I began to sweat as I tried to balance myself in tree pose with prayer hands. Prayer is definitely going to be needed to get through this, I mused. I used to be able to do this. Do it well. Of course that was over 5000 days ago if you do the math. My personal trainer sister gave me this fat blasting yoga video the summer of 2004 while I was visiting her in Toronto and dying from the humidity and heat as I whined about my long sleeve baggy sweatshirt uniform. I remember her pleading with me to ditch the sweatshirt but it was my security blanket. I was pretty convinced I was hiding my unwanted girth beneath it. My sister assured me I was not. (Only sisters can talk to you like that and even that’s treacherous). I thought maybe I could sweat off a few pounds. Problem was I couldn’t move because all that heat zaps my energy. I remember her dragging me around her jogging path at 4 a.m. to get out there before the heat hit. Of course, I was useless for the rest of the day.

My sister saw into the future and decided I needed this video. I took it home with me, gratefully, and began to go through the yogi’s contortions in the privacy of my basement. I was doing it again this morning… almost 15 years later.  I completed the 61.27 minutes this past Monday morning as well. My gut was so stiff yesterday I couldn’t cross my arms. I know…what’s that got to do with my stomach? Well you see, my stomach currently takes up all the real estate between my thighs and upper rib cage. My favorite clothes (in this size) are starting to feel stressed at the seams. Thankfully I’m not working these days and I can live in my baggy flannel shirts and leggings. Of course, if I was working, I wouldn’t have had the time to sit on the couch for 10 months reading, writing, listening to music, eating hot tomales and Starbucks sweet BBQ chips, drinking cranberry ginger ale and peach green tea lemonade. What’s done is done. Do not dwell on the past.

One of the moves for strengthening the stomach muscles is to place your stomach against the workout ball and roll your self forward into a plank position and then lift one leg at a time off the ball and hold it up in the air while balancing your other leg on the ball. I know it probably sounds easy but I ended up rolling off the ball and blasting that fat all over the cement floor in a fit of personal embarrassment and laughter. If I’d been in an actual class with other people I’d have been kicked out for being inebriated.

There is another move which I have never mastered and I’m quite certain I never will. You sit on the floor, with legs crossed in Native American style, and you lift both your butt and your tangled legs off the floor using only the strength of your (and by ‘your’ I mean ‘my’) weak and shaky arms,  which are planted firmly on the floor behind you.   Yes, the yogi can do it but hello?  I’m lifting quite a lot more weight than she is.  And that’s why I do this in the privacy of my basement. The standing big toe stretch can be pretty comical as well. I look like a spaz compared to the gals on the video. Thankfully they can’t see me. If this were an app on my phone, I wouldn’t be so confident of that.

I asked Lexie if she would paint my toenails for me and she queried “and why is it you can’t do this yourself?” I had to come clean and admit that the huge growth on my abdomen was impairing my ability to reach down that far  without passing out, cramping up or falling over spilling red nail polish all over the rug. I’m hoping the downward dogs, planks and chaturangas will  alleviate this  problem.

I guess it’s fairly plain that much, much more practice is needed. I do know this…. after I do this particular yoga video several times a week for more than a month, I start to feel great and look more vibrant. I don’t even care if I lose weight because I look and feel better. And I just ignore the A-OK hand symbol that represents the past and the future…blah, blah, blah. With yoga you are supposed to empty out a busy mind. I’d better be careful not to empty out everything, I’m going to need some of that for interviews and subsequently, work.

However, it does feel good to stretch and move again. I feel like I’m doing something good for myself. I’m doing something, period. So even if visible results take a few months I know I’m moving forward. I frequently think of a movie I watched with Bette Midler and the short guy…..oh, yes, Danny Devito. I think it was called Ruthless People. Bette Midler’s character was kidnapped and locked in a basement where there happened to be fitness equipment and she got into such good shape during her incarceration that her husband wanted her back after refusing to pay the required ransom.

So back to the dungeon for me. Once I have the fat blasting yoga routine mastered again I will switch up my DVDs and let Jillian Michael’s get away with attempted homicide.

 

Power walking on the treadmill at the gym, I’m asking myself… what was the point I was trying to make in Adulting 101? It was more of a ramble wasn’t it? Me just spewing out thoughts as they popped into my mind.

