It's gonna be a long road to go a long way

Murphy's Law

On the way to work today, I decide to stop at Tim Horton's for a coffee. Second in line at the drive through, I am counting out the change for my order, hurriedly exchanging as much of the larger coin for pennies and nickels as I can. Small change accumulating in my purse and in jars and drawers just makes me crazy, why not use it and eliminate some clutter.

For some reason I seem to think that the woman ahead of me has driven off and in a moment of distraction, numbers running through my head, I push on the gas pedal. Unfortunately, the woman and her car are still there and now my car is on top of her car. She jumps out to see if she still has a bumper. Thankfully, yes, and there is no damage. She gets back in and drives off. Meanwhile, I am cursing myself for being such a damn idiot! (Oddly enough this has happened before. I drove into someone else at a yield sign at a bridge on my way to choir practice and only recently, last year, backed into my girlfriend's Mazda while helping a friend move. With a big load on the back of the truck I honestly did not see her little car!)

I pay for my coffee and find her parked in a stall. I walk up to her window where she is casually eating her lunch. She rolls down the window and I apologize profusely, begging her to forgive me for being such a damn idiot! She is the kindest woman, she smiles saying it's no problem, really. I apologize again and crawl back to the car with my tail between my legs and am off to work, wide-awake.

It should have ended there.

The next thing you know, my work day is done and I am on my way to the car. I arrive at the car only to find that there is no car. Stopping dead in my tracks I scan the parking lot and begin to question my sanity. Woman! Where did you park the car! I circle the parking lot twice and it is nowhere to be found. I call my mother. She thinks I have forgotten where I parked it. Are you sure you actually drove to work today, is it still parked at the house? Yes mom, I am sure. I circle the parking lot again. Have I lost it? My mind? Debateable. The car? Yes. The damn car was stolen.

That's not the worst part.

The car belongs to someone else: the woman I am housesitting for!

OH! MY! GOD!

We call Anna at her hotel, it's 6 AM over in Israel but we needed to get the report rolling. She doesn't remember her license plate number. Despite all the information we have, the police are unable to locate her record in the system without this number as there are 150 other women with the same name! And for some bizarre reason, the plate number is not listed on the insurance papers. 10 o'clock at night, the insurance company is closed, her mechanic is closed, tomorrow's a stat holiday and some bastard has taken her car out for a joy ride. After searching all of the places she had told us to look, we finally found the plate number written on an old ticket and were able to get the car reported. And now we wait to see what happens.

It probably would have been a good day to stay in bed.

What Makes You Happy?

"And therein lies the best advice I could possibly dispense: just DO things. Chase after the things that interest you and make you happy. Stop acting like you have a set path, because you don’t. No one does. You shouldn’t be trying to check off the boxes of life; they aren’t real and they were created by other people, not you. There is no explicit path I’m following, and I’m not walking in anyone else’s footsteps. I’m making it up as I go. It’s harder, for sure, and kind of scary sometimes. But it will allow you to look at yourself in the mirror and know you’re playing by your own rules."

~ Charlie Hoehn

Mixed Up

I have to keep telling myself that my feelings are important too.

The things I feel, I feel for a reason.

This time, what I want matters more than what he wants.

Five years is a long time. It should have been three, but I stuck it out. Why? Who knows. I guess it was easier to be miserable than to face the fears of change and the manifestation of conflict. Though, there was conflict all along.

Last year, around this time, we broke up. Twice within two months. Third time's a charm. Eventually you just reach a point where your soul really starts to just die and you have had enough. Call it divine intervention, fate, or simply a moment of pure, unabashed clarity; this time was different. In a moment of truth, I realized that what I want, need and value matters. That for the first time in my life I was putting my true self before anyone else... and not feeling guilty or torn over it, or deliberating for hours and days on end.

At this point, I could no longer just coast along allowing myself to live against my values, in a constant state of disharmony. I realized that I, and I alone, had let things go too far out of control and that this could no longer go on.

