End of a Month ... Readiness for the Season Ahead

Today would be a very good day to stay home. My clean-up mode has been activated and I'm unsure how long this may last.

It started with my month end financial state of affairs. I have been overspending my pay cheque and I was really looking forward to getting paid this month so I could share the wealth. My credit card is very happy with my generosity. All bills are paid. I am back in the black (in a gray sort of way) again and I am breathing a sigh of relief.

My eye caught the stacks of papers that have been amassing in places I can see out of the corner of my eye as I sit at the computer. They need a place to call home. I found a spot that is good enough for now. Some notations are garbage; others are filed away. Small stuff. But little things pile up and become heavy. It is better to deal with things when they are small.

Then came the revolving stack of paperwork atop of the printer. Each pile was neatly sorted and arranged in the order in which each deed was to be completed and every bill was paid. I believe I had the pile culled down to nil until outdoor renovations began. The outside repair and maintenance project began in May and was not complete until August.

Before renovations were complete, I started planning a life outside of these walls I adore so much. From my son's play in May ... to going to see Cher ... then Oprah ... and another play ... then a family gathering ... going to see Mamma Mia ... and another play ... then a sibling gathering ... and winding up with an upcoming October holiday ... the stack of places to go and things to do has been unending.

I can see the top of the printer again. The accumulation of paperwork involved with everything that has been accomplished over the course of the past six months is almost at an end.

I admit I am relieved to see the top of our printer again. This signifies the end of a busy and expensive few seasons.

The leaves are falling outside and I'm feeling a similar sense of letting things go, going dormant and feeling sufficiently ready to weather whatever comes next.

Fall is a time of letting go and storing up for winter. As much as I complain about winter, I am ready for a season of dormancy. Truth be told, I'm actually looking forward to it.

What about you? Are you ready to shed the excess and settle in and enjoy the winter?

Winter is going to come in one form or another. We can accept it or move on to warmer climates. I think I'll stay.

Overthinking

Overthinking has never worked for me. I have no idea why I keep thinking I can find a better way by thinking too much. But I keep doing what I have done in the past, hoping for better results. So far, my success rate has been pretty close to nil.

Go with the flow

Trust the thoughts you wake up with

Let it go

Keep it simple

Trust the process

These are the mantras I keep trying to teach myself. Yet I continue to overthink far too much.

I spent far too long trying to find a way to make some reservations more economical. I may have saved myself $18.86 ... but then again? Maybe not.

I changed a flexible reservation for accommodations to a non-refundable one. I changed the guests from "three" to "two". Now if someone does take us up on our offer to join us, I will have cost us money.

Sigh.

Let it go. It is a done deal. There is no going back now. 

But there is another life lesson for the books. Don't think so much!!

On the flip side, I learned from yesterday's lesson when our cat playfully tipped my morning smoothie all over me and the surrounding area. I held on tightly to my morning drink and maintained order in one area of my life. I should have let go of the rest.

May you take what you learned yesterday to make today a better day! 

I Needed to Know I Tried

I woke up with thoughts of an irreparable relationship on my mind.

I had recently made a half hearted attempt to step through the past and simply move forward from where we are today. It didn't work.

"I tried." Those were the words I wrote down before I fell asleep last night. I tried.

 When I awoke, those very words were still speaking to me. Had I tried hard enough before everything fell into a state of disrepair? I truly believe I did.

I have held onto an envelope full of "evidence" I have never looked at since this relationship fell apart the final time. This morning, for the first time since I tucked that written correspondence away, I am tempted to reread the contents.

That broken relationship runs through my mind a lot these days.

"There are two sides to every story", I remind people as I relate the tales of my past. I am accountable for my actions. There were two people involved. Both parties were hurt. Innocent parties were hurt. I walked away for the sake of my children and I know in my heart of hearts I did the right thing. I know this. I believe this. I did what I had to do.

But out there, lies someone who is terminally ill. Their days are numbered. I find myself wondering what is going through their mind as they live their final days. I don't profess to know much, if anything, about their life after "us", but I used to know this person well. I just wanted to remind him we made many happy memories together. I loved him as much as knew how at the time. His life made a difference.

It is something I think I would appreciate hearing as my days wound down to a close. I just wanted to "do unto others"...

Out there, is a family who is wounded. I can't begin to imagine the walk they are walking. Everyone handles their pain differently. I believe I am a stranger to their brand of hurt but as a parent, I can only imagine ...

I simply wanted to offer to sit still with them as they feel, live and walk through this time. I'm the last person in the world they want to see but I feel responsible for my part in the past and I had hoped to offer my presence.

I am the wrong person, at the wrong time. But I tried.

The energy of the world knew what I needed before I needed it. I was just about to come home from my day and sit still with my thoughts when another person from another relationship from another time called out and invited me to go for coffee.

This too, was a broken relationship from years gone by. Again, there are two sides to this story. I did my fair share of damage to this relationship. We parted ways but despite the hurt, anger and heart ache we stayed connected throughout the years.

There are two sides to every story.

I am grateful for a parallel story which reminds me that it does take two people to make or break a relationship. Before, during and after. I'm grateful for the reminder that although I am responsible for my side of what went wrong within "us", I'm just as responsible for what has gone right.

I needed to be reminded of this. I am grateful.

I needed to know I have tried. I did. It is time to set this free.

The Universe is Very Chatty Lately

The universe is a vast, wide open, full of possibilities and suggestions. The universe has been opening up to me this weekend and I do believe the ball is now officially in my court. It is my turn to act.

I have had three complete and total days off. Off of everything. No daycare, no bookkeeping, no socializing, no leaving the house, no answering the telephone. The only contact I have had with the outside world in the two days that preceded today are three text messages and one email.

I should be changing my world as I sit here and regain my power by being quiet, still and reflective. It hasn't quite happened that way. I hope this process counts for something. Because it has been a process. It has been slow, I have allowed every little thing in the universe to distract me. But I do believe "it is all part of the plan".

Friday was a day of wondering what ideas I could turn into reality. I scanned the "Rooms for Rent" ads and tried to imagine sharing our home with a complete and total stranger. That didn't sit well with me. A friend of a friend or family member? Perhaps. A complete and total stranger? That is a whole different concept.

So I forged onward.

What happened to my Bed & Breakfast dream? That was my original plan after my daycare days ran their course. I thought of looking into the possibility of working for someone who runs a B & B so I could get a feel for what it would be like. I didn't look too hard but while I was looking, I did a little dreaming. The ideal houses to turn into a B & B are about a hundred years old. Ongoing maintenance, repairs, renovations, additions, not to mention all the nooks and crannies to clean and shine and paint took the shine off of my little dream. I can't even motivate myself to clean and maintain the little home we already have. Shake your head, girl!

As one little dream faded into dust and landed into a pile with the rest of the dirt I have yet to clean, I started to think more realistically. A job. I need a job. So I looked. And I found something I wanted to apply for. I did it. I scared myself silly. Then I lost myself to an afternoon of watching the Gilmore Guys analyze two Gilmore Girls episodes.

So ended my Friday. I sat still with my lost dreams and wasted the day away. I learned two things. Maybe three:

1. I don't want to share our home with a complete stranger. 
2. I am not in a place to open a Bed & Breakfast right now. 
3. I do not want to work at a full-time job. I already have a part-time job. I do know for sure that I want to work a maximum of five days per week. I know this much for sure. 

Then I slept.

I woke up Saturday morning and messages from the universe were pelting me from every direction.

The universe was reminding me to step fully into my decision, absolutely fully, with no looking back. No wondering "What have I done?" No running back and forth, trying to have it both ways, with one foot holding onto enough daycare belongings so I could start again if the going gets tough. I need to "sell everything" and move on.

