Marching Along

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March is marching along. I wish I could say the same for myself. I’m moving judiciously through the morning so I will have enough energy to navigate the whole day. I’m making use of my gadgets to do the hard work. The iRobot Roomba is doing the vacuum. I will load up the dishwasher and let it do its job. I have soup from yesterday. Soup actually takes quite a bit of work to make even with an Instant Pot. There’s the gathering up of ingredients, washing and chopping vegetables, etc. You don’t feel the energy drain when you are feeling well. When you are not, even opening up a can is tiring.

Even thinking seems to burn up lots of energy. It’s hard to sit and be blank for any length of time. That was yesterday. I gave up on willing myself to feel better and laid down for a short nap. It was not an easy task. It took some time of restless discomfort before I could sink into the warmth of the comforter. The 20 minute of rest was surprisingly restorative. I tried it again today with similar results. I’m starting to enjoy these periods of snuggling in bed. They are very healing. It’s good to let go of everything for a short while. I don’t need to march anywhere. Rest is my new motto.

Que Sera Sera

Another sunny cold day in my desert. I am slow at the gate, not getting anywhere fast today. I have to be content with stuttering on the keyboard and sipping my cup of instant coffee. Life is hard. People are difficult to understand. I shall not hurt my brain trying to figure them out. Que sera sera. Whatever will be will be. I will have to let whatever will be, will be. I am not God. I am in search of Him.

He is elusive today. I will have to muddle along among the cacti and sand dunes by myself as well as I can. It is good not to be bothered by the noises and confusion of the outside world. I have to learn to let go of things I cannot change. Not everything and everybody can be saved. I can’t hold on with all my might to everything and everyone. I can’t stop the train thundering down the track. It surely will kill me if I try. It is time to let it go on without me.

Why I Bother

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January 22, 2026. A sunny bitterly cold morning. Just what I like. I’m wearing a black silk/nylon/mohair sweater with sequins from years ago. I’m sipping my second cup of tea and hoping to tap out another post for the Ultimate Blog Challenge. Just a little over a week left in January. I’m not as enthused this round with my words. I’m not showing up every day. Sometimes I wonder why I bother.

Why I bother is because it is the best/better mode of releasing stress for me. I can lash out with my words without causing self harm and hurt to others. It is only true when I confine my words to this space. I can poke a bear awake with my keyboard just as well as with my sharp tongue. I felt the result of that yesterday. I ran into a very old colleague whom I haven’t seen for a long time. I greeted her. She let me know in no uncertain words and facial expression that I am not loved.”There’s no need to say hello when you had been so rude to me on Facebook.” She retorted.

I was and was not surprised. That had been over a year ago in October of 2024. It was soon after my mother’s funeral. I was somewhat crazy and she irritated me greatly with her comments on our lunch group page. I was instrumental in adding and including her to the group after she expressed being left out. She did not once showed up but always responded with some irritating comment. After many months, I removed her. What followed was very strange and ugly. I regretted all my actions. How silly to lose my much needed energy this way.

So it is another cold morning. January 23rd. -37℃. No sun yet. The cold is good enough reason to take a break from the gym. I have soup souping in the Instant Pot. I am hoping to tap a good ending to this post. The flip flopping of temperatures is hard on the body. I am adjusting and readjusting to that and life as well. I tend to have the archetype of a rescuer. What I haven’t learned is that not everyone wants to be rescued. I haven’t realized that I am not that powerful. I am not God though I have been told. Hence, energy drains out of me.

Today, I am doing self care. I am not that powerful. I am not God. I don’t have to save everyone or anyone. It is good to let go and let it be. Peace.

Don’t Sweat the stuff

It’s another sunny but cool Saturday morning. But I see that it’s warmed up to 8℃ from the 0 of 7 am. Already it is 23℃ in the greenhouse. It’s an hour before noon so I should not be surprised. I’ve pushed the mop around the most needed places. It helps to start moving right after breakfast and dishes. Otherwise I could just sag all day.

