The Jump Seat

S was driving, and I was going out of my mind. We were going really fast on foggy late night roads with lots of curves, steep hills, and occasional cliffs on either side. Tearing around corners and leaving ht pavement over bumps, small towns flew by out the window in a blur. Instead of actually looking at the road (or driving), she was turned fully around in her seat trying to talk to me (for some reason I was in the jump seat in the back). I was yelling and screaming that she needed to look at the road, she needed to turn back around and drive before we crashed into something in her shiny new red truck. She told me she knew what she was doing and I was overreacting, she didn’t need to look at the road to drive. I tuned her voice out, she was trying to have a “serious conversation” with me but I couldn’t listen to her, my terror in my throat, my blood pumping in my ears. I hadn’t been wearing my seatbelt, and I struggled around a number of turns and curves to get it on, it was all I could see, but I couldn’t get it to catch. My heartbeat could be felt in every part of my body and I was sobbing, shaking my head, and pushing her away from me at each turn as I struggled with the seatbelt and she tried to get my attention again. Glimpses out the windshield showed trees and cliffs whizzing past the window, and branches scraped the side of the truck at every corner. She patronized me, rolled her eyes and reached an arm behind her to put one hand on the wheel while still turned around, away from the road, away from the cliffs, away from the dangers as the truck went faster and faster. She was nowhere near the brakes, and I was still int he back. Something was wrong with my fingers, I couldn’t get them to work properly, maybe I couldn’t see through my tears, the belt wouldn’t lock, wouldn’t click, I was sure I was going to die in a fiery car wreck. Finally the lock “CLICK”ed and I closed my eyes, gripping the belt for all I was worth. I could finally draw air into my lungs, which were on fire, and I woke bolt upright in bed gasping for breath, my heart beating in my ears, my fists tightly clenched to my chest and my clothes drenched in sweat.

Grrrowl

It’s not good to bring your personal problems to work, especially when you work with other people as part of your job. You're supposed to tuck them away in a neat little box that you keep under the kitchen sink, where your problems can wait and wind themselves up until you get back to them after work. I know this, and I believe it’s right and true most of the time – but you know what? Some days I just really don’t care.

Maybe it’s because I didn’t get enough sleep. Maybe I wasn’t careful enough leaving the house to make sure the dark fuzzy forms of my 'personal problems' weren’t still glommed on to the bottoms of my socks or tucked away deep in my pockets, but they are sneaky little pests. They found their way to work with me this morning, and I can't seem to get away from the little bastards.

I am not happy, and I am not having a good day, and though it’s very early in the day for that kind of attitude that’s where I’m at. I don't care if you don't like it. I don’t feel like smiling, I don’t feel like laughing at stupid jokes, I don’t care about what lame boring things my coworkers did on their weekends, and I don’t feel like putting on my rose-colored glasses so I can get through the day. This isn’t my normal state, normally I can smile and nod with the best of them, keeping my eyes from glazing over, sometimes even interested in what went on. Today is not one of those days.

Luckily for me my patient had the courtesy to be late in her return to the hospital from her weekend at home, though the family didn’t bother to let us know, so I don’t actually have to see anyone until 1pm. I can work on my behavioural notes from last week and stew. Maybe by 1 o’clock I’ll be able to scrape these guys off the bottoms of my socks and pick them out of the dark corners of my pockets so I care about what’s going on here again more than what’s going on in my grumpy head.

Think it'll be best to take some time to myself tonight. Well, just me and the dark fuzzy bad guys. Are you listening fuzzies? You, me, outside at the bike racks after school. Grrrowl...

Still Something

She's going to be 19 next week. She plans to be back in university next year. She was out riding her horse when it spooked and bucked, giving her whiplash. She was thrown to the ground, layed there unable to move for over an hour. Her horse returned to the farm without her, and dad came out to find her. She can hardly see, her ataxia makes her movements jerky and hard to control - but she still texts her friends all day long on her cell phone (with a magnifying glass held up to her face). Her voice is flat and her sense of humour is sarcastic. She doesn't know why she just can't go home, she's fine you know, don't I see there's nothing wrong with her? Same as before the accident she says. She'll never be what she was, but she's still something.

He's only 28, soon going to be 29. He's married, they have a one-year old child. He's been here almost a month. He just. stopped. breathing. one night and his wife found him, EMTs came and rushed him to the hospital. Some type of cardiac arrest. Only activity seen was in the brain stem (our base base base brain). He was supposed to die, but he has lived, and he continues to fight. He's pretty much blind, and he can't stand or walk. He's getting stronger, his eyes squeeze shut and his whole body shakes and jolts when he laughs after telling me a bad joke. He'll never be what he was, but he's still something.

