Throwback Thursday

My only thoughts this morning are "there goes another month".

I wistfully wondered where we will be standing a year from now. Who would have predicted our current state of being?

I have since been scrolling through my blog posts from Septembers in the past. This is the one that spoke to me the loudest. 

A little throwback Thursday post from one year ago with no glimmer of what the next year had in store:

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2019

Look How Far You've Come

While scrolling through the internet this morning, I found a few words that spoke to me:

Credit to: Goalcast

I thought I would reflect on the year and went to check my blog history. September, 2018? Nothing. Not a post.

I then went to look up my 2018 calendar to fill in the blanks. I couldn't find it. I searched through my income tax papers where I always keep my calendar. Not a thing.

Okay, memory. Kick in. What were you doing a year ago?

I remembered September started by a trip with my brother to see my uncle in Guelph. I remember going to my sister's the weekend after that.

I remember feeling a lightness of heart starting to take hold but without the crutches of my blog or a calendar to look back on my memories faded to black. It was a scary feeling.

I scrambled to scroll back on some old texts to find a frame of reference. I found a text where I was headed out to Lloydminster with my son. After reading a few of the messages before and after this trip I was grounded with the knowledge that I remembered what was written in between the texts.

Once my feet were back on the ground and I was thinking clearly, I found my old calendar. Right where I expected it to be.

I flipped back to September, 2018. One year plus six days ago, I received the Final Clearance Letter for Mom's estate. A sibling trip was planned and we officially wound up everything pertaining to Mom's estate shortly thereafter.

We are planning another sibling trip this upcoming weekend. I will be headed off to see my uncle soon. Other events are mirroring those of one year ago.

Two years ago, the loss of Mom was fresh and I felt broken. A year ago, I was picking up the pieces and healing. This year seems to be a renewed version of the year past.

Life has moved on. There is a lot of the same old, same old. Just the way I like it. It feels like the good old days seasoned with the present.

How far have I come? I have a home renovation to celebrate. I am fortunate enough to still be employed. We are all in good spirits and our family relationships are healthy. I'm standing in a very similar place to where I was a year ago but the landscape has changed a little. I am grateful. So very grateful to be back where I have been but feeling better about it.

How about you? What has the last year brought into your life? I hope there have been rainbows after the rain, strength when you need it, courage to keep putting one foot in front of another and the company of those you enjoy to walk through your days.

Back to the present again ...

P.S. I am missing our annual sibling trip terribly. COVID-19, you can leave any time. We have learned quite enough from your presence

On Feeling Deeply

This week has been a week of "feeling deeply".

I woke up one morning feeling personally responsible for pretty much anything and everything. I wanted to walk around with a sign around my neck saying "I'm sorry". It was just that kind of day. 

I have those days now and again. I attribute it to the moon. Phases. Cycles. Patterns. Days of feeling deeply are part of my make up. I recognize this and do my best to wade through the middle of those particular times and utilize the feelings to take action when circumstances allow.

As a rule, I can categorize and sort my feelings, put them in a room, shut the door and not feel the feelings so deeply until I open the door again. This week feels like the doors are all open and I'm walking through the hallway, feeling a low grade kind of angst. 

This too shall pass. I know this is true. I've walked this walk enough times to recognize the pattern.

These are trying times for most of us. Try to recognize what is familiar within your own personal cycles of life. If you can, try to recall what worked in pulling you up and out of where you have been to get to a better place. 

If all else fails, take heed of the lessons I learned in my Grade 3 Health class:

I especially like #4 - "Play out of doors every day". I know that has been lacking in my life. 

What one thing can you do to pull yourself out of your deep thoughts and back into the present?

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

 I woke up before the sun today. 

It was chilly so I pulled on some brand new fuzzy socks, grabbed a sweater and turned on the under the counter lighting in the kitchen.

I padded around the dimly lit house and welcomed the darkness around me.

The sun and summer have felt like an assault to my senses this year. I am ready to hunker in and hibernate.

I'm sipping my coffee as the sun starts to rise and I feel a calmness within.

