Month: June 2019

LONGINGS AND BELONGING

Saturday morning, 9:37 but already my eyes are heavy with sleep. The sky is very grey, the air humid and heavy. We had more rain last night. We might again today. It’s not difficult to believe that the earth is coming to an end. We are experiencing weather like we’ve never had before. We cannot deny that there is climate change, can we? I am feeling grey and morose but who can blame me.

It would be easy to curl up with my current read, Educated by Tara Westover. It’s very compelling, hard to put down like Wild by Cheryl Strayed. You might disagree as each reader reads through different eyes and experiences. However, this morning I am practicing discipline. I’m trying hard not to give in to my natural inclination of going with the flow of not being in the present moment, not trying, not doing anything. I’m here with my tea tapping my ponderings of this and that.

What I cannot ignore in this minute is Sheba. She’s laying right next to me. She’s not smelling sweet and hasn’t for a while. Maybe I should just bite the bullet and take her into our walk in shower. It’s not as hard to do as it is thinking about it and smelling her. I have enough time before making lunch.

It’s Sunday morning coming down. I’ll try not to dawdle and dwell in the sad song of Johnny Cash and Kris Kristopherson. After all, I haven’t been out on an all night bender. So let me sit and be here, present and full alert, starting my day.

I’m not much of a to-do list maker, having tried numerous times. It only lasts for a few days. I have more success of showing up here consistently. It’s a good place to ponder and ask questions of myself (and you if you are reading). I often do get insights and answers. Seeing thoughts and questions in writing gives me clarity and objectivity. Sometimes the thoughts in print pushes me into action.

Yesterday was such a case. After having said that Sheba stank and needed a bath badly, I thought why don’t I do it now? I had time before lunch. I did just that. First, I showered and dried Sheba, cleaned the shower and then me -all before lunch. It was a bit physically taxing but rewarding for me. She was sweet smelling and sleek after a good brushing. I’m still brushing today. It’s molting season and there’s endless hair coming out with each brush stroke. Heavy big sigh…

It’s the Canada Day long weekend, a national holiday. I’ve never been a fan of holidays. For me there’s this obligation to celebrate and have a good time. Not that I have anything against either, but you see, I’m an immigrant child of immigrant parents. I know I am no longer a child and I’ve been here much longer than I’ve been in my born country. Still, feelings persist. Feelings of missing my tribe and culture. Growing up in small town, Canada, there was very few of my people in town to gather and celebrate. So this feeling of being left out, looking from the outside into another culture left a gnawing feeling of always longing for belonging.  It is not a bad thing. It’s good to recognize one’s feelings. That longing has led me on a search that has led to many wonderful things.

LESSONS LEARNED

My two pairs of pants are shortened and hemmed. Hallelujah! Miracles do happen. It was not so difficult after all. I need not have waited 20 years to do it. Lesson learned. Nothing happens when I am frozen with overwhelmed and indecision. They hung in the closet, gathering dust. So any action, even if it is not the best or perfect, is better than none. Now that I’ve tried them on, I think they’re a tad too short. They’re tighter than when I tried them on last week. Ah, the waxing and waning of the waist line! They might have to go into the donation bag after all. But I will see. I can still let the hem down a bit on each. Maybe I can suck in my tummy.  More work but that’s what I get for not trying them on after pinning. Another lesson learned. So many damn lessons!

That was a few days ago. I ran out of steam and words after that short conversation. That’s how it is. Now I’m back to continue. That is the secret – to keep coming back. Life is not smooth sailing. It’s full of starts, delays, holdups, detours, rerouting, restarting, etc. My garden is the same this year. We had hardly any rain till these last weeks in June. Even the weeds were not growing. There was the cool temperatures. Everything was slow. Then there were the birds and bugs that ate what did come up. I lost half a bed of broccoli and 2 rows of beans never showed. Peas and carrots are seeded in the empty spaces. But my bed of greens is excellent. We had plenty of spinach and lettuce. The spinach is done and new seeds put in for a second crop. The onions are standing straight and tall. The kale is coming up.

