After

I did it. I spent the day outside dealing with pinecones, leaves and just a general clean-up around here.

If one compares yesterday's pictures to the ones below, the undiscerning eye may not notice a vast difference: 

But this is the difference my eye is drawn to - the leaf/pinecone pile in the back alley:

Before

After 10 dumped loads of pinecones

That is all.

Waging the War of the Pinecones

Today's mission? Attack the pine cone infestation in the yard.

I wrote those words and immediately went back to my numbers game. How many dollars worth of points have I accumulated on my various rewards/credit cards that reward me for spending? $325.00 worth of "free spending" has amassed while I was busy spending. The leaf blower I have my eye on costs $338.00. 

I like the way life balances out, when I play the games I do with budgeting and spending.

Oh, number$ ... I have missed you so. I'll be back to play within the contents of my spreadsheets after I tend to the yard.

Back yard

Side yard

One HALF of the front yard

(Part of) the other half of the front yard

Driveway - by the street

More of the driveway. Yes, that is still a snow bank in the background.

This is a lot of yard for one who doesn't love nature.

I conquered the bookkeeping and taxes. I can defeat the pinecones.

Until the next wind blows the stockpile the trees are still holding onto.

Life is a Puzzle

I have no idea what I'm going to write. No theme, no outline, no photo to direct my thoughts into one cohesive post. But I'm going to write anyway. It's been a while since I let my fingers do the talking. Let's see what they have to say.

I feel like I'm in a freefall right now. Parachute is not yet engaged, I don't see the ground, I'm just falling.

I'm looking for safety nets but unsure what to ask of them. I need to know they are there but I don't want to use them.

I feel like I'm falling from another galaxy, destination earth, ETA is six months but I don't have a map. I don't know what country I'm going to land in. Will I sink or swim when I get there?

Is there such a thing as a plan? I stopped planning years ago when life started doling out surprise detours on a rather regular basis. I could hear the snide voice inside my head snicker, "So you think you can plan, huh? Heh, heh, heh!"

Life is a puzzle. It starts out with about 5,000,000,000,000,000,000 pieces (or more). One by one, little pieces fall together. 

As an infant, someone else is in control of finding all the edge pieces and creating some groundwork and boundaries. 

As a toddler, you find a few fun, challenging and interesting parts of the puzzle and start putting together the easy parts. 

Teen years? You start looking at other people's puzzles, try forcing your puzzle pieces to fit in. 

Adulthood arrives and you only see a pile of pieces, not yet sorted into manageable colors and themes. The puzzle is overwhelming, so many choices, too much/too little direction. You are an adult. You should be able to figure out this puzzle of life and it may feel like you aren't ready. Or you feel like you are ready and you start off with the pieces that didn't fit in with the whole picture yet. 

You start trying to fit yourself into someone else's puzzle. Find the connecting pieces. Find a way to fit in. You may abandon your own puzzle pieces altogether, as someone else's puzzle looks like a better fit. Mixing up multiple puzzles becomes an onerous task. It is only after multiple attempts, when you realize you have to work on your own puzzle, do the best with what you are given, accept and nurture what you have first, foremost and always.

Many a lifetimes are spent within our own lifetime, finding the right piece to make sense of the unfinished picture. We build up one part of our puzzle to discover there is so much more to decipher.

When we are fortunate, we find little bunches of "easy" pieces. The pictures our eyes pick out and focus on. Our passions. 

Family is trickier. They are mixed in with all the zillions of puzzle pieces. They are familiar but they morph and grow and evolve over time so it's a challenge to find how those pieces fit into the puzzle of life. 

Homes, jobs, teachers, bosses, bullies, caregivers, friends and all the supporting cast within your life. Some of those pieces are a one time event, others carry forward throughout your puzzle of life. A common thread, a theme, encouraging words, hurtful exchanges, tough learning experiences, heart ache and heart break. It's all there, mixed up in those trillions of pieces left to piece together. 

The sky, the trees, the water - always there. Tough to decipher pieces that appear to be identical until we look at them close up and figure out how they fit into the entirety of our picture. Faith, health, inner peace, the air we breath in and out every day. All around us, invisible to the eye. 

Each day, framed by the monotony of life - eating. sleeping, making the bed, cooking, working, caretaking, house and yard maintenance, paying the bills, cleaning the cat litter. The repetition, the necessity of the daily grind that is the structure and constant within the whole. 

We spend our lifetime working on our puzzle. In search of a missing piece. Trying to fit in. Finding a piece we aren't ready for yet but not wanting to abandon it. The discovery that the piece that doesn't fit is from someone else's puzzle. Separating your parents/siblings/partners/children/friends puzzle pieces from your own, while incorporating a portion of their pieces into your picture. Attempting to visualize the entire picture.

Then comes a time when your pieces are dwindling. You know you have a finite amount of time to piece it all together. How do you make some pieces (safety/security, home, health, money) last as long as it takes before your puzzle is complete, when you have no idea how many pieces are left?

Puzzling, isn't it?

On the Other Side

I have made it through what I anticipated would be the hardest day of the week. One hurdle met with a gusto and I was energized on the other side. Another hurdle was easier than anticipated. Hard. But done. Done is good. The third hurdle wasn't one I was anticipating. Those are the ones that can catch us. The unexpected.

As challenging as my day felt, the key players in the other side of this story are the ones who are the heros. For me, it was a day. More specifically, it was hours. For them, it is their life.

