I can make intentions and write down so many goals. It’s hard to make them stick though. It’s so easy to fall off the wagon that I don’t even have to try. I can always blame it on gravity. It’s not my fault and I would be right. This is according to Professor Paul Gilbert, the founder of compassionate focused therapy. I love his teachings.
So I am going to practice compassion towards myself. I will keep trying, knowing that I will fall off the wagon again and again.
I am amazed at how bright and hot the May sun is. By 9 am the greenhouse was already 30℃ with shade down, vents and door opened. My sunroom was bathed in bright light by 7 am. It showed every little speck of dust. The sun came through as a cloudy haze. I ran my fingers on a window pane. It was gritty. So it wasn’t my eyes. It was dust.
I am amazed how easy and hard it was to clean the windows. A squirt bottle filled with apple cider vinegar laced water, a dust cloth and a stepping stool were all the tools I needed. Squirt and wipe, squirt and wipe. I am amazed at how many windows I got in the sunroom – 3 wallls. I got hot and sweaty after 1½ walls. I’m tired, too, hopping on and off the stool. I’m having a breather and a cup of tea.
I am amazed at how green and lush everything has grown in the greenhouse the last couple of days. The snowpeas are almost even with the rock wall. The lettuce bushy. The spinach is catching up. The radish are radishing. I planted most of the pepper seedlings in the raised bed yesterday. I will have to repot some of the tomatoes or plant them soon. They are getting spindly and outgrowing their pots. Then there’s the cucumbers and bitter melons. The bottle gourd has not yet germinated. Will it?
I am amazed that Mother’s Day is a week away. How time flies. It will be a year since mom fell the day before Mother’s Day and broke her hip. I remembered the phone call from my father as I was just sitting down at a restaurant with my friends. The rest is history as people would say. I am amazed at her resiliency. Her hip mended. She was still bright, alert and orientated x3. She could ambulate and get to the bathroom on her own. She was still fiercely independent, disliking homecare. But the trauma was too much for her body. Though she didn’t qualify for a nursing home, she did for heaven 5 months later.
I am amazed at how beautiful her tulips are, blooming away for her. I am happy to be so amazed.
Well, I’m late to the keyboard. Hope I can dash off a few paragraphs without a hitch. Sundays used to be a day of rest. Used to. Even though I am retired I don’t have too many rest days. Even though I like to be sloth it is hard to stay put. Life seems full. That is a good thing so I should not complain too much. It’s just that I am tired and achy these days. The old body doesn’t want to cooperate with my wants.
Since I’ve read Atomic Habits not so long ago, I should practice what I’ve learned. I have this bad habit of just collecting information but not putting them to use. Now is a good time to start. It is obvious I’m tired. It is hard to move and I don’t want to. I can go easy on myself and let go of the shoulds today. It doesn’t matter if my table is all cluttered up again. I have space to do what I need to. The mess can wait another day. I haven’t got the sourdough bread started either. That can wait till tomorrow. No skiing today either. It’s not worth it to aggravate my foot problems when the tracks are poor.
But I did take time to do my mobility exercises. I’m making progress with my plantar fasciitis. It is wise to keep going and not lapse. Sundays I visit with my parents and do their vacuuming. It’s a good get away from my own mess. I always enjoy a snack and conversation with my mother. Today I listened to her conversation with a friend on the telephone. It was a good education on how to get old 101. I could hear just her end. It was on family, health, what and how to cook when you’re in your 90’s with small appetite and sparse teeth. My mother is still very resourceful at 92. She’s still sharp as a tack. I come from good genes. Thank the Lord.
Day 21 – the Ultimate Blog Challenge
If Sunday is suppose to be a day of rest, I didn’t get any. Not that I am complaining. I am enjoying this burst of energy while it lasts. Perhaps it’s the sun. Perhaps it’s the heat. Wherever it came from, I’m grateful and making good use of it. I hope it will last for a good while.
Being Sunday, it was a sourdough pancake breakfast to start the day off. Then it was out in the garden harvesting a little of this and a little of that. It turned out to be quite alot by the time I was finished – lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, bitter melons, raspberries and strawberries. Since I was still pumped, I thought I better head over to our community garden, harvest the snowpeas and water the plot. It was still relatively cool with a promise of a high of 29℃.
Our community garden plot is performing well. The snowpeas have done amazingly well. I’ve been harvesting every other day and they are still coming. I’ve been unable to grow them at home because of the birds. They love them, too. They get eaten as soon as the seeds germinate and poke their heads out of the ground. Same goes for beets. I do not know why the birds don’t go after them away from home dwellings.
Sundays I have coffee with my mother and help her with a little vacuuming. She’s more frail this year but is still fiercely independent. I have to be ok with what little she will let me do. She’s not able to do much gardening this summer but likes to have her morning walk in the yard. She uses her long handled weeder as a cane to walk and weed as well. She is slow but steady. The yard is immaculate. My brother is the gardener now, as well as mowing and watering the lawn.
