Author Archives: hafong

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About hafong

Hello! My name is (Leung) Hafong alias Lily Leung. You always say the last name first….that is the Chinese way. That is my partner lurking behind me. Since this is my blog, I won’t mention his name. But this is a rather cool picture. You see me and yet you don’t…sort of the way I feel about myself most of my life. So this blog is a self-exploration, an archeology dig of some sort. My tools…..words of a thousand or so at a sitting. I will try for that.

IF ONLY DOGS CAN TALK

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How are you today? I’m none the worse for wear. In some ways I feel better than yesterday. In other ways, I’m worse. I should not have talked about Sheba’s past anxiety issues. It was begging for trouble. It came last night. It’s a good thing I went to bed early. I got a good first two hours of sleep. I don’t know if Sheba and I woke up simultaneously or if her whimpering woke me. I thought it must be close to 6 am but it was only a little after midnight. She sounded like she had to do ‘potty’ so I let her out. The only trouble was that sometimes it takes awhile to get her to come back in. She is a barker and I have troublesome neighbours.

I can entice her in with treats sometimes. Other times I have to scout her out in the dark. It is not easy. She is black. But I know where her favourite spot is – in the flowerbed by the sunroom. Sure enough, I found her there – a black blob curled up in the black dirt she had hollowed out. I should have left her there. She looked content. But you know how mothers worry about their fur babies. I roused and chased her back inside.

I really should have left her there because she fussed, whimpered and kept me up for hours. In the end I had to let her out again. She was anxious. Something was bothering her. If only she could talk and tell me what it was. She can’t. I had to figure it out as best as I can. I was not going to let her anxiety go on for weeks on end like the last time. We were both sleepless for that long together. I was determined that it was not going to happen again.

I was happy she found comfort in her flowerbed outside. It was probably very grounding nesting in the dirt. She was quiet out there and I finally got another couple hours of sleep. She barked to get in at 6 am. It was her breakfast time. She was back to her normal self again. In the morning light I could see that she had tracked in all the dirt from her hole in the ground. It’s no wonder. The ground is still wet from all the rain we’ve had.

I’m hoping for a more peaceful night. I could stand some sleep. My head is not working too well today. I’m probably babbling incoherently. Oh well….

 

JUST RANTING

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No two days are equal. Today is not a good day. Nor is it a bad day. It’s just that I am feeling heavy. Do you know what I mean? I am not sure that I do either. You could say I’m treading water, keeping my head above the waterline. I wish I am more buoyant. I am getting tired. I think I am coming down with something.

Even so, it is difficult to rest, to let things be. I have this feeling, compulsion to do, to get ahead, to accomplish. I wonder if it’s me or is it the society we live in. Have I bought into or have I been brainwashed into the idea that I have to be useful, productive, blah, blah, blah. I really like to rest awhile like in the olden days, guilt free. I’m starting to feel flu like. My eyes and nose are dry like sandpaper. My head a bit achy. My body heavy and weighed down like a big sandbag. Even my hands feel flu-ish and achy.

So, why don’t I just give everything a rest? I feel somewhat programed like an EverReady battery. I feel pushed to GO, GO, GO. It’s no wonder that when I get sick, I get SICK. A couple of months ago, I had a summer cold. It lasted a month. I coughed and coughed the whole month. I think I better smarten up, ease up, drink lots of fluids and REST. I should not think so much. I should learn to let go and let be.

A DISTANT MEMORY

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Some mornings I just feel like throwing up. That’s how enthused I am. It’s not about who I am or is it? I have many mornings like this. When I was still working, I often start the day by telling people I am grouchy. I want to let them know that it’s not personal. It was how I was feeling (my physicality and my brain chemistry) at the time. Mornings can be tough when you have to get up at the crack of dawn, walk the dog and be at work for 7:30. Most of the time I feel like a sleepy grumpy bear.

I’m lumbering around this morning, heavy and slow footed. There’s not an ounce of joie de vivre in me. I could lay on the couch all day. I see the crumbs and dog hair on the floor. They seem magnified and multiplying. I like to turn a blind eye but they irk the hell out of me. I sigh and take the big bic of a vacuum stick off its charger. I would just like to make a cursory round on the floor. But I know about all the dog hair under the legs of the chairs and stools. I heave another big sigh and painfully pulled them off. Then there’s the kitchen mat to shake out.

The kitchen and dining room are done. I even took a damp mop to give the hardwood a shine. It wasn’t that difficult now that it’s done. It’s a distant memory. I have to keep that in mind for the next time and forever. Difficult is however difficult you want to make it. I remember my mother telling me, don’t include difficult or hard in your vocabulary. Mothers have a way of always being right.

Now that the difficulties are out of the way, I can make something of my day. I’ve gotten up and shown up but haven’t dressed up. Guess what I am going to do next?

IT’S THE RAIN

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It’s a wet, dreary, windy day. Thank God for the autumn leaves. Their gold was more vibrant in the grey. This is the kind of day when I wish Sheba was self-walking. But I will brave up shortly and take her out. We’ve done this once or twice before. We got caught in a sudden deluge at the park couple of summers ago with no rain gear. There was no place to hide, not even down among the trees. The rain came down so fast it had nowhere to go. The trails became little streams. We got wet! We were not happy.

