I Think I Want to Start Smoking

Many mornings, while I am making my first cup of coffee, I gaze out of our kitchen window and see our neighbor on their front doorstep having a morning cigarette. She is doing nothing else. She is simply outside, gazing into space or nature or checking out the weeds in the flower garden for all I know. She is still. She is outside. She is smoking.

It is a serene sight. It makes me want to smoke.

There are a lot of pros to this idea:

• you must smoke outdoors (in most cases)
• the smoke acts as a natural mosquito repellent 
• your body naturally craves this forced down-time
• long, deep inhales followed by consciously exhaling
• it is a forced work break
• in social situations, it is a reason to step aside for a while
• it is a break as long as the cigarette lasts - not too long, not too short
• if I could smoke instead of eat, I could fit back into my clothes in due time

Yes, I know. The con list is longer, more logical and scientifically proven to win any debate on the matter. The cons win. Hands down. But what could a person substitute for smoking to gain the benefits?

Stepping outside, just to breathe the air, listen to the birds and watch the clouds is so alluring. Yet I don't take that one small step. It's too hot/cold/windy/rainy. There are too many bugs. The cats will want to go outside with me.

The only thing my body seems to naturally crave is food, coffee and bathroom breaks. I multitask whenever I do "any of the above". I turn on the TV/check emails/grab my phone or a number of other distractions when my body is simply telling me to STOP. 

The only time I catch myself breathing deeply is when I'm in way over my head within my little home office. I breath deeply a lot. Not the quite the same as taking that long, deep breath on our deck. At least I'm breathing.

I manage socializing when I must. In fact in most cases I actually enjoy it. Even more true, is the fact that those whose ears I am talking off may quite possibly wish I did smoke so I would know when to end a conversation. Inserting a natural pause into a social setting could benefit mankind.

When I do take a break, I either stop too long or not long enough. I grab a bite to eat, turn on the TV and either stop only long enough to inhale what is on my plate or I shut down entirely. On the days I stop cold, only the sound of a ringing phone, incoming text message or email spur me back into my office.

Replacing eating with a bright new habit would be such a boon. The comfort I get from chewing, savoring, swallowing and going back for more food really, really makes me wish I smoked. I have a feeling this is part of the allure into this deadly habit. 

Dancing. Those were the days. I would turn on the music and simply dance. I would practise dance steps, technique and/or new choreography. Music filled the air and I was lost in the moments. There was no room for any other thoughts when I was in the dance studio. It was like walking into Cheers, where everyone knew my name. Everyone was united in a common interest and quest to move to the beat of whatever music was playing.

It could be somewhat foolish looking to start dancing outside on my deck. But hey! "Dance like no one is watching" is something I've heard somewhere.

It is probably healthier than smoking.

P.S. The high cost of dancing, the great discomfort of wearing dance shoes, the need to update my wardrobe, my work schedule and the fact that my most favorite dance studio in the world closed down has eliminated dancing as a replacement for smoking. I may start smoking after all ...

Joy Spotting

I have stepped back from writing until I could refocus and see life through a different lens. Is it a coincidence that I started spotting joy after an eye appointment yesterday? Are my new glasses helping me see everything better? Perhaps ...

I didn't get my new (replacement) specs until the end of my eye appointment, which was followed by a dentist appointment a few hours later.

After turning the ringer off on my phone, I purposely looked up. I watched and listened to my surroundings. 

The first thing I focused on was a family of three - a mom and three children. One makes a lot of assumptions when people watching and I found myself believing these three were siblings and the adult was the mom. What I saw, was three children simply being themselves. 

The oldest hovered in the toy/book area with the youngest. The youngest was captivated by the books. Putting one away before pulling out another, sitting at the child sized table and taking in all there was to see within the pages. No hurry. Simple enjoyment. The middle child sat on the mother's knee. 

