Tag Archives: life

LESSONS LEARNED

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My two pairs of pants are shortened and hemmed. Hallelujah! Miracles do happen. It was not so difficult after all. I need not have waited 20 years to do it. Lesson learned. Nothing happens when I am frozen with overwhelmed and indecision. They hung in the closet, gathering dust. So any action, even if it is not the best or perfect, is better than none. Now that I’ve tried them on, I think they’re a tad too short. They’re tighter than when I tried them on last week. Ah, the waxing and waning of the waist line! They might have to go into the donation bag after all. But I will see. I can still let the hem down a bit on each. Maybe I can suck in my tummy.  More work but that’s what I get for not trying them on after pinning. Another lesson learned. So many damn lessons!

That was a few days ago. I ran out of steam and words after that short conversation. That’s how it is. Now I’m back to continue. That is the secret – to keep coming back. Life is not smooth sailing. It’s full of starts, delays, holdups, detours, rerouting, restarting, etc. My garden is the same this year. We had hardly any rain till these last weeks in June. Even the weeds were not growing. There was the cool temperatures. Everything was slow. Then there were the birds and bugs that ate what did come up. I lost half a bed of broccoli and 2 rows of beans never showed. Peas and carrots are seeded in the empty spaces. But my bed of greens is excellent. We had plenty of spinach and lettuce. The spinach is done and new seeds put in for a second crop. The onions are standing straight and tall. The kale is coming up.

So that’s how things are. Some things thrive. Some don’t. There’s evil in the world but there’s also alot of good. Just when I’m really down and despondent about our humanity, I learn of people with huge loving hearts and great courage. Trevor Green’s story moved me to tears. Then there’s Melissa Fung’s speaking On What We Owe. That made me put away my small troubles, for a little while at least, and think about the larger world. And I think again about what can I do to help.

 

SUNDAY SUNDAY

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It’s Sunday but I’m hearing the Mamas and the Papas tune Monday Monday in my head. I’m singing Sunday Sunday. It’s a new day and a new week. I’m trying to put a little oomph into my tank. I was so sleepy yesterday with the rain that it was hard to stay awake. Taking Sheba out for her walk and baking rhubarb muffins for our community garden barbecue was torturous. I kept with the program and succeeded. It was no small feat – for me.

I’m feeling like molasses in winter this morning. Not wanting to fall victim to my physiology, I’m showing up here to tap, record and hold myself accountable. I’m doing things that needs doing as they show themselves to me. So, Sheba’s teeth are brushed, something she would not allow not so long ago. We’re both mellowing. I’m more patient, allowing her time to get acquainted with the finger brush. Peanut buttered tooth paste helps a lot. It’s shedding season. Clumps of fur are hanging loose on her butt. Clearly she needs a good brush out. That being done, the garbage bag (and my clothes) is now half full of her hair.

It is not a bad start to my morning. My eyes are heavy with sleepiness. I might have to get up and make myself a cup of tea. I hope to get 2 pairs of pants shortened and hemmed today. I’ve taken them out of the closet for over a week for that purpose. I bought them over 20 years ago and never worn. They still fit except for the length, of course. Well, it’s better late than never. Should I give myself a star when they’re done? Maybe it’s not a bad idea to start a chart for things accomplished.

So now it is evening. Sheba and I have just come in from our walk. A beautiful walk it is, too. The sun is still out. The air warm. All the lawns are so green after two days of rain. I haven’t quite got everything done that I’ve set out for the day. But the 2 pairs of pants are shortened and almost hemmed. You have to be flexible about these things. And I am, as flexible as a wet noodle. If a thing can keep for the morrow, I don’t sweat it.

We had a good turnout for the Community Garden barbecue. There was a few raindrops but it quickly passed. Then it was sunshine all the way. It was nice to match up the faces to the numbered garden plots and get acquainted with each other. It was good food, good company and scenery. Sunday Sunday was certainly good to me.

 

AND THE RAINS CAME

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Saturday rainy morning coming down. I’m counting our good fortunes. I can’t imagine anyone complaining about more rain. Our corner of this earth is very dry. I am trying to move forward in my day. It is easier said than done. So many things are easier said than done. I have been reading Pema Chodron’s Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change. It is beautifully written and full of wisdom. I’m soaking up tiny drops of it every morning.

What I value most of all is that I am softening up inside, slowly letting go of my rigidity, of things that no longer work. It is not an easy process. This morning I am feeling my heart closing up again. I am who I am. And you can’t make me change, it declares. Alrighto! I will not fight it. Nothing good comes out of ill fought struggles. The heart feel what it feels. I will observe and honour it. The time will come when it can willingly soften and open its door. The time will come when I can receive and accept whatever that comes without judgement and resentment. I can and I will!

