Say it Out Loud

Sometimes I need to say things out loud to hear the answers I need to hear.

It was a small thing, but in my litany of voicing my exasperating 'kid moments' last week I heard myself speak. It was a small thing (my two-year-old who shoves the entire toast crust into his mouth in a double-fisted all-goes-in-his-mouth maneuver), but once I said it out loud I heard the obvious - cut the toast into 'triangles' (less crust to jam into his mouth at the end). It worked like a charm.

My second minor epiphany that was a day-changer yesterday. Monday is an exhausting day. Everyone is exhausted. Yesterday? I put the one-year-olds down for a short morning snooze and I snuggled on the couch with the two-year-old for some TV time while the girls were sleeping. Calmness reigned throughout the day.

Writing things out helps me sort through the chaos in my mind and helps me see that it is often one overwhelming thought that is going forth and multiplying in my mind. When the words are on paper, I can see that my thoughts were bigger in my mind than they were in reality.

How many times have I said something out loud and heard the answer I needed to hear ... simply by hearing my voice outside my head? More times than I can remember.

Keeping our thoughts to ourselves isn't always the best answer. Put a voice to that which is overtaking your thoughts. Say it out loud. Bounce your words off of another human being. You may be surprised at what you hear.

Besides that, putting a voice to your happiness enhances that which is already there. Sharing your worries diminishes their power. Call a friend today. You will be glad that you did.

 "Shared joy is a double joy; shared sorrow is half a sorrow" (a Swedish proverb)

When the Wind Blows

I woke up to a weekend with no agenda Saturday morning. Honestly? I wanted to close the blinds and simply disappear from the world and regroup. Instead? I called my mom.

Mom and I have had some pretty good Saturday morning phone calls. This one felt a little different. First and foremost, she was quite disgusted to wake up to yet another freshly snow-covered morning. Secondly, her back was bothering her. Enough for her to put a voice to it (she isn't a complainer, so this was out of her norm). Most of all ... it was her voice. She simply didn't sound like herself.

We talked in and around the week's events. She mentioned mailing her income tax papers to me since she had been unable to make it out with them on the Easter weekend as we had originally hoped. There is something about 'mailing those income tax papers' that doesn't sit well with me ...

Dad always brought his income tax to his accountant in Our Fair City when I was growing up. As a rule (if memory serves me correctly), it was usually at Easter. It was a small little ritual that never varied too far from the norm.

After Dad died, Mom kept up the ritual and brought those tax papers back to the same tried and true accountant for some time before she started 'keeping it within the family' and I started doing her taxes. As it was with my childhood memories, bringing those tax papers back 'home' usually involved an Easter gathering ... and as time went on and weather conditions prevailed we would simply ensure that we got together some time before the end of April so that I could get her tax papers one way or another.

A few years ago, in a completely untypical move, Mom told me she was just going to mail her income tax stuff to me. Alarm bells rang and I knew something was not right. Mom doesn't like to trust the postal system with papers of such a confidential nature. I decided to simply make a visit of it and retrieve her papers in person. My sisters came along with me for the ride ...

There was a reason alarm bells were ringing. Mom wasn't doing too well and medical intervention was required. My sisters and I rotated our availability to go out and stay with Mom until everything stabilized and we felt ready to leave Mom on her own again (she would probably tell you that we over reacted). None-the-less ... we were there when we needed to be. And it was the threat of mailing out those tax papers that alerted me to something different in the air.

So when Mom was talking about mailing her income tax to me once again, I replied that I should see if my Middle Son felt like going for a road trip and we could run out there (a five hour drive) and pick them up. She didn't decline. My son was (unbeknownst to me) standing in the kitchen and overheard my comment. He peeked his head around the corner and nodded to me in agreement.

A few minutes later I was off the phone with Mom and within the hour, we were Westward bound. And off to see Mom.

My Son and I talked about little things, big things and things-that-matter along the way. Mom greeted us enthusiastically upon our arrival, six hours after we hung up the phone Saturday morning (she was faking it a little bit but her back was still bothering her so that didn't help).

We all went and visited my brother's family after supper. They have been plagued with their own set of worries and it simply felt good to 'be there' in some capacity. The visit was light but there were serious undertones. I know Mom is concerned about them...

We were back home 28 hours after we left, with eight waking hours left in the weekend. At this point I have no real firm idea if our spur-of-the-moment visit was really necessary or not.

I don't really feel like it made a huge difference in the whole scheme of things. Did I give Mom more things to worry about in my mindless chatter (about dealing with small children on a daily basis) or did I divert her thoughts? Her back ache shifted locations by the time we left. Is this anything to be concerned about? I don't know ...

My son gave my mom a tentative 'spring getaway plan' as we were walking out the door. He invited her to come and bear witness to moving the house onto their farm in May. Nine days after the move, they are headed back her way and could provide her a 'ride back home'.

