Do you ever hear yourself thinking, feeling and saying things you know you have thought, felt and said before and wonder how in the world this new circumstance feels so similar to a past event even though it couldn't be further from where you once were?
If your answer is "no", read no further. This post is not for you. If your answer is "yes", feel free to read on. I may or may not reveal important truths in the paragraphs to come. My fingers haven't written what my brain has figured out yet. I may or may not be in for some surprises myself.
I typed the words my inner self has been feeling into a Google search box this morning. I've been here before. How could something so dissimilar feel the same? I set the words free. Revised them to suit my particular situation better. I searched once again. It was only then, when I finally read the words I was meant to see.
I have been feeling very emotional about a situation lately. In order to manage my own thoughts, I have been talking. I usually hear my answers when I set my words free and hear them outside my head.
I kept hearing other people's words instead. Disbelief. Suggestions. Direction. It sounded simple. Just do "this" or "that" or "the other thing". I kept revising my story in an attempt to reveal the other side of the story. The answer isn't that simple, I would respond time and time again.
I finally heard part of my truth when I started thinking "By not saying anything, I am perpetuating the behaviour that is breaking my soul". I knew I had to come up with a tactic to stop or divert the energy I have been absorbing and turn it around.
Then the day unfolded. I felt powerless. I felt weak. I felt defeated. How can I keep going back into the arena when I don't have a means of defense in place?
I feel like Rocky Balboa. I keep standing up. I keep going back. I feel bruised and battered but I warrior on.
My opponent is waging their own battle. I thought and continue to think that their ability to stand up and go back into the arena is quite possibly harder than the battle I'm having. They are very likely feeling as powerless and defeated as I am, thus they are waging the war of their lifetime.
No one can know what another person is going through. I try. Oh, how I try. I try to put myself in their shoes. I try to borrow the shoes of another fearless warrior and put what I have learned and I try harder.
I tried. I know enough to not fan the flame. I cannot make it worse. But I cannot continue down this path.
This morning, I searched the words that were in my heart. I didn't find an answer. The only thing I found was a revised perspective.
These words: "Rather than interpret this as personal, try to see them for what it is — signs of unbearable suffering."
That is exactly what I was feeling. I was trying my darndest not to take it personally and had been doing okay with that until recently. "Unbearable suffering" ...
This is definitely a post I must walk away from before I hit the "Publish" button. I don't have the whole story. I still don't have a plan. I just hope I have the strength to reroute whatever may come my way today with a renewed perspective and a different vocabulary running through my thoughts.
Friday, May 31, 2019
Thursday, May 30, 2019
An Unexpected Moment
Mother Nature offered up another "be still and soak up the moment" opportunity yesterday. This moment was watching one of my favorite animals that is allowed to roam the city streets. A rabbit sighting.
Yesterday's rabbit didn't hop off in a straight line as most of my sightings go. Usually, once I spot a rabbit the most I can hope for is that it either stays where it is resting or doesn't run off. I can't remember a time when a rabbit didn't simply run off in a relatively straight line. Yesterday was different.
Yesterday's rabbit was first spotted enjoying the newly planted flower garden outside my aunt's deck area. So I shall henceforth dub this rabbit "Flower". My aunt knows how much I enjoy rabbit watching so she pointed out Flower's existence. From that point on, we simply sat back and watched.
"Flower" heard something and hopped off. As a rule, the rabbits head off in one direction and simply take the next forward hop. Not yesterday. Flower stopped, sat back on its haunches, turned around and was on full alert. The next thing we knew, Flower headed back in the direction she came from. Stopped. Stood up on her back two feet, ears were perked up and Flower was listening. She was almost out of sight but her fully alert ears were still visible. Then she headed back where we could see her better, tucked back her ears and if we had not been watching her we would have been certain she was a rock.
I begged her to come a little closer so we could watch her. I think she understood me because after a brief rest, she inched a little closer to where we were and stopped again.
There were momentary stops but Flower zigged and zagged a few more times before she headed off in a northern direction and hopped out of sight. The robin that was in the area was completely unfazed by the rabbit's existence, instinctively knowing it was not in danger (how do birds know rabbits are vegetarians?).
My brain was void of all previous thoughts as we sat back and took in the moment. I was lost in the act of rabbit-watching and nothing else mattered. The birds, the rabbits, the spiders and all the little miracles of nature remind me of gazing into the vastness of the ocean hoping to spot a whale while on a cruise many years ago.
Watching a spider build a web. A rabbit sighting that was more than a passing hop. Sitting back and watching the birds ...
We crave vacations, time away, moments in the sun to take us away from the daily grind of living our regularly scheduled life. Yet if you have the chance to be still and soak up the moment you are in, prepare to be amazed. What you are looking for may be in your own back yard (or in my case, my aunt's).
Yesterday's rabbit didn't hop off in a straight line as most of my sightings go. Usually, once I spot a rabbit the most I can hope for is that it either stays where it is resting or doesn't run off. I can't remember a time when a rabbit didn't simply run off in a relatively straight line. Yesterday was different.
Yesterday's rabbit was first spotted enjoying the newly planted flower garden outside my aunt's deck area. So I shall henceforth dub this rabbit "Flower". My aunt knows how much I enjoy rabbit watching so she pointed out Flower's existence. From that point on, we simply sat back and watched.
"Flower" heard something and hopped off. As a rule, the rabbits head off in one direction and simply take the next forward hop. Not yesterday. Flower stopped, sat back on its haunches, turned around and was on full alert. The next thing we knew, Flower headed back in the direction she came from. Stopped. Stood up on her back two feet, ears were perked up and Flower was listening. She was almost out of sight but her fully alert ears were still visible. Then she headed back where we could see her better, tucked back her ears and if we had not been watching her we would have been certain she was a rock.
I begged her to come a little closer so we could watch her. I think she understood me because after a brief rest, she inched a little closer to where we were and stopped again.
There were momentary stops but Flower zigged and zagged a few more times before she headed off in a northern direction and hopped out of sight. The robin that was in the area was completely unfazed by the rabbit's existence, instinctively knowing it was not in danger (how do birds know rabbits are vegetarians?).
My brain was void of all previous thoughts as we sat back and took in the moment. I was lost in the act of rabbit-watching and nothing else mattered. The birds, the rabbits, the spiders and all the little miracles of nature remind me of gazing into the vastness of the ocean hoping to spot a whale while on a cruise many years ago.
Watching a spider build a web. A rabbit sighting that was more than a passing hop. Sitting back and watching the birds ...
We crave vacations, time away, moments in the sun to take us away from the daily grind of living our regularly scheduled life. Yet if you have the chance to be still and soak up the moment you are in, prepare to be amazed. What you are looking for may be in your own back yard (or in my case, my aunt's).
Wednesday, May 29, 2019
Practising the Pause
I received an after hours text last night. While my initial reaction was to respond immediately, I thought "Wait until you get home ...". I got home and decided that "Wait until tomorrow" was the best response.
I had an important conversation yesterday. While my initial reaction was to try to offer up a solution, I simply responded, "We need to keep talking..." in the moment I was in. I woke up this morning with a possible option in mind but again talked myself down. "Think about this first ..." and see what alternatives crop up.
I felt a little angsty about both of these moments where the best answer was no answer. I must listen to that anxiety that lies beneath the surface. It is telling me something.
I wasn't sure what to write next so I walked away and made my lunch. New, fresh and less in-the-moment thoughts came to me.
At times when I've been looking for a lost item, I have found if I stop, walk away and distance myself from the cycle of looking-where-I-have-already-looked, it freshens my perspective. When I return, I have new ideas of where else I could be looking. It doesn't always work but it has worked enough times to remind me this is a good strategy.
I have many hitting-a-wall moments in my numbers work. The best thing I can do is to walk away and take myself out of the cycle of thinking-the-same-thoughts and doing the same thing over and over again, hoping to come up with the answer. Definition of insanity? All the above. My solution at times like this? This could be a good time to look for that item I couldn't find earlier.
Before hitting the "send" button on a text or email ... before hastily dialing a phone while purely in a "reaction" mode, it is best to pause first. Do I do this all of the time? Anyone who has read text messages my phone has auto-corrected can vouch that I do not. When a message is of a delicate or important nature, I try ...
When I have been hurt by words that someone has said, I try not to add fuel to the fire by reacting in kind. I say very little to nothing in those moments. But my thoughts fester when I cannot react. In the moment or after the fact. Pausing is okay. Stifling one's thoughts in the hope that there won't be a repeat offence takes me back to my days of being married. By not taking a stand, my actions were misunderstood as acceptance and I laid the groundwork for the scenario to replay time and time again.
While I am practising "pausing before reacting", I must remember action without the fuel of emotions guiding me is the ultimate goal. Inaction is different than pausing.
They say to take a deep breath and think before reacting in emotionally fuelled situations. Pause before taking action. But don't forget to act.
I had an important conversation yesterday. While my initial reaction was to try to offer up a solution, I simply responded, "We need to keep talking..." in the moment I was in. I woke up this morning with a possible option in mind but again talked myself down. "Think about this first ..." and see what alternatives crop up.
I felt a little angsty about both of these moments where the best answer was no answer. I must listen to that anxiety that lies beneath the surface. It is telling me something.
I wasn't sure what to write next so I walked away and made my lunch. New, fresh and less in-the-moment thoughts came to me.
At times when I've been looking for a lost item, I have found if I stop, walk away and distance myself from the cycle of looking-where-I-have-already-looked, it freshens my perspective. When I return, I have new ideas of where else I could be looking. It doesn't always work but it has worked enough times to remind me this is a good strategy.
I have many hitting-a-wall moments in my numbers work. The best thing I can do is to walk away and take myself out of the cycle of thinking-the-same-thoughts and doing the same thing over and over again, hoping to come up with the answer. Definition of insanity? All the above. My solution at times like this? This could be a good time to look for that item I couldn't find earlier.
Before hitting the "send" button on a text or email ... before hastily dialing a phone while purely in a "reaction" mode, it is best to pause first. Do I do this all of the time? Anyone who has read text messages my phone has auto-corrected can vouch that I do not. When a message is of a delicate or important nature, I try ...
When I have been hurt by words that someone has said, I try not to add fuel to the fire by reacting in kind. I say very little to nothing in those moments. But my thoughts fester when I cannot react. In the moment or after the fact. Pausing is okay. Stifling one's thoughts in the hope that there won't be a repeat offence takes me back to my days of being married. By not taking a stand, my actions were misunderstood as acceptance and I laid the groundwork for the scenario to replay time and time again.
While I am practising "pausing before reacting", I must remember action without the fuel of emotions guiding me is the ultimate goal. Inaction is different than pausing.
They say to take a deep breath and think before reacting in emotionally fuelled situations. Pause before taking action. But don't forget to act.
Tuesday, May 28, 2019
Charlotte's Web
The miracle of nature unfolded before our very eyes yesterday. It was a wonder to behold as we marvelled over the instinctive nature of the world around us.
My aunt and I were enjoying the beautiful day on the deck outside her apartment when I noticed a spider spinning a web from her upstairs neighbor's deck onto a planter on my aunt's deck railing. After we followed the spider making its way down, we watched it go back up again. Then down. Then up. Then down and across and up again. This busy little spider did this several times and then started skittering around the webs it had created.
"I think it's making a web!" I squealed in delight. We couldn't see the web from the deck but I stepped outside the deck onto the grass and could make it out. I am almost certain that industrious little spider created this web in its entirety while my aunt and I watched.
It never stopped. It went up, down, up, down, up and sideways, down and back; then around and around and around until its masterpiece was complete. Then it rested. It was still sleeping soundly in its web when I left.
You can't see the web in this video but this is when the spider was going around and around in its final laps of its construction.
You can just barely make out the web here. If you look upwards, you can barely see the contrast of the light threads of the web against the brown part of the balcony above.
I felt a kinship towards this busy little spider and named her "Charlotte", as she went about her business, building a web. Then patiently awaited the arrival nature's version of a SkiptheDishes delivery.
I stood and marvelled at the design, construction and end result of this spider's work. How did it map out where to brace its web as it spun its way to the next bracing point on the web? It is one thing to go "down", but to find its way across to the wind spinner that was hanging from the deck above? How does a spider defy gravity and spin a web in a horizontal position? Does it instinctively pace out the distance between braces? Does it plan ahead or does it just start spinning? And its ability to produce the required amount of "webbing" on demand?! Nature is amazing.
Watching a spider build a web. Rabbit spotting. Watching a crow watch our cat who was perched atop the play structure so he could watch birds in the neighbor's tree...
Ray (the cat atop the play structure) is watching the birds ... outside of this picture frame is a crow (perhaps it was a raven - it was at least as big as Ray), sitting in another neighbor's tree watching Ray. The circle of life (I'm glad they were all just "watching" and no one was harmed in the making of these memories).
Can I imagine a life where I have the time, desire and opportunity to watch nature reveal its miracles right before my eyes? I can sure try ...
Monday, May 27, 2019
The Most Important Thing ...
The book "Half Broke Horses" by Jeannette Walls was filled with wisdom which spoke to me. If only I had a memory, I would remember these quotes and incorporate them into my daily conversation. Instead, I shall write a little blog about some quotable quotes about falling...
"The most important thing in life is learning how to fall." ~ Jeannette Walls, Half Broke Horses
The main character within this book grows up on a ranch and breaking horses is one of the many skills she learns. She is a formidable character and doesn't turn her back on hard things. She just does them because someone has to.
In the course of breaking horses, one must fall. Time and time again. The main character within the story broke her arm during one such fall and her father doesn't molly coddle her after her fall.
"When someone's wounded, the first order of business is to stop the bleeding. You can figure out later how best to help them heal." ~ Jeannette Walls, Half Broke Horses
Then, he teaches her the proper way to fall. You were too tense. The secret to falling is to just go limp ...
He has more advice but I tuned into my own experience after I read this sentence. I substituted the word "fail" instead of "fall" and I immediately knew her father was teaching his daughter more than how to fall off a horse.
