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

Letting Go

Julianne HarveySeptember 20, 2017

Ava went to a 3 day leadership retreat with her school this week. It was for the student government to plan events for the upcoming school year. She brought the paper home the first week of classes, her face alight with enthusiasm, and I felt, for a single moment, as though I was looking into the future with her away more than she’s at home.

It was both wonderful and sad, all at the same time (doesn’t that describe a lot of parenting experiences?). Our children grow up and away from us. Over time, we get lulled into a certain type of normalcy, with them coming and going, laughing, making messes, driving us up the wall. Then you begin to realize that quite soon, they will fly from our nests and begin their own adventures.

I get weary when I hear parents complaining about how much they miss the good old days when their kids were babies. This is not a post about that, for I don’t pine for that bygone era. Our kids are meant to grow older and more interesting and become who they really are. This process is fascinating and stimulating and I have no interest in holding it back.

But it does go by fast. If we do the work of parenting correctly, we are to take a dependent baby and turn that baby into an independent adult. This is the job posting every one of us signed up for when we chose to have children. Some days I find it easy to enjoy the fruit of my labours as a mom when I watch my son and daughter navigating the world on their own. Occasionally I feel as if I’m preparing them well for the rigours of our modern society.

Then there are the other days. The ones where I realize that in four short years Ava will be ready to start university. In two years she will be driving (our Alberta friends can see their teens driving now at fourteen but no such luck for Ava in BC). In grade nine there will likely be invitations to parties and events where we will need to practice, as parents, setting reasonable boundaries for her and then letting go and trusting that she will be safe.

At a certain point, we must trust our precious kids to make their own decisions. This is the preparation they need to be able to succeed in life. To bounce back from hardship, they first must experience hardship. We cannot protect them forever. We should not be protecting them forever.

So much of the job of parenting involves getting out of the way. Moving past our fear and believing that we’ve laid the groundwork for our children to discern right from wrong, to lead instead of follow, to learn from their mistakes.

I am incredibly proud of our fourteen-year-old daughter. She texted a few times from the retreat, happy updates about winning a game of Manhunt in the dark and the pouring rain by hiding in the brambles and dirt, eating pizza for lunch, staying up late chatting with her roommates from older grades.

I remember these types of things from my teen years. They are a rite of passage from childhood to adulthood. We want to support Ava in these adventures and experiences, but it does help to talk openly about what it feels like to be the parent instead of the child.

How do you practice letting go of your kids as they move toward independence and adulthood?

In Culture, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Relationships

Going Deeper

Julianne HarveyNovember 16, 2016Leave a comment

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.

What 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.

In Identity, Nurture, Personal Growth, Relationships

Rekindling Hope

Julianne HarveyNovember 1, 2016Leave a comment

When hope rekindles where you once felt empty and bereft, it’s like coming alive again. It’s the first twitch in your fingers, signalling that your coma is ending and you are returning to a state of normalcy again.

These last three months have been a true slog. Unpredictable, scary, lonely, exciting and sad, all boiled up together in a stew of change.

Every day, I tell myself to be kind and gentle in order to survive a series of hurdles to my preferred stable routines, but the relief of finally being in our own space again this past week has loosened something primitive in me. I’ve become unhinged, crying at random intervals and experiencing a near-catatonic internal state as a reaction to rising panic and dread.

I felt certain that my growth work of the last few years had been tragically reversed by this provincial move. I craved the order and calm I fought so hard to establish in Alberta, but it has eluded me at every turn since we’ve arrived in BC.

When will I learn to stop being so fatalistic and permanent with my dire predictions? When I’m under extreme stress, it’s important to recognize this and love myself through it, the way I would assist a friend, my husband or my kids. Instead, I decide that the jig is up and I’ll never be happy or peaceful again.

The type of upheaval we have gone through since the summer is bound to cause disruption. It must be my coping mechanism to forecast disaster in the face of what I cannot control. This is how I made it through childhood with a mentally ill and alcoholic father and an emotionally icy mother.

I learned not to count on anything. I anticipated the worst possible outcome so that anything less felt manageable. I’ve carried this unhealthy skill into adulthood and it hangs me up from time to time.

The solution is to acknowledge what is going on and to work at changing my fearful reactions. I’m the grown-up now, responsible for two children of my own. It’s up to me to model better responses for my kids to follow.

This too shall pass. Stress is not a permanent state. I’m responsible for my own mental health. When I feel unmoored and lost, like I do now, I must slow down and make the effort to reconnect with myself. Jason and I went on a dinner date this weekend and I had serious trouble vulnerably sharing with him. I realized it was because I was so far from myself.

At least I know what the job is now. I have to turn my signs of life back into actual life. It’s time to tend to my own soul; to find my equilibrium and the peace of mind I’ve been missing. Self care is a daily practice. When it’s neglected, nothing feels right or balanced. I have hope that I can return to my previous state of mental health if I give myself some time and effort.

