Gen-DriveThru

"Gen X"  is where I officially fall within the Baby Boomers, Millennials and the Gen-classifications. But as I wandered through my morning, I began thinking that I belong to the Gen-Instant-Satisfaction era.

Drive-thru restaurants where you don't even have to get out of the car to enjoy a meal you didn't have to make has now been expanded to ordering groceries online and popping the trunk to let someone else load the groceries they have selected, scanned and then deliver/load right into the trunk of the car. Shopping online, where all you have to do is wait for the delivery date of said item. Phone appointments with anyone who doesn't need to physically see you. Instant access to movies, TV series and any number of things you may be interested in seeing are as simple as signing into your video streaming account, YouTube or any number of online videos available. 

Googling anything that has spurred my interest has become my most fascinating diversion. My most recent deep dive into the interwebs has been in search of Jane Fonda's quotes, interviews and books. I love listening to Glennon Doyle's podcast "We Can Do Hard Things" but have longed for a "Glennon" who is older than me. Someone who has experienced what I have, as I hit my Third Act (as per Jane Fonda). Lo and behold, Glennon/Abby/Amanda interviewed Jane Fonda on their podcast last week and I think Jane is the mentor I have been looking for.

The moment Jane spoke of starting over again at age 62, I thought to myself "She gets it!! She has already waded through this phase I've hit!" I immediately reserved her book Prime Time from the library (reserved online, of course, and a quick in/out trip at the library through the self checkout was almost as simple as picking up groceries) and I started thumbing through it last night.

I haven't delved deep into the book yet but as I leafed through some of the chapters that caught my interest, my attention was drawn to the need to move/walk/exercise regularly to maintain one's physical health. Moving a little and continuing to live a sedentary life is not the solution. 

So walking alone is not my answer. Walking is good for my body and good for my soul. I can feel it with every step I take (except when winter walking conditions prevail). What I need to add to that recipe is to come home and continue to do something physical. Clean that room. Organize and cull those piles. Keep busy and moving. But (and here is my excuse) I have a bookkeeping job to do. Then I spend the supper hours sitting idle with a senior who finds it hard to move and walk freely.

I cannot blame my job(s) for my inactivity. It is a pretty good alibi but I am the one who is responsible for sitting idly in front of the TV or computer or couch in my down time.

Thus, I started thinking of my desire for a drive-thru, instant gratification option for my lack of desire and motivation to move and live life in a healthier fashion. Could I hire someone to come in and clean the house and organize my office? If only I could start from a clean slate, certainly I could maintain it.

If only ...

If only came and went three years ago. At the end of our home renewal (reno), "all I had to do" was keep on top of the cleaning/dusting/cat hair. When I started working from home when pandemic recommendations suggested work-from-home alternatives, I started with a perfectly clean and organized office. All I had to do was keep it up to date.

I had my clean slate and now it is all dusty, cat-hairy and the piles of papers in my office make my knees go weak.

Instant satisfaction is what I am craving. The answer is to pull up my socks and just do it. This aligns with Jane's advice to stop living such a sedentary life. All the stars have aligned. The answers are staring me right in the face. 

So why am I craving McDonald's so badly right now? Yes, I am officially one of the Gen-DriveThru era.

Good Morning! How are you??

I cannot seem to commit to daily writing these days. I'm not certain why. Not an overload of words lately. That is all.

And how are YOU?

How are you managing life-as-you-know-it these days? Days leading up into the season of festivities. Days where no matter what is going on in the world around us, we are still walking through our day to day lives making daily decisions as necessitated. Working. Living. Cleaning. Relating. Managing. 

I only peek at the news lately. The big news is too much to take in. All it does is provide me one more excuse to put off for another day, what I should have done a few years ago.

Does it really matter in the whole scheme of things?

I default to attempting to forecast my financial future and wonder about the stability of my income. It is all so very uncertain and daunting when I look beyond where I am at and look ahead too far. As much as I plan, life unfolds in its own way and in its own time. 

"Trust the pause" is my personal motto. When where I am isn't where I hope to be forever, I become impatient. The pause is there for a purpose. Use it.

I have retreated from life. COVID was my excuse and continues to be my best alibi for living small. My daughter has COVID, so I have happily accepted all the consequences that have come from that. When I know I will be in contact with people, I take another test (still coming up negative), I wear a mask and keep as wide a distance from myself and others as possible. 

Recently, I was walking through the grocery store - masked and distanced. I didn't make eye contact with people. I felt (and wanted to be) invisible. Until I met a person in the aisle and each of us kept moving out of the other's way and continued to be in each other's way for about four side steps. I finally said, "I'll just stay still so you can get around me". It was only in the aftermath of the encounter that I wondered if it was my cousin's voice that I heard as I kept my eyes averted and pretended to be invisible.

I have become so small, I feel like a speck within this universe. In reality, we are just specks in the whole scheme of things. In my most content years, I felt vital and alive within the little circle of friends and family who were my universe. Feeling like a speck is a symptom I have retreated too far within myself.

It is all within my power.

To work like my job has no end. To live healthfully as if I'm going to live to 100. To clean as if company may drop by unexpectedly. To reach out to people to refresh connections that matter so much. To structure my days in a matter where I am not simply managing ... but actually living my life.

I listened to Jane Fonda speak recently. At age 85, she is living a purposeful life and aspires to do everything within her power to leave this world in a better place than it's headed for her grandchildren. She spoke of doing a life review around the age of sixty and rebuilt her life-after-marriage at age 62. My age.

We are nearing the third year anniversary of a global pandemic which shut down and isolated the world. Three years. And I've never craved solitude more than I do right now. 

Curious and curiouser. Perhaps it is time to do a life review. Come out the other side of that and rebuild. Again. Maybe that is what "this" is all about.

And how about you? How are you managing these days? How are you feeling? Are you still dreaming of a future you are anticipating? Are you okay?

The more quiet I get, the more I wonder about others. Please take care out there. Reach out when you can. Let's rebuild our worlds. Again.

What's Good for the Car is Good for the Soul

Sometimes all we need is a good highway run. What works for vehicles can also do wonders for the human counterpart behind the wheel.

Some time prior to the need to switch over to winter tires, my "check engine" light came on. I hoped it would turn itself off but when that didn't happen, I was hopeful my mechanic would clear the warning, tell me it was nothing to worry about and send me on my way.

Unfortunately that was not the case. It was warning my fuel system was too rich - either too much air or fuel. Though it was something that needed to be tended to, it was okay to drive. My car would be fine for the five hour destination away from home. An appointment for a future date to repair this engine light warning was set for two weeks in the future, the first appointment available for my busy, reputable mechanic. C'est la vie.

I would have been more comfortable to head out on my mini-vacation without that check engine light taunting me all the way. I kept late hours during my time away and came home in the dark every night (which meant I stayed out past 5:00), the "check engine" light glowing brightly each and every night. 

Any time I felt anything slightly awry with my car, I cringed. I had brought along my mechanic's diagnosis so if the need arose for emergency resuscitation while away from home, I would be armed with information to make the repair as easy as possible. I kept hearing my mechanic's words on repeat in my head, "No, it will not strand you on the highway. It will be okay." 

After five hours of highway driving and three days of city driving, I headed my car in a homeward bound direction and was relieved my car made the trip. It would all be okay until I was back on home turf to tend to the needs of my rich fuel system and deal with the unbudgeted expense later.

I was halfway home when I glanced at my dashboard and noticed the check engine light was off. I stopped for gas, expecting it to light up when I restarted the car. Nothing. I assumed the light would come back on after a week of regular use. But it didn't.

My appointment date with my mechanic arrived and I called with the news of the warning light clearing itself. "Sometimes that happens. Maybe all it needed was a good highway run."

My mini-holiday was absolutely everything I needed and hoped it would be. I had an excessive amount of words building up within. If I came with a "check engine" light, it may have displayed a word system too rich error message.

Sometimes? All we need is a good highway run. What is good for our vehicle's fuel system can also be good for us. It may not be a cure all, but it is certainly worth a try.