When a person falls (or fails) in life, the worst thing you can do is to go all tense. If you can relax, go limp and just go with the fall (or fail), you will fare much better.
"The dangerous falls were the ones that happened so fast you didn't have time to react." ~ Jeannette Walls, Half Broke Horses
My life quickly rewound to the failed moments within my life. I tense up. I stop thinking. I stop breathing. I stop rationalizing. My immediate reaction is paralysis mixed with a dose of terror, anger and/or regret. I have noticed that it is not until I walk away, remove myself from the scene of the "failure" (or fall), I can feel the pressure subside, my shoulders relax and my answers start to come to me.
The most important thing in life is learning how to fall. To fall in a manner in which you can pick yourself up, brush yourself off and carry on the best way you are capable of moving forward is best achieved by relaxing and just going with the fall.
"The most important thing in life is learning how to fall." ~ Jeannette Walls, Half Broke Horses
The main character within this book grows up on a ranch and breaking horses is one of the many skills she learns. She is a formidable character and doesn't turn her back on hard things. She just does them because someone has to.
In the course of breaking horses, one must fall. Time and time again. The main character within the story broke her arm during one such fall and her father doesn't molly coddle her after her fall.
"When someone's wounded, the first order of business is to stop the bleeding. You can figure out later how best to help them heal." ~ Jeannette Walls, Half Broke Horses
Then, he teaches her the proper way to fall. You were too tense. The secret to falling is to just go limp ...
He has more advice but I tuned into my own experience after I read this sentence. I substituted the word "fail" instead of "fall" and I immediately knew her father was teaching his daughter more than how to fall off a horse.
When a person falls (or fails) in life, the worst thing you can do is to go all tense. If you can relax, go limp and just go with the fall (or fail), you will fare much better.
"The dangerous falls were the ones that happened so fast you didn't have time to react." ~ Jeannette Walls, Half Broke Horses
My life quickly rewound to the failed moments within my life. I tense up. I stop thinking. I stop breathing. I stop rationalizing. My immediate reaction is paralysis mixed with a dose of terror, anger and/or regret. I have noticed that it is not until I walk away, remove myself from the scene of the "failure" (or fall), I can feel the pressure subside, my shoulders relax and my answers start to come to me.
The most important thing in life is learning how to fall. To fall in a manner in which you can pick yourself up, brush yourself off and carry on the best way you are capable of moving forward is best achieved by relaxing and just going with the fall.
Show Me the Bunny!
I was walking down our street this morning hoping for a late morning rabbit sighting of the two rabbits I spotted a few mornings ago.
The timing was wrong but I had an idea of where at least one of them likes to hang out. I gazed long and hard into an overgrown shrub in a neighbor's yard, hoping to spot some movement.
I gazed down the back alley where they seem to go next after their morning stop over in our part of the neighborhood.
Nothing.
Suddenly I heard my thoughts chanting "Show me the bunny" in a Jerry Maguire kind of way. Show. Me. The. Bunny!!
 |
| Can you spot two rabbits in the above photo? Squint real hard. They ARE there ... |
And our two neighbor rabbits shall henceforth be dubbed "Jerry" and "Maguire" in my mind.
She is Within Me ...
"I miss missing you ..." These were the words I was feeling as I walked into the weekend. Feeling the acuteness of emotion after my sister's most recent visit, I thought of Mom which resulted in a fleeting "I miss missing you" moment.
The connection our family shares is a gift like no other. It is a gift I hope to pass along to my family. It is a gift I see within my sibling's families. It is so poignant at times, it leaves me breathless.
I felt myself stop and think to myself, "Mom, are you here?"
The day gained momentum and moved on but the feeling remained. I woke up Saturday morning and simply thought to myself "I miss missing Mom ...". Then I spotted two rabbits in our neighbor's "rabbit garden". An overgrown area in my neighbor's yard seems to attract rabbits - I would like to grow a garden such as this. Rabbits make me think of time spent with Mom.
I felt a feeling of missing Mom wash over and through me, then went to my library of Mom's books. I felt the strong urge to simply lose myself in a book I didn't want to put down. A lot of Mom's books are biographies, non-fiction, historical and basically educational. I wanted something to grab my interest and hold me still. I found the book "Half Broke Horses" by Jeannette Walls. She had me at "Those old cows knew trouble was coming before we did ..." - the very first sentence of her book.
A piece of paper wafted to the ground when I opened the book. Mom's writing. Simply the words "certificate" and "diploma". I created a story in my mind behind the words she wrote. Mom questioned everything she didn't understand. She was wondering ...
I kept Mom's scrap of paper as my bookmark. It was comforting to think she had read the pages I was about to read. There is something about opening a book and feeling her presence that is akin to the breathlessness poignancy I have felt after separating myself from my siblings. I just breathed in the moment, was grateful for the sensation of Mom's presence and savored the story within the pages of the book.
The next morning, I was eager to reread "The Glass Castle", also by Jeannette Walls. I had bought this book myself and offered to give it to Mom but she said she already had it. "Half Broke Horses" was the story before the story which was told in "The Glass Castle". I sat down with a renewed appreciation of the book, knowing the history which preceded it.
I turned a page and found crumbs within the book. Pretty good chance they were crumbs from something Mom was eating as she read the book. A fair chance that they may have been cookie crumbs. Mom enjoyed her cookies once upon a lifetime ago ...
Another heart swelling moment as I replayed the thought of Mom reading the exact pages at a different time and place. There was a slight time warp sensation as I envisioned Mom within me, me within Mom and the connection of the book I was holding.
I have noticed myself feeling this way when I butter toast. I have a crystal clear memory of the way Mom buttered toast. Her goal was to take enough margarine the first time, so she didn't end up with toast crumbs in her margarine container. She meticulously buttered her toast to the crust. I feel me in her/her in me when I watch myself do exactly the same motion. Suddenly, I am standing at her kitchen island, reliving the many times I watched her care and precision as she buttered her toast.
In these moments, I feel like I'm in a space-time continuum. I'm on this plane over here; Mom is on her plane sometime in the past; and neither one of us are here nor there at the same time anymore. But we are still connected.
She is within me, I was within her. I miss missing her ... but I'm grateful to still feel her so strongly at times.
The connection our family shares is a gift like no other. It is a gift I hope to pass along to my family. It is a gift I see within my sibling's families. It is so poignant at times, it leaves me breathless.
I felt myself stop and think to myself, "Mom, are you here?"
The day gained momentum and moved on but the feeling remained. I woke up Saturday morning and simply thought to myself "I miss missing Mom ...". Then I spotted two rabbits in our neighbor's "rabbit garden". An overgrown area in my neighbor's yard seems to attract rabbits - I would like to grow a garden such as this. Rabbits make me think of time spent with Mom.
I felt a feeling of missing Mom wash over and through me, then went to my library of Mom's books. I felt the strong urge to simply lose myself in a book I didn't want to put down. A lot of Mom's books are biographies, non-fiction, historical and basically educational. I wanted something to grab my interest and hold me still. I found the book "Half Broke Horses" by Jeannette Walls. She had me at "Those old cows knew trouble was coming before we did ..." - the very first sentence of her book.
A piece of paper wafted to the ground when I opened the book. Mom's writing. Simply the words "certificate" and "diploma". I created a story in my mind behind the words she wrote. Mom questioned everything she didn't understand. She was wondering ...
I kept Mom's scrap of paper as my bookmark. It was comforting to think she had read the pages I was about to read. There is something about opening a book and feeling her presence that is akin to the breathlessness poignancy I have felt after separating myself from my siblings. I just breathed in the moment, was grateful for the sensation of Mom's presence and savored the story within the pages of the book.
The next morning, I was eager to reread "The Glass Castle", also by Jeannette Walls. I had bought this book myself and offered to give it to Mom but she said she already had it. "Half Broke Horses" was the story before the story which was told in "The Glass Castle". I sat down with a renewed appreciation of the book, knowing the history which preceded it.
I turned a page and found crumbs within the book. Pretty good chance they were crumbs from something Mom was eating as she read the book. A fair chance that they may have been cookie crumbs. Mom enjoyed her cookies once upon a lifetime ago ...
Another heart swelling moment as I replayed the thought of Mom reading the exact pages at a different time and place. There was a slight time warp sensation as I envisioned Mom within me, me within Mom and the connection of the book I was holding.
I have noticed myself feeling this way when I butter toast. I have a crystal clear memory of the way Mom buttered toast. Her goal was to take enough margarine the first time, so she didn't end up with toast crumbs in her margarine container. She meticulously buttered her toast to the crust. I feel me in her/her in me when I watch myself do exactly the same motion. Suddenly, I am standing at her kitchen island, reliving the many times I watched her care and precision as she buttered her toast.
In these moments, I feel like I'm in a space-time continuum. I'm on this plane over here; Mom is on her plane sometime in the past; and neither one of us are here nor there at the same time anymore. But we are still connected.
She is within me, I was within her. I miss missing her ... but I'm grateful to still feel her so strongly at times.
Turning Down the Connections
I attempted to take a mini-break from technology this past weekend so my promise (to myself) to blog regularly suffered in the wake of my weekend off. Nothing stopped me from grabbing a pen and paper to write regardless of my Internet disconnection, except for a lack of words. Writing without purpose is equivalent to speaking when you have nothing to say. Perhaps I should take a break more often.
Instead of wasting a day on the computer, I opened a book. Actually two books. I read. All day. It was wonderful. I think I need to do this more regularly, to regain a longer attention span. The computer, the Internet, social media and the instant communication devices we have in our possession these days have resulted in my attention span being equivalent to that of a gnat. My thoughts flit, flop and fly away. I can't hold onto what I was thinking a moment ago and little things are escaping me on a regular basis. Something has to change.
Reading is more time consuming than playing on the computer but I believe it is a better investment of time. Yes, I could (and did) put my book down at any point of the day but I was reading a book that completely captivated my interest and I had no desire leave the story that was unfolding before me.
My enjoyment of the day I was living resulted in me turning down an invitation I had time to over-think. I know I should have accepted the invitation for what it was and simply showed up. The more I lost myself in my day, my book and the moment I was in, the less desire I had to pry myself out of the house and interject myself in an uncomfortable social setting. I took the easy way out. I backed myself out of the commitment and stayed home.
I much prefer my invitations to be of the "Want to meet for lunch in half an hour?" variety. Which I received on the second day of the weekend.
As much as I was enjoying my second book, I hesitated but a moment to get dressed and join the day in progress. No time to over-think. No time to even think. Just go with the moment. It is my favorite way to go.
This was followed by another small request which was just as easy to say "yes". "I'm on my way over, would you mind if I came for supper ...". The mantra "If I cook it, they will come" ran through my thoughts as I easily said "yes" and turned the oven a little higher to speed up the cooking process.
My guest had one final request - a cup of coffee. Caffeinated. Who am I to let someone caffeinate on their own!? So I had a jolt of energy late in the day which resulted in the ambition, motivation and desire to mow the lawn once I was home alone again.
I didn't quite turn "off" my technological devices. I simply turned them down. I sat still with my thoughts and in the aftermath of the weekend I do have a few words which have accumulated in my word bank. I'll be back ...
Instead of wasting a day on the computer, I opened a book. Actually two books. I read. All day. It was wonderful. I think I need to do this more regularly, to regain a longer attention span. The computer, the Internet, social media and the instant communication devices we have in our possession these days have resulted in my attention span being equivalent to that of a gnat. My thoughts flit, flop and fly away. I can't hold onto what I was thinking a moment ago and little things are escaping me on a regular basis. Something has to change.
Reading is more time consuming than playing on the computer but I believe it is a better investment of time. Yes, I could (and did) put my book down at any point of the day but I was reading a book that completely captivated my interest and I had no desire leave the story that was unfolding before me.
My enjoyment of the day I was living resulted in me turning down an invitation I had time to over-think. I know I should have accepted the invitation for what it was and simply showed up. The more I lost myself in my day, my book and the moment I was in, the less desire I had to pry myself out of the house and interject myself in an uncomfortable social setting. I took the easy way out. I backed myself out of the commitment and stayed home.
I much prefer my invitations to be of the "Want to meet for lunch in half an hour?" variety. Which I received on the second day of the weekend.
As much as I was enjoying my second book, I hesitated but a moment to get dressed and join the day in progress. No time to over-think. No time to even think. Just go with the moment. It is my favorite way to go.
This was followed by another small request which was just as easy to say "yes". "I'm on my way over, would you mind if I came for supper ...". The mantra "If I cook it, they will come" ran through my thoughts as I easily said "yes" and turned the oven a little higher to speed up the cooking process.
My guest had one final request - a cup of coffee. Caffeinated. Who am I to let someone caffeinate on their own!? So I had a jolt of energy late in the day which resulted in the ambition, motivation and desire to mow the lawn once I was home alone again.
I didn't quite turn "off" my technological devices. I simply turned them down. I sat still with my thoughts and in the aftermath of the weekend I do have a few words which have accumulated in my word bank. I'll be back ...
Saturday, May 25, 2019
Filled to Overflowing
Do you ever have those moments that are fleeting but in the millisecond that you stop to breathe it in, it is like you are feeling the miracle of life? I get these flashes of clarity that feel bigger than life. Let me tell you about my last moment such as this ...
My sister invited me to go to Cher with her a while back. It took but a nanosecond for me to read and respond to this invitation. "Yes" was the only option that crossed my mind. Cher's concert was two nights ago.
My sister has had an occasion to sleep over here four times in the last seven weeks. She has a bed with her name on it. Anything I need to remember to give her is simply tossed onto "her" bed until the next time.
Our visits are quick, light, easy and always leave me feeling on top of the world. We decided to go out for breakfast in honor of our last sister sleepover for a while. As I was driving into Denny's parking lot, my heart simply swelled up with joy.