Okay.

I took that as a cue to start decluttering a few more closets. I ended up in a closet full of books and when I sat down to rest and rethink where I was going from here, I ended up with Susan Jeffer's book "Life is Huge!" in my hands. What an awesome writer, story teller, motivator and encourager.

I got lost in the land of Google as I investigated Susan's other books and seminars. "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway" is speaking to me right now. That is exactly where I am sitting within this life of mine and there is both a book AND a workshop entitled "Discover Your Inner Power - Fear Busting 101". Yes, I checked into flights, accommodations and the cost of the seminar. It exceeded my current total monthly income. There are cheaper ways of doing this. I'll find them.

I felt empowered.

So I picked up a much needed meal from McDonald's because "I deserved a break yesterday" and we have been sacrificing a lot little lately. Then I rested.

I woke up this morning and the incoming messages from the universe just keep coming. "A little progress each day adds up to big results"; "How to Stay Motivated":

S.M.A.R.T Goals are defined as Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, Timely

I cannot sit back and waste this time of great quiet. It is mine to use and use wisely. I was unexpectedly gifted three consecutive days off this weekend and I think it was a test. "How are you going to utilize that which you have been given?"

Have I wasted my time? In a word? Yes. There is so very much more I could have done with the two days that preceded today. Yes, I have cleared out two more closets. Yes, I have started dealing with the excesses within our deep freeze, pantry and kitchen cupboards [more on that another day "What happens to decaffeinated coffee six years after its 'best before' date anyway??].

I still believe clearing out the old is significant of making room for that which is coming. Taking care of what I already have is the sincerest form of gratitude.

I have so much. Everything I need is already within me, our home and what I have learned so far. As I listened to Oprah talk with Caroline Myss yesterday, it was as if they were speaking directly to me. I need to do everything I can do, do it to the best of my ability, with a full and grateful heart, then set it out into the world, knowing I have done everything I can do.

I haven't been giving life my "all" for a very long while. It is time. The universe is knocking me over the head with a 2 by 4 with all of these messages.

Everywhere I look, I find inspiration, encouragement and the wisdom I was not ready to hear until now. I'm listening, world. Now let's see where this takes us....

A Quiet Knowing - If I Empty it They Will Come

I've been enjoying the peacefulness that comes from living in a house that doesn't feel like a daycare zone. It is a little bit blissful to wander into a living room that isn't accessorized by a Little Tikes kitchen, a "princess corner", along with a wall lined with toys that don't fit into the toy cupboard. I can sit with my back to the ball house (which is too large to move out of the living room without being disassembled) and our house feels like a home again.

Bedroom doors are open, the cats are free to roam (and shed) all over the house again, with the exception of our #1 spare room (having three spare bedrooms is confusing, I know), where the queen guest bed resides. I've been opening up the blinds in the previously unused, closed off rooms and the sun is radiating through the house like never before.

We have so much space around us, it is ridiculous. Thank goodness I still have one daycare daughter to tend. She quite enjoys her new play space, access to the books and full run of most of the upstairs. She naps in the closed off spare room, so while I'm tending even one child I feel like I'm getting my money's worth out of our home's square footage.

I feel like I'm rediscovering our home all over again. As it was, when we first moved into this house I seem to find myself gravitating toward the room that started out as a TV room, then my room, then a spare room, then a quiet room and is presently labelled the "play room":

Notice the easy right-hand access to a coffee table, with the computer plugged into an easily accessible wall socket, with a futon adorned with multiple pillow options to support my back and neck (with a cat at my side which is always a pleasant accessory to add to any room). I grabbed the stool for some foot elevation, there is a TV on the wall opposite the futon and there is absolutely everything I need to create a cozy little retreat. It feels like the oasis I call my bedroom. I'm loving it in here!

I am seeing our house through new eyes these days. It is still in a state of transition and many of our rooms are undergoing a bit of an identity crisis but I continue to feel strongly that our house will soon be much too big for our needs.

I sit here and look at the room I'm savoring at the moment. Once all the daycare paraphernalia is removed, all that will remain is a dresser which contains items that could easily re-homed. The closet holds my income tax papers going back to the beginning of our lives here in Saskatoon. I don't believe Revenue Canada will ever ask me to go back 29 years for some document. In all honesty, all that closet requires is a huge, industrial sized personal shredder. This room could be of a no-name, generic variety in the course of a few short hours.

Our "official spare bedroom" holds some of my excess clothing. Clothes that never made the move to my new bedroom. Clothes that haven't been worn, needed or looked at for a year. A few garbage bags and a donation would clean out that closet in two shakes of a lamb's tail (what the heck is that, my fingers wonder as they type?). It is the two under-the-bed storage containers of memories, letters and sentimental belongings under the bed which may take the better part of a month to sort through. Other than that, another room could be de-personalized within an hour or less (if I just pack up those boxes and deal with them at a later date).

Our third spare bedroom was an appointed "office space" at one time. It holds a computer desk, a closet with a shelf or two of notes, letters and information I amassed while collecting stories for my parent's family's books-of-memories. This room contains all the books I have collected over the years, a filing cabinet which I had planned to fill with the required seven years of income tax documentation required by Revenue Canada, but instead it sits empty under a box which holds every income tax return my dad ever filed. I can't quite bear to rid myself of those documents. "There is a story within those documents" is what my quiet inner voice tells me. I hold onto Dad's paperwork for much the same reason I hold onto my own. It is a timeline of Dad's/my life's work. It is part of how I define myself and remember my dad. It may take a lot longer to empty that room. That "office space" holds much more than documents. It contains Dad's life's work and two family's books of memories. Maybe I need to find a vault to hold what this room contains. It is of no use or interest to anyone else but me.

I have one day to work this long, Thanksgiving weekend. I have another day to accumulate another week's worth of items to sell on my favorite on-line auction site. I have invited my family to come share a meal together under our roof on the third day. Thankfully I am not known for my culinary skills, so our meal will not take the entire day to prepare. So I can clean a little, cull a little and think about how I want to redefine our space within this home of ours.

When the clutter and excess are gone, the dressers and closets emptied of everything that is not essential what will be left? How much can I simplify this life of ours over the course of the next three months? How far can I go? And what am I making room for?

There is not one thing whispering in my ear telling me the answers I am seeking. I just keep looking within these walls of ours and hear "Purge and release"and "Make room for change". If I empty it, they will come ...

I'm living in "The Field House of Dreams". I don't know where I'm going but I know what I must do next. That is enough for now.

Purge and Release

It is the day after yet another successful on-line auction of "kid's stuff". It is yet another update on where I am in the saga of de-cluttering the excess of my daycare assets. I sat down and started culling through our basement full of toys on September 5th. By October 5th, all recent purchases should be picked up and paid for. Net total for one month of selling? [drum roll, please] $798.50. Have no fear. All profits to date have been deposited safely into my annual expenses/in-case-of-emergency/home maintenance/holiday(??) savings account. I'm feeling richer by the week.

I must have peaked by now. Surely to goodness that which I list for sale from here on in will not net such a tidy little sum. But do you know what? I have become just a little bit addicted to finding good homes for our belongings. It brings me great joy to not only re-home our well used toys and child tending gear, but to earn a tidy little profit (not really profit when you deduct what I spent to amass this great "wealth") while doing so.

The question is becoming "How much more can I minimize our life?" How deep can I dig? What do we really need now that our family is down to two humans and two cats? Do two people really need five TV's, four computers, a 12 piece setting of dishes, two fridges and a five bedroom house?

I woke up in the middle of the night with thoughts of emptying out the kitchen cupboards, painting them (inside and out) then only refilling them with what we actually use. That became too big of a task to take on in the middle of the night so I turned my thoughts to emptying out one room, purge the excess, paint it and replace only the bed, an empty dresser and perhaps the desk. Maybe I could rent it out to a student ...

