Showing all posts tagged university

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

Hello Fall

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

Last week I wrote in my Ruby Finch Books newsletter about how much I love fall, but I realised there was more to say, so I thought I’d do an update here.

Every single year, as the calendar changes from the loosy-goosy days of summer to the more structured routine of September, I feel a lift in my spirits. I know there are some people who feel joy when the temperature rises, but I’m a fall girl through and through.

The fuzzy pajamas and thick warm socks. Boots with jeans and long-sleeved shirts again. A light jacket with a pocket to hold my car keys. Using the oven to cook dinner without thinking about how hot the house will get. Survivor and The Amazing Race on Wednesday nights. School starting up, which means a quiet house, where most days I’m the only one in it besides our two cats.

William is starting grade 12, which signals the beginning of the end of children at home. It feels strange – both sad and freeing in equal measure. For the last fifteen years, we’ve done a back-to-school routine like many parents before us involving fresh school supplies, first-day outfits, new shoes, lunch kits, and posed photographs in the same spot every year, with tears from William and wide grins from Ava.

But now we are at the end of this predictable series of post-Labour-day events. Ava left home in mid-August for her two weeks of Community Leader training at UVic, where she’s starting her second year in the theatre program, and William is beginning his final year of high school. When he graduates, we will have two adult children, and be on the edge of an empty nest.

My friend Susan posted about this phenomenon on Facebook, saying that there’s so much support for new parents, and so little for those at the end of the journey. And of course it’s not the END, in any final sense, as our grown kids will continue to need us for years to come. But this transition – from parents of kids who live at home and are considered minors under the age of eighteen, to having them be grown-up adults – is a big one.

I felt melancholy about it for a few days at the end of August, but once school actually began last week, the sadness evaporated and became something suspiciously close to contentment. It feels like I’m nearing the finish line on a job I’ve done well, with a lot of highs and lows in equal measure, but I showed up and I gave what I could and now I can glimpse a future that involves Jason and me without two kids at the centre of our marriage and family life.

Around two years ago this thought scared me shitless. Some of those fears are what I’m exploring in the new book I’m writing on The Negative Space – all the things we didn’t get or cannot see that make what we do possess have meaning and value. It’s pleasant to consider coming to the end of the day-to-day responsibilities and stresses of parenthood, while recognising that this transition, like every change in life, costs us something. We give up something, and receive something different in return.

This is also the first September in 6 years that I haven’t been a university student. Like the parenting changes on the horizon, being free of student deadlines and homework and classes is both unmooring and exciting in equal measure. I’ve started a publishing imprint and I’m busy building a company, offering online writing classes, launching a YA book next month, planning the publishing of my thesis novel in 2024, and writing a new memoir. It’s exhilarating to be doing work that isn’t designed to impress professors or agents or editors, but is something I can do simply because I believe in it myself. Having this be enough is like pure oxygen. It’s invigorating and restoring.

Well, I planned to write about our 3.5 week Europe trip this summer and what I discovered about myself, but this fall post became something else. And I love that. I’ll write again about the trip, because I’m still working through how I feel and what changed for me while travelling abroad, but for now I’m leaning into my Ruby Finch Books motto – intuitive courage – and trusting that where my intuition leads is worth following.

How are you feeling this fall? Any big changes on the horizon?

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

Fall 2022 Retrospective

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

I can’t believe I haven’t written a post since early September. Once my semester started, I felt like I had no time or energy to come up for air and think about anything that wasn’t my coursework or my thesis revisions. But a lot of things happened, both externally and internally, and every time I sat down to write a new post for January I lost my train of thought, so I thought I would go back and do a brief retrospective.

It took me a long time to adjust to Ava going to university. She was loving her classes, making new friends, getting fabulous grades and overall thriving in her first three months as a theatre student. I couldn’t believe how different our family seemed with one less person here. Ava’s absence made me keenly aware of the concept of negative space – noticing and appreciating what isn’t there and how it forms and shapes your experience as much as who and what is actually there.

