Simplicity

Simplicity. Personally, I think that is at the core of my well being. To create a life where I don't fall into the trap of worrying about things I have no control over or that really don't matter in the whole scheme of things. 

Sounds simple.

Life is never as simple as one would hope. That's a good thing. We need contrasts in order to help recognize the goodness of overcoming life's challenges. 

Working from home creates a complexity under this roof which is hard to ignore. One thing I have done absolutely right is to enclose my work space within a room-with-a-door. Unfortunately, that very room looks like this at the moment. Every square inch of flat work space is covered with works-in-progress:

Even more unfortunate, is the "spillage" into other areas of the house:

 

Can I just say "Aaaaaaaack!!"

The hard question I must ask myself right now is "Am I running away from my overwhelmed life when I head out to my home-away-from-home?" or "Am I running toward a simpler life?"

A little of both.

I must contend with the excess under my home-at-home. A life of simplicity necessitates dealing with that which is weighing me down. I DID rehome an entire house worth of excess belongings. Now I must deal with my home office. Having an office which is overtaking our home is not my definition of a simple,well defined work space.

In the meantime, I will let Glennon Doyle's words guide me. Just keep going. I know her message is much deeper than dealing with an overwhelmed office. But it fits my state of mind when I enter the room that has the power to overwhelm me. 

This framed quote is the ONLY personal item within my home office. 

"Just keep going, please ..."

Aspiration

I aspire to be ...

I did not realize the power these words held until I read something this morning. The writer of the post said three things set them into motion: inspiration, aspiration or desperation.

Inspiration does not take me far. It is a spark. But a spark does not ignite without good air flow and a little "fanning of the flame" to keep it burning. Inspiration without a defined goal depletes me. I need to work toward an end result. To dream of something bigger than the spark of an idea.

I would have said desperation my driving force until I realized "desperation" has caused me to wake up and take note of a situation which no longer served me. I have sat in limbo making pro/con lists as I mapped out possibilities of where I could go from where I was at. 

To run with no set destination in mind, one doesn't go far. Once one has a defined destination - something to run toward, endless possibilities await.

I have been navigating my life without a map for a lot of years now. Lost at sea. Aimless. Pointless. Drifting. No future hopes, goals or dreams leads to nowhere.

Suddenly, "retirement" is a goal I have in mind. I have found a home I hope to retire in. A physical change, made with intention. I am moving towards the life I aspire to live.

The timeline is flexible but for the first time since Mom asked me about my 10 year plan (almost four years ago), I have found myself smack dab in the middle of a tentative 5 year plan. 

Mom? I have a plan. It feels good. Drifting aimlessly through one's days/months/years is not exhausting. But it certainly isn't life affirming.

I see the life I aspire to live in the not-so-distant future. 

This looks (and feels) like a very good destination to run toward...

Hard Working Hands

“Silent thoughts hold precious moments that last forever. Probably the most ambitious person that ever lived.” 

♫ These hands raised a family, these hands built a home. These hands won the heart of my loved one and with hers they were never alone. If these hands filled their task then what more could one ask. Take a look at these hard working hands ♫

~ “These Hands” sung by Hank Snow – a special tribute to my dad, from my mom

This is a quote from Mom's family's book of memories. Mom asked me to add this to the book as it was going off to press.

Hard working hands were the words that came to mind as I sat down with my coffee to start my day off with a few words.

After two days of deck cleaning, scrubbing, scraping and sanding the current state of my hands cannot be captured by a cell phone camera alone. I didn't even realize how dirty my nail beds were until I glanced down at them this morning. 

I may not be the ambitious person who ever lived but I have been much more ambitious lately, if that counts for anything.

A before/after photo of one of our decks while the cleaning process is in progress

(this is a much better picture than one of my "hard working hands")

Back at Home

The tedium of day-to-day living is so very much more tolerable when one's thoughts are not all wrapped up on the same old, same old.

Weekdays feel a little lighter knowing I have the option of making a quick trip out to my cozy little home-away-from-home.

Work deadlines are being met. Family responsibilities are being tended. Household tasks are getting done ever so much more easily, knowing I don't want them greeting me at the door if I decide to go away for the weekend. 

Appointments, obligations, to-do-lists. Check. Check. Check. Endless lists. 

• Things to take with me next time I head out to our Cozy House.
• A grocery list for my next trip to the aforementioned home.
• A to-do-list, for when I get there.
• Flexible plans that are not plagued with guilt, obligation or duty.

As we head toward a more flexible post-COVID life, I am not feeling overwhelmed. I have found myself smack dab in the middle of where I most want to be. 

A little oasis one hour away from the duties and obligations of my day-to-day life. A reason to tend to all that must be tended within our home and my work world.

As I tended to life-as-I-know-it these past few weeks, it has been with a bounce in my step and lightness in my heart. It feels life affirming to be taking steps towards a tentative and hopeful future.

In fact, it feels so very good that I am already anticipating the weekends when I simply stay home -my #1 Favorite Place to Be. Oh, how I look forward to waking up at home on a weekend and spending some of my newfound ambition on tending to the little things around here.

Home is my most favorite place in the world. Stepping into all the possibilities this second little home-away-from-home has created a wonderful place to dream.

I'm pleased to know I have done what is within my

control to reinstate a more normalized life one day soon.

Less is Less

While going through the process of furnishing our new second home, I went through the house and sifted through excess and duplicate items. I culled all that was not being used and my clothes were not spared.

I now have spare hangers in my closet, more room in my drawers. Yet, when I read an article on "Wardrobe Declutter" this morning it was easy to see there is much more work to be done.

I hope the motivation I have found within my home-away-from home carries over to my home-at-home when I finally spend a weekend here. There is so much more work to be done. 

