Running.
My new thing.
Well, sort of. I kind of feel like a fraud saying I'm a runner.
I mean, I wear real underwear that bunches up (and don't care who knows it), I don't have any special running gear like a 'breathable jacket', an armband for my ipod (yet), or the 'I'm so cool, this is so freakin' easy, I don't even sweat' look while I'm doing it.
Nope. That's so not me.
A couple days ago when I was out doing my very first run outside (ever) within minutes my ipod (which was Wally's and he gave it to my under strict directions to take good care of it, as I have a reputation of ... losing, scratching and breaking things like that) went flying out of my pocket onto the grass.
Let's just say it's hard to look graceful picking up an ipod off the groudn while still trying to maintain cool athelete mode. It was Sunday morning, no one was around. Thank God.
I can't talk about my lack of great appearance in the sport without mentioning my rooster hair (why would I fix it when I'm gonna have a shower later anyways?!), or my blazing red Rudolf nose (well, I can run in the fog without fear).
All these things combined create quite an entertaining scene, one I wasn't too sure about taking on the road - literally.
But I did last Sunday because in less than 3 weeks I want to achieve my 5K running goal. One I set mysefl up for nicely by turning it into a fund raising event. I really wasn't having any sorts of doubts about being able to achieve this until I got sick the week before we left for Thailand. I remember trying to do my second 25 minute run and barely making 12. My head, nor my heart were in it, let alone my body.
I knew I had to rest. Then of course we were away for 2 weeks at which point I had no plans what so ever of running in any sort of heat, as I was used to the depths of our Canadian winter. We did get plenty of exercise riding our bicycles but that's not the same.
When we got home I worried as it had been 3 weeks plus since running and I had a serious case of jetlag (which I've just overcome!!!). I tried one run on the treadmill and it was sad but I tried. That was my only comfort.
Great spring weather was ushered in on the weekend so I decided 'it's now or never'. My first goal was 10 mins jogging, 5 mins walking, then 10 mins jogging outside. It's one of the workouts they give you before you're hurled into the crazy 20 min run.
Well I did it. Which was a relief because it seems to be that everyone believes that when I say: 'I gonna do blah, blah and blah' that I'm actually gonna do it!!!
It's kind of funny to me when people refer to my 'adventurous spirit' (had that one several times lately from many different people), or my 'zest for life', or my 'crazy ideas'. I seriously always respond in my head with 'WHAT?! You don't know very many exciting people then!'
I'm so incredibly ... run of the mill, not to mention a fraidy cat.
I dont' mean that in a bad way, I just mean that I realize that I'm just normal. I havent' lived in another country, I still keep every receipt from every special trip, I have a regular job, and I thoroughly annoy lots of people (maybe there's something to be said for that -ha ha ha!!).
Anyhoo, I definitely have wondered about this running thing BUT am determined to finish. Today I ran 21 mins straight outside. Or in my language: six songs.
Here are a few things I observed while running:
The first 5-10 mins seem like absolute torture (considering I only run for 20 straight right now I'm not a fan of that ratio).
While being tortured I realize I'm in love with children's sidewalk chalk drawings, they make me smile big every time I see some (even if I've seen them 3 days in a row!). They make things so much better.
As I continue on I decide I love crescents. They're great! You can go down one and know that in a couple mins you will end up on the very same street again - no worries!!! For a girl who is seriously directionally challenged and who lives in a subdivision this is amazing.
Minute 13 - I discover that by pretending a song was written and sung only for me I pretty much feel like I'm a superstar, which makes me think: 'Hells yeah I'm a runner!'
About 15 mins in I wonder who the hell came up with this goal. I hate them. I contemplate quitting.
16 mins in I decide not to because there'll be at least 5 people a the 5K fund raiser and I must live up to the moment. Even if I'm dying and I have four people walking my sorry legs to the finish line.
17-19 mins of the run I visualize a ridiculous slow motion scene of me crossing the finish line with crowds of people squirting their water bottles at me and hugging on me while I do the ugly cry and not care that I look like I was just run over by a train. (I'd better work on a finish line .... and recruiting people to squirt water bottles. Maybe a make up artist would be a smart way to go too).
At 20 mins I think 'I could totally run further'.
Around 21-22 mins my six songs are done and my favourite one to celebrate my success comes on. 'Perfect' by Pink. Love Pink.
Then I walk myself towards home happy with achieving my day's running goal.
