Category: Personal Care And Lifestyle

Seven Lessons In Seven Days

~ pebblesandclay ~ Leave a comment

I wrote a few months back about seven things I learned in seven days to help me make sense of a hard week I had experienced. It was cathartic and fun, and I thought about revisiting it from time to time. So here it is, the second instalment of Seven In Seven.

Seven Things I learned In Seven Days

  1. October is much different than September here in southern Canada. All signs point northward. (The Big Dipper hangs low in the northwestern sky on our after dinner walks that now take place in the dark, the jet stream shifts, pulling cold arctic air down into our area, and north winds make me walk faster and pull my coat closer.)IMG_0396        See where it says shots of cold air. That’s us.
  2. I have a lot of expectations. I expect a lot of myself and others, but there is more. I also have expectations of how things should unfold, how meals should taste, how work should proceed. It is unrealistic and sets me up for disappointment. I have decided to expect less and love more. (I have been practicing for about a week now and it’s working. The present moment is usually a very fine and adequate place, if we allow ourselves to be there.)
  3. It’s a good idea to have working radar if you’re sailing in the fog near a ferry lane.IMG_0387
  4. On a recent visit to Martha’s Vineyard I discovered wampum. Wampum are beads made by the Wampanoag (Eastern Band Cherokee) of Aquinnah from the quahog, a hard shelled, purple and white clam. The Wampanoag fashion these beads into bracelets and earrings and belts. I am still thinking about my friend’s bracelet that just spoke of the sea to me.                        images
  5. Prince Harry is a very good motivational speaker. I just watched his closing speech for the Invictus Games. We can all do amazing things…and should.
  6. Yes, there is such a thing as a fogbow. IMG_3536
  7. I feel numb (Las Vegas). I feel badly about my numbness, but I don’t know how to respond anymore. These events just seem inevitable given the refusal to investigate these tragedies as rigorously as we do plane crashes or terrorist attacks and to take measures to prevent them from happening again. My heart breaks for all those families who will never be the same because on a warm night in October some members decided to go and enjoy an outdoor country music concert.

Mini Breaks and Short Escapes

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We all live busy lives and I have come to  believe that taking a mini break is some of  the best self care we can offer ourselves.  We live in the mountains,  so for us an escape to big water seems to be what we crave. We are lucky enough to live near a large lake and are only a five hour drive to the coast. These are our “go to” places when we are in escape mode.

We are currently visiting friends in Martha’s Vineyard.  Whenever a short escape involves a ferry ride, I know I’m onto a really good thing. Leaving the mainland is such a symbolic way of letting go.

With the mind hushed there is so much more space to experience sounds and smells and changing lights. We visited a beach here called Lucy Vincent on our first morning.

IMG_0379The dramatic rock formations, ethereal in the early morning.

We try not to have too much of an agenda when we are away. For us, it’s not about doing or seeing but more about being.

Our sail in the fog the next day certainly took away most of our visual references.

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It became foggier and foggier as we left the mooring and entered the big water. It was as if the sun had burnt a hole in the fog just above us to let the light in, but all else was veiled.

IMG_1265Ghost ship in the fog.

We moved silently in nature’s spotlight. Without the usual visual cues, sounds became so much more intense…and important: foghorns and the bells on the buoys and engine rumbles in the distance were our only points of reference. (For all of you sailors who might be worried, yes, we did have radar.)

Short escapes are all about these sensory experiences that take us “away’ however briefly.  It reminds me of the children’s story Frederick by Leo Lionni. While all the other mice are busy gathering food for the winter, Frederick is gathering colours and words because the winters are grey and long.

We might not have been furthering our winter preparations  these last few days, but we have been filling with colours and words. We will bring these out on some cold winter day to give us nourishment of a different kind.

 

 

 

Ruthie’s Clothesline

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My friend, Ruthie, takes pictures of her clothesline and it says as much about her as any selfie could. From this picture, you might have surmised that Ruthie is a colourful person, living a fairly relaxed lifestyle in the country. And you wouldn’t be wrong.

I began being curious about clothes and how they can tell our stories better than any photograph after reading an article in  The Book of Life called The Serious Business of Clothes. The article ended with this line, “Our wardrobes contain some of our most carefully written lines of autobiography.” After reading this, I decided to write my autobiography around different clothes I wore throughout the years.

I began my autobiography  with the first article of clothing that I remembered being truly excited about. Here is my recollection:

“I can still see them resting in the cardboard box with the cellophane lid. It couldn’t have been a better gift if the prince himself had delivered them. My six year old hands trembled as I carefully lifted the first one from its tissue paper nest. The sunlight shone on the sparkles in the clear plastic and they whirled and danced inside. Magic.

