This Business of Life and Business: Pot-Au-Feu

By Ray Byfield

May we all embrace and help to fashion life's reality as it is intended to be, not for selfish or self-serving purposes, but with morality and spiritual depth, for the good of all humanity.
- Ray Byfield

This inspiring thought came to me amidst the backdrop of some tempestuous life experiences when I was trying to understand why my business and personal relationships seemed to have faltered.
Though my efforts bore all the hallmarks of success, it wasn't enough to hinder my rapid downward spiral from grace with family, friends, and myself, which plunged me into such abysmal realms that it nearly caused my death.
I had it all figured out. I was on a trajectory toward prominence in the hair and beauty industry, but my personal and business relationships devolved in a frightening manner which ultimately defiled all my good intentions and endeavors.
My relationships with 'Madam' and subsequently 'Vex' (not their real names) brought me to a place of servitude and drudgery. However, this caused me to dig deep into the depths of spirituality, and I formed a philosophical context which brought about a higher understanding of the inner workings of life, and of self.
And then there was Rob, my good friend who once worked in the upper echelons of the banking industry. Along with sound advice, he helped me to understand more about how life in the business world worked.
While wallowing in an abyss of darkness which was heightened by the loss of close friends and family, I became more aware about identifying with the pain of others, and through offering whatever means of encouragement I could, I quickly learned that I was capable of preventing them from falling off the edge of life the way I almost did.
Eventually I came to terms with the stark realization that my life experiences were not accidents, but growth experiences. My book offers useful tips on how to see this truth.
Within these pages you may find a business and life plan that will cost you only the price of a paperback book. Should anyone adopt any of these principles, then I will achieve great satisfaction in knowing I have made a positive impact in the world.
Please take a moment to leave a few words about this book at: raybyfieldauthor.com
Be sure to leave your email address, which will be entered into a lottery system, in order to select a participant who will qualify to receive a donation to their charity of choice. A foundation will be set up for the purpose of managing this charitable effort.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Oct 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9780228828068

Ray Byfield

Ray Byfield migrated to Canada from Jamaica in December 1999. Like countless others, he sought refuge from the effects of a global economic imbalance and a lack of opportunities for meaningful work in Jamaica.Armed with a passion to seek better for his family and himself, he sought to make meaningful and earnest contributions toward community development and the economic wheel in Canada.It became clear at an early stage that he would have had to adapt not only to extreme weather conditions, but to an economic climate, both locally and on a global scale, that was also frigid.Weathering these economic challenges meant working several jobs at a time in order to survive. A recent tally revealed that Ray worked at 22 different companies on a full-time basis in Canada. In addition, he registered and operated 7 different businesses.In Ray's words, "The act of survival itself is hard work. In my own businesses, whenever I could I hired neighbors and friends from my community, to 'help at home' and I also shared food and services with them to give them hope while we all worked together to create a stable community environment. This became our survival mechanism during the gloomy financial conditions that existed in North America at the time."Now, having come through that time of his life, Ray's first book, This Business of Life and Business, reflects upon his life challenges and personal growth

Book preview

This Business of Life and Business

Pot-Au-Feu

Ray Byfield

This Business of Life and Business

Copyright © 2020 by Ray Byfield

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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Tellwell Talent

www.tellwell.ca

ISBN

978-0-2288-2805-1 (Hardcover)

978-0-2288-2804-4 (Paperback)

978-0-2288-2806-8 (eBook)

Table of Contents

Dedication

Introduction

1. Challenges Writing the Book

2. Acclimation

3. Life—Definitions, Interpretations and Ecoelementization

4. Business—Definitions and Interpretations

5. Financial Review

6. Business Relationships

7. Personal Relationships – Conspiracy to Defile, Part 1

8. Personal Relationships – Conspiracy to Defile, Part 2

9. Back to China

10. The Aftermath

11. The Power Within

12. Relationships: The Power of Forgiveness

13. The Overcoming: Adversity and Near Despoliation

14. Relationships: Online

15. A World Out of Control

16. The Power of Mind

17. Hopeful Advice for Tomorrow (HAT)

18. The Connectivity of Life

19. The Ultimate Purpose

Acknowledgements

Future Bliss

Author Biography

Dedication

To My Children:

This book is dedicated to my lovely daughters, K. Mei and V. Hua Byfield, affectionately referred to as my ‘little angels’ (‘Diamond’ and ‘Pearl’), and to my sons K. Blair Byfield and G. Sergio Lawson (my eldest). You all played an integral part in helping your dad discover and overcome the plethora of deep emotions that contribute to depres sion.

