Timeout

What do you do about time?

Bunny taking a timeout on my back patio

I envy kids and the opportunity they have for a “timeout”. Most think of it as a punishment for misbehaving. You have to earn the timeout by doing something that is looked upon as going against a desired behavior. If we were smart as kids we would leverage them to gain space and moments of time for thinking freely about nothing. Staring at an empty space and concentrating on letting go of pent up emotions that no longer help us be our true selves. If I had little kids right now I would teach them to do just that with the hope they would thank me later as adults. Well, I can imagine that would happen. Reality might be something of a different scenario.

My kids are used to having a mother who thinks a bit differently about most things. I coaxed my daughter into taking a Tai Chi class with me when she was about 13 or so. The instructor turned off the lights and we were instructed to see if we could see auras. My daughter was a good sport about the whole thing. She wouldn’t say she enjoyed the class but she didn’t refuse to go either. I did see her aura and it was blue, now that I think about it. How fitting as she is a surgical nurse.

My aura was mostly yellow. My daughter did say she saw it but not while in the presence of others. She was thirteen afterall…lol.

I wish I could stop time now and again. Not turning back time. I don’t feel that would help me much as I have learned a great deal from how I spent my life. I just want a pause function to help me catch up. I know I am the accountant for my clock and yet some days it gets away from me before I realize “time is up”. I just can’t seem to catch a break some days and end up being late for everything. I have learned to accept these days and triage them rather than try to fix them. What can I cancel? What can I do today that will help me get back on track tomorrow? I forgive myself for getting off track. I don’t let myself off the hook. I know that I can’t change today but tomorrow is a different story.

I have never been one to “be on time”. It’s hit or miss for me. On occasion I am early and most often I am scrambling to just barely make the target second. I have studied time management, created and facilitated many workshops and courses on effective use of time. Here I am though, thinking about how I manage my time. My credits spent and my expectations of future use.

I used to create a three month calendar with important dates and times on it. I had a big bulletin board with project dates and deadlines on it as well as personal goals and estimated completion points highlighted. It was my measurement of time in a very visual way. I could look at it and see how my life was progressing. I had my major trips planned, my small getaways marked. Exercise charts, weight loss goals and eating schedules all planned out with details attached.

 In the last year I turned off all my tracking and planning devices. My Fitbit, my watch, my phone trackers, my GPS, my internal clock and anything else I thought would force me to keep track of my time. No quarter calendar with categories and goals. 

 It was a year of freedom. It was my “Time out”.

My year to just exist in whatever circumstances I found myself being drawn to. It’s been interesting to say the least. I started the year with a push to get the blog and podcasting going with Sharon. Then I found myself drawn to the ashram for almost three months. I went out to Vancouver after that to spend time hiking and getting to know my daughter a little bit better. After that I came back to buy the van and started planning out how I wanted to make it mine. My sister in-law and I spent some time hiking in the National Parks and figuring life together.

My brother and I worked diligently on the van for the rest of the summer and fall. We are almost done! I know my brother a bit better now and I am beginning to see life through his eyes, just a bit. 

I banked on having an unlimited amount of time to spend with loved ones and friends only to realize those moments kept in the vault and not used evaporate. They have no shelf life. You either use it when the spirit moves you to do so or you lose out on the dividends attached. Hard lesson to discover. I have been lucky enough to follow intuition often and redirect my time to focus on their needs and share what moments they had left. 

The year is ending soon. How time has flown by so quickly….lol. A whole year gifted to me to just be. I am looking toward 2022. Can I collect enough pauses, held breaths and brief suspension of knowing or caring to carve out my “timeouts”? Then use those precious gifts to extend that hold on my most inner thoughts and feelings?

Those “timeouts” are crafted when all I feel is joy and the gift of knowing I am alive and held in light and love by the universe.