Each and every one of our visits has been great. Last night was the grand finale of them all. We shared a drink before supper then headed off to our evening's entertainment. The long line up moved quickly and when we got to the part where our tickets were scanned, my sister was told "Don't go anywhere", so she didn't. My ticket was scanned and we were told to go to the Ticket Exchange table to get better seats.
We felt like we had won a lottery until we found the table and back tracked to the end of another very long line. I guess we weren't so special after all. None-the-less we were still thrilled with the upgrade.
The feeling that I had won the lottery stayed with me all night. My sister is joyful, says "yes" to life's invitations, loves the moment she is in, adores her family, honors her friends, she works as hard as she plays and it simply feels good to be in her presence.
We shared a drink and conversation when we got home from seeing Cher, woke up and continued the conversation over a cup of coffee, then drove to Denny's where we would complete that conversation over breakfast.
Driving into Denny's parking lot, my heart filled to overflowing. I was loving the moment I was in, grateful for all the visits we've had and looking forward to when our lives intersect again.
The connection within our family is a gift I cherish like no other. It fills me up, makes me whole and calms my soul. I am grateful. I am so very grateful.
My sister invited me to go to Cher with her a while back. It took but a nanosecond for me to read and respond to this invitation. "Yes" was the only option that crossed my mind. Cher's concert was two nights ago.
My sister has had an occasion to sleep over here four times in the last seven weeks. She has a bed with her name on it. Anything I need to remember to give her is simply tossed onto "her" bed until the next time.
Our visits are quick, light, easy and always leave me feeling on top of the world. We decided to go out for breakfast in honor of our last sister sleepover for a while. As I was driving into Denny's parking lot, my heart simply swelled up with joy.
Each and every one of our visits has been great. Last night was the grand finale of them all. We shared a drink before supper then headed off to our evening's entertainment. The long line up moved quickly and when we got to the part where our tickets were scanned, my sister was told "Don't go anywhere", so she didn't. My ticket was scanned and we were told to go to the Ticket Exchange table to get better seats.
We felt like we had won a lottery until we found the table and back tracked to the end of another very long line. I guess we weren't so special after all. None-the-less we were still thrilled with the upgrade.
The feeling that I had won the lottery stayed with me all night. My sister is joyful, says "yes" to life's invitations, loves the moment she is in, adores her family, honors her friends, she works as hard as she plays and it simply feels good to be in her presence.
We shared a drink and conversation when we got home from seeing Cher, woke up and continued the conversation over a cup of coffee, then drove to Denny's where we would complete that conversation over breakfast.
Driving into Denny's parking lot, my heart filled to overflowing. I was loving the moment I was in, grateful for all the visits we've had and looking forward to when our lives intersect again.
The connection within our family is a gift I cherish like no other. It fills me up, makes me whole and calms my soul. I am grateful. I am so very grateful.
Thursday, May 23, 2019
The Gift of an Unremarkable Life
Wow! That is all I can think to say. When we wake up to a day, knowing our body, mind and soul connections are all intact, life is good.
I spend my days with seniors. Yesterday had some particularly poignant "senior moments".
How does it feel to be living within a body that is wearing out? When one's mind is keen but the body begins to fail, it must be a hard thing for the mind to reconcile.
How does it feel to live within a body that is weathering the years pretty well but the mind begins to fail? Memories from long ago remain but what happened a few minutes ago is lost. The awareness of the loss of those short term memories and impending loss of independence must be hard for a failing mind to take in.
How does it feel to make plans to be with a life long friend for an upcoming date but that friend dies before you make it out to see them? You do all the right things, you keep in touch with people who are part of your life, but life and death happens. You must learn to follow your instincts, to follow through with hope but be prepared for anything.
The truth of the matter is that any of the above could happen to any one of us at any time. No one is immune to the wear and tear of a body, an unexpected accident, a brain injury or the certainty that tomorrow will unfold in the manner in which we expect.
As I live my quiet little repetitive life, I hope I never ever forget to be grateful for each day that unfolds much like the day that preceded it. Minor inconveniences, mood swings and unexpected twists and turns are much like the weather. Life happens and there is little one can do to control the outcome of the "big stuff". We just need to remind ourselves to be grateful for an unremarkable day.
By "ourselves", I mean "me". I have had some pretty minor inconveniences taking up space in my brain lately. I feel pretty fortunate to have what I have. For as long as I get to hold onto "this", I shall come back to this thought and remind myself of the options. As my wise mom once said, "Things are never so bad that they couldn't be worse".
Life is good. It is very, very good. Things are never so good that they couldn't be better is the flip side of Mom's quote. So I will just keep my eye on the present day and accept it for what it is. A gift.
I spend my days with seniors. Yesterday had some particularly poignant "senior moments".
How does it feel to be living within a body that is wearing out? When one's mind is keen but the body begins to fail, it must be a hard thing for the mind to reconcile.
How does it feel to live within a body that is weathering the years pretty well but the mind begins to fail? Memories from long ago remain but what happened a few minutes ago is lost. The awareness of the loss of those short term memories and impending loss of independence must be hard for a failing mind to take in.
How does it feel to make plans to be with a life long friend for an upcoming date but that friend dies before you make it out to see them? You do all the right things, you keep in touch with people who are part of your life, but life and death happens. You must learn to follow your instincts, to follow through with hope but be prepared for anything.
The truth of the matter is that any of the above could happen to any one of us at any time. No one is immune to the wear and tear of a body, an unexpected accident, a brain injury or the certainty that tomorrow will unfold in the manner in which we expect.
As I live my quiet little repetitive life, I hope I never ever forget to be grateful for each day that unfolds much like the day that preceded it. Minor inconveniences, mood swings and unexpected twists and turns are much like the weather. Life happens and there is little one can do to control the outcome of the "big stuff". We just need to remind ourselves to be grateful for an unremarkable day.
By "ourselves", I mean "me". I have had some pretty minor inconveniences taking up space in my brain lately. I feel pretty fortunate to have what I have. For as long as I get to hold onto "this", I shall come back to this thought and remind myself of the options. As my wise mom once said, "Things are never so bad that they couldn't be worse".
Life is good. It is very, very good. Things are never so good that they couldn't be better is the flip side of Mom's quote. So I will just keep my eye on the present day and accept it for what it is. A gift.
Wednesday, May 22, 2019
A Super Soul Summer Lineup
The sun is shining, the cats are content, the roof is freshly shingled and I'm crossing the hard stuff off my eternal things-to-get-done list. Life is good.
My hard things are pretty easy. They are simply time consuming, take up space in my brain and weigh me down. Things like getting my hair cut, getting an oil change, picking up a prescription, coloring my hair, washing sheets and getting groceries. They are simple little tasks that are nice to have behind me before the weekend arrives.
It is Wednesday - a very good day to start tackling the pre-weekend errands. My ambition is being spurred on, due to the fact that my sister is arriving tomorrow so we can go to see Cher [insert great joy and excitement here]!
This Thursday night adventure came with the stress of asking for a day off each of my jobs. Which, once my requests were granted, quickly transformed into the anticipation of knowing I get one evening and one day off this week.
I am having a hard time pushing myself out of my comfort zone these days. I have notations and mental lists of invitations I should issue but I haven't acted on any of them.
"Family" is filling my need for company and spontaneity. There is little that makes me happier than my son showing up on our doorstep with nothing more than a cup of coffee and a visit on his agenda. It is a bonus when he offers up his handyman services but I am quite content with coffee and conversation.
My siblings will soon be busy with their summer schedules but this spring has brought several opportunities for us to get together. In fact, one of my sisters has staked claim on one of our beds and said, "Don't wash the sheets yet - I'll be back!". I told her she should have picked a better bed if it was going to be hers, but I simply smile and think of my thoughts of Mom and "her room" here. I have a feeling there may soon be a "Donna's room" in our midst. When my finances recover from our outdoor maintenance expenses, I must attempt to make her room/bed more comfortable.
I have a short hiatus of fun-filled activities after Cher's concert but I am quite looking forward to the next item on this summers highlight reel of events. A few free weekends, followed by some outdoor maintenance (soffit, fascia, eavestroughs and downspouts) will wind up with a date with Oprah within the month.
Oprah is an out-of-town excursion and dare I say that I am quite looking forward to this? Oprah and her "Super Soul" events is part of a visit with a sister-friend with whom I share a Super Soul kind of connection.
The weekend following that, is yet another easy to look forward to occasion. I have been invited to see Johnny Reid at an outdoor concert with another friend who I share a unique, Super Soul kinship.
An out-of-town live theatre is next on the itinerary. My son knows someone who is in the play and the town is mid-way between here and my sister's. So it is possible we may meet up again.
The summer will wind up with another live performance in my sister's fine city, where we hope the sisters shall gather and see Mamma Mia.
A tentative October gathering-of-the-siblings is an idea that is brewing. We got together last year, after the busyness of summer was behind us and before winter settled in. This was the first time all four of us gathered in Mom's home territory since her house was sold. We rented an AirBnB and simply enjoyed being together under one roof, as a family. Something we thought may never happen after Mom's house was gone.
My calendar is sprinkled with events and gathering with people with whom I share a special "Super Soul Connection".
As my evening with Cher is on the horizon, I am revelling in my summer line-up of events. I will not go on any grand holiday adventure this year but I am finding my joy right in my own back yard. Life is good!
My hard things are pretty easy. They are simply time consuming, take up space in my brain and weigh me down. Things like getting my hair cut, getting an oil change, picking up a prescription, coloring my hair, washing sheets and getting groceries. They are simple little tasks that are nice to have behind me before the weekend arrives.
It is Wednesday - a very good day to start tackling the pre-weekend errands. My ambition is being spurred on, due to the fact that my sister is arriving tomorrow so we can go to see Cher [insert great joy and excitement here]!
This Thursday night adventure came with the stress of asking for a day off each of my jobs. Which, once my requests were granted, quickly transformed into the anticipation of knowing I get one evening and one day off this week.
I am having a hard time pushing myself out of my comfort zone these days. I have notations and mental lists of invitations I should issue but I haven't acted on any of them.
"Family" is filling my need for company and spontaneity. There is little that makes me happier than my son showing up on our doorstep with nothing more than a cup of coffee and a visit on his agenda. It is a bonus when he offers up his handyman services but I am quite content with coffee and conversation.
My siblings will soon be busy with their summer schedules but this spring has brought several opportunities for us to get together. In fact, one of my sisters has staked claim on one of our beds and said, "Don't wash the sheets yet - I'll be back!". I told her she should have picked a better bed if it was going to be hers, but I simply smile and think of my thoughts of Mom and "her room" here. I have a feeling there may soon be a "Donna's room" in our midst. When my finances recover from our outdoor maintenance expenses, I must attempt to make her room/bed more comfortable.
I have a short hiatus of fun-filled activities after Cher's concert but I am quite looking forward to the next item on this summers highlight reel of events. A few free weekends, followed by some outdoor maintenance (soffit, fascia, eavestroughs and downspouts) will wind up with a date with Oprah within the month.
Oprah is an out-of-town excursion and dare I say that I am quite looking forward to this? Oprah and her "Super Soul" events is part of a visit with a sister-friend with whom I share a Super Soul kind of connection.
The weekend following that, is yet another easy to look forward to occasion. I have been invited to see Johnny Reid at an outdoor concert with another friend who I share a unique, Super Soul kinship.
An out-of-town live theatre is next on the itinerary. My son knows someone who is in the play and the town is mid-way between here and my sister's. So it is possible we may meet up again.
The summer will wind up with another live performance in my sister's fine city, where we hope the sisters shall gather and see Mamma Mia.
A tentative October gathering-of-the-siblings is an idea that is brewing. We got together last year, after the busyness of summer was behind us and before winter settled in. This was the first time all four of us gathered in Mom's home territory since her house was sold. We rented an AirBnB and simply enjoyed being together under one roof, as a family. Something we thought may never happen after Mom's house was gone.
My calendar is sprinkled with events and gathering with people with whom I share a special "Super Soul Connection".
As my evening with Cher is on the horizon, I am revelling in my summer line-up of events. I will not go on any grand holiday adventure this year but I am finding my joy right in my own back yard. Life is good!
Tuesday, May 21, 2019
Morning Thoughts
"Decluttering your mind" - these are the words that spoke to me loudest in my morning stroll through the Interwebs in a quest to reroute my thoughts. The blog which caused me to pause is "Be More With Less"; the post that caught my attention is "One Simple Way to Declutter Your Mind". The following ideas are not my own but I like this take on putting worries to rest.
I have read time and time again, that gratitude is key to healthy, happy living. I wholeheartedly believe this to be true. Counting my blessings, especially during tough times has been my coping mechanism for forever.
As grateful as I feel for that which I have within my life, anxiety continues to plague my thoughts. I can talk myself down from most anything but life is not perfect. As much as I can try to interject a wide view perspective of that which feels unjust and hurtful, my heart still carries the weight of some days long after the moment has passed.
What is suggested in the article I read, is to write down the thoughts that are cycling through your mind before you go to sleep at night. Write it out. Good, bad or anything in between. Then give yourself permission to let it all go and revisit this list in the morning.
I have done this unintentionally on a few occasions. The days that haunt me. The words I can't say out loud. I write them down, feel them, read them from a wide angle lens for perspective. Thoughts cycle around and around and around in my mind. Thoughts feel bigger than they are when unspoken, just as a small ball of snow rolled around in the snow long enough becomes big enough to make a snowman.
I have used writing as a tool to regain my perspective, come up with a plan of attack and simply cope for as long as I can remember. But I have never consciously written down my thoughts with the intent of emptying my mind for a good night's sleep. Then revisiting them in the light of day.
The first light of the morning often brings clarity to that which is weighing you down. My best ideas, answers and plans of attack are clearest in the dawn of a new day.
What is suggested in the article I read, is to write down the thoughts that are cycling through your mind before you go to sleep at night. Write it out. Good, bad or anything in between. Then give yourself permission to let it all go and revisit this list in the morning.
