On the Edge

It’s been over seven months since the world as we knew it changed into endless Groundhog Days, and despite the summer pause between the waves, we are once again staring down the barrel of a long, dark winter of restrictions and continued measures to prevent more spread. The spring lockdown, in retrospect, seemed much easier than this next round might be, even though children are back at school and we have largely learned to manage our daily tasks with the new routines.

I am on edge, though. Not every moment, not every day, but it is there, driven by the convergence of three dominant elements of my personality.

As an empath, I am sensing the struggles of others around me and it is amplifying my own emotions in a negative manner that was largely absent in the warmer months when we could form social bubbles and enjoy what was the most glorious summer weather in years. As someone with ADHD, my tendencies to overthink and not be able to turn off my brain has caused an overload of dark scenarios and overlapping worries. And finally, as if these two major character traits weren’t enough to conspire against striving for a stable state of happiness or contentment, I am an extrovert, and the social animal that I have been my whole life is not able to play with others at the moment or for the foreseeable future, which overwhelms me at times with a sense of loneliness and isolation. Many of my closest friends are educators, and as they’ve returned to school and are drowning in work, I am back to pursuing the interests I had developed in my retirement, but without others around me to share them with, it’s challenging to my mental health.

So here I sit on the edge, visualising it like a riverbank, my legs dangling as I contemplate the water below while my brain attempts to make sense of what lies ahead. There are days with inexplicable tears, meanderings of the mind to despairing thoughts, and emptiness caused by the starvation for human contact beyond my sweet, kind, introverted Viking husband; there are however so many more moments of joy, banter and laughter, recollections of lovely memories of friends and places just out of reach, and interactions with generous neighbours and friends who manage to find safe ways to connect. For the imbalance that favours the positive aspects of my life, I am truly grateful. When the darkness temporarily overshadows the light, I give in to it and let the water submerge me, as I have learned that it is neither realistic nor possible to be happy or even content all of the time. It is important not to deny emotions, but to accept them without judgement and ride them out. Like waves in the ocean, they swell and eventually recede, and land where they will. The water dissipates over the more solid sand, and the cycle continues. It’s important to recognise that none of our feelings are permanent, much like the conditions we are being placed under right now. Better days are ahead, and I for one will appreciate what the edge is teaching me until they come.

Thanksgiving, Special Covid Edition, 2020

Tomorrow is Canadian Thanksgiving, a time to reflect on everything we sometimes take for granted but should be grateful for. This year, I’m going for the list format, which will allow me to be poignant and silly in equal measures, both of which seem necessary in these plague days we seem to be mired in. Please enjoy what I am dubbing the Special Covid Edition Thanksgiving Gratitude List for 2020.

1. I live with a Viking, a dog who is more horse than canine, two mischievous, affectionate panthers, and a Calico with enough attitude to rival the rest of the household. 

The horse.

The Viking.

                                                Cattitude.

                                        The panthers.

2. I love all the creatures great and small mentioned above with all my heart, and cannot imagine my home without them.

3. Our neighbourhood is close to the water, which allows me to have enough access to one of my two most beloved natural elements to avoid the despair of missing the mountains that I would normally have seen in the past few months. Scotland, I will see you in 2021, and all the wonderful friends I have so missed laughing with this year.

The Great Lake.

                                My beloved Scottish mountains.

4. I am deeply grateful that so far, my close friends and family who have contracted Covid have largely recovered from any complications. I know that many are not so fortunate.

5. I have managed not to completely make a fool of myself attempting my first “serious” vegetable garden and look forward to learning from my mistakes with next year’s crop. Like anything else done for the first time, there have been major stumbles (my carrots so far look like the pencil nubs my students would bring me to get a new one) and placement errors, but also beautiful surprises like ginger, cauliflower, and potatoes. The weed also seemed to grow well, but hey, it’s a weed and that's what they do.

The weekend harvest so far: tomatoes, beans, and the start of having potatoes!

                                                    

                                                    My first ever cauliflower!

6. We had a glorious summer with endlessly hot, sunny days, and it started just as lockdown ended, which sent me outside on most days to not only work on the garden, but to read and relax in fresh, warm air. I ended up with a bumper crop of freckles on every part of me on what I called my ginger tan.

