Tag: Life

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Life

Working Through the Brain Sludge

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I’ve been at this writing thing for quite some time. I used to scribble stories in journals when I was younger. I’d write down my feelings and day-to-day happenings in my diary, something that wasn’t always as fun as telling stories. Maybe that’s why I got bored of the regular lifestyle blogging that pulls so many in. I don’t care about the day-to-day activities or hashing about it all every. single. day. I love stories.

But, what happens when your brain suddenly turns off and it’s impossible to tell any type of story? It’s been weeks since I’ve posted on here, mainly due to sickness just before Christmas and then the excitement of the holidays. Though ours weren’t particularly packed with plans, I felt content with the few things we had on our calendar and the rest of time was taken up with relaxing, family outings, and cleaning.

Eventually, my basement will be clean and more useable. Maybe even cute and not filled with stacks of crap everywhere. Eventually.

But, as my English professor used to say after every 10 minutes…I digress.

The start of the fall had me feeling on top of the world. I had got going on this blog, hoping to reach a few people, maybe – eventually – make a little bit of money from it. I started a business with my pal, Sarah, doing editing and writing projects (psst it’s juniperandoakediting.ca if you want to check it out). I added two more books to my name on Amazon, bringing the Baby Paris series to a close, but ready to create more travel kid’s books.

It was all feeling great. I had the motivation. I, somehow, had the time. And then….

Well, it all kind of took a turn. I couldn’t seem to think of anything to say. Everything sounded forced and stupid and just…not right. Luckily, I had an arsenal of posts already written and at the ready to go live. But, I was feeling incomplete. I had no more outlet for my creative feelings, feelings that were still living inside of me, but were being tamped down with so many other things.

Social media scrolling. Toddler shenanigans. Sickness. Busyness cleaning. TV watching. Imposter Syndrome.

My mind was constantly running. Even at the gym, I started playing mahjong on the elliptical instead of mindlessly staring out the window. I stopped listening to music at the gym, stopped reading books while on the bike. I wanted to just take a minute to free my brain, but somewhere in all the messiness that is life I couldn’t let it happen.

I used to meditate before bed. I would meditate in the evening or the morning, sometimes sitting on the dock of my pond before I went to work. I haven’t even tried to get back into that rhythm. Though it would look very different with a toddler about, and I could probably only get a good meditation in before bed, I didn’t even try. I had been in survival mode since my daughter was born and kind of didn’t think to get out of it.

Though I haven’t felt the need to go to bed at 7pm just so I could get more sleep, or take multiple naps during the day, or feel so touched out that I just sit and stare at a wall for 10 minutes every night, I still wasn’t doing what I wanted. Or, rather, doing things that matter to me. Because I’ve been doing what I wanted: watching TV, seeing friends every so often, scrolling, making travel plans. And, doing things that I thought I should do: cleaning the house, working as much as I could to get a business off the ground, posting here, but not really feeling it the last month.

I’ve been doing things, but just nothing that truly matters. And, it’s been affecting my brain. How I’ve been feeling.

I sort of made some New Years’ resolutions, even though I don’t really like them. I think it’s better to make changes to your life when you need it, rather than a list of things you think you should be doing just because the clock has struck midnight on the previous year. My resolutions are less list-y and nothing is centered around weight loss (such a population resolution), they’re more of things I’m going to continue working on in my life.

I’m going to just go for it all. I’ve been stuck in Imposter Syndrome for a long, long time. I was worried that I wasn’t as cool as other bloggers out there when I was working on The LT Edit and I didn’t go hard enough on it. I haven’t hit my writing goals because I’m afraid that if I’ll fail. I struggled with starting my business because I was worried it would fail.

What silly thoughts that kept me from achieving success. This blog isn’t the same as my previous lifestyle one, but maybe it’ll morph into something different over time. Right now, it’s for me to tell stories, and for people to (hopefully!) enjoy them. I’m not going to worry about sounding silly, or whether or not I’m cool enough to blog. I’m just going to do it.

