Gratitude. What’s so special about it, how can we cultivate more of it in our lives and what does it have to do with a wicked case of diarrhea?
Tag: humour
What goes around comes around: Lessons from butt clay
You gotta love instant karma…
Like this story? Then check out my book Misadventure Musings: Lessons learned from life’s awesome and absurd moments.
The power of words: Lessons from mushy French cauliflower
Forget the Eiffel Tower: the most memorable parts of my trip to France were trying not to vomit on my host family and learning to choose my words carefully.
Like this story? Then check out my book Misadventure Musings: Lessons learned from life’s awesome and absurd moments.
What Meghan in the mud taught me about letting go
In the spirit of this story, this week’s Badge of Awesome goes to Caroline D. James for her article on Tiny Buddha “How High Expectations Can Lead to Disappointment, Depression, and Anxiety.” Thanks for the inspiration, Caroline! Continue reading
Keep it Simple: Lessons learned from an idiotic Christmas tree
Putting in extra effort to make an event or experience extra special is great. But sometimes — like my disastrous attempt to find the PERFECT Christmas tree for my mom — you can overdo it.
Like this story? Then check out my book Misadventure Musings: Lessons learned from life’s awesome and absurd moments. Continue reading
Why “Never give up” can be awful advice: Lessons learned from sleeping on a woodpile in a snowstorm
Perseverance and commitment are awesome. But as an ill-fated camping trip in March taught me, sometimes we just need to know when to quit.
How to Break a Bad Habit: Lessons learned from wearing a clay helmet
Growing up, boyhood and bad habits went hand-in-hand. No matter how hard my mother tried to steer us kids in the right direction, we seemed determined to return home for dinner muddy, bloody or both.
The Importance of Community: Lessons learned from chasing a Killer at 2 a.m.
It’s 2 A.M., there’s a killer on the loose, and it’s up to me to catch him…
No, that’s not the opening line to my new thriller novel. That exact situation literally happened to me recently. Now, I really wish I could leave it at that and have you believe I’m some badass secret agent. But I feel obliged to reveal a couple other minor details about that night. Continue reading
Owning Up to Our Mistakes: Lessons learned from getting shot in the eye with a pellet gun
“Kids these days.” It’s a familiar expression used to express disapproval of how far today’s youth have drifted from the virtuous and well-behaved ways of their elders. But you only need to hear a few stories from my dad about his ridiculous childhood shenanigans to see what a crock that is.
Case in point: the fateful Christmas he got a BB gun. Continue reading
Benefits of Camping: Lesssons learned from five farting men in a yurt
Farts. The butt of so many jokes. The joke of so many butts. Growing up, I firmly believed that flatulence was infinitely funny; that cranking one out and laughter went hand in hand. Always.
But a winter camping trip with some friends proved I was wrong. Dead, stinking wrong. Emphasis on the stinking. Continue reading
Failing Your Way to Success: Lessons learned from being blindfolded and left in a farmer’s field
Whenever my extended family gets together you can usually count on three things: a lot of boxed wine, a lot of Euchre and a lot of jackassery. Our Easter celebration a couple years ago delivered on all three counts and included an activity that my Van Osch cousins came up with: the Blindfold Game. Continue reading
Work-Life Balance: Lessons learned from a hay bale to the head
We’ve all heard the expression “I’m buried in work.” Of course, it’s usually meant figuratively. But there was this one time when I got to witness the literal application of this old adage. Continue reading
[Blog] I am a Hobo Torpedo: Friends over stuff
By Josh Martin
“My friends are my estate.” – Emily Dickinson
Waterloo, Ontario—It’s ten-thirty at night and I’m hurtling down a deserted street inside a shopping cart, like some hobo torpedo. As my mobile, metal coffin rattles down the road at mach five I suddenly realize something—I’m an idiot.
It had all started two minutes earlier when my “friend” Royce offered to push me to the local bar in a shopping cart. Royce and I lived together in university with four other buddies in a dump of a student house on Marshall Street, a few blocks from the bar we were headed to. Never one to pass up a free ride, I accepted the shopping cart offer without a second thought.
I sat in the shopping cart facing forward and cheered Royce on as he pushed me faster and faster down the darkened street. Before long, my courage faltered.
“OK, Royce!” I yelled over the clatter of the rattling shopping cart. “Slow down!… Slow down, Royce!… ROYCE!?”
The cart showed no signs of slowing down. I risked a glance over my shoulder to sternly insist that my good and trusted friend stop the cart immediately. Unfortunately, my good and trusted friend was now twenty yards behind me with a stupid grin on his face. He had let go of the cart and sent me hurtling into the night.
Turning forward once again I realized that I was drifting to the right. To my horror I found myself heading straight for a fire hydrant. I vainly attempted to extricate myself from my impending doom. But leaping from a speeding shopping cart is more difficult then you might imagine.
I crashed squarely into the hydrant and was launched from the cart as if from a catapult. I flipped head over heels, cleared the fire hydrant and landed on my back in the grass on the other side with a dull thud.
Yup, I thought to myself. I’m an idiot.
A good reminder for myself
My life on Marshall Street was far from luxurious. We lived in a house that was near collapse. Our diets would make any nutritionist weep. All our furniture was second-hand and exuded a wide range of odours. None of us owned a car. And if our bank accounts were towns from the Wild West, there’d be tumbleweeds rolling through them.
And yet, despite the squalor in which we willingly spent our days and nights, I’ve never laughed so hard or had so much fun. Some of my greatest memories, like being launched from a shopping cart, are from those days in university and I think it says a lot about what’s really important in life.
Principle #2 of the Badge of Awesome Ethos: experiential riches trump material wealth.
Our culture places a lot of emphasis on high-paying jobs, big houses, cars, and other material benchmarks of success. In pursuit of these acquisitions however, we often sacrifice time and relationships with the people that make life so memorable.
Before making a decision, consider the social implications. Maybe buying that new big screen TV will mean you can’t afford to go on that camping weekend with the old gang. And maybe that house in the ‘burbs is big and awesome. But will it mean being far away from the people you enjoy hanging out with?
Cherish your friendships don’t let the material stuff in life get in the way of them. If that means riding a shopping cart to the bar instead of a Ferrari, then I say giddy’up—as long as Royce isn’t driving, of course.
The above story is actually adapted from my book, Simple(ton) Living: Lessons in balance from life’s absurd moments. Check out the Store to find out how you can get your own copy.