It's Already Been Written

I can't count the number of times I find myself searching this blog to discover I've already used a title or find I have already written what I had planned to write. Not necessarily the same stories (though that happens too), but the underlying theme. Same lesson, different circumstances surrounding it.

When I have felt lost, I'll refer to my own writing. It speaks to me in a way nothing else does. Funny how that works, huh? I speak my own language. 

I'll search for a phrase or term that will bring up posts where it's mentioned. It works well when trying to recall the dates I've seen Cher, for example. My "Dear Mom" series or memories of Mom or Dad... I'll fall down rabbit holes of my own doing. 

It's a fun little exercise when I'm searching to find my own answers. This life we live. Same emotions, similar conflict, previous resolutions. We keep cycling around the answers we continue to seek.

I believe our own answers are within us. That is why talking things through with a friend is less about receiving advice and more about hearing your own thoughts outside your head, volleying them back and forth with another human being and one begins to hear their own answer.

Writing has always been therapy for me. Going back and rereading old posts reminds me I'm a fairly good therapist for myself. I've walked the walk before and eventually walked through whatever is plaguing me at the moment.

I keep falling back to the Rules for Being Human I came across decades ago. This says it all:

~ Cherie Carter-Scott, From "If Life is a Game, These are the Rules."

P.S. I fell down another rabbit hole when I tried to find where I had written this before. I searched "life lessons" on my blog, never to find what I was looking for. I found it in a closet. Apparently life lessons is a well documented topic on this little blog of mine. I may go lose myself in my own lessons once again.

Twenty Seven

Twenty seven has forever been a number I considered a good age to be. It sounds like a good age and it was a life-changing year for me. A year of beginning to make good decisions for myself and my family. 

I wrote these words and walked down memory lane for a while, to formulate the rest of what I had in my mind. Apparently I wrote everything I wanted to say before. I will attach those words rather than repeat them.

Today, is my youngest's 27th birthday. This is the last time I will celebrate this milestone year for any of my children. It will not be the last time I think of where my 28th year led.

My children, as individual as snowflakes. Each one's journey vastly different than the other's. 

My youngest has walked a walk I would have never predicted. Her personality has always been quiet and reflective. There is a lot going on underneath the surface. Just because she is quiet natured doesn't mean she doesn't have a lot to say.

It has take a lot of work to get to this age. Life has many more lessons in store. My wish for you, is no matter where life takes you, remember all you have learned along your way. Your foundation is being laid one block at a time. Start from where you are and build the life you most want to live.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life...

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Twenty Seven

Twenty seven always sounded like a good age to me. Twenty seven simply seemed like it was a 'perfect' age. Both in the years that preceded reaching that goal and the (almost) twenty seven years after attaining it.

If someone woke me from a deep, dark coma and asked me how old I was, there is a fairly good chance that my answer would be "twenty seven" because I felt that age for decades. I would be surprised to look at a document that had my age in black and white and it said "forty seven" for all the world (and me) to see. Forty seven?! I would be taken aback for a moment before I realized that the numbers did not correlate with my inner state of aging.

For me, twenty seven was a year of making good decisions. That is not to say it was a great year. It was a tough year. Within a month of turning that magical age, I left my marriage (for the third and final time) and my dad died. Within two months of that same birthday, I moved my family-of-three (me, along with my nine year and four month old sons) to a new province and found a new home, job and daycare.

The drama that unfolded during the first and second month of turning twenty seven was daunting. Ending a marriage can be a volatile time and place. Things got explosive. It got ugly. Hearts and vows were broken, never to be the same again. Sometimes, things have to get worse before they get better. This was one of those times.

It was frightening to start over in a brand new world. I had abandoned a secure and long-time job, friends who knew and supported me, a house that was no longer a home (and a pile of material possessions within it) and my mom and brother. I came to a city where I knew my aunt and uncle (and a handful of cousins who I knew by name only). It was scary and lonely. But it was necessary. That moved changed my life and quite likely saved it at the same time.

