GIVE YOURSELF A LIFE SENTENCE TO GIVE MEANING TO YOUR LIFE

MY LONGTIME LONG-DISTANCE RUNNING MATE

BEST EVER WORKMATES

Pozzo, one of the characters in Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, states that “the tears of the world are a constant quantity.” Beckett’s play is most certainly one of despair. In my early English Literature days at the University of Regina, Waiting for Godot was presented in class as an investigation of philosophical voids, human tribulations, and human values. It does seem that somewhere there are always people in misery. And it does seem that there is always something to cry about. Was Pozzo right? Did he know that to live is to suffer is the skinny of Zen?

Ah Zen! I like reading Zen stuff. And when I do it always prompts me to think about and write about Evolutionary Psychology, Existentialism, and my favorite, Existential Dread.  Yes. Sometimes finding one’s purpose in a world seemingly filled with chaos seems fruitless. Yes. Searching for meaning seems next to impossible. And I am certainly not alone in this type of thought.

Burt Bacharach wrote a song about it:

"ALFIE"

What’s it all about, Alfie?

Is it just for the moment we live?

What’s it all about when you sort it out, Alfie?

Peggy Lee sang about it:

"IS THAT ALL THERE IS"

Is that all there is?

If that’s all there is, my friends, then let’s keep dancing

Let’s bring out the booze and have a ball

If that’s all there is.

 Yes and alas, readers. That is all there is.

Factoid: I know the end of all our stories, which is we are all going to die. And I know, too, the end of humanity, at least humanity here on Earth. The sun will eventually burn out and by the time it does all of humanity will be residing elsewhere, tenants on some faraway planet in another solar system.

But in the meanwhile, what is one to do?!

To me the answer is simple. To find any meaning in our lives, each of us needs to serve ourselves a life sentence, or maybe many life sentences served consecutively (some maybe concurrently). That is what one is to do! To accomplish this, we need guidance and wisdom from people in the past. Let me start with a couple of 19th-century Existential philosophers, Soren Kierkegaard and Friedrich Nietzsche.

Kierkegaard wrote that the meaning of life is not a fixed, objective truth to be discovered, but rather a personal and subjected reality to be created by oneself via free and passionate choices. Nietzsche wrote that life, by itself, has no inherent or universal significance, because the world is only characterized through chaos and suffering. Nietzsche insisted that must act as self-creators, finding our life meaning via authenticity and embracing life’s challenges.

Allow me to continue such thought by evoking a couple of 20^th-century French thinkers, Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus.

According to Sartre, life has no inherent, pre-defined meaning, but we can define ourselves through our freedom to make choices. Camus, too, insisted that life has no inherent, pre-defined meaning. He coined this concept, “the Absurd.” Both Sartre and Camus agreed that we are condemned to be free, free to create our own purpose in life, despite the universe being indifferent and absurd.

Russian novelist, Fyodor Dostoevsky, stated the obvious, that life is a mystery, and the best way to discover any meaning for is to embrace it through love, action, and spiritual commitment.

German phenomenologist, Martin Heidegger, believed that facing the certainty of death will break the absurdity of one’s everyday, routine life. Through accepting that life is a finite experience, Heidegger thought that we should stop wasting time and start living a deliberate design.

And hence, my notion that we assign to ourselves a life sentence or two or three or more to be served consecutively, and perhaps concurrently on occasion.

No matter your station, be you a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn or a king (from the song, “That’s Life”), or no matter your religion, be you a Catholic, a Hindu, and Atheist, a Jain, a Buddhist, a Baptist, or a Jew (from the song, “Universal Soldier”), if you are breathing you are midway into your personal story. And for those of us who decide to simply seek peace and pleasure as best we can, we are free to create personal moments by writing our own life sentences between the sufferings all of us at one time, or sometime, or all the time, endure.

Here are some of the life sentences I have written and served over my adulthood years:

“I am going to be a scuba diver.” At 22 years of age, I completed the National Association of Underwater Instructors (NAUI) course at Caribou College in Kamloops, British Columbia. Afterward, I was a participant in the very first Scuba Bronze course offered by the Royal Life Saving Society (RLSS). I still dive, my last being at Elkwater Lake, Alberta, two summers ago.

“I am going to be a swimming instructor.” During my undergraduate years at the University of Regina, I was listed as an English Literature major with a Physical Education minor. Factoid: The only Physical Education classes I took were Swimming 110 (introduction to swimming), Swimming 210 (bronze medallion qualifications), and Swimming 310 (instructor level qualifications). At 26 years of age, I began teaching swimming and springboard diving (I was also on the university diving team) and continued to do so at the Regina YMCA for a dozen or more years.

