Life Coaching, Observations, Reflections, Things that make you go hmmmmm
Lyric
(chorus)
Once upon a time, there was a time
Wasn’t much in way of reasoning
Ignored all your flashing eyes warning signs
(verse)
From here to there and back to there from here
Can’t quite keep straight what I’m supposed to do
Don’t quite know where I’m supposed to go
This lovin’ baby of mine, got me so I just don’t know
When she’s here she’s gone somewhere else
The calls keep dropping, she can’t say why
Got so many questions you’re going to have to hear
Any one answer could break this lovin’ heart
(chorus)
Once upon a time, there was a time
Wasn’t much in way of reasoning
Ignored all your flashing eyes warning signs
(verse)
More and more feeling I’ve made myself blind
I don’t know what’s got you getting in so late
Would you let me know if you’d found a new flame
Wondering how much more of your lovin’ I can take
Desires died, just like pissing out the fire at night
Almost believe it’s how you wanted this to go
This disinterest is our death so we gotta part
No grave yard sighs, thanks for the lovin’ and goodbye
(chorus end)
Once upon a time, there was a time
Wasn’t much in way of reasoning
Should of paid attention to your signs of the times
G.R. Hambley ©
October 24, 2017
A long time ago I planned to teach. Knew the what and where I wanted to do the teaching. The plan made sense with logical order and progression. A couple seconds on a highway, and the plan had to change.
The desire to teach never went away. I coached a bit of hockey. Got my “Life Coach” formal accreditation in July 2010. Coaching is teaching.
On August 17, 2010 I pulled the trigger on something I’ve given serious consideration to doing for about a year. I build triggers in to people with their help, that is why I chose to say trigger. I’ve built them in to myself as well. Like everyone else, those triggers don’t always engage.
A long time coming and the times they are a changin’!
I am now 10 days in to a TEFL course. TEFL is, “Teach English as a Foreign Language”.
There are a number of courses to choose from out there in the cyber world. The one I chose is in conjunction with OISE (Ontario Institute of Studies in Education) and University of Toronto. Lots of choices, caveat emptor, you get what you pay for.
Now that I appear to be through the “Retraining Camp” with all those parts of speech, reading and writing reconstituted in my brain, it is on to where I can show off my skill set. It’s education; you’re expected to show and tell your skill set off.
It’s been a long time since I’ve written for a higher education audience. I’m finding it challenging and stimulating. In the showing off, gotta show them you know the stuff while not sacrificing your personal writing style. That presumes that you can and do write, creatively.
I’m enjoying the formal learning. Enjoying this learning like never before. Probably has something to do with my love of the word.
This arrived in my mail and gave me reason to take a 5 minute laughing break. I’m a tad wired in to this stuff and that laughter arrived at exactly the right time.
I don’t care that people were looking at me funny and not funny ha ha. Not like people haven’t looked at me funny before when I’m laughing in public.
So why “The Final Act”? Well it’s partly this way, not going to be looking to add on any more disciplines. You’ll learn stuff as you move along that are relevant to you and it is all about you so please pay attention.
Some of the things you learn leave you no choice but to move on them.
I’ll never stop learning. I am the epitome of the educational goal, a lifetime learner.
TEFL and then teaching are, barring living forever, my final act. Don’t know how long the show is gonna be on the road. Maybe forever. Some people I know have spoken of ones they know who didn’t come back.
Me, I see it being until I can’t travel anymore. I’ve got a couple other ideas percolating that aren’t ready for public consumption.
Age is part of the reason I’m doing this. Talk about duality.
These two characters perfectly illustrate my feeling. I was going to use “Baby New Year” crawling after “Father Time”. Yes, these are both me some; couples of decades apart.
Personal status is another reason. There is nothing to keep me here. Winter is getting more difficult to cope with. I have a skill set that with this formal add on presents me the opportunity to teach English pretty much anywhere in the world.
Part of the decision to do this is about practicing what I preach and making my little piece of the world better.
