Farewell

Jet joined our little family in June, 2015. 

"My youngest opened the door and this little black kitty immediately started loving her. Then me. He snuggled. He purred a quiet but steady little purr. And he drooled. There was no going back. "Jet" had found the family he wanted to go home with."

Jet's story is interwoven into the context of this blog in a manner that encompasses who he was to us in every way. His antics, his personality, his quirks, his neediness and intense curiosity.

When I made the move to my Little Oasis here just over a year ago, my daughter took over the care of our home and cat dependents. Two senior cats who came with a diverse and complex set of unique-to-them health challenges. 

To be loved by my daughter is to be loved without condition. She has taken these cats to the vet time, time and time again. Then some more. She did and has done everything in her power to make our cats comfortable. What medicine didn't heal, my daughter's love and devotion soothed.

Jet had a "mystery intestinal irritation" which resulted in litter box issues that preceded my move out and away from cat-responsibilities. We had investigated and tried everything. No stone was left unturned. In the end steroids bought Jet as much time as he could endure comfortably. 

Two weeks ago, the time to let him go had come.

Loss is not easy. Letting go is hard. Being held, comforted, in the presence of loved ones, consoling voices and tones in the end is the best one can hope for. 

As my daughter described Jet's last days and moments, I couldn't imagine a more loving farewell to our beloved Jet.

Jet was loved to the end and beyond. He was a good cat.

You Know it's Going to Be a Tough Weekend When ...

This was the hardest weekend I've endured for a very, very long time. I knew it was hard when I found myself counting down the days until I got to go to work on Monday.

Yes, I made it. Yes, it was hard. Would I do it again? Maybe.

Attending the Homecoming by myself was the hardest thing I've done in decades. Made tougher when my car started rattling as soon as I decelerated from highway speeds to turn into town. I mentioned my dilemma to a few people (probably twenty) and one person's response was, "Yes, a lot of people start acting up when they come to our hometown".

It was hard but it was good. I saw a lot of people. Two of the three Mom gathered together for the life changing homecoming in 2006 were there. One of those people was one of the first people I saw; I latched onto the second person's wife during the last piece of the day. I missed the third person terribly.

I survived the day, the car got me home (rattling again when I decelerated). The car situation hovered over me like the dark clouds that decided to rain upon us during my little family gathering of twenty five the next day.

My cousin's wife, to whom I am extremely grateful, arranged, invited, suggested everything pertaining to the afternoon. All I had to do was open my doors (and a little prep and clean up). Two of the first to arrive were my mechanically inclined cousins. I asked them a huge favor as soon as they arrived. "Before you leave today, would you mind driving my car to see if I need to get it fixed in town or if I can make it to the city?" Making it to the city was critical because I'm holidaying/cat-sitting in my previous home and it was imperative I make it to the city in two days. 

Anyway ... back to the gathering ...

It couldn't have went much better (considering the impending rain clouds which kept all 25 of us under the very small roof for quite a while). The garage was company-ready and eventually the crowd divided in two (with a few enjoying the peace of simply sitting on the back step). Small groups conversed together - I like when that happens because that is my favorite part of being "one" in a crowd. Is the small conversations that are more genuine and real than the small talk that happens when there is one, big circle.

I'm glad I hosted the event. My family was beyond grateful but that wasn't the reason. I am hosting a "gathering of nine" in August and I was a small bit apprehensive about the larger gathering. Now, "nine" sounds like a very good one-digit number. I'm ready.

And yes, I must work today. The easiest part of the entire long weekend. Going to a place I don't mind going alone, know my way around and ... it's my last day before a week long holiday. This is the first time (other than adding a day or two onto a weekend) I've taken holidays since 2018.

I'm ready.

P.S. My car is ready too. Other than loose lug nuts (and one missing one) on the front tires, my cousins couldn't hear the rattling I heard. I thought the rattling I heard was from the rear, but I'm taking my chances and driving anyway.

Displaced

Minutes before the end of my workday yesterday, three people walked into the office looking for information about the location of an evacuee centre in our community.

Two of the three had been evacuated from their home a week ago and the last update they heard, the wildfire was one kilometer away from their home. They were with someone they knew from our town but looking for alternative accommodations as the unknowns continue to mount.

One can only imagine what it feels like to flee your home, not knowing if it will be standing when you return. A devastating situation.

I wonder about the wildlife, hoping their natural instincts tell them what they need to know. 

As I walked home, I considered the idea of a situation which would place untold numbers of people looking for a "port in the storm". What if my community was called upon to open their homes temporarily?

I thought of my simple little life which includes a home, spare sleeping quarters, some back up supplies and thought of how quickly one would go through their supplies if there were five people to house.

At this moment, I am one of the lucky ones. Fortunate enough to consider how I could come to the aid of someone in need. 

Life can change in a New York Minute. What if I was one of those people wandering into a place of business looking for shelter in an unthinkable time?

