Category Archives: musings

A little water goes a long way

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“It takes a long time to grow an old friend.” ~ John Leonard

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 There is something inherently great about spending time with someone who just gets you.  You never feel the need to have to defend your point of view and you feel comfortable sharing your deepest personal feelings, your laughter and your tears without any fear of judgement.

I am deeply blessed to have many of those friends in my life.  There are some who I see regularly, some who are separated from me by provinces, there are some out of touch by circumstance and there is one in particular who has mysteriously reappeared after we let decades slip past.  But, in each case, we have been able to pick up where we left off and the glue that binds our relationship remains intact.

Friendships like these have sustainability like the house plants you had in your dorm room during college or university.  They may have been neglected and not received the water required to grow, but somehow, miraculously, they continued to thrive and flourish although they were not given the consideration they could have received had they been tended to daily.

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True friendships will continue to grow and spread their roots deeper into the soil of the relationship.  And whether they are watered frequently or left for weeks at a time to fend for themselves, good friendships will sustain themselves during the lonely times and blossom during the moments they are nurtured.

It does take a long time to grow an old friend but it is certainly time well spent.

I’m hearing the voices again….

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I have had a debate going on in my head for a long time.  I am a very spiritual person but I don’t devote myself to a particular religion. I don’t grace the interior of a church on a regular basis but I do believe in a higher power and life beyond this place we call our reality.

As I child I had a few “imaginary” friends.  I don’t recall their names, nor do I remember how long they graced me with their presence but I know, undoubtedly, that they were there.  I watched a movie years ago called ‘Heart and Souls’ with Robert Downey Jr. and the discussion I was used to only having in my head came barreling, full force, into my here and now.  Perhaps the innocence of my childhood allowed me to hear things beyond my three-dimensional limitations.  Just maybe my mind was permitted to be open to hearing the spirits that chose to help me on my journey through this physical world and those voices in my head were not merely conjured by childhood imagination.

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Similar to the plot line in the movie, those sounds in my head were slowly extinguished as I got older.  As my childhood innocence was replaced by teenage angst and the stress of being a young adult, the voices were unable to permeate the reality that had stolen my youth.  My ability to connect with those ethereal intonations was replaced by the clanging, brash sounds of adulthood.

I have been to mediums and people who are able to channel the spirits of those who have moved beyond the physical world.  Some have been a pure hoax and some have been truly blessed with the ability to connect with those voices that wait patiently on the other side for those who are able to hear them and willing to listen.  Through those people I have learned more about spirit guides and souls who have passed but are still connected to my soul.

I can occasionally hear those murmurs again.  Faint whispers land gently on my ears, each with their own unique way of communicating.  I like to believe that those voices have always been with me but I became too surrounded by the cacophony of life to hear them.  I take solace in the fact that I am never truly alone and if I listen closely enough, if I really stretch myself beyond the closed walls of my mind, the whispers of those friends and family will follow me through this journey into whatever adventures lay in wait for me after this one.

 

Putting the focus back on me

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“Always remember, your focus determines your reality.” ~ George Lucas

I have been neglecting myself lately.  And my 24-hour period of sleep last week was a glaring reminder that I must slow down and begin to put my needs ahead of everyone else’s needs.  I am still fending off the same cold that knocked me down last week and I am hoping after two consecutive days off that my body will begin to heal itself.

My physical condition withstanding, I have also realized how many things I have put on the back burner over the last few months.  My blog posts  have been suffering.  My blog reading has been non-existent.  And the things I love doing, like making soup or reading a book, have been put on a shelf and left to collect dust.

But today, that momentum has shifted.  I am making myself a “vision board” so I can focus on the things I want to do for myself.  I have sketched and decided on a design that I am going to have tattooed on my wrist.  I have been thinking about it for a while but have finally given myself permission to take that leap.

