Surrendering My Expectations

 

            

    Autumn stretches her long arms and nature surrenders to her embrace by slowing folding under and going to sleep. And by putting the garden to bed I know my energy has shifted toward reflection. We said goodbye to the summer with Thanksgiving, which was very different from last year's huge celebration. And I fondly glance back on Oct 2019 and think of my great expectations for Thanksgiving 2020. Before Scott and I drove away from my parents place at the lake last year we made plans for the whole family to be together on Thanksgiving 2020. But alas, we know that the pandemic that swept the whole world off it's axis prevented not only us missing family dinner but also for many others. It was another blow to the social calendar, another reminder that we can't make plans too far in the future. 

Like many others, I've been thinking often about my expectations for 2020 and how this lack luster of a year has been anything close to my expectations.  In March, coming out of what felt like a social hibernation from grieving my dear friend Lisa for most of the winter, I had huge expectations for the spring and summer. I was ready to rekindle friendships and spend oodles of time with my family at the lake. I was gaining my footing and making big plans to explore Vancouver with my husband and host dinner parties. And then overnight the world we knew literally stopped. Everyone in the world was trapped, isolated in their houses, scared of the unknown. How long would Covid last? Were we going to travel this summer? Could we actually get back to normal before the fall? 

Each month our hopes were dashed and our expectations rejigged once again. I became more and more frustrated and angry because I couldn't control anything, besides the level of cleanliness in my house. It seemed every time I planned something it didn't happen. And I found myself so entrenched in grieving the way things used to be it was all I thought about. There were traditions not played out and it felt like I was suffocating under the weight of anxiety that grew from that. 

Then out of no where something shifted. My mindset. I started a morning routine, inspired by my now fitness coach Anne Jones. And with every morning meditation, every morning affirmation, every piece of gratitude I started to surrender my expectations. I let go of how things were supposed to be and focused only on the day ahead. I stopped grasping for experiences from the past that I couldn't re-create and I stopped making plans for the future. I focused on the small things of the day and was grateful. I was getting good at that. 

And then I stopped having expectations for people to have the same comfort level as myself when it came to Covid protocols. My husband and I are very cautious and leery when it comes to social activities and public spaces; our bubble is tiny and I'm okay with that. Some people spent the summer gallivanting across the country and that was their decision because of their comfort level. And at the time it really bothered me, but now I let that go. I can't force my expectations on someone else much like they can't on me. And I started to learn to control my reactions to things since I couldn't control everything or everyone. 

But with summer gone and back to work, which is a whole new level of emotions, I'm finding myself once again struggling with the need to control everything and it's exhausting. I'm placing unrealistic expectations on myself to be the perfect teacher, wife, friend, colleague and family member. I'm having to relearn the lesson to surrender my control and expectations. And know that it is okay to be not okay. And that I am enough and I am worthy. And that I can only focus on today and give up the expectations from the past and future. 

Who knows where we will be by the end of 2020 but at least I have today and that makes me happy. 

Thinking of You

     

It was an average Saturday afternoon in October- rainy and lazy.  I look back on that day and smile, as it was the last time Lisa and I spent alone; just us gals hanging out.  All we did was lounge on her couches, wrapped in blankets, watching Property Brothers.  In the moment I didn’t know this would be the last time I'd see her outside of the hospital. And if I’d known maybe I would have said more or we could have watched something a little more memorable, but I didn’t know.  We both didn’t.

    I look back on that day and I smile as it was just how things always were with us-easy and comfortable.  Lisa was one of my friends that I could just sit and be with, no extra chatter to fill space.  We were at ease with the silence.  On camping mornings and later afternoon deck time, if it was just us, there was always moments where we didn’t need to talk.  On our camping trips Lisa and I could sit for hours quietly reading and I loved those days. 

    In 2019 I watched my friend slowly and yet so quickly pass away.  Things were good until the Spring and by Fall we all knew there wouldn’t be much time left.  We hoped there would have been, but secretly we knew she’d be gone too soon.  Somehow, we thought we’d see another Christmas and New Years with her, but we didn’t. 

    I think about her last month and the final days often because they were not how she wanted to spend them. No one would- too tired to eat and sleep, too tired to do anything really.  And then the last few weeks in the hospital.

 It’s funny how everyone says, “oh, if I knew I didn’t have lots of time left I’d…” and then we all go into elaborate plans of the last things we’d do.  As though we’d have the strengthen and energy to tick off items on our bucket list.  One last hurrah. Though when you realize there isn’t much time left it usually means you don’t have the health or the means to live the life you wanted in the end.  I know that Lisa didn’t.  There were lots of things she wanted to do with her husband before she passed that she couldn’t do. And maybe that’s the thing.  The lesson we are supposed to take away from her death.  Is that we need to life live to the fullest and live like it is our last.  These cliched adages are true. 

    I don’t have a word this year like I normally do, and I certainly don’t have resolutions, but I do know that 2020 is one of transition.  2019 brought big changes to my life- new job and loss of a dear friend.  Now I need to figure out where I fit in this new reality and how to create a life with purpose. One where I don’t shy away from the unknown or the new as I tend to do that. Trying new things, saying yes and doing things now and not later is what I want to have courage to do. 

     I end this blog post with a poem I wrote for Lisa after she passed away.  I think of her everyday and I miss her all the time. She was someone I saw almost daily and now I can only see her in the world around me.

Soliloquy of an Angel

In the soft winter morning sky

I caught a glimpse of your voice

Lilac, light and warm.

You were there

In the rays of sun stretching

Through bare tree limbs

I felt a whisper of your scent

Peonies and ocean-sweet and fresh

In the echo of the winter breeze

I held your smile

You were there.

