ON THE YELLOW BRICK ROAD

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Sometimes ill winds blow even on sunny days. There is nothing I can do. I have learned over time to stand/sit tall and let them blow over me. I try to emulate Patience and Fortitude, the lions in front of the New York Public Library. I must with patience and fortitude retain the core of myself through all kinds of weather – sunshine or rain. Whatever comes my way, I’m ready. Bring it on! Amazing the power of words and self-talk! I love Mary Sarton’s words, her self talk.

“Keep busy with survival. Imitate the trees. Learn to lose in order to recover, and remember that nothing stays the same for long, not even pain, psychic pain. Sit it out. Let it all pass. Let it go.”

It is hard for me to let go. I tend to hang on with tooth and nail. My grip is loosening with age. The truth is I’ve worn my nails to the quick. Sometimes there is no choice but to let go. I have to confess I have lost some parts of myself on this life journey. I’m walking my own Camino Road to retrieve them. I’m much like Dorothy and her companions going down the Yellow Brick Road. The Scarecrow searching for a brain, the Tin Man a heart and the Lion courage. I’m searching for all three. There is happy ending for Dorothy and her friends. I believe there is one for me, too, though I wouldn’t call it ‘ending’.

I much prefer beginnings. I like the idea of waking every morning to a new day and another crack at things. I get to re-program myself. I would delete the stuff that didn’t work and try something new and different. Who wants to wake up to the same old, same old like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day? No one but I have been without knowing it. I’m grateful to my ‘bad’ days. They tell me that I’m not having such a good time and things are not ticking along. My ducks are all out of alignment. It’s time to take a different path or pull over and take a rest.

Maybe, just maybe, I have all the stuff I’m looking for. Maybe I should search within myself. I could have been barking up the wrong tree, going down the wrong garden path all this time. Gee whiz, why don’t I watch where I am going?

 

COMING TO MY SENSES

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The only one who likes change is a wet baby. – Mark Twain

Another witty truism! Wish it was coined by me. Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn are well known to me but I can’t say that I’ve read the books in entirety, only excerpts. I wonder why that is. I wonder why we dislike change so much. It feels like a nail scratching a chalk board. Ugh!

I’m understanding and doing better with change after reading Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself. I try not to fall back into the pit of being comfortable rather than change for the better. I’ve deduced that anything unfamiliar brings out the uncomfortable feeling of ugh! Let me out of here and even back to what doesn’t work anymore. At least I know how that feels. It’s not unchartered waters. It sounds crazy but that’s how my lazy brain works.

Sometimes I have to grit and bare my teeth but I am putting up with the ugh! I let it ripple through and out my body. There, it wasn’t so bad after all. Just a dose of adrenaline jolting me out of my comfort induced stupor. Next time it will be just a minor buzz. I’m feeling a pleasant buzz from my apres supper wine. It has been a wonderful day with good creative results. I am not so secretly pleased. Sometimes I want to let the world know that.

 

HOW I SPEND MY DAYS

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How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. – Annie Dillard

I wish I could write such insights as Annie Dillard. But then I’m not a Pulitizer winning authour. She has written many books. I wonder why I haven’t read any of them, especially since so many of them are in the library. I’ve just fixed that, reserving The Writing Life. I thought I should start with just one book. I’m still working on James Mitchener’s The Source. It’s an ambitious read of 1000 pages. I’m only on  page 207. I have a ways to go.

How do you spend your days? I’ve wondered what other people do with their time. I’m always busy it seems. I’m a doddler, poking away at life. Maybe if I speed up a little, I wouldn’t feel so busy. But it’s who and how I am. I need that slow pace to digest and process. So I can’t get up in the morning and hop to it. I have to ease my way with a cuppa tea and a few pages of fiction. Then it’s breakfast. If it is Monday, Wednesday,or Friday I’ll be heading out the door to aerobics. Saturday mornings I used to swim. Then somehow I got tired of always heading out of the door and I stopped. But I kept it up most of the winter.

I’m a homebody so I was glad to read that Annie Dillard is a recluse, albeit a gregarious one. I wish I’m like that but alas, I have no gregariousness in me. It should be no surprise that I don’t do a lot of frollicking with my days. I’m a rather quiet, somber person. I live within rather than without. That is, I contemplate alot. I like to read and muse. I wonder about the universe, why people do what they do. I wonder about the speed of the changes we are experiencing. How long life as we know will last? I wonder what gives meaning to the things we do. What does it matter anyways? I could have more time if I could just cut down all this musing.