There was a lull in the rain. Sheba and I have been out and back. It was not too bad. The thoughts and anticipations were worse. But it is nice to come back to a warm dry house. It’s nice to have tea, toast and jam. One must keep one’s spirit and resolve up somehow. I need all the help I can get. I am not sad or mad but I’m not overflowing with glad either. It’s that kind of day. It’s the rain.

The day is restful but maybe a little too restful. I feel a bit at loose ends, somewhat like a soggy noodle. I’m not brimming with ambition. I feel no creativity whatsoever. Perhaps it’s not a good day to read How to Change Your Mind by Michael Pollen. The cover enticed me at the library. How could I resist: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and Transcendence? It’s probably not meant to be read at one or two sittings like a whodunnit. I must learn to be patient. I did manage a few pages though. It is interesting to read that LSD was discovered by Albert Hofmanm in 1943 and his first accidental ‘acid trip’. He lived to be 102. Amazing!

I’m boring even myself now. It’s the rain. I’m happy to have it. I’m happy to have a rest from all my strivings and doings. Sometimes it is really ok to be bored. My mind and brain need the downtime to idle and recharge. I love to sit and look out the window. How lovely the autumn foliage. How they light up the grey day. Is it not picture perfect?

 

THE GLAD IN SAD

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Sheba is doing her job. She gets me out whether I want to or not. She’s not affected by seasonal changes at all. When I ask her if she wants to go for her walk, she pops up off her haunches every time. She didn’t fail to do so today. I only had to ask once. I said a silent darn. I didn’t want to but I can’t fail her. She loves her walks. No matter the weather or conditions I may have, she gets me out the door.

Today was one of those comfy misty gray and cool days. I didn’t do the hot chocolate marshallow thing but I cozied up to the fireplace downstair. Mind you I was not idle. I worked on my Bernina sewing machine and my paints. I made up for the days when I couldn’t do either. I might as well go with the roll when the rolling is good. That’s what I’ve learned to do. Make good of the good times. When the SAD hits, I can afford to shut down and not feel guilty. I can put my feet up and rest on my laurels.

I’m not speaking for everyone but I am not unhappy that I am affected by SAD. It is part of me. Who would I be without it? Would I be as interesting without my idiosyncrasies, my grumpiness and what have yous? Maybe you might find me easier to be with minus all that, but don’t I challenge you to be more this way? I am more having to search for the whys and hows to be living with who I am. Life is not stagnant when there’s so many ups, downs, sideways and bumps to deal with.

LIFE IN THE SAD LANE

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Here it is, after six, and I have no words or thoughts on the page. They’re all in my head. I have conversations and tell stories there all day long. They keep me company. I’m never lonely. It is a good thing. It is tough enough to have SAD but at least I can entertain myself and not to fight loneliness as well.

I don’t want to leave you with an impression that I am having a bad time all the time. I am not. There’s some positive things about having seasonal affective disorder. Honest, there is. For sure I struggle with sleepiness, sluggishness, moodiness, forgetfulness, anxiety and depression. But what and who would I be without those struggles? I am one who does not/cannot stay in the undesirable and unsustainable. My instinct for survival always makes me reach up and out for the light.

I can say that this life of mine is exciting and full. My life is my canvass and palette. I am the artist. I can choose what I want to create. I can choose the colours. Is it gold or blue? Does it have to be black and white? Can I make a rainbow? Would I be able to paint those colours if I have not experienced them all?  So I do not mind being in the blues or the darkest of the blacks. I have also felt the goldens and tangerines. I’m always learning. I am always open to the way. I try not to question too much. I don’t have to understand how things work. I can just do it.

THIS DAY

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I was sleepy as soon as I woke up this morning. I was hungry right after breakfast. I think my body is getting ready for winter. If I was a bear, I would look for a hollow log to sleep in. Since I’m not, I have to find ways of functioning while sleeping on my feet. I could be a one woman band and call myself The Sleepy Head.

How did I do today? I tried not to sit too long at any one time. It is torture to get up again then. I did the hard stuff first – in the morning. After everything is said and done, the hard stuff was not so tough. I made 3 quarts of tomato sauce. The thing to do is not think. Just do, one step after another until fait accompli. Then I wonder: What was the hard all about? The sauce is in the freezer and everything cleaned and put away.

It is good for me to keep up with my routine, to keep up with tapping on the keyboard, painting my little index cards and walking Sheba. They help me stay on track, keep my eyes open and my spirits up. Aside from drowsiness, wanting to curl up on the couch with my quilt and closing my eyes, I feel fine. It helps to have sunny days. Even so, I struggled to keep going. I would have rather sat on the deck and study my toes than walk Sheba. But no matter what, I always rise to the occasion. I had to push not to cut our walk short. Just one more block was how I egged myself on. It was a lovely afternoon as we trudged leisurely among autumn’s golden glory.