I am happy that I have shown up here before my keyboard. I am sitting here amid the clutter of my desk. I’m not waiting for the perfect moment. I’m not waiting till everything is in perfect order. I am not waiting till I feel ‘fine’ and in ‘working condition’. I am showing up, sitting down and letting my fingers do the walking and talking. Somehow, they find the words and sentences. I sit and watch them march across the screen. I wonder where they come from. I wonder where they will go and when they will return.

Now that I have some words and thoughts out, I can settle into the day. I will not be distracted and lost in my head and feelings. Lunch is the next thing on my agenda. I bought some hemp hearts and chia seeds yesterday. I am eager to try them out in salads. I have a bag of spinach harvested from our raised beds begging to be eaten.

It is after lunch. The rain is pouring down. I hope that it’s not too much of a good thing all at once. All our rain barrels are full. We can stand to save some rain for later in the season. It is what it is. We can not hold back nature but we can learn to live in harmony with nature to ensure the health of our planet. What we do to nature, we do to ourselves. So how much do we care – about our earth and ourselves?

MUTTERINGS ON A RAINY DAY

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Beginnings are damned hard! Look at how long we had to wait for the rain. There were days, weeks, months of possibilities of rain. It finally came today, our first real rain on this 20th day of June. We rushed onto the deck to witness and rejoice.

I feel somewhat akin to the dammed up sky, full of possibilites but unable to deliver. It’s a most uncomfortable and perplexing feeling. I’ve had days, weeks and maybe months of this. I hope I don’t have to wait till winter before I can unleash my whatever it is. It will be such a fury by then. I wonder if I’m a manic depressive. Hmm. Or it is just my ADHD symptons of trouble organizing and starting a task having a field day.

I’m trying to relax, gather and organize my thoughts so as not to waste time and energy going every which way. That is one of my handicaps. In between gaps here, I’ve vacuumed a couple of rooms and washed some Chinese broccoli for our lunch. My attention span is short and jerky. Doing some 4-7-8 breathing helps to relax and slow me down to concentrate better. The exercise has many other benefits of sleeping better, relieving anxiety and improving cardiovascular health. It takes only minutes in a day.

I have to make more of an effort in showing up here. I’ve said that a few times already, haven’t I? I know what to do but sometimes I can’t do it. I need a visual, physical written out agenda. That’s what this blog is for me, a roadmap, my GPS for my daily life. I need to get up, dress up, show up and tap here regularly for my mental and physical health. When I tap out my thoughts, wonderings, wishings, doings, it makes grooves and    pathways in my brain to guide me. They anchor and comfort me. I can see by the words, sentences and photos that I have not been idle and useless. I have been busy living my life as best as I can.

I’ve been feeling stuck, immobile, yucky and not getting anywhere. Sometimes feelings can be false and misleading. Somehow amidst all these feelings, I have put in a flower bed, a garden, raised vegetable beds, and a few flower pots here and there. The moral of the story is not to believe all your feelings. They can be your saboteurs.

STRUTTING IT IN MY STYLE

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Saturday, my favourite day of the week. The sky and air are heavy, pressing their weight on me. It is difficult to feel at ease with the day. I am proceeding as best as I can. The time is appropriate to be reading Pema Chodron’s The Places That Scare You, A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times. There are many places and things that scare me but I am learning to sit and stay with them. I am learning to be a warrior-bodhisattva though I am at times quivering in my seat.

I should really come here regularly, more often than I have of late. I should but haven’t. I am really doing the best I can most days. I should give up the shoulds and just accept myself as I am. The complete acceptance of ourselves as we are is called maitri. The 4 qualities of maitri that are cultivated when we meditate are: steadfastness, clear seeing, experiencing our emotional distress and attention to the present moment.

It’s Sunday morning. It has drizzled overnight. The sky is overcast but the sun is trying to show up. I am, too. I am glad to have an art challenge to do. When the going gets tough, it is helpful to have a ‘chore’ to do. I’m doing Daisy Yellow’s annual ICAD (index card a day). It gives me a start to the day when I’m in stuck mode. I’ve been feeling stuck for too long now. At the end of the day I’ve created one thing even if it is the only thing.

Today is such a day. I haven’t even gotten out of my pjs. I should have used the momentum from the paint session to propel myself forward onto another activity. I didn’t. But I did learned that once I put a splash of paint on the card, it painted itself. The paint and brush had a life of their own. They were guiding and soothing me. I was infused with this exquisite feeling inside. My judgement and criticisms of my work and style evaporated. I was happy just pushing the paint around the card. I felt delicious just being me, painting the way I do. Perhaps I’m not stuck but just staying with being myself.