Namaste

Council Of Community

I have decided to start therapy. For many reasons. I have had a couple of sessions already and it’s been enlightening. Betterhelp.com is trying something new by connecting people all over the world with a group therapy session. The therapist is an expert in the related field and you can choose from many topics and time slots. I thought I would give it a try.

What have I learned so far? 

There are plenty of others suffering the same kind of feelings, issues and trauma that I am in this world. Not surprising, just comforting to know.I can help by telling my story and being open to discussion. I get help by telling my story and being open. I struggle with being vulnerable. Trust is a topic I have mentioned numerous times on this blog and my lack of it. Somehow it’s easier to trust and be vulnerable with strangers than it is with your intimate network of support. 

The group I attended yesterday was on managing grief.  A question was posed about why join a group like this now? It was clarified with what it is about the upcoming holidays that makes dealing with death so much harder? Well darn, I hadn’t really made the connection between the time of year and my choice of groups until it was highlighted. 

Christmas is a challenge for me at the best of times. I am not a big fan of the whole concept or all it has come to represent. When the kids were younger I did get caught up in making sure they got all they wanted and more. I remember being young and the reality that there were seven of us to buy for. My parents did amazing by getting us each at least one thing close to what we had asked for. I look back now on the way I acted and wish I would have been more grateful for their effort. I guess that’s why we grow to have insight and awareness. You have to experience the challenges in life to understand the depth of selflessness. 

My sister, who passed away, loved Christmas. She went as far as to set up several trees in the basement of one of her houses. She called it her Christmas forest. We used to sit in her forest and drink wine. It was lovely and I miss her enthusiasm for the season. 

The grief session brought up memories I had not examined for a while. My brother in law died on Christmas morning in 2014. I was there with my sister and their family. It was one of my saddest Christmases and yet it was one of my most peaceful. As we sat in his room listening to him struggle for breaths, the sound of each breath was a gift. One more moment, one more opportunity to tell him how much he was loved. 

The Christmas before my mom died we decided to make cookies for everyone. I always tend to go overboard and buy enough ingredients to make cookies for a hundred people. Monster cookies are everyone’s favorite and thanks heavens the cookie dough freezes well. What a wonderful day I had with my mom. Doing what she loved to do which was spending time with her girls and making something to give to someone else. I baked my last roll of cookie dough last Christmas. It was emotional to let it go of something that linked me so directly with my mom.

The group was a big help to give me common ground with others who showed up to talk about the same thing. We were all there to gain support and realize our stories were different but there is an abundance of commonality to discover. Being sensitive to family who get upset when you try to talk about your feelings of grief is hard. Most people don’t want to talk about it let alone see you shed tears. If you hold it in then it becomes a waiting game. The level of the dam rises until the pressure can’t be contained anymore. Somethings gotta give.  The timing of the burst will happen at the worst circumstances. Releasing the pressure is healthy and required to heal the heart.

It was a good session. It was hard and at first, uncomfortable but necessary and freeing.

My heart is full of gratitude as the season unfolds. I am grateful that I have many memories of my loved ones who have passed. Many Christmases celebrated with them even though I would have rather stayed home and let the holidays pass by unopened. Those moments of sharing and expressing joy are my most precious gifts now. I can open them anytime, anywhere to help give me peace when I need it.

I would recommend Betterhelp.com to anyone who needs an affordable platform to get help dealing with anything. It has helped me to appreciate the value of having a community available to reach out to.

The Difference A Year Makes

I was reading through our blogs from the past year and came across “Bah…humbug,or not”. I was NOT feeling Christmas last year. It felt like an obligation I had to endure because it was expected of me.

This year, it’s completely different. Initially, I wasn’t going to decorate because it’s just me living here most of the time. Martin and Nathan (my son) aren’t really “into” Christmas, so it wouldn’t matter to them. Yet, as we moved into fall, I felt I *wanted* to decorate.