During your time here on Earth, you have all shown me how remarkable you are in your own special ways. The love you’ve showed, jointly and separately as you grew, has had a positive impact on me. You’ve showed me how cool you all are, playing your roles as obedient children, which has had an immensely positive impact on my outlook on life. The joy and laughter you have brought me is a great source of encouragement and has helped pull from me an innate strength I never knew I had, averting a fall from grace.

Life is full of challenges. At times you might be faced with insurmountable ones that bring up intrinsic questions about life. With all your best efforts, you may not find quick solutions, something I have discovered in my own journey. But stay true to yourselves and know that there is always wisdom and hope within your grasp. Reach out in earnest, so that you can find the knowledge and understanding in the universe that is available to us all.

As I reflect, I realize that had it not been for the joy I found in seeing you all grow, I would have likely taken my own life. But, as you can see, I am still here.

This book is my way of giving back to you in the hopes that you will understand and relate to the path I took toward survival. Some details in this book might be unsettling, but I have no doubt you will come to terms with them. Read this and then, in your own way, find a path toward the love and care you will need when facing tomorrow’s challenges.

Don’t be afraid to exercise your right to a quality life while expressing your love for humanity. Draw from this love as you begin to hone the principles of survival for yourselves. My hope for each of you is that you will take time to look at life from a broader perspective, so that you will know the choices at your fingertips. These choices are what will help you to make whatever differences you can make in the world.

And to some special others:

To those who succumbed to intense but silent challenges, such as are often meted out to the unsuspecting few. People I’d like to make particular reference to, who slipped from the grasp of their own lives, include: International recording artist, Vesta Williams (with whom I had a personal but brief relationship); actor Anthony Bourdain; famous musician and artist Prince Rogers Nelson; singer and songwriter Amy Winehouse (who I bumped into briefly at the Ye Olde Mitre Pub in Ely Place, London as she was on the cusp of becoming famous for her hit song Rehab); and, vocalist extraordinaire, Whitney Houston.

Another shining young star I would like to pay tribute to is Blake Anthony Cornel Hoo, an aspiring A class motorsports driver from Toronto, Ontario, who was affectionately and personally known to me as ‘Blakie’. Blakie was the charismatic son of my good friend Donna Hoo. At the very early age of seven he displayed an eagerness to always want to help and, as I recall, he once introduced to me a method by which I could roll 900 car tires from a shipping container into a warehouse on my own, back when I was involved in the operation of a tire distribution business (2004 through 2005) in Ontario.

And last but not least I pay tribute to Bryan Wollaston, my closely-knit New York brother, a young, hardworking dad of four children, a spirited young lad who never sweated anything, not even the big stuff and who always maintained a calm, suave disposition. Your legacy lives on, Bryan.

I bring remembrance briefly to their names so that others who knew their goodness will find comfort in reflecting on their lives. Through their pain and suffering, I am encouraged. Remember to hang tight throughout your strife. Talk to someone, speak in a manner that inclines the ear of others and, as additional encouragement, read this book.

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Introduction

This is not a typical memoir, nor is it simply a story of my personal life. It is a much larger story that reflects my relationships with some of my closest business allies and acquaintances, and how they impacted me, whether positively or negati vely.

Information, in written form or otherwise, can sometimes have an adverse effect on people. In my business dealings, I prefer written communication so I can read and re-read content; determine whether my emotions are hindering the true essence of what I mean to write or what I have read; and, I can better evaluate the intent of what others have written. This principle formed the basis through which I placated my emotions and thinking processes, while writing this book, despite the harsh reality of life as it existed about me.

In today’s world, people are susceptible to marketing ploys that drive economies. Sadly, there are no fool-proof measures that can be employed to siphon off the real from the fake. The media is abuzz with all the things that can lead us to unwarranted scrutiny, and many succumb to the unrelenting bombardment of social media. This combines to add more worries to our daily grind, and when we ignore warning signals that we’ve had enough, life’s pressure can erode our capacity to think clearly and cause us harm. At our weakest ebb, we don’t see the goodness of life. This can cause some to take their own lives.

It’s all about money these days, it seems. It’s all about economic implications rather than the preservation of life. When you take your own life, the bureaucratic systems are happy. They divvy up your estate, extract their pound of flesh and share the spoils as they see fit. And their systems are crafted in a manner that lies only within the pages of the documents they produce—which gather dust in an archive somewhere or, these days, in the cloud.

What you will find within these pages are real-life stories about my successes and failures. They are tied to practices that are commonplace these days, both within society and within the business world. This book is an account of my life experiences, but also presents plausible ideas about life in general and how we can decode our past experiences so they can profoundly impact our futures.

