Face Value

We went to the zoo yesterday with friends, and the kids had a great time, and so did the moms. I had a million things to do in order to get out of the house today for our trip to the cabin, but I had set up this plan a week earlier as a way to celebrate the end of school. In hindsight I was so glad I went. Memories were made, the packing still got done, and I had a relaxed and enjoyable time with my friends.

Children are simple in the way they interact with each other. I watched the kids include one another, regardless of gender or age, and meet new friends on the playground or at the zoo dinosaur dig. They are transparent, with their need for community and friends shining through. They could be easily hurt by how vulnerable they are, but it all seems to work for them. Maybe it's because they don't read so much into every comment, look or Facebook status. They simply take each other at face value, and don't automatically assume the worst of their friends.

Somewhere along the line to adulthood we lose this charmed innocence with people. I wonder if the teen years are what do us in, with wildly raging hormone shifts that cause us to be distrustful of people. I suppose we all get hurt, and begin to find ways to protect ourselves from others, and the shell we build creates cynicism and fear.

I miss the childhood version of myself. I think I was probably gentler, and more fun, and kinder as a child than I am as an adult. I don't want to have a thin skin with others. I want to assume that people are basically good, and that the onus is on the other person to tell me if I've hurt them, and remind myself that not everything is about me. Every comment isn't loaded with a double message that I have to decode. Some things are simple, if I will take people at their face values and not read into each situation.

We all have to walk lightly with each other, and be prepared to offer the benefit of the doubt when people fail us. For years I've worked on communicating clearly with my friends and family; telling them where they have hurt me, and listening to their side of the story and offering my own apologies for my actions. We all have the ability to hurt each other, intentionally or otherwise. I strongly believe that clear communication is the key to healthy relationships. I'm deciding today not to read so much into what people say and do, but do my very best to take people at face value. I think it's safer to assume the situation is not about me unless someone tells me it is.

This is going to be a real challenge for me. I'm about to go and live in close quarters with family for a week, and I think this new perspective comes at a fortuitous time. I am responsible for my own actions, words and behaviours. I will take responsibility for them, but I will not guess at how other people are feeling about me. It is their responsibility to tell me. I'm going to do my very best to leave the emotional subtext and passive comments in the shadows, and let the rest of the relationship live in the light.

I apologize in advance for the possibility that I won't be writing posts for the next few days. I feel a mix of happiness and guilt when readers tell me they aren't sure how they are going to make it without reading my posts each day. I'm so glad to know you are reading and enjoying them, but sad that I may not have internet where I am going until Tuesday, when we resurface at a friend's house in Kelowna. I'll do my best to write when I can. I'll definitely miss talking to you each day, but I'll have my pen and paper with me at all times, and hopefully there will be no shortage of ideas for me to communicate when I'm home.

Vacation

I have a love/hate relationship with vacation. About a week before I go, I enjoy a dreamy anticipation of leisure, not cooking or cleaning, and a relaxing change of pace from my regular life. A few days before we leave, I begin making lists, what feels like hundreds of lists, so I won't forget anything. Then there is the race to keep up with the laundry, and finally packing suitcases, bins and food for the trip.

While I'm packing, I become grouchy about how much work it takes to get a family of four into the van and on the road. I'm usually cleaning my house at the same time so I don't come home to a mess, and the combination of packing and cleaning is enough to make me reconsider my vacation in the first place.

I also notice how comfortable my bed is before going away, and how good my coffee tastes because I make it exactly how I like it for myself, and for some reason I start to feel anxious about leaving. I think I have to fight against this, or I'll become a lonely old woman who never goes anywhere or does anything because it's easier just to stay in my house.

Once we are on the road, I will begin to unwind, and everything will be good again. I could just do without these two days right before I leave. I don't like any state of limbo, and preparing to go away is the worst kind of waiting time. I'm anxious to just get going, while still feeling the appealing draw of my own home and surroundings.

We all need change or we become bored and settled. Mixing it up is good for me, even if I don't always realize it. I feel off-kilter without my laptop, as I'm still waiting to hear if anything can be recovered on my crashed hard drive. For seven years I've been doing a monthly newsletter for my rubbber stamping home business on the first of the month, and I can't for July because my contact lists have been erased at worst, and are unavailable to me at best.