7. Our city allowed the opening of outdoor public pools with such competence and careful management that there were only two days where bad storms prevented me from maintaining my aquafit regime.

8. Our city has allowed indoor pools to continue providing lane swims this fall so that those of us who are mermaids can keep our torsos, arms, and tails finely toned as the cooler weather approaches.

9. I discovered the joy of making pebble art on old pieces of wooden fence boards, which I’m now exploring with glass and other materials. While I don’t see doing it as a business (it would take all the relaxation and some of the pleasure out of it), I have made some personal and unique art for friends that has been appreciated and well-received.

                               

                                             Some of my pebble creations.

10. I have acquired a personal DJ who has steadily sent me music by artists I’d never heard of before for the past six months. The discovery of new songs and albums has given me a rich soundtrack that I will forever associate with 2020 in the most beautiful way even though some of them are from the last century. His superb taste in music is only surpassed by his  relentlessly hilarious dark humour, and I appreciate the banter and tunes in equal measures.

11. I can look back on this calendar year and say that despite all the restrictions, I kept myself active enough to avoid putting on the dreaded “Covid 10 lbs”. Between the pool, dog and power walking, tennis, stretching, and yoga, I am fitter and slimmer that at anytime in my adulthood when I wasn’t dabbling in some kind of clubbing drugs.

12. Like most people, I learned some new skills this year, including baking and soup making, and no one died eating any of it.

13. I am eternally grateful that while the Scottish Mob did not manage the Scottish holidays, we maintained our closeness by bubbling up and having summer evenings in my backyard with great shared meals, superb dram samplings, and wickedly competitive euchre tournaments. This is perhaps what I will cherish the most about the summer, and look forward to recreating in the Highlands and Hebrides next August when we are free to travel together once again.

14. While I deeply regret that a few dear friends had some truly difficult times the last few months, I am grateful that their suffering is largely behind them and that our friendships have endured or grown stronger. I thank some of them for allowing me the pleasure of helping them in the small ways I could, and for being such models of strength and resilience, and I owe a huge debt of gratitude to others for coming to my emotional rescue many times to that I could process my own anxieties and mental health struggles. Collectively, they taught me to trust in the hopes of better days ahead, to practise developing my patience and to let go of elements I could  not control in order to accept how things would unfold. You all know who you are, and I hope you know how much I love and appreciate you all. <3

15. Even though the restrictions did not always allow me to see my immediate family as much as I hoped, we did manage a lovely birthday celebration for our mother just before the first lockdown and found ways to meet and make sure everyone was taken care of. Again, the backyard provided a great setting for managing socially distant gatherings, and I am forever grateful to this old farmhouse for helping to bring us together.

16. I am also incredibly lucky that I live in a neighbourhood filled with kind and generous people who happily swap food and treats with one another and share their expertise, whether it's by cutting wood pieces, helping to fix something in your yard, or with gardening tips. Living around such great folks and meeting then getting to know them more has truly been one of the biggest plusses of the last few months. Our horse puppy has not minded the company of the cute dog across the street either who comes by for daily runs while her lovely mum and I chat and enjoy fresh air in the yard.

17. Lastly, I discovered that I am indeed a witch, and that I need to listen to my inner sorceress voice when she is trying to get my attention. She knows things, she understands that things happen and come in their rightful time, and that there are sweet days ahead if we can all just smile and find pleasure and satisfaction in the current ones before us. We will get through this, just trust the magic of the faeries and the witches.

 

The trees will talk, if you listen.

The GIFT OF TRUE FRIENDSHIPS

2020 is almost in its last quarter and some of us are still plotting out or writing our survival guides for the rest of a year that has presented us with change, loss and/or challenges to face and overcome. We may not be sharing the same boat, but the storm has likely damaged us all in some way or another, and I doubt any one of us will be the same once the dark clouds dissipate and life returns to whatever normalcy will eventually look like.

