Who was your most influential teacher? Why?

By Tracy Schruder

My most influential teacher was my grade five teacher, Mrs. Doreen Bates. She was an exceptional educator with impeccable coping skills. At ten years old, I was full of energy and confidence, but also bold and lazy. None of my previous teachers had much success in motivating me to reach my potential. I struggled to read and often failed to complete projects on time. I’m not sure how I managed to pass each grade, but I was pushed along and found myself in Mrs. Bates’ grade five class, facing the toughest teacher in the school.

However, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that she wasn’t tough in a mean-spirited way; instead, she was lovingly tough. For the first time in my life, I felt inspired to apply myself and learn. Mrs. Bates was patient with me, teaching me how to read and comprehend what I was reading. I developed a love for books. She also taught me to write in cursive, journal my feelings and thoughts, and better manage my emotions. Her penmanship was impeccable and as a result, mine became impeccable as well.

Moreover, Mrs. Bates taught me math, and I became the only student in the class to achieve perfect test grades. She transformed me from a disliked bully into a responsible, respected student. I formed new friendships, and by the end of the year, I was a different person. My mindset and behavior had undergone a significant change. I left her class with a passion for writing, art, and a newfound love for myself.

Thank you for reading 😊🙏

Who is the most confident person you know?

The most confident person I know is my uncle Clinton. He is also the toughest son-of-a-gun I’ve ever met. There aren’t a lot of photos of him, as he hates getting his picture taken.

This man has survived bowel, liver, and lung cancer. He’s 69 years old and turns 70 this April. He met each cancer diagnosis with the confidence that he would be cured. He would never accept that he was sick. He knew he had a condition, but that was never going to slow him down. He is a meditator. When asked how he overcame his cancer and how he dealt with the situation, he credited Reiki and a strong belief in self-healing. Hence the nickname “Clint-Rock.” I gave it to him after his last bout of liver cancer.

I remember the conversation at the side of his hospital bed after they removed three-quarters of his liver. I said to him, “You’re tougher than the hardest stone on the planet; you’re as solid as a rock. Ain’t nothing going to take out a rolling stone like you.” He laughed and said, “Clinton Clint-stone Dean.” Of course, he was coming out of anesthesia. I laughed with him, then replied, “Clint-Rock-Stone, the toughest, most confident son-of-a-gun on the planet.” We laughed some more, then I left to let him rest and recover. That was 15 years ago. Ever since that day, I’ve called him Uncle Clint-Rock. Everyone else in the family took a liking to it as well, so that’s what we all call him.

He’s the best, most loyal, and loving uncle. He’s been there for every one of his 15 nieces and nephews. He’s always there to coach us along, instilling confidence in whatever we’re doing. He has taken some of us in, helped out financially, and got businesses off the ground. He’s our comfort in times of grief and always keeps the peace. He’s widely respected by the older adults in the family, too. He’s a hard worker and has always seemed like he had a lot of money. Although, at times, he was just as broke as the rest of us; that never stopped him from getting whatever any of us needed, even if that meant taking on more work and sometimes going around the clock.

He’s had many careers: insurance salesman, real estate agent, painter, roofer, factory worker, taxi driver, apartment building manager, delivery driver, and now he works for the hospital, transporting patients to and from appointments for chemo, physiotherapy, dental care, and so on. He’s a great man with a huge heart and the confidence to go along with it. He once told me about his brush with death, how he wasn’t afraid and how he’s always been quite confident that we all get to a beautiful place when we do pass away.

He said that during one of his lung surgeries, he saw a tunnel and a bright light and at the end; his mother was there, waving to him, saying, “Not yet, son; see you later.” And that experience gave him even more confidence that life was going to be what it is, but he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

What activities do you lose yourself in?

By Tracy Schruder

My favourite activities that I always lose myself in are writing and painting. Whenever I’m writing fiction, horror or poetry, I’m gone. I’m inside fantastic worlds, with endless possibilities. I let my mind open wide to receive new ideas, scenes and characters. I build each story through my reaction to my fantasy.

Sometimes I feel the butterflies of excitement, dancing in my guts. I feel the shivers from within, from my deep, gut-wrenching fear. The kind that makes your hands shake, like a junkie in the first 24 hours of detox. There are times where I’m so entrenched in my character that I feel I’m being watched or stalked by them. My senses go into high gear. I’m triggered into suspicion from the most innocent sounds.

Something like a heavy thud from the cat falling off the table, cracking the boards in the hardwood floors, or the incessant scratching in the litter box – those noises lift the hairs straight up on the back of my neck. “What’s that?” I’ll mumble to myself, heart pounding up into my throat. “Is it a murder breaking in?” I whisper to myself. “Why do I write about such ungodly people?” I whisper again, with my hand on my chest and head shaking. “What’s that noise? It’s that monster in the walls trying to scrape through the drywall to suck the life out of me, I just know it is.”