She just turned 20. She's been here nearly a year. Pictures of her 'before' are all over her wall. With her friends. Her brother. Her parents. Her graduation class. Happy, lovely, excited, long blonde hair, fully alive. She'll probably never walk, and she hates her chair. She's angry. She gives me the finger about a hundred times a month, and then tries to laugh. She can get out a few words now. The first word I heard her say was 'hi', the second was 'motherfucker'. We're friendly. She was riding in the car driven by her ex-boyfriend (ex for a good reason), home for summer after her first year away at univesity. She was going to be a teacher. He had been drinking, they were arguing. She was more confident after being away at university. She didn't want to get back together, told him she hated him for being so mean to her, and that she would never take him back. He missed a turn and drove the car off a cliff. He walked away. She doesn't remember anything that happened up to a month before the accident. She wonders why he doesn't visit. She loves him. She'll never be what she was, but she's still something.

She's 24. She's been here for 8 days, but she swears adamantly that it's been at least 4 months, and that she's going home next week. She smiles and laughs but her eyes and her voice are just flat, like a robot. She was in the car on a family vacation, summer off from nursing school. The car flipped. Everyone else was ok, enough. Her arm is in a sling, and her mind is like a mixed-up puzzle, the pieces put together in a way that doesn't make sense. She tries to make order out of it. She thinks she has made order out of it - what do I know, maybe she has. She talks and walks, and if you didn't know you'd never guess. Unless you actually listened. She'd never guess. She hasn't yet. She'll never be what she was, but she's still something.

Some days it is harder to work here than others. Coming in is a daily reminder about how lucky I am in life, and how quickly your luck can run out - no matter what kind of person you are in life. What keeps me coming back is knowing that where there was once no sparkle and shine, where there were no words, where there was no clarity, there's still something that can be coaxed out into the light. And while it might not make a person what they were, they're still something.

When I Grow Up...

When I grow up I wanna be famous, I wanna be a star, I wanna be in movies
When I grow up I wanna see the world ,Drive nice cars, I wanna have groupies
When I grow up Be on TV, People know me, Be on magazines
When I grow up Fresh and clean , #1 chick when I step out on the scene

This song is stuck in my head, I love it (bad, I know!). What about me and when I grow up? God knows I don't feel the need to be on TV or on the cover of a magazine (I am a junior high modelling school dropout!). I'm in such dithers about a career path though. In the generation of my parents, you chose a job out of high school (or got one after college if you were lucky enough to go) and kinda stuck it out, loyal to your job and employer through 'til retirement. Me, I'm not built that way. I want my job to be challenging, to make me think, to learn new things, to help me grow and change. I have had some great jobs, and I have worked with some incredible people, but as of yet there is still nothing that feels quite right. It feels almost as though I am going through jobs figuring out exactly what I *don't* want to do for a living!

When I decided to go to university I knew I would go into a psychology program. I graduated high school knowing I wanted to be a psychologist. After a few volunteer positions that allowed me to do some counselling, I left knowing that I definitely didn't want to counsel adults (too dead end and draining for me), but I was still really interested in doing counseling of some kind with kids. After getting 1/2way through my master's in school psychology I continue on knowing that I don't want to be a school psychologist (too limiting in effect and opportunity). I am D E E P L Y    I N T RI G U E D with thoughts of doing trauma counselling with children, and am currently investigating how best to get into that kind of field. How on earth though will I know if that is going to be what I'm looking for?

The perfect career will:

• be something that lets me help kids and their families
• allow me to work a normal amount of hours in a week
• pay well enough to live comfortably and be active and independent
• afford me the time (flexibility) and money to travel
• allow me to participate in workshops through the year that were interesting, inspiring, and relevant
• give me opportunities to travel for work
• always present a 'next big thing' to learn and get good at

Keepin' my eyes peeled, in case the time comes when I decide it's time to grow up.

In Silence

How do I help you know
to believe, to see
that you are not to blame
for me?

Where are the words
that could help you hear
that only your love
kept me going that year?

How do I make
the shape of my soul
visible
so you can see
how much your love
has changed me

You couldn't have loved me better
I couldn't have loved you more

I couldn't have loved you better

You couldn't have loved me more

My heart breaks anew every time
I see the new glimmer in your eyes
dampen and grow dimmer
my untidy reflection
causing you sorrow and pain
my best friend in the world

How do I find the words
to tell you how sorry I am
that I didn't love you better,
that I didn't love you the way you needed,
that I didn't give you more,
that I didn't help you up sooner,
that I didn't make you better,
that I didn't let you in deeper,
that I didn't have the words,
that I didn't know how to be anyone but me,
and that I couldn't have loved you more

How do I tell you, the inside-you,
that you are one of
the strongest and most
beautiful women that
I've ever met
that you are capable
of so many incredible things
in this world
if you only believe it yourself

How do I tell you that
the light that shines from your heart
could make shadows flee
from countless dark corners
and that I know this
as it has chased away mine

For someone who thinks herself
so verbal
so wordy
so talkative
screams come out in silence
and when I reach for words
they duck away from my tongue
hiding in the shadows
and never come
only tears
quiet, lonely, slow, sad, heavy tears

There are no words

and silence is what I'm left with

Wheels turning

Sorrows building

Heart loving

Eyes crying

Soul sighing

Lungs crushing

Silence

Desiderata (Things to Be Desired)

One of my favorite writings, and some current musings it brings up for me... reminders about the way I want to live my life...