It started off with me taking in our home from the vantage point of our bar height dining room table where I could see and feel the warmth of the fireplace and the ambience of hundreds of twinkling mini lights as I read, journaled, drank Perrier and watched my favorite new show, Last Man Standing. (Ok it’s an old show but new to me). I was just wondering ‘what I did to be so blessed?’ As my thoughts progressed, I realized that we are where we are by the grace of God alone AND it’s a good place. But also because we have made mostly adult choices and decisions along the way. This is not to say we have never made childish, foolish or selfish choices as well but thankfully the majority of decisions were hatched out of an adult mind and mentality and we have asked for the wisdom of our Father. James says ‘that if anyone lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously and without reproach.’ So I took God up on that offer.

Even though we second guess ourselves very often and feel like we are jumping out of a plane without a parachute on many occasions, there is evidence of growth and maturity. The results of making unselfish, God-guided, sacrificial decisions has bode us well. We didn’t get here over night. I’m not foolish enough to think we’ve arrived either. It also doesn’t mean we deserve our blessings but they have been graciously bestowed upon us, even when we haven’t adulted.

In Hebrews, Paul had this to say about that. “About this we have much to say, and it is hard to explain, since you have become dull of hearing……14 But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil….Therefore let us leave the elementary doctrine of Christ and go on to maturity…”.

Adulting is hard and not for wimps but it’s worth it! God’s plan was that we would grow and mature from babies into adults. Babies can not carry out God’s will upon earth… well… wait. There was this one baby. How could I forget? It’s not even 3 weeks since Christmas….

This leads me to believe that maturity (or adulting) was the plan all along. So regardless of how insecure and childish I often feel inside, I definitely am an adult and it has its rewards for sure. Maturity is not something to avoid or be shunned, it’s something to aim for and desire.

I pray I will never be referred to as a spoiled child in an aging adult body. Such a travesty. I cherish and covet my adult friends. Let’s grow old and mature together. And let’s enjoy the fruits and privileges that come along with that. And the blessings we don’t deserve.

Sometimes I look around our home and wonder, how did I end up in this beautiful home with its black and white striped wall paper, chandeliers and original paintings by us? Not to mention the trendy grey walls, black woodwork trim, black hardwood, black and white checked tile flooring. Also the lacquer upright grande piano, red front loading HE washer and dryer, flick of a switch fireplace, floor to ceiling pantry, attached garage, pedestal sinks in the bathrooms, walk in closet, french door, 9ft ceilings and Hunter Douglas wood blinds. Let’s not forget the impressive entryway with a 2 story ceiling and built in sitting/storage bench, remodeled island and finished stairwell to the basement. I am aware this sounds like a realtor trying to sell you the place but seriously, this place is definitely not for sale. I haven’t even mentioned the backyard with a huge covered deck and brick patio, quaint barn shed and 40 foot columnar aspens we planted ourselves 7 years ago. The reality is totally amazing and surreal.

Yes it’s a carriage house (fancy name for attached home) but who cares? It’s amazing and often times I feel so undeserving to be residing here. And the piece de resistance? I live here with the husband of my youth and, at the moment, our two adult children.

I sit here and gaze around in total astonishment. As if we were full fledged adults, we had this place built and chose all the colours and upgrades and details and I must admit, we made pretty good choices. We even picked out the Schulter.  I had never even heard of schulter let alone know what it’s used for. (It’s a nice finishing seal for tiles on walls in case you you have no clue either). Our names are on the mortgage. Maybe that’s not something to brag about… we’re 60 and we still have a mortgage. Such is life.

I mean I actually buy stuff like sheets, pillows, towels and toilet paper. Light bulbs, laundry soap, spices, bandaids and Christmas trees. I have a collection of cookbooks that could turn me into a chef if I’m not careful. Who needs university? I have a sewing machine and a serger and I’m not afraid to use them. A bread machine. A Cricut (a very fancy paper cutter) and a Verrisimo to make exotic coffees for our guests.

Pottery barn, Williams Sonoma, Homesense and IKEA are my favorite stores, although I might mention that most of our furniture…ok-all of our furniture, came out of someone’s garbage, was passed down to us, given to us, bought on Kijiji or found in the ditch at Sylvan Lake. Luckily, we know how to sand, paint and reupholster.

