With the holidays just behind us I've been thinking a lot about family traditions, how many of ours have disappeared over the years. I've been missing things like family Sunday night dinner and church on Christmas eve. As time has passed and I've gotten decidedly more agnostic, a divorce, two remarriages (my parents', not mine) a cross country move, an international relocation and an eventual return to the city where I grew up, all compounded by family spread out across the continent have resulted in a firm wall of time having been erected between me and the family traditions of my youth. These days we don't even spend Christmas in the same city two years in a row, so Christmas traditions are hard to establish.
Lately I find myself searching for those few, slim connections to my youth. Aside from my family, there are only a few people who've known me since I was young. It takes a lot of effort to carry things and people with us through the years, and I've moved around so much that I have shed a lot of things along the way. So many people have come and gone, some for the best and some I miss dearly. The people who are still there are the ones I've loved enough to carry through the years, but who have also loved me enough to pick me up and carry me when necessary. I feel lucky to have them.
All this has gotten me thinking about the other things that have been important enough to heap into suitcases and bring with me through the years. There is a copy of the Velveteen Rabbit my Great Aunt gave me years ago, with gorgeous illustrations. There is an ice cream cone shaped whistle from Dairy Queen, from the night we went in after hours with a friend who worked there, and made our own sundaes. There are a lot of old pictures, and a few old letters. There is a tulip pressed between the pages of my University Year Book, that reminds me of my last day as a student and how wide open life felt that day. Perhaps the lightest thing, the one that has gone with me absolutely every place I've ever traveled, is music. I don't remember when I first realized that a great song could make my heart swell just like falling in love does, but for years now it has been my comfort, my warm blanket, my sunny summer day, my cruel lover, my compassionate friend.
When I was around fifteen my mom and her then boyfriend, now husband, took my brother and I on a trip to Toronto. We saw a lot of amazing things on that trip, and I decided that someday I was going to live there. The thing that stands out most from that week was a concert they took us to at the Molson Amphitheater. This is one of my all time favorite summer music venues. It is an outdoor stage, set in a bowl of seats, which you can pay top dollar to have, or you can pay less to sit in the grassy area above the seats. You can bring a blanket and a picnic and lie on the grass watching the stars while listening to one of your favorite bands. That week we saw Blue Rodeo, who are in my opinion one of the quintessential Canadian bands of the last 25 years. I was in love. I can remember sitting in our family room playing "Dark Angel" on repeat on the stereo. Not their best song, but what can I say, I was something of a melancholy/romantic teenager. At least I grew out of it... what's Greg Keelor's excuse? Just kidding Greg, I love you.
I had some guy friends who were in a band - one of whom I was totally head over heals for - and we used to go watch them play at a local coffee house (hey, it was the 90s, that's what we did). Listening to them play "Side of the Road" is still one of my favorite memories from that time.
Two years later we moved to a small Ontario town just 45 minutes from Toronto (the closest I ever came to living there, which is ok). My parents built a beautiful house in the middle of the forest at the end of a dirt road. I can remember pulling up to the house after night out with friends, on many occasions, the house glowing and warm, and Blue Rodeo playing on the stereo so loudly I could hear it from the driveway. It was the sound track of our lives back then. I knew my family was inside waiting for me.
Fast forward nearly two decades, a million miles, and more changes than I could possibly put down on paper - and one of the few bands my husband and I both love equally is Blue Rodeo. Our first dance at our wedding was "Rebel" (it's more romantic than it sounds). Last night we went to see them for the third time (together). I realized while we were sitting there, holding hands like two kids in puppy love, that they are the one big tradition I have carried with me all these years. Someday my kids will pull up to the house, late at night, hear Blue Rodeo blaring on the stereo, and know that their parents are inside dancing.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Saturday, January 5, 2013
You are not required to complete this task...
“You are not required to complete this task, but you are not free to withdraw from it.” – The Talmud
When I was a teenager I loved filling notebooks with quotes I came across. I don’t quite remember what qualified a quote to make it into one of my compilations, but it likely just had to strike me as interesting or thoughtful in some way. Many of these little quips are long forgotten – I still have most of the notebooks (Because I have some minor hording tendencies, according to hubs. I contend that one wooden trunk full of nostalgia does not a hoarder make – but that’s another post for another time), but this one has stuck in my head over the years. At the time when I jotted it down, I attributed its source to the Talmud. I have never read the Talmud, so I’m not sure how it crossed my path, but a quick search of the internet confirms that at the very least the words are associated with Judaism. I remember reading this quote to my mother, who asked “What does it mean?” and at the time I assumed that was because she didn’t get it. Looking back she likely just wanted to know what I thought it meant.
