Sometimes Suicidal Mama

An invitation to something new…

2010-01-08T10:11:00.000-08:00

It's just become evident to me that I can't do everything! Wow, what a revelation! I can't believe I've spent so many years of my life (partially) believing that I can. Sorry, I'll try to stop doing that!

Since my last post here a lot of things have been happening… and I'm going to try to give you a window into that part of my life by inviting you to my new blog, BUDDY BREATHING.

Buddy Breathing… a blog about hope, is where I will be spending my blogging energies for now.

Please come and join me there, and thank you for following this blog and commenting and for encouraging me. Your words speak life into me!

Peace, out.

Lesley-Anne

The view from here

2009-12-22T14:06:00.000-08:00

photography by Lynda Norman

It happened this morning as I was caught up in my 'to do list', driving from one place to another, father-in-law Bud in tow, that I chose to take the slightly longer, more scenic drive home. And, as I headed from suburban strip mall and convenience food surroundings around the first traffic circle, then over the bridge and around the second traffic circle, the buildings became rural in their setting and character, the snow dusted mountains suddenly visible on the horizon and I breathed into my empty lungs… space, vista, and a bit of perspective.

Bud said to me, "This is a good way to go home… less traffic." and I agreed. Inspired by his words, I launched into a little sermon on the value of views, and how little they seem to be considered in planning terms these days. How the fish in the ditch are considered, the density of the buildings are planned, the curve of the road designed to fit the speed of the vehicles travelling on it for both safety and traffic flow reasons, yet the experience of the traveller seems a byproduct rather than a proactive, planned thing.

Back in University when I was studying to become a Landscape Architect, 'Visual Analysis' was an important part of the planning process. View corridors, positive and negative views, procession, scenic byways, parkways, and various other design considerations involving roadways and the experience of travelling on them, were taken into account. Any proposed development considered visual impacts as well, and while that is still true to some extent today, I wonder what happened to the planning of roads and highways?

This fall I excitedly awaited the completion of a 'Recreational Corridor' along a roadway near where we live. I anticipated the addition of trees, benches, grass, planting… things that would encourage pedestrians and cyclists to experience added value to the adjacent land uses… some rural, some recreational, some residential. My shock came when the corridor was finally complete… with black chain link fence along it's entirety, and asphalt paving from road curb to chain link fence… and not one living thing in a swath about 3 m wide and 5 km long! The experience will now be, for everyone including those travelling in vehicles, a wasteland along what used to be a picturesque section of roadway. And I have to wonder how this could have happened?

Perhaps my writing today is more of a rant than anything else, but I'm just concerned that the less tangible, less weighty things like beauty of form, open space, perspective, vernacular landscape, are the very things that are often overlooked or obliterated for reasons of function, monetary return, or politics. And it will hurt all of us in the end. If we don't stand for something, something will be lost. Somehow public policy must be changed, and the value of 'sense of place' must be held up as something to cherish, something worth saving, something worthy.

Or, we can continue to grow and change by focusing only on efficiency, productivity, function, and forget about the soul taming, grounding pursuit and choice of slowing down to smell the flowers, or enjoy the view.

Peace, out!

Lesley-Anne

Harvest… eventually

2009-12-08T09:12:00.000-08:00

I just got in from doing a little drive-by delivery of Christmas cards… probably could have saved myself some time if I had, 1. figured out how to email graphics and text from home, or 2. used snail mail and planned far enough ahead to ensure delivery was on time.

Anyway, with our annual Christmas Caroling Party under two weeks away, I though I'd better drive the invites and cards to our friends and give them enough advance warning. Hubby says I'm too late already, and should call everyone… but that's just not the same as receiving a paper invite, I think.

As I was driving one direction along Lakeshore Road past the Cedar Creek Winery, I noticed bins in the vineyard, and it wasn't until I was returning that I noticed that there were people in the vines, bundled up in winter garb… and then I knew why. Last night the sky was clear, temperatures dove to -20 C, and that made it the perfect time to harvest the ice wine grapes! I'm sure those workers were out in the dark… maybe even all night, and what I saw was the remaining few rows of grapes still being harvested. It was a quintessential winter Okanagan scene, and it got me thinking.

Not being an expert in ice wine production, I only know a limited amount about the process. But, it's clear to me that the ice wine grapes are left on the vine long after all other wine grapes are harvested. And I'm sure as those grapes hang there through fall and into winter, they are nibbled on by birds, and the leaves fall off exposing them to the elements, and the vines get a little brittle, and the grapes themselves begin to shrivel up and become less than appealing looking. Still they hang there waiting…

And suddenly, without much warning at all, the weather changes and the temperature drops, and it's a perfect combination of time and circumstances for harvest. The call goes out to the workers… get ready… come… it's harvest time!!! And so they come.

Maybe it's this middle aged part of my life that causes me to reflect on things that would normally just pass me by… or maybe God really does speak to me through grapes and birds and flowers and my children and relationships and circumstances? But I can see in those grapes a reflection of my life.

Perhaps you too can relate to this? The days pass by, the years pass by, and many grapes are harvested, made into different varieties of award winning wine, enjoyed, and still I cling to the vine wondering when I will be useful, when I will be harvested. Protective layers of leaves fall off, and I begin to see signs of aging, withering, even shriveling, and still I wait, questioning my circumstances and purpose and worth. I cling, sometimes tentatively, to the vine… and wait.

Then, suddenly one night the temperature drops, and the vineyard owner sends out his message… come… it's harvest time… and then I finally know what it's all been about… this waiting and wondering and questioning and aging… and finally this freezing… it's about the transformation of a quite ordinary grape into something tempered and unique and sweet and wonderful!

That day, harvest day, may not be on this earth, although I hope in part that it is. For me, it might be when something is revealed that I must take a stand on because of my faith in God. Or, it could be watching what God does with my children's lives, because of seeds of faith and passion. Or, it might just be hanging onto the vine no matter what circumstances I'm faced with. Or, harvest might be when I finally get to see Jesus face to face. But I have to hope in the harvest, believe enough to keep hanging onto the true vine long enough to see the day.

Just a few thoughts as I consider the taste of ice wine… cool, smooth, sweet, lingering, and full of the flavour of eternity.

Lesley-Anne

Reacting vs. responding

2009-12-07T10:31:00.000-08:00

In a nutshell, relating to people is very very hard. There are so many dynamics involved. Words can be taken one way or another. Facial and/or body expressions can be misinterpreted. Tone of voice can evoke positive or negative reactions. Even the ability to 'understand' one another is complex.

So, what's a girl to do with all of this? Hormones aside (is that even possible) I desire to communicate well, and to convey my messages clearly. Why does it have to be so hard! Sometimes I think I'd be happier if I just stayed here, behind my computer screen, rather than trying to make my way in the real world. What a silly thing to consider. Of course I have to get 'out there', but I need a healthy dose of courage to do so.

If you are anything like me, then you too might have some of these same inter-relational challenges. Whether it's communicating with your spouse, your children, your friends, or the various people you come in contact with each day, there's an overabundance of lessons to be potentially learned about relating to one another. And I'm pretty dense sometimes when it comes to lessons. But once in a blue moon I get it right. And maybe with age and 'wisdom' I'm getting it right more often than wrong… maybe??? I can't say for sure.

Take this morning for example. We've been anticipating the arrival of our carpet for weeks. Selecting the right colour, texture, price point was a process in itself (oh, fyi, we are finally finishing our basement after 10 years of raw drywall and concrete). So, when the order was placed and the installation date set, there was much excitement in our home. The kids can hardly wait to have a little spreading out space… not just for them, but certainly a place to hang out with friends that's somewhat separate from the adult spaces upstairs. The basement (I've tried to come up with a better name than that… any suggestions?) will have that kid space plus a guest room that has been pre-booked for the entire Christmas Season.

The carpet arrived two weeks ago… the first carpet, that is. It was damaged by a forklift in transit, and sent back to the factory. We re-ordered and waited. The second carpet arrived this morning, and I knew something was wrong when John, the installer, called me downstairs to "take a look at something". The fibers were 'bent' and 'puddled' (according to John) and the result was a huge 8 foot circle of dis-coloured carpet. My heart sank.

We are making plans based upon that carpet being installed… Christmas parties, family coming to stay in the new guest room, friends coming to hang out and enjoy the new space.

All the while John and I talked about the carpet problem I focused on him and the other people involved and my relationship with them (however superficial). I could have ranted, I could have raved. But, the words of my dear friend and mentor kept coming to mind, "Are you going to react, or respond?" Well, Lesley-Anne, what's it going to be? Act like a spoiled entitled home owner who deserves a better rug than this, who paid so much money and got this, who can't believe they 'still' haven't got it right? NO! Not this time anyway. We'll wait for the third carpet… we'll treat John like a human being and wait.

My point, well… I guess it's that at the end of the day the carpet doesn't really matter. It does, but it doesn't, if you know what I mean. We survived before we had one, and we'll survive without one… for a few more days, a couple more weeks… or whatever. What matters is the people who cross my path and how I treat them. And, for today, I'm choosing to treat them like human beings who make mistakes. Just like I make mistakes… all the time!

Now if I could just translate what happened in the discourse over the carpet to the relationships closer to me, then I would be happy. This morning I had a conversation with my daughter that was definitely more about reacting than responding. And I still feel badly about that.

Falling on God's grace and the grace of those around me,

Lesley-Anne

Silent Night

2009-11-28T19:14:00.000-08:00

photography by Donncha O Caoimh

I'm waiting.

As I post this, with a heavy feeling that I really should be doing other things on my lengthy to do list, I remember last December when the snow came early… and how it changed things for me then. So, I'm waiting for the snow, and hoping for change.

Have you noticed how much quieter things are after a fresh snowfall. My husband commented to me that everything seems to slow down a little when it snows, almost a subconscious response to the forgiving blanket that wraps its way around our lives.

The panic of the pre-Christmas rush is pre-empted by the need to clear the driveway. Conversations break out with the neighbours as they choose to do the same. Plans are made for future conversations, eggnog dates are set, and people reconnect. Priorities are revised, and humanity wins over consumerism for a time.

The children get caught up in it as well. The X-box 360 and iPod is left untouched as they rush outside to create snow forts, speed bumps in the street, and havoc with well aimed balls of packing snow! I watch them from the window, full of memories. When the time comes, they reluctantly leave their winter playground and come inside for dinner, rosy-cheeked, energised and full of conversation.

Here in Kelowna with its moderate climate, the city seldom shuts down, but back in Toronto where I lived my childhood, things sometimes ground to a halt until the snow stopped falling and roads were cleared. Schools closed, people went home from work early, and streets were strangely hushed as people left their vehicles parked and walked instead.

The very things that happen because of a snowfall, are, to me, the things that are most needful in my life. I need to slow down more often, and be fully engaged in the moment. I need to take time for people, to dig out from under the To Do List, and have a good old conversation with my neighbour, with my kids. I need to step back from the consumer-based version of Christmas and consider what this season is really about.

That is why I love the snow and it’s ability to get our attention. Love it or hate it, it has an impact on us. We can’t ignore it. We can’t control it. And it’s silence speaks.

So I'm waiting… for the first snow fall… for another first silent night.

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child
Holy Infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

Lesley-Anne

Sometimes suicidal… really???

2009-11-25T11:26:00.000-08:00

As you know, I just returned from a trip to Ontario to visit my folks. It was great… lots packed into a very short time… and I left wanting more in many ways. I miss my family.

While I was there, I showed my parents how to find my blogs, both Sometimes Suicidal Mama and My Grace Notes, as well as the main page to Pink Ink Workshop. I wanted them to see where I was putting my writing energies these days, and I wanted them to, in a small way, affirm that part of me. I know, I know, still trying to get my parents approval!

After showing them my blogs, we got up from the computer and were walking out of the room when my Dad said, 'You know, that name you chose really upset me when I first saw it'… and I knew he meant the name of this blog… and I knew he was upset because he wasn't comfortable or happy to know that his baby girl was 'sometimes suicidal'. The mama part was fine, I guess. And I remember having a conversation with my brother about it a couple of weeks ago, where we discussed what the name meant, and how he might help me illustrate this when I redesigned the look of my blog with him (talented graphic designer brother).

And maybe that's also the case with you? You read this blog, you look at the title, and you think, what on earth is she talking about. Maybe you think I'm making light of the subject of suicide, or maybe you think I'm being melodramatic. It's something I think about… what your reaction is to the title. So it's time for me to come clean on this.

Emotional imbalance and mental illness are not to be mocked, nor discounted or made light of. I am not suggesting that I understand anything but my own experience, and that is what this blog is, a written account of my own experience. As such, I have chosen to be open about what my life is like, and I've written a little about anxiety, depression, hopelessness, doubt, mixed in with faith, hope, inspiration and wonder in my life.

And I have to openly admit that, at times, especially times in the past, I contemplated ending my life. The times came and went, and thanks to God I didn't follow through on those thoughts. But, they were real.

For me, menopause has resulted in emotional struggles too, so when I chose to write my life down at this fork in the road, I knew a part of what I wrote would be about depression.

If I'm going to be real, then I have to admit that my struggles are real. I have to admit that I am less than perfect, do not have all the answers, am a wounded yet hopeful God seeking woman who has been and may again be a 'Sometimes Suicidal Mama'. I hope and trust and pray that this transparency and knowledge encourages you, because I'm not alone in this… am I?

That said, here is an early posting that will help to bring you up to date on where I've come from and what has inspired me to write down my life, openly sharing my humanity with you.

Tell me what you think… I'm hoping for a two way conversation… maybe…

Lesley-Anne

A LITTLE BACKGROUND

I'm thinking it might help to know a little bit of my history at this point… nothing too detailed, but just a general idea of who I am and where I'm at. About 18 months ago my menstrual cycle stopped. I was 45, and not expecting to be cold turkey into menopause.

But, I was. I began to experience all of the symptoms that you have no doubt heard about, or even experienced yourself if you are with me in this phase of life… hot flashes (a tingling feeling in my head followed by blood rushing through my body and face - like being embarrassed all over), night sweats and sleeplessness, weight gain (not a lot but enough to be frustrating), moodiness, lack of focus, lack of desire, irritability (yes, even more than usual!), and I went to my Doctor to investigate what next steps there might be for me as I walked through this change of life.

The Doctor said it was just a matter of managing things, and making adjustments as necessary. OK, I thought, and I did a little bit of research (talked to my Mom and various friends) to find out their insights, what worked, what didn't, and proceeded to make some adjustments to my life, including walking more and eating less, wearing cotton and in layers that I could easily remove when necesary, and lowering the expectations I had for my productivity in lots of areas.

The symptoms came and went, and things were going well for the most part, except for the difficulty in focusing on tasks, or completing them in a timely fashion. And, the overall feelings of anxiety and depression were sometimes quite strong. And, all this 'mental' stuff was and is going on in someone who is supposed to be filled with hope and joy and all the other trappings of being a 'woman of God'.

It wasn't the first time I've found that depression and faith are polarized, but here I was again… feeling ashamed, on the outside looking in, embarrassed to share the truth of what I was going through for fear of being 'too much' for those around me. So, I began to withdraw from relationships, and spend more time alone. (YIKES - not the best choice really)

Again I sought 'medical' help, and ended up finding some great nutritional supplements that are still helping me to regain some of my energy and vitality again (Macaroot). Some days are better than others, and there are even stretches of good days where I'm not even aware that there is this new reality for me… I feel like the old me those days. But, most days are different and I'm still trying to figure out what my new reality is.

All this to say that I'm tired of pretending that all is well all the time, that I've got it all together, and that being a Christian is the answer to everything. I need you to also know that God is my foundation in life -- he really is. I believe that God is close by and understands and provides, but that is not a bandage solution for me. I don't think it's fair to the rest of you for me to say one thing and then experience another. How much worse things would be for me without God in my life is hard to say (probably a lot worse)… but to say that all is well all the time would be a lie.

So, my passion being writing, and my purpose being to let my life be an open book, I decided to write my way through this time of my life… sharing the ups and downs and realities of these days with you. If you catch me preaching, forgive me for that, and if you catch me being a wet blanket, I hope you can forgive that too. What I simply want to be is real. I'm tired of pretending, hiding, and making excuses for who I am.

This is me. A sometimes suicidal mama.

This is me with God. A sometimes suicidal mama with God.

Maybe, somehow, my life experience will help you?

Lesley-Anne
5/4/09

Family values

2009-11-23T11:48:00.000-08:00

I see by the date of my last post that I've haven't prioritized blogging much for the past two weeks. In the past I would have made excuses, explained myself, and looked for your understanding, and your forgiveness. But this time I'm simply going to say I haven't prioritized it and move on. Because that's the truth no matter my reasons why.

Several topics come to mind for today, but the one I choose to focus on is Family Values… perhaps because I just returned from a lovely visit with my parents and brothers and their families in Ontario.

Inspired by a gut feeling that I needed to prioritize my aging parents and spend some quality time with them, and this feeling confirmed by a program we are currently doing at church called 'One Life, No Regrets', I jumped on an airplane last Wednesday and headed East… to my childhood home. I spent a wonderful three days with family… eating, talking, walking, hot-tubbing, and eating again… and it fulfilled my heart's desire to love them all as best I could in the time I had. Bob and the kids stayed here and managed incredibly well without me. Thanks, Babe!

