MY SAVING GRACE

Posted on September 13, 2023 by hafong

I suppose now is not a good time to read a book about addiction, depression and things that go bump in the night. But the In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts came available on my Libby app and I couldn’t help myself. I am already hooked after a few pages. You could say that my passion is understanding our human-ness, what makes us tick and what doesn’t. In my next life, if I remember, I will choose something in psychology for a profession. In the now I am continuing my journey as a self-help junkie.

My saving grace has always been my thirst for knowledge and the belief that there is something we can do. I guess you can call that optimism. But it wasn’t till I was in my 40s before I realized that before I change my circumstances, I have to change my behavior/actions. I cannot just sit back, yearn and yearn and not do anything different. It would be like howling at the moon. That knowledge sat for quite awhile before I could put that into action. I am not a fast mover. I am the tortoise.

We know from the story of the story of the tortoise and the hare, the tortoise does get somewhere. And I have made some miles. In these early days of September, I am recognizing and understanding my symptoms of SAD. I understand and am a little kinder to myself. I try to be more active, be outdoors and in natural light more. It helps to have a plan for the day. Writing helps. Looking through my art journals gave me a shot of pleasure. I will have to bring out my paints, pens and brushes again. Then there’s my cross stitch kits and knitting. Knitting is very soothing, very much like tapping on the keyboard.

WILD WRITING

Posted on September 12, 2023 by hafong

Yesterday I joined in Laurie Wagner’s live Zoom session on Wild Writing. She read a poem for us – twice. And from that we were to write long hand for 10 minutes whatever that we felt. I was surprised that I could write about practically nothing for that long. I felt quite comfortable except for the fact that my hand was getting cramped and I caved in before the final minute was ticked. I quite like this exercise of writing whatever arises within – with no censoring, with ease, without planning and plotting. It eases something(s) within, releasing angst, anger, worry and whatever that’s gnawing at me. Seeing these mischiefs, in black and white, marching across the screen restores reason and order in my brain. I hope it makes me easier to live with.

I’m experimenting with the best time to release my wildness. Now seems perfect. The sun has risen, shining its goodness on me. I’m not keen on the autumn darkness of our early mornings. I feel its icy fingers on my innards. And now I have no Sheba to warm and stand guard by me. Thoughts of my fur baby still warm me on dark mornings before I open my eyes. I hear the sounds of kibbles dropping in her bowl and her crunching. Funny how far sounds can carry in the dark and in memories. It is very comforting.

The clock is ticking. I must not tarry. Life calls and I must answer.

THE THINGS I REMEMBER

Posted on September 11, 2023 by hafong

Photo by Polina Tankilevitch on Pexels.com

My daily write have become enough of a habit that I don’t feel quite right without it. At the end of the evening, I’m putting a few things away, readying for bed. But I don’t feel complete without tapping out a few words. Now that I am here, concentrating, it is not so easy.

It is September 11, a hard day to forget. 9/11 is forever etched in history. We don’t have to clarify it and we know the date. 911 is forever in my mind as the day I took my mother to St. Paul’s hospital for a CT scan to confirm her aortic aneurysm. I remember waking up to the news on CBC radio of airplanes crashing into the Twin Towers. An accident was my first thought. Then when I hear it was a terrorist attack, I thought of our relatives in New York. Then sitting in the hospital waiting we saw it on TV. How can I ever forget 9/11?

9/11 is also my dear friend’s birthday. So thank goodness for a happy association with the date. 9/11 also made think of another unforgetable day – JFK’s assassination, November 22, 1963. I remembered that it was a grey damp November. I think I was in grade 7 and walking home at noon for lunch after hearing the news. I remembered wearing a blue print skirt with race cars along the bottom. And I word a crinoline under it. Funny the details that we remember.

Now that I got the daily bug out, I can go to bed. I won’t be bugged by things not done. I can rest easy. Almost looking forward to tomorrow.

DRUDGERY

Posted on September 10, 2023 by hafong

Another beautiful sunny warm September day though daylight was slow to show. It is still 18℃ at 7:30 in the evening. I’m a little less grumpy now though I couldn’t say that this morning. Being fruit fly season makes me even more irritible. I cannot even sip wine in peace without finding one swimming in my glass. So I have to put a lid on after each sip. I had to put my sourdough starter in the oven. It was a magnet for the pesky flies.

