Then it is Time

Relax and breathe ~

  

  when your heart is crying, 

  when the world is too heavy, 

  when the wind is too wild

~ it seems impossible. 

It is the only solution 

  

  when we know that 

  we are no bigger 

  than the air in our lungs

~ then it is time to 

breathe deeply and relax.

“Your breath is your best friend.”

~ Professor Ramchandra Gandhi,

Philosopher and teacher

Chapter Two, Episode 156 - Two Men Talking - Situationally Theirs

“Distractions come in my way all the time. Just when I think things are going the way I want them, something changes. Em is my biggest distraction. I don’t know if I’m even making sense, Matt. I just feel lost.” Jeremy didn’t really know Matt Hamilton all that well but he had no one else to turn to. After Emelina had walked away from him the night before, he just sat and played the scene in his head like it was a movie. She came in all excited about being a farmer. He exploded at her. She said she should go and just left. Alone, he didn’t know what to do. An experienced doctor, successful in his career, kind to his patients but Em walked away. He finally called Matt when he couldn’t think anymore.

Matt knew he was on shaky ground. He suspected Emelina would have gone to Dez right away. Was he about to step into something sticky and smelly? But he knew what it was like to have someone walk out of his life. His was different though, at least he thought so. “Let’s meet for coffee. I haven’t had supper yet. You eaten anything?” Jeremy had to think a minute. “I don’t think so. I mean I don’t think I’ve eaten for hours. I guess I am hungry.” 

~~~~~

They met at a Denny’s, shook hands and went to a booth at the back. Matt hadn’t eaten all day and ordered the Hungry Man’s Breakfast, coffee, orange juice and a big stack of toast. Jeremy, his stomach growling since he had been reminded that he hadn’t eaten, ordered chilli, a Monterey sandwich and a glass of milk. The booth was silent while the two men ate their meals.

Matt wiped his plate with a piece of his toast. Finished he sat back and beckoned the waiter for more coffee. “Shouldn’t have more coffee this late, but it’s been a long day. What about you?” 

“It started out long and just got longer, Matt. I’m getting too old for the hospital work and then this trouble with Em.” Jeremy finished his sandwich, scraped his chilli bowl clean and drained the milk. When the waiter came to the table with coffee he held out his empty mug to her. “Thanks. Just the cream - no sugar.”

~~~~~

“I think I’ve got this all sorted out, Matt. You’re a good listener.” The two men were in the cool night air. “Any time, Jeremy. You’ll do just fine, you and Em. Glad I could help out.” He turned to his pickup, stopped and said “Say, why don’t you come out to the orchard tomorrow. I could use a hand if you’re not doing anything,”

“I’m going to call Em tonight and I’ll let you know.” 

“Life is travelled at a pace one decides for themselves.”

~ Chandra Sekhar, Failure Race: A story never told before

Fixed!

What have I learned? 

allow myself to listen 

to my busy tangled thoughts

but too much information!!

I’m two generations too late 

to deal with it all.

frustration and fear steps in - 

scammers are out to disrupt my life.

my mind an out of control 

squirrel cage when I’m at home

Searching in vain for solutions: 

I should be able to do this myself!

Each possible solution tossed aside:

I need to talk to a human being

I need to know that human being 

I need to trust that human being

Who do I talk to, know and trust.

Oh! My grandson!

And he’s the right generation!

No scammers

Merely suggestions of a scam afoot.

Fixed ~ I can breathe…….

“Anxiety is a thin stream of fear trickling through the mind. 

If encouraged, it cuts a channel into which all other thoughts are drained.”