You are scattered everywhere

In the softness of a feather floating to the ground.

In the first green bud of a starved winter.

In the twinkle of garden lights.

You are everywhere.

You left us shattered after your last breath

And now we pick up the pieces, scattered everywhere we go

Hoping to mend and feel whole once again.

You were there and you are everywhere.

 ­-- Margo Freeman

Enjoying the Journey

About a year ago I embarked on a weight loss journey.  My goal was to lose at least 30 pounds by the end of 2018, and with a day left in the calendar year I still have four more pounds to go.  So, technically I didn't reach my goal, but 26 pounds and 18 inches is nothing to scoff at.  I feel proud to have come this far in my fitness goal for the year.

And it surely wasn't a walk in the park - mind you I did a lot of walking and eventually walking turned to running.

The biggest question I got from my friends was "how did you do it? What's your secret?' No secret.  I just put my mind to it.  If anything, the fact that it was my main focus for twelve consecutive months was the secret.  I didn't go on a fad diet or cut out carbs or booze or sugar.  I learned how to portion control my food instead, exercised four days a week and enjoyed the journey.

That was the tough part; learning to enjoy the journey.  The beginning was challenging because the results weren't as quick as I hoped for.  I think it took up to six weeks to start seeing any change, but sure enough the numbers on the scale started to decrease.  And if it wasn't for my sister as my workout and dieting buddy I wouldn't have stuck with it those first six weeks.  We'd talk on the phone weekly about our progress, trouble shoot our obstacles and give one another encouragement.  And that was important to have another person keeping me accountable and lean on for support.  It also helped that my husband was very supportive and never complained about having to eat lighter meals on an occasion. And through my sister I found an online fitness group and learned exercises that upped my cardio and strength training.  So I guess having support is key in terms of sticking with it.

But learning to be positive and enjoying the ride was tricky.  With any new routine it is fun and exciting at first but soon enough the shine wears off and finding new ways to incorporate veggies into the diet or finding a new route to walk became hard. And when the weight stopping coming off (as it does when you hit a plateau) it's easy to give up.  I found the more fixated I was with counting calories and counting steps the more stressed out I was about the whole thing, especially when I noticed I gained a few pounds instead of losing them. When summer rolled in it was really hard not to freak out about gaining a few pounds back after a week away camping.  I had to come to terms with the idea that the more I stressed out the less I'd lose.  I needed to go with the flow and just keep trying, but not obsessing over every calorie. And sure enough the pounds started to trickle away again.  I was happier when I wasn't counting everything.  With the shift in focus I started to notice the slight changes in my body- I had leaner cheeks, muscle tone in my legs and arms and definition in my stomach.   Finally I was enjoying the journey.  Even with my exercise I noticed a huge change from walking for 30 mins to running further in the same time -frame.  It was remarkable.

I'm still on the journey and I don't think there will be a definite destination.  The changes I have made are lifelong, it's not a diet but a healthier lifestyle.  I'm loving the new me and I'm hoping 2019 will be just as fruitful for health as 2018 was. And I learned that it's never too late to change your life to make it healthier. 

Summer 2017

Fall 2018

Old Traditions Die Hard: 2017

       I'm finding it tricky to reflect on 2017.  When I think back on the past year there are only three big moments that stick out in my mind- Mexico trip, turning 40 and my parents moving away.  The trip and my birthday were very joyous and momentous occasions, both of which I wrote about in previous blog posts.  They were definite highlights of the year.  My parents moving away on the other hand was and still is a hard thing for me.  They moved away in June and the initial shock and sadness has worn off.  And though I miss them terribly I'm happy they are living their retirement the way they want to, in a place they dreamt of living in.  What still lingers are the deaths of old traditions; things I took for granted that will never occur again unless we live in the same town again.

      Meeting up for coffee is one thing I miss a lot.  My mom and I used to do that on a regular basis, which was an easy and quick way to catch up.  We'd meet in the same parking lot in Fort Langley and walk down the main street to the same coffee shop- The Blacksmith Bakery, and order pretty much the same  thing- coffee and bacon croissants.  Except one time I ordered a gluten free scone and I never heard the end of it, because my mom hates things that are gluten free.  But we ate it anyways.  Or the time my mom inadvertently ordered a chocolate brownie but saying Um a brownie would be nice.  The cashier thought my mom ordered one so in the end we had a brownie  and two croissants that day.  Since she left, I haven't been back. 

      I also miss Sunday night dinners with them.  My mom would cook something amazing and my dad would have this great new wine to try.  We'd eat too much and talk about everything and everyone.  My dad and my husband would catch up on sports or something like that.  It was fun and comforting.  Now in order to have coffee or a meal together we have to go visit them at their place or they have to come visit here for a few days.  And don't get me wrong that is lots of fun too but it's not the same as it used to be. 

      A tradition I'm missing today is such a silly one, but it was one I counted on each January 1st- ordering in Chinese food togerther, no matter how hung over we may be.  This is the first year they are not here for it.  I know I can order food in with just my husband, but it isn't the same.  There was something special the way my mom would always say this is the only time of year I eat this food and we'd laugh.  My dad and my husband would always go pick it up and I'd help my mom arrange the kitchen counter with serving spoons and forks.  Then when they'd bring in the bags of food we'd all say wow, looks like a lot of food maybe we shouldn't have ordered so much. And then we'd laugh again, because no matter what you have to order all the good dishes, like ginger beef, deep fried won tons, fried shrimp and rice and chow mein, and all sorts of other dishes that taste so incredible you have to order them, hence the ridiculous amount of food. 

       I know I'm bemoaning like they are gone for good, but I miss them and the little things.  I know in time this will pass and I'll have embraced the new traditions of visiting them for a few days at a time, but this is a good way to end 2017- letting old habits and emotions wash away as the new year comes in.  So here is to a new year with all sorts of new habits, traditions and possibilities while I let the old ones die off. 
 