Hello Darkness, I have missed you.

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. 

Same Old, Same Old (The Sequel)

I woke up this morning, bemoaning the fact that I will eventually have to leave the house today and wondered what I would wear. Oh, how I would love to be a cartoon character with a closet full of identical clothing. No choices to make, no worries about how something may feel/look or go together. Just a grab and go wardrobe with no need to spend time thinking.

Wilma Flintstone comes to mind when I think of cartoon wardrobes. She wore the same dress day in and day out throughout her stint on the Flintstones. She did have a dressy version of the very same dress and her maternity wardrobe was adapted to fit her figure. But all in all? One dress fit all occasions. Just accessorize and change the material and/or length as required.

Speaking of Wilma, what about that hair? Same style. Day in, day out. In all my recollections of the Flintstones, I cannot recall a time when a hair was out of place. Same color. No bad hair cuts. No bad hair days. Same. Same. Same. I have often said I'd like hair like a short-haired cat. Who has ever taken a cat for a haircut? The graying process is gradual and natural. Short and simple? I would just like hair that always looked the same. Day in, day out. No maintenance required. 

I believe I may have been a cartoon character in another life. My longing for sameness and predictability is ongoing. Sure, cartoon shows have their climactic peaks and valleys. But everything is solved by the end of the half hour show. No cliff hangers. No season finales full of mystery and intrigue. Same. Same. Same.

At the end of the above paragraph, I titled this post "Same Old, Same Old". I had a déjà vu moment and immediately searched my blog for a post of a similar title. Sure enough, on November 27th, 2019 I have a post with the identical title with not only an identical theme, but I wrote about my desire to have hair like a cat.

Maybe I already am a cartoon character. Living life on repeat is calming and predictable. But does anyone else get the feeling I am writing about the same thing over and over again? Yep. Me too.

Life on Repeat

I recently read that people who tend to watch reruns of the same shows over and over again are people who like predictability in their lives. As one who watches reruns of my favorite shows on a regular basis, I tend to believe they are right.

Netflix is the answer to my childhood dream. As a child, I remember the feeling of loss at the end of watching Bewitched, my favorite half hour sitcom. I wished there was a way I could watch it over again and again. I hated having to wait an entire week for the next episode. As a teen, I remember taping Sonny & Cher on my audio tape recorder long before VCR's were invented. Just so I could listen to what I just heard. Over and over.

As a young adult, I thought I was living the dream when I could video tape my favorite shows on TV, fast forward through commercials and rewatch the tape whenever I chose. I started collecting my own series of shows. DVD box sets of TV series were yet another dream come true. Then came Netflix and all the video streaming options that are readily available.

These days, we have anything and everything we could ever want to watch readily available, any time of the day or night, every day of the week. Remember when the TV stations shut down for the night and the standard "test pattern" was all that aired until the next morning? No music. No diversion. If anything at all, there may have been the sound of static that accompanied the pattern. Or was it a high pitched squeal? 

Oh, the creature comforts we have come to know and expect. TV on demand. 24/7. No need to wait a week until the next new episode if you happen to find a new-to-you series on any one of the streaming networks. 

 Streaming, repetitive viewing, movie or television series marathons of sedentary, mindless entertainment. Not only is anything you could ever hope to watch always "on tap", there is no lapse of memory between episodes because you just watched it a few minutes ago.

Yes, I love that I have found an oasis of predictability within this highly unpredictable world of ours. I anticipate losing myself in the world of whatever television series of the moment I happen to be watching. I am comforted by the knowledge I can watch what I want to watch when I want to watch it. If I fall asleep, I don't lose a thing. I just rewind, restart and rewatch what I missed. 

Some people smoke. Others drink. There are many drugs of choice that people lean into when the going gets rough. Me? I like to tune into wherever I last left off in Grey's Anatomy. You have no idea how excited I was to find Private Practice (Grey's Anatomy spin off series) offered on Amazon Prime...

Spin offs. My childhood dreams dared not anticipate some of my favorite characters branching off into a series of their own. 

