I Quit!

Posted on September 11, 2024 by hafong

I haven’t thought of myself as being a quitter till these last few days. For this 2nd week of September I’m writing on catastrophes. I’m thinking back over the years to my most troublesome times. Now I remember I am a bit of a quitter. I quit university after 2 years. I did not finish. I did not get a degree in fine arts or English, my two majors. I can’t remembered exactly how I felt. Knowing my nature I was probably despressed, feeling like a failure. I was not talented nor a bright prospect as my high school teachers lauded me.

After slinging coffee at a cafe for a few months, I took a 10-month secretarial course at the Saskatoon Business College. I completed that and had plans to move to Vancouver to find a job. Somehow, I never got there and ended up settling for that job at a broiler making company from which I got fired within a few months. I wasn’t a quitter there. I was fired.

After working 2 years at the Dept. of Indian and Northern Affairs, I got bored. I went back to school, taking a 2 year diploma nursing course. The first year was not a problem. Nor was the second until the final few months. I’ve never had any hospital experience, no candy striper experience or even hospital visiting experience. So I had problems clinically in my last two rotations. Besides that, I had both personal and financial problems. So one evening when my instructor muttered ‘You’re flunking’, I lost it. I yelled, I quit!

I didn’t. My instructor intervened. I got help and graduated. After working a few years at a hospital, I said the same thing. I quit! It wasn’t the hard work. It was the environment. I did not find hospitals a friendly supportive workplace. I wanted to leave nursing behind me but I lasted only a few weeks. One day, driving past the university hospital, I stopped in on a whim to fill an application form. When I came out, I had a job. Instead of being happy, I put my head on the steering wheel and cried.

Nursing must have been my calling. I stayed for over 30 years. They were memorable though I can’t say it was good or bad. Whatever they were, I can say I felt good about the work I did. But today I can still feel the stress and trauma in my body as I am tapping out the words. My body shivers with the memory. But I have survived. I would not do it again if I could relive my life. Or I wouldn’t have stayed so long.

I should have quit sooner. That’s what I know now. It’s okay to quit if something is too hard or not working out. You can always pick it up again later. Or something else better might come along. Hind sight is better than no sight.

Scarred for Life

Posted on September 10, 2024 by hafong

It’s working time again, time that I sit in discipline and write. It used to be so much easier when I came to the keyboard regularly. I had a need and something to say. Now I have a want. I always have something to say. But I struggle with the discipline. I struggle with the flow. I have to work at it till it all comes back. I’m relying on Susan Wittig Albert’s writing prompts.

It’s good to have prompts to think about. This 2nd week of September, the prompt is catastrophes. We’re often advised not to dwell on the negatives and the past. Look forward, don’t look back. Sometimes I find that impossible to do. I’m easily triggered and my mind travels backwards and into dark tunnels. The topic had me time traveling back to my earliest catastrophe. It took me back to my 2 year old self when I was still in China.

Being so long ago, it is only a memory of the memory. I was playing in the courtyard chasing the chickens with my uncle who was only a year older than me. We were called in to have a dessert made with arrowroot flour. It was a hot sweet syrup. My uncle and I were fighting over the biggest bowl when I upsetted the bowl over my left arm. Being winter, I had a heavy long sleeved shirt on which was difficult to remove. I ended up with 3rd degree burn halfway down my arm starting from my elbow.

I have no memory at all of the spillage or the pain at the time or after. My burn would not heal with home treatment. So my mother took me to see a doctor in a bigger town. I do have memories of trips to the hospital by a bicycle taxi. I remember going through the gate and under an arch. I remembered that we had the bad luck of getting the same unskilled driver every time. But I have no memory of pain. My mother said I was a good baby. I did not fuss or cry much.

My burn did healed but I ended up with a big scar. I was very fortunate I did not lose any function of my arm. It did cause me some self image issues when I was young. I had often gazed at my arm, wondering what it would be like to have 2 normal looking arms. How would I feel? Would I be happier? How would my life be without a scar? Now in my ripe old age, it matters not a squat. I think we are all scarred having lived.