When I tell my story one day, it will be a tale of how some exceptional friends and family members helped me get through the last six months and grounded me enough to face those to come still. As one close pal who is much better at math than I am reminded me this week, we are only through the first third of this nightmare. It will be a story with a supporting cast of amazing folks who have kept me going when I was ready to give up. Some sat with me patiently while I cried and spilled out my frustrations and fears over coffee, drams, and shared meals; others offered the wisdom of their experiences and specialized knowledge to remind me why past events were presenting such difficulties in coping with current ones; there was also gentle yet perceptive advice from some of my closest and oldest friends, as well as beautiful distractions of laughter and wonderfully inappropriate banter to make the hard moments lighter and my troubles or sorrows seem smaller. There were quick notes, phone calls, and shared photos from friends far away, as well as backyard and front-porch visits that filled me with great joy from those who are closer geographically. I cannot wait to be able to hug all of you again when this madness is over. There was also specifically the demonstration of such bravery and strength in watching two very dear friends dealing with their own incredibly difficult struggles with such grace and resilient determination that it made me want to emulate their courage in the face of obstacles that are minor in comparison to their situations.

From this rich tapestry of deep friendships and connections, I have weaved together a plan for the fall that will help me heal myself physically and emotionally. I hope that my superheroes and angels recognise themselves in the sentences that pertain to them, and understand the pivotal  and irreplaceable role they have played in advancing my personal story to a happier ending for the year. 

I have such immense love and appreciation for each one of you, and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity of spirit, kindness, patience, wisdom, and for showing me also what courage and strength look like in the face of adversity. I am truly humbled, fortunate, and most of all deeply grateful that you are in my life.

I AM...

I am WATER.

I will cry when I feel sadness or loss.

I will cleanse my mind of the negative thoughts that make me doubt myself.

I will flow from one joyful activity to another.

I will let go of the things and the people who no longer make my heart sing.

I am FIRE.

I will burn the bridges to the past so that I can leave it behind and not go back there.

I will tame my darkest thoughts so that I can make room for more positive ones.

I will adapt to the uncertainty of the world before us by being hopeful and flexible.

I will ignite my passions and follow them where they lead me creatively.

I am AIR.

I will observe the beauty of the natural world around me.

I will breathe deeply and pause when I need to consider my next actions.

I will focus on what goals I want to achieve.

I will decide which steps I must take to reach them.

I am EARTH.

I will ground myself by honouring my core values.

I will give my time and energy to the people and causes I believe in.

I will build on my strengths and talents.

I will heal my wounds so I can be a better person.

I am SPIRIT.

I will connect with those I care for and love the most.

I will listen to my inner voice and to my instincts.

I will know who to surround myself with to live a happier life.

I will be still when it is time to rest.

Scotland, Italy, and Germany, I am coming for you as soon as we can safely fly again. Stirling, we are going to continue to play and roam together until we are both run right off our feet. Pandora, I promise you that we will find you new siblings to keep you young and happy. My Viking, tennis and travel adventures are in the cards, as are cards and drams with our friends. I want to keep moving up mountains and diving under water. There’s a new tattoo or two coming. There’s a long list of books to read and playlists of undiscovered musical recommendations to delve into. There are great friends abroad and close by that I miss dearly and cannot wait to see again. There will eventually be magical lost evenings at concert halls again. There is art to create with my hands and with my words and thoughts.

Time to look and move forward.

The Road to Peace

Since early July and my last post, I made the decision to address the core feeling that has paralyzed me my entire life, which is my overwhelming concern for those I care about the most when things go awry for them. Worrying these past few weeks was seemingly only good for my waistline, which is frankly a poor reason to continue to accept self-destructive behaviour in myself. 

The first step came when I understood on a deeper level that worry is a secondary emotion driven by a primary one, which in many cases is fear. My fear has always manifested itself when those I love are hurting or going through difficult situations, and it's usually that I won’t be able to help them, or that I will lose them in some way. It is a powerful force, except that in the end, my fear activates a profound worry that ends up being debilitating and sends me on a collision course with anxiety. 

