Gratitude

I was already having a great day. I’d had a morning zoom meeting that went really well and left me feeling very encouraged. I had a series of productive meetings and calls after that. It was a beautiful, albeit cold, day and I was planning a delicious dinner.

I had just picked up my youngest from preschool and while the older two were off somewhere else in the house, I had a quiet moment to sit with my little one in my lap while she finished off her veggies from her afternoon snack.

I held her and watched her while she quickly and quietly chomped each of her carrot sticks. It was a very mundane moment, but I was only feeling how lucky I was to be holding her in that moment and just enjoying her presence, and being fully present with her. I wasn’t thinking about anything else. I wasn’t rushing around to get dinner made, or running through a mental list of all the things I still had to do that evening. I was just being, and so was she.

In moments like those, it feels like everything that I can possibly feel grateful for is converging all at once and it’s so big. How is it possible that I am here? That we are here, having this experience? And the very reality that I am here having this experience is enough to feel immensely grateful.

If life has taught me anything, it’s that I am so grateful that I have the capacity to feel and to experience life. Even when those those feelings and experiences are heavy and difficult and I wonder, in the moment, if I’ll ever come out of it. In those moments, I go back to gratitude for the simple fact that I can feel it and experience it. And even more gratitude for knowing that I have always lived to see the other side of grief.

Social Media

A few weeks ago, I deleted the Facebook app from my phone. I wouldn’t say I was a person who obsessively checked my phone, mostly just at night before going to bed, or to respond to messages. The problem was that the stuff I was reading/seeing was just too “charged”.

I haven’t deleted the Instagram app yet, but I barely check it any more. I just don’t care about the likes. Facebook in particular was starting to have this really “slimy” feel to it. Now that I’ve taken a few steps back from Facebook, it has a totally different feel to it––I feel almost repulsed by it. It’s kind of like when I used to smoke and so the cloud of smoke in the club (a long time ago when indoor smoking was still a thing) and I didn’t really notice the smell of it on my clothes, until I didn’t smoke anymore. Now I realize how gross it smells.

I have had SO MUCH more peace in my life since I got rid of that app. I haven’t completely dismantled my online profile yet, (though I intend to as I do not wish to be complicit in the censorship taking place on the bigger platforms that seem to think it’s okay to tell everyone what to think). But, wow, what a difference it makes to not be fed the fear-mongering on a daily basis. And that’s what it’s called, a social media “feed”, interesting. What is nourishing you?

It feels like I’ve broken through chains. Isn’t it amazing that your thought life and what you are feeding your spirit and soul can have such an effect on your outlook and mindset?

I have gone back to reading more books again, actual books, like the kind made of paper. There really is a difference–I suspect the blue light effect has something to do with that, too. I have been listening to more podcasts and faith-boosting teachings. I feel stronger mentally and spiritually, and I have more energy too. It just feels like I can breathe again.

I’m So Proud of Her

As I mentioned in my previous post, my oldest moved out this month, and I’m proud of her. She’s only been gone two weeks and yet it feels like it’s been forever.

She has come to visit both of the Fridays that she has been gone. It was great, the first week, we all got to watch Home Alone together, which is our traditional Christmas movie. And, she and I have continued our friendly rivalry in our games of Canasta, a card game played with 6 decks of cards. She beat me last time, a rare occurrence, so far!

It took some getting used to at first as I had to remind myself that I didn’t need to leave the outside light on for her. But, it’s also not the first time she’s left home; last year, she participated in the Katimavik program and was away for 7 months. That experience was great for her and really helped her grow. It also helped me to realize that she’ll be ok on her own.

She’ll be better than ok, actually. She will thrive. She needed to spread her wings.

She is wise beyond her years. She is insightful. She has strong opinions but is not head-strong or stubborn about them. She is very observant and pays close attention to people and how their words align (or don’t) with their actions; she is not easily influenced. She is really smart and the world is lucky to have her. I’m lucky to have her. I’m blessed.

Normal Things

My oldest daughter moved out earlier this month. She was so excited. I’m excited for her.

It may not have been the most ideal time to move out, in the middle of a “pandemic”. But what struck me, what really stood out to me, was that she was doing something completely normal during a not-so-normal time.

It was rather unceremonious, as basically everything else has been this year. But it was momentous for her, for us. She did a happy dance when she found out she got the place. She moved in with someone who needed a new roommate; I’m glad she won’t be alone during this time. Her roommate has cats, too, which is a big bonus for my daughter––she was really wanting to get one.

A bunch of “normal” things and “normal” moments. I remember thinking to myself, as she was prepping and packing, “Wow, look at this kid, moving out on her own during a time like this. People are still doing normal things.” The fear and anxiety that is in the air for so many, seemed to just fade away, and here we were just having a normal moment, doing normal things. It just made it feel like everything is going to be ok.

Yesterday

I managed to go to sleep exhausted yesterday without writing the second post of my 100-day commitment, so today I will write two.

I used to hate making mistakes, even though I made a lot of them. I would beat myself up, telling myself I should have done better, done more, gotten it right, I should have known better etc. So, even up until not too long ago, missing a day on a 100-day commitment would have really gotten to me. Now I see it as an opportunity to write about this. To write about the choice I have to be kind to myself.

In fact, yesterday could have been a lot better. I could have accomplished a lot more. It was one of those days where my rhythm was just off. A day that could have been really productive just wasn’t. Or maybe it was and I just didn’t feel it. But that’s just it; I recognized it as one of those days. I had not had much sleep the night before, so I knew that lack of sleep was throwing me off.

I am very goal-oriented so I feel best when I’m accomplishing. Right now, even though I’m working on a lot of things, my main priority is running a household and being a mom to young kids that still require a lot of attention. So, what “accomplishment” looks like has to be a lot more flexible for me these days.

Yesterday, one of my kids stayed home from school. Yesterday, my biggest accomplishments were finding a deal on a giant carpet for my basement and then moving all the furniture out of the way for it to be installed today. Yesterday I encouraged, and was encouraged by, a friend. Yesterday I got in and out of the grocery store with two kids and no issues in less than 10 minutes. Yesterday I made a delicious meal for my family and managed to go to sleep earlier, (even if it was because I forgot to do my daily post!). Yesterday was not a write off, it was preparation for today.

100 Days

I’m supposed to be writing a short book, my story, but I seem to be suffering from a little writer’s block in that area. So, I’ve decided to commit to writing a blog post everyday for 100 days. What’s that old saying? How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. (Not that I would eat an elephant… maybe if I was starving and it was the only thing around. Though I probably wouldn’t be able to hunt it if I was at the point of being so hungry I felt I’d need to eat an elephant in the first place… where was I?)

Ah yes, 100 days of writing. What should I even write about? Does anyone even want to read about what I have to say? Maybe not, but I think it’s writing about it that’s actually important for me–even if no one else ever reads it. I need a place to put the million thoughts that fly around in my head everyday. So, that’s what this will be, 100 days of sifting through all of it.

Partially, too, it’s an exercise in commitment. I know there is a certain element of freedom and awakening of energy that will come from getting my story down in writing, but I can’t seem to make myself sit down and start doing it. These are the baby bites that maybe need to come first.

One down, 99 to go.