I’ve temporarily run out of stories to tell, so I’ve put out a call for you to share your stories here. If you have a story to share, please let me know! Today’s story — uncut and unedted — is from Brendan Baker. It’s the kind of story we all need to remember, and gave me a reason to pause and reflect on just how blessed I really am.

This is Debenew. He shined my shoes today.

Anybody with remotely nice shoes is constantly approached by shoe-shiners. My instinct is generally to say no. I think this is a Canadian thing. I’m used to egalitarianism. There’s a small amount of discomfort having somebody do these tasks for me, shoes, laundry. I end up thanking much more than is normal.

But today, as with some days, I agreed. ‘Waga sente no?’ ‘And Birr.’ One Birr. ‘Eshe’. The clincher was the fact that he’s working. Not begging. Trying to bring in some small amount of money for him or his family. maybe 10 Birr per day. And I’d much rather support people working than begging, which does little to help the long term problems. My rationale, my gut decision, was that it was a productive action. A tiny contribution, based on effectiveness.

We headed over to the shade and he got to work, pulling a rag, brushes and cream out of his wooden box. Cleaning my shoes, brushing them clean and shining them, all punctuated by the tap on the box signaling a shoe switch.

It was during this time that I looked at him carefully. All 6 or 7 years of him. He was so businesslike. So determined. Professional, actually. And the kid was all of 7 years old. In Canada, he would be just starting school. A little coddled maybe. Soccer practice, art lessons. Doted on by grandparents. New Nikes.

Here he is busting his ass for about a buck a day.

I realized again why people start orphanages here. Support schools. Not all of these efforts are well thought-out or designed, but I’ll bet most are triggered by what I felt while looking at Debenew: this kid deserves better than this. He’s been put in his situation, and working through it, diligently and without complaint. It was an emotional attachment that shifted my motivation from effectiveness to compassion. I left him 4 birr.

Thanks to Brendan for today’s story. Have a story to tell? I’ve run out, so please share your own!

I’ve temporarily run out of stories to tell, so I’ve put out a call for you to share your stories here. If you have a story to share, please let me know! Today’s story — uncut and unedted — is from Karim Kanji. It’s a perfectly-timed post about someone he finds inspirational, so it only makes sense to post it today.

Many of you who know Vasta know that outside of being a great story teller and student of people’s, he is also a social media…student. I’ve had a chance to listen a a few of his podcasts and am amazed that this former Boy Scout is so technologically talented.

I’m not. Which is why I enjoy Nora Young.

Nora Young is host of Spark. Spark is a CBC show, a blog and a community of sorts. Check it out at cbc.ca/spark.

The reason I enjoy Spark and Nora Young is because of her take on technology. You see, Spark is a show about technology. But it’s more than that. It’s a show about today’s life — which just happens to be happening at a time of massive technological change, shift and development.

Nora has a way of presenting her program that speaks to me — a person who uses technology and social media but is not a student nor professional user of these tools.

Yesterday I had the chance to hear her speak about her show and technology during a Third Tuesday Toronto get together. And I also took the time to tell her my thoughts about her show and how I am able to enjoy it because of her style.

So, thank you Nora Young for widening the circle and allowing the rest of us to participate in today’s technology shifts.

Thanks to Karim for today’s story. Have a story to tell? I’ve run out, so please share your own!

I’ve temporarily run out of stories to tell, so I’ve put out a call for you to share your stories here. If you have a story to share, please let me know! Today’s story — uncut and unedted — is from Tony Tung. It made me chuckle, mainly because I can relate.

So I finished four exams this morning and realized that it was my sister’s fiance’s birthday today. I hadn’t gotten him anything and was going to visit the two of them at their home next weekend. I’d better make use of this opportunity to shop for a gift.

Across the street from school is a Chapters and I recently got an iRewards card, so it was a logical choice. Who doesn’t read these days?

After about five seconds of browsing, I thought of a book by someone Isb-something about something to do with Canada. He’d probably like that. So I decided to seek it out. I didn’t find it immediately (or ever), but I did find a cute salesgirl who I decided was making eye contact with me because she thought I was something special to look at too. But I was on a mission and could not be bothered.

About another five seconds later, I asked her for a recommendation. And she was awesome. We spent somewhere between 5 – 10 minutes going between a few sections, talking about the books that she likes (some selections involving zombies, some graphic novels), the kind of guy that my sister’s fiance is so that we could continue to (obstensibly) look for a great gift, and something about how her dad is a big fan of Conan the Barbarian comics. She was awesome.

Near the end of that, VERY near the end of that, she was talking about a book, a book that I was holding in my very hands, when she said something along the lines of, “…my husband really liked that book too”.