“I am going to be a writer.” I became a published author at 34 years old with my first book, A WISHBONE EPISTOLARY, published in 1985 (University of Toronto). My second book, QUEST FOR BLACK BEACH, was published in 2023 (Wood Dragon Books) when I was 72 years old! Also, this blog you are reading has been around for many years and has a readership in 152 countries to date!

“I am going to run a marathon.” I started running in 1977 after reading The Complete Book of Running by Jim Fixx. And after completing 13 half-marathons, at 38 years of age I officially ran and completed a full 26.2-mile marathon in 1989.

“I am going into private practice.” At 56 years of age, while teaching as a sessional instructor of Psychology at the University of Regina, I quit my high school job and opened my counselling practice. I began that practice as a Reality Therapist, then converted to being a Solution-Focused Therapist to accommodate an agency contract, then to being Cognitive Behavioral Therapist, to accommodate yet another agency contract. Currently, I am exclusively a Hypnotherapist.

“I am going to be a guitar busker.” The summer I turned 58 years old, I convinced my second oldest son to accompany me on a buskation to Victoria, British Columbia. And what a glorious summer of busking that was! Since then, I have been a planetary busker in such cities as Amsterdam in The Netherlands, Limerick and Dublin in Ireland, and Marrakech in Morocco.

“I am going to be a ski instructor.” My first time on alpine skis was at White Track Ski Resort, Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, in 1972, and I have been skiing ever since. At long last at 72 years old, I was certified as a Level 1 ski instructor with the CANADIAN SKI INSTRUCTORS’ ALLIANCE (CSIA). I taught skiing at Mission Ridge Ski Resort all last winter, and half the winter before that.

CHILLAXING ON THE HILL

“I am going to be a professional caricaturist.” Over my travels, wherever I have busked on the street with my guitar (The Netherlands, Ireland, Morocco, and Canada) I have also busked with my pencil and sketchpad. Last summer I was the designated caricaturist at a few country fairs, Manitou Beach, SK, Old Wives Lake, SK, Limerick, SK, being some examples. Also, I’ve drawn caricatures people Kelowna and Kamloops and Vancouver, British Columbia.

I LOVE BEING A PROFESSIONAL CARICATURIST

In summary of this, no matter if we are begging, busking, or banking, all our stories have the same ending. Whether we are redbrick or royalty, all our stories have the same ending. We are all going to die. And until that time comes, if you bethink the world is going to give you the life you want you are dead wrong. Know this. No matter the season of our life, even in autumn or winter of our life, age is no excuse to be chapfallen.

There is no reason for to act dead until we are dead. 

SENTENCE YOURSELF, 

SO TO NOT INCARCERATE YOURSELF, 

FOR LIFE! 

 

 

   

 

THE LIFE YOU WANT LIES IN WAIT BENEATH THE WORK YOU SHIRK!

 

The life I want lies in wait beneath the work I shirk. Hmmm. I want to be a full-time caricaturist and a part-time hypnotherapist. Being a caricaturist, I imagine, would offer moi many a fast-paced, freelance work opportunity filled with direct client interaction, with loads of fun and munificence on endless summer sunny days.

A caricature is typically defined as being a drawing of a person in which certain and striking characteristics are exaggerated to create a comic or grotesque effect. My caricatures then, are not typical. My caricatures are really stylized portraits, simplified sketches of the faces seated before me, attempting each time to draw exactly what I see within my self-imposed ten-minute time limit.

A CLINT CARICATURE -- NOT MINE:(

ANOTHER CLINT CARICATURE -- MINE:) 

To ensure the person remains recognizable, I always focus on facial structure. Despite this focus and not by design, my caricatures do adopt a rather animated look, but not quite as cartoony as most others' caricatures.

SAGE BROCKLEBANK

My signature style is derived from drawing as fast as I can. I draw my clients with a black fine point Sharpie, then highlighted with an Artist’s Loft grey marker. If ever I do add color, it is only to the person’s eyes and with a fine point Sharpie permanent marker.

Becoming a saleable caricaturist takes practice, practice, and more practice. Factoid: I have been drawing people’s faces since I was in grade school and so I’ve had lots of practice, but drawing caricatures with a black Sharpie, I have been doing so only for this past year.

As I oftentimes fancy myself as being a planetary busker, I have sketched people’s caricatures (with my pencil) on the streets of Amsterdam, Limerick, Dublin, and Marrakech. But as a planetary busker with my Sharpie, I have drawn only on the streets of some village and town summer fairs right here in Canada. Methinks on my next buskation out-of-country, I will pack my Sharpies!