You see, I am no fun. I do have fun though. I have numerous, maybe too many hobbies. I like to read and write. That gobbles up tons of minutes and hours in a day if I let it. Even painting my little index cards takes up at least half an hour. More if I’m ambitious. I’ve picked up sewing again. I went out and bought a fancy dancy new machine. It’s no small endeavour. It took time to learn all the ins and outs. Then there’s the organizing – fabric, patterns, projects. I’ve taken a fancy to free motion sewing, creating a picture with stitching. I haven’t thought about quilting yet. I have all the notions – collected through the years. At least I don’t have to go out and shop for material. I have a fabric shop right in my own basement.

I’m tapping here in my space. I’ve just turned the oven on for the roast. There’s a lot to do every day. Roasts to put in the oven, bread to make, lunches and dishes to do. The guy does supper and getting groceries. I start my own bedding plants for the garden. Been doing that for years now. Sometimes I enjoy. Sometimes it’s work. Well, isn’t everything? It’s worth it. It’s nourishing my body and soul. Even the cleaning and washing. It’s taking care of this business of living. What meaning or satisfaction would I get not doing any of this? Sure, I complain sometimes and wish that everything was taken care of for me. That sounds like being in a nursing home, doesn’t it?

It’s time to shut up and do something else now. There’s the dog to walk yet.

 

 

 

AFTER LUNCH BLUES

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So here it is that after lunch blues time again. I’ve put the dishes in the sink. Pots are soaking. I took time out to make that dental appointment finally. Ugh! I have an aversion to making and going to all kinds of appointments. I’m always in the flux of dismay. I should just get over it. Make the appointment. Go to it. Stop fretting. Stop talking about it. I’ve dug out a few more old nursing textbooks for the recycling bin. My top shelf is almost empty! There is light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe there is a Santa Claus, Virginia.

I’m enjoying my second cup of tea for the day. I’m sipping and tapping away the blues. For every little thing done, I feel just a little better. It is more than good enough. Too much would be overwhelming but I can taste and savour a tiny bit of joy. I will remember it and draw it out in moments on cloudy rainy days. It will be that sunbeam lighting up an idea, a dark corner or whatever that needs brightening.

The dog and I are walked. It has warmed up to 11 degrees C. With the sun out, we and the bedding plants can stop shivering. It will go down to -1 degrees tonight. The plants will have to be brought inside again. That’s how it is with our Canadian climate. At least there’s no snow in the forecast.

It’s 5:30. I’m enjoying my decaf, toast and jam. It won’t spoil my supper. I’ve worked hard, cleaning the oven and racks. It’s one of those jobs you want to turn a blind eye to. I have but today was finally the day. I set my mind to it. It was a lot of muscle and elbow grease. There was no way around it. And those damn racks. If there’s an easy way, please let me know. I don’t like using the self cleaning function. I’m afraid of leaving it on at 900 degrees F for 4 hours. Eeek! It’s like having a bomb in the kitchen. I would be a sitting duck when it explodes.

Ok, so much for the drama. Time to wrap it up. Another day and another month done. Be back next month.

 

SUNBEAM ON A SPECK OF DUST

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Sunday morning. The sun is coming through a smoke filled sky. Grass fires were burning outside the city yesterday. I hope they are under control. I guess we are into the brush fire season. I am stiff and sore from my efforts cleaning the deck yesterday. I have this urge to sit and lounge. I don’t but I am not in a rush. I am my usual slow motion self. Slow and steady can work miracles. I suprise myself at how much can be done. It encourages me to carry on with what brings results.

Sometimes I have to work harder to stay with it. The urge to revert to the old and familiar is strong. I try to do my morning and evening stretches to limber up and down. Mornings are easier. Evenings are not, now that the urgent need of pain relief is gone. How quickly we forget pain once relieved. Perhaps I need to change up to a late afternoon stretch instead. By evening I am quite happy to be just a couch potato. Timing can make or break a habit.

Can you believe it? I am already getting sleepy. It is not yet 10 am. Time to stand up, stretch my legs, make my decaf and maybe do my index card art. A change of posture is what is needed at this moment. See you later.

It is after lunch. The dishes are dealt with. I can’t say that I’m more wakeful. The sky is still grey. Sheba is curled up on her bed. I feel the pull towards it myself. I’m sounding like a bore, droning on and on about the same stuff daily. Sorry! But this is my sounding board, my to-do list and my decompressing room. It’s my think tank. I’ve met some awesome fellow bloggers through this room.