In a recent tale, I said I’m older and better than when I was a twenty something. Well 3 decades later, I better get seeing what I wanna see before older doesn’t allow it.
I don’t have a bucket list. In supposition, you could say teaching is in that bucket pail if you like.
Y’all think my learners are gonna have good time with English? Reminds me I’m going to have to let Microsoft know that “MS WORD” doesn’t recognize “Y’all” as the compound word we know it is. That’s okay, I’ll recognize it.
I’ve stated a number of times I’m a proponent of the global village. I’ve stated that one of the things that has got to go to achieve that village is multilingualism. To communicate there can be only one language.
I’ve never said until here what I think the language should be. I’m still not saying what the language should be. I’m just doing my part to help it be English.
Sure I am an irreverent but I’m not an inconsiderate. I also know what “Modicum of decorum” is and practice it, daily.
I’m a lot of things and should this last lap leave my legacy as being a teacher who could write and not a writer who can teach, I’m good.
If it all goes according to plan, It will also mean that for my final act, I did something real good, for myself, for others and the words I love.
G.R. Hambley ©
August 27, 2017
Lyric
Walking on home alone,
that old bell softly chimes
Passing right on by,
the tower bell strikes again
Falling farther behind
that niggling bell tolls once more
now it’s gone to three
world’s turning quietly
alone in the night
and it’s mostly alright
if only you were here…
if only you were here with me…
Feels like I’m missing
more than a few chimes of my own
Wondering why I even said
this place isn’t striking me as home
Really starting to understand
It’s me for whom that bell is tolling
Everything tangling me up
get so damned lost sometimes
Mind turning it end over round
keep expecting that lost key to show
Walking around thinking way too much
hoping this magic hasn’t got lost
now it’s half past three
world’s turning quietly
alone in the night
and it’s not alright
if only, if only you were here…
if only, if only…
if only you were here with me…
If only I could just walk over
leave this lost feeling behind
If only I could just touch your smile
let you see love isn’t lost
If only I could so tenderly say
only my mind was lost
now it’s long, long past three
world’s brightening quickly
alone in the light
and it’s gonna get right
it wasn’t freedom chiming
the lightning did strike
now it’s time to pay the toll
if only…
if only…
if only you’ll believe
believe when I say I’m sorry
G.R. Hambley ©
August 01, 2017
There are times when a chance encounter will forever stay memorable. Of course this is one of those times or I wouldn’t be telling me about it so I can tell you about it.
A woman and her two daughters took the table beside me late one Sunday afternoon. Mom unknowingly knocked my plug lose from the outlet when she sat down on the long bench we share in this cafe.
“Hee Sun” is the woman’s name and she is a creative. Hee Sun and her daughters are South Korean. I learned this in conversation with mom.
Thus begins a tale of enchanting encounter and wonder.
Apology was made for knocking out the plug. Assurances given that there was no need for sorry and no harm was done.
The lady stands and reseats herself after I’ve returned the plug to the outlet. Where the outlets are in this cafe, decorum demands you either put the plug in for someone or get out of the way. Not doing so could lead to an incident which in this case would have been an international incident and who needs those?!
It’s difficult to not see what is up on someone’s computer when you’re settling yourself in to place. Hey if it were something that private you wouldn’t be working on that something in a cafe.
I had some art and poetry I was working on up on my computer and Mom saw it when she sat back down. Hee Sun asked she me about what she saw.
Doesn’t happen often and I’ve done it myself, commented on something I’ve seen that’s art. Made a couple nice friendships that way but I don’t advise trying it unless you’re a creative. A little understanding and perspective folks. Understanding that there are personable people and that being personable is a good thing is a nice start.
I could have shut off any conversation right quick just be putting my ear buds in. Not like I haven’t done it before and won’t do it again. Sometimes when I got the buds in they’re just in so I don’t have to listen to anything and by anything I also mean anyone.
