Tag Archives: life

I HATE CHANGE/IT’S NEVER TOO LATE

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It’s day 4 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. 24 more days to go. I’m counting the days already. It shows that I’m not a planner. I haven’t laid out all the steps. I am a wing-it kind of a girl. I feel overwhelmed every day. You think that would prompt me to change. I hate change but it’s not too late to do it. Like the saying goes, it’s never too late until it’s over. I’ve always been a late bloomer.

I was 8 years old when I came to Canada. I had to start school all over from grade 1. I already had my grade 2 in Hong Kong but I didn’t know any English. The teacher had me stay in at recess to get me started. Her name was Miss Woodall. She had chin length reddish hair which she wore in a page boy. I remember she favoured wearing sweater sets and dirdle skirts. I think that was the style of the day. She used a picture book to teach me English words. I had trouble pronoucing words like roof and detour.

I did catch up one grade, taking grade 2 and 3 the next year. They thought I was smart and had a talent for drawing. When I graduated from high school, I was encouraged to go to university instead of secretarial school. I majored in fine arts and literature. I dropped out after 2 years and went to secretarial school. I worked as a steno for a few years, got bored and went into nursing. Through all my working years I talked about my big dream of being an artist. I had some great art teachers. I basked in the light of being in their classes. Meanwhile I did nothing else to realize my dreams.

I can understand the psychology of it now. It is much safer to talk about it. I can’t fail something I didn’t work on. But after many decades, I realized it was ridiculous to keep up that stupid chatter. In 2016 I finally stopped talking about it. I started making a little art each day for the100dayproject. And the rest is history. And I’m learning from my own history that it is never too late to change or to start something. The clock is ticking for all of us. I do not need it to overwhelm me. I will/can continue to block and blog away for another day.

HOW TO KEEP GOING INCH BY INCH

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Here I am on Day 3 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I am struggling already. I have to wisen up and listen to my body. I’ve been working it too hard lately with my daily ski and altering and sewing projects. My right hand is sore, numb and tingling at times. It’s probably from gripping the seam ripper too much. No more ripping and sewing heavy material for awhile. I can use one or two rest days a week from skiing. I will not rust from lack of activity.

I will keep going with the Ultimate Blog Challenge and the100dayproject. I really like Anne Lamott’s advice in her book Bird by Bird. It really is a manual for writing and life. When I get overwhelmed by any thing/project I think about her One-Inch Frame. I write/work within that frame until it is done, then I move to the next inch. I tap out a word/idea, sentence, paragraph. I’m building an idea/sentence/paragrah at a time. At the end I will have a blog post. If I write a few more posts, it could lead to a chapter. Chapters can add up to a book. I don’t have that aspiration. But who knows?

I work at my Log Cabin quilt squares the same way. Each square has 17 components. The project was actually started a few years ago. I had some 1 1/2 strips cut up but that was as far as I got. They’ve been patiently waiting for me all this time. I am not an experienced quilter but I have taken a beginner’s class a long time ago. I have lots of material and all the tools. The Log Cabin square begins by sewing two 1-inch squares together. They are 1 and 2 in the photo. Then I sew on 3. The strips are not cut to size except the first 2. I cut up two 1 1/2 inch lengths, allowing for 1/4inch hem allowances. Then I sew on 3 and cut off the excess length. Each seam is pressed before going on the next. There’s no rushing. Patience, Precision and Care. It settles my brain. It’s good for me.

KNOW WHEN TO STOP

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It’s Day 2 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. There certainly is an increased traffic on the site. It leaves me a bit breathless, feeling unsure if I can keep up. It doesn’t help that I’ve just come back from our daily cross country ski. We decided to change the scenery and went to a different park with a ski trail. It was alot longer than I had bargained for. I had trouble getting up a little hill and ended up on my backside. I’ve enough experience now that I know how to get up. I just need some time just to lay there and gather my thoughts, look up at the sky and rest.

Some kind hearted man and woman happened to witness my downfall. The man gave me verbal instructions. The woman, I’m not sure she was his wife, kept coming at me to give me a hand even though I was adamant I didn’t need help. I wasn’t even thinking of Covid. I could get up by myself. He finally had to hold her back. It made me wonder if she has some sort of dementia. She never spoke. I’m not sure if I felt more assured by his telling me that they were vaccinated. Why did he tell me that? I think it made me feel more anxious. I try to reassure myself that though neither of us were masked, we were outside. I was breathing a bit heavy but they weren’t. I know I am ok.