A life they didn't ask for or expect. A life that continues to evolve and the hurdles just keep coming. The landscape keeps changing and they are losing control of a life they lived fully.

To open your eyes and wake up to a brand new day feeling like you know what you may expect is a gift. Even if what you expect isn't something that excites you, there is something to be said for even a slightly unremarkable life.

Today, I shall simply appreciate what I often take for granted.

Health - a body and brain that continues to work as expected

Home - shelter from the storms of life and everything within it (even the cat hair)

Happiness - simply content with the life I have and those who play a vital part within it

Independence - the ability to work, pay the bills and live this life as I know it

Yes, life has its moments that challenge us.

When the moment is not a lifetime, we are fortunate.

When we wish a moment we are in would last forever, we are rich.

Even within the hours I found challenging yesterday, 

I found moments that evoked a smile or small chuckle I shared with those in my company.

For that moment,

all was well in the world.

Sometimes ... A Weekend is All You Need

I had a thoroughly restful and relaxed weekend after a week of dealing with a bookkeeping challenge which I had hoped to bring to a close by the end of Friday. I failed.

I apologized to my boss, told her I truly believed I would get to the bottom of things before the week ended but showed her my progress and knew I was on the cusp of solving the great number mystery which has had us scratching our heads for longer than I care to admit.

I woke up yesterday morning, thinking of the progress I made last week, I came up with a plan of attack and I was ready to roll when I walked in the door yesterday morning. She woke up at a similar hour of the morning thinking very parallel thoughts. I don't know whose thoughts invaded whose in the wee hours of the morning but I apologized (again) for "waking her up" at such an ungodly hour with my extra sensory perception which crossed planes with hers at the same time.

We were both of like mind when I presented my case, told her my plan and she simply said, "Do it! It has to get done. It sounds like you are on the right path."

I did it. And it is done. Finally.

I ran my hypothesis up against a copy of the company's books so I didn't harm any of our existing records. All that needs to be done now, is to transfer this knowledge into our company's permanent files and the deed is done.

I filed last week away in my mind and didn't labor over the challenges yet unmet over the course of the weekend. I have the ability to compartmentalize like that. I know. It is a gift. It doesn't always work but when it does, I feel like I'm gifted with the ability to "Do my best at the time. Then let it go. Until next time".

I woke up after the weekend and I was ready to solve what had not been solved before. Sometimes? A weekend is all you really need.

Home, There is no Place Like It!

My West Coast Trekkers have returned. They conquered the trail, battled the elements, survived with what they could carry on their backs and made it back home alive.

I would imagine the West Coast Trail experience is as individual experience as you are. I am eager to hear everyone's individual stories, as much as I would love to listen in on a conversation among their group of four.

The beauty of the trail sounds like a universal "take home". Camaraderie among the fellow trekkers sounds like another. One example was a story about running low on food supplies which was immediately countered with a fellow traveller on the trail willing to share their excess.

The personal challenges of each individual will be interesting to hear as the stories seep out over the course of time. As assuring as it was to travel in a group, I'm almost as certain that travelling as a group presented its own challenges.

As the seventh day on the trail approached, I started feeling antsy about not hearing from anyone. The first contact was made at 11:08 a.m. on the seventh day. "11 kms until we're done the trail". Then nothing until 12:09 the following day. "We are all alive and well. Got off the trail early afternoon yesterday and found a motel ...."

Snippets of the updates that followed revealed the mental exhaustion of the prior week was starting to come to the surface. "Togetherness" is a wonderful thing. But for those who thrive on a lot of mental alone time, finding one's footing in civilization does tend to ignite one's homing device.

What started out as a trip to Victoria for dinner and the anticipation of leisurely enjoyment of living the good life with electricity, running water, dry shelter and readily available food sources became a non-stop drive towards home.

As the sporadic updates came my way, the first thing I asked when the bedraggled survivors showed up on my doorstep 27 hours after the update that "plans have changed a bit..." was if everyone was still speaking to each other.

It wasn't an easy "yes" to my question. I was a little bit relieved to hear the 54 hour old version of that answer, marinated in 27 hours of reflection after they drove the long road home. The answer was still a very positive one.

Upon their return to civilization, there were varying expectations, compounded by the high cost of holidaying in an expensive urban centre, along with a dash of various personality types meshing at the end of over a week of constantly being "on" and around each other.

The one thing my son told me was that he was surprised that he actually wanted to come home after this holiday. He has had the sensation of never wanting to come back after other holiday adventures.

If that is the "take home" after the West Coast Trail experience, I have learned all I need to know about such an undertaking. I am thrilled to see our home at the end of the street upon my return no matter how long or how far I have been away from it. There is a joy I feel within our home that is strong and unmistakable.

There is no place like home! There is no place like home! There is no place like home!



The West Coast Trail is a challenge many may wish to undertake. But for me? If I can force myself out of the house on the weekend to walk to the corner store to buy a Saturday paper, that is just as satisfying.

Home ... there is simply no place like it (in my humble opinion).

The Easy Life

As I sit here living the good life - a life with a roof, clean water, ample food, easy transportation and a bed to sleep on each and every night - I can't help but think of those who don't have easy access to all of the above.

Presently, two of my three sons are out conquering the 75 km long West Coast Trail. They left on their adventure on Sunday. It is now Friday. They have carried everything they need to survive on their backs, spent five nights camping under the stars in (what appears to be) fairly decent weather. 