I started to realize that without her, I felt lonely as the sole woman in a house with two males. I wrote about this, in my Creative Nonfiction grad class, but I was attempting to understand something as I was living it out, which is always a challenge. It’s better to let some time pass, so you can see the contours of the thing with more clarity. I’m slowly getting there, but the key takeaway here is that I learned to voice what I need from Jason and from William. I practiced saying, “This is not enough for me. I need more connection, more interaction, more depth of meaning in our relationships.”

Saying that was like flying for me. It was exhilarating. I felt untethered, free, unafraid to lean into the hard conversations in a way that was new and significant. I asked for and expected others to change for me, instead of me bending into awkward relational shapes for others as I’ve done for most of my life. Something about this process opened me up. It shook my systems, disrupting old patterns, making things strained for a time but ultimately helped me to change in a profound and lasting manner.

A favourite meme that I looked at while writing my thesis this summer says, “Some things break your heart but fix your vision.” That was my fall 2022. My heart cracked but then healed, and now I’m different. I also got hit by a truck (literally) in late November. I was at a dead stop at a light, when a tandem semi-trailer truck rolled back and hit me. Hard. My neck and back got all screwed up, not to mention my beautiful pristine Rav 4 which has never had a scratch on her until this collision.

Thankfully, I’m better now with some chiro, massage and physio appointments, and my vehicle will be fixed, but in the aftermath of the accident I realized something with a newfound clarity. You can do everything right, like sitting quietly in a turn lane waiting for the light to change, and still get hit. As hard as I try, I cannot see around every corner to plan for every possible scenario. I’m tired of wasting energy on that shit.

I turned 50 in December, and I feel like I’m just getting started. I’m determined to stop trying for hospital corners. It’s time to invite more emotional mess. To stop asking for permission outside of myself. I’m longing for openness, meaning, depth, fun, laughter, adventure. Being afraid and careful got me to this point. So did doing a lot of people’s inner work for them (or at least trying to). That’s over now. Some things break your heart but fix your vision, and I’m so grateful to be able to see with more clarity as I tackle a new decade of my life.

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 Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Relationships, Uncategorized

Happy 18th Baby Girl

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

Of parenting, Gretchen Rubin said, “The days are long but the years are short.” This was a guiding principle for me when my kids were young. Now that they are both teenagers, I find the days to be as short as the years. Once they were out of the preschool season, time seemed to speed up, like it was set to fast forward.

Now Ava is about to turn 18. I’ve been sad about it since September, when I found a new counsellor to work with as I attempt to prepare for her to move out of our house. It takes me a long time to manage change. When she leaves for university in late August, I want to be past my own complicated feelings and into excitement for her as she launches into her own life. I can glimpse this possibility, but I’m not there yet, so I’m glad I started a year in advance.

All I know for sure right now is that I will really, really miss her. We all will. On the weekends, I listen to her and William laughing from the basement as they play Jedi: Fallen Order on his Xbox. Each interaction with Ava feels more precious now. Sharper, more defined, and meaningful. Our house will have a gaping hole in it when she’s not here every day. I find it really hard to even imagine.

At the same time, because life is endlessly complicated and nuanced, I’m thrilled to see Ava inching into her own independence. It’s an exciting time, with university acceptances and academic excellence scholarships and a new driver’s license and a sneaking sense of pride that maybe we haven’t done too badly after all in raising her. My best friend’s mom always said that the goal of parenting is to take a dependent baby and turn them into an independent adult. By that measure, I’m incredibly proud of Ava on this milestone 18th birthday.

She’s fun, warm, smart, responsible, goofy and empathetic. Our lives are so much better because she’s in them. I try to remind myself that she’s not going into outer space, only to university, but it’s still a massive sea change for our family. And I know that many other families have done this and survived it, but thinking about your child moving out one day in the future and walking through it are two different things. But we are right on the edge of this change, peering out at it, and I feel so many things at once.

You are so loved, baby girl. Watch out, world. Ava’s finishing up grade twelve, in this never-ending groundhog day pandemic, and then she’s jumping into her adult life with intense enthusiasm and spirit. It will be a fascinating adventure, and we are here for you always. Happy 18th birthday!

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.