On Hiatus

This is my 1249th post!
I'll be on blog hiatus for several weeks.
My desk is piled so high with papers I now have to look over them to see the bottom of the computer screen. Hopefully in the next few weeks I will find my desk top.

See you in my 1250th post August 14th!


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Grateful

"I should be like Jillian and tell you to suck it up."

Dearest one is helping me get through my Ten Minute Workout by keeping track of the stopwatch. Meanwhile I am belly aching about my thighs being on fire and I've only been doing the first pose for day one for 30 seconds.

I've been looking for something I could do on work days that wouldn't take a lot of time and would get my exercise in. My parents are both on diabetic meds and I don't want to follow in their footsteps. If I exercise every day it seems to help my blood sugar levels stay within normal range. The first day I miss they start going up. I only have one kidney and as diabetes is not a kidney friendly disease I am determined to keep one step ahead of it. Exercise is not the whole answer but part of it. Among other things, eating too much of certain fruits seems to affect my blood sugar levels, too. I do like cherry season but it doesn't like me!

I've been trying to figure out a morning schedule that will work for me once I start back to work next month. Getting up at 5 AM used to work fine. Then the time change happened this past spring and I just couldn't seem to get rested enough to get up that early. I'm determined to get up at 5 AM for several weeks before I go back to work and fine tune my schedule. Cutting down my exercise time on work days makes room for writing and centering prayer; two things important to my well being.

This morning I went for a walk and remembered the days when going for a walk, fine tuning a schedule or considering a work out regime were out of the question for me. I was instantly filled with gratitude. Yesterday, as I was painting our bathroom I caught myself with the brush above my head and was grateful I could do it. There was a time when lifting my arms above my head to shampoo my hair was the sum total of my ability to exert energy some days.

I am ever so grateful when I have some perspective.
Today is one of those days.


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Quotable

Best line I've heard misread at an AA meeting:

"Probably no human power could have revealed our alcoholism."

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It's All Connected

The rotten floor led to new flooring and new vanity, lights, cupboard and mirror.

We both were relieved when the actual rotten part was considerably smaller than it could have been.

Dearest one and I have lived in rented houses most of our married life.
This is our first ever remodelling project in our very own home.
I feel totally spoiled.



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The Leg Bone's Connected To The.....

It's been a full week. Only daughter was here looking after our place while we were gone and then stayed a few extra days to visit. I got very teary after saying goodbye to her at the airport. It's been a wonderful week.

There has been so much sunshine these past few weeks that I asked myself today if I was a little bit off kilter for being continually grateful for sunshine. Because I am. I can't seem to get enough of it. On second thought that's a little like being too grateful for life itself. That's impossible. I'll continue to be grateful for the sunshine. No questions asked.

Tomorrow will come a dose of daily reality. Back to dishes and housework and writing. I look forward to the routine.

Dearest one will fix the leaky toilet. We hope it hasn't rotted the floor to kingdom come by now. We discovered the leak just before we left on holidays. We know we need to replace this 40 year old trailer we call home but we hope we still have a few years yet to do so. It may be a toilet that decides our fate. You know that ditty about the leg bone connected to the hip bone and so on? Well the floor beneath the toilet is connected to a whole lot of other floors. And walls.

Last night we welcomed friends over for the evening. We sat around the camp fire and the 6 of us laughed and talked and hashed out life as it is. I am so grateful for friends with whom I can be gut honest with and who will journey with me no matter what. We've been meeting in one another's homes on a weekly basis for 10 years now. I hope to grow old with them.

We always end our evenings together with prayer. I don't like praying out loud among other people. It's just not my thing. I can't seem to get my ego out of the way and so I stay silent. It feels like the most honest thing I can do. I rarely feel like I'm talking to God in those situations. Mostly I feel like I'm trying to impress someone. If I were to talk to God in front of others like I do on my own, well, it just seems too private of a conversation. So I don't. There are other situations and times though, when it seems the exact right thing to do, to pray with someone and so I do. I don't even know why I'm talking about this here. I feel like I'm the only Christian who has an aversion to praying aloud with others.

