NOT ANY TIME SOON

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September 12/20

It’s another Saturday morning. My Sheba is on my mind, good memories of our time together. My arm is still aching down to my hand from my shingles vaccine earlier in the week. This reminds me of my mother’s experience with shingles. It also started on a Saturday. It was a very, very bad time. Hence, my vaccine. She was very vocal in urging all of us to get it. Thankfully she’s recovered with minimal damage.

Not all Saturdays are equal. I still love Saturdays. It used to be my weekly swim morning before Covid. I’ve adjusted to Tuesdays and Thursdays now. Double the pleasure. I did cancel out twice this week. Apps are so wonderful in many ways. I just push the CANCEL button to unbook my time. No questions asked. It would have been wonderful if there was such an app for work. You wouldn’t have to worry about not sounding sick enough phoning in sick.

Saturday mornings used to be cleaning chore time when I was a kid. We used to live in this small rented house behind our cafe in Maidstone. It belonged to the town doctor. The kitchen floor was worn through in spots. I can still see it in my mind’s eye after all these years. It made for difficult washing.

Sept. 13/20

It’s Sunday and I’m stuck. I have lots to do but can’t seem to find a way to start. Have you ever been here? I was like that yesterday, too. I couldn’t even finish yesterday’s entry. I’ve left it hanging and dangling. Will have to backtrack. What I did do was tackle things that I could start on -like cleaning behind the fridge and stove and cleaning the toilet. I did a load of laudry and picked a pail of tomatoes. So it was not a lost day.

I will have to do the same today. Start where I can. I will sort the tomatoes.

September 17/20

My energy is one with autumn. It is the season for slowing down. I certainly have! I’m resigned to it. I go to bed each evening with new resolves of doing better, doing more. I wake up each morning not wanting to and not knowing how to. There’s nothing to do but do the best I am able to. I will move if there is something urgent. That is how we are built. If there is an emergency, we will bust ass.

In the meantime, I’m putting one foot in front of the other. It’s not as if I am just parked on my butt all day. It just feels so. Feelings can be false. I’ve stuck to my exercise regime – swim Tuesday and Thursday. I did not push the CANCEL button. AND I went to the AM Energizer aerobics class on Wednesday. Hurray for me! My lunch dishes are done. I’ve rinsed off my swim suit and gear from this morning. I’m showing up here, tapping as best as I can. What I really want to do is to fall asleep and wake up energized. I don’t think it’s going to happen anytime soon.

But onward ho!

 

THIS IS WATER

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September 8/20

I cancelled my swim this morning. I’m trying to find a good reason for it besides not wanting to. The not wanting should be good enough but the mind feels guilty. To assuage the guilt, I’m showing up here. God formid that I should waste time laying around, eh? Today would be a good day for it. It was -2 C when I woke up. But it’s toasty warm here in my space. The sun is shining through the recently washed windows. I’m happy sitting here and tapping out thoughts and feelings.

I’m not all about cancelling and lolling around though that’s how I feel most of the time – lacking motivation and energy. It seems that my feelings and how I see myself can be false. It’s part of my physicality. Now that I am aware, I can work with it. I need not trash myself so much. When I am in the state of not ‘wanting’ to do stuff, not much can come out of it even when I push and push. I learned that the hard way in the water, trying to do the breast stroke. I struggled with perfecting techniques. It was a hard and slow going. I felt like a turtle inching my way down the lane. My back ached. Then I had a thought. Why don’t I just be with the water?

The thought was triggered by memory of David Foster Wallace’s commencement speech, This is Water. I don’t know why it came. Maybe it was because I was in the water. Funny how things pop into my head. They travel through the air. It’s really light bulb moments literally. I appreciate them very much. Otherwise, I would be in the dark alot, not aware, dumber than a bunny. I read his speech again. It is an education and an understanding on how to think. And I am aware. I am in the moment. This is water.

September 9/20

I’m learning to date my visits here. Sometimes I leave posts not completed. Sometimes I don’t come back for days and weeks. My thoughts are left hanging. They get dried and lose meaning. I’m trying to improve. That is the essence of me. Self improvement is my middle name.

September 10/20

This is turning into a diary. It’s a good way of staying on track when I lose will and ambition and the power of memory is fading. I’m in a bit of a grouch. I wonder if it could be one of the side effects of the shingles vaccine from Tuesday. It sure is painful. My arm is still achy but I can raise my arm all the way above my head this morning. I don’t feel as flu like and miserable as yesterday – except for the grouchy part. I cancelled my swim again. I hope this is not me. On second thought, my arm is quite achy. I feel quite testy.

