Showing all posts tagged September

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

Changes

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

I’ve always loved the beginning of September. Cooler weather, trees beginning to prepare for the upcoming dormancy of winter, back-to-school excitement in the air. It’s a time of fresh possibility and change.

I’m usually invigorated by it. But this year, I find myself mourning in a way I hadn’t anticipated. We took Ava to university on the long weekend, settling her into her new dorm experience at the University of Victoria. She deferred her acceptance last year when a housing shortage meant she couldn’t live on campus for her first year, so we had bonus time with her.

I knew I would miss her, but like everything in life, we don’t really know what we haven’t experienced yet. I worked with a counsellor, starting when Ava was in grade twelve, and she helped me with some excellent preparatory strategies for a child moving out, but the sadness still hit me with a ton of bricks on Sunday night when we hugged goodbye.

I cried. She cried. Her roommate began crying. Her roommate’s mom cried. Every woman in that tiny dorm room was crying. I knew she was going to be fine. I believed wholeheartedly that Ava was right where she was meant to be, and that once the initial rocky goodbye was behind us, she would find her footing and begin to thrive at university.

All of this has happened, and yet I still feel utterly bereft. I reached out to a few of my friends who have walked this road ahead of me, and it helps to know they all felt the same. Thrilled for their children, and proud as punch, but also undeniably grieving the loss of that child in their home in an everyday way.

The surprise for me has come in the way our family functions. Taking one person out of a four person equation means everyone has to adjust and change. I’ve realized now how much I enjoyed chatting with Ava, about everything and nothing all at once. How much we laughed at similar things. I never really noticed how our two-way relationship functioned until it disappeared. And now I really miss it.

Once her classes started on Wednesday, she’s called to tell me all about her new profs, and the friends she’s making, and what’s good and what’s not in the cafeteria. She sounds bright and happy, which is a wonderful thing. I know that we’ll all find our way through this change. It will take time. I also know that when she comes home at Thanksgiving, she’ll be a different person than the one we said goodbye to in early September.

This is the natural order of things. As parents, we take a dependent baby and turn them slowly into an independent adult. It’s an honour to see them coming into their own unique identity, and finding their way as young adults. But it’s also okay to admit that this change is hard on the parents. It leaves you adrift for a little while. I’m trying to be gentle with myself. She hasn’t even been gone a full week yet. It helps to know how other moms navigated these choppy waters.

My counsellor is amazing at reminding me to think about my coping strategies in other turbulent times. However I made it through before, is how I’ll make it through again. This really helps me. It’s healthy to love someone so much that their absence leaves a gaping hole. Like all pain, the only way out is ever through. One foot in front of the other. One day where you cry less than the day before. We are messy humans, having a messy human experience, and navigating key life changes will always be challenging.

But the good news is that we’ve made it through before, which means we have the skills required to make it through again.

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

New Season

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

I’m heading into a new season this fall, beginning my two-year full-time MFA program in Creative Writing at UBC. We’re meeting in person, which will be a huge change after moving online for the the last 18 months of my BA. With vaccinations available to everyone aged twelve and up this summer, it seemed possible for a “return to normal” in September, but classes begin next week and the variants are still spreading at alarming rates.

If we’ve all learned anything during this never-ending pandemic, it’s to expect change at a moment’s notice. We plan, and we hope, getting vaccinations when they are offered, wearing masks indoors to stay safe, thoroughly washing our hands, and trying not to take unnecessary risks. We have no guarantees, and we try to manage our fear.

In any new season, I usually feel a mix of joy and dread. This fall, I have lots of different emotions crowding to the surface. I’ve loved my five month break from academia. I’ve read loads of mystery and crime novels, slept in, watched some great TV, played cards with Jason and the kids, walked, practiced some yoga and wrote. My three guiding words in this season were: rest, relax, rejuvenate. I wanted to be prepared and ready for the new challenges of being a full-time MFA student.

