"I've Seen a Million Faces and I've Rocked Them All!" - Bon Jovi

Live music is one of my favourite things in the world. Nothing makes me feel more alive, free, and joyful than a concert. Feeling that connection with the artists on stage, screaming, dancing, and cheering is something I don't get to experience often enough, but when I do, I always look forward to it.

Last weekend, my sweetie and I went to Montreal for three days to see Bon Jovi perform at the Bell Centre. Bon Jovi is one of my favourite bands, and I have been a fan since the 80s. Twenty-seven years later, Bon Jovi is still together, and have hit the road to promote their new CD, The Circle. From the moment the lights dimmed, the crowd was putty in Bon Jovi's hands.

They opened the concert with Happpy Now followed by We Weren't Born to Follow from The Circle. Then Jon Bon Jovi ordered everyone to get on their feet and make some noise as the band played mega-hit You Give Love a Bad Name. Bon Jovi rocked the house for three solid hours, and did two encores! "I'm too old for this!" Jon joked as Bon Jovi came out for the second encore.

The show was incredible from start to finish. They played several songs from The Circle, and the previous CD Lost Highway, in addition to all of their big hits. Montreal was given a special gift when Bon Jovi ended the second encore by playing Always for the first time on The Circle tour, followed by Treat Her Right.

Hearing the songs from The Circle live reinforced what a wonderful collection of music it is. Love's the Only Rule and When We Were Beautiful are two of my new favourite songs. However, at times, the show dragged slightly, and perhaps the old and new songs could have been ordered a bit differently. But this fan is not complaining. I enjoyed every moment. "I've seen a million faces, and I've rocked them all!" go the lyrics from Wanted Dead or Alive. Bon Jovi rocked everyone at the Bell Centre, and gave Montreal an experience it wouldn't soon forget. Merci Bon Jovi for a fantastic time!

Go get 'em!

Last night, the opening ceremonies for the 2010 Paralympic Games took place. Throughout my career, I have had the privilege of writing often about disabled sports, and have interviewed several Paralympic athletes. This has by far been the highlight of my career. I am so lucky to write about a topic that I am passionate about, and am continually amazed and inspired by the skill and determination of the athletes I speak with.

This past December, I had the honour of interviewing the Canadian Paralympic wheelchair curling team for the winter sport edition of the children's book Glowing Hearts: From Play 2 Podium, for which I am a contributing author (www.glowinghearts.ca). Each member of the team told stories of hope, determination, and courage.

One team member recalled a tumor he had on his spinal cord that had shifted, and had ultimately caused him to become paralyzed. "I was OK," he said of his reaction to the news that he would now be in a wheelchair. "I looked around and I saw that there were a lot of people who were worse off than me." Wow! What courage, strength, and grace this man showed. I felt small in comparision. I thought back to the obstacles I've faced in my own life, and how many minor challenges have felt like the end of the world. How many times had I neglected to look around and see how fortunate I am, that no matter what difficulties were upon me, I could push through the hard times and become a stronger, better person?

I had just been through a very difficult year, and speaking with this gentleman reminded me that no matter what life throws our way, we can overcome. When faced with life's curveballs, I believe that we have two choices - we can succumb to the hardship, or we can rise up, learn from the experience, and become better than before.

I am constantly inspired and awed by the wonderful athletes I have had the pleasure of speaking with over the years. I wish all the athletes a wonderful 2010 Paralympics, and wish I could be in Vancouver to cheer them on! To the Canadian wheelchair curling team, it was an honour to interview you, and I hope to make my way to Vancouver one day and meet you in person. Go get 'em!

"Rain"

Things have been a little crazy these days. Work has been all-consuming, with a big project, and putting in long hours. Throw in a stomach flu on top of that, and the result is yuck. Tired, busy, exhausted. Three words that equal me right now.

Last weekend, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when I looked at the calendar. When I'm tired like this, it's hard to get me out of the house. My tendency is to hibernate. Last weekend was no exception. I wanted nothing more than to spend the weekend in bed, but I had a busy weekend ahead of me. I spent time with some work friends, and had a fun evening of "girl-talk." The next evening, it was off to a jazz club for another wonderful night with my sweetie to celebrate a special anniversary. On Sunday, Canada won the Olympic gold in hockey (Go Canada!), and then it was off to see Rain, the Beatles tribute for a family birthday.

