I have fallen off the writing track. It was once my addiction, my meditation and my lifeline. Now it is a strenuous exercise, a has been and a difficult thing to resume. Tomorrow, I say. I will get back to it tomorrow. I have finally mustered enough will power to come to my keyboard. I’m tinkering with the letters and words. Can I make a sentence? Can I form a thought? Will my fingers find the magic and fly over the keys? Or will I fall back into my lament of another tomorrow?

Funny how easy it is to ‘being human’ and so difficult to ‘rise above it’. We use our humanness as an excuse. It is a good word. I’m only human. It is not my fault. It is all very true but how is it working for me? I’m reminded of Portia Nelson’s poem Autobiography in Five Short Chapters.

Chapter I

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost… I am hopeless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter II

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in this same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter III

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it there.
I still fall in… it’s a habit… but,
my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

Chapter IV

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

Chapter V

I walk down another street.

I’m walking down Chapter 3 today. I can be grateful on seeing the hole. Habits are powerful and I am who I am. Falling is not a bad thing. It is the refusal to get up and out that is bad. Life is a long street. It’s not all a smooth walk. There’s holes in the sidewalk. It’s good to read all the chapters and learn the lessons. I hope this is another beginning of another long writing affair. Till tomorrow.


It’s Day 2 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. There certainly is an increased traffic on the site. It leaves me a bit breathless, feeling unsure if I can keep up. It doesn’t help that I’ve just come back from our daily cross country ski. We decided to change the scenery and went to a different park with a ski trail. It was alot longer than I had bargained for. I had trouble getting up a little hill and ended up on my backside. I’ve enough experience now that I know how to get up. I just need some time just to lay there and gather my thoughts, look up at the sky and rest.

Some kind hearted man and woman happened to witness my downfall. The man gave me verbal instructions. The woman, I’m not sure she was his wife, kept coming at me to give me a hand even though I was adamant I didn’t need help. I wasn’t even thinking of Covid. I could get up by myself. He finally had to hold her back. It made me wonder if she has some sort of dementia. She never spoke. I’m not sure if I felt more assured by his telling me that they were vaccinated. Why did he tell me that? I think it made me feel more anxious. I try to reassure myself that though neither of us were masked, we were outside. I was breathing a bit heavy but they weren’t. I know I am ok.

That reminds me that I probably should have a mask for these unexpected events. If I had one on my pocket, I could have put it on. I need to keep one in the car, too. I righted myself, took off one ski and climbed up that damned slippery slope and back on the trail. I could see the guy’s yellow jacket way over yonder where our car was parked. I wondered how long to get over there. Soon I could see that I was getting further and further away, in the opposite direction of where our car was. I cursed under my breath and turned my skis around. It was a good thing he came for me in the car. He found me as I was crossing the road. Otherwise, I probably would still be out on the trail – in the dark.

I am tired and a bit disgruntled. But I’m still in this challenge and the100dayproject. My third log cabin square look pretty good. My squares look like stained glass windows. 100 log cabin squares will make a beautiful queen sized quilt. My order of supplies came from Amazon came this afternoon. I must admit that I was a little disappointed. I was expecting 30 quilting fabric clips along with seam rippers and whatnot. I only got 9. That kind of put a knot in my panities. I sent off a note to Amazon in the hopes of getting the other 21 clips.

I’ve had a full day. Time to pack it in. I need a little rest. My hands are sore from all the ripping apart of old clothes to make into new and from gripping my ski poles. Sometimes when I get going, I don’t know when to stop. I have to do it now.

PAYING FOR CHANGE- Day 68 in a year of..

Day 68, September 28, 2016 @9:08

img_7821The days are ticking off, ever so slowly when you are conscious and counting. Doing different is difficult.  I am so wired in to my feelings and reactions. Moving out of my grooves and ruts takes more than minutes, hours, days, weeks and months.  I have to be patient.  I have to be innovative.  I have to be kind to myself.  No snapping of elastic band on my wrist.  I have to be trained like Sheba – on a reward system.  A Loonie(a dollar) into the teapot for each day completed with a blog post.  I’m worth that.