Part of me mourns the end of the summer. The other embraces it with open arms, as I feel like I prioritized rest and leisure, so I hope I’ll see the rewards once I jump back in to classes and assignments. I’m also going to be a TA for the first time for an undergrad writing class. This both excites and scares me. We never really know if we are up to a challenge simply by thinking about it. We have to jump in and do it in order to really find out.

We have another unexpected change in the form of Ava taking a gap year before starting at University of Victoria. For an entire year, I’ve been emotionally preparing for her to leave home, grieving for her while she was still here living with us. And then at the end of July, we found out that she wouldn’t have a place to live on campus, so after a flurry of searching for off-campus housing that didn’t exist or was ridiculously expensive, Ava made the decision to defer her admission for one year. So she remains at home, working a couple of part-time jobs to save more money for school next year.

A lovely surprise because I don’t have to let go of her quite yet, but still a change that I wasn’t expecting. Next week, William starts grade 10 at a new high school in our district, so for him it’s a new season as well. Something in my nature loves predictability and certainty, but too much stability becomes stale. We do need a bit of variety and spontaneity to keep us engaged and growing.

The older I get, the more I understand that I can’t think my way through change. I just have to walk it out. Trying to forecast exactly what will happen is a fool’s errand. Situations are too complex for that type of guesswork. As we say in the recovery movement, an expectation is a premeditated resentment. I’m trying to “cherish no outcome” as a friend of mine says. Instead I choose to believe I’ll have what I need for the challenges ahead at the moment I need them. Not before and not after.

Tomorrow the calendar turns over to September and a whole new season begins. What’s in store for you this fall?

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

Fall 2020

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

Deep breath, everyone. Here we go, into a back-to-school season shaped like one ginormous question mark. We haven’t experienced this exact landscape before, one fraught with endless decisions to make, while wearing a blindfold.

Is full-time, face-to-face instruction safe? Is a hybrid face-to-face/online method better? What about full-time online at home for learning? My answer is: I don’t know. We are all whistling in the dark here, exploring the options our school districts are offering, while watching the news to see what’s working and not working against Covid in other areas of the country.

It’s a strange time. Usually I feel a surge of optimism when I turn the calendar to September, but this year the key feeling I have is uncertainty. I’m entering my second last semester of my Creative Writing BA, and I’m wondering why it’s not safe for me to return to in-person university classes and yet it’s okay for my high schoolers to have face-to-face instruction starting next week.

Part of me wants to move on and get back to some version of normal, but another part is anxious about BC’s rising Covid numbers and what that means when thousands of kids and teachers return to classrooms. The public health guidance for months has been around small bubbles, hand-washing, mask-wearing and extreme caution, which feels like whiplash when we contemplate returning to school, even with a number of new precautions in place.

The one thing I know for sure is that this is going to be a school year like no other. It will be disruptive and unpredictable. We will all need to practice patience and grace for one another as we try to navigate these choppy waters. It’s helpful to refrain from judgement when someone else’s Covid plan looks different from yours. We are all doing the best that we can in the midst of trying circumstances.

I spent time last week doing virtual Pro D sessions for some fabulous teachers in Kelowna. Most of them were feeling anxious and concerned. I did my best to remind them that you cannot pour from an empty cup. We have to put our own oxygen masks on before we can assist others in an emergency. Self-care first and foremost. Walk in nature, take deep breaths, journal, draw, meditate, stretch, sleep.

The prescription for Fall 2020 is flexibility, kindness, caution and self-care. Prepare for plans to shift and change with very little notice. Let’s take care of ourselves and each other. Check in with those you love. Acknowledge the fear but don’t let it take over.

We are going to need all of our resources for the challenges ahead. Six months have passed since the pandemic began in Canada, so we know more now than we did at the beginning. The best way to get through this challenging time is by caring for one another.

Deep breath. Here we go, with our fingers crossed.

In Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Relationships, Uncategorized

Back to School

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Back to School

Can you hear that sound? It’s silence, the kind that falls after parents have ushered their beloved offspring to a new year of school (well, you might hear cheering from some and weeping from others – both moms and kids – but here the biggest joy of all is the QUIET).