The snow should be gone by May. Spring should be out in full force. A whole new life will become a reality as My Son & His Girlfriend move a modest little home onto the piece of land that they have been laboring over. It is my hope that Mom is looking forward and seeing 'a month from now' as a time of renewal and coming home to be a part of something that is close to her heart.

I just know that the wind was blowing Saturday morning. And we went with it. I have never been steered wrong when I simply follow where ever the wind blows me. It felt right. It was easy. There was absolutely no resistance or cross-wind to make me feel like we were doing anything but the right thing.

I know this past weekend mattered. I know that I will look back on it and know that it was the right thing to do. I don't know why ... but I know that when the wind blows, I will do my very best to relax and just go with it.

Courageous?

It was a long week. I am tired. The week can be summed up by two phrases:

• Taking care of one and two year olds is hard work
• "I'm not listening ...", said my five year old as I was trying to explain to him how hard it is to reason with a two year old

It has been a long, long winter. I am so looking forward to warm, sunny days spent in the great outdoors.

I do not feel 'courageous' this morning. But I did wake up with the phrase "I will try again next week" running through my mind. So I guess that doesn't make me a coward.

Joy Defined

joy - 1.A feeling of great pleasure and happiness. 2.A thing that causes joy.

That which brings great pleasure and happiness into my life changes by the day. Perhaps by the minute ...

Children at play. One minute it may be over-the-top energy, enthusiasm and laughter. The next, it may be quiet contentment among a group. The closest thing to heaven on earth that I have witnessed is children playing contentedly among themselves. There is nothing better than harmony among children. It is one of my favorite things.

Children playing outdoors is a close second. Ahhh. There is nothing like it. A wide open sky. Space to let that pent up energy be released. Fresh air and sunshine are a great combo to add to a child-filled day. I love it. Except when I am fretting over one of the kids toppling down off the snow mountain in our front yard ... or throwing an ice-ball and hitting someone or falling into the window well or running out onto the street (our days of playing in the front yard are wearing very, very thin. So is 'winter').

An unexpected movie night brought a smile to my face and joy into my heart the other night. I bought 'Toy Story 3' for my daycare family. My Youngest and I picked up some refreshments and parked ourselves in front of the TV. Together. We simply savored a moment from a simpler time.

Then I went dancing. I like walking into the dance studio. There were many familiar faces within those walls. It is light and easy. But it isn't the same as it used to be ...

I know I'm there for only a short time. Until the dance lessons that I have paid for run out. I feel like I am learning things that will never be put to practice in the real world. Nor the dance world. I still enjoy it ... but it is simply not the same as it used to be. I miss the passion.

How does one bring the passion back into something that may have run its course? I sound like I am talking about marriage. And in many ways ... maybe I am.

When something that used to be light, easy, full of fun, happiness and joy becomes work ... where do you go from there? When it is something that is an integral part of your life (marriage, family, work ...), what can you do to keep the joy that is mixed into the reality of day-to-day life?

I am no expert on marriage and long term relationships. But I starting to feel successful in maintaining relationships within my friendships, family and my children. Perhaps a little of what is working within the core or my life can be utilized to continue to maintain what is working.

Savor those moments of quiet contentment during the drudgery of day-to-day life. There is no better way of appreciating that contentment, than to have it taken away. Try taking on something brand new in your life and you will soon come to realize that the 'same old, same old' is something one misses when it isn't a part of your life.

Add a dose of fresh air and sunshine into whatever you do. Take a step out into the vastness of our great outdoors. Whether you sit on your doorstep and gaze upwards into the sky ... or go for a walk ... or take a drive. Enjoy the view outside of your reality on a regular basis. Conversation may or may not be a part of the scenario. Doing something quietly with a loved one at your side may be 'the best conversation you didn't have'...

Take in a spur of the moment 'movie night' now and again. It doesn't have to be grand in any way, shape or form. Simply tune out the rest of the world and tune into something that moves you to laugh, feel, cry ... anything. If you can share the moment with someone who enhances the flavor of said movie night, go for it! I can enjoy something just as much on my own (sometimes I need the aloneness to appreciate something to its fullest). Tune out the world some of the time.

Dance to the beat of your own heart beat. Do something that moves you to want to sing, dance or skip. Find something joyful that brings something meaningful to you and bring it into your world. When I turn on the music and sing and dance within the safe confines of my life, I feel the same joyfulness that I used to feel when I danced on a more regular basis.

When life starts to feel like too much work, take it one small step at a time. Add a little joy into your day in whatever capacity you can. Life isn't about the big moments that come once-in-a-lifetime. It is about making the little moments into something bigger than they appear.

