Tag Archives: Simplicity

Sometimes Self Care is Hiding the Last Bagel

I woke up this morning at 5:15 am. Some of you may be thinking “if this post is about self-care this is not a good start”.  

But as a morning person, this actually is one of the best things I do for myself. And it’s nothing I really “do” it’s more who I am – how my internal clock is just built into me.

I’m usually always awake by 5:30 am. In good weather I come downstairs and cuddle up in my Papasan Chair on the deck and read or take photos. It’s alone time. 

But don’t get “alone time” confused with self care. It’s true there is sometimes about half an hour of self care in there – but the rest is this: my mind running non stop with the list of to dos and schedules for the day for all the people in my life (of which I am last on the list).

Today I had a busy day ahead of me – like most of us do ofcourse. It’s June – and in my house that bookends September with a ferociousness that spans the kids, their school, their activities, my work, Craig’s work, and nearly each and every aspect of our life. Time is a precious commodity at the best of times – but it’s a different beast in June and September.

It just is.

So the notion of self care kind of makes me laugh. Like out-loud laugh.

Especially the way our society “sells” the notion of self care. Our culture screams at us from every magazine cover and talk show and best selling book that self care is of utmost importance. But at the same time it is also saying “and THIS is what self care must look like”:

It’s adventures to find yourself – to places none of us can afford (unless you are the author of the book these adventures are written about and just sold 1 million copies).

It’s massages and pedicures and mountain top retreats. 

It’s going to the funky little shop where you can “be seen” buying the “right” candles or oils which are over priced because they are the flavour of the month.

It’s running half marathons and making leisurely suppers from the organic vegetable you have tended to in your own vegetable garden that you take time to weed daily as you practice the simplicity of life.

And finally it’s taking the perfect picture of the perfect simplistic day with our lululemon yoga pants on while drinking our Starbucks Coffee. 

(Please follow the instructions above in order to meet the expectations our culture has around self care.)

Isn’t there enough expectations out there in the world we are bombarded with every day?

Ugh.

Ok ok. I get it.

Taking care of yourself is good.

I believe in it. 

But my self care doesn’t come close to these visions that are planted in our society.

My self care mostly looks mostly like this:

Phone a friend at 7:30 am – the worst possible time when both sets of our kids are getting ready for school and we are getting ready for work. But need to connect if only for a few minutes. Talk about “nothing really” but “everything real” … time allotted – 4 minutes.

At lunch grab a friend or go for a walk on my own. No jogging, no taking pics and posting them. Just walking. Pretty much the same place every time. 20 minutes. Race back to work.

In the mornings give my husband a peck on the cheek before we leave for work – try to spend the rest of the day trying to remember which Province he is working in that day, and if he can help out with “kid pick ups” later that evening.

And then there are times when my self care takes a deceitful but hilarious turn like this morning. This morning as I got up, came downstairs to the quiet kitchen and saw that there was only one bagel left – in a household of 4 people.

It was 5:30 am. I wasn’t hungry for the bagel yet. Everyone was asleep. But I knew in two hours I would be. And I also knew that by then that round beautiful bagel would be gobbled up by someone in my loving little family.

So this morning my self care looked something like this: I went over to my kitchen Island, I picked up that last bagel, and I deftly hid it from my children and husband so I could defiantly enjoy having it later in the day. 

Yup. I hid the bagel. What am I? Four years old?

But really, that’s it. Self care a la Karrie-Ann. Not fancy. Not trendy. Not expensive. Sometimes deceitful. 

Whatever works I say!

I guess my point is this: Don’t get caught up in what you think self care is supposed to look like. 

Find the moments. Even if they are fleeting and imperfect and nothing you would ever take a photograph of. Even if they are things you may be embarrassed about! 

Self care isn’t about what others are doing. We do enough comparing don’t we?

It’s about what you are doing – in a way that works for you – when you can do it. 

And yes – maybe sometimes it is the perfect mornings on my verandah taking sunrise photos that I post on Facebook as I get ready to read that self help book I’ve been waiting to dive into.

That’s not wrong. I did that just a few weeks ago.

But it’s also really important to acknowledge that sometimes … sometimes … it’s simply hiding the last bagel. 

And that’s ok too.

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A Boy in a Cape

My friends husband posted on Facebook this morning “New Years Resolutions. What are yours?”

I don’t make New Years Resolutions. I don’t really remember if I ever have. Maybe I did once upon a time. Either way I know it’s been a long time since I have.

