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 ...

I Can't Hear Myself Think

I have become everything I never wanted to be. 

Unmotivated, uninspired ... put the prefix "un" in front of all the things I ever aspired to become and that is the gist of my overall feeling of unrest.

Writing has saved me from myself time and time again. Yet I cannot seem to find the words to put to page the way I used to. It doesn't matter if I write uncensored thoughts just for myself, words here on my blog to force myself to be accountable, reply to an email or respond to a text. Words do not come easily.

TOO MANY WORDS are a requirement for living these days.

I woke up feeling my feelings very deeply one recent morning. They were so deep and so heavy. I did one right thing. I did NOT turn on the TV or computer to numb myself out of what I was feeling. I simply allowed myself to feel my feelings and let myself sink into the abyss.

I did cheat. I sent off a few messages which resulted in hearing the words I most needed to hear which was followed up with a conversation with someone who has known me long enough to know who I truly am and likes me anyway, which allowed me to say the words I was feeling out loud .

Days have unfolded since then and as I look at what brought me to my knees that particular morning, it feels like a non-event. I have resumed life-as-I-know-it and the heaviness I felt in that moment has lifted. 

If I hadn't let myself succumb to those emotions at the time, I would have forgotten the entire incident. Enter the addiction of the new world. Numbing. Tuning out one's thoughts and losing them to one's addiction of choice. Food, alcohol, scrolling, drugs, Netflix and any number of mind numbing activities you can think of.

Back in the "old days", I would take a morning such as the one I just described and I would have done one of a number of things. I would have cleaned, gone outside or wrote. Whatever activity I may have chose, I would have sunk into my thoughts and listened to myself. In a reflective, healing and cathartic way.

Whether I walked, worked, sat in a sun beam or toiled at some menial household task, I would have let myself THINK.

I have stopped thinking. 

I miss my thoughts. I miss my old self. I miss the light that follows the darkness.

I just read that a person needs three things be happy. Someone to love. Something to do. Something to hope for.

As the thought of my children moving out and on with their lives in distant locations; followed by the "knowing" I have that my employment relies heavily on people who are well into their 80's; and the loss of a dream on the horizon ... I am not looking too far into the future right now.

Something to hope for.

Seems like a small step in a positive direction. Hope. Faith. Trust that "we are exactly where we are meant to be" ...

Everything is going to be okay. Things always works out. I have faith in what I don't yet know. It will all be okay.

It will all work out in the end. If it hasn't worked out, it is not yet the end. 

Today

I can't believe what I'm about to write. I am actually welcoming the idea of the sun sleeping in just a little bit longer. I am comforted by grabbing a sweater in the morning while there is a bit of a chill in the air. 

In a world where so much feels ever-changing, unpredictable and unprecedented I am comforted by the knowledge our seasons will change and although the sun is not shining as long as it has been, we know this is temporary. 

The sun always rises. Shortening days are followed by longer ones. Summer is followed by fall, which leads the way into winter where we anticipate the return of longer days, the renewal of spring and the harvest of our summer.

Nature is leading the way during this time of great uncertainty. News of Hurricane Laura, descriptions of a "surge" and the word "unsurvivable" tossed into  news briefs remind me to be grateful for what I have today.

Today my biggest problem is tending to month-end bookkeeping work. While it feels overwhelming at times, it is predictable and I have some control over how my days play out.

Another month has sped by. I feel like I'm in a time warp. Days go by quickly. Seasons blur from one into the next. In a few days I will have last year's income taxes paid in full. Just in time to start saving for this year's taxes. 

They say there are only two certainties in life. Death and taxes. This is something to hold onto while a global pandemic, racism, raging fires, hurricanes are the backdrop of our lives. Lives where challenges of living a regular ordinary life are still mounting. 

Today? I am grateful for taxes. It beats the alternative.

Better Days

One of my personal mottos is: "The good thing about a very bad day is [often], the next day is better"

Let me add the disclaimer this is not always the truth. Bad days are not always followed by better days but there is one almost sure fire guarantee. The next day will be different.

Personally, if I can examine that very bad day and pinpoint where things went wrong or why I took a set of circumstances personally, I do my best to address my personal responsibility and attempt to let the rest go. I am better at this some days than others.

If circumstances are beyond my control, I throw my hands up in the air and mutter to myself "I did my best but the wrong things happened". I give myself permission to feel badly, pat myself on the back for doing my level best (our best changes day by day and the best is all we can ever ask of ourselves) and carry on to live another day.

I've had a few bad days in recent history. Let me disclose the fact that I have a very easy life and my definition of a "bad day" is relative to the weeks and months preceding aforementioned days. A bad day in my life is not all that terrible.

I am well aware there are situations which are dire and of much more consequence than those I have contended with. I'm not talking about those days. In fact, I tend to handle the bigger, life altering life events better than I deal with the little stuff. It's the little stuff that brings me down (almost) every time.