 

A TIME FOR EVERYTHING

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August 17/20

I can’t believe it went up to 35 degrees Celsius today. I am not fond of high temperatures in summer. It always bring back feelings of loneliness and isolation. Those memories of growing up in small town Saskatchewan are hard to shed. It comes with being a child of immigrant parents. Though I never thought we were poor,we were. And we were strangers in a strange land. I remembered the starkness of our no frill lives. Though it is what I strive for now, I felt the lack that I can identify now.

It mattered then not having Christmases, birthday parties and such. It probably was because most people in town did. It mattered that I couldn’t have a bicycle or take swimming lessons. It mattered that we didn’t take vacations. Our cafe was opened every day except for Sundays all year. So we never got to go anywhere, even out of town much. No vacations. No lakes. There was Sunday School which I hated because I had no special clothes. I remembered getting feather dustered when I mutinied and refused to go.

Why am I dredging up all this shit? Because it is hot. It triggers bad memories. This morning I came across the name Natalie Goldberg. She advocates in her book Writing Down the Bones, “Write what disturbs you, what you fear, what you have not been willing to speak about. Be willing to be split open.”  That’s the way I’ve always written anyways – raw and from the heart. I have no shame.

Sept. 5/20

It’s another Saturday. It’s 16 weeks since Sheba’s left us. Though I am at ease with it now, tears still sting my eyes at the mention. It’s not a bad thing. Love does not leave with the physical body. She resides in my heart forever. It’s another Saturday. It’s not my swim day anymore. Now I swim Tuesday and Thursday mornings. It’s all the better, double the pleasure. There’s only 3-4 people in the pool at that time. Lots of space, easy to relax and enjoy. I don’t have to worry about someone grabbing my toes. I am a turtle in the water as well as out!

I have not been showing up here much lately. I fell off my writing wagaon again. It happens. Words and conversation left me. I enjoyed the silence and absence of my chatter. I enjoyed the change. I am trying to get my shit together. It’s a lifelong project. I guess that’s why I can get up every morning. There’s always something to do. There’s always something new to learn. What I am trying to learn now is how not to scroll my mornings away. These are beautiful precious hours to be spent on my life, not peeking through someone else’s. It’s a good reason to return to the keyboard – to focus on what is really important to me.

An important observation I made lately is that I no longer mind/dread the changing seasons/weather. I see that they all have their gifts. I’m reminded of the song Turn, Turn, Turn. I’m speaking, of course, through rose-coloured glasses now. It is a beautiful warm September day. Time will tell.

To everything turn, turn, turn
There is a season turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose
Under heaven

THY NEIGHBOUR’S KEEPER

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Saturday afternoon. It’s a little bit warm here on the deck. I’m sweating a bit but I like the out-of-door light. I’m tapping on the keyboard and sipping on the last of my strawberry kombucha. I have fallen a little out of love with my ferments. You know how it goes with loves. Maybe it goes with my August struggles. I’m struggling with most things this month. But I have to put one foot in front of the other. That’s the only way to get somewhere, anywhere.

I find that words begat words.  It’s how a conversation is started. First a word or two. Then a sentence. Then an idea. Soon there’s a flow, an exchange back and forth. Sometimes you can’t wait for the other person. Some people are not starters. They can’t or simply won’t. I don’t want to turn into a silent stone waiting. I talk to myself often in my head or on the page.  And myself talks back to me. It is often quite rewarding.

Funny that it is so toasty warm now. It was quite cool in the morning. And being Saturday morning, I was a little sad that there’s no more Saturday morning swims because of Covid-19. And a bit melancholy because it is the day of Sheba’s leaving. It is not a bad feeling. It is because I love her. I’m remembering and feeling her presence. It is a warm feeling. AND I have made Tuesday morning my new swim day. I’ve booked my time at the pool for the coming week.

I’m moving steadily if not speedily forward, taking things in stride. My people are well and healthy. My world is peaceful at the moment. The neighbourhood is quiet for the most part though Dxxxy behind and one over behind us was revving and roaring his motorcycle this morning. It was thunderous and heart pounding. It was something quite annoying when I wasn’t feeling on top of the world. But I am happy he is not next door to me. I’m not the one he called a bitch. I’m not the one he threatened to burn the house down with me in it. This on account of his neighbour’s tree doing damage to his shingles.

Well, it’s not all about trees and shingles. Dxxxy has/had a brain tumour. But he is still driving his truck and motorcycle. He is still at large in the world as is my neighbour. No, it would not be fair to lock them in jail because they have an illness. But then neither is it fair to us, their neighbours, to suffer their behaviour. Life is not fair. We all know that. I guess it is up to the strong to look out and give a helping hand to our weaker neighbours. We are each other’s keepers. We can’t just let them run amok, can we?

