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I’ve always felt the idea of karma was a good one, even if the religious definition of the word doesn’t tie into my own beliefs.

After all, thinking through how our actions affect others — and then changing them up accordingly — is a gracious, mindful way to live. And I want to live as mindfully and graciously as possible.

(In addition to being noisy and jarring, that is.)

Then I catch myself practicing major conflict avoidance and slotting that in under the notion of karma, too, even though there’s little that’s altruistic about it… it’s really just being a risk-free chickenhead.

“Just watch yourself, girl… you don’t want to deal with that later.”

or…

“I wonder what people will think?”

or…

“I really don’t need to deal with the reactions.”

Yeah.

Not, “I can’t help but do this.”

Not, “Hey, that seems like the right thing to do, even if it might get awkward.”

Not, “This is clearly the choice that is most true to my goals and ethics and dreams.”

Nope.

Just, “Keep your head down, dumbass.”

And I hate the idea of avoiding my convictions because people might react the wrong way to whatever I might do.

Because then it’s not about right or wrong anymore… it’s just about not trusting people to maintain their faith in me. Anticipating a reaction without having confidence in my actions.

Sometimes — though this goes against every polite, Canadian, minister’s daughter bone in my body — the right thing will get the wrong reaction. No matter how well-meaning, no matter how close to your heart.

And sometimes, the reaction just has to hit you. You can’t duck it.

And sometimes the reaction shouldn’t matter. You can’t let it.

And sometimes you have to let yourself be how you’re going to be, even if it messes things up for a while. People who love you will either get on board… or love you anyway.

I will never go out of my way to hurt anyone, at least anyone who isn’t the Hooters Owl mascot or Joe Francis or Chris Pronger.

(That’s karma, too.)

But I can’t stop moving down a path because it starts out a bit rocky.

Yes, I promise, I’m still alive.

My lack of motivation to post has dug in about as deeply as my cough, though, which has led to the longest run of silence here since I started my blog.

Oops.

Pneumonia isn’t THAT big a deal. Really. The word freaks people out, but the reality is doable.

Although I still have it, and that’s more than a little irritating.

Anyway.

How are you? How have things been going? How are the kids? The wife/husband? Seen any good movies lately?

Right.

What have I been up to? Well. Other than hacking up a lung, I’ve been busy with work and the occasional hockey game (which I’ll be writing about later today) and doing a little bit of reorganizing/decorating/throwing massive amounts of stuff into the garbage around my house to slough a little dead weight off of my life.

I’d like to be working on the OTHER dead weight, too, but if I so much as move my arms too quickly, I’m coughing.

Charming.

But man, am I restless. Is it being sick? Is it that my birthday is coming up?

Is it that I’m CRAZY??

I’m not sure.

But enough about me. How are YOU?