At an AA meeting once we had someone from the US there and we all got fouled up on the Lord's Prayer at the end of the meeting. Afterwards he informed us that we Canadians didn't have the right rhythm when we prayed it. So of course I'm as curious as anything about that. As it is now there is one guy who is often at my home group and I have to block his voice out when we pray because I lose my place. What a funny thing to do, have private pissing contests as to who is praying the Lord's Prayer right.

Lord have mercy on us all.



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Stinkin' Thinkin'

It is good to be home.
It took a while to get here.
On the third leg of our journey
the plane turned around 10 minutes into the flight because of mechanical problems.
As I listened to people complain
all I could think of was
that we were alive to bitch about it.
(So quit yer bitchin' people.)

As I sat waiting for our luggage to start
making its way around the carousel I watched
people reunite.
Tears lurked around the corners of my eyes
several times as I saw people so happy
to see each other.
Everybody needs somebody to miss them.

****

Dearest one and I walked miles upon miles
along the sea shore. To see mountains and ocean
in one view was incredible.

One day I left dearest one on the beach
and went back to our hotel room to get ready
to walk to an AA meeting. The cleaning lady
was in the midst of cleaning our room
but I really needed to go pee.

If I had any doubts that I needed a meeting
they disappeared as I went to yank some
toilet paper off the roll and the whole thing
went flying across the room.
My very first thought was that
the cleaning lady was being passive aggressive
and had positioned that roll just so
it would go flying when I yanked on it.

I know. Total insanity.

How grateful I am that there is a place
I can go and tell that story
and people nod in agreement
because their thinking
is just as fucked up some days.



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Tiggerin'

"It's okay, I'm not passing judgement on you."

I don't know if I'm saying it more for her benefit or mine although I do know I mean it. Saying those words I needed to hear when I was her age but never did. Never heard or saw it in action, either. Still don't. I've accepted that to expect attitudes and actions from people unable to deliver them is crazy making. I don't long for it like I once did. Eventually I learned to give it to myself and there have been a host of people who have modeled it for me until I was able to receive it.

In any case I say it upfront and it feels good to do so. Part of me thinks that if I'd really evolved I wouldn't have to say it at all except only daughter and I both know I have too many years of judgemental attitudes under my belt for that to be the case. She moved away from home while I was still majoring heavily on passing judgement and spouting opinions without much of a valve on my mouth.

Only daughter is here to house/Pug sit for us while we fly away on an airplane this week. She has her own cute little puppy who is in the house training stage. That puppy bounces on her feet like Tigger. What energy.

When I was only daughter's age I had three preschoolers and I put all my energy when I was visiting my mom into gaining approval and avoiding disapproval. The only problem was that I couldn't read my mom's mind but I sure thought I could read both her mind and body language. After all, I had had 25 years of practice already. And it was all about me. She frowned? It was something I did. She showed any hint of exasperation? It was my fault. This went on for the whole time my kids were growing up.

I was 38 when I stopped looking to my Mom for the lowdown on how I was doing as a parent. It only came after a nervous breakdown and a pain filled year where I cried an awful lot. I would never sign up to go through that kind of pain again. I would never trade the growth either.

I can't speak for my daughter although I doubt that hers has been any less painful of a journey to individuation. I do see her as miles ahead of where I was at her age. I don't hold myself in judgement over that either. It is what it is.

I am grateful for the open communication we can have about this stuff though. It's not all serious either.(Rule 62) When I asked her to come read this before I posted it I told her that I had written and deleted a sentence about how having a puppy is like having kids. Don't gasp, it is. She then said at least with a puppy she didn't have to feel bad about putting it in its pen and walking away when she'd had enough and how it wasn't going to end up in puppy therapy years down the road because of it.

Thank God puppies don't pass judgement on us either.(Adds only daughter.)



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Trippin'

In a few sleeps dearest one and I will hop on a plane and go for a bit of a holiday.I'm grateful our idea of holidays mesh.A remote cabin on a beach being ideal. Going where we know no on is a must.

Last night we sat around a campfire
with many of dearest one's siblings.
The women gathered in a circle together,
the men in another.

