ANOTHER CUP OF COFFEE

Day 24 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m always happy to share another cup of coffee with the community. There’s something so warm and soothing sharing coffee and conversation with someone who’s truly with you in the moment. It’s like being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. I’ve been a nurse for over 30 years before retiring. I’ve had more than a few cups of coffee, too many for my health. My mug was never empty. It was good while it was good. Now the coffee I do drink is decaf and I always love a cuppa. If you were here with me, what could we talk about today?

I could probably wear your ear off with my chatter. I can get excited about the most mundane things, those very, very ordinary moments of daily life. I am captivated by thoughts and dust mote in sunlight. And if we were sitting at my dining room table, I would tell you about tablecloth that was years in the making. It started out as block building out of my extensive stash of material collecting. I had no destination, no end product in mind. Everything just evolved. I found the material was excellent to paint and embroider on. The blocks were perfect for story telling. Some are sewn together for a rich tapestry. Others are stand alones, each with their own story.

Life is like that, one block building onto another. And then you have history and stories to tell. Coffee and conversation are wonderful, isn’t that so?

MAINTENANCE TOOLS

Maintenance is important but very difficult for me. I rather close my eyes, walk away and not think about it. It catches up with me eventually and I have to deal with it. I’m trying to understand this phenomenon to make life more pleasurable. I suppose it is one of those things that has no explanations or it is plain obvious. Who wants to deal with their shit? Let’s not do the digging in head thing and just get on with it.

I’m observing myself and learning how difficult it is to overcome the habitual patterns of my old self. It feels so uncomfortable thinking and feeling, never mind doing different. The discomfort is painful in a sense that I’m stuck. I can’t go forward but I don’t want to go back. My body yearns the same old. My mind is fighting it. No, you don’t! It’s like wrestling food from Sheba’s jaw.

I’m hanging in there. It’s my daily struggle and challenge. It’s all a part of index cards, free motion sewing squares, daily walks with Sheba and charting my progress here daily. I’m still reading Breaking the Habits of Being Yourself. I have read 39% of the book. I don’t feel I’m being obsessed with things. I’m doing daily little bit of the things that matter and I enjoy. They’re like building blocks of stick-to-it-ness. I see the improvement little by little in my index card art and my free motion sewing. Seeing it gives me pleasure, satisfaction and encouragement to keep on, maintaining my momentum. The little cards and blocks are my tools.

I’m applying little blocks of time to organize my activities of daily living – clearing my clutter, keeping me and the house in health and order. It’s working, albeit much slower in the house department. Some things are harder to do than others. The plants are pruned, watered and fertilized this morning. The orchids are waiting to be repotted tomorrow. There’s endless things to tend to. Thinking in small blocks of time enables me to think everything is do-able. If I think the whole enchilada, I will stall and shudder to a complete stop for sure. So here’s to the little building blocks of success.

 

BUILDING HABITS, BUILDING DREAMS

27097_321356195886_8251743_nMornings are hard in the middle of December.  The sun does not show its face till 9 or later.  So lucky that we have Sheba to be our alarm clock.  She is quite persistent.  If licks on the face, runs at the bed doesn’t work, she will resort to loud barking to get us out of bed.  I am hungry!  I am hungry!  Get up!  Get up!  What is the matter with you people?

So another day begins.  It is 7:25 and we have slept in!  I think about hopping on the exercise bike with my book and mug of tea for a few minutes but thought was all I did.  Oh tomorrow is another day.  I will have to remember that for tomorrow and not let myself down and slide on the slippery slope of will power.  I am an adult after all.

So, this is another morning.  Wake up call again..at 7.  I get up, remembering my promise to get on the exercise bike.  I am feeling low and tired.  It is not visions of sugar plums dancing I see in my head, but the shooting at the school in Connecticut.  It is the cares of the world I am feeling along with my own uncertainties and heaviness.  But time has been my best teacher.  All the thinking and feeling and trying to understand and figure things out has not helped me in the past.

And so I sigh, get out of bed, make my tea and head downstairs to the bike.  I turn on my SAD light and set my timer for 16 minutes.  Those minutes are long and short at the same time.  My thighs ache and I stop to rest and sip my tea.  Hurry, hurry, get going!  Only 16 minutes.  You want to get going to get some good.  Only 16 minutes to read this book.  Pedal!  Pedal!

The 16 minutes are over and so is breakfast.  Those feelings of despair for the world come and go.  When they come, I remember that it does me no good to think and feel them.  I get up and move.  I put the breakfast dishes in the washer.  I wipe the counter.  I put away the towels someone has folded for me.  I sucked up Sheba’s hair off the floor in the kitchen, dining room and sun room with the electric Swifter.

The sun is out and I am sitting here, tap, tapping out my words.  What I am thinking now is about the irony of our world, our lives.  This is the time when we do have the world at our fingertips.  With a touch of a button, we can send a message across the world.  We can talk via Skype to someone on the other side of the globe.  We are more connected than ever.  Yet at the same time, we are more isolated than ever.  I am missing those times when we were more brave, daring…to be vulnerable and talk to each other, face to face, on the phone.  I miss those times when we were not afraid to be friends and say, I like you, I miss you.  I need you.

I count myself lucky that I can feel all these feelings.  Sometimes they are a BIG nuisance.  You have a life to live, you know, and you have to flog through all the heaviness of feeling, just to get out of bed.  But the rewards of trying and doing are very much worth it.  Cultivating good habits help.  I love Regina Brett’s:  Get up, dress up, show up.  Every time I can do that, I know that I am a success.

sunroomI find that I can accomplish great things if I show up.  Sometimes our worst of times can be our best of times.  My sun room is the best testimony to that.  Because of my ‘condition’ of Seasonal Affective Disorder, I look for solutions and possibilities.  And this is the end result.

We are all builders.  So let us build good things.  Let us build a better world.  We can start with just a single block.