This morning, they should be nearing their destination. According to the Weather Network, they have woken up to light rain this morning, with 10 to 20 mm of rain predicted throughout the afternoon and evening, with 100% probability of rain overnight.

They have been walking for five days. They are supposedly headed towards the "easier" end of the trail. "Easy" being a relative term, I assume, after conquering the arduous challenges at the beginning of their trek.

Their packs should be a little lighter, having eaten five days worth of their food rations. But the idea of packing up a wet tent to carry on for what should be near the last day(s) of their trek is daunting to me.

My sons are accompanied by their aunt and a girlfriend. I can only guess as to the conditions they have walked through, challenges they have overcome as they test their endurance.

Why people voluntarily sign up for this challenge is beyond my comprehension, yet they do. There is consolation in the knowledge that this is a choice they have made.

As I wake up to a morning where our predicted heatwave is offset by driving to work and working in air conditioned conditions. I am sheltered from all weather conditions, good or bad, yet I still seem to find challenges within the days.

As I pack a light lunch and consider the possibility of picking up some take out item for supper and know that I have a reliable and comfortable ride home at the end of the day, I really must remember life as I know it IS a walk in the park.

There are so very many of those who cannot say the same. For those who do not choose the conditions they are living in and through, I cannot begin to to imagine. 

May your pack feel lighter today. And if you find yourself walking through the rain, tread carefully and may you enjoy nature's shower...

I'm Trying

I need a life.

I have been reflecting on my thoughts this past week, most likely brought on due to upcoming plans where I am pushing myself out of my comfort zone.

Make no mistake. I NEED to be pushed out of this comfortable life I'm living, but part of me is screaming "You are already doing all the hard things! Do you really need to add to the list?"

I am going to work each day without falling to pieces and the reciting the cheer: "You can do this. You CAN do this. You can do hard things", as I propel myself out the door. I'm doing it. And it's okay.

It just makes me love weekends a little more than I probably should.

I am coming upstairs and sitting in natural light. My inclination to stay downstairs in my room and hold a Netflix marathon of watching Gilmore Girls and Grey's Anatomy over and over again. But I'm coming upstairs. I am letting myself be drawn to the light.

It just makes me love heading down into my room at the end of the day a little more than is probably healthy. But I am trying to absorb the daylight, the sunshine and Vitamin D. I'm trying.

I am reading in lieu of watching TV. I am trying to absorb new words and thoughts. I'm trying. It is hard. Words still swim on the page and I got so angry with Harper Lee for her wordiness and (what I felt) was an excessive amount of extra information. But I am trying.

I chose four of Mom's books to take along with me on my upcoming technology free retreat. I will continue to try.

I am writing. It isn't deep, provocative and meaningful writing. But I am writing. I am working to re-establish the brain to fingertip connection.

I have a long way to go but I am doing better than I have done.

I want to eat better. I have an emotional connection to food that is unmistakable. The moment I walk in the door at the end of my hard day of being away from home, I cannot wait to find something to eat. I eat before, during and after the point of it feeling uncomfortable. My stomach physically hurts.

I know I am trying to fill an emptiness that has nothing to do with food. I admit this. I haven't overcome it. But I am searching.

I have come so far but I have so much further yet to go.

I have done the hard things and made some upcoming plans. When I wrote them on the calendar, it didn't hurt. I thought I would be okay. But as each deadline looms, I simply can't wait for it to be done, so I can come home, head downstairs and fill the bottomless abyss with food.

I came home at the end of my 12 hour day away from home last week and ate. There was no hunger involved. Simply emptiness. I panicked at the onset of the day and could not wait for it to be behind me.

This is not living. But I'm doing better than I have done. I feel so sorry for the people involved in this uphill battle I'm waging. "It's not you. It's me."

I can do hard things. When I come home and write them on the calendar, it is another victory for me. One battle at a time. Then come home and rest.

It's all about "coming home" for me. There is simply no place like it.

P.S. I wrote this yesterday afternoon and cancelled my upcoming weekend plans last night. I woke up this morning and read these words (in part) by Glennon Doyle:

1. Be Still
2. Know
3. Do
5. Let It Stand.
~ Glennon Doyle

I'm just going to let it stand. The end.

Layering

As I reread my entirely unnecessary and rambling post from yesterday, I spotted the message within the excessive words. The hidden message was "Everything we learn and do with our lives prepares us for the next step".

Every job I have held, no matter how small, prepared me for the next. The fact that I often seemed to have another job on the side tells me that I was always searching and open to add another layer of experience and looking ways to become more of who I was.

There is nothing I enjoy more than being on the receiving end of a service provided by someone who is well suited for and enjoys the work they do.

A brief conversation with a server at a restaurant revealed why we were so impressed. He replied that he had tried a different line of work but he was told because he was service oriented, he should work in the customer service industry . Whoever planted that seed in his mind deserves a medal. Our server deserves a medal himself, for nurturing that advice. He heard it, pursued it and even if this position is simply a stepping stone to the career he is headed towards, he has found a job that currently honors who he is.

The hospital staff we came across throughout Mom's various hospital visits are a true testament to the hard working medical team who made Mom's visits easier to bear.

We spent a lot of that time in the ER, a place where you know the demands on the staff is high, the line of people waiting to be seen is long and there are limited resources. Yet every single time Mom was admitted and she made mention of others who were worse off and needed more immediate attention than her, she was assured and reassured that she needed medical attention just as much as anyone else. They would treat her with respect, speak to the person she was and proceed to give her their full attention. These were medical professionals who, from what we experienced, were in a job they were perfectly suited for. They were shining stars.