~ Arthur Somer Roche

The Problem with a Dog

The Problem with a Dog

Oscar, their Blue Heeler, sat beside the bed, watching his friend sleep. Philomena stirred, turned her head towards Oscar. Her hair fell over her face. Oscar whined. Philomena lifted her head. “Oscar, get up here. I’m not ready to get up yet.” He just whined, pushed his cold nose to hers, and swiped her face with his drool-y tongue. “Yuck! Oscar! Don’t do that!” She wiped her face with her wrinkled sheets. “I’m sorry, guy. I didn’t mean to yell at you. You know I hate that……..I guess you don’t even know what I’m talking about.” She rolled away from him and pulled her quilt over her head. “Maybe he’ll go away.” She hardly had the words out of her mouth when Oscar leapt on the bed and snuggled up against her back, pushing her to the other side. If he could have said anything it would be “ f she’s not getting up then I’ll just crowd her out.” Oscar was proud of his cleverness when it came to getting people out of bed. All he really wanted was a jogging partner and Philomena was the best. She’d been gone too long, her parents only took him for walks and her brother, Phil was always too tired after work. He’d been out in the back yard when she finally got home yesterday. Apparently her parents left him outside on purpose, so he wouldn’t get crazy excited when she came in the door. When they did let him in, she’d already gone to bed. He just sat at the foot of the stairs waiting for her to come down to take him for a run. His ears perked up at the slightest sound, then he’d sigh and stretch his muzzle out on his paws. He dozed off and on all night, but when he heard the birds and the cat being let out, he went upstairs, nosed her door open and sat by her bed. “Okay, okay! I’m up….sort of. You were going to let me fall on the floor, weren’t you?” She scratched his ears and gave him a big hug. “I missed you, Oscar! Should we go for a run? Or did you get too lazy while I was away?” She got dressed while she talked with him. He could hardly sit still. He knew the word ‘run’ was a good word! Tugging on her shoes, she said “I have to get something to eat first. I missed my supper last night!” Oscar whined as if he knew what she was saying. At least to him that didn’t sound good. He hadn’t heard the word ‘leash’ yet, but she was going downstairs. So maybe? Breakfast for her was cold chicken from the night before and a glass of orange juice. “Okay, boy. Where’s your leash?…….Look at you, you’ve got it already!” She clipped it onto his collar, made sure there were poop bags in the little plastic bone on his leash, picked up her water bottle and said “Let’s go!…….Oops, just wait a minute.” Poor Oscar looked worried. Had she changed her mind. “I just need to leave a note for mom and dad. She scribbled a note on the pad of paper her mother always kept on the table. “Be back in about an hour. Oscar and I are out for a run.”

~~~~~

It felt so good. The air was fresh and moist. Not a cloud in the sky. Jogging along the path through the park, they were the only two out this early. Oscar was as happy as a dog could be. While she was away, he had moped about the house. When her parents did call him for a walk, he did go but didn’t try to chase every squirrel he saw. For the first couple of days, he didn’t even eat. But after a while he was hungry. Rita, Philomena’s mom, finally tempted him with some steak. She had barbequed steak one night and noticed him sniffing the air. That was always her signal to either shoo him from the kitchen or patio, or spoil him with a piece of meat. Because he hadn’t been eating it was the latter this time. After that he did eat, not as much but at least he wasn’t skin and bones when Philomena got home. Her brother had managed to get him out for a run a couple of times on his days off, but wondered what would happen if she did leave Hartley for University. He didn’t know how long he’d be on the Island. All these thoughts were rolling around her mind as she jogged. In the brief time she’d had the night before with her parents, she had learned about Oscar’s mood while she was away, but didn’t know that Phil had been giving leaving some thought. So here was something else planted in her path. Her faithful friend, Oscar. She’d had him since he was a puppy. Five years old now, he still had a good long life left. “So, Oscar, what are we going to do?” She stopped in mid jog and got down to his level. All he did was lick her face. She didn’t seem to mind this time….until she pushed him away and told him ‘No!’ She picked up his leash again and they started their jog again. Philomena glanced at her watch. “Time to get home, buddy. We both need our breakfast and I really need to talk with mom and dad. We didn’t get much time last night. I’ve got some more thinking to do.” Oscar was just glad she was home and would do anything for her.