Knowing when to consult a professional can alter a day. Computer technology comes to mind as an example. Deciphering when I can figure something out versus admitting defeat and calling a computer expert is a blurry line. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. Losing a day-long battle against technology can leave one feeling very weary. But, when comparing said defeat against a real live crisis of epic proportions, it keeps one's perspective in view.

When you look backwards at a day and can pinpoint the exact moment when things went awry and how the domino effect of one simple action affected everything to follow, it may help to take a portion of accountability on yourself. Even though there is nothing you can do about it, if you can walk away with the thought, "Note to self: next time I will do [this] differently and hope for better results". 

There are so very many kinds of days where one feels beaten down and worn out after a long, hard day of life.

There isn't a person I know who lives without worry, pressure, tension, anxiety, trauma, pain or difficulty in some form. Everyone you meet is carrying the weight of their world on their shoulders. Some bear the burden inwardly, others may show signs of weariness, but it is almost a guarantee that everyone you meet is fighting a battle you cannot see.

There are so many stressors people are facing. Health; relationships; financial burdens; work; mental illness; concern over family/friend's well being; feelings of being overwhelmed, misunderstood or not seen; too much/not enough responsibility; work/unemployment; isolation/not enough isolation and the list goes on. 

We are acting and reacting to all the above mentioned conditions on a day-to-day, moment-to-moment basis. Interactions between us are almost guaranteed to go sideways because each of us is dealing with our own "stuff". The potential for misunderstanding is high.

I wrote that sentence, looked up and the title of this book from my bookshelf literally jumped out at me:

When our bad days go badly due to interactions with others, it is hard not to take them personally. It can be even harder to pinpoint an exact cause and action to rectify a problem. The chance for re-occurrence is high.

In my experience, the best way to deal with the "day after" is after taking a step back, sleeping on it and coming back at the experience without the emotion driving the feelings of a bad situation.

In my daycare days, I wrote newsletters. Writing forces me to re-examine, re-read and reflect on how my words sound to the person on the receiving end. Writing has been a godsend to me. I can defuse my emotions, search for words with less of a sting and after sorting my thoughts on paper, I can maintain a sense of calmness when speaking of how something has affected me without adding fuel to the fire.

Writing has made me better at vocalizing my thoughts. It is in my nature to avoid confrontation or arguments. The fact that I have a quiet voice assists me in making my point. I have never solved an issue by pretending it didn't exist. 

There is a sense of calm that follows after simply doing what is within your power and letting the rest go. 

Give yourself a break today. Know that you did your best. Remind yourself that your "best" changes day by day, moment by moment. Hope for better days ahead. Even though today may not be that day, remind yourself better days are on the horizon. 

Sigh of Relief

This past week took a lot out of me. Maybe it's the moon. Maybe it's not. Maybe it's justified. Maybe it's not. Maybe I'm weak. Maybe I'm not. Maybe it's too much Coronavirus consciousness. Maybe I'm just a whiner.

Life handed out a lesson on mortality, the imprint a life makes here on earth and the importance of living a life in anticipation of "what's next", while enjoying the moment you are in. 

If I died tomorrow, would I be happy with the week I just lived?

I did my best but I was not at my best. I was kind but I could have been kinder. I worked more than I played. 

Then I did the ONE thing that tipped the balance. I cleaned.

My sons came home from a day trip they had taken to do some rock climbing and hiked through some prairie sand dunes. My middle son was kind enough to give me a perfect amount of produce from his garden.

I was had just finished my list of cleaning chores when they drove up. My son proudly handed over the vegetables of his labor. I looked at them and muttered inside my head "This is why I like to buy my vegetables from the store - I don't have to clean them first".

We came inside and as I walked across the kitchen floor I commented, "The floor feels dirty and I just finished vacuuming it." My son lowered his head and asked, "Does it feel like sand? I think it's me."

I felt the entirety of the day I had experienced but not vented aloud come out in one loud sentence, "This is why I don't clean any more. I just get grumpy!"

We exchanged some civil conversation before everyone went their own way and went on to live another hour.

I had a tough Friday. My week was hard. I could not wait for yesterday to end.

I woke up this morning and breathed a great sigh of relief. I made it through another week. Exhale.

This is NOT living. It is existing. I'm ready to look for signs of life and inspiration. I'm off to spend the day with my siblings. I will inhale the day and resuscitate myself enough to endure the week ahead.

I repeat. This is NOT living the life I hoped for. 

The Tipping Point

What is your tipping point? What is the point where a series of small events add up to the point of a critical change? What is that "last straw"?

I can pinpoint the sequence of events, times and events leading up to my own personal points-of-no-return. I like to think I have a pretty strong threshold of compassion, endurance and understanding. But there comes a time when that ONE last thing pushes the limit and I'm done.

My marriage was one of those tests of endurance. There were multiple infractions made by both parties. The arguments were plentiful, loud and excessive. The make-ups were equal in their emotional levels. But each negative action kept taking its toll. Each make-up session became a little less meaningful. One by one, day by day, action by action it all added up. Until that ONE last time. And I was done.

