Letter to Myself - Written Nine Years Ago

I stumbled across this post written almost nine years ago. I was going through one of my regularly scheduled depressive modes. Now that the age of 65 is creeping up on me, it is nice to look back on yesteryear and see how far I have come along. Yet there is still so far to go... 

SATURDAY, JUNE 4, 2016

Letter to Self (from a Sixty Year Old Me)

Dear Fifty Five Year Old You,

I am writing this letter to you four and a half years in advance of you turning sixty years old. I am writing it to you this morning because I'm a little disgusted and disappointed in "55 Year Old You" and I think you need a good talking to. This may not be pretty. You have been warned.

I am very disappointed in you lately. If I didn't know who you were and where you have been, I would call you a "quitter". Heavens, I can't even call you a quitter because lately you have been too afraid, paralyzed &/or lazy to even start anything.

I know, I know. Once you start, you feel committed. Once you feel committed to something, you start beating yourself up. Relentlessly. You think you can't start something because you don't have a whole big chunk of time to devote to the job. So you don't start anything.

This has got to end. You know that. You know the answer is to simply take small bites out of big jobs and whittle away at them. You know this! Why aren't you acting on it? I know, I know!  You are tired. Your daycare days are long. Your weekends are short. How can you do "big things" when you have so little left over at the end of the day?

If you keep this up, by the time you hit the age of sixty you will want to abandon this ship and this home you have created because there is always "too much to do". Isn't this home everything you ever wanted? Hasn't this house enabled you to work from home and adapted to whatever you wanted it to do for you? Hasn't the ability to pay "interest only" on your mortgage allowed you to pay your bills, live a comfortable life and given you more financial freedom than renting an apartment could ever afford you?

This house is so much more than a roof over your head. It sustains you. It shelters you from the harsh elements of life in so many ways more than the weather. Respect it, take care of it, pamper it a little from time to time and it will continue to be there for you. And please, please, please try to pay it off!

Speaking of houses, I have no idea why I started this rant about "where you are" and "where I want you to go" with the house. I should have started with this body that is going to carry us from Point A to Point B. If I think you've let the house that shelters us go to pot, what in the world do you think I think about the way you are treating our body? How in the world is this vessel going to weather stormy weather if you don't smarten up and take better care of it?

As it is with the house, it is with our body. Start small. Rome wasn't built in a day. Fifteen minutes isn't long. Start there. Fifteen minutes of extra curricular movement. Yes, I know you think your daycare life is keeping you from turning to stone. But it isn't challenging you. You need to stretch and move and lift and get your heart pumping faster. You know this. But you aren't doing anything about it.

Start with an early morning walk. Rain or shine or sleet or hail. Walk. Just walk! Remember how awesome you felt when you took on those early morning paper routes? Walking the streets of your neighborhood while "the world" slept? You marvelled at the Northern lights, the glistening snow, the sounds of silence and nature. You thought. The words flowed in and out and through you. You came home revitalized, energized and motivated. You loved that time. Skip the paper route, take on the walks. Start there. Add and change things up as you go along. But you must BEGIN. You must. Your life depends upon it.

While I'm at it, you must nourish yourself with good food. What you feed your body fuels your brain and your brain is acting starved lately. Give it some good, solid fuel to work with and you may be amazed that your ability to think, act decisively and "do hard things". This is half the work you thought it was when you were spending your life binge watching the Gilmore Girls on the couch, with a can of Pringles at your side. Replace the Pringles with almonds. Make good meals and you may be amazed that you may fuel the appetite of others. "If you make it they will come."

I've sat back and watched you wither yourself away into a shadow of who you are capable of being. You do not have to do great things at all times but you do need to follow your passions. When you deny yourself the ability to dream big and chase a few of those dreams you become small and your world becomes smaller. You know your world is shrinking. You think you like this feeling right now. I want you to look outside of your smallness and do uncomfortable things again. Invite people into your life.

You need to look out the window and let the world inside. You are lonely and you don't even know it. You think you don't have enough of yourself to spread out any thinner than you already are. You have been here before and you will be here again. Writing is where it is at for you. If you are too tired, too fearful and too stuck in your ruts, WRITE! Send emails, letters, cards and write little notes to those who have made an impact. Write! Write! Write! This is the way out of your small world. It is a beginning.

Judging by the dreams you have been having lately, you are feeling very aware of Mom's mortality. In some ways, you feel like you are "channelling Mom" in the ways you have slowed yourself down, felt overly attached to this house and subconsciously made your world such a small one. I think you are trying to understand exactly what she is feeling by mirroring her world within your own. STOP IT! Stop it right now!! Instead, focus on "who Mom was" when she was the age you are at right now.

When Mom was this age, she was faced with her new reality after Dad's heart attack. He never came home again. I think of Mom when she was going through that time and she was strong. She simply kept taking the next forward step during a time where she must have felt completely in limbo. We marvelled at how young Mom was at age 65 and all the memories her grandchildren had of their very untypical grandma. Yes, Mom was (and still is) a force to be reckoned with. Her family and her home were (and still are) everything to her. Yes, she has slowed down. Yes, her body is starting to wear out. No, she will not live forever. That scares you, doesn't it? Ya, me too.

We don't know what life is going to hand us in between "now" and "five years from now". You simply cannot spend your time focused on that uncertainty. Take the lessons you learned from "loving André" and pay them forward.

• SAVOR THE MOMENT. Always. 
• Make memories, document them. Take pictures, but write. ALWAYS WRITE!
• Let your love shine. Your actions speak louder than words. ACT LOVINGLY.
• Let others know how you feel. SPREAD THE POSITIVE. One positive word goes a long way. 
• You will never regret what you have done. DO ALL YOU ARE CAPABLE OF DOING.

