Alone Time

I spent the weekend in relative solitude. I recall talking with my Youngest Son. I exchanged instructions with my Bookkeeping Boss. A few words here and there to those I passed by. But for the most part, I was alone all weekend. And I didn't even realize it.

I am a solitary soul at the best of times. If I am pushed out of my comfort zone too often and for too long, I get kind of squirmish inside. I like my space. I need it.

As I recall the events of the weekend, it feels like every moment was consumed with something. From the mundane (house cleaning and snow shovelling) to the necessary (grocery shopping and bookkeeping) to tending to 'Christmas' in the very low key way in which I celebrate ...

Writing. For a person who does not enjoy the pressures that the Christmas season brings, I seem to reap a lot of benefits from that-which-I-do. Christmas cards and letters. Christmas projects of the wordy kind. Writing, writing, writing. I never feel alone when I release 'words' into the universe.

I entertain myself so completely and fully and have complete conversations with myself as I write. So at the end of a very busy weekend, I was actually quite surprised that I was alone 99% of the time. Who knew?

May you live a life where your own company is good enough to keep you going as one day unfolds into the next. Really (as my friend so succinctly phrased it), "... we really are all alone in this world no matter how many people surround us ...", so it is important to enjoy your own company.

"Alone time is when I distance myself from the voices of the world so I can hear my own." ~ Oprah

The Longest Year

I just stumbled upon someone commenting on 'A Year Ago Today...' and I had no idea what they were referring to. As the clues slowly revealed that they were speaking of the elementary school shooting in Newtown, Connecticut I could not believe that was only a year ago.

December 14, 2012 ...

I heard the news on the radio as I made my way over to my friend's home. She was dealing with the loss of her mother. I stood at her side as she released balloons into the sky and felt her mother's reluctance (yet relief) to join her husband and son. As the world mourned for the unspeakable losses of innocent young children and educators, my friend's loss was up close and personal. That was only one year ago...

Ten days later, my aunt was admitted into the hospital. When my uncle walked through the doors of that hospital on December 24th, it was beyond his comprehension that he would not bring her home again. One week. One week of fighting the good fight. One week of family coming from near and far. One week to come to the slow realization that things were not getting better. A mother of nine, a wife, a sister, an aunt, a friend ... didn't come home again. Time stood still yet the calendar pages kept turning. Almost one year ago?

My friend that was dealing with terminal cancer passed away in October. One year ago, her prognosis was sounding brighter. She was planning on seeing her yet unborn grandchild start kindergarten. She was looking toward a five year goal. One year ago? She would have not predicted that she had barely over ten more months to reach for the goals within her grasp.

My uncle's cancer has returned. I do not know all of the details. They are making plans for the entire family to celebrate Christmas on Boxing Day this year. I cannot help but think that they are not expecting the same opportunity a year from now ...

On the flip side, my friend that was laid off at this time last year has found a better job and has never felt so happy and valued as an employee.

Another friend who's broken heart was so raw that she could not even speak of it ... is moving on and is rebuilding herself and starting over. New and improved.

A year can feel like a very long time. I often look back at 'a year ago today' to celebrate that which I have overcome and appreciate the present tense of my life. The years that mark loss, heart break and devastation are tough. One cannot help but look back and feel the anguish all over again. Yet life goes on. One day rolls into the next. The calendar pages turn and eventually we have to bring out a new calendar full of empty boxes.

It has been a very long year, yet it has sped by all too fast. I do not even want to guess what the next year has in store. Sometimes a person is better off being surprised.

Inhaling

Yesterday was a day of 'high output'. I spent a lot of my words talking. To adults. Throughout the 'quiet time' of our Daycare Morning and all evening. I talked.

This morning ... I read. Quietly. Alone. I found inspiration at every turn.

Glennon at Momastery.com wrote of the lesson she learned at the end of a very hard year (click here: "The Music is Louder Than the Crying").

Chrissy at "Life With Greyson and Parker" reminded me that the lessons we have to about perspective (click here: "Great Unexpectations").

Anna over at "An Inch of Gray" sent me over to read this post about the Christmas Story as you have never heard it.

