Tag Archives: goals

WORDS AND RITUALS

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The roast is in the oven. Sheba and I have had our walk. She is fed and watered. The sun is still shining. Life is good again. I made it to my aerobics class this morning. It’s good not to feel like a mean person or a person with mean thoughts. My face is softer, less wrinkly and menacing. Smiles come without coaxing. I’m still humming, Heaven, I’m in heaven. It is one of the reasons why I write – to document these moments when the heavens shift whichever way it does. It is a testament of my moods, a referrel learning center to cast out shadows and doubts.

Memory can be tricky when I am not feeling my best. I can look back on my dated pages and see that my words and thoughts are not mean, dark or full of despair. They are my thoughts in words trying out different problem solving strategies. I document my light bulb moments and things that weigh on me. It’s a good thing so I shall carry on my daily ritual when possible.  How do you problem solve? What rituals do you have?

I’m getting to know myself well now through my writing. I do not always meet my goal of 1000 words a day. In fact I haven’t even done it once! It’s been 5 years and I’m still reaching. It’s what happens in the beginning of a new venture. I got excited and set a high goal. It is not a bad thing because it is reasonable, within reach. You wouldn’t want to set a low goal, would you? Where would be the challenge? I’m still aiming for that 1,000 words. But they have to be worthy for the ideas they represent and not for the word count.

This is all I have today. Will reach again tomorrow.

 

THE UNSPEAKABLES

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The phone rings. It is Annie following up on how my mother is doing. She works for A Home for Mom. In March I had been looking at Preston Park assisted living as options for my parents. My mom’s health had taken a sharp turn. It was time to think of new realities. Preston Park seemed to be perfect. It was in their and our neighbourhood. I’m sure I did 3 tours of both Preston Park 1 and 2. They both have excellent social programs, attractive physical space, and friendly staff and environment. It was pricey but I felt it was affordable and worth it.

The trouble was I was the only one in the family who was interested. But it was helpful going through the process. I can rest easier knowing that I tried, thought of options and investigated. Still I welcomed Annie’s follow-up call. Someone else cares and is showing interest in helping even though it is part of her job. I know it is our human nature to run away from knowing that our parents are declining. It is the other unspeakable besides dying. I would run, too if I could but I am the oldest. I am retired. I don’t have children. Those things seem to qualify me for many things exempt to those married, with children and jobs.

Annie is glad to hear my mother is doing better, stronger and steadier on her feet. She and my father are still able to stay in their own home. I have arranged for snow shovelling service for them through The Crocus Co-op and lawn mowing through Saskatoon Services for Seniors. So far, so good. Saskatoon Senior Services offers homemaking and housekeeping services, too. My mother feels she can still do those and enjoy doing them. My father can still drive so they can get out to their neighbourhood mall, shop for their groceries and see friends.

I know that December with Christmas is at the doorstep. I will be very happy to have a quiet boring holiday season and winter. Peace and contentment are the gifts I cherish the most. Health and creativity are my on going goals. The snow may fall and the wind may blow. If I have a roof over my head and the furnace to keep me warm, I shall be happy. There’s bread to be baked, soup to be made, all that yarn to knit, quilts to sew and a whole slew of art classes to watch and do.

 

I’m not a naturally enthusiastic or happy person. I don’t wake up with a song in my heart and dance on my feet. It’s more of a grumble in my throat and a stumble out of bed. Enthusiasm and joy comes slowly as the day unfolds. I didn’t relish heading out in the dark of this morning to swim. It was the memory of past great swims that got me going. Then the rest was easy. The warmth of the water, my weightlessness, the movement of my limbs – the flow. From experience I know that if I do not make the effort to rise above my nature, I would have less of everything – joy, health, etc.

CEMENTING WITH HENRY MILLER

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It’s a wintery snow falling on cedars kind of a day.  It’s a good day to snuggle up with a hot cuppa. If only Sheba would cooperate, be quiet and snuggle on her bed. No such luck, of course. Come any time after 2 pm, she’s a fussing for food and her walk. It’s early but she likes to push the clock. I’m giving her the silent treatment. So far, so good. Keep my fingers and toes crossed. It’s hard to type that way but…

It’s easy to let a few days and my routine go. Then it gets tricky to get back on track. I’m hoping the feel and rhythm of the keys will bring my flow of thoughts and words back. If not, then I will have to WORK like Henry Miller suggests. Good advice from a great writer. I like his 11 commandments:

  1. Work on one thing at a time until finished.
  2. Start no more new books, add no more new material to ‘Black Spring.’
  3. Don’t be nervous. Work calmly, joyously, recklessly on whatever is in hand.
  4. Work according to Program and not according to mood. Stop at the appointed time!
  5. When you can’t create you can work.
  6. Cement a little every day, rather than add new fertilizers.
  7. Keep human! See people, go places, drink if you feel like it.
  8. Don’t be a draught-horse! Work with pleasure only.
  9. Discard the Program when you feel like it—but go back to it next day. Concentrate. Narrow down. Exclude.
  10. Forget the books you want to write. Think only of the book you are writing.
  11. Write first and always. Painting, music, friends, cinema, all these come afterwards.

