MORNINGS ARE THE BEST

Good morning to you on another beautiful sunny day in November. It is almost noon. The soup is cooking in the Instant Pot. We’ve just come back from our walk and a little shopping at the Chinese grocery store – Market of Asia. Right across from MOA is another Chinese grocer, Great Asian Market (GAM). These are just 2 of the many Asian options for us. What a change since my first days in Canada! Back in those days my parents had to order Chinese supplies from Vancouver. It’s great that we live in the middle of everything, within walking distance. It gives us a destination and a purpose now that we don’t have Sheba to walk with us.

Mornings are my best times for everything. For not being a morning person most of my life, I can’t wait to get out of bed nowadays. Most mornings you will find me up between 6 and 7. I like those early hours. They are so peaceful. I would sit for 20 minutes in meditation with a cuppa tea listening to Mark Williams online. YouTube is a wonderful learning and inspiration center. I’m grateful to the generous people who so willingly share their videos. They give me such a boost to start the day. After my meditation I watch a little video on gardening, regenerative soil managing, permaculture or alternative living. Lately I’ve been entralled with tiny houses and sustainable living. I saw this tiny house video the other morning. It is about the size of my sunroom.

When I was much younger, way back, it seems like I could not have enough space. My sunroom was an add-on and so was the deck. I’m thinking and feeling different these days. I’m thinking it would be an adventure to live tiny. It is rather ironic don’t you think? My start in Canada was tiny. We lived above the cafe in 2 adjoining bedrooms. The other rooms were occupied by my dad’s cousin(business partner), his wife and nephew. I can’t remember how long we lived upstairs until grumblings started about too many of us. So we moved when my mother was pregnant with my brother.

We rented a tiny house behind the cafe. It had 2 rooms, a kitchen a and bedroom. The outhouse and coal bin were just out the back door. The linoleum on the kitchen floor was peeling. In the kitchen there was a potbelly stove and a table by the window facing the street. There was room for a hide-a-bed couch for me and a fridge in the corner. My father hammered together a not so perfect chest of drawers. He still slept in the cafe, having to get up early to open for the day. The cafe closed only on Sundays.

I feel like I am still telling old stories but in telling, I see the irony of where my heart desires are today. I desire not hardship, but challenges and reasons to be. I desire the less of things and more of quality life, of caring of the people in and outside of our life and caring of our planet.

Mornings are my best times. It is when I am more clear minded and have more energy and focus. It is late evening now and I am rambling. It would have been better if I could have finished my words in the morning. But I didn’t. So ends this 8th day for the Ultimate Blog Challenge.

STILL SINGING MY OLD SONGS

It’s another Saturday morning. In my previous life, I think of my weekly morning swim. In this life, I think it is the day that Sheba’s left. Today it is 6 weeks. It’s short and long at the same time. I’ve had her for almost 14 years. Those years seemed to have gone in split second. I feel as if I’m left with nothing. I know it is probably part of the grieving process. Knowing things will get better does not make it easier. It is what it is.

Life truly can be difficult even in ordinary times. Now that there is no more ordinary or normal, bad neighbours add a heavy load to the challenge. I am coping as best as I can. I’m here breathing in and out, tapping out the stress on my keyboard. I had such hope of getting back my focus each day but I keep getting these curve balls. They’re fast and wicked, catching me off guard and unprepared. I should have known better. I didn’t. Now I’m working on recovering.

I’m still missing Sheba. I’m still irritated with the neighbour but I am not mad. I am obsessed with occupying my own space with confidence and not allowing her to bully me. She is not taking it kindly. I don’t know how successful I am. I am working on remaining calm and not reacting. I try to be smarter and keep silent but sometimes you can only take so much. So here is what happened yesterday morning. I was checking to see that she had not scraped away the ground covers I had planted. She ducked behind her plants and started talking at me. For once I’ve caught her on video and uploaded it on YouTube.

I hesitated and hesitated on putting it out there today but I did. I could not get on with my day otherwise. It must be why an abused woman who stays with her abuser. I was afraid that it would make me look bad, that no one would believe me, and that I’m really the one whose causing all the trouble. It was a light bulb moment. If you allow someone to bully you long enough, you start to believe that it IS all your fault. Bullies, narcissist, pyschopaths have amazing skills in lying and turning everything around on their victims.

I am a little afraid of her but I will stand my ground. I am fed up. I will not take it any more. I am not happy I’m losing sleep, giving her my time and energy. It is what it is. Now that I’ve tapped out these words, I feel lighter and tired. Now maybe I can go back to bed and sleep.