I can't top that. I can't even comment because these writers say it so eloquently and tie it all up at the end with a neat little bow.

I'm just breathing in the morning. Follow the links on this page to take you on the journey that I have travelled this morning.

Tomorrow ... I am going to 'exhale'.

I'm in Love ... (a little about the Favorite Men in my life)

I turned on my most favorite music first thing yesterday morning and it set the tone for the day. I highly recommend clicking on this link and pressing 'play' - Jeffery Straker is my second newest Favorite Man (after my New Hairstylist, of course).

My Daycare Family was not quite as enamored with my choice of music (we are a little bit hooked on Patty Shukla at the moment) but it made me happy and I don't think that they had a problem with a Happy Me.

'Birchbark Canoe' is a dreamy waltz and the song seeped deep into my soul and my heart started beating to the beat of the music. I picked up my little one-year-old (who am I kidding? I was probably holding him anyway) and we danced...

We danced around the toys in the living room. We danced up and down the hallway. We pivoted and swirled. I taught him 'dance position' and we rose and fell to the heartbeat of the music that enveloped my soul. It was heavenly ...

The other kids noticed what was going on and my girls started moving and swaying to the music along with us. I noticed my little two-year-old mimicking the 'rise and fall' (that apparently I did without thinking) of the waltz.

Music changes the mood within a room. When it seeps into the soul of who you are, music has the ability to transform you. I was very much in need of a transformation. Thank you, Jeffery Straker!

I picked up the phone before I had a chance to talk myself out of it (or simply forget) and I booked myself a dance lesson. As luck would have it, there was an opening last night. Perfect! Hot on the tail of a new hair style and at the end of a Daycare Day that did not have me pulling said hair out of my head.

Immediately after making that call, I went to Jeffrey's website and bought/downloaded his newest CD and Christmas single. Ahhh!! If I wasn't in heaven before, I was reaching new heights. I burnt a CD and would bring a little piece of heaven with me as I drove to my lesson (and perhaps bring it into the studio with me so we could dance to the soundtrack that was the backdrop to my day).

Best laid plans sometimes go awry. Especially when tending to about nine other things at the same time. The burning process did not happen and I had nothing but a virgin CD to accompany me on my way to my lesson.

Have no fear, the dance studio's owner has also discovered this amazing talent so we could still dance to the beat of Jeffery Straker. But really ... with the amazing talent, personality and charisma of my Dance Instructor, we could probably dance to 'The Wheels on the Bus' (my exposure to music is highly affected by my one to four year old crowd) and have just as much fun. Yes. Another Favorite Man in my life ...

It has felt a small bit wonderful to pull my thoughts out of the challenges of my Daycare Day  and tend to that-which-fuels-my soul.

A Hair Stylist that made me laugh like I have not laughed in a very long time ... led to a haircut that (I believe) I can live with. A day with Jeffery Straker filled my heart and soul ... led to an evening of dance and movement with my Dance Instructor that filled up the remaining nooks and crannies.

"There is an Indian Belief that everyone is in a house of four rooms: A physical, a mental, an emotional and a spiritual. Most of us tend to live in one room most of the time, but unless we go into every room everyday, even if only to keep it aired, we are not complete."

~ Rumer Godden

I spent time in each of my four rooms within the past 24 hour period and I feel fulfilled, happy and content. I wish you a day of good housekeeping. Turn on some music that makes you 'feel'. Sing, dance and go where the music takes you. I think you will be glad that you did. 

Here is a suggestion from my little bag of tricks. It is a rerun of an earlier recommendation but it is a music video that brings me a little bit of happy into the Christmas season:

P.S. Side note to the other 'three favorite' men in my life (ahem ... My Three Sons). Nothing personal. But just for today, you have been upstaged. Perhaps each of you could change your career aspirations to include Hair Stylist; Singer/songwriter/piano player; and Dance Instructor, and this blog could be about you!

Facing Fears - The Haircut

Sometimes ... it feels good to simply indulge yourself in a purely indulgent whim. It feels even better when you stumble upon a person who emanates a love-of-their-profession. You sit back and trust them because they exude a sense of pride and perfection that make you feel safe.

Yes. I am talking about getting my hair cut. Again.

