Morning Diversions

I messed with my usual routine this morning. I took advantage of the lack of wind in the early morning hours to spray weeds. That small onerous task threw me off my groove.

I fought with the weed sprayer but got the job done-enough. I don't know if the weed sprayer won the battle or if I did. I think it was a draw. 

I came inside, determined to scrub the chemicals off my hands when I caught sight of my freshly washed hair in the mirror. The morning humidity added a frizz and kink to my previously good-enough hair. Rats! "This!!" is why I don't walk in the morning.

An hour had been lost so I thought I'd skip my morning pages and go straight to blogging. I had reverted yesterday morning's blog to a draft because it needed some editing. I thought it would be a quick and easy post. Nope. Yesterday's thoughts were too complicated.

I needed to hand-write my three, 8-1/2" X 11" morning pages to filter the verbiage of the day-in-progress. I'm glad I did. I'm still no great shakes in the word department but my fingers are flying over the keyboard and I feel like I used to feel when I wrote. Energized and a little inspired.

Changing one part of my morning routine woke something up inside of me. Today. Being outside first thing in the morning is a good thing. Maybe that is worth considering.

The very first thing I did upon waking was open the upstairs hallway window. At the precise moment I opened the window, a mourning dove flew up and sat on the roof right beside the window. It stayed there until I ruined the moment and tried to take its picture:

Mourning dove wing in flight

It flew to the garage roof top to avoid a close up

Lesson #1 - stop and enjoy the moment before jumping straight into the day

Lesson #2 - don't waste the moment by taking a picture 

In Lieu of a Cigarette...

Further to my post yesterday, when I thought I should take up smoking to force me to be still outside and simply take a nature break, I savored my second cup of coffee outside this morning.

It was already hot, so I found a shady spot and let my legs spill out into the sunlight. A robin was chirping and encouraging me to come out and play. It was a very convincing song. I enjoyed every note. 

I sat still. I listened. I watched the birds (mostly sparrows, I think) disappear into our lawn. I spotted a bird using the bird house. I wondered what it must be like to be a bird. I have lived a lifetime of living pay cheque to pay cheque. How different is it to be a bird who lives from meal to meal, with seasonal nesting requirements and keeping safe from danger EVERY day of the year? 

I scanned the blue sky to find a jet stream in the distance. Where had that plane been? Where was it going? Who was on board? Were they travelling for business? Pleasure? A family emergency? So many stories within that little speck in the sky.

I was grateful for our maintained lawn. Several weeks of a disabled lawnmower helped me appreciate the much dreaded task of tending to a lawn during the spring growing season. The lawn needs a fresh cut again, but the dandelions have been tamed and we have a lawnmower that will tend to the task. Oh, how fortunate we are!

Mom's wind chime was still. I gazed at it, remembering times when I felt that chime speak to me on a windless day. I willed it to speak to me this morning but it didn't have anything to say.

Thoughts of Mom and Dad, of those who no longer walk on this earth and recent conversations I have listened to that spoke to the fact of how one lives on after they stop breathing. Without getting all spiritual or whimsical, there is an undeniable truth to those words. I feel Mom's essence within me all the time. I speak and I hear her words come out of my mouth. I hear Dad's wisdom chime in when it comes to that which he taught me or conversations we had. I think of those who are alive and well, and the way they live within me when they are out of sight. Chance encounters with strangers that make a lasting impression. 

I was sitting outside by myself. But I was not alone. 

Breathing in the moment without distraction was the best gift we can give ourselves. Take some time to deeply inhale today. Exhale and do your best to let go of the toxins within. It can't hurt and maybe, just maybe it will help just a bit.

20 seconds of "Morning Bliss"

The Bonus Hour

The bonus hour I gained by getting up an hour early yesterday had a ripple effect throughout the day. Perhaps other factors helped enhance my productivity but I believe the hour tacked onto the beginning of the day had the greatest impact.

I'm "this close" to meeting my March 31st deadlines. Personal income taxes and GST are due April 30th. Corporate taxes are due June 30th. Then GST is due again July 31st. I'm going to start telling people I work for Revenue Canada - literally and figuratively. They are the boss of me. It seems I'm always scrambling to meet one of their deadlines and as a reward, I have a nice little sum I owe them when I file my own taxes. I work for them, yet I pay them. Something is terribly wrong here.

All whining aside, it feels good to conquer those hard things. In retrospect, the hardest part of the job is the procrastination, strategizing and figuring out my first move. Once started, the finish line is so much easier to see.