I’m going to go for my writing goals. Work on it and just do it. I was worried my business would fail, and while we’re not making millions, we’re just starting out with lots of room to grow. I was worried about publishing a children’s book, but every time someone buys it I get excited. We definitely haven’t hit any high sales, but I did it. I have an author page on Amazon and GoodReads and that’s pretty fucking cool.

I’m going to be more chill about things and try to worry less. Last year saw a lot of growth in my therapy for OCD. I want to continue to work on that and become less anxious. It’ll be what it’ll be.

And, lastly…

I want to be myself, again. Motherhood is hard and you end up losing yourself along the way. While I’ll never be the same person I was two years ago, I can do the things that I enjoy. Which means a trip to Paris with friends, no husband or child (something I’ve excited and nervous for!). It means making cute outfits just for the grocery store. It means indulging in things I used to love (like ordering a FabFitFun box, again. I stopped because products contained palm oil, but it looks like they’ve moved to cleaner products. We will see how it goes). It means working out, going outside more, gardening, and meditating.

We need to let our minds wander a bit as creative souls. Being so ‘ON’ all the time is exhausting. If we don’t get bored every so often, or quiet our thoughts down, how are we going to pick out the good ones?

So, I’m going to focus on letting my mind wander. I’m going to do things just because they bring me unfettered joy. I’m going to post things and not worry about if it’s rambling or stupid or if anyone will read it. Because it feels right. Hopefully, something exciting comes out of it all. And, if not, at least I’ll be beyond happy.

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migraine life Mom Life

Stress, Self-Care, and Finding a Way out of the Storm

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I wrote most of this a few years ago, and man, did SO much happen since. Lots of great stuff, then a pandemic changing everything, pregnancy, my now 2 year old daughter. I can pin-point what was happening that made me write this, but it also holds true for times during the pandemic AND into motherhood. The idea that there isn’t enough time to do anything, and the world feels like it’s crumbling is something most of us have become accustomed to. Anyways, here’s my old take on a different type of self-care routine, and how it looks very similar to my self-care routine as a busy mom.

I’m a big believer in Self-Care. Most of what you see on your feed and magazines is all about masks and bubble baths and going to get your nails done, but that’s not the type of self-care I’m talking about. Yes, those all help if that’s your jam (and you can afford the extras), but it’s not the self-care that hits home for me. My self-care includes those things, but a little more, like acupressure mats, nature, meditation, and therapy.

The stress of trying to do everything all at once is crushing us. Pursuing our dreams, working a 9-5 if our dreams have not yet been realized, being the best partner, being the best friend, being the best parent, being the best mentally and physically. PLUS keep a work-life balance AND look good on Instagram? Impossible. Where do we fit in the time for self-care if we’re doing so much to achieve all of the above? Where do we fit in the time to just sit and stare at a TV and decompress?

As a migraine sufferer and someone with extremely high anxiety, I am all for self-care. I think it’s wonderful to sit down at the end of the day with a face mask and read before bed, giving myself that extra time to do what I love instead of chores or work (even if that work is my passion). It’s amazing to take a meditation session on the dock on my pond, listening to the birds chirp and the grasses and leaves blow in the breeze. That’s my self-care. I use it as a preventative ‘medicine’ coupled with my real medicine to keep my migraines at bay and myself sane.

A lot of people take self-care a little too seriously and a little too far (see: calling into work ‘sick’ or bailing on friends because you’re feeling a little stressed and ‘deserve’ a spa day). We’ve gone from having a hard time saying no to anything to thinking we need to say no to everything. At least, that’s the consensus on Instagram posts.

Feeling like we’re having to do absolutely seemingly has caused us to burn the fuck out and backtrack. But, in order to get back on track we’ve begun to think that we need entire days, weekends, weeks, of doing all of these amazingly blissful things. Obviously caught on camera, because then it doesn’t count.

But, here’s the thing: you can get through it. Without the full spa days and the binge-watching or the numerous yoga sessions. Are they amazing? Yes. Has a festival changed my entire life after putting things into perspective and allowing me to just breathe? Also, yes. But, we can’t be heading off to festivals every single weekend, or month. At least, I sure as hell can’t.