During my twenty eighth year, I rebuilt our home. No, I didn't build it from scratch. I built it from within. The collection of donations which furnished our new home became serviceable items to eat, sleep and sit on. My life had been stripped bare and it was so plain to see, all that really mattered were my children. We were tucked away in a safe and quiet oasis of 'starting over'. It was exactly where we needed to be.

That twenty eighth year was the foundation on which everything that followed has been built. It was solid. It was a year of making good decisions. The benefits were yet to be seen and there would be some more rocky times to follow. But the year of being twenty seven was the basis on which I was rebuilt. It will forever go down in my own personal history as being my most life-changing year.

When my Oldest Son turned twenty seven, he was just starting a course which rerouted his life. He learned a trade which enabled him (not only) to pay his own way while he went to school, but it resulted in a job which has provided him the lifestyle to which he has aspired towards (quite likely, ever since my twenty eighth year, when he lost all of his worldly possessions, friends, community and family when I uprooted him from a life which was killing-us-softly). Twenty seven was his turn-around year.

At the same time, my nephew (who turned twenty seven, five months before my son) was taking some of his first steps towards his own personal goal. He was pursuing his career in comedy. He has taken that ball and ran with it. He is my hero. Not due to his success and fame. Simply because he pursued his dream and made brave and bold decisions to keep pursuing it. I would say he has done pretty well (but then again, I am pretty biased). To me, success is in the pursuit of your dreams - not necessarily attaining them. He started to make this choice his reality in his twenty eighth year.

Yesterday was my Middle Son's twenty seventh birthday. He has had some pretty lofty hopes and dreams. He has gone boldly where he has never gone before. Time and time again. Before his twenty eighth year, he started his own company. He gleaned an education from that experience which I challenge any university to rival. There is nothing like Life Experience to teach you things you will never forget. He bought and (with the help and support of His Girlfriend of many, many years) has moved onto their farm. They are building a 'life' quite literally from the ground, up. He has picked himself up and carried on, despite the odds. He  has experienced more in his first twenty six years than a lot experience in a lifetime. Because he is not afraid to try.

My son is heading into his twenty eighth year with a lifetime full of his own experiences. These very experiences which have taught him so much, have also left him a little gun shy. He has made a few adjustments to his life-as-he-knows-it and is also on the precipice of restarting something new (from an old experience).

Even though My Son is in a vastly different place than I was (or his brother or his cousin) as he steps into his twenty eighth year, I have a good feeling about this. Especially as I recall my own twenty eighth year as the foundation on which the rest of my life that followed, was built.

In my humble opinion, age twenty seven is a very good place to start. Happy Foundation Building Year, My Son. I can't wait to watch your year unfold.

Memory Games

Hand writing three, 8 1/2" x 11" morning pages on a daily basis has been an interesting exercise in exorcising my morning meanderings.

I have written almost 400 pages and my desire to go back and reread any of them is nil. The most I may do before I shred them is scan the margins to see how many of the tasks I've written down have been left unattended.

One purpose of these pages is to reveal one's inner creative self. I think I may have used up my creativity years ago, as my pages haven't revealed much beyond the fact that I find my thoughts pretty tedious and boring.

Recently, when the words aren't coming, I have been trying to recall events of my life. Years, dates, events and so on. This morning's thoughts began with wondering how much I remember before I started blogging.

I started listing the people I worked with when I moved here in 1988, names of a group of co-workers from 1990. Then, the sequence of events one life altering day in 2023. Recalling one event led to another, another and another. I used no resource other than my own head, assisted with the ability to write things down as I recalled them. 

These are the games Mom used to play. Testing her memory without assistance of any kind. If she couldn't sleep, she would think of poems from her childhood and a myriad of things to hone her memory skills. I am convinced this mental gymnastics contributed to her sharp thinking and overall brain health. Her memory, combined with her curiosity and desire to learn are tools I think are good for all of us.

