Killing Time

Can we ever be happy?

I had anticipated that by now I would have a full work calendar. That I would be busy and the days would fly by.

I spent seven years in a full time position that was by no means full time, which meant a lot of down time. I then moved on to a non-profit organization where the work was never done, I could be as busy or as slow as I wanted to be.

I usually chose to work steady....

Now some of my days are filled with a lot of nothing.....

From time to time I ponder the many ways I could be more productive....perhaps by weeding my garden or scrubbing my toilet.

I am suspicious that this new job will be feast or famine, I expect that during the crazy times I will occasionally long for days like today.

I have also decided that networking a bit in blogsphere is not entirely unproductive.

How many times did I wish for more time to blog? Now I am wishing for less?? Which leads to the question can we ever be happy?

I have a whole theory about this. Involving looking to our surroundings and circumstances for happiness when true happiness is completely outside of that and lies with our maker..... I won’t get into all that today, instead I will shake my head at silly desires and get back to killing time.....

Anticipation better then realization.

Grocery shopping and family time in the city is long over....

God is good; we continue to get hungry and are eating away at the stocked cupboards....

I eagerly anticipate July 24th when we get to do it all over again!

Time Marches On....

It’s Friday and I am thrilled. I am counting down the minutes until work is over. 176 left and then bring on my Friday night!

If you read yesterday’s post you know there is an agenda. We are heading out of town to go grocery shopping! What else? Well supper at MacDonald’s, a bit of shopping for gifts and some school supplies at Wal-mart, let’s not forget one of those fancy, dancy drive thru car washes!!! I kid you not these are my evening’s plans and I wasn’t being sarcastic when I said I was thrilled. I have been looking forward to this for at least three days.

I bubbled inside with anticipation this morning and I reflected on days gone by. I recalled Friday mornings, what were the plans then? When I first turned 18 it was night clubs, loud music and lots of dancing that I eagerly imagined. That was quickly replaced by a local pub, nights spent chatting, laughing and singing along with a juke box. Slowly Friday nights evolved into time spent playing a board game or visiting.

Today I am excited about grocery shopping.

Is this a sign of being completely over the hill? Do I need to ponder the quality of my life? Start counting down the days because it won’t be long till it’s over?? My eighteen self might say yes to those questions. I must remember life did not begin at 18.

What did Friday nights in high school look like? Cruising the back roads, gravel pit parties and giggly sleepovers. Indeed the high school Jamie would not be impressed with plans to buy food! Let’s skip right past the junior high me – those years are a blur of self doubt, self consciousness and too much self thought!! That leads me to elementary, would tonight’s plans excite a nine year old Jamie? Yes! She would be thrilled! She would watch the big classroom clock count down the minutes. She loved grocery shopping which was always done as a family because her mom didn’t drive. She loved fast food restaurants and she loved, loved the fancy drive thru car washes!!!

Back to the original questions; am I completely over the hill, is life over as I know it?? After some deliberation I am going to say no. Rather I am getting back to the basics. Back to the simple pleasures I used to experience all the time when I didn’t need to be entertained or affirmed by a table full of friends. Today all I need is a great hubby, a super Big Sis, a delightful Little Sis and a produce aisle!!!

Just 134 minutes left to go.......

No Agenda and No Guilt

I once read a post on a blog, the author was writing about a trip and summed it up “No agenda and no guilt”

This line haunts me. I have made strides in doing what makes me and my family happy rather than others. (see Freedom Equals Flowers) Still there are many more steps between today and total freedom.

No agenda and no guilt – those words are like cool water to a parched man stranded in the centre of a hot, dry, dusty dessert. No agenda and no guilt – what would that be like????

No plan? Not doing something “productive”? That can’t be! Spontaneity will only end with nagging guilt!

If you are tempted to click away from this post, rolling your eyes at the anal author I ask that you reconsider.

I am well aware how unhealthy this line of thinking is. Aware, but still anal and I don’t even have someone to blame....

I don’t have a dominating, over bearing husband who cracks the whip and wants to be busy all the time. On the contrary at least once a week I hear, “Jamie relax, sit down.”

I never had a parent that insisted on only productivity – my mom has her own special saying, “I have two speeds slow and stop.” My mother always took good care of us, her home, her family and my dad, but she also knew how to spend an afternoon drinking coffee with an old friend, how to curl up with a good book or have a cat nap.

Most of the time I like to putter and I enjoy taking care of my family, my home and my yard. I experience those heaven sent moments as I pack a neat little lunch, pull a weed, or scrub a floor – when I think I was born to do this and God smiles.... Sad as that might sound to some, it is true. I believe I was intended to take care of Hubby, Big Sis and Little Sis.