Once I get near my block I begin jogging again, just in case the neighbours think I have wimped out half way through and are onto my 'I'm a runner' facade.
Once I get into the house I realize that the side of our crescent I ran up never saw me running in the first place so I could've just passed for a walker. The added torture was in vain.
Oh well.
I'm a runner .... sort of.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
Freddie
I'm currently in my favourite chair. Snuggled at the perfect temperature under an afghan made by one of my grandmas and my favourite lovable pooch.
I've just finished my third chapter of the day of a book that has hooked me in all too easily. It's called 'Water for Elephants'. Glo and I decided that one of the books we would read for our 'book club' would be a book turned into a movie. We'd read the book first then see the movie after (and I'm guessing that as usual we'll like the book better).
I also just finished my very first cup of loose leaf tea. Mmmmmmmm... the smell alone melts me. The flavour for today? Hazelnut Cream. I really don't even need to drink it, it smells so good. My bladder is bursting from the tasting. It will have to wait because my dog is perfectly comfortable. Aside from my pinching and nearly bursting organ, so am I.
What's on my mind today?
Freddie.
I mentioned Freddie a few days ago. He was the gentleman that lives at the dump. He's around 60 with a smile as bright as the sun. Has a young wife an a 3 or 4 year old son.
Ok I've gotta go ... hold on.
Ahhhhhhhh ... my bladder is singing like a black southern choir in the middle of a Sunday morning service. Nice.
Back to Freddie.
The day I met him he was greeting the Compasio staff with what I guessing was his usual smile and kind words. His teeth were discoloured and if I remember correctly there may have been a couple missing.
From what I was told Freddie is a generous soul, willing to share what he has with those he loves.
Both Wally and I were introduced to Freddie while visiting the dump that Thursday but unfortunately (or fortunately) that is not the main impression of him we got to bring home with us.
Our introduction to him at the dump was rather brief. Enough to learn his role there, in some sort of unofficial leadership. He was loved.
What we will remember of Freddie happened the next day and was an unforgettable experience shared with others.
It was Friday afternoon and Wally and I had arrived on time to meet some staff to go play soccer in the Muslim community with some kids. Compasio does this each Friday afternoon. This would be our last item of business to complete until we could say we had seen every part of the operation.
When we arrived we sat for a few minutes and waited. There were a handful of staff around attending to their different jobs. We were relaxing on the couch when out of what seemed to be nowhere Freddie arrived at the office door.
What was not with him was that ever bright smile. Freddie was in tears.
As the staff opened the door to him and ushered him in. He began talking quickly in Burmese, letting the emotions and facts of his story escape.
Compasio's community staff are Burmese (I believe all are, if I'm wrong there are at least several). One of the male staff was there and began talking to Freddie, trying to calm him and find out what was so upsetting.
Other staff began trickling around as Freddie settled onto a spot on the hard cool floor in front of the office doors. There were 6 of us circled around Freddie, biding our time til we could help. (Ok so wally and I knew we'd likely not be of any help but we sat ready to listen).
Freddie talked quickly yet gently. We waited quietly and impatiently for the interpretation. It came slowly and rather choppy as his emotions flowed in and out of his story.
The staff interpret ting asked why he was upset.
It seemed that Freddie had been lent a fishing pole by that staff the day before during our visit to the dump, his son had been playing with it and it broke.
That was simple. He just needed to be reassured that it was not the end of the world. The staff did so, telling him everything was fine.
The conversation went on.
Freddie explained that he yelled at his son for playing with it and in doing so got his wife upset. She did not like the way he spoke to the boy.
Hmmmmm ... interesting.
The staff continued to try and understand Freddie's big problem, why there were so many tears. So far it sounded like a normal domestic spat, not really tear worthy.
As the English speaking female staff pressed with questions to be given through the Burmese staff in the middle, it seemed like forever by the time we were able to piece together what was going on. It seemed as though an interrogation of htis poor man was necessary to find out how anyone could make it better.
As time went on and the questions keep rolling the room was filled with confusion.
Freddie explained that his wife was mad that he spoke to the boy like that because he wasn't the father. They'd been married longer than the boy had been around but apparently Freddie was told years ago that he could not father children. In short, the assumption was that the wife had a child by someone else during their marriage and though Freddie fathered this child in every other way, the discipline given was not accepted, at least not by his wife.
At this point you may be confused. We all were. Especially the staff that had known freddie all this time and his family. They were all shocked at the fact that this boy wasn't his biological son and that this woman basically threw him out.