So that’s how things are. Some things thrive. Some don’t. There’s evil in the world but there’s also alot of good. Just when I’m really down and despondent about our humanity, I learn of people with huge loving hearts and great courage. Trevor Green’s story moved me to tears. Then there’s Melissa Fung’s speaking On What We Owe. That made me put away my small troubles, for a little while at least, and think about the larger world. And I think again about what can I do to help.

 

SUNDAY SUNDAY

It’s Sunday but I’m hearing the Mamas and the Papas tune Monday Monday in my head. I’m singing Sunday Sunday. It’s a new day and a new week. I’m trying to put a little oomph into my tank. I was so sleepy yesterday with the rain that it was hard to stay awake. Taking Sheba out for her walk and baking rhubarb muffins for our community garden barbecue was torturous. I kept with the program and succeeded. It was no small feat – for me.

I’m feeling like molasses in winter this morning. Not wanting to fall victim to my physiology, I’m showing up here to tap, record and hold myself accountable. I’m doing things that needs doing as they show themselves to me. So, Sheba’s teeth are brushed, something she would not allow not so long ago. We’re both mellowing. I’m more patient, allowing her time to get acquainted with the finger brush. Peanut buttered tooth paste helps a lot. It’s shedding season. Clumps of fur are hanging loose on her butt. Clearly she needs a good brush out. That being done, the garbage bag (and my clothes) is now half full of her hair.

It is not a bad start to my morning. My eyes are heavy with sleepiness. I might have to get up and make myself a cup of tea. I hope to get 2 pairs of pants shortened and hemmed today. I’ve taken them out of the closet for over a week for that purpose. I bought them over 20 years ago and never worn. They still fit except for the length, of course. Well, it’s better late than never. Should I give myself a star when they’re done? Maybe it’s not a bad idea to start a chart for things accomplished.

So now it is evening. Sheba and I have just come in from our walk. A beautiful walk it is, too. The sun is still out. The air warm. All the lawns are so green after two days of rain. I haven’t quite got everything done that I’ve set out for the day. But the 2 pairs of pants are shortened and almost hemmed. You have to be flexible about these things. And I am, as flexible as a wet noodle. If a thing can keep for the morrow, I don’t sweat it.

We had a good turnout for the Community Garden barbecue. There was a few raindrops but it quickly passed. Then it was sunshine all the way. It was nice to match up the faces to the numbered garden plots and get acquainted with each other. It was good food, good company and scenery. Sunday Sunday was certainly good to me.

 

AND THE RAINS CAME

Saturday rainy morning coming down. I’m counting our good fortunes. I can’t imagine anyone complaining about more rain. Our corner of this earth is very dry. I am trying to move forward in my day. It is easier said than done. So many things are easier said than done. I have been reading Pema Chodron’s Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change. It is beautifully written and full of wisdom. I’m soaking up tiny drops of it every morning.

What I value most of all is that I am softening up inside, slowly letting go of my rigidity, of things that no longer work. It is not an easy process. This morning I am feeling my heart closing up again. I am who I am. And you can’t make me change, it declares. Alrighto! I will not fight it. Nothing good comes out of ill fought struggles. The heart feel what it feels. I will observe and honour it. The time will come when it can willingly soften and open its door. The time will come when I can receive and accept whatever that comes without judgement and resentment. I can and I will!

I am happy that I have shown up here before my keyboard. I am sitting here amid the clutter of my desk. I’m not waiting for the perfect moment. I’m not waiting till everything is in perfect order. I am not waiting till I feel ‘fine’ and in ‘working condition’. I am showing up, sitting down and letting my fingers do the walking and talking. Somehow, they find the words and sentences. I sit and watch them march across the screen. I wonder where they come from. I wonder where they will go and when they will return.

Now that I have some words and thoughts out, I can settle into the day. I will not be distracted and lost in my head and feelings. Lunch is the next thing on my agenda. I bought some hemp hearts and chia seeds yesterday. I am eager to try them out in salads. I have a bag of spinach harvested from our raised beds begging to be eaten.