Did I plan to leave? No. But I had been mentally preparing for what I subconsciously knew was inevitable. 

It was the straw that broke the camel's back. So insignificant but just that one final blow.

There is a lot of talk about "boundaries", "toxic relationships" and a vast array of similar discussions about situations which necessitate walking away, restarting or dealing with people at arm's length in order to restore a person's mental and physical well being.

I can think of relationships, jobs and situations where I felt backed into a corner and had to take a stand. 

During my daycare days, this evolution became a positive one. My need to set firm boundaries and establish a set of expectations turned into newsletters and there was a renewed sense of appreciation after clearing the air in a firm but respectful manner. 

I became better at setting my own personal boundaries during my daycare career.

Boundaries can even spill over into what was once the highlight of my week. Ballroom dancing. While I danced, I loved every moment and everything about it. Everything. Without exception. Until I didn't. One day, I was paying good money to do something that no longer brought me joy. My feet hurt. I felt stressed during my lesson. I wanted to be home with my dying cat. I was done. I was just done. 

Boundaries shift and change and evolve. Communication is a two way street and when both parties are effective at their side of the conversation, meaningful change can take place. Sometimes the answer is not an answer. It is simply time to move on.

Life is fluid, ever changing and evolving. When I hear of marriages that endure all of the above I am in absolute awe. I have an incredible amount of respect for people who work through their ever changing relationship, stay together and still respect one another. 

I have been asked to ponder the reason why I am unable to retire on many occasions. The short answer? I'm a quitter. I reached my tipping point on too many occasions.

IF I had stayed with the first job I ever held, took out a pension, topped it up to the maximum I was allowed, kept that pension intact and added onto it throughout my working life, I would have 41 years worth of savings accumulated. I could be sitting on a comfortable little nest egg.

IF I had stayed in my marriage, I cannot even begin to imagine where I would be right now. If I had stayed married, I would not have found myself in that first job with an offer of a pension.

IF I had stayed in a bad marriage. IF I had lived for my pension. IF I had stayed in a secure job instead of striking out on my own and opening a daycare. If I had focused on making a living instead of making a life. If ... if ... if ...

I stayed in "none of the above". I am not set up to retire. All because for one reason or another, I reached the point of no return within a marriage, a job, a home, a life style or any of the other reasons I chose to walk away and restart from where I was.

I'm grateful for where I am today. I wouldn't be here if I had walked this walk any other way. My back is stronger because I have learned to honor my own personal boundaries. Honoring my calling to "just be a mom" has strengthened not only myself but all of my relationships.

I am so grateful for all of the points of no return. The "I'm done" moments. The opportunity to restart from where I was.

I am also a little afraid. My boundaries feel a little stretched at times because at this age and stage of my life, I don't like the idea of restarting from where I am. I just want to coast.

I have a feeling my inevitable retirement may take the form of my marriage:

Do I plan to quit work? No. But I have been mentally preparing for what I subconsciously know will one day be inevitable. 

It's all going to work its way out. In its own time, in its own way. In the meantime, I trust that I am exactly where I am meant to be and I am ever grateful for my employment. While I have it, I will appreciate and be grateful for it. For one day, this will all change.

Like the end of my marriage ... I just hope I'm mentally prepared for it when it happens.

Giving Up Verses Giving In

One of life's most important lessons just may be: "Know when to call for help". This renewed piece of knowledge is brought to you by The Need to Get A New Computer.

This is how I thought the conversation went:

Me: I bought the computer using no other information than what you told us. It has 8 GB of Ram with an Intel processor. It is untouched, still sealed, new in the box, just in case we have to return it. I have never bought a computer before. My Previous Computer Guy always did everything for me and brought it to me when he did whatever had to be done. My boss said to have you take care of setting up the new computer.

Computer Guy: All you need to do is turn it on and let the updates run. That will save me time ...

So that is how I got myself into a situation that was way above my pay grade.

I knew I was in trouble when the absolutely very first thing I did when the computer came to life and asked me the simple question: 

What language do you want to use? "United States - English or Canada - [I didn't stop to read any further - I just knew I lived in Canada so I clicked before I read]"

Warning! Warning! Warning!

Always read before you click!!!!!!!

I clicked "Canada - ________" and apparently the word after Canada must have been French because from that point onward the computer spoke and typed to me in Canadian French.

The day steadily went downhill from there.

The next day, my Computer Guy came to install data from the hard drive which had crashed and our conversation went something like this:

Me: I got myself in way over my head. I've never done this before and I made every mistake known to man.

Computer Guy: That's why I always like to set up a new computer myself.

Me: I thought you said all I had to do was turn it on and let the updates run.

Computer Guy: [after a calm discussion of what he thought he said and what I thought I heard] There is no sense in wondering about what happened yesterday. We can only go forward from here.

Me: So apparently, when the VERY first thing you do is wrong, you quit and call an expert in the field.

