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In Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Spiritual Life, Writing

Retreat

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

Everyone can benefit from a retreat, but women in particular are in need of a getaway to refresh and refuel from their daily work of giving and sacrifice.

Last week I took myself to a small town in Washington state for a one-night writing retreat as I’m trying to finish my current manuscript before the kids are home for the summer. I booked it weeks ago, hoping for an ocean view room as nothing sparks creativity better than the sight and sound of the waves.

I waited until the kids were both home from school in the mid-afternoon so I could kiss them and hug them and say goodbye in person, then I jumped in my car and drove across the border with a light heart and a blanket sense of joy and peace.

The whole thing felt RIGHT. I used to plan writing retreats for groups in June at a Bed and Breakfast until the place we went to was sold and I didn’t muster up enough energy to find a new one. A couple of years went by and I didn’t go away on my own to write. Last week I realized just how much I’d missed it.

I popped into a local grocery store and took my time wandering the aisles, choosing food for one person for the next three meals. It was like playing house. Never has grocery shopping been so fun, with only my tastes and preferences to consider.

I checked in around 5 pm, unpacking and heading outside to my tiny deck to soak up my scrap of ocean view. I brought my writing binder outside and got down to work, luxuriating in the sense of being alone and doing my favourite activity on earth in a beautiful location.

We all need to make time and space in our schedules to retreat from our daily lives. This one-night stay felt profound to me, for it signified that I was worth the expense of this short trip. I used to talk myself out of these kinds of luxuries, figuring there was something more worthwhile to spend money on. But now I’m realizing that the freedom and joy I experienced while I was away has no price tag. It’s valuable beyond measure.

If you are a woman who gives to others and doesn’t refill her tank with activities she loves, consider this a gentle nudge to take yourself on a retreat. Even if it’s a solitary walk for an hour, build a sense of retreat into your life. Your spouse and your kids will thank you as you will be returning to them as your very best self, refreshed and ready for what comes next.

My one-night retreat was a week ago and I still feel utterly calm and balanced as a result of taking some time out just for me. I got a lot of work done, I consumed delicious food and drink, I slept in, I walked along the water’s edge, I soaked up the silence and I poured my heart out onto the page. And when I returned home I was changed for the better because I valued myself enough to go away on a retreat that was custom designed for me.

Where are you going on retreat and how will you fill your soul while you are away?

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

Open

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

One of my 3 words for 2017 is OPEN. In the last couple of months, I’m living out this word and I’m head-over-heels in love with the results.

Being open means saying yes to what I really want, even when it scares me. It’s choosing to ignore that nasty little voice that whispers, “Are you kidding? You’ll never be able to do that. You aren’t qualified enough, smart enough, thin enough, confident enough, brave enough.”

I’m coming to understand that the people I admire who accomplish amazing things all struggle with these crises of self-doubt before they take action. But they move forward anyway. I’m 44 years old. If I’m lucky, I’m at the halfway point of my life and I’m done with sitting back, playing safe and regretting the missed chances I’m too timid to take.

Now I’m saying yes to the things I most want to accomplish and no to almost everything that doesn’t move me toward those big goals. This means being intentional about my time and choosing not to worry if someone is offended when I’ve said no.

Crystallizing my priorities has helped me to be happier and allowed me to stay open to the truly good people and experiences in my life. I was blocked from enjoying them before because the longing for what I DIDN’T have was just too strong.

Now I’ve reversed this. I’m clearer about what I need to do on any given day to move my priority projects forward. Everything else I can let go of. Every one of us can only do so much with our days and our resources. I’ve decided to be content with the choices I make and tell myself that what I’m accomplishing really is good enough.

Since my appendix rupture last summer and our subsequent move to another province, I know who really matters to me and who doesn’t. And I choose to spend my time with those who enrich my life and make me laugh. I encourage them and they reciprocate that joy and gratitude back to me.