~~~~~

“The bond with a true dog is as lasting as the ties of this earth will ever be.”

~ Konrad Lorenz

The UnKnown

I’m not going to sugar coat this. I am scared. Not all the time. When the fright seems to have passed, it really has moved very quietly to the farthest reaches at the back of the oldest part my brain. I believe that’s better known as the lizard brain. The part of the human brain that acts on survival instinct rather than reason. Lizards are really very beautiful critters. Their dappled and very thick skin. Big, blinking eyes. A wide mouth that almost seems to grin. I rather like them. But they, like many animals, act only on instinct. I like reason. I want to know the why of things. How can I work with something or should I set it aside? But that’s not the lizard brain thing. When lizard brain takes over then it seems time to hibernate, to dash away from real or perceived danger. The really sneaky part of that lizard brain ~ while I am asleep it creeps forward and greets me in the morning.

To counter that, there are strategies that so many others have taught me. Some of those people have left this earth, many are still in this viral thing with me, just as your family and friends are in this viral thing with you. Changing the silence in my home has always been a good thing ~ CBC and Michael Enright podcast Sunday Morning; Mary Hynes on Tapestry ~ an interview with Rabbi Kushner; contacting family and friends to know how they are coping……..any form of electronic connection. So many other activities popped up in my email basket. All of them respecting social distancing or self isolation. Walking in the sunshine this morning, cooking, cleaning, reading, viewing a history/documentary site on YouTube…….

Born and raised on a farm five miles from my hometown, we were isolated to a degree, when I was growing up. We were distanced from community but it was always accessible ~ even if it was to go to school. That was normal. Once living in the city, community has been all around us. We have coffee shops for visiting; restaurants for sharing meals ~ or someone else’s cooking; libraries with hundreds if not thousand of books. Now we are being asked, strongly asked, to distance or isolate from each other. And with very good reason. The transmission of this viral thing could very likely make us all very ill if we let it go unchecked.

So. What am I afraid of?  Not knowing past this minute. Or. What am I grateful for? So many things and people. For each of us it will be different given our life situation. For now, I have a clean refrigerator (that’s one thing I did this morning) with food to be cooked, a roof over my head, family and friends at a touch of this keyboard. Rabbi Kushner says that it’s not the situation but how we respond to the situation. Bless all of you out there in this crazy old world!

“Scared is what you’re feeling. Brave is what you’re doing.”

~ Emma Donoghue, Room

Group Dynamics II

Now that the rest of us are awake! 

Against my better judgment, I’ve decided to do another Group Dynamics piece. I really didn't think there would be another opportunity so soon. Silly me. One question I left you with yesterday was what would occur when I went to bed last night. I struggled with keeping the kitten - present name Willie or William - with me in one bedroom, door closed and my grand-dogs, Eva and Percy would sleep in the living room area. Somehow that did seem right as Eva and Percy traditionally sleep with me: present pack leader and ‘grandma’.  But would that be a problem to leave Willie in his little play area - which he, with great agility, climbs out of to dash across to the sofa, curtains…..well you get the picture. But then, he would sleep. Wouldn’t he? 

My ultimate solution was to leave my bedroom door open, let my grand dogs assume their usual places on the bed and keep my toes and fingers crossed to allow freedom of movement for all of us. Twelve week old Willie would come with me at the head of the bed and ….sleep? In light of the amount of sleeping done throughout the day, I was not hopeful. I was correct. Consequently, although Eva and Percy slept fairly soundly, I however was awakened by a little velcro tongue licking my arms, my face and at least once inside my left ear. (I really should clean my ears out more often). Kitten naps were taken on my chest, with tail in my face, and loud kitten purring or on top of my head now and then. There was an occasional hiss when a dog raised a sleepy head. Needless to say it was an interesting night. Willie, my very busy little grand kitty, has still been busy but seems to be losing energy. Poor little guy is probably tired!

