Sailboats, waiting for spring breezes.

Empty, still sailboats on a cold January day serve to remind me of all the talents we have that go unused. They sit, patiently waiting for someone with the interest to make use of them.  If left too long, they decay. Even on an unfriendly day like today we could be nurturing them; mending the sail, polishing, painting, repairing; readying them for the opportune moment. Instead, they sit alone, ignored, forgotten. Unused, they decay, and when the perfect sailing day arrives, we are not ready to take advantage of it. There is too much preparation yet to do, so they wait and wait, until they are no longer useable.

I have a few abilities that have been sitting in the back corner of my life unused for quite some time - and I think it is time that I used them before they disappear. Nothing terribly spectacular, just little things that I am reasonable at and enjoy doing. But immediate life activities have always held a higher level of importance on the ladder - working at a job, tending to family, cooking, cleaning, yard work. If I had set them aside for short periods, or worked them in with what I enjoy doing, perhaps it would have been more enjoyable and less pressurized. Not that I haven't had fun or that I have regrets - my life has been good and I have no complaints. But adding in the extras may have given it just that bit of extra spice when I look back.

Yucca sketches.

Early, early morning.

I am sitting at 5 a.m. watching the early morning rise to begin the day. The sky turns from dark to hazy light at the eastern edges and gradually, almost imperceptibly, begins to lighten all over so that it just creeps upon you. There is no defining edge to it, but slowly the sky becomes a pale grey, touched with pink here and there on the wisps of clouds, then lighter and lighter. The hazy grey turns first light blue, then becomes deeper and clearer as the morning progresses. The sun begins to show its brilliance. Ray by ray it reveals itself. As it shines upon the covering of snow that remains, there is a slight steam that rises, a thin veil of fogginess to fade the distance. Not so foggy that you cannot see through it - but not the crisp, clear air that is above it. There is no river in the immediate vicinity, so the fog is not dense - but there is enough moisture in the cold ground to produce the veil that drifts in front of my vision, blurring the crisp edges of buildings and surrounding fences. But it does not last for long. The sun is soon far enough above the horizon to deliver its full strength of heat, and the mist is quickly evaporated.

The birds are waking and talking to each other. I hear two squawking back and forth. I can't see them, so I can't tell if they are blue jays or magpies. I know, I know, they sound different, and I should be able to tell - but it is early morning and there are quite a few things my brain is not sure about this early. But it sounds like a mother and child conversation - 'Come here' ... 'No'....'Come here' .... 'No'.... 'Come here right now'..... 'No'.... 'Yes, right now'.... 'Okay'..... Then all of the little song birds gather and begin their chattering all at once. It is a busy time of day for the birds. It is a quiet time of the day for me.

I often get so involved with day to day trivialities that I sometimes forget about the continuous cycle that slowly moves us day by day through the year. It is constant, and it is something that moves in the background of our lives without much notice. The weather changes - the temperature becomes colder or warmer, the days become longer or shorter. It is a part of our life and we forget the significance - we forget that it is the way our own lives work. Sometimes we have sudden personal storms that cause unexpected upheaval. Sometimes we have halcyon days where nothing could go wrong. But it is all a part of the continuous cycle of our lives. It helps to remember that nothing is forever - nature is change - change is natural. In the depths of the coldest winter of the soul, remembering the cycles of life can help you get through the days until something changes - until it is time to move on to the next phase. It also helps to remember the cycles when we are on the top of the world with our activities - not to take the fun out of it all - not to be pessimistic - but merely to understand that things will change at some point, so when they do, it does not have a traumatic effect on us.

If things begin to lose their lustre and not move along quite so synchronistically, we can step back and ponder. Perhaps it is time for change. When we remember that life moves in cycles, it is not as difficult to let one cycle go and prepare to move on to the next. We do not need to cling to where we are and what we have with desperation. We can let go and slowly make room for something new to move in. As with the breaking morning, there often isn't a definite delineation that we can see - changes creep in to our lives as silently as the clear blue sky of morning. We sense them more than see them in the moment that they are occurring, but they occur regardless.

Somebody's Been Fishin'

Memories are friends. They help you decide which way to go and what is important in life.