Today I’m reading Julie Yip Williams’ chemo experience. She has passed away in March/18. No, it is not depressing but rather enlightening and inspiring. It is learning about life. Dying is part of it. We can learn and gain much from those who went before us. Another brave journey I have followed is Stage iv. I’m not obsessed with death. Just getting serious about living and comfortable that nothing is forever. Maybe it is the nurse in me, the one who have seen death many times. Even after all that, I have not really understood that part of living. Now I am getting acquainted. It makes life all the more sweeter as they say. All those every day small moments are as precious as a sunbeam on a speck of dust. Can you see it?

 

MY CAMINO ROAD

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Beginnings of anythings are hard. Mornings are the best for me. It’s that time before trivia creeps in and fills all the recesses of my mind. They block the flow of oxygen and ideas to my being. But it is so tempting to linger over that cup of tea/coffee and scroll one more page and read another article, then another post. Before I know it, an hour or two have passed. The good/bright ideas/intentions have disappeared. All I’m left is lethargy and annoyance with myself.

I have to be stern with my lagging, sagging self. Nip it in the bud or it could run rampant, like an infection. So here I am, showing up before I get feverish and succumb to another lazy day. Movement begats more movement and energy. I go back to things that work for me, working in small blocks. If I get stuck, I stop and do something else. I’m learning not to sabotage myself. It’s been a long journey of many slow steps. But I am seeing more clearly as I am walking this, my very own Camino Road of enlightenment. No need to go to Spain. I have Sheba to keep me company here on the road.

Now it is 3:30 in the afternoon. I’m pecking/tapping away at my day. An index card painted for 365 Somethings 2018, a photo for April Love , Sheba’s afternoon walk done – these are the sign posts that guide me. They add order and rhythm to my day. In between these projects, the bedding plants are placed onto the deck, getting some natural light, readying for permanent residence out of doors. The deck chairs are rid of their dust and grime. Corners of the deck cleared of last year’s dirt. Screens wiped. Not all finished but a good start. That’s all that is needed. A start and the rest will follow. Repeat this every day.

 

PROCESSING AND REROUTING

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I’m torn between doing and being. It’s never difficult for me to just be. There are many things calling out to be done.  Much as I believe FlyLady’s motto, You are not behind, this tug of war today have caused me to be behind. It has drained some of my energy. I feel somewhat irked. I’ll listen to the FlyLady’s advice and jump in where I am. I had subscribed to their emails to help organize and get out of chaos. It didn’t work for me.  I  read the emails but I didn’t do the stuff. After awhile I stopped even reading the emails. I have to find my own way. What I really want to do right now is read a little more of I is for Innocent with my coffee. So, I’ll be back later.

So later is another day. I ran out of steam, desire and time yesterday. I’m still suffering from the first two reasons. I’m still in my pjs but the lunch dishes are done. I’m letting the Roomba have its way in the kitchen. That’s what I do to miminize the getting behind stuff. I’ve become wily when I’m lazy with no energy. That’s why the good Lord gave us a brain. You know what they say. A rest is as good as a change. I’m processing – letting me rest a bit and letting things perk on their own. I’m listening to my GPS. Reroute! Reroute! I’ve finally heard.

I’ve just read another post from Julie Yip William’s blog called Love. It is a letter to her husband. Julie has passed away in March from colon cancer. I have no adequate words to describe it. You will have to read for yourself. Her words and insights are as profound as Paul Kalanithi’s When Breath Becomes Air.  Perhaps it’s their subject, death. Perhaps it’s their Asian background. I first learned of Paul from an article in Stanford Medicine’s journal called Before I Go. Yet another wonderful blog from an Asian writer living in Finland, is A Leaf in Springtime. I came across it a few years ago. She is a survivor of breast cancer.

I feel grateful stumbling across these writers. Grateful for their generosity of sharing their journeys. Words and stories are transformative. They are part of my GPS system. There is no reason to wander, lost in the wilderness when there are the words of those who went before us and those are here to lend us a guiding hand. To them, I say a big thank you.

 

 

 

PING! GOES MY HEAD

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I’m feeling somewhat euphoric. I’ve double checked my tax return and pushed the SEND button and made my payment electronically. I made a new folder (Taxes) on my Mac desktop, downloaded a copy of the return and dropped it into the folder. PING! I’m finally getting the hang of letting go, emptying and organizing. I was so excited that I did more cleanup of my Mac desktop. It’s still needs some work, but I’ve organized items into folders. I hope it will be easier to find things now. At least it looks neater and not so cluttered. Enough for now. Time to take a break and take Sheba for her walk.