It's all part of life. Holding loosely to things I depend on is hard work. It's worth the effort because it will keep me more aware of the things that really matter in my life, and let go of the rest, but it's a draining process. I have much to learn and a long way to grow in the area of letting go, and not being controlled by outside influences. I think we all do.

Tomorrow we are driving nine hours to Jason's family's cabin. We didn't think the cabin was going to fit into our summer plans this year, but over the winter the kids began talking about fishing, canoe rides and smores at the cabin, and we looked at each other, went back to our joint calendars, and found a way to squeeze in this trip. We all love it there; wide-open days to fill with books, walks, naps, junk food and swimming in the icy cold lake on a hot day.

We just need to get there first. I'm surprised by this realization of the yin/yang process in order to go on vacation. I think it has always been there, but I didn't identify it before. We've gone to BC so many times, it should be old hat by now, and to some degree it is, but the accompanying emotions are always there. It's always worth it to go. It helps to recognize the ups and downs and understand that they go with the territory of going away from my comfort zone for a week.

I'll do my best to piggyback wireless internet from the neighbours while I'm away, but since we don't have cell coverage or our own internet connection at the cabin, I may not be able to do blog posts from Thursday to Tuesday. In a way it's refreshing to unplug for a few short days and not be wirelessly connected to the rest of the world. It's sort of a forced electronic break. But on the other hand, I jump out of bed each morning looking forward to writing these posts, and I love hearing from all of you about where my writing intersects with your life and experiences. Thank you for reading, and for sharing your lives with me.

Hold Loosely

For years I have feared the crash of my hard drive, so we bought an external hard drive a little over a year ago from Costco. Right away we had trouble saving to it, then I thought I had saved photos and writing to it, but when I checked I couldn't find anything on the drive. I found this frustrating, so I left it for another day. Every day that my laptop functioned normally was a good day, and it was easy to push it to the back of my mind.

Yesterday it crashed. The screen went black, and the lights were still on, and after removing the power cord and battery and resetting the power for 60 seconds like the techie told me, there remained that ominous DOS message: no operating system found. I am easily frustrated by technical glitches. I want all electronics to work at all times, and when they don't, I am usually overcome by a sense of blind rage at the personal injustice done to me.

Yesterday was different. My attitude may have been different due to the garage cleaning day, where I realized I wanted to simplify my life, but somehow I experienced a calm attitude to this computer crash. I told myself, "Most of my photos are on Facebook, and all of my writing is handwritten in a binder and can be re-typed, and there is no sense panicking over something I can't control." This zen-like outlook is not the norm for me, but I didn't force it. Like some kind of miracle, it was there when I needed it.

Thankfully the laptop is under warranty for one more year, so the kids and I made an unscheduled trip into the city to drop it off at Future Shop. The seventeen year old behind the repair counter told me what I already knew, "The hard drive is likely fried." He did say that for an $80 fee they could try to recover my photos and data, so of course I asked them to try, but I had already reconciled myself to their loss, and realized that I must hold loosely to these things which are not under my control.

The techie told me that hard drives crash for no apparent reason, and he said he bought a back-up for everything he had since 1998, and three months after he bought it, fried it out and lost everything. This information was a further balm on my worry. We can't control electronics. It's better not to be too dependent on them or wrapped up in what they can give us. Our information is not always secure, and holding loosely to that fact helps me relax into life. It's a good lesson.

Future Shop will call today and let me know if my hard drive can be recovered. It would be helpful if I didn't have to re-type all of my work, and if I can keep older pictures of the kids. If it's gone, I've already accepted that fact. What's important is that my kids are right here, to hug and squeeze and love on, and that the sun is shining and it's the last day of school, and we are going to the splash park for a picnic. I will focus on what I can hold and taste and see today, and try to let go of all that I can't control.

Garage Clean-Up

We cleaned our garage yesterday, an annual task I find myself dreading as the scheduled day approaches. I generally take care of the inside of the house, and the garage, shed and yard falls under Jason's responsibility. Let's just say that his attention to detail is significantly lower than mine. He treats the yard like a newborn which requires infinite love and attention, but the garage and the shed become like neglected, angry teenagers, locked in their rooms and separated from the rest of the family.