It’s good to remember the words of Desiderata.

GO PLACIDLY amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

By Max Ehrmann © 1927
Original text

PATIENCE AND STICK-WITH-IT-NESS

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So here is the thing. Life is full of distractions. My attention span is getting shorter and shorter. I often don’t follow up on my plans and practices. It’s part of my humanness. But here I am, showing up again. This must be part of the practice. I’ve given up on perfection. It’s hard to maintain. It is not possible. There is a flaw in me, everybody and everything else. It is part of the universal struggle. Life and nature happens. That is the law. There is no blame.

I am struggling these August days. Mornings are darker and cooler. I miss the light and warmth of those summer days when the sun rises by 5:00 am. Then, my sunroom was bathed in bright light and warmth. I was infused with its warmth and brightness. My unease is a response, a signal that autumn is on the heels of summer. No need to worry or panic. It is my nature’s response to the shortening of the days and lengthening of the nights. I’ve been this way forever and a day.

It is time for me to accept and come to terms with this part of me. I have. I’m doing so much better after having Sheba in my life. Her physical leaving was difficult but it is nature’s cycle of life and death. Nothing can change that. And so I grieve and miss her. Some days more than others. Then the grief changes. It grows softer and I’m left with those tender precious memory of her spirit and our time together. I sift through the lessons learned and strength gained.

I raised her from scratch at 2 months old – with just one book from the library and a largest dog crate from PetSmart. Boy, it was a tough go for quite awhile. I expected a puppy to have breakfast and walk together with. I did have that but it took years instead of days. There were so many days that I would moan and groan. There were many days that I almost gave up. Her beauty and brain were her saving grace.

She was so pretty. She would shake a paw and then the other paw. She could crawl and roll over in no time. But she did jumped alot and was scared of everything. I knew nothing of dogs. I knew nothing of  a Border Collie Lab mix. Sheba was that EverReady Bunny. We did alot of walking. We went to off leash parks. We got into trouble here and there. I lost 20 pounds with all that exercise.  In the end, she and I were a perfect pair, soul mates. She taught me the rewards of patience and stick-with-it-ness.

I’ve come full circle. I am dogless, Sheba-less. I’m not quite the same though. I am stronger and more accepting of how things are. I am more accepting of how I am. I cannot force myself or others to be other than what we are. But I can change the way I think and see. I can choose to see my glass half full instead of half empty. I can accept my vulnerabilities and work with them instead of fighting against my natural tendencies. It’s sticking with me now. I now longer run away from my shadow self.

 

 

A GOOD PRACTICE

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It’s another first day of the rest of my life. I’m as grumpy as all get up. Summer heat makes my whole body ache on rising. But I shall grin and bear it. I’m going to tackle my most dreaded chore of tackling the paper pile today. I’m not exactly fresh nor energized but mornings are still my best time. We’ll see how I will progress. Nothing happens if I don’t begin. Beginning is hard. Beginning is the magic word.

Purging is the first step. Boy, what a chore! I’m very bad at not opening my mail. That was my first pile. They’re mostly opened now and put in their appropriate piles. I’ve had this problem for a long time. It’s something that I do know. There’s only one way to correct it. That is to open my mail and deal with it ASAP. Let me put it on the list of bad habits to correct. I’ll start off August with opening each piece of mail. Let me to see if I can do that for the whole month.

It is now middle of the afternoon. My box of paper is not overflowing anymore. My bills are paid. I will not try to do any more hard sorting today. I do feel less overwhelmed. Why do I keep doing that to myself, eh? Over and over. I will not try to deal with the psychology of all that. No need to be that gerbil on the wheel. I can just fall off and do the work.

It’s another first day of the rest of my life. There has been a couple of such days since the last. I don’t profess this great or inspired writing. I just want to chart my progress of this journey call life. Once you hit a certain age and certainly after retirement, there are less significant markers. But I can’t say that for this year. Covid-19 is a huge marker of 2020. Myy mother’s shingles experience is memorable but with a good outcome. Sheba’s leaving us for doggy heaven was heart wrenching but natural in the order of life and death.

It’s good for me to do my tapping/talking here. I know I’m not being correct when the words hit the page. I can do an edit. But if I keep it all inside, the words and worries will turn over and over, fester and grows infectious. They can poison my body and soul. This is a good practice for me. Now that I’ve tapped out a few words and thoughts, I will head over to sort some paper clutter. Another day in the life of….