So much fun! I have a love-hate relationship with fear. Yet, I’m completely lost when composing a terrifying tale. One night, I was hammering away at my laptop, composing a terrifying scene where one of my characters is forced to beat a suffering animal to death with a crowbar. I’m not me, in that moment, I am her. She’s terrified and disgusted, trembling with emotion, hands aching from the tightness of her grip on the rusty old tire iron. Knuckles ghost-white…

When all of a sudden, my cat reaches around my chair and digs her claw into my shoulder. I jumped a foot off my seat and screeched so loudly that I startled the poor kitty, and she darted out of there at lightning speed. My face, flushing with blood, and my hand dug into my chest, I bellowed out in a huge laugh. Oh my gosh, she got me, hahaha!

I get equally lost in memories when writing true stories about my life experiences or those that I witnessed. Every sentence is lived and relived as if it is happening in that moment. Same with my research projects. I am fascinated by what I discover. Such as the novel I’m writing about the unsolved murders in my hometown. Or the murderers in my own family history.

Days can go by with me knee-deep in missing persons files or transcripts from the court trials and convictions. My interview notes and the photographs. The murderers that I knew personally and the victims that I knew. It’s the unsolved ones that get to me the most. I have to get to the bottom of it. I go all private investigator and dig as deeply as I can into each case. It will be Monday morning, and before I know it, it’s Friday evening. Now that’s lost!

When I paint, the essence of being lost in it takes on a new meaning. It’s a completely different kind of escape from reality. I become the paint. It’s an extension of my imagination, and I’m leaving it all on the canvas for the world to see. I go to a place where only I exist until I bring into it the characters and landscape locations to join me in my creative journey.

Some days I don’t even know what I’m creating until it’s finished. I’m usually covered in various colours and mediums, spattered water, and strong fumes of paint thinner fill the air. Fingers and hands greasy with oils, and smock covered in hand swipes and finger wipes. Hair flickered with tiny balls of paint spray, tied in a messy bun. The day only just started, but now the sun is gone. A beautiful piece lay on my painting easel, I sign it, and it’s done.

I’m still buzzing from the experience, but I’m able to simmer down and get some rest. The next morning I awake and rush into my studio to verify that it wasn’t all just a dream.

What is your middle name? Does it carry any special meaning/significance?

By Tracy Schruder

I’m happy to share the story behind my middle names, which are Ruby and Hazel.

The Family meaning

When my mom met my dad, she already had two daughters, Jeneva Joyce and Elizabeth Ethel. Each of their names holds a special significance, reflecting my mom’s relationships and family ties. Jeneva was named after my mom’s best friend and cousin, Jennifer, and Eva, while Joyce was named after my mom’s aunt.

Elizabeth Ethel was named after my mom’s friend Betty, and Ethel, which my mom thought had a nice ring to it.

My Namesake

When it came to naming me, my parents chose Tracy, my dad’s favorite name, and Ruby, after my paternal grandmother. Hazel, my other middle name, was chosen in honor of my maternal grandmother.

Weaving Family Ties

My mom shared with me that she and my dad chose these middle names to “knit the family together.” My sister added that my birth helped solidify our family bonds, making my older sisters a part of my dad’s family and cementing his role as their dad.

A Personal Connection

Before I knew the story behind my middle names, I used to think it was cool that I was named after a precious stone (Ruby) and a rare eye color (Hazel). It turns out that my mom’s mom also had hazel-colored eyes, making the connection even more special.

Conclusion

My middle names, Ruby and Hazel, represent the love and connections that bind our family together. I am the only child of five who has three names. I like the story behind my names and their meaning.

Thank you for reading 😊

Write a letter to your 100-year-old self.

Isn’t it ironic that you are the one that made it this far? You’ve outlived all of your siblings and are now a kind of matriarch, of the family.

The newest generation calls you Grand-Auntie rather than great Auntie out of respect and gratitude because you’ve never left their side. You were always there for everyone, over your 100 years of life. You’ve been present for every birth and death. You’re the last one left

standing.

When life started there were five of you. You never imagined that you would be the one of the five to have to grieve four times to witness it all and be the last one standing.

Bittersweet, as I get so much love and recognition from their children and their children’s children.

I see you all, in everyone of their faces but it’s so lonely without you here. My gratitude overflows, I miss you, I love you all.

You reached your goals of building a Reiki treatment centre/School and they are world renowned. There is one in every major city in three Provences.