It is after lunch. The rain is pouring down. I hope that it’s not too much of a good thing all at once. All our rain barrels are full. We can stand to save some rain for later in the season. It is what it is. We can not hold back nature but we can learn to live in harmony with nature to ensure the health of our planet. What we do to nature, we do to ourselves. So how much do we care – about our earth and ourselves?

MUTTERINGS ON A RAINY DAY

Beginnings are damned hard! Look at how long we had to wait for the rain. There were days, weeks, months of possibilities of rain. It finally came today, our first real rain on this 20th day of June. We rushed onto the deck to witness and rejoice.

I feel somewhat akin to the dammed up sky, full of possibilites but unable to deliver. It’s a most uncomfortable and perplexing feeling. I’ve had days, weeks and maybe months of this. I hope I don’t have to wait till winter before I can unleash my whatever it is. It will be such a fury by then. I wonder if I’m a manic depressive. Hmm. Or it is just my ADHD symptons of trouble organizing and starting a task having a field day.

I’m trying to relax, gather and organize my thoughts so as not to waste time and energy going every which way. That is one of my handicaps. In between gaps here, I’ve vacuumed a couple of rooms and washed some Chinese broccoli for our lunch. My attention span is short and jerky. Doing some 4-7-8 breathing helps to relax and slow me down to concentrate better. The exercise has many other benefits of sleeping better, relieving anxiety and improving cardiovascular health. It takes only minutes in a day.

I have to make more of an effort in showing up here. I’ve said that a few times already, haven’t I? I know what to do but sometimes I can’t do it. I need a visual, physical written out agenda. That’s what this blog is for me, a roadmap, my GPS for my daily life. I need to get up, dress up, show up and tap here regularly for my mental and physical health. When I tap out my thoughts, wonderings, wishings, doings, it makes grooves and    pathways in my brain to guide me. They anchor and comfort me. I can see by the words, sentences and photos that I have not been idle and useless. I have been busy living my life as best as I can.

I’ve been feeling stuck, immobile, yucky and not getting anywhere. Sometimes feelings can be false and misleading. Somehow amidst all these feelings, I have put in a flower bed, a garden, raised vegetable beds, and a few flower pots here and there. The moral of the story is not to believe all your feelings. They can be your saboteurs.

STRUTTING IT IN MY STYLE

Saturday, my favourite day of the week. The sky and air are heavy, pressing their weight on me. It is difficult to feel at ease with the day. I am proceeding as best as I can. The time is appropriate to be reading Pema Chodron’s The Places That Scare You, A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times. There are many places and things that scare me but I am learning to sit and stay with them. I am learning to be a warrior-bodhisattva though I am at times quivering in my seat.

I should really come here regularly, more often than I have of late. I should but haven’t. I am really doing the best I can most days. I should give up the shoulds and just accept myself as I am. The complete acceptance of ourselves as we are is called maitri. The 4 qualities of maitri that are cultivated when we meditate are: steadfastness, clear seeing, experiencing our emotional distress and attention to the present moment.

It’s Sunday morning. It has drizzled overnight. The sky is overcast but the sun is trying to show up. I am, too. I am glad to have an art challenge to do. When the going gets tough, it is helpful to have a ‘chore’ to do. I’m doing Daisy Yellow’s annual ICAD (index card a day). It gives me a start to the day when I’m in stuck mode. I’ve been feeling stuck for too long now. At the end of the day I’ve created one thing even if it is the only thing.

Today is such a day. I haven’t even gotten out of my pjs. I should have used the momentum from the paint session to propel myself forward onto another activity. I didn’t. But I did learned that once I put a splash of paint on the card, it painted itself. The paint and brush had a life of their own. They were guiding and soothing me. I was infused with this exquisite feeling inside. My judgement and criticisms of my work and style evaporated. I was happy just pushing the paint around the card. I felt delicious just being me, painting the way I do. Perhaps I’m not stuck but just staying with being myself.