We came across an EMT extraordinaire, who came and checked in on us each time he made a return trip to the hospital with a new patient. I cannot see his face in my mind but I'll never forget his last comment, "It's the Big Bird family!" he made when he spotted all of us gowned up in bright yellow gowns as they took precautions over the "unknown cause" of Mom's stomach troubles (that minor, but unnecessary inconvenience resulted in the necessity of a private room for Mom which, in the end, was a true blessing). I can't imagine the type of person you need to be, to become an EMT. In my opinion, they are superstars. This particular one stands out in my memory but he was last, in a long line of an emergency responders who went above and beyond the call of duty.

My mind veers off in several directions as I replay scenarios in my mind.

When we walk with the current, it often takes us where we need to go even when the path feels like it is filled with unnecessary diversions.

I recently made the comment that I did indeed marry too young and if my life became a "choose your own adventure" storybook and I could go back and change one thing, I said I would choose not to marry at age seventeen. I barely spoke the words when I realized that would mean I would never have had my second son; the chances of relocating close to my roots would have been remote; I most likely would have never made the family connections I have made while researching our family history books; nor would I have been in the time and place I was, when my third child came to be.

I backtracked my thinking and quickly realized that the connective tissue that made my life exactly as it IS would not have happened if I didn't marry who and when I did. I was a shell of who I have become and without the challenges I faced, I fear for who I may not have evolved into being.

Life layers you with experiences. One layer of knowledge, experience, misguided thinking and errors of judgement teaches you what you need to know to take on the next lesson you need. If we take these lessons and lie one on top of the other, keeping what we need to know and paying that forward, we are on our way to living our best life.

My nephew, who has found a way to make a living by making people laugh, said it all when he commented that there was no such thing as a "bad show". Those were the shows that gave him some of the best material to work with. He takes a bad show and makes it better. That, in my humble opinion, is the definition of success. Taking what you are given, turning it around and utilizing it to make the next step as best as you can.

Perfection is a futile expectation but I suppose I will never stop aiming for it, knowing that aiming high will take me where I need to go. Making mistakes along the way is to be expected and necessary. If we attained perfection immediately, we wouldn't learn what we need to know to become better.

It is the mistakes, missteps, misguided decisions and diversions that has taught me everything I need to know, to be who I am. Who I am is always in need of improvement, new hopes, dreams and goals.

There is something that changes when one reaches the final semester of life. Fear of failing becomes a little more crippling because it is accompanied by the sense that there is not as much time to recover from a fall.

Fear of falling. Fear of failing. Fear of losing. It all equals a fear of living. This is where I seem to be hovering. I know I can't remain in this phase very long so I am trying to insulate myself with the knowledge and understanding that life has taught me everything I need to know to take another tentative step.

Take what you have and carry it forward with you, knowing it will take you where you need to go. Just like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, she had the power all along; she had to learn it for herself.

"If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own backyard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with! Is that right?" ~ Dorothy, "The Wizard of Oz"

Challenging Times

Life is hard some days. Yesterday was one of those days. Actually pretty much every day this week has been hard.

I came home last night and was tempted to erase the memory of the day by ingesting the remainder of the coolers I still have left over from last summer. I was pretty sure it would would not work and I didn't want to add a hangover to my list of woes, so I had a shower and washed all my troubles down the drain instead.

"Why is this so hard?" I ask myself again and again and again. Then it hit me. I have hit another parallel with the walk I walked last year with Mom.

There is a sense of antsiness/angst among my senior lady friends.

One is feeling the need to rush into spring clean up. Our snow just melted last weekend and since the moment I walked in the door on Monday, there has been a sense of urgency to get things done. I compare the conversations we had this year to the same ones we had last year.

Something has changed. It is subtle. But it is tangible. It reminds me of Mom's urgency to buy and plant her bedding plants last year. I did what she asked and it all worked out fine. But she questioned that decision as the summer wore on. "It was pretty early, wasn't it?"

Once I recognized the similarity of the situation, I belittled myself for not simply going forward with doing a spring chore slightly ahead of schedule. What does it hurt? It will take the edge off her unease. Just do it. Why in the world did I want to stall? What worked last year isn't working this year.

My heart clenches a little at the thought. It is a small thing. It really doesn't matter. But it is a change that is reminiscent of last spring with Mom. My head is trying to talk my heart out of feeling the emotion...

"It isn't the same. It is different. Just go with the flow. It's okay. It's going to be okay..."

There is really no need to argue. Except when doing a job when working with numbers, the need to balance and trying to get to the bottom of a math puzzle.

I am sorry to say I have stood my side of an argument too many times of late. This goes against my grain. It is everything I am not, nor who I want to be. But being agreeable, nodding and smiling doesn't work when you need to know the right way to the final answer.

"It's good that you challenge me", I was told yesterday. I am trying so hard not to be difficult. Either I don't understand and I'm way off base or I do understand and I can't find the right way to demonstrate it. Either way, it is so very, very hard to have these "challenges" with someone who is hurting, healing, unable to sleep and feeling the anxiety of not being able to do this on her own. But dealing with someone who challenges her? This situation is not comfortable for either one of us.