It’s an uncomfortable feeling to commit, to put it in writing.  I want to get up and make myself a cup of tea. But I won’t. I will sit and stay here with the discomfort. I will sit and finish even though my head is screaming for tea.  At least I’m not screaming for a cigarette as in the past.  That is proof that I can and have changed.

img_7802Another gorgeous day.  I am sitting in my beautiful space surrounded by light. It’s the light I must follow though our shadows are ever present.  I will choose the high ways whenever I am able to.  But I must accept the dark places and not punish and blame myself or others for falling.  I can always get up and dust myself off – again.

Have you fallen?  Did you hurt yourself?  Did you get up?

Image from

A lovely sunny Sunday!  You couldn’t ask for a better day to go for a bike ride.  Can you believe it?   I haven’t been on my two-wheeler yet this year.  I can always blame it on the late spring and all the rain.  But the fact is, I am a bit of a scaredy cat.  I always worry about falling.  That, of course, preordains my fate.  I blame my fear on my childhood.  It’s a catchall for every insecurity and fear under the sun.

When I was a child in China, the bicycle taxi was our main transport if it was too far to go on foot.  When my mother visited her parents in their village, it was too far for me to walk.  I was too heavy for her to carry all the way.  She rented a taxi for us but it was her luck to get the same driver numerous times.

He was no Lance Armstrong.  He had no skill.  He shouldn’t have been driving/riding a bicycle at all.  In fact, he did get fired, but not before the damage was done to me.  He instilled the fear of falling in me!  Inevitably, somehow, he, the bike and us would end up off the road – in the ditch, among trees….Thank God, my mother was smart enough to tell him to let us off first when we got near water.

Here I am years later, the fear of falling still resides in me.  It doesn’t help that I was into adulthood when I taught myself to ride.  I would always rely on the curb to push myself off and to stop.  That limited my riding range and enjoyment.  Curbs are not everywhere.

IMG_7379It wasn’t till last year that I took some classes.   I’ve learned the proper way of starting up, stopping and dismounting – without curbs.  What a relief it was to discover that there is time to come to a stop and then dismounting.  I had thought you had to do both at the same time.  Quite often before, I ended up dropping the bike and hopping off.  Sometimes the bike and I dropped!  So no more of that now!  No more scraped hands and other body parts.

IMG_7363After a lengthy absence I still have the jitters starting off.  Can I push off successfully and remain upright? Will I remember how to shift gears?  Can I find the brakes?  What about the traffic?  And on and on. There is no stopping the mind except to push off.

This afternoon off we went – pushing onto the streets of Saskatoon.  We came to traffic lights and stop signs.  We passed ‘GO’  to Broadway and double scoops of ice cream cones.  No drips, no falls, no scrapes.  Just some exercise, sun and a lot of sweetness.




Sometimes when we are troubled and feeling all alone, it is good to step out of our comfort zone and step into the world.  We might see that we are not so different, so alone.

We would see that we all have our fears.  We all have dragons to slay, moats to cross and dreams to realize.  It is hard to lay oneself open, to be vulnerable, to be afraid.  But despite all this, you can still make a move towards where you want to go.

So I have slain one of my many dragons…..fear of falling off my bike.  I grabbed it by the throat and that fear is down.  But I do know that it can always rise again.  I do know that.  That is what keeps me humble, my arrogance in check.  But for now I can enjoy the ride and share this video of others’ similar experience.  I hope that you will enjoy the ride.



The karaganas are blooming in the park.  I wish that I had a camera but I do not so I just enjoy their beauty and fragrance and store the moment in my memory.  I will capture their digital essence another time.  Sometimes you have to give up one thing to have another.  Such is life.

The other evening, I went riding with my little biking class.  Can I say that I did awesome….for a total distance of 20 k’s?  Well, I did have one little wobble which ended up being a big, big wobble – and I came tumbling down the Jill but without Jack. But I got up and dusted myself off and got back on my ‘horse’.  Jack had to help me get up and untangle the chains.

