Monday, April 14, 2014

Kindergarten Registration

Tomorrow is a big day. I've been planning how the day will go: grocery shopping (woo...hoo), preschool in the afternoon, whatever else with the kids until supper and then yoga at 6. But what I don't have in there is the fact I have to register my little girl for Kindergarten and I really don't want to.

If you would've asked me about this day a couple years ago I would've said that in no way do I want Sweet One to start Kindergarten here. I wanted to be in a larger center where I could get her into a language immersion program. Let her learn so much more than what this little town has to offer. I was quite adamant. I think I might have told Big Love that I'd be pissed if we were still here at this point.

And we are. Tomorrow I have to register her for Kindergarten. I'm in complete denial and feel like it is impossible to picture myself doing it. I thought for the past while that I was freaking out about her actually being old enough to start Kindergarten but at this exact moment, it isn't as much about that as it is that we are still here. In a place that my dear friend told me (and a bunch of other people at the fancy yoga retreat in Mexico) that I will never completely belong.

So that's where I am right now. We'll see what tomorrow is.

Saturday, April 12, 2014

10 years

I was sitting in my apartment and Big Love and I had just finished eating the breakfast I had made. I often went all out and made him bacon, eggs and hashbrowns when he'd stay over on the weekend. As I sat there finishing up I had a large wave of anxiety come over me. My 26th birthday had passed and a few days before my little sister had brought my beautiful niece into the world. Big Love and I had been dating for a few months. I stopped what I was doing. I felt dizzy. Everything started to swirl.  

I'm closer to 30 than 20, I thought I'd be engaged to someone at this point in my life, my sister just had a kid and there are no kids for me any time soon, I just started dating this guy in front of me, I had a major break up only a year and a bit ago and I'm not sure if I could handle another one....

I'm not joking when I say that Big Love got most of that and probably more. The thoughts that were running through my mind spun through my grey matter then up and out in one long sentence and ended with "if you don't think that you can marry me one day, just tell me now." Yup. I did that! His response? "Hon. We're fine." Quietly, calmly. Full of certainty.

My niece turns 10 soon. In less than 2 weeks I will be 36. I'm closer to 40 than 30, I don't have a career, I have been married for 8 years and it seems like we're desperately trying to figure out where the magic went, (of course I still love him and I even still like him, we're just a little stuck and disconnected), my daughter is 5, my son is 3 and they have me bursting with love and pride one minute and spinning in circles the other, we don't want to be living here for too much longer but there don't seem to be good job listings popping up for Big Love, and would we actually be able to afford to live in a larger center on his type of salary? money never seems to be more plentiful, would our current house actually sell in a reasonable time since there have been houses on our block for sale more than a year? I'm always tired, nothing I do seems to help me have more energy, ...... It continues to spin and given what I see at my freak out 10 years ago, I'm sure I'll look back on this in ten years and see how it all worked itself out.

I think I need to write things out more. Whether it be here or in morning pages but having it all inside doesn't seem to be helping me much.


Sunday, March 16, 2014

Progress

"Holding in negative emotions such as grief and anger is exhausting. Naming them and releasing them regularly through writing, movement, tears, singing, or making sounds frees us up to live full, vibrant lives."

"We all have a beautiful light within... We just sometimes forget it is there." - John Holland

I have read both of these quotes through Dr. Wayne W. Dyer's Facebook Page. (Did anyone else laugh their ass off at the Wayne Dyer reference on American Hustle?)

I have practiced 16 of the last 22 days. That's a lot for me. I didn't even practice on my own that much when I was singing regularly in choirs. Some days I have dragged myself through every minute of it, some have had moments to keep me going and then I have a day like today. Where everything sits well. I feel pieces of my emotional being finding their place. It feels good and it will keep me going even if the next 5 practice sessions suck.

For the first time in my life I am practicing for myself because I want to find my voice. I knew that when I started singing again it would have to be for myself only and not because I had people at the church nagging me to do so. I have no desire to sing in the church services right now. Maybe down the road that will change but right now I'm singing the music that keeps me going. And it feels very good.