Then there are times when I want / need to sit and drink coffee all afternoon, or nap, or tub, or (gasp!) watch television.... I always have guilt. I feel I have to justify having no plan. Like a dieter who eats a strawberry sundae, but appeases themselves by running two extra miles. The problem is for this to work you have to put in those two extra miles..... this takes tasks you enjoyed and twists them into chores you dread......

So the vicious cycle begins – chores make you want down time, down time turns tasks to chores....... Is there any wonder why a line like “No agenda and no guilt” would seem like a beacon?

Hope is not lost; I have experienced tastes of freedom – tastes of satisfaction doing things my way and not everyone else’s way. I am 28 and I have learned some things as time goes on I will learn some more and that can only lead to more freedom.....

Acknowledge & Release

Life is full of days that float by, measured with clocks, calendars, holidays and seasons. Some begin full of anticipation, a joyous occasion finally arrives. Others start with worry and fret a dreaded event rolls around to be faced. Most carry no extremes, no great expectancy or serious trepidation, just a ho hum bundle of emotions.

When looking at ordinary days what sets apart a good day from a bad day? Sometimes the answer is clear, a fight with a spouse, a vehicle break down, an unexpected gift or bit of great news.

Do bad events always equal a bad day? Who determines what a bad event is? Does a day ever go by without some sort of less than perfect event? Some days are more rosy then others, but is any day really perfect? How many perfect days would there be if every detail and all the minutes were dissected?

Fortunately we don’t dissect every second that ticks by; in fact many minutes float by hardly noticed. Time is often spent in places other than the current moment, possibly in the past thinking about events gone by or in the future pondering such things as what to have for dinner.

If events aren’t always what qualifies a good day then why do some ordinary days wind up in the “good” category while others are slotted on the “bad” side?
In my life the answer at least partially likes with the acknowledgement to my maker that today is too big for me, that I need Him today.

Some mornings I wake feeling blah, tired of the ho hum normal routine of everyday life. I envy my friends, family, neighbours; the grass looks much greener. I drag myself out of bed and into the shower and I dread the day before me. Too often I carry this all day long which consistently leads to the day being summed up as bad or “off”.

Then there are some glorious mornings when I wake feeling down and I am reminded to acknowledge that today is too much, that it feels like a weight that I cannot possibly pick up I ask Him to do it for me, I trust that He can and I receive an amazing gift.

Instantly my world changes, not because I do anything, not because I spend time conjuring, my world changes because it is no longer me looking at it, but my Saviour who dwells in me. I am looking at it all through His eyes.

If I base my future on past patterns I can expect that this miracle will change me for the better. Days will pass and I will remember why I experience “off” days. I will know it all relates to me trying to do them myself and I will easily and readily give up the next few days to Him. Sadly after an undetermined amount of time I will become complacent I will forget what the weight of a dreaded, ho hum, ordinary day feels like and I will forget that I have nothing to do with how my world looks or feels and I will quit acknowledging and slowly will take back my moments. I will deal with things in my own strength bit by bit and with each bit I will become more and more undone..... Until I am faced with a day that is too much to handle and once again I will acknowledge and release.

Many months ago I heard a beautiful analogy.

A homeless man eats from a dumpster behind a five star restaurant three times a day, every day. Eventually the owner takes compassion on this man down on his luck and he offers a permanently reserved table in his fine restaurant. He explains that this table is forever his and all he has to do is sit down whenever hunger hits him; he can order anything he wants at no charge. The restaurant owner assures him there is no limit to this offer, prices or quantity are not to be thought about, simply all the homeless man has to do is to come, sit and enjoy forevermore. The destitute man is overcome with joy and gratitude; he takes the owners hand, climbs from the stinky dumpster and begins to make his way to the front of the wonderful restaurant. Suddenly he stops and he looks at the owner, thanks him and then quietly clears his throat looks back at the filthy, rat invested garbage bin and asks if from time to time it might still be okay if he were to eat from the dumpster.

Too often I am that homeless man......

An New Way of Looking At Things

An unofficial, official announcement – the home we love is unofficially no longer for sale. Round and round we went looking at a zillion houses, preparing our place to be shown to wind up right where we started, only a little more blessed and a lot more appreciative.

This decision brings much peace. Previous uneasiness was mistakenly attributed to a lifelong aversion to change; now it is clear that the good Lord was yelling at us to stop!

Gratitude overflows from me, for His persistence that despite blind, stubborn forging He continued to tell us what was right. Also that this whole process was used for glorious good, an extra flavour has been added to our home, by considering so many different options and still choosing to stay. If nails and wood could exhibit emotion I imagine our home swelling with pride, a sigh of relief, “You like me! You really like me!!”

