Distractions

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There’s a million and one distractions begging for my attention. It’s easy to be led astray. I have to ask myself again and again, what difference would they make in my life as each one comes up. Otherwise my days would be lost in the endless scrolling for information of no consequence. Mark Zuckerberg did me no favours for coming up with Facebook. I was happy enough before, not knowing everyone was having fun and travelling the world. That is everyone except me.

Do I really care how many friends they have, who they are and what they had for dinner? I never did before and I don’t think I really do now. Still, my fingers are itchy and want/need to scroll. They need to know. Not all distractions are bad or wasteful. Yesterday I discovered the page of Planet Gayle. It was a delightful find. It’s a daughter’s tribute to her wonderful and weird mother. Later in the day I came across Deanna Dikeman’s Instagram account. Seeing her photos made me want to take up my camera again. For 27 years, she took photographs as she waved good-bye and drove away from visiting her parents at their home in Sioux City, Iowa.

There are the good and bad of distractions. They can gobble up precious time which could have been better used. Then there are times when we need distractions that can trigger our troubled mind into a better place. It is up to me which way to go. I can use it or lose it.

On Planet Gayle

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Saskatoon is melting in February. It’s wet and messy. I imagine there’s alot of people happy with the warm temperature. Warm is nice but I know it’s climate change. I wonder what will it mean. I wonder what kind of spring and summer we will have. More uncertainties to deal with. Surprisingly I am not feeling too bad. I am not the sad sack that I have been lately. Perhaps I got off on the right foot this morning.

I learned of a woman named Gayle Noble on Instagram (@planet.gayle) this morning. Her daughter also has a Facebook page called Planet Gayle to share her mother’s uniqueness. This is how she is described:

This is my absolutely weird, and absolutely wonderful mom, Gayle. She was larger than life. Everything she did was intense. She loved intensely.

I could not be anything other than being cheered looking and reading all the posts. I encourage you to go and read about this wonderful unique human being.

Morning Sickness

There was none of that comfy warm snuggling into the quilt this morning. There was nothing but the weight of the world on my soul and toxic thoughts making circuits in my brain. All that made me nauseous. I want to throw up. It was better to get up and put a stop to it. Though I think I know all the tricks to help myself, I still like to search for the perfect solution.

I know that everything feels worse than they actually are when I am in this mode. I do not fret much but I rather not be languishing in my misery either. So I do dress up and show up. I’ve even drawn my eyebrows in. No earrings yet. My house feels like a disaster. It feels as cluttered as my head. I’ve cleaned the upstairs and downstairs batheroom. Dusted, sprayed, wiped and gathered up the near empty cleaning solution bottles. I am not feeling better but I am working on it.

It cheers me to see videos of the people protesting in Minnesota. It’s good to see their passion for their rights. At the same time it disturbs me to see they had to go to that length and it still goes on. The memory of seeing Renee Good and Alex Pretti getting shot makes me sick. There’s nothing I can do except maybe turn off the news. Feelig sick and helpless does not help. Time for a coffee break. Tomorrow is another day.

Heart Month

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February is heart month. I am letting that guide me through my days. Though Iife feels bland and senseless to me in these moments, I need not announce it or rain on someone else’s parade. This is the space to unload and work through those dark and messy things. What are feelings anyways? Are they real? What if I don’t have those feelings? How will I be? These are the questions that pop up from remembering The Work of Byron Katie.

I can be good at setting goals and intentions but not so great at carrying them out. It’s like people making New Year’s resolutions and dropping them by February. It’s difficult to follow through, day after day. It’s easy to lose heart. It is easy to fall into “I don’t care.” It is easy to throw up my hands and give up. I’ve done that numerous times. I’ve gotten back on track again many times. The thing I don’t do is make progress. I don’t pick up where I had left off. I always go back and start again at the beginning. It’s easier doing something you’ve done before.