You know where your passions lie. For you, it is writing. Write for yourself. Share what is worth sharing. Just keep writing.

You are at a crossroads right now. Your children are adults and on their way. Some are further down the road than others but never forget how you feel towards your own Mom because that feeling is one you want to nurture with  your own children. We have a good, solid foundation. Just keep building.

You have some amazing friendships and relationships within your world. Don't neglect them. Even when you think you don't have time, you can always make time to send off a note or card or email. Keep those connections alive. They nourish and sustain you.

Take a chance. One chance at a time. You have become a shell of who you used to be. You know it. You are disappointed in yourself right now but this is not the end of your story. Even though (at the moment) you wouldn't care if it was.

Yes, you are tired. You are tired because you are not involved in creating your own story. You are sitting dormant, waiting for life to happen. When "life happens" it is like a slap on the face. You react. You feel indignant. You recoil then rebound. You always rebound. How about not waiting for a "slap in the face" this time? You have the power to live life out loud without being slapped into it.

Feed your body, mind and soul with fresh air, good food and positive input.
Walk. START by walking.
Write. Never stop writing. It is where you find your answers, your inspiration and your dreams.
Love. Open your heart up and take a chance again.

I want to read these words in four and a half years and say "YES! YES!! and YES!!!". I did it. I made changes. I pushed myself out of that rut and into a new and improved one. Most of all I want you to believe "Life does go on regardless of how you live it. Live it well!"

See you in the future my weary friend. You have everything you need inside of you. And if it isn't inside of you, it is here within your home, your heart and those who touch your world. Stay connected, my friend. Stop, look, listen with your heart. You will find your way. You aren't lost. You just haven't found the right highway yet.

You will find your Field of Dreams, my friend. "If you build it, they will come" ...

To be continued.

Habits

It is so easy to fall back into old habits. Some habits are worth falling back into. Others? Sometimes it would be nice to replace a habit that is no longer serving you best with something better.

I thought getting up earlier was my answer. It was. For the first week. Then I became accustomed to those bonus hours and filled them up with things that felt like work. My bonus time became my new norm and I utilized those early morning hours well enough. But not in the manner I originally intended. 

Then I slipped into another time zone for a few days and all hope was lost. I started sleeping in. Again. 

I didn't want to step into the day. I was tired. I was cranky. I didn't like the forecast of the day's responsibilities. I slipped back into my old ways.

This morning my eyes popped open at 5 a.m. Bonanza!! I had laundry I wanted to get done; a house that needs vacuuming; followed by a shower and Boom! I would be ready for the day. It is almost 8 a.m. - three hours have passed in the blink of an eye and I still haven't taken the time to be still with my thoughts and write.

I seem to be filling myself up with "words" during my quiet time lately. My five hour drive for my mini holiday was spent listening to Remembrance Day programming one way and the narration of Alex Trebek's book on my way home. My quick trips to my little oasis away from home are about one "We Can Do Hard Things" podcast long. This (in my opinion) is quality programming. But I'm absorbing other people's words and continue to avoid thinking my own thoughts.

I keep falling back into wondering "who am I?" when I don't write, don't sing and dance to my favorite songs on the radio and when I turn off the buzz of all the outside connections that interrupt the natural flow of an old fashioned day. A day when the landline was the only way someone could call. A letter in the mail was the norm for keeping in touch with friends and family who live far away. Inviting friends and family to join me in some manner which would result in a face-to-face visit.

I want to turn back the hands in time to 2008. It was a time when I pealed back the layers of life that wasn't working for me and unearthed a life I was excited to live. It was a time when I immersed myself in family, family memories, family gatherings, invited people into my home or to go on an "adventure". It was a time I felt words oozing out my fingertips and I started writing here. It was time of beginning again. Beginning again was a result of an unexpected end to the life I was expecting. Beginning again was hard. But necessary. And so many good things came from shedding old expectations, examining the life I had and realizing I already had everything I could want.  

I believe a "radio silent" weekend is in order. Turn off my cell phone. Sign out of the Internet. A weekend to read, write and putter would be time well spent. I want to spend a weekend like it is 2008 again and unearth some good old habits.

I Miss Me

I have just spent the past hour revisiting old blog posts I've written. I stood up from the table and thought to myself, "I miss 'me' ".

I miss the part of myself who takes time to be still and let words freefall from my fingertips.

I miss long walks.

I miss being still with nature.

I miss my own pep talks.

I miss ... me.

Life is full of commitments, big and small. The drudgery of doing-what-must-be-done. Work. Being in a state of "on" as one navigates the world.

I come home from my day, immediately put on my PJ's, settle in front of the TV and savor the quiet hum and light emitted from the digital display. I have heard this is the equivalent of sitting down in front of a fire and I'm going with that. It appeases my soul to believe losing myself to an hour of television at the end of a committed day is good for me. The snacking food I opt to add into this equation? That's on me. 

If I'm not eating, moving or talking I fall asleep. I was missing out on the little pieces of enjoyment I used to savor when I decided to banish myself from mindless eating in front of the TV, reading or at the computer. My clothes sure fit better when I was eating "intentionally". I believe I even felt better. 

I have slipped back into old habits the past few months. Doing what it takes to get through the day. Rewarding myself with mindless eating in front of my "virtual fire" (aka: TV). I'm fine. But I could be better.

I needed to read a little pep talk from myself. 

As much as one thinks one may want advice, the only person who is in control of one's actions, thinking and motivation is yourself. 

I needed to hear my own words circled back to me and describe the me I most enjoy being. 