The fact that I am blessed is obvious, but that’s not my point. Adulting is my point. I wake up to find, to my utter amazement, that we actually are adults. I didn’t realize it took 60 years to get here. We take out garbage. Black Tuesday. Green and blue Wednesday. I make meatloaf, banana bread, oatmeal and heart smart salads. So weird because when I was a kid, I vowed when I grew up and could do whatever I wanted (jokes on me), I would eat Captain Crunch for every meal forever.

I often ask myself, whose life is this anyway? As if I were on the outside looking in. I remember living in Toronto while Mike attended chiropractic college, we were poor as church mice and assets were non-existent. Our temporary rented home was functional, basic and boring. We happened to be invited to the home of some friends from church and I was checking out their bathroom, not unlike Steve Martin in Father of the Bride (however I did not fall from their second floor bathroom into the swimming pool) and was amazed and impressed with the pictures hanging in the bathroom, the guest towels, the candle burning, the beautiful bathmat set, the fancy and aromatic soaps and lotions and I clearly remember thinking-so this is how adults live. Someday I will furnish my home like this and I will be an adult too. It’s possible.

You may be thinking, well that’s very obvious…. you are an adult. But is it? I mean our kids are adults if age is a major indicator but I have never really felt like one. Maybe it’s denial??? I ask you, what’s so great about being an adult? You have to make difficult decisions and endure emotional pain very often. You are required to be wise and responsible and unselfish. That’s a tall order that some very aged adults have not reached. I’m not foolish enough to think that the sum total of our stuff and status makes us adults. Our PM and the POTUS have shown us that (did I say that with my outside voice?). However, I do sit here and ponder these things.

Often I feel like an actor in a movie or at least an imposter, pretending to be an adult. Pretending to be married (for 36 years to the same man, now that’s real), with 27 and 30 year old kids. We have a mortgage, insurance, health care, a profession (well my husband and does), debt (most unfortunately), aches and pains, laugh lines (even though life hasn’t been all that funny at times), indigestion, topped off by nightly leg cramps. We wear glasses, have had laser surgery, colonoscopies (now there’s a fun thought), age spots (me). Our first few steps in the morning when we get out of bed mimic those of a 98 year old. Our bodies are adults for sure, my mind just hasn’t caught up yet.

I’m beginning to understand those movies plots that switch courses half way through the movie. These are the things you think about when you have too much time on your hands and worse still, you have the time to write about it.

I must run now and go to my workout followed by meeting with a friend to glean some professional wisdom so I will try to think of a conclusion to this diatribe when I return. Thanks for reading.

So here I sit on a wintery Monday morning, January 8th, wondering what my next step is. In my heart of hearts, I truly thought I’d be working come the new year. Just the way everything was coming together, I thought for sure one of those jobs was mine. I’ve spent a few days reeling from the blow that I will not have the joy of starting with either of those organizations this January and now I must move on.

What have I learned? I’ve learned that you have to be dead serious about playing the game. The HR game. There is only one game, faith based organization or not, and if one wants to win they must play like their life depends on it. It occurs to me it’s a lot like the reality TV shows, Big Brother or Survivor. You must use strategy and sly cleverness. You must form alliances. Tell different people different stories and there’s very little room for blatant honesty. I’m not very good at the game I’m realizing. Maybe I’m too real and too honest. Just being me. I guess that’s why it feels like rejection because they actually ARE rejecting me. If I had put on some phoniness and told some tall tales, then it wouldn’t really be me they are passing over it would be the person I was pretending to be.

I’ll admit that most likely someone else was younger or had credentials I don’t possess. I mean why wouldn’t they choose a 35 year old with a degree? Possibly the person that was actually hired had worked in that type of organization before… I had not. Or maybe the successful candidate spent hours rehearsing all the correct answers to every possible question. You don’t know which questions they will ask so you have to come up with a clever answer to all possible questions. That is a ton of work… more work that the position itself, in many cases. But I guess that’s the screening process these days based on mounds of psychological research. And it’s quite obvious these HR professionals do not deviate from the rules. There appears to be no room for gut feelings or intuition. Not that I’m assuming they felt that with me, I’m just saying.

