Reflections

Blank pages

This morning I stayed home to participate in The Hatch, a monthly gathering of over 200 people who are connected through their interest in journalling. Many people, like the founder, Suleika Jaouad struggle with chronic illness; others have joined (as I did) shortly after its start during the Covid shutdown.

Today I chose to write about something in my life that has sat unused for too long. The prompt was to write about how I could repurpose it — where it has been, what it means to me and what it could become.

Many objects in my home sit unused for far too long, but today I am thinking about a large, blank sketchpad and a case of drawing pencils. Each pencil is a shade of black or grey, of varying thickness and darkness. The Sketchpad and pencils have sat in my den of every house I’ve owned over the past 20 years.

Around twenty years ago my youngest child bought them for me as either a birthday or Christmas present. She listens when people speak and had heard me talk about winning an art contest as a child and how I once enjoyed drawing and painting. She was hoping this gift would inspire me to work less and spend more time enjoying something create–something that isn’t music, since music is also my work.

The sketchpad and pencils sat unused for many years until when in 2022 when I started therapy in an attempt to pick up the broken pieces that was my life. My counsellor asked me to find a large piece of blank paper for our first session. I was asked to draw and label a diagram in order to explore my core values.

I return to this diagram often to review some of the truths that I discovered, and frequently rediscover.

return — review — record — rediscover

The sketchpad itself reminds me of my daughter’s love for her mother; of her abundant compassion, empathy and understanding; her patience and occasional lack of patience as she reminds me that there is more to life than working and people-pleasing.

The sketchpad and pencils could become a way for me to unwind. They could become a way to record what is on my mind, or things that I observe. They could become a way of journalling with no words, or few words. The sketchpad could become less blank. It could become a collection of sketches or artwork that I might find meaningful; a diary of my thoughts.

Whatever it becomes, it will no longer be a lonely collection of blank pages.

Stand-off

Early Monday morning I sat in my living room watching the sun rise, and was witness to a scene straight out of National Geographic! The doe and the coyote (so large I at first thought it must be a wolf) were engaged in some sort of stand-off.

Even though there is a strict rule in our “village” that cats must stay inside and dogs need to be always on a leash, I know that sometimes people let their dogs out briefly to water the lilies, without a leash. At first I was concerned about my favourite dogs in the neighbourhood. The deer and coyote chased each other up and down the street, then disappeared for a while. Maybe the coyote was looking for rodents.

About a half hour later, they returned, keeping their distance from each other. Soon too many humans were out on their morning walks and the coyote disappeared. Shortly after that I ran outside, no longer afraid, to chase the mother deer and her young twins away from my garden buffet. That’s when I noticed one of the twins limping badly, not able to put any weight on her front leg. It appeared to be broken in two places, most likely the result of being hit by a vehicle.

That’s when it hit me that the doe was trying to distract the coyote from the injured youth, and not that they were playing. Of course a healthy deer is not afraid of a coyote, but an injured deer would be in grave danger.

Since moving in to my new home last March I have gone through a range of emotions when it comes to the deer. They are magnificent creatures….but hours of hard work in the garden can be ruined in a few minutes by the hungry animals. I no longer allow them to sleep in my backyard, whereas in July when my grandsons were visiting from Germany we spent lots of time watching quietly as they grazed and rested in the yard. Monday I was saddened to watch the poor young deer struggle; I wasn’t happy to hear others callously comment “it’s the circle of life”.

This morning the street is quiet, but it’s early and pre-dawn. I am watching out my front window, waiting to see what excitement today might bring.

Boundaries vs Walls

Many epiphanies happen in the mornings, either while gardening or in the shower. Yesterday, while in the shower, I came to the realization that I have created a boundary-monster. My boundaries involving a relationship are so solid and inflexible that they have become high walls. I started to search articles and videos that explained the difference between boundaries and walls.

One explanation compared our lives to a lovely rose garden. If we have no boundaries, then dogs or vandals can come in and destroy. (In my real garden, it’s the deer that come in and destroy!)

Back to the rose garden–if we put up high, solid walls, the sun cannot reach the roses, and people can’t enjoy the beauty of the garden, since they are not allowed in. (This is where I am in that relationship right now.)

With healthy boundaries–appropriate fences and gates–others can enjoy the garden, the sun can shine in and the garden (i.e. our life and relationships) can thrive.