I do however have a ritual of writing something down each year of what I want to come true. It’s nothing within my control, but I still physically write it down every year. I have a pretty strong belief that the universe listens more intently if you are in fact purposeful AND active. And for me there is no way to be more purposeful and active than putting pen to paper. Yes. Actual pen. No typing this one. So I physically pick up a pen. Blue ink of course. And I write the same sentence every year in the same Family Journal. It’s not pretty or artful or eloquent. It’s just one sentence, randomly placed on any page. But it happens in January of each year.

So no. I do not make yearly resolutions. I guess you would say I make a wish.

But his question DID get me thinking. What have I wanted to be more purposeful about this year? For me that’s always been the question in life.

One of the things I have been thinking a long time about is how important it is to put our intent into action.

Too long I have had the following sentence rattling around my brain. “I Wonder if You Know?”

Each year, each season, each month, and I hazard to guess each day, we encounter people who make a difference in our lives. Sometimes it’s a really big life changing difference. More often than not its a small, seemingly inconsequential, difference. But even if it’s the latter, it’s those small differences that build us up. Build our confidence. Build our character. Help us become the people we were meant to be in the world.

But here is the thing.

I don’t think we always do a very good job at telling those people the difference they make. Sometimes it’s because we are busy and don’t take the time. Sometimes it because it seemed so small at the time, and then later on it seems too late. Whatever the reason, I want to be better at it. Because from the moment I started whispering thank you those many years ago, I learned that you need to give gratitude a voice. It doesn’t have to be loud or pompous or all encompassing. But it needs to have a voice. Even if it’s just a whisper.

So this year, 2016, I want to start being better at telling people in my world the difference they have made, or are making, in my life. I don’t like to set myself up, so I won’t commit to a certain number of posts a week or a month or even the year. But if you want to read a few feel-good-true stories, I’m going to create a category here in Whispering Thank You called “I Wonder if You Know?”

My first post is about something that happened a little over six years ago. But I didn’t realize what an impact it had on my son until about six months ago. It’s not an earth shattering story. It’s not extremely long. But it mattered to one of the most important people in my life, and I’ve been ‘meaning to’ share it … because I wonder if Meaghan H. knows what a difference she made?

I wonder if she knows that six years ago she had a pretty big impact on my son Mark’s life? I bet she doesn’t. Because until last March I had no idea she did either.

At the end of Marks three year chemotherapy regime we held a Celebration for him. A party to celebrate the end of a long arduous time.

We invited only our closest family and friends. That of course consisted of my Fab Five Girlfriends from NB and their kiddos. We moved to NS just before Mark was diagnosed, so even though four years had gone by between the move and the celebration, these were still some of the people in our life we depended on the most – regardless of what Province they lived in.

I insisted that no gifts were to be brought to the celebration, and my friends and family knew well enough not to mess with that request, and they respected it whole heartedly. They did however bring cards, some purchased and some home made. And one of my friends daughters, Meaghan, brought a drawing with her. It was a portrayal of Mark in a cape. The title of it was “Super Mark”.

It was done in colour pencil and had inspiring words like “Way to go Mark” at the bottom in bubbles. It was very well done I thought for a girl the age of twelve (which I believe is what age she would have been at the time). Very well done. But at the same time, and boy I hope she takes this the right way, she wasn’t going to be giving Picasso a run for his money. Haha! Maybe she is now at the age of 18, but at 12 it was very simply a wonderful gesture and I remember thinking about how much time she must of taken, thinking about Mark as she completed it … and how much that meant to me … even if Mark at age six wouldn’t necessarily make that correlation of time and effort put into such a drawing. It meant even more because of the age difference between them and the fact that although they had certainly been in each other’s lives the past six years, but they were not particularly close per se.

She had put the drawing in a frame. I don’t remember there being any grand gesture of giving it to him. She did not need to be the centre of any attention. It was, very simply, a generous act of love. Something she felt she could do for a young boy to make him feel strong and brave.

There were many moments during the course of that day that would touch my son. Some of them big. (He loved animals and we had the local Zoo give him the opportunity to name a baby animal). Some of them encompassing (we collected fun band aids for kids in the hospitals and we counted them all that day). Some of them small. (We all went on the water slide at the hotel afterward … he talked about that forever.). Meaghan’s beautiful gesture seemed like “just” one of many wonderful gestures that happened that day, mixed in among an emotional day, it seemed to be, within perspective, very simply, one of many.

