Walk Away Kel

I nearly pissed myself laughing last night. I’ve started listening to Podcasts while I have dinner. It helps to kill two birds with one stone. First, it keeps me from popping in a DVD and mindlessly vegging in front of the TV for two hours while I eat. Eating at the table in the dining room keeps me focused. And two, I get to actually listen to all these great Podcasts I subscribe to on iTunes without making me feel like I’m wasting time and being unproductive. I subscribe to about a half dozen, including about three from CBC Radio about books, authors, and writing, one from CBC Televison, YouTube, Tom Green (yeah, I can’t help myself), but my absolute favourite is Smodcast with Kevin Smith and Scott Mosier. If you have never listened to this, you just have to, I dare you not to laugh. Yesterday’s episode had a special guest host with Kevin Smith because Scott Mosier’s dog died (so sad đŸ˜¦ I feel for him) and was taped on the east coast in Jersey because Kevin was on the road. They spent the whole hour pretty much talking about this gigantic flea market they went to. I snorted water up my nose a couple of times. They should issue a “Warning: Not to be consumed when consuming anything else” label on that. It’s some freaking crazy stuff. Anyway, I’m NOT going to tell you anything about it, other than you need to look that stuff up and give it a listen.

Walk weekend is rapidly approaching. I think it’s going to be a good experience. I’m looking forward to going to Moncton and spending some time with the kids. I’m not looking forward to trying to eat healthy and balanced while living in a hotel on a Mountain Road . . . but we’ll see how I do with that. Hopefully, I’ll find alternatives and not end up feeling crappy and lackluster. There are nearly 700 calories in a small peanut butter cup Blizzard. Think about that. I’ve much work to accomplish before I can mentally be prepared to leave for the weekend. But I’m working away at it diligently. Consistency is my new favourite word. Yesterday I cracked 2,000 words on a story, a personal record for me. That’s one story. THE story. That doesn’t include all the other crap I write on a daily basis. I never count any of that stuff. I never count this blog. I should though. Because sometimes I blog good stuff. Not today, perhaps. But sometimes. But when I think about the act of committing anywhere from 1,000-2,000 focused words per day, EVERY day, consistently . . . the possibilities blow my mind. Maybe there’s hope of me evolving into a “real” writer yet. I’m certainly evolving. I hardly recognize myself in the mirror when I look into it at 6:05 every morning and say, “Hello inner voice! The day is mine!” Yeah, right out loud. And I don’t care who hears. And at that quiet time of the morning if anyone’s listening, they will hear. But I don’t care how crazy it might seem to be talking to myself out loud in the mirror, because dammit if this motivational stuff isn’t working. It’s starting to take. Stuff is happening!

Mood: driven
Drinking: water, coffee, luke warm and black
Listening To: nothing yet, but I’m about to put on a little Tragically Hip
Hair: damp from this morning’s shower still

No Worries

“Worrying does not empty tomorrow of its troubles . . . it empties today of its strength.” – Aunt Linda, as quoted by Jennifer Cribbs, SparkPeople community member

Truer words were never spoken. Everyone has worry from time to time I guess. A big thing for me has been making myself conscious of my worry and talking myself off the ledge for the silly little things. I still worry about the big stuff, when it happens. You know, family illness and things. I try never to worry about things I have no control over. I try not to worry about every little thing that happens. I used to be a pretty intense worrier back in the day. But I have MUCH too vivid an imagination! I can always create the worse things in my mind, if I allow it to happen. I had to teach myself to be conscious of my worry. I had to practice talking myself out of it. Every now and again a situation will come up where no amount of positive logical self-talk alleviates my worry, but I’m happy to say they are fewer and more far between. Practice really does help. Even if it feels unnatural in the beginning.

Little thundershower last night. Nothing major. Yes, I really do have an excellent view. Not that I really want one. I closed the curtains for most of this one. Though not before I saw some pretty wicked chains coming out of the sky. Afterward there was the most beautiful rainbow ever! It arced over the length of the river from Nelson Miramichi down to Douglastown. It felt like I could reach out and touch it. Gorgeous! Well worth putting up with a little lightning.

