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.

War of the Birds

The quiet of my morning was interrupted by the sounds of a war being waged among the birds in the trees outside the kitchen window. The distress calls were fierce, multiplied by their neighboring relatives joining the scene to unite forces. There were grackles and robins flying in and out of the trees. My assumption was someone's nest was under attack. My next assumption was the grackles and robins were at war. I was wrong.

I happened to look at the ground and spotted a crow, surrounded by some grackles, just before it flew into the tree. The robins and grackles appeared to be uniting forces against the crow. It was quite a scene to behold.

This vantage point is from the closed kitchen window:

This is from outside, after the grackles and robins deterred the robin from the trees by the window, to the trees by the shed:

I watched the battle for as long as it took the small birds to chase the crow across the street and out of sight. I silently cheered as the sheer numbers and group effort of two different species of birds, who are not necessarily allies in the whole scheme of things, deterred their common enemy. 

Witnessing this unity against an enemy in common gave me hope for humankind. Further thought led to the outcome if there had been more crows. Would the distress calls been loud enough to call in enough troops to save the day?

Nature is not kind. The natural order of things result in outcomes that defy a Disney World ending. 

This morning, the crow verses grackles took place on the other side of the house. When I peered out the window, I spotted the crow walking on the neighbor's roof. The grackles were holding their own but the distress calls were different. I watched the grackles fly in and band together, strategically placed among the branches. There was a completely different vibe this morning. I didn't get the feeling a nest was under attack. Yet the grackles seemed determined to protect their territory even when the stakes were not as high. 

I quietly named the crow a name that rhymes with "Grump" and let my thoughts linger a moment. The state of the world feels very precarious. Will the distress calls be loud enough to call in enough troops to save the day?

Now What?

I stumbled upon Brooke Shield's podcast "Now What?" a few days ago. Everything about it speaks to me. Starting with the title. "Now what?"

That is exactly where I am right now. Purgatory. One foot in two different worlds. Each foot feeling solidly placed but the space in between (where my head and thoughts reside) is feeling torn and angsty.

Thus, Brooke's podcast had me from the moment GO. All of her guests share a story of  "Now what?" moments. That spot where you must move on from where you are. A place when life forces your hand and you must move onward and out of an existing situation.

I have a good history of knowing what to do next when life forces my hand. It is entirely different when I'm the one who is navigating the course. Indecision, uncertainty and rerunning the same words and scenarios over and over in my head and conversations has become old. 

I'm tired of the loop I'm in. I cannot imagine those who are listening to my repetitive conversations. "Make a move. Make a change. Make a decision. And act accordingly, Girl!!"

The forward steps I have taken into my "Now what" decision feel right. I have a deep sense of feeling I'm headed in the right direction. Until I come back home. 

It is hard to move onto from someplace so comforting, familiar and full of good memories. It's hard to let go of something good and reach toward something new. Am I just running away from life-as-I-know it? Or walking towards a future I believe in? A little bit of both.

It is the running-away-from element that haunts me. I know I need to let go before I move on. Letting go is hard.

Now what?

I Can't Wait to Wake up Tomorrow

I cannot wait to be on the other side of today. Today will be filled with all the things that feel the hardest. Are these things really that hard or have I ramped up the volume on the agenda I have set before me?

There are so many deadlines to meet within my bookkeeping world. Every time I flip the calendar page, I'm faced with a new set of challenges. I suppose I should be grateful for both the change and the routine. I have done this before. I will do it again. It is familiar. I know how to wade my way through it all.

I woke up in the middle of the night remembering I had forgotten to fill out one section of a multipage document I submitted yesterday. As I was sitting here, I remembered another pending task that will soon be on the list of deadlines-to-meet. 

Then there is the unexpected. The above and beyond. The variety I should be craving in a repetitive job is adding to the stressors instead of relieving them.

I have not had a holiday where I can leave the responsibilities of my home office behind since work moved in with me in March, 2020. 

The weight of it all is feeling heavy. 

I walked into my office in an attempt to take a blurry picture of the chaos behind the door.

Then this caught my eye.

The one and only personal item within the world of paper, bookwork and numbers.

Thanks, Glennon. I needed this reminder today.

Let's just keep going.

TGIF

An unoriginal title for a worn and tired being at the keyboard. I've said it before and I'll say it again (and again and again), I cannot believe I am 62 years old and still living for the weekend.

The weekdays exhaust me. I never catch up within my bookkeeping world and investigating the stories behind the numbers is a never-ending challenge. I am working well beyond my limitations and I feel imprisoned by my role. I wanted only to be a plain and simple "bookkeeper". I have little to no desire to take what I've learned and become anything more. I've hit my peak and I do not aspire to go any higher. I'm done. I am so done.

