We make beginnings harder than they need to be. I spent years putting it off, studying and gathering information on this and that when I already knew everything. Yet it was never enough. I’m still tempted by all these courses and classes on how to. Now that I recognize that I’ve been procrastinating, avoiding and averting the commitment of myself, I am beginning.
I’m scrolling past and deleting all those enticing calls to better myself. School is over. It’s time to put away the books and begin. There’s nothing to fear. There are no absolute failures. There are no resounding successes. Somethings are better than others. Somethings are worse. Life just is. Begin to do something, anything. And if life gives you lemons, add volka.
There’s a lot of truth in sayings. Everything does pass. If we can hang on, ride it out, things have a way of working out on its own. So that is what I did. I’ve passed those dangerous times of dark times and dark moods. I won’t say it’s smooth sailing from now on. But I am at ease and have regained some energy. I look forward to the mornings though I know I will wake in the dark. I can handle it. It is ok because in my mind’s eye, I can see and feel those sunny mornings. And if I can’t I can snuggle and luxuriate in the warmth of the bed.
I am enjoying the autumn, of slowly putting the garden and yard spaces to rest. I’m going with the tide, slowing down and resting my body and mind. There is no need to struggle. I have time to cook and simmer and fill the house with wonderful aromas. Somehow they have the power of lighting up my inner world. And while I’m prepping the garden for sleep, I am also preparing for the spring. I’m gathering seeds, drying and storing them. Come February, the waking process starts.
There is many things to do and enjoy. There’s time to do and enjoy. But I know dark times and dark moods can come again. Today I’m reminded of the prayer of St. Teresa of Avila. It is very comforting when comfort is needed.
Let nothing disturb you, Let nothing frighten you, All things are passing away: God never changes. Patience obtains all things Whoever has God lacks nothing; God alone suffices.
A hot sunny day yesterday followed by a cool cloudy one today. One has to make hay while the sun shines. We brought our potatoes home from the allotment garden yesterday. It was easy to work in the heat and sun. Today I don’t have the same energy. However, I could not dawdle for I had an early appointment to get my car serviced. It was a good thing and unpleasant at the same time. No time to languish in the morning with my cup of tea. I dreaded the thought the night before. But the chore is done. A big sigh of relief. I’m ready for winter.
Winter is not quite here yet though. The garden and harvest is still not over. There’s still alot of tomatoes clinging dearly on the vine. And beans, too. I will have to harvest the kohlrabi soon to make room for fall garlic. I’m resigned to be processing tomatoes till Christmas. Today I have 7 trays of tomatoes dehydrating and made a pint and a half of tomato sauce. I’m not complaining. It’s a good problem to have. You just never know what kind of growing season we will have next year. And the house smells of goodness all day long. It is a very comforting and grounding activity, cooking food.
It keeps me busy. No time to fret and wool gather but I make time for a bit of reading. I’m splitting myself. I have 6 books on the go. I have the attention span of a gnat, reading a bit here and there. It’s a good thing the books are on my ipad app. I can renew them a few times and they return themselves. Four Thousand Weeks is my most recent read. It is about time management. If we live to be 80 years old, we have about 4,000 weeks, not a heck of a long time. This makes me ask the same question that Mary Oliver asks in her poem The Summer Day:
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?
Life is full of trickery. A moment is all it takes. All could be lost. The hard work, sweat and tears all for naught. But it needn’t be if I can stop the all or nothing thinking. I keep forgetting the shorter days with less daylight can be hazardous for me. I have to be more careful, keep an open mind and practice more compassion for myself. September is a month of falling off the wagon, burning my bridges and letting the horse out of the barn. It is the time for eating a big slab of chocolate cake and getting lost in an episode of Vera.
It seems crazy and cruel that a moment can happen so quickly. It seems strange in that nothing happened except in myself, that the nothing can trigger my feeling of failure and inadequacy. It’s too bad that the turnaround isn’t as quick. I think this is the hook that Pema Chodron talks about. It looks like there is nothing for me to do but recognize it and let be. And so I am – letting it be. There’s no place to go. There’s nothing to fix. It is.
I’m bitching again. I’m disappointed and disillusioned again. I am being naive and childish that I am so surprised by how people behave. I was harvesting my carrots at our community garden this morning when I was approached by a woman walking by. I don’t know how elderly she was but she was using a walker. What she wanted was some of my carrots. She didn’t say so directly but asked if my neighbouring plot had carrots to spare. I said I could give her a few, choosing my bigger and better looking ones for her. Still she asked if my neighbour have carrots to spare. I was exasperated and said, I’ve just given you some. She replied, It’s not enough! I really like carrots.
I was really sorry that I had given her some. Still she made me feel guilty, a tightwad, not generous in sharing more of my bounty for she could see that I have a pailful with more carrots to harvest. I hate myself for falling into these kinds of traps. I wonder if I have VICTIM written on my forehead. A friend once asked me to cosign a large loan. When I asked why she didn’t ask her brother or sister, she said they have children and responsibilities. I felt guilty for saying no. I ‘loaned’ her $2,000. But it was really a gift. Later, she could not remember the amount. Then there’s the neighbour who told me I was ‘ripe for picking’, that I had ‘asked for it’ from another neighbour. She was very right, of course. I had fallen for her tears and friendliness because she needed someone to tend to things for her. When that was over, she had no sympathy for me or need of me.
Well, I am not sorry I am what/who I am. I am happy that I am human and have the capacity to feel for others, that I can be moved by tears and needs. I am also happy that I am a little wiser and see through someone’s sense of entitlement and manipulation. I have more confidence. Though I still falls into these traps and guilty feelings, I rebound out of them quickly. Any time I or anyone give something, no matter the amount, it is an act of generosity. If you don’t like it, too bad. Don’t ask and it shan’t be given.