That reminds me that I probably should have a mask for these unexpected events. If I had one on my pocket, I could have put it on. I need to keep one in the car, too. I righted myself, took off one ski and climbed up that damned slippery slope and back on the trail. I could see the guy’s yellow jacket way over yonder where our car was parked. I wondered how long to get over there. Soon I could see that I was getting further and further away, in the opposite direction of where our car was. I cursed under my breath and turned my skis around. It was a good thing he came for me in the car. He found me as I was crossing the road. Otherwise, I probably would still be out on the trail – in the dark.

I am tired and a bit disgruntled. But I’m still in this challenge and the100dayproject. My third log cabin square look pretty good. My squares look like stained glass windows. 100 log cabin squares will make a beautiful queen sized quilt. My order of supplies came from Amazon came this afternoon. I must admit that I was a little disappointed. I was expecting 30 quilting fabric clips along with seam rippers and whatnot. I only got 9. That kind of put a knot in my panities. I sent off a note to Amazon in the hopes of getting the other 21 clips.

I’ve had a full day. Time to pack it in. I need a little rest. My hands are sore from all the ripping apart of old clothes to make into new and from gripping my ski poles. Sometimes when I get going, I don’t know when to stop. I have to do it now.

THE ULTIMATE CHALLENGE

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It is February 1, 2021. A new month and another Ultimate Blog Challenge. I have been a participant for a number of years now. Why am I doing it? Mostly because I love writing. It’s a practice that gives me structure to the day. I can work out problems and ease some of my angst on the page. I meet other bloggers and exchange views and ideas. It leads to community, sharing and helping each other. Writing and posting photos gives me a lot of pleasure. That alone is a good reason to join in. A challenge is a commitment. I’m more prone to deliver and succeed. So here’s to a month of writing a post every day. I wish all the participants success. I’m looking forward to reading their posts.

What am I going to write about? In the past, I had no plan at all. I sit down with my cup of tea and start a conversation. Sometimes I use the prompt our moderator sends out. I might very well do the same again. Off the cuff, a chat over tea. But I do have a bit of a plan. I’m in another challenge – the100dayproject. I am making a quilt square a day for that. I might talk about sewing and quilting things. February is heart month. There’s many heart issues I could talk about. February is also the time to start seeds. And then there’s cross country skiing I took up at the end of November. I’ve had a few mishaps and exciting moments to share.

It’s good that I started tapping away at the keyboard. Ideas and topics pop up. There’s so many things I could talk about and blog on. I can be quite a chatter box once I get going. Later in as I learn, I could talk about the whys, hows and rewards of keeping commitments. It’s going to be an exciting month. I am so glad that I’ve entered the challenge. I was getting slack and going silent. It could have gotten to be a bad habit. Now I don’t have to worry.

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WHISTLE WHILE YOU WORK

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The sun has finally shown up. These long winter days are longer and lasting longer than I had realized. It is almost February and almost 10 am. Things are wearing a little more on me. My antidote has always been have another cup of tea and tap a few words. The tea part is always easy. My words are not so readily come by these days. I’m now living in a world of one hand clapping. Can you hear it? It’s a place where it is difficult to clap back.

I’m doing my darnest to put my best foot forward. Each day I wake up, get up, dress up and show up. Sometimes it is hard not to feel sad in these times. When the numbers of Covid-19 positives and deaths are rising, there are still those anti-mask, conspiracy protesters. It is one thing to rally at the legislative buildings, it is another to gather and protest outside our chief medical officer’s home. And why do they not do that outside the health minister’s or the premier’s homes? Our chief medical health officer is a man of colour and has been verbally abused in past rallies.

It’s another morning. A little warmer today but I don’t find too much difference between -20 C something and -30 C something. Cold is cold but the sun is out. I’m on my second cup of tea. I try not to focus on how I feel too much. Mornings can be my best and worst at the same time. I’m not one who springs out of bed singing and whistling. The only ones I know who does that is Snow White and the seven dwarfs. Mind you, it is a very cheery tune. I can hear it in my head. It might be a great way to start the morning. It would give my rear end and my serotonin level a much needed boost.