It was a very nice day. I felt happy and relaxed, satisfied with myself. Walking home from my mother’s I saw my yard from a passerby’s vantage point. It was very beautiful in dappled sunlight . I caught my breath and couldn’t help but tarry and linger amid the lilies awhile before going in.
Saturday. Five days have passed since my drama with my crazy neighbour. I’m almost back to normal but I will never be the same again. I am stronger and smarter. I know I cannot let my guard down with her and in no way can I engage with her. Knowing and saying all this is no guarantee though. I am human. I can slip up. Accidents happen. What cannot happen is I get reactive and angry. It can kill me. I remember all the emotions that ran through me. I was on fire with no escape. After 5 days, the fire is out. I’m left with a dull sorrow wondering how someone could hate me that much for no reason known to me. We live next door to each other but not in each other’s lives.
No, hate is not too strong a word. And no, it’s not a misunderstanding. I’ve lived beside this woman now close to 15 years. It was like this from the beginning. And if you ask me what’s it all about, it’ll be hard to tell you. And you probably think I’m the one causing the trouble. If it is not one thing, it is another. It never stops. I joined a support group with Narcissist Negotiators with Rebecca Zung. I was looking for support but I got trashed by some of the members. I was mocked for growing vegetables in the front ‘messy’ yard. My yard was a huge eye sore for my neighbour. She calls my raised garden beds coffins. She comes into my yard to ‘weed’ and mess around. Her driveway runs along beside my property but she feels she can plant little pine trees right next to my raised bed on my side. She claims she has inches beyond the driveway and she has right to access.
I am sure it all sounds very trivial and I agree. But she has thrown rocks at me because she didn’t like the way I landscape. She removes all the mulch we put around the cedars growing on our side. So we put in a little fence to keep the mulch on our cedars. She enlisted her boyfriend to pull it out. After these episodes we called the police liaison for help. They do help. It keeps her in check. Summer times are bad because we are outside more. Therefore more encounters of the ugly kind. Winters are not trouble free either. She used to shovel all the snow from her long, long driveway onto my yard. She has even thrown it over the back fence when she first moved in. I have asked her not to since I get water damage in my basement from the melting snow in the spring. She calls me crazy and talks over me. But now she can’t because of the cedar trees and raised garden beds. More reason for her hate.
You probably think I’m punishing myself reliving the shit in the retelling of the stories. Not true. The bite and sting of it are all gone. I can see that I contributed nothing to her treatment of me. I respect our boundaries. I do not tell her how to garden or landscape. I do not go onto her property to ‘weed’ or spray whereas she has done unto me. No, I cannot make peace and talk it over with her. She does not allow me to speak. She talks over me. Communication is important but in this case it is not possible. Talking with her is very dangerous for my health. The only tools I have is the police liaison and total disengagement. Once upon a time I would have found that sad. Once upon a time I thought it good to know your neighbours. Once upon a time is a beginning of a fairy tale that no longer works for me.
It is Sunday morning and cloudy it is. It was so sunny and hot only yesterday. Like the climate this new world of ours is stormy and unpredictable. I don’t like it much but it is what it is. We’ve all contributed to the making of it so let’s not cry over spilt milk. I read a wonderful quote from someone’s Instagram post this morning. I was in that peaceful space for a very short time, just before my mishap with the neighbour. I guess it was my practice run. Maybe I add add on a few seconds each day.
“How wonderful it must be to speak the language of the angels, with no words for hate and a million words for love.” ~The Angels’ Little Instruction Book
January 16, day 16 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. A lovely sunny Sunday smiled upon us today. We had our usual Sunday morning sourdough pancakes with bacon for breakfast. I thought about taking today for a day of rest. Yesterday was quite taxing. But the morning beckoned and we headed out early to the park for a ski. I graduated over to the north park this morning. It’s more interesting with hills and valleys. I’ve worked up the courage to step on its tracks again. Like the experts say. the best thing to do after a fall is to get right back on the horse again. It’s been a year since I’ve fallen on these trails. It was time.
I am much better and faster now that I got my new skis and boots. I can boogie along pretty good, that is until I met an uphill bump. I ended up on my butt on top of my skis. Getting untangled and up took some doing but I did it. Then it was going down some slopes. They’re probably not a big deal at all, but still scary for me. I managed the first one and second one. But at the end of the second one it had an incline. I should have pushed with my poles then for some speed to get over. I didn’t. I was like deer in headlights wondering what’ll I do. The next thing I knew I was down. This time getting up was much, much harder to do. The snow was very deep. I ended up taking my skis off.
I did not give up though. I went down successfully on another slope and made another loop around the park. I fell once more at the tricky upward slope. But I got up without taking my skis off. I’m still keen though. It is another challenge for me – to get over that tricky spot without falling. It is only January. I have till March to get over it.
It’s Saturday morning, September 25th. It’s sunny and warm – 17℃. I should be happy but I am quirky and irritated as hell. I am living in the moment of how it is. I had a restless sleep, waking up every couple of hours. Things creep under my skin, unwelcomed as they are. I am pissed at the ineptitude of our government, the stupidity, ignorance and selfishness of anti-maskers,anti-vacs and conspiracy theorists. How can we go from stringent restrictions for Covid to have them all lifted on July 11th? There was no easing in period to see what would happen. The outcome was quite predictable given that the variant was already in our midst and that it is much more contagious.