Here’s what I want you to know. Maybe you already do, know that I’m a bit of a grump, especially these autumn days. I feel bad, guilty as if I am the only one who is. Logically I know it is not true but still I feel like one of a kind – mean, nasty, selfish, unkind. I wonder how others could be so wonderful while I am thus. Then I would feel so bad and kick myself to kingdom come on the inside.
And here’s what I do know. It is September. The days are getting shorter. The sun rises later and sets earlier. Some mornings, I feel sleepy drinking my first cup of tea. I was nodding over the Wordle puzzle this morning. Some mornings someone says the something to me and no matter their intention, good or bad, I start to bristle and a fire starts up inside. Though I can keep things from smouldering, I can’t let it go. The mantra of letting it go annoys me to no end.
Here’s what I like you to know. I’m mostly annoyed at myself for these feelings. I’m annoyed that they got teeth into me, hanging on as if for dear life. I can shake all I want. They won’t let go. Here’s what I have to do. They have to bide their sweet time. I have to honour them and let them be. Tomorrow is another day.
Day’s end. I’ve come to my keyboard late and feel the least like writing. It’s been a good day but now I’m feeling a bit of the willies. It’s hard to describe or explain so I won’t. It’s been a strange day of beautiful sunshine, then dark brooding clouds. I thought the sun could never come out again but it did. The sun and clouds played this game all day long. Is this our new normal now?
It was good that I took my mother and father out for coffee yesterday. I was buoyed by the sun when I dropped off their grocery for them. It struck me that they might want to do an outing. They did. It was good for all of us meeting up with 3 of their friends at the mall. We had an overflow of coffee, conversation and laughter. I was happy bringing them all together on a sunny September afternoon. It brought me out of myself.
My willies/shivers have past. I’m feeling at ease, soothed by the sweet aroma of tomatoes on the dehydrator. It has been a good day of sun and clouds. I am happy I had my morning walk of 1.6 miles this morning. I made hay while the sun shone. I watered everything – the raised beds, the flowers, the shrubs. I’m readying them for bedtime as I am readying myself for the same. Tomorrow is another day.
I suppose now is not a good time to read a book about addiction, depression and things that go bump in the night. But the In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts came available on my Libby app and I couldn’t help myself. I am already hooked after a few pages. You could say that my passion is understanding our human-ness, what makes us tick and what doesn’t. In my next life, if I remember, I will choose something in psychology for a profession. In the now I am continuing my journey as a self-help junkie.
My saving grace has always been my thirst for knowledge and the belief that there is something we can do. I guess you can call that optimism. But it wasn’t till I was in my 40s before I realized that before I change my circumstances, I have to change my behavior/actions. I cannot just sit back, yearn and yearn and not do anything different. It would be like howling at the moon. That knowledge sat for quite awhile before I could put that into action. I am not a fast mover. I am the tortoise.
We know from the story of the story of the tortoise and the hare, the tortoise does get somewhere. And I have made some miles. In these early days of September, I am recognizing and understanding my symptoms of SAD. I understand and am a little kinder to myself. I try to be more active, be outdoors and in natural light more. It helps to have a plan for the day. Writing helps. Looking through my art journals gave me a shot of pleasure. I will have to bring out my paints, pens and brushes again. Then there’s my cross stitch kits and knitting. Knitting is very soothing, very much like tapping on the keyboard.
Yesterday I joined in Laurie Wagner’s live Zoom session on Wild Writing. She read a poem for us – twice. And from that we were to write long hand for 10 minutes whatever that we felt. I was surprised that I could write about practically nothing for that long. I felt quite comfortable except for the fact that my hand was getting cramped and I caved in before the final minute was ticked. I quite like this exercise of writing whatever arises within – with no censoring, with ease, without planning and plotting. It eases something(s) within, releasing angst, anger, worry and whatever that’s gnawing at me. Seeing these mischiefs, in black and white, marching across the screen restores reason and order in my brain. I hope it makes me easier to live with.
I’m experimenting with the best time to release my wildness. Now seems perfect. The sun has risen, shining its goodness on me. I’m not keen on the autumn darkness of our early mornings. I feel its icy fingers on my innards. And now I have no Sheba to warm and stand guard by me. Thoughts of my fur baby still warm me on dark mornings before I open my eyes. I hear the sounds of kibbles dropping in her bowl and her crunching. Funny how far sounds can carry in the dark and in memories. It is very comforting.
The clock is ticking. I must not tarry. Life calls and I must answer.
My daily write have become enough of a habit that I don’t feel quite right without it. At the end of the evening, I’m putting a few things away, readying for bed. But I don’t feel complete without tapping out a few words. Now that I am here, concentrating, it is not so easy.
It is September 11, a hard day to forget. 9/11 is forever etched in history. We don’t have to clarify it and we know the date. 911 is forever in my mind as the day I took my mother to St. Paul’s hospital for a CT scan to confirm her aortic aneurysm. I remember waking up to the news on CBC radio of airplanes crashing into the Twin Towers. An accident was my first thought. Then when I hear it was a terrorist attack, I thought of our relatives in New York. Then sitting in the hospital waiting we saw it on TV. How can I ever forget 9/11?
9/11 is also my dear friend’s birthday. So thank goodness for a happy association with the date. 9/11 also made think of another unforgetable day – JFK’s assassination, November 22, 1963. I remembered that it was a grey damp November. I think I was in grade 7 and walking home at noon for lunch after hearing the news. I remembered wearing a blue print skirt with race cars along the bottom. And I word a crinoline under it. Funny the details that we remember.
Now that I got the daily bug out, I can go to bed. I won’t be bugged by things not done. I can rest easy. Almost looking forward to tomorrow.
onethousandandtwo 