How am I going to get out of that rut? How do I walk a different path so that I don’t fall back into the same hole? I’ve writtin many times about the same problem. I am writing about it again. How can I sing another song? I have the rest of February to wrestle with it. I am going to follow through.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN FIVE CHAPTERS
I
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost … I am hopeless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
II
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I’m in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
III
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in … it’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
IV
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
V
I walk down another street.
Portia Nelson

Staying Positive

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It’s February 1, 2026. A new month, a new day and another beginning. It’s cloudy and only -10℃. I think we had freezing rain overnight again. It’ll be slippery as hell out. Can you tell I am not in the best of spirits? I think I have a low grade depression. I think my iMac is, too. It’s stuttering, annoying the heck out of me. I am treading carefully, not wanting to slide off the low grade into the deep zone.

I was never one of those who woke up on the right side of the bed and bounced whistling into the shower. I curled and nestled deeper into the covers and didn’t rise till after 7 this morning. But there were times in the past when I looked forward to the morning going to bed the night before. I have it in me to be exuberant and joyful. I’m going through a bit of a snag right now. I find it hard to move. I have no desire to move. I’m not struggling but just sinking in my quagmire. I wonder who else is it with me.

I do still have a tiny glimmer within me, that streak of MacGyver. I think I can get out of this. I have to think like him. I have the tools.I have read and listen to all those self-help books on everything. I could probably do a workshop if I have a mind to. And that is the thing – I do have a mind to stay positive. That will be my goal for this February, to find ways to reboot/recharge myself.

I have soup bones souping in the Instant Pot. I must run and throw in a few more things to stir the pot. I hope to come back here again tomorrow.

Endings and Beginnings

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The last day of January and the last day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. It was not a strong or consistant beginning for me. I did not show up every day. However, I came alive in the second half. I’m quite happy with that. I’m here now, dressed, hair combed, earrings and hearing aids in, eyebrows lightly etched in. I’m ready for the last hurrah.

Though I failed to show up every day, I consider this challenge a success. I coaxed my words out of lassitude. I watched as they marched slowly and unsteadily across the screen. It was very rewarding to see them gaining momentum and then to flow smoothly into a post. I’m learning that it’s ok to miss a day or two. The important thing is to get back and try again. I’m learning, too, that my own words can heal. They still smooth and sooth my soul. They need not be many or grand. Simple and few can fill me up.

The pleasure of a challenge comes from sharing with others. Thank you to my fellow participants for their words. I’ve learned much from all of you. Thank you to Paul Taubman, the maestro of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I am not sure what happened but I’ve experienced unusual high traffic on my site this month. What a wonderful feeling to end on.

Tomorrow is February and a new beginning. How will I begin?

In Our Mother’s Closets

January 30th, 2nd last day of the month and of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. It is the end of the day. I am tired. A busy productive day consisting of my sister and I taking our father to see the internal medicine doctor early in the morning.This past year has been many office, walkin-in and ER visits since our mother passed. We are all so vulnerable the first year after a significant death. And more so when the person is 94 and it is a spousal death.

We’ve all worked hard taking care of our father. The doctors commended our efforts. Our father is doing well now. They wouldn’t change a thing. They gave suggestions for possible things to do if such and such arise. And they will set up a follow up appointment in a month’s time. We are pleased that there will be a follow up and hope that it will hold up. Less doctor visits would be good.

There was still a lot of morning left after the appointment. We had planned to work on clearing more of our mother’s clothes before taking dad out for lunch. We hadn’t realized how much more there still was. This time wasn’t as emotionally difficult as the first closet we did last year. I even dare to say it was fun. We had alot of giggles and Oh my gods! as we pull out each item and tried them on. Our mother kept everything in very good condition. She must have kept all the things we had given her for Christmases and Mother’s Days. We never celebrate hers or dad’s birthdays either. We celebrated the kids’, her grandkids’ birthdays.

We got ambitious and went to the downstairs closets after lunch. Wow! There’s no need to go shopping. We could just shop at mom’s. She even kept some of our clothes for us. I pulled out the dress I sewed for my sister for her high school graduation. I had forgotten what it looked like. I couldn’t believe that it was me that sewed that dress. And I did it on my simple Kenmore from Sears. My sister couldn’t quite believe she could still get into the dress. Unfortunately she couldn’t quite zip it up in the back. Just one size too small.

I dropped 2 bags off at the clothing donation place. I have plans of using the cotton blouses to make another logcabin quilt. This one will be for my sister.