Each child was content in the moment they were in. The child who appeared to need the closeness of a parent was not being forced to join the others, go play or even be any further away from comfort than they needed to be. The oldest was not engaged in an active caregiver roll. My impression was that the oldest was kind of grateful for a younger sibling which gave them the excuse to play with the toys. The youngest was content in their independence, yet secure in the knowledge they were not alone. Siblings, comfort and safety was an arm's length away.

Bliss. Pure bliss. To watch a young family simply "be" together. 

Meanwhile, other patients were checking in and I simply sat back and absorbed the light rapport and kindnesses that were volleyed back and forth between patients and receptionists. Good manners, good humor, gentle words lightly seasoned with laughter. 

It was nothing. But it was everything.

The past three years, I have ventured out of the house as little as possible. When I did leave the security of home, I was armed with a face mask, hand sanitizer and a very healthy dose of physical distance between those inhabiting the same space. Many others wore similar armor. 

We can witness people's smiles again. Children can play with toys and books in a public space. The underlying fear of exposure to a force we could not see but was evidenced all around us has abated.

As I sat back and simply inhaled the moments watching people be people, I refocused on the joy of simple pleasures. People being people. Together. 

When we isolate ourselves and our main source of information is the news and news feeds we invite into our existence, we are seeing only a very narrow vantage point of an entire panoramic view. 

When our personal lives become focused on that-which-is-out-of-our-control, it is extremely hard to find the courage to let go and let life unfold. Life is a delicate house of cards. When we think we know the forecast, we try to find a way to manage the aftermath. Even when we aren't certain of the chain of events that may or may not take us down that road.

I have become hyper-focused on far too many situations that are out of my control. When I left the house yesterday, looked up and into the world and focused on the moment I was in. It was good.

It is time to focus on joy again. 

Week Days = Weak Days

My life depletes me.

I feel the constant pull, tug and drag of to-do's; should-do's; must-do's; and want-to-do's at every turn.

I was catapulted into the week at hand with (what felt like) a hundred things pulling and tugging at me the moment I returned from my weekend oasis.

Cats. Cat hair. Cat litter. Cat sneaked under my covers. Again. 

Work. Phone. Work. Email. Work. Texts.

Yard.

I left my weekend oasis fully charged and ready for the week.

Monday depleted me. Tuesday took what was left over.

One deadline will be met today. Six more are looming.

Wednesday used to feel like my "power day". I was back in the swing of things and running on all cylinders. Lately, I feel as if I'm running on all cylinders all the time.

My week days make me weak in the knees.

I'm ready for a holiday.

Here We Go Again

I think I found a piece of myself this past weekend.

I found it while savoring some solitude in my little oasis away from home

I hope I can hold onto whatever this is once I step back into my regularly scheduled life.

I don't want to go home.

I love this little piece of heaven right here on earth.

I'll be back!

I know I have the same easy feeling within my home,

but it is a relief to spend time away from my work that lives with me 

... and all the cat hair.

Oh, the cat hair.

May you find a small piece of heaven somewhere within your day-to-day world.

Firing on All Cylinders

I feel open and receptive to the messages the world has to offer at the moment. My "openness" ebbs and flows with the tidal waves of living and I am always grateful for the moments of clarity that seem to appear when I am able to be still, listen and absorb all at the same time. 

That is exactly where I am in this moment.

As I tuned into CBC television to await Charles' coronation, a podcast by Gavin Crawford called "Let's Not Be Kidding" was advertised. When googling Gavin's name, the first line of his bio states: "If laughter really was the best medicine, Gavin Crawford would have cured his mother of Alzheimer’s disease." (https://www.cbc.ca/listen/cbc-podcasts/1387-let-s-not-be-kidding-with-gavin-crawford

He had me at "hello". Thank you Gavin, for your first hand recollection of oh-so-relatable memories and situations, and also to your co-starring cast of those who are or have walked the path of caring for a loved one with any form of dementia. Adding a dose of humor to a disease that isn't the least bit funny helps make the situation more palatable. Hearing first hand, of those who have walked a mile in these shoes is truly a gift. 