I have done this unintentionally on a few occasions. The days that haunt me. The words I can't say out loud. I write them down, feel them, read them from a wide angle lens for perspective. Thoughts cycle around and around and around in my mind. Thoughts feel bigger than they are when unspoken, just as a small ball of snow rolled around in the snow long enough becomes big enough to make a snowman.
I have used writing as a tool to regain my perspective, come up with a plan of attack and simply cope for as long as I can remember. But I have never consciously written down my thoughts with the intent of emptying my mind for a good night's sleep. Then revisiting them in the light of day.
The first light of the morning often brings clarity to that which is weighing you down. My best ideas, answers and plans of attack are clearest in the dawn of a new day.
That said, my heart is heavy this morning. I don't know why. The morning sun did not work its magic for me. I have to leave the house today. I want to stay home.
This morning feels hard. This too shall pass. I know this is true. One forward step at a time. I will make my way to another weekend. A weekend without my roofer elves upon my roof (they are back this morning for their third and final day).
I do believe I'm in the midst of a long weekend hangover. A hangover that consists of a list of all I hoped to do, with little-to-nothing crossed off that list. It is time to create an action plan.
I wrote those words and immediately thought to myself "I need a holiday" and looked ahead at the calendar and dared to dream.
I don't need to go anywhere. I have no desire to run. I simply want to be home. I want to stay home and savor my mornings, knowing I can revel in those early morning moments for as long as they last. Perhaps take some day trips. Visions of an elastic band which expands and contracts, always bringing me back home wafts through my mind as I dare to dream ...
I spotted our neighborhood rabbit this morning. I haven't seen this guy for a very long time. I have been watching, waiting and hoping to spot the rabbit(s) that hop through our streets. I want to be still and watch nature unfold before my eyes.
And how is your Tuesday-after-the-long-weekend feeling?
This morning feels hard. This too shall pass. I know this is true. One forward step at a time. I will make my way to another weekend. A weekend without my roofer elves upon my roof (they are back this morning for their third and final day).
I do believe I'm in the midst of a long weekend hangover. A hangover that consists of a list of all I hoped to do, with little-to-nothing crossed off that list. It is time to create an action plan.
I wrote those words and immediately thought to myself "I need a holiday" and looked ahead at the calendar and dared to dream.
I don't need to go anywhere. I have no desire to run. I simply want to be home. I want to stay home and savor my mornings, knowing I can revel in those early morning moments for as long as they last. Perhaps take some day trips. Visions of an elastic band which expands and contracts, always bringing me back home wafts through my mind as I dare to dream ...
I spotted our neighborhood rabbit this morning. I haven't seen this guy for a very long time. I have been watching, waiting and hoping to spot the rabbit(s) that hop through our streets. I want to be still and watch nature unfold before my eyes.
And how is your Tuesday-after-the-long-weekend feeling?
Monday, May 20, 2019
Speaking of "73"
As the number 73 rolled in and around and through my thoughts this morning, I remembered one more fun fact. Today is Cher's 73rd birthday.
My sister and I will be going to see Cher in three days. We will sit back and marvel at what "73" looks like on Cher. I am prepared to be amazed.
I have a feeling even my very ambitious mother couldn't hold a candle to Cher's performance on stage (I can hear her raspy voice reply, "Nor would I want to!"). In the same token, I wonder if Cher could have kept up with Mom's ambition levels (I've still got your back, Mom).
I listened to an interview with Cher as she spoke about her current tour. She mentioned (I'm paraphrasing here so this is not exactly what she said) that she gives her all when she is on stage but the moment she is out of the spotlight, she is in recovery mode. Judging by her past performances, she doesn't have very long recovery periods yet she continues to go back "on" and in full performance mode.
As I wrote of Mom's ambition, motivation and perseverance at the age of 73 being akin to a marathon and my tendency to simply take on life in short 100 yard dashes (then rest and recoup) ... I wonder if Cher and I may have something in common after all...
I remember the way the music of the 70's seeped into my entire heart and soul at my 35th high school reunion. I danced like no one was watching. People commented on "how fit I was" at the time. Yes, that was six years ago. No, I haven't done much to maintain that level of fitness. But I remember the feeling well. My heart began to beat to the beat of the music and I was the music. The music was me.
I wonder if that is how Cher feels when she is singing and dancing to the beat of the music that has been a part of her existence for the past 60+ years.
73 ... 73 ... 73 ...
The number 73 is still speaking to me today. Happy Birthday, Cher!!
My sister and I will be going to see Cher in three days. We will sit back and marvel at what "73" looks like on Cher. I am prepared to be amazed.
I have a feeling even my very ambitious mother couldn't hold a candle to Cher's performance on stage (I can hear her raspy voice reply, "Nor would I want to!"). In the same token, I wonder if Cher could have kept up with Mom's ambition levels (I've still got your back, Mom).
I listened to an interview with Cher as she spoke about her current tour. She mentioned (I'm paraphrasing here so this is not exactly what she said) that she gives her all when she is on stage but the moment she is out of the spotlight, she is in recovery mode. Judging by her past performances, she doesn't have very long recovery periods yet she continues to go back "on" and in full performance mode.
As I wrote of Mom's ambition, motivation and perseverance at the age of 73 being akin to a marathon and my tendency to simply take on life in short 100 yard dashes (then rest and recoup) ... I wonder if Cher and I may have something in common after all...
I remember the way the music of the 70's seeped into my entire heart and soul at my 35th high school reunion. I danced like no one was watching. People commented on "how fit I was" at the time. Yes, that was six years ago. No, I haven't done much to maintain that level of fitness. But I remember the feeling well. My heart began to beat to the beat of the music and I was the music. The music was me.
I wonder if that is how Cher feels when she is singing and dancing to the beat of the music that has been a part of her existence for the past 60+ years.
73 ... 73 ... 73 ...
The number 73 is still speaking to me today. Happy Birthday, Cher!!
73
As my ambition levels ebb and flow like my moods, I was giving myself a good talking to this morning. "What is wrong with you?", I asked myself.
How old was Mom when she took the bull by the horns and simply started ripping up carpet after the Great Flood of 2001 saturated my brother's newly acquired home? I did some mental calculations and came up with the number "73".
73 ... 73 ... 73 ...
The number kept repeating through my mind. I thought of Mom's ambition and willingness to take on most any task.
I thought of Mom at my age and I am embarrassed. I don't hold a candle to what Mom accomplished at my age and older.
I think of my sisters and their work ethic, their ambition and energy. They take after Mom. I think of my brother who holds down a full time job, yet he still takes on home and yard maintenance at the end of his days and weeks. He has Dad's qualities.
I was trying to give myself a pass and reminded myself that my sisters and brother are all married. Does having a spouse to share the financial, physical and emotional load make a difference? Then again, I thought of Mom. She was on her own after the age of 55 until the end of her days. My lack of spouse theory doesn't hold water.
I think of Dad at my age and he was hospitalized with a debilitating heart attack days before his 58th birthday. Have I mentally capped out at the age Dad was when we lost him? Is this mental fatigue or am I simply lazy?
How old was Mom when she took the bull by the horns and simply started ripping up carpet after the Great Flood of 2001 saturated my brother's newly acquired home? I did some mental calculations and came up with the number "73".
73 ... 73 ... 73 ...
The number kept repeating through my mind. I thought of Mom's ambition and willingness to take on most any task.
I thought of Mom at my age and I am embarrassed. I don't hold a candle to what Mom accomplished at my age and older.
I think of my sisters and their work ethic, their ambition and energy. They take after Mom. I think of my brother who holds down a full time job, yet he still takes on home and yard maintenance at the end of his days and weeks. He has Dad's qualities.
I was trying to give myself a pass and reminded myself that my sisters and brother are all married. Does having a spouse to share the financial, physical and emotional load make a difference? Then again, I thought of Mom. She was on her own after the age of 55 until the end of her days. My lack of spouse theory doesn't hold water.
I think of Dad at my age and he was hospitalized with a debilitating heart attack days before his 58th birthday. Have I mentally capped out at the age Dad was when we lost him? Is this mental fatigue or am I simply lazy?
My moods are subject to the ebbs and flows of the moon, life in general and perhaps I'm hard wired this way. It shouldn't surprise me that my ambition levels mirror these hills and valleys.
What I do know to be true, is that work, accomplishing something and simply taking the next forward step is the best way out and through these doldrums.
Yet, here I sit. I am listening to the shinglers up on my roof toiling away and literally taking care of the roof over my head. The ambition will come. I can feel it bubbling up inside of me. But right now? In this moment? I am comforted in the knowledge our roof is in good hands. Taking care of the basics helps one weather the storms ahead. Not that I see any storms in my forecast, but that knowledge is key.
Life is a marathon. I think I have treated it like a 100 yard dash. My ambition comes in waves and then I wonder why I'm exhausted in the aftermath. If I'm going to attain the stamina Mom had at the age of 73, slow and steady is the way to go. Just. Don't. Stop.
Thursday, May 16, 2019
Gratitude List
They say you should go to sleep thinking of what you are grateful for. Then when you wake up in the morning, run your gratitude list through your mind before your feet hit the floor.
Here are my "Top 2" from this morning:
Cat #1 and Cat #2
These rather large sized black cats make sleeping in look like a sport. It's no wonder I want to stay in bed.
Wednesday, May 15, 2019
Here I Go Again - Part II (an unintended sequel)
I love the questions my aunt asks me. She often asks me the same question multiple times so I have the chance to mull over and revise my answers.
My aunt is convinced I should have been a teacher. While that profession has its merits, I'm not entirely sure it would have been a good fit for me. I know who I was, how I managed my daycare family and how often I fell short of my own expectations as a daycare provider. I know how I felt when I worked within the offices of the school system. I don't regret not becoming a teacher. Teachers have my respect and admiration for the work they do but I don't believe I could have become the teacher I would have wanted to be.
If I had chosen a career path to follow directly out of high school, I have a strong feeling I would have become an accountant. I'm a number person and derive great satisfaction from the perfection one can attain in the numbers field. That very quality is almost bringing me to my knees at the moment. I am so very grateful I didn't become an accountant.
I have always aimed for 100% whenever possible. This quality made me the perfect candidate for the career path I fell into. I worked in the banking industry for 20 years. It was a good run. It was a good mix of human interaction and numbers. I gained a lot of satisfaction from the job I did, simply by treating people the way I would want to be treated and "balancing to zero" at the end of the day.
Good things often seem to morph into not-quite-as-good as time goes on. As long as the focus was on excellent customer service, attention to detail, the ability to work on my own and as part of the whole, I was in my element. It was when sales targets, marketing goals, referrals and always striving to bring in more new money superseded what I liked about the job, when my desire to look elsewhere for a pay cheque took over.
It was in and around this time when my focus became "family" and I opened my daycare.
My daycare days were subsidized by working at the bank on Saturdays, followed by taking on a bookkeeping job I could squeeze into my work week. There were several tweeks and adjustments to this mixture of income sources but there always seemed to be a mixture of numbers plus human interaction which turned out to be a very good balance of what I did best. Add a little writing into that formula and life was pretty good.
Numbers plus people plus creativity plus family and friends defines "contentment" for me. The balance of this mixture has ebbed and flowed over the course of time. I'm struggling with that very balance right now.
Ten hour daycare days were long and hard. 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. were my hours. But I was at home, I started early and my work day was done by supper time. It was hard but it was manageable. I could have a life after supper if I so chose.
I still have ten hour days. I leave the house at 9:15 and (if I don't have any pit stops to make on my way home) I am home by 7:15. Supper has gone the way of the dinosaurs around here. I come home and I am spent. Trying to hold up my end of the conversation after a day away from home is akin to drunk driving.
I am spent. I feel mentally impaired. I'm good for nothing at the end of my day.
My balance is out of whack. I cannot find my footing in my numbers job. I am mentally fatigued by the conversations I have throughout my day. Attempting to have a social life is a chore. I am grateful for a family who knows me well and has adapted to life as I am living it.
Our home is my oasis, my source of comfort and strength. I know very little right now but I do know I want to find a way to make our home work for me again. I look at our freshly renovated main floor, recognize my weaknesses in the area of tolerance and I know re-opening my daycare is not an option. I do know I want to earn a living from home.
I've been here before.
I was some version of "here" when I decided to take a leave of absence from a stable and secure job with benefits to open my daycare.
I felt this way before I decided to go back to school for a year after 11 years of daycaring, so I could pursue a job in the bookkeeping field.
When rerouting my career didn't work (after several failed attempts at jobs that robbed me of my confidence and belief that I was capable of working outside my home), I was another crucial fork in the road. I reopened my daycare.
I was at a breaking point before I closed my daycare for the second time. What I really wanted to do was move out to Mom's, leave all my jobs behind me and take on something familiar and part time.
I'm back to where I was. Retirement has never sounded so good. I'm tired. I'm broken. I'm empty.
Life is generous enough to keep out doling lessons, long after my desire to learn them is gone. As I wrote in yesterday's post, here I go again.
My aunt is convinced I should have been a teacher. While that profession has its merits, I'm not entirely sure it would have been a good fit for me. I know who I was, how I managed my daycare family and how often I fell short of my own expectations as a daycare provider. I know how I felt when I worked within the offices of the school system. I don't regret not becoming a teacher. Teachers have my respect and admiration for the work they do but I don't believe I could have become the teacher I would have wanted to be.
If I had chosen a career path to follow directly out of high school, I have a strong feeling I would have become an accountant. I'm a number person and derive great satisfaction from the perfection one can attain in the numbers field. That very quality is almost bringing me to my knees at the moment. I am so very grateful I didn't become an accountant.
I have always aimed for 100% whenever possible. This quality made me the perfect candidate for the career path I fell into. I worked in the banking industry for 20 years. It was a good run. It was a good mix of human interaction and numbers. I gained a lot of satisfaction from the job I did, simply by treating people the way I would want to be treated and "balancing to zero" at the end of the day.
