Pay Day

My day started out a little rough yesterday. As I drove down my street a bird dropped from a tree above and I killed it with my car. I was heart sick all the way to work. The attendant at the drive through coffee shop tipped the cup as she handed it to me leaking little brown droplets all over the sleeve of my white jacket. And by the time I reached the front door of my office building to realize that I had left my security card in my other bag, I was starting to wonder what lesson I was supposed to be learning...

I'd had enough and decided to turn my day around. Or maybe it turned me around...

A few months back I tossed my name into the hat for the manager's position that had opened up with my boss's retirement. I debated the decision to attempt a return to management; part of me afraid of failure, the other part afraid of not trying. And so after three months and two intense interviews later and a few more weeks of waiting, I learned that I had won the competition. Monday I leave the comfort and safety of my cube and move my mess and disorder down the hallway to the stark and empty office that was my boss's. 

I have no illusions. It's not easy transitioning from peer to leader in a team, but I work with the best (some of them just don't know it). We'll go through it together, as a team.

And the tingles of fear and anticipation remind me that I am alive with much left to learn and more boundaries to challenge. I am also reminded of why it is important to keep dreaming...

What's that saying-- be careful what you wish for?  *smile*

Dreams really do come true.

Winding Down

It was better than expected.
Nature's soothing balm for the soul.
From brittle stark, fresh tender buds of brilliant green emerge, slowly unfurling to face the sun.
A simple reminder that life begins anew; opportunities abound.

Message received. And as this weekend, the first vacation of the season, slowly recoils and winds down, I also wind down, grateful for the rest, ready to face all that awaits. Another week of living fully, and in the moment.

And I whisper a quiet prayer of thanks.

Prelude to Summer

What a difference a week can make. When we were up at the cottage last weekend the landscape was dull and beige with not a hint of green in sight, nothing - with the exception of the evergreen trees. It was as though springtime was in hiding, camouflaged as November.

With the first long weekend upon us, the weather forecast was not promising with very cool temperatures and high probability of rain expected. Hubby and I debated whether we should stay or go north to  the cottage. We both needed a respite from busytown and threw caution to the wind.

To our disbelief the highways, typically jammed on a Friday of the long weekend (or any Friday for that matter), were free and clear. We soared unencumbered to our place of peace.

The first night was a frosty 3 degrees Celsius - and that was inside! We plugged in the heater and stoked the fire and with the help of my wool socks and fleece, I finally got warmed up.

Saturday was a little cloudy and chilly but by late afternoon the sky cleared and it warmed up. Today was spectacular. The lake sparkled like a bedazzled blanket of blue and the sun shone all day high in the cloudless sky. Even the buds on the trees were coaxed out of hiding, and by the end of the day, you couldn't help but notice the greenery showing through. We ate our dinner out on our deck as the blue jays, chickadees and other birds and squirrels serenaded us. The lake was quiet, devoid of the usual cottagers.

Hubby and I took a drive into the nearby village of Magnetawan and gave Fritz a stroll. With the area having a harsh winter of frigid temps and over seven feet of snow, the water levels are high wherever we look. Rivers run freely over the dams crashing into already saturated lakes. Boat houses sit low in the water and trees stand in ponds. I snapped a few shots to share. Hopefully over the next month or two the water levels will reside and the trees can recover.

We are so fortunate to have this retreat, this chance to commune with nature and be inspired by its glory. All in all it was indeed a peaceful weekend and an exciting prelude to the summer ahead.

Weekend to Remember

Yesterday was "opening day" at the cottage. The residuals of an exceptionally long, bitterly cold winter were everywhere: heaps of tree branches and dead leaves on the deck, a few downed birch trees laid out like fallen soldiers, and shades of grey and beige draping the vistas. There wasn't a glimpse of green anywhere to be found... not a bud or hint of leaf.

Hubby dropped the water lines in and did battle with the pump to coax water into the taps and toilet. If that wasn't fun enough, Hubby wrestled with the dock and 300 lb ramp to get us afloat and the canoe nicely secured. The only thing missing to complete the picture were our red Muskoka chairs.

I dodged the cool grey of outside by making up the beds and restoring the coziness of our rustic little cabin. We wrapped up our mission to open our cottage in advance of the upcoming long weekend in short order and then headed home, up the stark laneway and down the highway to the city. Until next weekend...

Today was brilliant! The sun shone high in the blue skies and the girls came home to spend Mother's Day with me. They came wearing wide smiles and bearing baked goods. Nutrition and moderation went out the window as I "sampled".

Some Mother's Days have been better than others... sometimes I get mired in the missing of my own precious mother and I can barely muster a smile. But the past few years have been better. My love for and appreciation of my girls has been larger than my grief. And it feels good.

It's been a weekend to remember, as well as a good reminder of the riches in my life and the good things to come. I hope you all had some sunshine today.

Strangers on a Plane

I didn't know her name. But this older lady with short hair - the gray peeking out from the bottled auburn colour - was sitting in seat 5C - my seat. The flight was packed with not a seat to spare. She moved over into the middle seat, repeating her apology in her sing-song Newfoundland lilt.