I left the province to go back home to the big city; to get away and start a new beginning. Thinking about it now, maybe I was running. But self-preservation is a strong motivator. Did I think there was a chance I would back down on my decision, absolutely! Could I let that happen this time, no way! I needed to clear my mind and heart and figure out what the hell it is that I want in this life.

Now he wants to move here to be with me. We have been apart for 19 days. He says he didn't realize how unhappy I was. Despite the arguments, the distance, the clear signs and problems in our relationship. He says he wants to work on it. After last years' episodes and all this time and broken promises, he somehow thinks that working on it now is going to magically prove to be the solution we've been looking for all along. It is hard because there is a part of me that is starting to feel like maybe this time is different and big enough to allow for some real change to happen. Am I crazy? History repeats itself, does it not? And the one thing I have learned is that you can't change anyone but yourself.

Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got til it's gone...

There is a Silence

“In a rabbit-fear I may hurl myself under the wheels of the car because the lights terrify me, and under the dark blind death of wheels I will be safe. I am very tired, very banal, very confused. I do not know who I am tonight. I wanted to walk until I dropped and not complete the inevitable circle of coming home.” ~ Sylvia Plath

The city is full of noise, but it is drowned out by the deafening silence within. I am uncertain as to what I am doing here or why. It is a familiar place, these streets I have known, though I am unsure if this feels like home. The people I know have their lives and why should my being here change anything. I am living in three different places; my belongings strewn about everywhere. An unsettling tension lingers. Lost. Alone. Unsure of everything. I have no idea what the future holds or where I should be. The initial excitement of being somewhere I belong has subsided. The adrenaline has worn off. Emotions have surfaced. The emotions of the past three months have let loose their fury and I am at their mercy.

The choices I have made are mine alone and I wonder if they are the right ones. For one I am certain, the rest... have yet to unfold.

Mad Woman Move

Packing...and I don't know where to begin.... Kitchen? Closet? Vodka?

Wow...

It is all a bit overwhelming.

I picked up a rental truck from Budget today.

It was bigger than I had expected.

I felt terror squeezing my guts as I jumped in; it was yelling "You're going to drive THIS onto the ferry, through the windy roads of BC, across the Rocky mountains and all the way to Edmonton? Woman, have you gone mad!"

Driving it out of the lot, there is a beep beep... beep beep...and I'm thinking what the F is that.

A block later I clue in.

I didn't think I had to release the emergency brake.

It's going to be a good trip.

Small steps in the right direction make more sense than a thousand big ones in the wrong

Two of a Kind

Sweat + Sacrifice = Success

I am trying it again. Running, that is. I ran around the neighbourhood tonight. Living at the bottom of a valley is probably a blessing for the legs & glutes, however, it's quite the feat when you are starting out. Running uphill is torture. Needless to say, it felt like I was running as slow as molasses. Still, I ran. My lungs were on fire. My clothes were drenched, in sweat and rain. I cursed my calves.

Met a boxer along the way. He was walking his human and abruptly stopped, turning to stare me down from up the hill. I watched the woman struggling to get him to keep going, but he resisted, all the while watching me. I caught up to the two of them and said to the woman, "Looks like he wants to meet me!" No sooner were the words out of my mouth and he was on top of me, snarling. My heart ran up my throat and I did my best to conceal my fear. I held out my hand hoping he wouldn't tear it off and a moment later he was licking me like I was his best bud. Asshole!

All in all it was a brilliant end to the day...running in the rain. I love these rainy days and though I can't say that I "love" to run, I certainly love the way the body feels after a run.

Cuz I'm Building My Own World One Brick At A Time & It Just Keeps Gettin Better

Good lord I love this song:



I swear he says "Kerstin, be real" at the beginning. Ok, I will!