Yesterday was a hard day – cold fatigue, lethargy and a dread in my head. Those things in the head are always worse than reality. Knowing that intellectually if not bodily, I forged ahead as best as I could. It’s wisdom to learn and change from experience. I’m glad I have wisened up a little. It’s about time! Life can be a little easier if I use my head and think things through before proceeding. Shopping can be exhausting for me during the best of times. Now it is more when we have to mask in all public buildings. I try to do all my shopping chores at one go. It can take some time as I do some for my parents, too. The last time, I got into a coughing fit from being masked too long. I had a few people looking at me nervously.

Now, I try to break it up into two segments. I do the pharmacy pick ups and groceries first. Then I take them outside to the car. That way I can take my mask off and get some fresh air before I go back into the mall to finish my other shopping. It worked well for me yesterday. And I ask the store employees to point me in the right direction to locate items. That way I don’t have to wander up and down aisles endlessly searching. I try not to park underground as the air smells of exhaust and I’m not sure of the circulation. But if I have perishables that would freeze and I’m not sure how long I would be finishing up, I would move my car there.

FEELING GOOD WHEN I’M FEELING BAD

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Sometimes my emotions can turn on a dime. I’m paying attention to identify the triggers. Maybe it is just a matter of my chemistry being altered and any one thing can upset my apple cart. By now I have had enough experience with my history, I don’t need to run off to the psychiatrist’s couch to lament or to ask for a prescription. I’ve also stopped reading those self-help books and taking online courses on how to fix myself. I have graduated from life’s school of hard knocks with a prestigious PhD. I am my own Personal Health Doctor.

No one knows me better than myself. It is about time that I listen and trust in me. It is only natural that we have good and bad days. What goes up, must come down. I should listen to the Blood, Sweat and Tears and “ride a painted pony, let the spinning wheel spin”. In other words, get on the damn merry-go-round and ride it out. It will eventually stop. So that’s what I’m doing – riding it out.

In the meantime I’m still living and feeling whatever it is that is here in me. I’m not trying to fight it off like I used to. That would be a form of self abuse, wouldn’t it, to deny part of yourself? Is self love not encompassing all parts of the self, the good, bad and ugly? Though it is hard, I do try to sit with all my physical and psychological discomforts. My natural inclination has always been to run away. It never works. It comes back again and again. And now, after I have stopped running, it comes back less and less. My bad feels better and better.

What is it that I do besides not running away? Well, nothing special. I just carry on with daily life as best as I can. I still have to get out of bed, dress up and show up. It’s doing all those boring things like brushing my teeth and other personal hygiene routines. It’s having nutrituous meals and getting fresh air and exercise. It’s keeping house and having hobbies. It’s showing an interest in life and others. Even when I don’t feel like it, I act like I am. There’s wisdom in faking it till you make it. One thing for sure is I never feel like just curling up and sleeping it off.

No matter how I feel, I can still bake – bread, cookies, muffins. It’s comforting to measure, mix and kneed. The aroma of bread and chocolate chip cookies baking is very healing. No matter how slow and sluggish I am, I still took apart a long winter coat, lining and all. Somehow, some way I will find the energy to revamp it into a different coat. Recently I sew up 2 pairs of panties from an old t-shirt. It’s good to have something to take apart when you’re feeling out of sorts. Then there’s painting. It’s also a good thing when you’re feeling blue and that your life is nothing. In those moments, I feel it’s ok to just splash paint and make a mess on the canvas. I am so delighted when something nice comes out of it. Then there’s writing. The tap, tap, tap on the keyboard is very relaxing and therapeutic. And I get to let out my angst. There’s pleasure in putting in and arranging my photos, too. I love reading other people’s words. Today I’m rereading Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre. The last time was when I was in high school.

ONE SQUARE A DAY

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It’s so difficult to come to the keyboard these days. It’s difficult to start a conversation. It’s equally hard to start the day. I’m trying hard not to let time slip away. The time on this earth is valuable. It is limited and it will never come again. I’m resolving not to let my thoughts and emotions get the best of me and render me useless. The show must go on. I start my day with those daily routines. Breakfast, taking my vitamins, getting out of my pjs, straightening a thing or two and feeding Oscar, my sourdough starter.