The gratitude river pours past our four walls and family, up the street to a pair of incredible people, our realtors and fast becoming friends! A discussion of our options two days ago, questions about contracts and penalties, lead to one inevitable answer, yes there was a penalty for stepping away, of course there was, I didn’t expect less. This couple has bent over backwards, taking us from town to town, showing us house after house, advertising our home, walking people through it, trying their best to dismiss the down sides and highlight the positives, sweat, money and precious time have been poured our way and all for nothing. A penalty only made logical sense, and as far as I was concerned we deserved whatever we had coming. A smile spread across the husband’s face and he informed me of the penalty; a dozen homemade buns, which I just happened to have rising as we spoke. All that is left is to bring the buns up the street and officially take our house off the market. Gratitude I cannot possibly express fills me, I will continually try to show it by recommending this couple to anyone who cares to listen. (www.linview.ca)

All is well, all is status quo. I have settled in at my new job. Hubby likes his promotion and extra responsibilities at work. We are not moving, but are back to saving pennies for exciting things like drywall and closet doors! I can breathe and enjoy this new / old normal.... I can smile and give thanks for our home full of your everyday blessed so and so’s!!!

Here's Johnny!!!

Three icons have died Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. All three make me sad.

Ed: When I heard this it tugged a bit at my heart strings, I just thought it was the end of an era. Of course my memories of the tonight show barely include Johnny or Ed I am of the Jay and Kevin generation, but still. When an icon like that passes I guess it makes you think of the passing of time and how life moves on, never to be regained.

Farrah: This news made me much sadder than I would have anticipated, had I ever taken the time to anticpate such a thing. When I think of Farrah the first thing I picture is the famous pin up poster, she is so young and has such a huge smile, she looks so fresh and so alive and so full of hope. I wonder what her reaction would have been had I been there when she walked away from the photo shoot. I wonder if she would have believed that one of the pictures snapped would be the all time best selling poster ever and would sky rocket her to stardom. That one single pose could and would make her immortal in many ways. What would she have said if I had told her that picture would be put in an elite class right next to the famous Marilyn seven year itch, skirt billowing shot??? I picture telling her all this with breathless excitement and then my mood changing as I tried to sum up a short 62 years on this earth. Broken marriage, failed relationship, son in jail, family members dying of cancer, herself suffering with the terrible disease and finally her premature death? I know she wouldn’t take me seriously but what if she did? Would she do things differently? It made me think of myself and my own life. Where will I be at 62? What is in store for me? Do I want to know? I hope when the day comes it doesn’t seem as sad as Farrah’s.... I know I am speaking out of turn here since I don’t actually know Farrah Fawcett and maybe my perception isn’t correct and perhaps she was very happy. Let’s call this poetic license for a moment and say that my perception is dead on, that she was a sad beauty taken far to early....

Michael: I didn’t believe this one at first... not Michael on the same day as Farrah??? This made me very sad. Sadder than the others. Perhaps because Michael was not before my time, perhaps because although I was on the tail end of the craze (born in 1980) I was still able to jump in there in time to be in love before he went strange. I remember wanting A “Bad” poster sooooo much that I would have done anything. I remember my parents who loved me sooooo much they looked and looked trying to find a place that hadn’t sold out. I remember my dad hiding the rolled up poster by his chair and how excited I was when he presented it to me. I remember watching the video thriller over and over and over and dancing to my cassette tape on my first ghetto blaster. I suppose when an icon from your own childhood dies you partly take it as a sign that maybe your childhood really is far behind you? I mean I know I am very close to 30 and being 8 or 9 is long, long gone, but it doesn’t always feel long gone. Sometimes it seems like only yesterday. Not today though, today it seems way in the past. I think the other part to this death is that Michael’s life was sad, right from childhood. I know he did some awful things and I don’t condone or accept them. Nothing justifies any of that stuff. I don’t admire Michael for who he became or even for what he was, but I ponder what would his life have been like if a different path had been chosen? I also wonder how many changes he would have made if someone had been there to grab him as he danced across a stage belting out ABC, a super cute kid with such a bright future, and told him just how dark the years ahead would be. If someone would have been able to say look all hope is going to be dashed out when you are a young 50...... do something now, change it now! Would he have listened? I doubt it....

I do pray that the families involved have some peace about all this, that they are okay. I also hope that those linked to the McMahon’s and Fawcett’s stop to thank Michael for passing when he did I am sure it will be a HUGE factor in letting them mourn in peace without tonnes of attention!