a little January whine
I lost the will to write. As I look around my house, I apparently also lost the will to do housework. Things are piling up around here, especially my insecurities but that’s O.K. they often drop by. Sometimes they are disguised as past mistakes that every once in awhile will find the need to tap me on the shoulder and say, “hi remember me?”
“Yes, very much so. Now please go away.”
Not that I made a ton of past mistakes. I think I am on par with the average person. No one has perfect judgment 100% of the time but out of the blue these mistakes will come visiting just to make me cringe again, over something I did five or twenty years ago. It is all rather silly but still some days they are hard to shoo away and they make me restless and edgy. I think about nursing sometimes and feel bad that I left. Not that I ever had a true passion for it but it did give me a purpose and I gained a great deal of life experiences through it.
My sister was the one who helped me decide to go into nursing. At the time I was working part time as a cashier and she was in her first year of nursing school. Her advice was – it is only two years of study, you are guaranteed a job when you get out and it pays well. Sounded good to me at the time. So, I got into the momentum of that and it pushed me along for the next ten years without too much thought on my part. I just showed up for work, did the best I could do and didn’t think too hard about if this was what I should be doing or not? When I moved to the city, I ended up working in an Intensive Care Unit for seven of those years. I am still not quite sure how that happened – it was because at the beginning when I was applying for work, these were the units that had the biggest need for nurses and one hospital had offered me a six week critical care course so I said yes, thinking to myself I rather spend six weeks in a classroom right now than jumping straight into the work force at one of these very large city hospitals. And after finishing the course I ended up staying at that hospital for almost seven years. There were days that I felt like I was in way over my head and on those days I told myself to run girl, run and never look back. But on other days it seemed like it was a great fit for me and it gave me a great sense of pride to be there. But after the girls came into our lives, I started having a problem balancing these two roles, especially with the shift work and fretting over good childcare and being sleep deprived and having no family support system here. In the end good old fashion burn out happened to me and I left nursing. I tried a few years after that to go back but only lasted four months. Greg was slightly worried about me at that point and we came extremely close to moving back east. I even had a job lined up to go back too. But it just so happened, at the same time, Greg got this great contract job which was too good to pass up and that led into another and another, so here we still are and here I sit wondering what to do with the rest of my life and feeling a little like a failure cause I couldn’t handle nursing by the end of it. These things happen when you don’t truly know what your true nature is. Now looking back I just give my head a shake – what was I doing in an intensive care unit when I was always the type of person who weighed and calculated every small mistake I ever made and deducted that sum from my self worth. So, I am not sure why I had placed myself in a job that was always dealing with life and death situations. I know I am hard on myself and that if I would simply go by work performance and past work evaluations I could still be there. Still, I lost that confidence or that momentum that had sustained me from the beginning. Once I stopped it was gone and I am finding it very hard to get going again. I love being a stay at home mom and doing the odd job here and there for Greg’s company but now I know I need to move forward. Gosh my girls are almost teens. I got to start thinking seriously what to do next.
the shed 
Books
Monica is off on a ski trip today, so I am very happy to see that our cold snap has snapped. It is sunny and mild today. She isn’t feeling all that well and had stayed home yesterday but she wanted so much to go. I hummed and hawed and then said O.K. but now I will sit and worry about her the entire day. Hope she has fun.
Greg has started reading “Collapse” by Jared Diamond. It explores past civilizations that had collapsed or failed and how we can avoid that same fate. Greg thinks it's wonderfully written. I have to start reading more non-fiction. Here I was laying next to him last night reading the second book of George R.R. Martin series A Clash of Kings. And he is telling me about Collapse and I’m thinking well my book has this huge wall at the end of the world to keep out the “Others” who can kill you with a touch but you don’t really die, you sort of just become one of the undead with purple hands and blue eyes.
Actually I like it. I find during January and February I’m always drawn to fantasy. It’s fun. Keeps me from climbing the walls. I did get quite far in Runaway but now I can’t put down this fantasy so the last few stories will have to wait. I love her stories though. There is no rhyme or reason for what I will read. I like a bit of everything. And yes, sometimes I will even judge a book by its cover.