We start to talk and Hee Sun tells me she has written a children’s book and the illustrations are done by the daughter who is at home in South Korea.
The two daughters (I do not know their names) were graduating McGill and Mom had come from South Korea for the girls commencement. They had a few days here in Toronto; then a couple days in Montreal for the exercise and back to Toronto for a few more days.
Choosing Toronto over Montreal to tour, good choice. Toronto is the most cosmopolitan city in the world. Landing here in “Community Mine”, lucky for me and lucky for Mom.
We can have the Toronto vs Montreal debate another time.
So me and she talked. We shared our thoughts about poetry and art. We talked a bit about her two graduating girls. We talked about how we’re all the same.
Sun Hee and me talked for about an hour as the girls amused themselves with their phones. The girls will be staying here and looking for jobs. We talked about that too.
Oh alas, oh woe is me. They’re grown up and they’re staying here and they’ll be so far away from their dear mother. If you’re thinking the lament of this South Korean Mother is the same as a Canadian mother or an American Mother or Jewish Mother, you’d be correct. You’d be correct because we’re all the same.
It wasn’t that extreme but Hee Sun was feeling the separation anxiety.
She read a couple of my poems and a narrative of mine. We went through them together as Hee Sun read aloud. She apologized for English once as she went to one of her daughters for help with better understanding the English through Korean.
Hee Sun showed me the cover of her book on her phone. She said she had one copy at the hotel and would send it to me. You see the book she sent me in the first image.
I mentioned her 3rd daughter did the illustrations for the book and they are terrific. Strangely or maybe not, the mom in the book looks similar to Hee Sun. Maybe it’s just because they have the same hair-do. Nah, it’s deeper than that.
I introduced the lady to John Donne and like so many, she knew Donne without knowing it’s John Donne. I told Hee Sun that I have a good friend who after reading Mr. Donne’s Ye Olde English, decided that any future spelling errors would be attributed to Ye Olde English. The lady smiled at that.
Hee Sun spent a semester at Harvard and did a trail visiting the places of poets renowned in England. She likes the Romance poets and now has another romance poet she likes, me.
I had this conversation a couple weeks ago (June 04, 2017) and I’ve run the encounter past some of those in this “Community Mine” that I’m friends with. The thing about those people in my community and I point it out to them as we talk, they’re the same as me and Sun Hee and another friend of mine who is a mom and lives in South Africa.
We are all the same. We all want the same things.
A decent place to live.
Enough to eat.
Some work.
Some leisure.
That’s it folks. All she wrote. Simple stuff. We all want the same because we are all the same.
“Good Friend” saw this piece pretty close to the completion point. It was asked by Good Friend, “What about love?”. I don’t know if we all want love and I’ll take that up elsewhere.
I didn’t set out on this enchanting encounter of mine to tug at heart strings. What we two were talking about, how could it not? It could only not tug the heart at least a little if we aren’t the same.
Hee Sun provided me with her address and she will be receiving a letter from me. There is so much wonderful in a real letter, a hand written letter. Tactile and tangible and on occasion, scented.
Our conversation was worldly and I loved every minute of it. I’m going to tell her so by hand.
I went and had a look at where Hee Sun lives in Korea, Gimpo and it is pronounced, “Kimpo”. If you’re aged enough and were a fan of MASH, you’ve heard that name before.
The first return in the search brought me a bit from a wiki, Gimpo, directly across the Han river is North Korea.
I can’t even fathom living that. Sure I understand the political just fine but I can’t even grasp living with that situation in my backyard.
I will ask Hee Sun in the letter I write her to try and tell me how she feels about living with that threat as she does and I hope she’ll reply. I will be relating and asking other things as well.
Hee Sun told me she plays the guitar and sings. I’m thinking if I ask nicely, perhaps she’ll tell me a musical story.
G.R. Hambley ©
June 19, 2017
I had a grand plan. I came up with a work around regarding an emotional attachment. Then I discovered something so close to the culmination that I do know; complete the research before beginning enactment of your grand plan.
