Searching

I'm falling off the rails. Living an Intentional Life is exhausting.

Such simple guidelines I set out for myself. Walk. Stretch. Write. Drink water. Eat intentionally. Live intentionally. Be still and notice the little things.

Well? Being still without eating to keep me awake equals sleep.

It takes approximately three to four nights to watch a one hour television show (which I have taped, which equates to the need to stay awake 45 minutes). Fifteen minutes in front of the TV without food, conversation or movement is a sleeping pill for me.

That is okay. Because I want to get up very early to do all the things that feel important at the moment:

• Walk (45 minutes)
• Puzzles/breakfast smoothie/listen to a podcast (an hour)
• Take care of whatever real-life-needs need to be met. This varies from cleaning cat litter and making a lunch; to responding to incoming emails; to vacuuming/mowing the lawn/hair-washing-day; and an untold number of diversions (anywhere from 15 minutes to 2 hours)
• Writing (depends on the day)
• Open the door of my home office and tame the beast within 

I wake up at 5:00 a.m. and four hours vanish into thin air just like that [insert snapping fingers here].

I'm spinning my wheels and going no where but back to waking up at 5 a.m. the next morning. 

As I walked this morning, I felt full of inspiration, life, recollections of walking these roads over the course of decades gone by. Memories of people I once knew when I worked; houses I once delivered newspapers &/or flyers to; the walks we had during my daycare days all came rushing to the surface. Then I came home.

Poof! Just like that [insert snapping fingers again]. Gone. In a puff of imaginary smoke.

I am ... so many things. I will not go into all the things I "am" at the moment because my thoughts are taking me to a place I don't want to dwell on. 

I have some important deadlines to meet. Then? I want to coast. Simply take time to wash windows during the week, putter in the yard, walk someplace for fun (and perhaps an indulgent refreshment as a reward). I want to phone a friend and visit without a time limit. I want to spend a weekday at my City Home without opening the door of my home office and just live a simple, quiet day.

I want a holiday from the day-to-day life as I know it. Nothing extravagant. I want to dabble in the feeling of what life in retirement could feel like. I want to dream.

These are the books I have borrowed from the library. I'm searching. I feel ready to shake up my world just a little bit. Or simply take a holiday.

I appreciate how fortunate I am to wake up to life-as-I-know-and-expect-it-to-be day after day.

I wake up feeling rested, healthy, ready to tackle the day with ease.

But there is a small voice within that is speaking to me.

There is much going on underneath the surface of this life of mine.

My little world is intertwined with those who don't wake up to all I take for granted.

What can I do?

Is there anything I can do?

I feel the need to build up my reserves so I'm ready.

Ready for what? 

I don't know.

I just know things do not stay the same and I thrive on same-ness.

In the meantime, I will just keep taking one forward step at a time.

Step by step, we get where we need to go.

One step at a time.

Crash

It wasn't a collision. It was more like a slow slide on the ice into a soft snow embankment. No, I'm not speaking of a literal crash. Just a mental one.

I was flying high Friday morning. I felt so good, I stopped to write. Putting myself out into the world and outlining my small triumphs out loud exhausted me. It was as if a small dose of adrenaline was administered as I wrote. Then came the fall.

It was simply a slippery slope of having the ability to coast. I coasted through Friday and landed smack dab into Saturday with ease. I woke up an hour later than usual Saturday morning. I forgave myself but in the back of my mind, I mourned my lost hour.

"It's okay. It's Saturday. You worked for this. Coast. Just coast ..."

Coasting for me involves sitting still without eating or talking. Movement, chatting and a seemingly endless supply of chips is what keeps me awake. The moment I stopped all of the above, I was asleep.

"It's okay. If you are tired, sleep. It is all right."

So I did. I slept the afternoon away, woke up and had a frozen piece of cheesecake dessert which took the better part of three hours to chisel away at. Then I went to bed. 

"Just to get warm, comfortable and settle in to watch another old episode of 'This is Us'. I'll just nestle in for the night."

Then I woke up to Sunday. 

Where did the weekend go? I slept away a day. As I sit here and watch the blowing snow outside (43 km/h wind, with gusts up to 56 km/h), I just want to nestle in and hibernate for the day. I scroll the weather forecast and the headline "Whiteouts, dangerous travel possible ...", I wistfully wonder how I would feel if I was snowed in, at my favorite little oasis on the prairie.

Oh, to dream a little dream. It is a small thing but it feels so right. I love this soft place to land at the end of my week.