Life just keeps getting better and better. And smaller and smaller, as I retreat into the mindless, predictable world of all my favorite TV series on repeat.

I'm living in my Field of Dreams. Over and over and over again.

P.S. I may be isolating just a tad too much. Not that there's anything wrong with that!

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.

Time Flies

I have discovered the secret to making the months fly by is to become a bookkeeper, an accountant or any line of work that has monthly deadlines. Add working from home to the mix and these COVID months have flown by so fast I am one of the rare few who wouldn't mind going back to the beginning of all of this and doing it all over again.

Why in the world would a person want time to go by so fast? In all my years of saving, budgeting and paying off debt, "pay day" was the day of the month I most anticipated. It was the day I could knock a few more dollars off my debt load, pay off the bills and bring myself back to zero, or add to my savings (the savings part goes back to my younger, B.D. - Before Debt years). 

It doesn't matter how much or how little I make; how high or low my debt load is; or how comfortable my life should be financially, I tend to find myself recreating scarcity when it comes to my finances.

When I was working full time, paying for daycare, upgrading my wardrobe, putting more dollars into car maintenance and all the costs associated with working I always felt broke. When a window opened where it seemed like I could breathe a little easier, I added retirement savings, insurance and a regular savings plan to my budgeting scheme to ensure all annual bills were anticipated and ready to pay to recreate the feeling of never having quite enough. 

When I opened my daycare, I didn't earn enough to pay the bills at first. I dipped into my RRSP to shingle the roof. I withdrew the un-locked portion of my pension to make ends meet. I did what it took to keep the bills paid. There was no room for saving but I was at home and paying the bills. I was rich in all the ways that mattered. Just not financially.

Eventually, my daycare income became stable enough to sustain our household expenses. Once again I found ways to return to the feeling of scarcity in the budget. Whether it was house repairs or simply extra-curricular spending, I always seemed to find a way to feel like I was one pay cheque away from financial ruin.

Then came The Year of Mom. The year I ran out to Mom's whenever the need or desire arose. My employment situation was flexible enough to allow for me to take time off and go on a whim. This unpaid time off was subsidized by another pension fund withdrawal. I made it work despite the hit to my income.

I should have been on easy street from that point forward but there was the Year of Fly Away Vacations, followed by the Year of Renovations. At each and every juncture I spent just a little more than I had. 

I juggled here and there to keep balancing to zero but at the end of last year's renovations I was officially $5,000.00 in the hole. 

I thought I was in a place where I could easily pay it off in five, $1,000.00 monthly installments. I was so wrong. My annual savings account where I carefully allotted a set monthly amount to cover the larger annual expenses went by the wayside several years ago. One unexpected expense after another delayed my payment strategy. Now that the months are flying by and I have no incoming invitations and life's expenses have become predictable and manageable my debt will be paid in full tomorrow. Yay!!

This will be followed by paying my taxes, then saving for house insurance and car plates/insurance BUT if no unexpected expenses arise, I could be back in the driver's seat of managing my finances by November.

This is a big "if". There are so many unknown variables. In the meantime, I'm grateful for the speed with which I turn over a new calendar page. With each page, comes the hope that I'm one month closer to financial ease. 

Time flies when you are meeting deadlines.

Moving Through Monday

Monday morning felt hard. I wanted to curl up into a cocoon and wait for a metamorphosis to occur. I've been a caterpillar long enough. I just want to regroup and become something more.

I couldn't wrap myself up in a blanket and quit. So I did the next best thing. I set some boundaries to create some of what I needed. 

"This" is what I'm going through. "This" is where I am at right now. "This" is what I need today.

I put my request out into the world and I was granted a reprieve. Once I was given that space to replenish and revive myself, that is exactly what I did.

The moment I was given the gift space and time, the weight of the world was lifted. Once the world got off my shoulders, I had the energy to start. 

Starting feels hard some days. The alternative is not a good one. When you don't begin, the finish line is impossible to see and the task set before you feels impossible.