WEEKEND MUTTERINGS

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I’ve never ever found an optimum time for doing anything or an easy time for starting something. Truth be told, I’m a daydreamer, a doodler, lounger, wistful thinker. In short I’m a procrastinator, trying to hold life at bay. What is this fear of starting and living?, I ask myself. I have no clue, no inkling of an idea but just this physical discomfort of not wanting to commit. Laugh if you will but we all know that he who laughs first, laughs last. I am sure you have that procrastinator in you, too. Only you haven’t recognized yourself in the mirror.

I see myself as molasses in winter mode. It is cool this morning. I see my little cucumber plants shivering in the raised bed in the front yard. First the heat. Now the chill. I hope they make it. I’ve never had much luck with them except for one year. Now that’s something to aim for. Something to get my juices flowing and off my butt. It takes patience and persistence to succeed at anything. My cyclamen is such a testament. I gave it the attention it needed. I don’t have a steady supply of that either. It comes in sporatic spurts. I’m not good when the going gets tough. Sometimes I abandon ship. Now that’s another thing to work on.

It’s another morning. I’ve clearly abandoned ship yesterday before finishing this conversation. I’m going through a spell. I’m lacking motivation. Nothing turns me on but I’m working on it. I feel as if I can’t even get myself out of a wet paper bag. Sometimes I just have to put in the effort as if I do love it, whether I feel it or not.  That’s life. What is it that gets you up and going? What are your secrets for joie de vivre? What keeps you on the job till it’s finished?

I’m sipping on my cuppa, my favourite diversion for not doing. I’m glued to my chair but at least I am flexing my fingers, tapping on the keyboard. I’m trying to stay awake, thinking of how to overcome my inertia, how not to feel overwhelmed about our climate crisis. What else can I do not to contribute to the carbon footprint? How can I get outside of myself to help the world I live in. These are some of my thoughts on this sunny cool June morning. Perhaps I can bake some rhubarb crisp to warm up. I’ve been making rhubarb sour cream muffins the last 2 days but I’ve run out of sour cream.

 

 

IN THE CUL-DE-SAC

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I should listen to my own advice about starting. It’s not that I don’t want to. Sometimes I have to go through the period of being stalled, being hung in limbo, midair, not wanting to commit. Call it what you will. Maybe it’s my ritual of some sort. It’s good to have rest periods. I do feel an obligation not to waste time, to fill every moment of useful doings.

I’ve been caught in the limbo of not doing for days now. Every evening I catch myself saying, I will start in the morning. In the morning I find it is so much easier to sink into tomorrow is another day. It’s not that I’ve been a couch potato. On the contrary I’ve been on the ‘busy routine’ of living every day, doing the famous ‘busy stuff’ that everyone does.

It’s not that I have so many important things to do or to contribute. It’s that I’ve been  stuck in the cul-de-sac of lassitude, of not caring, of not having meaning, of not being important, of not being present. Perhaps it is called feeling sorry for myself or being in a depressive mood. My favourite excuse is that summer is not my favourite season. It brings out not so good memories of growing up in small town Saskatchewan. Everyone in town goes away to the lake or wherever on holidays, except the Chinese people who has the cafe. Oh, I remember those hot summer days of watching flies drone against the window screen and looking out at the empty dusty streets.

It’s strange how memories live in the very marrow of me. They are hidden deep inside and seep out on hot summer days. No need to worry about me. It’s just the way I talk/write. It’s healthy to be curious and investigate my feelings. It’s good to lay them down on the page in black and white. These ebb and flow of feelings are part of being alive. Feelings come and go like the tide. It’s like breathing in and out. Some are good and some not so. I’m still learning to accept them all, to sit with them as I must.

I’ve been reading Pema Chodron’s The Places That Scare You. I’m learning about Bodhichitta, being a warrior and staying in those scary places. It’s helping me to finally relax into life and not take things so seriously. Life is serious but things are not. I’m seeing the light now. Times when I don’t will come again. I have the words now. They could go away tomorrow. It’s all a cyle, the yin and the yan. That’s what I know for sure.

 

JUST START

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It’s friggin’ hard!

Beginnings are hard. How many times have I said that already? A zillion and yet I have found no easy solution. I just have to make a mark somewhere; say something, anything; make a decision one way or another; etc. etc. So often, too often, I’m frozen with indecision, speechless with no words, immobilized with inaction. Sometimes this is worse than doing and saying the wrong things. This is what I’m trying to push through today.

It is very disconcerting. I’m squirming with the discomfort but I’m learning to sit with it, however long it will take. I’m too addicted to the idea of speed, that it shouldn’t take time and effort to do anything. I’ve bought into the idea I can tap, search, enter, and presto! The thing is done. I’ve been short circuiting my brain and short changing myself the experience of doing, following through and completing. No wonder I’m absent minded and forgetful. I have no grooves to store anything. I flit from thing to thing, one idea to another in nana seconds. I do not allow feelings to sink in.