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The infinity symbol is a message of empowerment – anything is possible.  Carpe Diem is, not only my email address but, my mantra – seize the day, something I have been failing to do recently.  The butterfly represents my mother and the owl represents my father.  It is a perfect blend of all the things that have the most power over the person I am each day and the person I want to continue being.

On day one of my two days off, I currently have two different pots of soup simmering on the stove, the ingredients for a killer Chili in the fridge and my fingers are flying over the keyboard as I type this post.  I feel like I am finding myself again.  I feel happy knowing I have begun to assimilate to the creature I enjoy being.  And I feel the most elation by knowing that I have retrained my focus and begun to put myself first.

Welcome to the party – who brought my past as my present?

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Bring the past, only if you’re going to build from it. ~ Domineco Estrada

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I am a big fan of Criminal Minds.  It is one of the only shows I watch with any consistency.  It is an hour of television that does not make me want to change the channel and most episodes begin or end with an inspiring quote to preface or summarize the plot.  The above quote, from the show, gave me the kick I needed to get out of the rut I’ve been in lately.

I have not intentionally been dwelling in the past but snippets of my days-gone-by have been playing in my mind like frames from the old reel-to-reel movies.  They have maneuvered their way out of my subconscious and wormed their way deep into the recesses of my brain.  Fragments of those memories unexpectedly bubble to the surface and simmer long enough to permeate my continual thought process.

I am not ashamed of anything I have done in my past.  Those recollections have not been reintroduced to make me feel regret about any choices I have made.  They have merely reappeared to remind me of the lessons I have learned and to help me appreciate the wisdom I carry beneath my battle scars.  And though these trips down memory lane have been taken unwittingly, they have served to remind me of where I have been and where I prefer to never go again.  

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I have chosen not to bury my past but to use it as the foundation for the life I continue to build.  Those blocks of my lapsed memories serve as a strong support structure.  They ensure that my present and my future are ready to withstand any storm that comes my way by giving me a solid structure to lean on in times of doubt.  Those hidden gems of guidance will always serve as the backbone of my existence and the building blocks to my future.

When a wish really comes true

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My last post seemed to send an abundant amount of energy into the ethers.  I awoke with a very sore throat and headache the morning following the post about Newton’s laws and found my health steadily declining throughout the morning.  My energy was sapped, I was, in fact, lethargic, and my legs felt like lead as they slowly carried me to my car after I was told to go home and have a nap.

I crawled into bed at just before 2:00 pm with an alarm set to call in to work to let them know how I was.  My physical situation at 4:30 pm was no better so I was told to stay home and rest.  I don’t think any of us had a clue what that really meant.  My exhaustion was so far advanced that I actually slept for 24 hours!

Newton was correct in his theory that an object at rest tends to remain at rest.  There were a few times I became partially conscious, only to realize my dog was three inches from my face.  She was undoubtedly checking to see if I was still breathing and, once she ascertained my level of cognizance, asked me to let her out.  With a few breaks during that 24-hour period for bathroom trips for myself and my dog, I finally really awoke at 2:40 pm the next day.

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Had I known the power of a wish in the Blogosphere could be granted so quickly, I may have rethought my wish for a lottery win instead of a 24-hour mini-coma.  At least I feel much more rested….and there is always a wish for the next lottery draw if anyone up there is still listening!!

 

 

 

 

I should have paid more attention to my Physics teacher

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It never ceases to amaze me – the amount of hours one works in the real world is directly proportionate to the eradication of the creative mind in the artistic world, especially following a long season of working in the hospitality business.

I remember my Physics teacher in Grade 11 throwing around words like ‘inertia’ and ‘for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction’ but I don’t remember studying the direct correlation of physical exhaustion to prolific brain death.  Sure, the basic functions in my body still happen – I breathe in and out, I walk and talk, but the rest of me seems to be on autopilot – like that object in motion that tends to stay in motion.