However, I seriously lack the knowledge base that Greg has because he will only read books that will teach something. Sometimes I think I should try harder at balancing reading for pleasure with reading for learning. But first I really have to find out who gains the Iron Throne of the Seven Kingdoms.
ice on the vine
Canadian Geese
A few weekends ago we went snowboarding at a small hill not far from the city. It was a good time. Lots of fun but when I look back at it what I remember most was the Canadian Geese. As we were driving down this semi-country road we noticed several formations of them in the sky. Their formations were more like check marks than V’s but they seemed pretty purposeful in their flight pattern – all the formations seemed to be headed in the same direction.
I said to Greg, “don’t you think it is a little late for them to be migrating?”
And he responded with, “not only that they are all headed north?”
As we kept driving, I noticed this lovely, seemingly abandoned, stone bottom barn off the road a bit. The wooden part of the structure, above this grand foundation, had caved in on one side but the roof was still on and the huge door was wide open. The wood was the colour of charcoal and the snow that had drifted up against parts of the stone looked liked it had a fine thin crust to it. Just above this barn one of the check mark formations of geese had all stopped their wing movement as if on command and they just hovered in this deep January blue for a while. Their wings tilting very slightly back and forth as they steadied themselves. Then they began to land in the field just behind the barn. As we past the barn this large field finally came into view. It was a cornfield. The soft silk and kernels long gone but the tubular collars or stems were still yellow. However, they were all bent over and held down with snow but still very recognizable as corn. And between the rows of this trapped yellow there were hundreds and hundreds of geese just standing around like they were all waiting for some great leader to appear. Their sleek cheeks all held that slice of white between black and grey and I have to admit I found it a little pathetic to see them all standing there. You guys call this an exodus? What happened to Florida? You realize the Monarch butterflies are putting you guys to shame. You’ll never see them in a field of cold corn. Geez, first we lose our hockey night and now our geese won't migrate. Well, at least not these urban ones.
bare
Ipod Therapy
It’s snowing which is fine because it feels warmer. Insulation, white and drifting, laying its coat over everything. This is usually the part of the year where I begin to slide – lack of sunshine or something. What do they call it SADD’s? Seasonal affected depression or something like that? Perhaps it is just a strong wish to hibernate. I may have a bit of bear in me which makes me think again of Elle, Douglas Glover’s book which makes me smile because I thought parts of it were so hilarious.
Anyway, I wish I had some woods to walk in, , where the snow lays untouched, where I can get rid of this pressed in feeling. I keep thinking about my sister and I keep pushing it away. I can’t go there right now, I will eventually, but not today.
Not that she always leaves me off the hook this easily. A week ago I was exercising up in my bedroom ( I like to jog outdoors but only from April to November.) For now I just do this jogging/ jumping/ boxing sort of thing to the music on my ipod. I have a routine that works for me and I have a number of tunes that I do it to but this particular day I must of selected random play because I was getting these songs that I don’t usually exercise too and a lot of them were really fast, so I was working up a pretty good sweat and I guess I was starting to release a lot of pent up energy or something, letting my guard down and then this Lowest of the Low song came on – dogs of February- and suddenly a little ways into this song, it felt like these words were actually coming from my sister.
Don't you love it when it doesn't work out quite the way it was supposed to
Don't you hate it when it isn't quite, like the fairy tale that they told you
You can shut me out again. Or choose to disregard the pain
But I really wish you wouldn't
Anyway, by the time that song is finished I’m crying a little and then Van Morrison immediately starts up with In the garden – which I didn’t mind at first because I got to slow down a little but the melody and the lyrics had me bawling by the end of it.
The streets are always wet with rain
After a summer shower when I saw you standin'
In the garden in the garden wet with rain
You wiped the teardrops from your eye in sorrow
As we watched the petals fall down to the ground
And as I sat beside you I felt the
Great sadness that day in the garden
At the end of my routine I always cool down with this stretch/yoga combination and by this time I am feeling completely spent emotionally and physically and so of course The Band starts up with BoB Dylan’s song –Light come shining.
They say everything can be replaced,
Yet every distance is not near.
So i remember every face
Of every man who put me here.
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now
I shall be released.
I don’t know, at that point I didn’t feel any of it was random.
