Showing all posts in Nurture

In Books, Identity, Movies/TV, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth

Talking is not Trying

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Talking is not Trying

I finally watched The Glass Castle and burst into tears when Jeannette says to her dad, “Talking is not trying.” It struck so close to home that something primal in me rose up to meet this simple piece of dialogue. The whole exchange vibrated with truth.

My dad died sixteen years ago this spring. I was twenty-nine. It seems so long ago now, and in other ways it still feels fresh and recent. Like Jeannette’s father in The Glass Castle, mine was an alcoholic. He also struggled with mental illness in the form of bipolar disorder.

When dad died, he was alone, estranged from his ex-wife and his three adult children. I hung in there with him longer than my siblings, but our relationship was one hell of a wild roller coaster ride. I have no doubt that he was filled with regret at the time of his passing. He longed to be healthier and more stable, but simply couldn’t find the keys to that particular combination.

Viewing the ending of The Glass Castle, when Jeannette decides to go see her dying father, was a powerful catharsis moment for me. I recognized just how far I have come in these last sixteen years to forgive my dad and actually feel grateful for the lessons I learned through my difficult relationship with him.

I can see what he gave me, through his genes but also through his behaviour. And like Jeannette, I can agree that talking is not trying, even though I can see now that my dad did try. He just wasn’t able to succeed.

The point of the line in the movie is that talk is cheap. Action is what counts and what matters. Understanding this has changed me for the better, for I expect more than words now from those I love. It’s not enough to simply have good intentions. There has to be behaviour that matches the promises and the hype. Without the actions, all you are left with is lies. And a shit-ton of resentment.

I wish now that I could sit down with my dad over a cup of coffee and tell him that I have no more hard feelings. Forgiveness for me has been a long and exhausting road, but I can see that I have made significant progress. Talking is not trying, and when I was younger I needed much more than fancy words. I needed something that he simply was not capable of providing. And now it feels good to let that go.

But it’s still okay to admit that I needed a better dad. I think I’ll long for that until the day I die, but I’ve made peace with that desire. Now I know how to get what I need, from myself and from others who are healthy, to ensure that I can actually receive real love and care. I’ve found people whose actions do match up to their words. It’s not just talk anymore. The trying makes all the difference.

In Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Speaking, Writing

Student

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Student

I’ve just begun my second semester at Kwantlen Polytechnic University. In the fall I took a Creative Writing class and fell madly in love with the notion of myself as a student, even as a woman in my mid-forties. I proved that I could succeed, I learned so much from my professor, and I gradually became aware of my weakest areas as a writer (story structure, stakes and imagery).

Now I’m enrolled in two courses on Mondays. In the morning I’m doing a third year course in YA Fiction with the same prof from the fall term and in the afternoon I’m in a first year English requirement class every student must take.

When I get home at 4:15 on Mondays my brain is a lumpy oatmeal-like mush but my soul is fulfilled and accomplished. I can literally feel myself becoming a better writer. My skills are sharpening up and my critical thinking abilities are waking up from hibernation.

We must all challenge ourselves. If you are terrified of something, whether it’s making a fool out of yourself, public speaking, traveling to a developing country (not a shithole one, though, as any sane person knows there is no such thing because all countries have redeeming qualities), taking a class or confronting someone when they are being offensive, by all means: DO IT. The longer you wait, the more power it has over you.

A long time ago I heard my beloved Rob Bell suggest that we write the word “student” on an index card and carry it around in our pocket to remind us that we are always learning. None of us ever have life figured out. I loved this idea and carried this card around for months.

Now I am actually a student. I’m working part-time as a background performer in Vancouver’s vibrant film and TV industry and it’s fun, educational and endlessly fascinating. It also pays for my classes and textbooks. This makes me feel both proud and satisfied, like I’ve given the best of myself to my kids, my husband and my community for the last fifteen years but now, hot damn, I am also building into my own career and education. And I love it.

We always have more to learn. Increased ways to grow and fears to face head-on. My anxiety over plane travel and possible turbulence has been aided by flying weekly last winter and this one for speaking engagements at teachers’ conferences in other provinces. Thinking about what scares us does not help us to overcome. We need to actually do it in order to break its hold on us.

Every one of us is a student of life. The key is to remain open-minded with a soft heart so we can adapt to the unique challenges we face. We can’t plan for every outcome, but we can build up our confidence and resilience by trying new things and succeeding.

In Culture, Identity, Minimalism, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Relationships, Uncategorized

Enough Time

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Enough Time

Over the holiday season, a number of things occurred to teach me this one overall lesson: I HAVE ENOUGH TIME. 

Are you weary of feeling like a rat on a wheel, running to catch up with some goals you’ve set that you haven’t achieved yet?

Me too.

Or have you been putting pressure on yourself to master certain accomplishments and when you don’t, the sense of failure comes rushing in to knock the breath out of you?

Me too.

But here’s the thing: we have enough time. If balance is an important state for all of us (and it is), then placing equal weight on our key relationships and the many steps it takes us to reach our biggest dreams has to factor higher in our informal life satisfaction surveys.

So here’s a radical thought for 2018. What if we are not behind at all? How about making peace with the idea that we are right on time, for everything we have going on currently and all of the areas we are striving towards for the future?

Enough time. What a glorious concept. This morning, I happened across this delightful post by the superb human being that is Liza Palmer (whom I had the pleasure of meeting last fall at the Surrey International Writers’ Conference) about how we have to change our definitions of success and meaning so we see that they are everywhere. It’s exactly what I needed to read to strengthen my resolve.

