Showing all posts tagged summer

In Identity, Minimalism, Nurture, Personal Growth, Relationships, Spiritual Life, University, Writing

Recalibrate

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Recalibrate

My word for the summer has been recalibrate. Not in any scientific form, but a subtle yet intentional change to the way I function in the world.

The greatest aspect of this particular recalibration has been the decision to step back and allow the process to unfold organically. In previous versions of my self development, I’ve tended to force, cajole, urge and shame my change into being. I wanted it done now, dammit, and a specific way.

Not this summer. I felt inspired by a Facebook post from my friend in late June that said, “You have 18 summers with your kids. Don’t waste them.” I took these words to heart. I stopped looking at leisure time as wasted time. I mixed work with play and I felt a lot more relaxed and content.

This recalibration took the form of my general attitude shifting from something set into something more fluid. I tried to take things as they happened, as opposed to forecasting and planning too far into the future. I wrote in my journal a lot, without trying to be fancy or inspired. I just recorded what I was feeling and this practice helped me to slow down internally.

I’ve realized that the process of querying agents and facing a ton of rejection has tampered down my capacity to take risks and to write for the sheer joy of telling a story without thinking about whether or not that work can be published. I’ve just begun two university courses for the fall and both are centred on writing. I’m determined to challenge myself to grow in these courses and not expect that I’ll be the most stellar writer in the class.

Hopefully my spiritual recalibration this summer will offer me a fresh dose of grace and gentleness toward the writing that I do. In this season, I hope to simply be a better version of myself and write from that place with lowered expectations for jaw-dropping genius and a place on the New York Times Bestseller List.

One of my words for 2018 was enough. I can see how this word has been working on me over the last few months. I am enough, just as I am, and so are you. It’s easy to get stuck in a pattern of proving our worth, but this striving brings pain, shame and loss. Feeling like we are enough is a challenge, but it’s well worth the effort.

Part of recalibrating my attitude involves surrendering once again to the flow of this life. Forcing my hoped-for expectations on myself or others or situations is a fool’s errand. I long to swim with the current and not against it. Take it one day at a time, as the recovery movement teaches. Anything else is too uncertain and fraught with peril.

What we have is now. We have the people we love most. We have our own deep well of personality to excavate and mine. We have the chance for contentment, hope and peace. We have kindness, shown first to our fragile selves and then to the world around us. My soul recalibration this summer has given me a fresh perspective on all of these things. Knowing I am enough is a daily battle, but I will fight it, for these moments are precious ones and I want to be fully awake to experience them.

In Minimalism, Nurture, Parenting, Relationships

Summer

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Summer

About this time of year I usually feel conflicted. I’m excited about the leisurely pace of summer and a break from the usual school year routine, but I also hate the idea of giving up my solitude when kids are home every day.

For her grade 10 year, Ava has made the decision to try online schooling instead of attending every day. She’s a motivated student who wants to be able to work more in film, TV and theatre so hopefully this path will be a good one for her to try. This means that Ava will be working at home with me when she’s not on set or auditioning. I’m realizing that I will need a bit of time to adjust to this concept.

I know I’m not alone in feeling melancholy at the end of June. I’ve spoken to many other parents who also experience this catch in the throat when you consider just how fast the years are flowing by. We had dinner with friends this weekend who have two kids the same ages as ours, and around the table we exclaimed, “Can you believe the girls only have 3 years of high school left?”

As parents, you know somewhere in the back of your mind that the day is coming when you will put yourself out of a daily job. But it arrives so slowly and with such cunning sneakiness that it still takes us by surprise. We can imagine our kids at every single stage, from a newborn in our arms to a mouthy preschooler then a twiggy elementary student and now a grown-but-not-yet-grown teenager. To them it has taken a long time. To us it has not.

Oh to love our kids enough to let them grow into who they are most meant to be without trying to force our own agendas on them. Letting go is not my strongest suit. I want to remain necessary to my kids; to continue to be vital to them. And yet they grow more independent with each passing year, sprouting wings that will one day take them far from me.

Perhaps all we can do is feel the sadness and the melancholy, and then allow a stealing sense of joy to inch into our being. To see these beloved children grow into healthy teens and then adults is the fulfillment of a dream that some parents don’t get to see, for a variety of reasons. If the goal of successful parenting is to turn a dependent baby into an independent adult, then watching that child mature over the months and years is something to be celebrated, not mourned.

All of the feelings belong. None of them are wrong or shameful. It’s important to bring them out into the light, to care for them and notice what’s working and what’s hurting. I’m going to take this summer to be aware of how fast the time is passing and to squeeze as much as I can from the time I get to spend with my kids while they are still living full-time in our house.

More card games and impromptu evening walks or swims. More laughter and hugs. Really looking at one another and listening when my loved ones are talking to me. Not just this summer, but always, for these things are the ones that really matter and will endure in our memories.

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.

In Nurture, Parenting, Writing

Finishing Strong

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

At the end of June, most moms (and some dads) are limping over the finish line, just trying to survive the chaos that comes with the end of each school year and the transition into summer.

When my kids are tired, I tell them, “Try to finish strong.” I use this phrase myself to get through one more wind-up, field trip, teacher gift, bag of junk precious memories that comes home from school.

Usually, the end of June also means rushing to hit a series of writing deadlines so I can go into the summer with no articles due or strenuous daily word counts to hit when I’d rather be taking my kids to the pool or the beach.

There were a few deadlines I did not make and this work will carry into the summer. But yesterday I did type “The End” (the most blessed two words ever for a writer) on the first draft of my current manuscript, one I’ve been working on for the last eighteen months. I can tell you that it felt amazing to be finished, especially because we are going on vacation next week and I can put this story away to let it breathe before edits and get busy dreaming about the next book.

Any large project follows a series of steps. There’s the initial excitement, then the long, dreary middle, followed by the boredom with it when you just want to be done, and finally the actual end when you are sick of the whole thing. Finishing strong is an important concept for everything in our lives. If we don’t quit, we eventually see the fruit of our long labour. Yesterday I felt that satisfying rush that comes with not giving up.

Now I’m turning my energy and enthusiasm toward the summer. Today I soak up the beautiful silence of my house as I will be sacrificing this particular pleasure beginning on Friday. But I will also be gaining lazier mornings, coffee on the deck in the sunshine, impromptu visits outside with friends, later bedtimes and a sense of relaxed leisure. A chance to make new and lasting memories by slowing down and noticing more.

Happy summer, friends. Finish strong (or as close to it as you can manage). Then jump into summer with a light heart and a peaceful smile. I hope I run into you while I’m outside with my book or splashing in the water. We don’t get these precious days back. Enjoy them while they are here.