When the women found out where we were going they had all kinds of advice as to where we should go and what we should see. I sat there and wondered if dearest one would be interested. I didn't tell them that touristy things don't appeal to me much. I would make a scowly tourist on one of those bus tours. I just want to be left to meander on my own.

This morning when I listed off all the "must sees" of the group to dearest one he looked a little horrified. He then told me all he wanted was to relax and have fun. He didn't want to trade one kind of busy for another.
I was relieved.



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Perfect Timing

Someone from my AA home group is in San Antonio. It was very hard not to ask her to walk around with a placard, shouting out for Mary Christine and Pammie and a score of other bloggers. But you never know, maybe their paths will cross anyway.

A few weeks ago I went to a work related event full of hundreds of fellow employees. Most of my work communication is done by email or phone and I never meet these people face to face. I always like putting a face and name together. Dearest one was scrolling through my work site and recognized a name. Sure enough, when I contacted the person the next time, someone I email regularly, I asked if so and so was her dad. What followed was a flurry of emails about her dad, who passed away 20 years ago and memories of dearest one and I spending a lot of time with her very young sisters when we were newlyweds.

So the morning of the big work related to do I told God, "It's up to you if she and I are going to meet. I won't be able to find her in the crowd." I signed into the meeting and slapped my name tag onto my shirt. My vision is getting worse and I'm sure at my next checkup I'm going to go from wearing reading glasses to bifocals. I resisted the urge to squint at every name tag on every woman I thought might be her. Eventually I forgot about my email contact altogether.

Her eyesight is better than mine. Part way through the day I mosied along a hallway looking for a certain conference room. She was standing right outside it and recognized me from my name tag just as I was going to walk past her. Although she wasn't wearing her name tag I knew it was her instantly. As we hugged and talked I thanked God for doing His thing.


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Feeling Angry And Sad

There are two Pugs who will howl unabashedly when dearest one comes home tonight. One little Pug has had to be carried to bed lest he look out the window all night in hopes of dearest one coming home.

Yesterday morning I watched a doe and her two bambis, complete with spots, walk tentatively across the lawn. Later in the day a bird stopped atop a fence post and serenaded me. That was a nice antidote to the dead mouse I had to deal with earlier in the day.

Today housework and writing will fill my waking hours. Every morning I wake up thinking about the family member who committed suicide last week and how he is missing out on this brand new day. I feel angry and sad both. It's been 30+ years since I've had a suicidal feeling. I've done a lot of reading online the past week about suicide and this post has helped.

I think any time there is a death it brings to the surface all the unhealed grief within me. In all selfishness I hope I don't have to buy any more sympathy cards for a while.


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Dealin'

When my kids were little I worked hard not show fear of any spiders, bugs and all things creepy crawly, including hamsters. That came about because of a memory of a neighbour when I was a kid, who had to come to our house until her husband got home, because Barn Swallows had built a nest above her front door and she was terrified of them when they came swooping down at her. She had three kids who took in her every fear.

So when I had my own kids, I took a deep breath and pretended that that Daddy Long Legs crawling on my hand was my new best friend. Lord knows I was screaming my head off inside myself. Did you ever hear that urban legend as a kid about the woman who never brushed her hair and a spider laid eggs in it and all those baby spiders came crawling out of her head? That story didn't help me get any less fearful. Are you scratching your hair right now? I am. But honestly? The little pitter patter of hamsters feet across my skin made me want to crawl out of my skin. I'm getting freaked out just thinking about it.

One day, when my kids were all teenagers and had proven fearless when it came to every living thing (well, except maybe for their mother) I told my daughter that no, actually I had no desire to hold her hamster and that I actually didn't like them. This after having cages of hamsters that I took great interest in. I think she still feels like I was a traitor, lier, what have you. (Do you daughter?)

Between last night and this morning we have caught 5 mice in traps on the counter. Sometimes they are still alive. Makes me shiver just thinking about it. Dearest one went on a road trip this morning to a family member's funeral so either I wait until he gets back to deal with the traps/mice or I will have to deal with them myself. I bet any one of my kids could do it without getting freaked out at all. Is this one of those things they'll thank me for later?


