The darkness of fall is upon me. I turn in again to reflect. These cold months are about coming to terms with our own darkness, I'm convinced.
I'm listening to a podcast about the Jungian notion of the shadow
and how important it is to creativity -- http://www.thetoolsbook.com/toolbox/.
My shadow is backed into a corner and howling in indignation. What the f are you doing to me? Pay attention! I'm f ing starving! Give me something I can sink my teeth into! I'm hungry!
I am watching my shadow fearfully. What, me?
Yes, you, stupid. I'm wretched. Give me something!
Like what?
Meat! Substance! Meaning!
I'm not sure I have any.
Bullshit!
Okay. I'll look into it.
I'll try writing again. I'll show up and hope for everything that hasn't been flowing for a long, long time.
I'll start tomorrow.
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Spring?
Okay, where is it? I hear and see birds, a good sign, but it is so blustery and grey that it feels like lingering in winter's last gasp. I hung a birdhouse today after being inspired by my cross-the-street neighbours who have several birdhouses and feeders hanging in the bare branches of their little tree. Just looking at that everyday cheers me up, so I decided to do the same. I don't think they'll mind.
We returned from a trek north yesterday. Spending Easter with my family was relatively low-key this time, as my Brasilian sister-in-law scaled down celebrations because her mother is back in Brasil and she hasn't the extra help to prepare all the festivities. My father is somewhat recovered from his heart attack, but no less acerbic. He seems to delight in making offensive remarks, especially directed at me, but I've decided not to take any bait.
Having A and E with me helps me deal with the return, so I'm always grateful when they are both there. Even so, I am often ensnared in nostalgia. This time the big news is that my long-gone sister is making a prodigal return to visit my father with her 4 kids, husband, and kids' boyfriends in tow. This is to happen in May. I'm convinced she's only doing it to stake a claim on inheritance money and take what she can grab of my mother's belongings while she can. I did try to broach this with my father and brother, but they don't understand my sister as I do. She's avaricious. I can't say I'm looking forward to the hell that will ensue when my father does "drift into the netherworld," as he says now. He claims his near-death experience was delightful and nothing to fear, like falling into a comforting sleep.
I wish I could sleep. I still can't. I'm racked by worry about work . . . and nothing seems to help. I have no idea whether I will have any teaching work next year . . . and fear I'll have to move far away to even have the opportunity to teach in a board, but maybe even not then. I just don't know what to do.
I'm trying to stay present . . . here with the birds, with my coffee, with a blank page, but it isn't easy. Real spring weather might help make it easier, but maybe that's just me wanting a distraction. Action is harder to think about.
We returned from a trek north yesterday. Spending Easter with my family was relatively low-key this time, as my Brasilian sister-in-law scaled down celebrations because her mother is back in Brasil and she hasn't the extra help to prepare all the festivities. My father is somewhat recovered from his heart attack, but no less acerbic. He seems to delight in making offensive remarks, especially directed at me, but I've decided not to take any bait.
Having A and E with me helps me deal with the return, so I'm always grateful when they are both there. Even so, I am often ensnared in nostalgia. This time the big news is that my long-gone sister is making a prodigal return to visit my father with her 4 kids, husband, and kids' boyfriends in tow. This is to happen in May. I'm convinced she's only doing it to stake a claim on inheritance money and take what she can grab of my mother's belongings while she can. I did try to broach this with my father and brother, but they don't understand my sister as I do. She's avaricious. I can't say I'm looking forward to the hell that will ensue when my father does "drift into the netherworld," as he says now. He claims his near-death experience was delightful and nothing to fear, like falling into a comforting sleep.
I wish I could sleep. I still can't. I'm racked by worry about work . . . and nothing seems to help. I have no idea whether I will have any teaching work next year . . . and fear I'll have to move far away to even have the opportunity to teach in a board, but maybe even not then. I just don't know what to do.
I'm trying to stay present . . . here with the birds, with my coffee, with a blank page, but it isn't easy. Real spring weather might help make it easier, but maybe that's just me wanting a distraction. Action is harder to think about.
Friday, February 27, 2015
Judy
So, Judy and I are sitting here in the after rain sun, enjoying a quiet evening alone. I was told that Judy was chatty, but friendly and affectionate, a bully, but only with other cats. All I can tell so far, is that she`s a great companion and since we have no other cats, she`ll be quite happy here. Judy is my new foster cat. She is part of my plan to better tolerate my Ottawa life apart from my other half.
After 2 years of driving back and forth across bridges and in intolerable traffic, I have given up. I will visit my husband on weekends. He will visit me here once a week. That will be it, for as long as the kids require us to have them front and centre, which may be . . . for quite some time yet.
I`m resigned. I wish it were different, but it isn`t.
This is second marriage . . .
After 2 years of driving back and forth across bridges and in intolerable traffic, I have given up. I will visit my husband on weekends. He will visit me here once a week. That will be it, for as long as the kids require us to have them front and centre, which may be . . . for quite some time yet.