So don’t think. Put one foot in front of the other. It’s a good motto. It works. I will use whatever works. Measurable results are what matters. I have 3 jars of tomato sauce in the freezer. I’ve painted, walked Sheba and my dining table is still clear or will be in a minute. What more can I ask for this day? It is enough.

 

MY MOTHER, MYSELF

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Another day bites the dust. I am sitting here in early evening. I’m  trying for some profound thoughts but there are none. Some days are like that. If I’m not careful, I might fall asleep at the keyboard. Daylight is muted. A bit of sunshine glimmers above the rooftops, lighting up the yellow of the leaves.

The rain came this morning along with rolls of thunder. I welcomed both. They gave me excuses, if I need some, just sit back, relax and finish my book. I still have those feelings of getting on with the day. It’s healthy to have a dose of both. Otherwise, I could turn into a slouch. I could spend my whole life on the couch. I need those needling feelings to get back on my feet again and ‘accomplish’ stuff.

Not much accomplishments today. I took my parents out to the library and to the mall for coffee after. There’s not much that I could give them other than some time. Every few weeks, I take them to the library. It’s wonderful that it has a small section of Chinese books. My mother loves to read. She still interested to read and learn new things. My father not so much but enjoys the outing.

If there’s anybody that I aspire to be, it would be my mother. She gives me inspiration on how to be, how to live. She teaches me through her story telling. That’s how I’ve learned everything Chinese, the culture, my ancestors, my very being. Don’t get me wrong. I find faults with her, too. Our mother/daughter relationship has had many difficulties like all such relationships. I’ve had my share of ‘I hate my mother’. Growing and maturing has enabled me to understand my mother and see from her point of view. Sometimes, especially in recent times, I feel as if I am my mother.

I never expected to arrive to this space of contentment . But I have. In this very moment I am very at peace with where I am and what I have done with my life. It is very sweet.

 

MY BLACK HOLE

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I’m stretching myself, trying to move a little faster. I poke along like a snail with my head inside my shell. I have no vision or plan. It’s no wonder I get nowhere expediently. I’m just riding a stationary bike. I can’t even tread water. At the moment, I’m sipping tea and snacking on sweet potato chips. It’s not great for staving off drowsiness. It’s something once started, hard to stop. I’ve instructed the guy not to buy them for me any more.

I was talking about forgetting how to turn on my headlights the other night. It was such a strange thing. This morning in the car I could plainly see where the lever was. How could I possibly forget? It was as if there was an empty spot in my brain at the time. A black hole. I vowed to strive for better brain health. I’m giving it some serious thought.

Aside from a little snacking now and again, I eat a pretty healthy diet. I’ve cut out endless cups of coffee since I’ve retired. I’m catching and making up for my sleep deprivation from shift work. I think I have 2 more years to go according to some research. I go to aerobics 3 times a week. I swim once a week. I walk Sheba every day.

I’ve been monitoring myself for toxic emotions. It’s my biggest fault and downfall. I’m a highly sensitive person. I feels things deeply – the good and the bad. I hang onto feelings for a long time. I take things personally. Not so good. I could at one time feel my cortisol level rise with my emotions. I have better control now. I’m slowly learning to relax and to let go a little. I have a long ways to go yet. I’m aware and working on it. Then there’s the toxic relationships. Nothing kills more brain cells than toxic emotions and relationships. It’s something to talk about for another day.

LOOKING FOR THE LIGHT

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I like starting the day with a clear mind and a cleared table. So far, so good. I wasn’t quite so sure though last night when I couldn’t figured out how to turn on my car’s headlights. I was so sure that it was on the same side of the lever for the wipers. It was dark. I couldn’t see very well. I opened my door a bit so the dome light would come on. Nope, not there. I was almost afraid to look on the other side. I guess I was afraid that it wouldn’t be there. Then what would I do? It sounds silly, I know.

I was afraid to look but I groped under the left side of the steering wheel. Ah, the headlight lever. Relief flooded through me. Then anxiety. Am I getting demented? I sat there in anxiety but no panic. I did some silent soothing and calming of my nerves. I just had a glitch, a slight malfunction of the moment. I took time to breathe, remembering I have had such moments before when I was much younger:

  • I forgot my code for my credit card at the till shopping for groceries. I had to leave my groceries there.
  • I forgot where my locker was in the change room at work. I still remembered the panic I felt not recognizing what row it was in. It did passed in a few minutes. Whew!
  • I was talking to a medical resident at work. Her face got fuzzy. I wasn’t quite sure I remembered who she was. I must have looked disturbed. She said, Lily are you ok?  And I said, Jackie? And it was her. I somehow managed to laugh it off.

I felt better having remembered those incidents. Then doubt crept in. I’m older now. What if it, the big A, is here? I decided that I don’t need that thought just then. I took a big slow breath, carefully backed out my car and drove safely home. I said a prayer on the way, vowing to take better care of my brain health.

So that’s why I continue to show up here – to document, to dig, to question the truth of everything. I’m clearing the debris, the useless excess. I’m looking for the light home.