Computer Guy: [short version of a very long answer] Yes

Lesson learned. 

I have become as wise as I am due to all the things I have done wrong before I find the right way. My personal motto is "I rarely take a direct route to where I'm going but I always get there in the end." Sometimes? Just sometimes? I need a little help getting there.

All of what I have learned in life has come from doing it wrong before I got it right. Or finally figured out that I should simply give up and/or call for help.

Giving up verses giving in. This ongoing battle will continue to be part of my life story. 

When do we finally get to the part where we are simply wise? I guess when we stop trying new things. I am starting to believe learning is highly overrated.

“Once you stop learning you start dying” 

~ Albert Einstein

Rainy Days and Mondays

It is both rainy and Monday ...

... just feeling a little gloomy

and Karen Carpenter's lyrics are speaking to me.

"... Hangin' around (hangin' around)

Nothin' to do but frown

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down

Funny, but it seems that it's the only thing to do (only thing to do)

Run and find the one who loves me..."

The isolation must be getting to me.

I feel like I could use a hug right about now.

P.S. The next song on the YouTube lineup of Karen Carpenter's play list is 

"Top of the World"

and that is always where I end up after a gloomy day like today.

No worries.

I Miss Me

Waking up to a weekend full of so many thoughts, feelings, ideas and wishes has reminded me of how much I miss "me".

My introvert personality tendencies have me revelling in and losing myself in the COVID world of social distancing and isolation. The Coronavirus is enabling my natural inborn desires which is both wonderful and awful at the same time.

Add working-from-home plus my inclination to catch up on every little single thing I'm working on to this equation and I created a Math Zombie Personality (which is not my best self).

Long ago, I recognized my need for the law and order of a numbers related world to be counteracted with socialization, words, communication and enough quiet to hear myself think.

Decades of working in the banking industry fulfilled most of those needs. The ability to balance to zero was counteracted with the need to provide good customer service. My ability to listen, communicate, act and react in accordance with whoever was in front of me was a very good fit for me. 

My years of daycaring were offset with working at a bank on Saturdays, followed by a part-time bookkeeping job which became full-time. Full-time bookkeeping (all numbers) didn't fulfill my needs and eventually morphed into working as a part-time secretary (all people and words) within the school system. This catapulted me back into my daycaring/bookkeeping role where I was back in a place which was a relatively balanced equation of people, numbers, creativity and writing.

I fell out of balance a week ago when I immersed myself in work. 

I stopped thinking, processing and reflecting life-as-I-know-it. I had nothing to say, no time to say it, no one to say it to and putting this lack of nothingness into the form of a blog post was the end result. 

I took a day off yesterday. Words, thoughts, feelings and the desire to interact with friends and family came to the forefront of my mind again.

I woke up this morning feeling fresh, renewed, revitalized and ready to take on more than numbers.

I felt all these feelings and the sensation of "joy" started oozing out of my pores. I gave myself a mental hug and thought to myself, "I miss ME".

I'm going to indulge myself with whatever the day brings. I cannot wait to see what unfolds today as I create a whimsical day to just be "me". I've missed this ...

Do What You Can

"Start where you are, use what you have, do what you can" 

~ Arthur Ashe

Two Mondays in one week is one Monday too many.

Start where you are. 

I am sitting in a Thursday that feels like a Monday with the bonus of a weekend right around the corner. 

I will just go forward from here (what choice do I have?).

Use what you have. 

One more cup of coffee and I'll be good to go.

Do what you can.

I will do my best to get the job at hand done today so I can put it behind me for another year.

I know these words are so much deeper than this. But for today? This is enough.

Just go do what you can today. 

Three Years

Last week, I read and reflected on the thought "What if this was your last week ..." A seed was planted that grew into a dream. A dream that felt amazingly light and brought an incredible sense of peace.

I can recall my dream in fragments. What I remember was being told (presumably by a doctor) that I had only three years to live. My response was a surprise to the person who imparted this news in my dream. "Three years?!" Three years was perfect!!

Three years would give me ample time to "clean house" and prepare. I would have lots of time to spend with family, friends, gatherings and re-unioning (obviously I was not concerned with COVID-19 within my dream state). I only had to concern myself with three more years of financially supporting myself?! 

Everything felt so attainable. Three years was perfect!!

I forgot about that dream until I started writing this morning. It is impossible to know what three years will bring. The ground beneath my feet feels uncertain at the moment. Kind of like I'm walking in quicksand and ever fearful of being pulled under.

Three years.

Why don't I "clean house" figuratively and literally? Not in one weekend. Just adopt a mindset of cleaning up the clutter within our home, my mind and my world in general.

Three years. 

My son should be close to completing his education and looking at the world beyond "home". My work world will have evolved into something different than today.  

Three years.

It is impossible to predict where things will be in three years. But what if a doctor told me I had three years to live. You can bet that I would spend those years wisely.

Why not spend my time wisely anyway?

