Here in Canada, Thanksgiving falls on October 9th this year. A date which is rapidly approaching and I find myself calculating what more needs to be bought for dinner and when I have to pull the turkey out to thaw.
Turkey dinner is all fine and (usually very) good, but the point of Thanksgiving is to pause and express gratitude for the harvest (originally) and all the things we have. A time to stop and take stock of how much we really have in our lives.
Gratitude has become one of those words. Overused, too often to try to sell some service or thing. And when a word becomes one of those, it’s actual meaning seems to get lost in the buzz.
Because Gratitude is actually very important, provided it is combined with sincerity. It’s easy to say (or post) that you’re grateful for something or someone or some event. But are you actually feeling it? Are you really grateful for what you claim to be? Or are you merely caught up in the latest self-help trend?
What we are sincerely grateful for we are far less likely to take for granted. We’re more likely to remember to acknowledge its affect on our lives.
I know some things (people, events) are hard to feel true gratitude for. Blessings do come in some really obnoxious/unpleasant/upsetting disguises. Sometimes it’s a matter of doing the best we can now and finding the sincere gratitude in hindsight.
What are you sincerely grateful for in your life?
For myself, I’m incredibly thankful for my husband and all the ways he supports me and my work; for our beautiful, active, strong willed daughter; for my high strung fuzzball of a Bandit kitty; for all the resources I have to draw on to build my life and business; and for Life in Jesus Christ.
Sometimes all you can do is Breathe
I don’t remember exactly what I was looking at when this popped into my head. I’m fairly sure I was online, reading something someone had posted about their life going to pieces and being unsure what to do next. The specifics of the situation escape me, especially given how much of this kind of stuff I see daily.
Because lives fall apart all the time. Things, big or small, are lost. Plans fall through. What appeared to be a sure bet turns out to be anything but. I know I’m not the only one who feels like there is always “another shoe.”
And it’s all largely out of our control. Yes, some of these things trace, at least partially, back to the choices we’ve made. We can make the best choices we know how and life will still happen.
It’s all too tempting, when life sucks, to complain and blame and look for an external source to fix it all for us. But none of those things have any power to change what happened. They also have no power whatsoever to improve our future prospects. What they’re really good for is keeping us stuck.
What really needs to happen next is we need to breathe. Sometimes it’s all we can do.
One breath at a time
One step at a time
One day at a time
Cold season apparently.
No sooner did my daughter start public school again than she brought home a head cold and shared it with myself and her dad. If there was ever anything I really wish she would keep to herself and not share, it’s the colds and flus that go around public schools.
It’s really hard to concentrate enough to accomplish anything when my head is stuffed right up. Worse is not having any energy and needing to nap to survive the day. Add to that the self imposed guilt which comes with not even being able to keep on top of my usual day tasks.
Not that beating up on myself is going to make the cold go away any faster. Especially since I know stress is only going to make it hang around longer.
It’s hard to give myself permission to rest and recover and know that I will be able to catch up on all the things I can’t manage right now. So hard to not feel guilty over slowing down and allowing my body to heal.
I’m attempting something new this year.
For the past two years, I’ve been driving my daughter to and from school, for numerous reasons. This year I’m trying to walk with her, at least to school. I think she would like to walk both ways, but it’s fifty minutes, from the time we leave the house until I get home. I still don’t have the energy to attempt that more than once a day. Maybe by next spring, if life doesn’t go completely sideways on me yet again.
When we leave the house, we pass all kinds of trees with leaves now seriously turning yellow. There are yellow leaves on the front walk as well as up in the tree in the front yard. There are starting to be leaves on the sidewalks and a few in the school yard, although most of the trees on the school grounds are coniferous.
It’s definitely autumn here. Morning fogs (although still containing too much smoke), colourful leaves, back to classes. New routines and still wondering how all the things are going to settle this time.
Not something I’ve ever been good at, although I’ve gotten somewhat better in recent years.
Overwhelm, confusion, discombobulation
These things I know far too well and I know they serve to make life and decision making harder instead of easier. They sap my energy and cause me to throw my hands up in the air and try to quit.
Because in the overwhelm and confusion and all the crap those dredge up (fear, doubt, struggle) it’s hard to know what to do. I find too many decisions made under these conditions don’t turn out well. Because when I feel like I’m drowning in all this, I start looking for answers externally. And there are all kinds of answers thrown out there. Everyone has a solution to my problems. The problem is, those are their solutions.
It’s in the Stillness
Because when I grow still, when I seek quiet reflection time, I’m reminded that the answers I seek, the solutions I need, aren’t out there at all. All those external solutions aren’t for me. The answers to all the most important questions are inside and it’s only in the Stillness I have the ability to hear them clearly.
Be Still and Know
Sit and breathe and look inside. Sit and breathe and ask all the questions. Sit and breathe and Know the answers aren’t out in the world at all. They’re right there, inside you, waiting for you to stop and sit and breathe and ask.
This is where you learn what’s True for you.
This is where you will find all the Love you could ever need.
This is where you Know what you need to move forward.
