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Posts Tagged ‘Vinnie’

Regaining Control…ish.

Posted in Lessons Learned, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on 03/05/2021| Leave a Comment »

I have been talking to myself a lot lately. Usually when I talk to myself repeately, it means it’s time to update my blog. I just realised that I haven’t written since February. Where to start?

My little white Nissan, Melody, was hit by a snowplough. She was parked across the street as I couldn’t park in the parking lot (the snow was being cleared). The plough driver was coming around a corner and didn’t lift up the blade enough. Shattered the back windscreen, the two driver’s side windows, sheared off the drivers side mirror and gouged all along the driver’s side. I don’t believe I would have survived the accident if I’d been in my car.

At any rate, with some back and forth with the provincial insurance company and the city, I received a payout that more than covered the car loan. Excellent. For two weeks I was debt free! I then debated about whether to apply for another car loan as I had found a used car, excellent deal, online. I wasn’t sure if I wanted a car loan or a line of credit.

I have struggled with my finances most of my adult life. I couldn’t figure out why I was in my fifties and losing sleep about retirement, etc. Then I found K. Kenneth Davis, also known as “The Trans Capitalist“. He wrote an e-book, “The Money Talk” which, seriously, changed my life. It helped me understand that my ideas of financial success and freedom were outdate and were wrong for me. Check this man out. Seriously. You can find him on Instagram and Facebook.

I decided to apply for a line of credit, so I could use that once my “new-to-me” car “Hope” is paid for. It may come in handy when the time comes to buy that cargo van! I was approved for the line of credit ALL BY MYSELF, and “Hope” has come home to me. I’ve been picking up things here and there for her to make her into a micro-camper for days off and vacations. More on her in another post.

I’ve started simplifying my life. I started with my kitchen. I had too many gadgets that seemed like a fabulous idea, but were never used. I had way too many drinking glasses. I had wine glasses and I no longer drink alcohol. So they have been donated. I still have one very fancy heavy-duty wine glass that use to drink my sparkling water, when I’m feeling fancy. Most of the time I drink it straight from the Soda Stream bottle.

I’ve donated most of my shoes. I have five pairs left, three pairs of boots (one pair of winter boots, one pair of rain boots, and one pair of dressy boots. I pared down my handbags. I pared down my luggage. I continue to pare down my clothes. I took a swoop through my closet this weekend and I think I’ll be doing it again in about a month.

I read an article about a woman who wore the same dress for 100 days. At first I thought it was kind of gross, but the more of the article I read, I began to understand why. I have clothes in my closet for “just-in-case” purposes. I haven’t worn them in years. I have a number of blazers, all of which I like, but only wear about half.

Where is it written that we can’t wear the same ensemble over and over? I mean, truthfully, I do wear the same outfits over and over. When I do buy clothing it’s usually to replace something that has worn out or no longer fits. There are a few things I have learned through this pandemic. One of which is, I am NEVER AGAIN wearing a garment with a fitted waist. No thank you.

At any rate, I’m not striving to be a true minimalist, rather, I am striving to have a simpler, less-cluttered life. I want to be surrounded by things that are useful and also things that are beautiful…things which bring me joy.

I will put blogging into my calendar so I am more regular at doing so. There’s some interesting things happening with Sir Vincent, including an ongoing debate about whether or not it’s acceptable to stand in my ear to see out the window in the middle of the night. Sometimes multiple times! I sleep on my side, hence, he stands on my head, his paw in my ear.

Anyway, do please check out K. Kenneth Davis, The Trans Capitalist. He may well do for you, what he did for me. Buy his e-book and take a long, loving look at your finances. Maybe you’ll decide, like I did, that I don’t need more money, I need less stuff. I don’t need a big house to call a home, I can create a home on wheels. Etc.

I had the opportunity to talk to Kenneth about money. I was a total geeky fangirl when he approached me to talk about my reactions to his e-book. We were having a fabulous conversation about shame and money when technology failed. Isn’t that ALWAYS THE WAY? So, I’m hoping we can chat more about that. He has given me the confidence to understand that it’s never too late to learn about money, and budgets, and debt, and savings, and expectations.