I had no idea what I wanted done with my hair. I simply knew that I didn't want 'short'. It took four months for my bangs to reach my eyebrows. I wasn't going back there.

I simply said that I was trying to grow my hair out. I didn't want my hair to resemble that-which-I-was-sporting at that moment in time. I simply wanted a style that made it appear that I looked this way on purpose.

He talked and felt his way through the mop on my head. He made me laugh as we made our way through the next few hours. I felt safe and secure in his hands because I felt that he heard me. He really heard me.

I did not tell him the horror story of my last haircuts-in-quick-succession. As one hour turned into two, I eventually told him that my hair had been growing for close to four and a half months and he expressed sheer horror at the shortness-that-my-hair had seen. He made me feel justified in my hairdresser phobia.

As he worked on my hair, I heard a voice behind me. I was turned away from the mirror so I couldn't see a face. But that voice. I knew that voice.

The voice kept talking and I thought 'she reminds me of my niece'. That is why I thought the voice was familiar. Until ...

... she started talking about 'hair school'. Then it hit me. She was the girl that was responsible for Part One of the Two Part bad-haircut of the Summer of 2013!!

I was relieved that I did not go into a rant-about-my-previous-haircuts the moment I sat down. I had a talk with myself before I went in for my appointment and reminded myself that when I put down one hairdresser's skill, I am also speaking to another hairdresser who knows what it is like to be on the opposite end of the scissors. "Be gentle" was my mantra ... do not insult the one-with-the-scissors.

I was careful not to give myself away. Do hairdressers-in-training never forget a head of hair? They are working on so many different people, with so much new information coursing through their brains ... do they have room to remember a set of hair follicles?

I was quiet. I was very quiet. Until the end. "How does it feel?" the current-love-of-my-life asked me. I started to rake through my hair and stopped myself. Oh no! This hairdresser-in-training was watching me. What if she remembered my mannerisms? My New Hairdresser (yes! I am keeping him!!) saw me hesitate and urged me to indulge myself and see how it felt. How it really felt.

It feels fine. I woke up this morning and it still feels good. My reflection didn't laugh back at me or mock me in any way.

I got my hair cut. And I think I like it!

Back view only because the front view comes with a face. This guy was great, but he could only work miracles with my hair...

As our time together wound down to a close, my New Hairdresser started talking about our future together. We will keep trimming the bottom until the top and the sides catch up. I told him that I had no idea what I wanted the end result to be and he assured me that we will aim for shoulder length and see where to go from there. He gave me his card. He wants me to call him. Our first 'date' instilled a sense of trust that I have not know for quite some time ...

To my Hairdresser-in-Training: "Listen and watch this master ... he can teach you many things that they don't cover in hair school. Do not be afraid to let down your guard and absorb the wisdom that those have walked before you can teach you. You are in good hands. Trust them ..."

I felt like a victorious Arnold Schwarzenegger as I walked out of the salon last night saying, "I'll be back ..."

Fifteen Days

It's getting just a little too close to Christmas...

I went through the motions and put up decorations and lights. Then I retreat to the far corner of the house when the house is still at the end of a long day and I don't absorb the goodness of the 'light'.

I am trying very hard to fulfil a Christmas promise and work on one-chapter-per-day for my dad's family's collection of memories. I am (sort of) succeeding. I still need to go back and fix up some chapters but I am taking baby steps. I am approximately one quarter of the way through ... there is a long way yet to go, but I am further ahead than when I started.

I have been puttering away with my Christmas cards. The Christmas correspondence is the one aspect of this season that fuels me. I love this time of year because I correspond with people all over the continent and I don't have to leave my home to do so. I  had such great fun when I started my cards. I played my most favorite music, I sipped on a beverage that went perfect with the season and I wrote. It was a most perfect beginning ...

'All of the above' transpired on a weekend. A weekend that I didn't have to work. At all.

I got the hard work (lights and decorating) done on the Friday night. I dove into the Book Project all guns blazing on the Saturday that followed. It felt good. Then Sunday, it was all wrapped up in a bow when my cards started coming together.

Then the world intruded.

