We Will Return To Our Regularly Scheduled Programming...

I am having technical difficulties...

A few weeks ago I dropped my BlackBerry in a puddle. It goes without saying that my BlackBerry didn't like that and rebelled in the most interesting and annoying ways. It would jump into the telephone screen without prompting, the screen would come on and stay on until the battery drained down, it wouldn't put spaces in my emails or texts (bless my friends for.tollerating.two.straight.weeks.of.conversations.that.looked.like.this.all.the.time...).

It dried out right around the time we had a near tornado (well, it sure felt like it) in my neighbourhood pouring buckets of water through my open living room window and onto my computer. That took another couple of days to dry out. (I would add a photograph here to show you how extreme the weather was but read on to technical difficulty number three and you'll see why I didn't)

Now, with my computer up and running and my BlackBerry with spaces a-plenty, my internet and cable have gone out in my apartment.

I do a fair amount of work at home at night that requires me to use the internet and without the addition of this ridiculous inconvenience, my work is sucking right now. Huge. I am trying and trying and getting nowhere fast in the biggest month of our year. My boss is on me relentlessly about my lack of success making me more miserable than I would normally be about the situation.

And so I am reduced to doing my on-line work at my local cafe that has wi-fi then the rest at home later... Of course having said that, I should be working right now but look what I am doing...

I find when I feel bombarded by coincidences like this, events over which I have little or no control but which have defined and sometimes profound impact on my day-to-day existence, it's easy to get dragged down by the undertow of problems. And I admit, I am certainly more sensitive to the pokes and jabs that I get these days... And I'm getting plenty of them too...

But what is making a far greater impact, what is helping me glide through this turmoil feeling relatively unscathed is the support and kindness of the people around me. Even as I am writing this, I received a text from a co-worker reminding me that my colleagues all know how hard I am working and don't let the boss get me down. Such a simple thing but that is exactly what allows me to get back up tomorrow and face the day with genuine optimism and hope.

And an umbrella just in case.

Wisdom from the Bowling Green... Or Someplace

I was out today on my way to get groceries (that is a story in itself... I have come to believe that you can define a person and the life they live solely by what is in their grocery cart... Mine is the definitive single-gal assortment... cocktail mixes, olives, microwavable dinners and snacks. Done.) when I passed my local tennis club which, on Sundays, is transformed to lawn bowling central.

And what I have noticed about lawn bowlers (I'm sorry for the upcoming stereotyping and welcome anyone who would like to reeducate me) is that they are all of a particular age bracket about a generation past my own. The sight of them all, about twenty or so, smartly dressed in their whites, made me miss my parents.

Not that my parents were lawn bowlers... Just the thought of that makes me laugh. No, far from it. But what I do miss is that parent/child relationship that, even when a dysfunctional one as mine was still for me provided a steady constant of insightful and wise life commentary.

I have now lived almost eight years with out my mother and more of my life has been spent without the support of my father than with it. And there are occasions, like today, where I deeply miss the opportunity to call them up, visit, listen to their stories and apply the lessons they had learned to my own experiences. I miss knowing that there is someone out there who knows me so intimately well that I don't have to explain why I am approaching things in the way I am and with that knowledge, can provide insight into what about me is leading me down this path.

Parents or grandparents (again, which I have none) provide that element of support and wisdom and guidance that cannot be replicated or replaced. Their opinions are sometimes hard to hear because, I think, in having the breadth of knowledge of your existence that only parents and grandparents can have, they are generally bang on in their assessments while at the same time having the boldness that age provides them in really not caring how delicately (translate not at all) they frame their thoughts. They are truth stripped naked. Take it or leave it. But even in their most harsh of criticism is the core, the seed of love from which the desire to help has sprouted.

And that is what I miss. As a parent and a friend and a co-worker I find myself often in the position of providing whatever wisdom (don't take that too literally) I have gained to offer alternatives for individuals seeking help. In taking on a role of supporter there always, at some point or other, comes a time when that the person giving support needs some as well.

Maybe I'll join a lawn bowling league.

Quit laughing.... It could happen.

In the Hope for Better Days

These are strange days it seems.

