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Time to Darn the Holes, and Smell the Roses

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Love people, use things, because the opposite never works. ~ the Minimalists [YouTube] I woke early with Husband, I get up at 6ish to have a coffee with him and yes, I make his lunch. I never did before now, not when I was a stay-at-home-mom, not when I made my own, but now I do. I am giving him a lunch like a kiss, as he navigates his day. We used to work together, for most of the last seven years, and we spent all those commuting hours together as well. This week I have turned a corner. I have achieved separation and the ownership over the tasks that used to fill my day. I have let go of my self-importance and my ego. There is a lot of space left where my self-importance lived. There exists energy and time . The other day I bought the most beautiful pullover sweater from VV. It was priced at $2.99, because there were a few small moth holes in it... So yesterday I darned the holes. I sat by the kitchen window and darned, then I shaved all the nubs off it with this hand-held t
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Minimalism Madness

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"Do whatever the hell it takes to make you feel real again." ~ Myke Hutchiings In early September I stumbled upon a blog and YouTube channel by an Australian woman titled  A Small Wardrobe . The videos are dry and quirky, she has a cat named Mr Jeffreys who stars in many of her videos, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching [binging] her minimalism evolution. Minimalism appealed to me because I felt I had no control over the changes that were coming in my life, but I could control my excess mugs and books and fabric. I had thinned my wardrobe in May with a heavy hand, so in September there was not a lot left to de-clutter - so I thought. I began using the Wardrobe Diary from the site above, and after 2 weeks of checking off what I wore each day, I could already see a pattern. When I forced myself to wear the neglected clothing, more often than not, I felt awkward or uncomfortable in them. The goal to having a capsule or minimalist wardrobe is to only have clothing in
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Buddy System In Place

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I'm not sure where I was, mentally when I wrote last. September was a culmination of so many things and emotions - which has blended onto October to a degree - but all I can do is breathe, walk, write and be very gentle with our couple-unit, as we navigate new employment - continue to unwind from the last one - and prepare to hibernate. In September I walked a lot in the forest near my house, sometimes alone but quite often with Adult Offspring or husband. As my anxiety increased, so did my lung capacity and stride. Last night, though, was a warning that ended well, but had the potential to end poorly. I decided to walk, around 6pm. Adult Offspring opted out, and husband was at a meeting with owner of last company, which was the reason for my need to walk. At the railroad tracks before the trail entrance, I saw a man. \He was standing by a shrub holding plastic bags in his hand, and I thought shit - here is one of those decisions I have to make as a woman. Do I walk, or do I tu
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An Instant

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Life changes hard and fast - especially where the goddess is concerned. Husband accepted an offer on Tuesday, gave notice on Wednesday and I was dismissed from the company in a whirlwind of retaliation. Good changes are in motion. Even when you expect dismissal, and are prepared physically with bags packed and desk clean of all elements of me, the personal rejection still bites. I was raised with old fashioned parents and one of the absolute worst things to happen to a person is to be fired. Now this is hogwash, I know, but there is a certain amount of shame that descended and I've  been walking it out, on the trails. In 24 hours I went from hurt, to sadness, to anger to shame - and the little bit of shame that is left is that I wasted so much of my precious life and time working there. But that too is fading. This has happened in a time where I am toe-dipping into minimalism, and setting aside things that I do not need and do not use, or wear. I think my job was not serv
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Ask with Gentle Intent

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"Look closely at the present you are constructing. It should look like the future you are dreaming." ~Alice Walker I wrote this in my journal a while back. I keep the first page blank, and that is where I write inspiring quotes - the bits that catch my eye on Instagram, or in books that I am reading. Creation needs inspiration. Another one I wrote down recently is : "Love your fucking life. Take pictures of everything.Tell people you love them. Talk to random strangers. Do things that you're scared to do. Fuck it, because so many of us die and no one remembers a thing we did. Take your life and make it the best story in the world. Don't waste that shit." ~Drew Drucifer Reiber I keep my journals for 6 months, then let them go. I trash them, let all the angst and ideas compress in the garbage truck. Before I toss them I look at the quotes and am always amazed at how the theme changes from month to month, with yearnings I don't always know I have
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Vikings Hand or Dupuytren's Contracture

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Husband suffers from a condition with his right hand called : Dupuytren's Contracture. This is also called 'Viking's Hand'. In his case, the baby finger of his right hand is bent permanently towards his palm. It has been like this for at least 5 years. As lovely as our Canadian health system is, I have learned that doctors are just people and some are good, some are great and some are crap. Our family physician we had when we first moved to Hamilton was crap. Sad but true. [Lost my cancer-confirming ultrasound for example] When husband went to him when his finger began to contract, Dr. M told him there was nothing that could be done until the finger was completely contracted, like it is now. So Husband waited. When the finger had contracted as far it could get, Husband went to our new doctor, who I consider a good doctor. He said husband should have seen a surgeon as soon as the finger had begun to contract, and it was probably too late to do anything. He sent us
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Yearning for Simplicity, or Escape?

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In Portugal I walked through tiny villages where the women still gathered to wash clothes in a communal wash basin filled with rain water. Chickens and goats lived within walled gardens, roosters calling as I walked through village after village. Everywhere clothes were out to dry - on balconies, on lines suspended out of windows, on fences, in breezeways and on front porches. Laundry is not treated as a back-yard activity. Hydro is precious, and in every albergue I stayed in we were encouraged to air-dry our clothes, even if a dryer was available. I know I have romantic ideals on simple living. I know also that I want to taste the life I have never lived - out of town, with a few chickens and a goat. I dream of this life where I can return to the tasks I remember, maybe from my own life, maybe from a past life. City living - urban existence - it can wear you down. Portugal left me yearning for simplicity that I can attain. Some life-changes are pending. Last week I was not f
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