What Does Your Gut Tell You

What Does Your Gut Tell You? That gut instinct, the feeling deep inside that whispers when a situation is not right.  Sometimes it is hard to hear that voice over what others tell you to do, or when you simply don't want to hear the truth.  But the reality is, the longer you ignore it, the louder it will become, until you have no choice but take your gut's advice. 

My gut was the one to tell me I didn't want children; that was a difficult pill to swallow living around friends and family who had children and I expected myself to just have them.  But my gut spoke up enough times for me to know in my heart child-rearing was not my path in life.  And after firmly making that decision I have never once felt I missed out on something that having a child could bring. 

More recently, I've certainly hated my guts for screaming at me to take care of my physical self.  When I hurt my SI joint over a month ago I figured it would be a quick fix- little rest, hot tub time, and a few visits with my chiropractor and massage therapist, and I'd be back on my yoga mat where I belonged.  That hasn't been the case and as a result I became beyond frustrated and angry that my body wouldn't perform how I wanted it to.  So instead of taking the advice from the specialists I pushed myself back before I was ready and low and behold I re- injured myself.  Six weeks later I'm still dealing with the pain but the difference is I realized I had to take a hiatus from yoga until I'm completely better.  I remember sitting in yoga class in tears because all I could do was sit and watch, the pain was too much to try any pose.  My gut had finally gotten through to me and with much chagrin I put my membership on hold for the first time in three years. But instead of feeling angry I feel a sense of relief.  By truly listening to my gut I have gained a sense of relief knowing this is where I'm supposed to be right now.  My instinct now is to retreat and not fight. And I'm getting better, bit by bit.  Soon I'll rejoin my community of yogis. 

Now comes to something that I've been struggling with and every Billings and so forth.  So you ask what's the big deal? Do it!  It will help your chances of getting published!  That's the goal, isn't it, who cares how.   This is true, so I did just that, I changed the names of cities and towns and some details that were very Canadian to help disguise my book as American.  You know what happened?  It didn't read authentic or true.  It felt fake. And I hate it.
time I ask my gut, it tells me to stick to my guns no matter what others say.  For a long time, years actually, I have struggled with this decision, and it invades my thoughts often when I write- Do I change the locations of my manuscript from Canadian to American?  Those who not only know me but have also been kind enough to read Marbles and Wine know how Canadian I am and the story itself.  So the answer seems natural to keep it in Canada, why not?  Well here is the rub.  In the publishing world it is really difficult to get a book published in Canada, most books are published in the U.S as they have the most well known publishing houses.  And the majority of the Women's Lit population reside in America, which means it is easier to market a book set in America.  And everyone I have spoke to in the publishing world agrees that I should change Vancouver to Seattle and Calgary to

So now I'm back where I started, do I keep it American or go back to Canadian?  Well with time to think off my yoga mat, swimming laps in a pool, where I can let my mind wander for an hour, I listened to my gut.  It has been telling me the same thing for years about this quandary.  Keep it Canadian.  It doesn't matter if a major publishing house takes it; it might better suited at a local publisher in Vancouver and my West Coast audience will appreciate the local flare and shout- outs to familiar locations.  With that decided I guess I'll have to edit once again. 

I'm 40'and I Couldn't Be Happier

I'm 40 and I couldn't be happier. Most cringe at the idea but I for one embrace this new age.  I see it as a rite of passage, or an opportunity to embrace the person I have become and say goodbye to the people and things that don't serve me.

I spent my 20s having fun but also lost.  Many moments I'd never want to relive. My 30s were spent figuring out who I am and my 40s will be loving just that person.  For the past decade I've experienced significant life events that have shaped who I am.  The biggest being my divorce nine years ago.  I left what appeared to be a cookie cutter charmed life- new townhouse, fancy vacations, and a husband who loved me.  However under the surface was a myriad  of problems; long story short I asked for a separation followed quickly by a divorce.  It was a defining moment in my life.  The hardest decision I've ever made. And when I look back now it was the best decision. It taught me that I am damn strong and that I can be independent.  Before then I never lived in my own and when I left my ex I had to rent a basement suite and live alone.  That experience taught me how to be okay with just myself.  It gave me time to figure out what I wanted in life and to not settle for anything less.

When I met my current husband we spent the better past of our first six months together discussing the "big 5" topics all couples should iron out before they make a serious commitment- money, lifestyle, kids, future goals and sex.  Neither of us wanted to waste time tiptoeing around these subjects only to find out we were not on the same page and it was too late. Through this time I came to fully see the future I wanted and kids were not in that picture.  As it turned out Scott felt the same way in all the other aspects too.

Not having children was the next biggest decision in my life.  But choosing not to be a mother in a kidcentric society has not proved to be easy, especially when it comes to friendships.  Many of you who have followed my blog know that I have struggled to maintain friendships after kids are brought into the mix.  Some have shifted and lasted and some did not survive.  All the women in my life have children, expect for two.  And most have young children which makes it more challenging.  And because of this I found myself gravitating more to the women in my life who are passed the baby/toddler stage.  And though I miss seeing my other friends I'm not sad about it.

Now that I am 40 I don't regret not having kids.  This was a huge concern for a lot of people in my life but not me.  I don't miss it.  And another thing I have noticed about me is that I have become bolder.  Many people I work with say I exude more confidence and get out of my comfort zone more often.  I speak my mind more both at work and and in my personal life too.  This newly found attitude has led me to say when I don't care for something or don't want to do something and not be sorry about it.   And I have been able to cut out a lot of drama in my life too.