Habits

It is so easy to fall back into old habits. Some habits are worth falling back into. Others? Sometimes it would be nice to replace a habit that is no longer serving you best with something better.

I thought getting up earlier was my answer. It was. For the first week. Then I became accustomed to those bonus hours and filled them up with things that felt like work. My bonus time became my new norm and I utilized those early morning hours well enough. But not in the manner I originally intended. 

Then I slipped into another time zone for a few days and all hope was lost. I started sleeping in. Again. 

I didn't want to step into the day. I was tired. I was cranky. I didn't like the forecast of the day's responsibilities. I slipped back into my old ways.

This morning my eyes popped open at 5 a.m. Bonanza!! I had laundry I wanted to get done; a house that needs vacuuming; followed by a shower and Boom! I would be ready for the day. It is almost 8 a.m. - three hours have passed in the blink of an eye and I still haven't taken the time to be still with my thoughts and write.

I seem to be filling myself up with "words" during my quiet time lately. My five hour drive for my mini holiday was spent listening to Remembrance Day programming one way and the narration of Alex Trebek's book on my way home. My quick trips to my little oasis away from home are about one "We Can Do Hard Things" podcast long. This (in my opinion) is quality programming. But I'm absorbing other people's words and continue to avoid thinking my own thoughts.

I keep falling back into wondering "who am I?" when I don't write, don't sing and dance to my favorite songs on the radio and when I turn off the buzz of all the outside connections that interrupt the natural flow of an old fashioned day. A day when the landline was the only way someone could call. A letter in the mail was the norm for keeping in touch with friends and family who live far away. Inviting friends and family to join me in some manner which would result in a face-to-face visit.

I want to turn back the hands in time to 2008. It was a time when I pealed back the layers of life that wasn't working for me and unearthed a life I was excited to live. It was a time when I immersed myself in family, family memories, family gatherings, invited people into my home or to go on an "adventure". It was a time I felt words oozing out my fingertips and I started writing here. It was time of beginning again. Beginning again was a result of an unexpected end to the life I was expecting. Beginning again was hard. But necessary. And so many good things came from shedding old expectations, examining the life I had and realizing I already had everything I could want.  

I believe a "radio silent" weekend is in order. Turn off my cell phone. Sign out of the Internet. A weekend to read, write and putter would be time well spent. I want to spend a weekend like it is 2008 again and unearth some good old habits.

Going Home Again

I did it! I have finalized and tweaked my upcoming three-day-vacation plans. I have contacted those I hope to see and set up some tentative times to meet. And I've given myself the gift of one extra night.

During the last of my visits with Mom, I offered to leave Monday morning and she readily agreed to having someone in the house one more night. That bonus day became exactly that. One more day. One more night. One more visit. 

I would leave nice and early Monday morning and be home in time to make it to my bonus job. Every weekend felt like a long weekend when I tacked on that extra night.

As I mapped out my plans for my visit back in Mom's old neighborhood, I hoped I would be able to arrange visits with those I've missed seeing (so much!) since the pandemic changed our world. It has always been my intention to keep going back to visit family and friends after Mom died. The year 2020 changed all of that.

I have maintained relationships with those-at-a-distance since I moved away from my old neighborhood 35 years ago. I became a loyal customer to Canada Post, weekly letters to Mom, occasional letters to friends, birthdays, Christmas, thank you and thinking of you cards and notes were second nature to me. Long distance phone calls were a luxury back in those days, before discounted long distance calling and long distance phone deals were invented. That didn't deter me. I could write to anyone at any time of the day or night and know my letter in the mail would not be an interruption in their day. It would sit quietly on its own and would be opened in due time. I wasn't an inconvenience to anyone. I loved those days.

Then came email. Instant receipt of my long winded letters in emails. Once again, I was quietly assured that my email would only be read when the recipient had time. Emails don't require an instant response though the turnaround time to send and receive an email certainly trumped the postal system. 

I could send out a number of emails at one time. "Send and forget" was my motto. I was very brave issuing invitations because I could invite a number of people at one time and there was no score keeping. I didn't take a non-response as an insult. I cast a wide net and those who were inclined, were free to join in. No expectation. No disappointment. I lived my glory days via email. It was a good time.

Then ... came cell phones. I didn't have the ability to send or receive texts on my first phone. Nor did I want that feature. Cell phones are for emergencies or when you aren't near a landline. I didn't want people to have my cell number because I considered my phone a call-out-only convenience. If I wasn't home, I didn't want to be talking on the phone.

Well ... all of that has changed. When I finally updated my old cell phone, my new one came with a cell phone package that included texting. This was back in 2010. I was still new to texting and though it was a novelty and kind of fun to send and receive instant messages, I wasn't entirely sold on the idea as a way of life.

I don't know how it happened. But it has. The convenience of texting and receiving instant gratification more often than not, I ended up being "one of those people" who utilized their cell phone as a regular means of communication. Whether I was home or not. 

The expectation of receiving an immediate response has changed me. Much to my chagrin, I have started keeping score. I love that I have friends and family who are known for only reading and responding to messages when it is a good time for them. No slight intended. They have kept me grounded and saved me from myself. As much as I fall back into the "I wonder why I haven't heard back...", I can talk myself down. Perhaps my message wasn't received. No time to respond. Maybe they simply forgot to reply or hit the "Send" button after thinking they had responded (I've done this on more occasions than I can remember).

Long story short, I have talked myself into believing I may not even have friends in my old neighborhood who are all that interested in visiting with me when I'm out. Just how much of a friend have I been lately? I don't call. I don't write. I don't reach out. Would I want to be my friend? Maybe my wish for isolation was granted [be careful what you wish for].

I sat still with those thoughts until they had time to marinade a little. It was a good reminder for me to be more of the friend I want to be. So I started reaching out to those who I hoped to see. And they responded. They like me! They still like me!! Even after I took COVID restrictions to the max and isolated myself ever so much longer than necessary.

 I can go home again!! And I will ensure I do my best to keep that door open.

Stay at Home Recommendations

Storm warning alerts bombarded my phone this morning. A winter storm watch has given me permission to stay home this weekend. Ahhh.

I love, love, love my little home-away-from-home. I tend to forget just how much I enjoy being there until I open the door upon my arrival. Then I fall in love with this little oasis away from home all over again. But I have been longing to just stay put lately.

Staying home is so simple. No preparation required. Cool winter weather, ice, snow and wind just make me want to hunker down and hibernate. 

I have felt a warm and welcome invitation to winter this year. Shortened days equate to less expectations. Cool weather makes my cozy winter socks feel like a warm hug. Winter weather conditions dictate stay-at-home recommendations. It is like COVID restrictions all over again. And I'm in. I'm ALL in!

I want to reserve my social and out-of-home energy for a mini-holiday (who else in the world calls a three day getaway a holiday?) coming soon. It takes extra energy to be "on" on a weekend. This energy is easily recharged when I'm around those who I am hoping to see while away. It will be exactly what I don't know I need. I can feel it already.

But this weekend? I am grateful for the recommendation to just stay home.

Life Hurts

When our bodies heal as they usually do and life resumes in an orderly fashion after being inconvenienced with aches and ailments that go away as they have done in the past, we are fortunate.

I have a recurring irritation that tends to heal itself but in the middle of the process I have started to wonder, "What if this is the time it doesn't go away?" It seems to be stress related and when my stressors subside so does my discomfort. What if those very stressors continued to stay on high alert?

In a valiant effort to save time, I was so very excited to book my flu shot and the latest COVID vaccination on the same day. The time it steals from my day is the biggest inconvenience but pretty painless all in all. Except when the day settles down and I stop moving my arms. Oooo. That hurt. I stretched and moved my arms until I went to bed and then I slept with a heated wheat bag which soothed me and my arm and served as a positive diversion from my attention to the pain which had found me. 

My hip started to ache at the tail end of a rather lengthy hike. That one kept me up at night. I stretched. I moved. I stretched some more. The next day it was not back to normal. I kept moving and carried on with my day. In the midst of this longer-than-usual discomfort, I wondered "Is this what starts to happen when one needs joints replaced?" I can't even remember if it lingered a little longer or not. Whether it lasted one day or two is not the point. The point is it fixed itself. I just kept moving and whatever may have been inflamed settled down on its own.