It wasn’t.

Fast forward six years.

Mark is on the verge of becoming a teenager. 12 years old, nearing 13, and he wants his room re-done to reflect the growing, young, active, vibrant sports orientated/animal loving kid he is.

His room is well overdue for a reno. And so we go at it. New paint. New furniture. New curtains. As I take down spiderman and toddler items I am throughly embarrassed at how long it has taken us to take on this project.

Everything comes off the walls and off the bookshelves. We make four piles. (1) Garbage. (2) Give Away. (3) Put Away in the Attic’ as a Treasure. (4) Put Back Up in his Room.

As I take everything down I make him put it in one of the four piles. There are things here I don’t even remember seeing before. Where did he GET all this STUFF? We grab old books and trinkets and photos and he makes quick and sure decisions. He is already much better at this purging thing than his mother is!

I reach up on the bookshelf, the second shelf from the bottom, the one that is best at his eye view at his height, and I grab a framed drawing.

It’s a boy in a cape.

I pause for a moment and think of Meaghan and that day. She is 18 now. That was six years ago. Where does the time go?

I hand it to Mark hoping he chooses by himself to put it in the “Attic Treasure” pile and not the “Garbage” pile. He is, after all, a twelve year old boy, and as I hand it to him I wonder if he even really remembers where it came from or if it just became “something that never came down” from a time long ago.

I think to myself “if he does put it in the garbage pile I will salvage it to the attic and tell him all about it when he is older.”

But as I hand it to him my hope of him putting it in the Treasure pile is not realized. It’s his choice. Not mine. And the thing is, that’s ok.

It’s actually more than ok.

Because you know what that kid did? He looked at the drawing and without blinking or pausing said “that goes back in the same spot Mom. Right where it was.” And he handed it back to me.

And so I put it back on the shelf. “Right where it was”.

And that was that.

I look at that drawing through new eyes now. I look at it through Marks eyes. I look at it as he has ALWAYS looked at it but how I never KNEW he looked at it. As something that made him feel strong and brave and courageous. As something that mattered deeply to him. And as something that so obviously STILL matters deeply to him.

I look at it on his shelf. In his room. Still to this day. Put there with conscious decision on his part.

And I think of that young girl, who is now a woman, who drew that for him. And I wonder if she knows what an impact she had on his life, as my boy laid there in bed every night, seeing that drawing, and thinking that someone in the world, other than his family (who is of course is ‘supposed’ to tell him he is amazing) thought he was brave and courageous and a super hero for the battle he fought.

I wonder if she did know what a difference she made?

So often we don’t.

But I’m glad she does now.

Thank you Meaghan H. You kind of rock.

Seaglass and Sandollars … Finding Our “Family Signature”

For as long as I can remember I have been conscious of the fact that creating a great family was not something that just happens.

I think most things in life fall on a spectrum – often dependent upon how much priority, time, effort and perseverance we put into them. We all have a ranging ability to create something great along that spectrum and I think family is no different.

It’s nice and easy to “sit back” and think that “love is enough” and is “what really matters”. Well … for me … as I’ve said before, it’s not enough. Particularly not the “sitting back” part. You see, love is a verb. And verbs require action.

The thing about actions and verbs are this – they don’t always have to be with a Capital A or V. Now I’ll be the first to admit that often times they are in my life. I’m guilty of being a “Go Big or Go Home” kind of girl … but truth be told it’s not the “big” that matters most in that sentence … it’s the “go”.

And it’s funny how we “go” about an activity on a regular basis, never really giving it much conscious thought, until one day, after literally years and years (in my case more than a decade) you sit back and you realize that you have cultivated a number of activities – of traditions – of events – that have shaped who your family is, how you interact together, and what sense of pride you have in each other as a whole.

Approximately a dozen years ago my family began, what I call, engaging in our Family Signature. I know that sounds like some dorky made up thing … and well … since I just made it up, and I AM kind of a dork, I guess that would be a fair assessment. But I don’t think it makes it any less true.

A Family Signature is I believe something that identifies you as a “whole”, and gives your family a sense of pride in being together. It is identifying in the same way a signature is, but you are identifying your entire family rather than one person.
Finding your Family’s Signature is not a difficult thing to do. Looking back I realized ours was there for years and years before I even consciously identified it as such.

