Month: December 2011

Two recent ordinary events made me appreciate simple things in my life more than I do already. Knees and rain that is.

I hurt one of my knees two days ago. Not an unusual occurrence with my restless lifestyle, you might think. Quite true, but still. Pain aside – no, I am not a wimp by anyone’s definition, but there is no medal for pretending either – I found the inability to do things the usual way very frustrating. Going downstairs to do laundry takes a minute too long now and every step is measured carefully or else. Occasional sharp pain is a crude reminder how simple things like healthy knees are really a blessing. I will still run, bike, jump, climb, ski when my knee heals but the reminder will stay with me. A small scale event compared to real health disasters so I am grateful for the heads up too.

As for the rain, it went crazily simple like this: I was driving on a highway with no wiper fluid and my windshield got so muddy and dirty that it was getting quite difficult to see through. I thought of rain and how a few drops of it would change my view, literally speaking. The sky was cloudy and draping quite heavily over Vancouver so as we drove in, the few desired drops hugged my dirty windshield and wiped its muddy cheeks. I loved rain before, I did. The few needed drops of rain though made me think of being so thirsty I could not see. That has never happened but what if? The knee pain went away instantly.

It really starts with simple things. The blessings we often, too often, I’d say, overlook. Say it isn’t so.

“Some days you’re the dog, some days you’re the hydrant.” Anonymous

Definitely the dog today. It went like this: I once wrote a story. Can’t divulge the theme because you might like to go in fresh. I liked it but since I am at times rather overcritical with my own writing outcomes… well, you get the idea. Stored it for later, which later might never come. I took it out a couple of times just to blow off the pixel dust and ponder on its worthiness. And then one sunny day I felt gutsy enough to send it out. To a contest. The email that took my breath away today announced just that. That they like my story enough to make it a qualified entry. So I am in. Heart rate went up, I bounced a good bounce. You could say I don’t need much to be happy. True enough.

People like you will cast their vote on the stories and someone will win. Good then. Somehow I feel like that is not of importance now. Not being meek. It’s the fact that I’m in, you see, that counts. The confirmation that someone else other my dear close ones who do not want to hurt my feelings when I ask for their opinion on my writing, someone who does not know me personally, said yeah, we like your story.

So if you have the time, please read, criticize, shake your head if you must, and if you like it, say that you do at the end where you’ll find a little button with a star next to it. If you don’t like it, worry not, I’ll keep at it and maybe one day I’ll get a nod from you too. Either way, the journey is well worth it.

I had another post in mind but today was one of those days when things seem to work well enough on the outside but inside everything is upside down. Gripless is how I felt all day. Hard to explain why but then again if you’ve ever felt this way you know what I mean. Unsettled would be another word for it.  Like I’m wearing shoes ten sizes too big and trying to run to catch a bus that only comes once a day. And I only get to see the dusty tail of it. So between feeling sorry for myself and doing nothing, and jumping over muddy puddles, I chose the latter.  It’s only natural to assume that I fell in a few but got out and mud falls off anyway when it dries up, so by tomorrow you won’t be able to tell. Here’s what puddle-jumping involved:
– Did some of the little things around the house I’ve been postponing for a while. On a day like today a few small accomplishments stringing along feel better than a major victory. To me they do.
– Tidied up the house while listening to Sasha’s little voice chattering away. Nothing tops that sweet chattering, ever. The topics range from profoundly cute to cutest. Of course I’m biased but who’s to say I can’t.
– Put almost no effort into making dinner. A left-over dinner with good laughs and no grumbling from the boys about the menu repetitiveness. Somehow they know when not to, which is but one of the reasons I love my boys. Reading with them and extra snuggling at bedtime and the day brightened. At nighttime, no less. I know, the irony.

So there it is. A day of forgetting to be grateful while nursing invisible wounds. Nothing wrong with that though. There should be a national “cut yourself some slack” for people like me. Might as well start with today. To be repeated as necessary.

When I was nine or so I had a most terrible dream that my mom had died. I woke up with wet cheeks from all the crying I did in my sleep and I was still crying. It was a cloudy morning in late December and the sky was one giant droopy eyelid of sadness. The state of despair was chased by some familiar noise coming from the kitchen and the unmistakable smell of coffee. My mom was still there and I was the happiest upon discovering that but a part of me was still rolled up in a sad ball under the covers crying over something that was lost forever. The innocence of not thinking that people can and will at some point disappear from my life. The knowledge of the inevitable was a most painful yet unavoidable discovery. I got out of bed promising I’ll never upset my mom again and I spent the entire day tailing behind her, looking at her, feeling her smell and looking at her hands, which I always thought were so beautiful. I was also consumed with the guilt of having had such a horrible dream which I  never told my mom about.