As I thought of recent minor ailments that have come and gone, this post was writing itself in my mind. Then it happened again. Out of the blue, after a completely normal day, at the day's end  my knee started to feel a little sharp pang (more like a ping) when I walked on it. I was careful not to irritate it but soon enough I was resting and soon asleep. End of story. Nope. I woke up this morning and the little pangs continued. Heat? No, my knee simply felt like it wanted a little support. I wrapped a tension bandage around my knee and if felt like a nice little hug. As I walked around and tended to my morning to-do-list, soon enough my knee was back to normal.

Sometimes I need to remove restrictions to avoid irritation. Other times I need a little constriction to feel a little extra support. Sometimes I can stretch it out. Other times a little extra heat does the trick.

I wonder if my minor maladies mirror what is going on with my mental state of being. Sometimes I feel too constricted. Other times I need bit of support. Sometimes I can keep moving and stretching my mind and my coping mechanisms. Other times I just need to cozy up and sleep it off.

In the middle of these discomforts I tend to forget they are temporary. My head knows this to be true but my inner child feels a little whiny and just wants to feel back to normal. Now.

Listening to our body. Listening to our thoughts. Listen. Try to feel what your body, mind and soul are telling you. This isn't a cure all but it is free of charge, no medicinal ingredients required and just another instance of sometimes having what you need is closer than you know.

I'm not a doctor. This is not professional advise. It is simply things that work for me when the chips are down. I think my body is doing just fine but my state of mind? It needs a little TLC from time to time.

Please take good care of yourself and let your body tell you what it needs. Call for medical advise when your body is screaming "Help!" but while waiting for relief see if your instincts are telling you how to manage things until medical aid is received.

Doing All the Things

Whew! I am so glad I know how to relax like a pro and grateful I stopped to pause when I did. Life has felt busy the past several days.

Saturday, I let the day slip through my fingers and savored every moment of it. It was a day of early morning errands so I wouldn't have to do any of those tasks in the days/week to follow. Followed by a day of mindless TV; easy eating; a little bit of snacking; and I was ready for bed shortly after 6:30.

"It's okay. You'll be glad you slept," I told myself as I headed for bed in the early hours of our long nights.

Sunday, I wanted to finish reading a book. So I did. I also wanted to get a head start on my work week. So I did that too. I had taken out hamburger so that had to be cooked. I knew Monday morning wouldn't be long enough so I prepared tuna salad for sandwiches the next day. I also knew I would be hard pressed to make time to wash my hair the next morning so I did that too.

Whew! It was a long, hard day but no regrets. Every single hard thing I did that day made room for Monday.

Month-end landing on a Monday is one of my most unfavorite things. What feels like a zillion things to do (in reality, probably between ten to twenty things), with the clock ticking every moment away. AND I somehow managed to book my COVID vaccination and flu shot Monday morning. As a rule, all of the hard end-of-the-month-tasks are tended to, by the 30th. So booking an appointment on the 31st isn't an unreasonable choice to make. C'est la vie.

Never again, but I got all the things done.

I soon realized my appointment to donate blood was today. The first of the month. Again, not normally unreasonable thinking to book such an appointment. When I realized the errors of my ways, all I could think was "It will be nice to get all of that done and over with so quickly". It will be, but this morning's morning tasks were doubled up with my own personal month-end-accounting and banking and figuring. 

The clock is ticking and I must get out the door. All the things will be done before noon today. 

I get to celebrate my success by taking my aunt to her quarterly appointment at the lab.

Fun times never end. Tomorrow, I will be on easy street again.

It's a good thing I rested. 

Feeling Reflective

It is a "third cup of coffee" kind of day. I have frittered away my bonus morning hours reflecting and rereading my own words. It is no wonder we find such solace in relationships where we speak openly and honestly and are "real". I find comfort simply rereading my own words. 

I was reading between all the lines of what I wrote, recognizing the truths known only to me that are woven into the general stories I retell here. I am longing to physically remove myself from my reality and put some distance between real life and find a renewed perspective.

I miss my visits with Mom. During her final year, I made the five hour road trip regularly. Five hours to be still with my thoughts. Five hours to distance myself from my regularly scheduled life. Days with Mom where we visited for hours on end and Mom said all the motherly things my sister now says.

It is no wonder I find such solace in my little weekend oasis an hour out of the city. Not as much distance but gas prices have inflated to a point where one hour of driving is nearing the cost of my five hour drives six years ago.

A place to call home and share conversations where I hear Mom's voice echoed back and forth between my sister and me. Ahhh.

I'm planning to go "home" again soon. I have found a place to stay in Mom's old neighborhood. I have enough AirMiles accumulated to subsidize the gas prices. I have accumulated points on my credit card to cover a little frivolous spending and dining out. I am hoping for weather mild enough to wander the streets and back alleys where I grew up. I have family and friends to spend my time with and even the luxury of inviting them to my little home-away-from-home.

What used to be a regular old trip has become a vacation. I am longing for the sense of peace I get when surrounded by my past with a good dose of presence of people I feel so close and comfortable with.

Hanging on By a Thread

Life is fine. I'm doing okay. All is well enough within the confines of my small little world. But am I the only one who feels like I'm just hanging on and dangling by a thread until the next wave of the unknown hits?

Ever since the COVID pandemic stunned the planet with the ability to paralyze the world and leave no one untouched by the effects, I have a feeling I'm not alone with the unsteadiness of the ground beneath my feet.

On a personal level it is the unknowns that lie before me that have stopped me in my tracks. I'm regaining my footing but I'm ever wary of each forward step I take. It's like descending a staircase in the dark. Tentatively putting one foot out and feeling for the security of the next step while the other foot is on solid ground. All-the-while, holding onto the banister just in case the stairway gives out.

Work. Family. Health. Finances. Future. These are the things that will forever remain tentative and subject to change.

I marvel at my good fortune. All of the above is stable and I have faith all will work out in the end no matter how much I attempt to plan. 

I feel like I'm living in the state of "before". "Before COVID"; "Before" all the life changing situations which seemingly happened out of the blue but there is a distinct divide in the "before" and "after" timeline.

Hanging by a thread. More like a spider's web. Caught up in my thoughts more than anything at all. 

Everything is okay. I'm just wary of the ground I'm standing on. Feeling a little like I'm finding my way through a house of mirrors. The secret is to look at the ground. Keep grounded. 

I had no idea I was going to write this. Not sure where this came from. It all started with the feeling I was walking into the day hanging on by a thread ...

Time Warp

Time has a magical way of ticking away no matter if one is sleeping or awake.

I started waking up early enough to give myself two bonus morning hours. The first few days were magical. Every time I looked at the clock, I patted myself on the back. I would have still been sleeping at this time last week. Each extra morning minute was a blessing.

Then life happened.

I started "doing all the hard things" so when my work day began, I had no tasks, phone calls, follow-ups or chores left. I opened my office door and worked with little distraction. I got things accomplished, in and out of that little office.

Then technology failed me.

I have oh-so-many tales to tell. One issue resolved is filled up by the next which had been silently waiting in line. I ticked off the boxes, fixed all I could fix myself and called for help when necessary. What would have buried me back in my early days of "computering" was managed sufficiently. 

Then came the challenges I brought on myself. "Oh no! The dishwasher isn't working right!!" I had forgotten I had run a rinse cycle the last time I used it; changed the settings; fixed. "Oh no! The kettle isn't working either!!" I had forgot to turn it on. "Oh no!! The microwave won't work!!" That one required outside assistance in the form of a might handy son. "Oh no! I can't sign into [something I set up last week]" I was accessing the account from the wrong site. 

Sometimes? We create our own havoc.

Yesterday, all was going according to plan. Until it wasn't. A phone call that was supposed to be a cut and dried answer and fix to my dilemma took an hour before I had to abandon ship and tend to incoming work calls and text messages. 