At my 40th birthday last month I took a moment and drank in the party that was happening around me.  I felt so blessed.  In the garden oasis that my husband, family and friends created with magical lighting, decorations and amazing food, were so many of my closest people having a good time.  And what struck me was that not only did they want to be there to celebrate so many of them wanted to pitch in and help.  I didn't have to do a thing.  I am so fortunate to have these people in my life that care for me as much as I do them.

Thanks all!

I'm so excited to see what 40 brings into my life.

Adult Only in Mexico's Hard Rock Heaven

Me and Elvis

On an early morning in March we flew out of sodden Vancouver and landed in sunny Rivera Mayan. It had been four years since our last beach holiday and this was our first adult only vacation,  Add the snowiest winter in decades in Fraser|Valley it was no wonder we beyond elated to be in Mexico.

Dark hues, crisp steel and rock memorabilia met us at every turn when we entered The Hard Rock Resort.  Like rock royalty, from the moment we entered the lush resort, we wanted for nothing.  With a cold margarita in our hands we walked into our luxurious ocean view suite to find a chilled bottle of champagne and desserts, congratulating us on our anniversary and my up coming birthday. Both were presents from our travel agent. That night, after a lovely meal we strolled the moonlit beaches and discovered a martini bar on the ocean,  I adventurously tried a rosemary and cumber drink that sent me to heaven.

The next morning I marveled at sun streaming through the window and thought yes I am living in heaven, which was exactly what this side of the resort was called. The Hard Rock has two sides, one for families and one for adults only.  And I had to admit I was thrilled to not have to listen or watch kids running around being disruptive during my vacation. So my goal was to spend as much time as possible on the Heaven side. This proved to be easy as everything we needed, including the spa was on our side.

We began our first full day with a couples massage. Where we were waited on during the entire time in the spa- from the change room, to the hydro therapy room to the actual massage. It was sublime. So during the 10 day stay we visited five more times.

Another perk we took advantage of were our personal assistants. At first we felt awkward having an assistant do things for us as we are very independent people, but after the first day it was amazing. Tony and Daniel booked all our spa appointments, dinner reservations, Bali beach beds, and made sure we were very comfortable in our room with extra creature comforts. And to top it off they surprised us by preparing a romantic bath for when we arrived back to our room one night.  On another occasion they filled the room with balloons for my birthday, which for me was magical.

Main beach with Bali beds

Most of our days were spent laying at the beach.  We quickly learned that reserving Bali beds, which are luxurious beach lounge chairs that are in a covered structure, were the best way to enjoy the hot days.  Having a place for shade or a comfortable bed to relax on after swimming or snorkeling made the days even heavenlier. And what put it over the top was the food and drink service.  Fresh lobster, prawns, and fruit appetizers with chilled wine took the experience to the next level.  On the days we didn't get a bed we hung by the pool or cooled down in one of the cool tubs, which appeared to be hot tubs but were filled with cold water.  My husband was a little more adventurous than I as he tried scuba diving and deep sea fishing, while I read and people watched.

Our private beach

Nights were centered around watching the live bands before drinks in the night club or a quieter time back at the martini bar.  One night we ventured into the actual club where the music and dancing took place, and it was the most bizarre set up I'd ever seen.  There was an actual pool in the middle of the dance floor.  We didn't go in but there were a few inebriated "boys" taking a dip in their dress clothes.

Scott Fishing 

Ten days in heaven was truly out of this world; a trip of a life time.  I hope one to be able to go back.

2016: Oh What A Year

2016 was the year of rebirth, strength, and patience. Not much took place in January or February, expect enjoying the fruits of our labors with our kitchen and house renovations.  They were all wrapped up by the end of winter.  Then a huge change occurred- my husband made a business decision that finally brought forth work and home balance.  Over the last three years he has been building his business and it has been a struggle.  But when he refocused his business plan he found balance and in turn created a harmonious home life.  Not saying that our life was inharmonious before but now life is happier and easier.

 Thus began the chapter of rebirth for 2016.  When I look back now I think this turn in event spurned me to reconsider two aspects of my life and gain better control- one being work.  I ended June utterly physically and mentally drained.  Part of this was a low iron and B12 count, which took many months to rectify. Another was my teaching load.  Trying to balance junior and senior programs was not working for me, there was too much juggle between the two.  So when my department head asked what I wanted to teach next year I bitter sweetly gave up the juniors.  I love teaching grade 8's and 9's but the way the program was heading I knew I couldn't keep up the pace, so I bowed out, looking to focus on seniors.  This was the best decision I could make for my sanity.  I finished 2016 feeling less stressed than the previous year.  

Also in terms of rebirth I let go of relationships that stopped serving me.  I spent too much time hoping and waiting for certain people to make time for me; saying they wanted to but couldn't find the time.  The way I see it if you really want to see someone then you make the time.  And once I finally let them go I opened myself to others who I truly enjoy spending time with.  And I'm not sure if I would have done this if I hadn't mindfully cut ties with other people. 

Jumping back to late Spring, my husband and I ventured to Fraserway RV show to look around with a few friends and left with a new trailer.  Thus sparking the glamping bug in me.  We ended up doing six camping trips all together, even one in November for Cornucopia Wine Festival in Whistler. 

Summer flew by with trips to the lake, and one special, fun-filled trip to visit my sister and her family in Drayton Valley.  We had lots of laughs and silly times together, like going to the beach for a day, eating ice cream cones the size of our heads, watching Adventures in Babysitting (new and old versions), and of course my sister and I staying up all night long chatting. 

