I’m on my second cup of tea, awaiting the snow storm. Perhaps it is a little early yet but the sky is steely grey. The sun is trying, a brisk breeze is stirring up the beautiful dead growth on the living roof of the shed. I flunked all 6 tries on Wordle. Now to make something of the day. Some days are easier than others. I’m hitting the not easier days. That’s how the cookie crumbles.
I know that this, too, will pass but what can I do in the meantime? There are many things that I could do. I just don’t feel like doing them. I don’t feel motivated, excited. Nothing grabs me. Nothing is wrong but everything feels bland and grey like cold, dirty dishwater and today’s sky. I guess I can pout and have a tantrum but what will that do? I can also do nothing and become more sodden. I’m sure that will lead to more boredom and misery. Better that I do a Suck it up, Buttercup and go through the motions -even if I don’t feel like it. That’s the penalty of being an adult.
I find it helpful to ask myself How does it feel? now and again. It is a good way of working through and out of my stresses and blahs. I’m not feeling so grey now, finding a hook to hang on to. It’s soothing tapping on the keys, making words and sentences. It builds me up as I find ways out of my blandness. I don’t need to hurry. I can take time, linger and savour these moments sitting here. It is rewarding to work and find a purpose, a reason to be.
This morning we went and got our fourth Covid vaccine. It was something we could do to help maintain our health. We made a couple of stops on the way home. One was to a mall to mail some letters and to buy mousse for my hair. I made a trip to the washroom while I was at it. It has been a long time, 2 years since I made a walk through the mall. I couldn’t remember where things were, having to follow the signs at first. There’s much change. Seems a bit silly but I was so happy to see the food court. The washrooms were just a hallway down. A flood of memories came rushing back – coffee with my mom and dad at the mall after our visits to the library. Such simple things can make me happy.
Our second stop was the library to return read books for different ones. It is snowing and the wind is howling. I am hunkered down snug as a bug with books to read, drawings to be drawn and splashed with paint. Oh, I have Hong Kong milk tea and barbecued pork buns from the Chinese store for treats. I am at ease. I am no longer stressed or feeling bland. Perhaps I was feeling the approach of the storm. I am such a weather vane.
No two days and mornings are the same. I’m not the same any two days. I want to be full of vim and vinegar every day. I want to bounce out of bed every morning with joie de vivre. It’s not that I got out on the wrong side this morning. Not at all. I felt quite alright but then felt stuck after breakfast. I was very annoyed but somehow there was no flow. I felt the stagnancy and meaningless of things. Is it a by product of Covid-19? I’m tired of all the related news of numbers, cases, deaths, vaccines, anti-maskers, conspiracy theories. Round and round in endless circles.
Forgive me. I am just ranting, letting off steam. My brain got into a glitch. It got a little derailed. I was thinking too much. Nothing and everything changes at the same time. I wonder why that is. Enough thinking already. When there is no flow, I have to work to create it. Instead of sinking into despondency, I can make a gratitude list. Instead of thinking of what I don’t have, I can think of what I have. I can make a list of what I have done instead of feeling lazy and useless. I can fill my bucket with happy thoughts and moments. I can change my thoughts, therefore my feelings.
I can make it simple. It doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s a practice of pushing forward and onward for this 4th day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge.
It is another morning in this new ‘life will never be the same again’. Yet it comes and goes with the rising and setting of the sun – as usual. We still need the air we breathe and the sun on our skin. Have we taken them, and everything else on this breathing planet, too much for granted? Now we go to sleep and wake up in trepidation of the air we breathe and things we touch. We look at each other with suspicion. We keep 6 feet apart. We mask. We wash and wash our hands and everything we touch. It is not life as usual.
I wonder how to proceed each day, how not to dwell in the well of this nervous energy and uncertainty. If there ever is a perfect time for a makeover, I think it is now. We have this time of no distraction from the outside world. We are locked in with just ourselves. It can be discomforting. I am, at times, uncomfortable and alarmed with just my thoughts and voice. I cannot sit in silent meditation. I still need the soothing recorded voice of Mark Williams to guide me.
I tell myself it is all right. I can try again in silence another morning when I am feeling stronger. I don’t have to be a hero. I don’t have to be Wonder Woman. In this time I can just be, to explore, test, sample, sift through feelings and thoughts, decide what is valuable, what is not, to keep or toss. It is, of course, a bit disconcerting, somewhat like being tossed about on a stormy sea on a raft. There are no boundaries, no safety net, no known territory. I have to re-think, re-see with new thoughts and new eyes. How do I live in this new world now? Do I sink, just tread water or will I learn new skills of survival?
I’ve been sinking and treading water forever and a day now. I’m tired of just keeping my head above water. I want to survive, thrive and feel the joy that is supposed to be mine. I would like that without having to ‘work’ so hard at it all the time. Perhaps that’s asking for alot. Perhaps the joy comes from the work. Perhaps I already have the joy. Perhaps I have to explore and redefine joy.
It’s a wintery snow falling on cedars kind of a day. It’s a good day to snuggle up with a hot cuppa. If only Sheba would cooperate, be quiet and snuggle on her bed. No such luck, of course. Come any time after 2 pm, she’s a fussing for food and her walk. It’s early but she likes to push the clock. I’m giving her the silent treatment. So far, so good. Keep my fingers and toes crossed. It’s hard to type that way but…
It’s easy to let a few days and my routine go. Then it gets tricky to get back on track. I’m hoping the feel and rhythm of the keys will bring my flow of thoughts and words back. If not, then I will have to WORK like Henry Miller suggests. Good advice from a great writer. I like his 11 commandments:
Work on one thing at a time until finished.