Sunday

Sunday has been and continues to be my favorite day of the week. How I could fritter away the entirety of my favorite day doing so very little is quite astounding. 

I've become the queen of "doing nothing". The unfortunate part is, I'm not doing it well.

I woke up to my weekend hangover of nothingness feeling absolutely, completely and totally spent. What the heck is wrong with me?!?

Then ... I looked at my existence from the outside, looking in and decided to give myself a break.

When I got outside my own head for a minute, I saw myself and the role I have been playing within my small little world. The words that came to mind as I looked at this alien version of myself was "Supporting Person".

I'm not the star in my own show. Other story lines are running through my own. I listen. I relate. I do my best to understand. I am there. Not in a big way. Just in a small understated "supporting role".

When I validated my role, I forgave myself for feeling mentally inept over the course of the weekend. One cannot continue to do nothing for forever. But one weekend? What has been done cannot be undone. Just take one step in a forward direction.

A new week awaits.

Creating a Work Space

I woke up bright and early this morning with pep in my step and a peaceful easy feeling in my heart. I have the privilege of working from home, setting my own pace, getting the work done within the parameters required but doing it in a space that is my own. My office. I love it.

I didn't take those thoughts and immediately step into my work day. Instead, I sat and had coffee with them. I read the archives of my blog and found the recurrent theme I have been writing about ever since I started writing here. Home is where my heart is. Finding a way to work from home and making our house work for me has been my guiding light ever since my youngest was born.

My ventures of working-out-of-our-home since that time have been filled with angst. Opening my daycare and learning how to set boundaries, creating a space conducive to the job at hand and feeling in control of my environment has been my recipe for contentment.

I can go back to my days as a teller at the beginning of my work-life. The year was 1988. The lesson was "your work space mirrors how you think". Create a work space you are comfortable with, have everything you need at hand, keep it organized, free of clutter and you can do your job better. 

That has been my credo since the beginning of my work life. I kept a meticulous teller wicket. I remember the angst I felt when I had to work from someone else's work space. I haven't changed a bit.

When I opened my daycare, I followed the guidelines set out for me as a teller: Create a work space you are comfortable with, have everything you need at hand, keep it organized and free of clutter and you can do your job better. 

This worked like a charm. I organized my house like I organized my teller wicket. I created a space my daycare family was comfortable in, everything I needed to do my job was close at hand, my daycare family assisted in keeping things organized as they soon learned everything had its spot and if we all worked together on it, they would know exactly where to find the toy they were looking for. It was a team effort. And it worked. 

Any time I worked out of the house after that point, I felt like a fish out of water. Working in the attic space doing the book work I had been hired to do out of my home was probably the best scenario of all. I was still in control of my work space. But I lost control of everything else. 

Now, working from home, setting up my work space and creating a place I am comfortable with, having everything I need at hand, organizing it and keeping the clutter to a minimum has reinstated a sense of calm within me. I'm home again.

When working in someone else's work space, I respected the environment they had created. "This is what works for them" was my constant thought. I wouldn't want someone coming in and changing my space. So I respected the boundaries and tried to adapt.

Adapting and making something work depletes me. I did my best. Over and over again. I was doing my best but it wasn't the best I could be. Until now. 

My office space is simply that. An office. It isn't convertible to a guest room. It is a work space with all the tools I need to make that space work for me. It feels as heavenly as a work place can feel. It is awesome.

I must step into my work day and it will be a day filled with things that must be done. The work table is filled to capacity with projects I must tend to. And there is an overflow on my desk. Priorities are in order. There is time and space to do what has to be done. There is SO much to be done. Yet I don't feel overwhelmed. 

I have created a work space I am comfortable with, I have everything I need at hand, it is organized and free of clutter. Now I can do my job better. 

Onward!

My work day awaits

Worst. Day. Ever.

**Please note: everything is relative. I lead a very easy life so "worst days" for me are truly not all that bad. This I know. Everything that follows this disclaimer is written from my own personal perspective on one particular day.**

Have you ever had a turning point in your day when you realize in hind sight, that you should have just walked away and tried again another day?  Me too.

This particular challenging day began with the best of intentions. Everything was going well so I decided to do just one quick thing as I tied up my work day at home and headed out to my out-of-house employment.

"I'll just do this [one thing] so I'm all set to go for tomorrow", I thought to myself with a self satisfied sigh.

That "one thing" did not go well. Technical difficulties at every turn. Trouble shooting tips from Google led to one, two, three, four and more different attempts to salvage the mission at hand. Then I had to leave the house.

Walking away from a challenge is often one of the best things one can do. Rebooting the computer is another favorite standby of mine. I did both. "Everything's gonna be okay" I told myself time and time and time again.

Then I made the mistake of going back to try to solve this after I got home from work. I often say that anything I do or say after 6:00 p.m. is equivalent to driving while under the influence of alcohol. I do not function on an intelligent level after the magic hour of 6:00 at night. I call it "impaired speaking".