As I came up with memories I thought I had forgotten, I even made a comment to Mom in my morning pages. I thought she may be pleased I was taking a page from her book.

Now, I have to hone the skill of hanging onto those memories without writing them down. Mental math is a skill I've lost. 

I'll keep playing my memory games and hope for the best. 

Keeping Cool

This morning, as I stepped into the safe little cocoon that is my life, my first thoughts of the day were gratitude for our cool evenings after hot days. I haven't found the need to turn on the air conditioner yet, thanks to our cool evenings accompanied by a light breeze. I am even more grateful to know I have cool air available at the flick of a switch. Life is good.

I then wandered downstairs and checked the forecast. As I did so, my attention focused on news flashes of the forest fires raging and thousands of evacuees fleeing for safety, with the possible threat of losing their home. It put my world's view into perspective.

Our lives may feel challenging and they are. But in the big picture, when I look at my landscape I feel pretty darned lucky.

As I walk through my day and wonder if there is a practical use for (what feels like) an infinite supply of pinecones, I will remind myself of how fortunate I am to have space to wonder about such a trivial issue.

One morning of picking pinecones out of the rocks netted about 1/3 full trash can's worth of 

"mulch and pest deterrent" material.

I've said it before and I will keep saying it.

My life is good.

Powerless

This morning, the power went off unexpectedly just before 7:00 am. I was in the midst of planning to charge my phone, using up the laptop's battery power before plugging it in when the power waned and waiting for the furnace to kick in at 7:00 am, to take the chill out of the air. 

Then poof! The house was silent. Blissfully silent.

The dehumidifier I had running in the basement? Silence. The bathroom fan? Silent. Nothing. That is when I looked up to discover the clock on the stove was blank. The power was out.

Our power company sent a vague message saying they were looking into the reason behind the outage and crews were on the job, looking after the situation.

When after an hour, the power was still out, I started running through worst case scenarios. My phone could be charged in the car. If I didn't open the fridge door unnecessarily, the fridge/freezer would remain cold for as long as possible. 

Meanwhile, I was honing in on comparing a power outage to an all-out-communication outage. We have had a few recent outages that affected phones, internet, cable and cell phones. While I felt completely alone in my inability to reach out or be reached in any fashion, I uttered aloud, "At least we still have power. At least we still have power".

It was bright outside and the need for powered lighting was almost nil. Leave the bathroom door open and all is well. Water was functioning, I could have a bath, use the "facilities" and receive messages from the outside world.

All was well enough.

I opened my latest (and last) assembly-required cabinet for the closet in the Daybed Room, ensured all the parts and pieces were there and went about my day like I didn't need power.

The power was restored after an hour and a half. Just a blip in time. Life went on seamlessly without the assistance of a power source. I received a few messages from the outside world during the outage. I was not alone.

We are beyond fortunate with all of our conveniences of life. 

Paying a water bill is a privilege. We have have clean, running water and sewer system we completely take that for granted. There are many who do not have this luxury. Even within our own country.

Heat and power are two more luxuries of life we have on tap. Turn on a switch, turn up a thermostat, turn on the air conditioner, charge our various gadgets that keep us feeling connected and enjoy the ease with which we heat, cool and store our food.

Add to that, the various ways we keep our lines of communication open. Much of which is reliant on satellites and wireless connections. 

I miss the days when we all had a hard wired phone that was attached to a wall, not reliant on power or satellite connections. Yes, this could malfunction just as easily if the wire was cut. But there is something grounding in knowing there is a grounded connection.

I appreciate life's little wake up calls. There could be many, who slept right through this moment of powerlessness. Others who may have not had their morning coffee brewed before the the lights went out. 

Me? I simply wished I had charged my phone when I thought of it first thing this morning. Then began counting the many ways in which I was just plain lucky.

When one feels powerless, the best resource we have is to focus on that which we still have power over. Our thoughts, back-up plans and the mere simplicity of having most everything we need at our fingertips. 