This is all far too familiar. The worse Mom felt, the harder it became for her to temper her thoughts. The week before Mom died, I wrote an email to my siblings. It was long and wordy, but the sentence I recalled yesterday as I was fighting the emotions I was feeling in the moment was this: "This "state of being certain" about something that has not quite happened the way she remembers it, seems to be happening a little more than I've noticed before. There is really no sense in arguing and I discovered the best way through these little moments is to drop the conversation, don't push the point or feel the need to be right."

I believe my knees may have buckled as I remembered my own advice and tried to re-work my strategy yesterday. I've walked this walk before.

I don't know the right way to navigate this path other than taking what I know and incorporating it into the walk I'm walking right now. One step at a time. One day at a time.

No regrets. The goal I'm aiming for is to forge my way through this time and not regret the way I have handled a situation. I know this is different but man, it feels so similar! The emotions are the same. My concern for my friends is the same.

I am dealing with people who are living within a body that is not working the way they are accustomed to it working. The anxiety I am picking up on is quite possibly the fear they have as they navigate the world in a body that is betraying them.

I remember this well.

I went and reread the email I wrote to my siblings that day. I ended it with this parting thought: "I'm going to enjoy this for as long as it lasts. One never knows what tomorrow could bring."

Mom died eight days later. Make the most of your moments. One never knows how long they will last. When we are lucky, the "challenging" ones are short lived as well.

Meditation 101

Meditation. I need this. I should learn how to do this. It would be good for me. I can tell, by my complete inability to follow through on any one thought, task or sentence (in fact I had to come back and finish this uncompleted sentence that I left dangling on my first write through).

The chatter in my head is driving me batty. The guilt, the fear and simply the overwhelmed state of my thoughts is running rampant within my thoughts and I'm stuck. Thankfully I'm emptying closets (slowly) so I have something to account for all of my spare time lately. But honestly? If someone was to ask me what I have accomplished lately, I think all I really have to say is "I have been thinking".

So I enrolled in Oprah and Deepak Chopra's 21 Day Meditation Experience yesterday morning. It was an interesting experiment.

Number 1 - If you have cats, you cannot meditate. Unless they are fast asleep. Do cats ever sleep soundly?

I shall set the stage. I sat down in the living room and set my gaze upon a street light outside. Just get yourself into a trance and lose yourself was my mantra. Sit, gaze, listen, declutter my brain.

Then I heard a cat. It sounded like Jet was eating the fresh roll of toilet paper I just brought out (his favorite). I paused the meditative state and raced to the bathroom. Jet wasn't attacking the toilet paper. He was playing in the "cat toy drawer". It doesn't matter. Let it go. These were my first mantras of the morning.

So I sat down again and pressed "Play".

A few calm moments later, I realized I needed to make an urgent trip to the bathroom myself. I paused again. On my way back to the couch, I thought "This is interesting and relaxing. I'll just grab my coffee ..."

I curled up on the couch with my coffee in hand and set my gaze upon that streetlight once again. Now I was ready to be still and "meditate". Then Deepak told me to get comfortable because "this" was when we were going to start to meditate.

I rustled around on the couch and missed everything he said while all this noise was going on in and around my head. Okay. I was ready. I would just rewind the video and start from a few minutes prior. But the video wouldn't let me rewind. What?!! I guess that is lesson #1 - when meditating, there is no need to rewind. Because you are still. And quiet. And in a hypnotic state. And you can't move yourself out of your comfortable spot. Because you are in the zone.

I tuned back in when Deepak was telling me what to chant in my head as I sat still and emptied my brain of thought. "Aham Prema". He told me what these words meant "I am love". These are my thoughts that followed:

Okay. Aham Prema. Aham Prema. Aham Prema, breathe, listen to my breath, breathe deeply ... What does that mean again? I can't remember. What was I supposed to be chanting in my mind again? I can't remember. How do I stop thinking? I didn't hear what he told me. I can't rewind. I can't remember the mantra. What are the cats doing? What do I need to be doing? I'm missing Kelly's radio show ...

The end. I give up. I can't do this, this morning. I can't stop the flow of words and they won't let me rewind the tape. How unfair! I quit!

Then I tuned into my nephew's new radio show and lived a very distracted morning as I blogged, checked my banking transactions, rechecked my budget, wondered about my financial future, pondered some financial forecasts, blogged some more, laughed a little as my nephew tickled my funny bone, checked out a few blogs, returned to my own blogging, made coffee, watched the cats at play, made more coffee and basically had the most un-meditative kind of morning ever.

This morning, I woke up at about 4:15 a.m. and felt pretty wakeful. It was too early to get up so I had a brainwave. I brought the computer into my room, turned on Oprah and Deepak's meditation series again and tried very hard.

This was working! I woke up the cats when I ran to get the computer but as I nestled back into bed, so did they. Jet snuggled in at my feet; Ray at my side. They cat napped and I listened to Oprah and Deepak's calm, relaxing voices and tried very, very hard to follow their instructions. There was no need to rewind because I got comfortable before I pressed "Play". I just sat and listened and breathed and tried to remember the mantra (I keep forgetting those words). Suddenly, I was back where I was yesterday morning.

What was I supposed to be chanting? What does it mean? What is the centering thought? What did they say? Why am I thinking? Why can't I stop .... breathe. In ... out ... focus on breathing ... deep breaths ... in ... out .... ... .... ...

Then I woke up when Deepak chimed his bell or whatever it was that he said he was going to do to signal the end of our meditation.

Does meditation count if you sleep through it? How do you turn off your thoughts? What was our centering thought of the day again? Did I hear anything? Why can't I remember??