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Keep Going

Yesterday, I dragged myself through half an hour of practicing. It felt hard, very frustrating and all I wanted to do was stop. But I kept on going because of this video that my sister had posted on Facebook.



I've said before that I don't know how to do the hard stuff. I know how to learn the music quickly and memorize it quickly but I do not know how to keep going when I feel like I'm fighting my muscles every step of the way.

Today after a lovely dinner date with my Sweet One I practiced for 20 minutes. Yes, my muscles tire easily but I managed to get a placement that felt good. I had spin. I had freedom despite the fatigue. And I guess that's why I want to keep going. The few moments that tell me "that's why I'm doing this" despite all the other minutes that make me want to give up.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Scrambled

I'm really not sure what I want to put on this page right now. I feel so much shifting going on internally but the pieces aren't fitting together yet. I'm trying to mentally prepare to be away from my kiddos for 9 days beginning at the end of March and it is scary. A big part of me hopes that the week in the sun, doing yoga, sitting on the beach, doing the things that you do at a yoga retreat on an isolated island is going to take all of this and put it together. Not all that realistic. It is still hard to think that this trip is really happening because it is something that I thought I could only dream of doing.

We've had a rough winter with illness. A few days after Sweet One's 5th Birthday, Little Man came down with a fever and Sweet One got hers the next day. Sweet One's lasted 3 days but Little Man's lasted 5 days until I took him in and learned he had an ear infection. She ended up with a cough that didn't stop for more than a minute or so throughout the entire day. She was exhausted. The next week at her 5 year wellness checkup they diagnosed a sinus infection which didn't surprise me. But a fever came back that same afternoon. 2.5 week after all of this started I got a fever. My first in 15 years. I felt like crap. While I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my bed, Little Man kept whining and asking me to hold him. When I finally gave in his forehead felt hot. Over a week into his antibiotics and he had another fever? Back to the Dr's office for the 3rd time in 2 weeks. He tested positive for the Flu and so both the kids were put on Tamiflu. I picked it up from the pharmacy and the three of us headed south for 1h45 to get my Mom from the airport because she was coming for a visit. (You'd think having her around would be helpful but it really wasn't. She talked about making me soup and when I told her I had everything for it she never got around to it.) The next day I found hives on Little Man and we spent the following 4 days dealing with them because, I do not over exaggerate, there was more hive than skin on my boy. Three antihistamines later and we were able to avoid steroids. Big Love also got a fever to finish everyone off. It was really a terrible 3.5 weeks and now 6 weeks after it all started I still feel weary because Sweet One is still complaining of a sore forehead and coughing. Little Man is also saying he doesn't feel that good.

I'm scrambled. Not sure where I am but trying to have faith it is all a journey that will bring me to somewhere beautiful. I'm currently reading A Return to Love by Marianne Williamson and there are moments when I feel reassured that I am on the right track. This morning I read a post by Sizzle and the quotes she includes from her friend I absolutely love. (Love the housework one and housewives defaulting to drugs!) I've also read some Louise Hay and various other books. I feel like eventually I will be able to integrate it all into my being and then I can heal and thrive.

I'm not settled. I get antsy. I need to meditate more. I'm trying to get practicing again but it is both hard and scary. A wise friend once told me that it is the things that scare us the most that are most worth doing. I actually performed last weekend. A couple 70's love songs. Vocally they weren't challenging at all but it was scary to get back out into the lights. Once I was there it felt so good. And so I keep plugging away. Hoping that all this exhausting work will one day leave me feeling full of energy and finding peace where there currently is not.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Thankful for the hard times and what they will teach me

We've been hit with a snowstorm about a month earlier than is the norm for this part of the country. I love the beauty of snow ... how it covers everything in a soft blanket as it sleeps, waiting for the spring. It sparkles and as my daughter keeps reminding me, it surrounds us with snow fairies that we can see only if we believe.