I don’t know the context of the quote in the larger body in which is resides (if you do, I’d love to hear about it). To me, this quote has always been the most basic and beautiful description of everything we go through in this life. On a small scale it is about all those tasks that we deal with on a daily basis – you don’t have to write that report, finish that project or improve that nagging thing in your life, but chances are that not taking care of those things means they will just hang around and haunt you. On a larger scale it speaks to me about living life – you can withdraw from your life in a variety of ways: drugs, alcohol, depression, isolating yourself, or even killing yourself – and in these ways you can refuse to complete the task of living your life, and yet you cannot avoid the fact that certain tasks have been laid out before you and they will never go away until you choose to tackle them.
Seven years ago my friend Peter took his own life. Just typing the words is more difficult than I can put into words. He was kind, smart, quiet in his words, and yet forceful and present in his music. He was also sad, and struggled with the tasks laid out before him. We all knew he was going through an incredibly tough time. By the time that January rolled around our group had begun to drift. I hadn’t seen him in a while. I can still remember that phone call… the choked sound of your voice when you told me. I can remember being surprised by an old friend’s angry shouting, cursing him – but of course he was angry. Now it seems like the most rational response.
It’s been seven years – so when I came home last night and saw your post of Facebook, that you were going to our old place to raise a glass, I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised that it had slipped my mind. We’ve gone together every year, until yesterday. I felt guilty… not because I’ve moved on, Peter and I were never as good of friends, but because I’d left you to go by yourself.
So how is it that I can believe that Peter did not withdraw from the task at hand? Well, for one thing, his departure didn’t make his painful situation disappear – it sent his pain like shrapnel to wound his friends and family. We still carry the pieces that tore into us - and we are assigned our own part in his tasks to work through. I also don’t believe that death is the end. I do believe we are reincarnated and that we carry our unfinished business with us, and are given the opportunity to continue working on unraveling the knots that belong to us. I hope with all my heart that this time around you are happier, and feel more equipped to take on the task that is living. But more than that I hope my friends who did not attempt to withdraw are able to heal the holes you left behind.
When I was a teenager I loved filling notebooks with quotes I came across. I don’t quite remember what qualified a quote to make it into one of my compilations, but it likely just had to strike me as interesting or thoughtful in some way. Many of these little quips are long forgotten – I still have most of the notebooks (Because I have some minor hording tendencies, according to hubs. I contend that one wooden trunk full of nostalgia does not a hoarder make – but that’s another post for another time), but this one has stuck in my head over the years. At the time when I jotted it down, I attributed its source to the Talmud. I have never read the Talmud, so I’m not sure how it crossed my path, but a quick search of the internet confirms that at the very least the words are associated with Judaism. I remember reading this quote to my mother, who asked “What does it mean?” and at the time I assumed that was because she didn’t get it. Looking back she likely just wanted to know what I thought it meant.
I don’t know the context of the quote in the larger body in which is resides (if you do, I’d love to hear about it). To me, this quote has always been the most basic and beautiful description of everything we go through in this life. On a small scale it is about all those tasks that we deal with on a daily basis – you don’t have to write that report, finish that project or improve that nagging thing in your life, but chances are that not taking care of those things means they will just hang around and haunt you. On a larger scale it speaks to me about living life – you can withdraw from your life in a variety of ways: drugs, alcohol, depression, isolating yourself, or even killing yourself – and in these ways you can refuse to complete the task of living your life, and yet you cannot avoid the fact that certain tasks have been laid out before you and they will never go away until you choose to tackle them.
Seven years ago my friend Peter took his own life. Just typing the words is more difficult than I can put into words. He was kind, smart, quiet in his words, and yet forceful and present in his music. He was also sad, and struggled with the tasks laid out before him. We all knew he was going through an incredibly tough time. By the time that January rolled around our group had begun to drift. I hadn’t seen him in a while. I can still remember that phone call… the choked sound of your voice when you told me. I can remember being surprised by an old friend’s angry shouting, cursing him – but of course he was angry. Now it seems like the most rational response.
