Everything Connects
Maybe it's because Canadians are wonderful.
Maybe I'm just lucky to have been blessed with an extraordinary tribe.
Maybe... Just maybe... Everything connects.
Deplorable Chore
Caring for your own body *should* be paramount on most folks list, right? I mean, not to the point of extreme vanity, but good, solid general care and maintenance. Healthy hygiene habits. Moderate attention to physical well-being. Not too much to ask for, it seems.
Why, then, does it all feel like such a deplorable chore?
{re}Birth
A New Year is a genuinely beautiful thing. No matter what way you look at it, the beginning of a new yearly cycle is invigorating, whether it's a cycle based on months or seasons or some other form of marking time passage. It's a time to start new things as much as it is a time to divest yourself of the old. Of course, there's always the choice to retain the status quo, to keep things just as they are, to not move a muscle in the direction of change.
Forgetful We Can Be
It's been 26 years, but I won't forget that you said that I should tuck my shirt in because leaving it untucked, though that was the style, made me look fat.
Just Eat It
What, how and why I eat are eminently changeable. When I was young, my "diet" was carved in stone - I ate a sum total of five vegetables: corn, potatoes, carrots, celery and French-style cut green beans from a can. Oh, and the carrots and celery had to be raw. Period.
Why Resist
Often enough, I catch myself resisting something with a childish inner voice that pouts and exclaims, "I don't want to!". The household paperwork whines to be organized. The laundry mountain threatens an avalanche. The thank you notes and birthday cards wait for a short, handwritten, a stamp, and a ride to the post office. Dishes and dusting, homework and housework.
Conversation in Kind
At the park with a friend, watching our children frolic, we talk about the hard stuff. It doesn't matter if there are other parents nearby; they'll either listen and learn... Or listen and judge. But it's not their conversation unless they ask to join, so we go on about things.
In the beginning
Wow. Here it is. Post numero uno.
I've composed this post so many times... In my notebook. In my head. In Outlook and Word and OneNote and Evernote. Now that I'm here everything that wants so badly to to be spilled is causing a bottleneck and only a tiny fraction is dribbling out. Perhaps that's as it should be - my Critics are hovering around, trying to convince me that whatever I say in this first post, it will sound trite or insufficient or somehow or another "not good enough".