What is your inner voice telling you? What do you know that no one else can tell you? Personally? I think I need to go for a nice, long walk. Would you like to join me?

Throwback Thursday

My only thoughts this morning are "there goes another month".

I wistfully wondered where we will be standing a year from now. Who would have predicted our current state of being?

I have since been scrolling through my blog posts from Septembers in the past. This is the one that spoke to me the loudest. 

A little throwback Thursday post from one year ago with no glimmer of what the next year had in store:

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2019

Look How Far You've Come

While scrolling through the internet this morning, I found a few words that spoke to me:

Credit to: Goalcast

I thought I would reflect on the year and went to check my blog history. September, 2018? Nothing. Not a post.

I then went to look up my 2018 calendar to fill in the blanks. I couldn't find it. I searched through my income tax papers where I always keep my calendar. Not a thing.

Okay, memory. Kick in. What were you doing a year ago?

I remembered September started by a trip with my brother to see my uncle in Guelph. I remember going to my sister's the weekend after that.

I remember feeling a lightness of heart starting to take hold but without the crutches of my blog or a calendar to look back on my memories faded to black. It was a scary feeling.

I scrambled to scroll back on some old texts to find a frame of reference. I found a text where I was headed out to Lloydminster with my son. After reading a few of the messages before and after this trip I was grounded with the knowledge that I remembered what was written in between the texts.

Once my feet were back on the ground and I was thinking clearly, I found my old calendar. Right where I expected it to be.

I flipped back to September, 2018. One year plus six days ago, I received the Final Clearance Letter for Mom's estate. A sibling trip was planned and we officially wound up everything pertaining to Mom's estate shortly thereafter.

We are planning another sibling trip this upcoming weekend. I will be headed off to see my uncle soon. Other events are mirroring those of one year ago.

Two years ago, the loss of Mom was fresh and I felt broken. A year ago, I was picking up the pieces and healing. This year seems to be a renewed version of the year past.

Life has moved on. There is a lot of the same old, same old. Just the way I like it. It feels like the good old days seasoned with the present.

How far have I come? I have a home renovation to celebrate. I am fortunate enough to still be employed. We are all in good spirits and our family relationships are healthy. I'm standing in a very similar place to where I was a year ago but the landscape has changed a little. I am grateful. So very grateful to be back where I have been but feeling better about it.

How about you? What has the last year brought into your life? I hope there have been rainbows after the rain, strength when you need it, courage to keep putting one foot in front of another and the company of those you enjoy to walk through your days.

Back to the present again ...

P.S. I am missing our annual sibling trip terribly. COVID-19, you can leave any time. We have learned quite enough from your presence

Fall - A Time to Shed

 The isolation I long for is the very same isolation that many are battling.

"Be careful what you wish for"

It is my goal to create a home that embraces me with warmth, comfort and joy

so when the day comes that I am the one who is battling the discomfort of being alone, 

I will not feel isolated.

As our daylight hours are shrinking and our mornings and evenings are cooler,

I am comforted in the warmth of fuzzy socks, long pants, favorite sweaters

and the pending season of cocooning myself within our home is a welcome thought.

The idea of winter does not scare me.

But all I have to do is look around

and I feel a darkness among those who are feeling the effects of a spring and summer of isolation.

I fear what winter will bring into their world.

I don't know how to make it better for others.

I feel helpless as I endeavor to alleviate the hopelessness that is growing by the day.

I think of the world I am trying to create within my own home and wonder if that is the key.

To surround yourself with that which brings you joy, 

instead of feeling weighed down by meaningless belongings could provide relief.

A fall project of reorganizing that which we already have,

dusting off evidence of happy memories hidden away in storage

and bringing "joy" into focus instead of clutter. 

Perhaps the changing seasons are a clue as to what we need the most.

The leaves shed their leaves in the fall in order to endure the winter season.

Fall ... 

a time to shed the excess to create space for joy to get us through the winter ahead.

I Miss Me

Waking up to a weekend full of so many thoughts, feelings, ideas and wishes has reminded me of how much I miss "me".

My introvert personality tendencies have me revelling in and losing myself in the COVID world of social distancing and isolation. The Coronavirus is enabling my natural inborn desires which is both wonderful and awful at the same time.

Add working-from-home plus my inclination to catch up on every little single thing I'm working on to this equation and I created a Math Zombie Personality (which is not my best self).

Long ago, I recognized my need for the law and order of a numbers related world to be counteracted with socialization, words, communication and enough quiet to hear myself think.

Decades of working in the banking industry fulfilled most of those needs. The ability to balance to zero was counteracted with the need to provide good customer service. My ability to listen, communicate, act and react in accordance with whoever was in front of me was a very good fit for me. 

My years of daycaring were offset with working at a bank on Saturdays, followed by a part-time bookkeeping job which became full-time. Full-time bookkeeping (all numbers) didn't fulfill my needs and eventually morphed into working as a part-time secretary (all people and words) within the school system. This catapulted me back into my daycaring/bookkeeping role where I was back in a place which was a relatively balanced equation of people, numbers, creativity and writing.

I fell out of balance a week ago when I immersed myself in work. 

I stopped thinking, processing and reflecting life-as-I-know-it. I had nothing to say, no time to say it, no one to say it to and putting this lack of nothingness into the form of a blog post was the end result. 

I took a day off yesterday. Words, thoughts, feelings and the desire to interact with friends and family came to the forefront of my mind again.

I woke up this morning feeling fresh, renewed, revitalized and ready to take on more than numbers.

I felt all these feelings and the sensation of "joy" started oozing out of my pores. I gave myself a mental hug and thought to myself, "I miss ME".