Partly through the month, it was making me ill and I didn’t want to be a burden to those in my close circle of friends who were interacting with me and seeing me so upset. I started to seek out ways to climb out of the negative feedback loop so I could be less anxious about the things I couldn’t control. I made a short list of why it was important to be relaxed, and found that being calmer had a plethora of side benefits, including better sleep, greater clarity and focus (always a bonus to this ADHD-addled brain of mine), and that it allowed me to notice and then appreciate the beautiful things that were happening around me. I realised that I wanted all those changes to happen permanently, and felt that I’d come to a point in my life where I needed to stop being paralyzed into worry by my fears.

So I went to work on finding inner peace. 

I started by taking deep breaths each morning at the far back of the garden. I sat in the lounging chair on a quiet wood deck surrounded by hydrangeas and the sound of birds above me in the tree, and followed a 21-day meditation program that reawakened the connection between my physical, mental and spiritual selves. It reminded me of the purpose of true love for myself and others, of the infinite possibilities that lie before us, and directed my own broken self back on the healing road by teaching me that worrying for others does not affect or change their situation, but instead limits my abilities to help them in any way by robbing me of energy, focus, and strength. Bit by bit, one day at a time, the recitation of mantras and the follow-up journal questions I had to answer allowed me to reach a place where I was able to let go of previous behaviours and focus on accepting that the essence of our being is inner peacefulness, despite the storms that rage within us or around us. Always the mermaid, I liken us to the sea, which is silently still beneath the crashing of waves above it. I also learned to see that these waves land where they will, often unpredictably, and that we must accept this.

I went back to keeping a daily journal, sorting out some of my complicated feelings and facing my fears directly. In doing so, I released all the responsibility from those I was worried about, and took charge of my own emotions so that I could let them go. I accompanied each entry with what I called my “lyric of the day”, because music has always played a role in managing my emotions. I ended up creating playlists that helped me get through difficult self-realisations and gently accept the changes I needed to make.

I made sure to exercise each day, at the pool, on the tennis court, walking the dog, or just puttering outside in the garden under warm, blue skies, and the sunshine and movement kept me engaged and distracted from what had been weighing on my mind. In the end, eating well and taking care of my physical self, as suggested by the meditation and journal questions, also became part of a great wellness routine, and slowly the worries were replaced by gentler thoughts.

What is undeniable is that some of the opportunities we encounter in life come at the right time for us if we pay attention to clues in our surroundings and trust our intuition. While the first month of summer brought me to familiar dark places in my own head, there was a revolt brewing inside of me, as though my deeper self was nudging me to change from within.  I trusted my inner voice when she finally said, “Enough. You’ve spent your whole life worrying about others and it has made you drown in despair again and again. Not this time, and not anymore. We are going to be and do better.” There was an urgency in the plea, as though my future happiness was dependant on finally overcoming this limitation that had held me back since early adulthood.

So I listened, and then made changes, because I sensed the forces guiding me through this knew I needed this issue resolved for what lies ahead. Given the challenges we are facing as a society for the foreseeable future, it couldn’t have happened at a better time, but this monumental shift in my own headspace is also going to matter the most to those who are closest to me. I am going to be able to help those I love without sacrificing my own well-being from now on, and this changes everything: I am finally equipped to return their kindness without losing myself in worry and anxiety, which will also spare them needlessly feeling that they have caused me any suffering. This alone brings me such joy and is worth every effort I’ve made to get where I am now. My heart is full, and I’m ready to be the best kind of friend they all deserve me to be for them.

Holding On By Letting Go...

It’s summertime in Ontario, the sun is shining, the weather is scorchio, and the outdoor swimming pools are open as part of the gradual re-opening of our public spaces. I’m surrounded by breathtakingly beautiful garden flowers and my vegetables are starting to reveal themselves to me in the raised beds I haphazardly seeded, planted, and cultivated many weeks ago. We are also now able to see more people than previously allowed, and we have “pods” and “bubbles” of chosen family that we can hug and get close to.

With all this progress, it’s been a difficult few months for me as I’ve predictably let myself feel the pain of others I care deeply about. It is at once a fatal flaw and something I’ve learned to treasure, because to deny or lose my compassion would surely be the death of my soul. However, I’ve needed to find a way to manage my feelings more constructively for a long time now. In the middle of this pandemic, which I really think has exaggerated our responses to everything thrown at us, I believe I am close to figuring out how my brain and heart work together, which may be the key to avoiding the emotional meltdowns that have plagued me in the past.