Power or no power, I am simply thankful for that which stays the same. With or without the conveniences which make living a life pretty simple.

Thank you.

Back-up-plan #1

A functional and bright battery powered light

(including brand new batteries)

Back-up Plan #2

I'm feeling a little more in control now that I'm 88% charged

(and 21 minutes away from a full charge)

One Step at a Time

My long-awaited, ready-to-build cabinet was delivered yesterday. Lucky for me, it was my day off so I was home to receive it and build it. All in one day. No procrastination, no time to feel overwhelmed. I just did it.

The first thing working in my cabinet's favor was it was too heavy for me to get it upstairs. I tried. It had to go upstairs in pieces. As I emptied the box, I checked to ensure all 37 pieces plus hardware were all there. They were. 

I looked at the daunting 15-step-process to build the cabinet, with the parts and pieces all accounted for, organized on the bedroom floor. No words. Simply diagrams. I thought "one step at a time", I will take it one step at a time and I will be further along than I am at this moment.

I hit a snag when I couldn't figure out how to separate the drawer rails by the pictures alone. I searched the Internet for assistance. All I found was an online version of the instruction manual I already had. I enlarged the diagram to look for more clues. Then I took a break.

After my break, I broke the code. The pieces came apart in my hands and I had no idea exactly what I had done. Eventually I got a few more apart. Thankfully I had 10 opportunities to figure out what I was doing and how I was doing it. I thought this could be important information when it came time to reuniting these pieces.

I carried on. One more step at a time. I was nearing the end when I couldn't get the bottom piece on properly. I was this close:

Time for another break.

Eventually I got the bottom piece securely fastened and closed the gaps that had been present before.

 

Ta da!!!

Mission accomplished. Nothing else of value was accomplished with the day but I did it. One step at a time.

As it is with the challenges we meet in life, ONE step at a time is a good direction to take. One forward step takes you one step further than you were before.

Investments

I listened to my sister speak to her young, adult granddaughter as we drove home from our sibling weekend a few weeks ago. The tone of her voice, her words, the ease of the conversation and her reassurance as my sister spoke to her granddaughter. All I could think was the investment my sisters have made with all of their grandchildren is unmistakably the best investment one could make in this time of great uncertainty.

I have watched and listened to my sisters as they have been there for their children and grandchildren. Their availability to "be there" in whatever capacity was required, traditions and family occasions when all the family gathered so the sense of family was established and reestablished throughout the entirety of their lives, attending whatever events their grandchildren participated in. 

I have had the advantage of being about a decade behind my sisters and have heard them speak of "coming events" as the years advance. The years that separate us have all but disappeared over the course of our lives but I still look to them and learn.

Investing in family is a good way to go. I've still got a lot to learn.

Inspired

I am attempting to make it a habit to inhale new thoughts, ideas and inspiration into my mornings. 

I love mornings when I don't have to be out the door at a certain time because it gives me the opportunity to be still within my cozy little abode, keep the curtains closed, lighting low and watch while I listen as if I am having a personal home theatre experience.

This morning was such a morning. I found a comfortable place to sit with Tom Hanks and Jay Shetty as Tom shared his thoughts, words, experience and perspective on life in a way that made me stand sit up and take notice.

If you have an hour and forty three minutes of uninterupted time, I highly recommend tuning out the world and tuning into this conversation.

My desire to savor solitude was reinforced. I was reminded that the quietest of times within my life were when seeds of change were planted. I was transported to the importance of the five hour drive back "home" to visit with Mom.  

I love that this conversation made me curious to learn more about Martin Luther King, World Wars, solar eclipses and the handing over of power from George Washington to John Adams (the first time in recorded history when there was a peaceful transfer of power without an heir inheriting the leadership).

This conversation fueled my thoughts and made me think. 

Tom's quotes, "This too shall pass" "And more will be revealed" "Our best days are yet to come" resonated with me.

