When is a bronze medal a gold one in Olympics? When you overcome loss, angst and inconceivable odds and do your best. Such as Joannie Rochette did. Although her mother died unexpectedly while at Vancouver to cheer on her daughter, Joannie performed her routine. I can’t imagine the self discipline it must have taken. The training that carried her through. And although she only qualified for a bronze I think all Canadians, and likely much of the world, though she gave a gold-medal performance.

Here, in a picture by Chang W Lee in the New York Times she proudly displays the Maple Leaf and her bronze medal.

Watching her performance, reading what she had to say, knowing the odds she overcame have me thinking about writing. A writer trains hard. Overnight success as an author is estimated as 10 years of trying (and failing). I can verify that. I don’t often admit how many failures I’ve had but it’s lots. But in the process I learned a number of things. I learned about story structure, conflict and tension, character development, etc. I learned to adapt, change, and write every day even when it seemed futile. Valuable lessons that carry me through times of stress, boredom and discouragement.

So this week when I got requests for revisions on a proposal, line edits on a manuscript almost ready to go to print and notification from an editor that my contracted books will have a delay on them (so no rush for me to write them), I felt more like going on a holiday or watching TV then working.  That’s when the training kicked in. I just sat at the computer and did what needed to be done. In no way does this compare to what Joannie did…skating after her mother’s death…but it bears a similarity. Sometimes we can’t let emotions decide what we’re going to do. Yes, I did the line edits, I did the revisions and I’m ready for whatever is next. 

I suppose the same lesson applies to much of life. Things just have to be done, no matter how we feel about it at the moment.

“I write when I’m inspired, and I see to it that I’m inspired at nine o’clock every morning.” Peter De Vries

Let me begin with a story.

There was a young woman who greatly admired the painting of an up-and-coming young artist. Just looking at it gave her pleasure. The price was too high for her to afford it. But one day the gallery moved and had to let some pictures go. The painting had gone on sale and the price lowered to one she could afford but she didn’t buy it. Because in the move the frame had been damaged and now there was a tiny nick on one corner. She said, "All I’ll ever see is that flaw."

How sad that one imperfection could rob her of the chance to enjoy a beautiful painting.

Monet’s Jardin a Sainte-Adresse.

This story reminds me of how so many of us see life. We overlook the wonderful gifts we’ve been given because of some tiny thing that isn’t quite right. In a part of the world that enjoys such affluence we are likely the most ungrateful of people. Seeing the destruction in Haiti reminds us just how fortunate we are. But how many of us are grateful?

So this year I decided to practice an attitude of gratitude and every day write in my journal 5 GRATITUDES. I am grateful for water in abundance, a warm home, safety when I walk the streets in town, freedom to worship, to read, to talk; for family, for friends…I could go on and on. And perhaps I should. As Doris Day said,  Gratitude is riches. Complaint is poverty. Or think of the Pilgrims. They’ made seven times more graves than huts.  No Americans have been more impoverished than these who, nevertheless, set aside a day of thanksgiving.’  ~H.U. Westermayer

As the Bible reminds us in Psalm 107:1, ‘Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.’

the Angelus by Jean-Francois Millet illustrates gratitude.

This topic reminds me of a book I read this week:

Phil Calloway is a comedian but when his life started to fall apart, he wondered where to find the humor. In this book he talks about the choices we have about how we face life. We can choose to mope and complain or choose to find the joy and the laughter, trusting God to provide each in every day. A fun, lighthearted read on a difficult subject. I found it an encouraging book.

Did you watch the opening ceremonies of the Vancouver winter Olympics? I did.   

Why? Mostly to see who lit the cauldron. Would it be the Great One–Wayne Gretzky? Or perhaps some unknown? I liked one man’s suggestion. Have a hologram of Terry Fox. After all he’s one of our great Canadian heroes.

I thought the ceremonies were good. I especially enjoyed the laser lit bear and the awesome northern lights. I liked the fiddlers.

Then they brought in the Olympic flag. At least Betty Fox, Terry’s mother, was one of the flag bearers. As was Donald Sutherland who looked real fine dressed all in white, an Indie 500 driver, gold medalist Barbara Anne Scott, Singer Anne Murray, author and humanitarian Romeo Dalliare, ice hockey player Bobby Orr and space veteran, Julie Payette.

Several of these had been suggested for lighting the cauldron so they were now out of the running.

It was heart rending when the ceremonies stopped for one minute silence to honor the luger who died earlier in the day.

And then Rick Hanson, in a wheelchair, carried in the flame. He passed it off to speed skater Catriona Le May Doan. She passed it to NBA star, Steve Nash who passed to to gold-medal skier, Nancy Greene and finally to Wayne Gretzky. So he was one of the lighters. In the end, all except Hanson walked to the base and lit it and watched the flames rise to the top.  You’ll notice that one of the arms failed to come up out of the stage. Nevertheless, it went well.

All of this is writing related in case you wondered. The committee knew that maintaining the suspense to the end would keep people like me–not all that interested in sports–watching and wondering. They sustained tension which is something writers need to do in their stories. And they surprised us by having 5 people involved. Surprises are always good in a story.

What is really amazing about the Olympics is the whole world can come together for sports. They can forget for a few days in order to compete for a bit of hardware. Too bad they couldn’t do it for the good of the world, for the good of the children. Which reminds me of

WHAT I’VE BEEN READING:

THE HOTEL ON THE CORNER OF BITTER AND SWEET by Jamie Ford. (I had to pick it up when I saw the name of the author.) This is a story of two young people caught in a world torn apart by war. One, a Japanese American girl who after the bombing of Pearl Harbor was interned as an enemy of the only country she knew. It’s the story of a Chinese boy whose father hated the Japanese invaders of China. It’s a story of a mutual love of jazz. It’s a story of honor, duty, sacrifice, loss and gain. As the boy, who is the narrator says, he learns to find the sweet among the bitter. A book well worth reading. An easy read. I would give it 4 out of 5 rating.