gain the support of not only my family and friends but also, as surreal as it still sounds, many fans. This year I released another album titled “Deepening” and have played over 100 shows. I am spending a lot of time in the office, on the phone, sending emails, connecting with other music professionals and planning future shows… the list goes on. I find that these days as an independent act I only spend about 15 percent of my time actually playing and writing, but I assume that is what it’s like for anyone else in my position. However, when I meet with friends and family I find myself saying “I don’t have a real job…”, even though I think I work more hours that any other job I’ve worked before. I love doing what I do. I love networking with others in the business. I can’t wait to get up everyday and sip on my coffee and slowly chip away on whatever it is I am working on.  It’s a wonderful thing that the work I do doesn’t really feel like work at all.

In a nut shell, I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to spend the last few years building my own business around my gifts. I sometimes wonder how many people out there are trudging along in life while the days slowly fade away, and they never really take the chance to wield their gifts. Failure is scary, but in truth it is an opportunity to learn as well. Along my path to get here I failed numerous times and learned a little bit more about what I am good at and what I’m not so good at. I am certain that I will fail many more times in my pursuit, but there is an inner peace that comes along with the fulfillment of using my gifts.

Now I don’t mean to say that everyone should quit whatever it is they’re doing and rely on their gifts to make a living – not all abilities have a business calling. What I am saying is that in my experience, living your life using your gifts to the fullest of your ability makes life very enjoyable. So, if you have a skill that you’re not using, I hope you’ll dare to jump into something that will help you in exercising it. Don’t worry about it if you hit a few bumps along the way. Learn from them and move on. I think the best life we can have is when we are using our gifts.

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Elizabeth in Ethiopia

She’s 26 years old and she has already changed the world. Maybe not the WHOLE world, but she’s definitely had a transformative impact on her little part of it, and that’s pretty remarkable none-the-less.

Her name is Elizabeth and she lives in a tiny village in the Afar district of Ethiopia. When I met her, she was 24 and the world-changing was already underway.

She didn’t always live in the Afar region. She grew up in Addis Ababa, the large bustling capital city of Ethiopia.  A few years ago, much to her family’s dismay, she said good bye and moved 700 kilometres away to a remote village (that couldn’t even be called a village at the time) in the middle of the desert where she knew no-one and didn’t speak the local language.

The water diversion system

When she moved there, at the tender age of 22, Elizabeth took on the improbable task of leading a team of 70 skilled labourers (all but one are men) and hundreds of un-skilled villagers in the building of a major water diversion project. She had little experience in leadership and she’s introverted by nature, but she had a university degree in development and somebody saw something in her that made her (and them) believe she was capable of doing the job.

There were a lot of road bumps along the way, but a few years later, when I visited, it was evident that Elizabeth was just where she was meant to be.  Ask anyone around what impact she’s had on the region, and they won’t hesitate to expound on the wonders of the water-diversion project she lead her team to build.  An arid area now grows lush vegetables thanks to a canal system diverting water 5 kilometres from the river. 

New crop of onions

Local villagers have plenty to eat and enough to sell in the market.  People who once led a nomadic impoverished lifestyle because they had no choice but to follow their animals from one watering hole to the next now have regular access to water and have built a village close to the water source.  The village sports a tiny story where locals buy soap, fabrics, and other household goods.  An innovative entrepreneur has built a profitable business with a generator and television that he charges the neighbours to watch in the evening when the work is done.

One of the greatest transformations though is the school.  A tiny school that only saw 2 children come through its doors when Elizabeth first arrived now has 64 students, due in large part to the fact that their families no longer have to live nomadic lifestyles.  It was clear in the way the young school girls followed her around that Elizabeth was serving as a powerful role model for what their future could be.

Young girls in the village

Equaling the impact on young people is the impact Elizabeth’s leadership has had on the status of women in the region.  The locals had never allowed women to hold positions of leadership before, but after Elizabeth demonstrated what a woman is capable of, things began to shift and now 2 women sit on the water users’ committee, one of the most influential committees in the region.

When I asked Elizabeth why she stayed in such harsh circumstances, far from her home and family, in an area that is unforgiving in its heat and aridness, among people she didn’t know and with whom she had little in common (she’s one of the very few Christians in a largely Muslim region, and her western-style clothing shows how different her life has been to this point), she told me in her quiet way “When I first arrived, I met with the men in the region to explain how we could help their people get regular access to water. They told me in that first meeting ‘if it is run by a woman, it will never work. Women can’t think.’ When I heard those words, I knew I had to stay and prove them wrong. I often felt I was in over my head, but I believed I was doing the right thing.”

Elizabeth

“I love my country,” Elizabeth told me, when I asked why she’d pursued a career in development. “I know we are capable of great things. But we must first ensure that our people have enough to eat. If Ethiopia has any hope for the future, it has to be in its own people.”

It’s been a couple of years since I met Elizabeth, but her story frequently comes up when I tell stories about people who have found something they’re passionate about and gifted in and are willing to make sacrifices to follow their calling.  We can all learn a lot from Elizabeth.

First, the bad news:

- Following your calling can be lonely and isolating. Elizabeth now has one young female friend at the work site who has become her confidant, but for years, she kept mostly to herself.

- Announce to them that you are taking radical steps to follow your calling, and there’s a good chance your family will think you’re crazy and try to stop you.

The complex where Elizabeth & her team live

- Sometimes, you will have to make great sacrifices (live in harsh circumstances, leave your family behind, and give up a lot of what’s been important to you) to pursue what you are passionate about.

- Despite your belief in the value of what you’re doing, the people you long to help may not welcome you with open arms. They might even intentionally throw roadblocks in your way.

- You may not feel at all ready to take on a task, but someone who believes in you may push you further than you ever dreamed you’d go.

But there is some good news:

- Even if you’re young and inexperienced, you can make a significant difference in the world.

- If you persevere and demonstrate value in what you bring, the naysayers may eventually be your greatest converts.

- While you think you’re just bringing water to a village, you may be changing the whole fibre of the region, elevating the value of education and raising the status of women.

- You don’t have to reach the status of “expert” to make a difference – just start giving what you have and the rest will follow.

- People may tell you that your gender, your religion, or your age will keep you from doing what you set out to do, but there’s a good chance they’re wrong. You may manage to shift their belief system if you’re stubborn enough.

Sometimes, when I get discouraged and think that what I’m doing can’t possibly make any difference and there are way too many obstacles and naysayers in the way, I remember Elizabeth and I renew my resolve.

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