living life Archives - Page 18 of 22 -

Hope Notes

June 27, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

Leave a hope note for someone to find, said the instructions from my Dreaming Big course. Put something good into the world. So I did.

A library book that needed to be returned.

It seemed appropriate.

I had cut out the notes provided.

I put them at the beginning of chapters.

And I started to realize the notes seemed to match the chapter headings.

Will someone else trust this as I do?

It’s about having faith.

And trust.

No one ever is, even if it’s just a note from someone in a library book.

Will that person start to believe?

What dream will this spark?

C’mon, I dare you.

Then add your own ingredient. Start now. Don’t stop.

…I wonder who will find them?

Filed Under: Better world · Tagged With: hope, living life, spreading the love, we're not alone

Hello, Inspiration – Living the Life You’re Meant to, Part 2

June 26, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

I read Eat, Pray, Love when I was pregnant with Connor and wasn’t a huge fan. I liked the book well enough – interesting story – but I thought Liz Gilbert was a narcissistic drama queen who just needed to get it together already.

That descent into judgmental karma-land certainly came back to bite me, didn’t it?

I didn’t get it then. I didn’t understand what depression was like, what it does to people. I didn’t cut her any slack for feeling as though she was screaming on the inside and no one could hear. I didn’t get it when she admitted to feeling like she was living the wrong life.

A while back my husband casually mentioned that the movie was available through our on-demand service but, since I didn’t particularly like the book – and really didn’t want to see Julia Roberts playing Julia Roberts, er, Liz Gilbert – I didn’t watch it. Then Connor got sick and I spent a lot of time on the couch. When I got sick of Big Bang Theory re-runs, I decided to give the movie a shot.

The movie as a whole was better than I expected, but it wasn’t until the end – the very, very end when Gilbert describes her philosophy about truth seeking – that I got it.

“If you are brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting (which can be anything from your house to your bitter old resentments) and set out on a truth-seeking journey (either externally or internally), and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue, and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher, and if you are prepared – most of all – to face (and forgive) some very difficult realities about yourself….then truth will not be withheld from you. Or so I’ve come to believe.”

I had read these words when I read the book, but in that moment I heard them for the first time.

My philosophy – though never this eloquently stated – is the same. I’ve never been good at trusting my instincts for the small stuff. But the big stuff, no sweat.

Truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue? Absolutely. Except I call them signs. And they’ve been coming at me for a while, some of which I wrote about in an earlier inspiration post.

I haven’t watch Oprah for years, but I did watch her final show and there it was again.

“We all are called. Everybody has a calling. And your real job in life is to figure out what that is and get about the business of doing it.”

I have a career that I love and that I feel is important. But I’ve realized it’s not the same thing as my calling.

“That is what a calling is: it lights you up and it lets you know that you are exactly where you’re supposed to be doing exactly what you’re supposed to be doing.”

That’s what sharing my story has done for me. And what hearing others’ stories has done. Something that I refused to acknowledge for a long time has become what lights me up.

“Every day in every way you are showing people exactly who you are. You’re letting your life speak for you.”

That’s what this blog has become for me. From the first day, I’ve written what I’m feeling, no matter how raw or honest or scary. This is who I am.

“Wherever you are, that is your platform. And that is where your power lies… Connect, embrace, liberate, love somebody. Just one person. And then spread that to two and as many as you can. You’ll see the difference it makes.”

This is my platform. For now. And maybe it will stay that way. But it’s already done what I didn’t know it could do. Liberate someone. What a powerful way to express what helping to free someone from their own struggle can feel like.

Oprah talked about your life speaking to you as a whisper that, if you don’t listen, will start to throw bricks. And if you don’t listen, she said, the whole brick wall will fall down.

Well, my brick wall fell down. So I’m listening. Every day I’m piecing together more and more about what I want to do with this opportunity. I don’t know where it will take me. I don’t know if it will be something I do an hour a day after work or if it will be more than that.

“You have the power to change somebody’s life,” Oprah said.

I’ve already seen the difference it makes, so I intend to keep shining my light.

Filed Under: Hello, Inspiration · Tagged With: living life, perspective

Life List #7: Photography Course

June 22, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

Early this year I wrote my life list and taking a photography course was #7. Item checked off! On Monday I took a course for beginners and learned a ton – basics of settings, more about composition, etc. and now I feel like I understand enough to keep playing with photography.

These are some of the photos I took – though I’m having colour management issues so I don’t love how they appear here – but I’ve included a few captions indicating what I was aiming for with the shot.

(Incidentally, this same company offers photo tours to places like Africa. Since a safari was on my list already I’ve updated it to be a photo tour, because how cool would that be? A safari with photography help – sign me up! When I win the lottery maybe…)

Playing with leading lines

More lines with focus on foreground

The effect of the rule of thirds

Roy. Focus on statue details.

Just because I like pictures of paths.

Didn't quite get the detail in the flowers I wanted, but aren't these cool?

Love these spikes.

Lines of the fence with flowers in the foreground.

White in a sea of green.

This poor bear, lying there waiting to be played with again.
Stark white. I wonder if he had grass stains?
Blue smile conveys no concern, knowing his playmates are nearby.
He knows they’ll come back when hide and seek is done.

(Tormenting you with a wee bit of poetry while I play along with Mama Kat.)

Also linked up with:

Filed Under: Photos · Tagged With: firsts, Life list, living life

Why I Run

June 16, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

At first all I hear is silence. Then birdsong. The crunch of my feet on gravel. The rhythmic sound of my breath.

I am running.