For a while now I’ve been commenting on how off-centre I’ve been feeling; describing my struggle to find a sense of balance where I wasn’t constantly feeling so lost and alone.

Coincidentally, I also noticed my new wayward duck neighbour who is still delighting me with his presence (no sign of friends or partners for my poor feathered friend I’m afraid, though). But although it seems all of this is unrelated and arbitrary, I am finding further evidence that this is not the case.

There seems to be some sort of cosmic misalignment happening. Or maybe a cosmic realignment. Who knows?

This is what else is contributing to my theory… Very recently three friends of mine have announced endings of significant relationships. Marriages for some and long-term partnerships for others. Now, by no means am I suggesting that any of these developments are the absolute conclusion of the relationship involved, but it is certainly the status currently. Also, I have other friends facing other personal challenges and difficulties that are wearing at their abilities to be optimistic and see any hope for a brighter day coming.

And my heart aches for all of them. Having gone through this agonizing exercise of ending a relationship, to my own conclusion which was right for me, I empathize with their senses of loss and being lost. It saddens me to witness any of my friends going through such challenging times, however they have found themselves there and from wherever the source. It is hugely frustrating to know there is nothing that can be done to ease their pain.

But I have faith that each of them will find their own way; do what is needed to take care of everyone involved. I know that this road is not always an easy one and I will let them know I am here to walk beside them if they need company.

And I will tell them what I believe to be true… each of them is deserving of happiness and although it may not seem evident right now, that happiness will come. Brighter days are on their way. I will be here for those days too, to laugh in the sunshine and be grateful for the end of the storm.

About that Judge and Jury Thing...

This is an interesting predicament.

I am getting lots of feedback on my last blog post, from friends (as in in-person friends I see day-to-day) as well as Facebook friends (that wonderful group of people I only know electronically but value completely)...

So that's good, right? People are reading my blog... Yippee!! Happy gal I am. But it's what they're saying...

Apparently I am causing concern. Equally from my in-person friends as my electronic ones. So I am here to hopefully calm your fears.

There is no doubt that I have been struggling with certain challenges lately, but then again, who hasn't? The blessing I am getting from this struggle is two-fold.

First, for the first time in my life probably, I am being totally open with how I'm feeling about things with people other than myself. No brave face, no smile to cover the pain. Just me. That, to me, is a blessing. It is a huge step forward in my own personal journey and am thankful for this opportunity.

Second, and what makes the first blessing even more remarkable, is that despite exposing my less-than-positive side, my weaknesses, my troubles, I am getting sincere, heart-felt messages of encouragement, hope and concern. From people I have known for years and from people I have known for days. Unexpected messages of support appear before me and I am lifted.

Could I be any luckier? I don't think so.

We all have our problems in life, that is not unique to me and mine are a cake-walk in comparison to others. What we should be thankful for, what I am enormously grateful for, is having people who are cheering me on towards better days.

The Other Side of Strength

Events in my life, from birth to recent history, have made me strong. They have challenged me to find within myself strength that upon recollection, I marvel that I was able to muster. This strength has natural side-effects; on the positive side, I am self-confident and assured with a clear knowledge of myself (although it has certainly come into question lately) and what I believe to be right and wrong for me. On the other side of that coin called strength are the less positive traits; stoic, aloof with and what I continue to struggle with, a complete inability to ask for help.

I began challenging this in myself after lunch date over a year ago with my eldest son. We meet regularly, me and my sons, in varying combinations. Rarely but exquisitely at times with all three, sometimes with girlfriends, sometimes only two and, like this occasion, sometimes I enjoy the company of one, allowing me precious time to really delve into his life.

On this date, conversation flowed from his current job (temporary but a good step forward for this young man), his love life (or the at-that-time lack there-of) and his brothers. As the separation of their parents became a long-term reality rather than a short-term solution, I wanted to know how he was dealing with this new normal. He, like any good son who loves his mother, told me that he wants his parents to be happy. That, of course, he would prefer us together but if apart made us happy, then he was happy too. I have amazing sons. For all the challenges they have presented over the years, they are blessings to me and I am thankful I am their mother.