Tentatively, I slipped both feet into the glass slippers and inched my toes under the white elastic band with the pink and chartreuse flower embroidery. I took my first hesitant steps trying to adjust to the pressure under my arch that supported the kitten heels. There was something about those heels that caused me to hold my head a little higher and move with a grace I hadn’t known before. There was power in those shoes.”

I grew up in a very masculine household with an energetic father and two brothers. My mother was British and wore “sensible” shoes. This was one of my first remembered experiences of what it felt like to be a girly girl – a princess, if you will. And I loved it!

In the spirit of Ruthie’s clothesline as self portrait, I decided to take a self portrait of my own. Since I began my autobiography with a story of shoes, I thought it fitting that my updated self portrait  be of shoes. I tried a few combinations, as you can see.

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It’s not as easy to take a self portrait as you may think. I’m liking the relaxed look of Ruthie’s clothesline  more and more after my experiments this afternoon.  My self portrait might be considered interesting, but relaxed, no. And that just about says it all.

 

*The Book of Life is the “brain” of the School of Life co-founded by modern day philosopher Alain de Botton. It is a gathering of the best ideas around wisdom and emotional intelligence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Metamorphosis

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One day he is there in his caterpillar body hanging from the lip of the glass jar that has been his home for the last two weeks, and then he is not. It’s a death of sorts and has me feeling mournful for his loss this morning.

IMG_0092You can see him attached and suspended in the J position.

He had been acting differently for about three days. He stopped eating and moved to the top of his glass jar. He stayed in a horizontal position there for a day or two until he suspended himself yesterday.

This is the scene this morning.

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Lack of appetite and failure to move are maybe the first signs a death/transformation are imminent for caterpillars…. and for humans too. Can’t help but think of the similarities. I am wondering if in the last three days he had been sensing that some big change was about to happen. Certainly his body was giving him signals.

I find myself trying to imagine the organic shiftings that are happening within the chrysalis at this moment: cells rearranging themselves, tissues dissolving and reforming. On the outside all looks quiet. He has pulled himself in and shut out the world. His home for the next two weeks this beautiful yellow/green orb with gold dots sprinkled around the top.

This is the universal story of  death/rebirth coming to you from a glass jar on a screen porch. We are now in that quiet place, removed from the world, encased in a protective shell, waiting on the work of  forces far greater than anything we could ever dream possible.  It’s a miracle really.

 

 

 

Be Careful What You Wish For…

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Yes, this is me wearing my new Fitbit. And that’s not all, but more on that later.

Maybe it has been the long, cool start to spring  but it has been hard for me to get into a new, more movement centred life this year. As is my practice every month, I do a little introspection and come up with something that I feel would enhance my well being in some way. This past month I decided I needed to focus on health. I am not as flexible as I would like to be and my knees just don’t bend in the ways they used to.  I also know I need to move more, which is where the Fitbit comes in. I decided to buy it for two reasons. The first being its handy step tracker that I can set to a level that ensures I am out and moving more consistently and for longer periods. It is presently set at 10,000 steps and I haven’t managed to meet that goal yet. I am blaming it on the rain! The second reason is a bit more obscure. I like to write early in the morning and lately I have had to set an alarm in order to wake up. The alarm wakes me but also my husband who has been preferring a little more sleep. I happened to read that the Fitbit has an alarm feature that allows it to vibrate on your arm at wakeup time. Decision made.

As everyone knows, movement is only one part of a healthy lifestyle. Enter the second part and probably the hardest – making sure the foods I eat also enhance my health. Some of the writers I admire and follow online have been doing this eating plan called the Whole30. I figured if I was willing to invest in a Fitbit,  I could go  one step further and check out this eating plan that was creating such a stir. I ordered the book and it arrived the other day. All I can say is that it is BIG. I was expecting something much smaller and simpler, maybe a little paperback with a few diet suggestions and some great recipes. But no. This book has 421 pages with planning plans and shopping strategies! Eek! I am presently  on page 90.

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The Whole30 is not a diet but a plan to go without some of the common allergens and inflammation causing foods for one month and then reintroducing these foods slowly to see how your body reacts. Armed with this knowledge you can adjust your diet to eliminate or go more moderately with these problem foods. It all makes sense. But it is a full month’s commitment and 421 pages of planning. I am already trying to imagine a month without chocolate or wine. Wonder if these just might be some of my problem foods? (I wish I had an emoticon I could add here!)

I’ll let you know how this all works out, but in the meantime, have a glass of wine for me.

