Homeostasis

My new-found favorite word is "homeostasis". As defined by Google AI: Homeostasis is the process by which living organisms maintain a stable internal environment despite external changes.

This process of maintaining a stable internal environment, in my case my home/home-life, describes my need for a calm, quiet, orderly home and constant need for grounding by being home.

I remember the conscious awareness of the feeling of calm, safety and order when it was finally restored when I left my marriage a third and final time. Our home enviromnent was stable despite the chaos that ensued after ending my marriage. 

I have never forgotten the contrast between the before and after of my marriage. Any time there has been a threat to the feeling of serenity within the walls I call home, I have been able to make the changes required to return to that stability.

Various relationships and work environments have evolved due to my deep seated need (knowledge) that something had to change to bring me back to where I needed to be.

People have commented on my ability to adapt, reset, restart and basically trust my intuition. My true north is my need for this feeling of stability. My homeostasis has guided and contines to guide me in the direction I need to go.

I believe we all have this deep inner "knowing". Taking one step towards that knowing can feel impossible. Trusting it will all work out in the end may seem impossible.

I'm very fortunate to have had the privilege to make some giant leaps of faith. It has felt like jumping without a parachute at times. But I always knew I had some safety net to catch me if I ended up in a free-fall. I simply knew I had to do something to bring my life back into balance.

Every time I made a big change, I had a contingency plan of some sort. I knew Mom had my back in a worst-case-scenario. I was shaken after she died. Knowing I had to have my own back (which I had all along) was a little unnerving. 

Life is so big and scary. It is full of unknowns. It can change in a New York Minute. The need to maintain a stable internal environment despite external changes is vital. 

May you find and keep returning to your own personal homeostasis.

Regaining Equilibrium

Jumping back into life-at-home wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. Offering to work the afternoon of my first day home threw me off my groove a little but it jump-started me in a way that was necessary.

Now that I have 2-1/2 workdays under my belt (one to go until the weekend), I'm feeling a little more human. Then again, is that because I went and booked a restorative weekend away?

What?? That's crazy. After all the "holidaying" I did last week, why did I go and do this? 

A myriad of reasons but the best of all the reasons is because I found an above-ground AirBnB two blocks from Mom's previous home. Home. The place I always returned to regain my equilibrium.

I'm going "home" again. A quiet weekend with family/friends and no commitments. No appointments, no errands, no cats and in a rooftop suite with LOTS of windows.

They say you can't go home again but I'm going anyway. Everything has changed. I've changed. Relationships have evolved. But "home", back in my old neighborhood, is the closest I can get to the feeling I had when I visited Mom.

I've been missing her a little bit lately. I want to go home.

Home

I've been away for a week. I never quite gained the equilibrium I feel by simply being "home" while I was away. I'm back. I'm relieved.

There is nothing quite like waking up in your own bed, to the sound of robins singing their good morning songs. Everything has a place and resides quite nicely in its spot at home. Home. Oh, I've misssed you so.

The desire to drive home mid-holiday and unpack the mounting accumulations that were amassing in the car was great. It would have been silly to do so. Waste a tank of gas and the better part of a day driving to and fro, unpacking and most likely tending to the lawn while I was here. No, it was better to stay put, veg out in the backyard with the cats and do my best impression of relaxing.

Yes, I spent the week in my Original Home, presently rented to and occupied by my daughter and her spouse. And the cats. 

It isn't my home. I spent my time in my own little suite downstairs that has everything I need (except a bathroom with a shower). It took a few days to settle into my space and find a way to make it work for me. The first thing I missed was my upstairs writing spot by a window. Writing my morning pages was painful.

I spent years in that basement "suite" and loved every moment of it. It wasn't like I was confined to the basement during my stay. I had (too many) errands to run, people to see and the only thing that dictated my day was the cat's feeding/medication times. Times that work for me. To be home by 6:30 - 7:00 p.m. was a gift. It fit right into my love of quiet evenings at home. But there was something missing. Windows.

I have windows, windows and more windows in my little home. As long as I'm not trying to block out the heat of the sun, my morning ritual is to open up the blinds/curtains immediately upon my waking. Daylight. Gazing outside. Watching and listening to the birds, the sky, the trees ... ahhh.

