Wenlido (short memoir) by Leanne Dyck

How does a rural gal adjust to life in an intimidating big city? My solution...

When in your life did you feel the strongest?

photo by ldyck

 

 Wenlido

I graduated from high school and was eager to kick over the traces of my small town. My heart held no fear, only dreams of an exciting life. Winnipeg delivered. I attended university and met my husband and... I had many great adventures.

When I moved from Winnipeg (population 702,396) to Greater Vancouver (population 2,132,800), my confidence was shaken. Are the streets safe? What would I do if something happened? These questions haunted my sleepless nights.

Trying to calm my anxiety, I signed up for a women's self-defence course--Wenlido. The class was led by a capable and caring instructor. I learnt to de-escalate problems before they arose by initiating a conversation; aim for the knee caps, not the crotch; and how to break out of a wrist hold. The class culminated with the ultimate challenge--breaking a board with your hand. If I were successful, nothing could stop me. If I failed... If I failed, I could break my hand.

The instructor and my fellow participants cheered me on. "Come on, Leanne, you've got this. Slice that board in half. Visualize your hand sailing right through."

I swung my hand back and then forward. Down... Down... Down. Snap. The board broke. My hand didn't. 

photo by ldyck

I walked out of that class with my head held high. Whatever happened, I was ready.

written on December 13, 2005

photo by ldyck

On this blog in June...

Sunday, June 1

Floating Away (children's story)

...about sailing away on a bed boat...

Sunday, June 8

Children's Hospital (short memoir)

...about the day I was assessed as dyslexic

Sunday, June 15

Tying Laces with my Dad (short memoir)

 When I have trouble tying my shoelaces, my dad...

Sunday, June 22

Book Review for Indigenous Day

Two Tricksters Find Friendship by Johnny Aitken and Jess Willows

...is a year in the life of a new mutually supportive friendship between Jessie, a white girl, and Johnny, an Indigenous boy

Sunday, June 29

Book Reviews for Canada Day

Canadian Reads: a collection of my favourite books by Canadian authors

photo by ldyck

Without a reader,

A writer's words mean

Nothing

Learn more...

Ethan's Ferry Trip (children's story) by Leanne Dyck

 Ethan’s Ferry Trip introduces children to the joys of travelling by ferry.

 photo by ldyck

Ethan’s Ferry Trip

Mom drove our car onto the big boat. She called it a ferry. We climbed stairs up to a room full of people, but I didn’t know anyone. I sat right beside a window and felt the ferry move.

Mom said, “We’re sailing away.”

I waved goodbye to the trucks, cars and buildings.

The ocean stretched on and on and on.

A man I couldn’t see said, “Look outside”—or something. His words crackled from a box over our heads.

"That was the Captain," Mom explained, “He sails the ferry and wants us to look over there.” She pointed out the window. “Whales!”

Everyone crowded around our bench. They all talked about the whales. But all I could see was water shooting into the air.

A girl with red hair said, “My name’s Salal. Want to play?”

We played cat and dog. Salal crawled around saying, “Meow.” I crawled after her, saying, “Woof. Woof. Woof.” And we played hide-and-seek. Salal was so good at hiding that I needed Mom’s help. We found Salal under her mom’s bench.

My mom and Salal’s mom talked and talked and talked. Salal shared her books with me. I liked the one about the big trucks.

The ferry went thud.

"Mom, what was that?" I asked.

"Don't worry," she said, "The ferry docked. It’s time to get off.”

Mom helped me put my jacket back on. I helped Mom collect our stuff. We had toys for me, a book for Mom, a purse for Mom and a backpack for me.

Mom had to open the heavy door because I couldn't push it. Then, there were the stairs. I held onto the handrail and carefully climbed down. One step, two steps, three, all the way to the cars and trucks. Our car was hiding, so we had to look really hard to find it.

We climbed into the car and buckled our seat belts. Mom followed two trucks off the ferry and down the ramp.