You’ve educated and employed every female member of your family for three generations. Your nieces and their children are now running the show.

However, not a week goes by without one of them visiting or calling you for advice, encouragement or love.

It’s your birthday and they have planned a grand celebration at Fairmont Chateau’s (Laurier Ottawa) Grand Ball Room. Everyone is invited. Family, Students, board members, all of those, who’s lives you affected.

You’ve come so far with your writing and you’re definitely left your mark in the pages of all the great writers of the world. In your 60 plus years of

putting pen to paper.

You’ve written 10 best selling horror novels, 13 separate series of 5 books each on women’s health, 6 award winning text books; for your specialty designed Reiki school, poems, articles and Essays.

You will be remembered. You’ve had an extremely fulfilling life. Now get up from reading this letter and go put on your best, most beautiful, dress and slap some paint on that smile. There’s a party waiting for you.

Do you believe in fate/destiny?

By Tracy Schruder

In 1993, I worked at a sewing and alteration shop in the heart of town. Every day at lunch, I’d walk past a busy taxi stand next door. That’s where I first laid eyes on him – a man who would become the love of my life, but at the time, was just a stranger.

My boss warned me about him, saying he wasn’t very friendly and to steer clear. So, I kept my distance, exchanging no more than a nod as I walked by. This continued for about a year, until the taxi stand changed ownership.

Fast-forward to August 2000. A friend asked for my help painting her twin girls’ room. That’s where I met Brian, my friend’s husband’s best friend. We hit it off immediately, bonding over our shared experiences and laughter.

As we painted, Brian shared stories about his son, and I found myself drawn to his kind and caring nature. We discovered we were both single, and he asked me out on a date to the fair. I accepted, and little did I know, our lives were about to intersect in a profound way.

Later that afternoon, Brian revealed a surprising confession: he had known me from afar. He told me about his time owning the taxi stand in the early 90s, where he would watch this blonde girl walk by every day. He was taken aback by his strong attraction to her, but felt helpless, being committed to someone else at the time.

Brian shared that he had thought about her often over the years, wondering what could have been. He believed she was his soulmate, and he was overjoyed to have finally met her.

I was stunned. The girl he had been thinking about all those years was me.

That night, at the fair, Brian and I fell deeply in love. We’ve been inseparable ever since, celebrating 25 years together this August.

Was it destiny? I believe so.

Reflections

Looking back, I realize that our chance encounter was more than just coincidence. It was a second chance at love, a reminder that life is full of unexpected twists and turns.

Brian’s story taught me that true love can withstand time and circumstance. Our 25-year journey has been filled with laughter, tears, and adventure, but most importantly, it’s been filled with love.

I hope our story inspires you to believe in the power of true love and the idea that destiny can bring two souls together in the most unexpected ways.

I hope you enjoyed my story. 😊

Thank you for reading 🙏

What is the last thing you learned?

By Tracy Schruder

My Latest Lesson: Teaching Reiki

My journey as a compassionate Reiki Master Teacher began with a personal experiment. After experiencing the profound benefits of Reiki firsthand, I was driven to learn more about this holistic practice. I delved into various Reiki techniques, including Chakra Healing, Kundalini Reiki, and Usui Reiki.

As my passion for Reiki grew, I sought out formal training to deepen my understanding and skills. In 2015, I embarked on a journey of formal education, studying under the guidance of esteemed instructors Benardino Nardella and Melissa Crowhurst at Udemy College. This rigorous training broadened my knowledge and instilled in me a strong foundation in the principles and practices of Reiki.

Becoming a Reiki Grandmaster teacher has been a transformative experience, empowering me to help others cultivate inner peace and harmony. As a Reiki instructor, I’ve had the privilege of guiding students on their own Reiki journeys, watching them grow and develop their skills.

Currently, I teach Reiki on a one-on-one basis, but I have ambitious plans to expand my reach. I’m designing a classroom at my rural property, where I’ll be able to teach Reiki to larger groups. The plans are already drawn up, and I’ve selected the perfect location.

As I reflect on my journey, I’m reminded that acquiring the skill to teach Reiki has not only enhanced my life but also elevated my level of education. I’m eager to share this knowledge with others, inspiring them to embark on their own Reiki journeys.

Conclusion

The latest skill I’ve acquired, teaching Reiki, has been a profoundly rewarding experience. As I reflect on my journey, I’m reminded that learning is a lifelong process, and there’s always room to grow and expand our knowledge. Acquiring the skill to teach Reiki has not only enhanced my life but also empowered me to make a positive impact on others. I’m excited to continue sharing my passion for Reiki with others and inspiring them to embark on their own journey of discovery and growth.

Thank you for reading 😊🙏