I found this “pencil tree” on sale. It’s perfect for my space. It holds all my ornaments, which is a feat unto itself! I have an ornament I made in Kindergarten, all the ornaments my grandmother made for me, and all the ornaments my mom bought for my son over the years so his first Christmas tree has something from her. Every trip I take, I bring home an ornament representative of where I’ve been. I even have one or two that were given to me from students when I was a teacher. I really didn’t think this narrow tree would hold all of them and am delighted it does.

Christmas isn’t the big event it’s been most of my life. Mom would spend weeks making chocolates, baking, writing cards and working herself into a tizzy of stress. Every year, she wanted to have “the perfect Christmas” and it always drove her depression to its lowest depths. Rather ironic, really, but not uncommon.

This year, we are changing things. Instead of buying gifts for EVERYONE, we have drawn names. It’ll be the first Christmas in, probably, twelve years I am not hosting. My niece and nephew-in-law have bought a beautiful home and will be taking over that function. The goal is to have less stress and more fun.

It will be fun. We can’t get everyone together in December, so we are celebrating Ukrainian Christmas in January. My nephew-in-law is Chinese, so instead of a turkey, he is cooking an authentic Chinese dinner. Nathan, at 19, is now the youngest in the family. We can play games such as “Cards Against Humanity” and spend time together as adults.

I’ll help make the krumkake this year because I *want* to, not because it’s expected. I’ll help make the lefse for the same reason. It’s amazing how removing the sense of obligation is helping me enjoy the season and all that goes with it.

It’ll be the first Ukrainian Christmas with home made Chinese food and Norwegian treats. I can’t wait.

Evergreen

I have been taking a creative writing class online the past few weeks. The class’s main objective is to find a way to pull your memories of life experiences and write about them. I was intrigued by one of the exercises. The objective was to go to a website that matched music to a certain year. Put in the year that you turned 13. A magical year am I right??? Pick one of the songs that comes up for that year. Listen to it and then take some time and write about what comes up based on the song choice. I scanned the songs and came back to one of my childhood favorites. I loved the movie “A Star Is Born” with Barbra Streisand and Kris Kristofferson. I know this isn’t the original movie version nor the most recent. Let’s just say it has been worthy of a few remakes. Each time the musical score has been just as good as the movies. Ok back to the song. 

Evergreen. Such simple and straightforward lyrics. Appealing to a 13 year old girl’s desires and ideals of what love should feel and look like. The song still has it, even after all this time has passed. 

“Spirits rise and their dance is unrehearsed” 

There are no guarantees when it comes to matters of the heart. We put a whole lot of trust in another being without any way to know the final outcome. It’s what makes the dance so inviting. The thrill of taking a chance to have a partner that shares your journey.

“Time won’t change the meaning of one love”

I am not sure I agree with the songwriter here. Time does change or at least clarifies what love means between two people. The longer you are together the more density is added to it. When you are a teenager love means instant gratification, adoration, ego driven rewards. As time passes shared hardships, support, respect, feeling valued and heard all raise what is meant by one love.

“Ageless and ever, evergreen”

What is meant by evergreen?  According to many definition sources, the gist is that it stays constant in color no matter the season or conditions. Doesn’t falter and stays universally and continually relevant. Wow, that’s a tall order to fill don’t you think?

What if when we say “I do” we promise to never falter, never change our loyalty no matter what and pledge to stay relevant in each other’s lives?

The 13 year old brain thinks that would be very easy to do. Relationships at that age are mostly based on simple needs and wants. Add layers of experience, years of twists, turns and disappointments to the joy of having kids, building your sanctuary together and here we are many moons later. 

My 57 year old self thinks a little differently about love these days. I believe it is constantly changing. I am not convinced it’s evergreen. For me it’s more of a Larch. In a state of adapting and evolving to meet the current circumstances.

If you are interested in doing this exercise the course is called “Pulling Memory Into The Present” hosted by Ashley C Ford on Skillshare.

What We Have Here Is A Failure To Communicate

I don’t alway get the answers I want but I do get the answer I need….