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A Worthwhile 10 Minutes

I found this video link through clicking links on another blog. My thoughts today have been on those who have died recently and those who are fighting to live. I love the mother's countenance especially.

Sleep Tight

It's been a long day.
I write that as a starting sentence to most of my posts
and then I delete it because I think it sounds whiny.
Tonight I don't care because I am bushed.

Last night I made myself up a list of things
to accomplish today.
Every third item was "write."
I had grand plans to get many words written today
on the second draft of my novel.
Tomorrow is the deadline for another 2500 word rewrite.

But you know, I couldn't get rid of the nagging thought
that I needed to phone my sponsor and offer to help
her with her garden today.
She has been away in city far away as her husband
gets radiation treatments for his inoperable cancer.
She stopped in last night on her way home
and it was so good to connect again.

So there I was weeding in her garden when I said to God,
"My back and dearest one's knee are going to hurt like hell
tonight because of this. Could you like, you know, make the pain go away because we're doing a good deed here."

And into my head came the thought that um, sacrifice isn't really sacrifice
if it doesn't cost you something.

Oh, right. And I chuckled to myself.
Tonight I feel a good weariness.
The kind that comes when you've done
fulfilling physical work.

I sat at the computer tonight without the foggiest idea what the next sentence in my book was going to be. I just about decided not to write at all because I was too tired to think straight. I had no idea how I was going to solve a dilemna in the story when I closed my eyes and put myself into the scene. And what should happen but one of the characters said something to another character and the dilemna was solved. I know that sounds weird. It sounds weird to me, too.

Close To His Heart

It's been a long day.
I made a three hour round trip
to see my spiritual director.
From the first time I saw him
nearly 5 years ago, he has talked
about putting together the
pieces of my puzzle, my story.

Today another piece slipped into place.
It caught me totally offguard.
Snot nosed tears gushed.
I've worked hard to keep my tears to myself
most of my life although these past 3 years
I have become more willing to honour them.

Sometimes tears catch me unaware with
the force of vomit.
Today was one of those days.

Then this evening came the news
of a suicide of one
of dearest one's relatives.
Caught us offguard.
The fourth suicide affecting
us or people we know in
the past few weeks.
This week is the anniversary
of this friend's suicide.

I am so grateful that even in this there is no need to drink.
The only way I've been able to come to terms with the suicides over the years that have affected me directly, from my granny's at age 90, to my friend Ron, to this latest suicide, is that there is no understanding the why of it. It just is.

As I was in my spiritual director's office today I happened to glance at a paper on the floor beside my chair whose title stated something to the effect that God holds the souls of those who commit suicide close to his heart.

Amen.

Twelve years already.

Hello World

I've been listening to this song on the way to work every day these past few weeks. I get like that sometimes. A song gets stuck in my head and it's on repeat for a very long time. I can hear my family groan at the familiarity of that habit of mine. This morning I had a moment when I was overcome with awe at creation and how we are both created by the Creator. I had to swallow back the tears as I was pulling into my parking spot at work.



I'm on the home stretch as far as work goes. Another day in the office and then I'm done for the summer. I am ready for a break. I've been reflecting on my attitudes/actions at work this week as I drive. So much room for improvement. I sure can have an attitude in a heart beat. I'm trying to remember that a bad attitude does not make me a bad person. I am grateful for the grace to look inward and upward.

Crazy Shit

I was driving to town yesterday feeling incredible gratitude for this beautiful summer convinced I've never appreciated it like I do this year. The thought flitted through my head that such gratitude and awareness must mean this will be my last summer. That's how my brain works.

I know.
Crazy shit.

This morning as I was watering my flowers (aren't they pretty?) I was thinking about that again and realized it was just a different take on that belief which drives me crazy ~ that life is so good, too good, so it must surely come crashing down soon. Whenever I hear other people talk like that I run around in circles in my head screeching NO at the top of my lungs. It's shitty theology to believe that God will surely heap misery on their heads because they're enjoying life as it is. It was a good come uppance to realize I still think like that, too. It had just shape shifted a bit so I couldn't recognize it as easily.