Start. Just start. Something. Anything. 

So much easier said than done. There is a fine line between taking the time you need to replenish your resources and finding yourself in a place where you feel overwhelmed and incapable.

Been there, done that. I'm sure I'll be there again. 

The cycles of life. If we've done this all before, why does it still feel so hard some days?

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

Unrest

I am loosely paraphrasing something I read recently about dreams.

Dreams written down become goals. Formulating the steps required to attain those goals becomes a plan. Following through on those steps becomes action. Taking action on a dream which was once only a wisp of a dream turns into achieving your dreams.

I used to dream.

I used to visualize where I wanted to be. I often wrote those dreams down. I sometimes added visuals to the dream. Then came the process. Step by step. One small step at a time. Dreams became reality.

I can scour the archives of this blog and my journals to witness the process I unknowingly created time and time and time again.

Unrest instigated the need for change.

Change is a process that required a set of goals.

Goals necessitated action and effort.

Effort was the catalyst of all that followed.

Achieving goals was the reward for all of the above.

The goals were achieved one step at a time. Yes, it was nice to reach the top of that mountain and enjoy the view. In retrospect, I realize I wouldn't have enjoyed the view a fraction of the amount if I hadn't personally overcome all it took to reach the summit.

Unrest. Change. Goals. Effort. Achievement.

Embrace the unrest. It is the catalyst which has the power to take you where you need to go.

New Month, New Rules

I woke up this morning to another day. Another week. Another month. And ... I did not appreciate it for the gift that it was.

I am loving isolation, social distancing and staying home. Loving it. But it is not loving me back.

I have become a shell of a human being. I wake up. I go through the motions. I reward myself with reruns of my favorite TV-series-of-the-moment and snacks. I sleep. Rinse and repeat. Day after day. Weekends are less of the above.

My socialization skills are deteriorating. My keeping-in-touch gene has been deactivated. I have nothing new to talk about, think about, write about so I have less desire to talk/think/write.

Things are not spiraling in a positive direction.

So when I finally peeled myself out of bed this morning, I made a cup of coffee and retreated to my "morning pages".

I basically wrote "What am I going to do different? This week? Today? This morning? This hour? Now?" I should have written these questions sooner because there is a subconscious connection between my fingertips and my heart of hearts. I know my answers. But if I don't write, I don't tend to hear them.

This is what my heart and soul told my brain and eyes:

I have an outline. It is easy to follow. And the best part? I've already crossed two things off my to-do-list for today.

How are you doing? I know the world is opening up a little bit but I'm still fearful to step outside the comfort zone of my little isolated world. How about you?

"We can do hard things" is Glennon Doyle's mantra. Yep. The hard things I can do. It is the easy stuff that trips me up every time.

Here I go again. Rinse and repeat. I've been here before. The evidence is within this blog space. I've searched my own blog enough times to hear the echo of the past in today.

We Have What We Need All Along

I find my day goes better if I simply ride the wave and go with the flow of the tide, wherever the wind blows or simply wherever the next step takes me.

My Tuesday is the equivalent of most people's Monday. It is my first day back into the real world of work, obligations, expectations and (hardest of all) leaving the house for ten hour stretches at a time.

I walked into my work week filled with angst like feelings. I couldn't quite shake them until I reached the end of my day and had to be satisfied with "I did my best".

I walked into yesterday feeling anxious and googled my own blog to find other posts written in angst. I found a little gem where I wrote about a daycare day where no one was meeting anyone's expectations of the day and it went from bad to worse. This was the post which I wrote next:

Right in Our Own Back Yard

This is how I ended my last post:

"Set yourself free today. Don't follow the rules (or mow your lawn or pick your weeds). Let the day flow in and through you just the way it wants to. Don't fight the flow. And see how it goes.

There is beauty in letting the day wash through you. I think I need to take a piece of my own advice. If I'm still standing at the end of the day, I'll try and update you."

Then? I proceeded to follow my own advice and had a most excellent day.

We rolled with the punches. All day. And the day went amazingly well.

