 All frothy on top. I don’t think I could get by very long in a world where I wasn’t allowed to have my morning cup of coffee. I like mine strong but milky. Is that a contradiction? Whatever it is, it’s just so yummy, so comforting. Since I’ve been working from home, it’s become something of a routine that eases me, with caffeine love, into my day. My close companion through email checks, day-planner updates, feed-reading, and finally, settling into the workday. Coffee and I are BFFs for life.  My mind moves much faster than my life does and I’ve been noticing lately how much of an issue this is for me. How incapable I seem to be at just thinking about right now instead of 20 minutes, 20 hours, 20 days or 20 years from now. I focus too much on what’s to come, on what’s next, instead of what I have to embrace and enjoy right now. The more I think of it, the more I realize what kind of debilitating long-term problem this has been. I am a collector of possibilities that I never seem to get around to fulfilling. And waiting for later takes all the joy and excitement out of something that was once shiny and new. It becomes old news before it has even begun. I’m sure a lot of this has to do with how much I hated (and how trapped I felt by) being in school. Living in the moment was always the last place I wanted to be. I don’t think I was always like this though. As a child I lived in the moment, I’m sure. But once my horrible school experiences started taking over, I think that’s when my collector behaviour began. This problem has been niggling the back of my mind for a while and it’s not something that I’m just going to get over tomorrow. But I think that if I keep it as a goal in my mind, to not just live in the moment but to appreciate it and find joy in it as well, then things will slowly start to change. It is the Year of Change, after all. I need to allow myself to have some time to just be, because for too long I’ve been putting off for tomorrow what I could’ve and should’ve been doing today. Reminds you of the name of this blog, doesn’t it. Coincidence? I think not. * Eating 10 pounds of sugar in the form of smarties, jub-jubs, cookies, etc. makes for quite the sugar-crash headache the next morning. * Living in the moment seems a lot more fulfilling than freaking out, spending so much time planning for the future. Kyrie seems to do it pretty well. I think I should read her blog more often. * It might be nice to try knitting a hat, but that might require me teaching myself how to knit in the round. Do I have time for that before Christmas? * It is miserable outside. I do not like going outside when it is miserable. I have to go outside today. * My camera is broken! Well, my good camera is broken. All I have now is my point-and-shoot. Sniff. No hand-shake minimization. I wish I could replace it with this but there’s no way on earth I could afford it. Double sniff. * There must be an inverse relation between how much fun you have spending an evening baking cookies with friends and how much suckage there is cleaning up the kitchen the next morning. Sigh. * Have I mentioned my good camera is broken? Whimper. Maybe I can look into buying a used DSLR…. Well, I’ve definitely decided that telecommuting is worth giving another try. Though it is gonna take some getting used to, finding a new routine. I’ve been telecommuting for a few days now, but inevitably I’ve been spending the whole day in my PJs and feeling out of whack because of it. Today I’m trying something different. Attempting to ignore the pressure to begin work immediately upon waking up and instead starting when I’m good and ready. (Read “showered.”) I think part of the reason why the transition has been so hard and why it didn’t work before was because I’ve been trying to keep my hours up. But for me, working from home can’t be about putting in 40-hour weeks all the time any more, or I might as well be working in the office. Changing one’s mindset is hard. And it’s harder than it sounds, acting as though you already are the person you want to be. Maybe I’m half way to pretending. Somewhere near that mid-lifechange point. There’s still a lot of prep work to be done and routines to be hammered out and some definite cleaning of my apparently neglected apartment to wade through, but perhaps once those things are in place it will be easier to wake up believing that I already am who I want to be. I just need to give myself more time. Time to settle in, time to clean up and time to focus on making plans for actually starting my career. Time to enjoy Christmas would be a nice bonus, too. And keeping crazy hours at my current job is not gonna help me with that. So really, what this is is time to let go. I don’t have to be the best at that job anymore because now, I’m learning to be the best at something else.  I found myself feeling overwhelmingly philosophical this morning. More than usual, it would seem. Most of the time I keep my philosophical thoughts to myself. In our “modern” world, it has become something of a faux pas to start up a philosophical discussion. And with the frantic pace of 21st century lives, who really has time to waste on philosophy anyway? So really, I guess I don’t talk about this much, but I am actually an acutely seasonally-minded person. More than any organized religion ever has, the spiritual side of me is awakened by a reverence for nature as it continually renews itself through the turning of the seasons. I see creation in all things from stardust to my pinky toe and I have respect for them all, equally. Call it what you will, this is just how I feel in my heart. And as you know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my day-to-day life, what it’s been like for these past few years and how much of it has been lived on autopilot. And part of what bothers me so much is that I don’t live what I feel, partly