When the going gets tough, the tough get going. So I left.Two prior unsuccessful attempts to make bank deposits for my employer resulted in my decision to make this deposit close to home at (what I thought would be) a time when the bank wasn't busy. A chivalrous young person opened the door for me to enter and I repaid the favor by ensuring they got their place in front of me in the non-existent line. Their turn arrived swiftly. Mine didn't. Ten minutes in line. Five minutes with a new teller learning the ropes. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I had barely left home when the "check engine light" came on. Today? Really? Why do things feel like they compound on an already challenging day?

Another busy day at the office resulted in my mind pinging from one task to the next, fielding tasks which used to fall outside my realm of duty. Talking on the land line, when my cell phone rings is becoming part of my new reality. It happened again. And again. 

Finally, finally, finally!! The end of my day was nearing when I received an important call back in regards to my second job at the EXACT moment my son walked in the back door. I had to abandon (what I assumed would be) a brief face-to-face encounter with family, for the sake of duty.

Sigh.

I toyed with the idea of stopping at the store and picking up some chips at the end of my very long day (made even longer by getting up two hours early!), but talked myself out of it. I just wanted to go home.

How would the day have unfolded if I hadn't gotten up early? How did those hours vanish into thin air? Would I have maintained my sense of peace without those bonus morning hours? Perhaps not.

Even when one grants themselves a little extra time it often gets lost as the day progresses. If something you do brings a sense of calm into what may or may not become a hectic day, do it anyway. You deserve it.

Footprints in the Snow

I am feeling oddly giddy about the season we are in at the moment. Darkness lingers longer in the morning allowing me to pad about our dimly lit house with a sense of peace. Night arrives sooner which coincides nicely with my personal preference to power down early. And our first dusting of snow has reminded me of what I love about the upcoming weather ahead. Footprints in the snow.

I have stopped window-gazing lately so I haven't been spotting our neighborhood rabbits as regularly as I did once upon a time. But I have seen the odd one so I know they are there. There is simply no evidence of their presence.

Last night, my daughter arrived home after dark and told me to check out the oddly suspicious "rocks" in the neighbor's yard. Rocks? I was not in the rabbit mindset so it took a minute to clue into the fact there were rabbits next door. One big one and a small one.

What a happy moment it was as I gazed at what I am almost certain was a mom/baby combo. The baby was facing Mom, ever watchful of her movements. Baby tried to be still like Mom but its youthful exuberance trumped the "rock" pose and baby ran a small loop around Mom and eventually landed back in the same rabbit print in the snow. This happened twice before Mom decided it was time to move on. Baby leapt at the opportunity and raced across the street. Mom was in hot pursuit and they were checking out yards out of my view when I lost sight of them.

Ahhh! It is the season when even if I don't actually spot the rabbits, they leave evidence of their presence. Even when we have faith in what we cannot see, it lightens the spirit just a little more to see proof that what we believe to be true is fact.

Math Nerd

 It is a very good feeling to wake up early on a Saturday morning. What is most surprising to me is that I would actually opt to continue working today if I didn't have other plans. 

My work week ended on a good note (two uninterrupted work days resulted in two days tending math puzzles and spreadsheets which are my idea of fun). I actually have the desire to open my office door and carry on with my little math projects this morning (how does one define "nerd"?).

I tackled hard things within my home office setting this week and tamed the demons I knew were waiting for me bright and early Monday morning. There is nothing like slaying dragons to boost your adrenaline and enhance one's confidence level.

Oh, how those untamed dragons can deplete us. To run and hide from them takes an onerous amount of energy. To armor up, plan one's defense and take forward action? Exhilarating!

Numbers and me go back to my humble beginnings. I can picture Dad sitting at the kitchen table 'figgering' on paper and with his trusty little Arithma calculator ...

What I wouldn't give, to sit across that very kitchen table and talk with Dad again. "Whatcha figgerin', Dad?"

I feel a little less nerdy and a little more connected to myself and my genealogy when I remember Dad and his business sense. When I went through Mom's papers after she died, I found oh-so-many of Dad's calculations. His writing. His numbers. His thoroughness (I have the ledgers where he accounted for every penny spent, down to the cost of screws, for his farming deductions). I couldn't keep everything but I kept some.

I liked math in school. It made sense. Once you knew the basics and added layers of information onto that, it was relatively simple stuff. Black and white. Balance to zero. Checks and balances. Something I am always looking for within this little life of mine when I feel like I am on shaky ground.

If I hadn't gotten married and had a child as soon as I left home, I most likely would have chosen to pursue an education in accounting. What happened instead, is I became a bank teller and my career fell into my lap in the way it was intended.

Accounting and accountants without the personal touch of customer contact, face-to-face encounters and getting to know the story behind the numbers is not me. I didn't know this when I was 18 years old and entering the world of banking. I was shy and awkward. Customer contact was a skill I had to learn along the way.

My Grade Two teacher's comment in our school year book said simply, "Shy, except when she reads." Who knew this would translate into "Socially awkward, except when she works with numbers.", in my adulthood?

In my unwritten book "Defending My Life", I will defend my career path as the perfect fit for me. A mix of numbers and face-to-face interaction with customers taught me everything I needed to know. It was the foundation on which the rest of my working life was built.

A life of numbers without the personal touch isn't for me. Yes, you could lock me in a room with an Excel spreadsheet program and math puzzles to solve and I would be happy. But at the end of the day, I need my people.

No regrets. 

When you look back on your life, can you find the basis on which you built your "today"? Can you find solace in the choices made, which brought you to where you are? 

Even when the road is uncertain and one hits a few dead ends along the way, every detour has brought us to where we are right now. May you find comfort in knowing you are exactly where you are meant to be. Even when where you are isn't where you want to stay.

Cheating Myself

I love mornings. The time of day before the rest of the world wakes up. Everything I do is by choice because nothing is expected of me in those pre-workday hours. I revel in the quiet. That space is near and dear to me. Yet when I started slipping down the slippery slope of woe-is-me-ness lately, I see now, the first thing I abandoned was my precious morning time.

I turned on the repetitive loop of my Netflix favorites which lulled me back to sleep. Over and over again, until I could sleep no more. When I finally got out of bed, I felt the weight of the day on my shoulders which made it oh-so-hard to move. So I would turn on the computer or TV or any form of electronic diversion so I didn't have to think my thoughts. Doing the "hard things" that constitute my morning felt so very hard.

It isn't rocket science, but I finally figured out this small piece of the puzzle may be a good place to begin. Again.

I started getting out of bed by 5:00 a.m. or shortly thereafter. I would not allow myself to turn on my Netflix sleeping pill if the show would end after 5:00 a.m. If I woke up before that time, too bad, so sad. I would have to either fall back to sleep (if I was tired), lay there thinking my thoughts (if I didn't feel like getting out of bed) or simply get up. This was easier to accomplish than I imagined it would be.

The gains are so very well worth the loss of those two morning hours that I can never get back.

I expect little to nothing of myself in those bonus hours. By taking the burden of expectation off my shoulders I find myself puttering away at those little "hard things", to get them done and over with before the day expects something of me. Every little thing I cross off my small to-do-list makes every step forward easier.

I have not yet started writing to purge my thoughts before I start censoring myself, as Julia Cameron suggests in The Artist's Way (three handwritten pages as soon upon waking as one can manage). I don't enjoy listening to my uncensored self. I tend to be whiny, self absorbed, nit-picky, repetitive and weigh myself down with should-do's-that-rarely-get-done. Those morning pages may be cathartic but they haven't worked their magic with me. Yet.

Instead, I like to insert a little outside input (blogs &/or podcasts) into my thoughts and let that brew. I like to do a few mind exercises (word and number puzzles) and see if there are any morsels of insight that may trickle out my fingertips here. It's my personal formula, subject to change but it seems to be working. At least for now.

I love finding a podcast that speaks directly to me. More often than not, Glennon Doyle's "We Can Do Hard Things" podcast is a positive interaction (among Glennon, her sister Amanda and wife Abby) that fits the bill. The topics are thought provoking, their interaction is light and humorous and (very often) hits close to home.