And it will be scary and hard and you will want to quit and you won’t want to see or hear or feel. And you will be strongly tempted to give in to all the distractions around you. And then, if you remain still, it will get easier and life will flow far better. The flows will carry you higher and farther. The ebbs won’t freak you out as badly. And all the things you desperately long for will seem less impossible… maybe even feel more real, more achievable.
And you will find it easier to Be Still.
And all those external solutions which aren’t really for you anyway won’t seem nearly so appealing.
It’s just past the middle of August and it’s already feeling like autumn here. There are even yellow leaves all over the ground. Bonus, it’s nice and cool at night.
This is a pleasant change from too hot, too dry, and thoroughly smoked. That’s what most of the summer here has been like, especially in the wake of the wildfires still plaguing my home province. There are still people out of their homes and out of work. Still people who need places to stay. Undoubtedly many of them wondering how they will manage the transition to back to school when they’re so far from home and may not have a home to return to.
It’s weird to go online, especially on Facebook, and see people posting first day of school pictures already. It isn’t anywhere near September yet. The first official day of school here is September sixth. Children here get a bit over two months break. I don’t understand what anyone thinks there is to gain by shortening that time.
My daughter is back home after three weeks (ish) with her grandparents. I still have nearly three weeks (maybe more depending what I hear from her school) before she needs to be ready to go back to school. In the meantime, she’s already started one of her extracurricular classes and should be registered for the other next week.
I didn’t post last week because I spent last Thursday on the road, doing the approximately ten hour drive required to get from home to the Okanagan. Because, last Saturday, there was a party to celebrate my grandparents 60th wedding anniversary. And because it’s been nearly two years since I was last able to see most of that side of my family. Fortunately, the wildfires plaguing British Columbia this year weren’t an issue along the route we took.
Being down there, seeing family I haven’t seen in a while, learning things I never knew about my family’s history, visiting with family and old family friends… I wish I had more opportunity than it feels like I have now. I hate living so far away from them. Most of them don’t text or Skype. Telephone is hard for me, for several reasons. If we could see any clear way to do so, we would happily move closer to them.
When I was growing up, family and family history were all around me. Vacations were used to visit relatives and attend family reunions. Family stories were brought up all the time. I wish I could remember more of the stories I have heard. I wish I could’ve heard more from the people these things happened to. I’ve lost four of the six grandparents I knew as a child. The other two are into their 80s and not in the best of health, which was partly why the summer celebration of an anniversary which actually falls between Christmas and New Years.
Heritage is such a huge part of personal identity. Family and family history often serve as a tether… a place to go back to when life gets too overwhelming. It’s what we build on, whether better or worse, when we create our own lives and stories. It influences our perception of ourselves. It influences how we relate to all kinds of aspects of our lives.
I watch my daughter grow and learn and I wonder what she’s learning about the meaning and history of family. She’s grown up surrounded by grandparents and aunts and uncles (biological and named) and she’s hearing some of the stories, whether she understands them now or not. I think about what I would like her to learn, how to pass values to her, what she will think of it all once she’s old enough to seriously consider what she thinks of it all.
How do I tell my daughter what my life has been like and how it influences the way I’m raising her?
How do I tell my daughter all the things I would like her to know about family and life and her options for the future?
What will my legacy to my daughter be?
For nearly a week now, we’ve had heavy smoke in the air. There are fires to the east, south, and west of where I live. The province has declared a state of emergency as multiple towns are evacuated and thousands of people displaced. While smoky air makes for spectacularly colourful sunsets, it isn’t good for anything else. Certainly not for air quality and anyone who has breathing trouble.
I can’t imagine having to leave my home and know it might not be there when I get back. People are losing their homes… I’ve seen news footage of what appears to be an entire community burnt to the ground. They’re out of work, staying in temporary shelters of all kinds, dependent on the charity of others as they wait to hear when they can go back and see what’s left of their lives.
On the flip side, all kinds of people and organizations are stepping up to help. To work in the fire zones, trying to contain and extinguish the fires. To offer assistance to those in need of it. To open their homes to strangers in need of a place to stay. To gather resources to help rebuild what has been burnt to the ground. I love how situations like this bring out a kinder side of humanity.
I have extended family who live in the affected area. Some of them I’ve seen Facebook posts from and know the people, at least, are okay. Some I haven’t seen anything from and can’t help being concerned for. Undoubtedly there’s someone in the family who has heard, but I’m often out of the loop on family news (on that side especially) unless it crosses my Facebook feed.
Although the last couple days have been overcast, with just a touch of rain, the whole province desperately needs a few days of steady rain. Lightning is one of the major causes of wildfires and not something we need right now. A steady downpour would be much more helpful. (And to think only a couple months ago some of these communities were struggling with flooding and too much water.)
And I have one very selfish reason for wanting these fires out and the highways reopened. I want to make it to the party for my grandparents 60th wedding anniversary, which is going to mean either travel through what are currently fire zones or a long detour around on roads I’m not nearly as familiar with.
I dread putting anything out where other people can see/read/react to it. I really do.
I know there are a million thoughts and opinions on the subject out there. People’s experiences. Ways to get over it. Ways to work around it.
None of that makes it any easier for me. And, if I let myself stop and think about it, it’s exhausting.
And yet I keep trying to work on my business. I keep coming back to this blog. I keep putting things out there. I probably always will.