Do you know how much time you scroll on your phone? I don’t know for sure but it’s probably alot. The thing is knowing and trying to cut down makes it worse. It’s an addiction, like:

  1. Sucking your thumb for comfort.
  2. Kids wanting to press any button they see.
  3. Lighting another cigarette before you do anything.
  4. Having another cup of tea when you don’t know what else to do.

What I know is that I am uncomfortable in the moment and scrolling is an escape. I’ve outgrown sucking my thumb. I still press some buttons. I was able to give up cigarettes because of health reasons. I’ve cut down my tea consumption because of too many trips to the bathroom. The scrolling thing seems harmless enough and resulted in much sought information. But then I realize my attention span has dwindled to that of a gnat’s. Then there’s the memory. You say who needs it when there’s Google. True but I’m starting to feel somewhat robotic like. My emotions and thinking becoming muted. I’m like a deer in headlight, blinking, unthinking, not knowing what to do next.

Do you know how much of yourself you can lose to others whether it’s family, spouse, lover, friend or foe? You compromise, you turn a blind eye, you stay silent – giving up pieces of yourself to get along, to be nice, to be kind, to be…..I didn’t know until periods of depression, downtime, aloneness, stillness. In those moments of being the deer in headlight, I am faced with ‘I don’t know who I am‘. I am the stranger at the door in Derek Walcott’s Poem, Love After Love.

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

How am I to recover myself? What they tell me to do is to replace an unhealthy habit with a healthier one. So here I am, showing up more in this space, digging deep, trying to coax out the words I once love so much. It is hard work, being here. Being somewhere else is preferable. I made an escape to the garden and greenhouse. Then I had a snack. Now I am back with a cup of bitter melon tea to do the work.


Not so much after-lunch cleanup to do today. Leftovers are always great for that.  Besides being less prep and cleanup, I find them more flavourful. As you can guess, I am not a fussy eater. I don’t have fanciful discerning tastes. Maybe I should develop some and stop my many ‘good enoughs’. It probably won’t ever happen. I can’t fuss.

I’m just not that kind of a person. I could never make anybody jump through hoops for me. Nor can I make a salesperson, waitress/waiter ‘work for their money’. It’s a demeaning behaviour. It embarrasses me to see someone do that and enjoy it. I was an audience to such a display. I didn’t want to watch but I couldn’t help but see my friend’s smile. The waiter had to tell and describe to us all the desserts offered. We could have very well gone to look at the dessert case. It wasn’t like we had to walk a mile. But then that is just me. It’s no big deal and it was his job. Sometimes no big deal bothers me a lot. I should get over them.

It is 3 pm. Sheba has been fussing but I’ve quieted her. She is still quiet. I will wait till she barks again before giving her food. It is not like she is starving. We can both learn to sit and stay together. Do you know how difficult it is to stay in the moment? I always want to get to the next moment. My mind is already there. That’s what winners do, right? Always a step ahead. Or that’s what we’re led to believe.

I’m always thinking ahead of what I should be doing, where to go, what to striving for. It makes it difficult to be HERE. It is as if I, by myself in this moment, am not enough. I’m trying to change that. It takes patience and time. It is really difficult if you don’t know what the problem is. I’m beginning to understand just the tip of it. It’s like peeling an onion, a layer at a time. Oh, sometimes I do cry with the layer. Change is painful.

Sheba has been rewarded with her supper. She waited till I had poured it into her bowl. She did not rush at it like her usual self. You can teach old dogs new tricks. I am not so sure about myself. I am not consistent with her or myself. Therefore, our bad habits prevail. What I must do with her supper is 1) She has to wait till 3 pm at least. 2) She must sit and wait till I’ve poured the food in her bowl. Do I have the fortitude?

Her barking can make me cave in. It does make me cave in most times. She knows it. But today she has demonstrated that she is capable of doing a down/staying if only for a few minutes at a time. I had demonstrated I had patience to repeat the procedure a few times till Sheba herself stayed down longer each time.

We both can do it. We just have to stick to it. One layer of the onion peeled.



What can I say today? That I’m working to be in the world instead of in my head. It’s easy to be lost to thoughts, feelings, the Internet and so many other places. I’m trying to vacate those places and be in the here and now. But of course, it is not easy. The first thing I read this morning was accounts of the Canadians killed in the Vegas shooting. Tears ran down my face. What a way to start a day. Failed before I began.

I made a turn around PDQ though. Having talked about self compassion yesterday, I gave myself some. Instead of scolding myself, I made porridge. Then added some walnuts and dried cranberries. Comfort and brain food. I thought a boiled egg would be so nice. And it was. Having nourished myself, I headed off to my aerobic exercise class. It’s good for the brain and heart.

Thus, I moved through my day. I was in the world, in that moment and then the next moment and so forth. I smiled and greeted people. They smiled and greeted back. I observed myself as another. The day is almost over. I’m sitting here tapping out my last few words. Being in the moment, from moment to moment works. The chattering in my head ceased. I’m not choked by emotions. I’m feeling mellow and content. Sheba is, too, laying beside me. We are breathing as one. In 1, 2, 3. Out 1, 2,3. In 1, 2, 3, 4. Out 1, 2, 3, 4. It’s a very relaxing rhythm.




AugustMoon Day 7 photo prompt
AugustMoon Day 7 photo prompt

I pull back the curtains and I see that it had rained.  The wet pavement glisten under the street lights.  Water cascades in front of the headlights as cars sped down the street.

I watch the world outside from the darkness of my living room window.  It is a peaceful interlude.  The harshness and sharpness of the day are gone, replaced by the soft tranquility of the night.  In this moment, I can feel the world breathing as one.

I can see only as far as the night allows me.  No use in trying to pierce beyond the darkness even if I can see the man in the moon.  It would be just as silly as trying to see into the future.  And yet, we try to do that all the time, don’t we?  Well, no more of that for me!  I will try no more to go beyond the light nor worry into the future.  That is, until the next time when I have forgotten my words.


TWILIGHT – AugustMoon Day 6

AugustMoon Day 6 photo prompt
AugustMoon Day 6 photo prompt

There is something about twilight that makes me feel comfy and at ease. The sun has set. The day is done.  Time to put away toil and fret.  Time to put up my feet, watch the evening sky and feel the gentle breeze on my face.

I lean back against the chair. Silence is around me. I take a sip of wine.  I taste its rich redness in my mouth, then the smoothness going down my throat. I sigh softly in satisfaction. There is nothing but this sweetness on my tongue and the sight before my eyes. No need to think, analyze, worry or puzzle over the day or life. This moment is for being in the senses. It will be gone and tomorrow will come soon enough. For now I am here.