It has always been difficult for me to understand and accept that for some, the healing road is inside their heads, and that they need complete withdrawal to figure things out. I am prone to endless overthinking, and detours to dark thoughts and the worst possible scenarios when I am troubled for myself or others, but there is never a doubt that I need the proximity of my closest friends as company to feel better: their laughter, their banter, and their occasional counsel and advice for all the mental torture I put myself through as an empath is how I eventually regain my balance and climb out of my sadness. As a result of my extroverted nature’s methods, the hardest thing for me to accept from those I care about is their shutting me out for their own self-preservation. It is, however, one of the most important things I am making the effort to understand and support because I value all my closest friendships and need to respect that for some, their paths to self-healing are unique and essential for recovery. In my own struggle to let go and grant my friends the space and time they need, I think 2020 is going to finally teach me to let go of many things that have weighed me down throughout my life. With some luck and hope, there will be a beautiful win-win at the end of this transitional chapter.

Here are my take-away lessons:

1. While I am happy to allow others the pleasure of helping me (as the hugely missed Neil Peart so eloquently put it), I need to accept that some of my closest and dearest do not feel the same need and are much stronger for going it alone, and this is absolutely fine.

2. The special friendships of those in my circle that I call my “anam cara” (soul friends) are for life, but there will be times when we may be apart because one of us needs the distance, and this too is absolutely fine. The pauses for renewal will only make the reunions sweeter for the longer passage of time between them.

3. I must trust that if I have treated my dearest friends to the best of my ability and have not caused them the pain they are experiencing, that they will seek me out again when they have dealt with their troubles. I must then have the patience to wait for them to return to the wider world, and greet them without judgement and with open arms when they emerge.

My inner witch has much wisdom to whisper in my ear when I listen to her above the noise, and she is telling me very strongly to honour and respect the wishes of those I love the most so that, in future days, we can resume our camaraderie and pick up where we left off. She leans in and reminds me that while I wait, I also need to work on keeping myself whole, and that any lingering thoughts must focus on the sweet memories and ties that bind us together: laughter, banter, chats, our mutual love of music, books, and good food, drink, and company. She has assured me that these sacred friendships are lifelong and always worth holding onto by letting go, and I believe her. 

Random Musings on Day 92...

Here I am on Day 92 of my "lockdown", with random thoughts, observations, and reflections. I am quite aware that much of what I feel comes from the privilege of being retired since last summer. As a result of that, I am not as disrupted or affected by a lot of the hardships and struggles that others have experienced by the changes in routines, and nothing I've written is meant to minimise opposing reactions. I also know from various conversations with others in different positions (furloughed, working from home) that I'm not alone in my views, and that it's important for each one of us to respect our different perspectives. Stay well, everyone; we will get through this.

1. I still like my own company.
2. The muted world is so much more manageable when you have ADHD.
3. I have not been bored even one day.
4. I have found joy in simple, everyday tasks like gardening and walking the dog.
5. It’s not grocery shopping that I hate, but being overly stimulated by other shoppers while I am there.
6. The people I miss and those I thought I would miss are not necessarily the same people.
7. Some of my closest and dearest friends live very far away.
8. I have not spent much time in front of the television.
9. Reading fiction continues to be a great source of joy.
10. I really have generous, kind neighbours.
11. Birdsong really is beautiful.
12. My husband’s company is still a pleasure after 90+ days in very close quarters.
13. We have never prepared or eaten more healthy food than we do now.
14. I am not over eating or drinking, and I get decent exercise on a regular basis.
15. I have been inspired by the words and actions of friends and family who have shown me kindness, or who have modelled the art of acceptance and the letting go of things we cannot change. 
16. I haven’t spent as much time online as I thought I would.
17. I am thankful that we switched from a condo to a house a decade ago for the sanctuary of the yard.
18. I’ve not found myself doing much online shopping.
19. When the world returns to whatever new normal awaits us, I will jump right back into the pool, the concert venues, and onto an airplane to find my happy places.
20. Music, water, and laughter are the most healing sounds on earth.

Two Months In and Counting...

