Same Time Last Year

Sunny Sunday at last! It’s a reason to cheer. I’m feeling a little more optimistic. I have my blue sweater, earrings and eyebrows on. I’m not moving any faster but breakfast and dishes are done. The kitchen floor swept. I have plans of picking up my knitting needles and starting another logcabin quilt. My sister said she would love one. It’s easier when you are making it for someone. Having projects is good for the heart and soul. And it is good to follow through and finish. So I shall work on following through to finish this Ultimate Blog Challenge.

I am feeling grateful on this Sunday remembering how far I’ve come from the same time last year. This time last year was the 3rd month after my mother had passed. I had tubes in my ears. I was still without much hearing but had alot of choral music and singing in my head. It drove me a bit batty. I felt cognitively impaired and exhausted. The good thing was I was able to sleep. It was in January that I started a daily journal, charting how I was hearing and the noise in my head. I stopped sometimes in June because I was too focused on my maladies. It wasn’t good for my mental or physical health.

This time last year I was stressed and distressed. I was surprisingly not depressed. I knew I had to be careful and not sink into those blues. I had to keep my spirits up to heal. I read Caroline Myss’s and Herbert Benson’s books on healing. I meditated on the word joy. I painted it. I walked to the mall, the Dollar Store, the Asian Market. I walked somewhere every day. Today I am surprised by how much I did this time last year.

I am rejoicing at this recollection of my warrior self. I still have it in me to ‘joy’ on. February is on the horizon. My 2026 100dayproject will be doing another 100 logcabin quilt squares. I better sharpen my rotary cutter, clean and oil my Bernina 790 sewing machine.

Working at Effort

Photo by energepic.com on Pexels.com

January has not been its cold and sunny self. It’s been mostly mild and cloudy. I am cloudy, too, weighed down with the grey and how the world is. I am not at all motivated and excited about anything. It’s work coming to the keyboard but I cannot give in and up so easily. But what do I have to say that would be helpful and not harmful? Have you ever been feeling this way? If you have, what helped or not helped?

I am grateful that I can still get out of bed and talk about it. I’ve never felt less like it, but I did go to the gym. My workout wasn’t off the richter scale. I don’t imagine it would shave off even an ounce but I did move, skip and flex a couple of muscles. I am grateful that I made our lunches and the dishes are done. My limbs are heavy like lead. My eyes want to close. I want to lay down and sleep till this is over. In this state, I am grateful for any effort I can make.

There were a few moments of little joy.

  • Stepping into a quilting store and seeing all the colour fabric.
  • Driving down our back alley and seeing the toddlers from the daycare playing. They stopped and waved at us with their little hands.
  • Watching this reel of a deaf 3 year old teaching his little sister sign language. Little hands are happy hands.

So, there! This is today’s effort for the Ultimate Blog Challenge. Not great but something is better than nothing. Or is it?

Wordless Wednesday – Happiness is –

Happiness for my 94 year old father is his new walk-in shower. He is still able to climb in and out of the tub but it was getting harder and harder. It is my pleasure to make this possible for him. The shower head is held onto the mount by magnetic so can be easily pulled off and be put up again. I will shop for a shower chair to him to sit in. My sister and I spent a 12 hour shift with him in ER Monday night. We are all alright. Our healthcare system is the way of our world – kaputs. We are thankful still for what we have and who we are. There’s always a silver lining to everything. I am half a pound lighter. Tickled.

Thanksgiving Blessing

Another beautiful sunny day for this Thanksgiving weekend. I have much to give thanks for – bounty harvest, good health and family. Beannacht is a poem written by John O’Donohue for his mother. It means blessing. And I say this blessing for my mother who passed from this life in October of last year.

On the day when
The weight deadens
On your shoulders
And you stumble,
May the clay dance
To balance you
.

And when your eyes
Freeze behind
The grey window
And the ghost of loss
Gets into you,
May a flock of colours,
Indigo, red, green
And azure blue,
Come to awaken in you
A meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
In the currach of thought
And a stain of ocean
Blackens beneath you,
May there come across the waters
A path of yellow moonlight
To bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
Wind work these words
Of love around you,
An invisible cloak
To mind your life.

August Heat

Another hot 30℃ August day, the kind of heat we wanted in July but never got. Makes me wonder what kind of winter we will have. So many unusual and unpredictable weather patterns. How will we navigate the future? Will our planet survive what we have been doing to it? And can/will we change our ways? We seem to be hell bent on going down the same path – fast everything, more money and more stuff.

I am not hopeful but at the same time, I am not hopeless either. I am still interested and engaged in this little life of mine. I am doing my best in not adding to the stress of the planet. Perhaps it means little to the grand scheme of things to say I recycle. But I do. I recycle and compost. I save rain water. I even save water I wash my vegetables with. Perhaps I do go a little overboard sometimes and exhaust myself. But I’m happy to have that extra water to throw on the strawberry plants. They pay back with beautiful delicious red fruits.

I feel very fortunate that I am able to do the work of growing my own food and to share some with family and friends. I am grateful that I find joy and fulfillment in working the soil. It keeps me sane and grounded when life is hard. And it is always hard.