I`m resigned. I wish it were different, but it isn`t.
This is second marriage . . .
Crickets
I am sitting in my house with Judy, my foster cat. We are listening to the crickets and relaxing on the couch. The street life flows by just outside the open door. The light is fading, but the air is still warm.
There are so many things I am grateful for. Being here and at peace with myself is one. Having my husband still around, but not all the time, is another. Having my daughter here with me, close to her school, on a schedule I`ve grown used to is a third. My life is quite rich . . . even if I`m not.
There are so many things I am grateful for. Being here and at peace with myself is one. Having my husband still around, but not all the time, is another. Having my daughter here with me, close to her school, on a schedule I`ve grown used to is a third. My life is quite rich . . . even if I`m not.
Heading towards Winter
Ahh, the dark season approaches. The rainy season is in full shower. What gives my life meaning? I am stuck on this because my life feels stuck. Maybe it always has. Maybe I just have a melancholy temperament and I cannot avoid feeling miserable and purposeless. I'm not sure.
E is Switzerland bound. I am trying to order transcripts to update my apply to teach portfolio. I may head to Aylmer tomorrow is order to . . . call places. I'm not sure what to do with myself, sometimes. Often. I am mostly alone here now . . . having abandoned that house and its inhabitants. I feel so disappointed, but there isn't much I can do about it.
What can I do? All I can do is put one step in front of the other and try to get things going teaching-wise. I can write . . .but I'm not sure what. Surely, after all the effort I have expended in writing, something would have materialized. . . oh well, I'll write for myself and the world can go fug itself. Really.
I can write plays. I can teach. I can read. I can travel. I can enjoy raising my beautiful daughter.
Everything else seems beyond me.
E is Switzerland bound. I am trying to order transcripts to update my apply to teach portfolio. I may head to Aylmer tomorrow is order to . . . call places. I'm not sure what to do with myself, sometimes. Often. I am mostly alone here now . . . having abandoned that house and its inhabitants. I feel so disappointed, but there isn't much I can do about it.
What can I do? All I can do is put one step in front of the other and try to get things going teaching-wise. I can write . . .but I'm not sure what. Surely, after all the effort I have expended in writing, something would have materialized. . . oh well, I'll write for myself and the world can go fug itself. Really.
I can write plays. I can teach. I can read. I can travel. I can enjoy raising my beautiful daughter.
Everything else seems beyond me.
Jet stream arctic cold . . .
I do dread winter. Each wall I try to pscyh myself up for the onslaught of dark, cold, and snow, but I never seem to do much more than whimper all the way through it. I am hibernating now. I am back in my own home, tucked into the cozy warmth of it, fending off worrying thought about family and work.
Yesterday, E's son was diagnosed with a number of learning disabilities, depression, anxiety, ADD, and Turrett's Syndrome. It looks as though the Turrett's comes from his father, which explains a lot of E's behaviour to me, but doesn't make it any easier to live with.
I am in avoidance mode. I feel overwhelmed by this news and the fact that special cases are all around me. My own A, lovely daughter sunshine, is also a loopy disengager, so much so that her teacher has been in touch a number of times over the year about it and we have initiated our own investigation into why . . . which will take more than a year to complete.
For myself, aside from avoiding cold and conflict, I'm attempting to learn as much as possible from a miraculous LTO posting with a local school board. It is a .20, which amounts to an hour a day, but I have the opportunity to try . . . and learn as I do . . . so I am grateful, even if it can't continue.
Next year is up in the air . . .the insecurity of it scares me so much that I can't sleep, but once in a while I do.
I do try to enjoy what I can in the midst of all the confusion - the sunshine, conversations about learning, art making, dining out, and reading in bed.
Oh, but I'm longing for spring and for the jet stream to go back where it belongs!
Yesterday, E's son was diagnosed with a number of learning disabilities, depression, anxiety, ADD, and Turrett's Syndrome. It looks as though the Turrett's comes from his father, which explains a lot of E's behaviour to me, but doesn't make it any easier to live with.
I am in avoidance mode. I feel overwhelmed by this news and the fact that special cases are all around me. My own A, lovely daughter sunshine, is also a loopy disengager, so much so that her teacher has been in touch a number of times over the year about it and we have initiated our own investigation into why . . . which will take more than a year to complete.
For myself, aside from avoiding cold and conflict, I'm attempting to learn as much as possible from a miraculous LTO posting with a local school board. It is a .20, which amounts to an hour a day, but I have the opportunity to try . . . and learn as I do . . . so I am grateful, even if it can't continue.
Next year is up in the air . . .the insecurity of it scares me so much that I can't sleep, but once in a while I do.
I do try to enjoy what I can in the midst of all the confusion - the sunshine, conversations about learning, art making, dining out, and reading in bed.
Oh, but I'm longing for spring and for the jet stream to go back where it belongs!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)