Let’s face it, once they see the whites of my eyes they can pretty well guess how old I am. And it becomes pretty obvious that I’m not seeking a career or planning to climb the corporate ladder. I’m just desperate for a job and that’s not something I can hide or deny. I’m willing to work my butt off and be ‘all in’ for the next 5-10 years but that’s all I can offer at best. I’m a bad risk if they’re looking for longevity or that ‘claw my way to the top’ instinct. Maybe they fear they can’t teach an old dog new tricks?

You see, I’m finding my son maybe does have this figured out to a certain degree. He keeps telling me that the only way to get the dream job is to lie through your teeth and I’m beginning to believe him. Maybe not lie…but definitely you can’t be yourself and you do have to embellish. And that is one reason why I haven’t started my own business. I’m not very good at promoting my skills. I never have been. I’ve never had that confidence or inherent self worth.

I know what I can do but I need an opportunity to show it. Maybe if I was as good a communicator as I profess I’d be able to express it so well in words that I’d close the deal.  I’m that person that aces the day to day assignments and tasks but totally chokes up on the exam.

The real story lies within and I don’t often get a chance to share it. Next time they ask that question, Why should we hire you? I just want to reply… you’d be foolish not to hire me because if this position becomes mine, I will own it. You’ll never find anyone more loyal or faithful to doing a good job for your company because once I enter into a contract I am fiercely committed to providing the service that you hired me for. You won’t find anyone that will work harder. You won’t find someone more resourceful. You won’t find anyone that endeavours get along with all people as I do. I find difficult people a challenge to win over not a reason to quit or whine. I end up loving my work because I consider the opportunity to work for a living a blessing. I’ll be on time. I’ll work late to get the job done. I’ll never say to anyone ‘that’s not my job’. Instead I’ll say, leave it with me and I’ll handle it (then find out who does it or how to do it myself). I’m prolific learner and believe in continuous improvement. I’m highly motivated. I don’t shirk away from responsibility and hard work. I have years of life and relationship experience. I can handle stress with the best. The Lord knows the stress I’ve dealt with in this life and I’m still here, in one piece, and I’ve never been institutionalized. But alas, nobody asked me that question, not this time.

True, I did think of all the brilliant answers to their questions as soon as I drove away. Maybe I’m just too old for this game. Truth be told, do I even want to play anymore? Did I ever? I know I can handle the work, I know it, but I’m just tired of jumping through emotional and psychological hoops trying to prove it. There are so many things I do so well that are obvious to the world and yet, I find myself trying to prove I’m worth hiring and clearly not doing a stellar job of it.

If I really believe that God is in control of all of this and knows my needs (and I do and He does) then I must believe that these organizations are not where God wants me no matter how virtuous they seemed. This was not God’s plan for me. Maybe He was saving me from an unpleasant work experience or maybe He just has something far more ‘perfect for me’ in mind. I just need to continue to trust that He knows what He’s doing. I do what I can do in the flesh and leave the rest to Him. I need to learn to walk by faith not by sight.

True story… He has never let me down or deserted me before. Oh it felt like it at times, it truly did, but in the end, He has always come through for me. Always. He has NEVER let me down. He has never left me or forsaken me and this is something I CAN say with full confidence. I know He has a plan for me and it’s not to harm me, it’s to prosper me and give me a future and a hope…. I would have lost heart, had I not known I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

Disclaimer: I feel better already. I’m moving forward with joy.  And this is what writing my thoughts down does for me (this was my first draft btw). It empowers me and encourages me and God speaks to me through my own writing. You should try it!

 

Reading my cookbook collection. Each book like a novel. My criteria, other than being on the $3-$5 table at Chapters, was to buy only cookbooks with stories of culture, geography and food philosophy so they would be interesting to read as well as to cook from. For Christmas, I received a gift certificate for a cooking class at a french cooking school. These activities, I’m really looking forward to in this new year.