These last two months have been horrible and amazing. So many great things happened, so many things to celebrate and be happy for. An equal amount of terrible things have happened that made our lives busier, more stressful, and shook us. I’m penning this post the day after the storm has ended. There’s still a straggler stressing me out, causing me grief, but the busy schedule and the don’t-stop-keep-going is over.

Guys, I didn’t think I’d make it. Not in a suicidal sense, but in a sense that my body and mind was about to give up and I’d have a nervous break-down. It was too much to handle and one thing after the other kept piling up (much like my laundry and my kitchen table during these last two months). I had written in my notebook at work, usually kept to make lists of things to do that day, that I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep going. I was starting to break, but I couldn’t show it because there was too much going on, both wonderful and horrible, that I needed to make it through, enjoying what I could.

Looking at the words today, I’m surprised by how broken I had felt. I don’t feel that way anymore; I feel as if I can take on the next big issue and work through it without falling to pieces over something as simple as an e-mail (which had happened in the last couple months). I definitely know that all of that stress wasn’t healthy for me, that some of the food choices I made in the quick minute I had weren’t the best, that skipping a de-stressing routine wasn’t doing me any favours. And, of course, that only added to my stress.

So, where does self-care come in through all of this? It does, and it doesn’t. I didn’t do as much yoga (really, barely any), I didn’t meditate as much as I should have, I didn’t spend mornings or evenings reading on the deck, enjoying those beautiful sunsets I love so much. But, I did sneak in 5-10 minutes on the dock, just listening to nature and letting my feelings be heard and start to work themselves out, unraveling the little balls of stress my brain was storing.

I stretched out my neck and did a sun salutation or two, resulting in a 3 minute yoga session. Not 30 minutes or an hour, like normal. I put on a face mask and read for 30 minutes before bed at the start of my most hectic weekend, carving out just that small amount of time specifically for a minute of solitude and comfort. I wrote down my stress and my feelings while at work to keep myself going. It wasn’t the ‘normal’ self-care that everyone talks about.

The hours, or days, that I must take to self-actualize and regenerate. It was 2 minutes here, 5 minutes there, 30 seconds on some days. It was catching my breath to ensure that I could keep working on the tasks at hand. It was the idea that, eventually, everything would right itself – it had to – and that the little stresses barely registered. I used what little time I had to sneak in sessions to just breathe and right my brain.

While the stress and schedule isn’t feasible in the long term, I now know that I can get through insanely busy and stressful times by sneaking in time for myself, even if it’s not as long as it normally is. And, because I finally have one, an extra session with my therapist. The ultimate self-care.

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Life

Before you Reach for Those Greener Pastures, Make Sure They’re Actually Greener

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There’s been a sudden shift in the way people are viewing housing and lifestyles. We seem to be either going completely urban, easy to walk to everything, no need for a car, tons of nightlife, or we go the complete opposite and leave for bigger skies. A mad exodus from clogged up cities for small town living and country skies. You know, living the simple life. Which Paris and Nicole taught us isn’t so simple.

For me, it has been that simple. I love it. I love that people are waking up sleepy towns and making them thrive again, but is it actually right for them? For you?

It’s always the small town that wins over the heroine or hero in romance novels or blessedly typical Hallmark Christmas movies. The city is portrayed as the villain, the busyness of life worse than death. The picturesque towns look inviting and like it would win you over thousands of followers on Instagram in seconds, but there is a reason why people leave them for the city.

Living outside of the city comes with way less of those conveniences city life will have you accustomed to. It means no delivery, no app ordering, limited internet (until Elon Musk changes it all), and quiet — very quiet — nights.

For some, this sounds like a blissful oasis that they get to call their home. I’m that some. But, it was a huge adjustment to go from just picking up a little something on the way home to realizing that there arne’t too many options close by and I have to — gasp! — actually eat what’s in my fridge.

Country living, or even suburban living, isn’t for everyone. It takes a while to get home, there’s a lot less to do right around the corner. The lots are bigger, which means yay the lots are bigger! But, also means boo that’s more work.

No, buses dont run through (but they really should).

