By Sarah, on July 17th, 2009 Safe or happy? Safe? Or happy?
That was the question that was twirling around my mind on the way home from physio yesterday. Do I choose a play-it-safe life or do I choose one that’s happy and fulfilled? Is there a way to choose both?
And what keeps holding me back from being my authentic self? From leading the life I’ve always wanted to live? From doing what will make me happy rather than continuously falling back into bad old habits. That is one of my biggest fears right now, that after this whole month-long experience is over, I’ll simply go back to work and nothing will have changed.
How do I be that person and live that life that I always dreamed of? What makes it so significantly different from the life I’ve been leading? The answers to these questions are, I think, the next big list that I want to tackle. I like lists. They work for me and often help me pinpoint the swirling thoughts in my head. I just need to do some good, hard thinking about the whole thing.
Because I want to be the one leading my life, making the conscious choices and decisions. I do not want my life to be leading me. Ever.
By Sarah, on July 13th, 2009 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?
 This feels like new territory and I don’t wanna mess it up. I think the next step is to tackle the kinds of things that I always put off. The things I get excited for when they are new but then they inevitably end up on a shelf because guilt stops me from indulging in such “wastes of time.” I rarely start projects and it’s even rarer that I finish them. I wonder if I’ll be able to introduce this next step successfully without guilting myself into ignoring or avoiding.
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…
By Sarah, on July 12th, 2009 So, at the end of my first week of freedom, where do I stand? I’m all but phlegm-free for one. But has any progress been made? What have I learned about myself and what I want? Well…
I like this slower pace.
I like not having headaches all the time.
I like quiet mornings and quiet evenings and busy in-betweens.
I don’t like downtown Toronto, would rather live in the country but will settle for someplace far enough away from the core as soon as I can afford a car. Because while a car is crazy expensive, my time is worth too much to commute from the fringes by transit.
I really dislike not having a private yard, so I’m still toying with the idea of moving. We’ll stay here until October and see where we stand at that point. Maybe I’ll wait till spring if the new jobs are within commuting distance from here.
Because I do need a different job. I don’t think that, in general, I will mind working hard enough and long enough at a job to get the things I want, but I hate my current job with its harsh deadlines, zero respect and the inability to ever get a raise or promotion. I think a lot of my unhappiness has been coming from feeling trapped in that job and the stagnating version of my life that is the direct result. I just have to keep applying. It doesn’t matter if I’ve applied for a million jobs and heard from none, all that matters is that I keep trying and keep applying. I mean, someone’s gonna have to hire me eventually. I just need to keep trying and not let myself get discouraged when I don’t hear anything.
Because I can’t control everything in the universe. Shocking, I know. But I actually have very little say about what inevitably happens, so I need to start trying to let go of my stranglehold on events and trust instead that things will work out.
And part two of that is to stop holding on to so much stuff, all in the chance that I might need it one day. Holding onto things just in case or for sentimental value never leaves room in your life for wonderful new things to come in! So I’m thinking of doing some reorganizing and purging while I have the time. It may be slow goings though, since I’m trying to really think about the purpose and the function of everything.
Well, that’s all I’ve got for this week. It seems like a lot of good stuff to have figured out already, considering I’ve been so sick. Here’s hoping that the rest of my time off is equally productive.
By Sarah, on July 10th, 2009  Once the late evening comes, everything remains in shadow, except for the tops of the tallest trees, whose leaves glitter in the last of the fading sunlight. The air in the evening smells deeper, richer. It carries the smell of grass and berries and pollen. Nearby, I hear the shrill screams of children playing. Everything seems so different during childhood. The summer days seem so long and twilight is a magical time. Cicadas chirp in the trees during the day and crickets chirp in the grass at night.
I remember the summers of my childhood. All day, every day, running around outside with friends, building tree houses, playing make believe. And then at night, when the heat would break and the thunder and lightening would come, I’d huddle in my bed excitedly waiting for the next earsplitting crack.
I remember being really happy during those summers. I never even remember being bothered by the humidity. I think it was the freedom of living on a quiet suburban street, able to spend unstructured hour upon unstructured hour finding ways to entertain myself. I was never bored but I do remember always wishing to be grown up. I couldn’t wait to be 18. That was the age when you were an adult and your parents couldn’t tell you to come in for dinner right at the best part of the game.
Now that I am a grown up, I wish that summers were still like that, where you had all the unstructured free time you could want to pursue your every fancy. I’ve been thinking about that a lot as I try to reclaim a little bit of it this summer. All I’m missing is having a yard and a chance to have grass between my toes.
On an unrelated note, I’m thinking that I would also like to ween myself off of evenings full of TV. Instead, maybe I’ll go for evening walks or read a book or do some knitting. Something quiet. I like TV, I do, I just think I’ve had too much of it in my life for a while and maybe summer is a good time to take a break from that. I’m just sayin’.
By Sarah, on July 9th, 2009 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!)
By Sarah, on July 8th, 2009 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.
By Sarah, on July 7th, 2009 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?!