I’d planned, quietly, letting my hair grow to donate it. Three people were told of my plan as it was getting close to cutting the tail time for this tale. As far as anyone was concerned through the growing, I was just growing the pony tail because I really like it, which I do.
I’ve been doing this for a LONG time!
I’ve written about walking the talking you do. I don’t know how many times I’ve said to people, “I do what I can” and I do.
I wrote another piece about me opting out on the pink in October campaign and why.
Another factor in my decision to grow out my hair for donation was familial. Some serious irony in this man’s passing.
The emotional attachment, I love my pony tail, I really do. The work around, let it grow for another couple months and then I’d still have enough to both donate and keep the tail going. A win/win situation.
The reason my pony tail won’t be accepted, I have more than 5% grey in my hair. You can read all about donating your hair for cancer here. The fact that the wig program is just for women (also news to me) and therefore not equal is to my mind, so unfair. I’m okay with the women only designation though.
I’m told by a woman that I related my tail tale of woe to, she’d thought of doing the same, donating her hair. The reasoning for not more than 5% grey I’m told is because grey hair cannot be dyed.
Been doing the managing of this mop that long too!
I’ve related what I’ve encountered to ½ a dozen people now. Those people can’t understand why grey hair wouldn’t be wanted. Perhaps we should get the People at “Pantene Beautiful Lengths” in touch with the people at “Dove” and their campaign for real beauty.
My audience during one of my relatings, a woman and a man. We were talking a bit about the grey factor. I said that (there’s that damn modicum of decorum again) I’ve seen older women with the silver/grey look and they were smokin’. The man laughed at the older women comment and I told him I was looking for a frame of reference.
Had there not been a woman present and he’d laughed after what I’d said, my comment after reference would have been vastly different. Don’t ask!
Yes I’m emotionally present, a romance poet and still a guy!
Perhaps the grand plan of some other entity was for my plan to come apart so I’d write the tale and share it with the world.
I do what I can do. The donation of my hair was something I really wanted to do. It would be doing as I say in a number of ways, “Making my little piece of the world better”.
I make my little piece better, you make your little piece better, we got a better world. Simple stuff really.
G.R. Hambley ©
June 06, 2016
Curios
Mine is mine and to each their own
so whom are we to pass judgement
One’s choices predicated upon
by how you my dear individual perceive
Reapers, the purveyors of goods grim
honouring both dollar and ritual
But just because you can
does it mean you should indulge the macabre
Incendiary with a highly volatile fuse
fostering unspoken mortification
Done from love by loss
as inherently personal as love’s little death
Memories tactile, both taking away
and in embracing the pain
Open wide to holding up a mirror
reflection upon your hurting self
Morbid, magnificent, maudlin, majestic
what else could be said of selections such
Each and every with their unique curio
memory memorabilia a curious thing
Nature ‘tis of we mournful beasts
displaying in so many ways
Turning cheek, both other and off if you please
my crass, your cats ass
One tap, two tap, three, forever remains in me
G.R. Hambley ©
June 01, 2017
I made an error in formatting on the original post. The error is now corrected. The poetry has not changed.
We are about a year away from the next election in Ontario. The “No Wynne” Liberals are in full save their collective of asses mode.
Billion dollar scandals; The Liberals are infamous for billion dollar scandals! Over paying for electricity, multiple billions in the dumping of surplus electricity, not building gas plants and of course an oldie and a real goodie, the Billion dollar scandal attached to eHealth Ontario.
I’ve been dealing with chronic pain for almost ½ my life. First week of June I’ll be going to a new to me pain clinic. There is nothing of my past history following me around that is readily available to the staff of that clinic. Nothing they can review prior to seeing me for the first time. There is no historical data to compare against.
I’m going to have to relate everything, again. I’m going to have to fill out the same condition information sheets, again. I’m going to have to sign releases, again. I have to do these things all again because there is nothing attached to me for clinic staff to review.