One bedroom at a time. Purge, paint and fill it with only the barest of necessities leaving no trace of my personal self behind.

I am one day into my "time of great quiet" and the deep, knowing voice inside of all of my thoughts, emotions and rational thinking is waking me up in the middle of the night telling me to purge and remove my essence from that which is emptied. Purge and make room for change. Purge and move on. Purge and move out. Purge and move into a tiny house in my own back yard and rent out the main house. Purge and release.

Live small. Minimize expenses. Maximize experiences. Make room for quiet. Reduce the work load of cleaning by having little to clean. Make room to dream big.

I feel like Kevin Costner's character in the "Field of Dreams". Make room for it and it will come.

Change is in the Air

I woke up at 4:30 this morning. I was wide eyed, ready to hop out of bed and start my day. I smiled to myself when I realized the cats hadn't had time to rush back onto their spots on my bed to give me the illusion that they had been sleeping soundly with me all night. Yes, they were still prowling and doing heaven only knows what. It sounded like they were working on pulling up some carpeting upstairs. They were doing their cat things and I was alone and awake. It was a glorious 4.79434 seconds.

Cats have an innate sense of knowing when there is a fly or a spider or a human stirring within a 10 ft radius. Yesterday they tracked down a spider and a maple bug (?) and saved the day. This morning, they both raced down the stairs to ensure they didn't miss our making-the-bed-with-a-cat-on-it morning tradition we have.

It is light, fun and easy to wake up when you wake with a smile. It is the littlest things that bring light into my days. I must remember that. There for a very long while, I was looking for the big stuff, but the truest of joy comes from the smallest of things.

I wandered through my morning revelling in the fact that I had three full hours before my day walked in the door. My day. My second last day of an almost full daycare load. This time last week, I was pulling my hair out. Heavens, this time yesterday morning I was feeling great angst about the three days left in my daycare reign. Then we had "yesterday". And I find myself wishing I could find a way to keep doing what I am doing.

I purged my frustrations right here on this very blog platform. As it so very often  happens, when I allow my fingers to tell my story there is a release that is life affirming. When I see my words written out before me, I find affirmation, patterns and possible solutions. There is so much power gained by setting the words that are haunting me free. Words are dangerous things when confined to my brain, within my small, isolated universe. The truth shall set you free ...

I woke up with thoughts of relationships of the courting kind. Those of us who have them. Those of us who don't. I'm sitting on the side of "I don't have that in my life but I think I want to explore it", so my awareness is being drawn to those who seem to be of a similar circumstance or age and drawing new love into their lives. I look at those people like an outsider and wonder "What do they have that I don't? What are they doing that I am not? What do they have that attracts love, romance and partnership into their world?"

In the quietness of my morning, as I made my bed around our cats, the answer came to me. They have a willingness to do the work which is required to make a relationship not only come to life, but to keep resuscitating it time and time again. Relationships are a full on commitment. I know without a doubt that I am kind of lazy that way. Or at least I have been for the last very long while.

I have been on my own for over nine years now. Nine. Nine has been a number which shows up a lot in the cycles within my life. It has been nine years. It is no wonder I am feeling restless and starting to wonder again.

I spent the initial part of my mourning period regrouping. I did it in a rather productive fashion that I wouldn't mind recreating one day. I fixed up the house, the yard and myself in the process. There is much to be gained by painting a fence that doesn't end. I still remember what part of the process I was living as I glance at different sections of our fence. It was a lot of work. Finding "me" after I had started identifying myself as part of a couple was life affirming. I survived. Again.

Then I found my friends again. I reached out and became available as a friend. It started with me feeling the need to be surrounded by friendship. Then as I told my story, others started telling me theirs. It was groundbreaking work. There was a strong foundation being rebuilt. Strength in numbers. We are not alone.

I found myself searching for my roots. I collected family memories, organized them and put together a few family history/memory books. I started reconnecting to family and discovering myself in January of 2008. I amassed and bound my last set of family memories into a book by October of 2014. I spent over six years immersed in the process of feeling like I belong to this thing I call family. My root system is strong, stable and I believe I can now weather any storm.

I feel like I've been wandering aimlessly over the course of the past few years. The honeymoon period of finishing my last book project lasted well into the following year. That was followed by a crash of a subtle and not so subtle kind. I was exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally.

Then came the identity crisis. If I was not part of a couple or a survivor of a broken heart or the collector of family members or the mother of dependent children or good at the job I was doing ... who WAS I??

Life happened and placed me right back into the heart of my family and family home over my summer holidays. I wasn't standing on firm ground before I found myself there but once I was in the thick of family, I became strong again. I knew what I could do and I did it. I found a vital piece of myself within a crisis of minor proportions. I was finding strength within my weakness. I was still a little broken and fractured but I had my root system. I was still standing and I had weathered a long lasting winter.

I didn't know where I was going (I still don't) but my strength is within my roots and my future will come from allowing spring to come into my life.

This must be where this feeling of adding "new life" into my world is coming from. After my last long term relationship ended, I felt so broken I wanted to leap right back into love and heal my heart that way. The longing was real. I was so lonely. I'm glad I took the long road back into finding my way back "home". I am longing for a deepness within my world these days. It very well may not be within the confines of a relationship. I believe it will come from the deepness in my soul, when I become still and quiet and content in the life I am living.

I feel it coming. I don't know what it is. But change is in the air.

Less Clutter = More Energy

I think I'm finally starting to see the light at the end of the excess. These pictures ONLY show one toy zone within our house. There are several more. But this area has been the bane of my existence and one of my reasons for not wanting to clean for far too long. In fact, how can one clean when a room is filled with clutter?

This is my progress:

Sept 6

Sept 11

Sept 26

This is what is up for sale this week:

 

This is what will go up for sale soon:

And this is a combination of items soon to be sold and toys I'm holding onto for as long as my last daycare child remains:

 

Then there are the daycare cots (3), playpens (2), booster seats (2), baby gates and whatever remains outside. It feels like there is no end to the daycare excess within this house of ours.

I have sold 49 items to date. The average selling price of my wares has been $9.25 per item. Almost everything I list for sale has a start bid of $1 to $5. "Demand" kicks up the selling price substantially in many cases. In three weeks, I have made $453.50 and the bids on the items I put up for auction yesterday are up to $76.75 with 36 hours left before my auction closes.

I'm not getting rich but I'm gaining an appreciation for the high cost of living excessively. By paring down the contents within the playroom downstairs, I found myself moving the piano so I could vacuum, dusting and giving the whole house a quick once over with the vacuum cleaner before I called it a day. I walked around with a dust rag and cleaned as I walked along. I still use the term "cleaning" very loosely because at this point it is little more than rolling up the excessive dust dirt (quite literally, when I started swiping at the dust from the cat litter in the laundry room this morning). 

I am feeling lighter and more energetic. I've been at this for four weeks and I easily have four more weeks to go before I start digging into the excessive accumulation of our household goods. Nothing is safe right now. I'm on a mission. The mere fact that I find myself cleaning without intent is nothing short of astounding. There is much energy to be gained by living a less materialistic life.

Taking Care of What I Have

I looked at the clock and it was only 6:00 (p.m.). I had cleaned cat litter, eaten supper, updated our daycare blog and had my day officially done and tied up with a bow. It was only 6:00. It seemed like only yesterday when it felt like I was dragging around hundred pound weights with each step. To accomplish all of these feats and have them all behind me by 6:00 p.m. meant it was time to celebrate. I would jump into my pajamas, snuggle up on the couch and fall asleep in front of the TV. Yes, this is a girl who knows how to party!