I must say that before arriving at the Princess of Wales Theatre in Toronto, my expectations of Rain were about medium. From the moment the lights went down, however, I was hooked. A montage of Beatles clips from the 1960s flashed across two big screens, culminating in the Beatles' famous appearance on the Ed Sullivan show. Sullivan introduces the Beatles, and the curtains open. The "Fab Four," on the stage, breaks into song. Punctuated by periodic video clips from the different stages in the Beatles' history, the Rain band puts on a riveting live show of Beatles hits from every era. From the early days, to Abbey Road and beyond, Rain delivered. The crowd danced, screamed, clapped, it was a true concert experience. The song choices were amazing, and the Rain band did a great job of engaging the crowd, even congratulating Canada on its gold medal win. I left feeling renewed, energized, invigorated. I wanted to go home, and pull out my Lennon-McCartney sheet music and play Beatles songs on my flute. Rain returns to Toronto in July, and I definitely want to go again.

On my way home from Rain, I realized that during these busy times, it's so important to schedule in fun time, and time to feed the soul. I am so happy that I reconnected with the world last weekend, and it gave me the fuel to face another busy week.

Dream killer or dream maker?

In my first year of journalism school, we had weekly assignments for our reporting class. I needed some advice on one particular assignment, so I took my 19-year-old self over to the teacher’s office. She greeted me with a smile, and answered my questions. Then, suddenly her eyes changed. Instead of smiling at me, they crinkled with concern.

She took a breath and began to speak. “Tina,” she began, “Do you like this course?”

“Oh yes!” I said enthusiastically.

“Because you seem very shy.”

On the surface, it may seem like an innocent observation. I was a shy, awkward teenager—she was right about that. However, I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. You see, in journalism, “shy” was the kiss of death. Since I was 10 years old, I had wanted to be a journalist, and here was my reporting teacher basically telling me that she thought I wouldn't make it in the tough-as-nails world of journalism. Devastated by her words, I politely thanked her for her help, and slinked away in shame. I wondered whether I had any business being in the journalism program, and silently labelled her a dream killer.

Little did my teacher know the impact those words had on my life. You seem very shy. You seem very shy. I couldn’t silence her voice. Her words dizzily swirled around in my head over and over again. I was suddenly in the throes of a major existential crisis. For a long time, her comment stayed with me. I questioned myself, and wondered if I had chosen the right career. I asked friends and family, “Do you think I have what it takes?” I spent a lot of time alone, reflecting on my future. It would be a long three years until I earned my degree. Frankly, I didn't know if I was up to the task.

Amidst many tears, I realized that I had two choices: I could either believe my teacher, or prove that I had what it took. I chose the latter. I decided to turn the “dream killer” into a “dream maker.” I put all my energies into my schoolwork, determined to keep my dream. I realized that while I would never love news reporting, I was a good features and human interest writer. I loved publishing. I could find my niche. I learned that people’s opinions are subjective, that while someone may not like your work, someone else will love it. The key was to believe in myself, keep working at my craft, and I would succeed. School is like those childhood activities that our parents put us into. We are exposed to different concepts, and through trying different activities, we discover what we like, and what our strengths are.

As creative people, we must insulate ourselves against negativity, and not allow other people’s opinions to define us. There will always be dream killers, and it is up to us to turn the tables on the less than supportive comments, and become dream makers. I think about the wonderful career that I have built, and I can't help but smile. I wonder where I would be if I had listened to my teacher's comments. Thankfully, I was able to dig deep and redefine myself.

Ride it out

It's been a rough month for my dear friend the flute and me. You see, every Monday I travel to Burlington to play in a flute ensemble and concert band. It is usually one of my weekly highlights. I get to feed my creative soul, have fun, and give the creative side of my brain a workout. Music engages me like no other activity. When I play music, I am completely focused, able to shut out the world, and all its stresses. Music brings joy, inspiration, and balance to my life. It burns stress and makes me happy.

So why the troubled relationship between me and my flute? Maybe I was feeling the lingering effects from a chaotic December. Maybe I was burnt out from returning from vacation to a lot of work, and still settling in from "the move." Maybe I would rather be lying on the beach with my sweetie, and reading Stephanie Plum novels than dragging my tired self to band.