This past spring I moved to an adult community of about 390 homes. Everyone who lives here must be at least 45 years old. It’s a lovely, quiet community with rules; three pages in fact, and more each month. My sister and her husband had moved in here 3 years ago, so my decision to buy this house was a tough one. My sister does not normally understand boundaries, therefore I had to make mine very clear to her (fortunately my brother-in-law understands me very well!) without building a wall. It was difficult at first, and she struggled with the idea that she was not allowed to tell me what to do with my house, yard or life. Things are better now! We look after each other’s homes and yards when necessary. We help each other with work around the house, and with caring for mom. The sunflower in the photo above which is reaching toward the sky was growing in my sister’s garden. She has a bird netting around her garden of tomatoes, beans and sunflowers to keep the deer out, since the rules state that no permanent fencing is allowed. The deer roam and feast freely.

In two other areas of my life I have not yet established a proper fence or netting. In my relationships, especially with the friend mentioned in my previous post, I have built such a thick, high wall that I have probably scared him off. There is currently no door in that wall. I don’t know when I’ll be ready to crack it open a little bit.

In the other area of my life–work–I have once again said “yes” to too many requests, and am regretting some of the commitments I have made. My desire (need?) to help has got in the way of my better judgement. I really have chosen to retire, but without the ability to say “no” to either exciting new projects or requests to save the music program at a church, I am now in a very difficult situation that is causing anguish in my daily life. That is the discussion going in my head throughout the day and half the night. Why did I take this on? How can I get out of it? How can I set boundaries now that I’m in the middle of it? The rose garden of my life is getting trampled.

The sunflower really has nothing to do with this constant balancing act that goes on in my head every day, but I am certain it would not have reached that height without the netting to keep the deer out of her garden.

Loneliness

Yesterday I came to the realization that I have no one I can talk to who can—or will—listen. Dad is gone. Mom can no longer remember, understand or follow a conversation. My siblings tend to judge, or tell me how I should live my life.

My children all have huge problems that they are dealing with, and it’s important that I am available to listen to them….not the other way around.

The man who wants to be more than a friend is totally incapable of stopping long enough to hear me, let alone really listen without judgement. He has many, many stories of his own that he needs to share. His own relationships with family and friends are all based on his need to step in and help. I don’t think he is prepared to be with someone who needs independence and desires freedom.

Lately I have been talking to my plants as I work in the garden, and even having conversations with the earthworms, apologizing to each one as I dig it out of the sod and re-home in the freshly churned soil.

Loneliness is now the result of putting up walls in order to hang on to my independence and freedom. It is the choice that I have made and have been working on for a long time, yet quiet nights lit up by the Harvest Moon emphasize the pain of loneliness. Moonlit nights are among the moments that are best when shared with a trusted companion.

Space

There are mornings where I can’t sleep in past 5:00 a.m. In fact, most mornings these days I am on my 2nd cup of coffee before the sun rises.

The photo above was taken on a particularly smoky morning last week. The wildfires burning in the north sent the smoke our way and helped create a magical golden sunrise.

When my mom had to move into a care home over a year ago and we sold her house, the important furnishings and other items were divided amongst three siblings and 8 grandchildren. There were two things I wanted to keep — an old grandfather’s clock and this rocking chair. I have no idea why I needed them, but they were important to me.

The mechanism in the died decades ago and was replaced by a battery that keeps time like a metronome. Tick tick tick tick…until the battery runs down. The rocking chair reminds me of my parents’ home. It was one of those pieces of furniture that was always in a corner of the room, seldom used. When guests came over, the last person to be seated would sit there. If enough other chairs were available then the rocking chair sat empty.

It continues to be vacant most of the time. I seldom have guests, and my living room is really a piano room with three chairs—rocking chair, lazy boy and antique armchair.

Much like my personal life, I have not created a space that allows “visitors”. It’s not that I don’t like people; I do like people and enjoy their company when I’m ready for it. But I want my own space to think my own thoughts and do my own thing.

For now I am making sure there is no space in my life or in my house for others to come in and take over again.

Waiting

We are both waiting. Gia is waiting for her owner, true love, master, food-giver, ball-thrower and only person in her world, to return and sit beside her. I’m waiting for my son to join me for pizza and a drink. (Yes, he is the same person for whom Gia is waiting, although he is not all of those things to me!)

How often are we just waiting for that perfect person, or that perfect time? Looking at my own life, I am still waiting for the perfect time to start doing the things I have been putting off. Things like drawing in my sketch book and using the beautiful pencils that were a treasured birthday about 17 years ago.

I remember the delicate dinnerware set that my father bought for my mother when I was a teen. These were so fragile that only mom could wash them, and only special guests could use them. They were kept in the large china cabinet along with heirlooms and other beautiful items that were for show….waiting for the day that was special enough to use them.