Sometimes, sitting looking at our past, we remember special moments. As we wander through these precious recollections, we come to the realization that they have shaped many of our attitudes, influenced many decisions since that point in time. I have always had good times around water. Water of any kind - stream, river, lake or ocean. The memories vary, but they are always good ones. Well ..... except for the one where I almost drowned in swimming class because I was much taller than any of the others and I stepped over the drop off on the first day. The instructor had said to go in as far as we had to until the water was up to our neck. Never having swum in that particular part of the lake before, I did just exactly as I was told - or tried to. The drop off caught me before I reached that point! Needless to say I took no more lessons from THAT instructor!  But excluding that little episode of sheer terror(!) every other episode has brought good memories. To this day, I still love to be around water.

There are of course, other memories that are not so good. One in particular being an episode on the ski hill where I ended up with broken skis, a twisted ankle and an extremely damaged ego! As a result I have never bothered trying to schuss down a hill full of moguls - I haven't even strapped on any skis. I guess the humiliation of having to negotiate the rope tow back up to the chalet on one ski - and return the broken skis (which I had borrowed from a friend) was more than my ego could handle!  I learned my lesson - and it has tainted my decisions since that day. These are just simple things - not huge, when looked at over a lifetime - but such small things have influenced my decisions in rather large ways. There are, of course, other episodes that influence me -- but I am NOT talking about them!

Our memory is not merely a data bank for storage of facts - it is an active participant in the shaping of our future. We CAN change our past from the way that we view it, sometimes allowing us to proceed with a whole new outlook on life. I think at this stage in life I am probably far enough away from the episode with the skis to strap some on if the situation seemed like it would enjoyable. Cross country maybe - no moguls without lessons first thank you! I can look back and laugh, but I am still a little gun-shy, and would have to have a good instructor and lots of practice before I tried that again!

So, time can give us perspective, and maybe a softer feel about the incident. But there are times when perhaps we have not remembered everything in the right context. I like to blame the swimming incident on the instructor, and the skiing incident on the guy that goaded me into going down the hill in the first place -- but really -- if I am honest -- they were all my own decisions. Perhaps if I took more care next time. If I paid a little more attention to the terrain - the surroundings - and less to my ego, things may have turned out very differently. I may have continued skiing instead of just sitting in the chalet listening to the yodeling.

Semiahmoo Beach

Many good memories here, collecting gooey-ducks, shells, and running barefoot in the tidal silt.

Looking west I see the high mountains that I have come through. The road winds through valleys and along mountain sides - often following the downhill course of rivers, towards the flat prairies that are yet to come ahead of me to the east.

It was a gorgeously sunny day - crisp and clear - mid February. Not freezing winter temperatures - not yet balmy spring - but in between. The crispness was there, frost had come overnight making the scene look much like a winter wonderland display from a Christmas store - only much better. This one was real. The pristine, snow covered fields, marked only with tracks from grazing deer, and lacy frost coating the bare branches of the shrubs sparkled in the early morning sunshine as it slowly crept over the mountain peaks. The road starts out winding through small valleys, beside rivers and lakes, past small villages and towns. People are mostly indoors because it is winter, but one can see the evidence of work been done. Farm yard snows piled high at the edges, so the animals have room to roam. Fresh bales of hay strewn across the inner fields, so there is food for grazing - a hole broken into the ice of the pond edge, so there is water to drink. Smoke rising from the chimneys lets us know there is activity indoors - but outside is quiet.

The farther I drive, the more the country opens up. Larger farms, bigger equipment, more cows and horses in view. Then we get back into valleys, this time narrow, with steep snow covered mountains. The day is still clear and crisp. By the time the sun is casting pink tones on the wisps of cloud I am cosy and warm, sitting in the restaurant of the hotel where I will spend the night. Half way on my journey I am surrounded by majestic, mountainous vistas in every direction.

In the morning there is a layer of ice to be scraped off all my windows, and I move my car into a spot in the sunshine to warm it up while I have my breakfast and do the check-out routine. Then I am on my way again, even more excited about arriving at my destination. There are several more hours drive through high craggy mountains as we rise up to alpine areas. The timber is less dense, the mountain streams are covered in ice and snow, there are signs pointing to ski areas and reminding drivers to watch for elk, sheep and bears. Bears of course, will be hibernating somewhere sheltered at this time of year, but in the warmer weather they will be visible, wandering the bush and when necessary crossing the highway. I do pass a small group of sheep browsing next to the highway - and a rather long line of cars as people pull over to take photos. Most have probably never been  that close to wild sheep before - never really looked at one, close up, so they record the moment on camera to share with friends when they get home.