By Sarah, on July 7th, 2009  When I was young, I used to dream of being a writer. I had all sorts of fairytale-esque story outlines tucked in notebooks all over the place. I remember during my babysitting years, telling two of my charges a bedtime story based on one of these story scraps I had. Inevitably, their parents returned home before we came to the end of the story and I left for home. The next day, their mother called me. Apparently both girls were desperate to know how the story ended. I had to tell them that I didn’t know how it ended because what I’d told them was all I’d made up.
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.
By Sarah, on July 6th, 2009 So yesterday was something, that’s for sure. After that last post, I started looking up all sorts of stuff about the countryside. Then my mind turned towards farming and how cool it would be to have an organic micro-ecofarm. I even asked Dave what he though about it. But like the level-headed half of this partnership that he is, he stayed typically reserved and noncommittal.
Well, I went back to my research, looking all sorts of things up. But the more I researched, the less sure I became. What if this was me grasping at anything again? How could one buy and start a farm with a negative amount of money in the bank, anyway? And that inevitably led to another meltdown. I ended up crying, feeling trapped by my lack of choices in life, worrying about the future, and upset with myself that I’d tried to grasp onto another harebrained scheme again when I promised myself I’d stop doing that.
Seeing my distress once again, Dave sat me down. He said, “Look, I think you’re trying to jump from Step 1 to Step 3 without going through Step 2. Getting to where we wanna be in life is gonna take a lot of hard work and sacrifice, more than we’ve had to do in the past. But you need to be prepared. It’s like that old equation says, any project can only be two of these three things: done with high quality, done on time or done on budget. If you want something of high quality done on time, it’s gonna cost you. If you want something done fast and cheap, you forgo quality, and if you opt for high quality done on the cheap (which is probably a good analogy for what we want from life) it’s gonna take a long time to get there.” Longer than, oh, the five minutes I generally have been giving myself. What can I say, patience has never been one of my virtues.
We continued talking, Dave trying to make me feel better, and me trying to be okay with our current lot in life. I eventually came around to the realization that I end up so easily grasping onto all these random career paths because none of my life goals actually have anything to do with a career. My dreams for a self-sufficient life of gardening, baking and child-rearing has zero to do with working for the man or climbing the corporate ladder. “So,” Dave said, “maybe what you need is some crap job to help you get from here to there. Maybe that’s what we both need.” But we already have crap jobs that pay more than a lot of crap jobs and we barely scrape enough money together every month. “Ah, yes,” he said, “but we currently have dead-end crap jobs. What we need are crap jobs with some growth potential.” So that’s the point we’re at now, thinking about looking for crap jobs with growth potential so that we can scrimp our way from here to a home we can fix up, with a huge yard and/or a little bit of land. So that one day I can feel like something of a suburban homesteader: growing things, making things, raising children and being happy. That’s the real goal. And the real detriment to our current jobs, since it is unlikely that we well ever get another raise or promotion there. We instead just remain in a holding pattern, able to pay most of the monthly bills but forever hounded by the thousands of dollars of impenetrable school debt I have. (Hard to believe, huh, that we both have respected university degrees and we’ve come to the conclusion that all we can hope for in life is getting a crap job?)
Maybe we’ll have to move to a basement in Scarborough, cancel the phones and the cable TV. There are some debts that can’t be reduced, that we’ll just have to keep paying till they’re gone, like our gym debt. It was a good idea, and I’m happy we did it, but getting a trainer at the gym was, in all honesty, way beyond what we could afford and I shouldn’t have made us do it. We all live with the consequences of our actions, I guess.
So I have a month to figure out how to live the next five years on the cheap. Somewhere in there getting rid of my $40,000 school debt, saving a down payment for a home and perhaps even starting a family. Cloth diapers are still nouveau-chic, right?
By Sarah, on July 5th, 2009  Whenever I read British magazines like, say, Country Living, I often get overwhelmed with a sense of nostalgia and longing. There is something so different and almost idealized about the British countryside. It seems fuller, richer, more respected, and filled with greater opportunity.
Trying to compare the countryside life I see in British books, movies, magazines and TV to the Ontario countryside is like night and day. (Though, admittedly, I have no experience with one and very little experience with the other.) The Ontario countryside that I’ve experienced is, frankly, little more than urban sprawl. Outside of Toronto is the GTA, which seems to be another name for vast subdivisions of hastily erected houses on too-cramped lots, close by newly erected Smart Centres. (You know, those giant parking lots ringed with various big-box stores.) There doesn’t seem to be any town life or career opportunity close to home out there. It just seems to be nothing but a holding pen for middle-class families whose parents commute the hours a day into the city for their office jobs. Ugh. And beyond that are aging towns whose young people have moved on to greener, concrete-laden pastures. My view may be admittedly biased but it is the view from here: living outside of Toronto is career suicide.