Fortunately, I keep pretty fair records and they are all electronic. The information I’ve got will still require review. We’re going from ground zero and we shouldn’t have to. Part of the reason we have to start over when there is a change, because of the Billion dollar eHealth mess up courtesy of Ontario’s Governing Liberals.
True Wynne wasn’t Premiere in 2009 and McGuinty was. Also true Wynne and her Liberals have screwed up eHealth even more. With performance as the yardstick, I have to believe patronage with Wynne’s brother-in-law attached to eHealth.
Let me make it easy for you and me, your search parameter is, “Kathleen Wynne eHealth Ontario”. You aint gonna like it.
Signing the release to obtain is no guarantee what is being asked for is going to be delivered by the record holder to the record owner, me.
Two requests were made to obtain by my current doctor of my previous doctor. The requests went unanswered.
I’ve had the who owns the records conversation briefly with 2 different doctors over the last couple days. We all agree, the records belong to the patient. Without the patient there are no records to make.
You can get a vehicle repair/maintenance report from a dealership on a used vehicle you are purchasing. If the vehicle is plugged in to the system you get what has been entered. The dealership or mechanics that have worked on the vehicle don’t own the records, the vehicle owner does.
No more should we ever be having a problem with accessing our health records. The capability is here.
Is it fair to have a doctor go back 20 years and convert the patient file to “E” format? No, it isn’t. Is it unreasonable in this age for a doctor to be providing “E” data to the rightful owner after a current visit, no. The vehicle owner gets the mechanics report so why wouldn’t an individual get a report on their machine from the mechanic doctor?
Yes I understand there are a number of hurdles but the end goal is attainable. The end goal is for an individual to be able to control their own historical health information. The end goal would be much closer had Ontario’s Liberals not blown that Billion dollars.
Does Ontario’s Premiere Wicked Witch Wynne really care about the people as she would now have you believe? Electricity rate reduction and high speed rail Toronto – Windsor corridor to name a couple recent carrots being dangled for the proletariat.
“No Wynne” doesn’t care about the people and never has. Shouldn’t hold that against her though. I can’t name any politicians that care about the people. If they did, those politicians would get their party leaders in touch with the peoples anger and voice.
Kathleen Wynne does care about her bullying agenda and telling people what is absolutely best for them. Give Wynne pushback and she brands you or plays a card. The exception being showing up at her doorstep. Do that and then she’ll bend over and kiss your butt.
I came to these conclusions based on Wynne’s performance and oddly enough, Wynne’s lack of performance. You can bet big that Wynne and her Provincial Liberals are on board with the Federal Liberals in trying to eradicate free speech. See Federal Motion, M-103.
How soon do you think the Liberals will introduce “Governmentaphobia” in to a revised motion? All so you can’t talk about government with the scorn and disgust they so richly deserve!
I’ve used and will continue to use this Heritage Plaque that I pass 3 or 4 times a week. We as Ontarians and Canadians are entitled to a certain standard and we just aren’t getting it. Municipal to Provincial to Federal, we aren’t getting what we’re entitled to.
It isn’t wrong to be angry. It isn’t wrong to be vocal. What you do with the anger and the voice can be wrong. Those who would like to make you eat your anger and shut off your voice, that is called emotionally controlling and they’re the ones who are wrong.
Ontario’s next election is on or before June 07, 2018, be relevant!