Once I listened to Episode One, I was hooked. I listened to all seven episodes concurrently (and made a few salads while I listened - the most painless cooking I've done in a long time). Thank you, Gavin. Thank you!!

An email from the library, reminding me that my book is due in a few days propelled me straight toward Michelle Obama's book "The Light We Carry" this morning.

I put down Michelle's book last weekend to open Harry's book "Spare" and had forgotten the way Michelle's writing spoke to me. The moment I reopened the book this morning, I was hooked. She had me at "Good morning!". 

The only pitfall to reading Michelle's book is the tangents of thought I get carried away with. Any stories relating to her parents, the way her mom was raised and the way Michelle was mothered had me comparing and contrasting my own personal memories of my own siblings, along with Mom and her siblings. "Life back then didn’t revolve around kids. For the most part they were seen and not heard", Mom said. "It’s more like they were heard of and never seen" her sister added. Which triggered a long list of thoughts and perceptions as I compared Michelle's lens with Mom's ...

It didn't end there. As Michelle continued to write, she continued to ignite memories, thoughts and words that I'd like to sit still with one day. I grabbed a notepad, scribbled down my thoughts and filled two (small) pages. Wow! I may still have some inspiration and words within me after all. Thank you, Michelle. Thank you for helping me find my own light!

 Ping! Ping! Ping! My brain was on fire and I was having a hard time absorbing Michelle's words, so I got up and got some chili simmering in the slow cooker. Wow. Salads AND chili!! "If I cook it, WILL they come?" I wondered as I prepped a few salads to go and a few more to stay. I'm really on fire!!

I cannot wait to finish Michelle's book so I can focus on Harry again. I have an audiobook/library book combo so I'm listening to the first part of his book as I drive, while I fast forwarded to "Part 3" of his physical book. He has a lot to say and I don't want to miss a word. In fact, I'd really like to chat with him in person after the day he had yesterday, at his dad's coronation.

The clock is ticking the morning away and I still have a few things I'd like to get done before the clock strikes twelve. I feel like Cinderella but my clock is chiming at noon instead of midnight. And after all I've been learning about royalty, I'm sure not waiting for Prince Charming's arrival on the scene.

So much to do, so much to think, so much to write. I feel alive!

Thank you, thank you, thank you to those who fired me up and reignited some spark within me that has been starved for oxygen. Thank you!

A World Event; a Family Divided

I have a fascination with the Royal Family so decided to camp out in front of the TV last night and sleep my way through King Charles' coronation.

After Queen Elizabeth died, I watched several documentaries of her life and thought I had a glimmer of an idea what to expect. What I forgot is the running commentary and skip-to-the-highlights reel within said documentaries. 

Watching a coronation unfold in real time, while drifting in and out of sleep is not something I will do again any time soon.

First of all, with all of those robes and wardrobe changes (Charles had as many costume changes as Cher and none of them quite as fascinating), I had a very hard time keeping track of the star of the show. At one groggy point of the ceremony, I saw a balding grey haired man in a robe take a sip out of a golden goblet. I automatically assumed it was the new King. Then he turned around and shared the contents of the goblet with a few more people after giving them (what looked like a chip) what I believe must have been "host" and this was part of a communion (?). 

I have not fact checked one iota of what I'm writing and I was in and out of sleep and various stages of grogginess but it was pretty hard to follow in a dream like state.

Where were William and family? Where was Harry? Where was the rest of the family? Why were they not panning the audience with the cameras to showcase the supporting cast? Why can't I understand anything that is being said? Remember, I was mostly asleep throughout.

When I finally woke up and stayed awake, they were saying the Lord's Prayer. That's a good sign, I thought. That must mean things are winding up. I was wrong. There were a few more hymns, a few more prayers and a blessing to go. All I could think was the Royal Training must begin at a very young age for William and Kate's children to be so well behaved for such a long ceremony.