Bright Lights

There's a girl I know who could just never seem to get it right. Her life is a pattern. A perpetual cycle of wrong choices and mishaps. In her search for approval she has lost herself, her identity, though the saying goes you can't lose something you never had.

She once dated this guy who wanted to control her soul and her life. She was looking for God. He had found God and was looking for a wife. He told her what to believe. She couldn't believe it. They argued all the time. She finally left for summer to work for her brother a province away. He drove out a week later and convinced her to return. They continued the power struggle until her dad died that fall. Her faith vanished, along with the devotee.

There was another one just coming out of prison for accidentally murdering his mother at 17 in a fit of rage. They met online, he was moving up to a half-way house with a curfew of eleven. He sang, played guitar, quoted Nietzsche. She had a big heart. He always seemed a bit distant but she tried to find a way in. He was the one who found a way in and then, broke it off. Left his keyboard as a consolation prize and married a few months later.

There were others...like these.

The emotionally unavailable, the bad boys, the addicts, the users, the explosives, the ones who need to be "fixed". She is drawn to them... She who, as a child grew up thinking I wish he would love me, now is subconsciously attracted to men who can’t meet her emotional needs.

Did she really ever love any of these men? Not these ones. In hindsight, it wasn't ever really about love... It was sticking around despite all the red flags, the inner turmoil...giving in to fear, guilt...putting off the inevitable because it was just too damn comfortable, familiar....it was putting the needs of others ahead of her own...seeing the good, ignoring the bad...it was fulfilling her sick need for approval, her codependent tendencies. The persistent longing to be loved, to be cherished, to be seen, to be needed, to care for someone; this crazy motivating force to find someone to fill an empty space.

But it is a space that she is only starting to understand: only she can fill...

There comes a point in life when you are thrown a curveball. One that you did not see coming. It hits you head on and you see stars. In that instant, there is a major shift in perspective. The stars leave a light and suddenly, things are crystal clear.

And voilà, everything changes.

Done For

This office is stifling my creativity.
(Let me out)

Fluorescent lighting, blinding me with its incessant glare.
(Talked the maintenance man into turning the one above my desk off)

Constant whirring of the server fans.
(Why they're not in a closet somewhere is beyond me)

Sauna-like heat radiation.
(It's amazing I even stay awake in here - anyone heard of AC?!)

Lack of windows to the world.
(I really wish I could see outside)

Piles & piles of work waiting to be done.
(At least the day goes by)

Neverending to-do lists.
(I can't even keep track anymore)

Unrealistic deadlines.
(You want WHAT?!!! Done WHEN?! TODAY?!)

Yet another change, edit, revision, policy...disaster.
(No one really knows what we are doing around here, do they?)

Constant interruptions.
(I would love to talk shop, really, come on in!)

Communication breakdowns.
(Need I say more)

Or is it that I have too much on my mind to even concentrate on work.
(These days, it's just better to be asleep)

This song is the chaos of my mind right now:


Work? What work?!

Stormy Weather

"Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible in us be found." ~ Pema Chodron

Mile Marker

Breathe

Human Jello

Jinchun Chen and his team of scientists have created a new kind of gelatin made from none other than you and yours truly. Using the genes that produce human collagen and then combining them with yeast they've concocted human gelatin!

Yum.

The cannibal in me is smacking her lips.

We can soon (hopefully) enjoy human jello, human s'mores, gummi humans and many other delightful confections.

I wonder if the vegetarians will go for it. Hey, it's not an animal product and nobody got hurt!

More info here or the full study in the Journal of Agricultural & Food Chemistry

Fast-Forward to Nowhere

We live our lives fast, but not always well. We are in a constant state of motion. We skim the surface of each others lives and excel at abbreviated relationships. We plug in, but are disconnected from what is truly important. What is real. We may think we are getting ahead, but we are only falling further behind.