Many years later my mom passed away, ever so quietly like she just stepped out for a bit. My painful childhood dream stared me in the face and this time there was no bittersweet realization that it was just a dream. I could make no more promises that I’ll never upset her again or that I’ll buy her flowers or spend time with her doing the things she loved. The thought of having postponed some of those things for future times was one of the hardest to bear. I learned so much from my mom during the many years she was around and then I learned so much after she left. I learned that I have today to make people I love feel loved and special. I learned that tomorrow is often times too late. If I care I will say it or do it. Today. There’s never been a better time. Because it’s the only one we really have, making good use of it to do the things that matter for the people who matter makes sense.

I don’t believe in gifts to say, “You are so precious to me” but I believe in being thoughtful. I believe in not holding back when it comes to making someone’s world brighter. As for the regret that comes from not doing some of the things I wanted to do with and for my mom, it’s there and it hurts. But through that I’ve learned to not postpone and wait for a better time to make others happy. We can never say we’ve done all we could do or wanted to for those we love, there are limitations of various kinds, life is like that. But then again, the thing that is most precious, the gift of love and unconditional acceptance of the ones we love, that one has no limitations. When all the memories of lost opportunities will be forgotten that one gift will stand out and prove to be the most important. It was Maya Angelou who said “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Somehow my mom knew that.

“Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes.” Jack Handey, American humorist

It’s a tough one. We are being told “Don’t judge” yet when we’re old enough to know right from wrong we realize that everyone is doing it but no one is openly admitting it. I know I am. After some deliberation I came to the conclusion that one can be critical and that could be helpful because it is directed at a situation, issue or behavior trait rather than at the person. But sheer judgment targets the person and that is hurtful. I will not serve you the “There is something good in every one of us” because quite frankly lately I have a hard time believing that. Over the summer I have been confronted with some facts of life that have brutally bent that belief out of shape. Whether temporarily or permanently I don’t know, but that’s not for me to decide now and I will try my best to not let it overcast my good thoughts when meeting new people.

Back to judgement: I don’t see it as a helpful tool. In most cases if not all it hurts and it is merely a projection of a “goody two shoes” attitude. We’re seriously believing we’re better by extending judgement over people. Whether we really are or not is a matter that carries a high degree of subjectivity so it is futile I believe to try and settle it. I can’t speak for others, of course, but in my case, when I am being critical I do it with the intention of making a situation better or raising questions that might ultimately lead to that. When I judge I know it’s one of those things that could hurt if I were to say out loud. And not saying it out loud is plain cowardice so there really is no decent way out of it.

I am not in the business of bettering myself to the point of becoming nauseatingly good, that’s a fool’s errand, and will tempt folks to judge which defeats the very purpose of my writing this. So I won’t do it. But becoming conscious about it means that I will hopefully judge less and accept people for what they are. I may not agree with their lifestyle, with their convictions and ideas, but as long as they are not hurting my world or the people in it, all I can do is accept the fact that we are all different. Hardly ever has anyone benefited from being judged, but many situations and issues have improved when people stepped in with healthy critical tools and some good solutions at hand. Leaving egos at the door makes for a less intimidating environment where everyone agrees that no one is fault-free enough to cast the first stone. Please feel free to throw in your two cents, I think it’s safe to agree that it’s a judgment-free space.

We are being chased out of a particular time of the day by runaway thoughts. I am at least. If I am sitting down having dinner with my boys I am already thinking about what books I’ll read with them after, if there’s still time to bake some cookies and which ones would take less time and whether I should give that draft another read tonight before sending it out. That’s just a sample. So I’m there but not quite. And if the day has been a challenging one I’m even less there than I should be. It could happen any time, not just at dinner time. I could be robbed of any part of my day and it’s really up to me to put up with that or not. Whether I immerse myself fully in that moment or not, the time will pass just the same. It could be dinners, talking a walk, chatting with a friend or working on things. If I choose to do something at a certain time or if a situation crafts itself around me, I have two options: To be there body and soul and make the most of it, to taste it fully, or to seemingly be there but be far away at the same time. It shows, the not being there part, it really does.
It’s a waste of time, I think. Mine and other people’s too if there’s others involved.

It really pays off to be in the moment. I’m not talking about being stuck in an elevator for four hours. If you consciously choose to be somewhere at a certain time, make the best of that situation.
I’d rather learn to say no to committing to things I don’t feel quite right about if I have a choice than do it and not be there fully. I once read that if we were to think at the beginning of every day that we are being given 86,400 seconds and whatever is not used will be taken away at the end of the day, we’d make better use of our time. I’m tempted to say the same about the poorly used seconds, the ones we waste on trying to spread ourselves too thin, the ones we’re not even aware of bidding goodbye to because we’re too absorbed plunging head first in the ones to come. It’s bad enough. But then to waste someone else’s is even worse. So I won’t anymore. It’s not easy and it won’t happen overnight but I’m committing to it. Join me?

PS: The reading of this took 120 seconds or so of your day. I hope it was worth it.