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Thursday, August 25, 2011

Day for Decisions

I may not make the right decisions, but they are mine to make. Mistakes or inspired changes in direction, I am responsible. Spending hours updating a resume and sending it out after a day of work is not how I wanted to spend the evening. And why I am thinking changing jobs will improve anything is beyond me. Now that I have done it, I think I should just stay where I am and write at night and create something that will take me out of the 9-5 rat race once and for all. If only. I don't know if I have the energy to start over again in a new office. I just don't.

Sunday, August 21, 2011


Depending on how you hold the Sword of Guilt, it can either work for, or against you. To say that guilt has been a major player in my years of immobility would not exactly  be an understatement; how can one move towards anything knowing that action, any action, might cut into another's sphere of influence. Might have causal effect on something going horribly wrong on their journey. So what if that is what is suppose to happen in the larger scheme of things, who wants the responsibility?

Remembering what I had posted about working in the back yard, and knowing I had wasted away more hours than I care to tally up here on the computer instead, today guilt prodded me in the other direction and action took the day; I made it outside. First walking the little dog, then getting out the little tree-limber chainsaw and taking care of some long overdue chores out back. A dent, but an improvement.

Chopped salad for lunch I had made last night but not eaten; Potatoes and kale for breakfast; so far not a horrible day.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Overload Shutdown

Sometimes the euphoria of Friday and knowing you have two days to yourself disappears under the weight of Saturday's Honey Do List.  Thus I find myself still in lounging wear with hair unbrushed when the doorbell rings at 11am Saturday morning.  Funny how seeing your home through another's eyes can open your own; with a shudder I start picking up the week's detritus and start thinking about what clothing I have that will fit and not make me crazy. Maybe stretchy work out pants and a tank top, that sounds fairly safe, and I can work in the back yard before lunch just so I feel I have accomplished something this morning besides flexing my thumb on the tv remote. Depression sucks, waking up at 3am with mind awhirling sucks. Okay, I need my audio book, which means loading it on the computer first; Up and at'm Sunshine!

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Fast Food: White Bean Soup

4C stir fry veggies pre chopped
olive or canola oil
veggie broth
ground cumin
ground chili
ground ginger
1 T White Mild Miso
Mrs. Dash 'table' seasoning
coconut milk, unsweetened
Trader Joe's yellow curry sauce
1 can white beans

Buy the veggies pre-chopped, this is for a quick dinner and you don't want to spend time or energy chopping. Knowing you can make this super fast can be the difference between coming home to make a quick nutritious dinner or driving through for garbage.  Ok.

Stir fry the veggies in about 1T of oil for a few minutes, maybe five, stirring over high heat
Add veggie broth to just cover the veggies, go change into comfy clothes while it heats up
Add a couple healthy shakes of each of the spices - a few red pepper flakes if you want it spicy
Add 2 glugs of yellow curry sauce and about 1/4C - 1/2C coconut milk
Add half the beans (rinsed)
Bring to a boil, cover and turn heat down to low
Simmer 15 minutes
Add black pepper to your bowl, and maybe a touch of sea salt or a little more Mrs. Dash - you know what you like.

Rich and delicious and full of nutrition. I suppose if I am going to do this I should enter it in my tracking sheet so I have some basics to post. But the reality is that if I stress over calories and macro nutrients it just makes me nuts.  The recipes I plan on posting are healthy enough to just eat until you are full.  Eat half of this right away because you are starving after work. Dish up the second half and let it sit while you wash your pan and ladle - LOVE easy one pan dishes. Put away the beans and veggies for another day, tidy up, and then see if you feel like eating more. If you do, fine, if not - perfect! Leftovers for lunch the next day. You could of course freeze it for another day (remember the label) or have it for dinner the next night. But really, it's so good you will want your seconds, and  your body probably needs the veggies.