Throughout the ceremony, I had intertwined the soundtrack of the coronation within a dream I was having. I was sitting with Mom in a huge churchlike place. People everywhere, hymns, people coming and going. The performance went on and on and on. At one point, I looked over at Mom and she had an unlit cigarette in her mouth and she dryly said, "I think I'm going to start smoking again".

I was relieved when the narrative of the commentators came back and I chastised myself for losing a night's sleep over something that will be replayed and rehashed over the next long while (honestly, I didn't lose much sleep - my dream with Mom and me in attendance was much, much longer and more detailed and included cameos of Boris Johnson and Barack Obama - don't ask ... it was a long and complicated dream).

I have been reading and listening to Harry's book "Spare", thus Harry was very much in my thoughts. I haven't finished his book yet but as he recalls his memories, thoughts and feelings as he grew up and beyond, I can only see him as the individual I perceive him to be by his honest recount. Diana was a year and a half younger than me and right from the moment she married Charles, I slipped her shoes on for size and knew I wouldn't want to walk a block in them. To read/listen to her youngest son's first hand narrative of his life and not be a larger part of his father's coronation felt wrong to me. All wrong.

When any belief system or set of rules creates a clear cut "you are in or you are out" chasm in a family, I tend to be suspicious and question the source of the division. The rules the Royal Family must adhere to, all the while, living life under the wide lens camera with a bounty on pictures that create a story that sells papers makes me marvel at the job Queen Elizabeth did for 70 years.

While all the pomp and circumstance was interesting and news worthy, my heart went out to those who were not a part of the Buckingham Palace balcony scenario. I saw a family divided and putting on a good show for the world. 

As Mom once said, "A person never knows what goes on behind closed doors". We will never truly know what it is like to walk in a Royal's shoes and maybe we should be grateful to live our quiet little lives without public scrutiny.

Easy Like Friday Morning

I have been meandering through the morning like it is a weekend. And that's okay.

This week has been peppered with diversion and there are no looming deadlines, payrolls or big tasks to tend. Instead, unexpected things-to-do have cropped up and I jumped right on them so they didn't have time to sit in yet another things-to-be-finished pile. 

"Like ripping off a Band-Aid", I said aloud as I stroked items off my list before the list was written. Yes. That IS the way to tackle the unending requirements of my job and life in general.

I did what had to be done, tackled some yard work and washed a few windows. It is completing the added tasks that have added a little bounce back into my step. The above and beyond.

Going above and beyond was something I felt good about within my past jobs. Making a customer service experience feel as good as one can make it and writing daycare newsletters and blog posts were the things that brought joy into my 9 - 5, Monday to Friday life. 

Going above and beyond has gone out the window lately. Maybe not. Maybe the fact that I am employed by friends and family dilute the extra little things I do (previously referred to as "above and beyond") as simply that which one expects of themselves.

The cost of working for those you know well is the personal involvement that takes a slow and gradual toll. I have been working with aging seniors and been a witness to their slow decline. 

I can feel where Mom was coming from when she spoke of not wanting to be in a community of "old people". We often laughed at our 80+ year old mom refer to others her age as old. She has the last laugh. Aging has less to do with the number of candles on one's birthday cake and everything to do with the internal dialogue and fate one has been handed that defines how one manages those senior years.

Mom saw the writing on my wall when I started working with seniors six years ago. She knew where this road would take me. I'm managing it well enough. But ... but ...

It is taking a toll. I rolled with the punches this week and reveled in the relative ease I felt without must-meet-deadlines. I was revitalized by going a little above and beyond the call of duty. But ... but ...

I'm ready for my weekend one day ahead of schedule.

Thus, I have been coasting through my morning like it is Sunday instead of Friday. I'm just going to go with it. Let us rewrite the song ... "♪ Easy like Friday morning.. ♪"

May your Friday morning feel easy on you ...