I have spent most of my adult life in a profession where it was my job to translate the needs, feelings and wants of others into easy to do actions. Help customers to first, identify what it was they really wanted and then guide them to fruition. I would like to say I was pretty good at it. I had a pretty loyal clientele and many happy business partners and collaborators. It worked in my personal life too. I helped family and friends many times to figure out tricky situations while we worked through possible solutions. I listened. I watched for clues for unexpressed feelings of what else might be going on under the radar. I think I am pretty empathic and intuitive most times when it comes to helping others.

Despite all of this knowledge, understanding of others and the ability to help others figure out their best way forward, I find myself stuck in my own cycle of failure to communicate. It’s very difficult for me to express how I feel and stick with it when others challenge my position.

I remember as a child of about 11 trying to stop my dad from belittling my mom. I saw how much it hurt her. I thought if she can’t stick up for herself then I will. I will tell him it’s not nice to talk like that to anyone.  I was met with an indifference. From my dad I expected it but I was shattered to feel it from my mom. She played down the verbal abuse and agreed with my dad that adults fight. It’s healthy to argue. Maybe so and yet the difference is in the words used. Calling someone stupid or lacking the ability to think for themselves is unproductive nor is it healthy. Years of reinforcing the narrative leave the psyche tattered and worn down. Having a front row seat has left me with my own trauma and scars.

It has also left me with an inability to trust my feelings. To be firm on my wants and the confidence to express them to those closest to me. Why is it so easy to facilitate for others and not myself? I have a narrative in my head that is pretty negative. It goes along the lines of “you should put others’ needs before yours as they are more important”. “You don’t deserve this or you are selfish when you push your desires on others”. I recognize that it’s ok to express yourself and want to have others respect and value you. The reality is the thoughts in my head are sometimes stronger than my desire to be right or even heard let alone take a firm position.

My sister and I decided to smudge ourselves yesterday then do a tarot reading. Smudging helps to clear the air with sage and then invite positive energy in with sweetgrass. It feels amazing and helps to get specific about your question and deepen understanding. The method we used is one of my favorites. It’s called the Celtic Cross ( my version). You arrange the cards in a cross-like formation with concerns and clarification(middle), past (left), present (top), future (right) and additional clarification or insights (bottom). The deck we used was the Archangel one my sister had. 

My last card was the Ace of Michael. What stuck with me was the last sentence on the card. “Clear up communication problems with others”. Well darn, it’s not like I haven’t been trying that my whole life sigh… easier said than done for me apparently.  

At what point do you just express yourself and then let the chips fall where they may. The key, I think, is to be prepared for the consequences of your desire to be heard and seen. You may get the words out but there is no guarantee they will be valued or wanted. What are you prepared to give up in order to live your life authentically?

Right now? I am not sure. Stay tuned if you are interested in helping me discover a way to communicate that brings me peace and a sense of well being.

Blind Spots

I was driving out to work on my van that is being stored at my mothers old house. The road is familiar. I have been on it hundreds of times. It’s morning and the sun is shining. I have my Tim’s coffee next to me and running over in my head what can be done today to get us closer to using the van. My mind is exploring options and not really paying attention to the road ahead of me. I am driving a little fast and mostly on auto pilot. All of the sudden before me a hawk swoops its wing in front of my windshield. It comes at me from the south going north. I am driving east from the west. The dark brown hawk lands in the field on the other side of the road and stares at me as I slow down and look back at it. Hmmmm….what was that about?

I slow down and start to pay attention to the road. I take nothing for granted and know that the hawk is trying to tell me something important if only I pay attention to its warning.

I come to a section of road that climbs a bit of a hill and then drops down the otherside. You can’t see over the hill until you get to the top. As I approach the top I see a lady running with her head down listening with earbuds in her ears. She is running on the wrong side of the road and heading straight for me. She doesn’t notice my car until I am almost 10 feet from her. Then she looks up a bit startled and proceeds to move over to the other side of the road and pass me by.

