Monthly Archives: December 2025

On Idleness and Nothingness

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I am seldom idle with nothing to do even though I feel as if I’m languishing my life away. All our technology today does not allow me a moment of nothingness. But ask me what I have accomplish in any given moment. I cannot tell you. I feel as if my attention has been kidnapped. I am held captive, pushing buttons on the phone, tapping the keyboard search of news, stories, blah, blah, blah. All the things that matters squat. I know that. Yet it is hard to stop.

It has been especially bad this past year. Having lost my mother, it is natural that I am interested in other people’s similar situations. Pretty soon there’s alot of posts in my feed from people losing their mothers. Grieving and suffering, I am naturally drawn to stories and articles on that and how people overcome their issues. So by now I have been saturated with so many stories of loss and suffering. I didn’t know there was so many weird and awful diseases, congenital defects, accidents. How is it possible to live? It is no wonder I am not a happy camper.

I remember a time when I did not have a computer or an iPhone. Now I am an owner of an iMac, iPhone, iPad and a macbook. How many macs do I really need? Back in the days, I did no googling in search of things of no importance. I ate my breakfast leisurely, listening to CBC radio. CBC was news worthy and had interesting and educational programs. The library held many books to answer my questions on gardening, cooking, sewing, the arts. It was adequate. My brain was not flooded and short circuited by a million and one trivialities like it is today.

Recovering my brain and life is what I hope for this coming year. I hear that improvements in our lives do not happen on their own. Drat! It means I have to do the work. So where to start? What pops up in my mind is mindfulness, going back to morning idleness and nothingness. It is the thing that have saved me over and over again. It should be easy to do nothing again, right?

Moving Forward

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I do believe that cleanliness is next to holiness. Having finally pushed myself out of my quagmire, the upstairs floors are vacuumed. The kitchen and bathroom floors washed. I feel ever so much better. It’s pretty bad when I keep skirting around a dead bug belly up and legs curled on the floor for many a day. I wonder why it is hard to perform some jobs sometimes. I will never know the answer. It’s part of being human so it is best that I just move onward and forward.

One part of the top floor I haven’t tended to is the sunroom, my so called sancturary. I should really give it more respect. The floor is not vacuumed or washed. It is sticky where I had spilled my morning tea. I hadn’t bothered to wipe it, thinking it small. I think I was wrong. At least I’ve washed my little lap quilt before the tea stains take hold. Life is hard and I am not the Wonder Woman I want to be. I’m chugging along as best as I can. My golden lasso is a bit tarnished.

The days are slowly getting longer though the mornings are still ever so dark. The sun did not rise till 9:16 am. It’s no wonder I couldn’t get out of bed till close to 8. It is out in full golden glory at this moment. It lights me up. I put the sadness and heaviness back on the shelf. There’s no place for them now.

What Bugs Me

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So Christmas is over. There’s so much pressure to be happy, joyous and celebratory. I’m none of those and I feel guilty that I am not. There’s no law and there’s nobody wagging their finger at me. Perhaps that’s what bugs me the most, my self criticism. It is only right that we put on a happy face and wish each other Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. There’s no need to Bah, Humbug! It would be a sad world if everyone feel like me. Yet that’s how I feel. The thing is perhaps pretend and not to let it show. There is no gain in spoiling it for others.

I’m wallowing in my own misery. There’s no reason to not to feel and acknowledge what is inside of me. I like to think of it as self-care. No one else can truly know how I feel. I’m having a difficult time moving forward but I am putting one foot in front of the other every day. I am making progress though ever so slow. We’ve started the second year without my mother. Who knows how or how long a death affects a person. But it has changed me and my world. How, I am unable to articulate at this time. Perhaps it’s something to write about in January.

What bugs me is that I’m stuck in this space and time, wallowing. I used to look forward to the morning at bedtime. I couldn’t wait to start the day. Now, though I’m not dreading the day or anything, I like to lull in bed, wrapped in the warmth of the comforter and the darkness of the morning even though I am awake. When I do get up, I am surprised but not dismayed that it’s so late. I am bugged but I guess not bugged enough. I feel weighed down by some unknown force. Tomorrow is another day and next week it will be a new year. Hope on the horizon.

Learning in Stuck

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How quickly time flies. While I was stuck in November, December came, bringing with it colder temperatures and clouds. I can almost hear those Christmas bells ringing and Santa and his herd of reindeer on the roof. I really am not fond of the festive season because there’s this pressure to feel festive. I’ve never ever been up to that task. I have never voiced it because it is something you’re not suppose to say or feel.

Now I don’t really care. It feels good to get it off my chest. It’s time to shed the shackles of shame and pretense. I’ve never felt great about the Christmas season even though I fell in with the general population. I did the tree, decorations and gifting for many years. It was exhausting hunting for the perfect gifts, the wrapping and all. Now, I’ve stopped doing all that. It no longer works for me. What works still is spending time with friends and family. Besides that, I don’t want anything for Christmas.

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I am still seriously and perhaps dangerously stuck in December. The days are getting shorter and darkness longer. I feel no burning desires to do anything aside from sipping tea. But I cannot just turn myself ‘off’ till spring. The least I can do is finish this post started days ago. It is snowing steadily outside my sunroom windows. The white brights up the grey morning. My pink garage door brightens up my mood.

No matter how I feel, I still get up, dress up and show up somehow. My best is not what it used to be but it will have to do for now. I haven’t made great strides in changing bad habits into better ones. I am still buried under a ton of chaos or that’s how I feel. It is true it is difficult/impossible for a zebra to change stripes. I have to remember I am not a zebra and I can change.