Other years, when my kids were smaller, I used to feel a bit melancholy on their first day. I would get so used to them being home over the long days of summer that I would miss them for the first week.

Now that Ava is grade nine and William is grade six it’s a different experience. They need to return to structure and see their friends. Both of them require challenges, apart from staring at inane Youtube videos all day long. My kids may have mixed feelings about going back to school, but I can see how necessary it is for them.

As our children get older, things change. For Ava, who has four years left of high school before embarking on her own life away from us, these precious last years under our roof take on a fresh significance. She is supposed to grow in independence and begin constructing an identity outside of our family and it’s important for us to support her in this quest.

We have good friends who just said goodbye to both of their university-age daughters. They are now officially empty-nesters. I’ve been texting with my friend about this process and I know it will be here all-too-soon for us as well. The key is to be present and to notice the stage that is happening right now, but also to transition into a more hands-off parenting style so we are all able to celebrate the coming separation instead of fighting it or mourning it.

William is in that in-between age of eleven. He’s not quite ready for the angst of the teen years but also not really a child. It’s a delicate stage, where one foot is on each side of a divide. He longs to be older but also wants to remain young and safe. We are working on encouraging him to step out of his comfort zone and to take more risks. School helps with this.

Every parent-child relationship is different and will require planning and strategy in order to find success. The beginning of September can be a particularly raw time. It’s exciting in one sense and scary in another.

As parents, we get to practice letting go of our children once again. This is their time: to make new friends, to cry and have their feelings hurt, to take risks and soar, to be embarrassed, to learn that if the first five experiments fail you can keep trying until you get where you want to go.

Happy back to school season to all parents and kids. May it be a marvellous year of discovery, compassion, fun and important life lessons learned.

In Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Speaking

Autumn

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Autumn

Well, here we are again at the end of summer looking towards autumn. I feel melancholy when transitions are upon us. I’m learning not to sweat this, but instead to allow it to have its way, for this is the process of change.

Ushering in a new season reminds us that nothing in this life stays the same for long. Perhaps this understanding is at the root of the sadness I feel. We cannot hold on, no matter how sweet the experience has been. We have no choice but to allow it to pass, to learn what we can from it and then give ourselves permission to move on. Anything else holds us back.

This fall Jason has a new job, I will be returning to university and increasing my hours as a speaker and background actor in film and TV, Ava will be starting grade nine and William is moving on to grade six. September tends to be a time to embrace new adventures, which is probably why I have a love/hate relationship with it.

Deep down, I know that I am capable of handling whatever is coming next. And I have no doubt that my husband and my children will be fine, too. And whatever you are facing, dear reader, I believe that your abilities will rise to greet the challenges in front of you.

I think it’s just the actual transition that really sucks. It’s hard, plain and simple, the process of moving from one known stage into an unknown one. We can only envision and imagine for so long. Eventually, the calendar page is turned and we must leap, with our best foot forward, into the next adventure. I hate the waiting, but it’s all part of the process.

Autumn is nearly here, with its cool breezes, return to sweaters, pumpkin spice lattes, crisp leaves, school buses, apple pies and other delights. I find it difficult to let go of this summer, because it has been so peaceful and happy compared to the chaos of last year. My natural inclination is to hang on, to remain where I am safe and secure, to refuse to press on.

Life is a long march forward. To stagnate is to eventually die. We must all challenge ourselves by boldly facing up to our fears and limiting beliefs. We only grow when we are challenged. Resting is a divine blessing and an important one, but if we are in leisure mode forever we’ll never achieve anything. The healthy balance to strive for is a teeter-totter of activity/stillness, people/solitude, challenge/security.

Fall is a prime opportunity to re-examine our boundaries, priorities and the way we spend our precious resources. Are we being invited to attempt something new? Will we need to sacrifice an item on our schedule to make room for another person or experience?

It’s normal to feel lost at the point of transition. It’s nothing we need to fix. If we let this sadness have its way, with a little luck it will pass right through us, opening the door to the next season, ripe with adventure and promise.