For 13 years now we have gained such joy in doing something very simple – beachcombing for Seaglass and Sandollars. It is something we have done on a regular basis for literally as long as my children have been alive. We have photos of them growing up doing these activities; and our time together can be measured over the years by both of these things – little feet in the sand, growing bigger and bigger until their imprints are nearly as large as mine; years of searching for the elusive colors, the thickest piece, the perfect curve. I can mark our time together by little hands reaching down for that sand dollar – when they were so little that we used to “plant” them for them – until they got so big they became better at finding them than we are.

These activities are certainly not uniquely ours, but they are the two things that have followed us through the years – the things we have been very purposeful about making happen every single year since they were born, and I believe every year to come.
For those of you who may be still searching for a Family Signature here are a few tips and tricks to help find yours. Family Signatures often:

(1) Are A Purposeful Activity

– I don’t mean purposeful in the way of “Hey kids, we are going off to do our Family Signature activity now … get your shoes on …”. Please. My family have no idea I think of it in this way and would have no idea I coined this phrase. What they know is this: for as long as they have memory, we have been searching for Sandollars and Seaglass. They identify with it as something “we do as a family”. We do it purposefully, and it doesn’t “just happen”. We “make” it happen. They see us value it and we see them value it. Together. Consciously.

(2) Requires Little Skill; or the Skill Level of each Family Member is Equal
– Our family has a number of things we enjoy doing together … but I think the thing that makes a Family Signature different is that everyone enjoys it, and in turn has the ability to do it, equally. For instance, biking has always been a favourite family activity of ours. But my son both enjoys it much more than my daughter does, and is also more skilled at it physically than she is. We certainly don’t drag her along per se, but we all enjoy beachcombing for Seaglass and Sandollars with the same fervour and skill equally (provided I have my prescription contacts in)

(3) Allow for Anticipation and Joy
– You can never underestimate the importance of anticipation. It helps to lengthen the joy brought to the activity and therefore allows that activity to become much more than the time spent actually doing it. It becomes about the conversation and anticipation before it even happens. “I wonder what we will find at this beach? Will someone find a ring top again? Who will find the first piece? Who will find the smallest sandollar? Will there be as many as last time?” When we all know we are going beachcombing we are all waiting with baited breath to find the next treasure and love talking about it with each other.

(4) You Participate All Together & Support Each Other
– Looking for Seaglass and Sandollars is something we never do individually. We always … and I mean always … do it as a family. Some of my favourite moments together have been on those beaches when someone finds something unique and we are all genuinely excited for them. When we find a new piece we are excited to share it with each other – a new color or shape – a unique size or texture – and we rush over to show everyone.

(5) Encourages conversation
– One of the reasons I love this so much is that we are able to talk. We are walking together – and although we may not always be right next to each other there is nothing that impedes a natural conversation that happens between us. No electronic devices, no noise, no friends, no commercialism. Just us and the ocean. Our family of four. And nothing to do but walk and talk and seek.

(6) Does Not Cost Anything, or Very Little
– If I were to take a vote many people would say that our Family’s Signature would be travelling – and a big part of that is true. But I’m very conscious that travelling – even locally – is dependent upon monetary circumstances. I want our family signature to be something we can do no matter what our circumstances may be in the future, or have been in the past. Regardless if we lose our jobs or life throws us a curve ball. I never want to say “we can’t”.

(7) Is Timeless
– Our family is going to change and grow – be it physically, emotionally or literally. What if we move? What if, what if, what if? Your family’s signature should be able to change with you.

(8) Have a sense of Simple-ness and at the same time Special-ness
– It’s the “doing”, not the “size” of the doing. And it shouldn’t be something we do everyday – otherwise it becomes routine and loses that sense of being special and unique. I know our family is not the only family to go hunting for Seaglass and Sandollars. We love talking to others on the beaches who are doing the same thing that we meet over the years and sharing our finds. At the same time when my kiddos go to other peoples homes it’s not something they see around “everywhere” they go, and it’s not something “everyone” has been doing since they were born. We feel a sense of specialness about it, and I think that’s important.

(9) Offers Something Tangible
– I don’t think this is necessary. Come on … let’s be real … none of this is necessary. It’s all me talking! But I will admit I love that our family has Seaglass or Sandollars in seven different rooms in our home. I love that we all look at them throughout the year and are reminded of the times we spent together, the years we spent together. I love that we pick up pieces and say “remember when”. I love that we are taking the time to display them differently and I love that we take special care not to break them and treat them as if they matter. I think even pictures can provide this – taking photos of your family’s signature and framing them around the house. Anything that can provide a sense of memory and pride about what your family chooses to do together – just you. Which leads me to my last tip.