I'm going to indulge myself with whatever the day brings. I cannot wait to see what unfolds today as I create a whimsical day to just be "me". I've missed this ...

Need New Input

I have spent far too much time with myself lately. I got caught up in a rut where I was focused on one thing and one thing only. It is time to diversify my thinking. 

Yesterday was a very good beginning. There is nothing quite like physical labor to unclog one's thought processes. Add being outdoors to the equation and it was a very restorative day.

I woke up to a weekend this morning and finally felt I had the time to sit and listen/watch an hour long Instagram post. It was a video that I cannot sum up in a few words but if I was to attempt to summarize it, I would say it was fueled by a fire that needed to be aired, shared and put out into the world.

The fire was started with a spark. A spark can be a very good thing. It can be the beginning of a process that results in great change. A spark is also all it takes to start a forest fire. This particular spark was of the forest fire variety. 

It isn't fair for me to try to encapsulate a 55 minute dialogue in one short post. But I will say that this conversation triggered so many thoughts. It sparked a little campfire within.

I scribbled down the name of two books, an author and a quote that amused me from this very important discussion. The minute I reread what I wrote, I recognized the humor was sparked because of the great truth within the statement.

Dr Yaba Blay's words spoke loudly to me. Within the fire burning within her, she uttered this:

"I want to apologize. Not because I'm sorry, but because you had to experience my rage and my rage was intended for other people."

Wow. Is it just me? Or does anyone else hear their own truth within that apology. 

After a forest fire, there is room and potential for regrowth. There are so many important conversations going on within this world of ours. It is my fervent hope the rebuilding after these many fires starts with a solid foundation laid by so many who have so much to say.

If you have an hour to spare and are in the mood to be enlightened and/or curious, this is a conversation between Dr. Yaba Blay and Tarana Burke, with Glennon Doyle and Abby Wambach present (but mostly listening and absorbing the content): https://www.instagram.com/p/CCrektaDpNq/

What Would You Do If You Were Retired?

Retirement is a hot topic of conversation between my aunt and me. I'm just a little older than her oldest child. He retired a few years ago. This triggers many conversations.

Q - Why aren't you retired?

A - I didn't plan well enough.

Q - How did my son retire then?

A - He stayed at the same job throughout his career. I quit my job with benefits and became a daycare provider with no benefits and no pension.

Q - Why didn't you just keep on putting money aside then?

A - I was just managing to pay the bills. There was not enough left over.

Q - How long are you going to work?

A - Until I'm at least 65 unless my job situation is taken out of my hands. 

Q - Why don't you retire now?

A - What in the world would I do with my time? I may as well work.

Q - What do you do with your time now?

A - I waste time like nobody's business. I hate to think what I would do if I didn't have to work.

Q - But what do you DO?

A - I do puzzles, I read, I write, I do my banking and play with my finances, I follow where my curiosity leads and lose track of time.

Q - What's wrong with that? 

A - Hmmmm .....

I have spent the past few mornings lost in the questions:

Q - How much has accepting and issuing life's invitations cost me the past few years?

A - Last year - about $3,000; the year before that (a year where I issued as many invitations as I accepted) - closer to $5,000

Revelation - The word "yes" is expensive

Q - Could I afford to retire if the bottom fell out of my employment income?

A - No

Q - Where did my inheritance go?

A - It went exactly where it needed to go. No regrets. But I'm still not quite set up to retire.

Q - What WOULD I do if I was retired?

A - I have sooooo many things I would like to do around here. First, I would sort through paperwork, memories and pictures. 

When I felt I had some semblance of order in all of the above, I would sit down with my letters to Mom and her letters to me. I would sort them into date and conversational order. I would cull the highlights and create a collage of "Dear Mom" letters and Mom's responses. 

What would I do if I was retired? I believe I would sit still with what I have and create order out of the papers, memories, pictures and letters I have collected.

Back to my aunt's question:

Q - What's wrong with that? 

A - Hmmmm .....

Revelation: I am grateful for the repetitive nature of our conversations. It reminds me to remember what I have is good and maybe wasting time like nobody's business today means I am planting seeds for tomorrow.

What seeds are you unknowingly planting today? What small, repetitive actions/conversations/thoughts are reminding you to think and rethink your fate? What question triggers your curiosity and subconsciously sets your thoughts in motion? 

Lose yourself in those thoughts and see where they take you. 

Sunday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A new week awaits.

Rebirth

Today is my youngest son's twenty second birthday. It is no wonder when I sat down with an empty page, pen in one hand and coffee in the other this morning, that my pen started to ramble on birth and rebirth. My thoughts took me down memory lane as I thought of the birth of each of my sons and how I was reborn each time.

My firstborn son was born in August. By January, I was separated from my husband and the need to become a self-supporting parent of one was my guiding light. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Thankfully we had my parent's home and support to weather the storm. I not only found one job, but two. In short order, due to a subsidized mortgage offering, I was able to qualify to purchase a townhouse for us to move into.

1978 My First Time Reborn - Baby. Divorce. Start a job. Buy a house.

My second son was born in September. By December, I left my on-again-off-again marriage for the third and final time. Dad died three days later. His funeral was back "home"- where our family originated and my first home. One off hand comment to the effect of "You should move back 'home'..." was all I needed to set the wheels in motion. That is exactly what we did.

1987 My Second Rebirth - Baby. Divorce. Find a new job. Move to a new province. Create new life.

My third and final child was born in June. By December, I had applied for a year's leave of absence from my employer to test the waters to see if I could open a daycare from my home. I did exactly that and I've never looked back.