All may know my great dislike for city living. The longer I live here, the less I find things appealing. Especially in this internet age when one can have almost anything shipped straight to their door by Canada Post. In fact, if I could figure out a way to make a living in the country doing something with my hands and my mind that didn’t require a two-hour daily commute back into the city, I think I would do it. The what has never seemed quite as important as the where. Probably because there are a lot of things I could do that would make me perfectly content and have nothing to do with a computer or a six-lane highway. However, one cannot live in the country unless one owns a car. (Or wishes to be completely cut off permanently from the outside world.) Also, I doubt Dave would appreciate the country life as much as I would, nor would he appreciate leaving all our friends behind in the city.
But the more I think about it, the more I wish it were possible. I mean, I know very little about Western or Eastern Ontario. My only experience, as I said, is with the GTA, north to Muskoka and east to Peterborough. An admittedly small sample to be making such broad deductions with. Perhaps I can do a little research. Because I think that the longer I stay in the city, the unhappier I feel. And since I can’t really move to the British countryside anytime soon, this may be a good start.
By Sarah, on July 4th, 2009 So yesterday was my last day at work. Stretching before me now is a whole month to figure stuff out. Yesterday was also my friends Ram and Mezan’s respective birthdays. It was a lot of fun to go out for dinner and before we left, Ram was awesome enough to let me borrow his Canon DSLR for a couple weeks. I’ve been drooling over the Canon Rebel series from afar for a while now, and it will be nice to actually get to try one out. Especially now that I have this time off and I want to blog my way through it, having a camera that takes great pictures will be super helpful, I think.
I’m a very visual person, and being able to see the world around me through a camera lens, while I decide which path to take, will be a different and challenging experience. I’m usually too wrapped up in myself to remember to take pictures of anything. Yet, whenever I do, I’m always so happy with them. They end up meaning a lot to me, like my grad photos that I just edited and uploaded this morning. I was happy to have those pictures and with them, the ability to remember that moment clearly. Since I am trying to slow down, be more deliberate and think about things more, the camera should help. I just have to remember not to get so caught up in it that I’m not actually experiencing the moment. The perfect capture every time is not necessary.
But on the side of the slightly ironic, what do you suppose happened today, on this, my first day off? Why, I feel like I’m coming down with something, that’s what. The feeling I had in my lungs and chest this morning was as though I had spent last night puffing my way through an entire pack of cigarettes. Something I have not actually done in a long time, and certainly didn’t do last night. I really hope this doesn’t knock me down for the count, but I was planning on forcing myself to take this time slowly, so this may just be the universe’s way of making sure that I do.
You know, it really is amazing how much of a weight I feel lifted off of me, just since I got the okay from my boss to take this time off. It’s shocking really, especially since earlier this week I could feel myself drowning fast. I’m almost worried that this euphoria will mask some of the goals I have for this time. This feel-good surge will be all too fleeting if I wind up right back where I started after this month is over. I just can’t let that happen. I’ve been letting almost everything blow past me in a daze of unresponsiveness lately. If this is going to work, it will have to be deliberate.
Fingers crossed and here we go.
By Sarah, on July 1st, 2009  You know, it is so much easier for me to wake up when I’m not dreading the day. Most weekday mornings I doze till it’s almost too late, finally dragging myself out of bed after hitting snooze for the second or third time. But any morning I know is my own, I wake up naturally refreshed and happy, long before the alarm is even set to go off.
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.
By Sarah, on June 29th, 2009 I did it! I talked to my boss about taking a month off. He was really supportive and is totally gonna let me do it. Already I feel some of the weight lifting and a glimmer of hope rising out of the abyss.
By Sarah, on March 26th, 2009 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!
 Dave took these pictures a while ago. We were at Swiss Chalet half celebrating our third anniversary. There’s something so great about Swiss Chalet. They’re not glamourous or pricey and I doubt their menu has changed in years but what they do, they do well. It was a good day.
By Sarah, on March 3rd, 2009 
Yesterday’s post really struck a nerve. A lot of thinking went into that. To distill who you are as a person down to a few words, it really pulls your life into focus. And the more you think about it, the more you see where you are excelling and — even worse — where you are lacking. It’s been a long time since I did thinking like this. Years, probably. Because I am never quiet anymore. It is never just quiet. There used to be too much of it. So much that I would fight it off, filling it with childishness and stupidity. Now, I forget what it sounds like, what it tastes like.
Without the quiet I stop seeing who I am. The me of before and the me of now have diverged somehow. I suddenly remembered everything I used to value most. Everything that doesn’t seem to have a place in my life anymore. I only speak the hollow words.
I used to write, think, read. I used to know who I was and have an emotional connection to myself. Now, I am the product of all external influence. I have more confidence but much less to be confident in. My connection to nature is lost, replaced by mechanical things. Where is that soft and sunny life I expected to have? Fresh sheets and clean floors, warm breezes and tiny buds? I’ve forgotten how to read, how to write, how to think. I’ve forgotten how to feel like myself, sipping wine, smelling incense. Didn’t I want a garden and a view? Didn’t I want to try for the best? Didn’t I shun materialism and the vagaries of the hipster life?
Where is that woman? For, in truth, she seems more the grown woman and I the naive girl. She the one who knew what she wanted and I the one still struggling. I think it’s about time I did some reclaiming of the woman I used to be. Then maybe I’d have something really special to blog about.
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