I’ve finished reading The Good Earth today. It reads easily, almost like my life. It’s that familiar. I’ve lived through those times from stories my mother told me. It seems so strange how similar the book is to the lives of those I know. It is also a timely read about the good earth when the survival of our earth is threatened. It gives me much to think about. It draws me out of my selfish moodiness. I try to think about the big picture. I try to look outward instead of inward.

I try to count my blessings instead of woes. Though there is still much to do in the garden, it and the greenhouse no longer calls me. I still tend them faithfully from habit and because it is necessary. I still get some pleasure but now it feels more like grudgery. I struggle to keep my interest and not to let things go all to pots.

I suppose in life there’s always patches of boredom and drudgery. Maybe they are necessary and serve a purpose. When I find out the purpose, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, I will try to practice good mental health hygiene. What goes up must come down, spinning wheel got to go round.

Here’s today’s harvest – a pail of goodness.

GRUMPY AND GRUMPING

Posted on September 9, 2023 by hafong

At the end of the day. I have this sense of something left undone, something I’m evading. It is an unease I’m feeling. Nothing to do but live with it. It is the season. It is me. It is the same feeling that I wake with in the dark mornings now. It fades with light. It will fade with sleep.

I’m in a grump of a mood – again. Just being myself. Lacking humour. Lacking heart. I should just pack it in and call it a day/night. I should learn to give up, not to analyze, not to make better. Just let be.

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING IMPORTANT

Posted on September 8, 2023 by hafong

I’ve been struggling with a little bad attitude and moods lately. It does not make me feel good about myself. At the same time, they are what I’m feeling. I cannot just squash them, wipe them out. I had to let them do their mischief within me. Otherwise, I would be saying that I do not matter. I am of no importance. It was difficult but I withheld harsh criticism of myself. The bad vibes passed along with the attitude. No CBD oil was necessary today.

The fine weather brought out my sunnier side. I’m a happier camper. But I cannot deny that the season and days are changing. My body is telling me so. I’m waking up at 2 am almost every night as if I’ve set the alarm. The good thing is I’ve been able to get back to sleep after a trip to the bathroom. I’m still getting at least 7 hours of sleep. My exercise class helps along with coffee with the girls after. Today’s sun helped tremendously. It gave me a burst of energy. It was no problem to dash off to the community garden to do a harvest after lunch. I was rewarded with 2 pails of food I grew from the good earth.

NO DENYING

Posted on September 7, 2023 by hafong

It’s a cloudy damp morning. The ground is wet from rain overnight, the drops still clinging to the tomatoes and the rods of the trellis holding them up. As I speak, I hear the pitter patter of more rain. It’s a good day to relax with a cup of tea and read a few pages of The Good Earth. I have bread on the go but I can sip and read between stages. The process is quite flexible and forgiving. I can take time and make it work for me.

The burst of raindrops was short lived. The sun did not come out till now which is mid afternoon. I am writing in between raindrops, making bread, lunch and reading The Good Earth. The bread is cooling on racks. The loaves turned out superb. I am enjoying a slice, trying to improve my disposition. I’m experiencing a bit of a mood again today. I had a cuppa with .4ml of CBD oil again. I can’t tell if it helps but it’s certainly not hurting. I think the best thing is to let myself feel what I feel. Trying to quench what is perceived as ‘negative feelings’ is denying my authenticity, that I am not worthy.

Fresh bread out of the oven is so delicious. I can’t deny myself another slice. I’m starting to feel more mellow, loving and nourishing myself. I’m freed a bit from the circular thinking of being selfish and mean. I am just I am. No more. No less.

ALMOST PERFECT

Posted on September 6, 2023 by hafong

A beautiful day, no smoke, sunshine and not too hot or cool. It is almost perfect. Even the Wifi is working out on the deck. Perfect except I’m a bit out of kilter. I felt it coming on yesterday. It’s not what I call my moody blues. They’re restful. This is not. I’m restless, aggitated, neurotic, fretting inside. I put the energy to use – loading up and starting the dishwasher, sweeping up the floor and putting the dirty cleaning stuff in the washer. I’ve bagged up the dried goiji berry leaves, clearing space on the deck table for me and the laptop. I’m pecking away my nervous energy.