And it seems that no matter the experience these days, there is this part of me that finds something to be learned from it. Sometimes that can be a little over-analytical. Sometimes I find myself to be a tad tiresome, because of this need to take something other than the pure experience, and learn something from it, or apply a deeper meaning to it.

My visit with my parents was a bit like that, only I recognized it within myself and was able to take a chill pill and enjoy the moments, rather than pursuing my own agenda for deep meaning and deep impact. Thank God I just enjoyed the moments with them.

Another case in point.

A couple of years ago… we were enjoying a bowl of ice cream for dessert after dinner, and one of the kids said to Bob and I, 'Ice cream should be a family value'. Yes, we all agreed. It is something that we all enjoy, and even if it's not entirely healthy to have too much of this good thing, we can enjoy it in moderation as an entire family. What a cool family value, we all thought.

The very next day I got on my computer and made a lovely little poster with the word 'Ice Cream' as an acronym for all the important yet slightly hidden values of our family… values of character and action, values that we aspire to. Suddenly the family value of 'Ice Cream' had taken on a much deeper meaning for me, and I saw the opportunity to engage the family in a life lesson or a launching pad for deeper things.

So, I posted my meaningful bit of writing on the fridge, and showed it to the family and experienced… a very lukewarm response.

But wait, wasn't the point simply to enjoy a bowl of ice cream together, to make sure that ice cream made it onto my grocery list? Was our son's thought of making ice cream a family value really about the deeper meaning at all, or was I making something out of something for the purposes of what? What I needed and what they needed were two entirely different things!

I remembered this experience the other day with a smile, because that piece I wrote about the 'Ice Cream Family Values' is not on our fridge anymore. Yet, there is still ice cream inside the freezer, and we still enjoy a bowl together as a family quite often.

And, we still consider ice cream to be a family value… plain old often vanilla ice cream… no fancy toppings or deeper meanings required.

And that's OK with me. Just like visiting my parents can be just that… a lovely visit with my family.

Lesley-Anne

Time and attention is something I can give

2009-11-04T09:01:00.000-08:00

Seems I'm not the only one, not very surprising to me or any of you, I'm sure. The more I become transparently real in a 'Velveteen Rabbit' kind of way, the more I come into contact with others who share similar stories with me.

• Topic… emotional struggle.

• Biggest challenge… feeling alone, feeling rejected.

• Biggest need… understanding within a loving community.

And at times these interchanges are helpful for me and the people I meet, at other times overwhelming as we go beneath the superficial. It's heavy stuff.

Again, yesterday, a connection with someone who is burdened by deep emotional pain, struggling to keep it together enough to take care of loved ones, and here I am wondering, "But what can I do"? It always becomes personal for me, and that's the biggest challenge. Because I know I can't be or do it all, for everyone. And it appears that the world, and in particular my world right now, is full of walking wounded.

I see them, these beautiful hurting people, through several sets of eyes. First, I see them through the eyes of my personal understanding and empathy because of similar experiences. Second, I see them through the eyes of recognition that an empathetic interchange is not enough… that relationship is required, and I know I have to take action. Third, I see them through my own wounded, foggy perspective that most always sees what I want to see, and the fixer, encourager, righteously indignant rescuer in me kicks in. Fourth, I see them through the eyes of Jesus, who reminds me that I cannot turn away except at great cost.

And I'm trying hard to not turn away.

So I'm beginning to think that knowing what "to do" isn't really necessary. I'm thinking that it is more about learning to pay attention to my fellow travellers, and spend time listening. I can give that… my time and attention.

Perhaps many of these burdens and problems have no solutions anyway, and who am I to think I can fix anyone (God complex?). But, I can be there. I can make myself available. I can do little things like make a phone-call or an extra batch of spaghetti sauce. I can look into their eyes and linger in conversation rather than running away. It's messy stuff… complicated, painful, dark, messy stuff. I'm trying hard to not be afraid to go there with these fragile creatures.

Because that's what I desire too, this fragile walking wounded creature called Lesley-Anne Evans, simply wants to know she is not alone in this world. I want to know that I have a listening ear or a broad shoulder whenever life just gets too much to bear. Being a Christian doesn't mean I don't struggle… it's just not a band-aid for all the mess, no matter what some people might say. God knows that about me, and many times he has sent skin-on 'angels' to help me when I'm at the end of my rope.

Like the time many years ago, when I was at home with three little kids, and trying desperately to make canned peaches, crying in the kitchen of our little house because I just couldn't figure out how to do the mothering and the canning at the same time. And then the back gate creaked open, and my neighbour May popped in and rolled up her sleeves and stayed until we had finished the job. I believe God sent May over that day, and has sent many more 'angels' to me over the years.

We are not alone. The living, breathing, hurting human beings that we pass every day on the street, in the mall, at the school, in the church lobby… they all matter to God. They should also matter to us. That's not easy for me to say any more than it is for you to hear. I'm a bit of a recluse, low on the need for social interaction. I like my own company best. But I'm learning to push myself outside of this comfortable place… bit by bit. I just can't love my neighbour any other way.

Time and attention…

I believe we are all worth that investment.

Peace,

Lesley-Anne

Serendipity

2009-10-28T13:50:00.000-07:00

photography by Joel Clements

I'm not superstitious, so please don't hear that when I say that something 'serendipitous' happened to me the other day. I say 'serendipitous' because that's what the other person who was involved in this encounter said. Me, I guess I'd call it a divine appointment. And as I wait to see what will come out of this encounter of the providential kind, I'm pretty excited, 'cause I know there's lots of potential for great things to happen.

As you know, a few days ago I told you about the reason why I was feeling low emotionally, and my struggle to be within community when I'm feeling depressed, introverted, anti-social, and want nothing more than to just fade into the woodwork… or cuddle up in my jammies at home with a book. Going out, or the thought of going out, into public places, or worse even into places inhabited by those who know me and look into my eyes and can see something is wrong, just doesn't appeal to me. I want to hide… hide all the ugly truths about who I am and what I'm going through.

So, my post the other day was a bit of a crap shoot… I put myself out there (a bit generally and maybe a bit too vaguely?) to just admit I was having a hard time. I didn't expect much to come of it, but having the friends that I do, several stepped up and reached out and cared enough to get messy with me. And I am so grateful for you, my dear friends. That alone was enough to give me courage to venture a little further out into the community again.

Monday I ventured into the community at large. I went to do some errands, some returns, and a little shopping. My serendipitous moment happened in a store, at the return desk. I had an encounter with someone I've known for years… from a time long ago when our eldest, now 16, was a little baby. So, a long time ago. Lately we've been 'bumping into each other' every few weeks. Prior to that we hadn't seen each other for years.

So this person from my past and I exchanged pleasantries, as we always do… saying things like let's get together this time… do you still have my number etc. etc. and then we headed our separate ways. I headed into the store, and she, well I thought she headed out the door. Nope. As I was shopping I bumped into her again, and that was when she said with a smile, "Of course it's you… serendipity!"

And we talked again, albeit this time our conversation went beneath the surface right away. She shared some life stuff, asked me about my life, and when I opened up about what I was doing she then said, "That's why we keep meeting!" And we talked more about what that meant, and why our paths were meeting this way, and what God intended to do with us. Then she said something that just about knocked me over… and brought tears to my eyes considering how I've been feeling isolated and depressed… she said, "Just the other day I prayed that God would send me someone… and it's YOU. It's been you all along, I just didn't know it."

WOW! I've never had anyone say something like that to me before. Wow.

You can imagine that I can hardly wait to see what happens next. 'Cause God's in the business of creating all sorts of extraordinary relationships, and I can tell that this is the beginning, no, the rekindling, of one of those.

There's this verse that I found a couple of years ago that says,

"God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us."

So I say, "Yes, God" to whatever it is that you have in mind. I want to live a wild dream… but at the same time gently.

Expecting…

Lesley-Anne

The reason why

2009-10-25T12:15:00.000-07:00

An awful lot of thinking has been going on in my head lately… the neurons buzzing back and forth, and considerations being considered. I've gone from deep despair to a more moderate emotional state, and back again, all without any med's or prolonged use of vitamin supplements. And the process will no doubt continue, as that's just how I live right now. Menopause maybe, or maybe a new life season, or maybe just part of how I was made. It is what it is.

I found a few old journals lately, took them to bed early one evening and started to read them just to confirm that this isn't the first time in my life when I've felt like I've hit a wall. And, indeed, there in ink I read about other times when the circumstances of my life lined up with a case of SADD, or stress, or low energy, or grief, or even with an overabundance of time alone to think on all these things, and the result was the same… reassessment, questioning, wondering, and doubts. And it's always a downward spiral.

I believe a part of why I feel this way is due to my spirituality. There's a very real possibility that a battle is taking place in my mind and spirit because the devil would like to render me ineffective in my life. What I mean to say is, that there's a spiritual world of darkness at work against the Kingdom of Light that I confess to belong to. I'm not here to argue this… just state it as something I believe to be true.

So, having said that, the more time I spend alone, the worse these dark attacks can be. Being an introvert, I often think I don't need to be with people that much, but that's not true for me for long periods of time. Because, when I'm alone, I'm not being bolstered by the community of people that can provide me encouragement, wisdom, comraderie, and affirmation of my life purpose. This community of friends are what sustain me, share accountability with me and help me to refocus when my glasses get foggy… like right about now.

I've already begun the process of reintegration into community in various ways… by opening up this can of worms to you, to my friends, to my husband, and allowing you and them to see that I just don't have it all together… I'm human, I'm struggling, I need them to come alongside me and help me find my way. This can take the form of conversation, prayer, counsel, and plain old cheering from the sidelines as I find my way back into the race again.

I'm on my way back… taking time to write down all the clues that are being sprinkled like bread crumbs upon the path of my life. I bend down and pick up the pieces, nibble on some, and look up for the next clue.

I'm coming back… it's becoming clearer… I'm on my way… watch for me…

Lesley-Anne

Spitting and spitting and spitting and spitting…

2009-10-20T10:30:00.000-07:00

I just realized that I never did get back to my explanation of the Salivary Testing I am doing with the Women's Life Balance Program at iQuest. Sorry about that!

So here's the short of it. On my second visit to iQuest, (the one where I told Dr. Sheehan that I loved her), I was given a little cardboard box, and inside that box were three tiny plastic vials and a page of written instructions.

Marsha, the lovely young lady at the front desk, explained the process to me, and I took my little box and headed home to begin.

Over a series of 7 days I was required to fill the little vials with… spit… yes, spit! But you already know that saliva is spit. What you probably don't know is just how much spit is needed to FILL one of these little vials. Marsha had warned me, with a smile, that "the vials seem to expand when you have to fill them"… but to be honest, I didn't pay much attention to what she was saying at the time. That is, until day 1, when I sat on the edge of my bed (hubby tucked safely away in the shower) and begin to delicately spit into the vial.

The first couple of spits weren't too bad. But then my mouth mysteriously dried up. I mean I had to concentrate really hard to produce any moisture at all. I found this very funny, because when I'm at the Dentist, the exact opposite seems to happen. I can't imagine where all the spit comes from when I don't want it to be there. You know the sucking machine they use to take away spit in the Dentist's chair… well, in hindsight, perhaps this salivary collection process should have been done in conjunction with a visit to the Dentist. But, that's not what happened.

What happened was I kept spitting, I spat and spat and spat until all I was spitting were a very few bubbles. And I prayed that the definition of 'filling the vial' would include the air space that the bubbles took up… because I really didn't have anything else to deposit after about 10 minutes of trying. So, I placed the top on the vial, labeled it neatly, and put it in the freezer. Three mornings later I did it again (maybe it takes that long for the saliva to build up again???) And then, three days after that I 'filled' my last vial, placed it into the freezer with the other two, and planned a trip to iQuest to drop them off.

All fun and games aside, the salivary testing is being done to determine hormone levels in my body, and so will be a very helpful baseline of information to then move forward with recommended treatments. As opposed to blood tests which are a static sample of hormone levels, taking saliva samples over a series of days allows for a much better picture of levels, as hormones fluctuate from day to day. The testing is done by a lab out of town, so I anticipate that the results will be available in another week or so. I'm sort of excited to know, sort of anxious about whether the findings will be really out of whack!

I remember a friend who went through menopause about a year ago had some testing done (blood work, I believe) and when the results came in her Doctor said, "I can't believe you are still walking around!" Now, that's a real vote of confidence that I don't need.

Anyway, that's the process involved, and you can see by my photo that I'm still working on building up the moisture levels in my mouth again… just kidding!

Lesley-Anne

The Fallen

2009-10-19T10:38:00.000-07:00

Thoughts inspired by falling leaves, and daughters and their friends, …

The leaves fall under the trees in autumn. Maple leaves under maple trees, oak leaves under oak trees, aspen under aspen.

Branches overhead reach over them in their fallen-ness as if in one last attempt to hold onto the past. Branches protecting them, albeit in a limited way, as the leaves themselves were what created shelter and shade just a short time ago.

Branches stretched out, the trees stand as silent sentinels, wetted down by autumn rain, alone in their solitary sadness as they mourn the loss of their magnificence. Maple tree mourning maple leaf.

But oh, the brilliance of those leaves as they lie there, aglow with intensity. Adorning the emerald green of summer’s fading grasses, they are more significant now in their new setting than they were in the old. Leaf tips curling up to hold the rain drops, layered upon each other in a riotous celebration of colour, each worthy of becoming a cherished souvenir of a child. Until their colours have slowly faded, and each leaf quietly taken it’s place as a winter blanket for what lies beneath...the tree’s own roots.

And now if you look up into the trees, you will see that their time of mourning has ended. On the once leaf-laden branches you will find tiny indications of life. Their glory fallen, the trees prepare for future splendor. The buds lie dormant, waiting for the day that the flow of sap will swell them into significance, burst them into beauty.

How true it is with us.

How we cling to this life with great tenacity, holding tight to the wonder and delight of all this world has to offer us through the spring and summers of our lives. Then, like the autumn leaves, we shine in all of our splendor, our colours richly displayed. Our accomplishments, our careers, our possessions, our children, our ministry, our lives. Look, we say, look at what we have, look at what we have become, look at what God has done for us. Look at me!

And we are so beautiful then that we dare not let go of the branch. Our significance is in our position on the tree, separate from each other leaf, proudly displayed and distinct. Beautiful yet isolated, we hang on.

And yet God says, let go of the branch. Trust me, trust me in the falling. Yes, my blessings are for you to enjoy, but don’t hold on so tightly to what I have given you. My blessings are given so that you may then be a blessing. Isolation, pride and selfishness are not from me.

Only in the falling do we experience the gathering on the ground. Layers of leaves, intimately joined together in rich community, only on the ground do we recognize our interdependence. We join together there, unique colours fading into insignificance as we become a rich, fertile blanket for what is to come.

The bible says that as humans we cannot conceive nor the mind understand what God has in store for those of us who love him.

Lesley-Anne Evans
Autumn 2006

Planning ahead, I think.

2009-10-17T16:26:00.000-07:00

Only 76 shopping days until Christmas…

… WHAT!!!

Only 76 shopping days left!!!

Now why would I be thinking about that, with Thanksgiving only 5 days ago, and the leaves still on the trees, and candy for Halloween still stocking the shelves. WHY would I fill my mind with thoughts of Christmas now? And why with only with the materialistic, consumer driven parts of Christmas? I know better than that, don't I? Of course!! I understand and celebrate the true meaning of Christmas, but the shopping has become part of the tradition, and it's just not going to go away.

The gift part of Christmas… the necessary buying… is a real stretch for me. I'm not a good shopper, and I struggle with gift ideas on every occasion, especially Christmas when the perceived expectations are higher, the sheer quantity of gifts enormous (I'm including all the little things for stockings too) and the deadline is at least two weeks before Christmas for those out of town gifts that have to be sent off early.

I guess shopping is on my mind because I just got home from THE GREAT CANADIAN SUPERSTORE!!! That's our local long-term version of THE WALMART SUPERCENTRE (which, by the way, just opened here too)… just as mammoth, just as necessary to consider the type of shoes you are wearing when you leave the house, and just as prone to causing sheer exhaustion, irritability, and lack of grace. All in an effort to save a few dollars, and browse the collection of well designed, reasonably priced 'Joe Fresh' clothing that I've come to love.

So, Saturday afternoon, and rainy outside, and Claire and I head to GCS for a little browsing… and two and a half hours later we are home feeling like we just ran the Boston Marathon (not that I know what that feels like… a tad melodramatic, I know). We had a successful trip, and came home with a couple of cute tops for Claire, and a couple of things for Graeme… who hates shopping even more than I do. I anticipate that I might have to return Graeme's items, but at least I saved him from the shopping experience. I even looked for myself, but came home with nothing but a t-shirt.

All this to say, that I am so tired after accomplishing so little, that the thought of Christmas shopping and having to accomplish so much leaves me feeling drained, and certainly not in the best frame of mind (meaning I'm completely lacking in perspective).

Which makes me wonder if I could attack this whole Christmas shopping thing in a different way? A new plan, that's what I need!!!

