A Surprising Thing

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This morning was difficult for me to navigate. You could say I was feeling the lowest ever. No positivity any where near the horizon. The weather had turned cold. Snow was falling from a grey sky. I had a morning dental appointment. Iran and Donald Trump still heavy on my mind. Unresolved and undissolved disappointment with another human being. I have yet to learn acceptance of others as they are. I was a glum and unapproachable person.

It’s another morning. It is colder. The sun is pale, peaking through a grey sky. We’ve had a little more snow. The greenhouse has dipped into minus temperatures again. The greens I have seeded a few days ago won’t be germinating any time soon. Meanwhile, our world is just as dangerous, a push button away from never returning. There is a reason why buttons are dangerous, not only to toddlers but to kings and presidents as well.

I am, however, not as glum as I thought. It was a surprising thing for me to discover that yesterday. I can bounce back. It happened at the dentist’s office. What it took was just a change of scenery, getting into the car and into traffic and arriving at my destination. I had to interact with the receptionist, then the hygienist and dentist. All that disrupted my thoughts and feelings. I had to stop that in order to deal with what’s at hand. Such a simple thing, eh?

It is not that simple, of course, but it is a springboard into better thinking and moods. It stopped my rumination and regurgitation of the same old, same old. I have to keep working at it. It is not a one time fix. I have this habit of falling into the same hole. Don’t we all? So don’t sit with it. Move, move, and move some more.

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.

Looking a Cure

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I can’t believe that I am all done in just having a shower! I’m all out of puff. My cold lingers and I had to cancel yet another lunch date. I am getting better but the way things are, I am not sure what my ‘cold’ is. I don’t want to pass anything bad to anyone. I am going to take my father out for coffee tomorrow. It’ll be day 6 or 7 with this thing.

I’m trying to get my shit together. This scrolling disorder is hard to curb. I am wasting alot of time but I recognize that I am not alone in this. It is being a human with addictions. It is hard to stop even when I am not enjoying it. There’s no point in scrolling for a fix. It would be just another trap. The only sure cure would be to get rid of all my devices. I wonder what would happen if I did. Would I go mad, go into delirum tremens? Would I die? Would I go out and buy new ones? Somethings to think about.

There was a time I was the last one to get anything digital. I was happy then. I had time to enjoy my breakfast, listening to CBC on the radio. I didn’t google. I found everything of interest and needed at the librarby. I was able to sit down and read for hours at a time. Now, nothing seems to hold my attention and interest. I physically take out books from the library. I take them back mostly unread. Then there’s books I take out on Libby. Most of them return without me noticing. I am in a bad shape. I need my mind and brain back.

I’m realizing, too, that I don’t enjoy doing much of anything. I am really struggling with my spring seeding. I don’t bake cookies or muffins anymore. I still bake bread becuase it is a staple. But I haven’t done sourdough bread for a few years. I haven’t kept up with housecleaning since we lost Sheba and that’s almost 6 years. We are not living in filth. I haven’t deteriorated that much – yet. I think I’ve caught myself just in time. I’m working on a cure. It’s going to be a long work. At least I am freshly out of the shower squeaky clean.

How To Get My Shit Together

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I keep saying that I have to get my shit together. So far it hasn’t happened yet. So far I haven’t figured out how. At least I am feeling a little better. My cough is not as hard and harsh. My stomach and chest are sore. My shoulders stiff from hunching and holding them close. Sometimes I feel as if I’m going to cough up my liver. I’ve been drinking and drinking gallons of fluids and making a million trips to the bathroom. Such fun, eh?

Hopefully I am on the road to recovery. I was able to lie down and had a decent night of sleep. I’m having my second cup of tea and trying to tap out how to get my shit together. First, I think I have to curb scrolling and scrolling through news from south of the border. It’s not good for my mental health. But I do like reading Heather Delaney Reese’s and Heather Cox Richardson’s posts on the U. S. political scene. It’s good to stay informed. But I also need to disconnect and move on with my day and life. That’s the hard part.

I’m taking little stabs and short runs at it. Yesterday I finally did seed my peppers. They take a long time to germinate and need a long growing season. Maybe today I can seed a few eggplants. I haven’t been successful with them. I did learn they are heavy feeders and need lots of pruning. So maybe this is the year. My sunroom is a holy cluttered mess. I have to clear some surfaces to put the plant trays. I had never thought I could be this bad. But then I never counted on my mother dying either even thought she was in her nineties. How silly could I be?

Now I feel the harshness and difficulties of the past year. I was perhaps operating on numb. I just had to. Life goes on. I like to think this part is my healing journey. Now I know everyone goes through this. It is hard but also necessary. I like to think of it as Joan Dideon’s The Year of Magical Thinking. I should read this book and Blue Nights. They are hard reads. I will try.

Where would I be?

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I’m sicker today. It makes me mad with this hacking and hacking and the cough won’t turn over. Sometimes I feel like something is going to blow. Needless to say, I didn’t have a good night’s sleep. I’ve had to cancel two lunch dates now. I’m trying to make myself more comfortable but there just isn’t any way. I’m entitled to feel a little ticked off. The truth is I am alot ticked off. It doesn’t help that I’m reading all the stuff that is going on south of the border. Does that border really separate and keep us safe? Aren’t we already pretty well assimilated into the American ways?

