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In Culture, Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Politics, Relationships, Uncategorized, University

We are Safe and We are Loved

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

My go-to mantra when I’m on a turbulent flight is I am safe and I am loved. I repeat it over and over in my mind (and occasionally under my breath) until I feel calmer. The Covid-19 pandemic is a long, turbulent flight that we are all experiencing separately but at the same time, so in response I’ve altered my meditation to we are safe and we are loved.

Like most students, my university classes all moved online in the middle of March. When my spring semester finally ended in early April, one student in my virtual classroom said he was going to spend his quarantine time learning new languages. Several of my generous classmates responded, “Good for you” while I secretly thought, “Fuck you” (not remotely generous or kind).

It’s okay not to have ambitious projects in mind during a global pandemic. We are safe and we are loved, whether we are able to learn new languages or simply get out of our pajamas once in awhile and go for a 20 minute walk around the block. It’s not a competition to emerge smarter or stronger at the end of this. It’s more than enough just to survive this strange and unsettling time. Thriving feels like too much to me on most days.

A friend of mine said, “One day at a time, one hour at a time, one moment at a time” when the pandemic began. Usually I focus mostly on the hour increments. Sometimes the minute ones. Yesterday both kids agreed to join Jason and I on our afternoon walk (full disclosure: it’s because both kids had school assignments that involved getting outside). We passed an adorable girl who lives in our townhouse complex, playing outside with her mom. She’s about three, with curly hair and round glasses. Her face split into a huge grin when the four of us walked by. She waved frantically and shouted, “Hi people!” That was a good moment, standing out like red roses against a white wall in the never-ending uncertainty of the Coronavirus.

We are safe and we are loved. I don’t know when the Covid-19 nightmare will be over. I cannot say whether our world will be changed for the better or for the worse when some semblance of normality returns. Like everyone, I peer into the future and it’s a murky haze of barely indistinguishable outlines that won’t crisp up for months to come. We just have to wait, which is not my strong suit. There are no guarantees. But for now I can offer you this: we are safe and we are loved.

We will make it through this. If you are like me, you’ll be salty a few times a day to the people you love most, while occasionally feeling overcome with gratitude for this amount of time you get to spend with each other. You might be fearful of how we will reintegrate back into society again. Perhaps you are scared of getting sick, or part of you actually enjoys the prolonged downtime. Me too. I’m raising my hand right alongside you.

I am afraid and I’m also full of joy. To go back to the turbulent flight metaphor, it’s important to remember that all flights eventually end. We are all going somewhere, even if the destination is one giant question mark. When it’s bumpy, you are welcome to join me in my mantra we are safe and we are loved. Because, for now, we are.

In Culture, Nurture, Politics, Relationships, Uncategorized

Community Care

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

For the last few months, I’ve been leaning into the phrase community care. Now, with a COVID-19 global pandemic stirring up fear and uncertainty, it’s a critical time to examine what it means to move beyond self care and into a broader sense of helping one another.

If you’re like me, logging onto Twitter multiple times a day causes your anxiety to skyrocket (Rita Wilson, Tom Hanks and Sophie Grégoire Trudeau all have the virus??!). This week, every couple of hours we faced a new coronavirus cancellation or announcement. Uncertainty is the order of the day (will schools close, should we go to this event, how much toilet paper is reasonable to buy?).

One of the biggest downsides of the internet is constant access to information, particularly when what we read or watch may not be accurate. We are all informed, but not necessarily qualified to speak knowledgeably about complex medical, economic or political issues. I’m trying to listen to actual experts in these fields instead of someone spouting opinions. I’m hoping this will keep my fear level a bit lower.

Over the last week, my panic cycle went like this: This is the end game and we’re all going to die, go stock up on food and supplies, never leave the house again, cry over our tanking investments, lose all hope. (Overall, not very pleasant or helpful.)

Thankfully, these last few days I’ve been more careful about the articles I’m reading. I’m going for more walks and looking at Twitter less. The positive side of this is slowly taking shape for me, like a Polaroid photo sharpening into focus. A global health crisis can show us the worst of humanity, but also the best. This is the opportunity for community care: for us to take care of one another.

I’ve been developing a novel about a post-patriarchy world, where capitalism as we once understood it is destroyed and something new is built in its place. Perhaps this crisis is what we need to address rampant wealth inequality and profound selfishness. Maybe it’s an opportunity to hit the refresh button on our modern lives, where busyness and status are the insubstantial goals we strive for. If we want a fairer, kinder world, the old one must disappear so that we can imagine something better.

Our world is in a true crisis. It’s definitely scary and I’m not attempting to minimize that. But stories of people helping out their neighbours who are quarantined bring me so much joy. Our reliance on technology has isolated us from true connection with one another, but now we are seeing just how much we need each other when we are facing life and death issues.