My cousin, spouse and three young children lost everything in a wildfire five years ago. It could happen to anyone. And does.

I hear Smokey the Bear's voice saying, "Only you can prevent forest fires". Human-kind, we are our own worst enemies. To think of the origins of any one of these fires. I don't know the answer to how these raging fires began. I fear humans are not without blame.

Stay safe out there.

Charging System Malfunctions

They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I'm not dead yet but I am feeling a tad stronger than I was a handful of days ago.

My social battery does not hold a charge any more. It is akin to my computer battery which needs a continual charge. The moment it is unplugged it dies immediately. There is no residual power in the battery. It simply dies. It does not hold a charge, even with a consistent power source.

My angst over socializing outside of the comfort of home is usually tempered when I'm surrounded by good friends and family. Especially family. That was what was so disconcerting about the weekend past. I couldn't talk myself down. I was getting close. I thought I could do it. I was packed up and ready to go. But my body shut me down and made it physically impossible to leave the house. I couldn't have even worked. I was so relieved I didn't have to feel guilty about booking the day off work. I couldn't have worked. Whew.

I slept the entirety of the day and all of the night. I awoke with the strength to push myself out of the house and onto the road towards my family.

As I drove, I calmed a little but the voice inside my head was constant. Everyone else is part of a couple. It was a family weekend including all the in-laws. And me. It was a bridge too far. 

I had visions of them enjoying this time without a seventh wheel. I was actually relieved. I thought I gave them a gift of a day without concern about the extra baggage of an odd man out. I have never, ever felt like that man. But my angst was high and talking me into all kinds of stories. 

All anxiety fell out of my body the moment I walked in. It was worth every painful step it took to get there. Gone.

And so went the rest of the weekend. Embraced by the comfort, comradery, humor and presence of family, I was home. I was truly home.

My battery recharged throughout our family time. I hadn't even realized the gift I accidentally brought with me when I arrived in my own vehicle. I had the ability to drive my sisters home for one final inoculation of sisterhood all the way home. ALL the way.

We arrived home at 2:30 in the afternoon. The better part of a Sunday to gather what I needed to forge through another work week. Time for everything and nothing. Time to do a few things for my "future self" to make waking up in the morning easy.

And it worked. 

I slept five solid hours without stirring. I awoke to a computer in a deep sleep. I fall asleep watching something on the computer with settings set so it will not advance to the next episode. Normally I don't sleep long enough for the computer to completely shut down and I can wake it up by clicking the mouse. Not last night. I thought I would try to fall asleep without resorting to tuning something on, to tune out my thoughts. I stirred for a minute or two. But I fell back asleep and awoke two hours later.

Waking up to a dark, quiet room felt so incredibly peaceful. I had a long, vivid dream, full of deep meanings to keep my mind busy upon waking. Once again, as with most of my dreams, it was a relief to know it was only a dream. 

My sister gave me a grounding sheet as a parting gift. I came home, stripped the bed, washed the sheets, had a shower and wore my freshly washed pj's to bed. I had completely forgotten about the grounding sheet when I went to bed. Everything felt so fresh and crisp that I became one with my nest of supportive pillows and comfy, familiar bedding.

I woke up feeling completely grounded. It's a miracle. The sheet works! So does the magic of family and charging my weak social battery.

I have a tricky car battery and charging system that is worsened by the car sitting idle in the garage for weeks or a month at a time. It is strengthened by a good, long drive and weakened by quick trips. 

I definitely have a short in my charging systems around here. Something to work on ....

My trickle charger showing a 50% to 75% charge after a 4 hour drive

This morning. 

My car and I have a lot in common - the need for a trickle charger.

Spiralling

I'm in a thought spiral this morning, so I reverted to my old ways of managing the words spinning around in my head. I grabbed a pen and paper. 

Seeing the words on a piece of paper has a way of taming them. You can see you aren't thinking about a million different things - you are more likely to be thinking of a small number of things in a million different ways.

I started with the topic front and foremost in my mind, made bullet points about my thoughts, concerns, potential action plans and what was or wasn't within my control.

I came up with eight main focuses of concern. Five of these are ongoing. Three are new. Some are inter-connected (ie: our cat's chronic mucous-spewing sneezing is impacting my house-keeping abilities). Money is a common thread throughout most of my ongoing worries.

Note the white spots - I have discovered our cat's mucous bubbles up when sprayed with hydrogen peroxide. This is a section of the floor I washed up after supper last night. The knowledge that this is all over our floors, walls, doors and furniture is causing great angst. 

Work is taking up the number one spot of my anxieties, inter-connected with and followed closely by money. This is not a surprise. I have taken action and handed in my notice, which has compounded the troubles instead of lessening them.

I started a clean page titled "TODAY". I itemized that which must be done, will be done and can be done today. 

Breaking things down into manageable pieces. It is about all we can do. It is what we must do in order to take the next step forward.