I always seek out a word or words and several passages of scripture to define my year. The word that seems to be on my heart is ‘stewardship’ with ‘contentment’. One verse that keeps repeating itself in my life is ‘let us throw off all that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles and let us run with endurance the race that is marked out before us…’. I’m curious. What is the race that is marked out before me? Oh sure, I know all of the things God asks all of us to do but what are the things that He wants me to specifically do? Have I done them? Am I doing them? Am I on the right path?

There is the parable of the talents and the Sermon on the Mount which are both speaking to me lately. Both will be inspirational as I endeavour to ‘steward’ my blessings this year. Hopefully stewardship will be a life long practice. Stewarding my time. Stewarding my health. Stewarding my wealth. Stewarding my relationships. Stewarding my soul. These amenities do not belong to me but they have been entrusted to me and I need to steward them wisely and responsibly.

In years past I have felt somewhat out of control. The more controlling I tried to be the more life spiralled out of control. Sometimes lost. Often overwhelmed. Frequently self sufficient. At times, selfish. Cowering in fear more than I’d like to admit. ‘She is clothed with strength and dignity and laughs at the days to come.’ I’m still working on that. I believe it will be a journey not a destination.

I want to improve my blog-make it more user friendly. I want to write more. I want to be thankful for 3 things every day-keep a gratitude journal. I want to strengthen and heal my body with real food, homecooking, physical training and sleep. I want to find meaningful work-lucrative would also be a nice plus. I want to quit storing up for myself treasures on earth where moth and rust destroy and thieves break in and steal. I want to simplify-learn to live with less. I want to spend more time face to face with people and less time on Fakebook and Insta-fairytale. I want to read and learn and engage in activities that will keep my mind sharp. I want to accept wrinkles and grey hair and grow old gracefully. Not that 60 is considered old these days but, let’s face it I am in the latter half of life. I want to spend more time praying and more time believing and less time fearing and doubting and panicking. More time contending for the promises of God.

I want the peace that comes with contentment. What is contentment really? I am determined to find out and when I do I will share what I’ve found. I believe I’m on the cusp. I want to be right with my Father and all His children. I want to bless people and I want to make beautiful things. I want to make beautiful things to bless people. There is still a lot of beauty to be found on earth every day and I’m going to find it. Seek and you will find. Very often I don’t even have to seek, beauty is just there staring me in the face.

I want to discover new music. I want to sing more. Read more. Listen more. Let go of things more. Get angry less. Be selfish less. Be impatient less. Be lazy less. More kindness. More love. Less resentment. Less rushed.

Likely this sounds like a totally impossible self improvement plan. But my aim is not perfection, it’s continuous improvement. God is not through with me yet. I am a work in progress. I can do all things through Christ and that folks is the secret of contentment. I just need to go out and get more practice. As long as I am unemployed I have lots of time to nurture these goals and if the Lord blesses me with a traditional job I will still find a way to include these priorities in my life.

I’ve noticed a new trend on Instagram. Very often when people post amazing pictures of themselves, their kids and families, dressed to the nines or on a wonderful vacation or accomplishing something magnificent or even just giving a virtual tour of their designer homes, many of the comments just say this. ‘Goals’. Many people are looking to others and wanting to models themselves after unrealistic perceptions of very imperfect people. I know when I match up my goals to the Word, I can attain a reasonable level of growth because this is what God calls me to. The goal is not perfection but excellence.

So 2018… bring it on. I’m ready for ya. Not that I have a choice. Nervous Laugh out loud. NLOL

 

 

 

 

A repost from our NYC trip in 2014. I realize Christmas is over but I meant to post this a few weeks ago and forgot.  So here it is anyway.

 

