Hello! 👋 

Welcome to Issue 12 of the weekly Chronic Evolution newsletter, where I share mindfulness tips, tricks, and anecdotes to help you evolve your mindset in 5 minutes or less.

Today’s issue is in honour of Father’s Day. Let’s get right into it.

9 Life Lessons My Father (Unknowingly) Taught Me About Living Boldly

It was the first skate of the winter season. The backyard rink was freshly frozen and flooded, the ice perfectly smooth. Our skates were sharp. With our hockey sticks in hand, we did a lap.

When we got to the far end of the rink, my dad turned to me.

“I bet I can shoot this puck all the way into the garden.”

“Bet you can’t.”

Fighting words. The game was afoot.

My dad chuckled, lined up his shot, and hit what looked to be a miraculous shot – straight past the garden, through the (closed) bathroom window, and into the house.

My mum (who was in the bathroom) screamed as the window shattered, my dad and I looked at each other like two kids caught out of class, and one lesson was forever cemented into my mind: Never bet against my dad.

But that’s not the only thing he’s taught me in life. Here are nine lessons he’s (unknowingly) imparted about living a bold, authentic life.

1. Don’t do something just because it’s expected of you. My dad’s ability to be his own person shows up everywhere. It was there when he chose entrepreneurship over a traditional career. And again, when he spontaneously bought a house without telling anybody beforehand. He lives with abandon, and by doing so, he inspires my sister and me to chase our versions of happiness.

2. Greet the unknown like an old friend. My dad used to travel for work and always made a point of living – and eating – like a local. He’d fully throw himself into the experience, even when it meant eating a raw octopus or navigating rice with chopsticks. I admire his ability to live in the moment.

3. It’s okay to change your mind as you get older. When I moved back home with my chihuahua in tow, my dad was not a fan. But that little guy – all 8 pounds of him – worked his magic, and now my dad is enamored. He even wrote an article on why he should get custody of my dog when I moved out.

4. Never stop creating. Even in his late sixties, my dad still comes home with a new business idea 15 times a week. He’s taught me never to stop creating and dreaming up new ideas – no matter how many times people shake their heads and whisper, “Not another one.”

5. Laugh freely. When my sister and I were young, my dad would put on a foreign accent every time we went through a fast-food drive-thru. He would try on different accents like they were hats, and he always left us giggling in the back seat while we nibbled on our Happy Meals.

6. Forge your own path in life. My dad left home at a young age, finding his own way through this adventure we call life. His bravery inspires a sense of freedom within me to walk my own path, as well.

7. Laugh at yourself, too. Picture this: The whole family just sat down to dinner. We’re having rice made with saffron. My dad pipes up. “Saffron – I know that stuff. It’s made from semen.” We all stared at him, eyes wide, corners of our mouths tugging up. For a beat, the silence was deafening, but it didn’t last. One of us lost the fight against laughter, and soon we all had tears streaming down our faces. It was a long time before anyone was composed enough to explain the word he was looking for was, in fact, stamen.

8. Prioritize yourself – even if it’s not the “cool” thing to do. Alcoholism runs in my dad’s family, and I think it’s a big reason he quit drinking early in life. He held fast and prioritized the man he wanted to be – even when he likely faced backlash and peer pressure from his friends over it. His actions taught me to stand strong in my beliefs about what I want for my life.

9. Persevere in the face of adversity. My dad’s a lifelong Toronto Maple Leafs fan. That should tell you all you need to know about his ability to keep going regardless of what obstacles you may face.

This issue is dedicated to you, Dad. Thank you for giving me the very best of you. I hope your lessons inspire many more than just me.

To your chronic evolution,

Carly 

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