According to Freddie his wife had told his to leave their home (at the dump) and that if he didn't she would get her brothers after him, according to them he was an old man who was good for nothing. He would be beaten and who knows what else. I remember something about him having to pay money to someone to for causing trouble. His life and livlihood was taken away in a matter of hours.
It took quite a while before the 6 of us fully understood what Freddie was getting at, why he was truly hurt. Was it because of the question of paternity? Maybe, but he seemed ok about the fact that he was possibly raising someone else's son. Was it the fact that the woman he loved didn't want him anymore and he was considered to be expired goods? Possibly. Or was it that he had literally packed up all of his belongings on his bicycle, rode miles into town and now had no where to go and no one to love? This combined with the last question would be my best guesses.
Over the hour that we sat watching and listening to Freddie explain the traumatic events that were currently his life, we watched this adult man cry openly about his sudden losses and need to talk to someone.
Several times during that hour Freddie asked for Jimbo and A-man (a.k.a. A-bag). When the staff asked why them he said he just wanted to talk and that he loved them. He would then cry again and wipe away his tears. When encouraged to sit on a couch or a mat he refused and stayed on the floor. During pauses of discussion amongst the English speakers when trying to figure out the best solution as the people he requested weren't available right then, he made eye contact with each of us around the room and give a seated bow of thanks and say thank you in his language.
Once Jimbo was reached and a semi-solution was figured out, it was agreed that Freddie would be staying a couple of nights with a friend of his down at the market. Jimbo would go talk with him later that night.
This man melted my heart. As did his story.
I'm not sure which part of it got to me most. The fact that he loved the this boy birthed during his marriage whom he had always assumed wasn't his (although could have been, doctors are wrong everyday), that this man loved his wife enough to overlook this dust bunny bit of information, or that he was upset about leaving his home that happened to be at the town dump.
Or it could be that he was openly broken over the entire situation without pride or worry about what we thought, only caring to be heard and loved by someone trusted.
Wow. How much life is different here in North America, or at least the parts that I'm familiar with.
I hope Freddie is well today. I hope his smile is shining like the sun. I hope he is surrounded by someone who loves and listens to him.
I suppose when it all comes down to it. That's all we really need.
Love and Listen.
I've just finished my third chapter of the day of a book that has hooked me in all too easily. It's called 'Water for Elephants'. Glo and I decided that one of the books we would read for our 'book club' would be a book turned into a movie. We'd read the book first then see the movie after (and I'm guessing that as usual we'll like the book better).
I also just finished my very first cup of loose leaf tea. Mmmmmmmm... the smell alone melts me. The flavour for today? Hazelnut Cream. I really don't even need to drink it, it smells so good. My bladder is bursting from the tasting. It will have to wait because my dog is perfectly comfortable. Aside from my pinching and nearly bursting organ, so am I.
What's on my mind today?
Freddie.
I mentioned Freddie a few days ago. He was the gentleman that lives at the dump. He's around 60 with a smile as bright as the sun. Has a young wife an a 3 or 4 year old son.
Ok I've gotta go ... hold on.
Ahhhhhhhh ... my bladder is singing like a black southern choir in the middle of a Sunday morning service. Nice.
Back to Freddie.
The day I met him he was greeting the Compasio staff with what I guessing was his usual smile and kind words. His teeth were discoloured and if I remember correctly there may have been a couple missing.
From what I was told Freddie is a generous soul, willing to share what he has with those he loves.
Both Wally and I were introduced to Freddie while visiting the dump that Thursday but unfortunately (or fortunately) that is not the main impression of him we got to bring home with us.
Our introduction to him at the dump was rather brief. Enough to learn his role there, in some sort of unofficial leadership. He was loved.
What we will remember of Freddie happened the next day and was an unforgettable experience shared with others.
It was Friday afternoon and Wally and I had arrived on time to meet some staff to go play soccer in the Muslim community with some kids. Compasio does this each Friday afternoon. This would be our last item of business to complete until we could say we had seen every part of the operation.
When we arrived we sat for a few minutes and waited. There were a handful of staff around attending to their different jobs. We were relaxing on the couch when out of what seemed to be nowhere Freddie arrived at the office door.
What was not with him was that ever bright smile. Freddie was in tears.
As the staff opened the door to him and ushered him in. He began talking quickly in Burmese, letting the emotions and facts of his story escape.