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

When I allow myself a return to the silence I remember what it is to be peaceful, to 'go with the flow', and the align myself with the energy of the universe... don't get caught up with it all, go within.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

No grudge bearing, no sniping and gossipping, so holding on to old wounds and old weapons. Without sacrificing who I am and what I need I will do my best to treat people well, with respect and kindness.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Shallow brooks are noisy, so run deep. I try to remember that I don't have to hit people over the head with truths that are my own in order to be understood. It is me that needs to understand, me that needs to have heart in what I believe. When working at being on good terms with all persons I have had the chance to listen to some I would say are dull and ignorant, and sometimes they teach the bigger lessons.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit.

Peolpe who are unable to see the beauty in everyday life and in others around them are no longer invited to sit at my campfire... there is something incredible everywhere I look, and I want that to be surrounded by those who help me to see it...
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Though I might have a higher education and be priviledged in the kind of life I live, I see people all around me who have more, do better, have survived worse and come through better. I'm in this life for me, and just for me, that's what I'm learning is important. "You'd worry less what other people thought of you if you knew how seldom they did," one of my favorite quotes.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

I am working on finding enjoyment in finishing something, achieving something, and not just getting lost in the scramble down the next path. I am all about the journey, but sometimes I forget entirely about the destination... take some time to look around and appreciate what's been accomplished before moving on...
Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

As much as I know that I'm supposed to keep telling myself "I am not what I do, I am more than what I do", 'what I do' is an important part of who I am. Much of my self-confidence comes from being successful and respected in my work. My success at work depends on being able to maintain my interest in the job. I am interested in what I do when I feel challenged and excited by the work I'm doing. It's important me to find challenge in what I do.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Thank god there is so much virtue in the world around me, or I might actually lose my mind. I never lose sight that there are heroes everywhere in my life. I see them every day at work, the patients, their families and loved ones, the people who come to work every day to work with a population as challenging as those with brain injuries... the world may be full of trickery, and it's not the 'best plan' to run headlong unawares into new situations, but I see the world to generally be a good place.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Do not feign affection... so maybe that means be true to what you really think and how you really feel. Be honest, be real, be you. Don't give up on love, it is all around in so many forms if you only allow yourself to be open to it. This is not the easiest on the list, but it is surely something I desire to be/do.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Listen to your mom, she knows what she's talking about - and stop leaving your socks in the middle of the floor, there's nobody here to clean up after you! Surrending the things of youth... only to a point though. I know things have to change the older we get, we have to be responsible, have to be reliable and dependable, have to contribute to society, but I will try to make sure I only surrender the things that keep me from making wonderful things happen in my life... I give away my past hurts, old grudges, dusty fears, and pig-headed deafness... In exchange I embrace an open heart, a lighter outlook, and a more positive dream of life and living.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune, but do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

I know that bad things happen to good people, and that despite the best laid plans things can get away from you and go awry. However, it does no good to surround yourself with worries about the terrible things that could go wrong, or the bad things that could happen. I will take care of myself, nourish my spirit and replenish my heart at every opportunity so that I don't have to live a life of fear and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Okay critical little nay-ssayer that lives in my head sometimes, are you listening now? I'm just human. I will try to do the best I can in all situations. I will try to be my best as often as humanly possible, but I am not going to be perfect, and I don't have to be perfect. These things that seem like mistakes and failures in the moment are just things that lead to bigger, brighter, and more beautiful days ahead... everything happens for a reason (yes, even that guy up there who cut you off, it happened for a reason, just breeeeeeeeeathhhhhhhhe).

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive God to be.

Some days I think it's all God's fault, other days I don't really have an opinion about God in the big picture. I know that what it all boils down to is that I am responsible for directing the energy I put out into the universe. What comes back to me is whatever I invited with my thoughts and actions. Think well of life, do well with life, good things will come.
And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Take a moment in the day to close your eyes and remember that there are incredibly beautiful things in this life, in this world. Pictures something beautiful that makes your heart happy to be alive. There is always something to bring myself back to.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

The most simple and the most difficult, summed up in one. A commitment to myself... Though I may not always be a chipper soul, I will work to have a positive outlook on the world. I will strive to be happy in life, no matter what else.