This book also includes details about my business experiences and personal relationships, which have heavily influenced my philosophical interpretation of life.

Going forward, I hope to open my life in a way that shows my readers that they are not alone.

PREFACE

The easiest decisions are generally those that are made for you.

I used to lament and be disappointed about things that happened to me that I perceived to be out of my control—and the unnerving reality was, many times the same things occurred repeatedly, as though I had not learnt from my previous experie nces.

For the better portion of my life, I wanted something different than the lives modeled for me by my parents and some family members. Their life experiences, and the examples they set, convinced me that I wanted a different outcome for my life, and I did not want to take the life paths they did.

I was born out of wedlock, in Lime Hall, St. Ann, Jamaica. My mother and my father were never married, and even after my birth their work and business lives kept them far apart from each other. But they were content with living faraway from one another. For me, however, I only got to see my father when he stopped by on occasion, or when he received bad verbal reports about me and wanted to drive the fear of God into my soul. Indiscretions I was guilty of included climbing the tall trees in my backyard and swinging from limb to limb like an orangutan (and trying to sound like one at that). I jolly well knew I was not supposed to do this, and I had been given fair warning, but I perceived what I was doing as an act of bravery, and boys will be boys.

Thinking about my daredevil ways, I see now the injury or harm I could have brought upon myself had I slipped and fallen from what could easily be equated to the height of a ten story building; nonetheless, I was a willful child who didn’t want to listen. By then, I had already seen enough of my family’s lifestyle that I was determined to go my own way.

Despite my family situation, I grew up with the idea that marriage was very important and was intended to be a onetime event. We were taught in school and in church that the ten commandments of the Bible were to be our ultimate guide. My grandma, who raised me, took me to church every Sunday. And that’s where I formed my opinion about what parents should be and what was correct in the sight of God. I was bent on changing the modus operandi of my family life path by growing up to be legally married and part of a family unit that would defy the test of time and stay together regardless of life’s challenges. I meant to support the marriage declaration of ‘until death do us part’.

Sadly, things did not work out that way and, after two divorces and a major separation, I had to do some soul searching to find out why the same things kept reoccurring, and why I was cursed to be on a path I wanted so much to avoid.

Patting myself on the shoulder, I would say I am fairly decent and even relatively handsome. I wasn’t an unruly or mean-spirited young lad. I never tried hard drugs. I worked very hard throughout my career and I tried very hard to make my marriages work. But God had other plans for me.

In my first marriage, I married my Jamaican childhood sweetheart Nicole, who migrated to and arrived to join me in Toronto, a few months following my landed status, in Canada. When my partner wanted to leave, I tried to bond with her through the Holy Spirit. I knelt beside our bed one beleaguered morning, held her hand and began to pray—and in a moment of bewilderment, she yanked her hand away, got off her knees and walked out of the apartment. The following day, I came home from work to find the locks changed, and my bags packed and out in the corridor—at the entrance to an apartment I had acquired and worked hard to pay for on Culford road, near Amesbury Park in central Toronto.

Everything in sight turned blue for me. I literally saw all things in one color, blue and nothing else but blue. For a couple of months my whole world went downhill and was filled with negative events. My outlook was bleak, and I became transfixed with the notion that maybe I had stepped off a train onto the wrong platform, and that maybe it was not even on this planet. That might explain why I couldn’t see any colors except for blue.

It took me a while—almost three months—to regain my ordinary visual faculties, not to mention my composure. I soon found out my first ex-wife had found favor with a bus driver who drove her to work daily between Toronto and Mississauga. After coming to grips with this revelation, coupled with her rejection of my attempts to reconnect with her, I gave up. I redirected my focus and immersed myself in a business opportunity, to become the owner of two successful franchise restaurants, selling tacos, in Toronto.

My success with these restaurants lasted only up until the SARS pandemic (severe acute respiratory syndrome, a viral respiratory disease that emerged 2002/03) which had economic effects across the world, as COVID-19 does today. On the usually bustling commute via Toronto’s Sheppard Center’s subway interchange, SARS had the public running scared and patrons opted to head straight home from their various places of work to eat. Soon food courts and shopping facilities became ghost towns.

My businesses, along with everyone else’s, suffered. I had one restaurant on Young Street and another at the Steele Avenue intersection, both areas that were deemed to be high-risk due to high traffic. With people dying in record numbers, business soon ground to a halt and I chose to fold both franchise restaurants.