Last night was different. I knew there was a chance I may have to leave the house so I didn't leap into my pj's at the first sign of slowing down. I stayed dressed. Then when I sat down on the couch, the only reason I grabbed the blanket was for it to serve as the home base for my mini-pedicure.

I hate when my feet get so rough I feel like I could sand down rough surfaces with them. It's annoying and frustrating because it seems like I barely get those appendages all neat and tidy and smooth to the touch and they need more attention.

Last night, I had the time, energy and motivation to sand down those sandpapery soles. I turned on one of last season's episodes of Grey's Anatomy (so I could be all ready and refresh my memory for tonight's season premiere). I was ready to go to work and settle in to watch some good television.

It seems like only yesterday when the I would be grabbing a bag of chips and calling it a party. Last night? A few foot files, some lotion and I was one happy camper.

I was getting nowhere, fast. It seemed like another case of "it's got to get worse before it gets better". My slightly rough feet started to take on the look of a bearded dragon. Yes, stop and take a look at "Google images" for the picture of a bearded dragon. That was what the heel of my foot and the rest of my roughened up calluses looked like. "There is a reason I pay people to do these things!" rambled through my mind on an endless loop as I tried to justify my overspending in the past. Then I remembered the second file I had just thrown out because it looked so worn. That may serve as a "fine sanding" tool to smooth down these rough edges.

Somewhere under 45 minutes later (I know this, because that is how long it takes to watch Grey's Anatomy without commercials), my feet were as smooth as silk and I still had "money in my pocket" from the savings of not running to get a professional to do the job for me. Granted, I still have 6-1/2 week, worn down, worn off and missing nail polish on those smooth toes. And I didn't even think about "cuticles". Whoa, Nellie! Let's take this one Grey's Anatomy episode at a time now. But I had smooth, silky feet and that was pretty amazing.

I have had so many excuses lately. I don't have the flexibility. That is a big one. It is THE reason I started rationalizing this pedicure idea to start with. I don't have the tools. Well, I do actually. I am simply to lazy to put them to use. I don't have the time. Give me a break. I had all the time in the world. I just didn't care to use my time towards that goal.

I have accumulated so many ways in which I waste money. And time.

Cooking is a big one. It seems I would rather waste a half  hour (or more) and gas to drive somewhere to pick up supper, than I would to take that same time and throw something simple together and call it a meal.

Cleaning is another. Simply put, I don't really clean any more. I wipe and I swipe and I keep things presentable. But I don't clean. Part of my excuse is that I have to get rid of the "stuff" first. There is too much clutter to clean. I'm starting to see the light of day when it comes to the excessive "stuff". My little one year old daycare daughter who is staying on, after all of her friends leave loves to "clean". I think we will spend part of our days cleaning together (she loves nothing better than to sit down and clean toys with me after the rest of the kids go home). I'm not sure how long that game will remain fun but we'll give it a whirl. When I become her only play partner at daycare, we may have to resort to desperate measures.

I have not been taking care of what I have. I have been doing a bare minimum, hiring out what is deemed socially acceptable to pay others to do (isn't getting a pedicure somewhat of a status symbol?). Maybe my little one-year-old daycare buddy and I can start doing some stretching and exercising too. I will have to find some inventive ways to pass time with last daycare daughter left standing. Maybe we can make this work for both of us.

I had a small revelation last night as I tended to my feet, in the comfort of my own home. I have so much. I must start taking care of it. Myself. With the tools that I have on hand. Tend to what I have and want to hold onto, while letting go of the rest is like a weight is lifting off my shoulders. I think I'm going to go weigh myself now. I must have lost at least five pounds with all of this "letting go".

No Definite Plans

It has been a week since I discovered my financially solvent life was briskly coming to an end. I've had a week for the news to sink in and take hold. A week to conspire and plan. A week to work myself into a frenzy. It has been a week and I am firm in my believe "this" is exactly where I want and need to be right now. This temporary lull with no defined outcome is a gift. The gift of being flexible.

I love that I have also been given the gift of stability for three months. Being committed to tending one child versus five feels easy breezy. I am tied to life as I know it for three more months. Life as I know it, without the stress I have been feeling looks and feels very comfortable to me. When I'm comfortable, I make better choices. The very fact that I'm able to look ahead and know I'm in a spot where "flexibility" is my new reality, I feel at peace.

As I cull my way through the excesses of our world, I am looking at the bigger picture. I'm trying to pull "myself" out of much of the space within our home. There is a deep, quiet knowing that I must make room for change. The process of emptying cupboards, closets and drawers is cathartic.

It has almost been 29 years since I moved my little family out here. We arrived with very little. Our first home was furnished with the bare necessities of living and our basement was empty. Our lives were upended within the course of a month and at the end of it all, we had the basics in place to start our new lives with a fresh, new slate.

I don't have a great desire to wipe my slate clean at this point of my life but getting back to the basics, purging the excess and a fresh new beginning with the stability of the life I have built to this point feels right. So very right.

Mom is at a place in her life where I simply want to be able to pack up on a moment's notice and "be there". Everything is fine. There is no need for concern right now. But I simply want to be able to say "I can be there, if you want me to be". I haven't been able to say that before.

There was a short period in my life when I couldn't have cared less what my employer thought. I just picked up and left with no notice and came back when it felt right to come home again. I did that once. I did the same thing during my last holiday. I knew that was what I wanted to create in my life. Room to pick up and leave on a moment's notice.

I am almost there. Three more months. In searching for someone who could move into my life while I move out yesterday, I wrote the words "I could be out by the new year. Just think about it ..." That suggestion came from a recent conversation where we each laid out a glimmer of what we were thinking may lie in our future. A conversation where we said, "I'm just thinking about this", like it was a far fetched dream. I thought of my dream and their dream and the possibility of how we could work together and make both a reality.

My early morning brain to fingertip connection was all lubricated yesterday morning when I laid out the possibility that maybe, just maybe we could work together to make a change within our lives, while each of us held onto the real estate we have adopted as part of "us" and part of our lifestyle. I thought of how I never in a million years would have thought of a collaborative effort if we hadn't had that conversation where each of us spoke the words out loud and said, "This is what I'm thinking about".

I truly believe we have to speak about what we want to bring about. When we say the words out loud, they hold more power to redefine our world than when we simply sit still with them and hold everything inside. The same can be said about the words which have the power to bring us to our knees and hold us down.

Say the words out loud to someone you trust. Give your hopes and your wishes some hope by speaking them aloud. Take the power of the demons of fear, shame, secrecy and embarrassment away by sharing them in some way. Write, speak, sing it out loud. By working together, by sharing that which brings us up and that which brings us down we can change our own little world. When we change the way we look, feel and live our lives we change those around us.

I absolutely love this place where I am at right now. This place of "no definite plans" is empowering me to believe I can go and do and be wherever I need and want to go. By not making definite plans, the world looks and feels entirely different. Because I am starting to feel empowered again, I am also starting to feel like I have something to give again. The life of holding onto everything I had, not wanting to share my time, myself or invite people in was confining me in ways I didn't even realize.

The ability to dream is life affirming. I've said it before and I'll say it again. When I stop dreaming and believing I have the power to turn my hopes into realities, I stop living. When I stop living, my world becomes far too small.

This temporary state of a life with "no definite plans" is exactly where I want to be. It will give me what I need to find out where I want to go next.

Energy Begets Energy

Energy begets energy. I knew this, yet I couldn't muster the energy to turn off the TV, walk out of the room which is my quiet, private oasis and do one hard thing.

I finally did it. I walked out that door and into a room which has been begging to be taken care of for months (maybe a year) on end. I did one hard thing. I made the chaos within the room even bigger and taller and messier. I stood back and took inventory of the excess and knew something had to be done. And I'm doing it.