The thought that we are makes me feel worse. Assimilated feels like being sucked in. We have no personality of our own. We watch American movies. We shop at Walmart. A lot of our businesses are American owned. Trump calls us the 51st state. I’m feeling worse. Sometimes I feel the same, no personality and sucked in. But is that true? I have to ask the Byron Katie questions. And where would I be if it wasn’t true? I think I would be in a happier place.

Tapping and getting it all out feels good. I hope I can get a good sleep tonight. Sleep can make such a difference. It can take the edge off my sour disposition. Maybe now I can coax myself into seeding a few peppers and maybe sew half a quilt block. How is your day?

100 Days of Frustrations or Squares?

Today is the first day of the #100dayproject. This year I am making another logcabin quilt for my sister. I will make a square/day for the next 100 days. Yesterday I spent time to clean and oil my Bernina 790 sewing machine. I need to prime and oil myself as well. I have almost one square done, but I am frustrated, hair standing on end. I haven’t organized or prepared my material. My work space is one big sunspeakable mess. I had to run and escape from all that.

I’m feeling stuck in emotional frustration as well as in physical chaos. What is wrong with me? No one is answering, offering any answers or advice. I must work through this all by my lonesome. It’s a forlorn journey. I think this is why when someone asks me for help, I am more than happy to lend a helping hand or a voice. Not having boundaries, I go way overboard. I would be the lifeguard who rescues someone drowning and takes him home with me instead of leaving him at the pool. It is too much. In due course I would get angry and lose my cool and things blow up and get messy.

Because I can’t say no and hurt people’s feelings, I end up doing that very thing. I hurt their feelings. Then I wonder what the hell happened? There, I’ve said it. I see it. I feel less frustrated and stuck. Maybe I can pitter, patter down to my chaotic sewing room, sort and organize and finish my one logcabin square. Wish me luck.

I Believe in Angels

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Here’s to my daily struggle to begin the day. My second cup of tea is in front of me. The sun is streaming through the windows. It is very beautiful in my sunroom in this moment. I am at ease. I failed to seed my onions and peppers yesterday. I will try again today. I am pleased that I and the world are not totally bleak and without hope. There are angels afoot whether we know/ believe it or not. They show up unexpectedly and in various disguises. I’m onto them now because I feel a spark in their presence.

While our world is not such a great place now, it is all we got. It’s up to us to make it better. I cannot control what others do, but I have control of what I do. It’s not for me to judge. It’s for me to do better. What can I do better today? Here’s a video that might be useful.

I will start small and try to add on. I hope my angels are watching and lend me a helping hand.

  • Find ways to curb ruminating on the past
  • Move more, resume my qigong practice
  • throw out 3 useless things

Heart Month

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February is heart month. I am letting that guide me through my days. Though Iife feels bland and senseless to me in these moments, I need not announce it or rain on someone else’s parade. This is the space to unload and work through those dark and messy things. What are feelings anyways? Are they real? What if I don’t have those feelings? How will I be? These are the questions that pop up from remembering The Work of Byron Katie.

I can be good at setting goals and intentions but not so great at carrying them out. It’s like people making New Year’s resolutions and dropping them by February. It’s difficult to follow through, day after day. It’s easy to lose heart. It is easy to fall into “I don’t care.” It is easy to throw up my hands and give up. I’ve done that numerous times. I’ve gotten back on track again many times. The thing I don’t do is make progress. I don’t pick up where I had left off. I always go back and start again at the beginning. It’s easier doing something you’ve done before.

How am I going to get out of that rut? How do I walk a different path so that I don’t fall back into the same hole? I’ve writtin many times about the same problem. I am writing about it again. How can I sing another song? I have the rest of February to wrestle with it. I am going to follow through.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN FIVE CHAPTERS
I
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost … I am hopeless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
II
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I’m in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
III
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in … it’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
IV
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
V
I walk down another street.
Portia Nelson

Staying Positive

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It’s February 1, 2026. A new month, a new day and another beginning. It’s cloudy and only -10℃. I think we had freezing rain overnight again. It’ll be slippery as hell out. Can you tell I am not in the best of spirits? I think I have a low grade depression. I think my iMac is, too. It’s stuttering, annoying the heck out of me. I am treading carefully, not wanting to slide off the low grade into the deep zone.

I was never one of those who woke up on the right side of the bed and bounced whistling into the shower. I curled and nestled deeper into the covers and didn’t rise till after 7 this morning. But there were times in the past when I looked forward to the morning going to bed the night before. I have it in me to be exuberant and joyful. I’m going through a bit of a snag right now. I find it hard to move. I have no desire to move. I’m not struggling but just sinking in my quagmire. I wonder who else is it with me.

I do still have a tiny glimmer within me, that streak of MacGyver. I think I can get out of this. I have to think like him. I have the tools.I have read and listen to all those self-help books on everything. I could probably do a workshop if I have a mind to. And that is the thing – I do have a mind to stay positive. That will be my goal for this February, to find ways to reboot/recharge myself.

I have soup bones souping in the Instant Pot. I must run and throw in a few more things to stir the pot. I hope to come back here again tomorrow.