Certainly a list of things that I desire to be part of my way of life, as easy as breathing. Wishing you peace, happiness and beauty as you go through your day... S.

A Memory

you surround me

in your

delicate

blossoming dance

of fire and rain

as the night

dissolves

the hurricane in my soul

into the soft blue

whispering shadow

of a beautiful dream

Old Friends

An old friend got in touch with me yesterday. It's been 15 years since we last spoke, nearly. He said he came across my grad school bio last week online (not sure how he fell across that little tidbit!), and decided to look me up on good ole' Facebook. There are 2 people with my name on their server (the other is from London and has decidedly different features from me), so at that point it likely wasn't that hard to find me.

I was touched that he thought to look me up.

We were good friends, great friends you might say, but not long-time friends. He was someone I had a short, fun, exciting and crazy intense relationship with. I genuinely liked him. We met online, and talked for hours and hours over months. I remember being exhausted in classes some days because we had stayed up all night talking. Talking, talking, talking. I flew to the other end of the continent over my freshman winter vacation to spend it with him (my first time travelling outside the country).

He was going to UCLA at the time, he was interested in politics, he made me laugh, he was interested in me and he was smart - and he made me feel smart, beautiful and sexy. He was good for me. I remember the nervous feeling in my stomach as I was getting off the plane to meet him, all the questions racing around in my head (mostly about my level of sanity!!)... he met me at the airport with a rose, (I wasn't hard to impress at 18!), and we stayed at his loft in LA. He showed me all around the city, took me on my first trip to Disneyland, Hollywood, Venice beach... it was an incredible vacation (thank you student loans people!), and I remember it with nothing but fondness (and a bit of pink flush in cheeks, even now).

We had a fantastic time together, and after that we didn't really stay in touch (I don't remember that we did, anyway, beyond the requisite 'thank you card' type of follow up). I think of him occasionally, wonder how he's been. I come across photos occasionally in my piles of pictures... my fresh, young 18-year old self, blonde hair blowing beside the ocean, all excited about life and carefree... navel pierced and belly bared beneath a cropped tshirt... jeans barely hanging onto slim hips... confident and beautiful... smiling into the camera he was holding, a real smile behind my sparkling eyes... I look at the pictures now and again, and I smile, remembering how it felt to be me...

Life moved on for both of us, as it does, and we grew up... he spent some time in the army (a lot of time actually, surprised me, that one!), got married, got divorced, finished university, had a bunch of different jobs, and now he's taking care of his father and working on being a writer (something in the California water, I think). Such different stories from ones I thought he might have had. And then again maybe not so different underneath it all...

How does he see me, after our brief reacquaintence? How does he remember our time together, I wonder? Men and women have such different outlooks, different perspectives on life, on people. I'd like to hear about that time in our lives through his eyes...

Personal Development Day

Today at work I did a Myers-Briggs workshop that told my bosses how Carl Jung might explain the 'psychology of me', and how I best work (i.e. how the management can best use me to their advantage). Results were (unfortunately for them!) that I was likely to be insubordinate if I didn't support the authority line and they didn't have my 'buy-in', and that I am likely just to ignore the rules when I don't feel they suit me and do what is most interesting/useful to me - ha!  Maybe I shouldn't have gone to the workshop,they were pretty oblivious before! Too late... When I got home I checked out some free online versions to see if I would get the same thing, and I totally did (but I found so much more about how my personality style affects the way I live my life). 

So who knew it, but I'm an ISTP... can you even pronounce that?!  Last time I was in a job that did this workshop I was an INFP, which didn't really resonate with my own feelings about the kind of person I was, but this one is bang on, almost in that "twilight zone theme song" kinda way... keeping company with Clint Eastwood, James Dean, Bruce Lee, and Katharine Hepburn, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh....

Since I spent most of my day at work after the workshop looking up information related to my profile I can say that today was a particularly informative 'personal developement' day (thank you work!)! Much food for thought about how I deal with life, and particularly about what's going on right now in my relationship and the way I'm handling it... as well as about why I can never seem to 'stay put' once the challenge is past or it just doesn't make sense to stay. I would encourage you to spend a day obsessing, and see what you might learn about yourself... 

ISTPs can be very intense and exciting individuals. Their strong Thinking preference makes them seem rather aloof and "hard to get". Their Sensing and Perceiving preferences make them sensual, earthy individuals, which makes them attractive to the opposite sex. ISTPs live entirely in the current moment, which makes them especially interested in new sensations and experiences. They strongly dislike routine and strict schedules, and resist being controlled by others.