It is Sunday morning, September 26th. Another beautiful sunny day at 16℃. It is 20℃ in the greenhouse. It’s pretty fabulous for this time of the year. My cucumbers and bittermelons are thriving. I’ve lost count of how many and which of the little starting cukes I have pollinated. The tomatoes and peppers are still going strong. I am really surprised at all the new growth. This is my therapy room. I feel better the moment I step into it.
I am feeling a tiny bit more cheerful, having gone to bed super early last night. I had a good sleep the first 3 hours. Then it was awake every 2 hours. It’s like my body was on alert, waiting for something to happen. I’m not fretting over it. It is what it is. My kitchen drain is still not free flowing. I will give it till after the weekend and the bottle of enzyme is finished. A professional plumber might be in order. Somethings you can’t be stubborn about.
The other day I noticed how difficult it was for me to focus. I had trouble even looking at a flyer. I see the pictures but the information was not travelling to my brain. I’m buggered! I need to get my mind back. This time I am working on not going down the same old paths. They haven’t been too successful. I’m resisting looking for and reading another self-help book/video. What I need is action and practice. What do I need to do? What is my next step? What comes to mind is first is:
I think that these two things are enough for me to work on and chart on for this week. I will get better results if I am mindful and not overburdened. These last two mornings I am mindful, noticing that it doesn’t take any more time or energy if I put things back neatly where they belong instead of just tossing them to wherever. In fact it saves time and energy. A light bulb moment. I am a slow learner!
Sunday morning. It’s cool, cloudy and snowing. It’s 1℃ outside and 8.4℃ in the greenhouse at 10:00. No promise of sun but I took some of the covers off the plants and seedlings so they can get some natural day light at least. We’re going to run some electric heat in there today for the next few days of no sunlight. The greenhouse will not have a chance of getting heated enough during the day to sustain the frosty nights. I have too many growing things and work invested in there to lose now.
I’m trying to maintain the flow. I’ve worked hard to start it. Maintenance takes less energy than having to start over. If I can get up, dress up and show up, that’s half the battle. I have to remember I am not my emotions. I have to set my intentions for the day, make a list and do it. I don’t have to like it. I just need to make it a habit. Liking can come later.
It is Sunday afternoon. No sun but the greenhouse did get up to a high of 15.9℃ at 1:30pm. Now at 3:30 it is on the decline. I’ve become a weather/temperature watcher this spring. I’m paying more attention and seeing how erratic our present day climate is. I’m also more aware of my inner climate. It’s helping me understand and manage my anxiety better. I can feel how powerful and negative my inner dialogue can be. I’m trying to change my thoughts to change my life.
Though I have many bad habits, I have established some good routines and habits these last few years. I fall off the wagon occasionally but I do climb back on. I always try and give a damn. It’s hard for me to give up. These are my main powerful medicines. They keep me afloat and flowing.
It’s Sunday morning coming down again. Sundays always remind me of Kris Kristofferson’s song and days of my youth. I’ve never had those kind of mornings, not that I could remember anyways. Wait, there was a time way back in my first year of university. It was on my roommate’s birthday. We decided to celebrate everyone’s birthday. She got hold of a 26 of something and we caught the bus downtown to see the movie, The Best House in London. It really didn’t take too much to put me in a whooze. I don’t remember a thing about the movie. We had to leave as I was feeling sick. We caught the bus back to our boarding house. By then I was feeling better but my roommate had passed out. The bus driver and a guy from my history class carried her off and set her under a tree in front.
A sunnywindy and cooler morning. It was -1℃ when I got up at 6:30. It was about 6.8℃ in the greenhouse. It has warmed to 0 and 9.5℃ respectively. It is a little after 10 am. I won’t uncover things yet. I’m hoping that I haven’t overwatered my seedings yesterday. They might rot instead of sprout. That’s what happens when you watched or read too much about how to seed. I get mixed up. When things are working well enough, leave them alone.
I’ve been paying attention to my talk/tap, my gripe on my chaos and disorganization. I’ve talked about all that forever and a day but have I done anything about it? I have a bit here and there. Then I fall off the wagon and seldom get back on. I did climb back this morning. Now, I have to climb back as soon as I fall off. Failures like everything else can get addictive. I am an addictive person. I have to pay attention that I don’t get hooked. Too much of a good/bad thing is not good for me.
I think I have been waiting for this moment all my life, when the whole wide world ceases its constant striving for more stuff and power. I am centered down to what is truly essential to the survival of our body and soul. I sift through the debris of what was normal and life before the virus to find the jewels worth keeping. At long last, I don’t have to shout above the din to be heard. You have time to listen now. I only have to whisper. I am right here facing you, looking into your eyes. You cannot turn away now, to cast your eyes around to some other place, another face, some other eyes. If you do, I will leave.
Those are the words and feelings evoked by Lynn Ungar’s poem Pandemic. That’s all for this pandemic Sunday.
onethousandandtwo 