I admit that "shower" is one of the items on today's to-do-list. These must-do items may be as small as that which, depending on the day, is a big thing. 

I endeavor to keep my regular list of must-do's pretty basic:

• Get out of bed
• Make the bed
• Wash my glasses
• Make my morning smoothie/coffee
• Wash my smoothie glass/coffee cup
• Clean cat litter/refresh cat water

That's it. I make it a rule to keep my bed made, the kitchen counter and sink empty and clean, tend to our cats and THEN do one hard thing at a time.

Work is hard. Extra-curricular housecleaning is hard. Running errands, leaving the house, going to appointments are all hard. Some phone calls are hard. 

Lately, when the going gets tough, the tough turns on Netflix. So you know what? I gave myself the gift of one more month of grocery delivery. For the small cost of $9.96 per month, I can let someone else shop, pack up and deliver my groceries for me. Winter has finally arrived and our temperatures have dipped to -28º this morning. I will forfeit something else in order to allow myself this indulgence.

What gift to you give yourself when the going gets tough? We all need a little something to pick us up at times. Give yourself a break today. You deserve it.

Firing on All Cylinders

I feel open and receptive to the messages the world has to offer at the moment. My "openness" ebbs and flows with the tidal waves of living and I am always grateful for the moments of clarity that seem to appear when I am able to be still, listen and absorb all at the same time. 

That is exactly where I am in this moment.

As I tuned into CBC television to await Charles' coronation, a podcast by Gavin Crawford called "Let's Not Be Kidding" was advertised. When googling Gavin's name, the first line of his bio states: "If laughter really was the best medicine, Gavin Crawford would have cured his mother of Alzheimer’s disease." (https://www.cbc.ca/listen/cbc-podcasts/1387-let-s-not-be-kidding-with-gavin-crawford

He had me at "hello". Thank you Gavin, for your first hand recollection of oh-so-relatable memories and situations, and also to your co-starring cast of those who are or have walked the path of caring for a loved one with any form of dementia. Adding a dose of humor to a disease that isn't the least bit funny helps make the situation more palatable. Hearing first hand, of those who have walked a mile in these shoes is truly a gift. 

Once I listened to Episode One, I was hooked. I listened to all seven episodes concurrently (and made a few salads while I listened - the most painless cooking I've done in a long time). Thank you, Gavin. Thank you!!

An email from the library, reminding me that my book is due in a few days propelled me straight toward Michelle Obama's book "The Light We Carry" this morning.

I put down Michelle's book last weekend to open Harry's book "Spare" and had forgotten the way Michelle's writing spoke to me. The moment I reopened the book this morning, I was hooked. She had me at "Good morning!". 

The only pitfall to reading Michelle's book is the tangents of thought I get carried away with. Any stories relating to her parents, the way her mom was raised and the way Michelle was mothered had me comparing and contrasting my own personal memories of my own siblings, along with Mom and her siblings. "Life back then didn’t revolve around kids. For the most part they were seen and not heard", Mom said. "It’s more like they were heard of and never seen" her sister added. Which triggered a long list of thoughts and perceptions as I compared Michelle's lens with Mom's ...

It didn't end there. As Michelle continued to write, she continued to ignite memories, thoughts and words that I'd like to sit still with one day. I grabbed a notepad, scribbled down my thoughts and filled two (small) pages. Wow! I may still have some inspiration and words within me after all. Thank you, Michelle. Thank you for helping me find my own light!

 Ping! Ping! Ping! My brain was on fire and I was having a hard time absorbing Michelle's words, so I got up and got some chili simmering in the slow cooker. Wow. Salads AND chili!! "If I cook it, WILL they come?" I wondered as I prepped a few salads to go and a few more to stay. I'm really on fire!!

I cannot wait to finish Michelle's book so I can focus on Harry again. I have an audiobook/library book combo so I'm listening to the first part of his book as I drive, while I fast forwarded to "Part 3" of his physical book. He has a lot to say and I don't want to miss a word. In fact, I'd really like to chat with him in person after the day he had yesterday, at his dad's coronation.

The clock is ticking the morning away and I still have a few things I'd like to get done before the clock strikes twelve. I feel like Cinderella but my clock is chiming at noon instead of midnight. And after all I've been learning about royalty, I'm sure not waiting for Prince Charming's arrival on the scene.

So much to do, so much to think, so much to write. I feel alive!

Thank you, thank you, thank you to those who fired me up and reignited some spark within me that has been starved for oxygen. Thank you!

Almost There

I feel like I have scaled a mountain this week. There was no time to stop and enjoy the view along the way. It was one forward step at a time. One hour at a time. One day at a time.

Deadlines were met. New responsibilities added. A side order of extra challenges tossed in for good measure. Fun times.

It is no fun to write or read about all of the above. The internal struggle is the story. My struggles are minor but they felt pretty overwhelming this week. 