To be living the life of a planetary caricaturist sounds fascinating and fun, and for the most part it would be. Factoid: Every city mentioned above where I’ve drawn faces of people on the street, on these same streets I have thrummed as a guitar busker. From busking with both a guitar and a pencil, here is what I know. Being a caricature busker offers considerably more social cachet than that of a guitar busker. Oftentimes, guitar buskers are simply beggars with a guitar, whereas caricature buskers are revered visual artists. Even so, I must confess, whether home or abroad, being a caricaturist ain’t always fun, and it ain’t always easy!

Drawing faces all day long is physically draining. I have on many an occasion in summertime, literally for hours, sat at my table drawing people from a long queue of consumers standing under a scorching summer sun waiting to pay a good dollar for me to draw their caricature. Seated at my mercenary drawing table for hours on end is physically a pain in the butt. To ease my physical pain, after finishing a caricature, I always stand up and stretch. And every time the line goes empty, I go for a walk and peruse the other vendor wares at the market.

And there is also mental fatigue. Having to focus on yet another face, after drawing more than a dozen or so caricatures, I feel this to be mentally exhausting. Admittedly, after a long while, all my customers start to look the same! In a general description, we all have hairlines, eyebrows, eyes, noses, chins, and necks. In a specific description, some of us suffer alopecia and are bald with no eyebrows. Some of us are cross-eyed and wearing bottle-thick spectacles. Some of us have pencil-thin necks and some of us are without necks. Yes. For me, during a long day of caricature drawing, the mental fatigue can be hallucinatory enough to have me imagine that we all share the same face!

Economically speaking in cliché, being a free-lancing caricaturist means to be the quintessential starving artist. Such a job change would reduce me to having an inconsistent income! Keeping with the status quo, I am currently a daytime counsellor under contract with a couple of provincial agencies, and a part-time hypnotherapist in private practice every weekday afternoon. Weekends only, I am a caricaturist.

Factoid: Waiting for the weekend gets me through the week! Another factoid: The reality of my current financial affairs doth easily kibosh my retirement dreams to be a full-time caricaturist. Yikes! (In a line, I would have to budget!)

And of course, being a caricaturist is not always flattering and therefore not always fun. Sometimes my clients are not happy with their “portraitures.” In such cases, customer interactions can be challenging! I remember, especially, many years ago drawing a Dutch girl at a farmers’ market. The girl was polite and sweet, but her mom was a know-it-all bag. After I drew the girl, her mom spent at least ten minutes berating me on how I did not capture her daughter’s spirit! And she was quite annoyed that I dare charge her anything for such an abomination! But I didn’t budge. Neither did I respond in gesture nor in voice. Myself exercising a passive stance, she eventually paid and marched away.

THE DUTCH GIRL

During Yuletide 2025 while vacationing in Vancouver, I enjoyed Christmas dinner with my friends, Jennifer and Bob. To repay them (somewhat) for their graciousness, I drew their caricatures (not live but from a photograph sent to me later). Now here is a case in point when my customers could legitimately complain! I was not that happy with my caricatures but mailed it to them, nonetheless. I do believe I captured Bob, but I am sure my Sharpie likeness embarrassed Jennifer! (She is sending me another photo asap to redeem myself!)

Admittedly, I am accursedly addicted to drawing people’s faces! Any visages I encounter, I scrutinize the eyes and nose, the lips and chin, in the off chance that I may someday be drawing them. And to continue this lifestyle dream, when I do get that chance, my preferred place for this Sharpie caricature business would be on a sunny plage in a warmer clime!

(YES! ‘TIS TIME TO DO THE WORK I SHIRK!)

 

 

MY NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION: I RESOLVE TO QUIT BEING A BRAGGART!

 

SELF-PORTRAIT

Yes. I need to quit being a braggart. I need to quit the me, me, me, and more me themes that are prevalent in this very blog you are reading.

My braggadocio really began in 1977 after I had just read The Complete Book of Running by Jim Fixx. Right after reading that book, I became a runner. Living in Kamloops, British Columbia at the time, running the main trail at McArthur Island Park became a daily habit, and running continued to be a daily habit for the next fifty years! Between then and now, I’ve run a marathon (registered with the Saskatchewan Marathon), several half-marathons (registered with the Echo Lake Road Race), and hundreds of recreational runs around Wascana Lake in Regina, Saskatchewan.

MY MARATHON MEDAL '89

My braggadocio continued as I began taking classes at the University of Regina. And that is when I formally became a swimmer. For four years, I swam my morning mile having my individual medley (IM) being the front crawl, back crawl, breaststroke, and butterfly. Though I was an English Literature major, Swimming was my minor, taking Swimming 110 (introduction to swimming), 210 (lifeguard level swimming), and 310 (instructor level swimming). Upon graduation, I taught swimming and springboard diving and snorkeling for well over a decade at the Regina YMCA.