(10) Are Selfish
– Although we have certainly been with others beachcombing – friends and family – most of the time we are in a position that we are just the four of us. We rarely call up a friend and say “let’s go hunting for seaglass” … it is something we hold special just for us.
– Secondly, although I self identify camping or playing cards & board games as a Family Signature for us as well, the fact is that we are so very often camping or playing games “with others” – with hoards of family or friends – not just the four of us. This has gotten more so as the years have gone on. And in order for me to feel that sense of pride and that sense of belonging, I need it to be something where the four of us … and just the four of us … carve out special time together – with no other influences. Where we can engage each other in a meaningful way. Our world is so full of other people … this … this time … needs to be just us.

I can think of many families that have their own Family Signature but may not recognize it as such. I see families who travel around to all the fireworks shows in the area (I LOVE this!), families who hike to waterfalls together, families who take in local sports games together, who go fishing together in their boat and who go to their cottage together. Families who collect rocks together, or who create all kinds of art together, or who run together. I know one family who chooses a different charity each year and “give back” together throughout the year with different activities they organize.

These families may not all identify these things as their Family Signature, but I would be willing to bet if asked, they are activities that their families take pride in and are purposeful about. They are activities that have grown with their families over the years, and are activities that they “make” happen.

And I know so many of you are sitting reading this going “Karrie-Ann. For crying out loud. I barely have time to brush my own hair in the morning let alone give any thought to something called a Family Signature. Enough already.”

And I get it. I get that feeling. I live that feeling so many days. But when you break it down, this post isn’t about its title, or its tips and tricks. It’s about being conscious about making time for your family – real time. And doing so in an active way with something your family can take pride in doing together – just the core of you. It’s about not allowing ourselves to get 100% caught up in running around in different directions with sports and activities or social media or all of the other people in your world. It’s about taking a little bit of time to be purposeful with the people who matter most in your life.

So I’ll leave you with this.

What is your Family Signature? What has followed your family over the years? What can mark your family’s time together? Do you have one? I’m willing to bet you do.

And if you don’t … it’s never too late to find … no scratch that … to “make” … one happen.

There are Flies in My House Today

I am sitting inside as I type this. Which for this time of year for me is rare. On my front verandah this Spring I put out my old Papas an Chair – in which I snuggle up with my laptop and look out over my view breathing in the outdoor air which I love so much. (I am NOT an indoor air person).

But today I am inside. The laughter from the pool is not allowing me to concentrate and my vacation brain is not flowing as seamlessly as I would like it to.

So yes. I find myself strangely inside with the screen door open enough to hear if one of the three 13 year old girls giggling in my pool suddenly requires me to race down the stairs and give her CPR because she can’t stand up in the four feet of water that is my above ground pool. Sigh. What a mother.

But I digress.

As I have been sitting here for at least an hour – inside –as we have well established – I have spent the last 20 minutes of that hour annoyingly brushing away seemingly dozens of houseflies from the mere 4 square feet of space I am taking up in my living room.

I am senselessly trying to beat them into submission – or death – either one will do – with a Straw Corona Beer Cowboy Hat that was sitting within arm’s length of me … because I will not give them the satisfaction of getting up off my ass and having them interrupt my work.

Yes. I know. I’m a little touched. It’s widely accepted among my circle.

So I am sitting here like a fool allowing a dozen little winged creatures – that don’t even bite – drive me insane. And just when I’m about to throw my laptop at them thinking surely the sheer size and weight of it will kill at least one of them, I remember …

There are flies in my house today.

There are flies in my house today … because last night we had friends and families over all afternoon … all afternoon which turned into evening … which turned into night ….

There are flies in my house today … because there were eight kiddos and six adults running in and out and in and out and then back in and out of my house again … eating and laughing and talking and sharing and actively being present in each other’s lives.

There are flies in my house … because today three crazy, amazing, giggling, growing teenage girls are outside swimming in the pool and have been out and in all day for snacks and bathroom and my most favourite of all yelling for me to come take pictures of them.

There are flies in my house today …. because memories were… and are … being created.

And suddenly – just like that … the flies don’t seem quite as annoying as they were 10 minutes ago.

And no. This wasn’t the post I was planning on making today … but … there are flies in my house.

Life is good.