“Y’Goddamnit!” was what went through my head as I noticed that she was (subtly) wearing a ring.

And that, ladies, is how you get some guy to buy four books from you at Chapters.

Thanks to Tony for today’s story. Have a story to tell? I’ve run out, so please share your own!

I think I’ve run out of stories to tell.

Okay, that’s not entirely true: I’m still meeting fascinating people, learning lots of great things, and having some really exciting adventures. I just haven’t had the urge to turn all of that into stories recently, and that’s why you’ve noticed a serious lack of updates for the past little while.

There are stories to tell, and they’ll be told soon enough, but for now, I need your help.

While I sit here and figure out the when, how, and why of the stories I have to tell, I’d love for you to share your own.

Tell your stories.

If you have a story to tell — an encounter, something you’ve learned, something you’ve felt, or just a deep truth you need to share — send it to me and I’ll post it up here. You’ll get full credit for it, of course, and I’ll link back to whatever you want me to link to, and you get all the kudos.

I know a lot of you have your own sites and blogs where you share your thoughts and ideas, so I’m not going to be presumptuous and assume you’d want to share them here too. But if you don’t have a place to share, or if you’re looking to reach a new (and decently large) audience, let me know. As I like to say, my home (ie, this site) is your home.

If you don’t want to share, that’s fine too. I just hope you don’t mind if things go a little quiet here for the next little while. I’ll be back soon enough.

Thanks for understanding.

(Photo by tomswift46.)

Everyone has that one teacher in their youth that changes the direction of their life and opens doors to new and exciting perspectives on the world. Nico Bethel was that teacher for me. Nico was my anthropology professor in high school; she introduced me to a subject that was foreign to me when I got to the school and eventually became my main area of study in university and the grounding framework for the work I do now. But Nico didn’t just teach. She encouraged exploration, questioning, argument. She encouraged play.

There were no lectures in class: instead, there were vivid discussions, role-playing, field trips, and self-guided learning. We were encouraged to do our learning outside the classroom — to bring theory into practice by observing daily interactions on campus and subsequently engaging in analysis. Motivated by Nico’s passion for the subject and her ability to understand the unique learning styles of each and every single one of her students, I came to the realization that the study of human society and culture was truly what I wanted to do when it came to pursuing post-secondary education.

Today, I want to thank Nico Bethel for being inspirational.

Nico Bethel’s ability to think of creative ways to explore and approach learning and teaching is something I strive for constantly. I strongly encourage you all to check out Nico’s blog and her essays on life if you haven’t seen them already. They have been, and continue to be, and inspiration to me.

Every Sunday for the next little while, I’ll be writing one or two paragraphs about people that inspire me as a kind of thank you for making me want to do and be better. Who inspires you?

Just before noon yesterday, I walked out of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum determined to return soon to explore the exhibits that tell the tale of a particularly sad and horrific time of human history.

Just after noon yesterday, a man walked in to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum and opened gunfire, killing Stephen Tyrone Johns and gripping us all in fear.

I’ll admit, my first thoughts as the news came in were of dread and despair: I had just left the Museum an hour before the shooting, and all I could remember was the massive groups of children there, learning and playing and interacting. And I thought of them, reading and hearing about the atrocities of the past while witnessing other atrocities right there, in their present.

My next thoughts were of sadness: a child lost a father, a family lost a loved one, the world lost a good man because of the hatred of another. In a solemn place created to honor the memory of those who suffered from the hatred of others, hate had once more claimed a casualty.

My next, and most overpowering emotion, was of fear: the selfish fear that had I left less than hour later, I could have been caught in the tragedy; the communal fear that this kind of unpredictable act of violence could happen at any time; the irrational fear that this cycle of violence could never be broken.

Fear.

It was only when, later in the day, I looked at the two tickets in my pocket for a return visit to the Museum that I realized that by succumbing to this fear, I was falling prey to the exact emotions that the gunman wanted us to feel. The gunman wanted to disrupt a place where visitors go to confront hatred and remember to prevent violence, and turn it into a place of apprehension and nervous fear.

I realized that instead of putting away my tickets and waiting for my psyche to settle from this horrific tragedy, I needed to remind myself that the Holocaust Memorial Museum exists for that exact reason: for us to confront horrors and tragedy to reflect on how we can learn to never let them happen again.

I am going to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum this weekend. I’m going to go there to remember the lives that were lost in the Holocaust, remember the life of Stephen Tyrone Johns that was lost in yesterday’s shooting, and remember the lives of people around the world that are crippled by fear after tragedy. If you’re in DC, I’d love for you to join me.

(Photo by Jonathan Newton, The Washington Post)

Last week was a bit of a rough week. I’m okay with admitting that.