I went out for coffee with a friend and it hasn't been the same since. I'm not blaming the coffee. Nor the friend. It is simply the fact that 'life happens'. A person must pull their head out of what is all-consuming and live life in the moment you are in. That moment will never present itself again.

It started with coffee. It ended with work.

I savored every moment of my most-ideal-weekend. Then I walked smack dab into 'last week' and I was blind sided.

It was challenging on every level. Then I worked all weekend. This new week got off to a better start but there are underlying issues that I have not dealt with. I have a choice to make here. I must either take a stand or else learn to find a way to live with the situation-at-hand. I'm mulling ...

I have two days off before Christmas. I have plans for one of those days. I have one day to do-all-I-need-to-do before Christmas. I have fourteen evenings at my disposal. Do the math, girl. Do the math!

I have done a little calculating and I have come up with one formula. For tonight and tonight only. I made myself an appointment. I am going to indulge myself in tending to my inner Cinderella. I may not have the pretty wardrobe to go with it at the end of the evening ... but I hope to have a little bit of that false sense of self esteem by not cringing when I look at my reflection in the mirror.

I know that this has absolutely nothing to do with Christmas. It is vanity at its worst. But the part of Christmas that I have been dreading the most? Leaving the house. Socializing. Getting together with family and friends.

I have let myself go. It is a slippery slope because I could very easily slide into a place where I just don't care. When a person doesn't care any more, it becomes very easy to want to curl up under a blanket and not come out until the metamorphosis into a butterfly is complete.

I am in a cocoon stage and I need to be a butterfly.

A butterfly has wings to soar and discover the world in a way it never could as a caterpillar. I need to find my wings. I am going to go and look for them in a beauty salon.

And when I find them? I will soar. I will do this 'Christmas Thing' in my own unique way. Don't expect much, people. I am who I am and I can't be more than that. But I'll work with what I have and see where it takes me.

This butterfly-in-waiting has fifteen days to fly to new heights. Ready, set, GO!

Happy Monday ... I Survived Another Weekend

I made it through my working weekend.

I was sleeping soundly by 8:00 p.m. both nights and had absolutely no extra-curricular life whatsoever. No Christmas cards written, no phone calls made or received and I barely spoke to My Youngest (but I did stay up past 7:30 last night to complete a conversation that we started).

I was aided and abetted through this Arctic Winter Weekend with the assistance of my Second Son. Lucky for me (not so lucky for him perhaps?), he (and his girlfriend) had planned on working on their farm all weekend (which is about a half hour past my place-of-work). So rather than starting up two vehicles, headed in the same direction in near -50 weather, I hitched a ride with them. It worked like a charm (at least for me it did).

It meant that my work hours were defined by someone other than myself or my boss. Seven hours on Saturday. Eight hours on Sunday. Pretty close to full-time employment. I should be rich ... (trust me, money is not everything!!).

It was a successful weekend for My Son & His Girlfriend. They were eager to share pictures of their accomplishments with me on the way home. I knew it was a mistake. I looked down. In the back seat of a moving vehicle. For no more than five minutes. But it was a bad decision...

I thought I was okay. Until we got  home. I just wanted to go to bed.

No matter what is going on, I always tend to my two basic needs. Food and sleep. I am not deprived in either of these. I had to smile when I read these words "Remember, when you are hungry and sleep-deprived, it is a meltdown waiting to happen" in a Mountain Wings issue entitled "Your Tantrums". Unbeknownst to the reader, he was writing about how to deal with a toddler's behaviour. But it speaks to many.

Life is busy. It is a fact of life. At a bare minimum, ensure you are adequately fed and rested. And I really liked this advice too: "It helps to take a nap during the day".

The older I get, the more child-like I become. Every day when I lay my Little People down for a nap, I tell them "You don't know how lucky you are ...". Oh, to have someone dictate my needs and schedule time for a nap into my day. It is little wonder that I am having a tough time with the "NO nap" ruling from one of my parents. She has destroyed my life with those two words. The fact that I have not heeded her orders is of little consolation because the 'joy factor' of un-guilty pleasure has been stolen from me.

Five more working days until the weekend. A one-day weekend. But I will take it.

Happy Monday to All! (and to all ... a good nap).