I wish you a soft slide into your most favorite place, activity or mental holiday. Happy Coasting!

Weary

There is a weariness I feel that has nothing to do with physical exhaustion. I feel completely and totally spent.

A good night's sleep doesn't cure me. Nor does a regularly scheduled weekend. But thankfully I do get enough of both of these to allow me to keep putting one foot in front of the other and making it to through the days and the weeks.

The antidote to my weariness is finding lightness of heart wherever the opportunity presents itself.

• Spotting a rabbit
• Spending time with family
• Losing myself in a mindless piece of fiction
• Laughter 
• Quiet ... just plain quiet
• Turning off all the connections to the world

I know a good long walk would cure much of what ails me. Walking conditions are not ideal right now but this too shall pass. Spending time appreciating nature and its ever changing landscape feels like oxygen for my soul.

Being outside, even if it is as simple as sitting in my own back yard calms me. Sitting in a sunbeam in the late stages of winter and the early phases of spring is one of my most favorite things.

As I came upon the realization of all that is within my reach but feels so unattainable at times, I couldn't help but think of my days of daycaring. 

• I took my little daycare family outside at every opportunity
• We walked everywhere and played "I Spy" as we made our way through the residential streets
• We discovered an "Enchanted Forest" where the kids could run through the paths and just be kids
• We marveled at the signs of spring, spotting the first robin, watching an industrious ant carry something ten times its weight, collecting lady bugs and setting them free
• Savoring the moments sitting in a sunbeam in the winter and early spring
• We collected rocks, leaves and any mystical treasures we found along the way
• Finding wonder by looking at life through the eyes of a child was one of the best gifts I received throughout my years of caring for children
• Watching over and listening to contented children at play felt quite literally like heaven right here on earth

I was spent at the end of my daycare days but it was a more well rounded kind of exhaustion. The physical output added with a generous dose of outdoors was offset with "quiet time". Despite the chaos at times, there was a sense of balance to those days.

My present day life is far too sedentary. The need to be "on" all day, every day exhausts me. I know I am exactly where I am meant to be right now and life as I know it could change in a heartbeat. But for the first time in a very long time, I feel I may be the one who cracks under the pressure.

Julia Cameron prescribes daily writing to purge one's early morning thoughts + solitary walks + a date with yourself, for yourself. Julia has recommended exactly what I didn't know I needed and I have been resisting her advise. 

Today is the day. I will make an Artist's Date for myself, by myself. I will fill my soul so my soul has more to give to tomorrow.

I will get up tomorrow morning and write three pages of long hand. I will purge any negativity before the day begins and subconsciously come up with an action plan. Walking? I will find a way. I will.

What can you do to initiate a plan to rejuvenate your weary soul? Little things. It is all in the little things. Try to come up with one small sustainable action you can institute into your routine. 

This is easier said than done. I know. Just try ... and if it doesn't happen today, try again another day. Just don't give up.

The Good Old Days

How is it possible to lose the afterglow of a holiday so soon?

I have been back to work four days. I had a weekend after three of those days. Yet I woke up this morning feeling as if I was never away.

Exhaustion over-ruled any thoughts I may have had about how I would spend this past weekend. How can a person feel so worn out after working three days?

I woke up this morning and visions of my daycare days wafted through my mind. They were long days. They were challenging days. But we had quiet time. And I had some control over how I could manage my days.

Walks. Time at the park. Simply playing outside. Watching nature. Savoring the moments of children playing contentedly.

Even within the most challenging days, I was home. I was grounded. I could call a friend. Someone could drop by. I was home.

Another perk was the fact that I did not rely on my car. Winter is coming and if this car and I are going to weather the seasons ahead, I need to fix the stone chip in the windshield and look into getting better tires.

I liked working from home. I liked it a lot. I miss those good old days.

So Glad to Be Home

Today is "my day". The calendar is empty. No outbound emails, calls or reservations need to be made. No appointments (inbound or outbound). I believe the world around me is at peace and no one needs a piece of me.

It was a very committed weekend. It was all good and I enjoyed everything I did, everyone I spent time with and even an unexpected visit with an aunt and uncle I wouldn't have had if I had stayed home.

It was good.

But I just want to wrap myself up into a little cocoon and hang out on the couch today. I have seven hours to do with as I please.

I am socially spent. I just need a little alone time. Seven hours ought to do it.

What do you need today? I hope you can grab a big enough piece of whatever it  is that sustains you (yes, chocolate counts!).

It feels like a "third cup of coffee" kind of day. Happy Monday!