Just ask me about the vivid dream I had just before I woke up before all of this meditation this morning. I remember it well. I was being robbed and I was very calm as I tried to help the perpetrators of the crime. I tried to humanize myself and them and I talked oh, so calmly. I handled it like a champ.

But do I know what Oprah and Deepak told me to focus on today? I need a workbook to go along with the meditation. Words alone do not penetrate the protective layer of words, thoughts, worries and guilt. I need to be fully engaged. I need to sit still, read, write notes and answer questions. Then I'm ready to absorb the words I have been given.

Do I need this? I think so. I think this state of quiet mindlessness and not thinking in words will help to centre me and still the chaos in my mind.

How do I accomplish this feat set out before me? I will Google that. There must be a place where I can read, write and interact with some information that teaches me how to still my mind. Maybe yoga is where it is at for me.

A Little Help From Our Friends

It is not my tendency to lean on others when I need a little help. Thank goodness there are times when I'm pushed above and beyond my maximum weight load. Because there is a very good lesson to be learned when we stop feeling the need to carry our burdens alone. Sometimes a little help from our friends (and/or family) lift us up, beyond and through moments where you simply can't find your way.

My specific lesson has come in the form of a daycare load and set of challenges that have had me pulling my hair out and quite literally ready to jump overboard. Most likely into shark infested waters, but I really didn't care.

I did everything I knew how to do, I thought of giving up and quitting, I faced things head on and then I asked for help.

My youngest son is on a brief hiatus between graduating from high school and setting off into the work world. The timing was perfect. He is not under any pressure from school or a job and seems pretty capable of lending a helping hand to a mom in need. He has been my right hand man within my daycare for most of his life, so he knows the ropes. No training was necessary. I asked if he would consider helping me out and it was an easy "yes" from him once he realized it was a paying proposition.

His first day was "Friday". Friday was the first day of the rest of our daycare lives, for as far as my eyes can see. My daycare is full to the brim. I have my maximum of preschool children and trust me, these maximums are in place for a very good reason.

A mom who has been on maternity leave went back to work on Monday. Her first born son continued to come to daycare three days a week throughout her maternity leave and his little brother has come for several "practise run" days. We usually have enough trial runs to help ease everyone through the transition of a new mom leaving her baby at daycare before the first day of work. We usually have a sense of "we will be okay" as we work out the kinks.

That didn't happen this time, despite the number of practise days we had. I was desperate. I didn't think I could do it. I talked to the mom, but not before I had a chance to talk with my son and offer him a temporary, part time job to help me get through the first several weeks. Thankfully he said yes, because I didn't have a very good fall-back plan if he had turned me down.

Friday was his first day. And he literally "saved the day" on so many levels. Not only did he lend a helping hand and an extra set of eyes and ears, but he calmed my new little one-year-old who I have not been able to calm myself. He offered me perspective, quiet suggestions and a sense of peace that calmed ME and helped me through the day. Not only that, but there were at least a few occasions where he saw the exact challenges that have me stumped. At one point, he simply said, "I don't even know what to say to that" with defeat in his voice, when one of the "attitudes" reared its ugly head. Then at the very end of the day, he said, "I only helped out 4-1/2 hours but I am physically tired!"

I simply felt validated. I wasn't making this stuff up. It IS hard, this work I do. The challenges I see are REAL, I'm not imagining this. And there IS a reason for my exhaustion.

I had so much energy at the end of my Friday that I actually went out and ran errands for the better part of the evening. I never EVER feel that way at the end of a day, let alone at the end of a week!

We were half way through our Monday and I was actually able to tell my son,"I've got it from here if you want to quit now" (I have tentatively "booked" him for three hours per day for the next three weeks). Friday, I asked him to stay a little bit longer three times, until he had worked an hour and a half beyond our agreed upon time span.

I am seeing the light again. There are issues I need to address but at least I can do so with a clearer understanding of my limits and "what is in the best interests of the child". My desperation level has levelled off and I think I'm ready for round three. And I just heard it drive up the driveway ...

A New Day

Life feels a little brighter this morning. The sun is shining, the sky is blue and I managed to send off another month's worth of columns. That deadline gets harder and harder to meet with each passing month. As I told my editors, "I think I need to live a more interesting life. Either that, or get very very quiet and see if I can hear the inner stirrings of my mind again. Technology is sure “noisy”, isn’t it??"

There is much truth to that statement.

My life has become very tedious. So tedious that I am placing too much energy on things that don't deserve that much space in my brain. This is a quality within myself that I most want to change. "Do what is within my power to change a situation where I feel powerless" is a motto I adopted since I opened up my daycare. It has served me well but it is getting harder to force myself to summon the courage and energy to do what is within my power.

I had a hard conversation yesterday. I hope it results in a positive change. I felt awful for saying what I had to say but it would have been worse to say nothing and keep forging ahead as if everything was okay. Sometimes we have to admit things aren't okay then take forward steps from that point onward.

The inadequacies I feel when I put off the inevitable become all encompassing and drain every last bit of energy I have left within me. This is not a good thing. Especially when my energy levels are already hovering at a near all time low. Pushing through and submitting my columns should energize me and push me through the month ahead of me. It could if I let it. One hard thing at a time. That is all anyone can do. One more hard thing today and maybe I can gain some momentum.

I crave a little more "interest" within my life but I'm not certain I have the energy to sustain it over the long term. Then again, if I just did one "hard thing" per day maybe I could sustain my energy levels a little better. Then again, maybe if I lived a life I was more interested in living maybe that would create a new found source of energy. A small "Catch 22" perhaps?