I am happy and proud to say that I’ve done the most hard thing for today. I was tempted to sit and rest on my laurels after doing the floors. The turkey in the fridge keep popping up in my mind. I was thinking, ‘how the hell was I going to get it cooked’? I was overwhelmed just thinking about it. I do recall that I’ve done it a few times before. Theoretically, I can do it. I do have Chef John’s Roast Turkey recipe. I was overthinking. I need to stop the thoughts and start doing.

The doing is done. The turkey is cleaned and spiced up sitting on top of chopped onions, carrots and celery in the roaster. It’s all ready for the oven when it is time. I’m sitting pretty here with my tea and tapping out my words for the Ultimate Blog Challenge. It’s another lesson in not sweating the stuff, big or little. But it’s easier said than done. I have to keep reminding and watching myself – on where and how my energy is spent. Am I overthinking, over reacting, repeating the same mistakes over and over? Am I doing the same things, hoping for different results?

I hate to admit it, but often the answer is yes. I am a fixer, a mender of fences even though from experience some fences cannot be mended. Though that has been hammered into me quite a few times by my neighbours, I still find it difficult to believe that I can’t explain, reason, appeal – fix it somehow. It was hard for me to accept that they don’t like me even though we don’t have a personal relationship. We just live next to each other. It’s a good lesson in not taking anything personally or other people’s stuff. It’s also a reminder to look at myself and my own behavior. Am I also guilty of the same?

It’s Easter weekend, not a time to dwell on grievances, past or present. It’s a good thing I can’t see into future ones. I choose to let go of everything and be open to all possibilities. It is a good time to re-read Richard Carlson’s Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff, and It’s All Small Stuff and Miquel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements. Happy Easter!

Unbecoming the Worse in Me

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It’s September the 4th. A cloudy grey morning but at least the smoke is gone. The air quality is a 2 from yesterday’s 11. I’m juicing the last of my brother’s apples. I could have gotten more but less and enough are what I am working on now. My lizard brain gets so easily addicted on a good thing. It’s difficult to put up a limit and stop. It was will power as I said no to more apples, all the while gazing at the beautiful, bigger apples still on the tree. I had to keep the thoughts of that I have only x number of energy and that I can only drink so much apple juice. That goes for making and eating apple jelly.

I’m still struggling with unbecoming the worse parts of me, the parts that no longer works. It’s hard to let go because they’ve been with me forever and a day. They’re almost like friends but I wouldn’t call them that. They’re more like jealous sisters. What/where/who would I be without them? That’s the fear of letting go of the known. They’re the anchors that weigh me down.

I am getting better at letting go of the fear, even if it is ever so slow. It’s one step at a time. Sometimes the steps are in the wrong direction. I regress instead of progress. And I have to start anew. That’s where I am right now, switching directions, going forward again. Steps are hard. Finding the words are hard. Finding heart is hard. Tomorrow is a new day and another start.

Life is Difficult

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M. Scott Peck wasn’t kidding with his first line in The Road Less Travelled. Life is difficult. I have found that it’s never perfect and seldom smooth. Some days I’m falling asleep in early evening watching my favourite crime show. Other nights, like last night, I could not sleep past 2 am. Not too many days ago, we were sweltering in +30℃, sleeping with all the windows wide opened. Now all the windows are closed and I’m snuggling in my old pink fuzzy housecoat.

Talking about M. Scott Peck, he wasn’t so perfect either. Checking him out, I found that his first wife was Lily Ho Chinese. From an article in the GuardianHe spent much of his life immersed in cheap gin, chain-smoking cigarettes and inhaling cannabis, and being persistently unfaithful to his wife, who eventually divorced him. He also went through estrangement with two of his three children.” He sounds like a scoundrel. I wonder why he and his book were so successful. I have to read it again. It’s on my bookshelf.

I do wonder if I have been reading the wrong books, worshipping the wrong heroes and tripping down the wrong paths. How is one to know though? Having arrived here at this point in my life, I think it wiser to choose the easier and well trodden path first. It would be easier going and retreating. It would save time and energy to begin anew. It is hind sight and too late for me. It’s what I would advise if I was asked but who listens to advice. Not me.