Good things often seem to morph into not-quite-as-good as time goes on. As long as the focus was on excellent customer service, attention to detail, the ability to work on my own and as part of the whole, I was in my element. It was when sales targets, marketing goals, referrals and always striving to bring in more new money superseded what I liked about the job, when my desire to look elsewhere for a pay cheque took over.
It was in and around this time when my focus became "family" and I opened my daycare.
My daycare days were subsidized by working at the bank on Saturdays, followed by taking on a bookkeeping job I could squeeze into my work week. There were several tweeks and adjustments to this mixture of income sources but there always seemed to be a mixture of numbers plus human interaction which turned out to be a very good balance of what I did best. Add a little writing into that formula and life was pretty good.
Numbers plus people plus creativity plus family and friends defines "contentment" for me. The balance of this mixture has ebbed and flowed over the course of time. I'm struggling with that very balance right now.
Ten hour daycare days were long and hard. 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. were my hours. But I was at home, I started early and my work day was done by supper time. It was hard but it was manageable. I could have a life after supper if I so chose.
I still have ten hour days. I leave the house at 9:15 and (if I don't have any pit stops to make on my way home) I am home by 7:15. Supper has gone the way of the dinosaurs around here. I come home and I am spent. Trying to hold up my end of the conversation after a day away from home is akin to drunk driving.
I am spent. I feel mentally impaired. I'm good for nothing at the end of my day.
My balance is out of whack. I cannot find my footing in my numbers job. I am mentally fatigued by the conversations I have throughout my day. Attempting to have a social life is a chore. I am grateful for a family who knows me well and has adapted to life as I am living it.
Our home is my oasis, my source of comfort and strength. I know very little right now but I do know I want to find a way to make our home work for me again. I look at our freshly renovated main floor, recognize my weaknesses in the area of tolerance and I know re-opening my daycare is not an option. I do know I want to earn a living from home.
I've been here before.
I was some version of "here" when I decided to take a leave of absence from a stable and secure job with benefits to open my daycare.
I felt this way before I decided to go back to school for a year after 11 years of daycaring, so I could pursue a job in the bookkeeping field.
When rerouting my career didn't work (after several failed attempts at jobs that robbed me of my confidence and belief that I was capable of working outside my home), I was another crucial fork in the road. I reopened my daycare.
I was at a breaking point before I closed my daycare for the second time. What I really wanted to do was move out to Mom's, leave all my jobs behind me and take on something familiar and part time.
I'm back to where I was. Retirement has never sounded so good. I'm tired. I'm broken. I'm empty.
Life is generous enough to keep out doling lessons, long after my desire to learn them is gone. As I wrote in yesterday's post, here I go again.
Tuesday, May 14, 2019
Here We Go Again
The name of Cher's current tour (the one after her final, final tour) seems to describe the way I feel as a new week dawns.
Here I go again. Back into the same old, same old routine of doing the same old thing and hoping something changes. Yes, I believe it has been said that is the definition of insanity. Need I say more?
That said, I feel much lighter going into this week after clearing the deck of many "impossible things" yesterday, with the assistance of my son.
Not only did he mow the grass for me (all I had to do was buy the gas for the lawnmower and get the lawnmower started), but when I came home last night he told me he was going through the contents of his room in the hope of selling off unused items he has been holding onto.
My son is a university student with limited means. I am a home owner with excess belongings in the basement. We mixed those two facts together and came up with a perfect solution. If he could sell any of our unused household items, he can keep the cash. It is a win-win situation!
Lightening the load is sometimes as easy as cleaning off the counter tops and clearing out the excess. Mowing the lawn is a bonus (it is heavenly to come home to a well tended yard).
Off to work I go. Heading back into a new week and hoping the load feels lighter all around. Tending to "impossible things" at home is bound to affect how I head into this week.
Here I go again. Same old, same old but hoping for better results.
Here I go again. Back into the same old, same old routine of doing the same old thing and hoping something changes. Yes, I believe it has been said that is the definition of insanity. Need I say more?
That said, I feel much lighter going into this week after clearing the deck of many "impossible things" yesterday, with the assistance of my son.
Not only did he mow the grass for me (all I had to do was buy the gas for the lawnmower and get the lawnmower started), but when I came home last night he told me he was going through the contents of his room in the hope of selling off unused items he has been holding onto.
My son is a university student with limited means. I am a home owner with excess belongings in the basement. We mixed those two facts together and came up with a perfect solution. If he could sell any of our unused household items, he can keep the cash. It is a win-win situation!
Lightening the load is sometimes as easy as cleaning off the counter tops and clearing out the excess. Mowing the lawn is a bonus (it is heavenly to come home to a well tended yard).
Off to work I go. Heading back into a new week and hoping the load feels lighter all around. Tending to "impossible things" at home is bound to affect how I head into this week.
Here I go again. Same old, same old but hoping for better results.
Monday, May 13, 2019
Mondays
I have the luxury of having Mondays off from one of my jobs which allows me to start my work week at 4:00 p.m. on Monday verses 9:30 a.m. Let me tell you, that bonus 6.5 hours is a gift like no other.
Mondays off are not set in stone. My boss is very flexible when I need to take a day off or shift a work day so I do my best to work when she needs me. As a rule, we can make Monday off a reality.
I am just easing into my final hour of my weekend and revelling in a Monday I have most thoroughly enjoyed.
My best weekends are when I park my car Friday night and it doesn't move until I go to work on Monday. I can stay home and waste time like nobody's business. Quiet time + a little puttering + cooking a meal (maybe two) + an ample dose of Netflix + unexpected company and/or phone calls = Perfection
Life has felt somewhat hectic this past short while. My son's play instigated a flurry of company, late hours, extra-curricular conversation and activity which has wiped my energy levels dry. My work week is highly interactive and I recharge my batteries by going home and being silent. I have been talking far too much lately.
My boss and I discussed our upcoming work week on my last day of work last week. Our plan was for me to work today. The very idea of going into work this morning brought me to my knees. So last night, I called and asked if I could work Tuesday through Thursday instead. She agreed.
I felt like the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders. I revelled in the last of my conscious hours last night and enjoyed sleeping in this morning, with both cats at my side. I had a leisurely morning and then I did the hardest of things. I left the house.
I have accomplished more in the last four hours, than I have all weekend. A few ready-to-eat meals have been prepared, the lawn is mowed (all I had to do was buy gas for the lawnmower and my son took care of the rest), a broken picture frame has been replaced, the tail end of one hand lotion has been emptied into another, my sister's amended tax form is done and ready to be sent off ... none of these tasks were big. But they just seemed to pile up on me and felt hard.
Energy begets energy. Doing one thing spurs on the energy to do the next. And so on and so forth. I know I feel better when I am on top of the chore list within my little world. Today? I feel like I'm back on top of things again.
Mondays off are one of my most favorite things. I think I'm ready for the week now.
Sunday, May 12, 2019
Turning Back Time - Part II
One last post that honors Mother's Day in the best way I can imagine after being reminded of the story of a brave and honorable mother duck. I wrote this two years ago but the memory is deeply engrained and a story I will not forget:
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 7, 2017
In Memory of a Mother Duck
The wonders of nature have been forefront in my mind this year as I have travelled through the months. I've spent a fair number of miles behind the wheel of my car and the landscape around me has evolved from frozen and white to the various stages of spring. My last trip, Mother Nature was really outdoing herself. The trees had come back to life, the grass in the ditches was waving in the wind and the birds were out in full force.
I love watching the birds. It starts with those V-formations in the sky as the Canadian geese head northward, spotting ducks swimming and diving in the sloughs, the hawks as they soar in the wind and even our hardy birds that weather our Canadian winters seem a little more playful as the summer weather starts to return.
I was on the road bright and early this trip and the birds were out for an early morning stroll across the highway.
I was reminiscing about an unfortunate incident from last year when I was driving home on a busy summer Sunday. I was going highway speed when I noticed something long and low to the ground in the distance. It looked like something akin to a big garbage bag wafting across the highway when I first noticed it. By the time I drove up and saw it was a mother duck and her ducklings crossing the highway, it was too late to do anything about it. I had cars coming up behind me and the only thing I could do was take my foot off the gas and not make any sudden moves.
I felt ill as I looked in my rear view mirror to see the mother duck went down behind me. Her young little family was little more than a blur when the next round of cars came upon them as quickly as I had. The feeling and visual of that little duck family is still vivid in my mind a year later.
I was thinking of this little family on my quiet morning highway drive when I noticed something on the highway ahead. Having the highway to myself, I had the luxury of slowing down before I approached whatever it was. Sure enough, it was a pair of ducks. Two adults this time. They were walking along the highway in the lane I wasn't in, so I had the opportunity to appreciate them as I coasted past them. As I got close to them, they simply flew away. They flew.
Yes, of course! Ducks can fly. When these two adult ducks had no one else to consider but themselves, they simply flew away. My mother duck from last year didn't fly away. She didn't abandon her family to save herself. She stayed where she was, at the head of the line of her family and "took the hit". She sacrificed herself for her children.
At no point since my duck accident last year, did I even consider the fact that the mother duck could have flown away the moment she realized her life was in jeopardy. It never even dawned on me. Until these two adult ducks, without a family in tow, simply flew away when I got too close.
I was still in awe of the wonder of "motherhood" in all shapes and forms when I saw something off in the distance. This time, it was a goose family. They are taller and stand out much better than a low lying duck does and this time I (once again) had the luxury of a quiet highway to slow my pace and even brake as I got closer.
A mother goose, four little goslings and a father goose bringing up the rear crossed the highway safely. When they had made it to safety and I drove past, the father lifted his wings and swooped up off the ground in what I feel was a "thank you wave".
I may not have realized what was on the horizon if it had not been for that mother duck and her duckings last year. The mother duck who lost her life for the love of her family last year has made a lasting impact within me.
I think of that mother duck often. I still quietly mourn the loss of her and her family. If only she had known not to cross the highway during peak hours, she may have been saved.
She did not die in vain. A mother will literally take a bullet to save her child. Whether they are human or a bird or many other living creatures.
I was telling my mom this story and we both marvelled at the wonder of motherhood. As our visit progressed, we started talking of mother cats and Mom mentioned that the tom cats will kill the kittens. "Once the mother has kittens, she will have nothing to do with the male so the tom will try to kill the kittens to get her attention again." "Hmmm..." I replied. "I'm even more like a cat than I realized."
I think I'd rather think like a duck.
I love watching the birds. It starts with those V-formations in the sky as the Canadian geese head northward, spotting ducks swimming and diving in the sloughs, the hawks as they soar in the wind and even our hardy birds that weather our Canadian winters seem a little more playful as the summer weather starts to return.
I was on the road bright and early this trip and the birds were out for an early morning stroll across the highway.
I was reminiscing about an unfortunate incident from last year when I was driving home on a busy summer Sunday. I was going highway speed when I noticed something long and low to the ground in the distance. It looked like something akin to a big garbage bag wafting across the highway when I first noticed it. By the time I drove up and saw it was a mother duck and her ducklings crossing the highway, it was too late to do anything about it. I had cars coming up behind me and the only thing I could do was take my foot off the gas and not make any sudden moves.
I felt ill as I looked in my rear view mirror to see the mother duck went down behind me. Her young little family was little more than a blur when the next round of cars came upon them as quickly as I had. The feeling and visual of that little duck family is still vivid in my mind a year later.
I was thinking of this little family on my quiet morning highway drive when I noticed something on the highway ahead. Having the highway to myself, I had the luxury of slowing down before I approached whatever it was. Sure enough, it was a pair of ducks. Two adults this time. They were walking along the highway in the lane I wasn't in, so I had the opportunity to appreciate them as I coasted past them. As I got close to them, they simply flew away. They flew.
Yes, of course! Ducks can fly. When these two adult ducks had no one else to consider but themselves, they simply flew away. My mother duck from last year didn't fly away. She didn't abandon her family to save herself. She stayed where she was, at the head of the line of her family and "took the hit". She sacrificed herself for her children.
At no point since my duck accident last year, did I even consider the fact that the mother duck could have flown away the moment she realized her life was in jeopardy. It never even dawned on me. Until these two adult ducks, without a family in tow, simply flew away when I got too close.
I was still in awe of the wonder of "motherhood" in all shapes and forms when I saw something off in the distance. This time, it was a goose family. They are taller and stand out much better than a low lying duck does and this time I (once again) had the luxury of a quiet highway to slow my pace and even brake as I got closer.
A mother goose, four little goslings and a father goose bringing up the rear crossed the highway safely. When they had made it to safety and I drove past, the father lifted his wings and swooped up off the ground in what I feel was a "thank you wave".
I may not have realized what was on the horizon if it had not been for that mother duck and her duckings last year. The mother duck who lost her life for the love of her family last year has made a lasting impact within me.
I think of that mother duck often. I still quietly mourn the loss of her and her family. If only she had known not to cross the highway during peak hours, she may have been saved.
She did not die in vain. A mother will literally take a bullet to save her child. Whether they are human or a bird or many other living creatures.
I was telling my mom this story and we both marvelled at the wonder of motherhood. As our visit progressed, we started talking of mother cats and Mom mentioned that the tom cats will kill the kittens. "Once the mother has kittens, she will have nothing to do with the male so the tom will try to kill the kittens to get her attention again." "Hmmm..." I replied. "I'm even more like a cat than I realized."
I think I'd rather think like a duck.
If I Could Turn Back Time
I have been watching for rabbits, hoping to spot one, ever wishful to cross paths with a baby rabbit. Rabbit watching is one of my favorite things and I am always pleasantly surprised when a rabbit shows itself in my presence.
I was driving home from the final performance of my son's play. I have spotted rabbits on several occasions on the University grounds. I was watching.
As we drove through the winding roads to our destination, there were more Canadian geese than I could count. They respected the rules of the road, as did I, and we just enjoyed a small piece of nature as we made our way.