My senior supper hour partner is losing ground. Conversations that were simply repetitive have taken on a new tone. Words such as hate; ugly; never; can't; won't; no have entered the building and humor has started looking at the door. I realized as I was walking out the door last night, that I have stopped smiling. I will try and try again. This time I will look hard at my own language and sense of humor.

There have been challenges related to work, that go above and beyond all expectations. A stolen wallet set off a chain reaction I'm still battling. Banking transactions that should be black and white are all shades of cloudy. Yesterday I walked in and out of the bank and was able to accomplish my mission without question and ended with a friendly smile from a teller I have come to know fairly well during this time of woe. 

There! That is what I must shift my focus towards. A genuine parting smile and little joke is how I ended my evening with my senior supper partner. A wide grin from my teller and the words, "Done! Is there anything else I can help you with?" I am reclaiming some "white space" within my home office. It is a battle I will never win but I am keeping the enemy at bay.

Now, if only there was a positive spin I could find to manage the relentless shedding of cat hair within this home of ours. I have vacuumed four times in six days and there is no noticeable improvement. When life gives you this much cat hair, what can one do but stuff a quilt?

Positive language. A sense of humor. A relentless desire to push beyond the piles of paper to rediscover the table within.

If all else fails, let the magic of a weekend revive your spirit. Happy Friday!!

I Can Only Imagine

I recently listened to a podcast where the well worn phrase "I can't imagine" (what someone else is going through) was brought into focus and dissected. Of course we can imagine. If we are saying the words, we ARE trying to imagine. As I listened to the discussion, I immediately thought of the words "I understand" (what another person is going through) and how in people's desire not to assume what another person is enduring, could easily utter the words "I can't imagine" with the best of intentions.

When I hear of news that touches me deeply, it is most likely because it has touched a familiar chord and brings up my personal memories of a time when I was touched by a similar fate. I have been feeling deeply and remembering a time when I faced a similar situation a lot lately.

The loss of a parent is unique to each and every one of us. The relationship we have or didn't have with them; the arsenal of memories, good, bad or indifferent; the longing for what we had or wished we had ... the list is endless. Though we cannot assume what the one who has suffered a recent loss is enduring, if we have a parent (and we all do), we can try to imagine what it may feel like if we were to walk in those shoes.

I could fill a notebook with my own personal thoughts, reflections, lessons learned and significant memories to my experience but I want to silence my words. I simply want to listen. To hear what another is feeling as they walk into uncharted territory.

My story isn't important. I have walked a parallel path. I can empathize. I can listen. But I can only imagine what another is going through.

When I say "my thoughts are with you", I mean it with every fiber of my being. 

I can only imagine...

It's Always Darkest in the Middle of the Night

As I near the end of my first work week after holidays, "Friday" is my savior. I can do anything for ONE more day.

The weight of the world I felt upon waking the mornings that preceded this one have lifted. I had a human experience that knocked me off my pedestal and I have landed smack dab back in the middle of reality. I made a mistake.

This is not the first time I have made an error in a larger-than-life kind of way (at least it feels like that in the moment I'm in). What I am pondering is: are high stress levels the precursor to these misdeeds? How many times have I been ready to throw in the towel and quit everything preceding some of the bigger mistakes I've made? Almost every time.

The moment I find out I've made a grievous error, I plummet down to earth with a thud. I am human. I am no better than anyone else. I am humbled to a place where I must begin again. Ground zero.

In that moment, I am upset by no one else but myself. I am back in a place where I am the only one who can control how I act and react. I am back in my own driver's seat.

Each time I fall, I pick myself up, dust myself off, make note of the lesson I've learned and take the next forward step. These are a few of the mantras I've picked up along the way:

• In the thick of a chaotic, stressful, anxiety ridden moment, do NOT make any sudden moves.
• Act. Don't REact.
• See how it feels in the morning.
• Listen to that which wakes you up at night.
• If the same thing continues waking you up at night, your inner voice is telling you something you need to know.

Waking up to this morning wasn't as hard as waking up to yesterday or the day before or the day before that. I hit my peak of darkness "yesterday". I couldn't see the light. I felt powerless. 

May you find a light to guide you through your own personal dark spells. It is there somewhere. It may feel out of reach. You may have to stumble and fall before you find it. 

Don't give up. 

There comes a point when the darkness turns to light. But it is hard to remember that because it always feels darkest in the middle of the night.

Unrest

The news channels are pouring out 24/7 news on the state of unrest that has upset the status quo within the world around us. I am not well versed enough to speak to the topic. I watched one half hour broadcast of our national news so I am not completely in the dark. As messages from world leaders punctuated the wind up of the day's events, the one message that spoke most loudly came from South Africa. Simple and powerful in its message "Pray for America".

Meanwhile, within the safe, quiet, bubble wrapped little world I exist in, I tossed and turned most of the night wrestling my own state of unrest. The contentment of my Christmas vacation bubble has burst and I'm counting the minutes to retirement ...