As the time goes on, the landscape flattens to low rolling terrain made up of grassland and scrubby trees. Groves of aspen dot the landscape between small farming towns and stacks from the gas wells. Finally, the traffic becomes heavier as it is quitting time and everyone is on  the commute. The majority of the traffic consists of freight trucks carrying heavy equipment and pipes for the pipelines being constructed. I am reaching my destination. Overpasses, underpasses, highway exits here and there. Traffic signals at intersections, cars from every direction, and I no longer have a chance to look at scenery even if it wasn't obscured by tall office buildings and mini malls. I have had two good travel days all to myself - and now I get to spend time with family.

Looking east. The rocky, windswept tops of the mountains that I have yet to make my way through showing in the distance. An ice-covered lake to the right provides a refreshing stop for travelers in the heat of the summer, but carries that icy coldness in the water all year.

Sheet music and songbird - rhythm, repetition, routine.

Some days, when I am working on new things I feel rather odd - out of kilter from the world around me. I feel I am in limbo - ungrounded. I am no longer who I was, but not yet who I will be. Not yet where I am headed, but neither am I where I was before. Sometimes I would just like to crawl back into my bed in the Yukon. Out in the wilderness watching the squirrel, exploring and panning for gold. Just even anywhere warm and comfortable where I can cocoon in someone else's life and not have to worry about my own. But that is no good - it is not what I want and not who I am. But at those moments it just looks easier than being where I am.... through these rose coloured glasses I sometimes like to hide behind.

I know that there are things I need to do for myself to be healthier, wealthier and more productive. Routines I need to work in to my day to keep me on track to where I want to go. I do them in fits and starts at the moment. Some days I am good at it - other days it all falls apart. The routine just totally disintegrates. I try to gather myself together and do ordinary lacklustre things like clean the floor, do dishes and laundry, go for walks. I even do some more enjoyable things like search out some new photos; venture in to places I haven't been before; do some sketching or go listen to live music at the cafe. Anything to connect me to my source and get a small foothold to ground me again. Sometimes it works quickly. All I need is to put on a cd and I am back into the rhythm again. It could be of haunting Gregorian chants, light-hearted Italian cafe music, or rockin' and rollin' with the Stones. I have a varied collection that stirs my soul in one way or another.

Other days it can be like pulling hen's teeth trying to figure out what little thought is niggling at my brain throwing me off kilter. Right now I think it is the fact that I am trying to turn my "critics" into caricatures. There is the 'skeptic' that I am working on. You know - the guy who glances sideways at you with a slight sneer and says "Yeah, right!" when you tell him what you are going to do. He has absolutely no faith in the fact that you can handle the task. He believes you do not have the talent or knowledge to pull it off, and will never find anyone willing to help you, and never mind finding someone to care when it is done. He has thrown me off. Focusing on what he looks like - how he appears to me - has brought him very close to home. But I guess that is where he needs to be so I can look him in the eye and tell him to go away and leave me to it. I won't even invite him back to see the finished product. He is just in his beginning stages. There is much work to be done to get him to appear like the smooth talker he is - but I will get there if he will just leave me to it.

We all have these little 'critics' in our mind, the voice of caution, the warnings, the monkey-mind chatter that goes on endlessly without our even realizing it. But if we can bring them out and name them, then they hold less power over our decisions. We need them there to keep us from being total idiots (as most of us can be in one way or another) - but we don't need them to be in control. They need to work with us not against us. We need them to be the reminder of our goals, to keep us on track - we do not need them to be in control of our decisions. So by bringing them front and center, and making cartoon character forms of them, the emotional part of you is able to put it all in to the proper perspective.

The Buddha reminds me of my source, the African woman with her 5 children reminds me of others who struggle just for plain survival, and the candle is a sign of the universal energy that connects us all.

A spider's web glistening in the dewy morning.

Sitting by the dock on the lake - freezing my fingers to the bone - holding my pages from the wind. Why? What is it within that brings me here, determined to follow my set out plan to sketch something? With determination I try to practice my drawing on a regular basis - each time feeling I lack so much in the finished product. My mind sees such beauty, my hand delivers only scratches on the page. But I persist, happy in the fact that I have tried.

