The Window Through Which We Look

I am without time. I have lots of words, but none of them are blending into a cohesive unit. So today, I am posting someone else's words. Unfortunately I was unable to find the name of the author. But these words are not mine so someone else gets the credit.

This is a short reading from the non-denominational church service at our homecoming a few weekends ago. It made me laugh ... but most of all, made me think:

 A young couple moves into a new neighborhood.

The next morning while they are eating breakfast, the young

woman sees her neighbor hanging the wash outside.

"That laundry is not very clean", she said.

"She doesn't know how to wash correctly.

Perhaps she needs better laundry soap."

Her husband looked on, but remained silent.

Every time her neighbor would hang her wash to dry, the

young woman would make the same comments.

About one month later, the woman was surprised to see a

nice clean wash on the line and said to her husband:

"Look, she has learned how to wash correctly.

I wonder who taught her this?"

The husband said, "I got up early this morning and

cleaned our windows."

And so it is with life. What we see when watching others

depends on the purity of the window through which we look.

The Holiday is Over

Our family reunion weekend is wrapping up this morning. All that is left, is the packing up and final farewells. And the memories.

These past days have been fun and easy. The easy rapport among family. Laughter, support and encouragement. The give and the take, the yin and the yang. We speak a language that some may not understand ...

There is a quiet understanding among us. Few words mean a lot ... but far too often, we use an excessive amount of words to say very little (?!?) . A look, a glance or a simple comment can send us into gales of laughter or a sense of knowing what is going on beneath the surface.

Two reunion weekends back-to-back, has been a great way to kick start the summer. Now it is time to go home.

It is time to take back my life, my responsibilities and forge ahead. It is time to achieve some of those goals that I have set for myself. It is time to buckle down and get to work.

It feels like there has been nothing but fun in my life, these past few months. One event has been a springboard as it has launched into the next. It is with quiet relief that I look at my empty calendar for the rest of the year.

I am eager to return home and start carving the path that I need and want to follow. My heart and soul have been lifted up and I am rejuvenated with an energy source that wasn't there before.

The holiday may be over ... but it is with great anticipation that I am returning to life-as-I-know-it. I'm ready.

Roughing It

Last weekend, we camped out at my Home Town Homecoming reunion. The camper we borrowed was perfect in every way. We had a roof over our heads, a comfortable place to sleep, cold water and washroom facilities.

This weekend, our family is gathering for our own little reunion. My siblings, Mom & I met yesterday. The nieces and nephews will join us for the weekend.

We booked this place because it had accommodations of every kind, a water slide, mini golf and a myriad of attractions in and around the city we are in.

My Brother's family of four; Mom; My Youngest & I have rented a mobile home for the duration. I had few expectations. I brought along cleaning supplies so that I could clean things up if necessary.

We walked in the door and were blown away. This is quite literally a home away from home. They have thought of absolutely everything. Not to mention Internet! Lucky for me, I brought along my handy dandy Netbook.

Yes, we are 'camping out' with family this weekend. Roughing it never looked so good.

Support Where Needed

I have just returned from an appointment at my friendly, out-of-the-neighborhood podiatrist. That guy makes my feet so happy that I could dance!

Today's ailment was different from my Zumba-related foot troubles. The corns and calluses from my running shoes are not a problem (since I haven't been wearing my runners, due to a severe lack of exercise and Zumba-fun). My troubles originated from dancing this time ...

Long story short, my bunion is most likely causing me to place undue pressure on my metatarsals ... and now it hurts to walk on the balls of my feet without padded footwear.

My troubles were alleviated by placing padding at the base of where it hurts, to give my metatarsals support. He warned me that padding placed under the area that hurts would only add extra pressure. I need support - not padded protection on the area that is hurting.

As it is with life. Often ... we simply need support. We don't need to be padded from life's blows. We need support from time to time to help us build up our inner reserve and persevere.

If I Follow This Road ...

Yesterday was one more day where I sat down with the realization that I am not where I am meant to be.

I am in a job where my desire to learn, work to my potential, achieve and organize my days in a fashion where I can accomplish a lot within the time frame I am given ... is being thwarted at every turn.

I feel defeated and beat up. I am done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life is funny. My eyes are opening to the clues that I have been provided with. All I must do is follow the path that I am being drawn towards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Our home town reunion. I lived and breathed family and community throughout the duration of the weekend. My heart and soul were nourished. I know that I will sit down and get busy on my dad's family memories and story within the week. I want to do this. I need to do this. I will do this. I will follow my heart and complete this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yesterday morning, I had to wait one hour for an appointment. One hour. I haven't waited that long for an appointment since ... I can't remember when.

There were magazines to read. I didn't grab one. I chatted with the lady beside me. I sat still with my thoughts. And I waited.

Finally ... at the end of that hour, I did grab a magazine. What should I find on the cover when I finally picked up something to read? Zumba-inspired exercises. I flipped directly to the page and thought to myself: "It is that easy ... just look and you will find what you need to know to complete your Group Fitness class!"