... four more days to go ...

The Goldilocks Zone

The party is over and now is time to deal with the excess.

Step one of dealing with the excess food was pretty easy. I issued supper invitations which were clearly labelled "left-overs" so no one came expecting more than was offered. That part was actually quite fun.

Excess exhaustion? That was pretty easy to deal with as well. I parked myself on the lawn swing with a few magazines and a Smirnoff Ice. In no time at all, I was 100% relaxed. The next thing I knew, I was waking up. Part Two was falling into a deep, deep slumber the moment my head hit the pillow last night. It was a sleep-through-a-ringing-phone kind of tired.

Excessive cat hair which amassed while house cleaning got put to the bottom of the list was dealt with before I sat down last night. "You don't want to deal with this in the morning" was my sage advise to myself. I was right.

Excessive spending spiralled out of control when an unexpected car repair got tossed into the mix. My head is spinning with the dollars that have been amassing on my credit card(s). Houston, I think we have a problem.

Excessive thinking? I think my brain finally turned off last night. It felt good to have a thoughtless slumber.

Excessive after-hours-chores? That is a little something I need to incorporate into my daily living. Within reason. I have accomplished a lot around here since our house painters finished their work two weeks ago. There is no reason I can't keep the momentum going. None.

Too much of any one thing is not good. Moderate amounts of all of the above is fine. Groceries, spending, housecleaning, work, worry and leisure. It is all about finding the balance where everything feels in alignment. The Goldilocks Zone. 

The Gift of Emptiness

It is only when we feel truly empty, that there is room to become full again.

I woke up this morning feeling completely hollow, empty and spent. Physically, mentally, emotionally and in every sense I could imagine. I looked outside and was grateful a rainy morning gave me the gift of filling myself up.

I felt I had no functional brain cells when I couldn't tackle my morning word and number puzzles. I quit. I walked away from the computer and unconsciously went about my morning looking for something to fill the void.

I took the easy way. I turned on the TV. Home renovation shows were not what I needed to fuel my thoughts. Thankfully, I had taped a variety of Oprah's "Master Class" shows. I found what I was looking for.

I can go looking for inspiration and not be open enough to absorb what I come across. This morning? I wasn't looking for anything but a reason to collapse on the couch and lose myself. Instead, I found myself capable of filling up on the morsels of the wisdom of others.

I felt a little of what I felt when I saw Oprah in person. The ah-ha moments. The words that resonated. A renewed perspective.

I was revived from the inside out. CPR for the soul.

I found myself feeling grateful for the emptiness which made room for new input. Suddenly a scene from Short Circuit flashes through my mind, when Johnny 5 (the robot) is craving input:



Sometimes, we just need to fill ourselves up with what we need. Grab your oxygen mask. Be grateful for the emptiness which allows you to fill up to your maximum capability.

Spent

Visions of staining, washing windows and lawn mowing filled my thoughts during my restless sleep last night. So much to do. So little weekend. I got up at 5:30 in the hopes of squeezing everything into one day.

I gave myself the gift of the morning to do what I wanted to do, breathe easy and take what I needed from the morning. It was lovely. Three hours of morning time is my daily norm. I have been lacking normalcy this past week. Three hours felt lovely.

After the clock struck the end of my three hour hiatus it was only 8:30. The hardware store which stocks the miracle deck painting brush opened at 8:30. I was there.

Deck staining was to be done in the shade. Our deck isn't shaded until late afternoon so I started the day by washing windows. Scraping paint off said windows and window casings took a little added time and made me ponder the idea that professional painters should offer to wash windows after their work is done.

Window washing has been long overdue around here. It feels wonderful to have squeaky clean windows. Ahhh!

Then came the lawn. I have shirked lawn mowing duties around here for two weeks so I felt it was my turn to step up to the lawn mower. And I did.

Pulling weeds, sweeping up paint chips and scraping off plaster/crack-filler off the driveway took the last of the energy I had. Rain is in the forecast within the next 24 hour period so I was relieved to stroke "stain the deck" off today's roster of events.

I don't accomplish what I used to in a day. I feel slow and sluggish. I look at our five year old cat who moves slowly and sluggishly and I see "me". This same cat can't jump 6 ft fences in a single bound any more. He can't even jump onto the 3-1/2 ft deck railing without engaging his front claws and using his back legs to climb up. He uses the top ladder rung when jumping onto the decking of the kid's play centre we have in the back yard.