We got there early so went for a walk around the grounds. We didn't stray far (mostly because I was a little unsure of my ability to find my way back to the drama building). I did a little bird watching, marvelled at the blooms on some trees and I hoped and wished to spot a rabbit.
We enjoyed our evening and were recapping our interpretations of the diversity of the story lines, the talent and abilities of the students who engineered the entire event. It was a perfect night.
Then, out of nowhere in a momentary flash my dream came true. I didn't spot them until it was almost too late. Two baby bunnies sitting on the boulevard. I didn't have time to think, to brake, to stop or do anything to stop and simply take in the momentary flash of a baby rabbit sighting.
I drove past. In that very moment the rabbits fled. I couldn't see where they went until I heard it under my rear tire. I ran over a baby rabbit.
My heart sunk as low as it could go. My wish was granted and I wasn't going slow enough to stop and savor the moment.
As the highlight reel of my life passes through my mind, this will be a moment I will forever regret. This moment and the time I hit a mother duck on the highway. This time was worse, because this time I had time to stop.
If I could only turn back time. I would rewind the tape, stop the car and simply soak up the miracle of spotting a baby bunny. It would have been the perfect end to an otherwise perfect evening.
I was driving home from the final performance of my son's play. I have spotted rabbits on several occasions on the University grounds. I was watching.
As we drove through the winding roads to our destination, there were more Canadian geese than I could count. They respected the rules of the road, as did I, and we just enjoyed a small piece of nature as we made our way.
We got there early so went for a walk around the grounds. We didn't stray far (mostly because I was a little unsure of my ability to find my way back to the drama building). I did a little bird watching, marvelled at the blooms on some trees and I hoped and wished to spot a rabbit.
We enjoyed our evening and were recapping our interpretations of the diversity of the story lines, the talent and abilities of the students who engineered the entire event. It was a perfect night.
Then, out of nowhere in a momentary flash my dream came true. I didn't spot them until it was almost too late. Two baby bunnies sitting on the boulevard. I didn't have time to think, to brake, to stop or do anything to stop and simply take in the momentary flash of a baby rabbit sighting.
I drove past. In that very moment the rabbits fled. I couldn't see where they went until I heard it under my rear tire. I ran over a baby rabbit.
My heart sunk as low as it could go. My wish was granted and I wasn't going slow enough to stop and savor the moment.
As the highlight reel of my life passes through my mind, this will be a moment I will forever regret. This moment and the time I hit a mother duck on the highway. This time was worse, because this time I had time to stop.
If I could only turn back time. I would rewind the tape, stop the car and simply soak up the miracle of spotting a baby bunny. It would have been the perfect end to an otherwise perfect evening.
Just Another Day
It's Mother's Day. So many wistful thoughts are floating through my mind.
Mom, of course I'm thinking of you but that is not unusual. I don't think of you any more or any less because of a date or Hallmark occasion. I think of you because you are, always have been and always will be my mom. You are interwoven within my genes, my heart, my soul, my thoughts, my past, my present and my future. I am grateful.
I think very little of my label as "Mom" on Mother's Day because, as it is with how I feel about Mom, it is how I feel about being a mom. I don't think of the role I play within my children's lives any more or any less because of a certain date on the calendar. I think of my children because they are a part of me, my past, my present and future. They carry a part of me within them and I hope and pray it is "enough".
I like to celebrate the moments as they unfold in life. Unchoreographed, unexpected, spur of the moment little nothings that all add up to something larger than life.
As I have leafed through the decades of cards, letters, small gifts and little nothings I gave to Mom over the years, I am grateful for the reminder that as a daughter I did my best. I think it was enough.
When I sit still with my memories of Mom, of being a mom and thinking of those who are missing their mom I hope others find serenity within their day as wistful thoughts waft through their mind.
I am grateful for all the occasions that feel like Mother's Day despite what the calendar says. I am blessed to have such a collection of such memories.
Any day is Mother's Day in my little world. May you find peace within your day, any day. Let the good stuff sift to the top and lose yourself in the moments as they unfold.
Mom, of course I'm thinking of you but that is not unusual. I don't think of you any more or any less because of a date or Hallmark occasion. I think of you because you are, always have been and always will be my mom. You are interwoven within my genes, my heart, my soul, my thoughts, my past, my present and my future. I am grateful.
I think very little of my label as "Mom" on Mother's Day because, as it is with how I feel about Mom, it is how I feel about being a mom. I don't think of the role I play within my children's lives any more or any less because of a certain date on the calendar. I think of my children because they are a part of me, my past, my present and future. They carry a part of me within them and I hope and pray it is "enough".
I like to celebrate the moments as they unfold in life. Unchoreographed, unexpected, spur of the moment little nothings that all add up to something larger than life.
As I have leafed through the decades of cards, letters, small gifts and little nothings I gave to Mom over the years, I am grateful for the reminder that as a daughter I did my best. I think it was enough.
When I sit still with my memories of Mom, of being a mom and thinking of those who are missing their mom I hope others find serenity within their day as wistful thoughts waft through their mind.
I am grateful for all the occasions that feel like Mother's Day despite what the calendar says. I am blessed to have such a collection of such memories.
Any day is Mother's Day in my little world. May you find peace within your day, any day. Let the good stuff sift to the top and lose yourself in the moments as they unfold.
Friday, May 10, 2019
Wafting Back Down to Earth
I am sitting back and wafting back down to earth after a most excellent Sister Sleepover here last night.
The catalyst for this unexpected treat was my Youngest Son's acting debut performance. We attended this grand event and were impressed by the raw talent of a showcase of university students who took care of absolutely every aspect of the four, one-act plays which unfolded before us.
This is the first time I have seen my son perform in many years and my heart soared as I watched the way he portrayed and embodied the soul of his character with (what appeared to be) such ease. He told me he played the protagonist in the story but [typical "mother" statement forthcoming], I saw him as a "good and loyal soldier", who was simply following the orders of some unnamed "Führer" at the end of the Second World War.
Watching the metamorphosis of my son as he pursues his passion with his entire being has been something to behold. I hope this is just a beginning for him ...
We all came home and enjoyed a relaxed visit as we wound down the day with drinks and nachos. Good company, good munching food and a beverage of our choosing made for a most excellent wind down to the day.
I slept sounder than I have slept for a while. It was a purely blissful feeling, sharing a roof with my sisters only a few steps away. I felt as safe and secure as I did as a child, when my older sisters watched over me and guided me through my early childhood.
Then came the awakening. The sun rose and ushered in a new day. I exchanged days off so I could enjoy a leisurely morning with my sisters and it was one of the smartest moves I've made in a while.
We chatted lightly about everything and anything. I was sitting in a kitchen chair that gave me a perfect view of a pencil drawing of my childhood home. The only home I shared with my sisters before they grew up, got married and we moved out of the province.
Wisps of feelings, memories and a desire to turn back the clock just to hear their side of those memories was warm and comforting. We spoke of Mom, we guessed at what she would say to various current events going on within our families. We spoke the language of family. Simply sitting back and being a part of the dialogue felt like a bear hug to my soul.
I've been struggling lately. I confessed my reality to my sisters and they listened with their whole heart. I felt like we had turned back the clock to a different time and place when they were there to walk with me through some of the biggest changes in my life.
I've been here before.
I've been feeling Mom's presence so strongly lately. Not in a Twilight Zone kind of way. Just within my heart, my soul and my entire being. Mom would be so relieved to know our sister status remains strong and true. Mom's words keep coming out in the voice of others...
I hear you, Mom. I heard you then and I hear you now. Something's gotta change.
The catalyst for this unexpected treat was my Youngest Son's acting debut performance. We attended this grand event and were impressed by the raw talent of a showcase of university students who took care of absolutely every aspect of the four, one-act plays which unfolded before us.
This is the first time I have seen my son perform in many years and my heart soared as I watched the way he portrayed and embodied the soul of his character with (what appeared to be) such ease. He told me he played the protagonist in the story but [typical "mother" statement forthcoming], I saw him as a "good and loyal soldier", who was simply following the orders of some unnamed "Führer" at the end of the Second World War.
Watching the metamorphosis of my son as he pursues his passion with his entire being has been something to behold. I hope this is just a beginning for him ...
We all came home and enjoyed a relaxed visit as we wound down the day with drinks and nachos. Good company, good munching food and a beverage of our choosing made for a most excellent wind down to the day.
I slept sounder than I have slept for a while. It was a purely blissful feeling, sharing a roof with my sisters only a few steps away. I felt as safe and secure as I did as a child, when my older sisters watched over me and guided me through my early childhood.
Then came the awakening. The sun rose and ushered in a new day. I exchanged days off so I could enjoy a leisurely morning with my sisters and it was one of the smartest moves I've made in a while.
We chatted lightly about everything and anything. I was sitting in a kitchen chair that gave me a perfect view of a pencil drawing of my childhood home. The only home I shared with my sisters before they grew up, got married and we moved out of the province.
 |
| The only home where all four of "us kids" lived together before everyone moved on and out of that house and into the next phase of "life" |
I've been struggling lately. I confessed my reality to my sisters and they listened with their whole heart. I felt like we had turned back the clock to a different time and place when they were there to walk with me through some of the biggest changes in my life.
I've been here before.
I've been feeling Mom's presence so strongly lately. Not in a Twilight Zone kind of way. Just within my heart, my soul and my entire being. Mom would be so relieved to know our sister status remains strong and true. Mom's words keep coming out in the voice of others...
I hear you, Mom. I heard you then and I hear you now. Something's gotta change.
Thursday, May 9, 2019
Life As it Is (a story about cat hair)
This is a boring little story about laminate, cats and cat hair. Feel free to stop reading now. I don't feel a life lesson or moral to the story coming on so this may very well be a waste of words.
Anyway ...
I have been diligently waging a daily war on cat hair around here since the dust has settled on our new laminate. It is a thankless task and I weigh the pros and cons of laminate verses wall-to-wall carpeting on a regular basis.
My new routine consists of vacuuming and/or wet mopping the laminate daily. There is no satisfaction of freshly vacuumed lines on a pile carpet or the tinkle of debris finding its way up the vacuum cleaner hose (except for the time I accidentally vacuumed up a cat toy when I intended to push it aside with the vacuum attachment).
My black socks are a cat hair magnet so that is the ruler I use to see how I'm doing in this fight against cat hair. It could be better. It could be worse.
Fast forward to yesterday morning. I decided I would just mop down the floors instead of vacuuming. When I vacuum, I blindly vacuum under my bed and hope for the best. Yesterday before I mopped under my bed I took a peek under first and discovered some cat vomit (I warned you ... you had every chance to stop reading before you got here). I smiled and reassured myself that laminate was definitely the best choice in flooring as I proceeded to clean the cat-mess.
I had to sprawl out and I was lying flat out on the floor. I was fully committed to the task at hand and I was on the floor from elbows to my ankles.
I cleaned up the mess then checked myself out for cat hair. I was prepared to find myself looking like Big Foot's mother. I scanned myself for cat fur and was delighted to find I came out of the full on floor sprawl with minimal hair attached to my being in the aftermath.
Cleaning invisible dirt isn't fun. But in this war against cat hair, I think I scored a point yesterday. The laminate definitely inched ahead in the competition against carpeting.
I complain of all these mundane things but in reality I am over-the-moon grateful for these petty little annoyances. I adore these furry little black cats and all their hair. I am so grateful our carpeting has been replaced by wall-to-wall, fully washable flooring. I love the way I feel when I walk through our home, cat hair and all. I enjoy knowing the house is as clean as it is.
It could be better. It could be worse. I'm simply grateful for life as it is.
Anyway ...
I have been diligently waging a daily war on cat hair around here since the dust has settled on our new laminate. It is a thankless task and I weigh the pros and cons of laminate verses wall-to-wall carpeting on a regular basis.
My new routine consists of vacuuming and/or wet mopping the laminate daily. There is no satisfaction of freshly vacuumed lines on a pile carpet or the tinkle of debris finding its way up the vacuum cleaner hose (except for the time I accidentally vacuumed up a cat toy when I intended to push it aside with the vacuum attachment).
My black socks are a cat hair magnet so that is the ruler I use to see how I'm doing in this fight against cat hair. It could be better. It could be worse.
Fast forward to yesterday morning. I decided I would just mop down the floors instead of vacuuming. When I vacuum, I blindly vacuum under my bed and hope for the best. Yesterday before I mopped under my bed I took a peek under first and discovered some cat vomit (I warned you ... you had every chance to stop reading before you got here). I smiled and reassured myself that laminate was definitely the best choice in flooring as I proceeded to clean the cat-mess.
I had to sprawl out and I was lying flat out on the floor. I was fully committed to the task at hand and I was on the floor from elbows to my ankles.
I cleaned up the mess then checked myself out for cat hair. I was prepared to find myself looking like Big Foot's mother. I scanned myself for cat fur and was delighted to find I came out of the full on floor sprawl with minimal hair attached to my being in the aftermath.
Cleaning invisible dirt isn't fun. But in this war against cat hair, I think I scored a point yesterday. The laminate definitely inched ahead in the competition against carpeting.
I complain of all these mundane things but in reality I am over-the-moon grateful for these petty little annoyances. I adore these furry little black cats and all their hair. I am so grateful our carpeting has been replaced by wall-to-wall, fully washable flooring. I love the way I feel when I walk through our home, cat hair and all. I enjoy knowing the house is as clean as it is.
It could be better. It could be worse. I'm simply grateful for life as it is.
Wednesday, May 8, 2019
What If ...
What if that which you were complaining about the most was gone in an instant? No warning. No time to prep. Simply "poof"! And it was gone ...
Discontentment on the job? What if one arrived to work one morning and you were greeted with your final pay cheque and the statement, "We no longer require your services"? The end.
A child who was causing grief, worry, anxiety and general overall frustration? What if they were in a car accident and didn't survive? Your worries would be replaced by grief (and very likely a good dose of guilt).
A marriage/relationship that you couldn't see your way out of? What if they walked out the door and never came back? No room for discussion. Over.