Yes, I spent time outside. With the cats. They are senior cats with little desire to scale the fence and escape the spacious back yard. But every now and again, one will make a break for it. So time spent outside was mostly relaxing but ever present of where the cats were. 

I could have and should have puttered in the back yard while the cats explored and sniffed out the outdoors. I devoted one day to yard work, worked up a sweat, a good covering of dirt & grime and had little desire to repeat the process. So I simply sat out there and felt just a tad angsty. I seemed to need to know the time, so had my phone with me. **Note to self - take your watch with you when you go on a holiday so you aren't so bound to that danged phone!!**

I accomplished everything I set out to do while I was away. I even managed to squeeze in a manicure and pedicure. I visited friends and family. I enjoyed every moment of the one-on-one socialization. But I was off. I wasn't home.

The return home yesterday was welcome. Unfortunately I had offered to work in the afternoon so the joyous occasion wasn't celebrated properly. I played the game "how much can I do before I go to work?" instead. I managed to put almost everything in its spot except the groceries that didn't need refrigeration before I ran outside and mowed the lawn, then washed the bugs off the car.

It was a race to the finish and I made it to work by 1:00 but my head wasn't in the work-game and I seemed to forget anything I thought I knew for a while.

I finally reaped the benefits of my efforts when I came home from work. Home. Home at last.

Be it ever so humble, there's no place quite like it.

Livin' My Dream

My morning has been completely derailed by looking for the answer to one small question. How long did I enjoy my downstairs bedroom in my previous home? 

I knew the answer was within this blog (the answer is: November 8, 2015 until shortly after the renovation project was complete: March, 2019).

Look what I found while I was doing my research. I documented my dream on July 26, 2013: 

Friday, July 26, 2013

I had a vision of how I wanted last summer to go...

I was working for the school at the time, so there was little chance of being called to work over the summer. In a perfect world (a world where I didn't have to worry about paying the bills), I would have two months of summer holidays. I had an adult child at home that was willing to take care of the house over the summer and I could do anything or go anywhere I wanted. In a perfect world...

I dreamt of finding a quiet retreat. I would pack up my little laptop computer, my Book Research and all the paraphernalia that would be required to get us through the summer. I would pack up My Youngest and they would spend a summer outside, away from X-box live, the Internet and the television set. They would hate me for a while but after all was said and done we would look back on the summer as the-best-we-had-ever-had.

To perpetuate my dream, I found out that one of my dad's brothers had vacated their country home ... which just happened to be the last home that my dad's parents lived in together. It is a two story home and I would set up a desk and computer beside an outward facing window (insert picture of John Boy Walton here) and I would write.

I would vacation in a world that was close to my dad's family. The geography, the atmosphere, the essence, the solitude and the time would provide me with everything I needed to tackle the job that I had set before me. It was going to be wonderful.

I'm still waiting for those two months of summer holidays, but the quiet retreat, the two story home with a desk by an outward facing window, a world close to my roots ... is my reality.

If you dream it, it will come.

I'm living in my field of dreams.

A Guest Room I Don't Want to Share

They say you should sleep in your guest room to ensure it is comfortable and your guests have what they need to enjoy their stay. Well? I've gone a step beyond that.

Even before "my room" was my bedroom, I commented it was the perfect guest room. It has an en-suite bathroom, queen sized bed and the room is cozy and a comfortable size. A guest could get up any time they wished and have everything they need to extend their time alone before needing to be social. Plus, they wouldn't have to go down the not-to-code stairs if they needed the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Let the record show I already knew my room was the best guest bedroom.

Then I moved into my room and the guest bedroom became a pet project of mine. I knew a daybed would be ideal for that room because the air register is by the wall, under the bed. And I found the daybed of my dreams:

Then the writing desk of course. I cannot say enough about my writing desk by the window but I will try.

I was searching for just the right kind of cabinet which would mostly serve the purpose of holding stationary, writing and office supplies but could double as a dresser if required. Plus, I wanted another smaller cabinet for the closet. Due to the fact this cozy little room is carpeted, I was looking for furniture on wheels. 

Closet cabinet

Then came the pièce de ré·sis·tance. The final touch.