I have a friend who shops online… and I've tried this before, but it only works for some items. The stocking stuffers still require considerable personal time in retail. And, I've tried the gift card approach, but that always seems a little cold to me… like I couldn't actually make a decision, so I chickened out and bought a 'you choose for yourself' option. And giving cash feels even worse.

So that brings me back to shopping, in person, for hours and hours until I can say, somewhat triumphantly, "I'm finished!!!" Whoopeeeee!!!

The plan this year must start with ideas… because creative ideas are the key to approaching difficult things, I think. So, here are a few off the top of my head;

• Know what you are looking for -- be a focused shopper, rather than aimlessly 'wandering' looking for inspiration.

• Choose the best time of day… first thing in the morning, during the week when others are at work, at school, in bed, or whatever.

• Break it down into manageable pieces. Keep expectations low and exceed them rather than fall short. So, if I can manage to buy one gift, I will celebrate! Thank goodness Starbucks already has some yummy seasonal drinks on their menu.

• Quit early -- head home before feet are blistered, or the attitude begins to slip.

• Shop to a budget, and take the guilt out of spending. This could include having an amount of money set aside already… although this never happens for me.

• Start early in the season with the goal of finishing by a certain date.

• Take a friend with you… this is always more fun than going alone.

• Enlist family members too… from ideas to purchasing, if your family is involved, the task seems less daunting.

• Wear your ipod and listen to your favourite soothing music as you shop. This only works when shopping alone!

OK, I'm feeling better now that I've been reminded of all the things that do and don't work, and even come up with a few new ideas. So, I guess there's no excuse now, other than mustering up the initiative to get started.

Any Christmas shopping tips you'd like to share, I'm all ears.

Lesley-Anne

Thoughts on Sabbath and a balanced life…

2009-10-13T11:38:00.000-07:00

After a month of being unwell, I'm happy to report that I'm feeling more like myself and ready to start the process of catch-up on all the things that didn't get done for the past 30 days.

On Friday, I started taking a large dose of antibiotics that seem to be doing the trick. My lethargy has lifted, my cough has lightened, and my sinuses are indistinguishable from the rest of my face and forehead! I feel health coming on, and it feels so good that I want to celebrate!

But I feel like I've been living in a void for a month… with so little energy that I could only take care of the very basics of cooking, cleaning, laundry, family management and walking the dog. My voice was affected, so coffee with friends or chats by phone were out of the question. Meetings I had scheduled, about what I thought to be very important things, were put on hold once my symptoms included a horrific cough. I hardly had the energy to get up and drive to pick up my poor children, who must have wondered whatever happened to their real mother?

I've been out of the loop, on the back burner, for far too long. And now I don't really know where to start.

In hindsight, I'm thankful for the rest. I've learned that the weight of responsibility I put on myself to do so many trivial things, is really not necessary. The weeds in the garden have waited patiently for me to show up, and so far, I can still see the plants that are intended to be there surviving without my tending. The meals have been more simple, yet still tasty. Nobody has suffered from malnutrition so far. And, in those days of lack of contact with people, I enjoyed the peace and the stillness of my home. Only during the days is this possible, as my family of 5 plus a dog is certainly not peaceful and still when they are all at home doing their thing. And nobody has come down with anything nasty due to dusty furniture, or un-mopped floors. Really, we've survived this time relatively unscathed.

And I truly believe NOTHING is wasted, not even the flu, or a cold, or a virus like I had. Because of it I read more, sat more, thought more. I slept more. And the perspective that only comes with time and space came for me, taking the edge off some crazy things I thought I might do this fall, thought I 'should do' this fall, and bringing me back to the essential, important, and first things first.

Which has reminds me of the concept of Sabbath… (what I know of it, that is)… Sabbath… allowing for space in which rest, and a time of thankful introspection and peace and preparing for what is next, is intentionally placed in one's life on a regular basis. Not in a legalistic sense, as in the biblical command to keep the Sabbath holy, but one of honour and recognition that God has hard wired in a need for rest that we must recognize in order to be fully what he intends us to be.

Did I just taste some of that in my sickness? I remember part of a quote that was left on a chalk board at church, which came to mind as I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. It was something like this,

"If we do not honour the Sabbath in our daily lives, our sickness, our disease, our heart ache will become our Sabbath."

So I have to ask myself, even with my deep desire to lead a simple life, do I really understand what it means to lead a balanced life? Am I practicing Sabbath rest to honour God, and his way of balancing the various components of my life? Does my life show a healthy back and forth between work and play, activity and rest, community and solitude, and other areas?

What about food and fasting? Does my mind ever experience Sabbath rest? My emotions? Am I getting enough sleep? Do my relationships suffer from the lack of balance… and lack of Sabbath rest? Like that commercial for 'Go RVing', am I mistaking the things that keep us connected (cell phone, computer, face-book time), for the things that keep us together in relationships (face-to-face time)?

Was this time of illness a time of reckoning… or recognition that my life is not in balance, and needs to be brought into check before something else happens? Perhaps.

Whether professional, mother, teacher, artist, writer, cab driver, secretary, we all have choices in how we spend our time, what we prioritize, and how we balance our lives. We are responsible for these choices, in how they effect us, and others that we love. Some choices will have lasting impact, others minor inconveniences like colds and the flu.

So what better way to undertake a life choices assessment, than taking time apart… a Sabbath… to consider how well I am doing in this area of balance. And perhaps through making some adjustments, I will begin to live better, and be well inside and out. This lines up perfectly with my start in the Women's Life Balance Program at iQuest, doesn't it? All things considered, it's the right thing to do.

Wellness is something I've missed a lot these past four weeks. And I don't want to intentionally cause sickness to happen again, no matter the lessons learned.

Something to consider as I procrastinate over walking the dog today.

Lesley-Anne

Sparrow

2009-10-08T09:50:00.000-07:00

You cup your hands as you gently lift the injured sparrow from the swimming pool water and peer down at it. Your young faces are full of concern for the creature that has flown frantically around our backyard, staying just ahead of Buddy our German Pointer - intent on obeying his hard wired birding instincts.

“What should we do mom?” you three ask, and so I say, “Let’s take it inside where it will be safe for a while. Buddy will have to stay outside for now,” the dog still searching the yard for his elusive prey. So, you and your brother and sister take over, preparing a soft, towel-lined cardboard box, and then go online to research the appropriate action to care for an injured bird.

In my heart I think the story will have a sad ending, as many birds die from the fright of being handled. But you are persistent in finding out what to do, and quickly prepare a lid for the box, punching holes in the cardboard sides and adjusting the blinds on the laundry room window to cut out as much light as you can.

We are all speaking in soft voices now, and the timer on the stove is set, just as you instruct us to do -- now we have to wait. Your sister isn’t very patient in her vigil, every few minutes requesting a peek into the box. But you know time is important, so we wait, and I wonder what we will see when we finally remove the lid and look inside?

Time passes, the box is opened, the bird flies free. Life is spared, our hearts are touched, we play a small part in something bigger. And I consider how our small lives reflect those of sparrows, eating from His outstretched hand.

Lesley-Anne Evans

It keeps on getting better all the time…

2009-10-04T17:52:00.000-07:00

Well, it’s not something I’m in the habit of doing. That is, I don’t usually make an appointment with a health professional to deal with something that ails me, and then blurt out ‘I love you’ in response to their suggested treatment. And yet that’s exactly what I did when Dr. Sheehan said she wanted me to start taking apple cider vinegar to supplement the acids in my stomach, and help my ongoing problem with indigestion and acid reflux. The fact that this suggestion lined up with something my very healthy and elderly grandfather had taken most of his adult life, and I was sold out.

My visit to iQuest Healthcare and Fitness Centre and Dr. Rachel Sheehan, ND, was Part Two of my Women’s Life Balance Program initiation process. Similar to Part One with Dr. Grant Pagdin, MD (that I told you about in a previous post) it far surpassed what I had been expecting. Again no BMI testing with Dr. Sheehan!

Dr. Sheehan had done her homework, reading over the lengthy questionaire I had submitted beforehand. Based upon those facts and other related questions, we sat and talked and laughed and shared and by the end of the visit I felt like I was a friend rather than a client. Why, you might ask? Well, this lady made it her business to ask very detailed questions, and listened rather than interrupted when I gave lengthy answers, and empathized with me when we ventured into areas that were personal, emotional, even psychological. It wasn’t just about figuring out how to help me in my current menopausal state, rather it was about getting to know me as a whole person, and beginning to look at ways to treat that whole.

So, for me, that meant looking at my detailed health record, of course. It included talking about my concerns surrounding a family history of breast cancer and diabetes. It involved taking a look at my predisposition toward depression and SAD. And, it allowed us to take a detailed look at my menopausal symptoms and my personal philosophy regarding bioidentical hormone replacement therapy and homeopathy.

In other words, we covered a lot of territory in that hour, and my outburst of ‘I love you’ near the end of our time together was genuine. I truly felt warm feelings towards this woman who offered me, not only an ear, not only her professional expertise, not only the beginning of a customized approach toward my whole health, but most importantly, she offered me new hope.

So, another step further along, and I’m home again with my share of Dr. Sheehan's 'tricks up my sleeve’ to better deal with the distressing symptoms of broken sleep and hot flashes that come along with my version of the ‘pause’. And I have to report that to date I have had three nights of good solid sleep, and several days with no noticeable hot flashes. You can imagine that my frame of mind is also improving, and I’m excited to discuss this with Dr. Sheehan on our next visit.

Oh, did I mention that I had to go and see another iQuest specialist after my visit with Dr. Sheehan? Well, I did. I met with Jordelle Dupre, iQuest's Exercise Physiology Expert, who led me through a ‘Strength and Agility’ testing process. Jordelle was kind enough not to laugh when I couldn’t quite figure out how to do a vertical jump without kicking up my heels, and she patiently waited while the spasm in my shoulder died down enough to continue to do a very limited number of sit-ups. Oh, and she also graciously calculated my BMI, without calipers. All this to gain a deeper understanding of my capacity and abilities, and to assess the current status of my whole health.

All in all, it was a good morning. And, you can imagine my excitement when Jordelle took a measurement of my waist circumference and announced that I was well within healthy heart measurements for women my age. Wow, now that felt really good. Another healthy dose of hope!

I was going to tell you more about my saliva, but that will have to wait until tomorrow.

Lesley-Anne

October Valentine - the real story

2009-10-02T08:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday's posting was written as if it were a tale that could have happened to anyone, anywhere. The truth is, it happened to me. Why it happened, I don't know. But I do know it was as real to me as the leaf I held in my hand. You will just have to decide for yourself if you believe it.

This then, is my personal account of what took place two years ago, as I walked with my dog Buddy along a tree-lined pathway in Kelowna, British Columbia.

photography by Jeanine Friesen of J9 Photography.

Come and listen to what God has done in my life.

It was a bright October day, and after dropping our children at school, I decided to take my dog for a walk along the Mission Creek Greenway. It was wonderful on the path that day; the creek sparkling and gurgling beside me, and the poplar trees at the height of fall colour, illuminated in the sunshine.

As I walked, I felt a growing sense of well-being, and I thought to myself, "You are here God." I began to hum and then sing right out loud because no-one else was there but me. I worshiped God, feeling a closeness to him that I hadn't in a long time.

I looked up at the colourful trees, and wanting to somehow save this beauty, I stopped to pick up some leaves from the ground. And that is when I noticed... the leaf in my hand was heart-shaped, like a yellow valentine. And, at that very moment, I heard God say in my own heart,

"I am here, and I love you, I love you!"

So, I stood there, surrounded by the glowing heart shaped leaves, and I felt the touch of God.

October Valentine

2009-10-01T08:00:00.001-07:00

Sharing this story has become a tradition in my life for the past couple of Autumns. In celebration of October and the tangible, personal love that God has for each of us, I'd like to share it again.

photography by Jeanine Friesen of J9 Photography

October Valentine
by LA. Evans

She walked briskly along the pathway, the dog ahead of her pulling on the leash. The sun shone brightly, illuminating the fall leaves on the trees and enveloping her in colour.

She hummed as she walked, and then began singing. With the sun warming her face and fresh air filling her lungs, she felt a deep contentment. And she thought to herself, “You are here God”.

Taking in the details of the trees around her, she admired the contrasting colours of the leaves more closely. She reached down to pick a yellow leaf from the ground, then another and another. There were so many leaves to choose from that soon she had a brilliant bouquet in her gloved hand.

It was then that she noticed the shape of the yellow leaves -- heart shaped. And, at that very moment, God spoke into her heart;

“I love you. I love you. I am here and I love you.”

She stood still, looking at all the leaves. The heart-shaped leaves surrounded her, some hanging from the trees above, while others created a beautiful carpet under her feet. She smiled. It was simple and profound and personal, and she wanted to share it with her friends.

She collected more leaves, then continued to walk and consider the depth of God’s love for her. The heart shaped leaves were from poplar trees -- fast growing, weedy trees that were not highly valued. And God chose those particular trees to display his love to her. Not the mighty oak nor the stately maple, but the humble, overlooked and often disposable poplar.

Invigorated by her walk and God’s message of love, she and her dog made their way along the pathway toward home.

May this story remind you of the One who loves you uniquely, personally, beyond comprehension.

Lesley-Anne

Body Mass Index and other scary tests

2009-09-24T12:27:00.000-07:00

It was much better than I expected. No poking or prodding or weighing was involved this time around, and no BMI (body mass index) measurements were taken, thank goodness! I am so relieved.

Earlier this morning, you'd think I was preparing for a first date or something! I was nervous, sweaty (or, was that a hot flash?) and completely absorbed by my wardrobe's lack of choices."What should I wear", is a question that goes through my mind every day, but this morning, it was "What sporty thing should I wear", which limits things considerably because I'm not a sporty kind of girl.

I settled on a pair of running shorts (never been worn for running before, only for walking) a yoga top (you guessed it, never been worn for yoga but nice and cool for working in the garden) followed by a colourful hoodie, just in case it was cold in the office and my yoga top felt too bare, and then I topped that off with my bright turquoise cycling jacket which looks like I probably just did something athletic, or at least have a mind to do something healthy soon. And my runners were fairly new and presentable. I think I'll fit in now, I thought.

Next came the makeup… and I needed to be careful there too… not too much and not too little. I settled for a dash of eye shadow, and a light lip gloss, hoping that the overall effect was well tended and again, sporty!

Then, armed with my completed health questionaire, I went to drop off the kids at school, and on to my 9 am appointment at the iQuest Healthcare and Fitness Centre.

Why all this drama for me today? Because today was the day that I officially enrolled in the newly launched iQuest Women's Life Balance Program. My friend Lorne Friesen, Director of iQuest Kelowna, recently presented me with a great opportunity that allows me to focus purposefully on my health, while exercising my love of writing. I am to be honoured with being one of the first clients to participate in the Women's Life Balance Program, and I will write about my experiences, and I will share my stories with you.

So all of my preparation this morning was leading up to my first physician assessment at iQuest, and I didn't quite know what to expect, how I would fit in, what the outcomes would be, and most of all, how embarrassed I would be to learn how unhealthy and unfit I really am. As it turned out, my experience was completely comfortable, because iQuest is a comfortable place, whether you are 'sporty' or not. The people who work there make it that way.

Dr. Grant Pagdin's assessment was more of a conversation really. We spent our hour talking about the various aspects of living a balanced and healthy lifestyle, how this relates to life in menopause, and the new possibilities offered now with Bioidentical Hormone Therapy (BHT). I felt at ease talking about myself and where I was at, asking him lots of questions, and he patiently answered every one. I came away feeling more educated, listened to, and entertaining the possibility that there were new options for me and other women who are struggling with the sometimes overwhelming symptoms of the 'pause' (see this previous post).

So, next steps for me are 'salivary testing' to determine hormone levels in my body, an appointment with iQuest's Naturopathic Doctor to discuss holistic treatment options for menopause, and then some strength and agility testing. Nobody mentioned the BMI yet, so maybe that's not going to happen. I really don't need a test to tell me that my middle is wider than it was before… just someone to help me manouver through these waters of menopause with grace and a sense of being in control of my own healthy lifestyle choices.

Salivary testing is done at home… and it involves spitting… hummm…

Lesley-Anne

the good, the bad, the ugly

2009-09-22T12:52:00.000-07:00

The good;

• sun is shining outside yet again… these autumn days are warm, yellow, wonderful.

• kids are all back in school again.

• my throat doesn't hurt today.

• my email is back online.

• God loves me and has given me a good life.

• I have friends.

• Chicken noodle soup is good for the soul… not the books, the soup!

• there are groceries in the fridge and dinner plans in my head.

• there is a sleeping dog on my couch because he and I had a good long walk.

The bad;

• someone hacked into Bob's business account and took his money.

• the days go by too quickly with too little to show for it… unless writing is considered by non-writers to be productive? Does it really matter?

• poetry is not considered to be writing, by some people.

• some people don't read.

• I can't remember what I read this morning… and I'll have to read it over again!

The ugly;

• my car is in dire need of a wash and vac.

• there are hampers full of dirty clothes upstairs.

• I still care too much about what other people do, say and think.