I was ready to rewatch this interview the moment it ended. It was time well spent.

Supporting my neck has become my biggest challenge recently. I have a comfy looking couch which was not built for watching TV, but this 26 year old rocking chair seems to work for 1 hour and 43 minutes...

Happier

I stumbled upon Oprah and Arthur Brooks book "Build the Life You Want" yesterday and immersed myself in the three part YouTube discussion between Oprah and Arthur on their book. 

I rarely buy a book these days, much preferring to borrow from our local library. But this was an exception. I have a feeling this could be one of those books I want to share with the world around me. It feels as though it could be a reference guide to "happierness" - a word Oprah coined and Arthur concurred it described the concept best.

The quest for happiness is elusive and one never attains the goal and keeps it. Life ebbs and flows. We can't be happy all of the time but we can hope to feel happier. 

It is a book about the art and science of getting happier. Arthur is a professor who teaches a class on the subject. He speaks in a language I feel my most discerning child would hear. 

The conversation spoke to everything I am feeling and living these days. I have already suggested watching it together with my daughter, as it seems like this could be a good reference for her. And she did not shoot down the idea. 

I have hope. Renewed hope that the science of becoming happier may be the fork in the road most needed right now. 

Wishing and hoping for a hopeful, happier New Year to all! 

Our world could use a dose of  happierness...

Tiny Habits

It is pure coincidence I have found the desire to write out loud on the day of New Year's Eve. It is even more coincidental I want to write about habits. 

First off, I have recognized an ache within myself I've been filling with food, Netflix, purging on TV series, scrolling, inactivity and simply not being as productive as I am capable of being. 

I have developed an unhealthy relationship with food, TV, cell phone and the ache I feel for isolation. I know I can't solve everything at once but I can tell the essence of "me" is ready to receive direction towards a better way.

I came upon this blog post "Tiny Habits" (bemorewithless.com) many days ago. It spoke to me in a way few things have penetrated my thoughts lately. I scribbled down a few points on a scrap of paper:

• change morning routine - write; read &/or breathe deeply (meditate??)
• movement breaks - every 1 - 2 hours
• gratitude journal
• read
• tackle one decluttering task for 15 minutes
• walk after meals
• ONE line a day journal

This sounds so simple, I thought I should start all of the goals immediately. Then decided otherwise, as I would prefer to add one new habit at a time. So I moved the scrap of paper around daily and changed nothing, other than "drinking more water" (the one new habit I've been diligently maintaining, which is making the "bathroom movement breaks" goal very attainable).  

If I do nothing else, it is my hope to incorporate gratitude and ONE line-a-day that made an impact on me, onto this blog so I can attempt to get back into the habit of writing.

I have missed finding my own answers as I let my fingers fly over the keyboard and write the words that are swimming around aimlessly in my head and make sense of them as they formulate a blog post. I start writing and allow distractions into the room and lose my way. 

I have made myself a sandwich; took a picture and emailed it to myself; responded to a text message; washed this morning's coffee cup and arranged all the ingredients I need to make hamburger soup on the counter after I wrote down the bullet points I hoped to write about this morning.

Distraction is high on the list of habits I want to change as I feel the yearning inside of me to do better, be better and live better than I have been.

I'm not going to make specific goals. I want to alter my habits. Rome wasn't built in a day. ONE step at a time. I can do better. I want to change one bad habit at a time.

Today's challenge? Paint the inside of the cupboard under the sink. I have readied the area and opened the cupboard so the cats can investigate to their heart's content before there is wet paint to contend with.

My intention is set. And I've added a hearty, homemade soup to my agenda to appease my insatiable appetite. I want to curb my appetite with nutritious food - not the McDonald's meal I am truly craving. 

Junk food satisfies a craving. Nutritious food satisfies a body's needs and lasts longer (if one doesn't eat 5 cookies in quick succession after eating a meal). Pause. Let my brain realize my stomach is full before purging on sugar for (yet another) quick fix. 

