like pebbles on the beach

 I was reminded yesterday of one of my father's proverbs. One of my grandfather's, I suppose. 

If the only tool you have is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. 

My dad is a big believer in the right tool for the right job, and this has manifested in all kinds of ways. 

If he is coming to help with repairs, he'll bring his own toolbox. 
The first year I lived away from home, I received a stocked toolbox for Christmas. 
Sometimes the back of his pickup is better stocked than your neighbourhood hardware store. 

But for all this is practical advice that has stood me well in a long list of apartments and houses - as metaphorical advice it is even better. 

Am I stuck because I keep using a 'hammer', because I'm used to it and it's close at hand and comfortable?

Have I stopped to consider what kind of a challenge I'm facing?

Does my toolbox of skills and coping strategies need some organizing? Updating? Do I even know where it is?

I've added my own extension to the metaphor, when a friend was unpacking the less than healthy ways she had coped with a toxic relationship. 

Sometimes we go through the toolbox, trying everything. And maybe our new shiny tools don't work: we try and set boundaries, be adaptable, ask for what we need, be financial independent... and still the situation doesn't improve. 

So we start rooting around in the back of the bottom drawers. And maybe back there are some tools (coping strategies) we haven't had to use in a while: self medication, reckless sex, shopping.  

Maybe a hammer. 

Maybe it isn't the best tool, but maybe it pries open, busts up the situation enough that we can get out. 

May we all be gentle and compassionate with ourselves for using the tools that were in reach for 2018. 

And may our toolboxes be well stocked for 2019. 

 

The temperature is dropping tonight on the prairies and going back to a more seasonal -20 C overnight. So I'm glad to be nested home tonight in my cozy apartment, with a chicken in the oven and my eldest child on the couch. 

One of the big adjustments for me over that last year has been living on my own. I've never done this before! 

I went from my family home to housemates to kids to husband and kids and back to just kids. 

I like the quiet of living by myself, although I have to watch that solitude doesn't become entirely solitary. It's harder, I think, in a new city - because I don't have my own network of friends or activities here.  

So it's extra nice to have my girl with me over Christmas. We've done a bit of shopping, stocked up on groceries and got our short list of movies (The Favourite), TV (Letterkenny) and youtube (Bon Appetit: Claire makes gourmet junk food). 

Today we looked through boxes of old photos - it's astonishing to see faded photos through her eyes - I see the misery of grade school, or the ordinariness of growing up in the 70s - she sees something else entirely. 

Someone asked me this week if I would describe myself as a good mother. I replied that I would say I tried my hardest, and sometimes failed. But my kids have said I was (am) a good mother, and it's their judgement that counts. 

And I guess the proof is on my couch: the 26 year old who flew here to spend the holiday with her mom. Just the two of us. 

 Psalm 128, a summer paraphrase


Joyful is the one who turns to God,
    and who walks on the path laid out by God.
Your cupboards shall be full, your gardens abundant
    you will eat well, and have enough to share.
You will be joyous
    and it will be well with you, and those you love.

Your partner will be like a fruitful vine, you will share a home,
    and entwine your lives like morning glories climbing a garden fence.
The young ones in your circle will be like lilac shoots
    growing up and bringing new life
Thus shall the person be blessed
    who turns to God.

May God bless you,
     wherever you are!
May you see prosperity in the city
    all the days of your life!
May you see generations of children
    living in peace!

Actually, you know what I think would be superfun as a halloween costume? 

A roller derby girl! Knee pads, fishnets and a pair of roller skates. Hells yes.



 

But maybe we don't want to be tragic French burlesque dancers with consumption.

Maybe something a little more steampunk? Or western?


 

So, the new man in my life hadn't seen The Losers, and I fixed that tonight. He liked it, so another check in the plus column for him.

And God, I love that movie - I have no idea how many times i've seen it, and it still is so damn charming. And I might need to go re-read a favorite fic or two.