We followed where the day took us and even though it didn't take us any further than our own back yard, we had a completely different view and the day took on a glow.

Some clouds rolled in and shaded our deck in the morning so we played in the shade, watched a hydrovac truck pull out our fence post and then the kids got the best gift of all. The guy who pulled out our post invited them to come have a look at the hole he made, a tour of his truck and [insert drum roll here] they got to go "rock picking" in the back alley while we were there.

They brought their rocks back onto the deck with them and they provided no end of entertainment. Peace, contentment and joy were all wrapped up into our morning and I didn't even have to apply sunscreen!

After nap time, my son rigged up a sprinkler hose atop the deck railing and we endured the heatwave in an imaginative and interactive way.

I didn't fight the flow and the day provided exactly what we needed. 

Add a big, noisy truck, a few clouds when needed, some rocks and some water and it equalled contentment in my little world. 

As an added bonus, our fence is finally fixed, so next week we have full run of the back yard again.

Everything we needed was right in our own back yard. Isn't that often the case?

Go ahead and live your day as it unfolds. Do your best. Sometimes what we need the most is right in front of us. We simply have to notice we have what need all along.

Time Warps

I have been thinking of a conversation I had with my sisters when I had just found out I was expecting my youngest son.

I was 37 years old at the time. Ancient. Prior to this new found discovery, I thought I was in the middle stages of raising my (then) youngest son who was 10 years old. My sisters came to visit me without the entanglements of children or husbands. It was just us girls sitting together reflecting on the moment I was in.

I was somewhat envious of my sisters' ability to pick up and go without dependants in tow. Here I was, about to become a new parent at the ripe old age of 37. I remember saying (something to the effect of) "I will be 50 years old before I can go somewhere without kids ... [we laughed] ... you guys will be 59 and 61! [the tone of our laughter changed as we reflected upon this reality]"

Needless to say, those years have come and gone. I have happily packed my bags and gone to my sisters, gone with my sisters and have spent a lot of time enjoying the company of my sisters despite our advancing ages.

The year I turned 50, was the year my middle son moved back home to save up for his eventual move out to his farm. I had a reliable adult on standby and he encouraged me to go out and live my life ("So when you start repeating your stories when you are old, they would be interesting ones").

I went back to school. I went to a dance competition. I joined Zumba and Belly Fit classes. I started taking classes to become a group fitness instructor. I went on an Alaskan cruise. Those are the highlights that come to mind during those years of independence. I did this after I closed my daycare, so I could go back to school and changed my career path to one where I could actually book time off.

Then life took an unexpected turn. The career change was not ideal and I ended up reopening my daycare. With daycaring, came great responsibility. I was bookkeeping Saturdays. Spur of the moment was impossible. My life was not my own. Again. My wings were clipped and I was back to being a responsible stay-at-home adult. I finally completed Dad's families' book of memories during this time. But it all took a toll. I do not look back on those years with great fondness. I was exhausted. I endured.

Then I closed my daycare. Again. My wings regained their strength and I had room to be flexible, do and go places without dependants. But things were changing with Mom. This became the stage in my life I call: "So you THINK you can make plans, huh?!"

My second stint at being independent and carefree became a time I invested wisely. No regrets. I had employers who were incredibly supportive and gave me all the flexibility I needed to be where I wanted to be and go where I needed to go. It was a completely different version of the same phase of my life when I took my extravagant holidays.

Life has evolved once more. I am heavily invested in the work I do. Picking up and going places on the spur of the moment is not my reality. I recently took a broken up holiday to accommodate one of my jobs and upon my return, I felt like I never should have left. I have returned to the phase of life where I have great responsibilities. Not to my children but to my employers. My wings are sitting quietly at my side and I will endure.

Back to the beginning now ...

Twenty two years ago, I was looking at my life in fast forward mode. I was wishing my life and the life of my unborn child away so I could spread my wings and live an independent life. To wish for a life of independence at this stage of my life is to wish for the unthinkable. My ability to dream ... feels elusive to me.