They are fiercely independent and need their own space within a relationship. When involved in relationships which provide for their basic needs and which present them with new experiences, the ISTP will be happy to do what's necessary to keep the relationship alive and well. If a relationship becomes boring or oppressive to the ISTP, they will try to fix it, or move on. ISTPs take their commitments on a day-by-day basis. Even if they say "I do", it usually means "I do for now". They do not like to make lifelong commitments, although they may very well be involved in lifelong relationships which they have taken one day at a time.

 This is just a snippet of what you might find online if you look up your own profile, but no need to drown you in my own details so I'll stop there.

It's been really interesting for me. My biggest obstacle in ending my relationship, which I have been 'trying' to do for the past 2 months, is that I can't come up with a clear and concrete description for why I know it isn't going to work, and she just plows through asking me to give it another month, and I say nothing... I just know why it's done, I can't explain it, and she wants more than that. I can say that I feel a little less 'romantically stunted' after learning some more things that make sense about how I am in life, and I understand a bit better why I'm having trouble making it clear even though I'm not shifting from my own position... where was Jung in my life 10 years ago??? Wait... stuck in the back of a useless textbook in a second-hand bookstore... oops again...

A very simple version of the test (5 minutes or less) can be found here, and a longer test can be found here (10 minutes max). I only mentioned the free ones, there are some great pay sites as well if you just google. Once you know your type, information is really available everywhere online to find out more about it (this site is pretty good!).

The area that stands out most for me is the reminder that I'm an 'in the moment' liver of life (person who lives, not icky detoxing organ, ugh), but I do what's right for me, what I know to be right, because it's right for me. I used to know this about myself, and I've covered it in a fine layer of glitter and sand.. I need to get back to that part of me now...

P.S. One site also suggested that I was likely to be almost freaky about how often I needed to change my blog layout and colours and such so I stay involved with it, so sorry for those of you who like to come to the same place every time you stop by... I just can't do it!!!  :)

Incidental Update on the Coffee Deprivation Experiment

 Thanks to a reminder from a friend, I remembered only this morning that today is my last day of going without coffee!! When I started my little mini-detox from coffee at the beginning of the month, I didn't know whether I was going to turn into a raging lunatic in the mornings or if I was just going to sleep through my days. If my parents were any example, I should have probably taken 2 weeks off when I started this little project!

Often enough for the first few days I was admittedly sluggish, and I almost felt like I was plodding through a jello-world on the time/space continuum (without the sweet-suga' payoff!). After that though things kind of went back to normal (says I). My office-mate Nick very politely told me that I wasn't as 'friendly and chatty' for the first few days - of course I then felt the need to apologize to the guy... he's just a poor psych intern student after all! Come to think of it, maybe he was actually telling me he was finally getting some peace in the mornings instead of my non-stop chattering! Hmm...

I did miss coffee though. I missed the yummy flavour, the warm nudge, and I missed carrying my babba everywhere with me!! So after 2 weeks I can say that I don't turn into a beast without coffee, and I can still get through my days in a relatively productive fashion. I didn't sub in any other caffeinated bevvies in that time either, I've just been drinking decaf green and white tea, plus a whole lotta water. It's good to know though that I don't need coffee to get by in the day (other than the bleary-eyed beginnings that come without it initially!).

I tell you this though... I sure am looking forward to that nice hot mug tomorrow... maybe I'll also pack a thermos!! Poor Nick...