It’s been seven years – so when I came home last night and saw your post of Facebook, that you were going to our old place to raise a glass, I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised that it had slipped my mind. We’ve gone together every year, until yesterday. I felt guilty… not because I’ve moved on, Peter and I were never as good of friends, but because I’d left you to go by yourself.
So how is it that I can believe that Peter did not withdraw from the task at hand? Well, for one thing, his departure didn’t make his painful situation disappear – it sent his pain like shrapnel to wound his friends and family. We still carry the pieces that tore into us - and we are assigned our own part in his tasks to work through. I also don’t believe that death is the end. I do believe we are reincarnated and that we carry our unfinished business with us, and are given the opportunity to continue working on unraveling the knots that belong to us. I hope with all my heart that this time around you are happier, and feel more equipped to take on the task that is living. But more than that I hope my friends who did not attempt to withdraw are able to heal the holes you left behind.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Running, writting and other "Resolutions"
I’ve mentioned in previous posts that I do not believe in New Year’s resolutions. I believe that people can only truly make significant change when they are ready. That said, maybe for some leaving one year behind and starting “fresh” in a new year is the push they need to make those changes. Despite my resistance to resolutions I can’t help but find myself thinking about things I’d like to do differently at this time of year. It used to be that September provided this definition in my life – the changing of the calendar year was so much less significant than the changing of the school year. Maybe I just don’t want to call them resolutions, because we all know how easily we all discard our resolutions.
I managed to shift my thinking regarding weight a few years ago when I started this blog – I really did begin to believe that healthy eating was about healthy living, and not about being skinny. When I think back, that all started just after the New Year, two years ago. The biggest change of all has slowly crept in on me over the last few months. For the first time ever I can say (and mean it) that I really love my body. This is where I live – no matter where I go there is no escaping that. It is of no benefit to me to walk around hating my home.
These days hubs and I are still very conscientious about the contents of the food we consume. With the exception of condiments, we do not buy prepackaged foods. My mission from two years ago was a total success. It reframed our thinking about how we spend our food dollars and what we consume. Even though we don’t make our own mayonnaise from scratch, we do still take the time to read the ingredients and ensure we are buying one with a short list, and recognizable ingredients. So maybe I did make a "resolution" and keep it - I just didn't call it that.
In my last post I wrote about my car accident on the way to the cabin earlier this week. I said I’d keep you posted as I took stock of my life and set some new goals accordingly. So I asked myself the most obvious question I could think of – If you had died in that accident, what would you most regret never having done? It may seem a bit morbid, but it immediately popped a thought into my head. Well, two, but I’m not ready to talk about one of them just yet. The truth is that none of my regrets would have anything to do with eating that extra piece of chocolate, or enjoying those amazing meals with my family in Raleigh over Christmas. They don’t have to do with exercising more or weighing less. I didn’t even think for a second about those extra 10 minutes I spend in bed every morning instead of doing my hair. They had nothing to do with having more money or nicer things. My job, which I do not like very much at all, didn’t even flicker across my mind. I know none of this is revelatory – we are constantly seeing trite quotes about how in the end none of these things will matter - and yet I do spend a tremendous amount of time and energy thinking about these things every day. The truth is I probably still will, and in some cases I should. I want to be healthier and feel happier in my job, I guess I just need to recognize that there are things that I hold dearer in my heart.
Ok, so I’m sure you’d like to hear about the thing I DID think of – I’d regret never having attempted to publish a novel. I wrote one about 10 years ago, which I love and am very proud of; but it will never see the light of day, because that story belongs to me and I do not feel the need to share it. But I would truly regret never having tried to write something and put it out into the world.
So why don’t I write anymore? Okay, well to be fair I do – I scribble things down all the time- bits of blog posts that may or may not ever see the light of day, pieces of stories that come to me out of thin air, character descriptions that live in the shadows of my thoughts. Then there are the million and one things that never even make it onto paper because I was at work, or on the bus , or out for dinner, or just simply didn’t have any means to record them. Aha! There’s the key – the means to record them, and moreover, not lose them! Almost every note book, phone book, sketch book, electronic device, etc. I’ve ever owned has some piece of this puzzle scribbled in the margins.