This particular backroad is usually empty this time of day. I can cruise to town without encountering a soul. Today I encountered the lady and then a man on a bicycle again coming toward me on the wrong side of the road. You just never know when you will not be able to see what is lurking in your blindspots.

Blindspots are an interesting occurrence. Since we can’t see what occupies that space we usually assume that there is nothing there. What if there is? Now I know my example isn’t necessarily depicting a blindspot. It’s more about paying attention and focusing on the task at hand instead of multitasking. According to Google,studies show that only 2.5% of us are able to multitask successfully.

So why do we constantly think we can do it with success?

I can’t see what’s happening in my blindspots. I can use mirrors or ask someone for feedback to help me validate what occupies a space I think is empty. Whether that space be in my thinking, my views, my narrative, my memory or whether it actually is something physical. I am not that great at multitasking either. I do better completing something then starting something else.

The hawk was there to give me feedback that morning and I am very grateful for the heads up!

I have been contemplating doing more things one at a time and doing them to the best of my ability. Then I can move on to the next task with confidence that I am more likely to see what’s in my blindspots.

Afterall, what’s the rush?

About Face

A few weeks ago, my sister in law notified me that my face showed up on a Facebook page with someone asking if anyone could identify this person. My image was found on a cell phone I had lost on the summit of Mount Ward in the Crowsnest Pass. It was amazing that they had found the phone as I had lost it descending down on my butt over a mountain side of scree. Here is the remarkable part. I was up there in August of 2019. That’s over 3 years ago. Think back how much has changed in the last 3 years. For me? I lost my mom, I lost my job, COVID happened and I almost lost my sense of self.

As I look at the face staring out from the phone that shouldn’t be working, let alone sporting my face on the cover, I marvel at our ability for resilience. That woman captured is me but yet, is not me. She is restless and ready for change. She is tired and grieving over so much loss in the last few years. She is there with her two great nieces enjoying a warm summer day doing what she loves to do. Exploring uncharted territory and pushing herself to go further and harder.

Phone still works after 3 years!

Sometimes I am not sure where the strength comes from. It just appears and I am always grateful to the universe for providing it to me. I sat on the top of the summit enjoying the sun and view as the girls explored further up and around. I saw 3 crows in the distance. They were making a big racket and circling overhead. I watched them for a bit then noticed behind them that some big dark rain clouds were starting to form. Anyone who has been hiking in the mountains knows to start down when that happens. Hopefully you can outrun the storm, most often I am not that lucky. I was about to holler for the girls to come and they appeared ready to head out. I happened to look down and found the most unique rock I had ever seen. I had been thinking about the crows and their warning that the weather was about to change. The rock appeared to have a crow flying over the mountains on it. It was pale yellow with a black image of a crow. I picked it up and put it in my backpack. In hindsight, I wish I would have done the same thing to my phone which I placed in my coat pocket tied around my waist.

As the clouds got darker, we started to slide down on our backsides. It was treacherous and slow going. Over half way down I realized my phone wasn’t in my pocket anymore. There was no way I could go back up and try and find it. We had been zigzagging and moving over a large space of rock and debri. It could have been anywhere. Like a needle in a haystack. I resigned myself to either come back a different day or say “goodbye” to the pictures from that day.

I got a new phone and reclaimed quite a bit of my pictures, chats and music as I usually back up stuff to the cloud. I was missing the photos we had taken that day which was too bad. When I reloaded my messenger chats I was heartbroken to see my conversation with my sister who had passed away in 2016 wasn’t coming back up. It took some letting go to say “goodbye” to the conversation I had treasured.

Time goes by and I have had 3 phones since then. Every once in a while I would think about the phone and wonder if it was still alive. What view it had looking out over the barren terrain. Saying good morning to the crows and other creatures who passed by. My face is smiling out on that mountain side I thought. Never did I think it still worked after all that time.