We follow the lead of our 'leaders' and compete with each other for the better life: the sexiest body, the biggest house, the fastest car, the most money in the bank, the latest gadgets. We barely have time to enjoy it because we're working so hard to earn it. We are enthralled with the latest celebrity gossip and events, but hardly take notice when our children or siblings excel in school or sports or the arts.


We strive to be successful. But what is success? Do we even know our own definition of the word or do we, like most people, define it based on what everyone else is doing. We work harder not smarter, in our relentless pursuit. We want results. Quick-fixes. Instant gratification. We live an ASAP kind of life. We are motivated by deadlines... to do something, have something, be somewhere, be someone. We are pressured to get married, make babies, climb the corporate ladder, plan for retirement and then give up the things we love because "I can't do that at my age" or our bodies are too worn out from contamination and neglect. We spend countless hours in front of the TV and computer, but rarely pick up a book.


Our refrigerators are filled with 'heat-and-serve' meals and we eat on the go, in between calls, during commercials. Family dinners have become a thing of the past. Our iPods are stockpiled with music, but we seldom hear it live. We seldom hear. The music becomes filler. Background noise. We are so used to the constant hum and hustle, and no longer know what to do without it. We waste time by filling up our time. We are masters of multi-tasking our to-do lists. But the question remains, what exactly are we doing?

Our relationships are surface. We coexist but disengage. We text rather than talk. We wave at our neighbours but don't know their names. We chit-chat about the weather and everyone is "fine". We practice our scripts, "How are you?", "I'm well, how are you?" and the plot never thickens, never goes too deep. The sets never change and the story remains the same. We are afraid to get too close. To know too much. To have to deal with anything more than we already have to deal with. To risk. We want it easy. We want everything to be great. We want fair-weather friends. We are not willing to deal with the things that need our attention in our relationships. It's too hard. Too much work. We bottle things up for fear of hurting the other person and don't say the things that need to be said. We compromise too much, or too little. We find time for everything except each other and are often too exhausted by the end of the day to give any more of ourselves to the ones who need and deserve it the most.

It is madness.

Complete, and utter madness.

What is your purpose?

What is your passion?

Your vision?

What drives you?

Where is your heart?

Who are you?

What are you filling your days up with?

Now that yesterday is gone, what did you really do that was worth mentioning?

When was the last time you had a heart-to-heart with a friend, face-to-face?

Where are you going and why?

Will it all be worth it in the end?

1/26 Ain't Bad

I Would Jump Ship

If Not Now When

I do alot of "talking." Some would have different ideas on this statement. Those who know me well, would likely agree. I "talk" about all I want to do, to change, to achieve. A new idea, a new goal, a new area of interest. I talk about all the decisions I want, or need to make...and should I do this, or that, and is it better to go this way or that way. Yes, indeed, I have rambled on for quite some time now... My mind is an unattended zoo and I am the monkey swinging from tree to tree.

When it comes right down to the barebones of it: I need more discipline. Self-discipline. I say no more of this half-starting, half-finishing, half-living that I do so well. No more humming and hawing. I've had enough of myself.

Maybe, subconsciously this all started the other day I watched Karate Kid... the seemingly pointless & laborious chores beginning Daniel's lessons with Mr. Miyagi which led to the desired outcome of winning the championship, beating his enemies and ultimately finding himself in the process. Eventually. He had to shine the cars and paint both sides of the fence first.

I have noticed myself wanting to do something, picturing the results I want to get out of it, planning... but "not really" wanting to put in the effort required to achieve these results...the end goal...the desired outcome.

Like wanting to work out in the mornings... I set my alarm early enough for a run pretty much every night. Morning comes, the alarm goes off and I convince myself not to go because it's warmer under the covers, or I'm still tired or it's dark outside or "I'll go after work." It's this constant battle with myself to not do something that I actually want to do.