“But there was a kitten on my pillow, and it was purring in my face 

and vibrating gently with every purr, and very soon, I slept.”

~ Neil Gaiman

Passing the Edge

Intriguing experiments are often done at home, usually not accompanied by double blind studies or are ever peer reviewed. I can say I do feel rather blind when I ask myself the question:  ‘I wonder if…….’  As for peer reviews, when it comes to attempting a new culinary challenge, I’ve had many guests ~ friends and family ~ that have provided me with a degree of peer review. Always polite, their truth of these culinary results is often in question. Especially when I know that a dish was too salty, or missing something else, bread too tough, or not strong enough to support the thinnest sandwich. 

Scientific experiments begin with a question, followed by background research and then comes the hypothesis. Clear steps to define procedure, trouble shooting, re-experimentation, results that support or do not support a hypothesis. A ‘home’ experiment really has the same steps - usually beginning with the question: ‘I wonder if…..’ There are times when I do some cursory background research, but when the experiment is about my own abilities there are times even I seem not familiar with them and there is no data base to delve into ~ except maybe years of journals, but journals do not typically provide an index. A much too time consuming bit of research, I have tried and dispensed with it. (Another experiment) But, there is usually a gut instinct that I know the answer. My curiosity often is that I want to find out if I am actually able to answer my own question. Returning to the issue of food preparation, I may wander through my cookbooks for possibilities. The best cookbooks are the ones with pencilled in side notes by previous cooks. I seldom have a hypothesis, as a hypothesis is an educated guess about how things should work. Once again, in my own home, testing my own abilities, if education about home and food is missing from my personal data base, that hypothesis merely becomes a ‘what if?’.

My longest running experiment has been this blog, Standing Still Slowly. I started it in December 2011, at a time when my mood was extremely low, I was relatively new to Victoria and was in new stages of early friendships. My question? I wonder if I can write and post one small piece a day for one year. That year has telescoped into just over seven years. I have learned so much about word crafting, and developed a daily practice for writing. Being accountable to myself and, with much appreciation, to those of you who read my posts regularly has been a real learning curve for this home experiment - no one to set rules for me. From poetry to essay, prose to story with the occasional rant thrown in, I’ve written daily despite my circumstance or my mood. I have included memorials to so many precious family and friends that have passed from this world since opening Standing Still Slowly. On days when circumstance has prevented me from writing a new piece, I have reposted from my personal blog data base.

My new experiment is: ‘I wonder if I can maintain and, at the same time, develop my writing practice both long hand and blog posts on a daily basis for this first year of retirement.’ I feel confidant that I have the ability and the authenticity to dig deeper into this most intriguing experiment, creating a richer data base for any future personal research.

“Life is a concept, like the “universe”, that expands

 as soon as we reach what we think is its edge.”

~ Kamand Kojouri,  author, poet

Vanishing Acts

Completing the business portion of this little get-away, I stood outside the small, completely non-threatening, brick building housing the Social Security office here in Bellingham. Do I call a taxi? Or do I walk? Because it was only 9:30 and the sky furnace had not cranked up the heat yet, walking seem preferable. I turned on cell phone’s GPS function to see if a walk would be doable. It was a bit far, but I really needed to shake off the tension of the morning. Walking has always been therapy for me - especially for shaking off tension - so away I went. 

The route that the GPS had laid out for me was through quiet residential areas. It wasn’t long before any thought of government offices and officers, applications and ID documents, vanished in the warm summer morning. Tidy, well kept homes and yards suggested comfortable middle class residents. Tomatoes planted on an east facing side of a modest home showed a much greener thumb than mine. I envisioned many pints of tomatoes from that well nourished crop. An expansive community rose garden on a corner lot, drying as the day warmed up, still had many lovely blooms despite the dry conditions. A small detour into a garden center presented an interesting water feature. Against a brick wall, galvanized steel watering cans at measured and different heights demonstrating a real trickle down effect, the water pooling in a small water trough. Then, as I got closer to my hotel, I passed a long stretch of wild and overgrown blackberries, some of them ripe enough for me to snack on as I walked past. 