I didn't know her name. But this lady in the seat next to me, with her hands folded nervously in her lap was a grandma. Her son and his two kids were sitting ten rows back and they were all headed to Fort McMurray to visit her other son and his family. She doesn't travel much by plane -- just a trip or two to Toronto is all.

I didn't know her name. But I learned that the dusty rose hope-inscribed scarf around her neck was given to her by her daughter ten years ago -- after she passed the five year clear milestone for breast cancer. I learned she only had one breast left and that we shared the same neck scar from our thyroid surgeries.

I didn't know her name. But I know that she misses the husband she lost two years ago. And that she has nine sisters and eight brothers to visit when she gets lonely.

I didn't know her name but I held her hand as the plane landed and bounced to an eventual stop. I helped her find the sleeve to her coat. And I wished her safe travels as we departed.

We met as strangers on a plane. I didn't know her name. But I wish I did.

No Restraint

Fear. It's a restraining order.

You dream big - bigger than you think you ought to.
You visualize it, internalize, put it out there and release it to the universe.

You fill with joy of what is possible and just when you feel it inflating you, lifting your weightlessness into the air, fear creeps in and drops you soundly down to earth.

Fear plants you in your place - if you let it.

We somehow believe that if we curb our enthusiasm and optimism, our disappointment will also be curbed if and when we don't realize our dreams. We think that if we don't dream or expect good things to happen, we will avoid disappointment.

Not true.

Disappointment and heartache - whether shared publicly or felt privately - never feel good, and will be experienced inevitably regardless if you invested your heart and soul.

I just contradicted my personal formula for happiness: that expectation less reality equals disappointment. That is, if you have huge expectations and the reality is that very little of them will be met, it could result in a big disappointment. However I use this formula pertaining more to attitude... you walk around with expectations of others, of circumstances as opposed to simply appreciating the now and what. For example, rather than enjoy the party you throw for your family - the ones who showed up, and the conversation and events that unfold - you size it up to the great expectations you had and lament those who weren't there and the "stuff" that didn't come off as you had intended. The reality doesn't meet the grand expectations you had and therefore delivers disappointment.

But I am not talking about that. I am referring to the vision, dreams and hopes we have for our life. If we attempt to preempt disappointment with restraint and limitation, we cheat ourselves of the hope and positive feelings that are generated - the best parts of the journey.

Of course if we fail to realize any version of our dreams, we could of course, find disappointment. However that wouldn't mitigate all of the good stuff we experience along the way. If you don't allow yourself to dream big, or dream at all, you may never be disappointed but you will have also robbed yourself of good feelings - purpose, joy, anticipation, and just plain old fun.

Shun the restraining order and issue yourself a new edict: Dream with wild abandon and move fearlessly in the direction of your dreams. Revel in the anticipation, planning, visualizing and creating. Enjoy the experience and the breathlessness of wondering "what if". It's worth the ride.

Easter Famjam

As a child, Easter was a special occasion that ranked up there pretty close to Christmas for us. Not only did we get brand new crisp Sunday school hats with ribbon streamers, we got instant access to more chocolate and candy than we could comprehend. Free flowing candy was a rarity in our house and so we cherished the opportunity to gobble sugared Easter eggs and gnaw on solid chocolate bunnies. I would methodically break off ears and appendages and savour each piece of delicious, and try to make it last as long as possible. 

These days Easter is about family and less about chocolate -- although there was plenty of that too. To see the whole clan (missing one little soul) gathered in our home, engaged in conversation with one another, enjoying the energy and joy that is family, is the greatest, most satisfying experience I know. It fills my heart to overflowing and it astounds me - the goodness that has resulted from the love of two people. 

This Easter we had much to celebrate. Kidlet is graduating with her degree, my other daughter got accepted to teachers' college, my sister is just weeks away from earning her masters in leadership and her daughter chose our family event to announce her engagement! Loads of excitement ramped up the excitement level.

We are a family of communicators so you can only imagine how the walls reverberate with the sound of twenty plus of us all "communicating" simultaneously. We don't wait for others to finish their sentence -- we simply complete it for them and then continue on with barely a breath between. Doris, our 96 year old grand lady switched her hearing aides off. I swear my ears were still ringing the next day. 

Easter Sunday is always a  more peaceful at hubby's parents' house. The family is smaller and they are much less verbose. The highlight of any family occasion these days is our little niece. She has injected new life and excitement into the mix and is really the only one who can coax a special brand of happy from her Opa. 

And so, after much preparation and planning, another special family occasion has come and gone. The house is quiet; the dog is passed out on the couch but the springtime bouquets are in full bloom. There is the promise of possibility in the air. Springtime is like that... it delivers a fresh palette for us, and it is ours to create the life we so desire. 

And for that, and so much more, I am truly grateful. 

Almost the whole gang -- missing one!

Our beautiful grand lady Doris

Niece brings the magic to any occasion

Niece having an Easter photo shoot