Winter Solstice

I haven’t written here for months, due to my schedule as a full-time MFA student and being a TA at UBC, so the shortest day of the year (or more accurate at the end of 2021, might be the longest night of the year) seems like a good day to write a post.

How’s everyone doing? It’s rough out there, with Omicron running wild and those of us who got vaxxed wondering if it will work to protect us after all. It’s cold, it’s dark, we’re tired, nothing is certain. And yet, from this point forward, we get just a smidge more light and hope every day as we inch toward the summer solstice.

I’ve always loved these last few days before Christmas, but this year everything feels a little harder than most years. The joy is there, but muted somehow.

Our house flooded in early October, making an already stressful fall significantly worse as we experienced constant disruptions and noise with restoration and construction for two months. A friend commented, “A flood? Sheesh. You’d think a pandemic would be enough…” which made me laugh in spite of my frustration.

Like so many of us this year, I limped to the finish line this month in my first term as a graduate student. I learned a lot, met some really cool writers, and improved my work. Those were the pluses, but the bone-deep weariness was a real issue, affecting my ability to focus by mid-November.

The amazing prof I worked with as a TA in term one routinely told our TA team, “We are all carrying more than we think we are right now. We need to be gentle with ourselves and each other, admitting when it’s too much and asking for help.” I think about this a lot.

Here we are, on the first day of winter, in a pandemic that keeps changing. I remind myself every day to hold loosely and to keep my expectations low. We plan and then we’re forced to amend those plans. We try to stay calm, to look after ourselves and others, and to extend grace because we know everyone around us is also hurting.

Soon, there will be more light. When we are exhausted, we must rest, so we have enough energy to continue on. Eat all the chocolate, my friends. Treat yourself. Carve out time to do whatever it is that makes your soul feel light and happy. We will make it through this.

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a happy New Year!

Laryngitis

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.

Minimalist Meet-Up

Minimalist Meet-Up

Last week, a woman new to minimalism reached out on Facebook to ask if any minimalists lived in her area. She was beginning to purge her possessions and wanted some advice and support from others who are walking a similar path.

I responded right away and we messaged back and forth a bit. Soon a few other minimalists commented as well, and we had ourselves a minimalism coffee date planned for the weekend.

It’s so refreshing to pass along what we know to someone else who is interested in what we have to say. We can also be helped by remembering what it was like at the beginning, when everything is new and overwhelming, and offering a few kind words of support can go a long way.

I felt energized by our meet-up. It’s a wonderful thing at this time of the year, with Black Friday and Cyber Monday advertisements pounding us from all sides, followed shortly by the onslaught that is the Christmas marketing machine, to realize yet again that spending money and accumulating possessions are choices under our direct control.

In no particular order, these were some of the things we discussed at our meet-up:

Finances

We encouraged our new friend to take a good look at where she and her husband spend their money. For me, this was a wake-up call. When you know how much you are spending every month, it can help you make better choices going forward. Our goal is to have no debt other than a mortgage. We are not there yet, but we’re closer than we’ve ever been and that feels fabulous.

Schedule

A big part of the minimalism lifestyle is learning to manage your schedule. No longer conforming to our culture’s obsession with being crazy busy feels awesome. We encouraged our new friend to say no to more things that don’t bring her joy or life and to work at creating space in her calendar. This is one of my favourite parts of my minimalist lifestyle.

Possessions

The woman who reached out to us set aside 3 days to do nothing but purge items from her house. I applaud this effort, but I certainly didn’t have that kind of stamina when I first went through my rooms, closets, drawers and garage. I set a timer for 15 minutes per day and only tackled small, manageable areas. Sure, it took me months, but this system worked well for me.

Maintenance

Those of us who have been minimalists for awhile cautioned her about the maintenance it requires to keep your counters clear of clutter and your drawers from piling up with junk again. Purging once is not enough. You have to be vigilant with everything that comes into your house. I try to deal with papers and shopping right away, making sure it all has a proper place in my home, otherwise the piling up starts to snowball quickly.

Mindset

Becoming a minimalist requires you to change your thinking so that your buying patterns change. Otherwise, you will just be on an endless rat wheel of consuming, purging and re-organizing. We’ve radically changed the way we buy, using lots of little tips and tricks.

Want to hear more? Come join us at a Minimalist Meet-Up or drop me a line and ask away!

Going Deeper

Going Deeper

I sat down to write my blog yesterday and for the first time in six years I had literally nothing to say. I started and erased four different entries before giving up.

The U.S. election has put me in a funk. I’m fighting my way out of a cloud of uncertainty, fear and barely suppressed rage. It’s awful to watch something unfolding and have no compass for understanding why it’s occurring. I hate the direction the culture of the world is heading in. It feels like stepping back in time and losing all societal forward progress toward acceptance, freedom and kindness.

Today I feel marginally stronger and able to marshall my flying thoughts in one direction. I long to go deeper. The answers are not found on Facebook, Twitter or by watching so-called “experts” on the news. This is the way of madness; futility and bleak predicted outcomes that have no basis in reality.

going-deeperWhat helps is sitting still and breathing. Praying. Being generous to ourselves so we can give to others without burning out. Remaining calm when the world is burning is an act of radical courage. Peace provides a balm that soothes frayed nerves and overworked minds.

It takes a lot of willpower for me to stop forecasting disaster scenarios and listening to other people’s doom and gloom doesn’t help me break this cycle. The world has not ended. The sun continues to rise and set and our loved ones are still all around us. Our kids need us to show them the way through. Bravery is the currency we need right now.

Answers are found in stillness, not in social media. I’m weary of my own opinions and everyone else’s. When nothing is clear, go deeper inward, to the place where peace is buried. It’s there, under the noise and the strain and the worry. It’s in each of us, a lit candle in the fiercest, blackest storm, and I’m determined to find it and shelter its flame.

We need each other, now more than ever. It’s helpful to reassure and encourage when so much of the Internet is aflame with anger and insults. We are all just trying to find our way. We want the best for our children. We do what we think is best so gentleness is paramount, even when we cannot grasp why this series of events has unfolded and we have strong feelings about it.

I’m so glad Christmas is coming. This year, more than ever, I’m desperate for hope, love and a promise of peace. If I want stability in the world I must first create it in myself. And so must you. Let’s link hands in the darkness and whisper, “We are okay. I’m here with you.” This will help. So will going deep to find that place of stillness and comfort. It’s always darkest right before the sun rises and we get another day to do some good for ourselves and for others.