 

The Ritual of the After Dinner Walk

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Here in the northeast it is dark and cold for six months of the year. Which means that at its darkest we lose the sun at about 4:00 in the afternoon. This makes for long evenings inside by the fire which is quite enjoyable in January but is crazy making as the season progresses. (Hello Netflix and the Movie Channel!)

In early spring Daylight Savings Time puts an end to the premature closing of the day.  Once again the evenings hold some promise and for me that means I can go for a walk after dinner.  On the colder, wetter spring days this requires some discipline but mostly it is just so nice to be out and moving again. The added bonus – I get to see spring arriving on our road bird by bird, tree by tree.

Our road is an unpaved, mountain road that rises steeply to open up to this at the top.

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The marker where I am sitting is directly on the Canadian/American border and is where I stop to catch my breath from the steep climb and to rest in the wonder of the long distance view.  It’s a fitting end to any kind of day.

Do you have an evening walk ritual that helps bring closure to your day?

Beginnings and Endings

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I have been thinking about beginnings today. It is the first really warm and sunny start to a spring day we have had this year and the garden is full of daffodils, scilla, and hyacinths in full bloom. I have just cracked open a brand new moleskin journal with all the potential that holds and we are at the new moon phase of the month. All beginnings, and all holding the joy of the unknown that is about to unfold.

Along with beginnings, of course, also come endings and I have been thinking about those also.  I am thinking today of some of the endings that I have not done well. I have this beautiful sweater sitting in my basket with only a small part of a sleeve and a button band to finish.

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It has been there for a year, maybe two. And this hat…

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Both projects will require some concentration and relearning on my part because they have been put away for so long. But as I look at them now I can see the beauty in them that attracted me in the first place. Maybe I don’t finish things when they get hard because it is easier to move on to the next exciting project than to stay with the much more difficult task of bringing something to completion.

It is not only my knitting project basket that holds the discomfort of the unfinished. I have two university certificates each lacking the final course because when it came time to complete them my life had moved in a different direction. I am not good at dividing myself. It is a quality of mine and also a fault as all my unfinished projects so vividly remind me.

I am getting better at completions. I have had to. I am learning that as hard as they are, they are the necessary final act: the tying together of all that has come before. My greatest teacher about this was my father. I am thinking about him this morning because it was on a day something like this six years ago that he was diagnosed with a brain tumour. He died within three months. I had had my own first really serious health issue shortly before but I knew I had to be there for my dad’s final act. This was not something I could leave in a project basket to pick up again later. There were no final chances here. I showed up for him every day even though it was gut wrenchingly hard and my tears flowed freely. It taught me about resilience and love and doing the right thing even though it took every bit of emotional stamina I had. And it taught me that endings can be even more beautiful than beginnings if they are done with presence and love.

And for this final lesson, I am forever grateful.

Responsibility Anyone?

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A healer friend of mine has developed a universal set of mantras for us to use on our journey to wellness and the very first one on her list is I am responsible for myself.  You might think, as I did, “Well, this is pretty self evident.” But is it?

There is a psychological model called the Drama Triangle developed by psychiatrist Stephen Karpman that helps explain how many (most) of us navigate our relationships in life starting with our families. Lynne Forrest who has done a lot of work in demystifying the Drama Triangle explains, “Whether we know it, or not, most of us react to life as victims. Whenever we refuse to take responsibility for ourselves, we are unconsciously choosing to react as a victim. This inevitably creates feelings of anger, fear, guilt or inadequacy and leaves us feeling betrayed, or taken advantage of by others.”

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I have been thinking a lot about responsibility lately because I am the sole family member living in proximity to my 95 year old mother and taking care of her needs has been a big part of my life for the last number of years. I fluctuate between feeling resentful, exhausted and overwhelmed to feeling a great appreciation and love for this time we get to spend together. This split got me thinking about what was creating these two very different realities – one where I feel at peace and the other where I feel obligated and guilty.

Lynne Forrest feels that the difference is in being responsible to as opposed to being responsible for another person. Ultimately we are only responsible for ourselves. And others are responsible for themselves. Where these lines get blurry are in the very young and the very old. The vulnerable obviously need someone there overseeing the situation and keeping them safe.

I have come to realize that the key for me is taking responsibility for myself first and that means checking in to see what I need every day before making myself available to others. (The airline protocol of putting  on our own oxygen mask before helping others illustrates this concept beautifully.) This respect I show for myself helps me to show the same respect to others, so I am less likely to try and fix and more likely to listen. I am still a work in progress: I have spent many years in the rescuer role. But it sure is nice to know there is another way that brings greater love and acceptance into my life.

*If you feel like exploring the Drama Triangle in more depth you can go here.