No, you won’t have a great grocery store, or one to begin with. It also means you won’t have a fancy cheese shop, a bakery (but plenty of old ladies who will be willing to teach you how to bake!), or a nice wine store.

Yeah, there may only be one bar and only a couple of restaurants.

Yeah, it may take you 5 minutes to drive through main street of town — and that’s hitting all the lights.

If that sounds like a nightmare, why move? Small town living has been romanticized, but it’s still the same as it always was. Boring, quiet, gossip-filled. That’s not going to change, even if people leave the city in droves for an idyllic life set amongst rolling hills and grazing cattle.

If you love open spaces, tractor meet-ups and jams, and crave slow mornings without Costco parking lots, small town living may be for you.

If you don’t care about clubbing or fancy restaurants or much of entertainment than the old dive bar and maybe a movie theater, if your town is big enough, then small town living may be for you.

But, if you’re going to miss these things, miss them from your regular weekend nights (taking the pandemic out of the equation), then why move? Why leave the things that make you most happy?

Maybe, instead of moving and looking for that simpler life, why not strive to live a simpler life where you still enjoy things? You can go simple by making changes to your life inside the city. You can get back in touch with nature with a garden, even if it’s small and hanging off a balcony or a windowsill. You can learn how to bake and cook, and go ‘old school’ with your way of thinking. You can take the things you like about country living, which might be the slow living bit, and do that from where you are. Live a little simpler, live a little slower, enjoy the little things. Make your life what you want it; you can do this without uprooting your whole life. Because that may not be the best option for you.

The same goes for jobs. We keep changing and switching things up, looking for better places that fit our needs, and that’s great. We should be trying to find the right fit for ourselves, we should be paid what we deserve to be, but what if that greener grass is more of a browny green? What if it’s filled with weeds and is kind of thorny? What if it looks good on paper and seemed great when you first went in and now it’s starting to feel a bit…blah? Are you still looking for even greener grass? Are you looking for that perfect, over-use of chemical golf-course green?

We keep pushing for things to be perfect, looking for that perfect work-life balance that we aren’t thinking about how to make it happen in our own worlds. Maybe living a simpler life is best before moving you and your whole family outside of the city. Maybe staying at the same job can still work if you asked for a raise or broach the subject of working from home. Maybe it won’t. But, it’s better to try living the life you want, where you are right now, before you reach for something that you’ve romanticized into a fairytale.

Why are we always chasing better things? Are they actually better? To some, of course they are. Just like to me living outside the city is much better than living inside, for a lot of people who move outside of the city for that ‘country living’ hate it. Because it’s not like the movies, it’s not like you would expect it to be. Everything isn’t necessarily better, it’s just different, and that’s what makes it better for some and worse for others.

Better for a lot of people means more bike paths and walking paths. While others would rather have roads fixed so that their drive isn’t a bumpy mess. I guess it’s why we don’t get to decide, exactly, where our money goes when we pay taxes. I would want to pay for different things than my friends and neighbours would want to pay for and they would want to pay for different things than their friends and neighbours would want to pay for. We’d never get anything done because we would be arguing too much about it, allocating too small amounts of money to each issue.

Moving to another city may be the perfect change for you; you may have gotten a better job, you may like the vibe much more, you may have better access to community events. It could also mean it won’t be good. And, that’s okay. People’s lives look different from one another’s, people’s interests are different from one another’s. We don’t all have to be chasing greener pastures; we can just sit here and realize that we, probably, have it pretty damn good where we are.

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Life

Giving up on Gardening Means Giving up on Myself

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The last few years out in the garden have been rough. We’ve been experiencing a drought and with that comes many, many grasshoppers. I’ve had small sink holes open up in my garden from too dry dirt. I’ve had harsh rains, coming in bursts and then not again for days or weeks, spattering seeds out of their little soil homes. I’ve had those damn grasshoppers eat anything that I was feeling proud of, anything that withstood the harsh realities that is now the world.

Right now, my attention has been torn from the screen to my yard as I watch hundreds of black birds swirl around to land on the ground and eat all of the bugs that have plagued this garden for years. I am thankful for them as they munch, having a little feast. Only days before I was ready to spray my yard with every known chemical and then light it on fire just to make sure the grasshoppers would be gone.