After a great deal of thought, research and test runs, I decided a TV for this cozy little spot would be my little treat. A place to watch TV at night, when my sensitive neck cannot relax on my comfy-looking-couch in the living room. 

While the living room windows were under construction, I moved the TV up into this cozy little room and I loved, loved, loved ending my days in this most-comfortable-spot steps away from my bedroom. A little TV watching and I'm literally 12 steps from my bed. Twelve steps on the same level. Not 13 steps up, then 10 steps to the right. Twelve steps.

 

I brought home my new TV yesterday afternoon and couldn't wait to set it up. It is the perfect size, perfect fit and perfect-for-me ROKU TV with access to more channels than I'll ever need:

A small fridge and microwave and this room would have everything I need.

I have created a guest room so cozy, comfortable and ideal that I don't want to share it. I'm just glad I already proclaimed my bedroom as the ideal guest room. So I guess that makes everyone happy.

There's No Place Like Home

This little house I live in feels more like home with each passing day. 

I am beyond fortunate that my son has carved out time to tend to my spring wish list. It sounded "simple" - replace the living room and bedroom windows and construct a shed. Easy peasy. Right?

Not when you have a mom who keeps adding to the list and a son who tweaks things to a level of perfection I thoroughly appreciate before he calls the job done. Nor when throughout the course of our last meal together, a couple handfuls of future wishes slipped out during conversation.

Whoops.

My favorite room in the house is near completion. I need to clear out the excess, with a few little tweaks here and there. It's so close.

I started dreaming my little dream as last winter was starting to settle in. I had a vision that centered around Mom's picture of pussy willows and my desire to have a writing desk by the window. Bit by bit, this little dream of mine is coming true.

I knew this room was working some special kind of magic within me but I didn't  realize how much. Yesterday morning, I didn't want to sacrifice my writing-by-the-window time after I set my morning routine off kilter by an hour. I tried to skip over the process and fast forward to the next item on my morning agenda but it didn't work.

This little room brings me such serenity and a peaceful sense of joyfulness. It's my favorite room in my home, filled with so many other spaces which speak to me. 

“If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with… There's no place like home.”

~ Wizard of Oz

Colliding Worlds

All my nicely compartmentalized little worlds collided a few days ago. I'm rolling just fine with the resulting aftermath. Having a solid home-base to ground me makes all the difference in the world.

I must find a way to wind up my bookkeeping job in a manner which appeases my desire to keep things out of "clouds" as much as it consoles my preference to find a way to do what I can from home. What needs to be done will be done and when it's done, my commitment to my bookkeeping job will be 100% complete. I'm keeping my eyes on the prize. It will be done.

While making a brief pit stop at my other home away from home, I noticed the furnace fan racing. After a few checks, balances and inquiries, I turned off the breaker to the furnace and called the phone number left behind by a company who had serviced the furnace in the past. An appointment was arranged for the next morning and I left it in my daughter's capable hands. 

Yesterday, as I was dealing with my shortened morning hours, due to the fact I was working at the job where I leave the house an hour earlier than usual, all these dynamics were coming at me as I was contending to the obligation of showing up for work. Meanwhile, my home was looking a little like a construction zone as the living room window project was in its final stages.

An early morning email suggested an option to hand deliver this bookkeeping file after work. My instinct was to just say "yes" to a very inconvenient meeting. I would have had to pick up a flash drive as I walked home from work, travel for three hours of and miss the possibility of touching base with my son as the window project was drawing to a close. 

Wait a moment. I didn't have to decide in that moment and completely upend my day. I decided to have a bath and let things sink in. "I have been trying to find a way to make this work as I prepare to run out the door to go to work and I just don't think tonight will work for me", was my final answer. 

It's a long weekend and no one needs to be in a panic about this transfer of information immediately. Least of all? Me. 

Then came the furnace/air conditioner situation. The diagnosis? A new air conditioner unit. Thankfully a split second decision didn't have to be made. We'll sit on that for a moment and see what options are available.

Pause. Just pause. 

Due to the fact I was wise enough to simply take a breath before leaping a decision that would have ruined my day, I came home to find my son almost ready to paint the new window-wall.