SATURDAYS & SHEBA

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August 1, another Saturday. 10 weeks since Sheba’s left this world. Time and life seem strange in this Covid-19 times. Perhaps we are more alert, paying more attention to what is here now. No more Saturday morning swims for this year. I can go swimming on weekdays. I have to book a week ahead. Only 8 people allow in the pool at a time for lane swimming. I will wait for now. There’s my morning bike rides and work in the gardens. Today I am working on decluttering my head and my desks.

I’m learning that everything takes time. What a surprise, eh? It’s already after 11 am. I’ve cleared off and dusted desktops and watered the plants. What a mess! I have to stop painting here or clean up right after. Ridding dried acrylic paint splashes on the iMac, glass surfaces and everything else is a chore. And why can’t I clean my brushes right after instead of leaving them in the dirty water? So many bad habits. No wonder my brain is like scrambled eggs. All the paper stuff are in a big box – to be sorted later.

It is a new day and a new month. I get a new chance to do better. I’m making time to gather my thoughts and energy to take another step forward. Surprising how those aha moments come to light the way when I stop, breathe and have a look. All I get when I rush around is confusion and reaction. What I want is calmness and thoughtfulness. It will give me time to be aware of what is going on. Time well spent leads to life well lived.

As you can see, I haven’t been rushing around. It is Monday night and I’m still working on this post. I wonder what happened to the rest of Saturday and Sunday. Well, at least my desk is still clean and somewhat orderly. I haven’t been here to mess it up. The truth is I’ve been caught up in Netflix’s TV series, Bloodline. I’ve been binge watching weekend nights. I’m up till 1 am. It’s no wonder I’m not too spry or impassioned to write.

It’s not a bad thing. It’s a break from my routine. A change is as good as a rest which is what I did this afternoon. I rested. I had a nap. I’ve been like an energized bunny all these years. I’m not fast but I’m doing something all the time. I seldom nap. I seldom do nothing. I’m always reading something. Mostly it is on my devices. My attention span will not allow me to hold a book for long. The things that happen when we scroll and scroll.

I’m adapting to life without the physical Sheba, without our walks and romps in the park. It’s ok. There are bike rides to the community garden. There’s the work in the yard and garden. I’m as busy as ever and she is always with me somehow. The house is easier to maintain. I don’t have to sweep and vacuum the floor every day. No more endless dog hair.

It’s getting late. I heard the pitter patter of a few raindrops. Then it stopped. I should stop, too. I’m calling an end to my useless mutterings.

SUCCESSES AND FAILURES

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I’ve never given much thought to the meaning of the dog days of summer. Given to the context of how I hear it used and how it sounded, they meant summer time when you can see the heat sizzling from the pavement. The phrase always summon up images and memories of that summer in New York City. I can still see the steaming sidewalks, hear the rat-tat-tat of jackhammers, sirens, the crowded streets of  Canal and Mott Streets. I can still feel the loneliness of summer in the city.

I still struggle with the dog days of summer. I still struggle with life. There’s no easy way about it. Everything takes effort. I like to think that effort makes it worthwhile. But I’m simply justifying, explaining and maybe apologizing for my lack of skills and successess. I do feel like such a failure sometimes. What do I really have to show for these years of hard effort? Ok, I have:

  • A nursing career. Nothing spectular but 30 years of rotating shift work. No nurse of the year award but have caused no harm.
  • No husband. No children. A companion of 10 years.
  • No wealth. A good pension. Nice house with garage and yard. No debts.
  • Not the most popular gal in town. Have a few good friends. I can count them all on one hand. One bad neighbour.
  • Experienced unconditional love for almost 14 years. I’m talking about my fur baby, Sheba. She’s in heaven now.
  • Ignited a couple of old passions – my paints and sewing machine.

Perhaps I am not doing as bad as I thought. I have a few good things. When those dog days come, all I can see and feel are my dark side and failures. It helps to make a list of : successes and failures, pros and cons, places I’ve been, things done, etc. Then tally up the score to see the results. I had meant to show up every day for the Ultimate Blog Challenge but the dog days got the better of me. Total counting today, I’ve shown up for 17 days. It’s a little more than 50%. But I did complete the Daisy Yellow Index Card a Day Challenge. I painted 62 index cards for June and July – one extra.

Did I reach the goal I set for this challenge? I think I have. Right in the moment I’m not exactly jumping up and down with glee and excitement. I feel somewhat sedate and at ease. I’m satisfied in the now. I have no wants. I am at peace – even with my badassed neighbour. Perhaps she is getting help with her mental health. Perhaps there is hope. I’m not all about struggles. I’m not all about depression. I have those treasured moments of seeing dust motes in sunbeams. I have the ability to see beauty and feel joy.