ONE step at a time. One step in a forward direction. 

Today's Goal

Update (2 hours later):

 

I achieved what I set out to do. Done!

I am now off to watch Oprah talk about how to "Build the Life You Want".

This is NOT the end.

Rabbit-Palooza!

I finally found out where the rabbits have gone. They have moved onto greener pastures north of where I've been searching. They were everywhere!

I spotted one. Then two more. Then four were together. I kept walking. I kept spotting groups of rabbits. A friendly walker noticed me snapping a picture. She told me she had spotted at least 25 rabbits in this park but there were more rabbits in other parks.

I stayed on the walking path and kept spotting rabbits. I ran out of path so I took the city sidewalk and circled around and took the southern most part of a different path in the same park. At one point, I saw ten rabbits in a group with a few more in the periphery. 

I was in rabbit heaven.

I stayed on the walking path and the rabbits thinned out. But they were still there. I walked to the end of the path and wasn't entirely sure of the fastest way home, as I ended up in a residential area full of crescents, coves, courts and roads to no where. 

Even as I neared home, I spotted three more rabbits in the school playground I used to frequent regularly with my daycare family.

The day feels blessed by rabbits. No woo-woo feelings about the why of it all. I simply took a new path.

Sometimes it is as simple as that. We need to go new places to see new sights, feel new feelings and remember there is more than one road that takes us back home.

Math Nerd

 It is a very good feeling to wake up early on a Saturday morning. What is most surprising to me is that I would actually opt to continue working today if I didn't have other plans. 

My work week ended on a good note (two uninterrupted work days resulted in two days tending math puzzles and spreadsheets which are my idea of fun). I actually have the desire to open my office door and carry on with my little math projects this morning (how does one define "nerd"?).

I tackled hard things within my home office setting this week and tamed the demons I knew were waiting for me bright and early Monday morning. There is nothing like slaying dragons to boost your adrenaline and enhance one's confidence level.

Oh, how those untamed dragons can deplete us. To run and hide from them takes an onerous amount of energy. To armor up, plan one's defense and take forward action? Exhilarating!

Numbers and me go back to my humble beginnings. I can picture Dad sitting at the kitchen table 'figgering' on paper and with his trusty little Arithma calculator ...

What I wouldn't give, to sit across that very kitchen table and talk with Dad again. "Whatcha figgerin', Dad?"

I feel a little less nerdy and a little more connected to myself and my genealogy when I remember Dad and his business sense. When I went through Mom's papers after she died, I found oh-so-many of Dad's calculations. His writing. His numbers. His thoroughness (I have the ledgers where he accounted for every penny spent, down to the cost of screws, for his farming deductions). I couldn't keep everything but I kept some.

I liked math in school. It made sense. Once you knew the basics and added layers of information onto that, it was relatively simple stuff. Black and white. Balance to zero. Checks and balances. Something I am always looking for within this little life of mine when I feel like I am on shaky ground.

If I hadn't gotten married and had a child as soon as I left home, I most likely would have chosen to pursue an education in accounting. What happened instead, is I became a bank teller and my career fell into my lap in the way it was intended.

Accounting and accountants without the personal touch of customer contact, face-to-face encounters and getting to know the story behind the numbers is not me. I didn't know this when I was 18 years old and entering the world of banking. I was shy and awkward. Customer contact was a skill I had to learn along the way.

My Grade Two teacher's comment in our school year book said simply, "Shy, except when she reads." Who knew this would translate into "Socially awkward, except when she works with numbers.", in my adulthood?

In my unwritten book "Defending My Life", I will defend my career path as the perfect fit for me. A mix of numbers and face-to-face interaction with customers taught me everything I needed to know. It was the foundation on which the rest of my working life was built.

A life of numbers without the personal touch isn't for me. Yes, you could lock me in a room with an Excel spreadsheet program and math puzzles to solve and I would be happy. But at the end of the day, I need my people.

No regrets. 