Annually, I step in to set a date for this wretched job, and I try to dirty my hands as little as possible while still urging the job to its full completion point. Usually we fight and argue the entire time, with me laying blame and Jason becoming more and more irritated with me. This year I took a different tactic, and decided to face my fear of rats and cat-sized spiders lurking in dark corners, and actually plunged into the job alongside of him.

As a result, the job was finished in a matter of a few short hours, with no arguing or angry words exchanged, and looked better at the end than it ever has before. We could entertain and serve meals in there right now. It's a beautiful thing to behold. We make the usual promises to ourselves to keep it neat and organized, but if history has taught us anything, we'll lose all of our resolve over the long, cold winter, and next year at this time we'll be right back where we started. But for now, I feel like standing in it all day and beaming with pride.

Cleaning up stuff we own but don't use sharpens my resolve to simply own less. Buy less, and therefore maintain less. I hate buying into our cultural message that we must have more, more, more. More debt, more stress, more frustration when things break or take up all of our living space. I was offended when someone recently said to me, "I thought you just moved in, because your house is so empty." After yesterday, I take that as a compliment.

I'm making a new resolution to stand up to my culture and just say no to the pressure to buy more product that I don't really need. It's easy to say right now, and will be harder when I'm standing in a store or see something cool advertised, but I will ask myself if it's something I'll be taking to the dump during my next garage or house clean-up. We don't need most of what we own. I want to put my energy into creating memories, not maintaining products eventually destined for the landfill.

Only One You

Ava was honoured at her elementary school yesterday with a Lamplighter award, given to 2 students from each class who are considered a positive influence on their peers. As a mom, I was thrilled and proud of her, but awards like these can cause hurt feelings for others, who are also good role models but won't be celebrated publicly because only 2 out of 19 children can be picked.

All kids are special, and excel at specific things. One of my least favourite areas of parenting involves the competition that goes on between moms for how advanced their kid is compared to mine. I try to stay away from that at all costs because no one wins when you begin this useless competition. In Ava's classroom this week, every child was celebrated for something exceptional about them, and I was thrilled to watch that inclusive spirit at work.

I had a lump the size of Kansas in my throat at the Lamplighter assembly, when there was a slide show of pictures from throughout the year, set to a song that all of the kids have sung in music class. Every child in that small gymnasium sang, their voices soaring to the rafters with confidence and joy, some performing the actions, while they cheered for their friends or themselves on the screen. I felt the happiness of children all around me, and saw what a great group of kids we have in our community, and I was beyond proud to live here and be linked with them all.

Each Lamplighter was given a book when they were called to the front. It's called Only One You, by Linda Kranz. Ava read it to me at bedtime, and suddenly I was crying again. I said, "If you can live by this advice, each and every day, you will be a very successful person." I loved how succinct and true each sentence was. I saw where I succeed and where I fail, and recognized the areas I need to work on in my own life.

That little picture book about fish gave Ava and I a natural window to sit on her bed and talk about life and dreams and hope for the future. I couldn't be prouder of my 7 year old daughter. On the bad parenting days it helps to have moments like the one I made last night with your kids, so it will shore up your confidence when you worry you aren't doing a good enough job. Last night I celebrated alongside of Ava for all that she is now, and all that she will become as she grows up.

Here are the simple words that inspired Ava and I last night:

Always be on the lookout for a new friend.

Look for beauty wherever you are, and keep the memory of it with you.

Blend in when you need to. Stand out when you have the chance.

Find your own way. You don't have to follow the crowd.

Know when to speak. Know when to listen.

No matter how you look at it, there is so much to discover.

If you make a wrong turn, circle back.

If something gets in your way, move around it.

Set aside some quiet time to relax and reflect. Every day.

Appreciate art. It's all around you!

Make wishes on the stars in the nighttime sky.

There's only one you in this great big world. Make it a better place.

Slowly...