When work issues wake me up at night, I know there has been too much unfinished business at the end of the day. I do my best to confront those middle-of-the-night thoughts the following day and I succeed at my mission more often than not. But it is more than the work load. 

My subconscious mind took my thoughts and spun them into a dream. I used to "run away" and spend a weekend with Mom when I felt like this in the past. So in my dream, I did just that:

I was visiting Mom in her new home. She was well, content and making her way through her new life with ease. 

She lived in a brand new home, sparsely furnished only with what she needed. She had a walk in closet large enough to be a spare bedroom, with only a few clothes on the hangers. Her bedroom was sun lit and huge, with only a bed in the middle of it. 

She had a young boarder living with her [I'm pretty sure it was Mark Sloan's daughter from Grey's Anatomy - I had finally fallen asleep to one of those episodes]. Mom was completely at ease with the comings and goings of this young girl. The girl offered to show me her living space. She lived downstairs and had taken over the space in an over-the-top kind of way. Stuff. Clutter. Belongings everywhere. And did Mom mind? Not a bit.

Mom talked on her cordless phone as she wandered through her expansive living area. I commented on it [Mom despised talking on a cordless phone in real life] and she replied, "There is really no other way here ..."

The dream was comforting. Mom was there for me when I went to visit. She was calming. She was so content. Her attitude was that of "That's okay" [I rewind my memory reel to the video my brother created, called "A Day in the Life of Mom and Tramp", as our family pet was recorded on video, doing all the things he was never allowed to do in Mom's presence. Then when my brother interviewed Mom for this home movie, when he asked what she thought of this she simply stated, "That's okay"].

I woke up from my dream not wanting to leave the safe harbor of visiting Mom in her new home. The essence of "Mom" was exactly what I needed.

I want to run away. My Christmas vacation was heavenly. I didn't leave the house, I didn't answer to anyone, everything we needed was right here under our roof. 

During my holiday, I worked at my bookkeeping job several days. I could honestly say I loved my job when the day wasn't punctuated with various interruptions, phone calls, urgent needs to meet and losing control of the day. I started work when I was ready to start. I quit when I was finished with what I hoped to accomplish with the day, without having to be somewhere else by a certain time. It was heavenly.

I have organized my little world so I rarely have to enter a store or be in contact with people in any more than a minimal way. My first day back was "can you go here" then "deliver this there", followed by "can you pick this up" then go "do this" then "work outside of home" ...

All of this extra-curricular contact after spending eleven days isolating at home were uncomfortable. The tipping point? The expectation of working outside my home. I wrestled with anxiety throughout yesterday and into the night. I woke up this morning feeling all angsty. 

There is a state of unrest in the world. My troubles are nothing in the whole scheme of things. I know this. Oh, what I would give to be able to run off to Mom's for the weekend ...

I miss you, Mom. That is all.

Time Well Spent

A subconscious thought planted in my mind Monday morning may or may not have made the difference to the way I have approached this week.

Perhaps I have been more productive because the groundwork had already been laid. The tedious, hardest part of a job was done so when I had to "wrap it up", it didn't take long. I had time left over to tackle another quarterly job. Again, because I was already caught up on the prelimary work, it was not hard to complete the task set out before me.

I tend to believe I spend a lot of time "spinning my wheels" within this home office of mine. I may be wrong about that.

Time spent organizing and finding a place for everything and everything in its place means I don't lose time searching for things. I do NOT have a filing box. I simply put things where they belong so I don't have to waste time looking. It takes less than a minute to file a paper in its proper spot. Those are seconds well spent.

Jobs in progress have been laid out on my working table. Even though it looks like a bit of a disaster zone, there is a place for everything and everything in its place. When I needed to find the answers to questions, it took but a moment to find what I was looking for. I may (or may not) have dazzled my boss by putting my finger on the answers so effectively.  

I procrastinated all weekend. I admonished myself for not working on "the big job" that has been haunting me for longer than I care to admit. I lost a night of sleep over this job but I refused to get up at 2 a.m. and work on it because there is a time and a place for working. The middle of the night is NOT that time. 

The following day was Friday. Due to the fact that work had me tossing and turning all night, I did NOT have any desire to work the next morning. I went into the office. I started. I was easily distracted. When unexpected guests arrived, I welcomed them and the excuse to put off working. "I'll work tomorrow instead," I told myself. I lied.

I didn't work Saturday. I opened the office door Sunday in an attempt to entice myself into the work zone on my day off. But I didn't enter. What I DID do, was subconsciously map out my plan of attack. I knew what had to be done and how I was going to tackle it. Monday morning, I was armed and dangerous.

I've been ticking off boxes of things-that-need-to-get-done quickly and efficiently this week. I even tackled an off-site job yesterday and it went so much better than anticipated. 