When you look back on your life, can you find the basis on which you built your "today"? Can you find solace in the choices made, which brought you to where you are? 

Even when the road is uncertain and one hits a few dead ends along the way, every detour has brought us to where we are right now. May you find comfort in knowing you are exactly where you are meant to be. Even when where you are isn't where you want to stay.

Writing Revisited

I'm back to my regularly scheduled writing after a short break from writing-off-the-cuff. My most recent posts were written almost a year ago. I wrote the words, walked away and gave them time and distance. The words passed the test of time, then revisions and the go-ahead to post them by the person who inspired the thoughts.

"It's not my story to tell" are words I hold onto when sitting down to write. Thus? I have been writing an awful lot about robins and rabbits lately. No confidentiality breach. And should these critters have the ability to understand, I didn't write anything I wouldn't say in front of them (another "rule" I do my best to uphold).

Our lives interact with so very many others. What we see and take from a situation can vary vastly from what the only other person in the room gleans from the same interaction. I've been part of situations I barely recognize when the other person retells their version of the story. There can be a wide variance between each person's takeaway when people recall the same incident.

When I replay unpleasant interactions in my mind and try to make sense of how things went so terribly wrong, I do my best to try and see things from the other person's point of view. It calms me when I consider where the other party is coming from.

I can still see the expression on Mom's face and the sting in her words when I would make a comment about her, in front of her. She made no bones about the fact that she did not appreciate anyone else's interpretation on how she was feeling or about something concerning her. "Oh I do, do I?" was the essence of what I remember about those interactions.

It was in and around that time when I put the brakes on writing about anything that was not my story to tell. Since then, there have been countless times when I've walked through new and uncomfortable situations involving other people's stories. Confidentiality is everything. I questioned the wisdom of writing out loud, then simply stopped writing. Period.

As I wrote these words, they felt familiar. I searched my own blog to find exactly what I was trying to say. I wrote this six months ago:

"My story is how I navigated my side of other people's stories. If I write about my journey, not theirs ... to tell a story without telling ALL ... I think that is the key. My side of the story. Learning as I go. Love and loss and parenting and change and acceptance and curiosity ... and the never ending goal of seeking JOY."

The path I have walked has been mine alone but the other side of the story is still a privacy I want to respect. There have been lessons learned, perspectives gained, a broader understanding and a lot of learning. 

Life teaches us everything we need to learn and so much more than we want to learn, as we make our way through one life-event to the next. It has always been my goal to tell a little story and wind it up with a life lesson. Sometimes I succeed. Other times? I just need to write about rabbits. 

It's Not My Story to Tell

After almost three months of blogging silence, two months of writing morning pages and years of censoring my thoughts and words, the title of this blog post was born.

"Don't air your dirty laundry"; "Be careful what you put in writing"; "Don't give up your guts" are a few of the spoken and implied mantras I grew up with. I worked in the banking industry for decades where confidentiality was a part of my job description at the time and I have carried that forward into my present occupation. I hold confidences and try my best not to betray trust that has been bestowed upon me. 

In the past, I could pull the lesson from what life had in store. Something evolved over the course of time and the words, "It's not my story to tell" became my guiding light. 

I have tamped down my words, thoughts, emotions and reactions as I navigated this time of great withholding. It was this morning when the words came to me (at the end of my third page of morning writing). "My story is how I navigated my side of other people's stories. If I write about my journey, not theirs ... to tell a story without telling ALL ... I think that is the key. My side of the story. Learning as I go. Love and loss and parenting and change and acceptance and curiosity ... and the never ending goal of seeking JOY."

The path I have walked has been mine alone but the other side of the story is still a privacy I want to respect. There have been lessons learned, perspectives gained, a broader understanding and a lot of learning. 

"You need to write from a scar, not an open wound"

 ~ Glennon Doyle wrote this, but I'm unsure who gets credit for the origin of the quote

It is time. Wounds have healed. I'm writing from the right place. 