• even after I re-read what I forgot, I will still struggle to put it into action, and will most likely forget it again.

• I don't want to do the laundry.

• I don't want to wash and vac. the car.

Well, that's about it for now… and at the end of it all, the good outweighs the bad and the ugly. So, I guess that's good. Unless I add the bad and ugly together and then it's… more heavily weighted on the negative side of things… but who's counting!

I prefer to keep looking up!

LA

Ranting and reckoning

2009-09-20T13:58:00.000-07:00

A short rant on a (the) virtual enemy…

What the? So my email suddenly goes AWOL, and once I dig into the problem I discover, with the assistance of my husband's amazing technical wiz Wayne at his office, that my email has been 'harvested'! What on earth is that? Harvested by online 'bots' whose job is to find email addresses with unprotected something-or-others and then somehow hack into personal information, including passwords, and hijack everything.

Why would anyone do this? "You don't know the criminal mind, Mom." my 13 year old says. But why would any criminal want anything of mine? Especially the email of a 40 something suburbanite wife and mother, who writes poetry? I just don't get it… and I guess that's just the thing… it's not to be gotten! It just is. And people like me… naive, honest, trusting people like me who strive to learn to navigate the virtual world in an attempt to impact the real world, do so without really knowing or understanding some of the potential dangers that come along with this territory.

So you are probably saying to yourself… it was only your email address, not your bank account and not true identitly theft… right? But, this person (whose email was actually programmed as a forwarding address with my internet provider - sick!) didn't just steal my personal email (remember that mail theft is a federal offense in the United States… and maybe Canada too), but they took my information and that of many others from a huge online community called 'Faithwriters', and posted them on a website… with dark intent… they placed me and those others on a list… an anti-christian, gay bashing 'watch list'… and THAT makes me really PO'd. That makes my skin crawl. That makes me want to reach along the vast miles of internet highways and bi-ways and… what? And what? (take a deep breath…)

And here I'll have to park… 'cause it shouldn't surprise me, and it shouldn't shock me, and it certainly shouldn't cause me to hesitate for one moment to continue what I'm doing here… writing things down… writing poetry… speaking my heart out… speaking my mind… sharing God stuff. 'Cause when I do that, then somebody is certainly bound to get PO'd… and try to stop me… even if it's just by making me feel a little foolish, or perhaps a little fearful, or maybe by stealing my email.

Well, I call your bluff!!!

Lesley-Anne

Flu season already?

2009-09-14T09:23:00.000-07:00

It's been a few days since I've written… went quickly from summer holidays, to back to school prep., to FLU (or some un-named virus with flu-like symptoms)! How frustrating for my poor sick kids… to just get into their new classes with their new teachers and new classmates, then have to stay at home with sore throats, headaches, fever, cough, stomach aches, and no energy to do anything other than press the remote button from time to time, and whine a little bit.

I feel badly for them because I know there will be catch up to do, new concepts to learn outside of regular class time, and the added stress of having missed school life for a few days. I wonder if they caught it at school, or exactly how we could have moved from the happy, healthy days of summer to this, so quickly?

And now, just as we are coming close to the end of the sickness for them, I catch it. Last night I couldn't sleep due to a throat so sore that I had trouble swallowing. I tried a couple of home remedies… one you probably know about, the other is, well, a little suspect. But, I was desperate last night.

The first was to swallow a teaspoon full of liquid honey. Ummm, that felt rather good going down, smooth, sweet, covering the throat with a calming coating… which only lasted for a few minutes before the pain kicked in again.

The second involved dill pickles. First, I swallowed a tablespoon of the liquid from the pickle jar… now this has to be garlic dill pickles apparently, because the combination of garlic and dill is a disinfectant/antiseptic in some way. Then, as a chaser, you eat a pickle. Ta da… done! And again, the result was rather calming for a few more minutes… and then, the pain came back. At least my hunger pangs were satiated at 12:30 am. But my throat, not happy at all.

So, I headed back to bed with lozenges, a glass of water, and a large portion of self pity for company. And I tried to sleep as best I could.

This morning things are a bit brighter… always better in the day light, isn't it? Today I'm more able to care for my son who has taken up residence on the couch again. Poor boy has pink eye, nose bleeds, and a sore throat too. I need to check in on him now, so I'll leave you with a helpful list of things you might want to have on hand for this winter's flu season. I might have been better prepared if I'd had this list last week. Oh well, it's not winter yet, is it?

This too will pass.

Tenderly,

Lesley-Anne

Virtual awards

2009-09-01T08:06:00.000-07:00

I've never received a virtual award before… and maybe a real one only a couple of times. Once in middle school I received a Citizenship Award for being a good and caring student, and another time a Participation Award for completing the Canada Fitness Challenge without giving up. So, you can imagine my amazement at receiving an award for being 'Neighbourly'!

My online friend Pastor Sharon at Dances with God gave me this award in thanks for my support of a not so popular blog she posted some time ago. And I thank her for her kindness to me, and for the honour and the cool badge that I can post in various places. Thanks Sharon!

It feels wonderful to get recognition of any kind, yet I feel something slightly different about being recognized for my character rather than my achievement. There's this small pang of disappointment that my blog (and I) weren't chosen for great writing, or incredible impact, or excellent research, or hilarious content… rather than being recognized for being a loving neighbour to my internet friend.

It reminds me of a verse that goes something like this, 'beauty fades and charm is fleeting, but a woman of the Lord is to be praised'. Do I want to be a woman of the Lord - oh yes, please let that be true. But, do I want to also be beautiful and charming as well - yes I admit I do, maybe even more so on some days.

It's that constant vying of flesh and spirit inside me that causes my angst. And I know I'm maybe disclosing too much reality here for some, but the physical world gets it's claws in sometimes, and those deadly things that God hates raise their ugly heads in my life, my mind, my actions. I wish I could say it wasn't so, but it is.

So here I am, with my very first 'award', and I feel disappointed. So pathetic. So true. And I can see that I need to do some damage control. So, I'm going to keep this short, and go hang out on my porch with a coffee, my dog and the good book. Yep, that's where my attitude will get readjusted, where forgiveness can be requested and received. And that's where my focus can change from earthly to eternal rewards.

Forgive me this today,

Lesley-Anne

Community doesn't just happen… it takes time.

2009-08-18T16:54:00.000-07:00

The more time I spend trying to figure out the internet and all of it's nuances, the more I see that it is so much about marketing and networking. And I also recognize that both of these take a lot of time. Occasionally I can't help but wonder what the end result will be to all of my little efforts. And mostly I just keep working away, discovering treasures in people and their words, actively writing, and posting my work. Social networking is a big part of my life now.

This is what I've been learning about social networking so far. If I want to get word out about something I just tell my friends about it on Facebook, and then my announcement will instantly be 'seen' by my friends friends and so on. I can join special interest groups on Facebook and make new 'friends', expanding my network and my ability to spread the word about anything… an event, a book launch, a birthday! If I want to become more involved in the virtual writing world, I can visit writer's blogs, websites, and networks (like Pink Ink Workshop) and dig in a little, posting comments (only after reading their posts, of course) that link back to my own blog or website. And I can blog myself to build a platform for future projects, and I can Twitter… or Tweet… although I haven't gone there and I'm not sure if I will. Then there are also podcasts, and other things that I'm probably not even aware of (yet).

I've learned that I can follow or subscribe to blogs that inspire me and widen my perspective. I've learned how to join networks that again expand my circles and introduce me to the world of writing in new ways. Google Alerts allow me to monitor who else is writing on certain topics, and find other networks for writing women and so on. I can find a niche, discover a new idea, or make a new friend because of the amazing world of the internet.

Social networking creates a sense that I am 'out there', and there's this opportunity to build into and receive support from writers around the world. It's pretty amazing when you think about it. Pink Ink Workshop is an example to me of how a group of writing women can connect, care, and draw out the very best in each other. So many good things have occurred already in just a few months with this network, because of our growing relationships with one other.

The things I have yet to figure out are well defined boundaries… to ensure that I'm not spending too much time in the virtual world, but also engaging in relationships with flesh and blood people. I have to figure out a good writing schedule to allow me to blog regularly without sitting for hours in front of my computer. I have to discover when enough is enough when it comes to online research. But, with all those things in mind, I will forge on because I believe it's a worthwhile endeavor and a way to meet incredible people, learn new things, stay relevant, grow my gifts.

So, I encourage you to make time to get involved in online networks… it's up to you how much or how little you put into this, and it's really just one way to connect. But I believe it's a healthy thing to belong to communities of like interested people, who are actively making a place for themselves, and making friends along the way.

Out there, but still here,

Lesley-Anne

Basement dweller

2009-08-13T13:33:00.001-07:00

A week of days without kids sent me to the depths of… the house! (You thought I was going to say despair, didn't you?) But no, as much as I miss them all, this week has been about seizing the opportunity to reduce, reuse, and recycle… or plain old 'clean' the basement. My husband and I were initially going to spend this week away… then decided to say home… and then came up with the crazy idea of cleaning the square footage in our home that holds almost 10 years of accumulated #%*&@!!!

Now tackling this isn't as easy as it might sound… I'm a pack rat… inspired by thoughts of reusing things at some time in the future and by sentimental attachments to things that are firsts… first picture, first word, first finger painting, first spelling test, first book, first paper mache face mask, first pencil, first macaroni photo frame… you get the picture. Only this collection of sentimental firsts is multiplied by 3 kids and has gotten completely out of hand.

And the sentimentality includes a lot of things belonging to me as well… like files from my old life as a Landscape Architect, letters from everyone you could imagine including old boyfriends (yikes), decor that went out of style in the 80's, my Barbie and Ken that have joined my 11 year old daughters' Barbies and Kellys in a large plastic container awaiting the day that her daughter might possibly find them fun to play with. And on and on…

It's a mess downstairs, but with my husband's help and patience and strong personality at work, we have made some great headway. And it's actually had moments of fun as we've been alone with our task and had time to reminisce and talk about all sorts of stuff… like how we're going to stop buying so much stuff without carefully considering where it's going to go and where it's going to end up!

We're done for the day, with plans to visit the dump and the local thrift shop tomorrow morning. Doesn't sound romantic, I know, but we are feeling somehow lighter for our hard work, and are going to celebrate by going out tonight to a new restaurant in town.

And just think how excited the kids will be when they get home to find all that open space downstairs!

Feeling cleaner,

Lesley-Anne

Truth or Dare

2009-08-11T10:22:00.000-07:00

Perhaps a quirky theme of words here, but the terms 'truth' and 'dare' keep popping up over and over again. Like in the Love Dare book my husband and I are reading, which then inspired my posts I dare you and I double dare you . And now twice again over the past few days. Peculiar… I wonder…

My daughter Claire (11) just attended a birthday sleepover. Not my favourite in the long list of social activities that our kids participate in. And I prefer to RSVP to these parties with a negative… especially if the event is not celebrating a birthday. This one was a birthday sleepover, so after some careful consideration, I/we said yes.

So, with our kids all safely tucked into their prospective social lives, Bob and I headed out for an adult evening. We went to see the 'Hip' (Tragically Hip) and had a fun evening in the company of a crowd of about 2500 people who enthusiastically participated in the awesome musical event by dancing, screaming, drinking beer, and smoking pot. No, not us, but the people around us did. As a matter of fact, there was so much toking going on that, by the time the doors to the Performance Center were thrown open at the end of the concert, the smoke poured out with the people! I loved the music, but found the 'Sodomesque' environment a tad distracting at times.

When we arrived home, there were two messages on the answering machine. One was hard to understand… many young girl voices laughing and yelling and talking at once… and the second was our daughter explaining the first message to us. "Hey Mom and Dad", she said, "We are just playing Truth or Dare, and that was just a joke phone call to Malcolm (her 13 year old brother), so don't worry." OK, I won't worry, I thought… of course immediately worrying about what a bunch of 11 year old girls were doing making late night 'crank' phone calls and playing Truth or Dare in the first place.

After picking up my daughter and her friends the following day, I asked questions to try to determine what type of dares and truths were dealt with, how the game happened (apparently it was actually a board game given as a birthday present) and whether there might be any consequences to what had been done or shared as a result. And then I had to decide whether or not I needed to have a follow up 'teaching moment' with my daughter later… and yep, it's going to have to happen.

So, fast forward to about 10 minutes ago when I read today's blog at 'Dances with God', only to find a version of adult Truth or Dare that rocked me. Well, more truth than dare… but my point is that no matter when, if we are willing to speak truth, there will be consequences both for ourselves and often rippling out to others in our lives.

The truth disclosed by the author of Dances with God is in response to 'The Honest Scrap', in which you tell 10 true things about yourself that nobody else knows, and post them on your blog. Various other rules apply which I won't get into here.

Now I'm not saying that I'm ready or willing to disclose the type of truth that was bravely disclosed in 'Dances with God', but I have to say that I respect Pastor Sharon for doing so, and I'm thinking I'd better park here for a while to consider exactly what my heart is saying in response, and how I will apply that in my own life. Truth is often like that… it convicts… creates change… growth.

I've said that my life is an open book… but are some pages still stuck together? Am I daring enough to pry them (painfully) open?

I wonder how truthful I can really be… with you, with myself?

Lesley-Anne

Creative joint venture anyone?

2009-08-07T13:54:00.000-07:00

I'm passionate about developing my poetry blog, my grace notes, into a daily endeavor, primarily for expression, but also for exposure. Isn't that where all writers eventually end up… wanting to touch humanity with what touches our own souls? I do. I hope you do too.

And I love what the combination of imagery and words can do to create a feel and to broaden the experience of the reader/viewer.

If you've already been visiting my grace notes, you will know that the photos and the poetry are not always literally connected. I'm more interested in texture, form, colour, design, dramatic impact and creative interpretation in the visual arts. I'd like to continue in this direction.

My focus will be to concentrate on the writing side of things… and so would like to offer this for your consideration;

… an opportunity to contribute photographs to my blog. In return I would provide hyperlinks to your blog/website and give you full credit for your work.

I recognize that I am taking baby steps at this point, but I'm so aware of the potential there is in helping one another along the way.

Does this appeal to anyone?

Please let me know through email to mygracenotes@shaw.ca

Thanks for considering this,

Lesley-Anne

A tale of two cottages

2009-08-04T10:28:00.000-07:00

Upon being home for a week from family holidays, this is some thoughts on our time away:

Two weeks, two locations, two different cottages, and two very different experiences.

The first week… coming down from the busyness of life, and at the same time getting into the groove of being together 24/7 with kids and husband… brought a myriad of emotions to the surface. Some good, some complicated. But the end result was a rush of creativity from deep in my psyche that found a home in words. Lots and lots of words written into my journal as we drove in the car, sat in the cottage, walked on the beach… even as we sat together in restaurants. Scribbling madly at all times of the day and night… inspired by every imaginable thing, but MOSTLY by the place.

Here is that place…

Even the sheer number of photos taken in and around the cottage show me that this place was special… it had a sense of itself… a history… a unique story to tell… didn't have to prove anything to anyone… it just was. And my love of most things 'old' instantly bonded me to it. And at home in this place, my creative side was at home too rather than hiding and seeking an appropriate time and place to emerge.

I've seldom seen as many doors or cupboards as this cottage had… along with squeaky doors and stairs, dishes with a lighthouse motif, and a washer and dryer in the old garage with it's resident spiders. The stove was crooked, the dishwasher (oh, there was no dishwasher!), and the falling down hand built stone wall with it's half dead perennial border were things that I very quickly grew to love. Was it perfect… no! Was it real and exactly what I/we needed… yep! Some sand in the corners, slightly worn chairs in the living room, and a flagpole in the yard that had given in to the onslaught of salt air over many years. Very quirky…

Things that I remember best are windows thrown open to the sea breezes, a long winding pathway down to the beach… and a view of the horizon when the fog cleared. Then, on the very last evening… whales! Three of them!

So, I can say that our week together in this wonderful, old, creaky cottage was memorable… was fulfilling… was good. The latest postings at my poetry blog 'my grace notes' are reflective of that.

The second cottage was lovely too… but in a neat, well put together, newish kind of way. We could have been anywhere in the world inside the walls of this townhouse…beachy decor abounded, and the views out the windows were not of the sea, but of other vacation homes in the rather densely developed 'neighbourhood'.

It was clean and tidy, beds were comfortable, and appliances of the stainless steel kind. Every need was met, but my soul was not at home there. It's not the first time we've stayed in a vacation property like that one… but the result is always the same for me… slightly disappointed… slightly pensive and wishing for something a little more real. You know… with some there there.

I don't even have a good photo of the outside to show you… just this porch shot of me with a book… snoozing in the sun (which we seldom saw), and another from the porch looking at the surrounding neighbourhood. I think you get the general idea though.

So I walked on the beach in search of what I left behind in the other cottage and it's surroundings. Found a different type of beach with different treasures. Found things to do and places to go with the family… all good, all memories that I/we will cherish.

But, the first cottage is going to stick with me for some time, both in photos and in my mind as a place that stimulated creativity and writing through it's lack of pretence, and it's abundance of character… something that this 40 something writer/poet can relate to.