It’s been a few days since I wrote the above. I’m having a writer’s block. It could be I’m just lazy. I’m having a tough go finding meaningful ideas and words. In this moment I am hot and overcome with malaise. But I can still tap with my fingers. How strange that I could feel cold upon waking at 6 this morning. I don’t know what the temperature was then. By 10 am it was already 21 degrees Celsius. Now it is 28 Celsius. I’m feeling all the distress of daily fluctuating temperatures.

So what can I do to alleviate my distress? Coming back to this space helps. The rhythm of tapping on the keyboard is soothing. I’m flexing my small muscles. Asking the question starts me thinking about solutions. It lessens the feeling of being trapped and helpless. I’m quieting my mind and body, taking some deep slow breaths. Recently I came upon Dr. Weil’s 4-7-8 breathing technique where you breathe in to the count of 4, hold for count of 7 and breathe out to the count of 8 for 4 breath cycles. I’ve been doing this twice a day for a few days. I hope to keep it up for a month at least. It takes very little time and the benefits are huge.

 

WHAT HAVE I DONE

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What can I do? What have I done?  I use these 2 questions when I am stuck and I’m stuck often. So I’ve just finished the dishes from lunch. I’m sitting here with my cuppa green tea. Thought I would try something new besides my usual Orange Pekoe, especially when I have a cupboard full of all sorts. Some of them are from Sri Lanka. I see that Orange Pekoe is not a bad choice. It has many health benefits. But I am going to shake up my taste buds and experiment with different teas as well as food. Green tea is even better than black tea because it is not as processed.

I’ve been reading the ebook, Ketotarian by Will Cole from the library. I found it very informative and useful so I ordered my own copy from Amazon. It has many recipes that I want to try out. I was going through my closet the other day and was dismayed to find that my waist line has increased many inches this past year. My belly fat is out of control and is hanging over the waist band. It is not helping my blue mood. It is another thing I can do to help myself. I do not need to let everything hang out. I hope the book will help me to keep some things in.

Life continues to be hard. It is the next morning. I have problems finishing things as well. I am trying my best. What I can do is make a list of what I have done.

  • I’ve gotten up, dressed up and shown up here today.
  • I do my qigong routine most mornings. I have done it today.
  • I’ve folded and put away yesterday’s laundry.
  • Sorted out my pants in the closet. Experienced items that did not give me joy. Those have been taken to Value Village.
  • Struggled with sorting, cleaning and putting away seeds,pots and trays for starting the bedding plants.
  • Struggled to be in the present moment every day.
  • Taken Sheba to the dog park more often. It’s good for her and myself as well to mingle with other dogs and people.
  • Do blocks of art. Mostly it’s been embroidery on the machine lately.

Questions and lists can prod me from being stuck. I have to make physical evidence of them. Having them in my head does no good. They would be fuel for rumination. I do that too much already. I have to get off my fat ass and work it! But what would be good to chew on is the 4 mantras that I’ve learned from Thick Nhat Hanh this morning.

  1. Darling, I’m here for you.
  2. Darling, I know you are there.
  3. Darling, I know you suffer. I’m here for you.
  4. Darling, I suffer. Please help me.

CONVERSATIONS, DEAD HORSES AND SLEEPING ELEPHANTS

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It really is easier to keep the conversation going than to let it drop. It is like that with many things including relationships. Once dropped, it is difficult to pick up the thread of where you’ve left off. There are moments when I wondered if the dropped things are better left where they are. Is there any point in stirring the dead ashes of the conversations or anything else?  Dead is dead. There are no hidden golden nuggets. What was is.

 

But I am a bit of a fool and a tenacious one at that, especially when I was younger. I tend to flog a dead horse alot. I keep hoping against hope that I can stir it to life and we can ride off into the sunset together. I guess you can call me a self-abuser. It’s worse than somebody else beating on me. But I haven’t seen it till now. So I guess it is good to have these conversations. It leads to self knowledge. There are hidden jewels in the debris after all. I can stop beating on the dead horse now.

There’s only the elephant in the room to deal with. But maybe not just now though. It’s best to let sleeping elephants lie. I know there is room. Let’s enjoy the peace. Let us not stir up trouble when there is none. Maybe there is no elephant to trip over. He only exist in my head, stitched in brilliantly coloured threads. He’s there to cheer me out of my glooms, to lend me his trunk to lean on. He can take my weight, ease my burden, lend me his ears. He is strong, silent and infinitely patient. He is my perfect imaginary friend. Do you have one?