In between trips I enjoyed my time at home.  This chapter is fondly titled Strength and Patience.  At the start of summer I became obsessed with American Ninja Warrior.  This strength and agility based obstacle course reality show inspired my to want to be stronger and more fit.  My idol from the show is Jessie Graff, who is incredibly strong.  My mantra for the summer was What would Jessie Graff Do?  This question helped me to stay focused on eating healthy and working out.  By the end of summer I had lost 15 pounds and felt invigorated.  However I injured my shoulder in early summer, and instead of letting it heal (which Jesse would have done) I pushed myself and it took over four  months to heal it, thus preventing me to reach my goal of defined arm muscles.  The hardest part of recovering was simply letting my body do just that.  It took many set backs for me to realize I needed to be patient with my body. Eventually I'll reach my goal: I now know it will just take time.  

September was the start a wonderful school year.  October boasted a thanksgiving camping trip with the neighbors, and November as mentioned earlier noted a trip to Whistler.  Rain happened for most of the Fall and so with December here a cold snap has stunned our neck of the woods with lots of snow. 

All in all it was a fabulous year with more adventures to come in 2017.  

Yes, I'm Still Childfree

Through work and other various functions, I've been meeting a lot of new people lately, and the number one question is still do you have kids?  A societal norm, especially for women my age.  Most women in their late thirties have at least one if not two kids.  But I don't.  And it's so interesting to see people's reactions when I reply no.  Men tend to simply accept it and don't try to analyze or qualify my answer in any means. They get it. But women are different, they judge. Some grimace and nod their heads and say don't worry you will one day.  It takes time they say.  I sigh and explain that I don't want them and never really have.  If I tell people that I'm a teacher then most times it shuts them up, because in their eyes having students makes up for it.  But if I don't mention that tidbit of info I get shock and sometimes preachy responses; like I'll regret it or that I'm missing out.

Missing out, I want to say, on what? a person who takes over your entire life, sleepless nights, whining, crying, grimy hands, someone who will destroy my house, and possibly my marriage. No thanks.  I'm not missing out.

And I love it when women try to convince me at a party that I should have kids because it will be different with my own, and that somehow I'll feel differently holding my new born.  As though my choice, which took years in the making, is going to be suddenly over- turned by a woman gripping a wine glass, who knows nothing about me. It's the same women who never ask why I don't want kids, who go into a myriad reasons why I should. It's my job as a woman, I need to fulfill my duty, my societal obligation. And my favourite: I'll never experience what it's like to give birth or breast feed. I've never swam with crocodiles but I can honestly say I don't need to experience it to know I don't want to.

I'm sure for women who truly wanted children they don't regret their decision. But let's be honest there are women out there who are regretting their decision about motherhood.  It's almost impossible to change your mind once you become a mom.  These are the ones who thought motherhood was Pinterest activities and cute Facebook posts about little Johnny. They didn't realize the enormity of the job and how life consuming it is. There has to be women out there who long for their old lives back.  A time when they'd go out with friends at a moments notice, take a nap, or literally do as they pleased  without a worry. Trust me as an outsider it is astonishing to see how much people change when they have kids. There isn't much that we have in common, or that is what it seems as they only talk about the baby and only about the baby.  It's like the rest of their lives literally disappeared.

To all the people out there who think I should have children because they are worried about who is going to take care of me when I'm wrinkled and grey; I'm not worried so you shouldn't be.

Rest assured my decision was a long time in the making and I have many reasons for foregoing motherhood.  And since most don't ask and assume I hate kids (which I don't) I thought I'd end this post with my top 3 reasons, in case you were wondering:

3. Over Population: already there are too many humans on this planet and since we are living longer there certainly doesn't need to be any extra, especially ones that are unwanted.

2. Love My Life: this sounds selfish but I do love my lifestyle.  I feel I have cultivated a life that I adore and I'm always searching for ways to better myself.  It took a long time to get to know me and I don't want to lose that sense of self.  I let that happen once and I'll never do it again.

1. A Lasting Marriage: though this isn't a guarantee I think without kids my husband and I have a better shot of succeeding than couples who are parents. I've put my marriage as my top priority and I know I couldn't do that with kids.

A Rooster, A Baby Shower, and Family Shenanigans

June flew by in a whirl wind of stress so I was more than ready to kick off my summer break with time at Shuswap lake with my family. They say family is who makes you feel at home and not only do my biological family feel that way, but also my lake family too.  These are people I have known my entire life and who know me the best. It started years ago before I was born, my parents met this amazing group of people who became their best friends. These people had kids around the same time my parents did and in turn they became my other sisters and brothers. My parents friends became my aunts and uncles; people I can depend on and learn from.

So this weekend was nothing like I had spent at the lake in years. There were some strange occurrences that I would have never predicted.  The first being wild life that dictated how we operated in our daily lives at the cabin. The big brown bear that occupied the golf course and air strip meant that we had to be on alert in our yard, as we are situated between both locations. My nieces and my mom had a close call their first day there. Then the rooster, yes I said rooster, who was taking stake in the woods behind our cabin made sure we got up with the crack of dawn. My husband joked he was going to go up there and take care of it after the first early morning wake up call. I'm sure our dog would have loved the hunt.

The second weird thing that happened was my sister and I locked ourselves out of the cabin at 2:00 am. We were having one of our marathon chats on the deck and when we finally wrapped it up in the wee hours of morning we figured out all the doors to the cabin were locked. (I locked the last one). So while giggling our heads off we determined my sister could climb into the open window of her room. Something tells me we will never forget that late night gossip session.

The rest of the weekend wasn't strange but it was unexpected. We attended the best baby shower ever. I can say this as I traditionally hate going to them so this one surprised me. It was more of a party with the whole family, delicious food, sangria, champagne, a beautiful garden and a terrific couple who are about to have a baby. We ended the party with a spontaneous swim in the lake. I recall standing at the top of the embankment before I made my way down to the beach and took in the scenery. There before me, minus a few of our lake family, were the people I care so much about.  They were laughing, swimming and mingling on the dock.  To top it off Scott brought Triggs down for a swim and he had a blast.