My hard drive crashed in my MacBook over New Years and after a brief panic attack and then an offer of tech support from my friend Ben in Alberta, I realized that life without a laptop is completely do-able. Now I have it back in working order (thank you, Ben!) and I’m actually grateful for that stretch without it, for I feel like I woke up from a strange co-dependent technology relationship and could properly see my life and the people in it again.

Rushing around and feeling stressed is not our optimum setting as human beings. We are meant for so much more than that. Getting enough sleep, prioritizing our calendars and to-do lists, eating well, meditating, reading and resting, playing board games with our kids, saying no to what we don’t want to do, going for an impromptu Menchie’s frozen yogurt for absolutely no reason…these are the moments we remember. They make us feel fully alive.

Life is not a race to some finish line we’ve set. It’s a meandering hike where we have time to pick flowers, marvel at the sunset and share a laugh with someone we adore. Let’s make 2018 the year where we have enough time for what really matters.

How are you going to structure your life so you feel like you have enough time?

In Nurture

Laryngitis

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Laryngitis

I came down with a bad cold just before the Christmas holidays, which turned into laryngitis by the evening of Christmas Day, after a lot of visiting with family over a delicious turkey dinner.

I’ve never had laryngitis before. It’s a strange affliction, where you try to speak and there’s simply nothing there but air. Not a hoarse rasp or a faded voice, but the absence of all sound.

I went to the walk-in clinic today to confirm that what I have is just viral and will go away on its own in the standard 7-14 days (yes and yes), so no antibiotics are required. Only patience, which I tend to have in very limited supply. The doctor also confirmed what a Google search had already revealed: even whispering can do further damage to my swollen vocal chords and should be studiously avoided.

Having quiet forced upon me (and likely a pleasant delight to my immediate family members) has been an interesting experiment. The many thoughts that flit through my mind can be noticed and then discarded. Not every one of them needs to be voiced aloud. I hope I carry this lesson with me into the new year when my voice will hopefully return.

With my voice out of commission, it forces me to observe those around me and listen to what they say without chiming in. I can learn a lot from others by doing this. Not every conversation needs my words in it.

Sitting around with my husband and kids when we are all reading or scrolling through phones or pasting Star Wars stickers in a book can be quite peaceful and restful. Normally I would pepper these times with witty observations (would my family refer to these comments as witty?) but right now I cannot speak so we mostly spend this holiday week together quietly. And it’s been so lovely.

Laryngitis has helped me up my game when it comes to nonverbal communication. A gentle smile for William and a shoulder rub, particularly when he whispers to me even though his voice is in tip-top shape. A hug for Ava as we pass each other in the kitchen or on the stairs. A kiss for Jason and a nod or a goofy wink. All ways to connect with those I love without using the words I usually rely on.

It’s been a silent night over here. I’m soaking up these quiet, relaxing pajama days and getting ready to say goodbye to 2017 and bid hello to a brand new year, full of unknown possibilities, joys and heartbreaks.

May the rest of your holidays be warm, pleasant and beautiful. Thank you for being a part of my blog and my life in 2017. Let’s chat again in the new year.

In Culture, Identity, Movies/TV, Nurture, Relationships

The Last Jedi

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
The Last Jedi

I’ve taken 2017 off from writing movie reviews, but The Last Jedi was such an emotional experience that I find myself longing to write about it.

Don’t worry if you haven’t seen it (although you really should go now!) as I don’t do plot spoilers. Don’t listen to the crabby haters online who are moaning about how Episode VIII should be wiped from the Star Wars canon (thank you, internet criticism, for creating a group of angry “fans” who demand a creative product meet their specific demands like it’s SO simple and easy to make a successful blockbuster franchise movie). Go see it for yourself and decide.

The Last Jedi is truly a stunning achievement. It’s packed with all of the action true fans long for, plus a host of witty, silly quips and special moments that linger in your mind long after the final credits roll. But more than that, this instalment gives us even more women as leaders worthy of respect (hooray!) and some deep explorations of complicated and important subjects.

This movie does not shy away from topics like the devastating effects of our rabid fame culture, honest questions about identity and belonging, the punishing personal cost of war, corporate greed ravishing the environment and the ever-widening soul-crushing gap between the wealthy and the poor. I love it when I can sink my teeth into these relevant issues and engage my kids in a lengthy morality debate on the way home from the cinema.

Our world is a broken place. The Last Jedi mirrors much of this sorrow in a relatable yet still entertaining fashion. Luke Skywalker, always my favourite from the original trilogy, is back here but damaged, older and considerably more fearful than we’ve seen him before.

Rey, a hero I adored in The Force Awakens, found Skywalker at the end of Episode VII and is desperate to learn what she can from him. But Master Luke is an unwilling teacher, pushing Rey toward Ben Solo, the tortured son of Han and Leia who has turned to the dark side. This connection between “good” and “evil” moved me deeply, particularly the image of Rey trying to answer the nagging question of who she really is and where she comes from.

Each one of us has the power to write our own story. If we don’t like our past, we possess the ability to change our present so that our future becomes something different. Nothing special is required for this. Only bravery. That’s the central message of The Last Jedi, and it’s one we need desperately at this precarious moment of human history.

Go see this movie. Return to a time when you went to see a cinematic story unfold without a thousand other voices in your head telling you what’s wrong with it. Simply go and be entertained. For me, The Last Jedi is powerful, hopeful, beautiful, stirring, emotional, satisfying. We need peace, purpose and courage to light our path, now more than ever.

May the force be with us, always.