My motivation to "clear the deck" of all the hard things this week has served me well. I still have several 95% complete jobs sitting out in my work space, with only two days left to tie up the loose ends.

There is no end to the work which is piling up behind this current state of completed-ness. It was starting to pile up before this week of productivity. My clear work space will be filled with more work and challenges ahead. 

I have spent a lot of time belittling myself for not working as efficiently as I expect of myself. I have not given myself credit for time spent doing the work that doesn't show in preparation for the big jobs that overwhelm me. 

As I write this, looking back in my rear view mirror, I am seeing a parallel between my bookkeeping work and a home renovation. Renovations begin with an idea. A spark. A plan. This could take years to formulate, depending upon the scale of work. Once the plan is set in action, there is SO much work to be done before any new work begins. Demolition, removing "what is", preparing the work area for "what is to come", the dirty unappreciated work that is beneath the surface. Preparation feels like 90% of the job. Then comes the renovation itself. Every step along the way is laid out in preparation for the steps to follow (and there are many). Renovations feel endless. 

A successful renovation begins with preparation. Time invested in planning, mapping out a strategic course of action and getting the hard, dirty work behind you is time well spent. By the time you reach the 95% mark, there is still work to be done. 

I'm at the 95% mark now. I'm in the home stretch. I feel like a marathon runner who is getting that last surge of energy to make it to the finish line. I'm almost there ...

The hardest part was beginning. Starting is often the hardest part. But don't forget to give yourself credit for time spent in the preparation phases. The pauses in life are sometimes exactly what we need. 

Armed and Ready to Go

I am fueled with a most excellent weekend in the books and motivated by upcoming days off to make the most of the next five working days. This feels like a recipe for success.

I didn't do anything important this past weekend. The pile of paperwork I have been working on was ignored. Entirely and completely. I did vacuum the cat hair off the lids of said containers. But that is all.

My sisters showed up for a socially distant deck-visit yesterday. I don't even know what we talked about. A little bit of everything. The gift was in their presence. They were here. We were all together. And it was good.

I did not accomplish ONE extra task this past weekend. I did not even succeed at cooking ONE meal. And it's okay. The work will be done. Sooner or later.

But in the meantime, I have a busy agenda. The plan is to make the most of the next five days ahead so I can make the most of the free time which is to follow.

Motivation is something I am working on. I am disappointed in myself. I am setting a very poor example for my youngest son still living at home.

As I marvelled at my middle son's ambition, motivation and accomplishments I sighed, "I used to be more like you ..." His response was, "Where do you think I got this from? I remember ..."

I did this once. I can do it again. One hard thing at a time. Just get 'er done! 

"Six impossible things before lunch" - this is a quote that goes back to the beginning of my blog. Getting the "hard things" done and out of the way before lunch is key.

Everything I need to know, I have already written. From this point onward, perhaps I should stop writing and just start reading.

Here is a little piece of "wisdom" I wrote back when I was younger, wiser and much more motivated: 

TUESDAY, JANUARY 22, 2008

Six Impossible Things Before Lunch

I once went to a very inspirational hair dresser who was full of thought provoking ideas. She told me of a client that she had, who had the motto to do ''Six Impossible Things Before Lunch". Depending on your day, some of those things may be as small as getting out of bed, having a shower and having breakfast. But the important thing was to do ''Six Impossible Things" in the morning.

Well, as I looked at the phone calls I had to make today as well as a "sick" computer (I'm still ending up causing havoc in people's inboxes with my emails). I felt overwhelmed at the tasks before me.

I made one phone call. I told myself that it is so much easier to call in the morning. By the end of the day I'm running out of gusto and the thought of picking up the phone and dialing it feels overwhelming a lot of the time.

One phone call led to the next and the next and the next. I have set up a time and place to meet up with a few more of my aunts (and invited a cousin along for the ride as well) for my next fact-finding mission for this history book.

I felt like I could conquer the world after I did "Four Impossible Things" (four phone calls). Wow!! Getting the tough part of your day over with first thing in the morning is definitely a way to jump start your day!!! (I should really start exercising again. One more impossible thing).

After that, I was actually eager to tackle the computer problems. I contacted my the tech-support department of the antivirus program I have and ran scans in the 'safe mode' as they suggested. We'll see if that works.

I wonder what six impossible things I shall tackle tomorrow???

Better Days

One of my personal mottos is: "The good thing about a very bad day is [often], the next day is better"

Let me add the disclaimer this is not always the truth. Bad days are not always followed by better days but there is one almost sure fire guarantee. The next day will be different.

Personally, if I can examine that very bad day and pinpoint where things went wrong or why I took a set of circumstances personally, I do my best to address my personal responsibility and attempt to let the rest go. I am better at this some days than others.