I do know one thing for sure. I am far too attached to my electronic gadgets, my ability to watch "Gilmore Girls" on Netflix any time I want and this "Facebook" addiction must go.

In a purely whimsical moment, I updated my profile picture to highlight my "young" back-of-head and back-of-self (only to my waist, of course!!). No face, no wish to go fishing for compliments. I simply thought I was pretty funny (yes, it was late and I was highly caffeinated). The amount of attention that profile picture received was ridiculous. There were (perhaps) two people who appeared to appreciate my humor. Now I'm embarrassed to change it again because I don't want to seem like I need the validation, now that I have changed my mind.

In the meantime, I must sit back and enjoy this day to the fullest. It is officially my last daycare day before my daycare world goes through its next transitional phase. I've called in reinforcements to help me through but I'm not rich enough to pay someone to help me do my job. I'm going to try my best, be open to do what it takes to get through the day and try and conquer this mountain ahead of me. I don't know if I have trained well enough to get to the top. Then again, I hear the descent is even harder than the climb. I haven't "climbed a mountain" lately. I guess it is time to see what I'm made of. This could be good fodder for my writing. We'll see.

Let's just enjoy today and let tomorrow take care of itself. Okay?

Walking Adventures

I'm feeling a little tapped out after five days of waking early enough to walk for an hour before my work day begins. I really just wanted to stay home this morning but my body was ready to wake up with my alarm so I took it out for a walk to appease it.

It was warm and muggy outside. These are the conditions I hoped to avoid by walking at 5:00 a.m., so I cut myself some slack and only made myself walk a half hour this morning. A half hour is better than nothing. And walking in sauna like conditions must count for something, right?

So here I sit. Just a tiny bit weary and the enthusiasm I felt when I started out on this "moving" habit is waning. I guess it is time to change it up a bit. I need to incorporate some form of exercise into this moving business. I'll check into that later.

After I had walked three hours in three days and dealt with the repercussions of that decision (a blister on the callus on my bunion and numb hands at the end of my walk) on day four (moleskin is AMAZING for minor foot ailments and holding my hands up to waist level as I walk cured my tingling hands), I couldn't help but think of the trek my brother is about to set out on.

My brother has made the fully conscious decision to walk the "West Coast Trail" with a friend of his next week. What is the West Coast Trail you ask? I googled it and I came up with my very own definition: A week long trek in miserable walking conditions where you have to pack and carry everything you need to eat, sleep on and in, wear and maintain yourself for a week.  Oh yes, and your travel mates may be bears or cougars. The absolutely only consolation prize I could find for this trek without a bed or room service, is that there are some bathroom facilities (I can only imagine how rustic) sprinkled along the path. There is really no consolation prize. There are NO outhouses along the way. Only at designated campsites.

I walked for four hours in four days, without carrying a thing and I had to come up with remedies to make walking the next day possible. All I can think of is the condition my feet were in, after walking the Strip in Las Vegas with my sister. I can't remember how many hours we logged that day but my tender, blistered toes could not tolerate being enclosed by a shoe the next morning. What if we had been camped out on the West Coast Trail where we couldn't catch a bus to try and find some open toed sandals for me to wear home? I highly doubt they would send in a helicopter because of blistered toes. But then again, if you were running for your life (I am kidding - you are never supposed to RUN from a bear or cougar. You are supposed to move very slowly), the last thing one would have on their mind was their sore feet.

Carrying a back pack, with a week load full of food, supplies and accommodations makes me think of my flyer route days. The days when I packed up to fifty pounds of newspapers on my back and delivered them. At least I had the reward of lightening my load along the way. These guys? The only lightening of their load will be the food they eat. They must carry all garbage back with them. And water? I read of "water purification kits" that they could pack along. I don't think it would be possible to carry a week's worth of water on their back, so this must be the route they must take. My stomach does a slight turn at the thought of "water purification gone awry" and ending up with a dire stomach ailment that may not make it to the next outhouse along their way.

They will have to walk no matter what the conditions are. They won't have the choice to "come home early" because it is muggy outside. Or too hot. Or too cold. Or too anything. They get to choose their pace and it is recommended to choose a pace where you can enjoy the sights you see along the way. As I dodge caterpillars and webs hanging from overgrown trees as I walk down the city streets, I simply cannot imagine seeing much beyond the immediate peril I was avoiding at any given moment in time.

One would think there must be a huge financial reward and compensation for enduring this ordeal. Right? I got paid for delivering flyers. The pay rate for staying safe, fed and able to walk for a week without any of the creature comforts of home must come with a pay back. Right? WRONG! All costs come out of their own pocket. Not only that, but they are incurring costs to fly out to go on this adventure and using up valuable vacation time from their places of employment. I don't understand this. Who would make this conscious, expensive, well thought out and calculated decision? My brother and his buddy. That's who.

I would like to know the rigors of preparing for a trek like this one. Surely a day walking The Strip in Vegas wouldn't count, would it? But it is the only thing I can imagine that could compare (with the added bonus of carrying the equivalent of a full load of flyers on my back, that I didn't get to deliver to anyone).

I'm sure my brother has all contingencies well thought out in advance. He has been in training for this for quite some time and I'm certain his body, mind and soul are all ready and set to go. He sounds like he is ready to meet this challenge head on. And that, he will.

