Fascination

It is a sunny April 4th. I’m always fascinated how the morning and sun changes everything. the world is not quite so dark and I don’t feel quite as bad. I think my cold broke during the night and I am heading towards feeling better and better. Though the world is not better but even worse today, it is fascination that I feel. In Caroline Myss words, we are living in the age of the unthinkable and unimaginable.

Aren’t you just fascinated watching how Donald Trump, the President of the United States and Pete Hegseth, the Secretary of War are behaving and talking? Aren’t you just fascinated that they are running a war? It isn’t a Hollywood movie though it feels much like one. Most of all, I am fascinated that I am so focused on all this whereas before I had no interest in politics. I am really just an artsy fartsy person at heart. Perhaps I am waking up to the world around me. It is time for me to pay some attention and do whatever I can to help.

It is Easter weekend here in the Americas. We’re thinking about turkeys and hams. Then I think about the ‘they’ in the Middle East. I’m thinking of the civilians. Their country is being bombed. In my mind’s eye, I see the rubble falling on the children’s heads. It must be so terrifying. And here I sit, safe and comfortable, in my sunroom. I am not feeling the pain or trauma of life torn apart.

Perhaps I am too serious. Perhaps I shouldn’t be saying all this. But this is who I am. It is hard for me to be silent on things that matter to me. I am often surprised I still keep talking my heart when I get misunderstood and do not get much support. As I’ve often said myself, I am like a dog with a bone. I used to think that as a negative trait. I beat myself up on it. My vision has changed and I quite like that part of me now. Isn’t life fascinating – how it and we can change?

Hello April

It is another beginning of a new month. The world feels like one big April Fools prank. I wish it was. Then I could laugh and be merry. Alas, it isn’t so! There’s real bombs going off. The world now is a crazy place full of crazy people. I shall have to buckle up my shoes, pull up my socks and do the best I can. Today is also the first day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge for April. My goals are to show up each day with a post and to have fun at it. I’ve been very much obsessed with what is happening in the U.S.A and the Middle East. It hasn’t been a feeling good activity but hard to stop. It hasn’t been good for my mental health or my brain. Fun could be good therapy.

It is strange for me to talk of ‘having fun’ since I am a super serious person by nature. Perhaps this is a month to experiment with ‘having fun’. It could be my new grand adventure. I don’t think I will be trying any bungee jumping or jumping out of airplanes type of fun things. I think I would rather dabble in more tame activities that would bring me simple pleasure. One fun thing I’ve discovered lately is an afternoon nap. I’m not used to laying down in the middle of the day. At first it was uncomfortable, taking some time for me to relax and settle in. To my surprise I was able to drift off to sleep and then waking up on my own. The whole process took only half an hour. I felt so good and rested after. It disrupted my scrolling addiction for awhile.

It is therapeutic and fun to muck about in the greenhouse. It is warm enough afternoons now that I can while the cares away for an hour or so in there. Another ‘fun’ thing for me is writing. I love stringing words together to see what stories I can tell. Words help me make sense of the world. Words helps me to vent. They give me comfort and love. These are very good reasons to participate in the Ultimate Blog Challenge. It also gives me an opportunity to meet other writers and read from their point of view. It is always good to be part of a community.

There’s a Crack in Everyone/Everything

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A very grey March afternoon. The plus temperatures have melted much of the snow. There’s water everywhere. There is snow in the forecast for the next three days. I have been stuck for the last while but I don’t know where. I’m not going forward or backward. I am resigned and not fighting it. Because what is the use? How can I fight this unknown thing, condition, feeling? What could I fight it with?

Not much snow came. It is morning. Another grey day. I am not quite as downcast. I have to say that our world is broken. There is a crack in everything and everyone. I am not sure if that’s where the light comes in. I do not feel apologetic about my ‘negative’ but appropriate mood. To feel otherwise would be unnatural and denying reality. I no longer buy into the myth of “I can rise above everything.” Sometimes I can’t and it is ok. There is nothing wrong with me. I do not need to fix myself. I do not need counselling or medication. Life is not always a bed of roses.

Like Donald Trump, I have no plans on how to move forward. But I am not impulsive. I have no energy to do anything rash. I am not reckless by nature. Yesterday, driving to Tim Horton’s for a large coffee was exciting enough for me. Being in a coffeehouse wafting with aromas of coffee and baking and bustling with customers helped to reset my mood from gloom to a brighter hue. Today, I plan to work in the greenhouse, cleaning it of what remains of last year’s growth. It is warm enough now to seed some lettuce and spinach. I think I can manage that.

Now it is almost time to think about making lunch.

Pulling Myself Up

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A sunny March 15th. I think I shall live after all. I woke up feeling fine with just a small cough and not drowning in mucus. I can’t say enough how fine healthy feels. I was very worried for a few days. I am celebrating with a second cup of tea. Here’s to our health! I’m putting the ‘hard stuff’ behind me. I’m looking forward to spring and the new growing season. My onion seedlings are doing nicely. They’ve had their first haircut. The celery will need to be transplanted soon or they will get too leggy. In another week or so they can all be moved into the greenhouse.