Over the years, as mom wore down, they were used less and less frequently, until one day she decided that family was special enough to be privileged to use these dishes. She stopped waiting for that perfect day and perfect guest.

Now it is my turn to stop waiting. Today might be the day I get my sketch book out even though I haven’t got my whole life figured out and organized. Or maybe I will drink tea from the heirloom teacups instead of using the dollar store mug. Maybe I should stop waiting for that perfect day. Maybe that day is today.

Home again

A week ago I was on my way home once again. I had decided to spend a week with my granddaughters in Saskatchewan, just a 2-day drive from here. When you do the math, 8 days away with 2 days driving each way, means there are only 4 full days to visit. And the 4th day was the day that they had planned to get away for one last weekend before pre-school started again.

It was a lovely 3 1/2 day visit, and well worth the drive. Sometimes I wonder if the drive is what I am looking forward to the most, or is it the visit….

My visit freed up my daughter to spend more time getting fully involved in the re-creation of Lion King. She now had a new role (new even to the original writers) of Iris, the wife of Timon. Timon and Iris had such a beautiful wedding, over and over again just to get it right.

The best part was watching Aletheia, who turns 4 tomorrow, imitate Mickey Mouse in the 1935 performance of the band concert. She sings the lead melodies or da-da-das the correct rhythm when it’s more important than the melody, and conducts with her Robin Hood arrow. (The arrow has a soft cloth ball instead of a sharp spear, which is much safer than a conductors baton at this point.) As long as she has an audience the show continues.

My biggest role in the 3 1/2 days of my visit, besides weeding the garden, was to watch, hug, kiss and cuddle the newborn. Cleo is one of the calmest babies I have ever held. She is even calm when she is not held, but that was a long way for me to travel just to watch a child be content. I understand that a grandmother’s job is to spoil a child just a little.

I reflected a lot on the differences between the two girls, as well as the similarities and differences between my babies. Not only do they have different temperaments from birth, and even before birth, but they were raised in different environments. Each child is so unique.

A week ago, on Sunday morning, I left Calgary very early to drive home. After the previous day of driving through prairie fields and straight roads the sight of the majestic Rocky Mountains was too much of a distraction. I stopped to eat breakfast, and to take in the beauty of the mountains. I grew up surrounded by the Purcell and Selkirk mountain ranges and even though they aren’t anything like the Rockies I feel at home in the mountains.

Home

I was sad to be leaving after such a short visit. On my last two days we drove to see the sights and spent time talking, exploring and planning.

Flight delays on the way home to B.C. resulted in an unexpected overnight stay in Toronto, giving me more time to think before returning home.

Time spent with my youngest daughter in Nova Scotia is always such a blessing. She has a unique perspective on life and a remarkable ability to understand and explain what I am feeling. And she doesn’t seem to be afraid to share her insights.

It’s good to be home now, but I miss what feels like my home on the east coast.

Peace

The house is quiet again. No more folding paper airplanes, building LEGO tractors, looking out for the deer, watching the quail families hunt for food. Well…I can still watch the wildlife in my backyard on my own but I admit that it is much more exciting to see the looks of amazement in my grandson’s eyes!

The chair on my deck is no longer occupied by anyone but me and I can return to enjoying some simple quiet moments. The chirping of birds and the distant rumble of traffic. Sipping my third cup of coffee.

But I do miss the chatter of excited little boys after a night of sound sleeping. Each morning they would call “grandma, grandma” while looking out every window trying to find me. With the heat wave so severe for the past 2+ weeks I had to do the gardening and water the plants very early in the mornings.

My variegated Dogwood might just survive. We have two to three more days of intense heat, then it will hopefully be back to normal summer heat.

These blazing stars started blooming soon after my guests arrived, attracting honeybees and bumblebees—more opportunity for discovery.

Though I will miss having my grandsons here, I do admit that I was counting down the days until their flight home.

Twins

These two siblings were lounging in my backyard just after sunset a few days ago. I live in the middle of a small city of 160,000 people. Wildlife seems quite abundant, with deer visiting almost daily, coyotes patrolling the streets at night and reports of cougars lying in wait for deer at a nearby creek.

The dogwood, now surrounded by bird netting to keep it safe from deer, is still clinging to life. We are in the middle of a heat wave that is threatening to dry up every plant in my garden. The garden is my sanctuary.

Since taking this photo I have seen the fawns many times. Sometimes they are just walking through with their mother, sometimes resting and sometimes playing.