So here I am, not exactly stuck and not doing terribly. I am just tapping and bitching. It helps me in the process of letting go. It’s never easy for me. I hang on and hang on. Thoughts and feelings swirling around like a snow globe. It is how I am. I can learn to a little better but it is my nature. It does me less harm if I tap it out rather than forcing myself into being perfect and never stray off the path.

HANGING ON – LETTING GO

Now that I’m back in the saddle, I’m hanging on. 11 more days left in the Ultimate Blog Challenge. Do I have it in me to finish? My cold is still hanging on. Frustration doesn’t help it go away. I’m learning that I have to let go to loosen its grip on me. It isn’t though. I feel like standing on my head. Not being able to, I don a mask and took a short walk around the garden. The mask keeps the cool air out and my throat not so dry. The short walk provided a short reprieve for my discomforts.

I haven’t gotten very far with editing this website. Now is not the time to do it. It will only add to my frustrations and make my hair stand on end. It’s hard to resist though. We’re all addicted to pushing buttons. And before you know it, a whole bunch of time have past with no good results. I’ve only pushed a few buttons. I’ve stopped.

I am feeling a bit better. Having a chrysanthemum tea and a snack. They hit the right spot. The way to a woman’s heart is also through the stomach. I will wind this post up, pick up my knitting and watch another episode of Vera. Murder mysteries is also a balm for me.

UBC Day 16 & 17 – The world is Flat

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These days, I am hard pressed to feel the joie de vivre. The world/life feels rather flat. However, the jukebox in my head is still playing happy tunes. It helps that it’s sunny even though it is a cool morning. I’m having a second cup of tea and tapping a few words. They no longer come easily or bring the pleasure they once did. I’m having to work at it. They do bring some satisfaction as I see them slowly marching across the screen.

Meanwhile, in between ideas, words and paragraphs, bread is in the making. I’m in the process of the first rising. When I look at it, making bread is much like building a post. It can be complicated and daunting till you get familiar and make a regular habit of it. Then everything becomes second nature, intuitive and the thing builds itself. It becomes a comforting process, ironing out the wrinkles and stress of everyday life.

Now, the water, yeast and flour have become dough. It is poofing in the oven for an hour or until I’m ready to punch it down and shape them into the loaf pans. There is no hurry. Meanwhile, I’m having another cuppa and process some thoughts and words that came whilst kneading dough. They are elusive and fleeting. If I don’t tap them down, they will be lost. They are rather important insights which will help me have an easier and happier life.

It’s taken me this long, a lifetime, to fully understand the concept of not taking anything personal and letting go. It finally dawned on me this summer that when I’m hanging on to perceived hurts and wrong doings by others, I’m only hurting myself. Those ‘others’ don’t give a shit. They’ve moved on and having a merry old time with their lives. Meanwhile, I’m wasting time and energy embroiled in my own toxic emotions, solving nothing and harming myself. But until I had this moment of clarity, I could not let go.

The loaves are baking in the oven. I’m almost finished here. Wrapping up, I have to say I’m grateful for this space. It’s worth the struggle to put words onto the page. It keeps me somewhat sane and healthy. Now I see that the world is not flat. So I will struggle on.

JUNE – metamorphosis 3

My finest hours are the early first ones in the morning. After I have my morning tea, I like to wander out into the yard, stretch my mind and body. I can call it my working garden meditation. This morning I wanted to check our haskaps. Sometimes the birds find their way in under the netting. So far they haven’t gotten tangled in it but I could hear them flapping, trying to get out. No birds this morning. I got a 1 gram honey container full of purple fruit. I have another container full from the other day. I shall clean and freeze them till I figure out what to do with them. Sometimes I wait too long to do things and they end up spoiling and wasted. So learning to move along timely is part of my June metamorphosis journey.