I may have come "this close" to cracking. I am at the place where I have been before. One extra task on my to-do-list may be the straw that breaks my back. This feeling is familiar. Can I rewrite the ending or is the ending already written in the sand? 

I don't know. But literally hitting a cement wall last week felt like life was telling me something. "You've gone as far as you can go here, girl. You were lucky this time. It was only a little bit of paint. Stop before it's too late..."

The weekend has arrived and not a moment too soon. I feel the need to sit in a sun beam and stop thinking. 

A little dose of this would be good...

Setting the Bar Low

I am trying to trick myself into believing today is a work day so I can put one of those big jobs behind me within my bookkeeping world. Is it working? The jury is still out.

Goals this weekend:

• work a day
• prepare a meat and vegetable meal another day
• coast a day

I am/was planning on taking a day trip to meet a friend but the need to torque my newly changed tires has put a damper on my desire to leave the city. Backing into a cement wall and hitting two curbs yesterday (one requiring a new tire, the second time seems to have left my newly changed tire unscathed) has heightened my desire to just leave the car parked for the duration.

I'm feeling a little accident prone and I haven't quite regained trust in my car after a minor repair instigated a domino effect of issues in the week that followed. I just want to stay home. That is all.

This is the highlight reel of my weekend goals:

Gourmet pizza - ultra large in size. Just pop in the oven and voila! A four course meal with no fuss, no muss, no delivery fee, no tip, no need to leave the house.

At the tail end of my accident prone day, I also picked up two bags of chips. 

What else could I possibly need?

Set your bar low. 

Do what it takes to make your day go easy on you.

And .. 

when the going gets tough, the tough eat chips.

The end.

Let the Dominoes Fall Where They May

July 21/22 7:28 a.m.:

One week ago, I wrote the post "Come Walk With Me". I wrote about my decision to take the better of two options as I navigated my early morning. This morning I chose the alternate options.

I woke up early and was eager to jump into the day so I skipped my morning stretches. Bad news: the effects of stretching are immediate. I was much less limber as I moved about and got dressed. Good news: the effects of stretching are immediate. Tomorrow morning, when I DO decide to take the time to stretch, I'll be right back where I was yesterday.

I opted to skip my walk in lieu of jump-starting my podcast/puzzle time with my morning smoothie. No nature stories to divert my attention and get out of my head a little. Straight to the business of puzzling and listening to other people's words before I listened to my own. I missed that space to just "be". 

I have a list of household tasks to accomplish today. Windows, vacuuming, washing floors, de-cat-hairing, a side order of dusting and an errand to run. I have bookkeeping work to tend but hope I can accomplish my home-work tasks while still keeping on my top of work-from-home agenda.

House work. Work from home. It is truly no wonder why I love my little weekend oasis away from home where it feels like real life doesn't exist for a few days.

I wrote these words, walked away and tended to (almost) all of the above.

And it was good. The energy I spend procrastinating is so much better invested just DOING one thing I want to get done.

Once I start something, provided I am not distracted by something that jumps the line, the domino effect of one thing leading to the next, the next, another and yet another little task is how I manage to accomplish what-must-be-done.

I crossed a lot of hard things off my list that particular day. I had one distraction I was able to easily tend to (something that has the ability to completely derail my intentions), but I got back on track. 

It was so much easier to wake up the next morning knowing I had accomplished what I had set out to do. It was easier to WAKE up, not so easy to GET up. Those stretches I neglected before I got out of bed? When my achy body woke me up in the middle of the night, instead of reaching for pain relief in the form of a pill, I did my stretches without leaving the bed. It was all I needed to get back to sleep and live to wake up and stretch another day.

Ahhh! Sometimes those ahhh-some moments find their way into your day in the most unexpected ways. Accomplishing something you have been putting off? Ahhh-some! Finding relief through stretching verses a pain reliever? Ahhhhh. Waking up the next morning with vim and vigor to tend to the few items left on that list? Ahhh! Then tackling your day job with that same vitality and tending to one more of those tasks that have been put on the do-another-day list? Ahhh [said with a huge sigh of relief]!!

What small action can you do today to bring a little bit of that Ahhh-someness into the moment? It doesn't have to be a big thing. Sometimes simply getting out of bed and getting dressed is a feat unto itself. Other times? ONE small step can lead to another and you may amaze yourself. If not today, another day. Let ONE domino fall and see where it takes you.

Body Heal Thyself

The longer I live, the less I take this body for granted. The more often I hear of those whose body has started faltering and not working the way it used to, the more often I recognize and silently thank my body for simply doing what it has always done when it heals or recovers.

I once took an anatomy class and learned how each of our body organs has a purpose and if one organ is in jeopardy, the body automatically does what it can do to protect the major organs or take what it needs from other body functions to take care of what is in need. Hypothermia, burns, pregnancy all come to mind as I type those words. 