For that, and for him, I am incredibly thankful.

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It takes a team…

Posted in Churchland, Lessons Learned, Mental Health, Rants, Self Care, tagged , , , , , , , , on 06/01/2021| 2 Comments »

I’m sure most of you are familiar with the African proverb, “it takes a village to raise a child”. In making changes, both small and significant, I have realised that it takes a team to keep me sane, and upright…well, unless gravity intervenes.

A couple of weeks ago I was at the chiropractor for my bi-weekly visit. At that visit he was going through diagnostic tests that are done twice a year. They measure my biochemistry among other things, and can show cause and effect to how I’m doing. I’m not sure exactly what it measures, but he can read my stress, and life balance, in the results. Needless to say, given how the last couple of months have gone, the results weren’t great.

So we talked about it. About what’s been happening in my life. About how I need to make changes within myself before I can expect anything else to change.

My physiotherapist is also an amazing resource. And she’s a parishioner. She, her husband and their lovely dog join us by Zoom for Worship some Sunday mornings. And it’s great. She and I also talk about how my body responds to stress and what I can do to help with physical and joint issues, which right now, are many.

I have the best family doctor. She is much younger than I am and we have a very open relationship. She knows I will advocate for myself and she will call me out when I’m not doing what I should be doing. A couple of weeks ago I was not doing well at all. And she called me on it. So, now I’m taking a pill to help relax me enough to sleep. The pill works well…when I remember to take it at the best time, not four hours later. Ugh.

My Spiritual Advisor is a former mentor and current close and trusted friend. She lives in Ontario and will also challenge me when I’m not at my best, and will call me out, on what I need to do to be at my best. The other night we spent a couple of hours crying together over the phone, as I realised that I need to make myself a priority. I need to be as much of a priority as my Parish. Now where you, kind reader may be saying “Well, duh”; to me, this was an extraordinary realisation.

I also realise how fortunate I am to live in Canada, with universal health care and a great set of medical and dental benefits from my employer; to enable me to visit the chiropractor, and physiotherapist without going bankrupt. To be able to talk to my family doctor, or go to the emergency room and not need a loan to do so.

Each year I am required to write up a set of Goals and Objectives, for myself and to measure my parish leadership. At the end of the year I go through them with a committee, whose sole focus is ensuring I feel supported. When I sat down to go through the goals for 2019-2020, I was certain I had not achieved most of them, because of medical leave early in 2020 and because of COVID-19. When I stepped back to look at what we did accomplish I was astounded. Which is fodder for another blog post…

I came up with just two goals for 2021-2022. The first is to maintain status quo with respect to my workload. Focusing on Worship, Liturgical and Homiletic Preparation, crisis Pastoral care and other life milestones, such as baptism, weddings and funerals. In other words: hatch, match and dispatch. The second goal is to be more mindful with how I care for myself so I don’t end up on the knife’s edge again. Both goals were received enthusiastically.

I’m learning that I need to follow a routine if I’m going to be at my best. I need to wake up and go to sleep at the same time each day, regardless of what day it is. I can nap in the middle of the day, but I need to observe the same waking and sleeping times.

I’m learning that my body is unreliable in triggering hunger. In the morning I tend to feel nauseous, a side effect of medication and M.E. On days when I’m at the office, I don’t pack myself lunch or snacks or anything. And sometimes I find myself walking through the door at 4:00 pm feeling unsteady and somewhat lightheaded. Well, duh.

SO, the plan is that when I am going to be working at the office, I will pack (mostly) healthy snacks in my work bag as well as some water. I will endeavour to eat in the morning, and will aim for two meals a day. On days when I’m working from home or enjoying the Sabbath, I will again aim for two meals a day, plus snacks.

Every day I will go outside. Even if it is to smell the air and walk around the block, I will get outside and move my body.

