New to ONE LOONEY IDEA - read below
In 2006, we began a relationship with Ethiopia that we cannot turn our backs on.
In Ethiopia, the majority of people build a life with less than a dollar a day.
A dollar a day does not buy basic necessities.
We all have challenges. At this point in my life I am living with abundance. It doesn’t feel good to continue to accrue treasures when so many live with scarcity. I want to choose something different.
Impulsivity is a choice of the privileged. But, the privileged have a responsibility.
PLEASE consider pledging your support to me, through financially supporting the work of Canadian Humanitarian in Ethiopia. My original goal was to get FIFTY people to pledge a dollar a day for the 365 days of this challenge. But, give what you feel you can toward my campaign—no amount is too small, every dollar makes a difference in the life of another—or continue to make a difference through your own chosen channels. The link to my personal pledge page is below.
Betam amisegnalo.
Belly Flop
When I was in junior high, twelve or thirteen years old, I spent most summer days at a swimming pool. I had done gymnastics for many years, so then taught myself to perform some of the tumbling moves, in mid-air off the diving board. The more I improved, the greater risks I took. I may or may not have been showing off one day—trying to impress the local boys—when I attempted a one-and-a-half off the low board.
Step, step, jump. I soared into the air with ease; I tucked my legs up, and began to rotate for the first revolution. The low board is only a metre off the surface of the water, and mass moves through space pretty fast. I opened my tuck at the moment that I thought I would smoothly enter the water, head first. I envisioned the no-splash entry I had witnessed in contestants of the recent Commonwealth Summer Games in Edmonton. But, I opened up too soon, and instead managed to smack down, face first in the middle of the pool. The audience that I imagined whooping loudly, instead groaned and turned their heads away in shared embarrassment.
I swam to the edge of the pool, where two lifeguards all but pulled me out. What? I thought. I’m sure I can get out myself. They rushed me over to the side of the pool. I tasted the salty blood running down my face, and into the corners of my mouth, just as I sat down and they shoved a towel over my bleeding nose. The imagined audience now pointed at me, calling out to those who had missed the slap of skin on the surface of the water. I wanted to die.
That was an obvious belly flop, everyone knew it had happened, I couldn’t hide it. In One Loonie Challenge, I have been executing belly flops, none of which you have seen, but that have been as unsightly as the one of my youth. This, the season of mother’s day, father’s day, a wedding, birthday presents, teachers gifts, end-of-school celebrations, Stampeders football season, and general good weather for outdoor dining & drinking, has resulted in excessive spending. No lifeguard has arrived to pull me out.
The question is not whether you are going to do a belly flop, it’s how you are going to respond after you do a belly flop. Here’s what my 13-year-old self did. I wanted to run and hide, and never return to that pool, or do another dive again. Perhaps I moved to the smaller pool, and swam underwater for awhile, I don’t remember. Then, I packed up my gear, and rode my bike home, thoroughly embarrassed. The next day, I went back to the pool, and got back on the board. I dove again, and again, and again. I practiced the dives I could do well, until confidence replaced uncertainty, and then I tried the one-and-a-half again. With the edge of failure already revealed, I had the courage to brush up against the possibility of it again. I managed to enter the water head first, not perfectly, but without drawing attention. I kept trying, until I got it right. More of the dives were successful than not. But, somehow, I remember the belly flop, I don’t remember the perfect dive into the water where nary a ripple could be seen. I don’t remember the awed expression of the imagined audience. I don’t remember how it felt to do it right.
My belly flops have been so frequent this month, that my skin stings from the smack of it. Again, I want to cover my head and run for the hills hiding in embarrassment, or shame. Instead, I will swim to the edge, and pull myself out. I will figure out a way to renew my commitment to the challenge, and to change.
Why not just give up?
Because I can see the girl I was in my own kids. They are constantly challenged to make choices, not all of them easy. Quitting often looks like the easier, and therefore better, choice. The loonie challenge is not particularly enjoyable. But, I believe that something is going to happen that I can’t yet see. I am still in the air, and the landing is undetermined.