Now I must go and take my own advice as I step into another kid-filled day. This week has felt a little too much like work. I must look towards the sun and savor the small moments within today. I have had just a few too many weeks like this. I must look within, to make the rest of my world work better...

Without Her ...

I have walked at the side of (too) many people who have faced great loss in their lives this past year. I walked into this role with precious little first-hand experience. It is unfortunate to say that I have learned what I have to write, at the expense of people that mean the world to me.

I didn't know what to say or what to do. I sat back and thought that the person who was facing the greatest challenge that life had given them so far had so much support that I wasn't needed. Rule #1 - Never Assume Anything.

I learned that sometimes you may be the only person that 'shows up'. Or perhaps you, as your own unique individual ... have something to offer that makes it easier in some capacity. Rule #2 - Just Show Up. You will never know what a difference your presence makes.

Just listen. I led with my heart and it seemed to take me places that the other person needed to go. Sometimes I felt that I was no help at all ... but I was assured that the diversion of a fresh, new conversation about life-outside-the-hospital-doors was just what the doctor ordered. Rule #3 - Follow the path the conversation takes.

I am not a hugger. But there are times when the physical touch of another human being says more than a thousand words. I will never forget the time my brother simply touched my hand at a time that my world was caving in around me. There are times that I have touched some one's shoulder or hand in a similar manner. Rule #4 - Reach out in 'whatever' language you speak. You will never know the difference you have made by simply reaching out and touching someone.

Rule #4 - Be grateful for the people in your life that tell you exactly what they need. I have friends that are polar opposite from each other, yet what I learn from one friend helps me hear what another friend is not telling me. There is great comfort to be told what to do at a time when you have no idea. Yet ... there comes a time when even that friend who knows how to ask for what they need, will not ask. Fall back on Rule #2 - Just show up.

Mourning knows no end. Don't forget that. You never get over losing a loved one ... you simply come to accept it. Triggers are everywhere and you don't see them coming. Rule #5 - Keep showing up.

I am learning at the expense of others. Every person that I know that has faced great loss is teaching me what I need to know to walk through dark moments with another.

The friend who is not afraid to ask for help has opened my eyes to the simple things that matter. And as specific as she may be in her needs ("A large, strawberry milkshake from Dairy Queen" for example), I have also learned that "Just showing up" is what she needs most of all.

The friend who asks for absolutely nothing has taught me that simply "showing up" is often the best gift of all. She has helped me trust my intuition and feel confident in opening myself up to whatever may help her get through 'a moment'.

My uncle has been raw and open with emotion. He has opened my eyes in ways that I have never seen before. He has talked so openly and freely. My heart aches for him and his loss. He is going through the paces of his unexpected new life. He is saying the same words. But the twinkle in his eye has lost its luster. He misses her and the input that she had to put life's little lessons into perspective.

My uncle and I drove out to my sister's (who is married to his brother) on the weekend. My sister's guest list dwindled greatly due to circumstances beyond any one's control ... and when all was said and done our party dwindled down to my two sisters, their husbands, my uncle and me.

I have never, ever felt so alone in my singleness as I did this past weekend. In part, it was because my sisters and I either get together in a sibling-only capacity. Or else it is a full-out-all-family-included kind of affair. But this weekend, I believe that it was because I was seeing and feeling what I could only guess my uncle was living ... that I felt my 'singleness' so acutely. Any other time, my aunt would have been there.

How does the world go on spinning without her ... how dare it go on? Him without her is like peanut butter without chocolate. It can and does work on its own. But the combination of the two? They were made for each other. I hear it in the twinkle and chuckle that is now missing from his little anecdotes.

He misses her. Her children miss her. The world is not the same without her. Yet ... the world is a far better place because she was in it. I am grateful for every little memory that I have of her to hold on to.

I am but one person in the vastness of family and friends that these people have. From the outside, looking in ... it would seem that they have all the support that they need. But from what I have learned, I will simply just keep showing up. Maybe it is nothing in the whole scheme of things ... but what if it is like the time that my brother simply touched my hand. What if ... it is a small thing that makes a big difference?

I will simply keep showing up...

Writing

Please accept my sincerest apologies if you are coming over to read a little bit here thanks to my son's referral from garagejournal.com (please feel free to click on that link to check out my son's forum page as he writes and illustrates the progress he is making on his farm).

I am dabbling in 'public writing', which is a little similar to public speaking. You put yourself out on display for strangers to read or ignore or critique and there are moments (I had many such moments yesterday) when you simply want to crawl back under your rock and live a quiet little life behind closed doors.

I am writing a column for a handful of papers now. I also have a blog site within an Ontario publication. Once that site receives over 500 'hits', I will be paid a small stipend per hit. So ... I took a calculated risk and advertised that fact on my Facebook page:

Does anyone mind if I do a little self-promoting in this spot? If so, stop reading right now and carry on to the next item in your news feed ...