I wandered downstairs to look at my fabric stash. I’m thinking of joining the100dayproject. It starts on January 31st. I thought I would sew a square a day for a 100 days. I have already sewn a few squares together a couple of years ago, thinking I would make a colourful summery quilt. Here’s my chance to finish another abandoned project. It would give me a purpose, add to my daily routine. A square a day could keep the pyschiatrist away. It would also help to clear out my fabric stash.

It’s not that I lack things to do. I have a million and one interests/things to do. I lack emotional stamina to keep going. I fall into ruts and off the wagon often. I do need motivations, many cups of tea and those strong rah! rah! rah! from the sidelines to cheer me on to the finish line. My first 100dayproject in July/2016 helped me to realize doing art instead of just talking about it. Here’s the first and the 100th of that project.

I’m feeling super pumped now. It helps that I’ve just been out on the ski trails and breathing all that fresh air. I tried the ski trail at the Wildwood Golf Course the first time today. I did the 2.5 km perimeter loop. It’s just what I need to develop technique and confidence. It took some time to get back to the parking lot. I had no concept of how much being out there under grey skies. I quite enjoy the spaces when I was alone. I could practice without worrying about how ridiculous and clumsy I look or if I fall. I would have to had an audience when I couldn’t make it up a hill and slid backwards, eventually falling. But no despair but laughter on my part for now I am able glide downhill comfortably without much fear. I’ve left those weak knees and jelly legs behind.

I am so glad to have had this time together. It’s good to have this conversation. It makes me feel not so blue, that life has meaning and purpose. So I will let Carol Burnett take me out with her sign off song. And I will tug my earlobe for luck.

THE BEST OF TIMES, THE WORSE OF TIMES

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What strange times we are living in. It is almost straight out of Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. It is the best of times, it is the worse of times. I hope the outcome is that it is also the age of wisdom. We have no one person or country to blame. We are all in this together, whether it is by duplicity or complacency. We are in an upheaval. This is our French Revolution. It is unprecedented times.

It is a bit frightening. It does not make me want to take note. I still don’t like to take my head out of the sand. But I’ve finally all grown up. I come out and take a look around. I am learning to see how things as they are and not how I would like them to be. It’s a steep learning curve to take my personal emotions out of the equation. But I am getting it. You can teach an old dog new tricks. Enlightenment does not always bring gratification. Sometimes it brings regret – of wasted time and energy. Gratification comes much later.

I have been showing up less here on the page. I feel a reluctance to put down the words. I am also feeling an upheaval within, a change, a revolution. They are hard to articulate. I am sitting, feeling and savouring them for awhile. I am giving them and myself time to evolve and develop. I don’t want to sabotage the outcome as I have many times in the past. Meanwhile I’m trying to live each day, be my own person as best as I can.

I am still working on Stephanie Bennett Vogt’s A Year to Clear. I have faltered a little here and there but always try to get back on track. It is easy to do one little thing a day on hard days. When things flow I do more. I guess that’s what going with the flow means. There’s no point wasting energy fighting myself. I’ve learned to put that energy to better use. I have given up growing lettuce in these winter months in the greenhouse and the sunroom for the same reason. There is not enough sunlight. It is a season to rest from the planting, growing and harvest of the preceding months. It is the time to get ready for spring and start the cycles again.

We are still in the midst of Covid-19. It will not be over soon. We are locked in, psychological if not physically. I’m beginning to feel much like Dickens’ characters, Charles Darnay or Dr. Mannette locked in jail. I worry about my mental and emotional well being. It is good to have projects and challenges to work on. This is a gift of time. I shall put it to good use. The days are slowly getting longer. In a few weeks I can think about starting a few bedding plants. This is the best of time to do different, to do better, to reinvent our lives and our world.