The more I learned about anatomy and how one organ failing could trigger a chain reaction that could either save a life or end it, I felt it was nothing short of a miracle when I awoke the next morning and everything worked as expected.

Growing older is something we all must adapt to one way or another. I find myself surrounded by people late in life (the result of finding myself later in life than I used to be) and I am accumulating a small wish list of what I hope for as the years unfold. Sometimes our state of mind can influence the state of aging but there is only so much we can control.

My sisters recall Dad commenting that with a heart attack (which he was genetically inclined to have), you go fast. Not like cancer where one could linger on. Sounds black and white. Until one has a major heart attack and is brought back from the brink of death without oxygen to the brain for longer than the brain can recover from. No one saw that coming.

Life is like that. We cannot become consumed in all of the ifs, ands and maybes. We can only deal with what we have and live our days as best as we can. When we wake up ready to face the day in manner we have become accustomed to, we are beyond fortunate. I am grateful for what I have. But I am equally sorrowful for those who are fighting to regain their equilibrium. 

Body heal thyself. It is but a small wish I wish for you. Today and all days.

Back in the Saddle Again

I woke up to a bird choir singing outside my window and the soothing sound of a distant train whistle when my eyes popped open at 5:00 this morning. My chosen wake-up time. My favorite sounds. Ahhhh.

It has been a chaotic time for my tired brain. Bookkeeping deadlines, tending to my aunt's housekeeping/grocery/misc needs in four days instead of five, then my own household requirements (no time for groceries there), packing what I wanted to take to my weekend oasis and heading out there in time to mow the half acre of  "lawn" (I am exaggerating the square footage but that is what it feels like when I'm mowing and use the word lawn hesitantly as the grass is sparse, I over-sprayed for weeds and killed off a fair bit and our regular rains didn't water what was left of the grass so I kicked up a LOT of dust as I mowed) before the weekend began. 

I was already prepared for company but got a side order of distraction when the fridge at my little oasis quit working. High socialization requirements for the weekend were met &/or exceeded (I'm not bragging. My expectations of myself were not high). I glided through the weekend with a dysfunctional fridge in the background of my thoughts with the mantra "There is nothing I can do about it so there is no sense worrying about it" on repeat. 

Do your best. Surround yourself with siblings and their spouses. Toss in a sister to mastermind the catering (again). Add a little family reunion. Season with a drop-by-visit with a cousin new to the neighborhood. That is my personal recipe for the most perfect unperfect weekend of the year.

After the dust settled (literally, as I think of our dusty lawn), I was left alone in my little oasis. I settled in with a few troubleshooting suggestions from www.familyhandyman.com and [drum roll please] the fridge is working again. At least this morning (Dr FamilyHandyman suggests there is a problem with the defrost heater/timer/or thermostat). 

I woke up at my favorite waking time, did my stretches (I have done neither since my string of late nights began five days ago as I struggled to meet my bookkeeping deadlines then late nights became the norm thereafter) had some cold water from the presently functioning fridge and finally felt the long awaited ahhhh-some moment I have come to know and love.

As I navigated my late nights, knowing that much socialization would be on the agenda, I slept in each morning knowing there would be more late nights on the horizon. My sleep schedule was navigated with ease as the extra waking hours at night were offset by a few more sleeping hours in the morning (I'm not bragging. I am eternally grateful for my sleeping superpowers). To wake up on a Monday morning with a spring in my step and actually anticipating the return of my regularly scheduled life is a gift I did not expect as I anticipated the weekend past.

I don't wake up every Monday morning feeling this way. It is the return to my satisfying quiet little life that is key. The fact that all the looming deadlines at my day job were met last week. Waking up to a day of high expectations is an exhausting way to greet the day.

You know you are living the life you are intended to live when you wake up, after a good nights sleep, on a Monday morning AND you are grateful to hop back on that horse and be back in the saddle again.

Like Bailey's in My Coffee

"What will I blog about today?" were my closing thoughts of my three handwritten pages of morning thoughts. I can't remember what I thought at the end of that page. That was 2 hours and 12 minutes ago. 

Since that time, I've dipped my toes into my bookkeeping work day, balanced my credit card record books, paid a bill, wistfully wondered how I am spending my hard-earned pay cheques, listened to Glennon Doyle's "We Can Do Hard Things" podcast (accompanied by Glennon's sister, Amanda and her wife, Abby Wambach) ... (if you are interested, you can listen to it here: We Can Do Hard Things - My Hardest Thing).

I wish I could sit down in person with Glennon and simply listen. Listen, because only she holds her own answers. Listen, because that is what we most need - the need to be heard, when we are ready to put words to our thoughts. Listen, because that is where support is rooted. In the listening.

If Glennon was silent and looking towards me for input, I would guide her back to herself. I would say, "When I don't know where to turn I have, more often than not, found my answers in my own writing." Life has a way of repeating itself. In rereading one's own experience at a distance, one can feel the familiarity of someone you trust, who has been there. That someone is yourself.