Suddenly everything in the house, garage, playhouse and yard is on the chopping block. "I don't need you! You must go!!" Then I hop onto Kijiji and offer to give it away for free. I have found there is very little (if anything) in the world that some other person may take, if it is offered for free. Of the nine items listed to give away, I have only one left.

While discerning between selling, giving away or throwing something away there has been precious little which has gone by way of the garbage. A broken weed eater, a paper shredder with a dead motor and a few small slats of wood are all that my friendly neighborhood garbage truck has taken away.

Everything else is or has been sold. I started purging on September 5th. It is now 11 days later and I am $328.25 richer. And I have only nicked the surface of all there is yet to sell. I'm living in a gold mine here. Who knew?!

I have auctioned off most of my items, listed others on Kijiji. Between free stuff and items I have sold, my neighbors must be wondering what is going on with all of the coming and going around here.

I have basically stopped life in its tracks so I can be available whenever it is convenient for others to come and pick up their wares. I have even stayed awake and dressed as late as 9:30 to sell something.

I was weary, I was tired of the day, I wanted to walk away from the computer, crawl into my pajamas and fall into a weary sleep. But I didn't. I waited. And waited. And waited some more, for this person to come pick up their playpen.

While I sat at the computer, I worked. I finally, finally, FINALLY submitted columns to the papers I write for. I thought "this" was going to be it. The night before, I even wrote my pre-resignation email to one of my editors but I didn't have the energy to proofread the articles I was sending so I didn't send it. Then the next day happened.

My weekly letter to my mom had been postponed longer than it should have been. I started writing it on Sunday. I added some more on Monday. I started selling stuff and listing more items for sale in between all the cracks of living my life and I talked to her on the phone on Tuesday and Wednesday.

By Thursday, I thought I had to mail something. Even if it was nothing. So I wrote. Then I started reading my blogs of the past week and I realized something. My words are flowing again. I may not be writing the Great American Novel here but I'm writing. I'm not only purging the excesses within our house but I am starting to let go of some of the words which have been holding such power.

I read back a week, then two. I saw how life has transformed itself and how I felt it coming, embraced it and did my best to make peace with it. There is an energy force which has gripped me and got me back into action. Moving and shaking up the contents of our home has restarted the flow of words.

My life is mirrored by the way our home looks and feels at the moment. It is a bit of a mess. Sometimes you have to pull everything out of the closets and put them into clear sight before you see the way through the mess is and make even a bigger one. Once the closets are emptied, there is room to make way for new life.

I am on my way out of the daycare business. I have "emptied my closets" literally and figuratively. My future feels a little like the way our downstairs playroom looks. It looks chaotic and if I stopped now, it would only get worse. The only way through the mess is to keep moving forward.

Every step forward is a step in the right direction. There is so much yet to be done but I have found a renewable source of energy within one small nugget of wisdom I have always known but always forget when I'm deep in a state of exhaustion. Energy begets energy.

I have been going to bed later, sleeping sounder AND (this is the best part) waking up before my alarm goes off at 5:00 a.m. feeling energized and ready to tackle another day.

I like this energized feeling. I think (I know) the television set was my kryptonite. It took away my power. It was the addiction I turned to, so I wouldn't have to "feel" the discomfort of the life I was (or wasn't) living.

What is zapping your energy? Energy is a renewable resource so if you can walk away from what is depleting you, you just may amaze yourself. Easier said than done. I know. One step in a forward direction will lead you towards where you need to go. Please remind me of this in a week or two when I fall flat on my face, will you?

A Minor Crisis of Epic Proportions

I can feel it with every fibre of my being this morning. I'm starting to rise again. This has been a long time coming. It is my hope that the harder one has to work, the longer one has to wait and the more desperate one becomes before a change, the longer the transformation will last.

I knew this. I knew I was having my "on the floor" moment, minus the crisis. There was no drama, no fanfare nor any one catalyst that drew attention to the fact that I was losing the battle. It was quiet, undramatic and invisible to the naked eye. I was undergoing a minor crisis of epic proportions and the way it presented itself to me was a low grade depression I could not kick, with a side order of annoying little pains and topped off with an optic migraine.

I have never had a migraine headache so I was completely unaware of the optical symptoms which accompany it. My eyes simply went weird on me and it scared my socks off. My over imaginative brain had all sorts of ideas going on inside of it, from something sitting on my optic nerve, to a brain aneurysm, to a tumor, to simply a detached retina. Thankfully it was none of the above. It was a migraine headache without the pain.

Pain without a cause seems to be the common denominator within several of my recent symptoms. A sore wrist turned into a sore thumb when I went for physical therapy to cure a pain that may or may not have existed in the first place (I'm certain it existed otherwise my imagination is taking over my reality and that is too frightening to consider). I told the therapist I had a sore wrist and he "ruined" my thumb on his assumption (or my miscommunication skills) that it was related. On a positive note, my thumb pain has exceeded my wrist pain so I guess that is something. I have yet to recover from one session of physical therapy. This happened the last time went to that very office. The cure was worse than the symptom. Which makes me wonder if I was really feeling physical pain to begin with, or if this was all in my head. The opposite of my painless migraine.

Last week, it was a toothache which woke me up in the middle of the night and lasted for four days. Obviously I was not imagining this because I couldn't eat or place any pressure on that side of my mouth. So I booked an early morning emergency dental appointment to fix whatever was going wrong because I didn't have time to go twice, for something I needed fixed immediately. What happened instead, was they took an X-ray and there was no physical reason for my toothache. The dentist's best guess is that I injured a ligament in  my tooth and only time would heal it. Or else the nerve was dying and a root canal would become necessary eventually. But for that day, there was physically no reason for my pain and nothing he could do to fix it.

What the heck? I came home and wondered if I have reached the age where doctors look at you and decide you aren't worth fixing any more or if I was simply imagining things. This morning, I started thinking of my invisible "rock bottom moment" without a defined crisis to warrant the event and I started to wonder if these physical symptoms without a cause was related. The pain was real in both cases (physically and mentally) but there was no excuse for it.

Hmmm.

I walked into my doctor's office for my annual physical check-up days after my "ocular migraine" feeling absolutely defeated. I felt mentally and physically spent. I didn't know what to do. I was stuck at a crossroad and it looked like a dead end. I wasn't in pain but I was (or must have been) displaying symptoms of arthritis so she offered me a perscription for "Cymbalta".  which treats depression, with the added benefit of alleviating chronic pain disorders such as arthritis. The idea of taking a pill which would fix all that ailed me sounded like the best and easiest way out. I had been trying to dig myself out of the pit I had fallen into for the better part of a year. On my own, I couldn't get a strong foothold before I fell back, with every forward step. "Sign me up!" was all I could think in that very moment. She also suggested taking some arthritic painkillers to help with the no-grade pain that was causing me to slow down.

I felt euphoric when I walked out of that office, thinking I had found my solution. Call it cosmic timing, call it what you may but within a day of that event, I went out to Mom's after she broke her wrist and was dealing with physical pain with a very real and defined cause. All I could think after I returned home from my visit was her insistence that she didn't want to become reliant or addicted to any pain medication. "You feel pain for a reason" was her logic. We countered with the argument "Why feel pain if you don't have to?"

"Why feel pain if you don't have to?" The words haunted me. I stopped taking the arthritic pain killers immediately and a few weeks later, I called my doctor and told her I want to stop taking the Cymbalta. It was after I was weaned off of that medication when my tooth started to ache (well, it was also after I ate some popcorn, so I really thought my toothache was popcorn related). It was after I was told there was no reason for my tooth to ache when I truly started to question what was going on with "me".