Cold Medicine
I never felt magic crazy as this
I never saw moons knew the meaning of the sea
I never held emotion in the palm of my hand
Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree
But now you're here
Brighten my northern sky.
I've been a long time that I'm waiting
Been a long that I'm blown
I've been a long time that I've wandered
Through the people I have known
Oh, if you would and you could
Straighten my new mind's eye.
Would you love me for my money
Would you love me for my head
Would you love me through the winter
Would you love me 'til I'm dead
Oh, if you would and you could
Come blow your horn on high.
I never felt magic crazy as this
I never saw moons knew the meaning of the sea
I never held emotion in the palm of my hand
Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree
But now you're here
Brighten my northern sky.
Northern Sky Nick Drake
burrr
moon landing
The Huygens probe from the Cassini satellite landed on Titian a few days ago. I think that is so phenomenal. I always had this thing for the moons in our solar system. My favourite being Jupiter’s moon Europa.
It is freezing this morning. I know I had said a few posts back that I would post less frequently but I am having a bit of trouble following through. Story of my life. Plus it is Monday and the only other thing I have to look forward to today is housecleaning. We finally watched the movie Garden State and I thought it was a great movie. A little Nick Drake in the soundtrack and everything. The CD that my daughters have been playing non-stop here over the weekend was Killers - Hot Fuss. Actually I like them too, which is nice to be able to say. I sometimes think back at the Spice Girl years and wonder how Greg and I made it through.
ravine
that's done
Yesterday, I left the house with seven of my stories, each concealed in its own brown envelope. I was hurrying a little because I had promised myself I would get them in the mail that day and I was running late and needed stamps. Having just showered, I left the house with wet hair and by the time I got to the end of my street my hair was frozen and hitting the side of my face as I walked. For some odd reason I like this feeling of having frozen hair.
I won’t go to the post office that is closest to me because I find a few of the people who work there half hateful (well maybe that is a little harsh, perhaps they are just unhappy with their work and are unable to smile anymore) and I wish to avoid that because being a little superstitious I fear some of that negativity will get transferred with my stories. So, I always walk the extra distance to the next post office. It is a bit of a jaunt but the pleasant atmosphere is worth the walk. I like walking anyway.
It was such a relief to finally let those envelops, all with their proper postage, slide into the mailbox. I get into this momentum of sending out my stuff but if I pause at all, I will end up letting them sit on my desk for another month or two. So, I am glad they are gone and that I can’t pull them back regardless if they need another rewrite or not. Whew! It is so tough to do though – makes my heart beat fast, makes me anxious – like I’m preparing to bungee jump or something. (Not that I ever bungee jumped before) I keep thinking what is your problem – it isn’t like this is high school English where the teacher comes down the row and drops your 63% book report on your desk and looks at you like you are the sole cause of her misery. These lit magazines get a lot of mail, so I know I will never be their sole cause. And you'll never know unless you try.
out of the mouth of
I was making spaghetti sauce when Monica walked into the kitchen and asked,
"Mom, can i read you my journal entry?"
"Sure, what did you write about?"
"About Buddhism."
"Really, wow, go ahead."
When she finished reading it I asked, "That is really great but when did you start reading Thich Nhat HanH? I thought Dad was reading that?"
"Well, I did read the back cover." she said with a sly smile.
"Can I put what you wrote on my blog?"
"yeah sure."
So here it is - a ten year old's thoughts on Buddhism.
BUDDISM by Monica
Most people think Buddhism is some strange religion and that's what I thought too. until I read The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching (by Thich Nhat Hanh).
The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching teaches you how to aprecite and love life, nature and all that's around you.