Monday, August 15, 2011


We all have an innate need to share when something works for us personally. Whether it's religion, a money market or the latest diet we simply have to share with others and bring them on board, certain that this is an answer for them too. When we love someone it is double hard NOT to press our beliefs on them despite the fact that they have to figure things out for themselves 99% of the time. Or at least it seems that way to me. We don't wish to be told how to do something because we are all a bunch of 'know it alls'. Yet still we feel compelled to foist our our flags up another's pole. Somehow our egos are strong enough to ignore the reality that everyone else has an ego too that is also loathe to accept help,no matter how well intentioned. Hell of a survival trait, that misguided ego of ours. Or is it misguided. The thought surfaces that just perhaps survival is more about finding our own path rather than following the trail where someone else has had to bushwhack their way through to make the going easy for us? I have not studied how ego helped us get to where we are today, and certainly we had to share and cooperate in order to survive as a species. But I think of all the slaughter that has accompanied our evolution and can't help but wonder what part the ego played there and why so much violence has haunted our collective journey. How is all that human waste conducive to surviving as a species? I digress.

So back on track....what do you do when someone notices you are struggling and suggests you try a couple of things that have worked for them? I felt myself shutting down and becoming defensive, yet I can see that they can clearly see that I need help, and I can't help loving them for trying, and even being grateful that someone hasn't given up on me. But can I follow their advice? Or am I too stubborn? Is my ego too strong?

I am grateful for those who still love me; especially the unconditional love of my little dog. I may not listen to the sage advice they send my way, I may just stumble along on  my own for a bit more, but it is good to be loved.

Sunday, August 14, 2011


To feel calm and to be able to enjoy a breath of quiet is truly a moment of grace. No thoughts racing through my head, no irritability to be on the move. Just a small sense of peace. How wonderful to lay still, my body heavy and relaxed on the soft cotton sheets.   I know that really learning to meditate could bring this state to me on a daily basis; maybe it really is time to put some effort towards that goal.  It is one of the most frustratingly perverse human traits that we can think a thing to death and never take a step towards something we fancy.

It is a quiet grey morning outside, the light of the new day not quite having breached the walls of my mother's house. I woke from a dream where I was holding my small son, and comforting him while he cried. I knew he missed me, knew I was leaving again, and it made me so sad and so confused and guilty that I woke up. Now the calm is creeping away as my heart fills with the memory of that dream, and feels so heavy it will most certainly drop down through my body to thud on the floor.

I am so grateful for the moment of peace I had this morning. I will try to think good thoughts this morning and not let myself dwell.  I know I am worthy, why can I not behave accordingly.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Drinking & Driving

Drive your mother around on her errands, get home and have a drink. 'Nuff said.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

The black List

Not a wink of sleep last night; caffeine got me here but instead of leaving once his usefullness was gone he stuck around like the bad penny he is poking and prodding and denying me my escape into dreamland. What a rotten friend. Let's see, so far on the black list today is facebook going down for maintenance about 3:30am, the alarm that went off really loud at 5am and the hair dryer that blew out in the bathroom outlet (an ongoing problem) almost guaranteeing a bad hair day. Where is Pollyanna this morning? True, there are bluejays squawking up in the trees and there is herbal tea brewing. And I am clean if uncoiffed.

The daydream from yesterday is still clear in my mind. Speaking of my mind, I wonder what difference it has made replacing music with audio books. Do they use both sides of the brain like music? I'll have to google that later.  Dull dull dull. But writing each day is a muscle I need to exercise.

Sun Rot

Driving south to visit my Mother I had a few hours to think, and found my thoughts drifting in and out of the wreck of a relationship I was leaving at home for a few days.  And the vision that kept coming up was how my life had become like a bag that had been left out in the sun too long. There I was strolling along the beach in a wasteland of sand and sun and small broken branches when a small glimmer caught my eye. I go to pick up what looks to be a linen sack and as I begin to lift it up out of the sand it falls apart in my hands, the small weathered pieces falling between my fingers and drifting off into the wind scattering into a 'thousand little pieces', so to say. This is such a strong daydream that it is more like a memory; a very disturbing moment of de ja vu. I immediately grasp the obvious, that it is pointless to try and put back together what had fallen apart so completely.  Something entirely new would have to be forged out of this debri, or maybe it would be best to just sweep it up and put it out at the curb. But it is clear, the time has come to use a 'get out of limbo free' card and start moving the piece of my choosing along the game board.  Sorry, sitting here typing away in my Mother's house I guess it's easy to revert to childish allegories.