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I want to be an object at rest and I want to remain at rest for at least 48 hours.  I want to have my brain back – the brain that wakes me up at night, swirling words around in circles until I can grab them all from those cartoon word clouds above my head.  I want the ability to form those words into whimsical, thoughtful or romantic lines and be able to feel that creative flow coursing through my veins.

I wonder what Newton’s theory would be on my chances of winning the lottery and being able to spend my precious moments writing a best-seller?  Time + creativity = true bliss.  Until that moment, I shall struggle through the hours required at my job and hope my brain can keep up the frantic pace until Thanksgiving comes and goes.  Then, and only then, will I finally be able to strip myself of my frenzied schedule and bathe myself in lethargy.

 

 

Discovering what is hidden

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Admittedly, I am going through withdrawal.  I have not gone on a cleanse nor have I given up an addiction but I find myself recently emancipated from certain friends who truly know my soul and I feel somewhat lost.

Cultivating a friendship from a distance becomes easier as more time passes.  The initial shock of distress subsides and the feeling of isolation is adapted to and accepted.  But when that friendship is reanimated at a one-on-one level it makes the strain of separation that much more painful when those friends have to leave again.

I had effortlessly assimilated to a quiet lifestyle and one that I enjoy very much.  I had been very content to come home to an idyllic piece of property in a secluded location that I share only with my dog.  I had become ensconced in a life of post-work anonymity.   And then the axis of my world shifted.

After decades of being complacent, I found my mind wandering.  After years of feeling satiated, I found myself yearning for something I had not known I was seeking.  The thought of a different lifestyle became abundantly clear and my mind was in turmoil.

I have not invited any of these conceptions into the realm of my existence at this point, but knowing I have the opportunity to entertain these strange thoughts is exciting.  Having the ability to welcome these curious ideas into my life is liberating.  And just thinking that there is another chapter of my life possibly waiting to be written is extremely enticing.

“We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others that in the end we become disguised to ourselves.” ~ Francios de La Rochefoucauld

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I want to think I have not lost myself in the process only to discover I have missed out on writing that new chapter.  I wish to believe that the well of ink still exists and will allow me to continue creating the story that is my life.  And I will never know if that story continues here or exists in another place until I become brave enough to turn that next page.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life is about the simple things

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“If I am what I have and if I lose what I have, who then am I?” ~ Erich Fromm

I sold my gazebo in the spring.  It was a beautiful structure but grossly underutilized.  Now when I look out across my lawn I see nothing but nature.  Apart from what looks like a crop circle where the gazebo once stood, it is simple, it is unencumbered and it now more honestly represents the way I live my life.

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I am not the sum of my belongings.  I appreciate the eclectic and not the expensive.  I am more comfortable in second-hand jeans and a sweatshirt than I am in a designer dress.  I do not own a coordinating set of anything.  My furniture blends but it doesn’t match and the colors inside of my house reflect the colors outside of my house.  Greens and browns soothe me and that will never change.  It is how I grew up, it is how I live and it is how I thrive.

Life, for me, is about the simple things.  I am not inundated by random possessions, I am not overwhelmed by clutter and I am not constricted by a collection of things that are meant to impress anyone other than myself.

I tend to be a homebody and spend more time with my dog after work than I do in public places.  I like to think I am not anti-social but merely selectively social.

Finding happiness in the simple things brings me a sense of peace.  I am not constantly striving to keep up with any trends other than my own.  I am not seeking a status that I never initially wanted and I live by my own rules.

Happiness has a unique definition to each person who has the luxury of finding that elusive feeling.  Mine is a rudimentary definition, explained with simple words and carried out in the most uncomplicated way.  I live honestly, I live sincerely and I live knowing that I will never be defined by what I have, but rather by who I am.