That's me anyway…

Lesley-Anne

I double dare you…

2009-07-28T15:43:00.000-07:00

After two weeks on the road, our family has arrived home again. And after that length of time with the rest of my (trapped) family members, I have to say that this 'love dare' thing I/we started has applications to not only marriage, but every other relationship I have. Trouble is, I'm recognizing that I'm messing up in almost every case (except for with Buddy, my dog, who is the most forgiving family member I live with, and he was at home these two weeks with the house/dog-sitter).

Anyway, the man in my life (my darling hubby of 22 years) and I, found it hard to consistently read a chapter a day while on vacation, so we are about to start again on the daily dare thing now that we are back home. He thinks we'll be able to focus better. I think it might just be a different type of struggle for focus, but I'm still game.

This morning I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat on the porch to read "Day 7 - Love Believes the Best"… for the second time. I find I have to read things two and three times these days for the words to really sink in (or is that just a sign of aging?) So I read the chapter and I did my fair share of twitching and fidgeting as I felt both self-righteous and guilty at the same time. Then I got to my favourite part… the dare!!!

Today it was all about writing lists… two lists. One to focus on the positive characteristics of my man… one on the negative. And then the lists were to be put in a secret place for later… for what I wondered?

It felt weird writing down some of the things I did, but in another way it was good to really search out words to express all the good (bad and ugly) things that I felt about my husband. And I soon saw that the positive list was longer than the negative… that was a surprise :) And, I also saw that some of the same things were on both lists, but in different ways.

For example… being a leader was on the positive list… while being a control freak was on the negative list. Just a slight twist in perspective takes a good thing and turns it sour. Back to the concept of love believing the best rather than the worst about those we care about, right? Seems I need a wee bit of rehabilitation in this area. But, one day at a time.

So, my lists are written, and hidden. And I'm waiting for what comes next. In the meantime I'm searching for my man's hiding spot, and hoping his positive list is longer too.

Oh, you can get this book online or at your (my local) Christian bookstore.

Willing to change,

Lesley-Anne

I dare you…!!!

2009-07-17T16:04:00.000-07:00

We have been on family vacation for a week now… from our drive down Hwy 97 into the US, enjoying the hot arid climate of the Okanogan Valley of Washington State, not much different than Kelowna, our home. Then, along the Historic Columbia River Highway into Portland… amazing scenery, wonderful meals, different hotels each night, and lots of together time. It took some getting used to… being together 24-7!

Started something new today… day seven of holidays and day one of 'The Love Dare'… a book I picked up yesterday in a Seaside, Oregon book store. It caught my eye because I'd heard of it in a couple of different places. Watched the movic 'Fireproof' with the family, in which this Love Dare is a concept undertaken by the main character to save his failing marriage. Each day for (40?) days, a different reading along with an application immediately applied in my marriage… so, not just heady stuff, but real life stuff.

I think it's going to be hard. I don't know if I can do it.

And having spoken those negative words here… ironically here is day one's 'Dare':

The first part of this dare is fairly simple. Although love is communicated in a number of ways, our words often reflect the condition of our heart. For the next day, resolve to demonstrate patience and to say nothing negative to your spouse at all. If the temptation arises, choose not to say anything. It’s better to hold your tongue than to say something you’ll regret.

Here goes…

Do you twitter?

2009-07-06T16:20:00.000-07:00

I've been online a lot lately, trying to find out what blogs are interesting, who's saying what, reading what, following what. I've been networking a wee bit and trying to make connections with potential readers, but most of all I've been blogging on my blogs.

It's a tad overwhelming trying to figure it all out… and wondering at times why I'm trying to conquer the virtual world… or even get a handle on something that is a constant moving target. Bottom line is I really just want to write, receive the ocassional comment, and know that I've somehow connected with a real person out there. That is enough for me. For now.

There's just so much to learn, and I still get pretty excited when I figure out something new… like hyper-linking, or pasting badges, or downloading photos to my blog. What might be taken for granted by other more technologically adept bloggers, is still thrilling for me.

And I sometimes forget things I've done in the past… but am reminded by emails that arrive from places I've subscribed to, Google alerts I've set up, or networks I've joined. And I begin to see that I just don't have time to do it all well, so I do what I can and focus on the writing more than anything else.

Because I've discovered that I have to write to be whole… and I write to get out all the stuff that has been churning around inside me for years… and I write to connect with others that might be feeling the same things… and I write to perhaps shed a little light, give a little hope, share a little humanity with other humans.

One day I might be inspired to involve my graphic designer brother to design an attractive and creative blog environment for me, but for now the words will have to speak for themselves… with the ocassional photo thrown in… and maybe a badge or two.

I'm happy to share something I was emailed today… it's a list of how to Twitter well… just in case that's something you'd be interested in. For newbies like me, here's what the Twitter homepage says about their service,

"Twitter is a service for friends, family, and co–workers to communicate and stay connected through the exchange of quick, frequent answers to one simple question: What are you doing?"

Twitter isn't part of my life yet… but maybe in time. My cell phone is only a week old (yes, my very first cell phone) I really don't know much about Twitter yet, so I'd better do a little surfing to find out and be able to comment from a more educated point of view. But, if you already Twitter, check this out;

Twitter Checklist (63)

As I dabble in the virtual world, I have to wonder if I dabble in the real world too? Have I got a handle on things here? Am I wasting the time I've been given? Does my life have purpose? Do my values and my actions line up? When I ask that simple Twitter question, 'What am I doing', what would my answer be?

I say that I love God above all else, and that I love people… but, what am I doing? I say that my husband and my family are my top priority… but, what am I doing? I say that writing is a gift that I've been given… but, what am I doing? I say that I want friendships within a community of accountability… but, what am I doing? I say that I want to be strong and healthy… but, what am I doing? I say that I want to be useful, and make a difference… but, what am I doing?

So, I guess Twitter is pretty profound after all. And that's just a first very superficial dabble. Now I need to drag myself away from this blog and refocus on my priorities and then maybe later, I can begin working through the realities of these questions for me.

TTYL,

Lesley-Anne

Mother daughter date night

2009-07-03T23:32:00.000-07:00

Went to the movies tonight with my daughter Claire to see 'Up'. Didn't expect to need kleenex for this movie… but I did. It was wonderful… like Finding Nemo and Wall-E, it was beautifully animated, well scripted, a great story line, and not one bit of toilet humour to speak of. It's amazing how unnecessary this type of adult add-on is in childrens and family movies, yet how common. Thank God for Pixar!

'Up' was a warm and wonderful tale of love and loss and the discovery of things that matter most… relationships and finding purpose… even late in life. The love part of the tale was what initially grabbed me and held me and had me seeking out my hubby for a hand holding walk when I came back home. I don't want to spoil the movie for you, but see it if you can. I can promise you that it will touch your heart, make you laugh, and you might even clap your hands at the end.

I'm going to ask for the DVD when it comes out, and add it to some of my other fav's… Enchanted, White Christmas, The Princess Bride, Nacho Libre, Ratatouille and Master's of Disguise. Aren't movies fantastic!

Going to the theater is still a bigger than life experience for me… the popcorn tastes better there than at home, and there's something so romantic about looking up at the big screen. And to think I wasn't allowed to go to the movies until I was 16! But, that's another story:)

Good night all,

Lesley-Anne

But I don't feel old!

2009-06-29T08:10:00.000-07:00

This is a post about hair, and the way it makes you feel to have a style and colour that works, and portrays on the outside the image of who you think you might possibly be on the inside.

I was cruising around the net this morning and found "Going Gray Looking Great", a site dedicated to going women transitioning from processed to natural hair! Which had me thinking about my own hair and what colour it really is underneath the 'highlights', chunks and streaks. And do I really want to become acquainted again with the real me?

But, first, something I wrote a couple of years ago before the real, hardcore, effects of menopause began to take hold. I thought it might be interesting to see what I was thinking then, compared to present day when physical evidence is much more apparent!

"Skin Deep:

Every once in a while, OK, let’s be honest, almost daily, I find myself staring in a mirror, and what starts as a quick fix of the hair or a lipstick touch-up becomes a critical assessment of what I see. I push and pull my face, considering my chin’s defining curve, or how the lines on each side of my mouth -- my smile lines -- remain long after my smile is gone. And then, while I stare in an unkind way at my refection, my mind wanders to consider changing what I see... 'Botox'... and other kinds of procedures that are mainstream in our culture and affordable, begin to lure me dangerously close. Part of the attraction is vanity, no doubt about it, but part of it is because the age I feel inside doesn’t match how I look on the outside. It’s easy to get stuck in the dichotomy of this.

One recent and memorable morning, as my husband and I lingered over our last breakfast in Maui, an older couple sat down at the table next to us. I was soon mesmerized by them. They appeared to be at least 80 years old and on vacation just as we were. And they were in love. They spoke in hushed voices -- she reaching over to touch his face. She smiled, eyes crinkled up in a brown, age spotted and furrowed face, and I caught a glimpse of unique beauty. The woman’s face wasn’t pretty, or smooth or made up to be more beautiful, but it was full of joy. Her face radiated joy. It radiated the beauty that only time can bring, the beauty of a woman loved for many years. And a woman who loved herself as she was.

Now I don’t pretend to know her life’s details, or know much beyond my obviously superficial observation, but seeing that woman made me stop and consider what true beauty really is. Which brings me back to the mirror and the face I look at each day with a little disappointment. And as I, and perhaps you too, occasionally give consideration to altering the signs of aging, I wonder if it might be better to embrace my age and stage as a gift? Aren’t the lines I would choose to erase the very indicators of wisdom and character, tried and tested and true? Would I wipe the slate clean of what proves me to be a survivor, creating a taut canvas rather than a beautiful masterpiece made more priceless with years? Some days I come awfully close to doing so.

It’s a battle, and one I am sure to fight again and again over the years. But, I’m determined to not give in to the message that says youthfulness equals happiness. I will seek to discover the joys of my aging beauty in new ways, ways sprinkled generously with wisdom and grace, rather than covet the untried, wild and illusive beauty of youth."

Two years after writing this heart felt piece, I can tell you that the battle has become more violent… the casualties including my middle, my face, my hair, my emotions, and my mind… not necessarily in that order and certainly not all at once, but still, I've found that this new reality of living in a mid-menopausal body is very difficult at times.

When I wrote 'Skin Deep', my concerns were limited to wrinkles… but now that the rest of my body has suddenly become involved, it's not so easy to philosophize and muster up that same resilient approach to aging. Every morning when I get dressed I grieve a little about my waistline, and as I take Maca nutrient supplements with my hot coffee, I consider whether they will really do what they promise… to balance and energize me enough to make a difference. I'm trying to figure out how to love myself again in a newly shaped body and how to accept this a reduced capacity in the task and productivity parts of me. It's not going to happen overnight!

So, just for fun, I thought I'd take a look at a few hairstyles that I've played with over the past couple of years… and consider whether they might work in gray. 'Cause gray and blond are not that different… are they?

Here goes…

Tell me what you think!

It is 'well'

2009-06-25T16:13:00.000-07:00

It has begun…

With the final written exams, the last day of classes, the carefully chosen teacher gifts, the return to the now empty school building to pick up report cards, and the arrival of summer solstice and long evenings of twilight… summer has officially begun for us. And as much as I've longed for these days of non-committed hours and spontaneous relaxation, I have to admit that the first few hours have been riddled with anxiety.

Picture 6 - 16 year old boys in my living room playing COD4 and hanging their long legs over the edges of our couch and chairs. Picture the same boys texting and making phone calls, and eating and drinking and acting like they live here… which is what I thought I wanted to have happen just a few short days ago. Picture me standing awkwardly behind the couch, trying to be the charming host, offering up interesting conversation and getting very little response and absolutely NO eye contact. Picture my daughter looking at me with panic in her eyes, retreating to her room for a little quiet time, and my 13 year old son trying hard to fit in with his older brother and friends. Noise, testosterone, nervous energy, angst, stilted conversation and I soon retreat as well… to the laundry room to fold some clothes… feeling like the odd mother out for no real reason other than the voices in my head that tell me it is so.

Then the voice asks me what they are doing here in the first place, and a wee bit of resentment starts to build. And that's never a good thing.

There's an idealized picture in my head (and in my husband's head too, I think) of what we'd like our home to be. We want to be the place where our kids and their friends gather, where they want to be. We think that's a great gift to give our kids, and it works for us as well because we don't have to worry about where they are and what they are doing.

We talk about it, plan for it in how we build our home, invest in it (put in a pool last summer)… and it's all great in theory, but when it starts happening in real life… it's a bit scary. I feel so ill-equipped for the role of hostess to these 16 year old kids… and I don't know why. I'm not sure what to say or not to say… whether to give them space or whether to engage with them. I know food is needed, but I don't really know how to let them eat and spill and not clean up and not say thank you. When they are here in our home I feel like I don't belong here myself… which is not a great way to feel.

Anyway, the 16 year olds came and went and I survived, somewhat shakily and inadequately in my own mind. Today we are hosting a more manageable and comfortable and interactive 11 year old friend of my daughters… and that is just so much better. Albeit this child is more like a niece, but I don't feel the nervousness when she is here. And I have to admit I don't feel nervous when 13 year old's are here either. There's just something about those big boys that makes my heart beat faster and I'm going to have to figure out some way to get over these feelings fast.

My husband always thinks it's about the physical space we need to be together in one building… and sees the soon to be completed basement 'rec. room' as the solution to all of our problems. Then the gaming will take place one floor beneath me, the food will be spilled out of sight, and the long legs will have dedicated space to stretch out in. And sleepovers will even be possible - yikes!!!

Maybe that's the answer to everything… or maybe I just need to create a different kind of space in my head and in my heart for these big man-children who really don't mean me any harm, are just figuring things out socially, and who really just like having a place to hang out in, with a mom who asks odd questions and all. Maybe my capacity needs stretching… my grace a little exercise… just maybe…?

Quite often, it's actually me that needs to grow up!

Ouch!

Lesley-Anne

This is summer…

2009-06-16T10:08:00.000-07:00

Well, it's finally here. The kids are finishing up school this week, and our family vacation is only a few weeks away. And we are all so very ready this year.

Summer camp, weekends on the lake, trips to the ocean, and time at home with friends are all conjured up in my memories of summer's past. So many good times with people we love in places we will never forget.

I thought I might
just share a few moments with you.

Day's end -- surfing's done

Beach cookout… mmmm… s'mores and red wine

Riding shotgun for channel boarding

Claire with salted beach hair

Evening light on S. Chesterman Beach

Sun kissed Malcolm at the beach cookout

Tidal pool life

Bob's dockside view of things

So, I bid you adieu for a few days… and trust that you might also
choose to take time this summer to sip a glass of chilled wine,
laze in the sun, walk along a beach,
and read a good book,
splash the kids,
kiss your love,
and admire the incredible view
from here.

Love,
Lesley-Anne

Who am I?

2009-06-11T11:04:00.000-07:00

It's eleven o'clock and all seems not quite as well as I think it should feel.

I've managed to spend almost two hours on the computer this morning, administrative hat firmly set on my head, and organized events, coordinated lives, planned holidays, answered various other emails, solved technical glitches… so, why do I feel like I haven't really accomplished much at all?

Every time I sit in front of my computer, I come away feeling like it's 'time well wasted' (like that commercial for… I can't remember what). I talk about this issue of time wasting with others who also spend time on their computers but don't feel how I do. Why is that? What's different about them than me… not much really… just their feelings on things.

Now I'm not saying that every time I'm online it's a good use of time… sometimes I really am just surfing! But, surfing's good too… it is a type of research with underlying purpose to it… yet I've convinced myself that it's not good either, and even worse, I feel GUILT!

So I guess that's what I'm feeling right now… the rational part of my brain (wearing the 'administrator's' hat) is saying look at what you just accomplished. The emotional side of my brain (wearing the 'I must be everything to everyone at all times hat') is telling me that the dishes are still on the table, the laundry is still wet in the washer, the weeds are still growing in the garden, my hair is still un-ironed, not to mention I'm still not made up, and I don't know that my outfit is fit for much other than opening the door to get the mail (which is still in the box).

And, the emotional side is winning out right now… with physical and mental side effects… tight chest, lump in throat, shallow breath, slightly scattered thoughts.

Which makes me SO MAD! And, like all the other areas of challenge in my life, I try and try to live the truth rather than give in to the lies about myself or what I should be doing, should be like, should say, should wear etc. Yet, the lies are deeply rooted and sometimes take over… like weeds that grow faster than the more tender plants in the same garden bed… in this case, the bed of my heart and soul.

I do know what to do. I have to name the lies and then yank them out by the root. What do I mean by that? Well, sometimes that means writing them down, sometimes that means saying them out loud, and sometimes that means praying about them… and calling them what they are… LIES.

And then, I need to plant something in their place. Often that means a word of wisdom from a book I often turn to in times like this. This book contains the most profound and often simple wisdom I've ever come across in my 47 years. Words like,

By yourself you're unprotected. With a friend you can face the worst. Can you round up a third? A three-stranded rope isn't easily snapped

or,

Don't be quick to fly off the handle. Anger boomerangs.