Harvesting, cleaning and storing our produce are important. Equally important is using them. I’ve been harvesting our rhubarb, washing, chopping and freezing them in their prime. I’ve done so in the past, but they sat in the freezer and ended up in the compost after a couple of years. This winter, someone will be making rhubarb wine. I might have to nag a little. I’m waiting till I get enough strawberries from our patch to make a rhubarb strawberry cobbler. I’m learning to plan a little instead of always flying by the seat of my pants.

I’m enjoying my second cup of tea. I hope I don’t fall back into my old habits of too much again. Me thinks I worry too much sometimes. It’s good to let go, pamper and treat oneself once in awhile. The other evening, I took the birthday boy out for supper. It is not an easy thing for me to celebrate anything or go to an unaccustomed restaurant. I sucked it up bit back my uncomfortable feelings and proceeded full speed ahead. It’s a curious thing but I used to get intimidated by hairdressers and waiters/waitresses in fancy places. They seemed sophisticated and me so country bumpkinish. But I decided I had enough of that and let it all go. Afterall I’ve been breathing and walking this earth a few years now. I’m feeling pretty sophisticated myself. I let go and had a blast. Even though it was not my birthday, I celebrated it as my own birth out of the cocoon.

You just know that it’s going to be a high priced ticket when a hostess escorts you to a table, followed by a waitress, each with a long welcoming speeches. I understood the game. It was quite enjoyable even before we had any wine. We had 4 free tasters so that we could choose the one we love. Somehow instead of having just a glass each, I got talked into ordering a bottle. I was gamed. I think that was already on my mind as we first stepped into the restaurant. You know when there are so many layers of servers, a big tip is expected. It reminded me of the how many people does it take to turn on the light bulb joke. The waitress took our orders but she did not bring the tasters nor the food. She bought the bottle of wine and dessert and a different person bought the tasters and food. It was all very good fun. We wined and dined. I broke out of my serious mold, if only for one evening. I figured if we’re incapable of driving home, we could rent a room upstairs. It was in a hotel. But we were good to go. Needless to say, I gave a good tip.

BITTER MELON, SOUR GRAPES

I am having some difficulty letting go of my neighbour encounter. I still have that bitter and sour taste of the worst kind. I’m bitter because of my own stupidity of engaging with a mentally sick person and letting her get under my skin. It’s hard because she is not the kind mentally ill that gets lock up but the kind that gets special considerations. Life is not fair, never is and never will be. I better just suck it up and be more conscious and wary. I am of the vulnerable sort that gets taken in by sad stories and tears. They know I am a sucker bearing gifts of sympathy, help and sometimes money. I once gifted a friend under a guise of a loan of a couple of thousand dollars. She had asked me to cosign a huge loan for her. I couldn’t do it. I felt guilty refusing so the loan/gift. She rewarded me by asking some time later, How much was it that I had given her? She could not remember. The things that sour a relationship.

They say to be truly generous you give without expectations and no strings attached. Obviously I haven’t reached the truly level. I would like some gratitude and remembrance. I hate being the lone caretaker of a relationship. But then, I brought it on myself. I have no one else to blame. Another time, another friend, and another incident. This friend wanted to pay me back for my kindness to her. She often hung out at my place because all she had was just one room while she was getting her computer science degree. She wanted to pay my train fare to visit her in Toronto where she got a new job. I declined the free rain fare but took up the visit. The first thing she said to me when I stepped off the train was: You’re going to cost me a fortune just in toilet paper to keep you.

Not a very auspicious beginning. It had no good beginning. I ended up flying home in not too many days. And yet I still try to maintain the friendship for a few more years before I packed it in. I truly have a hanging on problem. I brought it all upon myself. Now that I have spilled all the bitterness and sourness onto the page, I hope I can start a new page. I am a good person. I need to value myself, time and energy better. I do feel so much better having unload some of the shit. And though I felt the least inclined to exercising today, I went. The mobility class at the YWCA was excellent. Working on hip movements chased all those ugly feelings emanating from that wretched neighbour woman. It helps to surround oneself with positive and kind people. I was doing something good for my body and soul. The negative stuff are now just water under the bridge.