I should mention, too, that I had also completed a scuba certification with the National Association of Underwater Instructors (NAUI) at Cariboo College in Kamloops, B.C., and a Scuba Bronze with the Royal Life Saving Society (RLSS) in Regina, Saskatchewan.

PUERTO VALLARTA DIVING

It has been some time since I’ve taught swimming. Even so, it does seem fitting that I now teach downhill skiing, having taken my instructor certification through the Canadian Ski Instructors’ Alliance (CSIA). My first time on skis was in 1972 at White Track Ski Resort just north of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. Since then, I have bump-skied at Tod Mountain (now called Sun Peaks) and Harper at Kamloops, Big White at Kelowna, Silver Star at Vernon, Sunshine and Norquay at Banff, and Whistler at Vancouver. And every weekend I am either skiing or instructing skiing at Mission Ridge Ski Resort in Fort Qu’Appelle, Saskatchewan. I must confess that being a swimming instructor was a very plummy job, and that being a ski instructor is even more plummy!

In my adolescence and early adulthood, I dabbled in karate, and then as a middle-ager I took Tai Chi. These past fifteen years I have been both a student and instructor of Muay Thai (kickboxing). Muay Thai is not regulated so my instructor credentials could be specious. Even so, I still brag about it.

All these above mentions are my fitness creds. I could go on to mention that at one time I was a certified aerobics instructor (via the YMCA) and a certified Nautilus Weightlifting Instructor (also via the YMCA). Aerobics I’ve not done since my certification, but I still lift weights at least four times a week. I am a serious martinet when it comes to fitness. Muscle is medicine, and I lift weights for one reason only, and that is to look good! YOU. CAN’T. FAKE. FITNESS.

BUSKING AT TIM HORTONS SOMEWHERE IN ALBERTA

Of course, my academic creds give me more reasons to brag. My bachelor’s degree is in English Literature, and my Masters’ degree is in Educational Psychology. Having my bachelor’s degree gave me the opportunity to teach high school English, and having my master’s degree gave me the opportunity to teach university Psychology. I was on faculty as a sessional instructor in the Psychology Department for well over twenty years.

Having my master’s degree also prompted me to open a private counselling practice, for which I became professionally proficient in Choice Therapy, Solution Focused Therapy, and Cognitive Behavior Therapy. Now, all these mentioned therapies are years behind me, for my present practice I focus only on HYPNOTHERAPY, for which I am a registered Master Clinical Hypnotherapist with the Canadian Hypnosis Association (CHS). I have been managing my hypnotherapy practice in downtown Regina for a dozen years and have no plans to ever cease.

Well now that I have bragged about my physical and academic creds, I still have space and time to brag about my creative creds.

More bragging. I am a published author, my first book being an academic writing of non-fiction, A WISHBONE EPISTOLARY published by the University of Toronto in 1985.

My second book, QUEST FOR BLACK BEACH, is an adolescent science-fiction adventure, published by Wood Dragon Books in 2023.

EVERYBODY IS READING IT!

EVERYBODY IS TALKING ABOUT IT-- MY TELEVISION INTERVIEW!

Did you know that this self-published blog you are reading, has a readership in 152 countries to date?!

And now my creative creds. I am a singer-songwriter, having slung my twelve-string guitar and blown my Dylan harp while busking throughout Western Canada, and elsewhere in such countries across the pond in The Netherlands, Ireland, and Morocco.

BUSKING IN MARRAKECH

Being a planetary guitar-slinger busker, I have also been a caricaturist in those same countries. Drawing caricatures, I need only some Sharpies and a sketchpad. Locally, I love drawing at summer country fairs right here in Canada.

DRAWING AT A LOCAL MARKET

Yes. For 2026 I need to quit bragging. I think I brag because I think my sociability stock rises every time someone other than myself knows how talented I am at doing something! Because I think that they think that -- I do not deter them from thinking so.

THE LIFE YOU DREAM IS RIGHT BEHIND THE WORK YOU SHIRK! 

This I know. Yes. I am very close to writing a bestseller or being a famous caricaturist or having enough popularity to eke out a living as a planetary busker. I just need to quit shirking!

Yes. For 2026, my bragging shall be finis. 2026 shall be my year of wrinkled humility and mercenary notoriety. But alas, being 74 years of age, I am not as roseate as I once was. In fact, I’ll be lucky to last another ten years without suffering some physical or mental infirmity.

(But I’ll certainly not be bragging about that!)

SELF-CARICATURE