If circumstances are beyond my control, I throw my hands up in the air and mutter to myself "I did my best but the wrong things happened". I give myself permission to feel badly, pat myself on the back for doing my level best (our best changes day by day and the best is all we can ever ask of ourselves) and carry on to live another day.

I've had a few bad days in recent history. Let me disclose the fact that I have a very easy life and my definition of a "bad day" is relative to the weeks and months preceding aforementioned days. A bad day in my life is not all that terrible.

I am well aware there are situations which are dire and of much more consequence than those I have contended with. I'm not talking about those days. In fact, I tend to handle the bigger, life altering life events better than I deal with the little stuff. It's the little stuff that brings me down (almost) every time.

Knowing when to consult a professional can alter a day. Computer technology comes to mind as an example. Deciphering when I can figure something out versus admitting defeat and calling a computer expert is a blurry line. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. Losing a day-long battle against technology can leave one feeling very weary. But, when comparing said defeat against a real live crisis of epic proportions, it keeps one's perspective in view.

When you look backwards at a day and can pinpoint the exact moment when things went awry and how the domino effect of one simple action affected everything to follow, it may help to take a portion of accountability on yourself. Even though there is nothing you can do about it, if you can walk away with the thought, "Note to self: next time I will do [this] differently and hope for better results". 

There are so very many kinds of days where one feels beaten down and worn out after a long, hard day of life.

There isn't a person I know who lives without worry, pressure, tension, anxiety, trauma, pain or difficulty in some form. Everyone you meet is carrying the weight of their world on their shoulders. Some bear the burden inwardly, others may show signs of weariness, but it is almost a guarantee that everyone you meet is fighting a battle you cannot see.

There are so many stressors people are facing. Health; relationships; financial burdens; work; mental illness; concern over family/friend's well being; feelings of being overwhelmed, misunderstood or not seen; too much/not enough responsibility; work/unemployment; isolation/not enough isolation and the list goes on. 

We are acting and reacting to all the above mentioned conditions on a day-to-day, moment-to-moment basis. Interactions between us are almost guaranteed to go sideways because each of us is dealing with our own "stuff". The potential for misunderstanding is high.

I wrote that sentence, looked up and the title of this book from my bookshelf literally jumped out at me:

When our bad days go badly due to interactions with others, it is hard not to take them personally. It can be even harder to pinpoint an exact cause and action to rectify a problem. The chance for re-occurrence is high.

In my experience, the best way to deal with the "day after" is after taking a step back, sleeping on it and coming back at the experience without the emotion driving the feelings of a bad situation.

In my daycare days, I wrote newsletters. Writing forces me to re-examine, re-read and reflect on how my words sound to the person on the receiving end. Writing has been a godsend to me. I can defuse my emotions, search for words with less of a sting and after sorting my thoughts on paper, I can maintain a sense of calmness when speaking of how something has affected me without adding fuel to the fire.

Writing has made me better at vocalizing my thoughts. It is in my nature to avoid confrontation or arguments. The fact that I have a quiet voice assists me in making my point. I have never solved an issue by pretending it didn't exist. 

There is a sense of calm that follows after simply doing what is within your power and letting the rest go. 

Give yourself a break today. Know that you did your best. Remind yourself that your "best" changes day by day, moment by moment. Hope for better days ahead. Even though today may not be that day, remind yourself better days are on the horizon. 

Sigh of Relief

This past week took a lot out of me. Maybe it's the moon. Maybe it's not. Maybe it's justified. Maybe it's not. Maybe I'm weak. Maybe I'm not. Maybe it's too much Coronavirus consciousness. Maybe I'm just a whiner.

Life handed out a lesson on mortality, the imprint a life makes here on earth and the importance of living a life in anticipation of "what's next", while enjoying the moment you are in. 

If I died tomorrow, would I be happy with the week I just lived?

I did my best but I was not at my best. I was kind but I could have been kinder. I worked more than I played. 

Then I did the ONE thing that tipped the balance. I cleaned.

My sons came home from a day trip they had taken to do some rock climbing and hiked through some prairie sand dunes. My middle son was kind enough to give me a perfect amount of produce from his garden.

I was had just finished my list of cleaning chores when they drove up. My son proudly handed over the vegetables of his labor. I looked at them and muttered inside my head "This is why I like to buy my vegetables from the store - I don't have to clean them first".

We came inside and as I walked across the kitchen floor I commented, "The floor feels dirty and I just finished vacuuming it." My son lowered his head and asked, "Does it feel like sand? I think it's me."

I felt the entirety of the day I had experienced but not vented aloud come out in one loud sentence, "This is why I don't clean any more. I just get grumpy!"

We exchanged some civil conversation before everyone went their own way and went on to live another hour.

I had a tough Friday. My week was hard. I could not wait for yesterday to end.

I woke up this morning and breathed a great sigh of relief. I made it through another week. Exhale.