It’s so obvious – I need somewhere I can store these thoughts at a moment’s notice, where they can all be found in one place and reassembled easily – yeesh, I need a laptop (or maybe a netbook for portability?). Ok, so my goal for January is to obtain something small that I can type on (keyboard, not screen) – those are really my only requirements.
Oh, and as to my New Year’s resolution for 2013 – I’m going to take up running. I’ll let you know how that goes ;)
I managed to shift my thinking regarding weight a few years ago when I started this blog – I really did begin to believe that healthy eating was about healthy living, and not about being skinny. When I think back, that all started just after the New Year, two years ago. The biggest change of all has slowly crept in on me over the last few months. For the first time ever I can say (and mean it) that I really love my body. This is where I live – no matter where I go there is no escaping that. It is of no benefit to me to walk around hating my home.
These days hubs and I are still very conscientious about the contents of the food we consume. With the exception of condiments, we do not buy prepackaged foods. My mission from two years ago was a total success. It reframed our thinking about how we spend our food dollars and what we consume. Even though we don’t make our own mayonnaise from scratch, we do still take the time to read the ingredients and ensure we are buying one with a short list, and recognizable ingredients. So maybe I did make a "resolution" and keep it - I just didn't call it that.
In my last post I wrote about my car accident on the way to the cabin earlier this week. I said I’d keep you posted as I took stock of my life and set some new goals accordingly. So I asked myself the most obvious question I could think of – If you had died in that accident, what would you most regret never having done? It may seem a bit morbid, but it immediately popped a thought into my head. Well, two, but I’m not ready to talk about one of them just yet. The truth is that none of my regrets would have anything to do with eating that extra piece of chocolate, or enjoying those amazing meals with my family in Raleigh over Christmas. They don’t have to do with exercising more or weighing less. I didn’t even think for a second about those extra 10 minutes I spend in bed every morning instead of doing my hair. They had nothing to do with having more money or nicer things. My job, which I do not like very much at all, didn’t even flicker across my mind. I know none of this is revelatory – we are constantly seeing trite quotes about how in the end none of these things will matter - and yet I do spend a tremendous amount of time and energy thinking about these things every day. The truth is I probably still will, and in some cases I should. I want to be healthier and feel happier in my job, I guess I just need to recognize that there are things that I hold dearer in my heart.
Ok, so I’m sure you’d like to hear about the thing I DID think of – I’d regret never having attempted to publish a novel. I wrote one about 10 years ago, which I love and am very proud of; but it will never see the light of day, because that story belongs to me and I do not feel the need to share it. But I would truly regret never having tried to write something and put it out into the world.
So why don’t I write anymore? Okay, well to be fair I do – I scribble things down all the time- bits of blog posts that may or may not ever see the light of day, pieces of stories that come to me out of thin air, character descriptions that live in the shadows of my thoughts. Then there are the million and one things that never even make it onto paper because I was at work, or on the bus , or out for dinner, or just simply didn’t have any means to record them. Aha! There’s the key – the means to record them, and moreover, not lose them! Almost every note book, phone book, sketch book, electronic device, etc. I’ve ever owned has some piece of this puzzle scribbled in the margins.
It’s so obvious – I need somewhere I can store these thoughts at a moment’s notice, where they can all be found in one place and reassembled easily – yeesh, I need a laptop (or maybe a netbook for portability?). Ok, so my goal for January is to obtain something small that I can type on (keyboard, not screen) – those are really my only requirements.
Oh, and as to my New Year’s resolution for 2013 – I’m going to take up running. I’ll let you know how that goes ;)
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
A Deep Fried, Southern Christmas, and a Very Happy New Year!
I hope you all had as good an end to 2012/beginning to 2013 as I have had. We spent Christmas in Raleigh, NC with my mom, step-dad, 2 brothers and my grandmother. I feel like I've done nothing but eat for a week and a half. My family has dubbed Christmas in Raleigh "Pig-fest"... for weeks beforehand my husband, brother and dad no.2 exchange emails planing what they will cook and when they will cook these things. This year there was talk of roasting a whole pig... this year it was only talk, but I anticipate that by the next time we get down there they will have worked out the logistics. Instead all we managed were lobster tails, prime rib, home maid onion rings, turkey dinner, honey baked ham, scalloped potatoes... and those are just the highlights. I come by my love of food very honestly.