Tripping Around the Sun

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I completed another trip around the sun yesterday. The best gift was falling into sleep slumber after my head hit the pillow. I had a few nodding off during the evening movie. Though it was an Oscar Winner, I couldn’t make much sense of it with my little naps here and there. Nothing makes sense to me nowadays. The world is not orderly without my mother as an anchor. Sometimes I feel I’m behaving madly and very badly. I hope my night of sleep have reset me to the best operational mode.

I am not one for birthdays or parties. I don’t like alot of fuss. I can’t explain that myself. Who doesn’t want the celebration of the self? I’m all for that but fuss and attention not so much. Maybe I never had much of that growing up. I’m not used to it. I was born in China. I remembered getting a boiled egg on a birthday. It symbolizes new life, renewal and good fortune. And a chicken drumstick symbolizes a blessing for prosperity and a promise that the person will never go hungry in the symbolizes a blessing for prosperity and a promise that the person will never go hungry in the future. I remember getting both on birthdays in China. No birthday cakes or gifts.

I left China at age 8. I don’t remember getting anything for birthdays in Canada. Our whole applecart was upset being in a new country and culture. I got invited to some birthday parties. Then there was Christmas and Easter. We didn’t celebrate like the rest of the town. We did get Christmas trees after awhile. My mother made us new clothes for the new year. We didn’t do birthday cakes or Thanksgiving and Christmas turkeys. I felt our foreigness and of looking in from the outside.

Now, I have grown out of all that. We don’t all have to do the same, dress the same, think the same, celebrate the same…Or maybe we do have to do the same and be the same. Look at what is happening south of the border, in Minneapolis. Listen to the witness describing the Alex Pretti killing. It’s like I’m watching a horrible movie. It is not a movie we can step out of. But I have to step out, shut out, and turn off the world now and then. It’s time for a birthday lunch. We’re doing Japanese.

The Next Thing to Do

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A cloudy misty January 28th. Only -18℃. Almost tropical weather for us northern snowbirds. My head feels a bit like pillow stuffings. I had one of those sleepless nights, not terribly restless but not restful either. I probably slept too much the other night. Didn’t go to the gym yesterday either. Then there’s all that thinking and ruminating. I was never any good at solving human problems. I was never any good at communications. I was never good at being open and clear. I hate hurting people’s feelings. I end up hurting my own. I think I am what you would call a self-suffering fool.

You know what they say about fools. They keep doing the same thing, expecting a different outcome. I’m guilty of that. I’ve been trying to unbecome myself for a long time with no luck. I’ve read Joe Dispenza’s Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself a couple of times. I’m still the same self-suffering fool. Knowledge without real work does not create long lasting change. So I continue to experience these episodes of suffering and sleepless nights. I guess it’s not a bad thing. It wakes me up. I need to change my ways. I need to stop doing the same old, same old. I have to shake things up a little. Discomfort for everyone can be illuminating.

Daily Ranting

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It’s a balmy sunny -21℃ January 27th. I should be full of vim and vinegar but I am not. Our flip flopping weather and the world at large have taken a toll on me. I slept in till almost 9 am. Now, I’m sitting, heavy and sodden with a sourdough pancakes and ham breakfast. I’m wondering what I shall I write for today’s Ultimate Blog Challenge. Having seen Downfall, a movie about Hitler’s last days a couple of evenings ago, I can’t help but see the similiarity of what is happening today in the U.S. Then and now, so many people are so admiring and loyal to Hitler and Trump even when their evil is so obvious. And I can’t help but think of the Vietnam war, having watched Platoon last night.

Clearly, I am thinking too much. But is it bad or wrong? Should I not be thinking and questioning? My thinking still led me further to remembering Jonestown. And I wondered if we’ve been gassed, sprayed with agent orange and drank the kool aide. I know I am thinking and talking crazy. It’s not my fault. The world is crazy. And crazy things have happened. I’m thinking and working out how best to live without going crazy. I really meant to write about how daily practices help maintain and improve mental health. I’ve wandered far off the path and ranted instead. Maybe tomorrow I can steer myself back in.