(the challenge will be to make time to write again)

Hidden Benefits

I have accidentally locked one of our cats in our den on more than one occasion. One would think one would learn their lesson after doing so. Twice. One would be wrong.

The scene of the crime:

The aforementioned cat was sitting on a chair in the den prior to my closing the door. When the mere act of vacuuming the room in close proximity to the cat didn't make him budge, I proceeded to vacuum the chair he was resting on. 

The cat moved, I vacuumed the chairs, then proceeded to close the door behind me. The cat guilty of hiding out under the couch while I did a visual check before closing the door was safely outside the room.

Then I left the house. For the weekend.

Did I mention we have two cats? We do. It was the second cat who somehow got locked in the den. For two days.

There were some minor demeanors of a cat in need of a litter box, but all in all the cat escaped relatively unscathed from the event.

The only victim was a huge box full of papers to be shredded. The box top was folded shut so the "liquid" did not infiltrate the entire box but it did necessitate cutting off the box flaps and initiated the process of shredding the first layer of papers-to-be-shredded.

One day at a time, one layer at a time, the cat-locked-in-the-den-incident has nudged me into action. This box of shredding WILL be dealt with. After months of procrastination, one ill fated weekend with a cat has forced me into action.

Our cat may require therapy to get over the emotional scars (in reality, he seems to be rolling with the aftermath rather well and had in fact dominated the couch in "his" den after the ordeal), but I am grateful for the much needed push to do what should have been done long ago.

The Gift of Independence

Our independence is something we tend to take for granted while we have it.

When we wake up each morning and know we can make our way through the day ahead of us with a laundry list of mundane tasks we can do without thinking, we are fortunate.

When we have the ability to get out of bed with ease and our bodies do what we have come to expect them to do, we are blessed.

When we can remember what happened a few minutes or hours ago, we are rich beyond our wildest dreams.

When life unfolds in a relatively expected manner day after day, we are living the good life.

Mom's fierce determination to live an independent life was hard fought and she won the battle. Mom lived in her own home until her final days.

We were so fortunate Mom's determined self sufficiency worked out the way she hoped and persevered to make happen.

I hear Mom's words within my thoughts a lot these days. She knew. She knew ...

Mom? I hear you. I hope the next roads I follow within this little life of mine lead me to become as strong and determined as you always were.

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.

One New Thing

I have just finished watching the Minimalist's new Netflix documentary "Less is Now".

In the spirit of "minimalism", I will add no more other than this documentary spoke to me. It may speak to someone else. It may not.

I will endeavor to post "that which brings me joy" or inspiration or food for thought here for a while. We are all navigating the ongoing pandemic in our own unique way. I have been seeking joy. In the small things.

Here is "one new thing" to add to my un-blogged little things that make me think.

The question is: What will be the catalyst to make me ACT?

I Keep Waiting For This Announcement:

Ever since the reality of a global pandemic infiltrated my safe little world, there has been a surreal sensation of "this feels like an experiment of human nature".

• How do humans react when faced with scarcity?
• How do humans respond to isolation? fear? the unknown?
• How does a global condition unite and divide humankind?
• How does an unknown timeline affect this condition?
• How will world leaders react?
• With global uncertainty at the core of all news, how will people manage the layers of other world events on top of this uncertainty?
• When all of the above becomes "the norm", how will humans manage on a day-to-day basis?
• Will the human condition change after the crisis is over?

As I tentatively move from one day to the next and seven months later, we are still navigating the unknown on a day to day basis, I keep waiting for this announcement:

Emergency Broadcast System Test (1983)

"This concludes the test of the Emergency Broadcast System" 

Wouldn't it be nice?

Use What Life Hands You

When life hands you a box, hop in and try it out for size.

It may be a little small, it may not feel quite right but don't be afraid to check it out.

Some of the best things in life are sitting right in front of us. 

Use whatever life hands you.

You never know - what you are looking for may be closer than you think.