Number 10 is easy. I’m not writing or even thinking about writing a book. I’ve given up on NaNoWriMo after a few tries. Writing 50,000 words in 30 days mean I would have to cough up 1700 words a day. I’m a snapshot and punchy lines girl. I have trouble writing a 500 word post. Forget 1700 words! I can revamp and my goal for 500 words/day. See how that goes. Aim a little higher.

Good luck to me. I didn’t make 500 words today, not even with Henry Miller’s help. I’m doing Number 6 though – cementing a little every day. Better luck tomorrow.

MATHEMATICS, EINSTEIN AND WAYNE DYER

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It’s another morning, another day. I’ve gotten up, dressed up in my day clothes and have I am. The mornings are still very dark at 7. There’s snow on the ground, on the spruce and on my lettuce bed. The buddhas sit unperturbed beneath their canopy. Their placidness amid all weathers is admirable. It’s what I strive for each day. I don’t always succeed but seeing them each time is a reminder. I try again and again.

Each day I get a new opportunity to try/do at what I yearn and have yet not achieved. How awesome is that? I need not dwell in the pit of self-pity and failure. Each day I can try something new, go down a different path. That’s what I have to remember. There is no point in keep doing the same thing, expecting different results. That’s wrong mathematics or insanity as Einstein and Dr. Phil would say.

I am a fan of quotes. They contain so much wisdom and truth in a sentence or two. Einstein said: “Nothing happens until something moves.” Wayne Dyer: “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” I’ve been putting these quotes into practice over the last year. Change is slow as it is difficult to be awake and conscious. I’ve been mesmerized and swept along the routine of everyday life. Sometimes I forget to stop and smell the flowers or the coffee though I love that quote. I’m trying again – stopping to notice, to smell, to document.

Now I have to move and do something else.

 

 

OH, HAPPY DAY HABITS

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Oh happy day! I slept last night, not as well as I wished but I was not tossing and turning. The sun is shining. The neighbour’s sunflowers are smiling over the fence. It’s 9 am. The day is before me to do as I please. There is nothing hanging over my head. No deadlines. No must do’s. Nothing. But that does not mean that I should just lull the day away. There are certain habits and routines to follow for a healthy life.

I have gotten up, dressed up and showed up, setting my intentions and goals for the day. I am one who does well with rather than without a program. I like to feel and hear the tap, tap of my keyboard. I like to see the letters and words march across my screen. It makes it real for me, this sitting here, talking to myself and you if you are listening. It’s a great compliment to me if you are.

What’s my plan for the day? First, my qigong routine to loosen and limber up. My shoulders are feeling it from my swim yesterday. Then onward to give the house a quick sweep of Sheba’s hair, harvest the grapes and clean them to make fruit rolls. Those are the important items for today. I’ve been doing my little art projects for awhile now. It’s a habit. I can fit them in easily. They are my dessert of the day.

BE THE CHANGE – Day 69 in a year of…

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Day 69, September 29, 2016 @9:17

img_7828Some mornings are harder than others.  This is one of them. I’m here. I’m prepared to sit and stay.  I’ve made my cup of tea before hand.  I will not have that excuse to flee.  I can sit, stay and sip through the discomforts.  I’m beginning to understand this phenomenon of procrastination – at least for me.  My brain is lazy.  It wants to do the same old, same old. It’s easier to stay in well travelled ruts.  It does not want new pathways.  It does not want a new circuitry.  I  DO.  I’m fighting my brain right now to stay awake.  Sleepiness is another way for it to flee.

img_7831The sun just came out to lend me a hand.  Thank you, Mr. Sun!  I need a little help today.  My tea is done but I’m not finished here.  What do I have to say? What do I want to say?  The going is tough. I feel like a gerbil on a treadmill. I’m moving but not advancing. My great deduction today is that if I want changes, I must be the change.  I must be the instrument.  I must DO.  I must make goals and lists.  Writing them down is concrete.  I cannot rely on goals and lists in my head.  It makes it easier to forget and disregard.

img_7821I made a move yesterday to reward myself $1 for showing up each day.  It’s tangible.  It’s working.  I will have $2 in my teapot today. I am working on making my basement a nice living space.  I will clean/clear a small area each day. I threw out 2 old humidifiers and a CD rack yesterday. I worked a little on the sweater I started this summer.  The secret I believe is starting and working small but steady.  Do not lose heart.