Of course, that wouldn’t truly work. At least, not in the long run. If it did, we wouldn’t have pesticide resistant bugs out there ruining the landscape. Also, I’d kill all of the good bugs and birds and animals that I want to hang out in my yard. The ones that make an entire ecosystem and keep everything running, even the annoying ones.

Every year I’ve thought about just scrapping the garden altogether, and not worrying about such a pain in my ass. And, every year it feels like I’m losing a part of myself.

Throughout the years of gardening, I’ve become more attuned to the natural world, feeling the temperature and weather changes as my soil, my plants, and the animals react. Pressure changes have always brought about migraines for me, but now I feel connected to the world around me. I want to add more to my yard, not take things away. I want to feel even more connected every time I walk outside.

So, I’ve begun making my yard a thing of an oasis. I’m focusing on practices that actually help, both my yard, and myself. A pond for waterfowl to come play and splash around. The sound of frogs and toads singing in the night lulls me to sleep, as does the knowledge that these guys love to eat grasshoppers and will be munching away. My stress eases as I know that nature is taking care of me.

Trees, planted, carefully watered, some causing tears when they don’t make it through the winter or the hot summer months, provide shade and a place to play for myself, animals, and my daughter. I feel their giving warmth, yet coolness, in protecting us.

A meadow, trying its best, some parts flourishing, through the harsh conditions that have been dealt, giving beauty when there isn’t much to be found elsewhere. Bright blooms pop out of the dry earth when nothing else will.

I remind myself that this already exists and that animals, and insects flock here. I have two ducks I eagerly await to splash land into my pond every spring, and worry along with them when they lay their eggs, hoping they won’t get eaten by any predators. Geese love to chat in the yard, in the pond, on the roof. Owls screech or hoot in the trees. Hawks take watch, perched on hydro poles or tree tops. It’s all here, but the extras, the veggies and flowers, may need a little tweaking to bring back to the yields and harvests I’m used to. That the world is used to.

Changing my planting habits, reminds me to pivot in life. That, when something doesn’t work out a time or two, maybe it’s time to try something new. And, that’s okay. Plants are more resilient than we give them credit. While they won’t all make it in their normal habitats or planted in the same old ways, they can adapt and change and sprout when you least expect them to.

Mushrooms, those beauties that have made my body feel better, connect the entire world together. We’re only just realizing the greatness that they hold. They’ve yet to enter my garden on a permanent basis, but I can’t wait to welcome them with open arms.

While I’ve been toying with the idea of relaxing in the summer instead of worrying, stressing, and working, it won’t happen. Even as I tell myself, every fall, that I don’t need to plant as much next year, I know come January when I order seeds, I won’t be listening to that voice. I can’t. I can’t let a part of me go so easily, a part of me that grows with nature and the world around us. A part of me that grows every year as my little seeds start to sprout and take form. Because, without a garden, I’ll lose a part of myself.

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Life

Are Anniversaries Really That Important?

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I’m not 100% certain on how long my husband and I have been together. We met at a cabin party, and eventually became serious, but the specific date? No idea. There was actually a highly entertaining night where I asked him and he became flustered and nervous because he thought I’d be getting mad at him for not knowing, when in reality, it was me who couldn’t pin down the date. Maybe that was when he knew marrying me would be a good idea.

Of course, I know what our wedding anniversary is. That’s a little more concrete and more memorable than some, ‘yeah we’re together’ moment during dating. Because, dating when you’re an adult is a lot more different than those exciting days when a boy would come up to you in the schoolyard, ask you to go out and then never speak to you again. I mean, I distinctly remember the beginning of mine and Marc’s great romance in 8th grade, but my now-husband? Who knows.