As soon as the dust clears from meeting the next set of deadlines, I should tame the beast that is my office. Piles of paper are everywhere. Unfinished tasks galore. 

It is my hope that as the weight of my bookkeeping world lifts, it will make room for me to add a dose of "living" to my life. Leaving the house. Outside contact with the world. Extending invitations. Even scarier - accepting invitations. The hard things don't end in my office. They are everywhere.

One forward step at a time. One forward step.

Up Before the Sun

I used to pride myself on being an early riser. I've slipped. 6:30 feels like a much saner time to get up and it works in all ways except ... the loss of those early morning hours I love so much.

The hours when it feels like no one else in the world is awake. Any time after 7 am feels like it is fair game for the world to intrude. The moment that feeling arises, something inside of me changes and I slip into a different mindset.

The sun is rising earlier these days and it feels good to be awake before the daylight starts to creep into the day.

I'm sitting in the dark, with a hot cup of coffee and I just kicked the cat out of the room. I. am. alone. (and it feels so good)

It is unfortunate the biggest incentive to get up earlier this morning is (are) a looming deadline(s) in my bookkeeping world. I feel like Mr. Incredible at the beginning of the movie "The Incredibles", as he decides to intercept a car chase, rescue a cat from a tree and nab a purse snatcher on the way to his wedding, while looking at the time and uttering, "I still have time..."

Time is running out and the sun is going to wake up soon. I'm running out of time.

Cheating Myself

I love mornings. The time of day before the rest of the world wakes up. Everything I do is by choice because nothing is expected of me in those pre-workday hours. I revel in the quiet. That space is near and dear to me. Yet when I started slipping down the slippery slope of woe-is-me-ness lately, I see now, the first thing I abandoned was my precious morning time.

I turned on the repetitive loop of my Netflix favorites which lulled me back to sleep. Over and over again, until I could sleep no more. When I finally got out of bed, I felt the weight of the day on my shoulders which made it oh-so-hard to move. So I would turn on the computer or TV or any form of electronic diversion so I didn't have to think my thoughts. Doing the "hard things" that constitute my morning felt so very hard.

It isn't rocket science, but I finally figured out this small piece of the puzzle may be a good place to begin. Again.

I started getting out of bed by 5:00 a.m. or shortly thereafter. I would not allow myself to turn on my Netflix sleeping pill if the show would end after 5:00 a.m. If I woke up before that time, too bad, so sad. I would have to either fall back to sleep (if I was tired), lay there thinking my thoughts (if I didn't feel like getting out of bed) or simply get up. This was easier to accomplish than I imagined it would be.

The gains are so very well worth the loss of those two morning hours that I can never get back.

I expect little to nothing of myself in those bonus hours. By taking the burden of expectation off my shoulders I find myself puttering away at those little "hard things", to get them done and over with before the day expects something of me. Every little thing I cross off my small to-do-list makes every step forward easier.

I have not yet started writing to purge my thoughts before I start censoring myself, as Julia Cameron suggests in The Artist's Way (three handwritten pages as soon upon waking as one can manage). I don't enjoy listening to my uncensored self. I tend to be whiny, self absorbed, nit-picky, repetitive and weigh myself down with should-do's-that-rarely-get-done. Those morning pages may be cathartic but they haven't worked their magic with me. Yet.

Instead, I like to insert a little outside input (blogs &/or podcasts) into my thoughts and let that brew. I like to do a few mind exercises (word and number puzzles) and see if there are any morsels of insight that may trickle out my fingertips here. It's my personal formula, subject to change but it seems to be working. At least for now.

I love finding a podcast that speaks directly to me. More often than not, Glennon Doyle's "We Can Do Hard Things" podcast is a positive interaction (among Glennon, her sister Amanda and wife Abby) that fits the bill. The topics are thought provoking, their interaction is light and humorous and (very often) hits close to home.

I have so many Glennonisms that are my go-to-quotes and stories when I'm trying to find my way. When I speak, I often preface my sentence with "As Glennon says ...". In fact when my daughter was quoting one of my often repeated mantras to someone, she later asked "Was it Glennon or you who came up with that?"

The lower I feel, the less I can absorb. It is akin to too much rain falling on dry land. Nothing is absorbed. I'm flooded with that which should nourish my soul but nothing is seeping through the cracks. 

When I start my day early, there is enough of the dew from overnight to soften the soil which leaves a little more room to absorb the nourishment that comes from a morning shower of positive input.

When you know what works for YOU, do not deny yourself. Take back a little of what you know works, sit back and see if you can feel a difference.