Taking a step back and listening to your own words is the greatest gift of writing down your thoughts in the middle of the messy middle. It gives you the opportunity to pat yourself on the shoulder and say to yourself, "There, there my love. You've been here before. You've found your way through a similar fate. Take what you can from the lessons you've learned from the past. I know, I know ... it IS hard. It IS different. It IS easier to say than to do. But when you can, if you can, reread your words. Your answer is within, even if that answer is to look outside for the assistance you need to wade through and beyond the middle of the hard part."

I have not walked the walk another is going through. As much as I try, I cannot know what it feels like to be in someone else's shoes. 

Glennon has written, spoken and lived her way through some of her life experience. She has parented three children. In my imagination, I think of Glennon as being a valuable role model, teacher and a strong support to each of her children. One of her children (Tish) wrote the song "We Can Do Hard Things" which is played at the end of every Tuesday morning podcast. As I listened to Tish's song at the end of today's podcast, her words, the melody, the message of Glennon's teachings all wrapped up in four minutes and eighteen seconds broke my heart wide open. It felt like a soothing balm on an open wound.

Thank you, Glennon for your masterful artistry of putting words together to form sentences, paragraphs, pages, chapters and books for us to read, absorb and instill in our lives.

Yes, we are the only ones who hold our own answers. But opening yourself up and finding those "I'm not the only one?" and "Me too!" moments within the world around you feels like a warm hug on a cold day (or "Like Bailey's in my coffee on a cool camping morning", a phrase stolen and badly paraphrased from a conversation I just heard).

P.S. It was only after I posted this, that I realized I couldn't have chose a more inappropriate title to a post that is honoring a recovering addict. Sorry, Glennon.

P.P.S. Also, please note that much of what I have written in today's post has been written and spoken of by Glennon herself. Glennon often puts words to a way I already think but is so easy to steal once a vocabulary on the topic has been formed. I discovered Glennon on March 23, 2013 (I wrote about it here - Climbing the Mountain of Life) as "proof" that I did have deep thoughts before I met Glennon through the interwebs)

The Lost 22 Minutes

I planned to get up by 6:00 this morning but stayed in bed until 6:22 a.m. Those crucial 22 minutes could have made all the difference in the world.

IF I had gotten up 22 minutes earlier, I would have been finished coloring my hair when my son got up and headed towards the shower. And the rest of this story would have happened in an easy to handle sequence of events which would have resulted in a completely different outcome.

Instead, I was panic stricken when my son appeared in the hallway so bright and early in the day. I was in between waiting for my roots to take the color and adding the remaining color to the rest of my hair. "I have five more minutes to wait before finishing my color, then I have to wait five more minutes before rinsing the color out of my hair. I need the bathroom!"

While I was adding the remainder of the color to my hair, I missed a phone call. 

When checking the messages, I hit the wrong buttons on the phone and accidentally called my boss. I hung up as soon as I could remember how to disconnect the phone while on speaker (my hair was still saturated in hair color so I needed to use the speaker phone and I hit "speaker" when I meant to hit "exit" and I still don't quite know how I dialed my boss. No worries. She called me right back. "I need a little help with my grocery order". I hoped I could sign in, help her pay for the order and try to return the call I missed while I was coloring my hair. It wasn't to be that simple. Her postal code had changed over night and my trouble shooting skills had not yet woken up yet (it was only 7:09 a.m.) AND I still had my hair saturated in hair color.

While I was trying to figure out the grocery order gone awry, my timer went off. "Make sure to use the $15 voucher" was her advise to me when I told her I had to go to tend to my hair-color-in-progress.  

I could finally rinse the color out of my hair and I wouldn't be beholden to the clock. Conditioning my newly colored hair is normally when I have my coffee, work on my puzzles and do whatever sweating I must do before I hop in the shower and officially start the day. That wasn't happening this morning.

My middle son was coming by to pick up his younger brother at 7:30 a.m. (yes, it is not yet 7:30 and my morning is spiraling out of control). I stopped to chat with them momentarily before they headed off on their day trip and immediately went back to trying to save the grocery order I was trying to salvage.

I finally got the order figured out, went to pay for it and POOF! It was gone. No opportunity to enter the voucher code. "Can you just call them?" was her request when I phoned to tell her the good news, bad news scenario that just played out. Good news! I got your order figured out and paid for. Bad news! It didn't ask me to enter the voucher.

So ... I called. They couldn't help me. The only thing I could do was cancel the order and reorder it. I was JUST finishing that task when the phone rang. "Did you get my message?..." Yes, I did. I just haven't had a moment to call you back.

And so the day began.

It didn't get much better than this. But it didn't get worse. By 7:30 p.m., I had finally crossed off the items on my to-do-list, that I had hoped to have done before my work day started.