With my business losses behind me, I decided to pack up and head as far west as I could get. The unforgiving experiences of Toronto made it an easy decision. My friend Salah was fine with hauling all my belongings west to Calgary for me while I flew, as he wanted to relocate there too. My plan was to continue onward to Vancouver once I’d retrieved my things from Salah.

At the time, Calgary had had an abundance of ‘help wanted’ signs strewn along its 16th Avenue thoroughfare, and that’s what prompted me to settle there. In hindsight, I should have followed my original plan.

I sold my home in Toronto and started exploring the possibility of porting my mortgage over to a new home in Calgary. My search for a suitable residence led me to love.

I met Madam on a dating website. She was working with a prominent builder at the time. Eventually, we got married, but ultimately my second wife and I could not see eye to eye about money and the waning health of our finances. Prior to the 2008 recession, I tried to caution her about the possibility of an economic downturn and the need for us to pay attention to how we were spending our hard-earned money. She was dead set against curtailing her spending habits. She made it clear that, We are forever going to live on credit, it’s just that simple.

Her naivety dumbfounded me, because it was set against the backdrop of a looming recession. My disbelief, coupled with a desire to achieve otherwise, made me protest. But her caustic declaration was her way of saying, Don’t disturb this groove we’re in.

We were living a nice life, entertaining guests at regular weekend parties—you know, trying to ‘keep up with the Joneses’ in an area of Calgary known as Marda Loop . I enjoyed this, but after a while I noticed that she made it a point to invite our tenant up from the basement for dinner on an almost daily basis. He was a nice enough guy who worked on the army base close by, but I was thinking that an extra mouth to feed was too much. We had a young child now, and he was nine months old. I preferred to spend my money on him.

Well, it wasn’t much longer before we were experiencing an economic recession. Like normal couples, we had disagreements from time to time, mostly because I was trying to be frugal, but she began to accuse me of withholding income. She said, You’re not contributing as per normal, and became upset that we could not keep up with the whims and fancies of our neighbors. Then things took a turn for the worst. Financiers and investors for a hotel project I had spearheaded went scampering because my wife took to the telephone and started to call all my contacts to question where I was getting the financing to fund this project.

It was clear that she was unhappy, but I didn’t see the picture until one day, while I was constructing an office in our garage, police officers showed up with a warrant for my arrest. They announced they were there to confiscate firearms reported to be in the home. It turned out that my wife had filed papers in provincial court saying she feared for her life, and that I might cause harm to her and our child.

She also told the court that I was involved in an attempt on the life of my business partner and friend, Danny. Danny and I grew up together as brothers in Jamaica; however, one tragic day, gunmen entered his office while he was closing his business. While trying to protect his child (who was present in the office at the time), as well as some of his business partners, he took three shots. Thankfully he survived the ordeal.

I was in Canada at the time of Danny’s horrific brush with death. Even though we had our fair share of disagreements as business partners, I was dismayed by the news. I was thankful that Danny was alive, not only because he worked hard to pave a way for himself and his family, but because he could corroborate my story and make a statement against the claims of my spouse.

I could not understand why my wife crafted such defamatory slander, and worse, how the court system issued a warrant for my arrest. In retrospect, I guess the police have to take allegations involving guns and domestic abuse seriously.

This time, even with the police hovering about the residence in search of weapons, I didn’t see blue. I was calmer because by now I was familiar with how crafty and deceptive people can be. I had already experienced the deceit of someone I loved. But at least my first wife didn’t get me arrested.

My second wife made it clear at an early stage of our relationship that she wanted to experiment with extramarital affairs and sexual misconduct while pregnant. I should have made a stand, but, blindsided by my commitment to the institution of marriage (along with the fear of letting go a second time), I didn’t lest I be accused of immoral behavior. And then came the illuminating realization that she was in favor in locking me up, lock, stock and barrel, unlike wife number one. She (Nicole) simply left my personal belongings by the door of our matrimonial home.

With yet another bruise on my ego, I found enough strength to move forward. However malicious and self-serving an act this was, I was willing to look past the ills and I sought help through family counselling services. But Madam had her own agenda and wanted to have her way, for reasons unbeknownst to me at the time.

A few months prior to this event, we had remortgaged our home, and had just over $50,000 of that money sitting in our joint account. One day, during a routine banking transaction, I was shocked at the sudden disappearance of said funds. I expressed my utter confusion to the bank teller, who was equally confused. Just a week before, the same teller had printed out a statement for me reflecting the balance.