It’s another windy day in Saskatoon. Good to see the city crew doing street cleaning, ridding some of the dust. I cleaned the yard of Sheba’s poop after our walk. Now I am pooped. I had to resusatate myself with a decaf and half a toasted baguette. I’m practicing restraint, hoping to look svelte for summer. I won’t be aiming for bikini thin, but something short of that is okay at this stage in my life. I think I’m starting to talk like Kinsey Millhone, a character in Sue Grafton’s alphabet series. I was indulging myself with a few pages of I is for Innocent with my decaf and baguette. Now I’m sleepy as all get out.

I’m probably a little overwhelmed by my progress. Such a great feeling! Everything working out. I feel like singing, At last, at last. Life is indeed like a song, Miss Etta.

 

IF YOU BELIEVE ME, COPY AND PASTE

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It’s very easy to get derailed and fall off the track. I’m taking care not to linger and languish as it is my weakness. I could have curled up all morning with Sue Grafton’s I is for Innocent. I found it last week while I was sorting and dusting my bookshelves. I didn’t even know I owned one of her books. That’s the wonder of just collecting and not inspecting what I have. I get to oooh and aaah over new found treasures like a kid.

I could have lingered all morning, but I didn’t. It wasn’t easy but I got off my duff. I did my qigong routine. I tried to put my awareness on my movements but that darned mind kept wandering off. I had to rein it in time and time again. In my mind’s eye, I was emptying all the unnecessary stuff out of me with each outbreath. It was relaxing. I felt lighter as I breathe out all the crap.

Practice does make for better. Guess what? I’ve finished reading Joe Dispenza’s Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself! Now to put into practice what I have learned. I tend to gather information and stop there. Having the information doesn’t accomplish much except that I have the knowledge. Without use, it is useless. It is much like Facebook’s copy and paste. Have you thought about what that does? It’s just copying and pasting. You haven’t done a damn thing. That’s my way of thinking but I’m opened to hear a good argument to the contrary.

What have I done with my morning?

  • Qigong as mentioned.
  • Deboned 2 chicken (both partially eaten) for souping in the Instant Pot.
  • Making list for shopping at Costco this afternoon.
  • Vacuumed the kitchen and dining area.
  • Writing this post.

It’s a lot for me, the Languishing Queen. I’m happy with my results. I’m enjoying travelling in the slow steady lane, going as far as I can see what is in front of me. Maybe I can slowly increase my speed as I get the hang of things.

 

THOUGHTS, WORDS, MOODS

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I ate all the leftovers brought home last night from the Mandarin Restaurant. Zero waste with one plate and a fork to wash. I enjoyed it but it did not pass my mother’s taste buds. Not enough ingredients. Ingredients not good quality. Not very much meat. These were her pronouncements. I have to admit that I am not very discerning. Like Sheba, I like anything edible. She was right about the meat part – small and covered up with a lot of veggies. It was perfect for me. I’m not over sated from a few chicken pieces and a pile of bok choy.

I’m enjoying my second cup of Orange Pekoe tea for the day. I can feel myself wanting another cup. I will refrain. I will tap a few more words, rise and clear up the few dishes. Then I better get started with the bread. It will interrupt my Orange Pekoe craving and keep the flow of the day going. I’ve discovered that I could get a lot done by spending a little bit of time doing this and that. It also breaks up bouts of grumpiness, surliness and depression.

I don’t want to mislead anyone about my moods. I am certainly grumpy alot of the time, especially when I was working. But I wouldn’t call myself that now. The same goes for the depression. I am one who feels things deeply. I have been told that I have high standards and I hold everyone to them. I still have the same high standards. I’ve let go of the hold though. What anyone else does is no concern of mine. It took awhile for me to see it. Seeing it now, I feel so foolish. Such a busy body I am, judging others. Most of all, such a waste of energy! It took me away from caring for myself.

You see – I can learn. I can talk a new talk and do a new walk. I don’t have to keep going down the same garden path. The dough is poofing in the oven and I’m sitting with my decaf. I am a little pooped from standing, mixing and kneading. I’m happy to sit till the timer calls me to punch the dough down, shape it into loaves and poof again. It was some wonderful quiet time kneading and slapping the dough into a ball. It was like a love affair of some sort. Needless to say, it was very satisfying. Even Sheba was cooperating, not barking her fool head off.