Like the bird that built four hopeless, raggedy nests in my patio roof before leaving to finally try in the tree, and see if he could do it correctly this time, I keep scratching away at the pages, hoping that one day it will be a result that will stand the test of time. "Practice makes perfect" my Grandmother used to continually tell me, as she tried her best to teach me how to do the embroidery stitches with as much beauty and accuracy as she did. And I would try again, because the final result that I aspired to was beauty to behold, and I wanted to be able to create something that beautiful. The same phrase was used to get me to practice piano; accordion; sewing; skating and anything else I became involved in. It is such an overworked phrase, that we tend to slough it off and not think about it. It has turned in to a phrase for nagging reminders of things that sometimes you don't want to do. But if I push all of the baggage away that is attached to it, the phrase is actually correct. Or, at least, if it doesn't make things perfect, it does make the result better in small increments.

I feel the same with my drawing. I see works by others who are much more adept at it than I, and I desire to be as accomplished as they are. So I keep practising. It is appreciation that spurs me onward - appreciation of the fact that it CAN be done. Perhaps never by me, but it CAN be done, and I HAVE to try. Without trying, I will merely be envious, and envy doesn't get me anywhere. If I try and fail, I will at least be content that I have given it a good shot.

It has taken me some time to get around the fear of failure with a lot of things though. Things that are important to me. If they are not of any big consequence, I don't really care if I fail ... I'll try most anything once unless it just plain scares me! With things that are important though, it is harder to admit that I have failed at the attempt and will have to try again.  But without failure, we get no progress. We need the failure to help lead us in the right direction. Failure helps us find the pathway by showing us all the wrong directions. One by one we can cross the alternatives off the list. Failure is sort of learning gone awry - what we thought we learned, didn't really sink in. Not all the way from our head to our hands to our soul. We can learn things and 'know' them - but to transfer them to our hands or our bodies or our soul, takes time. It takes a depth of knowledge to move that music in our head out through our fingers on the guitar or piano - to move the vision of how to ski down the hill out from our head to our body - to move the pictures in our head out through our fingers to the page in front of us.

The spider has to spin his web well enough to catch his food for survival. I think he comes with an innate knowledge of how to do that...but then I thought birds came with the knowledge of how to build a nest too...so perhaps I am wrong. I know so little about it. So I will keep trying. If I don't get it perfect - at least I will get it better than it was the last time.

A quick sketch on a sunny winter day.

A clear, breezy day mid February, and everyone comes out of doors. Something that we don't even acknowledge, pulls us out the door and into the fresh air. Something more than the promise of exercise. Something about the feel of the air. Something inexplicable that stirs us inside, and says put on your jacket - go out. It doesn't matter where, just gather your friends, your family, your dog - it really doesn't matter - just GO ..... OUT. Be a part of the rebirth that is to come. We don"t question, we don't understand, we don't even consider. We just go , and feel better for doing it.

The air is balmy and fresh. It has a just-scrubbed, after-a-bath smell to it. The nostril-biting cold feel has gone. The aroma of damp earth wafts up as we bounce through the spongy grass of the park. The birds are enjoying it too as they glide and cavort on the breezes, getting their flight muscles back in shape - singing their hearts out, calling to all their friends. They know what the surprise is that is coming.

It is the promise of spring. The energy of new growth working its way into the atmosphere.  We can feel that there are new and exciting things coming in the near future. It is like a wake-up call. We have been hibernating, and spring is coming, so nature is saying "Okay, I am giving you a warning. Get up - get moving - get ready." Exercise the body, exercise the mind, replenish the soul, because you are going to need everything you have at the ready very soon. It is exciting. It stirs the soul within. We know there is a surprise gift waiting, and we are anxious to begin the opening. Leaf by leaf it will be presented to us - bud by bud - blossom by blossom. Day by day the unveiling will last until the snows come again. And yes, it is early, and there will be storms yet, but the hint is there of what is to come. Mother Nature is reminding and preparing us, and all the other things on this little space around us. She nudges and cajoles. Like a loving mother waking her child to a new day she reminds us of the exciting things that we can be a part of, and draws all living things into action with her soft caress.

I could have written about Valentines Day, but I am not big on it myself. I figure that we should show how we feel about others at any time of the year - not just go over the top one day a year and then forget about it. And I am not a terribly commercialized person to start with - the spending of large amounts of money doesn't make up for what is missing in everyday life. So today I am not talking about what others do for you, but what you do for yourself.