I called Madam and she told me she had shifted the money to an investment account with another institution which offered a higher rate of interest. I believed her, since we’d had a discussion previously about such an investment. And, in the name of peace, love and harmony, I avoided raising the topic with her again.

And that was the day she called the cops on me. Armed with a warrant and an Emergency Protection Order (EPO), the police officers searched the home and found no firearms except a pellet gun owned by my wife’s eldest son. Nevertheless, they instructed me to pack a few things and immediately vacate the premises. I had to leave behind my young son, along with the bulk of my personal effects.

It was utterly unsettling that I had to leave behind a property into which I had invested heavily and single-handedly cleaned, renovated, and organized. I had tirelessly transformed a hoarder’s pad into a clean, well-organized, clutter-free environment, to become a rental suite. And now I was going to lose it all.

That occurrence set things in motion I had not anticipated; today, I look at it as a decision made on my behalf. As much as my life was hanging in the balance, I kept focusing on moving forward, toward financial stability, and I tried to plan my way back to my normal cheerful self. Out of this misfortune, and along with some amount of desperation, a passion grew from the seeds of an idea I had while living in a basement suite in Calgary’s southwest.

Marta Hernandez, a dear friend of mine, worked with me at Sears Canada at their Vaughn outlet in Ontario, and she decided to relocate with her family to Alberta. At that time, I had just about finished my basement suite at the home I shared with Madam, and so I offered to let her stay until she found a more permanent place of residence. It was a short month’s stay for Marta and her family; they were able to find a detached home within the neighborhood in no time.

When I was served with an order to vacate my residence, Marta saved me. I was able to sleep on her carpeted floor for a few weeks. I was emotionally bruised and hurting badly but, each day I would go about my business as if nothing had happened. That infuriated my malicious ex-wife. She somehow prompted the police to arrest me at Marta’s home while I was resting up before an evening shift at work.

Can I speak to Ray Byfield please? asked one officer when Marta answered the door.

Marta looked frightened, perhaps thinking, what trouble have I gotten myself into, harboring a criminal? Nervously, she woke me up and told me two officers were waiting at the door for me.

Good evening, gentlemen, how may I help you? I confidently asked.

We have a warrant for your arrest. Can you step outside please? We hope you are not going to give us any trouble, Ray, said one officer.

Why should I? I’m not a criminal, I retorted.

Okay now, please come over here, place your hands on the wall and spread your legs, he said.

I acted upon their request immediately, but one officer had to be officious. Do you hear what we are asking you to do? he asked sternly.

Gentlemen, I heard you and that’s exactly what I am proceeding to do, I said.

My well-worded statement must have gotten their attention. He replied, Thank you.

After I was frisked, one officer asked me if I intended to remain calm and I politely confirmed that I would. They decided not to handcuff me. As I sat in the cramped police cruiser, with not enough legroom for me to sit facing forward, I became dismayed by the depressing appearance of the interior of this vehicle. This alone is a deterrent to crime, I thought. Maybe the police should have seminars for companies where white-collar crime is prevalent to provide them with an inside look into what they can expect if they are incarcerated for their misdeeds.

Just before I was ushered into a prison cell, out of curiosity, I asked the police officers, Why am I here?

My query caught the attention of a sergeant, who came forward from a back office. Can I see the EPO? he asked.

The officers looked confused. They went with the sergeant into another room. As it turned out, the EPO was expired. The door was ajar, but I could still hear him dressing down the officers and shaking the paper at them. God damn it, guys! Did you look at the EPO? he questioned. The EPO expired over a week ago, he said disparagingly. Now, take the gentleman back to his home and I wish to see you both when you return.

Needless to say, I got home … and I was even in time for my overnight shift.

While I was at work that evening, I received a few calls that heightened my suspicion that my ex-wife was calling to see if I had showed up for work. It was a part of my duty to handle incoming calls with a pleasant, How may I help you? A few times that night, the silence on the phone was deafening. I kept saying, Hello? Hello? Are you there? All I would hear was a click when the caller disconnected. That must have gotten under her skin. I knew the reason I’d been arrested in the first place was because she’d called the police; the officers who made the arrest told me. I knew I had to move on and start a life away from her.

It was while I was staying at Marta’s that I began to formulate a plan for combining my knowledge of the service industry with a desire to distribute my own line of hair products, high end salon products marketed at an affordable price. Ultimately, this dream became a large-scale product development and distribution network, branded under the company name SofStyle Inc.

It was during the course of developing this dream that I met my third life partner, ‘the Vex’, while on one of my research trips to China. In addition to finding the love of my life, because of her fluency in both English and Chinese, she helped me to navigate business in China. I felt this was a match made in heaven. Four years and two little angels later, who would imagine that I would be once again staring down the barrel of yet another major separation which would result in the subsequent loss of my business?