I become lazy, distracted, uninterested and start making excuses or doing other things. Even worse, when it comes to decisions, I am giving into emotions like fear... fear of the change, the unknown... fear of making mistakes, messing up... fear of doing it wrong or not being good enough. Feeling rather than thinking realistically. So many things left unfinished. Long lists of "to-dos." Loose ends.

Such a simple concept...to "achieve" one must "do", but it requires great effort and determination... and consistently great effort and determination.

When it suits me, I can put in the effort. What I need to do, is get over this "when it suits me" bit. Self-discipline means sacrifice. Sacrificing what may be more desirable at the time and doing what's difficult but brings the most satisfaction in the end. Sacrificing what you feel for what you think. What you feel in one moment for what you think about your life...what do you want, what's important... what matters most.

I want less random and more routine. Less doing it tomorrow and more today. Less later and more now. Though I'm not entirely sure of what I really want these days, I do know that I want to finish what I start... and get off the fence.

Wishing For Rain As I Stand In The Desert

Ron Pope...well worth a listen...

War

Sometimes I feel like giving up. My heart's just not into it anymore. Though I know that I can't, the temptation is definitely there. I've been battling myself these days... running low on ammunition...wearing down. Nothing makes sense anymore. I am skeptical...empty. I've lost faith and trust... Decisions to make are bright night lights of head on traffic and I'm trying to swerve but the wheel won't turn. I really don't know where to begin. Begin within, they say...but how do you do this when you are trying to pull yourself out. It's suffocating down there.

I've been making some rather odd decisions as of late and they don't gel with the person I want to be. I want to be a woman of value. I want inner strength and inner peace... I want so much more than I'm allowing myself to embrace and yet, here I am. Stuck. Glaring at a wall. This wall has been up for the last six years, when everything crumbled...some of it, probably longer. I'd like to tear it all down someday, brick by brick. I'd like to do alot of things. I don't want to just get by. I want to live the life I dream of. Why do we stay stuck... why do we settle... why are we so nuts?

Tonight at derby, I realized the power of the mind/body connection. Skating round and round, I'm hearing this voice... you gotta want it. Fight for it. Hunger for it. You've gotta be more hungry for it. I'm not hungry for it. I'm full. In fact, I'm full of shit. All this shit that's going on in my head is affecting my play. When it got tough on the track, as my body was screaming at me for missing two weeks worth of practice to go vacation across the rockies in my hometown, my mind...my disastrous mind was giving up on me too. That jerk. "I can't do this", "You're not going to make it", "You're going to collapse", "You're not good enough, fast enough, fit enough".... add this negativity to the rest of the chaos and I was out. I nearly had a breakdown on the track and I wanted to smack myself upside the head because this is not the attitude I was looking for. This is not me. This is someone else who has taken over and I would like her out. I did eventually go back, but I couldn't get my legs to connect with my head and my head to connect to my heart.

This is all wrong.

All of it.

I'm losing it.

What is this thing in my chest? This thing that has hold... clenching ...tight... So tight, I cannot breathe. It navigates my life for me, I feel like I have no choice in the matter. Try as I might, I cannot win this one. Ever.

The bastard keeps me up at night...

Pulls me, a constant tug. At first I thought it was funny. Now I'm not so sure. This is just madness... this thing in my chest.

I didn't ask for it.

I didn't want it.

You can have it.

It's up for grabs. Free for the taking. The key too...

I want to rip it out, stuff it into a brown paper bag, lock it in the freezer... and sew up the incision with fishing line. Freeze frame it in the frigid cold and forget about it. This incessant timpani of steady rhythm would cease to a muffled groan... as each drop, each cell becomes frost and silence instills...

But all I can do now is drown it out... with something louder...words...a melody...a voice...

Play it loud... and hope the tide comes in

"Memories fade Like looking through a fogged mirror Decisions too Decisions are made Decisions are made and not bought But I thought this wouldn't hurt a lot I guess not"

Noon Hour Bliss

Working downtown has it's perks, one being a beautiful harbour within walking distance...