We chatted easily while I watched him paint (terrible of me, I know) and he made the comment the house would be ready for my sister's inspection visit this weekend. When he found out I was going to be on my own, he offered (or did I ask?) to move the couch and carpet back to where it was before this all started. I rearranged the remaining furnishings last night, puttered a little bit this morning and here is the end result:

All that's left is to wash the windows, hang the new blinds and re-side the front of the house. The inside renos are complete. 

When the outside world is impacting your peace of mind, it's comforting to have a soft place to land. A place that grounds you.

When I felt all my worlds colliding, all was well within my world when I settled in at the end of the day. There's no place like home.

Living Small

I wouldn't want to live in a house any bigger than the one I already inhabit. It is a smaller sized house, made larger by enclosing what used to be the porch and turning it into my present day living room. 

The living room has become a construction zone during the installation of new windows so I'm living in what used to be the living room/kitchen combination. If this was a permanent situation, I'd make some adjustments but even with my current furniture, I can imagine how it may have been before.

Before, there wouldn't have been a kitchen island. Remove that, replace it with a small kitchen table and that frees up a lot of space. There would have been no need for the microwave cupboard in the "before", so remove that and there would be ample room. Even for my present day couch. The patio doors wouldn't have existed. That would open up even more wall space. The temporary plastic barrier would have been a wall with windows and a door. Outside that door would have been a porch. 

I can see it more clearly, now that I'm living in the original footprint of the house. 

As much as I adore this little home, I do wish it had a main floor bedroom. Since the living room is presently out of commission, I can envision and wonder just how "small" I could live. Could the living room be converted to a bedroom? Could I live this small all the time?

Thoughts to ponder ...

Wishes are Coming True

My hopes and dreams list is being attended to very nicely. Wishes are coming true:

Complete!

Unfortunately the shed package was not an ideal building solution. Frustrations and challenges galore. My son persevered, despite it all. And it is done.

The next item on my wish list? A new bedroom window:

Perfect!

Some finishing touches left to tend but it's well on its way. It is bigger than the previous window and it has a screen (I broke the screen on the previous window) so I will be able to open my window to let the cool evening air in. Wonderful!!

The best part of this reno-so-far, is I had to sleep in my favorite-room-in-the-house last night:

I adore this cozy little room.

It felt like coming home again.

Good things are happening here!!

Dare I hope for more? Time will tell ...

Going With the Flow

One more day to savor this April long weekend. My only plan for the day is to go with the flow. Toss out one invitation and happily go wherever that may take me.

Aaahh!! Relief. Pure and utter joy. All the hard-things-to-do are in my in my rear view mirror. Until the replacement set of things-to-do take up the space vacated. Out with the old, in with the new.

Each and every time I cleaned house, I literally made space for the next turn of events. 

My first home began with a clean slate. I bought a brand new townhouse, moved in with my one-year-old and everything we needed to make a home.

The next move meant abandoning that very home and everything in it, with my two children. Another fresh, new slate in a brand new location. 

My next home became a home where many transitions happened under that roof. My oldest moved out, my youngest was born, a daycare was created, a daycare was dismantled, which made room for Mom's belongings, soon I had enough excess to furnish an entire second home, when the excess moved out, my former employers files and filing cabinets moved in and three years after that, all those files moved back out and so did I.

I moved into that little home, once filled with the excess from my long time home and those furnishings have bit-by-bit been replaced with furnishings of my own choosing. A little bit of "Mom" sprinkled here, there and everywhere accessorized with a little touch of "me".

This little house has become home. It is a lovely little spot in the universe. I think I'll stay.

But for today? I am simply going with the flow and breathing in every moment of contentment I am feeling. This too, shall pass. So I will savor the moment while it is within my grasp.

Home Sweet Home

My Forever Home

I feel like one of those homeowners on HGTV, when I say "I bought my forever home yesterday".

My final home is on the walk-out level of an eternal resting spot in a Columbarium. The upfront cost covers everything. The plaque attached to the "front door" stating the resident's name and vital statistics (life span) is part of the purchase price. No condo or maintenance fees. It is in turn-key condition. 