However, afternoons are still tough for me. My energy and positivity vanished, replaced by a low grade depression. I hope it won’t last 2 years like Google says. Perhaps I should not call it a low grade depression or what is medically termed as Dysthymia. I certainly don’t think I need medication or professional help. I feel better alrlealdy by going out for a cup of tea and a bit of chocolate cake at the nearby bookstore. A change of scenery seemed to have chase the fatigue away. Now if I can totally get rid of this damn cold. If all the bad people involved in the Epstein Files get what they deserved and if Donald Trump get impeached, it would help my mental health alot. While I’m with the ifs, it would be nice if there was no fake news.

There are too many if(s). The world is a whole shit load of a mess. It’s hard not to get depressed. I need to get my head out of it. I need more mornings and less afternoons. I need to pull myself up by the bootstraps. I need to write different words and different thoughts. I can do it.

Slow Living

It is March 8th. It rained this morning. It is day 15 of #the100dayproject. I have been working a little on it each day. My cold is still hampering me. I can’t go great guns with anything. However, I am happier with this slower pace of living and sewing. I am enjoying the process more. I have 5 completed logcabin blocks and 2 partial ones. I continued to be my usual disorganized self, not having my fabrics sorted to darks and lights. I don’t have all the strips cut either. I am in continuous state of search for the best strip.

It is a grey dismal day.This world is going nowheres fast except maybe to war. I am astounded by this world we’re in, aren’t you? I feel as if we are in a fake reality show. The only trouble is, it is not fake. It is not a bad idea to stick my head in the sand, ignore all this madness and do the things that nourishes me. Wake me when it is all over.

I had coffee with my 94 year old father this afternoon. We talked about the times from way back. He still has a good memory. The very first house we lived in was behind the cafe. It was owned by the town doctor. The rent was $7/month. It had 2 rooms. The linoleum was peeling. The next house was by the highway, across from the railway station. It was owned by grain elevator company. The rent was $20/month.It was bigger but not really better. My foot went through the floor board in a bedroom.

It was good to have memories to share. We hadn’t shared or conversed much before. We had a laugh over the rent. Who would have thought I could do this with my father?

Antidotes For What Ails Me

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My cold is still with me. It is attached and reluctant to leave. I am an endless fountain of gooey mucus. Like Christopher Plummer, I don’t like the sound of mucus. I’m carting around a large toilt roll from Costco. I’m constantly blowing and spitting into toilet paper. The roll diminishes quickly. It’s cheaper than Kleenx. I dislike using a spittoon. It grosses me out.

I’ve had a week of this misery. Just when I think I’m getting better, I get knocked down again. Last night was a hard one. I was afraid I was getting super ill, enough that it made me seek help from my prayer community. It helped. I was able to fall asleep shortly after. In the morning I felt better in some ways and worse in some. Now, at the end of the day, I can see light at the end of the tunnel. Being sick could have been what I needed.

What I needed was to see I have to take care of me. Being a caretaker by nature, I tend to look outward to others’ needs. I seldom think of my own. I am doing that now. I see that endless scrolling is making me sick. I feel it but seem unable to stop. The more I touch that button, the more I want to even though it brings me no pleasure. I was pleasureless enough yesterday that I was able to curb my addiction. I limited my scrolling time to before breakfast. I sought out other activities that would bring me pleasure.

One antidote is reading Margaret Atwood’s biography Book of Lives: A Memoir of Sorts. I’m travelling through stories of her childhood now. They’re delightful. Just what I need. Another activity is non-activity. I laid down on my exercise mat with my legs resting on an armchair for 10 minutes, doing nothing, trying to empty my mind. It wasn’t hard. It was pleasant and restful, not fussing about anything, letting the world go on by without me. It also helped to drain gooey mucus out of me.

Working on Joy and Hope

It’s March 1, a new month and a new day, so they say. I woke up to the same world, full of bad news of Donald Trump and bombing in the Middle East. No overnight transformation of world peace and love. Whatever happened to the age of Aquarius? Where is the humanitarism and collective consciousness? Where has our conscience gone?

As you can see, I still am sick of this world. I am still a bit sick with my cold. It could be affecting my outlook. It doesn’t help that my iMac is not performing at its best. I am still working on improving my mood, trying to find some positivity and joy. I don’t want to add my negativity to the already existing toxic pool. This morning I found 2 inspiring stories. I should say they found me. I had not known or heard of these individuals before.

The first one was Margaret Anne Cargill. She was an heir to millions. Yet she lived a simple life and donated everything to charities anonymously. The 2nd person was Hamzah Jihad Furquani. He made 13 cents an hour as a prison janitor. He donated $17.74 of his earnings to relief efforts in Gaza. Their backgrounds were totally different but their hearts were the same, big and generous. Their stories are fascinating reads for me. They are real and not fake news. It gives me hope and inspiration in these dark times. I try a little harder to find and feel joy. I try a little harder to have a good day. The world is still full of good people. But we still need to acknowledge the evil, too.

I’m 8 days into the #100dayproject of sewing logcabin quilt blocks. My pace is slower, making a ½ block a day. The slower pace is more enjoyable. Here’s square #3 and #4.