I was juggling a few issues in my personal life and a few deliverables on the work side, and on top of all of that, I re-aggravated an old knee injury making it hard for me to walk, much less go out of my apartment.

On Thursday evening, after a particularly difficult day, I started receiving an entire slew of messages on Twitter, all very cryptic, and all coming from SMOO.

I won’t go into the details as to what SMOO is, but let’s just say they are a group of some of the most wonderful, motivated, innovative, and brilliant people working together in an office at the Government of Ontario.

These messages talked about pineapples and cheese and Fanta and bread. They talked traffic and knocks on my door and about saving my appetite. In a painkiller haze, I, for the life of me, could not figure out what was going on.

Until I got a knock on my door.

When I opened the door, the delivery man from Papa John’s looked at me and said, “Pizza delivery from Toronto. Hope you feel better.” With that, he handed me my pizza (with my favorite toppings on it) and my drink and left.

It turns out that the lovely people at SMOO called Papa John’s to find out what my last pizza order was, got them to duplicate that order and send it out to me. On a week when I needed some smiles — and definitely needed some help making food because of my limited mobility — they delivered a pizza party to my door.

This event — as well as various acts of kindness throughout the past few weeks from some of the people closest to me in my life — reminded me, when I needed reminding most, that I have some of the most wonderful friends in the world. And it reminded me that we all have ups and downs, and in those times where we’re not doing so great, it’s okay to reach out and seek help from the people that love and care for us.

It may seem weak to ask for help and to depend on the kindness of others when we need a hand. It’s not. Instead, it’s a demonstration of strength that you’re willing to trust the people around you and willing to accept that other people care for your well-being too.

I’m not always good at asking for help, but knowing that I have friends — like the kind folks at SMOO — who are looking out for me makes asking for help much easier to do. Thank you.

A few years ago, a friend of mine told me that she was interested in taking her baking hobby and turning it into a bona fide business. I encouraged her, of course — she did, after all, make wonderful cookies and cupcakes — but to be honest, I never really did follow up on her dream of running her own luxury dessert business.

Over a year ago, that same friend, Catherine Chen, launched Sugar Baking. I’m proud to say I’m the most avid member of her fan club, but not just because she makes the most delicious baked goods (oh my god they’re so good). I’m her biggest fan because she’s proof that with passion and hard work, any dream can come true. Cath worked on Sugar Baking in her spare time between work and other parts of her life, and she continues to craft the most creative and exciting desserts I have ever seen all the while holding down another job. Cath is the shining example of a person who cares so much about the quality of her work and the love she has for it that her hobby has now practically become a career.

Today, I want to thank Catherine Chen for being inspirational.

Catherine Chen’s creative and never-say-no spirit is something I strive for constantly. I strongly encourage you all to check out the Sugar Baking website and Catherine’s fantastic Flickr stream for more about her wonderfully-creative custom desserts. They have been, and continue to be, and inspiration to me. Also, her desserts taste so good.

And I know I’ve said it before, but I’m going to say it again: Cath, I’m proud of you. And I’m proud to call you a friend.

Every Sunday for the next little while, I’ll be writing one or two paragraphs about people that inspire me as a kind of thank you for making me want to do and be better. Who inspires you?

I recently got a letter from a very dear friend of mine where she addressed some of the concerns I’ve been having with regards to my career trajectory. While I enjoy what I do for a living, I’m still a bit unsure that I want to continue doing it in a few years.

As part of her letter, she made me a list of occupations she thought would be a good fit for me based on my personality and character. Here’s her list:

• Teacher
• Librarian
• Professional Smile Maker (with a badge)
• Poet
• Restaurant Critic
• Tailor
• Florist
• Interior Designer

This list tells me a few important things. First, that my friend really knows me well because all of the above occupations seem to be perfect fits for me (that is, of course, if we don’t count the qualification component: I definitely don’t have the skill to be something like a tailor or interior designer) and reflect what kind of impact I want to have on the world.

Second, that there seems to be two clear themes that guide my current existence: connecting and sharing with people, and the appreciation of everyday beauty. Each of those professions listed above either involve an appreciation of the aesthetic (whether that be the beauty of the written word, of food, of nature, of clothing, or of the built environment) or an appreciation of the potential of people.

(If someone would pay for my rent, food, and internet access, being a professional smile maker would be my dream job. I could think of nothing better in life than the constant and continuous pursuit of other people’s happiness.)

All that to say, perhaps my next career would be best suited doing something that combines both the creation and presentation of everyday beauty, as well as the ability to contribute to the happiness and growth of people around me.

The question, therefore, is simple: what exactly is that career trajectory I can follow that allows me to do both?

(Photo of balloons by Stephanie. Because balloons are fun.)