The decision was as easy as asking my sister if she minded me being her neighbor for eternity. She responded, "Sounds wonderful!" and that was all it took.

My eternal resting spot has been a niggling thought in my mind for most of my adult life. I grew up in a city that didn't feel like home to me. Then I moved to a city that was close to home but not quite there. After I collected Mom and Dad's family memories, I knew "home" was where my story began. 

I was born here, I have come home again and I shall rest here.  

And that's all I have to say about that.

When People Know Your Name

It's like going to "Cheers", the bar where everyone knows your name. Well, not quite. It's not a bar - it's work. It's not everyone - it's a few. But still, it feels warm and comfortable. A little of the feeling of coming home again.

The conversation started simple, "Where are you from?" Instead of going into the details of moving from the farm to the big city and moving a few more times to get here, I simply responded, "Well? My story began close to [hometown]". That hometown is a 15 minute drive from here so that is a good enough response.

I didn't realize I was talking to someone who was on my old school bus route. "What's your name?" I gave them my surname. "Which one?" Dad had six brothers so the surname provided enough, but not all of the information. I told them Dad's name, they looked at me and said, "You must be Colleen".

 Wow. Blow me over with a feather. 

I'm one of the youngest in our family of four. We moved from the farm to a new province when I was nine years old. My older siblings grew up, went to school, married local and remain connected with the community. People know who they are. I'm one of the forgotten ones. Not yesterday.

That feeling of "coming home again" is renewed on a pretty regular basis here. Coming home again has never felt so good.

Grounded

I have spent the weekend at my home of 36 years. And it has been good. The weekend has been full of everything I didn't know I needed. And more. So much more.

It pays to know yourself well enough to ask for what you need. When I moved to my little oasis home-away-from-home and kept my original home to rent to my daughter and her spouse, part of the deal was for me to have "a room of my own" here. A room that was not a spare room for company. A room that was just mine. 

I assumed I may be on call to house and cat sit when they went away and I was not wrong. Thanks to the ailments of our Senior Cats, they are on a schedule to maintain medication and feeding times. I am actually needed here, in a way I am not necessary in my new home. It isn't foreign to me. Cats - aloof, but appreciative of their human counterparts. We get along well that way.

My bedroom suite here is everything I need and want. Not only a bed, with a closet to hold enough of my items for me to stay a night if weather or car conditions warranted it, but also a couch, desk, small table and chairs, plus a TV. A bathroom right outside my door. A fridge in the laundry room just a few more steps. A mini-suite to call my own. Home away from home.

I have been bouncing in and out and around the house all weekend. I had a list of errands longer than I may have wished for, but they were necessary. I'm grateful I didn't have to squeeze everything into a quick day trip into the city. Everything has been crossed off the list, except for that which I added as an afterthought.

I have had the time, energy and desire to see people while I've been here. People I haven't seen for the better part of a year or more. People who, at one time, were an integral part of my life and were part of the fabric of my life here. People I worked for and worked with.

The income tax burden has been weighing heavy on my shoulders. Taxes and obligations for people I know through my former employer. 

My previous employer passed away only a few months after I quit my bookkeeping job. I have been carrying a small amount of guilt and angst over the fact that I jumped ship on them. I didn't leave them high and dry. Everything was left the way I would appreciate if I was the person who would step into the role. I gave a year's notice. Nothing was sudden or unexpected. I did all I could do. But we didn't have a formal "good-bye" at the end and I didn't quite know what to do with that.

When one doesn't know all the facts, one makes up stories in their mind. Even in my most gracious stories, I was the villain. I abandoned them. Then she died.

I reached out in small ways. I did and said everything I knew to be right and comforting. I did all I could do. I had to let it go.

When a very good friend of my previous employer asked if I would do her taxes, I had to stop and think long and hard about it. In the end, due to the loyalty, friendship and past with my previous employer, I said yes. It was the right thing to do. It was hard to say yes. But it was right. Then the weight on my shoulders got a little heavier.

The moment I met up with this person, I knew I had said yes for all the right reasons. I told her, "I don't miss the job but I miss the people. I worked with very good people." And our visit was off and running.

We had a most excellent visit and I felt my previous employer nod with approval. "You did good, girl. You did good."