Compasio's community staff are Burmese (I believe all are, if I'm wrong there are at least several). One of the male staff was there and began talking to Freddie, trying to calm him and find out what was so upsetting.
Other staff began trickling around as Freddie settled onto a spot on the hard cool floor in front of the office doors. There were 6 of us circled around Freddie, biding our time til we could help. (Ok so wally and I knew we'd likely not be of any help but we sat ready to listen).
Freddie talked quickly yet gently. We waited quietly and impatiently for the interpretation. It came slowly and rather choppy as his emotions flowed in and out of his story.
The staff interpret ting asked why he was upset.
It seemed that Freddie had been lent a fishing pole by that staff the day before during our visit to the dump, his son had been playing with it and it broke.
That was simple. He just needed to be reassured that it was not the end of the world. The staff did so, telling him everything was fine.
The conversation went on.
Freddie explained that he yelled at his son for playing with it and in doing so got his wife upset. She did not like the way he spoke to the boy.
Hmmmmm ... interesting.
The staff continued to try and understand Freddie's big problem, why there were so many tears. So far it sounded like a normal domestic spat, not really tear worthy.
As the English speaking female staff pressed with questions to be given through the Burmese staff in the middle, it seemed like forever by the time we were able to piece together what was going on. It seemed as though an interrogation of htis poor man was necessary to find out how anyone could make it better.
As time went on and the questions keep rolling the room was filled with confusion.
Freddie explained that his wife was mad that he spoke to the boy like that because he wasn't the father. They'd been married longer than the boy had been around but apparently Freddie was told years ago that he could not father children. In short, the assumption was that the wife had a child by someone else during their marriage and though Freddie fathered this child in every other way, the discipline given was not accepted, at least not by his wife.
At this point you may be confused. We all were. Especially the staff that had known freddie all this time and his family. They were all shocked at the fact that this boy wasn't his biological son and that this woman basically threw him out.
According to Freddie his wife had told his to leave their home (at the dump) and that if he didn't she would get her brothers after him, according to them he was an old man who was good for nothing. He would be beaten and who knows what else. I remember something about him having to pay money to someone to for causing trouble. His life and livlihood was taken away in a matter of hours.
It took quite a while before the 6 of us fully understood what Freddie was getting at, why he was truly hurt. Was it because of the question of paternity? Maybe, but he seemed ok about the fact that he was possibly raising someone else's son. Was it the fact that the woman he loved didn't want him anymore and he was considered to be expired goods? Possibly. Or was it that he had literally packed up all of his belongings on his bicycle, rode miles into town and now had no where to go and no one to love? This combined with the last question would be my best guesses.
Over the hour that we sat watching and listening to Freddie explain the traumatic events that were currently his life, we watched this adult man cry openly about his sudden losses and need to talk to someone.
Several times during that hour Freddie asked for Jimbo and A-man (a.k.a. A-bag). When the staff asked why them he said he just wanted to talk and that he loved them. He would then cry again and wipe away his tears. When encouraged to sit on a couch or a mat he refused and stayed on the floor. During pauses of discussion amongst the English speakers when trying to figure out the best solution as the people he requested weren't available right then, he made eye contact with each of us around the room and give a seated bow of thanks and say thank you in his language.
Once Jimbo was reached and a semi-solution was figured out, it was agreed that Freddie would be staying a couple of nights with a friend of his down at the market. Jimbo would go talk with him later that night.
This man melted my heart. As did his story.
I'm not sure which part of it got to me most. The fact that he loved the this boy birthed during his marriage whom he had always assumed wasn't his (although could have been, doctors are wrong everyday), that this man loved his wife enough to overlook this dust bunny bit of information, or that he was upset about leaving his home that happened to be at the town dump.
Or it could be that he was openly broken over the entire situation without pride or worry about what we thought, only caring to be heard and loved by someone trusted.
Wow. How much life is different here in North America, or at least the parts that I'm familiar with.
I hope Freddie is well today. I hope his smile is shining like the sun. I hope he is surrounded by someone who loves and listens to him.
I suppose when it all comes down to it. That's all we really need.
Love and Listen.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Totally unrelated ... My yard
I must confess.
I want to be a mama.
Yesterday.
I'm doing fairly well at staying in the moment and really not worrying about whatever happens but I think it's time for me to be real. I really do want to be somebody's mama.