Recently, our first anniversary went by. Excited to eat the top of our wedding cake we had saved for the occassion and an expensive champagne I couldn’t drink at our wedding, I planned, and I use that word loosely, an anniversary day/evening: champagne, cake and Chinese food. That was as far as the planning went. Unfortunately, a storm ripped through our city and surrounding areas and my husband was called away to work for a full week. He came home just before midnight the day before we were to leave on a trip to Australia, exhausted and worn-down, so we boarded the plane the next morning and continued on living our lives. We never did get to celebrate our 1st anniversary together. At least, not until a month later where we just ate the cake and drank the champagne near-randomly during one Sunday afternoon, no fancy dinner (or take-out) planned. More of a ‘let’s just eat this before I eat it on you’ kind of day.

Instead of being crestfallen about missing our first anniversary, I shrugged and had a day eating whatever I wanted and watching whatever I wanted. It was a pretty good day, I must say. Yes, I was disappointed that we couldn’t do anything and celebrate such a ‘milestone’ (if you can’t make it one year, then why’d you get married in the first place?), and doubly disappointed that I couldn’t eat or drink the deliciousness I had planned on ordering, but I found myself not really caring that we missed the specific day. We jokingly said ‘happy anniversary’ when I made coffee for him, bleary-eyed at an ungodly hour before he went off to work an ungodly amount of hours, knowing I wouldn’t see him until I was already in the throes of delightful sleep that night.

Because, what is one simple day? Nothing. It’s a day that worked out in planning your wedding, it’s a day that cemented your relationship, taking it from casual to serious. It’s nothing more than a day.

Now, the 25th and 50th wedding anniversaries are something to be celebrated. You’ve made it a long time with someone without divorcing or killing them and that’s definitely a cause for a party. Instead of celebrating a day, you’re celebrating many, many happy (and some maybe not so happy) years of marriage. That kind of anniversary logic I can whole-heartedly get behind.

The anniversaries in between? Not so much. I have a friend who celebrates when they started dating and when they got married. Two different days. One celebrates in months and half-years, much like a first-time mother celebrates every month since her child has been born. While cute and incredibly nauseating each of those scenarios are, do they really truly matter? Do the smaller anniversaries matter as much as the bigger ones? Does it matter if you’re already loving each other and living and appreciating one another, not necessarily every day, but for most days of the year? Is it really that important to shout from the rooftops that this is your one true love, but only to be shouted once a year?

My answer is no. It’s not. Especially that last part. Social media doesn’t need a long-winded paragraph on how you and your one and only spent your anniversary. A nice picture will do. Let me like it quickly and scroll by without rolling my eyes.

If you’re celebrating every day like it’s your anniversary, then why go all out wonderfully and exuberently on just one day of the year, buying gifts and expensive wines and dinner? If you haven’t already guessed, my feelings on Valentine’s Day are pretty similar. Again, some yummy food and baked goods are all I really need.

To me, spending money on anniversary presents seems silly and not the best way to use your money. And, I use the term ‘your’ as in your money that you share. Are expensive anniversary presents really that important in the long (or short, depending how you see things) scheme of life? If you can afford to buy an expensive present for your anniversary, chances are you can afford to buy it, just because. And, when your money is all tied up together, then does it matter from whom it’s being given? Stay in, turn down the lights and enjoy that present a whole lot more than you would a pair of earrings or a watch.

My seemingly cynical point is this: there’s no need to go all out on an expensive hotel room or dinner or champagne just because it’s your anniversary. Do these things because you want to do these things for fun, that you would do them because it’s a Tuesday or a long-weekend, as well as your anniversary. Do it because these are the types of things you both like. If neither of you enjoy fancy dinners, then why waste the money, time and awkward car-ride and dinner conversation?

For us, we like ordering take-out (something we rarely do, even in this age of UberEats and Skip the Dishes) and sitting on the couch in PJ’s or sweats and enjoying each other’s company. Much like we do nearly every night together. While I enjoy an expensive bottle of champagne and even spendier restaurants, my husband hates them with a passion. He feels awkward and out of place and I would rather enjoy that with someone who will have a good time, like my girlfriends, than someone who is going to feel uncomfortable the whole evening.

Spend time with one another as you normally would, as you normally do. Use your anniversary to celebrate you and the things you both enjoy, but don’t feel pressured to go all out or even feel guilty if you both wake up forgetting what day it is. It’s just a day, anyways.