Living with "less" feels so much lighter. Literally.

I have been weighed down by life for longer than I can put my finger on. I keep thinking back to when it all began. I have been eating my way through my emotions for at least a decade. It is no wonder I had outgrown the larger sized jeans I bought before winter arrived this year.

Life has felt heavy.

Lightening the load around our home has lifted my spirits. Less? Is simply less. And it feels good. 

Closer ... yet so far to go

Guess What I Did

I thought the post I was about to write felt familiar to my fingertips. I started writing, then searched my blog. Yes. Here it is again. 

Life goes around and back and then comes back again. Here is the original post:

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 2020

Echos of Conversations from Yesteryear

Whenever Mom came for a visit, we always lingered over our morning toast and coffee. It was a ritual that was as predictable as the sun coming up in the morning.

On more than one occasion, after I had left the kitchen and returned again, Mom asked, "Guess what I did while you were gone?" She had an expression that dared me to guess correctly so I played the game.

I wasn't able to come up with the answer so she would give me a clue: "You can't see it". As I said, I'm pretty certain we had this conversation before. Even at that, I didn't come up with the correct answer.

She would straighten up in her chair (even more, because her back was always straight and her posture was excellent) and wore the expression of a cat who just ate a canary and reply, "I emptied the crumb tray in your toaster". That tray was always full because Mom may have been the only person who emptied it.

Now? Whenever I empty the toaster's crumb tray, I hear Mom's voice: "Guess what I did while you were gone?"

And in a moment, Mom is right beside me, smiling over my shoulder again.

I love those little memories. They find me when I least expect them.

Here is this morning's picture:

Full circle. Thoughts, patterns, life events, history repeating itself. I'm not talking about toast crumbs any more. Life. 

My youngest has decided to change their name. Yesterday, I pulled out their birth certificate which was a required part of the process. Some missing information, which was news to them, on their original birth certificate unknowingly aligned with their decision to also change their middle name.

A few days ago, we had a brief text conversation about the spelling of their new/old middle name (they have chosen to revert back to the middle name I had originally chosen when they were born) and the question was how to spell it. 

"Would it be "Jordan" or "Jordon" or some other spelling?"

"I believe originally I spelled it Jordan. It is a nod to my dad if you spell it with an 'o'."

The decision to go back to their original middle name. The decision to acknowledge a version of my dad's name with the revised spelling came long before the missing information on their birth certificate aligning with the lack of support which has led to the decision to change their middle name.

Interesting.

On another note, we noticed "Mother's Place of Birth" on the birth certificate. It is the name of the town where I have just purchased a new house I hope to call home when I retire. 

Full circle. Going back to the beginning with a fresh new perspective and starting all over again.

Funny what thoughts can come of emptying the toaster crumbs. I hear Mom's voice, "Guess what I did ..." How I wish I could sit down with some coffee and rye toast and ask her the same question after the quick decision to invest in a potential home to retire in. "Mom ... guess what I did!"

The Things that "Stick"

My mind has been all over the map this morning as I rewind the tape of the weekend past, conversations and trains of thought that have led me to this post.

The small act of making myself a cup of coffee with as few wasted steps as possible led me down the garden path of the maze of memories interwoven into my being. 

I read the book "Cheaper by the Dozen" as a child. I remember the father character of the book being an efficiency expert and how the story wove his efficiency into the tale. It is one of those things that has stuck with me over the years. I recognize the part of me that became "efficient" after reading this book.

Oh, what an amazing world we live in when one can simply google "cheaper by the dozen book efficiency expert" to correlate what one thinks they remember, to Wikipedia - which in fact confirms my memory is not just a made up story in my mind. It is in fact, a fact.

I love when life gives me the opportunity to remember something I thought I forgot.

My aunt asks many questions that provide me with various opportunities to remember little things. "Do you remember living on the farm? Do you remember your dad farming? Do you remember ..." 

To keep myself entertained during our somewhat repetitive conversations, I find myself digging a little digger to refine and explain my answers. I have fond memories of taking supper out to the field during harvest. I remember the picnic basket Mom packed up, the feeling in the air, the memory of food tasting so much better because it came from that picnic basket. Then my memories took me to the time Dad showed us (I don't remember who I was with but I know there was someone with me) how to chaff the wheat, then chew on the kernels of wheat, to see if they were ready to harvest. We were at the bottom of the hill on our farm, by the grain bins. The memory is so vivid, I can almost remember the sky that day...

I spent the past weekend at "The Cute House" we have recently adopted. The house is furnished with history. The kitchen table with a history that goes back as far as my memories; a bench Dad made; an old stool Dad reinforced; the picnic basket (see above) currently holds various household hardware; my brother's old twin bed; not to mention the multitude of items I inherited from Mom's kitchen. Even the items from my home which have been donated to the Cute House have a story, because I don't need them due to what has been replaced from Mom's belongings (crystal wine glasses in my city home verses the dollar-store wine glasses which preceded them).

Memories. To have them. To hold onto them. To be able to retrieve them from the recesses of your mind or be triggered to recall them. Precious. The human brain is a miracle like no other. It is a precious commodity we tend to take for granted when it functions as expected.

The kitchen table on the far right side of this photo resides in my cozy little "home away from home" (that is me in the box, along with Mama Cat, which dates the picture back to the early 1960's)

The oh-so-special picnic basket, along with the potato salad Mom taught me how to make

It is amazing. The little things that "stick" as time goes on. I am grateful beyond words for the memories I have. So many good feelings are triggered. A history I am happy to recall.

It is sad to realize how many people are triggered by less than idyllic remembrances. The things that "stick" are not necessarily all good things. 

I am so very grateful the things that have stuck with me over the course of my life are predominantly warm and fuzzy.