Yet, I decided to try to fix a mind boggling technical issue after 7:00 p.m. Then I involved a second computer. What was I thinking?!??

Things went from bad to worse. I tried every trouble shooting mechanism known to me at the time. I tried, tried and tried again. I rebooted computers more often than I washed my hands that day. Reboot. Restart. Walk away. Try, try again.

I'm starting to see why I kept going back to relationships that didn't work for me - I used the same strategy.

After a long, frustrating evening I finally turned everything off and assured myself that I would wake up in the morning and on a fresh, clean, rested brain I would solve all the technical computer issues at hand.

Sure enough, I woke up with a brand new and shiny plan. A new day. A fresh start. Onward ...

Then things went from bad to worse. And even worse yet. I even messed up my online grocery order in an irreparable way. Even my email program defied me. Outbound messages sat in the Outbox folder and refused to go anywhere.

Everything I touched went awry. I couldn't even get one computer to turn on. These are not my computers. I was panicking, anxious and didn't know which way to turn.

The feeling of angst and helplessness I had were akin to the worst days of my life when I had no idea which way to turn. Those were the days I crumbled to the ground, looked upward and whispered, "Help me ..."

It is at those times when things feel like they cannot get any worse that can become the much needed turning point.

Some people pray. I called my Computer Guy.

I told him my story. I warned him it was a long one with many twists and turns. I started to talk. He listened. Then he started to reply. I responded, "But there is more ..." I kept telling my tale. He kept thinking I was at the end of my story. I kept saying, "But there is even more ..." This cycle repeated at least three times. Maybe four.

"Can you help me over the phone? I will pay you for your time. I will do anything." I implored. Unfortunately the damage I had done was more than an amateur troubleshooter like me could handle. This was a job for a professional.

This is the part of the never ending story where the soundtrack changes to a light and hopeful tone. The sun comes out, melts the snow, there is a twinkle in the skies above and up drives my Computer Guy. I'm pretty sure he was wearing a superhero cape.

He called before he arrived so I could put the troubled computer on our doorstep so we adhered to all COVID-19 distancing requirements. I was inside the house, he was outside, we spoke, then he drove off on his white stallion (okay, it was only a car) and the heaviness of the day was lifted off my shoulders.

I turned around, tried reloading the program that started all the trouble on a new program on my own personal computer ...

While it was loading, my online grocery order had enough time on its own to allow me to go back and salvage the many errors of my ways.

The computer program loaded successfully and I was able to complete the mission I had set out to do 24 hours prior.

Twenty four hours. It took one full day. Suddenly my Worst. Day. Ever. turned into the Best Recovery I could have ever hoped for.

Everything that went sour turned on its haunches and turned out okay.

It all works out in the end. If it doesn't work out, it is not yet the end. 

~ slightly paraphrased from The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

I know this "worst day ever" was a walk in the park compared to the realities going on all around us. I know this. Yet I couldn't stop the spiraling anxiousness and feeling of being overwhelmed. 

Yesterday felt like I was a contestant on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. I used all my lifelines. It turns out "calling a friend (aka: a computer professional)" was a game changer for me. 

In these days of isolation, confinement, health, family and financial worries DO use your lifelines. "Calling a friend" may be a game changer for you too.

Hope Springs Eternal

I'm a bit of a dreamer. 

I like to think I'm an optimistic thinker. 

Gratitude is my daily prayer. 

Faith is simply my belief that (one way or another), things will work out. 

Some how. 

Some way. 

The sun always rises. 

We get a new chance every day. 

Even when we don't want it. 

The sun keeps shining through the closed blinds 

as if to beckon us out of whatever moment we are in 

and invite us to open the blinds to behold the wonder of life.

I had a very quiet weekend.

I love quietness.

I took one day to do all the hard things.

I washed my hair.

I vacuumed.

I washed a load of "whites".

I washed the shower curtain.

I wrote a blog.

I replied to an email.

Then I rested.

I woke up yesterday to a fresh new day.

All the hard things had been done.

A clean slate.

I knew exactly what I wanted to write on that slate.

I wanted to work.

And I did.

I put in a productive day.

I did hard things.

Then I rested.

I slept in this morning.

I missed the early morning dawn when I normally spot our neighborhood rabbits.

I know for a fact we have three rabbits.

I suspect we have four.

One morning, I saw one rabbit. 

I dubbed this rabbit "Loner",

because there always seems to be one rabbit who is set apart from the rest.

Loner hopped out of sight.

I waited.

I wondered if "The Twins" would appear.

We have a set of rabbits who seem to travel together.

When you see one, the other is usually in sight.

Then there is "A Third" who sometimes joins them.

Sometimes not.

I waited only a few moments.

I was rewarded with the appearance of "The Twins", 

soon followed by "The Third".

Yes,

"I think we have four rabbits",
I told my son who is tiring of my rabbit tales.

I thought I had no hope of spotting a rabbit at this morning's late hour.

I opened the blinds.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear ...

but FOUR rabbits!