This is NOT living. It is existing. I'm ready to look for signs of life and inspiration. I'm off to spend the day with my siblings. I will inhale the day and resuscitate myself enough to endure the week ahead.

I repeat. This is NOT living the life I hoped for. 

Cooking and Housework

I have stumbled upon a very valid justification as to why "cooking and housework" fall to the bottom of my to-do-list more often than ever before. My excuse? Working from home.

Having my job move in with me is a perfect diversion from cleaning the fridge, culling and shredding obsolete paperwork and a bazillion other little tasks I could and should be doing. I do what has to be done. Our home is quite presentable and the untrained eye would say it is just fine. Only I know what deep dark chores lurk within the nooks and crannies of our humble abode. 

Then there is this household task called "cooking". Any cooking must be done before I step into my home office for the day. Once my head is work-mode, cooking is the furthest thing from my mind. Lunch consists of food of the grab 'n go variety. The closest thing I come to cooking during a work day, is toasting a bagel. I must know in advance what I'm going to pack for my supper meal otherwise I'm in trouble as I race out the door to my second job. 

One would think I would make up for lost cooking time on the weekends. One would be wrong. I tend to go to one of two extremes - a complete and total catatonic state OR I do some extra bookkeeping work. 

Yes, working from home has become a perfect alibi for me to get away with murder (or in my case, it absolves me of cooking and housekeeping duties).

Yesterday morning, I woke up to the onerous task of making spaghetti and meat sauce from the hamburger I had thawing in the fridge. I was supposed to cook this the day prior. But I worked instead. Working and cooking cannot co-exist within the same 24 hour period UNLESS I only work a half day (my rules - don't question them).

Plus, a can of tuna was sitting on the counter beside the tomato paste for the meat sauce, begging to be made into tuna salad for my favorite lunch of all time - toasted tuna sandwiches.

You can only imagine my angst as I looked at all this work taunting me before I stepped into my work day. I did not back down from the challenge. I took on the job before me. An hour (maybe an hour and a half?) later, the kitchen was back in its pre-cooking state. My lunch and supper meals were ready to eat and grab on the fly. And spaghetti & meat sauce was sitting in a ready-to-eat state within the fridge. 

All evidence of the work I had just accomplished was swept clean and I went on to live another work day.

Mom once reminded me of a comment I made when I was a child. I wished there was a pill I could take instead of having to eat. I was not a big fan of eating in those days. 

Then I grew up to be a mom myself and wished I could just go to the store and buy a huge bag of Kid Chow, the way I could buy Purina Cat and Dog Chow for our pets. 

Now? I could exist on a rinse and repeat menu of the same meals day in and day out. No thinking required. Smoothie and coffee for breakfast; toasted tuna sandwich for lunch; chili & rice for supper; Pringles, something sweet and Diet Coke for snacks. Oh! And my newest delectable find of all? Salted Caramel Chocolate Chip cookies from Walmart's bakery section. 

Just think how easy it would be to buy groceries if the need for variety within one's menu didn't exist? I may have more energy for housework if I didn't have to cook. 

Housework Hurts

I took on domestic chores in a very selective and time limited way this weekend.

Day #1 - I cooked. Egg salad, mashed potatoes and Stove Top Stuffing. I thought I would never get out of the kitchen. 

I love boiling eggs. They are the best food to cook. No fussing required. They were so easy I almost forgot I had boiled them. Then came the peeling part. The shells came off in a bazillion pieces. Why in the world did I boil so many eggs? Eventually I completed the task and knew it would be worth it when I sat down to enjoy a egg salad sandwich later. It was a little crunchier than usual. Some egg shells must have got by me. 

Then I peeled potatoes. Boiling eggs is so much more fun. I used up the remainder of a ten pound bag of potatoes. I swear I must have peeled seven of the ten pounds. It felt like the bag would never run empty. I knew there was a finite amount of potatoes in the bag so I forged on. It took forever but eventually I completed the mission.

Once the potatoes were cooked, all I had to do was mash them, clean up the kitchen and I could move on with my day. I went about the task like I always do, plugged in the mix master and whirrrrrr!!! The power switch was on and I counted my lucky stars that my finger tips just missed the whirling beaters. If I hadn't cut my fingernails, I'm pretty sure I would have got tangled up in them. I'm not a big fan of cooking but I've never considered it dangerous until yesterday.

I survived the first day.

Day #2 - I vacuumed. I've already written about this (see below) so I will say no more. Except I caught the tips of my toes in the beater bar of the vacuum cleaner. Not only is cooking dangerous, so is vacuuming. 

There is a reason cooking and housework have fallen to the bottom of my to-do-list. They are death defying feats for the inexperienced. Domestic duties should come with a warning label.

I barely survived the weekend with my fingers and toes intact. 