G.R. Hambley May 27, 2017
All rights reserved
Medical Assisted Dying Bill C-14
Souls old, souls new, souls lost, some hoping desperately to be found
Philosophers, perambulators and pals, the odd sniff of pretention
Hims and hers, some that are, quite honestly, deeply confused
Every face, should you care, bringing a unique study in story
Retro and metro, and for others, the splendour that is sartorial
Eye on a passing thigh and my oh my is that Rebel Circus I spy
Open minds, open hearts, open conversations and well who knew
Faces from faraway places, happily in a space that has no races
Accountants, Aides to Teaching, but if you can’t say without preaching
Cups of coffee, gallons of conversation and Sugar when it’s Psunday*
Quips and quills, more than a few spills, splotches of great delusion
Untold stories, stories shared, stories that will be woven by me
Aged, ageless, those just beginning to write their journey for the ages
In they tromp, costumed and not, cute as buttons, kids enjoying theatre
New ones in 21st century jolly jumpers, jump dad jump, gee thanks mom
Thespians, orators, of both the professional and amateur ranks rant
As life goes on all around you, yours for the sharing, it’s no illusion
Names and faces, you come to know, as you do enjoyment grows
Contacts, connections, conversations in confidence, all do ensue
Elves wearing bells bearing versions of coffee, catch me one if you can
G.R. Hambley ©
May 09, 2017
Yesterday was April 30th, the end of “Testicular Cancer Awareness Month”.
Also yesterday, I was asked to put an 8 Ball emoji on my FB page for “Prostrate Cancer Awareness”.
I told the individual that asked I wasn’t saying no but I’d have something to say on the subject.
I don’t like to override myself. I like to give my postings 3 or 4 days before putting up something new. Exceptions to the rule and rule carefully those exceptions. I got a personal beaut too.
Causes, we all have them and most people are of the mind that their cause is the cause everyone should get behind. If you aren’t on board with them then you’re some kind of something they can stick a label on.
In my travels through April I saw no mention of what April represented on the cancer frontline. I’m talking about usual moving around in the core of my city. No special deals with a percentage going to research for testicular cancer. I got my face in a knot over this lack of male consideration in a piece I wrote about opting out on pink in October.
I was enlightened by a member of my community that one of those major entities I note in the no pink for me has changed the way they do things. This would also be a lesson in being at the least personable, and even better outgoing within your community. You do meet some terrific people.
I don’t know how far reaching the cancer campaign for, “Lady Balls” was. For the uninitiated, Lady Balls are ovaries. That was the crux of the campaign, ladies got balls. Appealing to those feminists sans vagina and FemiNazis everywhere no doubt. Pissing off more than a few along the way with the approach too.
Someone close to me went to Ovarian cancer. I know what it’s about. I can even use the real words that represent the condition. I also happen to believe you shouldn’t be cute when it comes to health matters. That doesn’t mean you should be brutal either.
We in the 1st world are pushed at electronically on a daily basis. Push technology assaulting us when we the people want pull technology. No one likes being pushed.
Showing what cause(s) you’re behind is a good thing. Showing and telling people in your own space where they can learn more about or support the cause, also a good thing. Quietly asking someone for a hand for your cause as was the case with my being asked to post the 8 Ball, another good thing.
In the moment I have my own causes to consider and the things I need to do to be done.
G.R. Hambley May 1st, 2017
Lyric
What you’re seeing is the font I write in. I’ve never been enamoured with the formatting options here at WP so on occasion, I work around the lack of options.
Spinsters
Stories making the rounds
none to be believed
none to be trusted
careful not to get busted
Those new age spinsters
dishing up their gospel
dishing up who’s in hospital
careful not to go to hell
Telling you what you should
dirt found on every track
dirt found in every attack
careful not to take it in the back
got yourself busted
took yourself to hell
won’t be coming back
Spinning hucksters wheel going round and round
Running freedom down in to the ground
Round and round…
Down in to the ground…
Going to take more than a frown…
Spew in streaming sensaround
feel that whole mind invasion
feel that total frustration
mold to fit the compilation
Spoon feeding the grand plan
using grins from ear to ear
using anything that will adhere
mold never stops injecting fear
Making the conscious beginning
listen to that self interested person
listen to that warning of treason
mold resolve to your reason
turn your dial to decompile
take hold of your fear
fill your head with reason
Spinning hucksters wheel going round and round
Running freedom down in to the ground
Round and round…
Down in to the ground…
Going to take more than a frown…
G.R. Hambley ©
April 22, 2017
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