Never ending maintenance on your home? What if it burned to the ground, taking all your worldly possessions (and maybe a cat or two) with it. No more maintenance required.
Speaking of cats, what about the (seemingly) infinite amount of cat hair you cannot keep on top of? What if the cat(s) died? Sure, you'd have cat hair for a while but wouldn't you feel completely different about knowing it was the last of its kind? No more cat = no more cat hair.
You can't find what you are looking for in a grocery store? What if the suppliers stopped supplying their wares and there was a shortage or rations over what was available to purchase?
The price of gas is soaring? What if that gas wasn't even available?
You wake up with a crick in your neck or back? What if you woke up in the morning and couldn't get out of bed?
A bad hair day? What if your hair started falling out and never grew back?
A disrupted nights sleep because of an excessive amount of noise? What if you couldn't hear?
I sit here and think of all the minor things which have been taking up valuable real estate in my mind and I can talk myself down off of every cliff if I think of of I ask myself the question: "What if this problem was taken away from me without warning?"
I had a very restless sleep last night. I kept waking up. I kept turning on Greys Anatomy to turn off my thoughts and tune into a fictional story line. I kept waking up. I kept turning on Greys.
I didn't have the ability to stay awake more than a minute and a half before I fell back into a light slumber so I kept rewinding and replaying the same episode. It was the episode where the hospital was in danger of being sold for scrap and the entire staff would be laid off. If that deal fell through "There would be no money for payroll ..."
It was like I was hit by a truck right in my own bed. What if I walked into work and was told exactly that fact. What if I was told "Effective immediately, your services are no longer required because [insert any reason here]"?
I woke up and my thoughts immediately went to the list of exterior house maintenance I am having taken care of this year. I have fast forwarded my cash flow situation so I can look at the long term and plan how to afford this endeavor. The ability to plan relies solely on the fact that I earn not only one pay cheque, but two. If my income was slashed in half, I may have half the stress I'm currently contending with but it would be replaced by new worries.
Would I rather adapt to the conditions in which I'm presently living with? Or start from scratch and be faced with an entirely unexpected set of troubles?
It happens every day. People get laid off. Accidents happen. People walk away. Houses burn to the ground. Pets die. Good health deteriorates.
We often take what we have for granted. It is good to remind yourself (and by "yourself", I am referring to "me") that things could change in an instant. What if ...
Discontentment on the job? What if one arrived to work one morning and you were greeted with your final pay cheque and the statement, "We no longer require your services"? The end.
A child who was causing grief, worry, anxiety and general overall frustration? What if they were in a car accident and didn't survive? Your worries would be replaced by grief (and very likely a good dose of guilt).
A marriage/relationship that you couldn't see your way out of? What if they walked out the door and never came back? No room for discussion. Over.
Never ending maintenance on your home? What if it burned to the ground, taking all your worldly possessions (and maybe a cat or two) with it. No more maintenance required.
Speaking of cats, what about the (seemingly) infinite amount of cat hair you cannot keep on top of? What if the cat(s) died? Sure, you'd have cat hair for a while but wouldn't you feel completely different about knowing it was the last of its kind? No more cat = no more cat hair.
You can't find what you are looking for in a grocery store? What if the suppliers stopped supplying their wares and there was a shortage or rations over what was available to purchase?
The price of gas is soaring? What if that gas wasn't even available?
You wake up with a crick in your neck or back? What if you woke up in the morning and couldn't get out of bed?
A bad hair day? What if your hair started falling out and never grew back?
A disrupted nights sleep because of an excessive amount of noise? What if you couldn't hear?
I sit here and think of all the minor things which have been taking up valuable real estate in my mind and I can talk myself down off of every cliff if I think of of I ask myself the question: "What if this problem was taken away from me without warning?"
I had a very restless sleep last night. I kept waking up. I kept turning on Greys Anatomy to turn off my thoughts and tune into a fictional story line. I kept waking up. I kept turning on Greys.
I didn't have the ability to stay awake more than a minute and a half before I fell back into a light slumber so I kept rewinding and replaying the same episode. It was the episode where the hospital was in danger of being sold for scrap and the entire staff would be laid off. If that deal fell through "There would be no money for payroll ..."
It was like I was hit by a truck right in my own bed. What if I walked into work and was told exactly that fact. What if I was told "Effective immediately, your services are no longer required because [insert any reason here]"?
I woke up and my thoughts immediately went to the list of exterior house maintenance I am having taken care of this year. I have fast forwarded my cash flow situation so I can look at the long term and plan how to afford this endeavor. The ability to plan relies solely on the fact that I earn not only one pay cheque, but two. If my income was slashed in half, I may have half the stress I'm currently contending with but it would be replaced by new worries.
Would I rather adapt to the conditions in which I'm presently living with? Or start from scratch and be faced with an entirely unexpected set of troubles?
It happens every day. People get laid off. Accidents happen. People walk away. Houses burn to the ground. Pets die. Good health deteriorates.
We often take what we have for granted. It is good to remind yourself (and by "yourself", I am referring to "me") that things could change in an instant. What if ...
Tuesday, May 7, 2019
My Repetitive Life is Full of Lessons I Already Know
In this cyclical, repetitive life I lead I seem to find my own answers hidden within the content of this blog space. I reread these words I wrote five years ago and they speak to me where I am at right now. Need I say more?
TUESDAY, MARCH 11, 2014
Famous Last Words
"My calendar is pretty empty. I know I must get milk sometime within the next five days or so but that is about the extent of my social calendar. Oh, and I must donate blood the week after that. Busy month for me!"
Those are the words that I typed when I replied to my cousin's email at 6:52 on Saturday evening. Less than 48 hours later, I seem to have my week booked up. How in the world did this happen?
For one thing, it is simply because I am saying "YES" to life. Saying yes is better than the year I started saying no. Saying no took away the pleasure-factor immensely. But I believe that "NO" was where I needed to be to have the energy to push myself those very hard days.
Saying "YES" invigorates and depletes at the same time. I know that I have a high-need-for-solitude so I need to offset my yeses with equal time just-for-me.
Saying "NO" does exactly the same thing to me a lot of the time. The weekends where I cocoon myself from the world and do little more than nurture myself fill me up but they also deplete me of that spark that I feel when I am in the thick of living-a-full-and-balanced-life.
Therein lies the key. Balance. Perhaps that is why I have fallen into the 'party planner' role lately.
As The Planner, I get to pick and choose what I want to do and when I want to do it. I could not have started-what-I-started-last-week a year ago, two years ago or any-number-of-years-ago because I simply didn't have anything in me to give. I was empty and trying very hard to fill myself up.
When you are running on empty it is hard to run a marathon. When you look at the long road ahead of you and you cannot even see the end goal it is hard to focus on endurance. It is simply all about getting to the next filling station and hotel.
The important thing is to keep taking those forward steps. Even when they don't seem to be making a difference. They are. Even the time spent filling up and resting are giving you what you need to make it to the next step along the way. If you could live your life backwards you would know that each and every pit stop was essential.
Small, forward steps, rest stops, keeping hydrated and enjoying the journey are what it's all about.
It takes time to prepare and train for the marathons of life. We can't be running at top speed all of the time. It's hard on the body, mind and soul. Focus on endurance. There may be times when you need to sprint but you simply cannot keep up that pace all of the time.
Yes verses no. Run verses walk. Rest verses replenish. Balance.
I love my little life-as-I-know-it. The life where running out for milk and donating blood are the driving force of a week. It gives me time to say "YES! ... I will take in a dance class" and "YES! I am home and we will have a good visit while you are here" and "YES! I can do that for you" and "YES! Let's plan an adventure".
My calendar is still pretty empty. I like it that way. It gives me room to juggle priorities and put what needs to be nourished at the top of the pile.
But my empty calendar sure feels full...
Those are the words that I typed when I replied to my cousin's email at 6:52 on Saturday evening. Less than 48 hours later, I seem to have my week booked up. How in the world did this happen?
For one thing, it is simply because I am saying "YES" to life. Saying yes is better than the year I started saying no. Saying no took away the pleasure-factor immensely. But I believe that "NO" was where I needed to be to have the energy to push myself those very hard days.
Saying "YES" invigorates and depletes at the same time. I know that I have a high-need-for-solitude so I need to offset my yeses with equal time just-for-me.
Saying "NO" does exactly the same thing to me a lot of the time. The weekends where I cocoon myself from the world and do little more than nurture myself fill me up but they also deplete me of that spark that I feel when I am in the thick of living-a-full-and-balanced-life.
Therein lies the key. Balance. Perhaps that is why I have fallen into the 'party planner' role lately.
As The Planner, I get to pick and choose what I want to do and when I want to do it. I could not have started-what-I-started-last-week a year ago, two years ago or any-number-of-years-ago because I simply didn't have anything in me to give. I was empty and trying very hard to fill myself up.
When you are running on empty it is hard to run a marathon. When you look at the long road ahead of you and you cannot even see the end goal it is hard to focus on endurance. It is simply all about getting to the next filling station and hotel.
The important thing is to keep taking those forward steps. Even when they don't seem to be making a difference. They are. Even the time spent filling up and resting are giving you what you need to make it to the next step along the way. If you could live your life backwards you would know that each and every pit stop was essential.
Small, forward steps, rest stops, keeping hydrated and enjoying the journey are what it's all about.
It takes time to prepare and train for the marathons of life. We can't be running at top speed all of the time. It's hard on the body, mind and soul. Focus on endurance. There may be times when you need to sprint but you simply cannot keep up that pace all of the time.
Yes verses no. Run verses walk. Rest verses replenish. Balance.
I love my little life-as-I-know-it. The life where running out for milk and donating blood are the driving force of a week. It gives me time to say "YES! ... I will take in a dance class" and "YES! I am home and we will have a good visit while you are here" and "YES! I can do that for you" and "YES! Let's plan an adventure".
My calendar is still pretty empty. I like it that way. It gives me room to juggle priorities and put what needs to be nourished at the top of the pile.
But my empty calendar sure feels full...
The Best Things in Life
The weekend past felt like it passed by in the blink of an eyelash. The post I most wanted to write was titled "Moments" and that encapsulates my weekend in one word.
We can't plan, predict or choreograph the best moments in our life. They are a little like watching a butterfly. You just sit quietly and let things happen without forethought or expectations.
Moments could be a "sitting in a sunbeam" kind of feeling where everything in that precise moment in time comes together and provides you with peace and clarity.
Moments could be a conversation that unfolded easily, personal truths are revealed and held tight and a sense of trust and ease makes for an easy rapport.
My knees used to shake when these conversations happened. Times when I connected with a fellow human being on a deep and meaningful level. I haven't noticed my knees shaking lately but my heart still recognizes the moment.
The memories of my mind rewind and replay ... the location where these deep and meaningful conversations have been inconsequential. In a parking lot, a quiet day at work, in a Tim Hortons coffee shop or a restaurant, to name just a few.
Stand-out moments can happen any place at all. Almost all the moments that stand out in my life all happened while I was living my day-to-day life and within a close radius of home. I didn't have to go any where, take in any special occasion or go looking for the best moments of my life. They simply unfolded when I was sitting quietly and the moments took care of themselves.
It is really no wonder I have little desire to travel. The best things in my life happen close to home. I have often said everything I need is right here under my very own roof. Although I have to leave the house to earn a living these days, everything I need to get through the next day at work is waiting for me at home.
The best things in life are not only free, they are closer than you may think. Sometimes, just sometimes all we have to do is sit quietly and simply let life unfold as it is meant to be.
We can't plan, predict or choreograph the best moments in our life. They are a little like watching a butterfly. You just sit quietly and let things happen without forethought or expectations.
Moments could be a "sitting in a sunbeam" kind of feeling where everything in that precise moment in time comes together and provides you with peace and clarity.
Moments could be a conversation that unfolded easily, personal truths are revealed and held tight and a sense of trust and ease makes for an easy rapport.
My knees used to shake when these conversations happened. Times when I connected with a fellow human being on a deep and meaningful level. I haven't noticed my knees shaking lately but my heart still recognizes the moment.
The memories of my mind rewind and replay ... the location where these deep and meaningful conversations have been inconsequential. In a parking lot, a quiet day at work, in a Tim Hortons coffee shop or a restaurant, to name just a few.
Stand-out moments can happen any place at all. Almost all the moments that stand out in my life all happened while I was living my day-to-day life and within a close radius of home. I didn't have to go any where, take in any special occasion or go looking for the best moments of my life. They simply unfolded when I was sitting quietly and the moments took care of themselves.
It is really no wonder I have little desire to travel. The best things in my life happen close to home. I have often said everything I need is right here under my very own roof. Although I have to leave the house to earn a living these days, everything I need to get through the next day at work is waiting for me at home.
The best things in life are not only free, they are closer than you may think. Sometimes, just sometimes all we have to do is sit quietly and simply let life unfold as it is meant to be.
Monday, May 6, 2019
It's Been a Long Week
You know you may be in for a long week when Monday feels like a Friday.
Honestly. Where did the weekend go?
I'm not even kidding. Is this the beginning of a brain altering disease when it feels like Friday evening morphed into Monday morning without a break in between?
On the plus side, if today felt like Friday ... maybe tomorrow will feel like Saturday. I wonder if anyone would notice if I just stayed home.
Honestly. Where did the weekend go?
I'm not even kidding. Is this the beginning of a brain altering disease when it feels like Friday evening morphed into Monday morning without a break in between?
On the plus side, if today felt like Friday ... maybe tomorrow will feel like Saturday. I wonder if anyone would notice if I just stayed home.
Saturday, May 4, 2019
Too Good to be True?
I was living through some particularly challenging moments yesterday when the constant "ding" "ding" "ding" coming from my cell phone let me know there were people outside of the moment I was in, reaching out in some capacity to tell me things.