I will take breaks when working, rather than pushing through, then realising it’s 9:00 pm and I haven’t eaten or moved in several hours.

Priority one is sleep. Once I have that balance achieved, it should help the other priorities fall into place, such as journaling daily, intentional daily prayer, intentional meditative practice, stretching and breathing exercises. Being gentle and loving with my body. Curbing negative self-talk, and treating myself with the same kindness I treat those I love.

My hope, is that in six months, I will be feeling and looking much better. Right now I’m weary and look as though I’ve been “dragged through hedge, backwards” as my Mam is fond of saying. In other words, I look as lousy as I feel.

But hey, I’m grieving after suppressing that grief. Grieving takes time, and so does healing. And because it’s written down and shared with several people, you included, dear reader, I will now be more accountable, to myself and to you.

So, you can expect more frequent posts, I won’t commit to how frequent, but definitely more than once a month.

And now I will wash my face, brush my teeth and head to bed where I will journal and listen to a daily meditation. And then hopefully fall asleep to the sound of my cat purring.

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A New Balance

Posted in Lessons Learned, Mental Health, Self Care, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on 01/01/2021| 2 Comments »

This is the time of year when social media feeds are filled with resolutions and promises for new life and new living. A time to say “out with the old” and “in with the new”. If there’s anything that 2020 has taught me is that we cannot possibly imagine what the future holds.

In January I prepared myself to have surgery. I was spayed in the middle of the month, and had to take six weeks off. I’m not good at sitting still to start with. And doctor’s orders made it only marginally more do-able. So, I had surgery, all went well, waited on biopsy results. Ovarian cancer. The good news was that those were biopsies of already removed ovaries. So, yay! I stayed with a friend for the first four weeks and struggled with pain management, sleep management and trying not to do too much. So I came home and the Parish gifted me with a meal-train meaning every evening between 5:00 and 6:00 pm a freshly cooked meal was delivered to my door. That lasted for two weeks and was fabulous!

February I was back to work and dove in with back to back AGM’s. It was Lenten Planning, Book Study, Bible Study and Worship Services. Worshipping at 9:00 am at the Anglican Church and 11:00 am at the United Church. Learning a new hymn book and new ways of worshipping. Celebrating Communion in a different yet familiar way. And just when we were getting into the swing of things there was a virus that was developing and spreading in China.

March saw us ramping up for Holy Week and Easter, listening to the news with fear as it seemed that this virus was now in Europe and would eventually make it’s way to North America. Discussions were held with respect to suspending Worship and investigating online Worship. Zoom. And then all hell let loose. On the 18th of March we were ordered to shutter the buildings. Pivoted to online worship, then added slides, all the time thinking we were going to be back in the building in time for Holy Week, then for Easter, then for Pentecost. Then someone finally said it…it will be months, if not years.

April, May, June all went in a blur and it was obvious that I would not be able to go to Ontario in August to visit my family, friends and my Beloved. I was gutted. I visited a friend on the other side of B.C. and was more hyper-aware of everywhere I was going then ever before. I brought home a friend’s senior cat, Vinnie, who has been a constant companion since June.

The summer meant taking some vacation but not going far. I took two weeks, then another week, and banked a fourth week, hoping I could travel in the fall or at the end of the year. Nope.

My Beloved and I talked by phone every week, sometimes more often. We were both struggling with what would happen if either of us contracted COVID-19. He had respiratory issues and I am immuno-compromised. My M.E. was out of control due to the constant stress on the body and mind.

I felt as though I was running as fast as I could and remaining, firmly in the same place. My mental health was suffering. Sleep began to be affected and I heard the word “Self Care” used a lot by my family doctor as well as my new therapist. September loomed and the Joint Church Committee made a decision to celebrate our First Anniversary of Shared Ministry the last Sunday in August in what would be a communion service. The first communion for us since the 14th of March. It was a simple, yet powerful online service with a half dozen people in the Church providing worship leadership.