I looked out the back window and waved goodbye. “Thank you, ferry,” I said. “Mom, that was really fun. I want to do it again.”

She smiled at me. “We will,” she said.

photo by ldyck

On this blog in May

Sunday, May 25

Wenlido (memoir)

Intimidated by the thought of moving from Winnipeg to the heavily populated city of Vancouver, I...

photo by ldyck

Without a reader,

A writer's words mean

Nothing

Two Tricksters' Book Launch...

Mom (a story collection) by Leanne Dyck

A collection of short stories and poems to celebrate Mom and strategies for coping with childlessness.

photo by a nurse (I'm guessing)

'Dad, Mom and me (I'm five days old)'

From Mom

A poem and a short story that helped me cope with the death of my mom

A Spark

A short story about the sticks and string that tied me to my mother

Mother, May I

A poem in celebration of childhood, motherhood, and elderhood

Eve's Other Children

This short story was inspired by Icelandic folklore

The Calling

A short story about a young mom

It was Nothing

This short story views the relationship between mothers and children in terms of childhood anxiety and trauma. 

How to cope with not being a mother

Recommended Strategy...

The Pitter-patter of Little Feet

Picture Book Author Q & A

Not Recommended...

Annie

photo by ldyck

On this blog in May

Sunday, May 18

Children's Story: Ethan's Ferry Trip

Ethan travels on a ferry for the first time, and he...

Sunday, May 25

Memoir: Wenlido

Intimidated by the thought of moving from Winnipeg to the heavily populated city of Vancouver, I...

photo by ldyck

Without a reader,

A writer's words mean

Nothing

About the photo...

Book Review: All the Little Monsters by David A. Robertson (memoir)

builds community and leads the way to healing. I highly recommend this book to all those who want to learn how to live with anxiety.

photo by ldyck

I usually share my writing on this blog, but I need to add to that list today. This book is too important not to share. 

I live with anxiety caused by trying to fit my round peg dyslexic self into this square peg world--and other stressors. And I have begun therapy for PTSD. Through the words David Robertson offers in this book, he has helped to make my journey easier--helping to level some mountains that I am climbing. For example, he taught me to see myself not as weak but as sick. That change might seem slight, but it was empowering for me--if I'm sick, I can seek help to heal. It is not a flaw within me, but something I am experiencing.

As Shelagh Rogers writes in the Foreword: 'The book you are holding is a treasure. David Robertson..is wide open, unflinchingly honest, and brave...' He genuinely cares about people and aims to create a supportive community for those who struggle with mental illness. And to that end, he shares strategies such as 'speak louder than [anxiety] can to change the way you see yourself and the world around you.' (p. 18) He shares a healing mindset: 'There's no place for judgment anywhere in the world of mental health, not towards yourself, and not towards others. I have come to learn that kindness, above all else, is the most productive thing.' (p. 19) He stresses that kindness, understanding, and empathy are tools of healing. 

In the final chapter of All the Little Monsters, David Robertson writes: 'I want you to feel comfortable, even if a lot of this can be uncomfortable. I want you to feel as if we've sat together and I've told you a story in person, sitting across from one another, face to face.' He has succeeded in this goal. Reading this book is like talking to a friend who has jumped into the hole you have fallen into and is showing you the way out.

All the Little Monsters: How I Learned to Live with Anxiety

David A. Robertson

(memoir)

HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

2025

photo by ldyck

On this blog in May

Sunday, May 11

Memoir: Tips

Once upon a time, I was asked to help serve tables at a country inn and I...

Sunday, May 18

Children's Story: Ethan's Ferry Trip

For the first time, Ethan travels with his mother on a ferry, and he...

Sunday, May 25

Memoir: Wenlido

Intimidated by the thought of moving from Winnipeg to the heavily populated city of Vancouver, I...

photo by ldyck

A thoughtful friend gave me a bouquet of lilacs last Thursday. Lilac bushes framed the backyard of my childhood home, and their scent now fills my home, conjuring images of happy moments from my childhood—a balm for this healing time.