When I had time, I peeked in at these messages to find:
When I had time, I peeked in at these messages to find:
- my uncle was home from the hospital and his support systems were rallying and grateful to hear this good news
- my middle son asked if he could spend the night as he was going to be in the neighborhood and it made good sense to save himself some travelling time
- I received an email telling me this same son sent me tickets to see "Oprah Winfrey Presents: Your Path Made Clear" ...
- messages from both of my sisters confirming details about coming to see my youngest son's debut acting performance this week
- an invitation to join my sister to see Cher
Are you kidding me?! An invitation to see Cher AND Oprah?! AND another Sister Sleepover so close on the heels of our last sibling gathering? AND my uncle has rallied after several recent hospital stays and is back home! AND my son was coming to spend the night as the icing on the cake. As if the cake wasn't already sweet enough on its own AND didn't already have enough icing to begin with?
It was a day I feel like I dreamed up as I went along.
Finally, as I was walking across the parking lot leaving one job, to cross the street to go to my second job when not one, but TWO rabbits hopped across my path then stopped in the middle of the road for me to have time to admire them before they headed for safer ground.
Mom isn't in my thoughts and head in an all consuming kind of the way these days. I still think of her often, feel her within me, speak of her whenever it is fitting. But I don't feel, see and yearn for "signs" of her presence. It felt like those two rabbits were meant to draw my attention, think of Mom, feel her presence and think of what she would be telling me if I was talking to her right now.
Then I went to visit my aunt ... and I could hear Mom's voice within my aunt's words. I just laughed and told her "That is exactly what Mom would say..."
Do we find whatever we are looking for in life? Do we make things up along the way to corroborate the story we are creating in our mind? Do we get back what we put out into the world and simply feel surprised when good things happen?
I am a big believer of karma and the energy of what you give comes back to you, whether it be a good or a bad thing. I haven't been feeling incredibly positive lately, I'm not at my best and I don't feel like I've been as generous as I should be with what I'm giving to the world. The only positive thing I can say is that I'm doing my best.
Maybe my best is enough. I am being encouraged as my make my way along. I'm even being drawn to cross the street into Part II of my day, with two rabbits leading the way.
Yesterday felt like it had the potential to bring me to my knees and it ended up being a day that was filled with so many small gifts, blessings and signs it simply felt like it was too good to be true. Am I making this life up as I go along?! Honestly! Invitations to see Cher AND Oprah?! Are you kidding me? This IS too good to be true!
Friday, May 3, 2019
New Season, New Thoughts
With the onset of spring, comes the thought of exterior house maintenance. Home ownership and I have waged our battles over the course of the past 25 years. I don't know which side is winning because just when I think I'm ahead of the game, regular wear and tear takes its toll and I'm back at the beginning again.
Our interior, main floor renos went so well I am looking outside and seeing all that needs to be done (and should have been done several years ago). Shingles, soffit, fascia and painting. It sounds simple, doesn't it? Simple doesn't necessarily equate to cheap.
We lived here nine years before I bit the bullet and had the exterior of our home painted and replaced the shingles. I remember saying at the time "The next time the house needs to be painted, I'll replace the soffit and fascia. The time after that, I will get maintenance free siding."
Well, it is sixteen years later and it's time to live up to my long overdue promise. Paint with a side order of soffit and fascia please. Oh, and for fun let's just toss in some new shingles. Shingles are actually where we need to begin.
I'm no fool. I know this will trigger more costs, more spending and more updates.
I gazed at our the rusty railing on our front door step and asked my son's opinion. Paint or replace? I was speaking of the railing only. He looked at the doorstep and stated he thought the entire step should be replaced.
One doorstep at a time.
First the shingles. Then the eaves. We will work our way down and see what is left at the end of the money.
I think I will replace our mailbox and house numbers though. Those are additions I can live with.
Spring has sprung and it has unloaded a heavy burden on my budget. As exasperated as I feel at this moment in time, I uttered the words "I'll get the house all fixed up, sell it and retire to a cheaper housing market ".
It's food for thought. But the more the house is updated, the more I like it. I will probably stay. At least until the dawn of a new season.
Our interior, main floor renos went so well I am looking outside and seeing all that needs to be done (and should have been done several years ago). Shingles, soffit, fascia and painting. It sounds simple, doesn't it? Simple doesn't necessarily equate to cheap.
We lived here nine years before I bit the bullet and had the exterior of our home painted and replaced the shingles. I remember saying at the time "The next time the house needs to be painted, I'll replace the soffit and fascia. The time after that, I will get maintenance free siding."
Well, it is sixteen years later and it's time to live up to my long overdue promise. Paint with a side order of soffit and fascia please. Oh, and for fun let's just toss in some new shingles. Shingles are actually where we need to begin.
I'm no fool. I know this will trigger more costs, more spending and more updates.
I gazed at our the rusty railing on our front door step and asked my son's opinion. Paint or replace? I was speaking of the railing only. He looked at the doorstep and stated he thought the entire step should be replaced.
One doorstep at a time.
First the shingles. Then the eaves. We will work our way down and see what is left at the end of the money.
I think I will replace our mailbox and house numbers though. Those are additions I can live with.
Spring has sprung and it has unloaded a heavy burden on my budget. As exasperated as I feel at this moment in time, I uttered the words "I'll get the house all fixed up, sell it and retire to a cheaper housing market ".
It's food for thought. But the more the house is updated, the more I like it. I will probably stay. At least until the dawn of a new season.
Thursday, May 2, 2019
New Day, Different View
I write here within my sheltered and quiet little world then drive off into my day and think about what I have written.
My morning thoughts are the most unfiltered words of my day. This can be good or it can be bad. Quite often, the words are simply the seeds of ideas which I wake up with and they grow throughout the day.
Yesterday, I wrote about the adjustment period I'm going through after I switched bedrooms a few days prior. I wrote of the minor inconvenience of having to change my routine and find my new normal.
Then I drove into my day where I hang out with friends who could be my mother.
I spend my days in and around seniors who have moved into retirement residences. They are living independently but they have packed up their lifetime and moved it into smaller quarters, into a city which has not been their home and they have readjusted their lives to fit into their new surroundings.
They have done this willingly and on their own. There are support systems in place and they aren't alone in trying to make this change. But the change is huge.
Everyone's situation is different and each person adapts in their own way. A person who has spent a good portion of their life moving to different locations may adjust easier than one who settles in and makes one house their forever home.
I can't help but think of Mom and our wish that she would have decided to move back close to her family home so she could be nestled in and among family and old friends. She often said "If only I could pick up this house and move it ..." she may have considered the notion.
Moving locations is one thing. Uprooting your life and moving an entire lifetime of belongings into a smaller space is another.
The thing "all of the above" has in common is the ability to choose. Feeling in control of your life, where you are and how you live is one of our greatest gifts. I cannot help but think of those who are unable to make those very same choices. When a health situation changes circumstances and others have to make that choice for you.
This brings me to Dad. He suffered a severe brain injury after a massive heart attack and he was at the mercy of those who made necessary choices for him. As dire as this situation sounds, he was still one of the fortunate ones. Mom made decisions in Dad's best interest. A multitude of thoughts waft through my mind as I write these words but most importantly, even though he never came home again he was not alone.
I think of those who are not so fortunate. Those who find themselves in a situation where changes must be made but they don't have a support system in place to advocate for them, walk with them and most importantly sit beside them as they adapt to a life that was not of their choosing.
I think of the variety of ways we lose our ability to be in control of our own destiny. To maintain one's health is a blessing. To hold onto our memories, our ability to communicate and live within a body that allows us to live independently is a gift beyond words.
As I navigate through the minor changes I voluntarily make within this sheltered little life I lead, I must remind myself how fortunate I am. I walked through this morning with an entirely different perspective. I feel like I am living in a whole new home and all I had to do to accomplish this was move a few belongings upstairs.
I have an entirely new view of my world and I didn't even have to leave home to find it. Sometimes a new perspective is the best thing one can find.
My morning thoughts are the most unfiltered words of my day. This can be good or it can be bad. Quite often, the words are simply the seeds of ideas which I wake up with and they grow throughout the day.
Yesterday, I wrote about the adjustment period I'm going through after I switched bedrooms a few days prior. I wrote of the minor inconvenience of having to change my routine and find my new normal.
Then I drove into my day where I hang out with friends who could be my mother.
I spend my days in and around seniors who have moved into retirement residences. They are living independently but they have packed up their lifetime and moved it into smaller quarters, into a city which has not been their home and they have readjusted their lives to fit into their new surroundings.
They have done this willingly and on their own. There are support systems in place and they aren't alone in trying to make this change. But the change is huge.
Everyone's situation is different and each person adapts in their own way. A person who has spent a good portion of their life moving to different locations may adjust easier than one who settles in and makes one house their forever home.
I can't help but think of Mom and our wish that she would have decided to move back close to her family home so she could be nestled in and among family and old friends. She often said "If only I could pick up this house and move it ..." she may have considered the notion.
Moving locations is one thing. Uprooting your life and moving an entire lifetime of belongings into a smaller space is another.
The thing "all of the above" has in common is the ability to choose. Feeling in control of your life, where you are and how you live is one of our greatest gifts. I cannot help but think of those who are unable to make those very same choices. When a health situation changes circumstances and others have to make that choice for you.
This brings me to Dad. He suffered a severe brain injury after a massive heart attack and he was at the mercy of those who made necessary choices for him. As dire as this situation sounds, he was still one of the fortunate ones. Mom made decisions in Dad's best interest. A multitude of thoughts waft through my mind as I write these words but most importantly, even though he never came home again he was not alone.
I think of those who are not so fortunate. Those who find themselves in a situation where changes must be made but they don't have a support system in place to advocate for them, walk with them and most importantly sit beside them as they adapt to a life that was not of their choosing.
I think of the variety of ways we lose our ability to be in control of our own destiny. To maintain one's health is a blessing. To hold onto our memories, our ability to communicate and live within a body that allows us to live independently is a gift beyond words.
As I navigate through the minor changes I voluntarily make within this sheltered little life I lead, I must remind myself how fortunate I am. I walked through this morning with an entirely different perspective. I feel like I am living in a whole new home and all I had to do to accomplish this was move a few belongings upstairs.
I have an entirely new view of my world and I didn't even have to leave home to find it. Sometimes a new perspective is the best thing one can find.
Wednesday, May 1, 2019
Adjustments
I'm not a big fan of change. Judging by the way our cat family have taken to the change of our bedroom, I would say changing where one sleeps says a lot about a person (or cat).
Night #1 - I felt like I didn't sleep at all. I tossed. I turned. I kept waking up. I felt unsettled. I missed the presence of our Senior Cat of the house (Ray). He didn't find his spot to sleep in my room at all that night. In fact, when I woke up one time I searched the house to find our missing cats. By morning,our Second Cat in Command (Jet) was resting comfortably at the foot of my bed.
Night #1 - I felt like I didn't sleep at all. I tossed. I turned. I kept waking up. I felt unsettled. I missed the presence of our Senior Cat of the house (Ray). He didn't find his spot to sleep in my room at all that night. In fact, when I woke up one time I searched the house to find our missing cats. By morning,our Second Cat in Command (Jet) was resting comfortably at the foot of my bed.
Night #2 - I slept better than the first night. Jet resumed his previous morning's resting spot quite early in the evening. Ray hopped up near my head and tapped me for a few middle-of-the-night head scratches. But for the most part, he was missing in action.
Night #3 - Ray was still pretty skittish about this new sleeping arrangement. He had grown quite accustomed to his spot in the far off corner of our king sized bed in our downstairs bedroom. This queen sized bed is quite an adjustment. Where is someone to sleep if they don't like to be touched, disturbed and can comfortably keep their eye on things from afar?
Morning #4 - I awoke to find Ray resting uncomfortably in a trial sleeping spot on the opposite corner of where Jet was snoozing.
I found myself sleeping diagonally across the bed to create a comfortable boundary for the two cats slumbering at my side.
A combination of the diagonal sleeping position plus a layering of pillows and not having the TV on throughout the night seems to be working for me.
Sleeping crosswise on the bed creates a safe space for all three of us. I am quite comfortable to find myself smack dab in the middle of our un-snugly cats. I have room to move without disturbing either one of them.
I stumbled across a magical combination of a memory foam pillow plus a down pillow which seems to be cradling my neck while supporting my head. I haven't woken up with a sore neck for two mornings now. This is heavenly.
The TV/DVD combo, minus a Netflix connection didn't work for me. Instead, I have been utilizing the Netflix channel on my phone which turns itself off completely when a show ends. No white light. No subliminal "hum" of an operational appliance left on. Silence plus the natural light of the rising sun, with a cat on each side of me is starting to feel good.
This adjustment has not been without its trials. But we are figuring things out.
Jet - is who I want to be. He assesses the situation, finds a new normal, is comfortable with that change and adapts quickly.
Ray - is me to the extreme. He likes security, routine and does not like his comfort zone not being violated. He assesses the situation and walks away. When he realizes this may be the new normal he checks things out and still walks away. When he is feeling a little antsy about the fact that he misses his old reality, he gently taps me on the head in the middle of the night for reassurance (or was that the night the cat food ran low - I can't remember for sure). When all else fails, he tries to adjust. It isn't easy. It isn't comfortable. He prefers the old way. But he tries.
Me - I reason myself through this adjustment and convince myself "change is good". I have an internal dialogue which is continually going back on forth on the pros and cons of the move. The biggest part of me is following the calling of the sun. I believe my moods are highly influenced by the moon. The whimsical part of me just follows the stars ...
I think I should follow Jet's lead. He doesn't think. He simply does what feels good. Ray does a little bit of that too. The reason I know this to be true is because within minutes of me opening the bedroom door and availing the space to our cats, this is what I found:
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| Jet - under the covers Ray - as close as he ever gets to snuggling (atop the covers and right beside Jet) |
It's a good move. Who ever said good is always easy. It is simply an adjustment to our norm. Ray and I have a bit more trouble with realigning ourselves with our new reality.
Adjustment periods are hard.
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