I have been in contact with the mother of the guy who found it and will go pick it up some time soon. She said that several people had recognized the woman in the photo and let her know the phone belonged to me. The hat I am wearing I have taken on so many adventures. It’s kind of my signature look for exploring…lol.

Thinking about the phone and it’s adventures, I happened to glance through my messenger chats. I was drawn to the one with my sister, hoping that for some miraculous reason the conversation would reappear after all this time. I was amazed to see that it had. Everything was there again. My history with my sister has come back to me now. Years and years of conversation came tumbling down the mountain side to land at my feet.

Why now? So much has happened since 2016. I thought that was my low point but it wasn’t. Both of my parents died in the years after my sister’s passing. Despite all of the pain, grief and loss, I feel more alive today than ever before. I am living life on my terms in my own way. Choosing my adventures, love, spiritual paths and sense of self.

I am awake. I have lived many lives since I lost that phone. I am grateful for it’s reappearance to remind me to be grateful for what I have.

Once again the energy shifts and tilts the balance back.

I have a desire to put the phone back on the mountain. 

Stay tuned to see what I decide….lol

Love you all that keep reading our posts and coming along on our journeys through midlife.

Light and love.

We Are Family

I got my brother and sisters with me…

I decide to pull out the old rotten carpet out of the cab of the van only to discover that the floor has some serious looking rust spots. It’s been a couple of weeks since I came upon the damage and it’s been a cause for concern. My whole career has been based on solving problems. Taking complex learning and translating it into easy to follow steps for others to understand and use. This situation is no different. I got a hole and it needs to be fixed.

My sister and brother in law just happened to be down for the weekend. They are a handy pair. I have always admired my sister’s choice of professions. She had spent many years in the Canadian Air Force as a metal fabricator working on airplanes. I found out my brother in law has some experience with welding. My brother, well he is a jack of all trades and has been helping me with the project since day 1. So, in true project management fashion, I assembled the very competent team of experts who are up for the challenge and we get to work. 

With resources and know-how in place we decide a change of clothes is necessary to tackle the potentially dirty job. My sister bought my mom’s old house and some of the contents are still there. My mom’s coat still hangs in the closet next to the kitchen door. It’s coming up on the two year anniversary of my mom’s death in September. As I stand in her bedroom looking for something to wear in the closet I am overwhelmed with her presence. I take a couple of shirts off the hangers and smell them. Oh mom, they still smell like you. You are still here. Tears well up as I close my eyes for a moment. This is a pretty big hole we are trying to fix. Not just on the van floor but my heart. I hear my mom talking to me from other rooms as I walk through the house. She would call from the living room when you entered from the kitchen door to welcome you. Sometimes I can hear her voice echo through the space.

The family has had its share of challenges over the last few years and yet here we are coming together to problem solve and rebuild this van. I have heard you can’t choose your family. I am glad for that because you never know what you might need at any given moment. The universe is a way better judge on future needs than I am.

It takes some discussion and a few brainstorming sessions but finally we get to work patching the worn floor. Grinding away the rust where we can and applying new support when needed. I can’t help but make the comparison between the work on the van and work being done to heal our family relationships. You have to clear away the toxins that eat at your dynamics. Find new ways to communicate and come together. Mom would be ecstatic to see us all collaborating and getting along.

The van has helped us to find ways to connect again. It’s been a new beginning for me too. I am using tools I never thought I would have the confidence to even try. A little patience from my brother and determination to continue the work has made me excited about the possibilities for future projects and work.

We are family, I got my brother and sisters with me. I am truly blessed.

Me+Us+I+You=We

As a coach in my previous life in corporate banking, I became very accustomed to using first person pronouns to describe who was the owner of actions or feelings. I have been thinking about relationship dynamics and the intersections of “Me” to “US” and “I” to “You”. 