I haven't finished the book but so far its really good. Buddhism is something you chose too be but you can't say "I"M going too be Buddhism," one day. You have too do the religion. By doing yoga is a good start or keeping a bonzi tree or you could even light an incense stick or two. And if you are really into Buddhism you could go to the temple.
slowing down
I had promised myself I would exercise this morning and it is already 9 but I wanted to write a little first. Last night I had spent some time with my short story (the one I started in September) and it dawned on me that I hadn’t thought of or written anything the whole month of December. I didn’t even realize I had missed this pastime until I spent an hour at it last night. I felt like I actually accomplished something even if it was only a few paragraphs and a little rewriting. I like making up stuff. I always did. When I was a kid my family would call this activity I liked so much - lying! But on paper I guess it's called story telling. Add a university degree and the right grammar and I guess you can call it being a fiction writer. I’ll stick to storyteller for now. Half way there. It's the non-fiction parts of my life that I am finding troublesome to write about. I skirt around things. I have a hard time describing my reality. Well, in my journals, it is a little different because I don’t have to worry over what I say and how I say it but on this on line journal – I feel I need to keep the restraints on - I don’t want to come off some days appearing completely wacko. And a lot of my past I want to keep private and it is hard to describe where I'm at now without including other parts of my journey. So, why did I start this blog? I am beginning to question that. I thought I had so much to say at the beginning – I was full of the East Coast then and wanted to describe what I felt and I was finding such enjoyment journeying through other people’s blogs that it just seemed like a good idea to start my own. I am glad I did because if I didn’t I would never have met RN and Sam. And through RNs site I had found many other great blogs that I visit and on Whisky River’s list of blogs – oh man – so many great reads. It all becomes quite addictive after awhile though and I find I spend many moments throughout my day checking out various blogs – Did they post anything? Oh, not yet - O. K. maybe now? Or perhaps now? I feel like I'm stalking half of these people.
Anyway, I feel I should post less frequently, maybe travel the blog world less - once or twice a week instead of every day and focus more of my spare time on getting my short stories readable. I think I will use my blog for my photo’s (once I learn how not to over expose everything with this new camera) and for the things that come along that I have a strong need to share and of course if I have any luck with this story telling thing I will shout it as loud as I can.
true
I like this quote from A word a Day.
What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it.
-J.D. Salinger, writer (1919- )
the cat
The tree is gone. Decorations are back in their cardboard boxes. The bucket load of balsam needles, which were abandoned by the tree as it was dragged down the hallway and out the front door, were swept up leaving little to no trace of Christmas behind. The rain came and washed away the white, leaving a mild damp day that seemed very unwinter like. Both girls returned to school. Greg returned to work. I spent the day hanging out with the cat. She even followed me to the grocery store. I didn’t know she was but a block from home I saw a flash of tortoiseshell run across the lawn beside me. She is so dog like but not too dog like. She always keeps a fair distance so as not to look like she is actually following me. I worry about her but she is a smart cat so hopefully no harm will come to her on her daily jaunts. We got her from the pound three years ago. They did asked us if she would be an indoor or outdoor cat and they gave us all the statistics trying to convince us to keep her indoors – that the average indoor cat lives 15 to16 years and the average outdoor cat lives 3 to 4’s years. So, we tried very hard to keep her indoors but every time the dog went out she tried to follow the dog and when we would snatch her up before she could make it out the door, the look she would give us. It was like she was saying, “you’re telling me the dog gets to go outside but I can’t? Well this sucks.”
In the end her persistence to get out paid off. In the winter months she spends a lot of time with us but in the summer we hardly see her. Ms. Independence. The girls and I are very fond of her though and so is Greg and he is not a cat person.
slippery slope
2005
I woke this morning early and wanted to write something about the coming year or reflect on the past year or write about the Tsunami. How fragile things can be. How powerful things can be. The memories of 2004 will linger for a very long time and I wonder what I can take with me from the past year to help me move forward into this new one. The strongest thing I feel right now and hope so much to hang onto is how fortunate I am to be well and in the midst of love ones. To see this brand new morning and all her cold beauty, I am very thankful. When the death toll kept rising and rising over the last few days, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that here I sat unscathed, that none of that pain belonged to me, that I was so far removed from it. Guilt is a very selfish feeling and does nothing for no one. Generosity is what is important now.
We rang in the New Year with friends last night and I was happy to be there. I usually put so little effort into maintaining friendships and actually go out of my way to avoid social situations and I always defend this with “this is who I am,” but I am now beginning to see this as a flaw in my character that I need to try to correct. How can I grow if I don’t reach out, embrace others, learn from others, accept others? I will try harder this year.
Most of all I just want to appreciate the choices I had made and the ones I will make and not let fear have any sway in these choices.
May 2005 be gentle to our world.