Moving Through Monday

Monday morning felt hard. I wanted to curl up into a cocoon and wait for a metamorphosis to occur. I've been a caterpillar long enough. I just want to regroup and become something more.

I couldn't wrap myself up in a blanket and quit. So I did the next best thing. I set some boundaries to create some of what I needed. 

"This" is what I'm going through. "This" is where I am at right now. "This" is what I need today.

I put my request out into the world and I was granted a reprieve. Once I was given that space to replenish and revive myself, that is exactly what I did.

The moment I was given the gift space and time, the weight of the world was lifted. Once the world got off my shoulders, I had the energy to start. 

Starting feels hard some days. The alternative is not a good one. When you don't begin, the finish line is impossible to see and the task set before you feels impossible.

Start. Just start. Something. Anything. 

So much easier said than done. There is a fine line between taking the time you need to replenish your resources and finding yourself in a place where you feel overwhelmed and incapable.

Been there, done that. I'm sure I'll be there again. 

The cycles of life. If we've done this all before, why does it still feel so hard some days?

Worst. Day. Ever.

**Please note: everything is relative. I lead a very easy life so "worst days" for me are truly not all that bad. This I know. Everything that follows this disclaimer is written from my own personal perspective on one particular day.**

Have you ever had a turning point in your day when you realize in hind sight, that you should have just walked away and tried again another day?  Me too.

This particular challenging day began with the best of intentions. Everything was going well so I decided to do just one quick thing as I tied up my work day at home and headed out to my out-of-house employment.

"I'll just do this [one thing] so I'm all set to go for tomorrow", I thought to myself with a self satisfied sigh.

That "one thing" did not go well. Technical difficulties at every turn. Trouble shooting tips from Google led to one, two, three, four and more different attempts to salvage the mission at hand. Then I had to leave the house.

Walking away from a challenge is often one of the best things one can do. Rebooting the computer is another favorite standby of mine. I did both. "Everything's gonna be okay" I told myself time and time and time again.

Then I made the mistake of going back to try to solve this after I got home from work. I often say that anything I do or say after 6:00 p.m. is equivalent to driving while under the influence of alcohol. I do not function on an intelligent level after the magic hour of 6:00 at night. I call it "impaired speaking".

Yet, I decided to try to fix a mind boggling technical issue after 7:00 p.m. Then I involved a second computer. What was I thinking?!??

Things went from bad to worse. I tried every trouble shooting mechanism known to me at the time. I tried, tried and tried again. I rebooted computers more often than I washed my hands that day. Reboot. Restart. Walk away. Try, try again.

I'm starting to see why I kept going back to relationships that didn't work for me - I used the same strategy.

After a long, frustrating evening I finally turned everything off and assured myself that I would wake up in the morning and on a fresh, clean, rested brain I would solve all the technical computer issues at hand.

Sure enough, I woke up with a brand new and shiny plan. A new day. A fresh start. Onward ...

Then things went from bad to worse. And even worse yet. I even messed up my online grocery order in an irreparable way. Even my email program defied me. Outbound messages sat in the Outbox folder and refused to go anywhere.

Everything I touched went awry. I couldn't even get one computer to turn on. These are not my computers. I was panicking, anxious and didn't know which way to turn.

The feeling of angst and helplessness I had were akin to the worst days of my life when I had no idea which way to turn. Those were the days I crumbled to the ground, looked upward and whispered, "Help me ..."

It is at those times when things feel like they cannot get any worse that can become the much needed turning point.

Some people pray. I called my Computer Guy.

I told him my story. I warned him it was a long one with many twists and turns. I started to talk. He listened. Then he started to reply. I responded, "But there is more ..." I kept telling my tale. He kept thinking I was at the end of my story. I kept saying, "But there is even more ..." This cycle repeated at least three times. Maybe four.

"Can you help me over the phone? I will pay you for your time. I will do anything." I implored. Unfortunately the damage I had done was more than an amateur troubleshooter like me could handle. This was a job for a professional.

This is the part of the never ending story where the soundtrack changes to a light and hopeful tone. The sun comes out, melts the snow, there is a twinkle in the skies above and up drives my Computer Guy. I'm pretty sure he was wearing a superhero cape.

He called before he arrived so I could put the troubled computer on our doorstep so we adhered to all COVID-19 distancing requirements. I was inside the house, he was outside, we spoke, then he drove off on his white stallion (okay, it was only a car) and the heaviness of the day was lifted off my shoulders.

I turned around, tried reloading the program that started all the trouble on a new program on my own personal computer ...

While it was loading, my online grocery order had enough time on its own to allow me to go back and salvage the many errors of my ways.

The computer program loaded successfully and I was able to complete the mission I had set out to do 24 hours prior.

Twenty four hours. It took one full day. Suddenly my Worst. Day. Ever. turned into the Best Recovery I could have ever hoped for.