1998 My Third Time Reborn - Baby. Leave job. Strike out on my own. Work from home. Become a full-time parent for the third and final time.

The birth of each of my children changed my life, changed me and redirected me towards a better path. My children were an average of ten years apart in age so perhaps my life was in need of a major change at each of these pivotal decades.

It often feels easiest to just keep doing what we are doing and not shake up our world too much, too often. Once every ten years or so worked for me. In fact, as I wrote those words I quietly wondered if I reinvented myself ten years after my youngest child was born. And I did.

My youngest son's father and I broke up late spring. The life I had imagined myself living evaporated into thin air. I was lost. I spent the summer painting and maintaining our home. When winter set in, I started down the road to collecting family memories and binding them together in the form of a book. The following spring, the first book of a series of two was almost complete.

2008 An Unexpected Rebirth - Separation. Ambition. Motivation. Finding myself and my place within our extended family. The birth of two books of Family Memories.

The last decade's transition was less about birth and more focused on loss. Mom's last year was life changing. In September, the wheels were set in motion to create a life where I could be exactly where I wanted to be. Mom's health situation was diagnosed in February. She focused on her continued independence and did not want us to worry. To be able to go out to Mom's on a whim, in good times and in bad was exactly where I wanted and needed to be. She died in September. It was my final year of being a daughter. It is a year I will never regret.

2017 Focus on Being a Daughter - A diagnosis. Moving through. Being there. Loss. Moving on.

I'm in between major decade transitions at the moment. I sense another transition is in the air. I am reminding myself to focus on the moment. Moving through the challenges. Being there. In the midst of the seriousness, our home is going through its own transitions and re-inventing its purpose which is a delightful diversion to all that is going on in the world around us.

Focus on the moment. Be grateful for what "is". Be there. Be motivated. Keep reinventing yourself as the world moves on. One forward step in front of another.

It is truly no wonder they call the birthing process "labor". It is a labor of love but well worth the effort.

Live the Life of an Indoor Cat

Self-isolation may become the catch phrase of 2020. As I walk about my relatively unscathed life-to-date, I am grateful for every little thing that pushes me out of my natural desire to be self-isolating right now.

Then I thought of our cats ...

We have two indoor cats. Cats whose nature is to roam free, chase bugs, hunt mice and do their part in perpetuating the cycle of life.

We have domesticated their lives and asked them to live inside our cages. We bring them food, take care of their needs, provide natural light and windows to the world outside. We allow them to see what they are missing but a pane of glass keeps them from the life they are born to live and the life we have imposed on them. We think adoring and loving them unconditionally makes up for all they have lost.

Our cats have been self-isolating within our home ever since we adopted them.

I am now hearing the voice of my dad as a child:

Grandma had geese at the Rutherford place. One time she was feeding the geese and a goose had chop all over its bill. It grabbed at and bit Dad's eye and really hurt him. Later on, Dad came back and poked the goose in the eye and said, “There! See how it weels [feels]?!”

Yes, I hear our cats chiding us as we adapt to the idea of self isolating. "See how that feels?"

The life of an indoor cat. Yes, we are beginning to have a glimmer of understanding how hard it is to fight our natural desire to socialize and be among nature and life itself.

Good Things Will Come

As I dipped into my revolving supply of morning smoothie ingredients and was quietly grateful for that which is "on tap" within our home on a regular basis, I felt my gratitude multiplied this morning.

Many, many (many) decades ago an acquaintance mentioned her parent's habit of always keeping an extra of everything they used regularly on hand. When their spare item was taken from its place in the pantry, it was immediately replaced. Thus, they always had a ready supply of all regularly used items on hand.

I immediately incorporated "keeping a revolving inventory on hand" into my way of living and budgeting. Any time someone took the last item from our stock, they were supposed to write it on the list so I knew to replace it. This way of shopping has served us well over the years.

Add "budgeting" into this formula and there are times when I'm waiting for the next pay cheque or credit card cut off date before I replenish my supplies. That was exactly were I landed last Friday.

I have been working hard to spend within my allotted budget amount. In order to succeed, I had to wait until Friday to do my shopping. Add the fact that "self isolating" is a way of life for me. I live for weekends where my car doesn't have to leave the garage.  The fact that I had plans to go out that night resulted in shopping at 10 p.m. on a Friday night. Not my favorite place in the world to be. Ever. Let alone in the midst of a time where scarcity is ruling the world as we know it.

I have been very calm, level headed and practical about all the advisories during this time of the COVID-19 Virus. I have read or heard in more than one place: "Everything we need to know, we learned in Kindergarten". Share, don't hog the toys, be kind to one another, protect others when you cough, wash your hands, wash your hands and wash your hands. Stay home if you are sick. And as Glennon Doyle taught me, "do the next right thing".

If we all follow these simple instructions, hopefully we can slow the spread of this virus.

Then I found myself in a Walmart at 10 p.m. on a Friday night, when it should have been close to abandoned. It was busy. The shelves were bare. I had a hard time finding the items on my list to replenish my revolving supply of household goods and groceries.

Yes. I felt the anxiety that is running rampant. I came home to find my son reverberating a different version of the same reality. The university cancelled classes. This is real.

Remember what you learned in Kindergarten. Be kind. Be considerate. Share. Wash your hands often. Plus one amendment to those rules ... give everyone their space and learn to appreciate alone time. This is the breeding ground of great ideas, imagination, creativity and listening to the quiet within the world you may find.