So ends another Ultimate Blog Challenge. Hope to show up more next time around.

WHAT I KNOW ABOUT NARCISSISTS

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It’s a cool but sunny Sunday morning. I’m showing up here to write my post for the Ultimate Blog Challenge. These days I’m so easy distracted. My mind feels fractured, like a cracked mirror. Images and ideas are splintered. I have to work hard to bring my brain back to attention. Today I want to talk about what I know about narcissists. I’ve spent this past month learning about them. It is important because I live next door to one. She is what I know is true – a malignant narcissist. How do I know that? Here are some of the ways.

  • She, like all narcissists, is controlling, have low levels of empathy and high levels of entitlement. It’s her way or no way.
  • She has been destructive. She has ripped up signs and fencing in my yard. She has kicked over my flower pot. She has sprayed pesticide in my yard.
  • She enjoys harming others. She likes to tell me that all the neighbours hate my yard. She has thrown my landscaping rocks at me on two occasions. She has stirred up trouble for the ladies across the street with their neighbour  whom she has befriended. She doesn’t like their yard either. She went up to a couple on the sidewalk and asked, Why are you looking at that ugly yard?
  • She’s cold, calculating and very good at lying. She tells me she studies all by city bylaws. She knows alot of people in city hall and also the police dept.  She calls us bullies when it is she who is doing the bullying. She tells me my fence is her fence. All these things she says to me, she doesn’t say to the police.
  • She has exhibited anger, rage, harshness – the attitude of NOBODY MESSES WITH ME.
  • She is authoritarian, forceful, insistent and dominant. She will not allow me to speak so it is laughable when people advise me to talk things over with her. Last fall the police said that she would not allow him to talk. She talks over him. This was before he had talked to us. We did not influence his perception. I have not been able to even yell over her. She is so good at her game.

I’m heeding Dr. Les Carter’s advice. I have developed a healthy fear of her. She can and has come at me. I have not ever or will ever win an argument. How can I when she won’t allow me to speak? She is very fixated on my yard and me. She is very vigilant and notices any little thing I do in the area next to her driveway. She retaliates even though it is on my own property. I would say she has an altered sense of reality. I don’t expect her to change, not for the better. She has gotten worse. I will avoid her altogether if possible but I will not let her bully me.

I do need to stand my ground and not let her push my boundaries. I do live on a busy street. The police liason officer has visited us a couple of times since last fall. Neighbours have a way of noticing. I will be diligent in holding onto my own morals and in practicing good mental health. That will be another post – maybe tomorrow.

LIFE ANEW

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Tomorrow will be 9 weeks since Sheba’s left. Before Covid-19 I remembered Saturday mornings for swimming and breakfast at A & W. Now it is the day Sheba went to heaven. I am a tad sad. How could I not be? But mostly I’m grateful for the wonderful years I’ve had with her. In this moment those years seem so short. They sped by in a blink of an eye.

This month of July is going fast too. August is almost here. 7 more days for the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I have mostly shown up for it. It is serving my purpose. I am reaching my goals and beyond. I am recovering the lost bits and pieces of myself that I valued. I am in love again with the beauty and magic of the word. I know and respect its power. I am disengaging from the badassed neighbour’s energy.

I’ve been doing my homework on learning all I can about narcissists by watching Dr. Les Carter’s videos on surviving narcissism. There’s a wealth of helpful information. I’ve been getting alot of aha moments today. Bing! Bing! Bing! Moments of insight I never had before. And I go, wow! That’s why I’ve been having such a difficult time not only with my neighbour but other people as well. I’m seeing that we all have narcissism in ourselves. It’s all a matter of degree and kinds.

It is Saturday today – the day Sheba left 9 weeks ago. I’m adjusting and adapting to my new reality. I’m doing fine but it is a bit of a job. I’ve been learning huge lessons. Feeling so fortunate to have the experience of unconditional love of my fur baby. I wonder if it is possible to have the same with another human being. It gives me a reference guide when I’m having trouble with people.

I have so much I want to share from what my study of narcissists. I’m having difficulty in articulating today. I will have to leave it for another post. What I like about Dr. Les Carter’s videos is that he does not talk about retaliation, getting even. He emphasizes on anchoring down on things that are important to you – simple moments of enjoying music, art, service to people, being a voice of goodness to others. I will heed and experiment with his advice. Let go of ideal plans and think of what am I going to do with my day.