Despite all the beauty of winter I'm frustrated that my running outdoors season has been cut short by almost a month. I love getting outside and running. I was just starting to get past some of my injuries that started last April and seemed to plagued me incessantly, my body trying to explain to me something that is going on which I have yet to understand. I have a 5k on December 7th. It is the same 5k that was my very first ever last year. I want to do well. I want to kick ass at it. Not getting out to run for the next week makes me fear I am not going to do well.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I have all the fixin's ready for dinner. It will be just the four of us, again. It feels lonely. Another time of year when it is impossible for us to be with family. Sweet One is so absolutely excited about tomorrow and the fact that it is almost December. She can't say December without sounding like she is telling me the most magical secret in the entire world. I need to continue to look with her eyes when things are hard.

Ever since moving to this country I have always felt like Thanksgiving is a big celebration that starts off the Christmas season. In Canada, Thanksgiving is just Thanksgiving. That is our focus. But within a few hours of filling up on everything we are supposed to be thankful for, a large portion of the population down here will line up on the cold sidewalk only to barge into a store with their elbows out, fighting almost to the death for that next great deal. I saw neighbours returning home last year after a night of no sleep and a day of crowds. They looked like they had been hit by a truck! I don't really understand it.

When all is said and done, I miss my Dad. On December 15th he would have been a whopping 64 years old. Sure, we would have made jokes, but his candles would never set off the fire extinguisher. So maybe everything right now is all about that loss. Another year when he will be missing from the home of my siblings. A miracle might have happened that perhaps we would have found a way to mend the bridge and maybe he could have been missing from my home at this time of year, but I don't know. "...a miracle is just a shift in perception."

And so again I will take it all breath by breath. Learning to be compassionate and gentle with myself and trying to be open to the Divine Guidance I will be given so that I can see the beauty in all of this.


Friday, November 1, 2013

Lost voice

Singing always came very easy for me. Learning the notes was never a challenge nor was memorizing. Because of this I was always able to get away with a minimal amount of work. During my degrees, singing in choirs throughout the week also helped work on my endurance and so I never had to practice for hours on my own. The requirements for my degrees kept me moving forward and doing what needed to be done. But that was it.

At this point in my life singing has never been more difficult. It is the hardest thing I am trying to do. After 4.5 years of not singing I started up again. We've had a surrogate family since the day we arrived all those years ago and when patriarch passed away I had no choice but to offer to sing at his funeral. I felt something in my spirit and I couldn't ignore it. A nagging sensation came after me and I ran upstairs to see if I could perhaps sing the piece that was spinning through my head. When I realized there was something there I phoned our friend and offered to sing for her father's funeral. I phoned before I could spend any time second guessing my choice and scare myself out of it. I truly believe that this moment was one of spirit and not of me.

The whole process of getting the piece ready was interesting. Learning the notes wasn't an issue, the challenge was getting some degree of technique back. My voice was so out of shape but I kept working at it day by day with a motivation I've never had before. I'm thankful for it because I accomplished a lot. It wasn't brilliant, but it was damn good considering I hadn't sang in 4.5 years.

A few months later I took another chance. I auditioned for a community production of Les Mis. I didn't get the part I wanted and I wasn't willing to give up time and pay for babysitters for a lesser part. (I would have probably thought differently about it if I were in a bigger place.) The more the producer spoke, the less I wanted to be involved. The more the director spoke, the more I knew she was going to choose someone she already knew from another town. She wasn't ready to take a chance on a wild card. Despite all of that, I left that audition with an amazing sense of accomplishment simply because I put myself out there and spoke my truth. I believed in myself and it felt amazing.

Now I am trying to get my voice back in shape for singing classical repertoire and I don't really know what to do. My voice is pretty much exhausted by the time I'm done singing for 20-30 minutes. I've learned quite a lot of notes in a short amount of time but I'm struggling with figuring out how to get my voice to really sing. I have absolutely no endurance and so by the time I'm done my short practice I feel like I've gotten nowhere. The ease of singing in my previous years didn't prepare me for this. Each time I get myself into my little studio I am afraid but I make myself do it because I know I need to.

I am convinced that in the process of hopefully finding my voice again I am healing so much more of me that I can imagine even though at this moment I feel completely lost. Every once in awhile things go well and I have a glimmer of the freedom I once had in my voice but they are few and far between. I am trying to have faith, to trust the inner guidance I hear that is telling me to sing.