I love my family, I love spending time with them... unlike some people I don't dread spending the holidays with my parents & siblings. I actually look forward to it, for months. While the boys are busy planing all the food, I am usually hunting down Christmas gifts and making lists of things that can be purchased on the cheep in the States. Don't get me wrong, it's not without it's moments - by the end of the week I'm usually feeling overfed and in desperate need of alone time, but all in all I love Christmas in Raleigh.
So by the time we left on the 29th to head back to the frozen arctic (aka: the Canadian Prairies) I was feeling tired, spoiled, stuffed and ready to head home. My parents should feel very proud of themselves - they've managed to raise kids who like being with them, but feel no desire to live in their basement.
Hubs has two full weeks off over Christmas so he planned a few days skiing in Montana with a buddy, and left just a few hours after we got off the plane to drive out there. I, unfortunately do not get the same kind of holiday time he does and have to be back at work tomorrow. So I planned a weekend with some friends at our family cabin. I woke up Sunday and was eager to get on the road. My plan was to pick up the dog from my mother-in-law's place and be out there with enough time to have a few precious solitary hours. You know what they say about the best laid plans... By the time I did everything I needed to do and actually got out of the city it was almost two hours later than I'd planned. The roads were a bit snow covered but seemed okay. I was about 45 minutes away from the cabin when I hit a patch of ice and the car started to slide across the highway, I did my best to bring the car back but it just slid in the opposite direction. I didn't have time to feel afraid as the car slid off the road and into the ditch. All I had time to think about was not hitting a tree. The car slowed to a stop with the front and back ends wedged between the slopes on either side of the ditch. I took a deep breath, did a mental check that I was uninjured and then turned to check on the dog. Luckily he was in his kennel and was also fine. He was looking at me like "What the heck was that???". I got out of the car to get my bearings... just as a truck drove by. Yup, must have seen me go off the road, and just drove on by. To top it off I was in the 100 km stretch of the highway where I got absolutely no cell reception.
I got out of the car to check out the situation. As luck would have it I seemed to have hit the ditch right at the end of someone's driveway. I put the dog on his leash and walked to the farm house. I was greeted by the kindest family, who offered me coffee and invited me to join their game of Yahtzee while their daughter fetched her dad from the pasture. In all I was there about an hour, chatting with their little grandsons about their school and helping them count their dice scores. Eventually we pulled my car out of the ditch and they had me on my way. The last 40 minutes of the drive I wavered between feeling totally shaken up, and feeling overwhelmingly grateful. When my friends arrived about and hour and a half later I couldn't have been happier to see them.
Sometimes we need to be reminded to take some time and reflect on our lives. As the seasons change, and in particular at New Year's we are reminded that our lives are advancing and that it might be time to take stock of where we are. Sometimes it takes something less natural, like careening off the road and miraculously landing in a snow bank totally unharmed, just before being taken in by and cared for by total strangers. Needless to say I've been reminded, duly, in the last few days to stop and look around my life. I'm not really sure what that means just yet... but I'll keep you posted. Right now I'm just waiting for hubby to get home on Friday so I can give him the biggest hug ever.
I love my family, I love spending time with them... unlike some people I don't dread spending the holidays with my parents & siblings. I actually look forward to it, for months. While the boys are busy planing all the food, I am usually hunting down Christmas gifts and making lists of things that can be purchased on the cheep in the States. Don't get me wrong, it's not without it's moments - by the end of the week I'm usually feeling overfed and in desperate need of alone time, but all in all I love Christmas in Raleigh.
So by the time we left on the 29th to head back to the frozen arctic (aka: the Canadian Prairies) I was feeling tired, spoiled, stuffed and ready to head home. My parents should feel very proud of themselves - they've managed to raise kids who like being with them, but feel no desire to live in their basement.
Hubs has two full weeks off over Christmas so he planned a few days skiing in Montana with a buddy, and left just a few hours after we got off the plane to drive out there. I, unfortunately do not get the same kind of holiday time he does and have to be back at work tomorrow. So I planned a weekend with some friends at our family cabin. I woke up Sunday and was eager to get on the road. My plan was to pick up the dog from my mother-in-law's place and be out there with enough time to have a few precious solitary hours. You know what they say about the best laid plans... By the time I did everything I needed to do and actually got out of the city it was almost two hours later than I'd planned. The roads were a bit snow covered but seemed okay. I was about 45 minutes away from the cabin when I hit a patch of ice and the car started to slide across the highway, I did my best to bring the car back but it just slid in the opposite direction. I didn't have time to feel afraid as the car slid off the road and into the ditch. All I had time to think about was not hitting a tree. The car slowed to a stop with the front and back ends wedged between the slopes on either side of the ditch. I took a deep breath, did a mental check that I was uninjured and then turned to check on the dog. Luckily he was in his kennel and was also fine. He was looking at me like "What the heck was that???". I got out of the car to get my bearings... just as a truck drove by. Yup, must have seen me go off the road, and just drove on by. To top it off I was in the 100 km stretch of the highway where I got absolutely no cell reception.