Take me back to last Friday morning when my mom, my sister, my daughter and I got up at 5:30am to sneak down to the Rock to see the lit Norway Spruce in serenity and awe. We were finally able to linger on the park benches and just take in this majestic sight (with only 3 or 4 other strangers with the same idea)…the symbol of Christmas..probably around the world . New York City knows how to do Christmas….all the way from the Salvation Army volunteers bopping to Feliz Navidad, to the Snowflake light show on the SAKS building at night, to the store window displays, and the Rockettes Christmas spectacular (aptly named), to the hot apple cider with cinnamon sticks at Byrant park skating rink and SAKS Narnia décor on the main floor with jazz band….NYC was the epitome of everything I ever thought Christmas was about. The decorations and the lights…over the top. Luckily my house back home was already decorated but just wait until next year. We will bring NYC here.
The clerks in the stores wish you “Merry Christmas” (not Happy Holidays or Celebrate Happy and Seasons Greetings). In fact, while we were in New York, a worthy news item was how Washington was trying to preserve the true meaning of Christmas and had a live nativity scene out on the lawn. The Rockettes Christmas spectacular, while having amazing special effects and music and dancing and Santa and 3D glasses, finished off the show with the most awe inspiring, praise worthy Christmas pageant I’ve ever seen. Opulent but spine tingling…the night stars and THE star and the majesty of the three kings and the focus on the baby Jesus in a manger….I glanced over at mother and she was balling like a baby she was so moved. She even heard Kanye West rap the words “Only Jesus can save us” at the free Aids benefit concert that we were privileged to be at. We even had a wave from Regis Philbin from the US Today studio on the windowed ground level across from the Rockefeller centre.
We happened to be on top of the Empire State building on the clearest night of the week (the week that we visited). The view of the city lights was breath taking…if it hadn’t been so cold we could have stayed up there all evening. This same sunny clear day we visited Ground Zero and paid our respects to the fallen of 9/11 followed by a ferry ride out to stand with Lady Liberty on her island. The history of Ellis Island pulled at our heart strings and I could just feel the range of emotions that immigrants coming to America felt when landing on the shores of New York to pursue the American Dream.
Walking down 5th Ave. after night fall (at 4:00pm) was a wonderful New York moment….passing Ralph Lauren and Harry Winston and Tiffany’s and Bergdorf Goodman’s all decked out for Christmas. We decided to stop in at Bergdorf’s ( did you know that all of these department stores seem to have 9 floors and the Christmas decorations are always on the 9th floor?) and of course we went into FAO Swartz (I have to admit I was a little disappointed when my credit card bill registered my purchase as “Toys R Us”….lost a bit of the magic for me). Visiting Macy’s with its “Believe” slogans everywhere brought home the Miracle on 34th Street message – which is more than just believing in Santa Clause but rather about having faith and hope in mankind and a higher being – for me, the Lord Jesus Christ.
Bloomingdales, Central Park, Park Plaza Hotel…all icons of New York City were visited and photographs taken. Our photo journal of the reality that felt like a dream. And the Starbucks….on every corner. Our favorite one though was the Mother of all Starbucks…with two service counters and an open photo booth where we could pose for pictures and email them immediately to anyone whose email we had memorized and we did. Every day…almost.
The open air bus tours were a great idea….we saw a lot of New York we would never have seen on foot. Speaking of feet, my 82 year old mother, kept pace with us for four days. She didn’t miss a thing thanks to her new memory foam joggers.
But the highlight of this experience (which was a Bucket list item for all of us) was sharing these New York Christmas moments with each other. Sharing the experience made the experience.
Precious moments,
Special people,
Happy faces,
I can see.
Somewhere in my mem’ry,
Christmas joys all around me,
Living in my mem’ry,
All of the music,
All of the magic,
All of the fam’ly home here with me.

A little late with my recap of 2017 but that’s ok since there are really only 20 of you reading this. It’s only January 5th. As I relax in my writing chair listening to epic music and rifling down corn and carrots from yesterday’s dinner I can’t help but reflect on the past year. It went by in a blur and yet…. not.

Time rushes by like a river on its way down a mountain and it feels like you’d better not waste a moment or you’ll never catch up In this life. And at other times it feels so slow -a turtle wading through molasses – that we tend to wish time away and waste all the moments.

When I think about the passing of 365 days, it’s almost scary. 2017 began with me employed at a job I cherished. Andrew living in another city trying to make his way. Our dear Hawaii friends pursuing a new adventure in their tropical existence. I was going to move through the passage of age as I hit 60 this year and mom ripened to 85. I was full of hope and promise, as was life, or so it seemed. Same house, same cars, same habits, same loves, same faith, same friends, same family.