I then contacted my employer's son. In my bookkeeping role, I worked very closely with him, as it was his business' books I was tending. As his mom's health deteriorated, we had so very many conversations that were not about business. We became very good friends.

Long story short, none of the stories I made up in my head were true. All was well. He simply didn't want to call to ask me for help (pertaining to the bookkeeping end of things). He didn't call, out of respect for my decision to move on.

The night prior to this, I awoke in the middle of the night, with visions of T2's, T1's and GST returns dancing through my head. The person I still do books for, is someone I met through my former employer. As I struggled with the job of winding up the year and preparing for the tax season, I quietly whispered my employer's name and said I needed her help.

I walked away from it all after this desperate plea. When I walked back, it was better. Not a lot. But a little. Bit by bit, I started finding solutions to my problems. I balanced this to that and to the other thing. All the numbers made sense. I had one final question and had an idea. I slept on it, called the taxation department at 5:50 a.m. (7:50 a.m., where their offices are located) and a recorded message told me I could expect a 1-1/2 hour wait. "I have time", I thought to myself and proceeded to count down the next 90 minutes of my life ...

Then, I knew. I was right about this. I didn't need to confirm it. I could move on. And I did.

I wound up everything taxation-related with this business the night before I arrived at my little weekend oasis. I had planned to meet up with the business owner and present her with my final numbers, to get her okay before proceeding. Then I woke up in the middle of that night and thought, since I had all returns complete and final numbers ready to present, just print them all up to PDF files and email them. This was better than presenting her with a bunch of paperwork. She could print off the files, review them in her own time and once okay'd by her, all would be ready to go. 

I told my previous employer's friend this little story the next morning. I NEVER, ever wake up in the middle of the night and work at the books. Never. But my previous employer did this regularly. I wonder ... did I wake up and finish up this job by myself? Or was the energy of my previous employer spurring me into action? I said, "I think I had a visit from E last night..." Her friend nodded knowingly and completely agreed with me.

I was one day into my three day weekend and I had visited everyone from my previous work life that mattered. And it was good. It only got better once I started calling my cousins.

I have stepped back into my comfort zone here in my previous home. I'm glad my previous self knew what to ask for, to make life better for my future self. A grounding spot here within the home of my daughter and her spouse. 

I am home. I am grounded. I am healing a part of my past self that had been hurting a little. And it is good.

Maybe I don't need that grounding sheet, after all ...

Write at Night

Write at Night - this was yesterday morning's epiphany. This would become my new habit. Write at night in order to extend my existence past 6:30 pm. Long story short? I didn't work.

It still feels like night, as I write this. Sunrise is 40 minutes away, so "I still have time" (I hear Mr. Incredible's voice in my head as I write this).

I've restarted the habit of writing three, hand written 8-1/2" X 11" pages every morning from my room with a view within my home. I'll write more about that another day. That little room is becoming a dream come true for me. Truly an oasis within this little home of mine ...

The habit of writing my unedited thoughts and just going with the flow of wherever the pen takes me has been tedious at times but for the most part, it has been clearing out the clutter of my thoughts. Does everyone spend their day with their Inner Critic nattering endlessly in the background as life-as-you-live it? Or is it just me?

I have named my Inner Critic "Gertrude". And man!? Gertrude is quite the piece of work a lot of days. She has a snide tone to her voice. Nasal to be exact. With attitude. Nag. Nag. Nag. I write her out of my thoughts as I write my Morning Pages. It helps.

The vast majority of my morning thoughts are to-do-tasks, counting down to the weekend, naming the day and my feelings about it. Blah, blah, blah.

This morning, as I (once again) counted down the days until the weekend, I thought of how this weekend countdown ritual reminded me of my youth and how I may never outgrow it. It put a different spin on my tired old tale of working for the weekend.

I listed off a long list of little things that remind me of my youth and how I nurture my inner child. Thankfully I have written this list in longhand, so I won't bother repeating myself here. But I ended my list with my home-of-choice these days.

I moved back to my Home Province thirty seven years ago. I moved back to my Town of Birth eight months ago. This morning, I tried to envision moving back to my home of thirty six years and I couldn't see it.