I have so many Glennonisms that are my go-to-quotes and stories when I'm trying to find my way. When I speak, I often preface my sentence with "As Glennon says ...". In fact when my daughter was quoting one of my often repeated mantras to someone, she later asked "Was it Glennon or you who came up with that?"

The lower I feel, the less I can absorb. It is akin to too much rain falling on dry land. Nothing is absorbed. I'm flooded with that which should nourish my soul but nothing is seeping through the cracks. 

When I start my day early, there is enough of the dew from overnight to soften the soil which leaves a little more room to absorb the nourishment that comes from a morning shower of positive input.

When you know what works for YOU, do not deny yourself. Take back a little of what you know works, sit back and see if you can feel a difference. 

Defending My Life

The book within me that keeps writing itself is named "Defending My Life".

The theme of defending my thoughts, decisions, way of life and basically my entire essence has been the gift of daily, repetitive conversations with a person with a failing memory.

I can edit my answers on a daily basis. And I do. It started as a way of entertaining myself. To repeat the same answer on repeat is energy draining. So I started thinking deeper, looking further and wondering if what I always thought held true. 

It amazes me how the brain functions. Though no two situations are alike, what I realized about the person I do know is though the actual memories fade fast, the emotion tied to the lost memory lingers. 

I can almost be certain that when today's conversation rolls around to "What are you going to do when you leave? Who will you see? What will you do?" and my usual answers are "Nothing, no one, not a thing", what will remain from yesterday's conversation is "Why don't you like talking to people?". 

My 85 year old companion has a more active social life than I do. Activities in the condo she lives in begin at 7:00. In my world, 7:00 equals the end of my work day and all I want to do is go home, crawl into my pajamas and turn off the world. 

The feeling I have at the end of my day takes me back to my daycaring days. When the last child went home, I ceremoniously locked the door, closed the blinds and sighed a huge sigh of relief. I was done. I was depleted. I had nothing left. I was "closed for business".

My close of business has been extended from 5:30 p.m. (in my daycaring days) to 7:00 p.m. (in my current role). Physically, I do less than I have ever done. Mentally? I am spent.

I am "on" from the moment I open my office door. My bookkeeping duties vary by the day but that can change on a dime. One phone call, one email, one piece of mail can (and does) change the trajectory of my day. 

Best laid plans have been thrown out the window so many times that I have stopped planning. This is not a good thing. Angst is the word that describes the way I walk into far too many days. 

I close everything down at 3:30 to spend the supper hours with my senior friend. After being "on" all day, I am more than ready to turn myself off.

That is my defense. In reality, I think my priorities are skewed. I remember how energized I used to feel when ballroom dancing was my passion. I was transformed the moment I walked into the dance studio. I was so busy learning the intricacies of dance steps and technique there wasn't room for any other thought to enter.  I felt complete fascination and enjoyment in the moment I was in.

Passion. Laughter. Music. Movement. Physical contact. Challenge. Community. These are important elements for living a good life.

Ten years from now, will I have the ability to defend this portion of my life? Right before Mom died, she asked me about my ten year plan. She saw the writing on my wall. She foresaw this moment. I'm five years ahead of schedule. I should have aimed for a five year plan.

Life is full of ebbs and flows. I'm ebbing right now. This is not the end of my story. I'm back in the messy middle. Again.

I didn't think I would have to keep reinventing myself until the end of my days. I thought there would be a time of coasting. Perhaps that is exactly right. I have coasted for quite some time now. I'm sitting on a precipice and wondering which way to forge onward. There is no clear path. Only bush. 

Sitting on the edge of a choice is one of the most uncomfortable places for me. Especially when there is no defined choice. There is no decision that needs to be made. Keep coasting? Or seek the path hidden behind the bushes.

When I look back on this moment in time, I don't want to find a seed of regret that was planted because I was too scared to move.

Who Am I?

I may be having a late-life crisis. I don't know. I'm struggling. That is all I do know. Not struggling in a hard, life defeating way. Simply struggling to find the piece of myself that breathes life into my soul.

Writing has been the backbone of who I am, how I help myself, how I find myself when I'm lost and how to see answers unfold before me as I put words to the page. If I don't write, who am I?

I have always worked. Work always has its challenges no matter what I do, where I work or how I find a way to pay the bills. My work life has always been cyclical. I despise new jobs, not knowing what I need to know and struggling to meet the demands of a job. I love the middle. The part where I am comfortable, know my way around and I feel mostly satisfied at the end of a week. Then there is the end. The part where I'm searching, feeling "this" isn't right for me any more. Where do I go next? I have landed on my feet at the end of each one of these work cycles but I'm aging out and my desire to start a brand new job is nil. I don't want to start anew so I can't end this cycle. Maybe that is exactly where I am meant to be. Because if I don't work, who am I?

I am also nearing the end of my active parenting role. I will always BE a parent but my well worn phrase these days is, "I want to be a parent, the noun. I don't want to actively parent, the verb." I feel so ready to have my adult children show up on my doorstep (and vice versa) and just chat on a adult to adult level. We are all human, so there will always be the back and forth supportiveness that comes with the role of parenting. I will not abandon my adult children but I'm ready for each of us to live independently of each other. Once my last child leaves the nest and I find myself alone, who will I be if I'm not parenting?

I feel so ready to be done working yet the financial feasibility of living life without a regular paycheque is daunting. On days when anxiety rises to uncomfortable levels, I pull out my spreadsheets, update my net worth and try to guess what my financial needs will be when I stop working which stops me cold in my tracks. Working to age 70 and beyond seems to be the only consistent answer I come up with. Thus, the end-cycle of my present day work situation will most likely be followed by the need to start anew. I have fretted about my finances since I was a child. Always dreaming of how I would save up for the next goal, pay the bills, pay off debt, attempt to save regularly. If I didn't worry about money, how would I feel? 

Little stuff. The annoyance of cat hair verses the love of my favorite furry friends. If I didn't have cats, would I be content?

Home ownership and maintenance. The demands of owning a home are without end. I watch home renovation shows and long for low maintenance, minimal possessions, a four season sun room and convertible spaces to allow for overnight guests. City verses small town living. Having two homes to choose from, where would I choose to live? Where do I want to be to BE when I finish working?

I spent my entire childhood wanting to grow up. I grew up and discovered being an adult is hard work so I shifted my focus to the day when my children would leave home, I would be done working and living in a house that felt like home in every nook and cranny.

If all my wishes came true and I was living that idyllic life, who would I be when my days are not filled with what fills them up today?

Who WILL I be when I grow up?

No answers today. Only questions.

Anniversaries

Congratulations to all who have wedding anniversaries they are celebrating. 

Some couples are still united after a lifetime of creating a life together. Others have lost their life partner. Loss comes in so many forms. Death is the most final but divorce, dementia, deterioration of the relationship/body/mind/soul in a physical or psychological manner still result in loss of the life one may have dreamed of.

As I think of the wedding anniversaries I didn't celebrate due to divorce, a year doesn't pass when the date rolls around and reminds me of the life I thought I was going to have when I married over 44 years ago.

We were starry eyed and in love. We knew others didn't believe our marriage would last but we were determined to prove they were wrong. As we sat side-by-side on my husband's truck bench seat, we saw our future lives as two grey haired old souls still sitting side-by-side in any and all future vehicles we would own.

I remember how we laughed together. We spent a lot of time in that truck. Driving. Dreaming. Drive-In movies. Drinking. Dining at the A&W drive-in (insert vintage image of car hops with food trays that clipped onto the driver's window). Bush parties. Youthful shenanigans I never in a million years dreamed a nerdy girl like me would ever have.

Waiting for the phone to ring, back in the days when telephones were wired into a wall, before call display or answering machines. The anticipation of a call with a boy's voice on the other end of the line. My fearful attempts to call him. 

He drank too much. I thought it was just part of being young. There was one instance of foreshadowing our future while we were dating. It wasn't a huge deal but looking back, I now recognize the significance. 