I got out of the car to check out the situation. As luck would have it I seemed to have hit the ditch right at the end of someone's driveway. I put the dog on his leash and walked to the farm house. I was greeted by the kindest family, who offered me coffee and invited me to join their game of Yahtzee while their daughter fetched her dad from the pasture. In all I was there about an hour, chatting with their little grandsons about their school and helping them count their dice scores. Eventually we pulled my car out of the ditch and they had me on my way. The last 40 minutes of the drive I wavered between feeling totally shaken up, and feeling overwhelmingly grateful. When my friends arrived about and hour and a half later I couldn't have been happier to see them.
Sometimes we need to be reminded to take some time and reflect on our lives. As the seasons change, and in particular at New Year's we are reminded that our lives are advancing and that it might be time to take stock of where we are. Sometimes it takes something less natural, like careening off the road and miraculously landing in a snow bank totally unharmed, just before being taken in by and cared for by total strangers. Needless to say I've been reminded, duly, in the last few days to stop and look around my life. I'm not really sure what that means just yet... but I'll keep you posted. Right now I'm just waiting for hubby to get home on Friday so I can give him the biggest hug ever.
Friday, December 14, 2012
May they someday, somehow find some peace
I still remember where I was the moment I found out about the shootings at a highschool in Columbine. I was in my first year of University, and I was sitting in the cafeteria when someone asked with disbelief "Did you guys here what happened today?" We were shocked - how does a highschool student get a hold of a gun, bring it to school and walk around the school shooting people? How on any sane planet does this happen? All I could think about was my younger brother, then a grade ten student. I thought about how it would feel to find out that this had happened at his school. The pain I can muster up just imagining this scenario as part of my reality nearly suffocates me. I literally have trouble breathing when I think about this happening to my family.
Flash forward 12? 13? years, and enough of these types of tragedies that I've lost count. I don't have kids, but my husband is a middle school teacher... I think about this happening at his school and that choking feeling starts to sneak back up on me. I can't even begin to fathom what it might feel like to actually live through something this horrendous.
What rational could possibly justify one person's right to bear arms over a child's right to feel safe attending school... I know, I know, the constitution says so, but something tells me that if the men who penned the American constitution knew where their words would someday lead their country they would be ashamed. Not of themselves, but of their future countrymen's inability to adapt to different times and circumstances, and to understand that they never intended for you or I to walk into a Target outlet and buy a handgun. They intended for the population to have the right and ability to defend itself against the government should the need arise. Our current situation is a perversion of their vision. It's time to smarten up and get with the times, and quit hiding behind a document that is over 200 years old.
Tonight my prayers go out to the victims, their families, the children and teachers who witnessed this unimaginable tragedy. May they someday, somehow find some peace.
Flash forward 12? 13? years, and enough of these types of tragedies that I've lost count. I don't have kids, but my husband is a middle school teacher... I think about this happening at his school and that choking feeling starts to sneak back up on me. I can't even begin to fathom what it might feel like to actually live through something this horrendous.
What rational could possibly justify one person's right to bear arms over a child's right to feel safe attending school... I know, I know, the constitution says so, but something tells me that if the men who penned the American constitution knew where their words would someday lead their country they would be ashamed. Not of themselves, but of their future countrymen's inability to adapt to different times and circumstances, and to understand that they never intended for you or I to walk into a Target outlet and buy a handgun. They intended for the population to have the right and ability to defend itself against the government should the need arise. Our current situation is a perversion of their vision. It's time to smarten up and get with the times, and quit hiding behind a document that is over 200 years old.