I was telling my son that our cat reminds me of myself. "Maybe he has arthritis," I added wistfully. My son just chuckled and said, "No, he's gained a lot of weight." Oh. Me too.

I share an affinity with our Junior Cat in residence. We've both slowed down prematurely. We've both packed on extra poundage. We both love leisurely cat days.

Who's to argue with that. I accomplished enough for one day. The evening is mine, to do with as I please. I do believe it pleases me to laze around with the cats. My 5 a.m. mornings are catching up with me.

The Best Part of Waking Up ...

There is a weariness within me that sleep doesn't begin to touch a lot of days. But waking up to this view is the best part of my morning:

Here I Go Again - Part II (an unintended sequel)

I love the questions my aunt asks me. She often asks me the same question multiple times so I have the chance to mull over and revise my answers.

My aunt is convinced I should have been a teacher. While that profession has its merits, I'm not entirely sure it would have been a good fit for me. I know who I was, how I managed my daycare family and how often I fell short of my own expectations as a daycare provider. I know how I felt when I worked within the offices of the school system. I don't regret not becoming a teacher. Teachers have my respect and admiration for the work they do but I don't believe I could have become the teacher I would have wanted to be.

If I had chosen a career path to follow directly out of high school, I have a strong feeling I would have become an accountant. I'm a number person and derive great satisfaction from the perfection one can attain in the numbers field. That very quality is almost bringing me to my knees at the moment. I am so very grateful I didn't become an accountant.

I have always aimed for 100% whenever possible. This quality made me the perfect candidate for the career path I fell into. I worked in the banking industry for 20 years. It was a good run. It was a good mix of human interaction and numbers. I gained a lot of satisfaction from the job I did, simply by treating people the way I would want to be treated and "balancing to zero" at the end of the day.

Good things often seem to morph into not-quite-as-good as time goes on. As long as the focus was on excellent customer service, attention to detail, the ability to work on my own and as part of the whole, I was in my element. It was when sales targets, marketing goals, referrals and always striving to bring in more new money superseded what I liked about the job, when my desire to look elsewhere for a pay cheque took over.

It was in and around this time when my focus became "family" and I opened my daycare.

My daycare days were subsidized by working at the bank on Saturdays, followed by taking on a bookkeeping job I could squeeze into my work week. There were several tweeks and adjustments to this mixture of income sources but there always seemed to be a mixture of numbers plus human interaction which turned out to be a very good balance of what I did best. Add a little writing into that formula and life was pretty good.

Numbers plus people plus creativity plus family and friends defines "contentment" for me. The balance of this mixture has ebbed and flowed over the course of time. I'm struggling with that very balance right now.

Ten hour daycare days were long and hard. 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. were my hours. But I was at home, I started early and my work day was done by supper time. It was hard but it was manageable. I could have a life after supper if I so chose.

I still have ten hour days. I leave the house at 9:15 and (if I don't have any pit stops to make on my way home) I am home by 7:15. Supper has gone the way of the dinosaurs around here. I come home and I am spent. Trying to hold up my end of the conversation after a day away from home is akin to drunk driving.

I am spent. I feel mentally impaired. I'm good for nothing at the end of my day.

My balance is out of whack. I cannot find my footing in my numbers job. I am mentally fatigued by the conversations I have throughout my day. Attempting to have a social life is a chore. I am grateful for a family who knows me well and has adapted to life as I am living it.

Our home is my oasis, my source of comfort and strength. I know very little right now but I do know I want to find a way to make our home work for me again. I look at our freshly renovated main floor, recognize my weaknesses in the area of tolerance and I know re-opening my daycare is not an option. I do know I want to earn a living from home.

I've been here before.

I was some version of "here" when I decided to take a leave of absence from a stable and secure job with benefits to open my daycare.

I felt this way before I decided to go back to school for a year after 11 years of daycaring, so I could pursue a job in the bookkeeping field.

When rerouting my career didn't work (after several failed attempts at jobs that robbed me of my confidence and belief that I was capable of working outside my home), I was another crucial fork in the road. I reopened my daycare.

I was at a breaking point before I closed my daycare for the second time. What I really wanted to do was move out to Mom's, leave all my jobs behind me and take on something familiar and part time.

I'm back to where I was. Retirement has never sounded so good. I'm tired. I'm broken. I'm empty.

Life is generous enough to keep out doling lessons, long after my desire to learn them is gone. As I wrote in yesterday's post, here I go again.

Mondays

I have the luxury of having Mondays off from one of my jobs which allows me to start my work week at 4:00 p.m. on Monday verses 9:30 a.m. Let me tell you, that bonus 6.5 hours is a gift like no other.