What is your goal today?

 

 

GETTING TO KNOW ME

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Sundays can be good for relaxing and letting go.  Today is one of those days.  Life and the snow are melting around me – in January.  I’m still unravelling.  Soon I will come to the end of the spool.  I wonder if I will bounce back and up like a yoyo.

I’m at this part of Susannah Conway’s Unravelling the Year Ahead:

Fast-forward to December 2015. You are sitting in a café, musing over the last 12 months. Where do you want to be…

IMG_0067… in your head? (work, dreams, goals)

… in your heart? (relationships, family, friends)

… in your physical world? (home, health, hobbies)

… in your soul? (beliefs, practices, self-love)

These are hard questions. I love the thought of sitting in a cafe with a hot cup of Chai – in silence and solitude.  Do I know myself to answer these questions?  It’s worth the time.  I owe it to myself to take time getting to know me.

Getting to know you
Getting to know all about you
Getting to like you
Getting to hope you like me

Getting to know you
Putting it my way
But nicely
You are precisely
My cup of tea

The King And I – Getting To Know You Lyrics | MetroLyrics

So I’m off to get acquainted.  Till next time, ta ta for now.

THE SHORT AND THE POIGNANT

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IMG_1905November can be such a cruel month with its steely skies and chilly winds.  It is almost 9 am.  I am fed and medicated.  It is very grey.  Raindrops are on the window panes.  There is nothing cheerful and inviting about today.  If I am not careful, I could fall into its doldrums.

I’m on the tail end of my cold, just suffering its passage.  I’m giving myself a vigorous shake.  I know the thing not to do is tell someone to snap out of it. But that is precisely what I have to do.  I have to grab the tiger by the tail and give it a good yank.

Snap out of it! Drop it!  Get on with it!  Whatever it takes!  I’m sick of it.  I’m sick of being sick.  Boy, I make a lousy patient! The thing is I have lost my momentum and I’m pissed.

I still had high hopes and tons of energy when I came back from France.  I had such plans of finally getting life in order, write a book or two, make peace with every Tom, Dick and Jane.  I had all my bags unpacked, clothes laundered and put away.  I was ready to tackle the real stuff next.  You know what can happen to the best laid plans.  Kapow!  My cough got nastier.  And the rest was history.

IMG_1907So here I sit, tapping out my anguish.  Joyce Carol Oates’ Sourland is giving me ideas but no immediate relief.  If anything, it is adding to my distress with life.  Sourland is a collection of 16 short stories.  Six stories in, I am finding them gripping and mesmerizing.  They are poignant portraits of flawed human beings with flawed lives.  Ugh!  I want life the beautiful, princesses and fairy tales right now.  It is my cold, my illness speaking.  Don’t listen to it.

IMG_1904It’s sapping my energy.  I feel like I need to have a rest,  then take the beast out for her walk.  She is also feeling desolate this morning, needing her toys to cuddle with. A little fresh air and exercise would do us both good.  I will just have to bundle up a little.

*****

The grey is more palatable being in it than watching it from indoors.  It is a relief to be in the great outdoors. The grey is not so oppressive.  It is drizzling just enough to get Sheba’s coat damp.  It is not too cold nor windy. We are alone on the streets on this Sunday morning.

The little exercise is refreshing.  I’m back here again.  I will put away my sick persona, pack up my cold symptoms and cast them out.  They are hampering me.  I don’t have it in me to write a 1600 words or even 1000 words a day. But I can still work on it. Perhaps I have enough in me to write my own poignant short story in November.   It’s not all or nothing. It’s one word at a time.  You don’t give up.  You don’t go back.  You don’t start from scratch.  You start from here.  I should listen to myself sometimes.

RIDDLE, FIDDLE, DIDDLE, DE

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My heart likes to do tricks in the morning.  I pay it no attention.  Let it do the fast elevator down.  It’s trying to grab and trick me into excitement.  I might be a slow learner, but I’m onto it now.  Though I like to dawdle in the warmth of my bed, I rise and greet the day.  It is still dark at 7 o’clock.

I smell fresh coffee perking.  The aroma is enough to satisfy me.  I know its tricks, too.  It is in cahoots with my heart, trying to get me going.  I make my Chai, strong and sweet.  I savour its spicyness.  It is enough.  My heart beats its regular rhythm – no more elevator rides.  It’s best not to think too much, to analyze and figure out the why of everything.  It’s not always wise to get to the bottom of things.  The bottom might fall out if you figure out all life’s riddles.