And there's so many more wise words where those came from. Words that might just be strong enough to take hold and grow in the soil of my heart and soul. Words that might be strong enough to overtake the weeds… just maybe… maybe some words about the importance of who I am versus what I do…

OK, so, I'm off to the garden to do some physical weeding now, with the intent of removing at least one weedy lie in the process. I'll let you know how that goes later.

Gloves going on,

Lesley-Anne

The Meeting

2009-06-10T10:30:00.000-07:00

It's odd
waiting for you like an old friend
with mutual history
while truthfully
our contact has always been announced
by the bling
of 'you've got mail'

I sit
awkwardly
in the lobby wing back chair
as canned music
accompanies my composition of
introductory sentences
witty conversation
anticipated silences

And I wonder
will you like me
with
skin on?

Lesley-Anne Evans
June 2009

In a London Fog!

2009-06-09T11:27:00.000-07:00

Last night I went on a little date with my husband… just for an hour to escape from the house and get a little face time together. We ended up at Starbucks, and when I looked over the menu I decided on a new drink.

A London Fog is new to me… I've heard someone order it before, but had no clue what it was. So, I decided that I was up for a manageable adventure in my life, but needed to know a little more about what I was ordering.

I looked at the 16-something trendy 'Barrista' and asked,

"What's in a London Fog?"

He looked over the counter at me, and said,

"Well, it's Earl Grey tea, with shots of vanilla, and half water, half steamed milk. And the tea is really cool… it comes in it's own little fabric bag that floats in your cup."

I swear to you… that's what he said! He didn't smile, blink, or give any indication that he knew that tea ALWAYS comes in little fabric bags that float in your cup. I looked him directly in the eye and said,

"Well, I guess I'll take a tall London Fog."

Then I sat with my new drink, and marveled at how the fabric bag floated there, and shared a good belly laugh with my husband. And I wondered how many other young employees thought that this new tea bag thing was "really cool", having no idea that they are living in a bit of a Starbucks- induced, London Fog of their own!!!

Bottoms up!

Lesley-Anne

Are you kidding me?

2009-06-05T10:38:00.000-07:00

So I've started this 'Google alert' thing where you can actively follow any subject of interest, and in my case right now, it's menopause… initially to see what other people are writing on the subject, and to make some connections that might be of interest to me or to others reading this blog.

I've been notified three times weekly of many different types of sites and blogs, mostly medical in nature, but a few others by women who are writing through this phase of life, just like me. I usually glance over the extensive list and then follow one or two leads to see where they take me. I'm usually inspired by the name of the site or blog, then by the tone of the first line provided by 'Google alert'.

This morning I just got in from an invigorating walk with a friend and our two dogs. We walked and talked for an hour… the time evaporated as we discussed many topics like parenting and writing and exercise. It was really great fodder for the rest of the day of alone time doing the things that need doing in my home. (all is going well with the 5 kids and 2 dogs… although one 'guest' consumed four heaping bowls of honey nut cheerios at breakfast… not that I'm counting!)

Anyway, before I got to my domestic chores, I checked my emails and my 'Google alerts' and then followed one posting with an interesting name and ended up here. Now I'm just beginning to understand a little about the complex physical changes that take place during menopause… the hormone changes that lead to physical experiences that I've been enjoying for about a year and a half. I don't have a huge desire to know a lot… I'm just too lazy to wrap my head around too many scientific facts. Sorry.

But this posting has taken quite a different approach than any I've read so far… and it's quite a concept (or series of theories) to wrap my head around this morning. I had no idea that menopause was an example of evolution tied into the natural selection process… did you? Apparently we as women have made adaptations to our reproductive cycle to allow us to be better available to our children and our grandchildren as care givers, or, alternately, to enjoy better sex in our old age without fear of unwanted pregnancy, and, as if that wasn't enough, that our menopause may actually be 'a mistake'. All due to this damning proof that as humans, our fertility shuts down while we are still capable of having children. Apparently this doesn't happen with any creature in the animal kingdom. We humans are unique (big clue here)

Sorry for sounding snide, but I don't know of many women who would ever choose to evolve into the hot flashing, night waking, hormonally imbalanced, emotionally strung out versions of ourselves ON PURPOSE… even if it is to be a better mother, grandmother or have better sex! Sex is the last thing on the minds of most menopausal women!

As far as the mistake part… whose mistake would that be? One can't have an evolutionary discussion and then pull some loose theology into it at the end to take the blame, can one? Or, was it an evolutionary mistake… I don't know because I don't pretend to be an expert on this at all (yet something else I'm not an expert on). So you can certainly fault me for spouting off on this without having all the facts. But hey, I'm menopausal!

Now the author of this blog is not taking personal responsibility for authoring any of these theories, just posting them… so do they believe any of this to be true? I don't know. All I'm saying is it's all pretty far fetched, in my opinion, and it makes me wonder who authored those theories in the first place, and were their wives involved in the editing process?

Scratching my head on this one,

Lesley-Anne

5 kids, 2 dogs, sports, exam prep and mid-30's

2009-06-04T12:19:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not in my mid-30's, though I wish it were true. I mean the temperature here this weekend will be in the mid-30's… hot and dry and sunny. Which is great unless you are trying to keep 5 kids and 2 dogs cool and without heat-stroke, as they play soccer and baseball. They are certainly old enough to take precautions (the kids, I mean), bring their own water, sit down when overheated, but still it's a big responsibility to keep them healthy and happy.

Our good friends headed out on a flight to Toronto this morning… sans 2 kids and dog. Which is why our usual brood has expanded somewhat. Three and a half days without kids sounds rather lovely to me… urban, recreation, adult, culture, celebration, romance… what's not to love about that! And, they deserve this time away. They have worked hard to achieve this level of success and I salute all that they have sacrificed to gain this recognition and status (it's a company perk, their trip).

My company perks are usually hot and fresh and black - straight from the coffee maker, or a perk might involve taking a longer lunch to blog in, or even taking a lunch that involves sitting at a table and eating something other than one of the selections from the plastic containers in the fridge. I'm not complaining… I love my job, my place of employment, and sometimes I even like my responsibilities. But, I'm not that crazy about the incentive program here… not many trips to Toronto on the horizon for me!

So, back to the brood. The kids are excited… cleaned their rooms and are prepared mentally for the days of 'one big party' (in the words of my daughter's best friend when vocalizing her anticipated weekend at our house - YIKES!) And, I'm excited too. It's like having cousins come to stay… they are that close to us. It's a wonderful thing to have friends that are like family in so many ways. We love them, they love us, we drive them crazy, they drive us crazy etc. etc.

And, being the end of the school year, it can't all be about one big party. The kids all have homework and exam prep to do. That's not going to be easy when all they will want to do is play. Study hall times sound kind of fun… to me, but to them, well, I'll be wearing the 'party pooper' hat several times this weekend, I'm sure!

My biggest concern… and one that I have to take care of right away so this blog is going to be very short… my biggest concern is the amount of food that will be consummed this weekend. Not from a cost perspective, but from the perspective of how much do I cook and will they ever be full perspective. We are talking 3 teenage boys and 2 tween girls… all active, all hungry, all the time! So, I'm thinking pasta, bread, more pasta, more bread, lots of meat, lots of veggies (with dip) and many snack options. And an ever replenished jug(s) of ice tea and lemonade in the fridge. Oh yeah, it's gonna be fun! A couple of ground rules… don't eat without asking first… and make yourself at home doesn't mean helping yourself to… yes, you guessed it… food! Again, my anxiety on food quantities!

Well, that's about all for now. I have to get to the grocery store before I pick up the kids from school.

Did I mention the dogs also eat? And walk… and poop… and bark…

All in a days work!

Lesley-Anne

Do I feel too much?

2009-06-01T09:26:00.000-07:00

It's funny how some things turn out completely opposite to how you thought they would. How our projected thoughts for the future are often so off base. And with this realization comes the 'aha' (borrowed term) that we know so very little about stuff… we think we are wise, but it's all relative and we'll probably never ever figure it all out. Once in awhile we are given tiny tidbits to chew on… and I'm thankful for those.

So today I'm chewing on the idea of maturity… particularly what it looks like to be growing in emotional maturity. Turns out it might be different than I thought, or what I've read, or what those closest to me say. Of course, this is just my opinion… can't prove it (yet).

Now people say things and write things that we read and listen to and take inside ourselves and believe without question… sometimes those things even become values for us, things to aspire to, measuring sticks, when really they are just someone's opinion… and not necessarily truth or even relevant to who I am or who I am supposed to be.

Those people closest to us speak things that we unquestioningly accept as truth too… and while I appreciate the input of those I love very much, sometimes they too can say things that are not quite right… so we must be careful that we sieve everything through a very fine mesh. Who I believe I am effects how I live my life… so who do I believe I am… and where does this ultimate definition come from? My faith is foundational… but am I sourcing this maturity thing out… and then am I living in line with what God says maturity looks like?

So I'm just starting to consider what maturity might look like; what wisdom might look like? I thought I had some understanding of these two things… that at this point in my life (mid-life - yikes!) my aspirations were that I would act a certain way and believe certain things and be strong and resilient and confident and share these things with others on the journey. But I'm beginning to wonder if being emotionally mature might look different than I thought it would? That what I have to offer might be different too?

Culture tells me that emotional maturity looks rational, intuitive, in control, well thought out, among other things. My husband certainly has these expectations after being married for 23 years this June 6th… he looks at our communication techniques, and my control over emotions in this area, as a sign of maturity in our relationship. I have to admit I don't meet his expectations here.

And I think of the things that I struggle with the most… the (over?)sensitivity of my feelings, the depth of my emotions, the passion of my expressions, and I feel like I'm not growing in my ability to control these at all, rather I'm growing in my ability to perceive them, and express them, instead of squelch them or pretend that they don't exist. And that causes conflict sometimes, I admit!

So, here's my emerging thought today… maybe maturity and wisdom brings a certain softening of the heart rather than hardening or controlling… that feeling empathy and compassion and mercy, and relating to the human condition in all it's joy and all it's tragedy… and having the confidence to speak/write openly about it, and having the guts to do something about it… that's maturity?

There's this song that we've sung at church that has the lyrics, "break my heart for what breaks Yours," and so right here, right now, I'm beginning to think that feeling the things that I do, is actually a gift rather than a curse. I want my heart to feel… my tears to be good and acceptable and a sign that I care about things outside of myself. Don't you? Is that what having a life that is "an open book" means?

As I continue with this line of thought I will source out what God says about this… that will be the ultimate truth for me. So, if you are interested, stay tuned…

Lesley-Anne

Do not hurry as you walk with grief

2009-05-29T11:43:00.000-07:00

This poem was shared by Art's sister Karen at his funeral. I think it's beautiful.

Do not hurry
As you walk with grief
It does not help the journey
Be not disturbed
By memories that come unbidden
Let God support you
Be gentle with the one who
Walks through grief
If it is you,
Be gentle with yourself.
Swiftly forgive
Walk slowly
Pausing often
Take time, be gentle
As you walk with grief.

Adapted from a Celtic Prayer

Surf's up!

2009-05-28T09:04:00.000-07:00

This virtual world of ours is quite amazing… from 'Google Alerting' any subject you'd ever want to keep tabs on, to making new 'friends' in continents you've never visited (one of which I'm going to see in real life very soon, because she's coming to Canada from Australia and will be in my town next month - how about that!), to learning amazing and lesser known facts, to telling people things that you'd never dream of sharing with your friends… it's a lot to get used to. And it takes a wee bit of wisdom and a whole bunch of time management skills to navigate the waters skillfully. I'm still learning, but man, I love to surf!

I've learned how to create a hyperlink, how to set up a newbie, very simple network, how to blog and other things. But in other things I must appear as techno impaired as I really am to those of you in the know. Like what I did while trying to create links between blogs and network, I created a circuitous loop that goes no-where… and I can't seem to get rid of this useless link now that it's there (imbedded?) Then there's the 'badge' that I somehow changed on my network… it used to be this funky little badge that I enjoyed posting other places I visit, and now it's blank… no matter what I do I can't seem to change it back to the original one or create another one! Ahhhhh!!!!!

And when it comes to blogging, I can't seem to figure out how to print out what I wrote if it's more than a page long. And, then there's the ever looming as yet unanswered question of how to blog to an audience… rather than to a void… still trying to figure this one out. For example, I struggle with feelings of guilt and wonder if I'm being completely self-serving when I post a comments on some blogs (part of me hoping they might check my blog out in return!)

I know, I know, these are just little problems, but I really wish I could sort them out and feel like I have a handle on the basics.

And there's also the frustration of creating networks that are active for a time and then silent for much longer. This has happened to me twice… once within an existing network and once with a brand new one. And, how do you grow them up into something that has a life of it's own… rather than being the individual who draws everyone out into conversation, answers everyone's questions, initiates all discussions, groups, etc. etc. I just don't have the time to do all that all the time!

Virtually speaking, right now in my life, I think blogging is top of my list of what the internet offers. I'm willing to just write and wait and see where that takes me. It's not the only writing I do, and I don't rely on it for income… but it allows me to express myself without too many concerns about political correctness, editing, or correct grammar (I do the best I can without stressing over it).

And there's also the online writing contests, the following of inspirational blogs that come to me in regular e-mails, and the free downloads of awesome music, and the reminders of great concerts in my area courtesy of Ticketmaster, and the posting of writing to other websites, and the ongoing research and development and design of websites, blogs, and other things virtual.

All this on top of being a wife and a mom… it's no wonder I'm tired by the time the kids come home from school.

Oh, I received this today on my Google Alert… maybe it will interest you… can't vouch for the truth of it, 'cause I'm not much of a Yoga or weight lifting expert. But maybe it will be something you can relate to.

Three Steps to Stop Menopause Suffering Before It Starts

I'm back on the shore of domestic duties for now. Perhaps I could incorporate some yoga into folding the laundry???

Lesley-Anne

Things I'm going to do differently today:

2009-05-27T10:04:00.000-07:00

• Let the answering machine screen my calls, and then call back when I have the energy to talk. Do not feel guilty about this choice.

• Fix my hair and put on something attractive or cute, rather than stay in my pj's until time to pick up the kids.

• Walk the dog. Do not procrastinate. Walk the dog.

• Have lunch with my teenage son, and be comfortable in the silence of our non-conversation.

• Make a stress-less dinner, 'cause every Wednesday is a busy day. Today, food is fuel.

• Be content.

• Match the socks that are single and lonely in the bottom of the laundry basket. Throw out the ones that don't have a mate. Don't feel sorry for them!

• Look for opportunities to smile and maybe even laugh once or twice. And, if I can't do that on my own… call a funny friend. And, if I don't have one, begin looking.

• Keep my blog short and sweet. Don't drown people in words.

And, enough said. Carpe diem, my friends!

Lesley-Anne

The duck in my pool

2009-05-26T10:14:00.000-07:00

So, why do I have two blogs… and what is the difference between them? Maybe I'm off base here, but I really do think these two places allow different parts of me to emerge. While there's this deeper more spiritual side of me, and while I believe with all my heart that God is the foundation of, the purpose for, the captain of my life ship, there's also a part of me that is separate… gosh… does that sound anti-Christian?

I've found myself surfing some Christian Women's sites of late, and I have to say that while I admire them, while I learn by reading them, this other separate part of me says, but what about the times when I don't relate… the times I question… the times of darkness and I feel separation from a real close connection with God??? What about those? I don't know, but I feel these times are sort of glossed over by some Christians and painted into a pretty picture most of the time. I just don't want to, I've grow tired of, spiritualizing absolutely everything in my life… and thinking that if I just pray the right thing, say the right thing, read the right scripture, that this too will pass.

Yep, it will pass, for sure it will… I trust in God that it will . But, I want to be alive and fully aware of how I am feeling, thinking, acting, observing RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE of these other times. Somehow… I think that I'd be less than forthright or a shadow of myself if I just glossed over these places in my life that are a little off-kilter, or off the beaten path. They are who I am too. God didn't say only focus on the mountaintops, or on the spiritual highlights… did he?

So, I'm still working through what this means in my life… and obviously, but the very fact that I currently have two different blogs… one focussed on the good and Godly, and one focussed on the real means I'm a little bi-polar in my approach and not yet fully willing to be or accept or live what I'm suggesting I should live. But the blogs are linked, not hidden, and neither is this struggle I feel.

Truth be told I'm still a little afraid… of the Christian women knowing this other side of me… the doubting, struggling, slightly profane at times side, and of the other non-religious women - knowing the spiritual side, believing, connecting with God, living my life as an act of worship side! Does that mean I'm more concerned about what these groups of women think than anything else? Is that ridiculous 'need to be liked' the guiding force behind what I do, say and blog? PLEASE NOT THAT! But hey, I'm human like the rest of you… and so that need to be accepted is real. I've certainly come a ways from that being the guiding force, but it's still there, rearing it's ugly little head and so I need to figure out what that means, and how to deal.

So, I hope you can hang on with me through this process of figuring out who I really am and whether I can somehow take these two parts of me -- the Sometimes Suicidal Mama -- and the -- My Gracenotes -- parts of me, and combine them into a relateable whole that brings something to the table that is palateable. And that's gonna take a while and a whole lot of trust in God's plans… not just mine.