Tonight my prayers go out to the victims, their families, the children and teachers who witnessed this unimaginable tragedy. May they someday, somehow find some peace.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Hang in there, it will all be whorthwile down the road
I've been silent in the blogosphere for so long I assumed my little blog had probably disapeared into the abys of the world wide web, never to be seen again, but here it is just waiting for my return. I'm a very all or nothing kind of girl. So if I can't commit to doing something regularly I'm very prone to giving up projects all together. Lately I've had these twinges of wanting to write... not necessarily about food and body issues, which is what this blog was initially about, just about my thoughts on things. Well what the hell... I'm back and am going to write whatever and whenever I feel like it. There will probably still be a lot about food and body issues because I think about both those things A LOT. But there will also be other things, personal things. In my last blog post I talked about an old acquaintance from University and her blog... she's actually become a big inspiration to me. Her blog is so open and honest; so I've decided to set that as my one and only bar for this new version of my blog: tell the truth. So here it goes...
The thing that inspired me to come back here was a list I stumbled across on pinterest, entitled "10 Books Every Girl Should Read in her 20s". Well, I'm not in my 20s anymore, but I do love books and I wondered if I'd read any of them. The one that really struck me was What I Know Now: Letters to My Younger Self by Ellyn Spragins. It got me thinking about what I would want to tell that girl if I could go back... to be really useful I'd probably have to go back to age 13 or 14 and talk to that girl, because if I had to pinpoint an age where I really started needing someone to tell me to smarten up, that would be it. If I could write that letter, it would probably go something like this:
Dear Shawn,
Wear that belly shirt now... you may as well while you can. But while we're on that topic, love your body. It will grow and change, it will get soft, it will crease and mark and scar. It will be many things and mean many things - but most of all it will be your home, learn to honour it no matter what it looks like.
Girls will be mean. Don't be. Also, don't take it personally. It really has nothing to do with you, but more importantly, you will get over it.
The divorce might seem like the end of the world now, but it is the best thing that ever happened to the 4 of you.
Stop wasting your time on that guy... and that one... and that one... and that one... he will NEVER love you. That voice in your head is actually right, you really are too smart, pretty, good, etc. Stop worrying... when you do find him it will be SO worth the wait. I promise.
Enjoy University - you will never again get to spend your time reading books and writting about them. It really is an amazing opportunity... stop wasting it procrastinating. Don't buckle down too hard though... there's a lot of fun to be had. Oh, and those nights you spent up all night writting a paper at the very last second? Still do that... those sunrises will be some of your most cherished experiences.
Keep in touch with people - you will miss them.
Stop waiting for "real" life to start - it started years ago.
I love you... more than you have the capacity to love yourself right now.
Shawn
Here's the thing - If I had a Back to the Future-esque time machine, and could actually deliver this letter to my younger self I absolutely would not. It's fun to look back and muse on the things I could have done better if I'd known better, but in the end if I hadn't gone through those experiences then I wouldn't be where I am now. So I guess the only thing I really would say to 13 year old me is this: hang in there, it will all be worthwhile down the road.
The thing that inspired me to come back here was a list I stumbled across on pinterest, entitled "10 Books Every Girl Should Read in her 20s". Well, I'm not in my 20s anymore, but I do love books and I wondered if I'd read any of them. The one that really struck me was What I Know Now: Letters to My Younger Self by Ellyn Spragins. It got me thinking about what I would want to tell that girl if I could go back... to be really useful I'd probably have to go back to age 13 or 14 and talk to that girl, because if I had to pinpoint an age where I really started needing someone to tell me to smarten up, that would be it. If I could write that letter, it would probably go something like this:
Dear Shawn,
Wear that belly shirt now... you may as well while you can. But while we're on that topic, love your body. It will grow and change, it will get soft, it will crease and mark and scar. It will be many things and mean many things - but most of all it will be your home, learn to honour it no matter what it looks like.
Girls will be mean. Don't be. Also, don't take it personally. It really has nothing to do with you, but more importantly, you will get over it.
The divorce might seem like the end of the world now, but it is the best thing that ever happened to the 4 of you.
Stop wasting your time on that guy... and that one... and that one... and that one... he will NEVER love you. That voice in your head is actually right, you really are too smart, pretty, good, etc. Stop worrying... when you do find him it will be SO worth the wait. I promise.
Enjoy University - you will never again get to spend your time reading books and writting about them. It really is an amazing opportunity... stop wasting it procrastinating. Don't buckle down too hard though... there's a lot of fun to be had. Oh, and those nights you spent up all night writting a paper at the very last second? Still do that... those sunrises will be some of your most cherished experiences.