Later that night another memorable moment happened.  Scott and my youngest niece chased one another in the moonlit yard playing a game of tickle monster and then before bed they coloured while discussing the art of camping. People worry that Scott and I are missing out for not having children of our own. I like to disagree. We have many children in our lives and lots of lovely family to keep us company. This weekend was a testament to that belief. I wish I had pictures to share but alas I got so caught up in the fun there was no time.

All Is Coming.

"All Is Coming" is an expression one of my yoga instructors taught me awhile ago.  Essentially it means that one day the thing you desire or hope for will happen.  This is important in yoga because most yogis strive to achieve certain poses which take time to do, so the idea that all is coming helps with patience.

Back in April I used this mantra several times during my 5 week serious yoga student immersion class.  When I first entertained the idea of doing such a series back in January I was apprehensive and yet curious.  Could I do this level of practice? Knowing who was going to lead the classes I recognized that it was going to be very challenging but at the same time very rewarding.  I knew it would not be easy and at times frustrating, uncomfortable and would leave me feeling sore.  Though after practicing yoga at a certain level for two years I knew in January I needed to take my practice to the next level.  I needed a challenge and a push to help me get to a level where I wanted to be, where I could entertain some higher level postures without feeling defeated. So when I heard about this immersion series, where for once a week for five weeks I'd get a glimpse of what yoga teacher training looked like, I knew this is what would take my practice to the next level.  But at the same time I was freaked out because what if I couldn't keep up with the class? What if I couldn't do the poses? What if I failed? What if?

For those who know me, I play the what if game anytime there is uncharted territory and all my what ifs are negative, leaving me imagining worst case scenarios.  Yet this time something inside of me said if I didn't take the risk I'd regret it. So I signed up and made a commitment. The weeks leading up to the first class I imagined what the class was going to look like; I imagined best case scenarios, like me getting into full wheel and crow. Imagined worst case scenarios like being forced to do a head stand (this scares me to death by the way). I imagined not being able to keep up.

On my first night I told myself that I was going to try to do everything I possibly could.   was going to repeat All Is Coming when my body couldn't twist and bend a certain way, and I was going to have fun. I got to class early, set up my mat and my journey began. Within a few minutes I knew I had arrived and was apart of something so special.  Everyone was in the same mind set; we were all here to learn. We were a community of serious yogis. It was so cool. By the end of the first class, where I had never worked so hard in a yoga class before, where I was attempting moves and holding plank for what seemed like forever (30 seconds.  Don't laugh, you try it and see how you do.) I felt so elated that I did it. I survived and I couldn't wait to come back.

On my last night, when we were all done, laying in Savasana, I realized I didn't master any of the poses I thought I would and I was never forced to do head stand but rather encouraged to try. Even though what I expected to happen didn't I realized that wasn't the point of the course.  The point was to realize my limits, stop beating myself up when I couldn't do something, and lastly how to be mindful while on my mat.  One day I'll master the poses, but that isn't the point.  The journey is the point.  And knowing that All Is Coming keeps me going.

Living Your Best Life

Last Sunday as I was sipping on a glass of Merlot, savoring the oakey notes, in the warm spring sun on the Township 7 patio in Langley, Scott turned to me and said this is the life. In truth, this is our life; we are fortunate to be living the lifestyle we want, with one another. In saying thus we don't drink wine at a winery every Sunday but we do try to make the most of our weekends. Our weeks are usually busy with work and keeping up with the household, so our weekends are the only real quality time we have together, until just recently. 

I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but between the utter chaos of January -Spring break some strange shift occurred. Suddenly out of no where, Scott was home earlier from work than ever before and had more energy and thus provided more time together.

Last year was extremely trying with his hernia and keeping his business going.  We sort of went into survival mode.  When summer hit we found ourselves busy with our trip to Iceland, and planning a renovation, which took over our lives until early January. My work had been usually demanding this year and before I knew it spring had snuck up on us and like a switch everything changed. The air softened, became more fragrant, time slowed, and Scott and I found ourselves living what we describe as the best life. The new rhythm to our life was one we could embrace. Somehow Scott found work/life balance and I had spring break. Now back at work I have realized I need to find a better balance with my course load and I hoping by next September I will find that. In the meantime I'll focus on my home life with Scott. Finally after a long winter we can make plans for the weekends and enjoy our haven in the Fraser Valley- wine tasting, lunches on patios, antique browsing in Fort Langley, and dinners on our deck with our friends. Life is good, actually it is the best. Some of the recent high lights this spring has been celebrating my parents' 45th wedding anniversary in Fort Langley, with my aunt and uncle, spending time with our friends for dinners, including a memorable night with our God son and his parents, and Easter with the family in Shuswap.  

So whether you are kid- free like us, or living with children's laughter, you need to find out how to live your best life now, because you never know when things can change.  

Strength

Strength! It's my word for 2016. Most would interrupt the word as in the physical sense that I'm strengthening my physical body.  Lots of truth in that, but I'm stretching tit o mean my mind, and my relationships. I'd say in the last six months or so I have let my body go and some of my friendships. I have turned inward for too long and now I feel stagnated.  As an introvert this can happen as it more comfortable to draw inward than extend ourselves in social situations.  And in doing so I have lost contact with women who fulfill me.  It's one thing to see them in larger group settings but another in same gender settings or even one on one.