Then I listened to another one of Glennon Melton Doyle's podcasts this morning and she talked about "rock bottom moments" and the need to not only FEEL your pain but she has actually found herself running towards it "because that's where the good stuff is" (she writes about it here: http://momastery.com/blog/2015/04/21/pain-mistake/).

I looked back on my "rock bottom moments", the moments when life brought me to my knees and YES! I totally agree and have always said (even before I knew Glennon so well) that these were the moments that changed me, rerouted my life and took me where I needed to go. Pregnant and unmarried at the age of 17, then divorced by age 18; uprooting my life and my family with little more than the clothes on my back at age 27; single and pregnant (again) at the age of 37; alone and broken hearted (after what I KNEW was going to be the relationship which I would last for the rest of my life time) at the age of 46. THESE were all of my "fall to the floor broken, broken hearted" moments that defined me and changed my life. These were awful in the moment but took me to the very best of places.

Then came the more subtle "rock bottom moments". A stream of bad work experiences outside of my home brought me back "home again". I reopened my daycare. I was still broken and wounded. I had learned lessons but I didn't take those lessons and incorporate them into my life moving forward. I simply internalized them. I lived in an insulated world of safety and acceptance for four years. Then came this year. The year of "pain without a cause".

I had hit rock bottom and there was no evidence that I was there. There was no dramatic crash. It was quiet but just as painful. And it was lonely. Lonely because I did not invite anyone into the abyss. "Yes, I'm okay. I went through a tough spell but I learned a lot." I surrounded myself within my insulated world, worked for parents who appreciated and were (are) so very kind to me. Life was good. I had no reason to complain. Except for this low grade pain I couldn't make go away. Was this the reason my body was starting to hurt for no physical reason?

I started my holiday by listening to Glennon Doyle Melton at "The Beautiful Writers Podcast": https://soundcloud.com/user-780938996/martha-beck-glennon-melton-interview-ver-2-7-29-2016 and I knew. I just KNEW I had to close my daycare and take a chance on my future. I was willing to cash in on my pension to fund my transition but I knew it with the certainty that I had to end my marriage once and for all. I knew my life depended on it. I simply KNEW.

The decision to close my daycare has been made with grace, with four month's warning and lots of time for all of us to readjust. My daycare parents, as always, have been nothing but kind to me as I explained my need to close my doors.

In closing one door, I started talking again. By talking, another door opened. By opening up and not pretending I was okay living in discomfort, I found comfort. And the opportunity to earn an income during this transitional phase.

In order for new doors to open, we have to close other doors. Standing in the doorway with one foot in both places is not my way. I'm either "all in" or I'm "all out". I have to be out of one place before I'm ready to step into another.

I have faith in the future but I need to be honest with myself and "real" with the people who walk beside me as I take steps toward uncertainty. I don't need advise or guidance. I simply need to be honest. Every single time I have been honest, I hear honesty echoed back to me. This is the world I want and need to live in. I'm not exactly sure what it looks like right now. But I know I'm one step closer than I was yesterday.

Making Room For More

One step ahead, three steps back. This seems to be the theme to the progress I am making with the whole decluttering, reshuffling and down-sizing quest I have undertaken.

For every room which has been cleaned up and sorted through, a pile of discards have been left in its wake. Some of these items have been hidden in a closet for months on end, others have found their way to the donation heap, a little may have found its way to the garbage and our luckiest possessions have been rehomed.

I clean up one area and make a mess in another. I clean out the excess and bring home more!

My head is in "winter survival mode" and organizing our house to best suit  my daycare's needs has become high priority. What am I going to do with these young bundles of energy all winter long?

Thus, our living room has been turned into a play centre. Our former playroom has changed locations and has taken on the appearance of a "quiet room". It houses the TV, children's books, an old computer (which I just acquired, so we can play the kid's computer games I have amassed) and it is also the nap area for my older kids.

Our playroom downstairs is having a bit of an identity crisis at the moment. It doesn't know what it wants to be. For the most part, it is a toy room with a side order of a huge television which simply does not fit in that room.

I wrote this and walked away for two hours to list a few more items for sale.

While I was rifling through our collection of piano music books, I found the name of a friend-I-had-not-yet-met on my Grade III, Royal Conservatory book of music.

I would have taken this level of music in approximately 1971-72. I met my friend in 1975. We are the best of friends today. Mom must have bought it in the "used" section of a music store. What kind of neat coincidence is that?!

As I continued to move and shuffle, I mused about the excess room we have within our house. We could easily take in a boarder. My thoughts then shifted to another good friend of mine who is in a state of major upheaval in her life. This isn't the location she was looking for, but the peace within these walls?!! That is definitely on her wish list.

If you make room for more, more happens and more comes into your life. I am actually scaring myself a little bit as I cull through the excess. Am I ready for what happens next??

Out With the Old

After our massive house reshuffling event of 2015 a few weekends ago, I ended up with a pile of excess "stuff" we have amassed. I piled it up at the bottom of the stairs instead of finding new hiding places for it. I was pretty sure I could find homes for most of it and I was right.

I had a light daycare day on Monday, so I took individual pictures of this "stuff" so I could advertise it to give away on Kijiji as soon as I could find a free day. Yesterday was not entirely "free" but I thought I could squeeze my free-for-all into a relatively calm daycare day. And I did.

I placed twelve ads in between 8:45 a.m. and 1:30 p.m. and by 5:30, nine out of twelve ads were answered, spoken for and picked up. I have people interested in two of the three items left over and what used to be a pile that was four feet high by two feet across by another five feet in width is all but a memory. Three boxes sit by the front door in anticipation of being picked up this morning and if the other two items don't go, they will be donated (along with the clothes that I must cull through and get rid of - another weekend's project).

I have at least four closets that need a good culling and the job of shedding that which we no longer use is getting a little easier with time.

I don't know what it is about a heart that constricts as it looks at "too much" and doesn't know where to begin. Is it because I'm overwhelmed? Is it fear of letting go? Is it the longing to hold onto what once was? Or the fear of regret, after giving away something I wish we still had?

It feels good to re-home that which we no longer use or want. I could donate this to a cause who would come and pick it up then resell it, with proceeds going towards their overhead and a charity. But there is something that feels very good and very right about cutting out the middleman. I like giving freely and getting the sense that anyone who makes their way to our doorstep to pick it up will most likely utilize that which has been gathering dust around here.

I gaze at the empty spot where everything has been piling up and smile. My load feels a little lighter when I'm not carrying excess baggage. Every time I do this, I almost look forward to the next cathartic purging of our closets and drawers. Almost.

I long for just a little more time within my weeks. Seven days is just not enough. Not if I want to enjoy that new bedroom I moved into a few weeks ago. Mom asked me how I am enjoying it. "I love it!" I told her. "I just wish I could spend more time in it!" Mom wasn't expecting that answer. She had guessed I would be full of regret over my decision. How could I be? I moved everything except my closet into my new "suite". It holds no excess baggage. It is freeing to walk into a room (which resembles a hotel suite, only better because I don't have to move out of it in a day or two) which is not crying out, "De-clutter me!" in this house full of surplus.

It's coming. Out with the old is making room for the new. Or used. A friend just donated her old computer to our daycare last night, in the hope I will be able use the pile of outdated kid's computer games that I have not been able to part with. Yet ...

Can these be saved or are they the next things to go? 

Stay tuned and I'm sure you'll find out, whether you care or not!

Lightening the Load

Decluttering has never been this intense for me before. Is it because I am sifting through at least five years worth of excess? Am I out of practise? Overwhelmed? Belaboring the task? Am I being too picky? Or am I just being thorough?