Which brings me to the insight that I believe God gave me yesterday… and the reason that I was going to post it on My Gracenotes rather than SSM… yet after 'writing this down' right now, with you, I believe I will post it in both places (how's that for taking a risk)

So, yesterday morning I got up early… I've had times where I regularly do this, but this Spring has not been one of them. Lots of reasons and excuses come to mind. Anyway, I managed to get up with my 5:40 alarm, took a quick shower and then took my bible and notebook out on the porch with me. I read a bit, listened to the sounds of birds in the early morning garden, and then it happened… the duck… darn that duck… dropped from the sky into our pool. The mood and the atmosphere of peace and Godly connection was immediately broken for me.

My dog dropped down into his 'point', quivering with excitement at this visit from the duck (who returns many times during the day, much to our frustration), and I got up and scared Mr. Duck away with waving of arms and clapping of hands. The dog ran around the pool deck sniffing and wagging his tail, as I returned to the porch again to try to regain my quiet time.

I felt ticked off at first… as I sat and watched the dog and realized that it was almost time to wake up the family. And then, I really watched the dog… and recognized something on the verge of profound… at least it was for me at that moment.

Buddy, my dog, was sitting at attention at the corner of the pool, ears perked up, looking at the sky and wagging his tail. It was a funny posture… sitting while wagging… but Buddy has a very small tail and it was wagging excitedly. He did what he always does after a duck encounter… he sits and waits for the duck to come back… excitedly waiting, expectantly waiting, for what he KNOWS is going to happen again. He shows no interest in his breakfast, in me, in anything but the duck's return. And, due to his amazing ears, Buddy always hears the duck while he's a long way off… before I can hear him, Buddy gets to his feet and looks at the sky… and then the duck comes back, splashing into our shallow end.

I'd been reading verses in my bible yesterday morning that you probably know… the Lord's prayer… and Jesus is telling his disciples how to pray and it said, "Your Kingdom Come," and those particular words attracted me for some reason… as I thought about what it would be like to pray this, and ask God to take over so many ways in my life, and make it about His Kingdom rather than mine. So, I was thinking this just before the duck encounter.

What hit me between the eyes as I watched the whole thing with the duck and the dog was that Buddy illustrated to me what it might be like to have a Kingdom Come heart. If I was able to live the way Buddy illustrated … anticipating, expecting God to show up and focus on that whole-heartedly… wow, might that be a wild way to live. I know God is there… why not look for signs and sounds of his presence? Now, I'm not suggesting I sit and don't eat or do anything, but I'm saying I need to be attentive and watching. And when God shows up, I'll be ready for whatever he's got going on at that particular moment!

Anyway, that picture of the dog's anticipation and joy and the recognition of an application to my life was unexpected and awesome.

Gotta go, I hear quacking in the distance.

Lesley-Anne

Time flies…

2009-05-25T10:11:00.000-07:00

Posting on the weekend is harder than during the week… too many people around the house looking over my shoulder or calling to me from the kitchen, or laundry room or garage. So, I'm back this morning with very little to say… but, give me a few moments and that is sure to change!

I know that I want to say something witty, something that will stick with you or will cause you to belly laugh or just smirk with a recognition that you aren't as crazy as you thought you were, or you are less crazy than me, or at the very least, you aren't alone. But I can't conjure that up… can I? I can't be funny if I'm not feeling funny… and I want this blog to be about real life, not well scripted fiction.

So, where does that leave me this morning? And where does that leave us?

Alone in front of our computer screens looking for connection, I think. Alone and needing to express our thoughts and feelings and insights and failures and successes and just stories of our days and nights and lives. Alone is OK, for a time.

But I also know that too much of sitting in front of my computer screen isn't good for me. I tend to let the time slip by, pouring myself into writing and expressing and not take care of the other parts of my life that are actually more important… like caring for my home, or my family, or my health.

Who else out there struggles with this lure of things internet? I'm wondering what it is about being online that condenses time… I can't think of any other activity I do that has the same result.

Laundry takes time… at the very least a full day of back and forth between washer and dryer, but I am aware of each passing minute as I undertake that particular task. Gardening also takes a long time… but strangely enough, most times I feel like I've accomplished a lot in the garden, I come inside to find that only an hour has passed… interesting, huh? The hard work and the needful work of those primary responsibilities (that are hardest to start and complete), actually seem to take less time to accomplish than sitting in front of my computer where time vanishes without any awareness of it happening.

Is there something scientifically proven about this computer time loss thing? Can anyone help shed some light on this for me?

Until I know more, I'm just going to keep it short this morning and choose to get out of my chair and spend time doing other things that I've been short changing in favour of blogging and writing. I'm not saying I'm going to stop writing or doing my blog… cause it's something I do for the joy of it, and cause it's this creative thing that bubbles up and can't be stopped. Even if I write nothing of interest to anyone else, I will still write. But, let's face it friends, I can't just blog or write all day long… that's not my real day job!

Someone commented recently when I said I was writing on my blog, "oh, you're busy entertaining yourself." That really BUGGED me! I thought a few nasty things that went unsaid, but mostly I thought this person really doesn't get what it's like to discover (at midpoint in my life) a purposeful part of myself that fulfills me and has the potential to impact others.

I write because I have to… I would be less than who I am if I didn't. But, I would also be less of who I am if I didn't exercise, sleep, rest, clean, cook, bake, garden, or do the things that I have the 'gulp' PRIVILEGE of doing as a wife and a mother.

So… for today… in the words of Porky Pig, "That's all folks!"

Lesley-Anne

Do you believe?

2009-05-22T09:50:00.000-07:00

It seems there's never enough hours in the day… for what needs doing (including my commitment to writing this blog and other writing that makes me feel alive) and for all the commitments that ripple out with a family of five.

I often wake up with anxiety from instant messages in my brain… to do lists forming before my eyes fully open, and the accompanying thought that there just isn't enough time to do what I think I need to do that day, morning, hour etc. It's a crappy way to wake up!

So, the last thing I felt like doing this morning was to take the few minutes it took to do something for my neighbour (doesn't matter what, that's not the point). But, I was compelled to take the time and do it, and as I did, I prayed that it be a 'sacrifice of praise' to God. Sounds like odd words maybe, but I simply meant that my actions were in a direct response of obedience to what I feel God asks me to do… think beyond my immediate circle of influence and do something completely selfless once in a awhile. I blow this all the time, but on this particular morning, I didn't.

There I was, doing my thing and praying over and over in my head… "sacrifice of praise God, sacrifice of praise." Nobody saw me (except my husband) do what I did… again, not the point of what I was doing.

Then on I went with what I needed to do, which still seemed like a lot.

An hour later the phone rings… it's my son's youth leader phoning with the details for my son's 'sit-in' this weekend, which involves some prep for me too. He started the conversation with the words, "So, about tomorrow night…," and I said, 'Tomorrow night, I thought it was tonight?" and suddenly grace stepped in and flooded over me. I was given, undeservedly, without cost, without asking, the gracious gift of time!!!!!!

So, I'm left with a question… as much for myself as for you…

Do I believe? Could there possibly be a connection between that one tiny selfless act of neighbourliness this morning and the gift of time that I was given a short while later?

Any providence in those events?

Any room in my heart to believe that?

I want to believe.

Lesley-Anne

Dust on, dust off

2009-05-20T13:05:00.000-07:00

Well, being at home today for the entire day resulted in my creation of a huge to-do list. That's always what happens on home days, days when I don't have a writing assignment to complete or anything else pressing means I have to pay attention to the things that haven't been getting my attention lately. And that usually means housework.

I don't like housework. I used to like it, I liked the mindless drone of the vac. and the piles of clean laundry… I never did like cleaning bathrooms (particularly toilets - yuck) but now I don't really prefer any of it. The constant clutter left by all five of us all over the house undoes me, and I find there's so much time that has to go into the de-cluttering before the cleaning can really begin.

So, in a grumpy and slightly martyred frame of mind, I pulled out the duster this morning and began to clean the uncluttered surfaces… which was limited to window ledges, baseboards, door jams, and other surfaces too small to collect much other than dust and the occasional errant bug, dog hair or unidentified crumb. I dusted with my nice faux feather Ikea duster, and worked my way around the main floor of our home, taking note of the tasks that lay ahead after this low impact chore was done. And, the more I looked and thought about all the mess ahead of me, the worse my attitude became.

I was in the piano room with duster in hand when I remembered some dusting of long, long ago, and in particular, a person came to mind. I remembered my grandmother, Chrissy Cook, wheelchair ridden from a spinal operation gone sideways, and how she spent 25 years in a wheelchair with very limited abilities in her upper body and none in her lower. My grandfather (same one as referred to in my last posting) cared for her needs… all of her personal needs, lifting her in and out of the car, bed, plus cooking, laundry, shopping, and gardening and cleaning. Except for dusting. This was one chore that my grandmother could do and enjoyed doing.

She'd hold a cloth duster in her hand, and every morning (I dust bi-weekly because it begins to show after that) my grandmother would wheel herself slowly around the main floor of their 1060's bungalow, and dust all the surfaces she could reach. And, when I was there visiting, I would help to do the surfaces she couldn't reach.

I never heard her complain… as a matter of fact I remember her happily doing what she could… her one small contribution to the upkeep of their home.

I complain. I begrudge my somewhat meaningless and endless list of chores that are involved in caring for our home. I'd rather write. I'd rather pay someone to do the housework… but that's another story. What I'm trying to say is that I've become jaded and lost focus on the reason why I do what I do… why it's important to be a good steward of the things I've been blessed with, and why having a good attitude about it is important. My grandmother could only do the dusting… I'm sure she wanted to do more, but just couldn't so she did it with joy.

So, I think I'd better dust myself off my high horse about keeping our home clean and tidy. It's what I've chosen to do for this season of my life, and what I've been given responsibility for. Yep, I'm going to have days where the mundane nature of the chore takes it's toll. But, when I dust, I'm going to remember my grandmother and be faithful and joyful (most days) in the little stuff.

'Cause maybe it's not so insignificant after all.

LAE

Practicality sets in

2009-05-19T08:57:00.000-07:00

There's a practical side to grieving that happens almost unexpectedly. Like on Saturday afternoon when we met at the house to clean up. I had no idea what that meant, just showed up with Bob ready for whatever needed doing. I'm a fairly practical person, task orientated, I thought.

We're cleaning out the kitchen, she said, so I proceeded to open up the pantry and the fridge and was soon faced with choices I didn't expect. The simply act of deciding what was to be kept and what was to be thrown away made my stomach turn over. We did a bit of chatting as we worked, creating little piles of things on the counter top, a few items worth saving that we might use… canned goods, pre-packaged foods… but my stomach just wasn't cooperating as she asked, what about this, would you use this? I have to admit I wanted to toss the whole lot, but then my practical/thrifty side took over for a little while and I placed a few things in a box to take home later. As did she.

The fridge was easier as the perishables were destined for the garbage. But again, the act of emptying and throwing away was not easy. There was this strange feeling of doing something I shouldn't have been doing, of somehow having less than enough respect for Art, and his intimate life at home (even though he hadn't lived there since December when he moved into hospice).

The men were busy with papers, sorting, discussing, throwing away, collecting. They were talking through it all… admirable, I think. When the kitchen work was done I sat on the bed with them, didn't really know what else to do. I kept looking around for signs of his life, but the room was strangely barren, again probably due to the fact that he hadn't been living in the house for a long time.

My final task was something I decided to do without being asked… I couldn't imagine someone else taking down the photos from his kitchen wall and maybe throwing them away. I organized them into piles, smiling at the pictures of our kids, and the other little mementos that were pinned up there… like the brightly coloured plastic star made by our daughter, and a hand written note wishing him well from another child. Children loved him. He paid attention to them and gave them candy and oreos and pop.

Then we opened a bottle of wine, the guys lit cigars, and we sat on his patio… maybe for the very last time with music from his ipod filling in the silences. Again that feeling of emptiness… strangeness… tightness in my chest, and searching for words. We raised our glasses to Art… talked about life, the days since his funeral, feelings, and then we headed for home.

I remember when my Grandpa died that my mother had to sell the contents of his home, and split the proceeds with her state-side and only brother. She did this alone. I can't remember why nobody else came alongside her in this. She advertised in the paper, held a garage sale, then set up and sold whatever she could and donated the rest to charity. I can't imagine how she did that… watching strangers drive away with the things of my grandpa's life? Or, did practicality just set in and allow her to do the difficult and painful?

In the words of my dear husband, this process of emptying homes and hearts just sucks.

Lesley-Anne

In my face irony

2009-05-14T10:20:00.000-07:00

Ironically, I experienced how difficult it is to do the right, sensitive, caring thing when it happens right in front of me. It's just not that simple.

This morning I was able to stop for a family of ducks crossing the road by our school. Cars on one side of the road had already stopped when I saw a mother duck and 8 little ones heading toward my side. I put on my hazard lights, and prayed for traffic beside me to stop too. Then, with only 4 ducklings safely off the road and 4 more trying to hop up the curb, the traffic began to flow around me and I had no choice but to drive on.

I cried as I drove away and whispered a prayer that they would all be safe. I thought of jumping out of the car and ushering them to safety. But, logic took over, plus I was wearing my pj's, and I realized that it's so easy to judge when we don't know all the facts, so easy to make blanket statements (or write poems) when we don't know the entire situation, and so I stand corrected.

Please forgive my reaction in 'Drive by', as an emotional response to death in a larger sense.

Still sad and ok,

LAE

Drive by

2009-05-12T08:47:00.000-07:00

Did you have a choice --
Starbucks in one hand and
one hand on the wheel,
as he waddled over the centre line?

Did your foot hesitate, move
from gas to brake
or did you simply
drive on,

oblivious to his
small body and bobbing iridescent green head,
caught between the paradise of one ditch
and the other?

footnote: you've really got to wonder if people give a shit these days… and if they see creatures on the road do they try to steer clear or just mow them down without a second thought? I'm thoroughly pissed off right now!

Vacancy

2009-05-11T14:04:00.000-07:00

Lost somewhere in my head --
remembrances of places and facial expressions and words
hand holding and hair washing
and uncomfortable conversations
with hidden requests brought into the light.

Trying to work through this…
start the laundry
and write some technical article
also with words
but the brightness is duller
the heart somehow tighter
and I realize it's not
just another day.

I have in my mind some
things to do
visits to make
special projects to undertake
flowers to lay
words to say or write or shout into the wind…

Not sure how long it will take
to get past this
odd, new, vacant lot of a place
where once you were just down the road
a stop along my way
a perceived obligation of need
now you are
free
and I am left
grieving.

51 years in 6 minutes, 30 seconds.

2009-05-09T08:32:00.000-07:00

I had the honour last night of putting together a slide presentation to represent who Art was in his life.

Art's brother-in-law Henry and I poured over hundreds of photographs, made selections, timed them to music (a beautiful song written for Art several months ago), edited, and finally arrived at a presentation that, we thought, best spoke of Art''s life of relationships, sports, career, and service.

As we watched the final edit, we smiled as the words of the song seemed uncannily timed to certain images. I wonder what the impact will be this afternoon at the memorial service?

And while Henry and I did our very best to put it together, there was this over-riding question of how a 6 minute, 30 second presentation could possibly give enough honour and tribute and fleshing out to a life of 51 years?

It just can't.

It's simply one piece in the puzzle of this strange and awkward grieving process.

Writing through this…

Lesley-Anne

2009-05-07T12:36:00.000-07:00

Art Suke, 1958-2009

Our dear friend Art died yesterday morning, after a long and drawn out struggle with ALS, (Lou Gehrigs Disease) resulting in loss of motion, speech, body function, and some dignity as well. He spent the last four months in hospice, cared for by many good friends,visiting out-of-town family members and an incredible nursing staff. The faithful visits by those who ministered to his body and soul was an amazing thing to witness. Art was well loved and will be missed from our lives.

I am married to Art’s best friend Bob, and as such my role was the same as it has been through their friendship -- somewhat peripheral. I have tried to support Bob by caring for some of Art’s needs, and allow Bob the time and space to do whatever he felt needed to do with his dear friend. I have found the last few months to be the most difficult, with ever increasing demands for personal care for Art,and the fact that I don't deal with illness and suffering well. My heart is too soft in some ways, and a bit stoic in others. Still, he was loved to the best of our abilities by our family -- our children’s ‘Uncle Art’.

There was something about Art that drew me, and held me in an outer circle of influence, sometimes moving closer for certain times such as his visits to our back porch for a cigar with Bob, or Sunday dinner with the family. Art was larger than life, loved to run in races, play good golf and spend time on the lake in his boat. He enjoyed the good life with his friends, yet was sometimes independent and hard to pin down.

Now that he’s gone, I feel a little odd, a little unemotional. I haven’t cried yet, and I wonder when I will? I told the kids about his passing after they got home from school yesterday afternoon, and they were strangely silent -- I expected some words, but I have a feeling that they too were feeling numb. We knew for a long time that he would eventually die, but now that it’s upon us, we are in disbelief.

Bob is processing things differently than I am, and that's normal for us. I want to talk about it, he wants to internalize and hold it together. That's just who he is, and admirable and strong.