We were young. We thought we could conquer our world together and tame the demons that seemed to rear their heads when alcohol was involved. 

The good times were incredible. Unfortunately the bad times matched the intensity of the good. Making up and the aftermath of the worst of times almost made it worth the pain involved to get to the other side. I was naïve and in love.

One of the most heartfelt gifts I gave my husband was a Zippo lighter - with a Lifetime Warranty. I promised I also came with a lifetime guarantee and would be around as long as the lighter. I thought if I could love him enough and reassure him of my unwavering commitment, he would become more of the person I fell in love with. [Foreshadowing moment I just realized - Zippo lighters come with a Limited Lifetime Warranty] Apparently my guarantee was also of a limited variety.

When we loved, we loved hard. When we hated, we hated with the same intensity. To say I loved him as much as I hated him at times, would be the truth. I knew the end had come when I simply felt indifference.

The young, starry eyed girl who fell head over heals with someone she thought she could heal by simply loving him wanted to honor those wedding vows "Til death do us part". But when a wave of consciousness of what that destiny would mean to two children raised in the-environment-that-was-our-marriage surfaced, I was done.

I doubt I would have seen the light if I was looking out for only myself. It was the vision of what our children would grow up believing was "normal" that bred the indifference I finally felt when I gathered up our children and left.

There was a deep sense of "knowing" I would die an early death within this marriage. By saving my children, I saved myself. And we (for the most part) lived happily ever after.

I missed being part of a couple. I loved being married. Being a wife. Building a future together. Looking towards the future and seeing "us" together until death parted us.

I raised our family. The scars our oldest carries due to his exposure to life-as-we-knew-it prior to the new life we created weighs on me. Our second-born child, an infant when we left, still had a less-than-ideal-childhood, but a childhood I can live with.

Yet, when wedding anniversaries become a topic of discussion, it is the memories of the life we truly believed we would build together that rises to the surface. Two people who believed their love could conquer all. I think of the toasted BLT sandwiches we made as we unloaded our groceries; the frozen fries I cooked in the oven while my husband ran out to buy KFC gravy to go with those fries so we could experience eating out on a budget; it is the times we watched movies together on our brand new VHS player; making up in the middle of the night and sharing a cup of tea. I remember how good it felt to be loved and to reciprocate that love in the only manner I knew. 

I believe he loved me as much as he was capable of loving. I loved him as much I could in return.

We were two young kids, believing we knew more than we did, drunk on love (whatever love is) and when life was good, it was very good indeed. We celebrated very few anniversaries together. Forever was not our destiny. But I never forgot the life we believed in. 

May your anniversaries carry the wisp of hope and vitality you brought into the forever-ness of  the future you believed in. Together or apart, those who have been important to us continue to live within us. Until death parts us. And beyond ...

I Miss Me

I have just spent the past hour revisiting old blog posts I've written. I stood up from the table and thought to myself, "I miss 'me' ".

I miss the part of myself who takes time to be still and let words freefall from my fingertips.

I miss long walks.

I miss being still with nature.

I miss my own pep talks.

I miss ... me.

Life is full of commitments, big and small. The drudgery of doing-what-must-be-done. Work. Being in a state of "on" as one navigates the world.

I come home from my day, immediately put on my PJ's, settle in front of the TV and savor the quiet hum and light emitted from the digital display. I have heard this is the equivalent of sitting down in front of a fire and I'm going with that. It appeases my soul to believe losing myself to an hour of television at the end of a committed day is good for me. The snacking food I opt to add into this equation? That's on me. 

If I'm not eating, moving or talking I fall asleep. I was missing out on the little pieces of enjoyment I used to savor when I decided to banish myself from mindless eating in front of the TV, reading or at the computer. My clothes sure fit better when I was eating "intentionally". I believe I even felt better. 

I have slipped back into old habits the past few months. Doing what it takes to get through the day. Rewarding myself with mindless eating in front of my "virtual fire" (aka: TV). I'm fine. But I could be better.

I needed to read a little pep talk from myself. 

As much as one thinks one may want advice, the only person who is in control of one's actions, thinking and motivation is yourself. 

I needed to hear my own words circled back to me and describe the me I most enjoy being. 

What is your inner voice telling you? What do you know that no one else can tell you? Personally? I think I need to go for a nice, long walk. Would you like to join me?

Tending to My Roots

I don't know what the formula is but waking up to a Monday morning in my little oasis away from home fills me up with words, the desire and time to write. What is the secret to this little pocket of time I have found?

My weekends are spent tending to life-in-my-oasis. There may or may not be a lot of human interaction. Either way, I wake up to a new week with an inner peace, energy and pep in my step.

Monday to Friday obligations deplete me. Expectations of myself, job requirements and housework that feels endless due to the (seemingly) infinite amount of cat hair in our midst. I love our cats ... I just wish someone else tended to the cat hair. It is no wonder robot vacuums were invented. I'd bet a quarter that the person who invented these vacuum cleaners owned a pet.

Back to the point now ...

Here in my little oasis, I tend to have a loosely based schedule. I know I will get dirty one day. Mowing our "lawn" is like stirring up a dust bowl. While already dirty, I tend to find something else to accomplish before I clean up for what remains of the day. Cooking will happen. I have the time, desire and energy to actually cook while I am here. Then I have food/meals to bring back with me, when I re-enter my regularly scheduled life where I don't make time for cooking.

It is a very family oriented time when I am in my home away from home. Sister-time; time to just enjoy the company of my adult children if/when they come to call; a few cousins; an aunt/uncle duo; the occasional sibling gathering; and a recent birthday celebration for my uncle was held one block away from my little weekend oasis.

My weekends are time to tend to my roots. My essential essence of who-I-am is here and I love nurturing that part of myself. 

Where do you replenish yourself? One doesn't have to go far to find what feeds one's soul. When I live my city-life, I find my peace within the walls I call home and right in my own back yard. Walks and time spent simply watching, listening and waiting for little moments Mother Nature has up her sleeve. 

Find a way to tend to your root system. Bloom where you are planted. Stop, look, listen to your world. Search for your peace wherever you may find it.

P.S. I'll bet you thought this post would be about coloring my hair. Nope. That ship has sailed. I'm all natural now and my hair is the color it was meant to be. 

Let the Dominoes Fall Where They May

July 21/22 7:28 a.m.:

One week ago, I wrote the post "Come Walk With Me". I wrote about my decision to take the better of two options as I navigated my early morning. This morning I chose the alternate options.

I woke up early and was eager to jump into the day so I skipped my morning stretches. Bad news: the effects of stretching are immediate. I was much less limber as I moved about and got dressed. Good news: the effects of stretching are immediate. Tomorrow morning, when I DO decide to take the time to stretch, I'll be right back where I was yesterday.

I opted to skip my walk in lieu of jump-starting my podcast/puzzle time with my morning smoothie. No nature stories to divert my attention and get out of my head a little. Straight to the business of puzzling and listening to other people's words before I listened to my own. I missed that space to just "be". 

I have a list of household tasks to accomplish today. Windows, vacuuming, washing floors, de-cat-hairing, a side order of dusting and an errand to run. I have bookkeeping work to tend but hope I can accomplish my home-work tasks while still keeping on my top of work-from-home agenda.

House work. Work from home. It is truly no wonder why I love my little weekend oasis away from home where it feels like real life doesn't exist for a few days.

I wrote these words, walked away and tended to (almost) all of the above.

And it was good. The energy I spend procrastinating is so much better invested just DOING one thing I want to get done.

Once I start something, provided I am not distracted by something that jumps the line, the domino effect of one thing leading to the next, the next, another and yet another little task is how I manage to accomplish what-must-be-done.

I crossed a lot of hard things off my list that particular day. I had one distraction I was able to easily tend to (something that has the ability to completely derail my intentions), but I got back on track. 

It was so much easier to wake up the next morning knowing I had accomplished what I had set out to do. It was easier to WAKE up, not so easy to GET up. Those stretches I neglected before I got out of bed? When my achy body woke me up in the middle of the night, instead of reaching for pain relief in the form of a pill, I did my stretches without leaving the bed. It was all I needed to get back to sleep and live to wake up and stretch another day.

