Pandemic Musings

Accept yourself

I moved to New Liskeard in 1981. It was the end of grade 2 for me and we left North Bay at the beginning of June. I didn’t get to say bye to my friends but that was okay because we were moving to somewhere better. Dad had a new job and it was going to be great, or so we were told. (PS It wasn’t. His boss stole from the company and filed for bankruptcy leaving my dad jobless very quickly.)

We stayed at a cottage for the summer until we could move into our house out in the bush. Beautiful solitude, they said. (Just bugs and transports.)

I didn’t make any friends over the summer months but that was just because there were very few people. Of course, I would when school started. (Ha)

It did. I didn’t.

Up to that point, my life had been pretty uncomplicated. My North Bay friends accepted me for me and I had quite a few of them. I had minor disagreements with one or two of them but it always quickly led to forgiveness and moving on in gameplay.

New Liskeard wasn’t like that. It was a clique-y town with a lot of behavioural rules and judgement thrown around like frisbees. I didn’t make friends right away, Neither did my siblings. I had to change a lot of who I was to fit in with a small group. They’re the only ones who would have me but there was a price. A price I later discovered to be too much.

By grade 7, I no longer recognised myself and I was so frustrated that despite all my behaviour modifications I was still not fitting in or being accepted by the masses. I began to retaliate and get angry. I was an angry teen and it was THEIR fault, or was it? Maybe it was my fault for actually trying to fit in…for wanting to be like them! I should have just accepted who I was to begin with. I wish someone would have told me that.

I struggled a lot with modifying myself to suit other’s needs throughout adulthood. Everyone has an opinion on what you should be saying or doing, how you should be living your life and what you should be accepting from the people around you. People are constantly telling you how to improve your life to their standards and as difficult as it is to fight the childish urge to modify, rectify or belong, it would be harder for me to change my inner being for someone else. They’re not who has to live in this body, mind and soul. I am. Their opinion truly doesn’t matter.

Does that lead to a life of loneliness? Sometimes. But it’s a life where I am me, not who they want me to be.

The last two years through this pandemic have taught me to stay strong and stay MY course as I’ve watched many of my friends and family members hop onto these bandwagons of division and superiority. Any side that leads with hate, division and superiority is not the side for me. Thankfully most of my friends are not on either extreme.

All I know is that I lead each day with love, compassion and understanding for EVERYONE…not just the people who chose to agree.

Faith…

The first five days of being free from school and homework have been taxing. On one hand, I need to provide for my child but on the other, I know I’m doing my best on the path I have chosen.

I have so much to do to remain on that path but nothing is certain. No guarantees. I spent a few mornings looking for jobs. Regular jobs. Office jobs. Jobs that would surely pay the bills but would slowly kill my dreams. I’ve kept those dreams at bay for so long, and now that they’ve been released and I’ve tasted the life I’ve always longed for, I can’t settle.

Maybe it’s something that also comes with age. The desire to live a life with purpose. To only do those things that make my soul scream “YES, YES, YES!”  My sole purpose for the last 27 years was to care for my children. It was the only calling I responded to whole-heartedly.

As much as I would love the stability of a 9 to 5 job and as alluring as that fork in the road is, I know my chosen path is clear though it may have steeper hills. It’s the path I need to stay on.

I have faith in that little voice that’s cheering me on, “Keep going. You’re almost there!”

~C

 

J’ai fini!

It’s the day I’ve anticipated since last summer when I decided on a whim to apply for college. What a whirlwind it has been since. With my four-year-old in tow, we uprooted from Northern Ontario to Ottawa. Within two weeks, I found a school for him, an apartment for us and daycare. I lost a car, bought a car, survived a college strike, made friends, lost friends, and wrote like mad every single day since sending in my application.

I’ve submitted all of my work and am strumming my fingers on the table, waiting for all my final grades but in essence, it is over. The training aspect of my future is complete. Well, most of it.

I enjoyed feeding my brain and having intellectual stimulation  dailyso much that it’s not something I can part with. I’m signing up for workshops and additional training, still within the scope of my studies. I have Script Supervision I am expanding on and video production.

Today, I debate… Am I ready for the world or do I want to learn more?

I have a child to consider. He has extreme allergies and respiratory problems stemming from where we live. We need to leave this place but where to? Ottawa, North Bay, West Coast? As with any situation in my life, past, present or future, I open every single door available to me and just when it seems like I’m ready to make a decision, the universe will guide me and my gut will speak up!

For some reason, I’m not very concerned. I’ve learned this past year that God (whoever that may be) is definitely on my side. I have faith that the pieces will come together as they were meant to. Finally.

Cheers,

~C

P.S. I Wasn’t Expecting You! is a one-act play I wrote. It was read by my classmates on our last day of Writing for Actors. The play was received very well. They laughed every single time they were supposed to laugh.  The teacher suggested I submit it to a competition. It’s on my agenda.

Emotions in A Pen.

Welcome to Emotions in a Pen.

I’m a firm believer in this, though I know many writers have long done away with the pen. It’s so much easier to write on your laptop nowadays. I enjoy the act of writing, however. I have my go-to pens but sometimes they just don’t feel right in my hand. I like going through my jar of pens and testing them all out. Yesterday, I used a pen I haven’t used in months. It just fit nicely in my hand. There was a delicateness about it I welcomed. Usually, I lean more towards a more robust pen, one with some weight and thickness in its impression.

In either case, when I need to write emotions, I usually grab a pen. The movement, the flow, the act of writing connects me to my emotions and they spill on the page with ease. I find if I write something that should be emotional directly on my laptop,  much of the feeling is lost. It may be a little more time-consuming but the reward is tenfold by sitting down with pen and paper before moving onto the laptop.

The emotion is in the pen, the logic is in the laptop.

-C-