But! Also we were lazy and watched the previews on the dvd. And I always forget that it includes a preview for Inception. And the fog horn starts and I get all these feelings omg and then the preview keeps going on and on with stupid  Cobb talking ad nauseum to Ariadne or whoever and Mal being tragic and Cobb still talking, and I think "I always manage to forget how much of that movie is about the boring tragic doomed romance". 

And then there is one perfect moment. "Dream a little bigger darling". And all is forgiven. 

 Filled in this morning for a friend of mine.

Text: Isaiah 58:9b-13

( sermon )

Well. We're not actually packing at the moment. Teenager Boy is buried in a Sandman comic, and I was finishing off a Teen Wolf AU. (They solve crimes! And are werewolves!)

We've had a great vacation. I'm not sure I can express how novel this whole week has been - I have literally never gone on vacation like this before. My parents gave me one of their time-share weeks; and we've been puttering around the (off season) resort town doing not much of anything. It's been a glorious and much needed break.

FIVE THINGS I'VE LOVED (in no particular order)

• spending time with family  - contrary to the original Time To Myself plan; both kids came with me, my daughter's boyfriend flew in for New Year's, and my parents came down and stayed in their trailer. We cooked and ate supper and went to the aquarium and it was terrific. Especially the time with my girl - she travels so much now, I rarely see her.
• heated outdoor pools - I went swimming almost every day, and the pool was right beside the ocean, with a bubbling jet spa too. The weather's been really cool while we've been here, and the warm pools just feel like the height of luxury. And it felt great to swim lengths again - something I'll look into doing when we get home.
• unstructured time - the last few months have been crazy hectic with buying/selling houses, moving, getting ready to switch jobs - I'm so grateful for this restorative time
• the beach - our condo faces down the shoreline, and I walked way down to the next pier one afternoon. The tides go in and out, and I've seen dolphins and sandpipers and have a few tiny shells to take home with me.
• the aquarium - sharks, rays, catfish, an octopus - we had an amazing afternoon looking at everything

Tomorrow morning we pack up and head home - 2 full days of driving, with an overnight in a motel somewhere along the way. Back to the snow; to my last 3 weeks with my churches, to pick up the dog and start on the new routines in the new places in the new year. The intention I'm bringing home with me is to be more intentional - to be mindful of what needs doing right now; setting intentions for the day or the moment, and letting go, as possible, of lingering anxiety. 

And in that spirit - having done what needed doing 20 minutes ago (starting this post); I'll move onto what needs doing in this moment (starting to pack). Blessings to you, and send safe travel thoughts and prayers our way. 

Taking a few moments for myself before launching into the day's tasks. Yesterday I cleaned and decluttered all the way to the back of my closet, and the hall closet. The teenager started on his room, so that while it's still a disaster, at least the floor has some space to walk on without stepping on clothing or God knows what. Hilariously - he found my testamur certificate in that room - no idea how it got there. (Like a graduation certificate - it's the piece of paper that says, yes I really am a minister). It's a little bit crinkled, but rescued. He almost threw out the envelope without looking - thank goodness he didn't.

Other found treasures? Some loonies and toonies on the floor of my closet. The poem I posted yesterday, scrawled on a piece of paper in the sunroom.

Mostly, though - I find space. I find things that I can let go of, stuff that should have been thrown away, given away, released some years ago. I find my courage to let go, to open my hands. I find my faith that if I throw away the threadbare towels, and I find I need new towels, I will have the resources to acquire new ones. I find that time has passed - that my bookshelves are still packed with kids books that my kids have outgrown. I find acceptance of who I am now - and keep the yoga mat, knitting needles and aquariums; start looking for new homes for the piano and sailboat.  

On Saturday afternoon, I promised myself that if I got a reasonable amount crossed off the chore list, I could drive into the city and watch Lawless. I think I had forgotten how much I like Prohibition era gangster movies. I definitely forgot that Tom Hardy could actually carve out a piece of my soul and build a home there.

( SPOILERS )( SPOILERS )