It was only upon reflecting on this cyclical life I lead, I recognized the pattern, the yearning, the need for time to pass and the eventual reality that my independence will come. We don't know what price we must pay for our independence. There may be times we get what we wish for but long for the days we wished away.

I am trying to appreciate the moment I am in without wishing it away. I have one eye on an eventual, partial retirement while the other eye is firmly gripped in reality. Be careful what you wish for.

Sitting with all of my siblings a short while ago, we again had a moment of reflecting where we all would be twenty years from how. There was a thoughtful, reflective pause before I uttered to my oldest sister "You will be turning ninety!". We laughed. Heartily at first. Quietly in the afterglow.

My uncle just celebrated his 90th birthday. It was a time of gathering his siblings together to mark the occasion and breathe in the moments. The family had a few gatherings while he was visiting this summer and his friends and nearby family had a gathering on his actual birthday when he was settled back in at home. His brothers attended each and every one of these occasions.

As I look toward the future that is what I hope for as well. For us to gather and celebrate the moments when they are good and to walk along each other's side when the going gets tough. I don't want to wish this time away. I want to appreciate it ...

Look How Far You've Come

While scrolling through the internet this morning, I found a few words that spoke to me:

Credit to: Goalcast

I thought I would reflect on the year and went to check my blog history. September, 2018? Nothing. Not a post.

I then went to look up my 2018 calendar to fill in the blanks. I couldn't find it. I searched through my income tax papers where I always keep my calendar. Not a thing.

Okay, memory. Kick in. What were you doing a year ago?

I remembered September started by a trip with my brother to see my uncle in Guelph. I remember going to my sister's the weekend after that.

I remember feeling a lightness of heart starting to take hold but without the crutches of my blog or a calendar to look back on my memories faded to black. It was a scary feeling.

I scrambled to scroll back on some old texts to find a frame of reference. I found a text where I was headed out to Lloydminster with my son. After reading a few of the messages before and after this trip I was grounded with the knowledge that I remembered what was written in between the texts.

Once my feet were back on the ground and I was thinking clearly, I found my old calendar. Right where I expected it to be.

I flipped back to September, 2018. One year plus six days ago, I received the Final Clearance Letter for Mom's estate. A sibling trip was planned and we officially wound up everything pertaining to Mom's estate shortly thereafter.

We are planning another sibling trip this upcoming weekend. I will be headed off to see my uncle soon. Other events are mirroring those of one year ago.

Two years ago, the loss of Mom was fresh and I felt broken. A year ago, I was picking up the pieces and healing. This year seems to be a renewed version of the year past.

Life has moved on. There is a lot of the same old, same old. Just the way I like it. It feels like the good old days seasoned with the present.

How far have I come? I have a home renovation to celebrate. I am fortunate enough to still be employed. We are all in good spirits and our family relationships are healthy. I'm standing in a very similar place to where I was a year ago but the landscape has changed a little. I am grateful. So very grateful to be back where I have been but feeling better about it.

How about you? What has the last year brought into your life? I hope there have been rainbows after the rain, strength when you need it, courage to keep putting one foot in front of another and the company of those you enjoy to walk through your days.

It's All Going to Be Okay

Everything happens as it should. It's all going to be okay. Don't overthink this. All will work out exactly as it is meant to be.

These are the phrases I mindlessly wrote over and over again this morning as I wrote my "morning pages" of long hand, free thinking, mindless writing. 

My subconscious mind is speaking to me. Nothing more than that. I have other people's stories on a loop within my mind and these are the lessons that keep coming to the forefront of my thoughts.

I wrote out my three pages and walked away. 

I tended three tasks that were taking up too much real estate in my mind. 

I soothed myself with my morning routines. 

And here I am.

I feel wordless. 

If a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it, does it make a sound?

If I think my thoughts and do not write them, do I exist?

Heavy words to ponder on a wordless kind of day.

Everything is good. I live a blessed life. I have more than my heart can hold. 

Yet I seem to need to remind myself it is all going to be okay today.