So I'm going to enjoy my flowers and the summer and leave it at that. There are people close to me fighting for their lives this summer that I am hyper aware of the gift of life and shitty theology. I am so grateful that AA teaches God is a loving God.

I chaired a business meeting yesterday and watched as it triggered my need-to-keep-everyone-happy button. I didn't realize it was still so present and willing to take front and center stage. Someone seemed offended at a group decision and shut down instantly. So instantly that they never said another word all meeting nor in the meeting after that. When they left as soon as we were done saying the Lord's prayer I had to stifle the urge to run after them and try to make it okay. I wanted to take responsibility for their shutting down. The anxiety I felt at not making it all better escalated somewhat and I had to really work at letting go of it and keeping to my side of the street. Chairing business meetings is not my favourite thing to do. I realized yesterday that I consider I've done a good job only if there is no conflict.

I know.
Crazy Shit.

It is a gift that we keep getting opportunities to recognize crazy shit. And hopefully the pile of it gets smaller every time the same shit appears on my radar screen. Once I told Fr. Charlie that it seemed like I kept dealing with the same shit different pile and he told me that I was further along on the journey and seeing it from a different perspective now. At that time I thought the goal was to eliminate crazy shit altogether.

I sat here this morning and enjoyed my breakfast while listening to a chorus of song birds greet the day. When I went to sleep last night after midnight there were still remnants of the setting sun filtering through the trees. Now that is not crazy shit. To me it's a piece of heaven.

Flippin'

"Is having a drink going to change anything or will it all still be the same tomorrow when I wake up?"
That was the question I asked myself in a dream last night.

I can't remember the last time I had a drinking dream but in this one I had 20 containers that looked like miniature oil lamp vials you see in restaurant center pieces. They were filled with vodka which I have no idea how it tastes. Once my sister and I found my mom's vodka stash under her bathroom sink and poured most of it down the drain and filled the bottle back up with water. I bet that pissed her off the next time she took a drink. It may be why vodka held no interest for me.

There was no one in my dream who cared I was going to blow my sobriety except me.
And once that question at the top of this post went through my head I put the vodka down without taking a sip, and shoved the tray away that held all the rest, too.

Dreams are so weird.

*********

It is beautiful and sunny here today.
I am looking forward to mowing grass and doing some writing.
My instructor says my novel has great potential to be saleable.
I am loving and hating writing it
as it has taken on a life of its own
that I feel I have no control over.
It's totally pointless to tell a character
"Hey, get back over here right now and do as I say!"
My main character may be living in 1912
but she still knows how to flip me the bird.

***********

By the end of the summer all my adult children will most likely
be living in towns far away. I feel sad about that although I
am happy they are making their own lives and are functioning
as fully independent adults. I never realized that was the goal
while I was raising them. Not kidding. It didn't occur to me.

I am grateful that I have learned that life after kids means
living my own life to the fullest.
I didn't manage to learn that until after they were grown.
Bafore that I was too busy telling them
to get back over here right now and do as I say.

There was a point when it would have served us both well
if they would have flipped me the bird.
It took me until I was 38 years old
to individuate from my mother.
I am grateful they have started that journey
far sooner than I did.

The Little Things

Some days I think there is just too much sadness in this world.
I feel like bad news is piling up,
bad news of all kinds of people's lives.
Unexpected illnesses and deaths especially.
I feel like ripping off the grip of death
and it makes me feel so powerless to not
be able to do a thing to change the outcome.

That kind of thing puts life into perspective for me instantly.
Like a jolt of caffeine it makes me wake up and take notice of the little things.

There is one flower in bloom on my Evening Scented Stocks. I pick up the container every time I walk by it and inhale as deeply as I can. It smells heavenly. In short order there will be dozens of blooms as you come up my walkway. Smelling its perfume is like having your senses serenaded. That one little bloom makes me feel like all is right in the world even when it isn't.