***

I started in running in January 2005. I hated going to the gym, so I figured I’d try something with a goal in mind and registered for a 10k clinic.

At first one minute of running made me feel like I was going to DIE.

I went to the run clinic every Wednesday night and dutifully did my solo runs two other days a week. I progressed, increasing intervals until I got to the point where I thought I might actually be able to do it.

And I did. That year at the end of April I ran my first 10K.

But I didn’t stop running.

Why do I run?

I run because it’s hard. Every run, good or bad, feels like an accomplishment.

I run because it gets me outside into the fresh air.

I run because a sunlit trail often seems like the place on Earth to be.

I run because when it rains everything feels refreshed, even me.

I run because, as I wrote before, it’s a battle between mind and body and it’s good for both.

I run because I have friends who run and I run with them.

I run because I’ve made new friends through running.

I run because often when running I’m also writing – drafting things in my head and thinking about the right turn of phrase as my feet pound the path.

I run because the trails are there.

Because I run, I get alone time I might not otherwise take time for.

Because I run, I’ve seen my expression reflected on other runners’ faces – a grimace signalling determination through pain.

Because I run, I also know what an expression of joy looks like on the face of someone out in the fresh air and sunshine doing something that’s good for them.

Because I run I see more dragonflies.

Because I run, I get to see my dog in his happy place, skipping along, sniffing, falling behind, catching up, surging ahead, pushing me farther.

Because I run I have learned to push myself – to not quit when I want to because I remember my dad’s advice and I’ve learned it’s true: “If you stop when it’s hard you never improve.”

Because I run I know what it’s like to cross the finish line of a half-marathon and receive a medal for finishing something I once thought I would never, ever be able to do.

***

I see sparks of sunlight glinting off the lake. Shadows bounce and twirl, reflecting the dance of the trees above them.

Today I ran.

Because I am a runner.

Yes, my face always gets this red when I run.

Filed Under: Happy things · Tagged With: favourite activities, living life, perspective, running

Now You Are Three

June 13, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

Dear Connor,

Today you turn three. I can hardly believe it.

I know, that sounds trite. But as I write this on the eve of your birthday – with you asleep next door in your big boy bed (the one you insist on showing every single person who comes into the house, and the same one you never want to sleep in alone at night) – I feel a little bit stunned. Three years!

This is the first photo taken of you when you were born:

Looking back, it tells me so much of what I now know about you. You’re not a huge fan of being taken away from your mama. You know exactly what you think and aren’t afraid to express it. You’re sensitive to your environment, but if you want to be the loud one, nothing can stop you.

As well, the expression on your face is one I’ve seen many a time since:

Something has happened in the last few months. I don’t know when, exactly, but you stopped being a baby. I know you’re not a baby and haven’t been for a while, but until recently I had moments every day where I caught a glimpse of baby in you. Each time I held on tightly, knowing it was a fleeting gift.

I’ve only just realized it, but it doesn’t happen every day anymore. Hardly at all, actually. Even last week when you were sick you didn’t stay stuck to me in the same way you did when you were sick only a couple of months ago. You’re growing up.

And I’m growing up with you. Since I’ve been off work the last couple of months, I’ve been working on getting better and for a long time Daddy was taking care of you. He was doing all the hard stuff that I couldn’t do at the time, like getting up with you in the mornings and trying to get you to eat breakfast, putting you down for naps, doing baths and bedtimes. For a short and very scary time I wondered if I would ever be able to do those things. It seems so silly, but I couldn’t do them. I was too sick and I needed to take care of myself before I could take care of you.

Over the last couple of weeks, though, I’ve started being mom again and doing some of those hard things that used to set me off when you didn’t cooperate. At first I had to talk Daddy into letting me do those things, to let him know it was okay and to assure him that I’d ask for help if I needed it. And we always had back-up. So many people have helped us over the last few weeks – I only wish I could repay them with something other than endless thanks and undying love. We owe Grandma especially for being here at times when I needed someone to do what I couldn’t do with my own child. Sometimes you just need your mom and I’m so grateful for mine. I hope I can always be there for you, for whatever you need, the way she is there for me.

We’re doing well, though, you and I. Which is not to say everything is easy, just that I can handle the hard stuff better now. And my darling boy, sometimes you are a holy terror. I can’t tell you how many times someone in public has commented on what a handful you are. If only they knew. I could do without the screaming fits and the meltdowns over seemingly insignificant things, but I know that’s part of who you are – a passionate, expressive person. (And you get that from me but don’t tell Daddy I acknowledged that.)

The past three years have changed my life in ways I never could have imagined, and for a long time things were so hard I wasn’t sure I’d make it through. I know what happened to me was hard for others as well. Your dad is really annoyed that I didn’t get the help I needed soon enough. In one way I’m sorry too, because it meant he had to deal with a lot of things I wish he hadn’t had to. I can’t change that now, but I do know how much he loves me and I know how much I love him because we’ve been through this together.

Mostly, though, I really don’t resent what I’ve experienced. It was awful – don’t get me wrong – and it’s not over yet. But I’ve learned so much from it – about you, about our family, about myself and about life. I now know just how much love and support we have, and that’s a powerful thing.

My experience with postpartum depression has also taught me that every one of us has something to give. We all have ways of helping someone. Of changing someone’s life, even. A few people have helped change mine, and I hope I can do that for someone else.

I have found new passions and new sources of inspiration that I never would have found if it weren’t for this, and no one can ever take that away from me. This insight is one of the biggest gifts I hope to offer you – to live your life fully, to do what you feel you’re meant to do, and to love and be loved in the process.