I believe this will get much worse before it gets better. I hear glimmers of hope all around me. Some good will come. I have heard it said that this is giving our earth a chance to breathe. This is a rude awakening ... but it is never so bad that it couldn't be worse.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to our health care system and providers. Thank you, thank you, thank you to those who work in the front lines and are exposed to hundreds upon hundreds of people on a daily basis. I can't begin to think that you are bearing the brunt of people's fear and anxiety. Thank you, thank you, thank you to truck drivers and those in the delivery field. We are so very fortunate to have you in our corner.

Please be mindful, considerate and kind. In times of great uncertainty, please let kindness win.

Verbal Hangovers

"Listen more often than you speak" 

~ Howard Baker

Somewhere in the recent past, I came upon a nugget of wisdom I thought I could hold onto. I cannot find the exact quote but to paraphrase what I remember, it said something to the effect that we can be interesting or interested. Interesting is not a word I would use to describe myself but I would like to be the kind of person who is known as being interested.

I woke up with a verbal hangover this morning. The words "listen more than you speak" are ringing through my ears.

It is definitely a time to focus on being interested. I have so much to learn from those around me. 

Synchronicity

I am working my way through "It's Never Too Late to Begin Again" by Julia Cameron. 

Julia instructs her readers to divide their current age by twelve. In my case, since that answer is five, my first assignment is to go back and recall memories, smells, feelings and all I know about my first five years.

Lucky for me, what I lacked in actual memories, I was able to find in pictures.

Mom and me

I love the look on Mom's face in this picture. I am amused by the ashtray and cigarette at her side. This was the norm back then. Nothing unusual there. Except perhaps the fact that Mom is wearing plaid pants with a striped top. Now that one makes me sit and wonder what inspired her choice in attire that day. Maybe that was the norm too?

Dad and me

I'm a little older here. Once again, I love how Dad is looking at me. Obviously I was placed in the crook of his arm for picture taking purposes only (who would read a paper with a baby in their arms?). I find it comforting that Dad is reading a paper here. Dad sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper is how I think of Dad when I think of him relaxing. 

My Sisters and me

I have been told my sisters were pretty excited to have a new baby in the house and I was adored as a child. Mom saved a card of congratulations from my uncle saying "Congratulations to the 2 sisters too - I hear they're pretty happy people." I have few sister-memories from this age and stage of my life but I have a feeling the closeness I feel to them stems from their attachment to me from day one. Apparently plaid and stripes were the norm back then - check our my sister's attire above.

Momma Cat and me

I don't really remember Momma Cat (I think that was her name) but this picture encapsulates the way I still feel when I'm wrapped up in the moment of being a content cat parent. Cats, boxes, cushions and kids. This has been a common theme throughout my life and that of my own children. The expressions on Mom and Dad's faces in the previous photos have been transferred to me - this time I'm the proud "parent".

Sorting through these pictures, putting them in chronological order and scouring the pictures for long forgotten details segued into my first "Artist Date".

I love the way the music of the 1960's makes me feel. In a word? Happy. As far back as my memory goes, there was a record player in our living room. Remnants of my sisters' teen years were the 45 rpm records of the hits from the 1960's remained when I grew into my teens. This music must have been the soundtrack to my youngest years. I remember nothing but the feeling. Happiness.

Yesterday, I played 1960 music in the background while I finally took on the task of sorting through pictures, memorabilia, newspaper clippings, wedding/funeral cards and all that Mom deemed important enough to save. 

I started a photo album of the first five years of my life while music from the '60's played. I let thoughts, feelings, memories and a sense of wonder wash in, around and through me. 

What started out as a quiet little task to assemble memories of "0 to 5 years", became a walk down memory lane.

It is the closest I've felt to Mom in a very long time.

As per usual, the first thing I did when I woke up this morning was open the living room blinds in the hope of spotting a rabbit. I haven't had many rabbit sightings lately but the evidence of their presence is everywhere. Rabbit tracks galore and the need to replenish their food every other day. 

This morning? A rabbit was sitting on the street, facing our window as if it was sitting and waiting for me. I gazed at this lone, still rabbit for a good half hour before something got its attention and it stood on all fours, stretched upwards, looked towards our living room window one last time and hopped down the street. 

Part of this week's assignment was to be mindful of synchronicities as they happen - being at the right place at the right time, thinking of someone and they call and other little ways of calling your attention to the minute details of life and considering how they are connected.

I was looking back on my 2019 calendar and was reminded of a childhood friend I wanted to invite for lunch. I turned the calendar pages a few times and the friend I had just been thinking of called me. We are having lunch together today.

I knew without a doubt I wanted to spend the early morning hours in "Mom's room" yesterday as I planned to concentrate on my "It's Never Too Late..." assignment. The moment I sat still in the room, I was enveloped with a sense of peace and stillness.

Be still and know ...

I sat still with Mom's box of memorabilia, photos and breathed in the day. I spent the day in the room I dubbed "Mom's room" from the very first time she stayed with us. I immersed myself in childhood thoughts, memories, music and felt a warm embrace and the sense of feeling

 "Everything's going to be okay".

Then I woke up to a rabbit gazing towards our living room window this morning. A rabbit who was in no hurry to move on. A rabbit who seemed to be exactly where it was meant to be.

Synchronicity? I like to think so. It feels good ...

A Year From Now

As much as I have been looking back recapping the year 2019 in my mind, there is a part of me that is looking up, appreciating the moment I'm in and wistfully wondering where things will be a year from now ...

I wrote those words then went back into the archives of this blog to remind myself where I was a year ago.

A year ago, I had basically stopped writing here. I started writing during my Christmas holiday and promised myself to start writing again. I have kept that promise.

A year ago, I wrote of our upstairs bedrooms not having an identity. I was toying with the idea of emptying out each bedroom, painting it, sorting the contents within and getting the house organized and spruced up one room at a time. A year later? The entire upstairs (minus the bathroom) was refurbished, floor to ceiling. The outdoor maintenance has been tended as well.