Now the thermostat was reaching too warm for this amount of walking. My mind, buzzing with anxiety at 9:15a.m., by 10:00 a.m. was only longing for the cool water of the small hotel swimming pool and a big glass of cold water. I was really breaking a sweat! As far as any worries bouncing around my head yesterday? Vanished. Gone. Pool time, out for lunch, reading, taking a nap, more reading, out for coffee, listening to authors .......a gentle afternoon fading into evening.

“Sometimes it’s not the strength but gentleness that cracks the hardest shells.”

 ~ Richard Paul Evans, Lost December

Photo on Facebook page.

World Refugee Day

Today is World Refugee Day, a day for raising awareness about the plight of refugees and displaced persons around the world. Reports this year are that there are more refugees globally than in any year past. Images of families and whole communities moving nomadically across the globe to find safety. Emotional and physical safety, in countries where they can breathe freely and live freely.

I have moved several times in my life, but moving from one place to another, is just not even remotely like the movement of a refugee. I have been able to choose my destination, choose the work I will be doing, choose what grocery store I will shop at and rest at night in safety. A person who is a refugee is ‘a person who has been forced to leave their country in order to escape war, persecution, or natural disaster’. Discovering the details that each individual, family and community face are challenges that each new country must meet with compassion and concern - not just for the refugees but for their citizens. Refugees are moved involuntarily, they are turned away from borders, they are put in camps and shelters never knowing if they will have enough warmth, food or bathroom facilities. The very fabric of families and communities are torn - not just ripped a little bit in one corner, but violently ripped apart and trashed. Heart and soul. 

It is easy to think of refugees coming only from Europe, Africa or Asia. Even though we welcome refugees and immigrants into our communities, it seems somehow distant. Someone else’s problem. It’s not really that close. But here on our own continent? Unfortunately, there is similar turmoil not that far from our own borders in the past week. I have felt helpless to do anything but push a ‘share’ button hoping that many others will do the same so that the world knows that refugees are not from across the pond, but are here with us as well as the political machinations that create the walls and dams to manage those that are seen as problems rather than human beings in need.

“Taking Mom’s hand, I whispered “Are we really safe, here?””

~ Alwyn Evans, Walk in My Shoes

Body Talks

Respect your body. Listen to your body. Two phrases we’ve all heard over many years. I feel I have been pretty good at that. Now it’s time to dig deeper for just a little more respect and listening. Nothing serious at all. In fact to look at my foot, it look perfectly normal. No swelling, no bruising and no redness - and I'll not bless you with a photo of my foot. The solution, accompanying the message, is to not put any weight on the poor dear. Did I break a teeny tiny bone in my foot? And if I did, when did I do it? Getting an x-ray for a big - or little - reveal may not tell me anything. Discovering the why of the ‘no weight bearing’, will not change the message. Given it’s my foot, discovering the why of the ‘no weight bearing’, will not change the solution, either. But I'll see the doctor tomorrow anyway. 

“There is always the question why 

And there is always life, 

which doesn’t need an answer.”

~ Dejan Stojanovic

Entitlement

After working through four shifts when the body has grown weary, the mind emptied of words, the only solution is some Sofa Time along with gratitude for the time and motivation to rest.

“A day of Rest is always needed.”

~ Solange nicole

- Personal Archaeology search returns tomorrow.

Progress Report

Just over two weeks ago I set about developing some personal guidelines for Daily Planning. Setting a plan to actually get a particular writing project well on it’s way to completion was my goal. From my blog of March 5, 2018 this is the second draft of daily planning:

Guidelines for Daily Planning

1. Be prepared

2. Allow for flexibility

3. Balance project work with puttering

4. Be alert for busy work

5. Set a timer - begin with 25 to 45 minutes.

The short form of this tongue in cheek report is that, while I did accomplish more on my project from that beginning, the Dreaded Drift set in. Partly because of my own guidelines! After a couple of days - or was it at least a week - I recognized the downward pull of this drift and thought. Always a dangerous thing as it wraps around my legs and feet and ties up my hands. At least the drift stopped. But this time, I decided to eyeball this Dreaded Drift. What the heck was going on? I had good intentions. I’ve had a ton of good intentions in my life. Some have met with a successful outcome. Too many have not.