I Remember, and I Will Always Remember

      It's early and the blankets are pulled up over my head. There's a cat sleeping on my chest and I am happily trapped, snug, safe and warm in my bed. The scent of you is on the pillow my face is buried in as I drift and dream.
      Aw crap, the phone is ringing, "damn phone, frickin' racket, who is calling this early in the stupid morning, ugh," and I fumble around, my arm slapping around the bed to locate the source of noise that's pulled me from my sweet dreams. You're on the phone in your 'tough voice' being all business-like telling me that there's been an attack on the US and that you're not coming home, they're not letting you leave the base and you're dagging up in 24hrs. In my sleep I think this joke isn't very funny and I hang up on you, kinda angry, but mostly asleep. Since you were a patient man you called me back again, "no babe, you've gotta wake up, wake up now! and listen to me, it's important and I'm not playing around - now sit up."
      My heart falls into my stomach as I push the tangles of hair out of my eyes, and tendrils of the conversation from minutes before wind their oily selves around my tender, loving, naiive, open-hearted mind. I start crying, wrapped in disbelief and confusion. Terrorists... in the US... plane crash... explosions... the WTC... "Terrorist attacks? What? There are no terrorists here. Wait, what are you saying?! What happened? Oh my God, this isn't real, and I'm still asleep, that's it isn't it?" "No babe, this is real, you aren't asleep, and I'm not going to be able to come home for awhile babe, I can just come get some stuff this afternoon, but I can't really talk to you any more about it when I get there..." "You're not coming home? What do you mean you're not coming home? They can't do that! Your toothbrush is here, you can't leave without your toothbrush, they can't just up and make you leave..."
      Your toothbrush, it's silly but I remember the conversation clearly, and it was like you didn't even blink. You had 4 hours in the afternoon once orders were confirmed to come home, grab your gear, say goodbye, and get back to base to be ready to leave. Your voice is so strong on the phone, my heart aches to have you with me, beside me, telling me it will all be okay, but all I really want to do is throw up. I refuse to do a thing until you get here, until you're home and I can see you, talk to you, look in your eyes, kiss you. I begin padding around the house in my bare feet, my robe pulled tightly around me and my mind racing as I spend the next 2 hours feeling helpless and lost, half-listening to the news trickle in over the radio little by little i this new and altered reality of my life. What were they playing on the radio? I don't remember, did they stop the music that day? Was it only news? I don't know. I walk in circles and circles and circles, around and around and around the house waiting for you to come home. I hear your key in the lock and I rush to the door to throw my arms around you.
      You looked different, your eyes are hard, softening for a moment when you pull me tight to your chest. "Come on babe, we've gotta get my kit n' shit together." I don't want to help you gear up, I want to have a tantrum to make you stay, stomp and scream and cry until you promise not to leave. I have a billion questions that you aren't allowed to answer. I hate the army again. I have no idea where you are going, what you are going to be asked to do, and when you will be coming home. As surreal a time as it was, I had no idea at this point the extent of chaos that reigned within places I always imagined to be safe, impermeable. All I knew was that I wanted you with me.
      You being always prepared, it didn't take us long to pull your stuff together. I'm sure I've barely blinked and now you are heading out the door. You give me a quick squeeze and a kiss. "Don't you dare say goodbye to me (though I know that you never say goodbye when you're leaving this way), you just come back safe. You be strong, and you come back safe to me. Oh, God I love you... I love you," and the door closes. I lean my forehead against it, choking back my sobs so you don't hear as you leave. I am proud of you for being who you are. I am proud of your strength, your determination, your sense of honour and committment to what you believe in. I am glad you are going to be there to help the people that needed you, to help sort through the confusion, wherever they were sending you. I will wait here, I will be strong for you, safe at home until you come back to me.
      Many years have passed since that horrible day, and not one day goes by without thoughts of you, without sending you love out into the big blue. Thank you for being so strong, for being so patient, and for coming home safe to me after those awful days apart. Though I lost you anew to a different(?) terror and my own fumbling indecision, I will always remember. I will honour the things you believed in, the things that were planted deep, hung up high for all to see on the flagpole of your heart.
      For all those who were not so lucky, those who lost someone this day not so many years ago, I will look at their photos again when I can find them, I will read their stories again, and I will remember, to keep even a small part of them here safe at home.

A daily reminder

Inspired by a fellow blogger Danigirl and my total awe for her well-inspired 365 project (you can see her project page here) I have decided to try something like it for myself. I love photography, sometimes it seems I really do need an excuse to pull out the camera, and I can look back on it as a cool accomplishment once I'm done!

My photo blog, the place I plan to save as a home for my project, is here, and my flickr page (where I'm keeping my photos) is here (just look for 'A Year in Pictures') and here (my everyday 'keepers' that don't make the 'big cut". I just decided last weekend to start taking some time each day to find something I would like to freeze in time, if only for the moment, and then write something about what it means for me at week's end. The daily photo I'm adding to my photo-page sidebar, and maybe at some point I'll figure out how to add it here too, but one-thing-atta-time!

So far I am off to a good start, having a whole 5 days done!!  Haha, only 360 more to go. It is going to be an interesting challenge to hold value in something that is only for me, to uphold a committment to myself instead of dismissing it as 'something trivial' when I'm feeling overworked or overrun, and to follow a project through its life, from beginning to end, without abandoning it (or myself) in the process.

It is a gentle reminder to me, much needed in this speeded-up world we (or at least I) inhabit these days, to slow down, take a minute (or an hour, or a day) for myself, and breathe in something beautiful.

Invading my inner silence

I stood in front of the window looking out beyond
still above the dishes in the sink, the cooling dishwater, 
eyes unfixed somewhere in the future of time
listening to the song on the radio

I've practiced this for hours, gone round and round
and now I think that I've got it all down
as I say it louder I love how it sounds
'cause I'm not taking the easy way out
not wrapping this in ribbons
shouldn't have to give a reason why...