A year ago, I was beating myself up for not having the ambition I should have. Nothing has changed there. Except I am attempting to be a little kinder to myself and forgiving myself for my shortfalls.

A year ago, I was over the moon because I had no Christmas plans. It was a vacation to be enjoyed at home and there was no place I would rather be. Same goes for this year.

December 30, 2018 - this is what I wrote:

I'm a homebody. I love home. I love quiet. I feel like I could envelope myself within this tiny little world and it would be enough. 

I know enough to be careful what I wish for. What if "this" was all I could have? What if I didn't live in a world where invitations, interaction, work obligations, friends and family weren't at my fingertips? Would this be enough?

I know it wouldn't be. I know I have this incredible peace within me because I have a sense of purpose combined with strong, safe relationships with people outside of my tiny little bubble. 

My bubble wrapped little world. I'm not taking many risks here yet. I'll keep taking one forward step at a time. Peace and contentment first. The rest will follow ...

December 3, 2019 - almost a year has passed since I wrote those words. So much has transpired during the year past. So much.

I cannot help but wonder what the next year will bring. I will set my goals, live life a day at a time, continue to revel in the wonder that is "my life", I will be grateful for good health, family harmony and peace of mind for all.

The wheels are in motion. They never stop. Life evolves a day at a time. The past is history. The future is unknown. Living in the present, with an eye on tomorrow is truly the only way to live.

Though it never ceases to amaze me, how setting intentions does help steer the course of one's life toward a future one can only imagine.

This time last year? I was dreaming of where I hoped to be. Writing more. Tending to the needs of our neglected home. All my dreams came true. And so many more ...

Mathematical Recap of the Year ("Boring Alert" - you may wish to skip this one)

It all started when I started mentally recapping the year 2019 in my mind. It was a good year. It was memorable. It was productive. It was also very expensive.

Then my thoughts took a turn toward the financial side of the year past.

How can I start the new year right - with a new budget in place, pay off an outstanding loan from the year past AND save up for income taxes?

I looked backward and studied the money I spent. I looked forward and tried to orchestrate a budget I can live within. I added up all annual expenses and divided them by twelve to re-institute "annual expenses" back into my budget. The less I earn, the better I manage my money. This was a very financially irresponsible year.

I need to curb my spending, pay off debt and cover my tax bill while hoping no unexpected expenses arise.

Would I change a thing about the year past? Not in a heart beat.

House renovations were long overdue. I wish I had crossed fixing up the bathrooms off the list. If I had, I would be in a pretty fine pickle right about now. Thankfully I reined in my wishes and tabled bathroom renovations for another decade.

Many fine memories were made as I went where I wanted to go, did what I wanted to do, issued invitations on one hand and accepted them on the other.

It was a very good year but I am not quite in the head space to write a Christmas letter at the moment. I need to pick my head up and look above and beyond my financial spreadsheets. I need to find my whimsical side.

When I look up and out of the dollars and cents part of this life equation, I see so very many good things. At the end of the day, I turn on the Christmas lights and find my inner joy as I glance out the window in hope of spotting a rabbit.

It takes so very little to please me. I can read, write, visit and spot rabbits without leaving the house or spending a dime. So where the heck does all the money go? Just give me a sec and I can account for nearly every penny!

This is no time to write Christmas letters. I'll save that for a less financially minded day. I think I'll go watch for rabbits now ...

Hiding in Plain Sight

My day began with an almost missed rabbit spotting. One rabbit was on the street headed away from here. If I had not spotted this rabbit, I wouldn't have seen the second one who was hiding in plain sight in a yard across the street. The only chance I have of spotting the rabbits, if they are not in my own front yard, is if they are on the street or on the move.

Hiding in plain sight.

I'll never know the number of times I've gazed out the window and missed seeing what was right in front of me. Simply because there was no movement to catch my eye.

How many other things does a person miss?

We go about our days with our eyes set on whatever mission we are on. Some are better than others at taking in a wide angle view of life and seeing it in a panoramic view. I tend to see only what is before me. I liken it to walking through the day with blinders on. I zero in on and focus on what is right in front of me while missing that which is going on all around.

At work, I often miss the obvious by staring too intently on that which is wrong in a mathematical puzzle. I need to back up, back off, regroup and refocus to find that which is right before me at times.

I think of "life" in general and the times when I have looked out and beyond the life I was living. Hoping, wishing, grasping for a life that wasn't mine to have. A love that was lost. A job that was never mine to have. A life that ended before I was ready to let go. Looking at my young children and visualizing who I hoped they could be instead of appreciating who they were.

Sometimes a person needs to look at the wider picture to see above and beyond exactly where you are, in order to move forward. Other times, everything you could ever hope for is right in your own back yard. Hiding in plain sight.

Just Be You

This was the quote that spoke to me this morning:

"Just be you ... and if people don't like it, find new people"

Perhaps it was the picture that accompanied the quote - a picture of a little girl with black rimmed glasses that magnified her eyes and at first glance, her hair looked untamed and a little wild (at second glance, her hair looks just fine). 

The picture reminded me of a young version of me, feeling absolutely beautiful, with leotards on my head (in my make believe world, the leotards were my long and flowing hair), wearing Mom's high heel shoes. I remember the disappointment I felt when that picture was developed. I thought I was beautiful. I couldn't believe the ugly little girl the camera captured. It was akin to listening to my actual singing voice on a tape recorder many years later.