My perfect moment on the deck is interrupted by the start up of my neighbour- from-hell’s lawnmower. She has an uncanny knack of know when I’m out on the deck and would bring out the noise machine. But never mind. I’m sipping a cup of decaf with a bit of CBD oil in it. I got it to help with my anxiety and stress when my mother had shingles. I don’t think it did much. I was in recent correspondence with a friend who found it helpful with his pain and sleeping. I thought I would give it another try. I’m still on my first and only bottle. I haven’t tried it very much. I’m hoping I can be as relaxed as the bunny I found in our potato patch today. He’s still there. I think he’s adopted us.

I think the CBD oil is working. I feel less edgy but just the same, I shall pack up and move inside away from the noise. I’m ok letting her think she got the best of me. I’m ready to put up my feet with another cuppa (without the CBD) and a muffin and watch Vera on YouTube. British murder mystery also soothes my nerves.

NO QUICK AND EASY

Posted on September 5, 2023 by hafong

A clear day with no smoke but started cool at 3℃. And it’s ending on the cool side. I had to put on a jacket to have a walk about in the garden just now. Even so, I felt chilled. It’s never just a walk about. I ended up harvesting a whole pile of tomatoes. Can I say I’m tired of so much harvest? I am grateful for our bounty but it is getting ridiculous and I am getting exhausted. I know I will appreciate all that is in our larder in the middle of winter.

I did not have time to read any pages in The Good Earth. I feel very much like the Chinese farmer, Wang Lung and his wife, working from sunrise to sunset. This morning I stripped some of the dried herbs – basil and oregano. It took some work and time. I’ve learned not to begrudge the price of store bought ones. Then it was time to think about making soup with the leftover chicken and carcass. I went out to the garden to harvest some veggies for it. Somehow it’s never an easy and quick trip. Almost an hour gone. Then there’s the washing and chopping before I can throw everything into the Instant Pot. There’s no instant about making a meal. It is not quick and easy.

By the time everything is chucked into the pot, the lid put on and the manual button is pushed, I’m sure I’ve screamed a thousand times in my mind. At those moments I understood my mother’s complaints of fatigue/pain. She is 92. I’m not so I thought I better just buckle up. It is good that I can relate/understand where she’s at, what she can and cannot do at this stage. She is still remarkable and independent. She knows her body/strength and she can figure out alternatives for what she can’t do. She sets a good example for me.

It is day’s end. The dining room table is looking messier yet. I shan’t worry about it. There’s a few more things dropped on it. 3 jars of sauerkraut are fermenting. 4 more days before they’re ready. I did bagged up the pumpkin muffins cooling on the rack. They are put away in the fridge and freezer. I’m calling it a night. Time for a shower and some stretches. This old body hurts.

THE GOOD EARTH

Posted on September 4, 2023 by hafong

Funny how some things pop into your life. The other day, someone mentioned she read Pearl Buck’s The Good Earth. I am reminded that I do have it on my bookshelf and I have read it. But I cannot remember any of it. Then this morning, there’s an article about Pearl S. Buck on my Facebook feed. It was very interesting. It prompted me to search for the book. And I did find it, a little paperback costing $.95 published in 1973. It’s still in very good condition though the pages are yellow and the print small. It is a book that I had borrowed from a friend while I was visiting her in Vancouver many years ago. I’ve not returned it nor have read it, as I now discovered.

I don’t know why I hadn’t read it. It is quite good. I’ve read 5 chapters this morning. It reminded me of the China I knew. I am surprised that I remembered so much, having left when I was 6 years old. I felt quite at home in the story of the poor farmer, his wife and his father. I felt I was there with them, though we were not the poor farmers. I guess we were considered well off if not rich. We had this big house that my grandfather had built. It had 2 stories with a copula on top. It housed our family on one side and the other half was occupied by my grandfather’s brother’s family. The windows had metal shutters. The front door was also of metal. Our house had a courtyard surrounded by a wall.

Looking at the photo and the memories, it feel like it was someone else’s life. It also made me feel nostalgic and lonesome for that Chinese part of me that was left behind. Anyways, it is too late in the day to ponder and wander through the past. Perhaps I will have more time tomorrow. I feel very busy at this end of life. Time seems to tick slower when I was young. Now it’s speeding faster and faster like the end of a toilet roll.

onethousandandtwo

Looking at Infinity

Monthly Archives: September 2023