It’s been two months since I cobbled together some early thoughts about how the global pandemic might affect society at large and change the world.  My perspective on things has evolved somewhat, but I have decided not to pursue that for this blog entry as it’s a topic that is being covered to death all over social and mainstream media. The only point I’ll state is that there is certainly no truth to the utopian idea that we are all in the same boat together, although we may well be in the same storm together. Some of us are better equipped than others by circumstance and privilege, and nothing in the last 60 days has made that any less obvious. 

What I have observed though is that one’s reaction to all these changes and restrictions is not necessarily made easier by all this privilege, or that all people are reacting with the same frustrations and impatience. Indeed, everyone is going through this differently, with their own struggles and successes. I have seen friends who find “normal life” challenging embrace the slowed pace of this lockdown and thrive in their home confinement, finding the withdrawal from work and society’s usual demands a great relief; likewise, I have seen others complain of utter boredom and a loss of purpose. Still others are working harder than they ever have, as their home office hours never seem to cease. As a retired person on a small street filled with some really cool neighbours, it’s been mostly a positive experience; we share baked goods, are now in the seed-swapping part of planting season, and there are endless curb-side conversations with adults and children about all sorts of nonsense. Tools and other equipment are being loaned out, and I am even “borrowing” a few next-door dogs for daily play dates so the pups can remain socialised. Sure, the yard has holes and patches without grass, but the pooches are having a ball and watching them each afternoon is a joy.

I miss my family and friends both abroad and in the city, and the idea that I can’t just jump in a car or on a plane to go see them is difficult to accept some days. Our May vacation was postponed, and it is odd to dream about going somewhere in the future without a date in mind. That said, I am still waking up most days grateful and happy despite the deep yearning for a swimming pool to make my aches go away.

I have embraced gardening and have, for the first time, gone from germinating seeds to planting (done after today’s new moon on the advice of the wise old Maltese grandfather of a friend of ours); one of my great neighbours built me deep elevated vegetable beds and a sunning deck at the back of the yard, and I believe these two new additions will keep me out of trouble for the next five months. I have revitalized the front garden with new dirt and black mulch, and the late arrival of spring this year meant that tulips and irises have burst onto the scene together to bring colour to the curb at the same time. Today, I brought out all the plants and seeds in a whirlwind of activity designed to create a summer sanctuary and a gentlewoman’s farm: I have broccoli, potatoes, carrots, pumpkin, squash, three types of tomatoes, sorrel, red and green lettuce, all kinds of cooking herbs, a blueberry, raspberry, and strawberry bush, and my first foray into “weed” on top of the flowers and greenery that normally brighten up the space. The idea of getting to spend the next few months watching my food grow and then harvesting it is at once calming and exciting.

I’ve also kept other simple pleasures in the daily routine: exercising, walking to the lake (with or without the dog), reading, writing, and eating two delicious home-cooked meals each day with my Viking. I remember to have ice cream and chocolate when I crave it, to enjoy a great cup of coffee every morning, and to soak my exhausted body in bubbles and Epsom salts each night. The small luxuries are important to keeping my spirits high, as have been the video and phone chats to friends near and far.

The last piece of the happiness puzzle has been music. I have to be more quiet than usual during the day to keep my working husband from distraction, but I have managed one LP or CD spin even with those restrictions on most weekdays and weekends. Many of my favourite artists have also taken to Youtube, Facebook, and Instagram for live gigs from their homes, and it has been so wonderful to spend time listening to more music than I normally get the chance to. While I initially found myself online for long stretches at the beginning of the lockdown measures, the “real” or natural world holds much more interest for me. Technology is a great tool to keep us connected, and I appreciate the ability to see my friends while we chat, but I’ve really gone off typing and texting and I don’t much miss it. Likewise, I’m busy enough most days that I’ve not binged on Netflix or participated in social media games, memes, or list challenges. At the end of most days, I fall into bed physically exhausted and mentally calm. Despite my little aches and pains and the longing for friends and family, I am happy, and for that, I am grateful. I just hope everyone out there that I know and love is also keeping well. Stay safe and healthy until that day comes, because I can’t wait to share laughs and hugs with you.