Sunrise

It was so beautiful and comforting to see the sunrise this morning. I took a moment to give thanks to whoever/whatever is responsible for this day. I took time to sit in silence with my morning tea, for this day will not come again. The sun will still rise every day but the light and air will never be quite the same. Nor will the petunias and all the living things. I, too, will never see, hear or feel the same as I do in this very moement.

It is an astounding realization of how precious the present moment is. It brings to mind Mary Oliver’s poem The Summer Day.

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Clouds

Clouds got in my way for a few days. I’m struggling to find my way back. It’s difficult. I’ve lost my momentum and rhythm. Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides Now is one of my favourite songs. It speaks so true about how clouds are for me. I’ve been very much feeling them the last few days. It helps to know that I’m not the only one. For a long time, I’ve felt somewhat defective, an odd ball, a failure being this way. It’s hard to believe that we are all the same. We are. We are all human.

The clouds have at last delivered. It rained. I should say showered. It lasted only a few minutes. The sun is trying to come through. I should be grateful. And I am.

  1. I am grateful for any rain that fell.
  2. I am grateful that there are no smoke in the air.
  3. I am grateful that some of the clouds are lifting.
  4. I am grateful that I am still here, tapping a few words on my keyboard.
  5. I am grateful for Joni Mitchell’s song, Both Sides Now.
  6. I am grateful I can still feel gratitude.

Both Sides Now – Joni Mitchell

Rows and floes of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
Looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and they snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way

I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down and still somehow
It’s cloud illusions I recall
I really don’t know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way that you feel
As every fairy tale comes real
I’ve looked at love that way

But now it’s just another show
And you leave ’em laughing when you go
And if you care, don’t let them know
Don’t give yourself away

I’ve looked at love from both sides now
From give and take and still somehow
It’s love’s illusions that I recall
I really don’t know love
I really don’t know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say, “I love you, ” right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I’ve looked at life that way

Oh, but now old friends, they’re acting strange
And they shake their heads and they tell me that I’ve changed
Well, something’s lost, but something’s gained
In living every day

I’ve looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It’s life’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know life at all

It’s life’s illusions that I recall
I really don’t know life
I really don’t know life at all

Where Did It Go?

Going to the gym is another ice breaker to start the day . It’s a habit now. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday I would grab my gym bag and head for the door. It helps that somebody else is going, too and doing the driving. It makes it simple and easy. Of course there are times the habit is broken. The time getting back depends on how long I’ve lapsed. Good Friday is not a good enough reason to skip though the temptation is there.

I am sorely tempted to change my website again. I might just press the button after I post this and let things fall where they may. They say curiosity kills a cat. Well, it is killing me and I am wasting time wondering about it. It’s not that anything will get broken, right? It could mess things up but how else can a person learn?

Did I say it’s Good Friday? Sunday is Easter. Time is marching speedily along. I haven’t lost faith but I haven’t felt the reverence and holiness of this time for a long while. I miss it and wonder how I can get it back. It’s been a difficult year of losses. But I am also filled with gratitude for the life that I have and for our world with all its wonders. Of course, there are troubles. There always will be. It’s for us to work together and solve them.

The Things I Used to Do

A sunny April morning at 10 am but still dark when I woke at 6. I’m not bouncing out of bed yet. I am more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I am grateful for what I am and for what I have. I am still me. I have my spirit though it is a bit dampened. I have recovered my hearing. It, too, is a bit dampened. I can hear the running of the furnace and the flush of the toilet. I can carry on a converstion, listening and speaking, no longer relying on pen and paper.

Life is good. It is full of wonder and mystery. I try to bask in the warmth and light. I try not to ask too many whys to questions that have no answers. I am still healing. I do not want to lose any unnecessary energy. I try to dwell in moments of “remembered wellness.” I pray and ask for prayers. It all has helped me to be here today – tapping on the keyboard, finding my way back to the things I used to do. I’m doing it slowly, taking James Clear’s advice from his book Atomic Habits. I want to make things easy.

April Mornings

April mornings are still dark enough that I’m not ready to spring out of bed like an eager bunny. I still snuggled into my covers even though I’ve been awake for awhile. I have to work my way out in my head first. First I have to throw off the warmth of the silk quilt and let the cool air rouse me out of bed. Then the rest is history as they say.

I haven’t been keen on going to the gym the last couple of weeks either. I tell myself that it is ok. I’m resting and healing. I do enough. I move enough. I’m resetting, turning myself off to save energy. I am very careful now where my energy goes. I don’t want to lose any needlessly. There’s been many losses this year. I don’t want to cry crocodile tears. In fact, I haven’t cried at all with losing my mother in October. It seemed so strange to lose her after all these years. Then shortly after, I lost my hearing – all of it for awhile. I hadn’t cried then either.

Everything was strange, bizarre and traumatic. It left me no energy to mourn the passing of my mother. It left me no energy to be angry, sad or depressed. I prayed and asked for many prayers. After these many months, I have gained much of my hearing back. I am filled with gratitude and awe. It has been such a life changing year. So much loss and yet so much gain at the same time. I’m grateful for these grey April mornings, too. They’re restful. I don’t have to be an EverReady bunny, going on and on.