Those same words had been used to describe the Holy Week and Easter Services, simple, yet powerful. We would send out a Zoom link for Worship every Saturday and on Sunday we would have 20 – 25 people, with those numbers steadily climbing to close to 50. We have folks from Fernie, from the Elk Valley, from other parts of B.C., and other parts of Ontario. We have folks from Alberta, Montana and even England. And over those ten months we have become a Parish Community. We have become family.

Every Saturday night I would hear from my Beloved. We would talk about his email reflection and I would read him my Sermon. We would talk about the state of the world, the rioting, Black Lives Matter, white priviledge, systemic racism, the upcoming U.S. election and what the world was looking like. On the 20th of November we chatted in the afternoon. Neither of us were feeling great, so we said goodbye and agreed to talk that next day. Except we didn’t talk that next day. He died.

His death broke me open as I couldn’t make the trip to his funeral. I was devastated that I couldn’t be there in person. I had made him a promise a decade ago that I would arrange his funeral and would preach/deliver the eulogy. It was the most difficult thing I have ever written, and delivered. I told the truth, which is what he wanted me to do.

The night of his funeral, a parishioner died by suicide. He was someone who struggled with depression and was bipolar. We would talk about depression with gallows humour, as one does. When his wife called me I was in shock. She wanted the funeral to be on their wedding anniversary, the 24th of December. So, that’s what we did. His funeral at 10:30 am, following a procession of fire trucks from his home to the Church, passing their studio one final time. It was a poignant service with people tuning in by Zoom from Canada and England.

Christmas was very different. Three completely different services on Christmas Eve, one on Christmas Day. By the time I got home from Christmas Eve Service at 10:00 pm I was shattered. I tried to watch a movie, but couldn’t settle into it. So I gave up, went to bed, woke up the next morning and after washing my face and brushing my teeth, I celebrated Christmas Day Communion with 30 people online, broadcasting from my flat.

My mental health is fragile. I’m resting as much as I can. I’m working at a slower pace. This was solidified when I fell down a flight of stairs (only about 6, indoor, carpeted stairs) on Tuesday. December has always been a difficult month, gravity-wise. I scuffed up both knees and landed on my nose. It’s not broken, but I will have lovely bruises under my eyes. I will find out just how skilled I am at concealer makeup.

What I have learned is this…no matter how much you do, there will be someone who is in awe of what you’re doing. No matter how much you do, you will feel insignificant in comparison with someone else. The entire world is in a state of stress and prolonged stress isn’t good for anyone.

Over the past week I have set up an office at the United Church and at the Anglican Church. I have reference books and files there that I don’t have at home, which means if I wake up in the middle of the night and want to work, I can’t as easily as before. I’m hoping this will mean I can try new things, read fiction, listen to a podcast, take up drawing. Learn some skills and hobbies rather than working all the time. Learn to balance life and work.

Learn that taking a nap is important and sometimes necessary. Learn that eating proper food is important. Learn that having friends in important. Learn that grieving takes a long time and, like God, works on it’s own time (much to my obvious chagrin).

My body hurts. My nose is swollen. I ache everywhere. And I feel numb. I miss my Beloved. I write in a journal every night to him. It helps. I haven’t yet cried for him. I know it will come, when the time is right. Last Christmas, among other things, he gave me a cloth cozy for hot drinks. It’s green quilted fabric and I take it everywhere with me. It’s amazing. Except I’ve lost it. Now, usually I don’t freak out about physical things. However, this thing I am freaking out about.

I’ve checked the pocket of every coat. The inside of every handbag. In my work bag. I’ve checked the nooks and crannies of my car, my flat, both Church offices. I asked a friend if I left it at her place when I was last there. I pray to St. Anthony that it is there because if not I will be devastated. Not because of what it is…but because it came from him, and he’ll never be able to give me another.

It feels like, if I have lost it, I’ll have lost another piece of him.

Anyway, I will keep looking, if I am meant to find it again I will. Hopefully my friend has it and all shall be well. And if not, I’ll learn the lesson in that too, eventually.