Do you yearn to sit and play an instrument? Does it bring you enjoyment? Do it. It will bring enjoyment to others as well. Share your joys.

I need nurturing. I don't mean that I need someone to mother me (although that could be wonderful once in a while!) I am referring to doing, looking into and finding out about things I enjoy. The nurturing is my job, I do not expect anyone else to be responsible for it. If they do take the time to involve me in something that fits the bill, that is wonderful, but  that is not what I am talking about. What I am talking about is putting enough importance on the process to take the time to do it for myself. If I don't spend the time doing things I love and letting others know about it - how could I expect them to know what I like? If I do not spend the time nurturing myself, how can I expect others to place any importance on it?

It could be something as simple as hanging out by the river or lake for a while, watching someone else make something they are good at making, reading about a new object of interest. It doesn't have to take up a ton of time, but it does have to be something that is done on a regular basis. It could be called "filling the well" - but I prefer to think of it as nurturing - the term seems to convey more of what is necessary and reminds me that how I feel is important enough to pay attention to. Filling the well conveys the idea that I am putting stuff in to take back out again - it conjures up the image that if I put the water in, it is there to take out later when I need it - it is a part of tending to things that make life go smoothly.  And being that water is such an important life force, that conveys a big part of what I am talking about, but not all of it. Nurturing implies a little more pampering of the soul. It implies encouragement to expand and grow. It implies that we monitor the state of being with an ever-watchful eye just as we would do if we had an ill child; sickly house plant; ailing animal or an abandoned bird.  It means that we empathize with this object/person, paying attention to its needs, and being certain we fulfill them as best we can so that it grows strong and healthy. The importance of paying attention to it holds a high priority in our minds.

To me, that is important. That self-nurturing hold a high priority. It does not mean we are being selfish. We can share the things we love with others. There is no reason that doing things we enjoy has to be a solitary expedition. We can take our friends, partners, or children along with us. Yes, we do need time alone, but to share the things you enjoy with others can amplify the enjoyment. Not only are you happy, but you are watching someone else be happy as well - and happiness can be very contagious. What could be better than knowing that what we enjoy also brings enjoyment to others. It creates a connection - a camaraderie - between people.

Perhaps, in showing others who we really are, we end up with what we really want - for Valentines and for other days of the year - a little bit more understanding of our desires and needs.

Even if I never catch a fish, there is something about the standing, waiting, listening, watching, that soothes the soul. It can be just as enjoyable sitting on the shore watching someone else do the work!

"Searching" - mixed media acrylic, ink, graphite rubbings, photos, written word.
"Who am I, what am I, where am I going on these pathways through time. The spaces that surround me are not always kind to my face. The willows weep and leave a babbling brook that yearns to wash me out to sea, to float without a boat eternally.

What untold secrets, locked within, hold the keys to me.
Somewhere in the depths lie the answers.
Somewhere in the flotsam and jetsam of my life - within the garbage that washes up on the shore - within the maze of pathways I follow, there is a reason. For being where I am. For being who I am. For going where I go. but I can't quite lay my finger on it. It stays just far enough out of reach to keep me  searching."

 What do we really want? This is the question raised in a blog I was reading recently at Oza Meilleur.com . It got me thinking, and I suppose it is a question that most of us do not have an exact answer to. On my own personal list, I want to be happier,  healthier, wealthier, less stressed. I want to help others and do 'good' things. I want to have an easier life without so many struggles. I want to give everyone clean drinking water, plentiful food and shelter. I want to  stop all the wars - the death and the pain it causes. As important as they are, those are all exterior things. What do I want once I actually get happier, healthier, wealthier and less stressed? Is it all over? What do I want once we have stopped the wars? Like the words of the song say, "Is that all there is?"

Well, I see the answer as a definite no, and I think most people would agree with that. They don't think of it being the end of the journey, just the solution to the problems of the moment. But how do we decide what it really is that we do want. What are we missing that makes us feel that there is always something just not quite right about the life that we have. There seems to be an innate sense of lacking some intangible thing that we cannot quite put our finger on. As I say in my painting, that is what keeps me searching - trying new things, going new places, meeting new people. In the process I have found much contentment and peace by meeting new challenges and finding out where they may take me - exploring the flotsam and jetsam that washes up on the shore of my life. Most of my exploring goes in the direction of nature and what is in my surrounding environment. I don't jump off any high cliffs to see what it feels like to fly. My explorations are more in a psychological sense than on the physical realm, but for me they are just as interesting and exciting.