I moved off the farm as a child fifty five years ago. Every step I've taken since that time has led me to this exact moment in time. I've said it before and I hope to keep saying it - I am exactly where I am meant to be.

I'm content. Life feels very different than it felt a year ago. There have been a few growing pains but for the most part it has been growth in a very positive way. I don't embrace change so I've made it harder on myself than it had to be. One forward step at a time, I've made my way to where I am at this very moment.

I'm home.

I Am Here

This is it. I am here. I am present, quiet and savoring the moment (and my second cup of coffee).

I have spent the past half hour re-reading my posts from the past five months. I'm glad I documented some of my journey to get from there to here. It feels so very good to be sitting in this moment. Here. Today. 

Life is shifting into a new normal. It is early days so there is much tweaking to be done. Over the course of time, slipping into survival mode triggered a lot of coping mechanisms which became habits. It has been two weeks. I will not chastise myself too much yet. But coming home, finding food, collapsing onto the couch and staying awake only long enough to chew, swallow, brush my teeth and crawl into my pj's cannot become my new life.

The pressures of full-time daycaring shifted into a time of finding myself in the presence of seniors in declining health. Snuggling up on the couch in my pajamas, with chips and pop at my side became my reward for getting through the day. I often said (unfortunately it is still true today), "If I'm not chewing, talking or moving I am asleep". 

Getting through the week has felt familiarly draining. New jobs. Being "on" ALL day, every day. Adjusting to dressing for work, leaving the house and adhering to a full time work schedule has taken a new kind of energy.

I've done it. I'm doing it. But I continue to look forward to my weekends in a manner that reminds me of a teenager who lives for Friday. 

Here I am. Savoring my Saturday morning coffee. Inhaling the morning. Mapping out a plan for the next two days. Aaaah.

We are ten days into August and if I hadn't splurged on two getaway weekends and repairing a washing machine, I could happily say "I haven't spent a penny!!". 

My car hasn't moved for thirteen days. I haven't needed to fortify my groceries for thirteen days. I have been tempted to run to the city to splurge on storage solutions but tempered that thought with a wait-and-see approach for now.

The urge to spend money is next to nil. The desire to immerse myself into nesting is all encompassing. I have little energy to expend outside this little piece of property. The desire for connection is strong.

It will come. One day at a time. 

March 23rd

August 10th

Little touches here and there are turning this generic little cabin into a home.

The Difference a Month Can Make

The months seem to be slipping through my fingers all of a sudden. Three months from now, I will be settling into my new life away from the one I know well. Three months.

I thrive on deadlines. This is one big reason I do believe it is in my best interest to continue to work for the foreseeable future. 

I have two casual job positions to move toward. Two opportunities to push myself out of my comfort zone at home and into the real world of people, interaction, responsibility and challenge.

I foresee quiet in my future. Time to nourish my thoughts, sit in them, write a little, feel a lot and walk through them. It is time to defrost the numbing habits I have developed and go forward from there.

I anticipate meeting new people and developing relationships. I am going "home" again. Family. Roots. Connection. I am starting to feel the tingling one feels when their frozen fingertips are coming back to life. 

I can feel the flutter of anticipation as I meet (and beat!) work deadlines. I read an article on de-cluttering and visions of filling boxes danced through my head. 

"What brings you joy?", Marie Kondo asks. Make room for the future, I tell myself.

The last time I gave this house a thorough purging was when my daycare was winding down to a close. I released the excess and made room for whatever life had in store. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was making room for Mom's belongings after she died. I have not purged since.

I look at Mom's collection of books. Some books are most definitely "Mom" and speak to me as well. Other books will never be touched. Am I ready to let those go?

I think of my ballroom dancing days and the accessories I amassed during that time. I would love to dance again but my days of excess glitter and shine? I may keep a little but I'm ready to let go of a lot.

I picture the small little home of my future and my desire to move much less than I presently own. Garage sales are in my future. The real bonus of a garage sale is actually cleaning the garage. It has been five years since the garage was cleaned.

One step at a time. Meeting deadlines has pushed me out of a slump I had been marinating in for far too long. Moving toward the future I see for myself will push me where I need to be. Then what?