Whatever the reason, I'd lost my inspiration. Each week this past month, I'd have to force myself out the door, and was blah and uninspired while there. The music was hard, and I wasn't playing very well, either.

What do you do when you lose your inspiration? Like any long-term relationship, creativity isn't always going to feel like the goosebumps on your arms, butterflies in your stomach, courtship phase at the beginning of a relationship. It's like a marriage that takes work, time, and effort.

Whether it is in my writing, music, or workout routine, when I lose inspiration, sometimes I just ride it out. I go through the motions, and show up in body, even if I'm not there in spirit. I know that if I just keep showing up at the page, practice, or gym, eventually, the inspiration will return. My flute and I have treaded through troubled waters in the past, and like any loss of inspiration, it is always temporary.

So, I rode it out for a month, and this past Monday, prayed that my inspiration would return. I showed up for practice, and ... had a blast! My playing was good, and I had fun with my bandmates. I felt inspired again, my flute and I reconciled after a month of tension and negative feelings. My mojo, my groove was back! And it felt great.

So, if you temporarily lose inspiration, just ride it out. Keep showing up, and eventually, it will return. And you will have the goosebumps, and the butterflies in your stomach all over again.

Tina

Announcing my new website!

I am happy to announce the launch of my newly-designed and updated website! Visit www.tinadealwis.com for more information about my writing and editorial services, my background and experience, and to read my portfolio.

Tina

You're always on vacation ... as long as you have a good book

I don't think I've ever looked so forward to a new year. December is a stressful month at the best of times, with all the Christmas preparations and holiday festivities, but throw in a cross-city move from Hamilton to Toronto on top of that, and I was quickly reminded that a move in December plus Christmas equals chaos. So after a long, busy, stressful December, spent sorting through mountains of boxes, Christmas shopping, Christmas concerts, family gatherings, and putting up my Christmas tree at 9:30pm on Christmas Eve (I honestly wouldn't have bothered, but had bought some new, special ornaments that I wanted to hang), I was counting down the days until my vacation.

On December 28, I went to Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic with my boyfriend for New Year's. We spent a week in all-inclusive heaven, lying on the beach or by the pool, swimming, relaxing, and recovering from the move. In the days and weeks leading up to the vacation, I looked forward to spending time with my sweetie and relaxing. I also couldn't wait, however, to catch up on my reading.

I am a notorious book shopper, addicted to the look, feel, and smell of a new book. The experience of going to a book store, perusing the shelves lined with thousands of possibilities, and buying a new book, the anticipation of bringing the new book home, sends shivers down my spine and can give me a high that will last for hours.

For our vacation, I scoured my bookshelves at home. I deserved this vacation, and was determined to find the perfect books to bring with me.

Nothing on my bookshelves seemed appropriate, however. I had already read the fun, easy reading books, and the remaining books didn't quite fit with the vacation vibe I was seeking. Then, one day, the answer appeared on Facebook. "What was your favourite book of 2009?" my cousin's wife, Debbie, posted. Her friends replied with their suggestions, and then one friend asked the million dollar question: "Can you recommend any beach reading?" Bingo! Debbie recommended the Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich. I couldn't wait to go to Chapters and introduce myself to Stephanie Plum.

I bought the first two novels, "One for the Money," and "Two for the Dough" to bring on vacation with me, and couldn't wait to get started. From the first page, I was hooked. Evanovich's hugely popular series, about a lingerie buyer turned bounty hunter, has a huge, loyal following. And it's easy to see why. The books are laugh-out-loud funny, with compelling, entertaining characters, and good mysteries. They are quick, easy reads, and I was able to read both novels within the week that I was away.

Looking at the copyright page for "One for the Money," first published in 1994, I thought 'Where have I been all these years?' In my defence, I never really followed the mystery genre ... until now.

I had a wonderful vacation, and the best New Year's Eve of my life. Coming home to the cold, Canadian winter, wasn't easy. But back at home, I just finished "Three to Get Deadly," and am about to start on "Four to Score," comforted by the thought that as long as I'm reading the Stephanie Plum series, I'm always on vacation in spirit.