But there was learning and gaining valuable experience also. Even though I failed three times in my significant relationships, I still believed in love and that wretched institution. However, I now understood that being emotionally connected to your business partner did not guarantee the partnership would last.

The Vex and I had a few business-related squabbles, but I had no way of telling that small issues would have far-reaching implications and subsequently devastate a relationship that seemed to be one of harmony and prosperity. The frequency wasn’t a precursor to the massive embezzlement scheme that took place within our business. Ultimately, I was left to fend for my two little angels. Thankfully, my visiting mother (Fay) was available to help take care of the little darlings until, after a period of about two years, I got myself back on my feet.

With this separation, the additional pressure of single-handedly operating a full-scale distribution business began to take a toll on me, and while I was seriously depressed at this time, I opted to choose life over death.

So, with Toronto and Calgary both being complete write-offs for me, I packed whatever belongings I had left, gave away my furniture and other stuff I had accumulated over the years and made the move from a five-bedroom home into a one-bedroom apartment in British Columbia.

A former bookkeeper of mine took control of some of my ‘scaling down’ efforts, posting items online for sale through thrift sale platforms. Meanwhile, I headed further west in hopes of distancing myself from the ‘blue’ clouds that loomed above me.

Welcome to British Columbia, said the burly man, disguised as a newfound friend, as he squirmed in his chair against the tight squeeze of the armrests. Make yourself comfortable.

As I began to sit, he chortled, Eh, eh, eh, not that one, the next chair, and then he rattled out a cough. With head bowed and his chubby cheeks and chin perched upon his chest, he said, I can only extend the courtesy to you for two weeks. Elaine is not doing well, and I don’t want to put her under any pressure. His English sounded as if it was crafted by the Queen of England herself. And while you are here, a contribution towards utilities would be greatly appreciated, he added.

I met Mr. Burly Man back in the summer of 2014 when he stopped into my Edmonton Trail store in Calgary, on a visit from British Columbia, looking to purchase dominos. He was after a special kind and size of game pack which I had imported from China and he had contacted us in advance. I hadn’t met him face to face at the time, as I was out on sales deliveries, but on the day of his visit, Vex called me from the store so that Mr. Burly Man could express his satisfaction over his domino purchases.

He seemed a pleasant fellow, and to bring home how satisfied he was, he extended an open invitation to me and my family to stay at his home, if we ever went to British Columbia. When Vex and I separated, I took him up on his offer. I needed a place to ‘land’ when I arrived in B.C., and this seemed like a good opportunity.

How was I to know that this gesture of goodwill would turn into a full-blown litigation exercise, with a local lawyer insisting that I pay Mr. Burly Man an amount way beyond a ‘contribution towards utilities’? It was yet another slap to my already damaged psyche. When you read through the rest of this book, you will wonder why I didn’t go cuckoo; I wonder that myself!

Many of the atrocities I have encountered on my life path occurred because someone else decided what path I should take, regardless of my aspirations otherwise. In retrospect, had I made my own choices, it would have afforded me the ability to live my best life. Oh well, that’s part of reality, I suppose.

All I can say is, try never to make decisions for others because what goes around, comes around. You never know if decisions you make for others are in their best interest. It is okay to provide leadership and act as a guide, but allow others to decide the path they would like to choose.

I have found that generally, challenges provide an avenue to learn. Learning is complex and life-long. For every experience that has come along, I have stopped and taken time to analyze what I have learned and what benefits I gained. It has finally dawned on me that my life experiences have provided me with the tools I need to capitalize on opportunities. Things that have happened to me are not entirely the result of others making decisions for me; I am on a particular path that God intends me to follow. I’ve also realized that as I continue to go placidly amidst the noise and haste, I often forget to gain my portion of peace from silence. Also, when I have veered off course, I have suffered the consequences. By not looking back, paying attention and connecting the dots, I have missed information I needed in order to chart my future.

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CHAPTER 1

Challenges Writing the Book

This book about my life challenges has been written to demonstrate that we do not need to settle and accept the status quo. There are many who believe in peddling the status quo because it helps them advance their agendas. If you are like me, sometimes you don’t have total control over day - t o -d ay life; that’s when you can stop and ponder some of these pages. If you benefit from what I share within the pages of this book, I hope it makes an enormous contribution to your life. Share your thinking with others and help them too. Invoke your own right to a good life while holding those entrusted with power over yours account able.