because I worry about being judged as a weirdo, but more because of this autopilot fallback postioin my life often takes. I guess it’s just another offshoot of the general thoughts I’ve been having about mapping a direction for the rest of my life. Now that I am happily engaged, it seems as though philosophical and practical questions are colliding. I’m questioning what kind of future I want it to be: Where do we want to live and “settle down”? How soon after the wedding do we want to start having kids? How are we even gonna afford this wedding and what kind of lifestyle changes will we have to make to save that kind of money? How do I start living a more seasonally-minded life so that I don’t feel quite so spiritually hollow all the time and can start creating the home and family that our future children will eventually be welcomed into? And where does a career and the need to make money fit into all this? Because I am still struggling with knowing what to do in that aspect of my life, and generally trying to fight back the overwhelming fear that in this recession-ridden world, me and my Celtic Studies degree are completely unhireable. As usual, I don’t seem to have any of the answers to my questions. Part of it is that I don’t really know where to begin and part of it is that no matter how hard I try, it is increasingly difficult or me to feel at home in our cramped upper floor apartment, living in someone else’s house in the dirty urban core of a major metropolitan city. No money + no car + no job with a future = staying put right here without even being able to change my surroundings even a little bit to spruce it up and make it feel more homey. There I go, sounding all down and sorry for myself again. I’m not really, I swear. I guess I’m still just floundering, looking for square one of where to being. It’s just hard to feel connected to nature when all you see outside your window is concrete and brick. But take that first step I must, whatever it may be, because I refuse to stay living in this limbo. I need to start being mindful and fully present in my own life, not just coasting through it. I need to create the life and the future and the family I want, not just lie back and wait for it to find me. Okay, here it is. I’ve gotten to a point that I’ve been to before but rarely, if ever, moved beyond. The dishes are under control, the laundry done, the apartment clean, tidy and organized. I so rarely get to this point. (Have I mentioned that already?) It is my normal state to be behind, trying desperately to do all the things yelling at me all at once to get done. Where do I go from here?  I know I sound vague, but my life has always been, “one day I’ll have the time/money/energy to do that.” Maybe that “one day” is now. Maybe I can figure out how to live a normal life… Sigh. Still sick over here. This morning I was getting so fed up with this cold that I actually took some cold medicine, something I view as a last resort. It wasn’t a miracle cure but it did enable me to breathe through my nose for a while. And it was better than nothing, so I though I’d take the opportunity to return some books to the library and pick up some others that I had on hold. Plus, it killed two birds with one stone since Daisy was getting antsy for that late-morning walk she’s developed quite the ardent taste for. I briefly toyed with the idea of also picking up some things we need from the grocery store and the drugstore and maybe swinging by the bank, but I changed my mind on that pretty quickly after another excellent sneezefest hit. Besides, leaving Daisy outside the library for a couple minutes while I pop in is one thing. Leaving her outside the grocery store for the better part of a half-hour would never fly. So I got dressed and ready, books in hand, dog in tow. But, ladies and gents, what do you suppose should be the case when I finally get up said library? The damn thing is closed! That’s right. Apparently, for some unknown and completely stupid reason, the library doesn’t open until 12:30 on Thursdays. I was pissed and confused. I looked at my watch: 11:45. That was 45 minutes until it finally opened. Well, going to the store and the bank to kill time were still out of the question, especially since I’d left what I needed for those trips at home. And the thought of walking all the way home and back again felt like more than my dwindling energy levels could bare. What to do? What to do?  Well, I thought, I do have a bag full of books with me, and I did just pass a park… So back I went to the park and found a sunny spot in the grass to sit and read. Daisy was confused. When we go for walks we generally, you know, walk. She was not used to this whole staying-in-one-spot thing, not when in foreign territory anyway. After a few whimpers and much sniffing around she got over it and settled in. The grass was damp and cool and the sun was nice and warm. I pulled out a book I hadn’t gotten around to reading before it was due and dove in. And it was nice, if a little odd for me. See, I never just randomly sit in the park, or anywhere for that matter. I never have that kind of time. Usually if I’m gonna take a break, I take it in the comfort of my own home where, once the break is done, I can quickly move on to the next task on the never-ending to-do list. But this forced impromptu park visit made me remember how nice it is to do things outside by yourself. Not because you’re going somewhere, but just because it’s nice to be outside. It’s something I don’t do nearly as much as I used to since I don’t have my own private yard or anything anymore. But it was fun and it was relaxing, and maybe during my time off I’ll try out a planned park excursion. Who knows, I may even get a tan! Though I think, in future, I’ll make sure to bring a blanket to save my butt from the damp (tee-hee!) So I thought about it, and here’s