Now, my question is:

"Do we have four rabbits?

(the Loner, Twins & a Third) ...

or do we have eight rabbits??

The only other time I spotted four rabbits at the same time

is when they hopped in from the south 

and joined the Twins & a Third (Loner had already taken off to the west).

Four rabbits at one sighting.

In the daylight.

So I could document the moment.

I felt like this morning's rabbit sighting was a reward.

A pat on the back for doing the hard things this weekend past.

A nod of approval that sleeping in is okay.

A sign that just because we don't see something doesn't mean it isn't there.

And a definite sign of spring!

The rabbits are shedding their winter coats,

the snow is melting,

daylight is exceeding moonlight,

and it is (finally) warming up.

The sun rises every morning.

Spring is guaranteed to follow winter.

Eventually.

It sometimes feels there is little we know to be true these days.

We don't know how long before we can reignite our social lives and our economy

as this COVID-19 pandemic rules the world.

We don't know the lasting impact this will have.

We don't know who will be infected.

We have no idea how this virus could infiltrate our lives.

Just keep waking up.

Open the blinds and gaze outside.

Do one of the hard things you didn't do yesterday. 

Or not.

You can do hard things tomorrow too.

Rest.

Always rest.

Be grateful for the smallest of things.

Prepare to be amazed.

Marvel at the world around you and dare to wonder ...

This morning

I am wondering

do we just have four rabbits in our midst,

or eight?

Either way,

With spring, comes baby rabbits.

Hope springs eternal.

Good Things Will Come

As I dipped into my revolving supply of morning smoothie ingredients and was quietly grateful for that which is "on tap" within our home on a regular basis, I felt my gratitude multiplied this morning.

Many, many (many) decades ago an acquaintance mentioned her parent's habit of always keeping an extra of everything they used regularly on hand. When their spare item was taken from its place in the pantry, it was immediately replaced. Thus, they always had a ready supply of all regularly used items on hand.

I immediately incorporated "keeping a revolving inventory on hand" into my way of living and budgeting. Any time someone took the last item from our stock, they were supposed to write it on the list so I knew to replace it. This way of shopping has served us well over the years.

Add "budgeting" into this formula and there are times when I'm waiting for the next pay cheque or credit card cut off date before I replenish my supplies. That was exactly were I landed last Friday.

I have been working hard to spend within my allotted budget amount. In order to succeed, I had to wait until Friday to do my shopping. Add the fact that "self isolating" is a way of life for me. I live for weekends where my car doesn't have to leave the garage.  The fact that I had plans to go out that night resulted in shopping at 10 p.m. on a Friday night. Not my favorite place in the world to be. Ever. Let alone in the midst of a time where scarcity is ruling the world as we know it.

I have been very calm, level headed and practical about all the advisories during this time of the COVID-19 Virus. I have read or heard in more than one place: "Everything we need to know, we learned in Kindergarten". Share, don't hog the toys, be kind to one another, protect others when you cough, wash your hands, wash your hands and wash your hands. Stay home if you are sick. And as Glennon Doyle taught me, "do the next right thing".

If we all follow these simple instructions, hopefully we can slow the spread of this virus.

Then I found myself in a Walmart at 10 p.m. on a Friday night, when it should have been close to abandoned. It was busy. The shelves were bare. I had a hard time finding the items on my list to replenish my revolving supply of household goods and groceries.

Yes. I felt the anxiety that is running rampant. I came home to find my son reverberating a different version of the same reality. The university cancelled classes. This is real.

Remember what you learned in Kindergarten. Be kind. Be considerate. Share. Wash your hands often. Plus one amendment to those rules ... give everyone their space and learn to appreciate alone time. This is the breeding ground of great ideas, imagination, creativity and listening to the quiet within the world you may find.

I believe this will get much worse before it gets better. I hear glimmers of hope all around me. Some good will come. I have heard it said that this is giving our earth a chance to breathe. This is a rude awakening ... but it is never so bad that it couldn't be worse.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to our health care system and providers. Thank you, thank you, thank you to those who work in the front lines and are exposed to hundreds upon hundreds of people on a daily basis. I can't begin to think that you are bearing the brunt of people's fear and anxiety. Thank you, thank you, thank you to truck drivers and those in the delivery field. We are so very fortunate to have you in our corner.

Please be mindful, considerate and kind. In times of great uncertainty, please let kindness win.

You Do Get What You Need

Two down, two to go. The day I stop counting down days until the weekend will be the day I know I have arrived to the elusive destination which feels far beyond my reach.

I realize when one dream is realized it often means the end of the line for another piece of life which has sustained a person until the next plateau.

To reach the point where weekends are not my life line and do not define me, will I be searching for purpose? Companionship? Financial security? What sacrifices will be made to get from "here" to "there"?

What will I lose along the way? What can I do to create the next place I am headed?

My answers lie in gratitude and connection.