I feel like I'm getting back on track. Yesterday I had a few hours of writing time while my boy went to his dayhome for the last scheduled time before summer properly begins next week, and I got pro-active about my query letters for my screenplay. I sent out four at the same time, because all of these agents didn't mind multiple submissions. The process, once again, is hopefully crawling somewhere and not at a dead and discouraging stop.

I borrowed Pretty Woman from a friend the other day because I hadn't seen it in forever, and Jason was out of town, so the necessary ingredients were in place for a chick flick night. As I watched it, I was flooded with happy memories of watching that movie with my friends when I was in high school. Twenty years later, the same movie still transported me away into a different world, as all good movies are capable of doing, no matter when you watch them.

I've been so focused on writing my memoir that I've allowed my newest screenplay to fall by the wayside. Yesterday I sat outside on my deck, picked up my fancy pen (thanks, boss!) and worked on it. The old panic returned for the first fifteen minutes, when I was stalled out and couldn't think of where to go, and then slowly the magic descended, and my pen was flying across the page. Ideas sparked and flowed, and I hit my goal of three pages and sailed right past it. Then I wrote a quick article for Gear4Guys, and sent off my four query letters to new agents.

I proved to myself that I will work when I give myself the time and space to do so. I walked in the sunshine and heat to pick up William, then we read and dozed a little in the afternoon calm, and walked to get Ava from one of her last days of school. In the evening, we strolled down to the farmer's market as a family, and enjoyed visiting with friends while the kids buzzed around, high on life and ice cream.

It was a good day, and I've slowed down enough inside to really appreciate what is going on around me and within me. Awareness is an important goal. I want to be fully present in my own life and with my family and friends. Not thinking of the next thing on my list, and not hurrying constantly to achieve, but intentionally slowing down to stillness. It's the journey that matters, not the destination.

Leisure

Relaxing is a challenging concept for me, but this year I've been working with it the way a child experiments with playdough: rolling it around in my hand and trying to be comfortable with its texture and shape. I learned when Jason was away for a week in May that I can't go from morning to night with no downtime, or I become very tense indeed. All tasks don't need to be done in one day. If I build in time for leisure, the rest of my life is automatically more enjoyable.

Typed like that, it seems infinitely reasonable, however the hard part comes in making it happen. Summer is easier, because hot weather lends itself to going outside, leaving the housework and the query letters, and just playing for a few hours. People everywhere are doing it, and that gives me some kind of permission to indulge in recreation myself.

Yesterday William and I met a friend for lunch in the park. In the morning I felt tightly wound, like my gears didn't have enough oil to keep things moving smoothly, and I was harsh with William and with myself. Walking to the park for lunch, late because I decided to clean my house an hour before we had to leave, I was wearing my shoulders like earrings and stomping along with a black cloud above my head.

I thought about my blog post, and the mantra I was going to try for the day: I will, I will, I will. I ran it around in my mind, gently at first and then gathering more steam, and I found it altered my miserable attitude. It reminded me that I am the master of my fate, and the captain of my soul. It was a beautiful summer day, and I didn't want to waste any more time being grouchy. What is the point of being productive all of the time if I'm not happy about what I'm producing? Where are the memories for my kids if I'm charging around trying to get things done, instead of stopping to laugh, cuddle, or do something fun and out of the ordinary?

We got to the park, set up our blanket and our picnic, and something miraculous occurred. I relaxed. From the top of my head to the soles of my feet, all of that tension just went away. I stopped looking at my watch, thinking about the next thing on my list, and I simply engaged my senses. I smelled the grass and the flowers, I saw the kids running in the water and on the playground, I heard them giggling, I ate delicious food and drank cold water, and I hugged William when he ambled by for a drink or a snack. I engaged in myself and my environment, and it was a gift I didn't value highly enough before.

I planned to stay at the park for an hour or two and then go home to get more done. I stayed all day, until it was time to get Ava from school, and when I went home, I was different from when I set out for my picnic lunch. I was better for my day in the sun. William was happy, and so was I, and I realized that it's not selfish to take time for ourselves to play and unwind. It's essential. I'm so glad to be understanding this now, right before school is out and summer comes with all of its delights. I'm going to taste what summer offers me, and stock up on leisure, and see what it does for my soul.