I decided I would ask him for his observations of his brothers as they have gone through this transition; maybe, I thought, they had confided their thoughts to him and he could provide me some insight in how to best support them. “How are they doing, do you think?” I asked. His response shook me to the core. “We are all like you, Mom. We keep our feelings pretty close to our chests. They haven’t said anything.”

I was dumbfounded. I struggled to absorb the impact of his words; his analysis not only of his brothers’ management of this difficult time in their lives, but of my entire approach as a mother.

Suddenly being strong felt different. Suddenly it felt bad. I questioned every move I made as a parent. I know that I provided hugs, kisses and expressions of love and affection in abundance, but in my efforts to provide them a strong female role model had I, in fact, shown them how to stifle their own fears, sadness and disappointment? And what was I to do now?

I possess enough self-knowledge to know from where this stunted aspect of my personality comes. I was born to a young woman unsure of her desire to be a mother. She placed me in foster care while she attempted to sort out her life and her choices. In the two years in their care, I lived in four foster homes before my birth mother gave up all rights to me as her daughter. I was then adopted by a family with the picture-perfect mother, father and daughter; add me, one more for a well-rounded foursome. What the perfect picture didn’t show was an over-abundance of dysfunction and actions that left scars upon each one of us. All of this taught me, imprinted upon me, that the only person in this life I can depend on, is me. My lessons in strength started at the ripe old age of two weeks. I am a leopard, unable to change my spots. What I can do, what I must do, is learn, at this age, how to adapt myself in a way that acknowledges my shortcomings and attempts to fill in the gaps. I need to connect the spots.

I no more want to ask for help than I want to go one full season without getting new clothes. It’s just not me. And it’s not for the reasons you are probably thinking. It’s not because I don’t like to be dependent on others (although that is true); and it’s not because I’m worried they will say no (ok, that's also true). It is, quite simply, because if I am not strong, what am I? This is my persona that I have worked on, cultivated, had thrust upon me and finally learned to embrace and rely upon. How am I, the one that all of my friends refer to as the strong one, supposed to let that go and ask for help? If I am the strong one, who is strong enough to help me? And what kind of burden does that put on them?

I need to figure this out. I need to find the answer and get comfortable in that place so that I can show my sons that it is ok to be vulnerable, sad and scared (which I am) and it’s also ok to share that with people you trust (which I am not). I need to live the change. I need to connect the spots.

If not for me, for my boys. And that’s plenty reason enough.

Across the universe

I believe in goodness. I really do.

In my life I have faced my share of bad times... worse than some but certainly not as bad stories I have heard from others. I have been privileged by being entrusted with heartbreaking recollections from people who have shown more strength in overcoming their pasts than I can ever imagine possessing. Human beings' capacity for committing horrors upon its own kind and those with which we share this earth is both frightening and discouraging.

And yet, despite all that, I am hopeful. I believe in goodness. And I'll tell you why (what did you expect? This is a blog after all).

I have, as you may have read, been experiencing some difficulty coping lately. It comes and goes, but lately it has felt particularly debilitating. I'm sure there are a number of reasons for that but how I got here isn't what I want to focus on. What I want to talk about, what has amazed me, and what will give me the strength to know I will emerge and be just fine is what has happened as I have shared my struggle.

I am a Facebook-er. Love it. Have fun all the time and visit multiple times most days. Among the many applications you can add to your profile is one called Give Good Karma. It's a simple little notion, get good given to you and share it... pay it forward. When I was feeling particularly low, lonely, lost... I indicated that I needed some good karma (a very nice little bonus that the creators of the application added that coincidently I hadn't noticed until, go figure, I needed it.). This sent a call for help out across the cyber-universe that I wasn't sure would be heard.

Within minutes messages of hope and support started coming in. People, strangers to me, began responding and telling me I wasn't alone, that I was strong enough to get past this, that hope exists and I should find shelter in that hope.

This world can be a terrible place and we are reminded of that, bombarded with the images and stories of that fact daily, hourly.

But to me... a woman living alone in Ontario, Canada it is filled with people who have so much caring in them, that they are willing to perform a simple, pure act of kindness for someone they have no likelihood of meeting. I have thanked all of them and I have made efforts to pay this goodness forward. And I will continue to do so.

Always remember, your small acts of kindness most surely mean more to the recipient than you will ever know. I can tell you that for sure.