If you are still reading, I am still here writing. And that is what this is all about. My writing.

I am writing a column for a handful of papers and I have a blog space for an Ontario publication "MyKawartha" (a Peterborough and Kawartha Lakes community online newspaper). Once my blog has over 500 'hits', I will be paid according to the number of people viewing my posts.

So ... I am attaching the link to my blog. If you like it and think that it is worth following or passing along to someone feel free to do so. If not, please ignore this blatant misuse of Facebook space and carry on with your day!

http://www.mykawartha.com/blog/1594830

I thought it was a small risk. I have 31 Facebook friends and I am a little bit certain that a small majority of them don't invest a great amount of time reading other people's updates. So I thought that perhaps I would reach another handful of readers.

You can imagine how terrifying it was when my son's girlfriend shared my link with her (much larger) group of friends. Suddenly I was feeling a small amount of anxiety about what I had written on my 'pay-per-view' blog site and how palatable it would be to a younger crowd. My day got busy and I decided that it was a waste of energy to worry about it any further.

Then ... I started noticing 'hits' on this blog space from "garagejournal.com". Oh. my. gosh. If I was a small bit anxious about what the younger set may think of my highly scrutinized, edited and condensed versions of my writing were over at myKawartha.com ... I was starting to sweat a few bullets when I thought of the readership from a garage forum in my personal blog space here...

I come here most mornings to purge my thoughts. Sometimes they are worth reading. Many times they are not. I am fearful that if I started scrutinizing every single word that I wrote, that I would get out of the habit of writing. So I write. I write alot. Much of it is tedious and mundane. But when I feel something very strongly and simply let my fingers fly over the keyboard ... every now and again I come up with something that may strike a chord with someone. So I write.

If you wish, please feel free to mosey on over to my more 'professional' writing spot at myKawartha.com . The articles that I have posted over there are some that are a little more polished and (hopefully) with enough substance to keep the attention of someone that I don't know. Everything that I write over there has originated 'here' ... in the privacy of my own personal blog.

What you read here is pretty raw and untamed. And I would imagine pretty boring as well. Please don't hold this against me. In the flourish of words that come, every now and again comes a nugget worth holding onto.

So I write. I write freely here. This is who I am. I would apologize for the fact ... but wouldn't it be safe to say that most of us have a little bit of that going on in our world? The face we show the world ... and the one we hold a little closer to the chest. The person we let out in little bits and pieces when we are safe and secure enough to do so.

Welcome to my safety zone. Enter at your own risk.

Doing it All Over Again

I'm walking into a new week (like the rest of the world) with a clean slate. Last week is behind us. This week will be a surprise.

Our temperatures are forecast to be hovering just over 'freezing' this week. I hope that means that the mountains of snow will melt in a fashion that does not create too much havoc. I want the snow and ice and puddles and mud and dirt gone so very, very much. But I would rather take this season slowly in the hopes that flooding is kept at a minimum.

Kids are out of school this week. In my Daycare, Part I ... school holidays spelt chaos. In Daycare, The Sequel ... school holidays are something that I actually look forward to. I will have the pleasure of spending the days with a five and an eight year old (in addition to my three regulars who are all under the age of three). I am looking into the week ahead with anticipation.

I officially have four weeks of flyers left before I hang up my carrier bag. I gave the required one month notice last week. I quite honestly cannot wait until this month is over. The snow should be gone and my flyer route will definitely be gone. I will miss it, but my thumbs won't (my sore-thumb repetitive injury is becoming a tiny bit bothersome).

I have a three-day weekend behind me. I cannot believe how completely thoroughly I wasted my days. I went away for (just over) 24 hours and it wiped me out. I came home and slept. Yesterday was not much better. Seven cups of coffee and visiting with a few friends pushed me off of the couch and away from the computer, but I quite honestly frittered away the final day of the long weekend. Shame on me! So I should have excessive stored up energy to take with me into the upcoming week.

I believe that most of my outstanding worries have been addressed and are behind me this week. So I am not carrying any excessive load into the week ahead. I am focused on the day that I am living and I am not scouting out any new income-earning-opportunities. I'm simply living in the present and trusting that the future will take care of itself. Why I have the illusion that I have any control over such matters is beyond me. But every now and again, I stick my neck out and try to create a path that I hope to follow. Not this week.

This week is a fly-by-the-pants kind of week. I'm not looking too far ahead and my neck is too sore to look backwards.

One step at a time. That's all I can do. It is all anyone can do.

I will do my best and give myself a break if I don't live up to my own expectations. I'm tired of beating myself up. It is a waste of energy.

My goal for the week is to spend the energy that I do have, in a positive fashion. That is my goal ...