Mondays off are not set in stone. My boss is very flexible when I need to take a day off or shift a work day so I do my best to work when she needs me. As a rule, we can make Monday off a reality.

I am just easing into my final hour of my weekend and revelling in a Monday I have most thoroughly enjoyed.

My best weekends are when I park my car Friday night and it doesn't move until I go to work on Monday. I can stay home and waste time like nobody's business. Quiet time + a little puttering + cooking a meal (maybe two) + an ample dose of Netflix + unexpected company and/or phone calls = Perfection

Life has felt somewhat hectic this past short while. My son's play instigated a flurry of company, late hours, extra-curricular conversation and activity which has wiped my energy levels dry. My work week is highly interactive and I recharge my batteries by going home and being silent. I have been talking far too much lately.

My boss and I discussed our upcoming work week on my last day of work last week. Our plan was for me to work today. The very idea of going into work this morning brought me to my knees. So last night, I called and asked if I could work Tuesday through Thursday instead. She agreed.

I felt like the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders. I revelled in the last of my conscious hours last night and enjoyed sleeping in this morning, with both cats at my side. I had a leisurely morning and then I did the hardest of things. I left the house.

I have accomplished more in the last four hours, than I have all weekend. A few ready-to-eat meals have been prepared, the lawn is mowed (all I had to do was buy gas for the lawnmower and my son took care of the rest), a broken picture frame has been replaced, the tail end of one hand lotion has been emptied into another, my sister's amended tax form is done and ready to be sent off ... none of these tasks were big. But they just seemed to pile up on me and felt hard.

Energy begets energy. Doing one thing spurs on the energy to do the next. And so on and so forth. I know I feel better when I am on top of the chore list within my little world. Today? I feel like I'm back on top of things again.

Mondays off are one of my most favorite things. I think I'm ready for the week now. 

My Repetitive Life is Full of Lessons I Already Know

In this cyclical, repetitive life I lead I seem to find my own answers hidden within the content of this blog space. I reread these words I wrote five years ago and they speak to me where I am at right now. Need I say more?

TUESDAY, MARCH 11, 2014

Famous Last Words

"My calendar is pretty empty. I know I must get milk sometime within the next five days or so but that is about the extent of my social calendar. Oh, and I must donate blood the week after that. Busy month for me!"

Those are the words that I typed when I replied to my cousin's email at 6:52 on Saturday evening. Less than 48 hours later, I seem to have my week booked up. How in the world did this happen?

For one thing, it is simply because I am saying "YES" to life. Saying yes is better than the year I started saying no. Saying no took away the pleasure-factor immensely. But I believe that "NO" was where I needed to be to have the energy to push myself those very hard days.

Saying "YES" invigorates and depletes at the same time. I know that I have a high-need-for-solitude so I need to offset my yeses with equal time just-for-me.

Saying "NO" does exactly the same thing to me a lot of the time. The weekends where I cocoon myself from the world and do little more than nurture myself fill me up but they also deplete me of that spark that I feel when I am in the thick of living-a-full-and-balanced-life.

Therein lies the key. Balance. Perhaps that is why I have fallen into the 'party planner' role lately.

As The Planner, I get to pick and choose what I want to do and when I want to do it. I could not have started-what-I-started-last-week a year ago, two years ago or any-number-of-years-ago because I simply didn't have anything in me to give. I was empty and trying very hard to fill myself up.

When you are running on empty it is hard to run a marathon. When you look at the long road ahead of you and you cannot even see the end goal it is hard to focus on endurance. It is simply all about getting to the next filling station and hotel.

The important thing is to keep taking those forward steps. Even when they don't seem to be making a difference. They are. Even the time spent filling up and resting are giving you what you need to make it to the next step along the way. If you could live your life backwards you would know that each and every pit stop was essential.

Small, forward steps, rest stops, keeping hydrated and enjoying the journey are what it's all about.

It takes time to prepare and train for the marathons of life. We can't be running at top speed all of the time. It's hard on the body, mind and soul. Focus on endurance. There may be times when you need to sprint but you simply cannot keep up that pace all of the time.

Yes verses no. Run verses walk. Rest verses replenish. Balance.

I love my little life-as-I-know-it. The life where running out for milk and donating blood are the driving force of a week. It gives me time to say "YES! ... I will take in a dance class" and "YES! I am home and we will have a good visit while you are here" and "YES! I can do that for you" and "YES! Let's plan an adventure".