Issues With Putting This Book Together

The old adage, ‘if you want a job done properly, do it yourself’ is not always the best approach. In my case, as I tried to put together a myriad of information compiled over 20 years, it could be described as a mammoth task. What I found to be most challenging was finding someone who could assist me with typing. I needed to step away frequently from the role of writing about myself so I could recover from the emotional rollercoaster of typing out details that brought back recollections of harsh times. I searched relentlessly for a typist who could fill this void and read my writing repeatedly throughout the editing cycle of this book.

I asked around and even posted pamphlets in supermarkets and on school notice boards looking for a typist. I didn’t ask for a publicist, but I found one anyway, who rightfully wanted to charge me $10,000 to publish my book.

In general, those who responded wanted a salary. Some wanted a salary plus free meals and transportation as well! I wondered if maybe I didn’t clearly outline what I was looking for when I said I ‘needed help with typing, and copying and pasting the details of my book from one file to another’. Whichever way it was interpreted, it was not within my scope or pockets to pay the amounts people expected. And even with such exorbitant rates, some people told me they would work only within their time availability, as they had lots going on in their lives.

At this point, the adage that ‘nothing beats a trial but a failure’ applied and it kept me motivated to find that one diamond in the rough—and so my continued search brought me to Alphy.

I got to my bus stop one morning on my way to work, and like every other human being standing there, we were all in our ‘zones’, waiting anxiously to get onto the next bus. Along came a woman, little ‘Ms. Petite’, in a blue dress which easily could have been construed as maternity wear. The dress made her stand out from the other commuters. As she looked from behind the glass billboard to see if our transit pickup was in view, from the other side I looked too, and our eyes made four, in a manner of speaking. Then along came the bus and we got on and off at our respective destinations.

It was my intention to make a stop at the mall after work to do a few errands. As I walked into the mall, there was Ms. Petite in blue. We noticed each other but did not speak. After a few stops, to pay my phone bill and to window shop, I decided to stop into an Image Eyewear shop, to honor an appointment for prescription glasses. I had been there before a few times, to get a feel and try on some trendy Ray-Ban glasses. I checked in and waited for the eye specialist. I began to look at frames and tried a few. There were two sets I could not decide on, so, I solicited the help of the shop representatives. Even with their help, it was difficult to decide between these two favorites of mine. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw emerging from the optometrist’s office, Ms. Petite lady in blue. I had an epiphany at that moment as she looked at me with a gentle smile. And then I jumped at the opportunity to ask her opinion about which of the two pairs suited me better.

She gave her humble opinion and I took it as unbiased, given that she was not an employee of the store. So, my decision hinged on the contribution of my newfound friend, Ms. Petite in blue.

Several weeks passed and one particular morning, I took the bus from my home stop, and got off midway to attend to banking matters. Then I had to hop onto another bus that was on its way to the transit terminal. As I was about to alight, there in view was Ms. Petite once more, but this time she was wearing street garb—jeans and a sweatshirt, and a knapsack which was almost as big as she was.

She turned around and said, Hi, and then after a quick greeting, we went our own ways. I gathered she was on her way to school and that she probably attended college. I thought she must be somewhere between 18 and 21 years of age or thereabouts. I recall thinking to myself that she had a gentle, angelic presence. Good for her, I thought. It’s nice to meet good people in the world.

Anyway, we never saw each other again until two weeks later. She was ahead of me as we got off the transit and were about to cross the traffic thoroughfare when again we made eye contact. This time we spoke for a few moments and after courtesies were exchanged, we got to the point of divulging further details, including names and general areas where we lived. It was a casual exchange, and at one point I asked her about her typing skills. I told her that I was working on a book and was painstakingly trying to put it together in terms of having it typed out. She said she’d be interested in assisting with this project and, as she later explained, the offer couldn’t have come at a better time. She had just had her hours at work reduced and since her school assignments had not been as rigorous as in the past few months as they were before, she was in a good position to help me.

I had to thank my lucky stars; she lived a street over from where I lived, which made it very convenient for communicating, and also allowed her easy access to the hard copy information I had in my possession that I needed her to transcribe.

It was an uncanny experience, made especially coincidental because she migrated from an area in India in which I had previously traveled. What are the odds? When I think that a million different circumstances could have occurred, was a stark reminder of how small the world is.

However, after a few days of contemplating the initial approach to the book, Alphy became apprehensive about the emotional effect many of the details of the book were already having on her. She was thinking, what the heck! This guy’s been through the gamut. Failed relationships, a string of businesses that went under … and what’s up with him writing to banking institutions and government agencies, reaching out to Christine Lagarde of the International Monetary Fund, Rachel Maddow of MSNBC and expressing his concerns about the USA elections?