So I just thought I'd stop by and write this out loud just in case anyone else needs to hear these words.

Remain hopeful.

It's all going to be okay.

Ohana

"Ohana is an idea in Hawaiian culture. The word "ohana" means family in the Hawaiian language, but in a much wider sense, to include not only one's closer relatives, but also one's cousins, in-laws, friends, race, and other neighbours. The idea is also that family and friends are bound together and everyone must work together and not forget each other." ~ https://simple.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ohana

At one point in our recent sister-visit, the three of us were sitting around the kitchen table when my sister's husband joined in the conversation for a while. My sister married the brother of Mom's sister's husband (Got that? My sister had an aunt who was also her sister-in-law? Clearer? Nope? I'm moving on anyway)...

I had visions of Mom sitting at her sister's kitchen table with her sisters once upon a lifetime ago. I could envision three sisters visiting among themselves with my uncle (my sister's husband's brother) walking in on the conversation. Suddenly I had a feeling of life repeating itself. The essence of Mom and her sisters is woven deeply into the tapestry of our lives. But it was the presence of my sister's husband that made me reflect on the parallel path we are living. 

We spoke of "thinking of Mom and Dad moments". Little things that bring them into our thoughts. Sitting at the table with my sisters brought Mom into my very being. I believe that is why our brother's presence is what I am craving. I yearn for that piece of Dad to join us as we merge our past lives with our future. 

"The idea is also that family and friends are bound together and everyone must work together and not forget each other." I like that idea. I like it very much!

Jamais vu

I was looking through my pictures to depict the feeling of gratitude and quiet joy I feel in my heart this morning. This post was initially going to be of a "gratitude journal" type of theme. 

Then I stumbled upon these eerily similar photos: 

April 25, 2017 7:07 a.m.

August 11, 2019 8:28 a.m.

"Hmmm, Ray. I feel like we've been here before," wordlessly communicated by Jet (who I now realize should have been named "Déjà vu" as he was a mirror image of our cat, André who died a few months prior to Jet's adoption).

October 16, 2013 8:06 a.m.

(Ray is still resting in his "usual" spot, while André rests on the carpet)

Do you think cats have those déjà vu moments too? Or do you think a cat feels like their entire life is on repeat day after day after day? It's no wonder our bored little kitty (Jet) is always stirring up trouble around here. He's tired of living a life where every day feels the same.

Jet is pursuing a life of jamais vu (the feeling that something familiar appears strange and unfamiliar; it is the opposite of déjà vu ~ as defined by quora.com).

May you have a day filled with moments of familiarity, mixed with a renewed perspective to keep your life feeling fresh and new. Happy Jamais Vu to you!!

She's In My Head

Have you ever been watching TV, listening to a song or hearing someone speak when suddenly it feels like someone pulled the unspoken words out of your head and said them aloud?

I have.

Grey's Anatomy seems to speak to a different part of my thoughts each time I watch a rerun of an episode I have watched numerous times before. Last night I was watching an episode where one surgeon was mentoring another and attempting to teach her all she knew before she died of a terminal brain tumor. These doctors spent night and day together at the hospital and the mentor-ship became personal.

When the terminally ill doctor started showing signs that the tumor was progressing, her life hung in the balance throughout the episode. Emotions at the surface, Arizona (the doctor being mentored) started to feel the reality unfolding and these words tumbled out of her:

“She’s in my head ... but I’m not ready for my head to be the only place she exists.”

Mom. I thought of Mom ...

My thoughts became so intertwined with Mom's throughout the years. The feeling escalated throughout her final year and by the end I felt she was as much a part of me, as I was myself. I was lost for a while as I adjusted to losing that part of my former self.

When she died, the feeling of closeness was so palpable. I felt her. I heard her. I predicted what she would have said and how she would have felt. I continued to advocate for her as though she was standing beside me and could hear every word I said.

It has been a gradual process but I have started to feel my own presence dominate once again. I continue to uphold Mom's memory and take a stand when someone misquotes or misunderstands her. But she isn't in my head any more.

