Your Little Corner

Your Little Corner

I honestly don’t know what to say anymore. People are being slaughtered weekly with assault rifles in our neighbour to the south and those in power have zero interest in doing anything about it. The president lies, every single day, and on top of that makes racist, misogynist and offensive comments and faces no real consequences for any of it.

My rage is on a slow boil and has been for a long time, but it’s wearing me down. I feel bruised, deep in my soul, and hopeless that nothing is changing. This is not the world I want my kids to grow up in, but I can’t fix these massive problems.

What I can do is focus on my own little corner. You have one too. The people and the pets and the hobbies that you love reside here. You can look after them (and this includes your own beautiful self). You can grow a flower or bake a delicious cake. You can watch a movie or a TV show that helps you escape the horror of the world or gently ushers you toward a fresh outlook. You can read a book that has the power to transform you.

I’ve been making my way through Hillary Clinton’s book, What Happened, and as excellent as it is, I had to stop reading for a bit as what could have been was simply too raw. (Side note: If you don’t like HRC, you are welcome to your opinion, but I don’t want to hear it right now. She is being unfairly bashed online constantly and I’m not allowing that nonsense on my watch).

For a break from real-world pain, I picked up a People magazine borrowed from the library and put it down immediately after reading the headline “Taking Down a Hollywood Predator” with Harvey Weinstein’s mug front and centre. No thanks. More suffering in the form of patriarchy gone wild with power and abuse. I needed something else to inch back toward hope in humankind.

Thankfully, the brilliant Celeste Ng’s newest novel, Little Fires Everywhere, was in for me on the hold shelf. I raced to the library to get it, having just finished her debut, Everything I Never Told You, which broke my heart but in such a healing and redemptive manner. If you haven’t read Celeste Ng, please put these two books at the top of your TBR pile. Her talent is awe-inspiring.

This brings me back to my little corner. I’m finding it really, really, really challenging to write blogs right now. Everything I want to say is too raw and unfiltered – too brutal for human consumption. I start to type it and I can’t get it to sound right. So I backpedal and feel like I’ve failed. I know I’m not adding anything meaningful to the conversation. But maybe that’s okay. Perhaps what I’m meant to do in this god-awful time is just to say, “I’m here too. I’m hurting, just like you. Let’s look after ourselves and our loved ones.”

Anne Lamott tells a story in one of her books about planting a certain type of tulip that only blooms for a few days each spring. She was complaining to a friend about it, saying, “What is the point of all that work to only enjoy the flowers for 4 or 5 days?” Her friend’s answer? “The point is those 4 or 5 days.”

I’d like that lesson to patch up my hope so I can keep going. It doesn’t seem like enough. But when it’s all we have, perhaps that will have to do. I’m going to tend to my little corner while you tend to yours. Maybe, just maybe, it will temporarily brighten up the world and help us find the solutions we need for harmony, peace and optimism again.

Lost

Lost

I’m feeling lost. After a surge of excitement and scheduling after a big writers’ conference, I’m now floundering with so many possible projects to pursue and no clear direction on what should be the top priority.

Do you ever feel that way? Rudderless, slightly adrift, believing that it will all make sense eventually but for now you simply exist in a fog of too much of everything.

The cure, in the past, has been to embrace my frail humanity. To acknowledge that I am not a machine. Perhaps the worst part of being lost is the shame associated with our humanity. I want to feel like a world-beater, not a sad, confused person making my way through the dark on my own.

Life is made up of seasons. Some are bright, clear, happy. Others are murky, painful, baffling. Extending grace for the hard times certainly helps. I don’t have trouble offering love and nurture to those around me who are suffering, but when it’s me, the rules seem to change.

Eventually, the light will shine again and I’ll have a better sense of where I’m heading. I suppose I simply have to wait for that, and do the best I can in the meantime. Gentleness is the key here. Inching forward toward your goals, little by little, is better than no movement at all. After so many years of struggling with patience, you’d think it would begin to come easier. And yet it remains elusive.

I stayed after my creative writing class to chat with my professor about the number of projects I’m working on. She encouraged me to narrow my goals to four things and write them on an index card. I had a terribly hard time getting the list to four. I initially cheated and wrote eight by using slashes, essentially creating two categories out of one line.

After looking at this card for a few days, I realized there was too much on it. I worked at it again, creating four clear categories in my work life. Suddenly it was a little bit clearer, but I still feel overwhelmed.

What helps you when you feel lost? Do you wait it out? I’d love to hear any of your strategies.

Stay the Course

Stay the Course

How we handle stress reveals us on a primal level. We have nowhere to hide when the pressure builds. Do we blow up, retreat, soothe with food, shopping, alcohol or sex, or do we face it head on with grace and calm?

Very few of us do the latter, but it’s a new goal for me. I know that the time to prepare for stress is when the seas are still, not wild with uncertainty. We prepare for hardship in the peaceful times, by developing skills that will see us through the bumps that are sure to come in the future.

Confidence is always an inside game. We are sunk if we hinge our self esteem on any outward achievement or praise, for these are fickle and will certainly fade. Our surest hedge against internal or external disaster is to stoke the fires of our belief in ourselves on a regular basis. Waiting until the stress arrives means we are too late.

stay the courseI’ve been living this out lately, after a turbulent period of suffering. Those old demons that hunch on my shoulder and plague me with taunts of being less-than, not good enough and worthless have finally quieted down. I simply waited them out and in time they got bored and went on to irritate someone else.

Half of this life is just outlasting what tries to defeat us. It’s important to stay busy with other pursuits to minimize the dark forces working to pull us under.

I’m loving this season of internal calm. It’s that dewy, clean feeling after a hard rain. It’s less a triumph than a relief that this particular storm has ended and patches of blue sky are visible once again.

All I know is that it helps to do our internal work each and every day, especially when we see no obvious evidence of it. If we stay faithful to our soul, when the tough times mysteriously end we will see the benefits of this devoted attention.

If you are hurting right now, with no clear answers or insights, simply stay the course. Nourish yourself with the gentle sustaining routines. Wash your face, apply sunscreen, listen to happy music, drink water, eat your vegetables (and also chocolate). Pain doesn’t last forever. Neither does self-doubt, fear and worry. One day, you’ll wake up and feel contented, hopeful, a little bit more secure in your own brave identity.

You are likely doing better than you think you are. I say this to myself as a mantra when all seems lost. Life can be rough with many mountains to climb, but we can do it if we pack the right gear and we train for the trail so we are prepared.

Gentleness and courage are suitable bedfellows for the calm times and the terrifying ones. One day, in the very near future, you will experience a personal breakthrough. You’ll feel different, you’ll see the world in a new way, and all of that constancy in the darkness will get you to that unforeseen moment of light.