I am a little bruised and stiff but none the worse for wear.  And the first wobble is the worst.  Now that I have experienced the worst wobble, I can get on and push off with confidence.  It’s what I tell myself anyways,  even though in my heart, I will always feel the beginning of fear at the beginning of that first little wobble before I pedal off into the sunset.

It is good that I feel that little trepidation.  It means I am alive and human.  I can feel that excitement of uncertainty.  What is life if there are no wobbles, no uncertainty?  Where would the challenge be?  So I am happy to say that my life is full of wobbles and challenges.  But everything is copasetic.  And perhaps one day I can sit astride my bike with ease and confidence.  THAT would be very copasetic indeed!

Bike 6

VENTURING OUT….on my tipping toes


It has finally rained.  I am hoping the rain will ease my unease.  But I am still venturing out, stepping out even if it’s on my tipping toes…tentatively at first.  I will be more bold when I land and not fall, when I know that the shoe will not drop.

Last evening we rode our bikes all the way to Broadway.  I stopped traffic a couple of times but I did not fall.  Even though I knew I have time, I felt pressured.  So I got off my bike and walked it across the intersection.  I can do that…stop and walk across.

So many lessons I have learned from riding a bike.  I have time.  I can stop and do it another way.  So impatient I have been. I rush at life the way I used to ride a bike.  I don’t take the time….for directions, to listen, to look, to see….often interrupting, finishing other people’s words, sentences.  I am better now.  Sometimes I can remember to wait.

The raindrops are falling steadily now.  It is soothing.  I am sipping dandelion tea from my zen teacup.  My roast is in the oven.  The letter is in the mail.  I can wait.  I have time.



This morning I set my priority to practice my cycling.  From a class last week I had learned that it is in the push off.  Push and glide.  Push and glide.  The momentum keeps me upright.  I don’t fall.  I push off, glide and rise to sit on the seat.  I do not have to do all three all at once.  I can not.  That is why I fall.  I have time.  It is amazing what directions and a few pointers can do for you.


I have time.  In the same fashion, I am learning to stop and get off a bike without crashing and falling to the ground like I usually do if I don’t have a curb handy.  I have time to brake, stop, and get off the bike.  I don’t have to do all three at the same time.  I cannot do it all at once.  That is why I crash and fall.  How amazing is that?

I have time.  This is my big life lesson from riding a bicycle.  I am doing my big push off in a different direction.  The momentum will keep me upright.  I have time.  I can glide.  There is no rush.  I can do one thing at a time.  I do not have to charge forward blindly, angrily, or in fear.  I will not fall.  I have support.  I am in good company.




Yesterday, I got back up on my horse, the bike, to see if I can ride it again.  It’s been 20 some years since I was on it.  I tried a couple of years ago but my confidence was gone and I failed and I fell and didn’t get back on.

It’s funny about the things that matter to a person.  It’s odd about the things that matter to me.  Getting back on the bike matters to me.  So out to the back alley I go.  I decide that the dirt was no harder to fall on the pavement of an empty school parking lot.  Besides, I have more privacy.  I do not want laughing eyes upon this mature fool falling off a bike.

Do you know how scary it is getting on a bike, especially when you have short legs and your feet no way can touch the ground even with the seat lowered to the max?  But….I once rode this baby to work in traffic.  I should be able to do it again.  There’s that word again….SHOULD.

With SHOULD echoing in my mind, I line my bike behind my neighbour’s fence beside some pipes where I could rest my foot and push off.  I breathe, I push, I fall….Too many grooves in the ground.  I could not get enough momentum to stay upright.

I dust myself off, pick up the bike and scan for another starting off spot.  I line myself along some landscape ties behind another fence.  Perfect!  I breathe and pushed off.  I cannot describe the fear I felt as I pushed off, letting go of gravity, letting go of touching something solid.  But I remain upright, riding down the back alley.

So back and forth I went in the alley.  I chose a place with a higher grassy bank to stop and get off, in case I fall off instead of getting off.  To my delight, the spot was high enough for me to push off from, too.  I’m learning to breathe and PUSH OFF, letting go and trusting in the universe and the law of gravity.

BREATHE, PUSH OFF, LET GO of fear and the shoulds of perfection.  Practice makes better.