Everything that went sour turned on its haunches and turned out okay.

It all works out in the end. If it doesn't work out, it is not yet the end. 

~ slightly paraphrased from The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

I know this "worst day ever" was a walk in the park compared to the realities going on all around us. I know this. Yet I couldn't stop the spiraling anxiousness and feeling of being overwhelmed. 

Yesterday felt like I was a contestant on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. I used all my lifelines. It turns out "calling a friend (aka: a computer professional)" was a game changer for me. 

In these days of isolation, confinement, health, family and financial worries DO use your lifelines. "Calling a friend" may be a game changer for you too.

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.

Fifteen Minutes

I have completely gotten out of the habit of writing. My excuses are varied, multiple and quite lame. No time. No space. No thoughts. Nothing fresh. Nothing inspirational. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Who else feels this way in the depth of winter? The days are getting longer but have also been colder. January is speeding by but spring feels far off and illusive at the same time.

I long for what I don't have. Then I get it and squander it away.

I had holidays over the Christmas season and I let them slip through my fingers. I regretted making plans as soon as they were made and never really got past that. No one's fault but my own. I am accountable for my actions but I wasn't even finished my holiday and I was already longing for my next.

I read a book (two, actually!) this past weekend. One was a biography based on someone who survived and thrived after a stroke. As the story of this journey progressed back to a semblance of "the before", his "executive thinking" was compromised and he was completely content in this state of not planning, not doing and not caring about goals and achievements.

"That's me!!", I thought. My executive thinking powers are waning. When I am on vacation, I relax in the knowledge that it really doesn't matter. It's okay to squander the days because (here come the excuses) I have to work outside my home ten hours of every weekday. Poor me.

I console myself with the thought "whatever I accomplish will be enough". I accomplish very little. I am completely okay with that.

How many holidays would I need in order to find the energy, motivation and desire to do more than nothing?

That is an experiment I'm willing to take! In the meantime, I must (like everyone else in the world) get up, get dressed, get moving and get to work so I can come home, climb into my pajamas and turn off my brain.

This too, shall pass. The goal is to make the best of the winter days that are looming ahead.

Just keep swimming ...

P.S. See why I haven't been writing? 

No Place Like Home

It feels harder and harder to look forward to "getting away from it all". Why in the world would I choose to get away from a place that fills me up and brings me joy? Holidays have become equivalent to the gift of simply being able to stay home. Is it any wonder I don't want to uproot myself and go anywhere?

I had hoped this holiday would be that of a "play it by ear" variety. No plans. Simply pick up and go, if and when the spirit moved me and the opportunity arose.

Then I accepted an invitation. No regrets. As always, I know I will be glad I have followed the path of least resistance. Even though saying "yes" was met with the pulling of some home-bound-heart-strings, I knew "yes" was the right answer.

By the time I post this, I will be home again. I can predict the future. I will be glad I went. I will be feeling the afterglow of some perfectly imperfect memories. At the moment, there is a little bit of angst in the unknown factor of our visit. By the time we return home, all anxieties will be put to rest.

I feel anxious as the entirety of my little family who is home, will be in a car headed in a westward direction to visit family.

As always, I wonder what if we don't make it back home again? Who will take care of our cats? What if the house alarm goes off? What if ... what if ... what if ...

Here I sit, in the moments before we leave home looking forward to the moment when we drive up our street upon our return home. Safe and sound, the house still standing and anxiously awaiting the moment when we see what our cats have been up to in our absence.

Be it ever so humble ... there is no place like home.

I'm Sorry

I apologize for writing of the inane, inconsequential, trivial and little things that fill my mind. Life is hard. When life feels hard, I look inward and try to focus on that which I can control.

I look around me and I see so many lives consumed with loss. Loss of health, loss of life, loss of stability, loss of independence, loss of memory, loss of income, loss of peace of mind, loss of a future life one was anticipating, loss of youth, loss of a parent/child/sibling/partner ... and the list goes on and on.

When the world feels dark and out of control, I hunker down, look inward and do what I can to regain the feeling of "I'm doing the best I can". I look outside for signs of life. Signs of presence of that which I have not seen with my own eyes.

Yes, this comes out in the trivial matters of my posts of late. When life feels like a sad and scary place, it feels good to regain my footing by doing what I can to make sense of the little things gone awry.

The courage to change what I can ...

This may come in the form of learning how to make my bed properly or lodging a complaint over dysfunctional pens. But it also comes in the form of doing my best, doing what is within my control and trying to be who I need to be, to the people who pass through my days.

When the going gets tough, it's hard. I know. But those rabbit tracks I see in the snow in our front yard has proven there is a presence all around me, even when I'm not looking.

Look for your "rabbit tracks". Just do what you can do. It is enough. Just keep swimming ...