It’s so lovely to actually enjoy my life and my decisions. The word open is beautiful because it’s expansive, inclusive, generous and caring. It doesn’t close itself off, the way I used to as a defence mechanism.

As always, this kind of inside work is never finished. It lurches along – messy, uneven, unpredictable and ripe with vulnerability. Sometimes I fall flat on my face. I get unreasonably pissed off by small things and the zen outlook I’m trying to cultivate flies out the window. But other times, the openness is like a window left open in my soul, where the cool breeze enters and leaves the whole place refreshed and renewed.

In Culture, Nurture, Parenting

How to Talk to Kids About our World

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

How do we talk to our kids about the raging mess that is our current world? A place where young girls are blown up at a concert, rights for women, the poor and immigrants are being stripped away by governments and elected politicians lie routinely about every damn thing under the sun. It’s dark out there, but glossing over it with our kids is not the answer.

Depending on the age of your children, these suggestions may have to be adapted, but the principles remain the same whether you have a preschooler, a tween or an almost-adult about to leave home.

How do we talk to our kids about the world? Here are my best ideas:

Honesty.

Evading, hiding and deflecting are strategies that don’t work. If you are anxious about the news (and if you feel chill and at ease about the world in 2017, you likely aren’t paying close enough attention), your children are, too. If you don’t talk about current events honestly with your kids, they will hear something at school or on the playground or at your in-laws’ barbecue and without some careful context provided by you, your kids are likely to feel way more upset by what they hear because it will carry the added power of secrecy with it.

It’s normal to worry about scaring them unnecessarily or getting your explanation wrong. You may do both but go ahead and talk to them anyway. Build that trust. Plant the seeds for a compassionate response. Know that scary situations are best borne together with the ones you love.

Questions.

Encourage questions. Ask things like, “Why do you suppose she believes that? What do you think will happen as a result of this world event? How do you feel when we talk about this?”

Questions are a beautiful entity. They help children understand that grownups may not have all of the answers, but they are willing to ask hard questions and pool a sense of knowledge for the greater good. Questions also provide a safe route to the hidden nooks and crannies in our hearts. They help us feel less isolated and alone.

Optimism.

This one is tough right now, but it’s important not to leave the discussion with a bleak sense that all hope is lost. Our kids are looking to us to be their lighthouse. We cannot allow them to dash against the rocks in the dark. It’s our job to be open and candid, but also to dig deep and put an optimistic spin on even the saddest, most desperate news story.

Try something alone these lines: “I know this is scary. I feel sad and worried, too. But I know that I am strong and capable and so are you. We will always stick together and show as much love and kindness and compassion to ourselves and to others as possible, and we will be okay.”

I truly wish we had a better state of current affairs so these conversations would be easier. But every one of us must play the cards we are dealt and model this courage to our children. It’s no good denying, hiding, distracting, blaming. Like the greatest heroes in history who have inspired us, it’s time to bravely meet circumstances as they are, with our kids beside us, and change the world by changing ourselves.

In Minimalism, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Relationships

More Beauty, Less Rushing

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

I’ve committed to waking up to the beauty and inspiration all around me. Far too often I notice I’m sleepwalking through life, going through the necessary motions of getting exercise, eating, trying to get enough sleep, writing, e-mailing, planning for the future, remembering to text or call friends, making sure the kids and husband are okay, watching Netflix and so on.

But when I really begin to pay attention, the minutia of existence falls away, just for a little, and I’m able to function in a different, more beautiful dimension.

On Monday, I dropped Ava at her dance class and stopped at Save-On for some groceries. As I pulled into a parking spot, Corey Hart’s “Never Surrender” came on the radio, so as all self-respecting people of a certain age would do, I pumped up the volume (see what I did there?) and stayed in the car until the song was over.

This gave me a chance to sing and look out the windshield for the brief interlude of one fantastic 80s song. Dusk was just beginning to descend, so the sky was that intense shade of blue, like the ocean after a storm. Clouds perforated the landscape, creating visual interest and texture.