I had this strange sense of anticipation for the coming year. I took down the Christmas decorations and plowed through winter. I was making pasta weekly with my new pasta maker. Lexie won 10 box seat tickets to a Flames game in January, which we invited several of our friends to and just had A blast. I was back in the routine of going to the office gym at 5:30 in the morning for an invigorating workout 3x a week. Mike remodelled our kitchen island and it was, and is, grand. I started to collect cookbooks from the clearance table at chapters and was trying my hand at all kinds of delicacies that I’ve always yearned to prepare. This upon the recommendation of my favorite new author. I received a book of hers as a Christmas gift, read it 3x over as it reverberated with my soul and proceeded to buy her other 4 books and read them twice each over the spring. Also at this authors inspiration, i finally started the blog I’d  been talking about for 5 years and was finding great satisfaction having an outlet for my writing and the thoughts that had been duking it out in my brain for years.

Then on March 28th at 10:00 am I was called into the main floor board room to be informed of my redundancy. It wasn’t the hugest of surprises since the company was going through layoffs anyway and several of the people I work for were let go and yet, when it happens to you, no matter how prepared you think you are for it, it just feels like rejection. I know I have a rejection scar from a prior incident many years ago and every time something like this happens, the bandaid is ripped off again and you forget how much it stings. Very much like going on an interview only to find out that they chose somebody else time and time again. I have a determination not to let these things bother me and yet they do, every time. I hope and pray I’ll get stronger each time but I’m not so sure that is what’s happening.

Then my son realized he needed to come home to a more supportive environment shortly after I was unemployed. So the two of us spent the summer feeling useless, like failures and making each other crazy. I decided to take up walking two hours a day to clear my mind, raise my good cholesterol, sort through my next steps and hear from God. It was invigorating and healing. I felt like I’d been born again.

I did experience a wonderful distraction via a vacation with my mom, my daughter and my sisters for mom’s 85th birthday. We escaped our humdrum lives and met up in Las Vegas which turned out to be a vacation to be remembered for all time. In the same way conditions merge to form the perfect storm, circumstances merged to form the perfect vacation. The perfect remembrance. The perfect girls holiday. The perfect way to celebrate mother.

By mid summer our Hawaii friends were up to their eyeballs in cancer. I may as well not floss over it. One of mikes best friends, is still fighting and hanging on by a thread. He’s been walking in a miraculous remission for 9 years and we’ve shared so many memories, good times, laughs, tears, and friendship with these folks. Naturally we are still praying and hoping for a miracle but our faith has been thin enough to see through at times.

Come September a friend of a friend referred my pie making skills to a family that were celebrating the lives of both their parents at the same time. These fine folks decided to make their way to heaven together. And to honour their mom’s memory the children wanted to find someone who could duplicate her apple pie and butter tarts to serve at the joint service which was attended by 450. That’s a lot of pastry folks. I passed the trial bakeoff and was given the green light for 70 pies and 30 dozen butter tarts. Being a part of this celebration of life changed my life in so many ways.

By now, my son was working so I had the house to myself most of autumn, and passed my time baking in my remodelled kitchen. I also decided I was invincible in the baking arena and offered out my services for Christmas baking. Who knew this was going to be as popular as medicinal (legalized) maraquana.

I successfully completed the Whole 30 this summer. That was an enlightening, victorious experience. Since then I’ve been on the Half 60, which doesn’t do a thing btw.

I guess I would be remiss if I left out my 60th birthday. I didn’t think turning 60 was going to be any big emotional deal until my daughter, thinking it would be funny and that I had a sense of humour that could take it , put up a sign on the morning of my birthday that read ‘holy shit you’re old”. Much to even to my surprise, I had a negative reaction. It may have been the redundancy thing. It may have been both adult children living at home (feeling like my style had been cramped). It may have been the whiskey, could have been the gin. All I know is I was a mess until the pink limousine pulled up the following Saturday morning to take me to a birthday luncheon fit for a queen.

So there you have it. I’m still trying to make sense of many circumstances I found myself in this past year. Some of these incidents seem to be related somehow and others are just a mystery at the moment. Maybe forever. The year has been a combination of victory and growth as well as confusion and pain but somehow I have this feeling the confusion and pain is going to turn into victory and growth as time goes by.