I thought of the picture. It was taken in the days when it cost money for every picture on the roll of film. One didn't take excessive pictures in those days. What was Mom thinking when she allowed precious, hard earned cash to develop this picture?

What was she thinking??

Was she amused? Did I ask her to take the picture? Did she realize I would regret having this picture taken? Did she think I was beautiful too? What was going on in her mother-brain when she captured this image? Did she know"this" would be the picture I keep coming back to in my adult years? The years where I continue to battle the feeling that the inner me doesn't match the outer me?

My memory of myself in this picture is actually much, much worse than the reality. Now that I've grown up and have a little better sense of who I am, this photo doesn't bother me. I'm glad I have it. It marks a significant memory of who I was and who I dreamed I could be.

In the same stack of photos, I found this one right along beside the uglier version of myself:

It was the Christmas I wanted a nurse hat more than anything else (it is hard to see it here, but I am quite certain that is what is on my head). I think Mom made me a nurse outfit too - I recall conversations where it is said the only thing I wanted for Christmas that year was a nurse hat and a Penny Brite doll.

The memories of conversations between Mom and my sister about this particular Christmas sift through my mind as I write. The memories aren't mine but as I Googled Penny Brite's image, I found a picture of Penny Brite sitting at a school desk with a blackboard. I'm pretty sure my Penny Brite came with these accessories. If so, I do have an original memory to go with the stories I've heard.

I have been falling in and out of liking myself, my life and questioning "What's next?" a lot these days. Part of me feels a little bit lost. Not really lost. Just wandering. 

I've lost my dreams. I've lost my childlike innocence I felt when these pictures were taken. I dreamed of becoming a nurse. I had forgotten.

"Just Be You ..." 

These are the words that spoke to me this morning. These words have taken me down memory lane and have rekindled a childlike memory of what it felt like to "just be me".

Even though I was a shy, reserved little child I remember feeling something inside of myself that was begging to be seen. I'm grateful for the pictures Mom took to help me remember the confidence I felt inside, despite the side of myself the world saw.

Acceptance, Courage and Wisdom

Ahhh ... it is back to the work world once again. For the first time in a very long time, I feel rested, relaxed, rejuvenated and ready to take on the day ahead of me.

I am not certain what the magic formula is.

Is it NOT having any other up and coming commitments lying in wait?

Is it the aftermath of two days of solitude and simply being home?

Is it the full body "cleanse" I just completed?

Is it the reassurance of a good bill of health and no need to rinse and repeat the above mentioned procedure for another 5 years?

Is it sleeping off yesterday's sedation and simply feeling completely rested?

Is it revelling in good memories of a most wonderful set of events preceding today?

Is it the fact that I did a few of the things that have the power to weigh me down yesterday morning?

Waking up to a day where all of the hard things are behind me feels like the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders.

Now ... the million dollar question is "How do I maintain this in the long term?"

I believe I must go back to some of the scribbles I found on the table beside the computer. Stop worrying about things that don't happen. So much of life is out of our control. The secret is in the knowing the difference. It all comes back to the serenity prayer. Acceptance of what we cannot control; courage to change the things we can; wisdom to know the difference. 

One step at a time. One day at a time. Let go and let things unfold as they must. I am reliving what I learned in AlAnon. I believe the power lies within learning what we can and cannot control within our lives. Now to put this to work in my day-to-day life.  

What is weighing you down these days? Do you have the power to tackle the hard things and put them behind you? 

We can plan, hope and dream all we like but sometimes life has other plans.

I wish you a day where you feel on top of your struggles. 

It's All History Now

The past few weeks have been a bit of a whirlwind and there has been little (no) time to blog or keep up to date on the mundane little things I do to mark my time here in my small little world at home. Normally I would feel the need to catch up on "all of the above" but now that I have sat back and enjoyed a few quiet days at home, none of this catching up feels necessary.

I hope the highlight reel of this time of great busyness trickles out in the form of blog posts as time goes by but I am not going to force the words. They will come when they are ready.

A writing workshop is one of the first things I attended during this blog writing sabbatical. The workshop was less about writing and more about finding your creative self. After one full day of immersing myself in this workshop, my takeaway from that was:

• Wireless Sundays - Sunday will be my day to disconnect from technology and reconnect with the life that is right in front of me
• Walk more. I write these words and wonder "when"? I'm not quite certain how and when I can accomplish this and I am immediately recalling all of the excuses that have led to this sedentary life I lead
• Artist dates. This is simply setting aside time to do something alone to take in what the world has to offer (if I combine this with walking, maybe I can kill two birds with one stone)
• Morning pages, morning pages, morning pages - 3, 8-1/2 X 11" pages of long hand writing, written first thing every morning to clear the clutter of one's mind 

I hope to accomplish tackling this small list of things to do, to find the "me" I used to be. I used to find my answers in the quietness. Technology, TV, Netflix and the constant connection to the world via cell phones creates an eternal buzz. We are far too connected within this world of ours. This connection serves a beneficial purpose but the cost is high.

As I sit at the tail end of this holiday I have taken, I am relaxed, replenished and open to the idea of trying the tasks I have mentioned. I have been, gone, seen and done everything that I set out to do. Now it is time to settle in and renovate my inner self one step at a time. 

I went into this holiday feeling overwhelmed, anxious and eager to put it all behind me. I knew I would enjoy every single part of this time away from my regularly scheduled life. I was right. I simply need to work on finding a balance that doesn't tip the scales too far one way. I am hopeful I am on the right track.

Two days of forced solitude at the tail end of these holidays was exactly what I needed. I am grateful for the preparation and appointment I had today which enforced this time of quiet before I head back into my life. There is no way to go but forward. It's all history now ...