Fired From My First Job

Posted on September 9, 2024 by hafong

Photo by ANTONI SHKRABA production on Pexels.com

I’m settling down to do some serious work. The house is quiet and amazingly cool for a hot 31℃ afternoon. I’ve finally opened Susan Wittig Albert’s Starting Points: A year of Writing Prompts for Women with Stories to Tell. Since it is the second week of September, I shall begin with week two’s prompt – to write about our own personal catastrophes, and about survival and recovery.

I had a few minor catastrophes as a young person. One was being called called out by my public school principal. I got a severe tongue lashing because he overheard me telling another student I didn’t need to study. I was terribly hurt and felt devastated because I thought I was his ‘pet’. Everyone else thought he called me out to give me praise. How wrong they were! But I soon over it.

The next one that came to mind was much more serious. I got fired from my first real job. I had it only for a few months and it was just before Christmas. I got an inkling of it when I answered a call from someone enquiring about my job. When the office manager called me into her office a few days later, I already knew what was coming. Everybody else did, too. It was a very small office. I cried all the way home. I was not worried about money yet for I was still living at home. But it was Christmas and I was fired. Jobs were not plentiful back then.

I was not sorry about losing the job. I was sorry that it was that way. I was told I was not suitable. I really cannot understand that. I did everything I was told to do which was not much. I was quite bored actually with not enough to do. Freshly out of business college, I took the first job I applied for. It was for a broiler manufacturing business out in the industrial area of our city. It was a new position – that of a telephone girl. I answer the phone and make coffee and get donuts. There was not many general office calls. Meanwhile the person in accounting was overly busy. I could have done some of her typing if instructed. But no one shuffled any work to me. After awhile, I just sat, smoked and blew smoke rings waiting for phone calls.

In the end, I was happy I got fired. It would have been hard for me to quit since it was my first job. I would have suffered more months of boredom. I was quite young then and recovered quickly. I moved onto a job working for the Dept. of Indian and Northern Affairs. It was a big office with many employees. I worked as a steno for the post secondary education section. I was quite happy there till I got bored and wanted more responsibility. When I left, it was my own decision.

Use It Or Lose It

Posted on September 8, 2024 by hafong

It’s one thing to commit to the idea of writing daily. It’s another to actually do it. I’m already stuck on day 3 of my quest. I’m scratching my head for ideas. I remember I have a few books on how to write and what to write. I have Susan Wittig Albert’s Starting Point: For Women with Stories to Tell. I have had the book for many years. I have yet to open and read it.

That’s very me, a collector of books, things, ideas and what-have-yous. I collect but seldom put them to use. It’s about time I try to remedy this quirk of mine. I have made a small start. Truly I have. Recently I have delved into my freezer and pulled out a few of my many bags of frozen raspberries and strawberries. They’ve been there for a few years. Out of sight, out of mind. They were still very good in a rhubarb crisp. I’ve done that twice recently.

I have to remember that hoarding stuff, ideas, knowledge does no good. I have to use them or they will be lost. It seems like a lot of work, taking much time and energy that I don’t have. They’re not good enough reasons. I’m lazy, using it as an excuse. I just have to train my brain to a new habit. I have to get with the program.

Bless This Day

Posted on September 7, 2024 by hafong

The day is almost over. I can’t believe that it got up to 33℃. It was hot but the heat didn’t bother me like it usually does. In fact I felt quite blissful and peaceful, as if I was soothed by the heat. It is quite warm still, not a breeze coming through my open windows. It’s ok. I don’t mind sweating a little.

I’ve started listening to Caroline Myss again. She’s been my muse for a long time but I’ve taken a long rest from her wisdom. Hearing her words again has calmed me, resetting my heart and mind back to normal. They have been beating and racing frantically without rhythm. There was no order within or without. Chaos in my inner world, chaos in my outer world.

It is a blessing that she showed up in my emails and I read and listened. Though I’ve watched her Tedx Talk on Choices that can Change your Life, I never tire of it. I love every bit of it, but this is my favourite part. It’s the choice of getting up every single day and blessing your day.