My son cleared out and cleaned out our garage in June of 2010. I wasn't around when he did it but I gave him full reign to do what he thought best with the contents within the garage. After he was done, it was like a white tornado had ripped through our garage and left the bare bones. It was so clean that we held a party in it.

He wasn't emotionally attached to any of the contents so he had a good eye for what was garbage, what may hold value to someone else and what we really needed within sixteen years of accumulation of "stuff".

I am not sure but I think I remember him telling me he put everything he deemed unnecessary onto the driveway, placed an ad on Kijiji "First come, first served, free-for-all". And what was left over at the end of the day went to the dump.

Quick, efficient, to the point.

He must have got rid of at least two truck loads of "excess". He swept out the garage, hung some Christmas lights, we rented a few tables and voila!

He did the same thing in our downstairs "play room". Whoosh! I stepped out of the house for the day and when I returned, I could barely recognize it was the same place. 

Granted, I lost a few items I thought I "needed" (or could at least still use) during these massive house/garage cleaning frenzies but I promised my son if he took on the job for me, I would not hold him accountable. 

He did the job and he did it swiftly. Like ripping off a band aid. The faster you do it, the less painful it seems.

My son seems to have little trouble paring his belongings down to a bare minimum. He lives in a 750 (?) sq ft home and if it isn't necessary, it doesn't come in the house. End of story.

My sister and her husband downsized to a much smaller home and by extension, their belongings. She also has a grasp of "what to keep and what to throw/give away".

My brother is the same. He even keeps his computer files clean as a whistle and deletes the excess as he goes along. 

I think I'm a little more like my mom. She is a product of the Great Depression. You don't just throw things away that are still usable. Waste not, want not was the motto as they grew up. You don't have to open too many closets within her home to see she still holds onto that belief.

Thus, my conundrum.

I know I have too much "stuff". I know it with every fibre of my being. Whenever I open a drawer or closet or the garage door, I am overwhelmed. I am weighed down with material belongings.

Yet there is so much I have that I cannot simply donate to Value Village. "Household items and clothing" barely scratch the surface of what I am finding. 

Impulse purchases, As-Seen-On-TV extravagances (that I regret "the morning after"), best intentions gone awry, Not to mention all that I have found within the garage and playhouse. None of this stuff fits within the confines of what they are looking for when they ask for donations.

So I have turned to Kijiji. Not like my son, who most likely does it in the most effective manner by just having a free-for-all on the driveway. I don't want to put my address out there for the world to see, nor do I want a collection of window shoppers wandering aimlessly on and off my property.

Instead, I have written numerous ads with pictures, descriptions and "like things together" so my customers get a package deal of things I deem to be related (and thus, get rid of a lot of items with one pick-up).

My excess is finding a suitable home. Someone who has taken time out of their day to seek out and find these items and then come and pick it up. I find this ever-so-much-more rewarding than dumping this off somewhere and abandoning said items. 

I still have a box of household items and clothing that I will donate. I have another pile of toys I plan on putting on an auction site, with a starting bid of $1.00. These items hold some value and this way they go to the home who wants it the most. I have other miscellaneous items listed for sale. 

I have soooo much farther to go in this downsizing event of the year but I find that making a game of it, finding homes for unwanted articles and making a little bit of cash on the side is pushing me forward.

Yes, I could have moved mountains yesterday, instead of only shifting the dirt around. Considering how impossible even this feat felt a few months ago, I will take this as a win. I have found a middle ground between turning into my mom and becoming as efficient as my son (and others) at keeping the excess down to a minimum.

One person's garbage is another person's treasure. As I make my way through the drawers within our home, I am finding lots of treasures. I am so glad to share them with the world!

Holding Onto What is Good

Holding onto what I have verses letting go of the excess and that which is no longer needed has been my challenge of late.

It sounds easier than the reality.

But when I find a good home for items which have been collecting dust for years on end, it does my heart good.

It was almost five months ago when I started a mini decluttering spree. I boxed up and donated a lot of the excess.

At the end of that burst of energy, I ended up with a large box of papers to be shredded, two bags of various electronic equipment which no longer worked (but may be fixable) and an "As Seen on TV" random purchase which could hold some value to someone.

Yesterday was the day I finally dealt with "all of the above".

Kijiji is a wonderful thing. One person's garbage is another person's treasure. I have had close to 100% success with giving away &/or selling most everything I've advertised.

We live in a throw away world. It is cheaper to replace than repair most items. Appliances, electronics, furniture, pens, relationships ... you name it, it is easier to toss out the old and start anew.

So it is with great pleasure that I tell you that there are people out there willing to adopt a broken computer monitor, antiquated bathroom fixtures, printers and disfunctional DVD players. You people are my heroes.

I have only scratched the surface of the excess within our home but since I have been met with such success, I feel encouraged to rummage through the closets to see what else I can donate to the world at large.

Then there was the box of shredding that I just couldn't conquer.

We have a shredder that is on its last legs. It can shred two pieces of paper at a time and the motor heats up and dies after approximately 100 pages. I quite likely had over 2,000 pages of paper within that box sitting beside the printer in the kitchen. I have been chipping away at that task for almost five months and each time I looked at that incompleted task, I chided myself for procrastinating over the world's simplest job. I finally completed that task last night.

Another weight off my shoulder.

In this life of excess, I have been looking at my employment situation wondering which job I can let go, to give myself more breathing room.

My daycare is not only my bread and butter. It is my groceries, my mortgage and my life. My little daycare is equivalent to oxygen. Non negotiable. It stays.

My bookkeeping is a little bit of a thorn in my side. I feel good when I complete a day's work but I am so grateful it is not my "bread and butter". It is more like the jam. Nice to have on the side but not necessary.

My writing feeds my soul. Even when it isn't good, it is therapeutic. This writing out loud gig has been the one weighing heavily on my mind. When what I write isn't relate-able, encouraging, uplifting, thought provoking or slightly humorous from time to time I think I should give this up. Throw it away.

I have my foot in the door with five different publications out in this big, scary world. Do I throw that opportunity away? Or do I capitalize on it?

When I have the energy, conviction and confidence to do so, I normally go out there and "sell my writing" to the world. In the past, I have tried to add just one or two more publications to that list every spring. This past spring, I was depleted. I could not sell myself, let alone my "soul". In fact, I started to believe maybe it was time to throw in my pen and call it quits. I've been hovering in that place of indecision for quite some time now.

Then came my epiphany.

Last week, I decreased the credit limit on one of my credit cards. The one that I plan to utilize for on-line purchases only. The person on the other end of the phone line tried to talk me out of it but I knew it was best to keep my potential for overspending intact so I went ahead and decreased my limit.

Then, this very credit card company had a 0.99% interest offer for seven months, to pay off another credit card (which in turn, would have paid for my recent home renovations). I would have taken advantage of this offer, had my credit limit been what it was last week.

What you give away easily is not readily given back. I called this company to see if I could have my previous credit limit reinstated and it was not as easy as that. I had to apply for this increase of limit and due to my present net income, I would not qualify for that which I already had.

I gave that away so easily. And they would not give it back.

What if I had given away my privilege to write for these newspapers? I suspect it would have been much the same as my credit card company. They would not welcome me back with open arms if I changed my mind next week.

So I have decided to nurture that which I have. I am going to feed my soul by continuing to write. Whether it is good, bad or ugly I shall remain true to myself. Writing about what I know (and feel) best has always served me well.

The biggest compliment I have ever received is when someone on the reading end of my words replies with the simple message "I feel that way too!" It is better than any pay cheque in the world. Knowing we are not alone in our feelings, emotions and life's little challenges is worth its weight in gold.

The "Me too!" connection is the greatest friendship enhancer I know. Go out and spread your honesty with those you know and trust. Feel the connections grow when you put yourself on the line.

