outWORD by Matte Downey

Skier about to head down the mountain in Adelboden, Switzerland Wednesday was one of those days when I had to fight to maintain a sense of well-being. To be honest, there were quite a few moments when I didn't quite manage it. The contentment and hope that I usually live in leaked out somewhere along the way and I couldn't patch the hole fast enough to keep low level despair from moving into my soul. I could attribute this "down" day to a mistake or two I made recently (actually, make that at least three), the sinus infection that was making me woozy and slow, or some rather curt emails from a colleague which led me to conclude that he hated me. I have also been finding teaching a burden and a chore, unsure how to fill the 2.75 hours of class-time each Friday morning, certain that I don't know enough, don't explain things clearly enough, and am not really prepared for the barrage of questions that come up on virtually every topic. In addition, writing has ...

K2. Image from  imgur.com It's not as easy to fail as one might think.  Oh really?  Yes, because a lot of the time what we take to be failure is not. In fact, one could say that many of our ideas about failure (not achieving a desired outcome) are more myth than truth. And I don't mean myth in the sense of a traditional story concerning the early history of a people, a folk tale, but that it is a widely held but false idea. Often our concept of failure is too simple, and we jump to the "F" word quicker than a cat off a hot stove. The equation seems rather straightforward: I want A. I need to do B to accomplish. A. I was unable to complete B.  I did not accomplish A. I failed. Now, wait just a minute. Let's back this up a bit and look at some of the problems with this equation. 1. We assume that A is obvious and very specific. The fact is that the more specific we make our goal, the more likely we will need to adjust it as we go along. Keeping A rather broa...

I bought these shoes because they were cute, even if they didn't quite fit. I finally admitted it was a bad idea and sold them. Let's talk about shame.  You know those places in our lives where we feel ugly, stupid, useless, imperfect, slow, and lazy?  Those things we don't like to talk about?  Those are the places where shame can live.  In general, I am not a person who carries a lot of shame.  For the most part, I love the gift that is my life and bounce joyously into each new day (well, in the mornings I usually drag myself around sluggishly for a few hours, but by mid-afternoon I am close to bouncing).  However, the past few months I have felt a growing dread and dis-ease; it was shame and I didn't even know I was carrying it.  I finally realised it about 2 weeks ago when I saw it in another human being and identified with it.  Now, we all know that shame is counterproductive which is why none of us consciously goes the store, picks up a ...

I have been reading Gregory Boyle's Tattoos on the Heart.   It is filled with stories from the Catholic priest's twenty years of working with gang members in central LA, an area known for its high concentration of gang-related murders.  The stories of founding Homeboy Industries and offering gang members an alternative lifestyle are inspiring, funny, touching, and they garner my deep respect for all that Boyle and his staff and volunteers do for their community.  And the love and patience with which they do it.  But as poignant as the stories are, I don't totally identify with them.  After all, gang life in central LA is pretty far removed from theology studies in Montreal.  And then I came to the chapter called "Success."  And things got close to home real fast. Boyle begins with these words:  "People want me to tell them success stories.  I understand this.  They are the stories you want to t...

One of the things I hate about writing (okay, maybe dislike is a more accurate word) is the number of drafts and edits it takes to come up with something that resembles a coherent and thoughtful piece of work. Another discouraging factor is the amount of time I spend spinning my mental wheels before I come up with an idea that is worth writing about. Hamster time is that period when I go 'round and 'round, trying a thousand different stories in my head, sifting through endless scenarios and possible themes before one of them actually appears feasible as well as interesting. It seems like time wasted, but it is, for the most part, the necessary process to arrive at the one idea that works. This weekend, I have been working on a writing project. I had some inspiration on Friday night while I was talking about it with some of my friends, and I thought it would be a simple thing to put a few lines on paper. I did put some words on paper on Saturday, but after a page of scribb...

You know the feeling when you say something and you realise later, "Oops, perhaps that really wasn't the best thing I could have said?" I had some occasions this week where the words that came out of my mouth didn't really express the sentiments that I wanted them to. Instead, they reflected my impatience and an annoying habit of trying to force things right by my own efforts. I hate it when that happens. It leaves me feeling scummy and a bit paranoid about ever opening my mouth again. It can also lead me down a path of unhelpful introspection where everyone's actions around me become tied into something I did or said wrong, at least in my skewed perspective. I mean, how much more self-centred can one get? The nagging sense of failure clung to me for a few days, even after I apologised to people, and then I received a note from a friend far away. She was recalling some random comment I made to her years ago; it was a fond and funny memory and she wanted me to know...

You don't always hit a home run the first time you swing a bat. When I look back at a lot of different situations in my life, you'd think I would know this by now. But many times I still have the unrealistic expectation of getting things right and making it all come together on the first go. This miscalculation has cost me a lot of hope. And made me drop my faith at times. I have also wasted precious time wallowing in dejected disappointment instead of readying myself for the next swing. I remember the first time Dean and I visited the model condos in an up and coming neighbourhood in Montreal. We loved the open floorplans, the hardwood everywhere, the mezzanine overlooking the living space, and the vaulted ceilings. We also saw the price tag and realised that we could not afford to live there. It became that illusive dream home that we would never have. Ten years after that initial visit, I sit here under my vaulted ceiling a few blocks from that model condo and write this blo...

I don't like failing. I don't like being rejected. I don't like hearing the word, "No." I don't like not getting a job I applied for. I don't like asking someone if they want to get together and having them say they just don't have time right now. I don't like sending messages and never getting a reply. I don't like applying for scholarships and getting that letter that starts with, "We regret to inform you..." I don't like putting myself into scenarios where I am not likely to succeed. And I don't think that I am the only one. But that is exactly what life requires. That we try and try again, failure or not. I have started the process of applying for another scholarship. It is a bit of a mental battle because the rejection email from the last one I applied for is still fresh in my mind. A few weeks ago when I saw the spring round of scholarship deadlines come up, my first thought was, "Hey, I should apply for these....