Having come from an environment that put an emphasis on making logical choices that have been weighed out, looking at alternatives and matching them against moral beliefs was an important step in making the decisions in life on which way to go in any given circumstance. Logic held the day. So it is not always easy for me to step up and check things over out of mere curiosity. Curiosity seemed like such a frivolous reason to do something, after all "curiosity killed the cat"..... right? (Thankfully that is not quite such a popular saying in this generation!) It is also not easy for me to just "do" things because I have a feeling that it is the "right" thing to do if there is not immediate feedback of agreement from others around me. But as an artist I have been taught that it is the process that is important when you are working in the creative field. To get fresh insight one must explore. Now, I know that some artists have the end result fixed firmly in their mind before they begin - and work very methodically towards that point of the process. But without the experimentation of how to move the brush, what colours to choose and mix, what light to cast on the work, they would not achieve the great masterpieces that they do. Even though the work is controlled, there has been experimentation to find the 'best practices'. We don't really have to go crazy trying everything on a whim, just try out some possible alternatives for reaching the destination we are aimed towards. See which one works best for achieving the results we want.

But what do we want when we get there? Do we really need to know? Would knowing make life easier as we traverse the path? I guess it would to a degree. It would probably speed up the process if we could filter out some of the time we spend considering and trying out leads that don't get us anywhere. But I also feel that in those searches include positive things that we also need to experience and know. And missing them may also take away some of the things that we look back on and laugh about. Some of the ridiculous things we try to do that seem like a good idea at the time ... and what fun would life be without those catastrophes to laugh about as we look back?

In my way of thinking, life is a treasure hunt and I like to enjoy the process of the searching regardless of whether it produces the object or the end result I was looking for. But I am certain that is not the path for everyone. We all have different needs to keep our interest in life. We have different reasons for getting out of bed every morning. I guess the objective is to find out what each individual's reason for getting up is, and focus on increasing the amount of that incentive each day, so that there is always something exciting to look forward to when we open our eyes every morning.

You just never know what precious surprises the treasure chest might contain.

Protecting your territory.

There is a certain amount of 'personal space' that we all acknowledge we feel comfortable with. Friends can usually get closer than strangers, and even in cultures where it is customary to hug or kiss the cheek of total strangers upon meeting, we still have our rules of what you do and what you don't get close about. When someone oversteps these bounds, we retreat from them, either physically or mentally, or perhaps both. But when it comes to those who have been let into the sphere, sometimes it is hard to draw lines of delineation as to what territory they are allowed to share, or not, and how much of it they are entitled to without return favours. We all keep a balance book ... you know we do -  some just check it more frequently than others. Some are more than willing to immediately say 'What's in it for me?' while others may go on for years before they realize they are not getting much in return for all their giving.

We base our judgements and actions on what we already know. If what we know is people who respect us and would not consider using what we have for themselves, with no benefit to us personally, then it is easy to make decisions based on erroneous 'facts' or knowledge. Conversely, if what we already know is others who take advantage of us for their own benefits, then we tend to hold everyone outside of that space - just for protection.

It strikes me that if we are in control of our own time, energy and money, we can come through difficult encounters with scars that do not go too deeply. Ones that can be healed more easily. And I suppose, that control comes with our own self-respect first. We need to understand that we, ourselves, are worthy of protection. That the well has to be continuously re-filled, or it runs dry.

If we look to animals, it seems that they watch first out of curiosity - then having made a few decisions, may come for a closer inspection or run away. I assume that they too have their 'prior knowledge' that they base their actions upon. Most dogs, for example, come running up to me to be friends, but occasionally I will come across one who doesn't like me. Perhaps because of the colour of my clothing, my size, my movements, the way I smell - some memories of a prior encounter are triggered and I am rejected as unfriendly until I have proven myself.

I think that if we give importance to maintaining our own personal energy sources, we can be open to others without being taken advantage of. We are able to draw those delineating lines more easily, and thus find greater enjoyment in the sharing of our resources in a way that brings benefits to everyone involved. Sharing and helping others is one of the greatest sources of filling the well with contentment and self-value, and because of that it is imperative that we draw those lines and be very discerning as to when they are over-stepped, and by whom.