I will appreciate what I have while I have it. Life as I know it is not ideal but it is manageable. I believe I must fill myself up with generous doses of sleep, solitude, fulfillment, family, friends and activity to offset the challenging aspects of my days. Balance is key. I cannot exist on work or leisure alone. It is simply that at this stage of living, I do not want my work to define me.

When I am dead and gone, I don't want people to say "She sure was a good worker". I hope instead, they will say some version of "She lived a good life" ... "She was a good friend" ... "She did her best and her best was enough" ... "I am grateful our paths crossed" ...

I am grateful for what I have. I know things could change in a New York minute. I look around me, listen to the people I know and I know I am living a charmed life.

Getting up is hard. But I CAN get up. I jump out of bed and head towards a day which is predictable, safe and provides me with exactly what I need. As I believe my sister was quoted as saying, "You don't always get what you want ... but you do get what you need."

Synchronicity

I am working my way through "It's Never Too Late to Begin Again" by Julia Cameron. 

Julia instructs her readers to divide their current age by twelve. In my case, since that answer is five, my first assignment is to go back and recall memories, smells, feelings and all I know about my first five years.

Lucky for me, what I lacked in actual memories, I was able to find in pictures.

Mom and me

I love the look on Mom's face in this picture. I am amused by the ashtray and cigarette at her side. This was the norm back then. Nothing unusual there. Except perhaps the fact that Mom is wearing plaid pants with a striped top. Now that one makes me sit and wonder what inspired her choice in attire that day. Maybe that was the norm too?

Dad and me

I'm a little older here. Once again, I love how Dad is looking at me. Obviously I was placed in the crook of his arm for picture taking purposes only (who would read a paper with a baby in their arms?). I find it comforting that Dad is reading a paper here. Dad sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper is how I think of Dad when I think of him relaxing. 

My Sisters and me

I have been told my sisters were pretty excited to have a new baby in the house and I was adored as a child. Mom saved a card of congratulations from my uncle saying "Congratulations to the 2 sisters too - I hear they're pretty happy people." I have few sister-memories from this age and stage of my life but I have a feeling the closeness I feel to them stems from their attachment to me from day one. Apparently plaid and stripes were the norm back then - check our my sister's attire above.

Momma Cat and me

I don't really remember Momma Cat (I think that was her name) but this picture encapsulates the way I still feel when I'm wrapped up in the moment of being a content cat parent. Cats, boxes, cushions and kids. This has been a common theme throughout my life and that of my own children. The expressions on Mom and Dad's faces in the previous photos have been transferred to me - this time I'm the proud "parent".

Sorting through these pictures, putting them in chronological order and scouring the pictures for long forgotten details segued into my first "Artist Date".

I love the way the music of the 1960's makes me feel. In a word? Happy. As far back as my memory goes, there was a record player in our living room. Remnants of my sisters' teen years were the 45 rpm records of the hits from the 1960's remained when I grew into my teens. This music must have been the soundtrack to my youngest years. I remember nothing but the feeling. Happiness.

Yesterday, I played 1960 music in the background while I finally took on the task of sorting through pictures, memorabilia, newspaper clippings, wedding/funeral cards and all that Mom deemed important enough to save. 

I started a photo album of the first five years of my life while music from the '60's played. I let thoughts, feelings, memories and a sense of wonder wash in, around and through me. 

What started out as a quiet little task to assemble memories of "0 to 5 years", became a walk down memory lane.

It is the closest I've felt to Mom in a very long time.

As per usual, the first thing I did when I woke up this morning was open the living room blinds in the hope of spotting a rabbit. I haven't had many rabbit sightings lately but the evidence of their presence is everywhere. Rabbit tracks galore and the need to replenish their food every other day. 

This morning? A rabbit was sitting on the street, facing our window as if it was sitting and waiting for me. I gazed at this lone, still rabbit for a good half hour before something got its attention and it stood on all fours, stretched upwards, looked towards our living room window one last time and hopped down the street. 

Part of this week's assignment was to be mindful of synchronicities as they happen - being at the right place at the right time, thinking of someone and they call and other little ways of calling your attention to the minute details of life and considering how they are connected.

I was looking back on my 2019 calendar and was reminded of a childhood friend I wanted to invite for lunch. I turned the calendar pages a few times and the friend I had just been thinking of called me. We are having lunch together today.

I knew without a doubt I wanted to spend the early morning hours in "Mom's room" yesterday as I planned to concentrate on my "It's Never Too Late..." assignment. The moment I sat still in the room, I was enveloped with a sense of peace and stillness.

Be still and know ...

I sat still with Mom's box of memorabilia, photos and breathed in the day. I spent the day in the room I dubbed "Mom's room" from the very first time she stayed with us. I immersed myself in childhood thoughts, memories, music and felt a warm embrace and the sense of feeling

 "Everything's going to be okay".

Then I woke up to a rabbit gazing towards our living room window this morning. A rabbit who was in no hurry to move on. A rabbit who seemed to be exactly where it was meant to be.

Synchronicity? I like to think so. It feels good ...