It's no surprise I won't be here tomorrow
I can't believe that we stayed till today
though you and I will be a tough act to follow
I know in time we'll find this was no surprise


It came out like a river once I let it out
when I thought that I wouldn't know how
held onto it forever just pushing it down
it feels so good to let go of it now
not wrapping this in ribbons
shouldn't have to give a reason why


It's no surprise I won't be here tomorrow
I can't believe that we stayed till today
there's nothing here in this heart left to borrow
there's nothing here in this soul left to say


If I could see the future and how this plays out
I bet it's better than where we are now
but after going through this
it's easier to see the reasons why


You shouldn't have to give a reason why, but somehow you do. Tell me, how do you manage not wrapping it in ribbons when all you want is to lessen the pain? All the practicing in the world hasn't made it any easier for me, or the picture any clearer. 2 months have passed since I knew it was time, and predictably, here I still am, going round and round. If I could see the future and how this plays out, I bet it's better than where we are now...

Get me out of this dotty room!

Ok, I had something else on the go to post for today but I got sidetracked (and it's already getting late!) looking for a new template for this page.  So...for all of you much-smarter-than-me bloggers out there, H-E-L-P!!

I don't want to use the themes that are freely available from blogger. No offence to blogger, but there's sure not a lot of choice!!  I have looked all over online, and each time I try to download a template I end up with some garbeldy-goop that I can't make work on here, something about xlm/zip/incompatible badness.

If you have some suggestions on where I might look, I would *REALLY* appreciate it!!

A wonderful weekend

*Edited to add...
Ok, I at least found the html editing options, and I don't hate it so much... I'll just pull back the curtains, open up the windows and make nice with it!

The missing piece

"Do you ever feel that way? Lonely? Restless. As if you haven't really met yourself yet. As if you'd passed yourself once in the fog, and your heart leapt - 'Ah! There I Am! I've been missing that piece!' But it happens too fast, and then that part of you disappears into the fog again. And you spend the rest of your days looking for it."  Libba Bray (The Sweet Far Thing)

It is confusing to me, to be surrounded by people, to be loved, and yet still feel lonely and restless, to wish I lived another life. There are many days when I don't really seem to notice, I forget that I wanted something more and I get happy again, fading into the tidy little rut that I've dug for myself where I don't want to do or be or see or live more. Then my heart wakes up, gives me a snap on the ass with a wet dish cloth (or a clunk in the back of a head with a 2x4, as it sometimes happens), and the truth echoes in my head as I remember all over again.

This rut is not me. This rut is not me. This rut is not me. This rut is not me. This rut is not me. This place of sinking and stagnation is not me. This place of sinking and stagnation is not me. This place of sinking and stagnation is not me. This place of sinking and stagnation is not me. This place of sinking and stagnation is not me. This gradual deflating and fading is not me. This gradual deflating and fading is not me. This gradual deflating and fading is not me. This gradual deflating and fading is not me. This gradual deflating and fading is not me.

I have lost myself again and now I wait to feel that spark of recognition from within the fog, when I allow myself to be found.

From the mind to the body?

Most people think that the mind and the body are separate and function independently. I think it's more true to say that these two usually work together in shaping what becomes of our experiences. Sometimes what's going on in our head can reduce or eliminate the effects of physical problems, other times it can exacerbate them. Have you ever found yourself to get sick with seemingly no explanation? Have you ever thought about what was going on in your life, and how it might be impacting your physical health? I'm not talking about the (a) stub your toe (b) toe hurts like crazy kind of pain, I mean more of the bigger picture, pains or illnesses that you have that don't have that stub-pain foundation.

I think there's something to the idea that your body goes out of its way to accommodate the things going on in your mind - just the way the universe goes out of its way to accommodate your thoughts. Maybe the body does it to help you see what you're doing to yourself though, compared to the universe, which does it because your thoughts set the path you lay before yourself. Maybe you get laryngitis and lose your voice because you won't or can't speak, say what you need to say to someone in your life? Maybe your muscles seize up and you can no longer turn your head because you don't want to look around and see what's happening around you? Maybe you get chronic diarhhea because you allow yourself to be treated poorly, taking in only the 'shitty' things in life (shit in, shit out)?

That's one theory anyway... Interesting to think about anyway, as I head for the bath to nurse my own aches and pains.

Mmmm, coffee...

When I was a kid, I remember that in the mornings you just didn't talk to either of my parents until they'd had their first cup of coffee. Up until that point in the day they were just craaaaaaanky! That, and they were smokers, so their early morning cigarette had to have taken effect as well before they seemed to be able to deal with the reality of their lives, having children and jobs and all that.
Me, I just started drinking coffee a few years ago (and am lucky enough to have never started smoking, ugh!). When I was younger younger and everyone I know was addicted to their 10 cups a day I really didn't like the taste of coffee, so I just didn't drink it. Now I like the taste of only one coffee, the maxwell house original roast you get in the grocery store, and pretty much only if it's brewed at home. I'm not a fan of Tim Horton's (gasp! bad Canadian, I know), Second Cup or Starbuck's, though I have been known to drink the occasional mochaccino!). When I do make it to Starbucks and I'm willing to cough up $6 for a hot drink I usually order a soy chai latte with a vanilla shot (ohh, or a superhot chai eggnog latte at christmas!), and there ain't no coffee to be found in there!! 

