Showing all posts in Parenting

In Books, Identity, Minimalism, Movies/TV, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Relationships, Speaking, University, Writing

Capable

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

I loved my word “renewal” for the summer, so I’ve decided to keep the idea rolling for the fall. I picked “capable” as my theme, because I’m returning to university two days per week to take three classes for the first time. It feels daunting to add in an extra class when I’m already writing, speaking, doing background work in the film industry plus the usual marriage/parenting/friendship gigs.

Capable seemed like the right fit to boost my confidence going into this busy three-month semester. When I choose a word, I try to get quiet, closing my eyes and allowing the right word to come to me. Capable was the first and the best. I sit with it for a bit, allowing it to permeate my mind, and if it doesn’t go away, I figure it’s meant to be.

Working on renewal this summer was a beautiful experience. When I slept in, I didn’t feel lazy, because my focus was on rest. I read, wrote, swam, and watched some incredible TV with Jason and the kids (Mindhunter, Chernobyl, Barry, Schitt’s Creek, BH90210 – okay, that last one is not incredible, just a guilty pleasure I gave as a gift to my teenage self).

I’m aiming for a similar focus this fall. So often, we are capable of much more than we think we are. I’m tired of selling myself short. I long to be intentional about my commitments and my time. When I say I’ll do something, I want to meet that challenge with courage and curiosity. I want to believe I’m capable before I start, so I’m hoping this word will help me move closer to this goal.

As we all turn the page on summer and look to the fall, may we feel capable and strong. We can do more than we think we can. Now is the time to set our intentions and then rise to meet the challenges that will come our way. If you need a cheerleader, I’m here to stand beside you and remind you of how capable you are. When I’m knee-deep in homework and tests I might need you to return the favour. Here’s to fall!

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

Renewal

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Renewal

My word for the summer of 2019 is renewal. I want to rest, first and foremost, but with the intention that the rest is leading me somewhere new.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about fresh ideas. In our current social media-frenzied world, where trite memes are shared by the millions every hour, thoughts that carry some weight and meaning are more valuable than ever.

I had coffee with a new friend recently, and when I told her about the speaking and writing I’m doing, she offered me her marketing services. “We’ve got to let more people find you,” she said. My answer was, “I don’t want everyone to find me. Only those who are really invested in the kind of work I’m doing.”

I’ve been ruminating on this conversation, because when she said that short videos could help me reach a wider audience, I could see that this was probably true, but I said, “I don’t want to do what everyone else is doing.” To me, the interesting part of the work is innovating a new way to communicate and operate. I want to focus on my own path, not trod the same one others are already walking.

Which leads me back to renewal. Ideas are valuable and we must nurture ourselves in order to be in the right frame of mind to implement them. Having a crazy busy schedule doesn’t allow space for innovation to bloom. Rest, white space and peace are required ingredients for the work of renewal.

Lately, I’m understanding just how critical rhythm is to creativity. We need a dormant phase for the ideas to develop and grow in the dark, before they are ready to inch forward into the light. It’s lovely to feel the stirrings of something new and refuse to give in to the temptation to rush the process. This summer, I’m determined to allow renewal to happen by making the space for it.

This past week, we celebrated William’s graduation from grade 7 and Ava passing her written test for her learner’s driving license. High school for William and driving for Ava: two new steps to fit into this summer theme of renewal. I’m so ready to leave elementary school behind with its daily agenda messages, endless parent emails and field trip driving. On to the next stage.

Happy start of the summer to all of you, my wonderful and treasured readers and friends. May we all experience renewal in our spirits, bodies, minds and hearts.

In Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth

Releasing Those We Love

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

When I practice releasing those I love, I think about Cheryl Strayed’s beautiful phrase, “Acceptance is a small, quiet room.” Those words soothe me, every single time.

Today I need to hold this idea close, as William left this morning with 70 over-excited grade 7 kids on an outdoor ed camping adventure. My son is not a person who enjoys rugged outdoor activities, new culinary tastes, sleeping away from home or doing anything remotely challenging or stressful. These factors all added up to why he desperately needed to go.

When I dropped William off with his sleeping bag, pillow and suitcase in the gym, one of the grade 7 teachers said to me, “These kids are anxious because they think about stuff instead of actually doing it.” I’ve been spouting a version of this for years and intellectually I know it to be true, but the emotional pull of our children’s fear is a powerful magnet for a parent.

When the trip was first discussed at a meeting early in 2019, several parents gasped audibly when the teachers said NO cell phones would be allowed on this outdoor ed trip. We’ve all become accustomed to reaching our kids to check in or help them solve problems. The concept of the kids being on their own for three days is a harder sell in our texting world than it would’ve been in my own childhood thirty-some years ago.

I know he’s going to do fine. They all will. At thirteen, kids need to practice building memories and skills apart from their parents. Jason was willing to sign up as a chaperone, but William insisted he wanted to go on his own. So we took him at his word, even as the trip drew closer and his anxiety began to bloom.