Mood: up and at ’em
Drinking: coffee, fresh ground, with skim, and the prerequisite glass of water
Listening To: rehab, amy winehouse
Hair: puzzling

Living with Purpose II

Mood: sleepy and wondering what to have for dinner
Drinking: lots and lots of water
Listening To: someone outside talking
Hair: washed this morn

1000 Actions Challenge

An interesting thing happened this evening. I decided to sign up to take a 1000 Actions Challenge on a Message Board I’m part of. The concept is that procrastination is a result of inaction, therefore there can be no procrastination in action only inaction. To reach big goals it’s less overwhelming if you break the process down into smaller action steps to get there. So, anyway, there’s this challenge to do a thousand actions and I wanted to join. So I went to look for a notebook that I could keep track of my actions, posting them at the end of every day on the message board. Like today for example will look something like:

1. Joined the challenge.
2. Drank 10 glasses of water.
3. Ate breakfast.
4. Did my dishes.
5. Ate supper at the table.
6. Read for pleasure for 30 minutes.

And anything else I’ve done today that is an action step toward me becoming the balanced person I want to be. Ok, so I went looking for a notebook to track this thing in. The chances of finding a brand new one would be slim, but I thought I could find one that wasn’t too full of insanity. Into the spare room and into some boxes I dove, discovering many notebooks with lists, and schedules, and interview notes, and story ideas, and plot outlines, and tarot readings, and journal entries, and drafts of letters, and doodlings, and much more . . . I spied a small yellow spiral notebook and flipped it open to find lots and lots of my neat printing, the kind I do when I’m taking serious notes I want to be able to decipher forever or even pass on to someone else to read, pages and pages and pages of the trying super hard to be neat blue ink. This was unusual for a couple of reasons. First it was the only thing in the book. There was no other scribbling or doodling or messy in the heat of the moment passionate notes to myself. And second, it went on for about half the notebook, or 100 pages! That’s a long time for me to be focused and neat. What could I possibly have been so fixated on? And when did this happen?

I started reading. Stuff about stopping the guilt, loving yourself, writing letters to the universe, candle rituals, prayers for your health and healing, visualization techniques, cutting negative people out of your life, and many different daily affirmations and prayers. It ends with instructions on how to do a candle prayer– “For nine nights, at precisely 9:00, light a candle and repeat: I am a blessed child of God. I am well. I am happy. Great abundance is on its way because, as God’s child, I am empowered to create miracles.”

And then I have my notes from the nights I did this prayer Feb 9-17, 2000. The notes are very specific, who I included in my prayers and what I was praying for them. Some excerpts:

Wed Feb 9/00 — my brother, shield from negativity
Feb 10/00 — Dad, to find his spirit; Me, patience
Feb 11/00 — Me, patience, patience, patience, shield from negativity
Feb 12/00 — my uncle, to pass to the other side
Feb 13/00 — my ex-boyfriend to find acceptance & happiness
Feb 14/00 — relief for all the people suffering on this earth
Feb 15/00 — Me, get on the path, do better
Feb 16/00 — Me, strength to fight the negative forces around me, patience, courage to live my life with joy and harmony and peace
Feb 17/00 — Me, patience

I prayed for a lot of people. I prayed for friends and enemies and people I hadn’t seen or heard tell of in many, many years. The lists are really long, and I didn’t want to put it all out here. I remember this time in my life really well. This is when I first started to change my life. This is when I looked at how I was living and said I didn’t want to continue the old patterns anymore and that I would break out of the mold and make changes. This is when I made the pact to myself that I would not move right into another relationship like I’d always done, but instead I’d take some time to be alone (which I’d never been since I was 14) and work on myself and my issues. Seven years ago!! And I haven’t had a relationship since. Dates, but no boyfriend. Wow!

It’s interesting now to read my prayers and to realize how very far I’ve come. I have patience now! Seven years worth! LOL! I have joy in my life like I’d never known at that time. I enjoy spending time with myself and understand that nobody else can complete me, I’m complete in myself. I know that I cannot control other people’s actions only my reaction to them, and that people reveal themselves in the things they do, not by what they say. I have come such a very long way from the mixed up chaos and madness of that time.

So today I’m starting the 1000 Actions Challenge to help me with wellness and balance in my life. And I’m using my best handwriting and continuing right after those prayers from seven years ago. Because this is the right notebook for this journey.