Chinese New Year

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It’s another new day and year. It is the year of the Fire Horse, which symbolises independence, ambition, and energy. So I might get out of Dodge after all. I didn’t have too much traction yesterday. I still haven’t seeded my onions and peppers. No qigong yet. I’m still ruminating about the past. This morning I was remembering telling someone at work that her husband looked like Lee Marvin, the movie star. I thought it was a compliment but she yelled at me. “Lily, you are just so rude!” That scared the hell out of me. I worried about my lack of judgement and social etiquette. I avoided her like the plague after.

I ruminate about my personality and character alot. I worried about how I measure up to others. Am I ok? Am I selfish, unforgiving, blah, blah, blah. The Epstein File deluge helped me see that we are all very strange creatures, flawed and lacking in so many and different ways. Some of us are very sick. None of us can judge. This makes me feel a whole lot better. It’s probably not the right thing to say. Who cares? I’ve been accused of saying things that people would only think. I think the people saying that to my face are guilty of the same, don’t you think? You can see that I am still ruminating and hurting. Words have a long history.

But this is a new day/new year. Yesterday, I have thrown out 3 things (obsolete keys), vacuumed the whole upstairs floors and did some light dusting. I felt cleaner and less cluttered. I had coffee at my father’s house in the afternoon. We decided we didn’t have to ‘celebrate’ with dim sum or supper out. I breathed a sigh of relief. I don’t have anything against ‘celebrations’ and making a big deal about everything. But I do protest against feeling obligated to do so because that is what everybody does. Sometimes it is nice just take off my shoes, let down my hair and relax with a sandwich, pizza, bowl of soup or whatever. I feel celebratory sitting with just a cup of hot tea.

It’s taken me this long to figure this out. I don’t have to do like everybody. It’s ok to be different. I am ok. It makes me happy. Gong hei fat choy” (恭喜发财)!

On Sadness

I’m feeling incredibly sad in the moment. I am going to sink into it and use it for a rest. I am not going to berate myself for not being a better person and rise above it. True, it is a beautiful day. The sun is shining and the temperature is way above normal for February. I can appreciate all that. At the same time, I know what it tells us about climate change and global warming. It depresses me to no end that some people still think that it is a hoax while I feel our world is ending.

I know, I know, I am way too glum and serious. I acknowledge that but some people are way too glib. I am also a bit under the weather because of all the melting snow. Whether it is too early or not for snow molds, I’ve been experiencing watery eyes, runny nose and fits of dry harsh coughing. I’ve been worried about getting sick like the previous year. I’ve been crossing my fingers and toes. So far, so good. I’m over the worse of it and recovering. Sad as I am, I can still appreciate life and this morning’s beautiful sunrise.

Did I tell you that change is hard? If I hadn’t, I am telling you now. It is very hard and uncomfortable. But it is a whole lot better for me to consciously change than to leave the change to everything and everyone around me. I want to be the director and the captain of my ship. I take responsibility and can’t blame anyone except myself.

I have never found it much help talking to another about feelings. Most people, instead of just listening and accepting, tend to want to explain and fix. It doesn’t work for me because it makes me feel unheard, that there’s something wrong with my feelings. Therefore it makes me feel worse. However, now that I’ve wrestled with and discovered how it makes me feel, I’m feeling better. I am not as sad. There’s light at the end of the keyboard.

Having Faith

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February 8th. Cloudy, 0℃, freezing rain warning and snow forecasted. For far, so good. No rain nor snow. I’m still recovering from my cold or whatever I’m afflicted with. My cough is less and looser. So my self ministering works. I’ve been drinking almost nonstop for a couple of days – tea, decaf, herbal tea, hot water. So much sometimes I don’t quite make it to the bathroom in time. Then there’s the tylenol and neti pot saline rinses. I tried to stop this cold but even when I felt it coming, I couldn’t stop it. It had to have its day. It was like trying to stop a charging bull, a speeding train or a tsumani. Though I couldn’t stop it, I’ve lessened the impact.

Now that I have the momentum, I’m still tapping on the keyboard. It keeps me sane. It’s enough reason to keep going. I feel like I have someone to talk to, someone who understands, doesn’t judge and doesn’t talk back. There’s nothing that could make me feel worse than someone trying to make me see sense, see ‘the other side’. It’s something that I need to do for myself. What I need is to have the faith, trust in my feelings and intuition, lay low, stay quiet and let things be.

Though technically we are connected 24/7, I don’t feel we are connected emotionally at all. There’s this distance and emptiness. It’s difficult to have the faith. I’m working on it. I’m lonely without it. I miss my mother. I miss how things used to be. I can’t understand anything any more. Perhaps I shouldn’t try so hard to understand but it is surprising to find Dr. Phil showing up at ICE Raids. And why all the fury on immigrants? Aren’t we all immigrants here in North America except for the aboriginals? Aren’t we all human inhabitants of the planet? Doesn’t it belong to all of us?

Why are we killing each other? It’s making me furious. I feel like we’re experiencing a global autoimmune disorder. We are attacking each other. We are each other’s enemy. For this, I need to find and keep the faith that we can do better. I am tired. I need to just shut up and believe and be strong.