Now I drink it in the mornings, carried around until lunch in my big stainless blue indestructible Starbuck's travel mug that holds 20oz. S calls the mug my babba, as she says I carry it around like a baby does with their bottle (I have even been found napping on the couch with my babba tucked securely under my arm!!). I am quite fond of my mug, and I can mix the perfect cup of coffee in it (it just doesn't turn out the same in one of those little ceramic coffee cups!) that stays hot and yummy until lunchtime - this is a good thing, because I'm so distractible that it takes me about 5 hours to get to the bottom of my cup anyway!

Recently I decided that I'm going to stop drinking my lovely morning brew for a bit, because I am curious to find out whether or not it is indeed having any kind of effect on me in the mornings. Am I slower without it? Grumpier? More tired? Irritable? I don't know, so I'm waiting to find out. It wasn't a health decision, most research today suggests that coffee does a lot of good things for you. Working in a hospital means that my inbox spam is very often filled with new research articles (some well done, others not-so-much!), so I have read quite a few things lately that contrast the 'old news' about coffee.  For example, did you know that for your average healthy adult... (1) The water you drink in coffee does count toward that '8 glasses per day' that the health-conscious are supposed to drink! Although coffee has diuretic properties, the water that it contains does the same thing as when you drink water. (2) Drinking coffee has been suggested to be a protective factor against alzheime's, parkinson's and dementia later in life. (3) People who drink 1-2 cups of coffee before an exam or other mentally demanding task produce higher scores than those who do not (caffeine enhances mental efficiency, reaction times, memory and IQ).

Over the next 2 weeks I'm going to keep an eye on myself and see if anything is different. So far this is day 2 coffee free, and there's no noticeable difference, so we'll see!!  Stay tuned...

Radio Tunes and Random Information

Have I ever mentioned that I hate serious conversations at bedtime? I really hate anything at bedtime that isn't to do with sleeping - when I go to bed, that's all I want to do: go to bed, close my eyes, and go to sleep. Weird, I know, but true! I realize that I am difficult to pin down, and that (particularly recently) I am more difficult to convince into a serious conversation, even from the shallow end. Perhaps it's because I'm afraid of what's in the water. I don't want to be the cause of more pain, but it would seem that that's how it's working out anyway.

"What activity makes you feel most like a little kid again?" she asked, as we were going to sleep. "You've been so serious these days, I would like that little girl inside to come out and play with me....(silence...)"

"You aren't any fun anymore" is what I hear behind her carefully considered question. "Why don't you laugh and smile when you're with me anymore?" I didn't really give much of an answer, unwilling to go there right before I went to sleep. Unwilling really to go there at all, a coward. "I don't know. There isn't really an activity, not really. Camping maybe? No, that's not it. There is no real activity that does that, it's more of an energy that comes, not some particular event." That was the end of the conversation.

Of course I woke up thinking about it (and probably spent the night dreaming about it, which is why I hate serious conversations right before I go to sleep). It's a true answer, that there's no real activity I do that makes me feel like a little kid again; it's more about how I'm feeling when I'm doing it that does that. I wake knowing that I'm not a lot of fun at home right now. I'm not incredibly happy right now. Things in my life are serious at the moment; and grown-up times call for a grown-up presence. This time that I am in, that we are in, is not one that I feel like my little girl should be out in the world to deal with. She had enough to be grown up about (long ago, when I couldn't protect her) and now her only job in life is to be fun, to be a little kid filled with wonder, joy and delight. Now I protect her, keeping her safe, guiding her through the waters and keeping her from the storms that would have her smashed up against the rocks. She is out in the world only when it's safe for her, and that's how it will stay. This time of sadness, of regrets, of disconnect and filtered joy is not kid-friendly. Don't read me wrong, it isn't that by any stretch of the imagination anything treacherous or awful is happening, or that I'm feeling unsafe or even vulnerable. Just that my life isn't the life of a little kid right now.  

Funny that this conversation has come up now, when I was just thinking yesterday about how I've been feeling like two different people walking through life. On one hand I'm my normal self, thinking doing and being as I always have, when I'm by myself. On the other hand I'm also this other me that is more serious than not, less happy than I used to be. Removed. I'm happy at work, and happy on my own at home, reserved when S and I are together, wary of giving her hope for something that I know isn't going to be. I recognize this division, this dichotomy of me. It's what happens when I stop listening to that little voice that comes from within and knows the truths of my own gigantic universe. I know this because I've been here before. Yet stubbornly I remain here, for the wrong reasons, "giving it some time," ignoring that voice, filling the spaces with radio tunes and random information.