It’s a time for community care. To stay home to contain the risks of spreading this virus too fast for our medical systems to keep up with those who are sick. To change the way we look at what’s happening; to see that our response to this crisis could make our society more compassionate and equitable. The way we save lives is by working together, not by panicking and attacking one another. Community care. We all need each other to survive.

In Culture, Identity, Personal Growth, Relationships, Speaking, Uncategorized, University, Writing

Nobody Knows Anything

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

In my presentation on risk, I have a slide called Nobody Knows Anything. I don’t mean this in a general sense, as lots of people know lots of things, but I mean it when forecasting failure or success. No publisher knew that Harry Potter would be the smash hit of the century. No scientist knows that his or her discover will be the next big thing in the field. Most artists die long before their work becomes popular and desirable by the masses.

A big part of the human experience is trial and error. This really sucks for the control freaks among us (including me). The goal when creating anything new is to allow it to exist without expecting so much from it. That sentence feels so light and easy to type and yet living it out remains a real bitch.

Nobody knows anything, so we should hold lightly to our ideas. I’m in a fourth year fiction writing workshop this semester where we offer feedback on each other’s short stories. It can be so hard to hear criticism, especially when the work is brand new and as its creator you aren’t even sure what it is yet. So often I dream of turning in a story and having a reader or my prof say, “Wow, this is perfect in every way. Don’t change a word. Magazines will be lining up to publish this brilliant piece of writing.” (Spoiler Alert: this NEVER happens.)

The key is not to base our sense of self-worth on any outside source. Ever. Praise comes and goes, just like criticism, and our sense of internal value should not rise and fall with people’s opinions. Confidence is always an inside job. I know this to be true, deep in my soul, and yet so often I become dragged down or obsessive about other people’s views, mistaking them for facts when they are only opinions.

Holding loosely is one of the great markers of happiness. Usually our pain comes from daydreaming about how a situation or a relationship is going to spool out. We imagine a certain outcome, and then when it doesn’t work out we feel betrayed, devastated, robbed. And yet the narrative we constructed was only in our own head. It was never real or guaranteed.

I am ridiculously guilty of this. Even though I know better, and have for years, I still daydream situations that have zero chance of occurring. Why do I do this? Likely because it feels good. It gives me a sense of control over life that in reality I simply do not possess. Why is it such a damn challenge to let life unfold the way it’s meant to and adapt to what actually happens instead of what I think will happen?

It does help to remember that nobody knows anything when it comes to predicting what most people like or don’t like. We have to trust in ourselves for the work we are doing. We have to hope it will translate to others and mean something to people beyond ourselves. Receiving critical feedback that is kind and helps to shape the work is beneficial, but a lot of what people say is not helpful and harms the initial risk we are courageous enough to take.

As Theodore Roosevelt reminds us in shortened form and with updated inclusive language, “It’s not the critic who counts, (but) the credit belongs to the (person) in the arena.” If nobody knows anything about what will ultimately fail and what will succeed, then the creator is the one who should believe in their work for as long as possible, without inviting other people to weigh in too early in the process.

In Uncategorized

Science Class

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Science Class

This month, I’m embarking on something I’ve never wanted to do but as it is required for my degree, I have no choice. I’m taking a science class.

I’ve decided to try Biological Anthropology, since I went to a Christian School and basically learned that the earth is around a hundred years old and God lovingly created each one of us by hand. Evolution and the origin of species are foreign concepts to me, but it feels like it’s time to pursue them.

Doing something new can be terrifying. I’m determined to push through this fear and go ahead in spite of the nervous twitches I experience in my stomach. I’m not looking forward to this class. I have a stellar GPA in my second year back to university and I don’t want to mess with it, but the point of this return to school is to learn, not to show off my shiny grades.

I spent a lot of time relaxing over the two-week Christmas break. I slept in, watched TV, indulged in delicious food and wine, read lots of books (if you haven’t read Liane Moriarty’s Nine Perfect Strangers, please go get it now and start. You can thank me later). The benefit of this downtime is a renewed energy for what’s ahead. A sense of hopefulness, even when I’m afraid, for getting on with it instead of bowing to my fear and staying in the same spot.

Treading water doesn’t get us where we want to go. Saying yes to what seems impossible is the growing edge. I’m learning to stand up and take my turn. I’d rather put something out there in the world than hang back and wish I had. Even when it doesn’t work out. Especially then, for the important lessons are usually gift-wrapped in the packaging of failure.

What are you trying for this January? What scares you? Lean in. Feel the butterflies and keep going anyway. Learn what there is to learn. I’m going to my first science class this afternoon with a brick of a textbook and a gaping hole where any evolutionary knowledge should be. But today I begin to fill that space, word by word and concept by concept, knowing that I’ll likely flounder and worry about looking like an idiot, but in the end I’ll have challenged myself and that is worth something.

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?