My calendar is still pretty empty. I like it that way. It gives me room to juggle priorities and put what needs to be nourished at the top of the pile.

But my empty calendar sure feels full...

Running on Empty

I have a small (10 ml) tube of lip balm that I have been squeezing dry for several months now. I thought the tube was almost empty when I started playing this game of rolling it up from the bottom and squeezing what I could out of the dregs of this tube.

I already have a plan to cut open the tube after the tube runs dry. But this tube just keeps giving and giving. Then giving some more.

Yesterday morning, I was almost certain would be the day. The day prior was almost a "no go". Yet, when I started the ritual of rolling up the tube from the bottom, lip balm started squirting out the opening from an air pocket which had been created. 

This little tube just keeps giving and giving. It has come to symbolize what "running on empty" means to me.

Even when we look depleted, feel depleted, have served our purpose and have squeezed every last bit of life out of whatever we have to give ... there is often just a little bit more within us than we realize.

I see this trait within people who have earned the privilege to simply put their feet up and enjoy life. Yet they keep on going, working, giving and striving some more. 

Running on empty looks different on everyone. I hope I remember to think of this little tube (and the people who have modelled this way of living) every time I feel depleted and empty. 

Don't give up. You have more within you than you are giving yourself credit for ...

Dragging My Feet

I am suddenly going through socks at an alarming rate. The first influx of finding at least one hole in at least one sock at the end of each and every day didn't surprise me. My mid-winter replacements of my winter stock of socks never quite lasts until spring. The timing was right.

I keep extra socks on hand, the way I stock my groceries. One "in use" product, with more "back up" products in stock. Each and every spring, I hope my winter socks will last until the bare foot season, so when fall arrives I am rewarded with the intoxicating feeling of wearing brand new socks.

With all of my socks wearing out in warp speed, I knew there was no hope of making them last. I brought out my new fall stock of socks and carried on.

Then my fall stock of socks started sprouting holes. Not only on the heels, but the toes. Not only one at a time, but both at once. What was wrong with these defective socks? Should I try to return them? This was crazy. Socks should last more than a few weeks ...

Then I had an out of body experience. I remembered asking my son if he found himself unconsciously sliding across the new laminate (or was it just me?).

I have been skating across our new flooring ever since its been laid. Then I cleaned it with a cleanser that left a residue which interfered with the easy gliding I had grown accustomed to. The floor had gained resistance to "the slide" so I washed it time and again with only a slightly noticeable difference. I was wondering if I would have to resort to sprinkling a light layer of sawdust around the floor to recreate the surface I had grown accustomed to gliding across.

I brought this dilemma to the attention of my siblings while they were here. They agreed the fault must be in the quality of the socks. Then my sister noticed herself gliding her feet over the surface of the floor even while seated. So the blame started to shift to the laminate. Aha! My son has been wearing out his socks too! I believed we were onto something.

Fast forward to the last morning of our Sibling Sleepover. My sisters were sitting in the living room while I grabbed my coffee before I joined them. They told me I do tend to drag my feet (the unspoken words were "So that must be why you are wearing out your new socks").

The mystery was solved. I went out and restocked my back up supply of socks and life moves on.

Life is like that. At least mine is.

I drag my feet at getting hard things done. I drag my feet and procrastinate on a regular basis. I drag my feet literally and figuratively on many levels of my life. Then I wonder why I feel burnt out, worn out and bedraggled.

When I pick up feet up off the floor and get things done, I have more energy, more enthusiasm and more life.

I'm not only wearing out my socks, I am wearing myself out.

It is much more beneficial to pick up one's feet, move in a forward direction and save the wear and tear on your body, mind and soul (and soles of my socks!).

Having recognized this, one would think it would be best to simply relearn to walk correctly. Me? I'm just grateful the barefoot season will soon be upon us.

I love the sensation of "gliding through life". I much prefer to phrase it that way. It sure beats "dragging my feet". Which is it? Does it really matter? If one can have fun with their flooring, shouldn't they take pleasure in the small things in life?

And does this really matter?!?

Back to Life as I Know It

It never fails. It matters not how much I think I want to leave, coming home is ALWAYS the best part of going away.

The minute I had my head set on heading home, the count down began. How soon could I get there? How much could I accomplish once I got home? How much time would I have to myself at the end of the day? 

The closer I got to home, the calmer I felt. 

I didn't leave home to find answers. I left to hear myself think. The five hour drive each way provided me all the time I needed to find my own answers.