12 Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. 13 Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. 15 Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you. 16 Only let us hold true to what we have attained. Philippians 3

 

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Sitting here in the aftermath of Christmas and reflecting on the season. I have to say, for me, every Christmas is entirely different. Each Christmas brings its new joys and challenges. I think most of us are always trying to recreate a past experience of Christmas. Live it again in all its glory. While there is definitely something to be said for tradition (I am all for tradition) forging new territory is not necessarily negative. When it comes to Christmas we tend live in nostalgia. I do it. I relive past precious Christmases and walk into each new season with a pocketful of expectations. Many of them unrealistic. That is definitely a recipe for disappointment. Like Santas sack of toys, I had a sack full of expectations and disappointments. I didn’t get all my baking done or I burnt it. I didn’t get a card from someone significant. A favorite Christmas party was cancelled. All the needles fell of my tree before December 25th. I didn’t lose the 25lbs I pledged myself I would. I was so rushed I didn’t have time to enjoy a silent night. My company scratched my hardwood floors. My husband got a a terrible Christmas cold and didn’t feel good enough to socialize. A snow storm prevented our company from coming after I spent weeks preparing for them. I ran out of money before my Christmas shopping was done and a host of other minor annoyances.

I’ve finally realized that expectations birth disappointment. In the past it was easy to get me rattled when everything didn’t go exactly accordingly to plan and expectations. But, thankfully, I have mellowed out when it comes to Christmas. Much to the benefit of all who live under this roof. I truly do take it as it comes and just enjoy the season for what it is. Peace on earth, goodwill toward all men. Not stress on earth and resentment toward people. I don’t know if it’s a wisdom and letting go that come with age and experience or a divine paradigm shift but I’m far more apt to go with the flow these days and enjoy each moment. Live in the moment and cherish the relationships and the loved ones I share this season with.

Everything doesn’t have to be perfect. Perfection is phony at its best and unattainable at its worst. My focus is now on relationship and peace. I try to let go of as much baggage and expectation as possible and focus on the moment. As you know, if you’ve ever read anything I’ve written, that Christmas isn’t just a day to me, it’s a season. With this perspective there is lots of time to enjoy Christmas and contemplate it’s true meaning and plenty of time to let go of disappointment.

One particular challenge this Christmas involves a dear friend that, by all appearances, cancer will win the battle. Rather than let this ruin our Christmas we have endeavoured to be there for him and his family and cherish all the lucid and not so lucid moments. Even in this we are making memories. We will have these memories of him in his last precious days. Plus being a witness to his disease puts so many things into perspective for us. It’s a reminder of what is really important in life and at Christmas.

It’s not about the lights and the decorations and the food and the gifts and the parties and the clothes or a partridge in a pear tree. These things are fun and not evil but they are not the main focus. I truly believe my best moments this December have been the visits with our friends, in their cramped living quarters, with our friends hospital bed in the middle of the living room decked out in red and black buffalo checked sheets, blankets and pillows and his plaid pyjamas and Santa hat. We’ve laughed at the hilarious things he says while on powerful pain meds and cried at the reality of what is really happening. We’ve chatted while he slept , totally unaware of our presence. It hasnt been glamourous or always cheerful but it’s been real. And there is something about this raw realness that has changed me and my expectations of Christmas.

My 6 CD player in my car is on the fritz. It seemed to go on strike when I put that first Christmas CD in. I resorted to listening to the radio. I found a Christian station that played Christmas music 24/7 starting December 1. In between sets of seasonal tunes there was dialogue and invitations to join many organizations that are helping disenfranchised people get through this difficult season. I heard about the Mustard seed, the Food bank, the Dream centre, the Pregnancy care centre, Compassion child, the Woman’s shelter, the YMCA and YWCA and even the radio station was taking on less fortunate families going through difficult times and it occurred to me that people enjoying Christmas in all of its glitzy, commercialized glory were in the minority. I actually believe there are more people suffering through Christmas than there are people enjoying it. It was very sobering.

I am SO blessed to be in the minority that have enjoyed most of the Christmases in my life. It’s mostly been good times and precious memories for me. How did I get so lucky? I don’t know. I do know I don’t deserve it but I am so grateful to have spent another Christmas surrounded by those I love, with shelter, a warm bed, plenty of sustenance, gifts even, music, health and opportunities to extend love to others. And I’m not sad it’s over because it’s not.

I will honour Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year.