The dog days of summer….and fall

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Working in the hospitality business goes hand in hand with working strange and long hours.  I can adapt to the hours but my dog is the one who takes the brunt of my lifestyle.  I will never leave her outside on a chain to battle the elements – she is firmly ensconced in our home, lazily spending her hours watching the wildlife from the comfort of my bed.  I have several people who are more than willing to come over and let her out during the day because she is such a happy dog and, for me, having her be the excuse to leave work for thirty minutes is wonderful.  She is never a prisoner in her home – she is akin to a wealthy home owner with servants to look after her every whim.

During these long days, I often wonder how she bides her time.  Is she going through kitchen cabinets?  Has she mastered the satellite remote?  Does she inventory my refrigerator?  But each day when I get home from my struggle to survive my sometimes 10-14 hour days, she is there to greet me and nothing in the house seems out-of-place.  Until a few months ago…..

I returned home from my usual work day and I was greeted by the reassuring excitability that I have come to expect.  The house, as usual, was completely intact.  The garbage was untouched and the serene ambiance wrapped its arm around my shoulder and pulled me into its embrace to welcome me home.

My attention was immediately diverted to the duvet cover and what seemed to be a single article of clothing bunched up in the middle of the bed.  It wasn’t shredded and remained intact, however the entire shirt was extremely damp.  She had been licking my shirt for the better part of who knows how long, focusing on the remnants of deodorant I had left behind.  The baffling thing was, had I not known where the shirt was originally, I would never have known how she got to it.  My closet is masked by a cloth shower curtain that poses itself as a makeshift door.  Somehow, she was able to remove the shroud of the curtain, gingerly lift the shirt from the pile of laundry in the basket and replace the curtain so nobody would catch on to her devious plot.

As much as I miss her during my day, it struck me at that moment how much she truly missed me during her day.  The writing was on the wall, or in this case on the bed.  My scent comforted her during her lonely day and it made my heart ache to realize that fact.  We have a very close bond and one that she feels as much as I do.

I can only take solace in the fact that my work days will soon become shorter and more structured.  My time with her will increase and perhaps her need to be close to my deodorant-saturated shirts will abate somewhat because I will be here in the physical form and not just the odoriferous form.

And who knows, perhaps in the meantime I can save myself a fortune on laundry.

What is close enough?

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I have admitted before that my guilty pleasure is anything to do with “The Bachelor”, “The Bachelorette” or “Bachelor in Paradise”.  The shows are a ridiculous waste of time but time that allows me to indulge in absurd adult behavior caught on film and edited in a fashion that allows the viewers to quickly form opinions, not necessarily their own, about the participants on “reality television” but leave reality completely behind.

After the most recent publicly humiliating break-up, a female contestant was asked if she was in love with the man who broke her heart.  Her inane response, through a shower of tears, was, “No, but it was close enough.”.

That line stuck with me for a long time after the show ended.  Through a furrowed brow, I frequently went back to that line and mulled over how sad a life she must lead if she is merely willing to settle for close enough.  I know I am giving too much attention to a line on a television show that was edited for its shock value but it made me think about how many people suffer from the same yearning of just wanting to believe they have found that special person.

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This past weekend I was privileged to witness, and be part of, a ceremony that was leaps and bounds past close enough.  Two people, who are a perfect fit, pledged their love to each other in front of family and friends this past Saturday.  Their connection to each other redefines the opposite of close enough.  Their body language sounds louder than an orchestra.  Their eye contact portrays more emotion than a well-directed Hollywood romance.  And their genuine affection and care for each other is as conspicuous as snow in July.

Although I have a few more years under my belt, this past weekend they taught me a life lesson about what it is to truly find the person you were meant to be with.  There is no close enough.  There is no settling.  Love has one definition and there is no room for interpretation.  Love has no voice, only actions.  Anyone can say ‘I love you’ but it is the person that is willing to show you that love who will truly capture your heart.

Robert Heinlein said it and I quoted him in my toast to the happy couple ~ “Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.”

They have found that love.  And I can only hope that everyone has, or one day will have, the great fortune of finding a love that is close enough to the that bond these two share.