It took for a friend of mine to go through a divorce to make me realize I had been neglecting our friendship. Over the Winter holidays I went to visit her in her new place and she mentioned that her divorce made her see who her real friends are. I made the cut, but I felt I could have spent more time with her. Her comment also made me think about how many weak ties I have with some people who mean quite a bit to me.  In 2016 I want to strengthen bonds with a core group of women than spread myself thin with multitudes of friends. Stronger is better.

Other relationships I want to strengthen are with my nieces and my parents on both sides.  I feel I don't spend enough time with them.  My nieces it's tough as they live in a different province, but technology can help with that.  And I want to see my parents and in-laws, who all live close by, more often. Who knows when their circumstances might change.

My other focus is my physical strength.  For years I have been caught in the never ending losing weight gaining weight cycle.  So concerned about the size of my stomach or thighs that I never realized the physical strength and beauty of my body.  And since I have sciatica it makes it nearly impossible to lift weights, but I have learned that yoga can be my strengthening tool for both my body and mind. I'm excited to challenge myself with some new classes and instructors, and keep the ones who serve me best to help me take my practise to a new level.

Here's to a strong 2016.

2015 Reflection

Last night we rang the new year in with vigorous and zealous delight. 2016 could not have begun soon enough for Scott and I. Though there were some tremendously joyous times with friends and family they flickered swiftly and we were left with rancorous periods of time that dragged like molasses.  Here were some of the highs and lows of 2015 for us.

#1 In Sickness and In Health
From January to May all our energy focused on trying to get Scott hernia surgery. Between dealing with BC's underfunded medical system and pain management we nearly lost or minds. I felt helpless in the whole situation; just watching the love of my life go through so much pain with no certainty that it would ever end. Finally after months of waiting Scott ended up with near emergency surgery thanks to a friend of ours who called in a favor.

We let ourselves have a break in March with our annual long weekend trip to Sechelt. Massages, a stroll on the beach, eating at The Lighthouse pub and one fine dinner, at the place we said our vows- Rockwater Lodge, fit the bill. This reprieve helped us solider on until surgery.



#2 Traveling
By the summer we needed to recharge our batteries. July kicked off with a trip with our friends to Shuswap lake for sun, fun and lots of laughs. And of course an enormous amount of scrumptious food.

Then Scott and I embarked on our Icelandic adventure; a 10 day road trip that reignited a spark in us.  We saw things we could never imagine seeing, ate some of the best food in the world, and fell in love with this awe inspiring country and its people.  My four part blog series certainly captured the passion for Iceland.

Once home I ventured off again to visit with my family back in Shuswap. Went tubing with my nieces, which was something I haven't done in years.

In November the Brookswood crew vacationed in Whistler for Cornucopia Wine
and Food festival. An epic first vacation together. Thinking this will happen again in 2016.  Then I visited my sister and her lovely family in Drayton Valley. It was what I needed as the chaos at home was a brewing.







#3 Bittersweet Renovations
One hot summer night, over a bottle of wine we entertained the notion of a kitchen and flooring renovation. Even though it was exciting to start this house transformation it did not happen easily. Delays on the kitchen cabinets pushed time lines out and before we knew it the time Scott had off to do the renovation disappeared. So we had to work on the renovations during the  weekends.  Thank goodness for a few helping hands along the way.  I learned a lot about large renovations, like they never go as planned, though the mess and chaos seem endless it is worth it when it's done, and that you need to be organized. People joke that the fine renovation dust that covers your house is called divorce dust. We didn't come close to that during the renovation but there were some tense moments, and in true Margo fashion a few tears.

While the renovations took place life continued to move along.  I started my 10th year at Sullivan Heights, Triggs had surgery on his neck, and Scott had to entertain new clients as his main one went belly up.  And sadly one of my aunts passed away.

There we have it. 2015 all wrapped up. Here is hoping 2016 is even more magical, with lots of love and health. Happy New Year my dear friends and family.

Adult Only Section, Please

Picture yourself with the one you love, sitting at a white linen covered table for two, candle light glowing, gazing into each others eyes, enjoying an exquisite feast, when all of a sudden two screaming toddlers hurl themselves down the aisle of this well appointed restaurant. Poof romance gone; date night ruined. This scene happens all to often to my husband and I that we are getting to the point where we don't know where to go for a romantic dinner, as kids seem to be at every restaurant and any given time.  This doesn't mean all kids who are at fine dining places act like this, but there seems to be a trend of young children eating at eateries that do not cater to such a young clientele.  Places where there isn't a change table in the washroom, no kids menu or high chairs.  Case in point, my birthday dinner at Eighteen 27 in Fort Langley, last year.  We arrived at 8:00 pm and were seated next to a couple with an over tired baby, who was throwing his food on the floor and screaming.  Parents were sitting there pretending this wasn't going on.  Later in the night I met 'mom' in the restroom and she complains to me that there isn't a change table so she changed her son in the middle of the washroom floor.  I rolled my eyes and proceeded to wash my hands and leave.

My husband and I lead busy lives so our date nights are precious to us, and since we don't have children we don't want to be disturbed by them when we go out for a nice dinner.  In order to avoid this we try to eat at expensive establishments, where one would not find kid friendly atmosphere or food; it doesn't help. We try eating later when little Johnny and Suzy should be in bed; it doesn't help. Our only saving grace were pubs; not the most romantic of places, but at least no one would be throwing a tantrum at the next table, while I'm engaging in an adult conversation.  But ever since the new liquor laws in BC have come into effect kids can eat almost anywhere. Long gone are the pub style breakfasts, where I used to be able to drink my mimosa and eat my 'eggs benny' without a whiny kid complaining he doesn't like the food.  No kidding he doesn't; it didn't come in a pirate boat with a toy.