In Identity, Nurture, Personal Growth, Relationships

Suspended Between Two Worlds

Julianne HarveyJuly 19, 2016July 18, 2016Leave a comment

Do you ever feel suspended between two worlds? It’s an uncomfortable sensation; one that stretches you and asks you to be flexible.

Going with the flow is not my strong suit, but fighting against the river’s current is a losing proposition. It seems to always come back to surrender. Acceptance, optimism, courage: elements that make our lives easier if we agree to stop fighting for the outcome we desire and just let it be.

We are quite suddenly moving to the Vancouver area because my husband has taken a new job there. “Sudden” is a tough concept for a Type A planner like myself, but my chief goal for this move is to stay calm, to proceed in an orderly manner toward the red exit sign instead of causing a panicky stampede.

I’ve experienced some success with this serenity and also some serious failure (accompanied by swearing, tears and generalized rage). We met with the realtor and the stager, then worked flat-out for four days before the appointment with the photographer. Our house went on the market less than a week after we discussed it with the realtor.

This accelerated timeline has left me breathless and off-balance. I leaned on friends for help, a spiritual practice good for my overall health, but that sensation of being between two worlds is uncomfortable and stressful. It’s a growing place; one that asks you to summon forgotten reserves of strength and grace.

The key is to refuse to give in to the fear and the “what ifs”. What if the house doesn’t sell, what if the timelines don’t match up, what if the endlessly shifting dates get too crazy and I can’t count on anything? All useless questions, driven by fear and anxiety.

Every one of us has uncertainties to face. We can either panic or remain calm. We can be paralyzed by fear or choose to trust that we are going to be okay. I keep thinking about the 2010 movie title The Kids Are All Right. I’d rather put my faith in that idea as it brings me peace.

Change is beautifully invigorating. It’s also hard and filled with unknowns. Like so much of this life, those two disparate concepts work hand-in-hand. You don’t get inspiration without risk. You don’t get love without pain. You don’t get adventure without fear.

I’m determined to take this move one task at a time. To try to remember that I cannot see the finish line from my starting position. I just have to keep moving, completing lap after lap, knowing that as I inch nearer to the end I’ll gain the experience I need to complete this particular race. And then there will be another one to suit up for and run.

All of life works this way – for me, for you, for everyone. The bitter right alongside of the sweet. The sad goodbyes and the joyous hellos. One person, with a foot in two different worlds, doing his or her best to stay calm enough to survive the challenges of each particular transition.

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

Self Care and Pride

Julianne HarveyMarch 15, 2016Leave a comment

I’ve noticed something in the last few literary salons I’ve facilitated: a link exists between self care and pride. Both words make people uncomfortable but in total different ways.

As a culture we have work to do in these areas. We’ve sped up the pace of our daily lives, causing the concept of self care to fall to the bottom of our to-do list. And we’ve also begun to define pride as selfish, egotistical, shameful.

Why do these two words (okay, three words but let’s lump “self care” together into one) make us squirm? I’ve heard women and men deflect away from questions centred on these ideas. In the two salons I ran yesterday in a high school, male and female students in grade nine and eleven shied away from anything involving pride and self care.

I find this fascinating. Like the brilliant Brene Brown’s research linking shame and vulnerability (not that I’m in the same league as my hero…see, there I go, qualifying what I’m about to say so it doesn’t sound too boastful), I am beginning to see that self care and pride are somehow connected.

I don’t understand it yet, but my Nurture is Valuable project ties in here (I’ve now interviewed 9 women on my way to my goal of 100 – please get in touch if you are willing to answer 5 short questions via email) and I want to pursue this further. We seem to feel afraid of our own strength. It’s uncomfortable to stand up and say, “I’m good at such-and-such. I’ve worked hard. I made/wrote/raised/cooked/organized/cold-called/created/cared for/succeeded at this.”

Why is it so challenging to own our abilities, work ethic and outcomes? When I wrote the question, “What is one thing you did last year that you are proud of?” I assumed it would be hard for women to answer but easy for men. WRONG. So far its stumped almost anyone who has drawn it randomly from a bag of questions, including straight A students and those with solid careers.

And self care baffles people across the age and gender spectrum too. I’ve had to define it over and over, and it still falls flat and lifeless among the different groups engaging in conversation. It seems to be arrogant to talk about our successes publicly and embarrassing to explore the topic of looking after yourself. How long has this been the case in our North American culture? Has it been brewing for years or for decades?

I’m going to dig deeper into this subject. Does anyone have thoughts that they would be willing to share with me? My work is taking me in this direction. Personally, I am longing for radical self care, anchored by strength and pride in who I am and what I can do in this world.

My heart aches for meaningful connection and intentional conversation with other like-minded people, which is the birthplace of the literary salon. I have identified my own need to learn to love myself, exactly as I am, so I can in turn offer this gift to others, for we can only give from our own overflow and not from our deficit. I have much to discover on this topic of self care and pride. Who wants to be part of this with me?