Across from me was an old minivan, with the back hatch open. A young, bearded man sat there, reading a beat-up paperback book and stroking the soft head of an ancient dog lying with his head in the man’s lap. The scene was so gentle, intimate and stirring, it restored my hope and my focus. Watching for two minutes took me out of my harried modern world and restored me to myself.

Ava worked this weekend on a short film and on Saturday morning her set was a small park in North Vancouver. While the cast and crew blocked a complicated fight scene, my attention drifted to a dad pushing his eighteen-month-old daughter on a baby swing a few feet away. He stood in front of her and pretended she kicked him in the stomach every time the swing came forward. He said, “Ooof!” with a mock pained expression and the baby laughed every single time.

This game went on for about ten minutes. He never once glanced at his cell phone or seemed bored. He was utterly dialled in and present with her. Simply observing the connection between the two of them gave me an enormous lump in my throat.

Beauty is everywhere. I’m determined to create more of those moments in my own life. To stop rushing and to savour instead. To slow, to rest, to be enough, to cease hustling and proving. To recognize that success is how we define it and not what anyone else thinks or says.

Time is fleeting. Petting a dog while the sun sets or soaking up the giggles of your beloved child are worthwhile, important pursuits.

More beauty, less rushing. Awareness makes these gifts possible. They are right there, ours for the taking, with the power to change us for the better.

In Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth

My Son’s Gift

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
My Son’s Gift

William just celebrated his 11th birthday and I’ve been reflecting on how much our relationship has improved over the last 7 years.

I wrote extensively about the transformation in our relationship on my previous blog The Dream to Write (and some of it is covered in my essay collection Winter to Spring) but basically over a turbulent 6 month period when William was 4 and I was 37 we became restored to one other.

I just finished another edit of my unpublished manuscript Falling Backwards Into Grace and this section about William brings me to tears every time:

“William was the catalyst who forced me, kicking and screaming, to my knees. He eventually led me from performance to grace. My gratitude to my son is as limitless as the horizon of the sky; it goes on forever and will never reach an end, but of course I did not know that then.

In order to rebuild, we must first break down. When your faith and your worldview is built out of cards on quicksand like mine was, adding another flimsy layer will not address your mammoth foundation crisis. I had been adding more cards for so long that the whole structure was ready to collapse, and William’s personality was the match to light the flame and burn the whole useless thing to the ground.”

His refusal to bend to the pressure I placed on him saved me from my own invisible palace of denial, perfectionism and rage. He helped me warm up to my neglected personality qualities that had gone dormant but never fully disappeared. These qualities gave me back my authentic self.

I truly believe the best thing we can do as parents is to be open to truth, in any form, and be willing to let go of old ideas and fears that no longer add anything to our lives. This acceptance brings complete freedom, for it allows us to stop working for the approval of others and begin to finally own that right for ourselves.

William gave me this gift. It was the furthest thing from easy, but all lasting change brings agony at first. If you are in this kind of emotional pain right now, I urge you to keep going, for the only way out is through. Don’t retreat, longing for simpler shores. Keep trudging, for one day you will be different and so grateful you did not quit.

Happy Birthday, my wonderful boy. You’ve come a long way. I’m so proud of you. Marvellous things are ahead and I love that we will discover them together. I know that you can do hard things because I’ve seen you face them and conquer them already. It’s okay to be afraid. We are all afraid, but courage is your fear on the move.

If you are a parent, struggling with your beloved child, know that you are not alone. The meaning lives in the hardship and in the not knowing. Be open to owning your mistakes. Look for the truth beyond your limited interpretation of the events. Know that you and your kid are both good enough. You’ll make it through.

If you knew where William and I had once been – screaming at each other, fighting, fuming, accusing and blaming – you would be amazed at where we are now with our mother and son bond. Change and growth are entirely possible and I’m so thankful.