I am looking forward to spending a few days caring for my Mom and for myself. The pity train tends to serve fast food garbage and I need some extra greens and exercise in my life right now. I know that one full day of taking care of the details is all it takes to switch trains and get the healthmobile back on track. Bless her heart, there is a bag of dark chocolate covered power berries on the night stand next to my bed; it will be a healthy few days :)

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Pruning Therapy

Whacking away at bushes gone wild is much cheaper than retail therapy plus it adds the benefit of burning more calories than strolling through a store. I realized recently, a week or so ago, that my backyard is an honest reflection of my inner-state; mind, heart & soul. I was enjoying a rare dip into the hot tub, delighting in the greenery and birdsong until my gaze shifted from the trees and birds down to where the jasmine was thriving, growing merrily away and strangling it's near neighbours,  the miniature pomegranate bushes. I also noted an unwanted fruitless pear that had volunteered it's presence in the same planting bed and had weaved it's way through the roses, the whole mess again the prisoner of the wayward and pernicious aforementioned perfumed vine. What a great jigsaw puzzle.

It has taken a week or so for the matter to ferment inside the mysterious workings of my brain. And today I was so bothered by my inactivity I succumbed to the lure of green tea and the hoped for energy it might supply to prod me to action; any action.   Said action turned out to be the backyard, my brain letting my body know without any consultation with 'me' what needed to be done and I found myself halfway through filling the large green waste container before I realized I was outside and actually doing something productive. Oh the wonder of drugs (caffeine) and a rare beautiful summer day. I have missed most dreadfully my cool, but clear and sunny, summer mornings when I could putter out back to my hearts content. Instead this year I want to pull on slippers and a sweater, brew my herbal tea and hibernate in front of Hal (a term for my computer borrowed from Poodle whom I have not introduced to this medium but for whom I have great respect and admiration. Anyway, I digress - think Space Odyssey if you need a reference.)

Thirst finally drove me inside, leaving the green waste container filled with just enough room left at the top for lawn clippings. My mind and body temporarily soothed by meaningful (to me) activity, and an hour or so gone that I did not have to fret over. If only they could all pass in such a gloriously unexamined way.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

"It was a seven page fax, the first letter was F"

I once postulated that the whole reason we are born into these bodies, into this world, is to figure out how to deal with change. It is, is it not, everything? It's all around us in every facet of our lives, yet we seem to fight it tooth and nail by instinct, from out deepest gut; at least I do, and I see those about me in the same turmoil. Even when change will most likely be for the better, for everyone concerned,  we fight.  I heard once that we cling to what we know, that misery with what we know is easier than the fright of the unknown. Heaven knows what little beasties are out there to torment us.  So I decided that if change is such an intrinsic part of life for us here on this world we find ourselves in, and we are so bad at it, then we must be here to learn about it. Which begged the next question; what comes next that we have to be prepared to embrace change? Today, who cares. It's too bad there is no one in my life I can talk about it with, I would love to have some drinks and talk and ponder and ... but no one. A story for another day about yet something else that is my fault. Egads.

Back on topic. Here I am faced with a big upheaval in my life, a drastic change that I am not ready for, nor that I wish, well, maybe. Anyway, I've said the words and I feel .... awful. And the house is quiet. And the memory of a favourite book comes to me; something along the lines of...if you don't let someone know they have a choice, how can they make an informed decision? Why is it so hard to tell someone what you want, how you feel. Why is the very thought of hearing a no, or an argument, such a strong deterrent to sharing your thoughts? At this point there is nothing left to lose I guess, so maybe I will think about it. The problem is I don't really know what I want. Aren't I a little old to be so uncertain? Never the charging horse me, always the quiet one..."that's me in the corner." Right.  Damn.  And for two weeks I have been stuffing my face to make this icky feeling subside. Rats again.