Ahhh! Sometimes those ahhh-some moments find their way into your day in the most unexpected ways. Accomplishing something you have been putting off? Ahhh-some! Finding relief through stretching verses a pain reliever? Ahhhhh. Waking up the next morning with vim and vigor to tend to the few items left on that list? Ahhh! Then tackling your day job with that same vitality and tending to one more of those tasks that have been put on the do-another-day list? Ahhh [said with a huge sigh of relief]!!

What small action can you do today to bring a little bit of that Ahhh-someness into the moment? It doesn't have to be a big thing. Sometimes simply getting out of bed and getting dressed is a feat unto itself. Other times? ONE small step can lead to another and you may amaze yourself. If not today, another day. Let ONE domino fall and see where it takes you.

I Hate My Hair!

I woke up to a new-haircut-hangover recently. I could write a post about my hair but I'll spare you the details. The uncertainty of life-as-I-know-it has been bubbling over lately and I needed a release valve.

I was angered over every little thing that particular morning. Everything felt hard. I had no patience, coping skills were lost and I just wanted to be angry. So I picked on my hair.

I am feeling impatient as I want to fast forward through the next few years so I can be where I hope to be. 

I am feeling anxious about my ability to support myself for the rest of my days.

I am feeling frustrated about things that are out of my control.

I am feeling overwhelmed by the responsibilities of my Monday to Friday life.

I am doing my best but I am not at my best.

But, as it was with my recent haircut, I will do the best with what has already been done and time will take care of the rest.

Come Walk With Me

I slept in this morning and immediately ran through my options as to how to make up for my lost half hour.

I could skip my stretches. No. I will at least do one out of three sets. No. I did all three sets of stretches.

I could skip my walk. No. I will at least go for a quick walk.

I left the house with speed on my mind and I was almost oblivious to simply noticing the world around me. 

Until ... I thought I spotted a few rabbits from afar so I went out of my way to see what the two lumps of brownness were in the distance. As I neared the suspicious "rocks", I zoomed in my camera lens. With my bare eye, one of them looked like a tree stump until I saw the view through the camera.

I'm glad I snapped the photo when I did because these were a skittish pair and were ready to dart as soon as I made my way closer.

My mission was to at least do a quick walk-by of my new favorite nature watching spot. It rained last night so the birds appeared to be feasting on whatever bugs had to surface due to their flooded underground tunnels. There were eight pigeons (?) enjoying their breakfast meal.

I had tried to describe this man made water feature to my aunt yesterday and my words weren't enough for her to get a good picture in her mind as to what I was talking about. So I took this picture from the school playground. There are two schools sharing a very large school yard, each school has a large playground, tarmac and a large field to encompass all school related activities. What lies beyond the line of trees in the distance is a fenced off storm water retention pond which has attracted a few different varieties of birds which has caught my attention:

From the walking path, this is what you see:

As I circled around, to get a full view, this is the water feature from another angle. City surrounds it but it is just pretty (in my eyes):

There was only one pelican this morning. I don't know if I was too late and the other two flew off before I arrived or if they were simply in hiding. But I was glad I had one pelican spotting:

As I headed towards home, I turned back and took one final shot. The cloud cover in the sky was evolving throughout the series of pictures. I just found the sight peaceful.

I was on my last lap home when I saw a rabbit run across the street. One final rabbit sighting while home was in sight. 

Rabbits were the first and the last thing I saw on this morning's walk. A perfect little "sandwich" on a morning stroll I could have just as easily talked myself out of.

It was time to come home.

Air Show

When heading out for my walk this morning, I went directly towards the storm water oasis I have recently rediscovered. It did not disappoint.

Three pelicans were still swimming and I noticed one of them scooping up and swallowing something to eat while I was watching. 

The red winged blackbirds were the background accompaniment and continued to interact with at least one pelican when in a certain area of the pond. Are the pelicans swimming in their turf when these exchanges happen? The pelican nips at the bird in flight and they don't appear to be aggressive in their actions. But what do I really know? I'm just a quiet observer.

As I was circling the pond, looking for a better vantage point to watch the wildlife attracted to the water a large bird swooped high overhead. I was curious, as I believe it was the same unknown bird I spotted yesterday.

It flew off to a far away light post when I approached the pond but after some time passed, this same bird flew around and around the pond. I felt pretty fortunate and immediately wondered if this "bird of prey" (that was all this amateur birdwatcher could distinguish) was putting on a show just for me.

Wistful thoughts of Mom's comments on eagles and how she would love to soar like an eagle made me think of her and I wanted to believe her presence was close by. 

I desperately tried capturing the flight on video but nothing beats the naked eye to watch and marvel at a soaring bird.

My personal air show went on for quite some time and I was so glad I showed up to witness this special event that I was starting to believe was "just for me".

Then, the bird swooped into the pond and just as quickly flew off with a fish in its talons. It was heading north when I last spotted it. The air show wasn't for me. The hunting bird was gathering its breakfast meal.

The birds are watching me just as much as I'm watching them. This particular bird of prey perched atop a lamp post far away from where it was when I first spotted it. It is my guess that when it felt I wasn't a threat, that it came back to concentrate on its fishing expedition.

Ahhh. The moments I find when I'm close to home instill my personal belief that there is no place like home.

Breaking Patterns

Breaking a pattern can be as simple as changing ONE thing that sets you down a familiar path. This is sometimes exactly what one wants but is not always what is best.

I went for a walk bright and early this morning. I had a familiar, calming destination in mind. When I first set out, my thoughts were much of the same old, same old thoughts I've been recycling, reusing and ruminating on the past while. 

As I walked, I heard the pouty little voice inside my thoughts say, "There aren't any rabbits". A more hopeful side of that same voice reminded myself, "Maybe they are having their second batch of babies and the moms are in hiding". Then I tuned into my surroundings as I continued on my way and spotted one, then another rabbit. "There they are! You just have to keep walking and being mindful" the more level headed side of myself said.

I found myself at my favorite city watering hole (a man made storm water pond) which brings me back to earth and calmness envelopes me.

There were three pelicans swimming around. A duck flew in for a swim. Another large bird flew overhead (but didn't land) which reminded me of a Canada goose but it was some other bird. There were a red winged blackbirds singing their hearts out and interacting with one of the pelicans. 

                                         

I stood and marveled at the sight before me for at least fifteen minutes. Watching. Listening. Taking pictures and videos to capture the sights and sounds. It was heavenly. I thought of nothing but the moment I was in.

As I was leaving the area, I spotted a rabbit. Then a second one. The rabbits are still around. One just needs to be in a place where they like to hang out. 

As I made my way home, I reminded myself that sometimes what we are looking for is as close as our own backyard or neighborhood. If one can't find peace within themselves at home, it may be a futile effort to go seeking it elsewhere.

My thoughts were familiar yet brought back to life as I walked this morning. I came home feeling revived and refreshed.

Then what did I do? I settled right into my familiar routine. I made my breakfast smoothie, tuned into my favorite podcast, did my puzzles, signed into my work computer ... and the spell was broken. Poof! Back to real life. Back to the books.

Change ONE thing upon returning home. Grab a cup of coffee and sit in my own back yard. Grab something to write with and just let the thoughts flow out of my head and onto the page. Take time to pause before taking a dive into the deep end of life.

Work. Life. Responsibilities. They are unavoidable. I believe they are best managed if we take care of our soul a little first and foremost. 

Break ONE pattern. Allow yourself to immerse yourself in a moment. I highly recommend nature, even if only to stop and gaze out the window and see what appears if you watch long enough. The process may not work miracles but it just may reroute your thoughts into your inner wisdom, hopefulness and a renewed perspective before the realities of the day must be met.

Don't Overthink It!

It was a small thing. But it worked out so well I must write it down before I forget to remind myself of the lesson learned: Don't overthink it!!