My only advice? Pack blister bandages and moleskin padding. And don't let your arms dangle while you are walking. That is all I know for sure.

I can't wait to hear the rest of this story upon my brother's return to civilization. I'm sure there will be a "book" in there somewhere. I just hope he takes good notes along the way. One other suggestion? Pack something so you can record your thoughts as you make your way. Yours is a story I would really like to hear!

Eking Out a Life

Anxieties are creeping up on me again. Twenty more minutes before I must walk out the door to work. Month end expenses have me thinking about my cash flow. Columns are due again. To continue or quit my extra-curricular writing? Daycare challenges. The job of living life just feels "big".

On the flip side, I have been meeting some of my financial challenges by cashing in on Air Miles, reward points on my credit cards and I finally dipped into my Christmas gift money to cover my extra curricular spending of late. It has been fun spending money without spending actual money.

I seem to face my financial demands head on and things have a way of working out in the end. I know "barely eking by" is not going to work for me in the long haul. I need to work on decreasing my debt load and accumulating some savings.

I typed those words and stopped.

Suddenly the memory of the "frugal me" flashed through my mind and I shut down. The time of great spending and loosening my purse strings correlated with a time of great change and revival for me.

I have to get past the idea that spending money equates to a state of happiness. It is one thing to spend what you have left over, after you tend to some long term financial planning. It is quite another to overspend and wrack up your debt load to the maximum you can carry.

Perhaps that is why I feel so bogged down right now. My spring renovations have exceeded what I should have spent. I have not left myself a "safety net". If I fall from the precipice I am standing on right now, I could land flat on my face.

I have a financial forecast that looks much better than my present day situation. I just have to weather a few sparse months and I'll be just fine. I always am.

I think the biggest demon in my life right now is "time". If I wake up early to grab what I need, I have nothing left in me after 6:00 p.m. Talking to people, going out or planning anything after 6:30 feels like a weight has been placed on my head and I'm sinking fast. The challenge of "walking three times a week, without my daycare family" is absolutely overwhelming to me. Where will I make/find the time to do that??

My time is up. I must do hard things and leave the house. Again. My challenge will be to do as many other hard things as I possibly can while I am already out of the house so I can wrap myself up in my cocoon tomorrow.

This is not living. It is getting by. It is existing. It is eking out a living but not living a life. Something has to change. It all begins with that person I face each morning in the mirror. I'll have a talk with her later.

Challenged

I met up with my very own personal "personal trainer" this past weekend. I told her my plight. I need to get this tired, squeaky, out-of-shape body moving again but I have many little quirks going on and I need to be careful I don't damage my feet, neck, back and joints in the process.

My friend listened to my tales of woe about my excuses about why I have all but stopped moving. I know most of my idleness is completely my own choosing and I'm grateful my daycare "career" keeps me moving as much as I do (bookkeeping on a full-time basis would have seized me up completely). But I know I need to push myself harder than I do.

At the end of my weekend, I was given three challenges:

1. Go for a good, long walk (she recommended walking on our riverbank trails) three times a week. Walks with the kids don't count. 
2. Bring my donated exercise bike in from the garage and watch TV while I cycle twice a week.
3. Do one thing that pushes me out of my comfort zone .

That sounded easy. Until I got home.

At the end of my first day back, I asked my son to help me move the exercise bike downstairs. I tried it out while it was still outside and though I was sceptical that it worked properly, I thought it worked good enough to make the move.

I adjusted the seat, cleaned it up and hopped onto it for a ride to no where. No where is a tedious destination when you have nothing to challenge you and are sitting on a very uncomfortable bike seat to boot. I couldn't adjust the tension, but I could adjust my speed. I would try to go fast for a while then just try to keep pedalling. There were some numbers that may have been calculating my speed but they were hard to see and they didn't make sense.

I believe I gave the bike twenty minutes before I "filed" it away for another day (lifetime). Thoughts of "I think I could advertise this for "FREE" on Kijiji and get it out of my sight" coursed through my mind.

I woke up to "yesterday" knowing that if I didn't go for a walk first thing in the morning, it was highly unlikely it would happen at all. It didn't happen.

I walked through yesterday physically, mentally and emotionally drained. It was the hardest "daycare day" I've had in a while. I don't know if it was my exhaustion level that did me in or if it was the kids. I think it was mine. I went out and bought a confused concoction of groceries last night (a little bit healthy and a little bit junk-laden), picked up a filet-o-fish meal with an iced coffee (so I could stay awake long enough to watch the Dancing With the Stars finale of course!) and sickened myself on part of a can of Pringles afterwards. My stomach woke me up in the middle of the night telling me "That was a VERY bad idea!"

I woke up this morning feeling defeated but I realized that I am only three days into this week-long challenge so it isn't too late to jump back on the exercise bike and try again.

The idea of pushing myself out of my comfort zone was so much easier when I was driving towards my destination last weekend. Having already pushed myself out the door and onto a relatively uncharted highway, I was feeling invincible. The closer I got to home on my return trip, the more fearful and closed down I began to feel.

I woke up the next morning wanting to hide in my little cocoon for a while.

I was giving three very attainable challenges. I feel like I'm losing the battle. If yesterday was any indication of how awful the transition from the "old me" into the "potential newer me" is going to go, I'm not too motivated to continue.

I need to break out of some old patterns and habits and step onto a new and improved "highway" to get where I most need to go. It may be like the unmarked highway I couldn't find at the onset of last weekend. It IS there. I just have to seek it out and start travelling.