I can understand that parents want to eat in nice places too, but you must consider the other guests when you bring your children along on date night.  Can they sit quietly for the entire meal without throwing food, a fit or running around? If not, then don't take them to the hottest spot in town, where couples are having a night out. I can guarantee my evening will be ruined when little Johnny is bored without his colouring book or i-Pad and he tells the whole restaurant.  Or worse yet he runs around bumping into patrons chairs or the servers.  Its' rude and disrespectful.

My date nights are just as important as your nights out too so please respect that.

In Memory of Joy

As the trees surrender their leaves and spiders silently spin their webs it is time to slow our pace as nature does and turn inside.  It the season of reflection.  And this past Thanksgiving weekend, amongst the yard work and consumption of turkey and pumpkin pie I found myself thinking of my late auntie Joy.  She untimely went heaven on Oct 3 2015.  She was the only one of my aunts that I call auntie.  This terms holds a softer tone most fitting for Joy.  She was more of a grandmother to my sister and me growing up as I believe she thought of us as her grandchildren.  I didn't know her past and what she was like as a young woman.  I only knew her in her later years. And sadly in the last handful of years I only saw her a handful of times.  My most vivid memories of Joy are all from when I was a little girl and our family would visit Joy in Winnipeg.  I can still recall her scent,- gentle like a Spring morning, and comforting like a hug from a friend.  There are flashes of memories of her that flit through my heart making me smile when I recall them- her reading to my sister and I in a huge comfy chair in her living room.  My favourite story she read to us was Billy Goats Gruff because she did the character voices, and though I'd get a little scared I felt safe in her arms on her lap.  Late at night, snugly tucked in our beds she'd sit on the edge patting and rubbing our backs until we drifted off to dreamland, and while we sweetly slept she'd wash and iron our clothes.

Joy always pleased and took care of everyone and I never once saw her angry or upset.  She made play dough and paste and huge amounts of popcorn to keep us happy.  But now when I recall those times the thing that makes me happy is the memory of her voice.  I can faintly hear it in the back of my memory, like an old tune I can almost remember the words to.  I don't have many memories of Joy the older I got, except for 10 years ago when I was getting married for the first time.  She lent me her pearls as my Something Borrowed, and at the end of the night, when I tried to return them she refused to take them back.  She said they looked beautiful on me and that I should keep them.  When I wear them now I think of Joy and wish I could hold her hand one more time.  Hear her laugh one more time.  Smell her perfume one more time.  See her milky blue eyes one more time.

So many of us will miss her forever and remember her always.  I love you Joy.

Iceland: Land of the Midnight Sun- Part 4 of 4 East Meets West

Before we got to Akureyi we stopped at this tiny town called Egilsstadir, which is just past the Eastern Fjords.  The drive here was exquisite, unfortunately I got a bit car sick due to the very windy roads.  We stopped a few times to look at an orange lighthouse and a cliff side beach.  There were many small villages along the way we did not visit, but I've been told they are amazing to see.  I was just too nauseous.  Before we hit Egilsstar we did stop at tiny roadside gas station for lunch.  I had to do a double take when we walked in as the young man behind the counter was a spitting image of my father when he was about 14 years old.  That was one thing I found so neat travelling in this country was that I could see parts of my family in the people we met along the way.  Being from Icelandic decent I felt close to the residents, like I belonged there.

Stormur Cottage

Just outside of Egilsstadir is a small area called Vllanes, which is where our cottage for night was located.  Stomur Cottages is on a horse farm, surrounded by fields and surprisingly, lots of trees.  We stayed one night in this tiny, cozy cottage, with a small kitchen and our own washroom.

The next morning we headed to Akureyi, but not before stopping at several waterfalls.

Borgarnes Harbour

Our Car

On the other coast is another charming town called Borgarnes, which we stayed for a night.  It was deemed as a very romantic place, and I could see why when we strolled along the shore line in the late evening, when it was dusk.  We arrived in the early afternoon so that we could go through the Borgarfjordur Museum.  They have the neatness display there with hundreds of pictures of Icelandic children in various day to day activities, dating back to the 1800's.  I loved walking through it as it reminded me of when I was younger and I'd visit my Amma, and she'd take out all these really old black and white photographs of the family, dating back to when she was a child.  So if you have time in Borgarnes then you have to see this exhibit.  Another place you have to go to there is the Settlement Restaurant for lunch or dinner.  The service and food blew it out of the water for us.

Borgarnes 

The Perlan

The next day we drove back to Reykjavik through this underwater tunnel that spanned 6 km.  Not being exactly comfortable in enclosed spaces I was feeling a little edgy, but that could have also been because it reminded of a scene in the TV series The Walking Dead, where they are in a tunnel full of zombies.  Once back in the capital we visited The Perlan, which is gorgeous glassed domed structure, where you can view the city.  After that we headed to our last accommodation in Iceland- Icelandair Marina Hotel, right in the Old Harbour.  This hotel was modern and artsy.  There were wooden sculptures of people and cool, little rooms with funky funrniture to sit and relax in.  Somehow we lucked out and got a corner room, with a balcony over looking the harbor, which was so interesting to look at, as they were fixing large ships and tons of people walking around.

Since we were feeling a little sad as this was our last night we dressed up and spent the night in the hotel lounge- Slippbarinn. They had an extensive cocktail and beer menu, as well as some fun appetizers, like lobster flatbread.  We stayed up late soaking in the last little bit of Iceland that we could, and actually saw the sun set.

The next morning we headed back to the airport and boarded a plane back to Vancouver.  Overall this trip was something I'll never forget.  Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes as I loved being in Iceland so much.  I feel as though we only just scratched the surface of the icy, volcanic, rock.  And there was no way I could have done it without my best travel companion, my loving husband Scott.

View from our room Iceland Air Hotel Marina