Number 1 - Be prepared - was not a problem. That is actually something learned in nurses training for doing dressing changes. Know the severity of the wound and the complexity of the dressing. Read the policy and procedure manual, gather the equipment needed for the dressing change. Explain to the patient the procedure…………In this case, the wound is my writing project and still in a very wounded state. I have read many, many books on writing and have learned the procedures needed. I’ve gathered my equipment. As I write this, I am surrounded by my preferred pens, my basket of writing things - not sure of all the contents, and my pile of wounded project pieces.  That last one though - explain to the patient. I guessed the patient would be me and in that light I have spent the last couple of weeks, observing me. Observing my daily habits. Seeing if my guidelines are workable or just a lovely list of words with numbers in front of them.

Number 2 - Allow for flexibility - I am nothing if not flexible. After all I’ve been doing yoga, a very basic yoga, for more than a couple of decades. Can’t touch my toes without bending my knees, but I’m not in bad shape. When flexibility gets as soft as a wet spaghetti noodle, everything slides away and is just mucky. Writing, in my opinion, should never be sitting and grinding through an entire hour or more unless there is inspiration. If there is inspiration, it is not a grind. Just now, I felt stuck on that last sentence, so got up walked toward the window, talked kindly to one of my plants and then returned to the keyboard. Flexibility. 

Number 3 - Balance project work with puttering. Well, I’d be working on some reviewing or some editing and I wanted to tidy the kitchen, or empty the garbage, or any of a number of things. But! I was good. I recognized it as a temptation and a distraction, so I faithfully stayed put at my work table.

Number 4 - Be alert for busy work. This one seemed to be a problem. There does seem to be a difference in puttering and busy work, but so far I’ve been unable to define it for myself. The results of not knowing the difference was that I developed a very, very untidy home! That changed yesterday when I knew my house cleaners were coming in. Not wanting them to have to clean up my untidyness before they did the cleaning we agreed on, I dumped things on my bed, on my card table, on my sofa…..any flat surface that didn’t need dusting. Tidying up after myself is a puttering/busy work task that I won’t procrastinate on.

5. Balance: Do you think I got a little unbalanced in the past couple of weeks? It looked pretty unbalanced in here, and I felt unbalanced as I looked around me each day.

6. Set a timer:  This has always been a good practice for me when I’m hitting the restart button for any project I’m doing. After I get moving, I find it can be an irritant, so I will turn it off. I use the one on my cell phone so I can change the ring tone if I would like a more pleasant or upbeat tone.

I have since added the term ‘anchor habits’ to this grouping. They are daily behaviours connected to my soul. Behaviours and beliefs with the solid feeling of rightness. One of them is this daily blog. I am grateful to all of you that read my musings. 

“I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way.”

~ Carl Sandburg

Don’t forget!  March is Epilepsy month with Purple Day for Epilepsy on March 26 each year.

Keeping It Simple

To describe that moment when one is neither awake nor asleep is a wee bit difficult. Like clearly defining the space between one tick of the clock and the next. I felt that space this morning. At 3:30 am. And tried to ignore it. Shifting my pillows, pulling blankets up over my eyes so even the faintest morning light would be blotted out, hoping my mattress would somehow sooth me back to sleep - none of it effective. It was a push pull situation that required a simple solution when all other solutions failed. Turn the light on, get out of bed and read - napping can come later. Simple solutions always put right any power struggle.

“Make the best use of what is in your power, 

and take the rest as it happens.”

~ Epictetus