It is now 10:07 p.m. I have just completed my "morning puzzles" and web-surfing I usually do in the wee hours of the morning while the rest of the world is sleeping. I am finally where I usually am by 10:07 a.m. 

 If only I had gotten up 22 minutes earlier, this day would have started out so much smoother.

Tomorrow morning? I'm getting up with the birds! I'm going to savor my quiet morning hours before the rest of the world wakes up. And the best part? Tomorrow is Saturday. The day is "mine" to do with as I please!! And my plans for the day please me very much.

I'm Ready for a Math Holiday

All I have been doing lately is working. Work. Work. And more work.

In my quest to "catch up", I have discovered that keeping up to date in the bookkeeping world is as elusive as the never-ending-always-feeling-behind-sensation I felt when I worked at a grocery store bakery.

There was seemingly no end to the baking that needed to be packaged, labelled, restocked, then culled. Keeping up with the demand (or lack of) fresh baked goods was an ongoing and endless task. I hated that job. I hate to use the word hate. But I did. There is no satisfaction within a job where you are ALWAYS behind.

Enter the work-from-home scenario I have found myself living these past many months. Catching up was something I could now accomplish now that my bookkeeping work lived with me.

That was an overwhelming and debilitating thought. Until I started tackling one big job at a time. "If only I can get 'this' done. Then I'll be caught up. But I still have to do 'that'. THEN I'll be caught up. But I still have to do 'the other things'. Then the phone or doorbell rings and I have four new pile of things-to-be-done." And so on and so forth.

I have shuffled a few mountains. I have not moved them. I have simply organized them, sorted them by date, created a spreadsheet to compile all information and now my work sits in four piles and a big, cloth grocery bag awaiting answers I need to complete the tasks at hand. So I have moved one mountain into four molehills and one very big hill.

I've been working with numbers day in and day out. I'm ready for a break. Better yet, I'm ready for a cat day. Not much is stressing out our miniature black panthers.

 

Sunday

Sunday has been and continues to be my favorite day of the week. How I could fritter away the entirety of my favorite day doing so very little is quite astounding. 

I've become the queen of "doing nothing". The unfortunate part is, I'm not doing it well.

I woke up to my weekend hangover of nothingness feeling absolutely, completely and totally spent. What the heck is wrong with me?!?

Then ... I looked at my existence from the outside, looking in and decided to give myself a break.

When I got outside my own head for a minute, I saw myself and the role I have been playing within my small little world. The words that came to mind as I looked at this alien version of myself was "Supporting Person".

I'm not the star in my own show. Other story lines are running through my own. I listen. I relate. I do my best to understand. I am there. Not in a big way. Just in a small understated "supporting role".

When I validated my role, I forgave myself for feeling mentally inept over the course of the weekend. One cannot continue to do nothing for forever. But one weekend? What has been done cannot be undone. Just take one step in a forward direction.

A new week awaits.

Hope Springs Eternal

I'm a bit of a dreamer. 

I like to think I'm an optimistic thinker. 

Gratitude is my daily prayer. 

Faith is simply my belief that (one way or another), things will work out. 

Some how. 

Some way. 

The sun always rises. 

We get a new chance every day. 

Even when we don't want it. 

The sun keeps shining through the closed blinds 

as if to beckon us out of whatever moment we are in 

and invite us to open the blinds to behold the wonder of life.

I had a very quiet weekend.

I love quietness.

I took one day to do all the hard things.

I washed my hair.

I vacuumed.

I washed a load of "whites".

I washed the shower curtain.

I wrote a blog.

I replied to an email.

Then I rested.

I woke up yesterday to a fresh new day.

All the hard things had been done.

A clean slate.

I knew exactly what I wanted to write on that slate.

I wanted to work.

And I did.

I put in a productive day.

I did hard things.

Then I rested.

I slept in this morning.

I missed the early morning dawn when I normally spot our neighborhood rabbits.

I know for a fact we have three rabbits.

I suspect we have four.

One morning, I saw one rabbit. 

I dubbed this rabbit "Loner",

because there always seems to be one rabbit who is set apart from the rest.

Loner hopped out of sight.

I waited.

I wondered if "The Twins" would appear.

We have a set of rabbits who seem to travel together.

When you see one, the other is usually in sight.

Then there is "A Third" who sometimes joins them.

Sometimes not.

I waited only a few moments.

I was rewarded with the appearance of "The Twins", 

soon followed by "The Third".

Yes,

"I think we have four rabbits",
I told my son who is tiring of my rabbit tales.

I thought I had no hope of spotting a rabbit at this morning's late hour.

I opened the blinds.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear ...

but FOUR rabbits!

Now, my question is:

"Do we have four rabbits?

(the Loner, Twins & a Third) ...

or do we have eight rabbits??

The only other time I spotted four rabbits at the same time

is when they hopped in from the south 

and joined the Twins & a Third (Loner had already taken off to the west).

Four rabbits at one sighting.

In the daylight.