At The Crack Of Dawn

It looks like morning at 4 AM here now.
We've had two yearling deer meandering around the yard in the early morning.
They step tentatively, ready to flee at any moment.
It must take a lot of energy to live in such a state.

I am not at all ready for work this morning.
We're into the home stretch before summer holidays start.
It's difficult to get motivated
when you're counting the days to an 8 week break.
I know, oh poor me.
Suck it up already.
What a gift to get such a long time off.
Even without a paycheck.
I know that.

I've been plugging along at my novel,
rewriting it in First Person.
Every time I submit an assignment I receive
increasing hope that I really can do this.
I've let go of having a manuscript ready for
the end of August to send to a publishing house
that still takes complete manuscripts.
I have hopes that mine won't end up in the slush pile.
I have a 35 year old bet with my younger brother
to have a book published by the time I hit the
big 5-0. I have two years to see my name on the cover of a book.
I have mulled over big time how I will feel
if I lose the bet.
Dearest one tells me it will be an exercise
in wishing I had started earlier.
Yep.

I have spent much of my life stepping tentatively
just like those yearling deer do in my yard every morning.
Somewhere along the way I lost my need to do that
and I am grateful.

Opportunities

Summer seems like such a miracle.
I can't remember being so thankful
for sunshine and warm weather.
Chances are I was last year
but it seems impossible.

I wrote the above this morning
and then got on with my day.
Today was my birthday.
It didn't feel like it
which is weird
but it didn't.

I went to my home group meeting this morning.
I very clearly heard, or at least think I did,
from my HP this past week,
"You need to listen more (in meetings)."
For all I know I imagined I heard that
but it did come out of the blue when I was talking to God
about me in meetings and some troubling things
about myself that I see in relation to all that.
So I didn't call attention to the fact that it was my birthday
although someone in my home group gave me a birthday card
which was nice.

I spent the afternoon at a graduation.
As the sole support staff for this little school
I sat with all the teachers.
When I saw they were going to give out thank you gifts
I was confronted once again with my feelings of insecurity
around stuff like this. That I will be forgotten. It's an
insecurity that has its roots in my toddlerhood,
an incident that obviously still affects me.
One Christmas at my grandparents.
My older brother and my cousin are
running around the livingroom with new cowboy hats
and shiny new toy guns complete with holsters.
I tug on my brother's pant leg and ask where my gift is.
He stops firing off his gun long enough to tell me
I'm too small to get a gift.
I feel invisible.

This afternoon I worked through in a few minutes,
how I would feel if the students
had only bought gifts for the teachers.
I decided I wouldn't take it personally.
I asked myself if I would be okay and the answer was yes.
And before the teachers went up to receive their gifts
I reframed the whole situation as a gift from my HP
to work through this issue again.
I'm grateful I didn't freeze with panic.
That I was able to separate out today
from that day long ago despite the old feelings surfacing.

I wanted to tell one of my coworkers
that today was my birthday
but I recognized that this day,
the reason we were all gathered,
was for the graduates.
That if I mentioned it
she would get the whole crowd
to sing happy birthday to me
and I knew instinctively
that I needed to let this day
have its proper focus.

That was hard to do.
But, by the grace of God, I did it.

Those two things, the gift issue and the birthday one
might seem like little things
to some people.
But to me,
it's huge growth for me to sort and filter
and not let my ego run the show.
I know I'm not alone in this.
That most likely all of you struggle with ego, too.

I stopped at my sponsor's house on the way home.
Her partner is seriously ill with inoperable cancer
so I hadn't said anything to her about my birthday.
When she noticed my new silver crucifix necklace
I did tell her it was a birthday gift.
Stopping by to see her was my gift to myself today.
I usually do that every year. Do something for myself
that is a gift. We spent an hour together in a comforting
conversation. There is part of me that doesn't
want to walk with her through this time of her life.
It's too hard.
I also recognize it for the sacredness that it holds.

As we walked to my car she took my hand and
we walked hand in hand for a while.
I felt like a little girl
holding hands with one of my best friends.
It was very precious to me.
I know of no other woman I could be okay
to do that with.
Sometimes those little gestures
say so much.