what I came up with as a template for my days: On most mornings, when I’m not fighting off illness, I tend to wake up naturally around 7:00. I’ll do the tea/coffee and email/blog thing for a half hour or so. Just enough to keep the email landslide at bay. While I like and enjoy technology, I’m trying to make sure I’m not a slave to it. I was starting to feel that way for a while there, but I think that recently, I’ve found some balance on that front and no longer need to read every twitter or respond to every blog post. There just would never be enough hours in the day. After that is the usual shower/breakfast/get dressed trio, and Daisy often needs a mid-morning walk as soon as I’m presentable. Perhaps I’ll take the camera along on some of these and see where we go. An early afternoon snack, say around 1ish, with a magazine and a cup of tea may be a nice way to break up my day. I’m thinking it also may be enough of a break to shake me out of any possible morning brain-stuck I feel setting in. Because the plan is to not waste away entire days uselessly. Tuesday afternoons are the Farmer’s Market/CSA pickup, and taking some time to peruse fresh veggies is always a real treat. And the bonus of being off this month is that I can get there early and swoop up the good stuff before it’s gone. You know, instead of being the one at 5:45 in the afternoon, moaning, “Darn! The peas and spinach are all gone again?!” And I hate late dinners (one of the blights of my current existence) so if I start cooking promptly at 4 p.m. every afternoon, I’ll never have to worry about feeling bloated at 10 p.m. and may even have enough space for the occasional dessert! And finally, since I generally tend to run myself into the ground every evening before plunking down into bed too tired to even wash the makeup off my face, 8 p.m. will now be my Gettin’ Ready for Bed Time. I’ll still probably end up doing all sorts of things in the evenings before falling into bed exhausted, but at least I’ll be doing them fresh-faced and already safely in the PJs. Now you’ll probably notice that there are a lot of things that I didn’t book into this schedule, and that was on purpose. There are things I wanna do when I’m ready, when the mood strikes. Not when my schedule says I must do it. Stuff like writing, trips to the gym and the library, more walks with Daisy, visiting with friends, chores, chats with my mom, etc. I want each individual day to have its own feeling. To be memorable in some different way, instead of each being exactly the same, stamped out by a cookie cutter. I get enough of that during my workdays. This time isn’t about that, it’s about discovering me. Well, my chest cold has broken into a lovely cough with stuffy/runny nose to match. But I do seem to be getting my energy back, albeit in small spurts. It was enough for me to take Daisy on a walk around the block this morning. And I really should’ve taken the camera with me when I did. New summer flowers have been popping up everywhere while I’ve been cooped up inside. Roses and tiger lilies, especially. They’re everywhere and they look gorgeous. Note to self: Remember to take the camera next time we go out. And because I’ve had more energy, this morning actually resembled something closer to a real morning, rather than me just getting up and moving directly to the couch. Which reminds me. I did have “plans” to settle on a rhythm to my days, something that everything else will free-flow around as I see fit. So I’ll be posting my shot at putting virtual pen to paper and thinking up a routine that works tomorrow. PS – What the HECK was the name of that show from when we were kids where two teams of two children had to do ridiculous things, including making some disgusting concoction that the other had to eat the most of before the time was over. I seem to recall flour and M&M’s and peanut butter but…. What the heck was the name of that show?!  I used to be a voracious reader as well, inhaling anything with even somewhat intriguing cover copy. As I got older, school readings became more important than anything else and my love of reading dwindled under the weight of being told what to read. But my love of writing never really faded. It did, however, quickly move away from the fictional towards the introspective and autobiographical. As I grew up, and there was less of a chance that my siblings would sneaking a peek, my journal entries became much more self-reflexive, without the fear of reprisals. When I write today, it continues to be self-reflexive, and I am buoyed by all the like-minded blogs I read out there from equally introspective women. (Peruse the blogroll at the side or email me for recomendations if you’re interested.) Even my reading has turned from the fictional to the non-fictional, even so far as the autobiographical. I’m picking up The Gentle Art of Domesticity again. It’s a book I’ve owned for a while but didn’t have the energy to devote to the kind of digestion that it deserved. During this month, I think I’ll have the clarity to take it all in, especially since my own goals in life so closely reflect those pages. My mother still thinks that I should write children’s books. It’s true that I do have a vivid imagination. But I’d much rather write about this life as I experience it. The joy and pain, the ups and downs. There’s a whole section in the library for autobiographies, mostly those of famous people who have done wonderful or terrible things. But what about the autobiographies of simple people, doing simple things? To me, those are the more important. They are the true reflections of a society, of a life, of a time. So that’s why I write, to preserve my memories as they happen. To write my own autobiography as a testament to the simple and to the good.  