Life has moved on without her.

Oprah speaks of the feeling that we are spiritual beings living in a human body. I don't know how much I understand or believe that statement but I do know Mom's energy was so very real right after she died. I felt her presence so keenly. I remember the feeling but I don't feel it so much now.

Someone was speaking of a topic where, in the past, Mom said in no uncertain terms the truth as she knew it. I heard Mom's words, I felt her conviction and I have fought to uphold her truth. The last time I found myself in this conversation I've had many times before, a little of Mom's fire within me had died. I still heard her. I continued to back her up. But the fire was missing.

It was a relief. Yet I missed it.

It has not been quite two years and I still feel like I'm regaining my footing at times. I have hit a new plateau. It feels like the circle of life has cycled around and I'm back to a place I have been before.

... ... ...

I wrote these words and stepped away to make myself some toast.

As soon as I saw my hands carefully spreading the butter to the edges of the toast, I saw Mom's hands buttering toast as she stood at the island in her kitchen. The moment I realized I took too much margarine as I went back for the final swipe, I heard Mom say, "I always try to take the exact amount I need so I don't get toast crumbs in the margarine." I placed the butter knife atop a Kleenex I had used for some minor wipes and swipes this morning and knew I would use this relatively clean tissue to swipe off the knife before I placed it in the dishwasher. I heard Mom again, "I just rip part of a paper towel off to clean off the knife ..."

Yes, I hear you Mom. I always have and I can only assume I always will. Thank you.

Fearless Warriors

Do you ever hear yourself thinking, feeling and saying things you know you have thought, felt and said before and wonder how in the world this new circumstance feels so similar to a past event even though it couldn't be further from where you once were?

If your answer is "no", read no further. This post is not for you. If your answer is "yes", feel free to read on. I may or may not reveal important truths in the paragraphs to come. My fingers haven't written what my brain has figured out yet. I may or may not be in for some surprises myself.

I typed the words my inner self has been feeling into a Google search box this morning. I've been here before. How could something so dissimilar feel the same? I set the words free. Revised them to suit my particular situation better. I searched once again. It was only then, when I finally read the words I was meant to see.

I have been feeling very emotional about a situation lately. In order to manage my own thoughts, I have been talking. I usually hear my answers when I set my words free and hear them outside my head.

I kept hearing other people's words instead. Disbelief. Suggestions. Direction. It sounded simple. Just do "this" or "that" or "the other thing". I kept revising my story in an attempt to reveal the other side of the story. The answer isn't that simple, I would respond time and time again.

I finally heard part of my truth when I started thinking "By not saying anything, I am perpetuating the behaviour that is breaking my soul". I knew I had to come up with a tactic to stop or divert the energy I have been absorbing and turn it around.

Then the day unfolded. I felt powerless. I felt weak. I felt defeated. How can I keep going back into the arena when I don't have a means of defense in place?

I feel like Rocky Balboa. I keep standing up. I keep going back. I feel bruised and battered but I warrior on.

My opponent is waging their own battle. I thought and continue to think that their ability to stand up and go back into the arena is quite possibly harder than the battle I'm having. They are very likely feeling as powerless and defeated as I am, thus they are waging the war of their lifetime.

No one can know what another person is going through. I try. Oh, how I try. I try to put myself in their shoes. I try to borrow the shoes of another fearless warrior and put what I have learned and I try harder.

I tried. I know enough to not fan the flame. I cannot make it worse. But I cannot continue down this path.

This morning, I searched the words that were in my heart. I didn't find an answer. The only thing I found was a revised perspective.

These words: "Rather than interpret this as personal, try to see them for what it is — signs of unbearable suffering."

That is exactly what I was feeling. I was trying my darndest not to take it personally and had been doing okay with that until recently. "Unbearable suffering" ...

This is definitely a post I must walk away from before I hit the "Publish" button. I don't have the whole story. I still don't have a plan. I just hope I have the strength to reroute whatever may come my way today with a renewed perspective and a different vocabulary running through my thoughts.