I have to leave things alone, let the mystery rest.  Quite often, there is no mystery or reason.  It just is.  I have found that difficult to accept.  I’m such a contradiction, you know.  I HAVE to know.  I HAVE to understand.  Why?  Why?  Why? is my lament.  I’m quite tired and worn out with my ceaseless ruminating.  Now, I’m trying to be more accepting of the universe.

Yesterday, I stepped into Alice’s Wonderland for 15 minutes.  I attended her tea party with the March Hare, the Mad Hatter and the Dormouse.  The conversations were fascinating, remarkable and nonsensible.  As I listened, I heard familiarities to real live conversations I’ve had.  I recognized myself in Alice, always interrupting and demanding things to make sense.  Her whys were answered with why nots.  And indeed, why not?  You might as well figure out life’s riddles with a fiddle.

Less ruminating and thinking for me.  More doing and sweating.  Those are new goals for me this month.  No pain.  No gain.  I HAVE to heed my own words and PUSH forward, live life in the present lane – 15 minutes  at a time.  You can stand anything for 15 minutes, right?

You can travel a fair distance in 15 minutes even within the normal speed if you don’t dawdle, window shop or stop for coffee,  I am pleasantly surprised at how much I can write, tidy up and read in that short time.  Yesterday, I attended Alice’s tea party, met the King and Queen of Hearts and her whole troupe in that time.  It is not always how hard or long I push.  The key lies in my focus and steadfastness.

IMG00232Different ways work for different folks.  What works for me might not work for you.  You have to fiddle and solve your own riddles.  My songs and mantras make sense to me, but you will have to march to the beat of your own drum.  And that is a blessing.  Wouldn’t it be a dull world if there’s only one way, one tune, one beat?  There will be no sound with one hand clapping.  You have two of them.  Use them both and clap with ferver.  Clap with glee.

Don’t start a revolution.  Instead, create a solution.

 

 

INSPIRATIONS IN 15 MINUTE SPURTS

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It is so easy to be distracted from your purpose!  I’m browsing through my Facebook page this morning, looking for any excuse not to write.  It is not a conscious decision, but I feel it gnawing at me – delay, delay!  Something is screaming at me inside.

Silcoff_home_aNot all procrastination is wasteful.  I did come across an inspiring post on Canada Writes.  It is about a woman, Mireille Silcoff who has a chronic disease and was confined to a period of bed rest.  She wrote her first book of fiction in bed in 15 minute spurts. It’s reminder to me that Rome was not built in a day, nor the Taj Mahal, or the pyramids of Egypt. Patience, woman, patience, I tell myself.

image from newyorktimes.com

image from newyorktimes.com

I was reading my emails on my iPhone in bed this morning.  A terrible habit, I know.  But I love warm luxury of those short or not so short moments before the day starts.  A friend had sent a story of a woman who walked 10,000 miles in three years.  The story of Sarah Marquis’s journey and a bit on Robert Falcott Scott’s expedition to the South Pole grabbed my attention.  It is something I would love am trying to do.  I don’t mean doing a trek or expedition.  I mean I am on the arduous task of completing a goal – writing a book.

Perhaps I shouldn’t use words like ‘arduous’.  It might discourage me.  Here’s the definition of arduous according to Webster’s online dictionary:

Full Definition of ARDUOUS

1
a :  hard to accomplish or achieve :  difficult <years ofarduous training>

b :  marked by great labor or effort :  strenuous <a life ofarduous toil — A. C. Cole>

2
:  hard to climb :  steep <an arduous path>
— ar·du·ous·ly adverb
— ar·du·ous·ness noun

Scary stuff, Huh?  Years of arduous training, marked by great labor or effort!  I have no doubt that Sarah Marquis and Robert Scott worked and trained hard.  There’s results to show for their efforts.  Am I cut of the same mettle?

I’ve been easily scared off, influenced and distracted off a chosen road many a times.  What would be different this time?  Already the thoughts are playing their song in my head.  “Even if I don’t write my book/novel/memoir, at least I AM writing.”  Already I’m making an escape plan, making compromises.  I have to stop.

bigstock-hand-making-a-stop-signal-sign-162901311

image from google.ca

Great_Sphinx_of_Giza_-_20080716a

image from en.wikipedia.org

I have to stop the negative self talk and start the I can, I can rant.  I can breathe and let go of the can’ts.  Breathe and think of the sphynxes and pyramids built in ancient times.  Picture the slow, but steady progress of the men moving one stone after another.  The magnificence of their work still stands today.

Can I put aside my impatience and discomfort for just 15 minutes at a time? I can build with one word after another on the page for 15 minutes at a time.  Can you see my sphynx yet?  Will it last till the end of time?  15 minutes is good enough – for now.  It is a start.