These next three days are a wonderful opportunity for me to release William. He’ll need to solve his own problems, create his own memories, confront his own fears. We’ve helped him get to this point, and we believe he’s ready for this step (even if he’s not entirely sure). I will continue to think about him, wondering how his activities, meals and bedtimes are going, but I will stay in that small, quiet room of acceptance.

As parents, we have to practice for the next stage along with our beloved kids. We cannot hold on, begging them to stay small and dependent. The job is to nurture a dependent baby and turn them into an independent adult. Each step the parent and the child takes toward this goal is important, so that when the day comes for them to pack up and move out, we have all improved at releasing those we love to find their own way.

In Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Speaking

Enough

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Enough

In 2018, I was determined to live into the idea of being enough. To slow down, to settle in, to rest in the notion that more of anything was not the answer to this particular question. What I needed was to look around and appreciate what I already had.

I experienced varying degrees of success with this goal. Overall, when I look back over the last year, I can see that I’ve made progress. Like all growth, it’s slow and messy and often gruesomely ugly. But it’s there.

We were in Victoria last weekend for me to speak at a teachers’ conference, and on the ferry home I watched Jason lean forward to whisper something to Ava. She pushed her headphones back to listen, then she smiled. William stopped whatever he was doing and inched closer to hear the exchange. I didn’t hear what was said and it doesn’t matter, but in that second my priorities shifted and crystallized to reveal to me that I am enough for them and they are enough for me.

Those of us with less-than-stellar childhoods tend to work ourselves to the bone for the approval of others. We can feel like frauds, or like we don’t belong in certain company, and this “otherness” drives us to prove that we belong. In essence, we are constantly striving to earn our keep, but unconditional love doesn’t require a list of our accomplishments. It says, “You are enough, just because you exist. You matter regardless of how thick or thin your resume is. Come in, sit by the fire, get warm and cozy. You are safe here.”

My whole life I’ve been waiting to have those words sink into my soul and remain there. I said them for decades, but failed to believe them. I poured the idea of being enough into a bucket but the bucket was shot through with holes: insecurity, fear, shame, imposter syndrome, competition. It’s taken me a long time and a shitload of effort to plug those holes so the water will hold for a bit in the pail. This is the work of a lifetime, but inching closer feels damn good.

I’m going to turn 46 very soon. Being halfway through life (if I’m fortunate) offers a meaningful perspective. I don’t want to waste more time worrying about what I can’t control. It’s time to  stop incessantly striving toward my goals without pausing to enjoy what I’ve achieved to this point. I want the courage to just be the person I’ve fought so hard to be. And know that this is more than enough.

In Minimalism, Nurture, Parenting, Relationships

Summer

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Summer

About this time of year I usually feel conflicted. I’m excited about the leisurely pace of summer and a break from the usual school year routine, but I also hate the idea of giving up my solitude when kids are home every day.

For her grade 10 year, Ava has made the decision to try online schooling instead of attending every day. She’s a motivated student who wants to be able to work more in film, TV and theatre so hopefully this path will be a good one for her to try. This means that Ava will be working at home with me when she’s not on set or auditioning. I’m realizing that I will need a bit of time to adjust to this concept.

I know I’m not alone in feeling melancholy at the end of June. I’ve spoken to many other parents who also experience this catch in the throat when you consider just how fast the years are flowing by. We had dinner with friends this weekend who have two kids the same ages as ours, and around the table we exclaimed, “Can you believe the girls only have 3 years of high school left?”

As parents, you know somewhere in the back of your mind that the day is coming when you will put yourself out of a daily job. But it arrives so slowly and with such cunning sneakiness that it still takes us by surprise. We can imagine our kids at every single stage, from a newborn in our arms to a mouthy preschooler then a twiggy elementary student and now a grown-but-not-yet-grown teenager. To them it has taken a long time. To us it has not.

Oh to love our kids enough to let them grow into who they are most meant to be without trying to force our own agendas on them. Letting go is not my strongest suit. I want to remain necessary to my kids; to continue to be vital to them. And yet they grow more independent with each passing year, sprouting wings that will one day take them far from me.

Perhaps all we can do is feel the sadness and the melancholy, and then allow a stealing sense of joy to inch into our being. To see these beloved children grow into healthy teens and then adults is the fulfillment of a dream that some parents don’t get to see, for a variety of reasons. If the goal of successful parenting is to turn a dependent baby into an independent adult, then watching that child mature over the months and years is something to be celebrated, not mourned.

All of the feelings belong. None of them are wrong or shameful. It’s important to bring them out into the light, to care for them and notice what’s working and what’s hurting. I’m going to take this summer to be aware of how fast the time is passing and to squeeze as much as I can from the time I get to spend with my kids while they are still living full-time in our house.

More card games and impromptu evening walks or swims. More laughter and hugs. Really looking at one another and listening when my loved ones are talking to me. Not just this summer, but always, for these things are the ones that really matter and will endure in our memories.