Tag Archives: practicing

PRACTICING

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The second day of the rest of my life finds me here at my keyboard. I’m practicing what I’ve been talking about doing – writing daily. I try not to think too hard and fast and just write from what pops into my head. My head is multi-tasking this morning. It is skipping from one thought to another. It makes it hard to sit and stay here. I had to get up from time to time, do a little of this and a little of that. There’s a pot of little cherry tomatoes simmering on the stove. I’ve paid the bills online. I made a cup of tea and had a walk in the back and front yard gardens. I’m feeling a little more settled.

I’ve discovered that the Sweet One Million cherry tomatoes make excellent tomato sauce. I am sure I have about a million of them. I’ve been giving them away but they keep producing, ripening and piling up on the dining room table. They’re good attraction for those damn fruit flies when they get over ripe. That’s how they ended up in the pot this morning. There’s only so many I can put in salads or just pop into my mouth. I’ve also discovered it is much less labour intensive cooking up a small batch of sauce at a time. Smaller batch, smaller pot, smaller cleanup. I am a happy camper.

Small anything and everything is good when I am starting up. A small practice every day will get better. That small can get bigger with practice. There’s no right or wrong way, no good or bad time. It just have to work for you. And you find what works or doesn’t work by doing. I’m not looking for magic nor am I trying to write a great novel. I love the tap, tap of the keyboard. I rather tap out all the mess that’s circling in my head onto the screen. I’m just trying to stay sane.


TIME AND ENERGY

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It is 1:18 pm. Sheba and I are having a mini session of sitting, get down and staying. It’s what we do in the afternoon. Obedience training for her, patience training for me. She is momentarily distracted by the guy leaving for his workshop. There is some excited barks and prancing around. We refocus. Now she’s on her bed licking per paws . A quiet interlude. We will go to the park for her reward later.

It’s a beautiful sunny and warm day. A lot of the snow have melted. I should be jubilant. Instead, I am in an undetermined mood -somewhat despondent, somewhat mellow yellow. No, I’m not under the influence of drugs. Maybe languid is a better word. Energized is not my frequent state. It is no wonder that nothing seems to matter to me. To care takes a lot of energy, energy that I don’t have.

But in order to live and thrive in this world, one has to give a shit somehow. I know what happens when you don’t. You fall through the ‘cracks’. I imagine they are the same cracks that lets the light in in Leonard Cohen’s song, Anthem. All the same, I rather stay out of them. I’m experimenting on how to manage the energy that I do have.

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I took time and Sheba out in the middle of this post. We went to the dog park and had us some time. Some days you just have to make that effort. Some days are made for sniffing snow and to look up at the blue of the sky. Sheba found a few furry bums to sniff, too. All the better. She did get into a scrap or two but it was all good. No blood was shed. We came home tired and hungry but also refreshed. So it was double the pleasure to sit with my tea, toast and jam while Sheba devoured her kibbles.

Now it is evening. I’m sitting with my wine, trying to tap the end to my mumblings. Perhaps the wine isn’t helping my thinking or writing. What I can say is morning is the best time for an energy burst. I indulge myself with reading in my tea time before breakfast. I’m still engrossed in Last Night in Twisted River. I love it. There’s lots on cooking in it since it is about a cook and his son. After breakfast I try to do the hard stuff – those chores of keeping house and lives in order. If I leave those for later, it doesn’t happen.

You must know by now that after lunch, my energy leaves town and me with it. Afternoon is the time I sit to tap even though I feel like napping. It’s working out. I’m succeeding and stretching for more. I’m learning to adapt my activities to my energy and time of day. It is a struggle but if I don’t struggle and stretch, I would end up being a puddle on the floor. I’m struggling now and will struggle to review and edit this – practicing to be patient.

 

 

 

 

SOME INSTRUCTIONS ON HOW NOT TO LIVE & WRITE LIKE A MAD HATTER

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I feel this morning’s darkness in me.  I stretch to receive all that is good out there.  I make my cup of Chai.  Do you know that today is October 6 – 10/6?  It is Mad Hatter Day.  To celebrate I leave my morning bed head alone.  I am such a lucky girl.  I have at least 3 cowlicks.  My head of hair looks quite like the mad guy’s hat every morning.  I will spare you a picture.

Inhaling and exhaling a few times has ushered in a breath of joie de vivre.  The darkness is gone.  I’m myself again.  Rituals and habits of quigong and a rich cup of Chai gets me moving.  I’ve discovered through trial and error,  I work best in 15 minute stretches.

IMG_1505It makes a lot of sense for me.  I am impatient and have a short attention span and fuse.  I interrupt people a lot.  Details drive me mad.  I live life in a whoosh, what is also known as The Big Gulp.  Remember those?  I don’t think we’ve recovered from that.  We are still in the BIG of things, the more of stuff, the faster the better all the time.  If I click enter and nothing happens, I get pissed off PDQ.  I get rude.

When I lived like that, there was no savouring, no discerning of nuances.  Everything  struck me with full force – right smack in the face.  I reacted and bounced off walls.  Then it was over.  I scratched my head, wondering what the hell had happened.  It was too late.  I had done myself harm.

I’m trying to do different now.  I’m stretching and exercising my left brain.  Calmness and orderliness would be a good change of pace.  I don’t want to live by emotions alone.  What Lola wants, Lola gets.  That’s how the song goes, right?  I’m having some success.  Let me see if I can lay it out for you.

It’s not the sort of thing that I’m good at.  I’m not skilled at articulating a process.  I’m not good at teaching or giving instructions.  I’ve never mentored nor asked to mentor a student or a novice nurse in my 30 plus years as a nurse.  It’s not that I’m not a team player. It’s that I’ve never been asked.

IMG_1506Is my nose a little disjointed over the fact?  No, but it is a little sore.  I have the belief that I’m lacking.  I’m not good enough. There’s a bit of shame, too in not being an elder.   Let me not wait any longer for someone to ask  tell me to do something. Let me do it, practice a weakness/a want – working in 15 minutes or as Anne Lamott says in her book BIRD BY BIRD, writing down as much as she can see through a one-inch picture frame.

I’m finding life and writing much easier and palatable in small bites.  I put my focus in that 15 minute/one-inch frame. There is no room or time for me to get irritated and frustrated.  My energy is contained and directed.  I am safe, creating in my sacred space.  I let go of all else for that time.  There’s time enough after for all else.

I keep the promises to myself, staying committed to the 15 minutes, writing at least 500 words/day.  If things are flowing the minutes stretch a bit, of course.  Practice does make better.  Thoughts, ideas, or pictures that come in smoky vapours are jotted down because I know what happens if I trust that to my memory.

A caught word, a phrase, a sentence or two work magic for me.  They have prompted me to write a couple of hundred words upon rising the next morning.  When I’m stuck, I get up and do something else.  There’s no sense in wasting time pushing myself and getting frustrated.  I use those frustration times to stretch, do a load of laundry, tidy up my desk… Little things add up to a lot of housework done, leaving me more free time and feeling mellow.

This morning after I had written 300 some words, I had breakfast.  Then I put the makings of chicken soup – carving the carcass, washing and chopping up vegetables  – on the stove to simmer while Sheba and I went for our walk.

IMG_1507We’re back and I am putting the finishing touches on my instructions.  Not great, but I’m trying and practicing on thinking logically.  I hope there’s sense and order in the directions.

The chicken soup is ready.  Do you find this helpful in any way?