Back to School

Posted on September 6, 2024 by hafong

I’m trying to restart my daily writing habit. It’s not an easy task once I’ve let it slide. It’s tougher to start at 2 in the afternoon after a morning of busyness. My mind has had at least 6 hours to be corrupted by useless and sometimes bad thoughts. But I can’t give up so quickly. It’s September, a new month, a new beginning. I can pretend I’m going back to school. I have to clean off my slate and sharpen my pencils. I have to muster up some curiosity and pep like the young person that I’m not.

Young I may not be but I can observe and learn from them. There’s a daycare two houses down. Last year they visited our garden and we visited theirs. The little ones were quite eager to show me what they got, taking my hand and tugging me along. They were all so curious about all the plants we had, showing such verbal and facial delight. I’ve learned a couple of lessons from these young tots. 1. Never be afraid to express delight, however you may or can. I know that it had made me so happy to witness it. 2. Don’t be afraid to share what you got. I was so happy to be taken by the hand to see their little tomatoes. They were sharing and not showing off.

Further up the street is a high school. I get to learn from bigger kids- teenagers. Their enthusiasm is not quite so outfront and obvious. They’re more sober/somber as they stroll by our house enroute to learning. Quite often they have things in their ears or looking at a phone in their hands. I’m not sure yet what I can learn from them except not to do as they do.

So ends this first day of school. It’s a good start. I’m happy that I could start with a middle and now the end.

One of Those Nights

Posted on September 5, 2024 by hafong

Morning has broken like the first morning. So far I have not heard the birds sing. The sun has come out now that it is 8. It was still absent at 6 when I rose. It felt mighty cool(7 ℃) when I went out to the greenhouse. Now the days start later and ends sooner. I have trouble sleeping through the night. Last night was one of those nights I spent checking the clock frequently.

Rather than tossing, turning and causing a disturbance to the one next to me, I got up. What to do? I wasn’t really at my best, my sharpest. I couldn’t really do any brain required activity. I couldn’t do much housework without creating noise. But I could mope in silence. I made myself a cup of chrysanthamum tea. It was hot, sweet and soothing. Just the ticket. I made my way back to bed shortly and got a few hours of sleep.

And it is again one of those days of a mass shooting at Apalachee High School in Georgia. 2 teachers and 2 students killed and 9 injured by a 14 year old. How can this happen? And yet it does, over and over. This is the 45th school shooting in the U. S. in 2024. Welcome back to school and guns, kids!

I must not let this colour my day/thinking/vocabulary. I must not let this trigger more negativity/anxiety/fear within me. I do tend to become my thoughts and fears as they swirled within. It’s good that I have this space and keyboard to sound things out. Life goes on with or without me. The sun rises and sets every day. I get up and show up.✓ Bills paid.✓ Meals prepared.✓Things pick up/discarded.✓ Harvest veggies.✓ Writing my progress.✓

I guess I’m doing okay. I wonder what else I can do to enhance this life of mine. Thoughts for another day.

Unbecoming the Worse in Me

Posted on September 4, 2024 by hafong

It’s September the 4th. A cloudy grey morning but at least the smoke is gone. The air quality is a 2 from yesterday’s 11. I’m juicing the last of my brother’s apples. I could have gotten more but less and enough are what I am working on now. My lizard brain gets so easily addicted on a good thing. It’s difficult to put up a limit and stop. It was will power as I said no to more apples, all the while gazing at the beautiful, bigger apples still on the tree. I had to keep the thoughts of that I have only x number of energy and that I can only drink so much apple juice. That goes for making and eating apple jelly.

I’m still struggling with unbecoming the worse parts of me, the parts that no longer works. It’s hard to let go because they’ve been with me forever and a day. They’re almost like friends but I wouldn’t call them that. They’re more like jealous sisters. What/where/who would I be without them? That’s the fear of letting go of the known. They’re the anchors that weigh me down.

I am getting better at letting go of the fear, even if it is ever so slow. It’s one step at a time. Sometimes the steps are in the wrong direction. I regress instead of progress. And I have to start anew. That’s where I am right now, switching directions, going forward again. Steps are hard. Finding the words are hard. Finding heart is hard. Tomorrow is a new day and another start.

onethousandandtwo

Looking at Infinity

Monthly Archives: September 2024