My daughter told my husband that we are both very stubborn people. I agree and we are both very strong in our opinions. We both have known we are very different and yet, in the past, have found ways to connect. As we get older and more set in our ways, it has become harder to compromise and find our way to a common grounding. I admit we have struggled and sometimes it feels easier just to throw in the towel and move on.

I can’t help but think I am not yet done learning all I can about myself and behaviors from this man. He challenges me in my core thinking. We expressed our feelings to each other in letters, texts and some verbal. I didn’t like what he said and he didn’t like what I said but we both listened, asked questions to clarify what we meant and then spent time trying to figure if we could still be compatible together. 

I get his points when he says that I feel I can express my feelings and he should respect and accept them because they are mine. He does stuff I don’t like, he says things I don’t want to hear. I asked him to apologize for things he has said to me and he asked if I feel like I should apologize for the way I feel and things I have said? 

I said “no” I meant what I said. At the time, he meant what he said too. So where does this leave the “US”?

I know that I respect him for his honesty towards me.

Can I keep the “ME” in “US”? We seem to be in different stages of life. I have decided not to go back to work anytime soon. He works full time. I want to travel and explore the world while our health is good and we are mobile. Can we create our own balance without driving each other crazy? We both have agreed we don’t know. We have been figuring it out one day at a time for over 36 years. For us, we know that we are at our best when we are connecting on every level. We travel well together, we have built a life together. We are unconventional in our partnership management system but so what?

Neither of us want to end this story yet so we have agreed to continue. To find ways to build our new chapters that include the “Me” in “US” and the “I” and “YOU in our “WE”

Blank Canvas

Starting from scratch. Am I crazy?

I sat in the van the other day and stared at its current state. My old thinking is still wanting to rule the day. The interior is good enough just do some cosmetic stuff and move on. I struggled with those sentiments for a few more minutes and then all the sudden the sledge hammer in my hand found a purpose. Before I knew it half the walls were down and the van had twice the space.

Sometimes you fight change until the urge to shift within just can’t handle it anymore. Picking the option that makes you feel like you have settled in life only delays things. It never really sits right until you do “that thing”. You know, that thing that is whispered in your ear over and over again. There was a wonderful lady I got to interview at the ashram named Jean Roberts. She wrote a book about her life as an island girl growing up in Grenada. How she grew up in oppression and decided to run away at a very young age.

I left home at 16 and lived with a couple of sisters. I worked and supported myself through high school. It seemed so much easier then to make decisions without worrying too much about how they affected others around you. The world revolved around my teenage life and I was creating canvases by the dozens. Thought nothing of painting over them and moving on.

I will be 57 in 2 months. It’s been a lifetime of changes. I am not my 16 year old self for sure. Thank heavens!

Sharon’s latest post talks about living adventures through my posts. It’s not lost on me how she and I are always peeking over the fence at each other. I envy her ability to make decisions about relationships and move forward in that regard. Put on her big girl panties and move into a better light. I understand the hesitation to make the first strokes on the canvas. I ask myself often what I am afraid of when it comes to being alone. If my partner doesn’t see my vision and has no desire or interest to explore the possibilities with me then ….what am I waiting for? A sign? Hmmm I have had plenty of those, a sledge hammer in my hand? I have one of those too? A push? Maybe.

My friend Sharon and I are at that place in life where our whole world is about to change. The post COVID blues I think. The universe is opening up again so now what?

For me? I have an empty canvas in the form of a tiny home to consider how “I” for the first time in my life want to create a haven just for me. Sharon has a new condo, new job and new life. I am excited for both of us to face our fears and build our confidence in ourselves. Maybe even build a bit of confidence in others. My brother has been helping me with the demolition. We have barely spoken over the last 40 years. Now we are collaborating almost daily. I am finding my voice and figuring out what I want to say. I am exploring new pallets and variations of light and color. It is changing my perspective for the good.

It’s healthy and positive to clear space. So many possibilities to explore now that the demolition has started.

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