I was having the laziest of lazy days. I had prepared food in the fridge and there was absolutely no need for me to cook anything for supper. Suddenly, I popped up and decided to throw some baby potatoes and chicken in the oven. Just as quickly, I sent off a supper invitation.

I cleaned up and suddenly wanted to send a P.S. to my invitation. "Sorry. I didn't mean to sound so desperate. Just come if you want"; "No need to say yes" and a myriad of other explanations for my spur of the moment invitation.

I didn't receive a reply instantly which allowed me to doubt myself even more. Oh well. I'll have good leftovers for tomorrow. It's all good.

Then came the reply. My invitation was not only accepted but it was very well timed as there was no supper on their agenda. 

I threw together a last minute salad, seasoned with anticipation of company and just a real good feeling about how a quickly thrown together meal fit so perfectly into the day.

The meal tasted ... good! Everything tastes better when shared with a friend (or family). A quick spur of the moment action resulted in exactly everything I could have ever hoped for. And more.

I could have so very easily talked myself out of all of the above. What a wonderful way to wind up a weekend. Not overthinking. Just doing. I highly recommend it!

Time to Begin Again

I fell off the wagon. Living an intentional life sounded so attainable. True to myself. Perfect for me. But it was harder than I thought. 

I coasted for a week. Coasted in every way possible. One would think that would refuel me in much needed ways. One would be wrong.

I have been socializing more than usual. "Peopling" wears me out. Being attuned to nature where all I have to do is show up, watch, listen and appreciate what is set before me is what fills me up when I am running on empty. 

There is nothing hard about tuning into one's surroundings, looking outside the window, stepping onto the back doorstep and breathing in the day. Yet I have not succeeded in that one small thing.

It is a new day, a new week, a fresh new start. It is time to try, try again. Forgive myself for slipping and get back on the wagon.

Forgive myself and take the next step forward. Rinse and repeat. Words we could all live by?

Body Heal Thyself

The longer I live, the less I take this body for granted. The more often I hear of those whose body has started faltering and not working the way it used to, the more often I recognize and silently thank my body for simply doing what it has always done when it heals or recovers.

I once took an anatomy class and learned how each of our body organs has a purpose and if one organ is in jeopardy, the body automatically does what it can do to protect the major organs or take what it needs from other body functions to take care of what is in need. Hypothermia, burns, pregnancy all come to mind as I type those words. 

The more I learned about anatomy and how one organ failing could trigger a chain reaction that could either save a life or end it, I felt it was nothing short of a miracle when I awoke the next morning and everything worked as expected.

Growing older is something we all must adapt to one way or another. I find myself surrounded by people late in life (the result of finding myself later in life than I used to be) and I am accumulating a small wish list of what I hope for as the years unfold. Sometimes our state of mind can influence the state of aging but there is only so much we can control.

My sisters recall Dad commenting that with a heart attack (which he was genetically inclined to have), you go fast. Not like cancer where one could linger on. Sounds black and white. Until one has a major heart attack and is brought back from the brink of death without oxygen to the brain for longer than the brain can recover from. No one saw that coming.

Life is like that. We cannot become consumed in all of the ifs, ands and maybes. We can only deal with what we have and live our days as best as we can. When we wake up ready to face the day in manner we have become accustomed to, we are beyond fortunate. I am grateful for what I have. But I am equally sorrowful for those who are fighting to regain their equilibrium. 

Body heal thyself. It is but a small wish I wish for you. Today and all days.

Best Under Pressure

I stepped into June knowing it would be a tough month. I had a job to do and there was no option. It had to be done. And it was.

As busy as I knew the month would be, I added more to my personal to-do-list than I have done in a very long time. I got up early so I had time to walk, do my puzzles, write and tend to a few things around the house before I opened the door to my work-from-home day job. I went to my second job after that. Then wound up the day early, satisfied with what I had accomplished in the day.

Then all deadlines were met. And I crashed.

I have taken up sleeping in and all but given up walking. After a long, hard month at my work-from-home-job with no holiday in sight, I deemed this week a "mental holiday" break. I have done what must be done. I am home and available to take all calls and manage whatever work may come my way. But I'm resting my mental muscle and coasting.

It feels like the perfect holiday. 

Except the minute I don't have (what feels like) a million things to do, the smallest of jobs I normally squeeze into my regularly scheduled life feel onerous. 

There is a saying that goes something to the effect of "If you need something done, ask a busy person."

How true it is. Last month? I was conquering my world. This month is officially one week old and I am barely managing my world.

It is a hard truth but I do believe I am grateful for the deadlines within my life. They push me where I need to be and help me become the person I am capable of becoming.

Who knew?

Magic and Miracles

I often marvel at the magical and rather miraculous little life I live.

It is a simple life measured by small regularly occurring miracles such as good health, living in a safe/comfortable/affordable home (and country) which houses all of my needs/wants/desires. 

I have the ability to provide for myself and be self reliant. 

I am beyond grateful for the supportive community of family and friends.

I am content and at peace with where I am, who I am and where I think I'm headed.

I live in a magical fairy tale land where I create stories and happy endings to put the story-teller part of my mind at rest.

It is a wonderful little life I am living.

Then? I looked at the household products I reached for this morning:

MAGIC Eraser

MIRACLE Cloth

Can this stuff be bought? Maybe.

Whatever little things it takes to add a dash of magic and small miracles to your day, may you find just a few little magical moments as you navigate throughout the hard day in front of you.

May the force be with you!

Back in the Saddle Again

I woke up to a bird choir singing outside my window and the soothing sound of a distant train whistle when my eyes popped open at 5:00 this morning. My chosen wake-up time. My favorite sounds. Ahhhh.

It has been a chaotic time for my tired brain. Bookkeeping deadlines, tending to my aunt's housekeeping/grocery/misc needs in four days instead of five, then my own household requirements (no time for groceries there), packing what I wanted to take to my weekend oasis and heading out there in time to mow the half acre of  "lawn" (I am exaggerating the square footage but that is what it feels like when I'm mowing and use the word lawn hesitantly as the grass is sparse, I over-sprayed for weeds and killed off a fair bit and our regular rains didn't water what was left of the grass so I kicked up a LOT of dust as I mowed) before the weekend began. 

I was already prepared for company but got a side order of distraction when the fridge at my little oasis quit working. High socialization requirements for the weekend were met &/or exceeded (I'm not bragging. My expectations of myself were not high). I glided through the weekend with a dysfunctional fridge in the background of my thoughts with the mantra "There is nothing I can do about it so there is no sense worrying about it" on repeat. 

Do your best. Surround yourself with siblings and their spouses. Toss in a sister to mastermind the catering (again). Add a little family reunion. Season with a drop-by-visit with a cousin new to the neighborhood. That is my personal recipe for the most perfect unperfect weekend of the year.

After the dust settled (literally, as I think of our dusty lawn), I was left alone in my little oasis. I settled in with a few troubleshooting suggestions from www.familyhandyman.com and [drum roll please] the fridge is working again. At least this morning (Dr FamilyHandyman suggests there is a problem with the defrost heater/timer/or thermostat). 

I woke up at my favorite waking time, did my stretches (I have done neither since my string of late nights began five days ago as I struggled to meet my bookkeeping deadlines then late nights became the norm thereafter) had some cold water from the presently functioning fridge and finally felt the long awaited ahhhh-some moment I have come to know and love.

As I navigated my late nights, knowing that much socialization would be on the agenda, I slept in each morning knowing there would be more late nights on the horizon. My sleep schedule was navigated with ease as the extra waking hours at night were offset by a few more sleeping hours in the morning (I'm not bragging. I am eternally grateful for my sleeping superpowers). To wake up on a Monday morning with a spring in my step and actually anticipating the return of my regularly scheduled life is a gift I did not expect as I anticipated the weekend past.

I don't wake up every Monday morning feeling this way. It is the return to my satisfying quiet little life that is key. The fact that all the looming deadlines at my day job were met last week. Waking up to a day of high expectations is an exhausting way to greet the day.

You know you are living the life you are intended to live when you wake up, after a good nights sleep, on a Monday morning AND you are grateful to hop back on that horse and be back in the saddle again.