Within five hours ... who should I run into? A girl from my Group Fitness class who has completed the final hurdle. What did she tell me? "Just do it!" I will. I must. This will open a door that I have voluntarily closed. It is time to finish what I started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An email from a friend with a job that she spotted online. I was busy and my head was full of other thoughts when I returned from the weekend and found her email. This morning? It came sharply into focus. At first glance, I didn't think that this would be the job for me (not a full time position). But after yesterday, I have reconsidered. Two jobs could work ...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is time. Life is giving me a lot of clues as to the paths which are available. All I have to do is follow the road and see where it leads.

You Can Go Home Again

Our family moved away from our community when I was nine years old. The visits back home were most frequent the first year after we moved. Our house on the farm was still 'home'.

Eventually, all of our belongings were moved out of that house and it was rented out. And so began the slow realization that our home now belonged to someone else.

Trips back home began to mean sleeping over at My Sister's home (she was a newlywed when we moved out of province). Sleepovers at My Sister's home helped to make up for the loss of our home on the farm.

I was quite young when I stopped returning home with my parents. My life, my friends and my future were in our new province. I was painfully shy and finding it harder and harder to go back.

The years went on and my trips back home became few and far between.

I was 26 years old when Mom and I returned home together for a visit. Little did I know that trip would be a catalyst of a Time of Great Change for me.

At that time, I was pregnant and living in an abusive relationship. All of my friends were the wives of my husband's friends and family. Each and every one of us was living in a dysfunctional situation. Our friendships were forged out of a shared source of pain. I looked at those friends and I felt like the lucky one. Each of them were dealing with something far worse than me.

Then I came 'home'.

I was surrounded by the goodness of my family. My present-day life came into focus. I privately vowed to myself never to return home again. I saw the contrast between 'life as it could be' ... and 'life as it was'. If I was going to honor my vow " 'til death do us part" ... I could not bear to witness this other (healthy) side of life.

Little did I know at the time, that less than one year later I would pack up my children and head back 'home'.

We moved to a city which was one and a half hours away from our home town. I had cousins in the city and an aunt and uncle that I could call on, if necessary. I didn't call.

My little family built a new life in our New City. Friendships are not built in a day. But a solid foundation was being laid for the new friends that would enter my life and never leave.

Ever so slowly, my heart and soul healed. I was raising my children during this evolution. Life was not perfect, but it was returning back to the healthy environment in which I was raised.

The bonds between my siblings and my mom have always been strong and true. But they were fortified and they have flourished throughout the years since I moved my family back 'home'.

I continued to see cousins, aunts and uncles as a distinct and separate entity from myself. It was as though I was on the outside, looking in. I would have liked to become part of that circle but I still struggled with the courage it takes to make those forward steps.

Five years ago, I returned to our home town for a Homecoming reunion. Five years ago, a seed was planted which changed the course of my life. Five years ago, my mom found two of my cousins and an old friend. She gathered us together at a table and we visited as though a lifetime hadn't elapsed since we last talked.

Little did I know, the chain of events initiated by that moment would alter the course of my life, my thinking, my confidence and my being. Five years ago ... I started to come home.

This past weekend, our home town held another reunion. I walked into the weekend with high hopes but few expectations. I arranged it so that I could stay for the entire weekend. The first night, I went to bed and thought "What have I done??"

It takes a lot of energy to initiate and hold a conversation with someone that I don't know well. I felt the 'quiet me' taking up residence in my body. I kept pushing that shy girl to the side and moved forward. But I couldn't go back to my home in the city to build up my reserves for the next day. How could I do this for three days without that fortification that I get from being within my own safety zone in my home?

Fast forward to the end of the third day at our reunion.

The weekend was wound up with a non denominational worship service on Sunday morning. The hall was full to capacity. Surrounded by friends and family, we paid tribute to our community, our forefathers ... to the past, present and future.

My heart was full. Me. The stoic one. Had a lump in my throat the size of a grapefruit as the music spoke to my soul. Tears leaked out of my eyes as I allowed the emotions to surface. Each and every person who sang, spoke or contributed to the service defined the community which I proudly call home.

I am a part of this community. A very, very small member at large. But this is where my roots are. I tentatively stepped into this weekend feeling like I didn't really belong here. I walked away three days later ... knowing that without a doubt ... that I could go home again.

I'll be back ...

Home Town Connections

This weekend is something that I have been quietly anticipating for the past five years. Since the last time I was 'home' ...

Five years ago, I returned to our home town for a Homecoming Reunion. I drove into town, expecting nothing more than to hang out with my own family and maybe see a few relatives. Little did I know at the time ... that weekend would change the course of my life.

I felt so comfortable ... so at home, that I returned for the second day. I reconnected with a friend ... and I ended up going on an Alaskan cruise with her (almost) five years later. The past started to meet up with my future that weekend.

That weekend started to bring my life into focus. It was the beginning of something that needed to be nurtured within me. The nine year old child in me (I was nine years old when our family moved to Alberta) finally came 'home' again.

Since that time, I have rerouted my life. I have nurtured, watered and tended to my 'roots'. My past, my heritage and my family are now a great part of my life.

This weekend ... I get to go 'home'. Again.