It is all in my hands from there. 

Creating the life I saw for myself when we drove off the farm when I was nine years old. That nine-year-old little girl sobbing in the back seat of the car, making a solemn vow "I will grow up, become a teacher and move back". 

I grew up. I ran a daycare in lieu of teaching. I am finally moving back home. Not exactly where I grew up, but literally to where I was born.

Full circle.

Oh, the difference one month can make when we do nothing at all but let life unfold in its own way, in its own time:

March 10th

April 14th

Just imagine the potential of what could unfold when you take the reins and steer your life toward the direction you hope for.

The possibilities are endless. The reality may be entirely different. Believe "you are exactly where you are meant to be", try not to "sweat the small stuff", do what is within your control and have faith it will all work out in the end ...

April 18th

Reality may surprise you.

Balm For the Soul

I took a step away from life as I know it and ran towards the home that brings me serenity. I am here - at my Little Oasis on the Prairie:

I arrived Friday afternoon, bearing ready-made-meals and no agenda whatsoever. All I knew is I didn't have the brain power to think of bringing "ingredients" to turn into homemade meals. I didn't want to be a burden. I didn't want meal planning to take up one corner of my thoughts.

It has been beyond lovely.

A walk-and-talk with my sister which morphed into a lunch and an afternoon visit. Writing a letter to my other sister and walking to the mailbox was the only item on my mental to-do-list.

Once I arrived back home from the mailbox, I started to putter outside. Three hours later, I came inside and popped the store-prepared-pizza into the oven and called it a day. 

It was marvelous.

Today's agenda? More of the same. Simply following the path of least resistance. Amazing how that path leads to productivity when I take a step away from my city home where I live with my work.

Best idea I've had in at least a month. 

May today be the day you follow your own path of least resistance. You deserve it.

Quiet Desperation

I sit here and clutch onto my hot cup of coffee as I desperately hold onto the last moments I am free to call my own today.

I wrote that paragraph and erased the paragraphs to follow. I checked job postings. I took a few typing tests. I peeked my head out into the world beyond the world I have created here at home and feel like a turtle.

I've tucked my head and limbs back into the safety of what I know.

I've worked on my own for 3-1/2 years now. I ran my daycare for 14 years. In a faraway land of long ago, I remember telling myself I was the best boss I ever had. 

I have high expectations of myself. When I stop meeting those expectations, I want to be done. 

I'm there.

But I don't know where to go next.

The saddest part of all, is I do believe I know where I would go if I had no one else to consider ...

I see it.

I just have to get there.

Home.

P.S. I must make a trip to update this photo - a lot has changed since this was taken.

Here We Go Again

I think I found a piece of myself this past weekend.

I found it while savoring some solitude in my little oasis away from home

I hope I can hold onto whatever this is once I step back into my regularly scheduled life.

I don't want to go home.

I love this little piece of heaven right here on earth.

I'll be back!

I know I have the same easy feeling within my home,

but it is a relief to spend time away from my work that lives with me 

... and all the cat hair.

Oh, the cat hair.

May you find a small piece of heaven somewhere within your day-to-day world.

Stay at Home Recommendations

Storm warning alerts bombarded my phone this morning. A winter storm watch has given me permission to stay home this weekend. Ahhh.

I love, love, love my little home-away-from-home. I tend to forget just how much I enjoy being there until I open the door upon my arrival. Then I fall in love with this little oasis away from home all over again. But I have been longing to just stay put lately.

Staying home is so simple. No preparation required. Cool winter weather, ice, snow and wind just make me want to hunker down and hibernate. 

I have felt a warm and welcome invitation to winter this year. Shortened days equate to less expectations. Cool weather makes my cozy winter socks feel like a warm hug. Winter weather conditions dictate stay-at-home recommendations. It is like COVID restrictions all over again. And I'm in. I'm ALL in!

I want to reserve my social and out-of-home energy for a mini-holiday (who else in the world calls a three day getaway a holiday?) coming soon. It takes extra energy to be "on" on a weekend. This energy is easily recharged when I'm around those who I am hoping to see while away. It will be exactly what I don't know I need. I can feel it already.

But this weekend? I am grateful for the recommendation to just stay home.