I do it (almost) every day. And the days that pay off the best are the days when just one person says "I feel the same way..."

Get rid of the excess emotions of guilt, anger, envy, hurt and whatever else may be weighing you down by saying the words out loud. It releases the pressure. And do you know what? More often than not, you will hear the response "I have felt the same way ..."

You are not alone.

Hold onto that which is good. Don't get rid of that when you are decluttering your life. It's hard to know what you have until you give it away and wish you hadn't.

Maybe that is why I have been having such a hard time with this job of getting rid of the excess. Do it in small increments and only when you are ready. Too much at one time may be a shock to your system.

Think of my paper shredder that overheats when it has done too much. Don't let it get to that point. Just whittle away at it and eventually one day the box will become empty. Only to fill up again ...

Relearning Independence

The day is nearing. My Second Son, His Girlfriend and their Two Dogs will soon be moving out of my home and into their own. They are weaning themselves into their new life on their farm. And in the process, I am being weaned back into independence.

I am grateful that I am learning that full independence isn't all it is cracked up to be. My Son has stepped in and relieved the pressure of Living Independently for (almost) five years.

It has been a little bit wonderful as he gradually took over almost all of the outside maintenance over the course of most of those years. As life-on-their-farm became to take on more of his time last year, I was gently weaned back into lawn care. Winter was another story because he was 'here' more than he was 'there' (on the farm), so he still took over the lion's share of snow removal last winter.

Little odds and ends around the house seem to get taken care of, in a timely matter. We had a few plumbing issues and a mysterious little 'flood' in the basement that My Son simply took care of for me (almost) before I even knew there was a problem.

Caulking, little fix-it jobs here, there and everywhere were completed while I carried on my merry little way and lived my life.

Car troubles? I would ask my son. If I wanted to go on a little getaway, my Middle Son was here for my Youngest Son.

My Second Son's positive, adult presence in our home these past years have set the bar for My Youngest. There has been a Mutual Adoration Society that has evolved over the course of time since my Second Son moved home. My Youngest Son has been witness to it all.

Add two adults and two dogs into a household and it is bound to be a little bit less than an ideal situation for all. But all things considered, I would say that we did a mighty fine job of things overall.

I think that we all knew that the Time of Independence for All was beckoning. It has been for a while. When little things become bigger than they really are, you know you are living the 'real life' - the life between the lines that they do not show on The Waltons or Leave it to Beaver or even The Simpsons.

There has been a mutual dependence that has helped all parties out during my Second Son's Time of Construction. Perhaps not equal in all ways, but I think that we both could honestly say that we each reaped a few benefits along the way.

Will I miss having a handyman living under the same roof? You bet I will! Will I miss the impromptu chats over coffee? Yes! Will I miss simply knowing that I have someone to lean on, if leaning is necessary? More than I ever thought that I would ...

My Second Son and his family are spending more and more (and more) time living on their farm as progress has allowed. They went 'out for the weekend' on Friday night and still have not come home. I was bemoaning the fact that I hate refilling the propane tank and I hate filling the gas tank and I hate buying milk (etc, etc, etc) last night. A lot of the things on my 'hate' list were things that my Second Son has taken over. My Youngest gingerly asked, "Do you suppose that they are spending more and more time away from home, to help you get used to being on your own again?" I would imagine that there are more reasons than just that particular one, but yes ... this time of adjustment is just a small bit easier knowing that it isn't quite our reality. Yet.

But it is coming. It is truly and honestly coming! I am so very, very pleased for all of us. The time has come. It may have actually arrived a year ago ... but now that it is 'this' close, I am grateful for the extra year. That bonus year has given all of us the gift of leaving on good terms. After all that we have been through together, I think the worst time for our separation would have been when things were at their worst.

We have lived through many changes these past (almost) five years. What started out as a temporary, mutually favorable living arrangement became one of necessity for a while. We went through the good, the bad and the ugly and back again. I am simply grateful that it has cycled back to the good stuff, now that our time of separation is nearing.

I must stretch my independent wings again. I've done it before and I will do it again. In all of my adult years, I have never relied on anyone besides myself to take care of life-at-home. It all fell on my shoulders and I carried whatever load I had to carry to raise my young family.

It has been a gift of epic proportions to learn to trust someone enough to lean on. I knew it was temporary. Perhaps I leaned a little too hard at times. Maybe I was weak? Maybe I was testing My Son's threshold? Maybe it was just a passing phase?

Perhaps I am a little bit like someone who has been on bed rest just a little bit longer than was absolutely necessary. I may need to rebuild my strength a little bit as I work my way to full independence once again. But I have a 16-year-old in the wings. A young lad who has watched his older brother step up to the plate and lend a helping hand. I am not counting on him to take over where his older brother left off. But I do believe that he will follow in his footsteps one day. In many ways ... he has already started.

Relearning independence is something that cycles in and out and back into our life again. It is very life affirming to know that you can do hard things.

Here I go. Again...

I Cleaned a Room ... and I Think I Liked It!

It all started when I moved everything related to my dad's family's collection-of-memories into my temporary office (aka - Hotel Oasis) for my solitary 'closed door' holiday at home ...

I had a picnic cooler full of books, research, notes, etc in my bedroom. On top of that, was a binder where I had a printed copy of everything-I-have-written to date. Beside and on top of that?? Well ... that is the beginning of today's tale.

Clearing out those two family-history-related objects from the corner of my bedroom started a chain reaction of events.

One thing led to another ... and another ... and another.

My dresser tops are (almost) clean of clutter, debris and (yes!!!) even dust. I got rid of the pile of unread books on the floor beside my bed and filed them on top of a book shelf in another location. I found a spot for some unused Christmas gift ideas to save for another year. I finally filed the stack of 2012 Christmas cards and photos away...

Then I opened my closet.

At first, I could only deal with that-which-was-on-the-floor. This led to a willingness to let go of that which is only a good memory, when I came upon my first pair of ballroom dance shoes which were worn well past their expiry date. And the pair of ill-fitting shoes that followed those ones. Worn out shoes. Shoes that will never fit me. Let them go, girl ... let them go.

So I did.

Then I came back at my closet the next day and looked at the massive amount of space that ball gowns (that will never fit me again) were taking up. And the massive array of outdated and (now) too small glittery, sparkly tops that I wore when I danced. The Latin costumes that will never see the light of day again. The practice skirts that are far too small ...

I kept a few dance-related items, put the rest in a garment bag and placed them on a clothes rack downstairs along with my ill-fitting dance shoes. I could should sell these items. One day ...

Then ... I was ready to deal with the remainder of my closet. I cannot tell you how many times I have faced that closet and not been willing to let things go. Once I 'filed away' my dance wear, I was ready to deal with the rest.

I now walk into my room and I don't feel burdened by that which was taking up space everywhere I look in my room. Then ... I open my closet doors and I feel free. I am letting go. I am not holding onto items for dear life. When I let some things go ... it opens up room to allow for something new to enter.

I'm not talking about clothes now. I'm talking about 'life'.

When all of the nooks and crannies of your being are clinging on and holding on tightly to dear memories of the past ... you don't have room to let in the future. We don't have to throw away those good memories. We can carefully package them up and simply put them in a carefully selected spot. For now.

'Stuff' doesn't matter. Memories do. 'Stuff' takes up too much space. Memories are a gift that waft in and out of our days like a gentle breeze. 'Stuff' can begin to suffocate you if you let things grow. Memories are gentle reminders that will remain long after the 'stuff' is gone ...

I cannot believe how much lighter I feel. Simply by cleaning out my room. The clutter, the excess, the inability to let go was weighing me down.

I cleaned a room ... and I think I liked it!