WEEKEND MUTTERINGS

I’ve never ever found an optimum time for doing anything or an easy time for starting something. Truth be told, I’m a daydreamer, a doodler, lounger, wistful thinker. In short I’m a procrastinator, trying to hold life at bay. What is this fear of starting and living?, I ask myself. I have no clue, no inkling of an idea but just this physical discomfort of not wanting to commit. Laugh if you will but we all know that he who laughs first, laughs last. I am sure you have that procrastinator in you, too. Only you haven’t recognized yourself in the mirror.

I see myself as molasses in winter mode. It is cool this morning. I see my little cucumber plants shivering in the raised bed in the front yard. First the heat. Now the chill. I hope they make it. I’ve never had much luck with them except for one year. Now that’s something to aim for. Something to get my juices flowing and off my butt. It takes patience and persistence to succeed at anything. My cyclamen is such a testament. I gave it the attention it needed. I don’t have a steady supply of that either. It comes in sporatic spurts. I’m not good when the going gets tough. Sometimes I abandon ship. Now that’s another thing to work on.

It’s another morning. I’ve clearly abandoned ship yesterday before finishing this conversation. I’m going through a spell. I’m lacking motivation. Nothing turns me on but I’m working on it. I feel as if I can’t even get myself out of a wet paper bag. Sometimes I just have to put in the effort as if I do love it, whether I feel it or not.  That’s life. What is it that gets you up and going? What are your secrets for joie de vivre? What keeps you on the job till it’s finished?

I’m sipping on my cuppa, my favourite diversion for not doing. I’m glued to my chair but at least I am flexing my fingers, tapping on the keyboard. I’m trying to stay awake, thinking of how to overcome my inertia, how not to feel overwhelmed about our climate crisis. What else can I do not to contribute to the carbon footprint? How can I get outside of myself to help the world I live in. These are some of my thoughts on this sunny cool June morning. Perhaps I can bake some rhubarb crisp to warm up. I’ve been making rhubarb sour cream muffins the last 2 days but I’ve run out of sour cream.

 

 

IN THE CUL-DE-SAC

I should listen to my own advice about starting. It’s not that I don’t want to. Sometimes I have to go through the period of being stalled, being hung in limbo, midair, not wanting to commit. Call it what you will. Maybe it’s my ritual of some sort. It’s good to have rest periods. I do feel an obligation not to waste time, to fill every moment of useful doings.

I’ve been caught in the limbo of not doing for days now. Every evening I catch myself saying, I will start in the morning. In the morning I find it is so much easier to sink into tomorrow is another day. It’s not that I’ve been a couch potato. On the contrary I’ve been on the ‘busy routine’ of living every day, doing the famous ‘busy stuff’ that everyone does.

It’s not that I have so many important things to do or to contribute. It’s that I’ve been  stuck in the cul-de-sac of lassitude, of not caring, of not having meaning, of not being important, of not being present. Perhaps it is called feeling sorry for myself or being in a depressive mood. My favourite excuse is that summer is not my favourite season. It brings out not so good memories of growing up in small town Saskatchewan. Everyone in town goes away to the lake or wherever on holidays, except the Chinese people who has the cafe. Oh, I remember those hot summer days of watching flies drone against the window screen and looking out at the empty dusty streets.

It’s strange how memories live in the very marrow of me. They are hidden deep inside and seep out on hot summer days. No need to worry about me. It’s just the way I talk/write. It’s healthy to be curious and investigate my feelings. It’s good to lay them down on the page in black and white. These ebb and flow of feelings are part of being alive. Feelings come and go like the tide. It’s like breathing in and out. Some are good and some not so. I’m still learning to accept them all, to sit with them as I must.

I’ve been reading Pema Chodron’s The Places That Scare You. I’m learning about Bodhichitta, being a warrior and staying in those scary places. It’s helping me to finally relax into life and not take things so seriously. Life is serious but things are not. I’m seeing the light now. Times when I don’t will come again. I have the words now. They could go away tomorrow. It’s all a cyle, the yin and the yan. That’s what I know for sure.