Start no more new books, add no more new material to ‘Black Spring.’
Don’t be nervous. Work calmly, joyously, recklessly on whatever is in hand.
Work according to Program and not according to mood. Stop at the appointed time!
When you can’t create you can work.
Cement a little every day, rather than add new fertilizers.
Keep human! See people, go places, drink if you feel like it.
Don’t be a draught-horse! Work with pleasure only.
Discard the Program when you feel like it—but go back to it next day. Concentrate. Narrow down. Exclude.
Forget the books you want to write. Think only of the book you are writing.
Write first and always. Painting, music, friends, cinema, all these come afterwards.
Number 10 is easy. I’m not writing or even thinking about writing a book. I’ve given up on NaNoWriMo after a few tries. Writing 50,000 words in 30 days mean I would have to cough up 1700 words a day. I’m a snapshot and punchy lines girl. I have trouble writing a 500 word post. Forget 1700 words! I can revamp and my goal for 500 words/day. See how that goes. Aim a little higher.
Good luck to me. I didn’t make 500 words today, not even with Henry Miller’s help. I’m doing Number 6 though – cementing a little every day. Better luck tomorrow.
Routines can be so tedious at times. Ugh! That is what I am feeling at this moment. I am here, nevertheless, with my morning Chai. I am feeling more myself. It’s good to be able to sleep again laying down – two nights in a row now.
I had been sleeping in my recliner, being breathless and panicky laying down. I was feeling attached to my Lazy Boy. I was afraid of letting it go, but I survived. How quickly habits and attachments set in. It reminded me of a patient I had. Her hospital stay was longer than expected. She had one complication after another. She finally went home after a lengthy stay.
She dropped by with a box of chocolates and thank you card after being home for a week. She was teary talking about being home. She was anxious and missed the side rails on her bed and having curtains around. She worried about being crazy. I reassured her that she was not. She had been so sick and having people around her, checking on her 24 hours/day for weeks. It was a natural thing to feel a bit insecure, even if her husband and children were in the house. She breathed a big sigh of relieve. It mattered to her that I understood how she felt. She left with a smile amid her tears. I was happy to be able to do that.
Yesterday was a wordless day. It was a time to catch up with family. It was time for lunch with my mother and sister. I hadn’t seen them for awhile. It was time to get reconnected. It was a time for my sister and I to give our mother some time, to listen to her stories and reminiscences.
And today is a picture-less day. It’s not a day of creativity so I worked – at paying my bills and other necessities of life. When you can’t create, you can work. I can work at putting things in order. I am tired. I am worn out. I am feeling life. This is the best I can do today. Tomorrow is another day.
I have reached a hundred the other day, a hundred posts that is! It is a big success for me. I have to reward myself and pat myself on the back.
I am tap, tapping at my keyboard. I love the rhythm of my fingers on the keys. I love the words that come out. I am writing because I love the beauty of words and ideas that flow from my finger tips. I don’t know from where they come but I welcome them.
If perchance you read some of my words, do not stress or worry if I sound melancholy or in trouble. My work environment can be very toxic and sometimes I can’t help but take some of the fumes in. And life can be ever so taxing. Tapping out words is my way of breathing and releasing the poison out. It is how I heal myself so that I can work and live again.
Words are my best friend. They hold me close with their warmth. They help me see with their clarity and they calm me down with their truth. I honour them by putting them in print. I do hope that you will stop by often and read them. I love sharing what I have learned by putting words and pictures together.
Another night is conquered and I am sitting here in the warmth and brightness of my sun room. So glad that it is over. I thought that it would never end, but somehow it did. So just let me count my blessings and appreciate my life.
You could say that I work in an unreal world. I see the best of people. I see the worst of people. It can be a very good time or it can be a very bad time. It can be full of adrenaline pumping excitement or it can be a tedious grind. Such is my life as a nurse. Some days /nights are wonderful. Everyone works in sync with each other. We are like a fine orchestra, each with our parts to be played…different but equally important parts.
Of course, there are times when everyone is out of tune. There is no harmony, no melody to be played. There are just fractured segments. Everyone pays. Those are the times I like to forget. But those can be valuable times of learning. We can learn to rewrite our parts so that we can all hum along. I fret over those times too much sometimes. How can I change? What can I do?
For all we talk about getting to know ourselves and each other and living the authentic life, it is a bit difficult. It is a lot difficult. Best to just focus on the moment and do the best I can. So I am feeling rushed for time. I am breathless looking at the shift before me. The call bells are ringing. I have to do this. I have to do that. Oh, my God, how can I possibly?!!
I paused and took a breath. I deleted the pictures in my head. I put one foot in front of the other, answered one call bell at a time, emptied one bedpan at a time, checked this, checked that, consulted and cooperated with my teammate….I did the best I could. Sometimes my best came with a touch of grouchiness, but I still made some of my patients laugh. They still thanked me. They are generous. The night passed.
And I AM here. The words are falling from my fingertips. I am feeling at ease with myself and the universe. And the sun is streaming through the window. Soon I will go to bed. I am happy.