SO, here’s to balance. Here’s to finding joy in the small things. Here’s to plodding along one step at a time, one day at a time. Here’s to remaining kind. Here’s to therapeutic naps, weighted blankets, new bedding and purring cats. Here’s to 2021.

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Weary…

Posted in Mental Health, Self Care, tagged , , , , , , , on 30/10/2020| 1 Comment »

I’m not sure if it’s COVID-19 fatigue, if it’s mental exhaustion, if it’s too many hours in front of a screen, if it’s too little hours asleep, if it’s a CFS/ME flare or just what it is…but I’m weary.

I talked to my counsellor two weeks ago and she asked how I was doing. I default to talking about work, and she always steers me back to how I am doing, outside my vocation. Outside the busy-ness of my life. And I told her I was exhausted. And she gave me the BEST advice.

You see, many of my colleagues, from both denominations, talk about being outside and active. They talk about hiking and boating, of running and kayaking…and I have difficulty finding the energy to shower. My get up and go has got up and gone.

My counsellor told me I need to rest. I need to sleep. I need to listen to my body and when my body tells me to rest, that’s what I need to do. And to stop comparing myself to my colleagues. Also excellent advice.

I’m an empath. It’s difficult to live into this reality when we are not in a time of pandemic. Besides feeling my own “stuff”, being an empath means I feel other peoples “stuff” too. In the last month I’ve had four funerals (three of them in 10 days), and many of them were very challenging.

I learned today of the death of a colleague by suicide and it broke me open. Many of the people I am in contact with in this small community I call home are struggling with mental exhaustion. A colleague framed it this way…he said mental illness is something that can be treated, while mental exhaustion is something completely different. It is something for which there is no cure or fix. And that’s exactly what I’m feeling.

I’m planning a week’s retreat time at the end of November where I’ll escape to the magical place of Away. Vinnie has been interviewing sitters and he’s found a lovely young lady (and her Mum) to order around while I’m away.

My flat is a mess. I have chores to do. And usually these chores would be done in a couple of hours. But it takes me days to do what I could do in little time. I will get it done, because I do not do well in chaos.

Tomorrow I have another appointment with my counsellor which I know will be good. And tomorrow night I’m attending a COVID compliant community event that I’ve been really looking forward to. And that means I will need to rest myself during the day so I can function to make it to the event.

These times are challenging. They are downright exhausting. But I’ll get through them. Because even though I’m weary, I’m hopeful.

And that’s got to be worth something, right?

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The New Man in My Life

Posted in Lessons Learned, tagged , , , , on 19/07/2020| 2 Comments »

He’s 68 years old, roughly. He’s a redhead. With hazel eyes. He can be very loving, but only when it’s on his terms. His name is Vinny. We sleep separately yet love to cuddle together in the mornings. He’s particular about his food and when he wants it. He can get whiny and demanding. And he sheds a lot.

Oh, and he’s a cat.

I inherited him from friends of mine who are moving from British Columbia to Prince Edward Island. He doesn’t like to travel. He especially doesn’t like his canine brother. And given Vinnie’s advanced age (13) he’s getting a bit cantankerous in his dotage. Car rides are NOT his thing.

So far we are getting along well. He rubs his head against me when he wants attention. If he feels he’s not getting enough attention he’ll pat me with his white paw. Then he’ll scratch a bit. Then he’ll bite.

He meows in the morning, I think he’s demanding food. He only meows when he wants food. Other than that it’s mostly disapproving looks. And yet, somehow, he knows when I’m having a rough day and he’ll sit right beside me and will allow me to pet him. He loves being brushed, he loves to nap and he loves blankets warm out of the dryer.

He dislikes being told no. He dislikes a closed door. He dislikes when I don’t understand what he’s demanding. He also dislikes strangers. And thunder. And loud noises. And dogs. We’ve been together about a month and so far so good. We’re both still alive. I’ve got a few battle wounds and he’s been cursed at, yet we are slowly settling into a comfortable rhythm.

Kind of like an old married couple. Kind of.

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