This morning was like that. The sun rose and I followed, just before 7. Daisy got up with me, ready for her morning walk and so I tied back my hair, threw on a pair of jeans and took her around the block. I love early summer mornings. There’s always just a touch of cool to the breeze, since the sun hasn’t quite risen far enough to make it muggy and uncomfortable yet. This morning was like that. It was refreshing and awakening. On weekday mornings there’s always such hustle and bustle going on in the neighbourhood, but today was like a Sunday, almost. The streets were all but deserted except for the occasional dog walker or elderly woman watering her garden. Even the pigeons had yet to come down from their roost atop the old school. They still sat up there in pairs and threes, cooing to each other in the weak sunlight. Daisy, as usual, thought it necessary to smell everything, so our walk was slow. Which was fine by me. On weekdays I all but drag her through her walks, always feeling rushed to get back and get on with whatever else is left to do on the laundry list of daily chores. But no, this morning was leisurely. Flowers always smell sweeter first thing in the morning, right after they’ve opened. I always find it amazing how many flowers can be crammed into the tiny front yards of downtown homes Eventually we made our way back and, as usual, Daisy demanded immediate feeding before promptly going back to bed for a snooze. But I stayed up, having a cup of coffee, relishing the fact that I had the chance to sit down with a cup rather than having to pack it into a travel mug or buy one on the go. I wish all mornings could be like this: quiet, sunny, warm, calm. Gives me a peaceful feeling that I carry through the day. You know, rather than the frantic and rushed knot in the pit of my stomach that I carry around most days. It’s too bad, really. Something tells me that most mornings used to be like this…a long, long time ago. I know, I know. I promised to show these pictures to you ages ago. But, well, I’m a lame-o and kept forgetting. You know how it goes. But, finally, here they are!   Happy Spring Equinox, everyone! I love spring. Not as much as I love autumn, but it’s definitely a close second. Tiny little buds unfurl, bright sunshine means warmer temperatures instead of colder, and the days slowly begin to get longer again. While it may not yet be perfectly spring-like up here in these northern climes, there have been several warm days already and all but the most stubborn of snow piles has long melted. This morning was chilly but I could smell spring in the air when I took Daisy for a walk. (You know, that “growing” smell. The smell that comes after the dog-poop-like sent of soggy ground has gone, but before the perfume of pollen has a chance to fill the air.) And the birds are singing again. They’ve come back and right now I can hear them chirping up a storm outside my window. Yup, spring is definitely here and in another month I’ll start seeing sights like these lovely blue flowers popping up all around my neighbourhood! Yay! P.S. : Happy Persian New Year, Shima!  It’s the last day of the month, and what a ridiculous month it was. Have you ever thought your hip was broken? And been under the age of 65? No? Now imagine how I felt when, at the ripe old age of 28, the doctor told me that I had a fractured hip. Yeah, exactly. Thankfully, it was a false alarm, but you can see why I’ve been a bit distracted from my blogging lately. But it’s amazing how freeing and motivating it can be to find out that you don’t need surgery. Tomorrow, Dave and I go for our gym orientation, which means I can cross another goal off my New Year’s Resolutions. I’m actually really excited to go and start working out. I just wanna sweat, you know? I wanna burn up a bunch of calories getting my heart rate up, then go home and take a hot shower and relax. Oh, by the way, I’m up for my dream job! After two interviews, I’m waiting to hear the final (?) word whether or not I get the job. I’m trying to think really positive thoughts. But truly, I feel like this job is mine, like this job and I were made for each other. It’s almost more excitement and anxiety than I can bare. But patience is a virtue, so I just need to stay calm and wait a few more days. Six at the most. It seems like a long time, but will probably fly by considering I have a lot of catching up to do around the house. There was a lot of stuff that sort of fell by the wayside when I though my hip was broken. Now that I know it’s not, it’s time to pick up all those dropped balls and get back on that horse! (Can you say “mixed metaphors”?)  Well, with that all done for the time being, I’ve had breathing room enough to take a look around. And what do I see? For starters, Month 1 of The Year of Freedom is already over. Most of it was spent playing catch-up and getting back in touch with my life. Lots of cleaning and stuff-purging and lots of getting together with people I hadn’t seen in months. There was a lot of thinking about the future going on, too. February is shaping up to be just as busy. But this is a really good, new kind of busy. The busy of outings and social gatherings, of fun times and hard-won sleeps. Much better than the stress and strain of essays and exams, readings and homework. And how are my New Year’s resolutions looking after this first month? Well, some of them haven’t been started yet (Good Life, you and I have a date next week.) and some of them, particularly my email mission, haven’t been going so well. Probably because I’ve barely looked at my email at all in the last two weeks, but still. I’ve got about a hundred extra emails in my inbox than what I reported having last month. I know, I know! Bad, bad! How do people do it, not getting swamped under the landslide of emails that come in every day? Seriously, if you know some magic secret that I do not, help a girl out! I’m all ears. |
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