Mood: inspired
Drinking: red wine
Listening To: trains, planes and automobiles
Hair: still unwashed

Sunday, Sunday Here Again a Walk in the Park

And here we are again–Sunday! My favourite day of the week. A bit chilly this morning because I slept with my window open and temperatures dropped overnight. I plugged in the tv last night for the first time since last Sunday, so I could just roll over at 7:30 this morning and snap on Coronation Street.

Some people think my Corrie obsession is a bit odd, but I say, don’t knock it until you’ve given it a go. There are reasons why it’s the most popular soap throughout the world. It’s fun! I love the humour. And I also like how story lines unfold quickly, not like the American soaps where you can tune in only once every few years and still find everyone facing the same problems they were the last time you tuned in. And there are no evil enemies with supernatural powers to be overcome. The antagonists are just regular everyday bitches and scoundrels–womanizers, liars, cheaters, wife beaters, manipulators, thieves, murderers, etc. It’s all very ordinary. Yes, you wish someone would finally slap that smug look off Charlie’s face because he is a bastard, and you’ve met many like him in your travels about the world. And when he finally gets his (and he will) you can trust that he won’t be coming back from the dead in some sort of miracle surgery that nobody in the real world has ever heard tell of.

Anyway, with the Stanley Cup almost claimed, the Street will move back to its regular Mon-Fri evening time slot at 7pm and my Sunday mornings will no longer be filled with a full week’s worth of episodes. I’m kind of considering not returning to my regular evening schedule and keeping the Sunday morning ritual instead, but then if I miss a Sunday morning because I’m away, I will miss a whole week of episodes . . . and if you miss a whole week of Coronation Street, you miss a lot of stuff! A lot can happen in a week on the Street.

I seem to be developing a bit of an obsession for all things British these days–music, movies, tv shows, books. One day I will cross the pond and visit, fill my boots!

And now a gorgeous Sunday afternoon beckons. Jumbo jets heading west fill the sky. Pleasure boaters cruise past on the river. Somewhere somebody mows their lawn. The puppy next door barks at kids playing basketball and boomerangs. I need to eat lunch before I lose the afternoon and find myself at dinner.

Mood: peaceful
Drinking: water, water, water, 20 oz at a time
Listening To: life beyond the screens of my windows
Hair: needing colour

Living with Purpose

Mood: motivated
Drinking: water & coffee . . . and Hardy’s red later!!
Listening To: birds chirping!
Hair: still pulled back, but soon to be laundered

Foundation

Thursday night, every thing’s fine, except you’ve got that look in your eye
when I’m tellin’ a story and you find it boring,
you’re thinking of something to say.
You’ll go along with it then drop it and humiliate me infront of our friends.

Then I’ll use that voice that you find annoyin’ and say something like
“yeah, intelligent input, darlin’, why don’t you just have another beer then?”

Then you’ll call me a bitch
and everyone we’re with will be embarrassed,
and i wont give a shit.

My finger tips are holding onto the cracks in our foundation,
and i know that i should let go,
but i can’t.
And every time we fight i know it’s not right,
every time that you’re upset and i smile.
i know i should forget, but i can’t.

You said I must eat so many lemons
’cause i am so bitter.
I said
“I’d rather be with your friends mate ’cause they are much fitter.”

Yes, it was childish and you got aggressive,
and i must admit that i was a bit scared,
but it gives me thrills to wind you up.

My finger tips are holding onto the cracks in our foundation,
and i know that i should let go,
but i can’t.
And every time we fight i know it’s not right,
every time that you’re upset and i smile.
i know i should forget, but i can’t.

Your face is pasty ’cause you’ve gone and got so wasted, what a surprise.
Don’t want to look at your face ’cause it’s makin’ me sick.
You’ve gone and got sick on my trainers,
I only got these yesterday.
Oh, my gosh, i cannot be bothered with this.

Well, I’ll leave you there ’till the mornin’,
and i purposely wont turn the heating on
and dear God, i hope I’m not stuck with this one.

My finger tips are holding onto the cracks in our foundation,
and i know that i should let go,
but i can’t.
And every time we fight i know it’s not right,
every time that you’re upset and i smile.
i know i should forget, but i can’t.

— Foundation, Kate Nash

I love, love, love her! And you should too.

Mood: loving her
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: kate nash
Hair: a bit stringy