Answers. Does anyone really want someone to TELL them what to do? Or do most people simply need to hear their words outside their own head to hear what you need to hear when you bounce your thoughts off another human being?

I certainly wasn't looking for anyone to solve the mysteries of my life. Mostly I needed to space myself away from life as I know it. 

As good as it felt to get away, it feels better to be back. 

Waiting for the Weekend

Oh, how I wish I could simply stay home today.

Now that our great Renovation Project is all but behind us, all I want to do is curl up with a good book and breathe in the serenity of our home.

All the should have, could have, would have's are plaguing me this morning. I should have and could have done so much more with the weekend in my rear view mirror. But I didn't.

I did little things. I did more than I have done in the past. I also relaxed. And I slept.

On one hand, I feel energized and renewed. On the other hand, I'm tired. Just tired.

I wish I could simply snuggle up on a couch today. I'm not really in the mood to face the oncoming week.

Only four more days to go ... and I have no where I have to be. I can't wait.

A Day of Rest

I worked hard yesterday. It was a day where one thing led to the next, the next and the next. All. Day. Long.

I found two of the things I thought were gone forever. I KNEW I wouldn't throw these items away but I was afraid they may have ended up in a giveaway box during my time of great culling. It felt like Christmas!! I was so delighted to find these lost-to-me items.

I must admit I am slightly concerned about reshuffling the contents of our entire main floor. How will I ever find anything again unless I am strategic and methodical? Thus, I put all office supplies into one multi-drawer storage container. Like things were all amassed together so they are all in one spot.

I hope I have en-grained these new spots in my head. Now that all like things are together, if I've lost one, I've lost them all.

I have a give away pile, a pile to go to the dump and one pile to donate. These piles are not as big as they should be. I didn't get into a sorting and culling mindset. I didn't have the mental energy to touch each item and decide whether said item brought me joy or not. I'll do that as these belongings make their way back upstairs again.

The state our home is in at the moment reminds me of when we cleaned out Mom's home. After our first weekend, everything looked the same. But the cupboards, closets, drawers and all storage areas were cleaned out. It still felt like Mom's home. This still feels like our home.

Life hasn't changed. Yet.

It's coming ... the unbecoming is a time and energy consuming task. The becoming will be the fun part. Too bad the "becoming" is so costly. I suppose this is good. It means there will be an end date. End dates are a good thing.

Tapped Out

I'm starting to fade. We are eighteen days into January and my new and improved plan to lead an intentional life. I'm tuckering out.

Is it the weather? It is -32º outside. It's COLD out there. It's nice and cozy inside. I want to stay home.

Is it my working hours? Being out of the house for ten+ hours is hard. So hard. I love being at home. Renovated or not. Nestled up inside this warm, cozy cocoon is exactly where I want to be. The long days are taking a toll.

Is it time? I've been revved up and trying to do this "living an intentional life" thing right for eighteen days, minus two Sundays where my ambition and drive withered up and disappeared, thus returning me to my cocoon state for one much needed day of rest after six hard days of life. I'm simply in need of an extra "Sunday" this week.

Is it the upcoming renovation project? As daunting as I know it will be, I think the idea of renovating is fuelling me. This is good.

Is it the outpouring of cash? The dollar signs are flashing through my mind as I try to forecast my financial future. I know it will be okay. But it is hard.

Is it the up and coming commitments I have on the horizon? I don't think so. I'm actually very much looking forward to my upcoming weekend plans. I do love the fact that my ability to look forward to and anticipate extra curricular activities has returned. To a point.

I simply don't have the energy, motivation or desire for "more". I am not looking for anything beyond what already exists here within my cozy little world. I'm not looking for anything beyond what I already have. I am content. So content.

I thrive on quiet and alone time. Solitude fortifies and restores me. That ... and light. It is 8:30 a.m., I just cracked the blinds open a little and the sky is starting to show signs of lightening.

The days are a little longer. The weather is a little colder. It is January. I am simply craving a "snow day".

I don't know why I stopped to write here today other than the fact I'm trying to restore the habit of writing into my days. That, and taking care of my feet. Yes, I tend to my cuticles and buff my calloused feet every time I bath. Adding ONE good habit at a time.

I have added writing and foot-care into my daily regimen. That is enough.

The end.

Breaking All the Rules

I set out (what I thought were) a few easy guidelines to follow in order to change my life. It sounded easy. "Rest when you are tired" and "Eat when you are hungry". I tacked on "Do one hard thing every day" because I was feeling brave.