Bob says he’s always wondered why Christians don’t celebrate the passing of one of their brothers or sisters into the presence of Christ? Why are we so sad? We should be happy for them and what they are now experiencing for themselves. I know what Bob says is true, and on one hand he’d like to feel like that, but on the other hand he’s really hurting inside too.

Dealing with death is so surreal and unsettling, and there never seems to be the right words to say, or the right actions to take. And things other people say and do can grate on you too. As a young adult, I remember my parents being strangely and almost overly comforted by death, and saying certain things that just didn’t sit right with me. Things like, ‘her testimony during her illness was amazing’, and ‘it’s a blessing that he has gone to be with the Lord… no more pain and suffering and so on.” Man, that bugged me then, and I don’t want to speak like that now, especially to the kids.

Why must we spin it into something good? It hurts to lose someone from your life… yes, that’s the selfish reality, Art is gone from MY life, and I miss him and want him back. Yes, it’s good and right and a blessing to know that Art's suffering is over, and that his faith means that he is 'in a better place', and I believe that I will see him again some day. But for a time, can’t I just be sad and mad and wish him back again with us?

If only our culture was better equipped to deal with death, and to deal with it in a way that isn’t so stuffed down or glossed over. I envy the cultures that wail and cry and scream… and get it all out, and then move on, when the grieving has run its natural course. Or those, like the Irish, that have big parties - wakes - and celebrate life with laughter and good beer and dancing. Our 'Canadian' grief is more like a slow leak in a rubber dingy, it can easily swamp you if you don’t take care. If only the hole were big and the air gushed out quickly, then at least you could swim.

It’s been a long time since someone close to our family died. And it’s been an even longer time since we’ve been present for the days and plans leading up the the final good-bye -- the very first time for our kids. I hope that walking through this process of death and funeral, and being up close with the individuals most effected, will allow our kids to see the reality of what has happened, and that we can talk openly about their fears and sadness and grief and help them to process things in a healthy way that allows them to honour Art, express their pain, and find the strength to move on.

I’ll be preparing the guest room tonight… actually, it’s Graeme’s room that he will have to vacate potentially for out of town funeral guests. And even that is an opportunity to be part of something greater than us, and more personal. Having a grieving friend or relative in our home might help all of us to process and truly believe that the overwhelmingly tragic has happened;

That our dear friend Art Suke, age 51, lover of life, family and friends, died.

A legacy of words

2009-05-06T09:52:00.000-07:00

As I said yesterday, I'm putting together a special gift for my mom. I thought a collection of writing by the members of our family, simply bound in a booklet, might be something that she would appreciate. So, I've been digging around in the basement boxes, through old letters and documents and photos and finding some unexpected treasures.

At first the book was going to be a female thing… but I know now it's got to include the male writers in our family as well. And today's blog is me sharing a couple of gems with you.

The first poem is by my maternal grandmother… written in 1927. I have the original tattered piece of purple paper with her poem written in what appears to be fountain pen. Wow. Here it is,

How

The weary ones had rest,
The sad had joy that day,
and wondered ‘how’
A plowman singing at his work
had prayed
‘Lord, help them now.’

Away in foreign lands they
wondered how
Their simple word had power
at home the Christians two
and three had met,
To pray an hour.

Yes we are always wond’ring
wond’ring ‘how’
Because we do not see
Someone, unknown perhaps
and far away
On Bended Knee.

Chrissie Robinson
1927

The second poem is by my younger brother, Joel Clements.

Memoir

We walked through the fields,
saw lines
where the plough had been,
and followed the furrows
as they snaked behind the hill.

We listened to the wind
and heard
how it tickles dry leaves,
and tells of crickets
in the cat-tails.

We eagerly inhaled the country
into our city lungs,
tasting summer
in the dust
of the dry August heat.

We breathed the air,
filled with fragrance.
It brought fading thoughts
of our childhood
not long passed.

Chasing kittens
in the musty darkness
of the loft,
among sweet scents
of fresh cut hay.

Now we chase our dreams…

Why does it always surprise me when I see predestination in things… that there might be a pattern or a plan to my life and the choices I make, still has a way of catching my breath and stopping me up short. My search in the basement revealed poetry, letters, books and a love of words in past and present generations in my family. My daughter is also a wordy girl… why is that such a surprise to me?

Anyway, today I'm just resting in this place of knowing that I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing and the 'writing on the wall' is more obvious than ever before.

Lesley-Anne

Mom, girlfriends and God

2009-05-05T10:53:00.000-07:00

Only a couple more days until Mother's day… and that window of sending something before its too late is quickly closing. I know I've got to get my package off 'express post' if I have any chance of honouring my mom this year. Why I always wait until the last minute, I have no idea. So, I'm working away today at a meaningful little gift for Mom this year, and I hope that she feels loved when she receives it.

I've come to recognize that my mom and I will never be best girlfriends, and although I'm OK with that, there are times like Mother's Day that I wish it were the case. Mom and I connect on some stuff, but not everything, and certainly not the heart level stuff that I share with a few of my other friends. Mom and I can talk about the weather and other people for hours (not gossip, but facts), but as soon as it becomes personal, well, the conversation lags.

Mom is a wonderful woman, a hard worker, a great cook and baker, a lifetime supporter of mothering, a loving grandmother, but she just isn't my girlfriend. Too many years of history are there between us for us to be light and fun and silly together, I guess. So, the visits can be tense without the humour nor the heart connection.

So, I have to love and accept my mom and our relationship for what it is and what it is not. And I have to be thankful that there are other women in my life, both young and old, that make my life rich and fun and liveable. I would be lost without them.

This morning I had the opportunity to sit with a young girlfriend of mine and just shoot the breeze over a cup of americano. We sat in the window of the coffee shop, looking out at life on the street, and talked about stuff like friends, and jobs and the economy. An hour later, we hadn't solved anything much, but we had talked about a lot. Then we headed off to whatever was next in our days.

Girlfriends are one of God's best inventions, I think. I know I'm not saying anything new in this, but girls just listen better and understand better than guys, and so I want to say another hurray for girlfriends, and daughters and mothers and sisters… and the times when these are combined.

My dear husband just isn't wired to give and take like a girlfriend would. He tries hard to listen and then he presents his solution and I always take offense to that approach. I know he wants me to be happy and wants to solve whatever it is that I'm trying to share with him that is making me unhappy. But, I just really want to talk, to vent… nothing more than that most days.

Girlfriends empathize better, their body language is better, their silences are better timed, and when they speak it's not about the solution. Often it's about their life and how they handled, or didn't handle, something similar. And so many times there's laughter involved… even if it's allowing me to laugh at myself for being way too serious. For whatever reason, I come away from these conversations feeling better. Nothing has changed in my life circumstances, but I feel like I'm part of a special forces unit that is somehow, together, able to take on the world. Wow, that's pretty amazing to feel like that.

In the words of one of my wise girlfriends, "The sooner we get that our husband isn't our girlfriend, the better off we will be!"

In a way, I think the same potential for healthy emotional living that comes from girlfriend time, also comes from the time I spend with God. I can share EVERYTHING that's going on inside me without any fear at all of being rejected, being fixed, being misunderstood, being the odd girl out. God can take it all from me, and he gets me even more than my husband or my girlfriend or my mother is ever capable of. But, I forget that, and settle for other relationships to make me feel better and even tend to become needy of those people sometimes when I start to feel cut off or lonely. The silly thing is, God is here with me ALL THE TIME… and I ignore him so often.

I'm going to get up from this computer, put on my walking shoes, and take a brisk walk with my dog and with God. I'm sure we'll have a great talk (not out loud or people might think I'm nuts), and when I get back home I know I'll have a new perspective on things. Only it won't be the perspective and feel good kind of thing that I already have after my morning girlfriend coffee, which already has me energized. It will be a fresh understanding that the God of the universe, my friend, has it all under control and that I can just relax in that knowledge for another day.

Peace, out!

Lesley-Anne

a little background…

2009-05-04T12:04:00.000-07:00

I'm thinking it might help to know a little bit of my history at this point… nothing too detailed, but just a general idea of who I am and where I'm at.

About 18 months ago my menstrual cycle stopped. I was 45, and not expecting to be cold turkey into menopause. But, I was. I began to experience all of the symptoms that you have no doubt heard about, or even experienced yourself if you are with me in this phase of life… hot flashes (a tingling feeling in my head followed by blood rushing through my body and face - like being embarrassed all over), night sweats and sleeplessness, weight gain (not a lot but enough to be frustrating), moodiness, lack of focus, lack of desire, irritability (yes, even more than usual!), and I went to my Doctor to investigate what next steps there might be for me as I walked through this change of life. The Doctor said it was just a matter of managing things, and making adjustments as necessary.

OK, I thought, and I did a little bit of research (talked to my Mom and various friends) to find out their insights, what worked, what didn't, and proceeded to make some adjustments to my life, including walking more and eating less, wearing cotton and in layers that I could easily remove when necesary, and lowering the expectations I had for my productivity in lots of areas. The symptoms came and went, and things were going well for the most part, except for the difficulty in focusing on tasks, or completing them in a timely fashion. And, the overall feelings of anxiety and depression were sometimes quite strong.

And, all this 'mental' stuff was and is going on in someone who is supposed to be filled with hope and joy and all the other trappings of being a 'woman of God'. It wasn't the first time I've found that depression and faith are polarized, but here I was again… feeling ashamed, on the outside looking in, embarrassed to share the truth of what I was going through for fear of being 'too much' for those around me. So, I began to withdraw from relationships, and spend more time alone. (YIKES - not the best choice really)

Again I sought 'medical' help, and ended up finding some great nutritional supplements that are still helping me to regain some of my energy and vitality again (Macaroot). Some days are better than others, and there are even stretches of good days where I'm not even aware that there is this new reality for me… I feel like the old me those days. But, most days are different and I'm still trying to figure out what my new reality is.

All this to say that I'm tired of pretending that all is well all the time, that I've got it all together, and that being a Christian is the answer to everything.

I need you to also know that God is my foundation in life -- he really is. I believe that God is close by and understands and provides, but that is not a bandage solution for me. I don't think it's fair to the rest of you for me to say one thing and then experience another. How much worse things would be for me without God in my life is hard to say (probably a lot worse)… but to say that all is well all the time would be a lie.

So, my passion being writing, and my purpose being to let my life be an open book, I decided to write my way through this time of my life… sharing the ups and downs and realities of these days with you. If you catch me preaching, forgive me for that, and if you catch me being a wet blanket, I hope you can forgive that too.

What I simply want to be is real. I'm tired of pretending, hiding, and making excuses for who I am.

This is me. A sometimes suicidal mama. This is me with God. A sometimes suicidal mama with God.

Maybe somehow my life experience will help you?

Lesley-Anne

It's so simple

2009-05-03T15:54:00.000-07:00

The garden in spring has a way of calming. Dirt, water, sunshine and the promise of new green shoots seem to work some miraculous thing in the soul and even out the highs and lows of mood swings for me. It's cathartic in the garden.

So, after arriving home from a thought provoking service at church, I headed outside to do some weeding and watering, and just find a head space that was more about the simplicity of working hard than anything else. So I thought, until the little girl next door stuck her adorable little nose through the fence and said, "Hi, friend". And I had no other choice but drop my tools, take off my gloves, sit down by the fence and talk to her.

"It's my birthday," she said. "I'm 5." "Wow," I said. "That's really getting old." And I sat and she stood at the fence and we talked and talked for quite some time. Then her sister joined us, and my daughter Claire joined us, and all of us kept talking about simple little things like favourite colours, and favourite animals, and birthday presents, and what we did the other night when the power went off and things like that. It was a very sweet time… four girls talking through the fence about simple things.

Don't you get tired sometimes of thinking about not-so-simple things, about the serious nature of life, and decisions, and things to work on and figure out, and what's for dinner and do your kids have clean socks? I do.

Don't you wish that you could laugh more and play more and be light and simple, like a little girl in a purple dress who dances on the fresh mown lawn in the sunshine?

Alone again, (soon please)

2009-05-02T14:04:00.000-07:00

I'm a little odd, I think. I love to be alone with my own thoughts, and whether that happens inside my home or outside on a long walk, I value quiet, peaceful surroundings. Yet, too much of a good thing is… too much, and I find I can get lonely. Then I bounce to the other side of my odd personality where I also like to be surrounded by crowds of people, like at the sidelines of soccer games, or even sitting in the coffee shop alone, but surrounded by people. But again, not all the time.

So, does that make me an introvert or an extrovert? Can a person be both?

I think I'm an introvert, most days. I choose to be alone a lot, and enjoy it most of the time. I find people to be complicated, and being with them brings all sorts of complications like communicating in the right way, having the correct tone of voice, ensuring that my body language is accepting and not rigid, being flexible, being loving, being kind, appearing interested in what they are saying when I'm really not. Why is this so difficult for me, you ask? I don't have a clue, but I clearly recognize that sitting in front of my computer and emailing a 'nice' little note to someone is so much easier that being with them. Not relationally healthy maybe, but easier. And, I guess I'm in for easy some days.

But, having the life I have, and that being full of husband and kids and their friends and their dogs and cats and hamsters, the inevitable interactions happen and thus the need for some kind of communication. And then I'm faced with the most difficult two times of the day… (usually with the kids after school, or the husband after work) when I seem to forget how to open my mouth to speak… or how to think of something interesting to say… or even how to listen well to what is being said. It's like brain freeze, only it's longer lasting!

And then, in the middle of trying to figure out just what my personality needs and how to make it work in a world filled with other people and other personalities, my home and my world is suddenly infiltrated by a certain person who doesn't seem to have a clue about personal boundaries! I stop thinking I'm odd, and begin to think I'm crazy or soon will be if this person doesn't get a clue, or better still, stop talking! Without sharing any relationally damaging details, I'll just say that this person brings out the very worst in me… and there is absolutely no escape… they get up before me in the morning, talk while I'm on the computer, talk while I'm on the phone, talk through my favourite TV show, and talk on into the night as I finally get up off the couch and head to the quiet of my room where I can think and most importantly, breath again.

So, what does that make me? Selfish? Angry? Confused? Well, yeah, all of those, and as much as I'd like to figure out why, I simply have to get through this time of intense interaction with as much grace as it takes to survive and without any relational collateral damage, either to them or me.

Introvert or extrovert, we are all creature of very strange tendencies, preferences and habits.

What a difference a day makes…

2009-05-01T10:52:00.000-07:00

So, it's been an up and down week… and not that one day is up and one day is down, sometimes it's almost an hourly variation. At this point I'm wondering both why it's been this way, and if you can relate? So far today it's been up and the sun has been adding to my feelings of overall well-being, that and some time spent with a good friend over a cup of coffee.

Another friend told me lately that a chemical is released when women are in each others company… something called 'Oxytocin', that actually causes us to feel better in a scientifically proven kind of way. So, with 'O' flowing through me, and sun shining on me, I can say that I'm feeling pretty good as a result!

The other thing that has me up today is being able to recognize how God uses people to do his work. Yesterday someone needed me when I was in an emotional place to give, the day before that the same person drew from their God reserves to lift up my failing spirit. And I see God at work orchestrating it all.

That's it for now… off to walk the dog and enjoy the first real spring day in ages. I know the red-wing blackbirds will be singing in the marsh, and I might just hum along.

See ya!

LA

2009-04-29T22:17:00.000-07:00

So yesterday about this time, I was feeling like my world was caving in along with my chest. Perhaps a little over-stressed, I had a feeling of unexplainable impending doom that was physical, and it was beginning to take over my mind as well as my body.

I stood by the sink after a morning of trying to get some of my menial household chores done, and heard a voice in my head say, "maybe you should just go and check yourself into the hospital", as clear as day. So, I thought about that for a little while, wondering how that experience might pan out for me?

Hi, I'm here to check myself in.

What for?

Well, it's that I just can't seem to pull myself up by the bootstraps, you know. I can't seem to find my stiff upper lip and suck it up princess, if you know what I mean.

I'm sorry Ma'am, I don't know what you mean. What precisely are your symptoms?

I guess you could say that I feel like there's nobody I can talk to about how I feel, and that I feel like I'm too much for everyone that I might have talked to if I could have found someone.

Are you in any pain?

Well, if this pressure on my chest, and the heavy thing that's sitting on my head counts, then yes, I guess I'm in pain. But not a sharp stabbing pain, more like a dull repetitive one.

Are you on any medications?

No, and I don't really want to be, and that's why I'm even afraid to tell anyone how I really feel in case they suggest drugs might be the answer. I guess there's the 'Maccaroot' supplements I'm taking… to balance and energize me… but I don't think that's working.

So, what precisely can we do for you ma'am?

Well, I thought maybe I could just sign in and curl up in an empty bed somewhere until I feel better able to cope, find some energy again, and maybe find a friend that I could talk to. Would that be OK……?

At this point I realize that my idea is lame, and I haven't got a chance of convincing medical staff, nurses or doctors that there's something wrong with me any more than I did two days ago when I tried to explain myself to my husband.

So, I continue to stand by the kitchen sink until the phone rings, goes to the answering machine, and I recognize the voice as someone who might just be able to relate to part of how I'm feeling and I dry my hands on the towel and pick up the phone.

Hi……