Perplexed, Alphy conveyed her thoughts to me with a look that said, ‘I can’t handle this, Ray’. We met to talk about it, and she said anxiously, Looks like I’ll be getting myself into a realm that I’m not prepared to handle right now.

I should have sensed in advance her strong aversion towards taking on this project, as her texts were starting to take on a negative tone. Then we had a phone conversation and, sobbing, she declared, I am having a hard time going through with this.

And to think she was excited and committed a few weeks before! Needless to say, Alphy got cold feet and dropped the project.

Anyone who has met me, in whatever walk of life, usually departs with an indelible impression that I’m a decent guy. Those who are around me for a while generally embrace the idea that ‘everybody loves Ray’, to coin a line from the popular sitcom, Everybody Loves Raymond. But sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, and this was one of those times.

After this awkward situation, life brought me back to a woman I knew named Cherie Duggan. Cherie and I met around 16 years ago while I worked in a small, family-run hotel in Toronto.

We meet many people in our lives, but from time to time you meet someone with whom you form a lasting connection. You may not know why that person leaves an impression, but sooner or later life reveals the reason. Sometimes it is not manifested for many years, but a seed is sown that eventually bears fruit.

Cherie and her friend Nicole were on a two-week business engagement in the Toronto area. We got to chit-chatting about the daily inscriptions that I displayed at the hotel, quotes from famous writers, logged in a book. From time to time, I would add my own original quotes, without crediting myself. Sometimes, they made enough of an impression that a few guests paused to ponder them.

One of these quotes was as follows: May we all embrace and help to fashion life’s reality as it is intended to be, not for selfish or self-serving purposes, but with morality and spiritual depth, for the good of all humanity.

The conversations I had with Cherie were intellectually stimulating and at one point we decided to get together, along with Nicole, for dinner at my residence up in Maple, an area in the city of Vaughan, Ontario.

I prepared jerk chicken, a favourite Jamaican dish. This was their final evening in town, and we had a pleasant evening of good food, wine and conversation.

When they checked out of the hotel the following morning, they left a card of thanks for the pleasant evening. That boded well with me and I was elated to have left a positive impression on two of my fellow humans.

Over the years we kept in contact with each other, mainly on social media. When Facebook became the social media of choice, we established an instant connection, following each other, but the times we communicated directly were far and few between. Apart from our postings, our lives were segregated, busy and separated by geography.

Now, 16 years later, work had taken me to B.C. and to an employer, IKEA Canada, that had once employed my two friends, Cherie and Nicole. Unbeknownst to me, they had a few friends still employed at the same location, who became my peers. I had no idea that destiny would have brought Cherie and I together again, until one busy day when an announcement on the PA system said that I should meet a visitor in the foyer on the upper level of the store.

I had not the slightest idea that it would be my long-lost friend. I was all perked up and wondering what high importance warranted that I be paged. Being a handsome guy, sometimes customers hit on me, so I wondered if it was one of my fans seeking me out. That wasn’t it; it was my friend Cherie, who I instantly recognized. We were so happy to see each other!

Once we got to talking, I told her about my book, and she said she could help me. That’s exciting, Ray, she remarked. I’ve got some time on my hands. Why don’t I help you out? It would be a great way to catch up on the last 16 years.

I was very grateful and as I looked at my old friend, I noticed that Cherie looked every bit as youthful as the first time I had met her, 16 years ago. I had to ask. What are you doing that keeps you looking the same over these years? Whatever it is, I’d like in on the secret.

She laughed. You’re not doing too bad yourself, Ray, she said. It must be the stress. That’s all I’m exposed to. Instead of making me look older, it’s doing the opposite.

You are absolutely correct! I said. That’s all I have going on too. Life’s challenges are insurmountable, it seems.

Then we will stay forever young, my friend, she chuckled.

Cherie still had the same phone number that I noted when we first met. Given that I had changed mine a few times, I gave her an updated number so that we could later converse about the typing requirements for my book. Much of our communication after that was over the telephone. I also took photos of documents that I needed her to recreate, and sent them to her. Hard copy correspondence that I had stored in file boxes, I handed over to her as well, and she transcribed them into digital format. All in all, her contribution provided me with the motivation and direction I needed to advance the work on my manuscript, and for that I am grateful.

And then, like a starkly familiar script, Cherie was overcome by her own life challenges. A motor vehicle accident along with the loss of her job made it difficult for her to continue assisting me. Oh well, I thought as I