So I could document the moment.

I felt like this morning's rabbit sighting was a reward.

A pat on the back for doing the hard things this weekend past.

A nod of approval that sleeping in is okay.

A sign that just because we don't see something doesn't mean it isn't there.

And a definite sign of spring!

The rabbits are shedding their winter coats,

the snow is melting,

daylight is exceeding moonlight,

and it is (finally) warming up.

The sun rises every morning.

Spring is guaranteed to follow winter.

Eventually.

It sometimes feels there is little we know to be true these days.

We don't know how long before we can reignite our social lives and our economy

as this COVID-19 pandemic rules the world.

We don't know the lasting impact this will have.

We don't know who will be infected.

We have no idea how this virus could infiltrate our lives.

Just keep waking up.

Open the blinds and gaze outside.

Do one of the hard things you didn't do yesterday. 

Or not.

You can do hard things tomorrow too.

Rest.

Always rest.

Be grateful for the smallest of things.

Prepare to be amazed.

Marvel at the world around you and dare to wonder ...

This morning

I am wondering

do we just have four rabbits in our midst,

or eight?

Either way,

With spring, comes baby rabbits.

Hope springs eternal.

Platitudes

Is it too soon to say this out loud? I am tired of the "Merry Christmases" and "Happy New Years" and all the other platitudes of the season. They have been used, over-used, recycled, refreshed and said so many times that I hear static in my ears when I hear or read the words. The words have lost their meaning.

I wrote this and went on to rant some more. When I started to run out of the meaningless things people say automatically, I searched the Internet for more. It seems one can always find someone who agrees with you when you search the masses. And I did.

I reread my rant (which I have now deleted), after reading someone who had more to offer on the subject. Then I started reading the comments. I am one of the worst offenders of spouting off some of the most annoying platitudes on the list. There are times when these used and overused phrases come from a place of wanting to say something, to fill the silence and try to fill the void with words.

My opinion is merely that. It is my opinion alone. The high and mightiness of my initial thoughts came from a place where I spent far too much time scrolling through Facebook over the holiday season.

I saw photos after photos of family and friend gatherings where food, gifts, Christmas trees and cheer galore were plentiful. I looked at the photos and saw "Christmases Past". The reminder was both heart warming and bittersweet at the same time. It was like looking into a mirror that was reflecting my thoughts of the moment.

There were "Merry Christmas" messages to all strewn throughout the page. So many. I thought of the times when I have posted something on Facebook and the validation I felt as the "Likes", comments and shares rolled in. I start to feel like less than myself when the "Liking" subsides. I felt empty when I looked at these Christmas wishes to all reverberating around the world of Facebook.

There is truly nothing wrong with it for those who are sending their wishes out into the world. It saddens me that these "group messages" have taken the place of sending Christmas cards and/or letters. What saddens me more, is that I have become one who didn't send out cards this year.

Our little family doesn't "do" Christmas in a traditional sense. My son said it best when he said, "For us, I believe, the lack of attention to standard ‘dates’ has made the everyday/any day much more memorable." I read his words and my thoughts immediately went to the everyday moments that accidentally became special. There was no agenda, no expectation or excuse. Little moments became bigger than we could have ever hoped for. Simply because we were there, together and open to whatever happened to unfold.

Whatever kind of day you may or may not be having, I do hope it is the kind of day you need. You don't have to be Happy or Merry or anything at all. I do wish you peace in your heart though. That is not a platitude. I mean this with all my heart.

It's Not the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

I don't buy into the commercialism, high expectation and high stress levels of the Christmas season. I am not minimizing the sacredness many find at this time of year. I am frustrated over the anxiety it causes to those who strive to attain the "perfect" Christmas.

It seems to me that most things are magnified at this time of year. The good feels better, the bad feels worse, losses feel greater, loneliness is amplified, family harmony is tested, finances are stretched thin and whatever it is you feel deeply about, simply seems bigger than other times of the year.

I used to find my Christmas spirit in writing letters, creating a gift from the heart that was less about dollars spent and more about creating memories. I have succumbed less and less to the demands of the season and find myself calmer and calmer. The less I stress myself out, the more I notice those who are bending to the traditions of their past.

I'm not walking in the shoes of others so I cannot judge. I simply wonder.

I wonder if someone could find joy in finding some way to let go of past expectations and disappointments. Honor the past, focus on the lightness you feel in the memory, waft in it for a while and let it go...

I wonder if they could find comfort in enveloping the moment they are in, no matter who they are or are not spending their time with at Christmas...

I wonder if looking outside and finding wonder in the glistening snow, a blue sky or any one of nature's creatures that may come into view may lightness of heart...

I wish for simple things. White lights. The whisper of laughter within. Acceptance and grace of the moment one is in.

My wish is a hefty one. I know. If there was a Santa Claus, this would be my wish. Peace in your heart, comfort in your memories and hope for whatever tomorrow may bring.