Well!

Rest when you are tired. I was tired when I was at work. My eyes wanted to slam shut and stay there for a short spell. It was SO hard to stay awake, so we walked instead. That worked (and walking is better than eating).

After overruling my tiredness, I came home and didn't feel "tired". I felt overwhelmed by the day. I was so overwhelmed that I forgot to pick up my son from University. I didn't realize the error of my ways until I pulled into the driveway and noticed the living room curtains were exactly how I left them.

Oh no!! I had completely forgotten about my son. Thankfully he is 20 years old, had a cell phone and when I called to let him know him I was on my way, he just laughed. Whew.

Back to my story...

As I was saying, by the time I returned home (the second time) I wasn't tired. I was just tired of the day. So I reached for food. I wasn't hungry. I was empty. I filled the void with food. As I did this, I thought "There goes 'Rule #1' "; followed by the thought "Who cares!" and "Why didn't I pick up chips on the way home??"

To be very honest, my obsession with the knowledge that there were NO chips in the house is very likely the reason I forgot to pick up my son. My prevailing thought after work was "Should I pick up some chips??" I was so proud of myself for making the right choice and coming straight home, the fact that my son waiting for me didn't even cross my mind.

Overruling exhaustion when it hits is a bad habit I noticed my young daycare crowd had when it came to trying to avoid sleeping at nap time. Some of these little people were tired and cranky AND fought sleep. When they slept, they were so much more content, happy and easy to be around.

When I fight the waves of exhaustion, I "manage" but my tolerance to let the small stuff slide slips. I push myself through the day. I stay awake when my body is craving sleep. I come home and think I deserve a reward for getting through the day.

Thus, I break rule #1 and rule #2 that I made for myself. I eat to stay awake.

Admitting I have a problem isn't solving the issue at hand. I need to do the hard work myself. Last night I went to bed when I was tired (after the bowl of popcorn was gone). I woke up feeling rested. The weight of the world isn't sitting on my shoulders (though I think it did take up residence in my neck because it was a bit of a mess this morning).

During the week, doing "one hard thing each day" = "leaving the house". On some level I am succeeding. I think back to one year ago today and I know I have come a long way.

A year ago, my thoughts were completely consumed with Mom. I was low. I felt lost. I felt like I was dragging around the weight of the world with each and every step. Leaving the house felt physical painful. It was soooo hard.

I've come a long way. But I have a long way to go.

One Hard Thing Leads to Another

Yesterday had the power to be like every other day which has proceeded it. I could have so very easily have frittered away another afternoon. In fact, as I sit here fighting the waves of exhaustion this morning I am wondering why I felt the need to add "hard things" into my life when things were going so well before. But ...

And there IS a "but" ...

I did all the things a procrastinator does to avoid the job at hand. I did all that. And I still had three uncommitted hours at my disposal. So I started.

I didn't get knee deep in the culling process of ridding myself of the excess. I knew I wouldn't be able to get back to the project of decluttering, disposing and organizing any time this week. So I simply began putting "like things together" so I can deal with them at a later date.

I started collecting all of our linens and bedding together in one closet. I have amassed the collection of income tax papers together in another. I put all my letters to Mom in ONE spot. The onerous task of collecting every book in the house and putting it in one spot was too much to tackle. What I have attempted to do instead, is to begin to create a temporary home for the books so a proper bookcase can be built to store that which remains after all is said and done.

I have emptied one large container in order to fill it up with "everything office related" at a later date. I emptied a dresser. I have collected empty boxes and containers to help sort and organize as I move forward through this process.

I am starting to see the end goal. The REASON I became overwhelmed with the task of going through everything of Mom's that found its way into our home is because I want to create a quiet oasis to read, reflect, sit and wonder within our home. But how do you begin, when that oasis is full to overflowing with "stuff". Important stuff. Mom's stuff ...

As I sorted, organized and physically touched everything that came from Mom's home yesterday, I felt peaceful. The state of feeling overwhelmed was superseded by the sparks of joy as I felt the history of each belonging. I scanned over some of the cards I wrote. I was grateful I said what I said, when I said it. They are worth saving ...

I am emptying "Mom's room" so I can move forward. I have known I wanted a Murphy Bed in that room for years on end. I love having the ability to extend invitations which say "I have three spare bedrooms. Come. Stay. Feel at home here." Yet, I truly want to create a cozy little reading spot within our home. No TV. No cell phones or electronics. Just books. Good light. Perhaps a place to write.

If I build it ...