Keep in touch with people - you will miss them.
Stop waiting for "real" life to start - it started years ago.
I love you... more than you have the capacity to love yourself right now.
Shawn
Here's the thing - If I had a Back to the Future-esque time machine, and could actually deliver this letter to my younger self I absolutely would not. It's fun to look back and muse on the things I could have done better if I'd known better, but in the end if I hadn't gone through those experiences then I wouldn't be where I am now. So I guess the only thing I really would say to 13 year old me is this: hang in there, it will all be worthwhile down the road.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Our Hearts and our Bellies
Earlier today I stumbled across the blog of an old friend from University. Not someone I was ever really close too, but always really liked. It was a candid, and slightly heartbreaking look into her struggles with her weight. What really struck me was her admission that at the time when I knew her she was battling feelings of self loathing with respect to her weight. When I look back on that time I remember envying her slight frame, easy smile and popularity. Who knew that behind all the things I was busy envying we had more in common than I would have thought possible? Certainly not me.
It made me wonder a few things. When does all this start, this breaking down of our inner-selves, in favour of our outward shells? At what point do we start worrying more about our bellies and less about our hearts? When do we start thinking that a tiny ass is more important than a beautiful soul? Are there women out there who are happy with their bodies? Really truly happy, when no one else is looking? Whether they are 110 lbs, or 250, are they out there?
For me, I know I feel best about myself when I am taking good care of myself... but that never stopped me from looking at a photo of myself and thinking "holy, look at that belly!" I'm dangerously close to becoming one of those women who refuses to have her picture taken, because they are hazardous to my self esteem. Stupid, I know. And yet I look back at pictures of myself a few summers ago, traveling overseas, where I can distinctly remember feeling like the only girl in all of Thailand wearing a one piece bathing suit, and now I think I looked great! I think of my time in Japan, the skinniest I've been in the last 10 years. I still felt like the biggest girl in every room, and maybe I was... but how stupid is it for me to have been comparing myself to Japanese women? I would have needed a time machine to take me back to 1992 to have evened out the playing field. But instead of appreciating how great I looked, I just compared myself to the other women around me. In truth there is always going to be someone thinner and someone bigger than me. Here's the thing: How is that relevant to my self esteem in any way shape or form? It's not, and yet it's somehow become the only bar by which I know to measure myself.
And then there is the question posed by my friend, probably the most important question in all of this... how do we stop ourselves from passing all this on to the next generation of little girls? If we can't bring ourselves to love them women we see in the mirror, how on earth can we expect them to?
One thing seems clear, there's so much more to this than just the weight we carry on our frames.
It made me wonder a few things. When does all this start, this breaking down of our inner-selves, in favour of our outward shells? At what point do we start worrying more about our bellies and less about our hearts? When do we start thinking that a tiny ass is more important than a beautiful soul? Are there women out there who are happy with their bodies? Really truly happy, when no one else is looking? Whether they are 110 lbs, or 250, are they out there?
For me, I know I feel best about myself when I am taking good care of myself... but that never stopped me from looking at a photo of myself and thinking "holy, look at that belly!" I'm dangerously close to becoming one of those women who refuses to have her picture taken, because they are hazardous to my self esteem. Stupid, I know. And yet I look back at pictures of myself a few summers ago, traveling overseas, where I can distinctly remember feeling like the only girl in all of Thailand wearing a one piece bathing suit, and now I think I looked great! I think of my time in Japan, the skinniest I've been in the last 10 years. I still felt like the biggest girl in every room, and maybe I was... but how stupid is it for me to have been comparing myself to Japanese women? I would have needed a time machine to take me back to 1992 to have evened out the playing field. But instead of appreciating how great I looked, I just compared myself to the other women around me. In truth there is always going to be someone thinner and someone bigger than me. Here's the thing: How is that relevant to my self esteem in any way shape or form? It's not, and yet it's somehow become the only bar by which I know to measure myself.
And then there is the question posed by my friend, probably the most important question in all of this... how do we stop ourselves from passing all this on to the next generation of little girls? If we can't bring ourselves to love them women we see in the mirror, how on earth can we expect them to?
One thing seems clear, there's so much more to this than just the weight we carry on our frames.
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