THE LONELIEST NIGHT OF THE YEAR

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It is New Year’s Eve. It’s the first Christmas and New Year without Sheba. My eyes mist and my throat tightens. It is the way of nature. There’s birth, life and then death. A cycle complete but not an ending. I like to think that Sheba came to me in the guise of a fox the other evening while skiing in the park. I went or fell down two little hills. A little fox came and stayed with me till I was on my feet again. I thought it was a cat at first. I called ‘here kitty’. It came within a certain distance, crouched down and watched me all the while. I felt we were part of each other, breathing in and out. A miracle of connecting. Perhaps it was Sheba coming to check on me. I remember her favourite cuddly was her little fox with a squeaker in the head and tail.

Happy New Year has come and gone. Not as much fuss as other years but it was still marked with an explosion of fireworks at midnight. I did not feel I missed much. Most of my new year’s eves have been pretty quiet affairs. Sometimes it can be the loneliest night of the year for many people. I know that I’ve often felt a misfit and a failure on many of these evenings. One year my then husband and I attended a New Year’s Eve party at his boss’s house. There was a pot of chili on the stove, people here and there. We all wore party hats and had whistles streamers. At midnight we dutifully blew our whistles but none of us seemed at all pumped. It was the saddest party of all times. It still left an impression on me after all these years.

I’m well past my prime and finally I’m okay being left out of the hoopla. What I mean is I’ve never been a party girl but never been brave enough to admit it. It’s a natural thing to want to fit in, be part of the crowd. I wonder if we are all like that – putting up a front. So for the first time, I don’t have to make up a cover story for New Year’s Eve. I did nothing. So there is a silver lining to every cloud, even Covid-19. I probably wouldn’t have taken up skiing either if it didn’t happened. I would have missed out on our moonlight skis. I would have missed the fox/Sheba encounter. I wouldn’t have had this pause to think, to question the many aspects of life, of relationships, of my past thinking /behaviour, of where to next and how to get there.

THE BEST OF EACH DAY

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These last days of 2020 seem the hardest. It’s a good reason to return to the keyboard – to put words onto the page instead of getting lost in my emotions. Be here. Be now. I try not to give myself a hard time. It is cloudy and oppressive. I stand up, pick up and straighten a few things. I look out and see the children playing outside at the daycare, one house over. It is good to see and feel their energy. I put the kettle on. I damp mop the livingroom and kitchen in the meantime. I make a cup of black instant decaf. I welcome the change of taste.

There, I’ve gotten a hold of myself! I didn’t let myself drift off into the wave of what should I call it – lassitude, boredom, listlessness, anxiety, hopelessness, depression? A medley, a stirfry of negative energy/emotions. I think I’m just being human. Who can honestly say that they haven’t been feeling any of these? Perhaps it is an overworked phrase but we are in hard times. We’re in the muck of Covid-19. It is not the first in the history of the planet. It’s only one of many but it could be the beginning of the end of us. So let us learn from it, shall we?

There’s no use crying over spilt milk or locking the barn door after the horse is gone. We must work together to make our world healthier and safer. How will you contribute? The first step forward is not to deny we have a problem. I have done that. The next step for me is not to feel hopeless and defeated by my and our world’s problems. There are good days, not so good ones and then there will be bad days. No two days are equal. But I can choose to do my best for the day I’m in. I can trade up with one paperclip at a time.

It is afternoon. The day is still cloudy as can be. I have managed to stirfry something for lunch, do the dishes and make a list for my errands. I could not find my car or house keys. My head is as heavy as lead. No point in a desperate search. I used the guy’s keys. At Freshco I picked up my prescription and a few things for my mother and myself. It was a long wait at the cashier line. Someone was having a coupon issue. I waited with patient forbearance. I was silent behind my mask, breathing in and out. I was through in due time. I did a little meandering through the mall in search of something. Strange to see a coffeeshop with tables removed and bottles of sanitizer on an empty table. Strange to see people having coffee in such surroundings.

It is now late afternoon. My mother was happy with my delivery – super fresh daikon, pasta, bananas, grapes, pasta and 2 Hawaiian pizzas. I took her some of my baked pumpkin chocolate chip muffins and cookies, too. She was delighted with the steamed Chinese buns I gave her over Christmas. She said that if I added a bit of sugar to the dough, it would be just perfect. There was a time when it was my mother who gave me home cooked stuff. And I couldn’t say no. Now the shoe is on the other foot.