This somewhat old realization scares most of me to death but then when I drive by teenagers hagning out with their possy with baby in arms and stroller before them I remind myself that considering what more (hopefully) I have to give (I hope I didn't sound too pompus, you get the idea), that I'll be able to do a mmostly decent job raising a human.
Wally wants it too, which is probably what makes me want it as well. For ever he was hesitant and reluctant to commit to the idea of purposefully pursuing the biggest, most important job in the universe.
He's not any more. I'm not either.
I find myself now in a familiar limbo of wanting something and being content.
tHE times I feel the struggle most is when I see people that either jump into it without a second thought (the ones that 'fell in love' 5 seconds ago and must 'seal the deal' with a baby), and those that found themselves there 'by accident' and perhaps don't appear ready (if that's even possible) to venture into this dreaded and envied position.
I support a young lady who lives with a family. In that family (though she doesn't live there) is a young lady who is 19 years old. She is, as my husband's grandmother would say, 'that way'. Within the next month or so she will welcome her first little one, along with her unemployed boyfriend, into the world.
Now I have a hard time condemning anyone for anything. I feel guilty for painting her in a negative light, for painting him in a negative light. THey seem like nice, yet very naive and immature, young people. It's not fair to them that I judge or decided what's right or wrong. It's none of my budiness.
I do know that when I walk into the house and see her sprawled on the couch with a nest in her hair, looking rather anemic week after week I wonder how it happened that I'm a 31 year old woman somewhat (I do only mean somewhat) jealous over this 19 year old girl who clearly needs a bit more time to grow before birthing her own little mini me.
I try to remind myself that to some degree I made a choice to wait. At the same time the other side of my mind tells me that I did try and give things a chance. Then I remember Wally and I just tried to do the best with the situations we found ourselves in, in order to avoid being unemployed parents (and yes I fully realize this could happen at anytime to anyone who has worked very hard, including us - I do hope you get the idea of what I'm saying though), with little but frustrated burned out bitter attitudes on life to offer our chilcdren.
I feel like I'm being real negative towards every family with kids that's ever found themselves in a less than ideal situation I'm not meaning things that way ... I hope you are getting my drift.
When I see that girl with her growing belly and frazzled hair I do my best to be happy for her chance to experience this miracle ... ok I'm lying I don't really try to do that. I do my best not to wish I were her, or wish I was anything else but me right now. I have a great life and no matter how it goes in the realm of children I will do my best to be joyful in all I have.
I know the dangers of jealousy and envy. Of discontentment in where you're at. There's no need for it because there's no truer saying that applies than 'The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence'.
I am trying to enjoy my yard. Weeds and all.
In hopes that one day there might be little ones playing in it :)
I want to be a mama.
Yesterday.
I'm doing fairly well at staying in the moment and really not worrying about whatever happens but I think it's time for me to be real. I really do want to be somebody's mama.
This somewhat old realization scares most of me to death but then when I drive by teenagers hagning out with their possy with baby in arms and stroller before them I remind myself that considering what more (hopefully) I have to give (I hope I didn't sound too pompus, you get the idea), that I'll be able to do a mmostly decent job raising a human.
Wally wants it too, which is probably what makes me want it as well. For ever he was hesitant and reluctant to commit to the idea of purposefully pursuing the biggest, most important job in the universe.
He's not any more. I'm not either.
I find myself now in a familiar limbo of wanting something and being content.
tHE times I feel the struggle most is when I see people that either jump into it without a second thought (the ones that 'fell in love' 5 seconds ago and must 'seal the deal' with a baby), and those that found themselves there 'by accident' and perhaps don't appear ready (if that's even possible) to venture into this dreaded and envied position.
I support a young lady who lives with a family. In that family (though she doesn't live there) is a young lady who is 19 years old. She is, as my husband's grandmother would say, 'that way'. Within the next month or so she will welcome her first little one, along with her unemployed boyfriend, into the world.
Now I have a hard time condemning anyone for anything. I feel guilty for painting her in a negative light, for painting him in a negative light. THey seem like nice, yet very naive and immature, young people. It's not fair to them that I judge or decided what's right or wrong. It's none of my budiness.
I do know that when I walk into the house and see her sprawled on the couch with a nest in her hair, looking rather anemic week after week I wonder how it happened that I'm a 31 year old woman somewhat (I do only mean somewhat) jealous over this 19 year old girl who clearly needs a bit more time to grow before birthing her own little mini me.
I try to remind myself that to some degree I made a choice to wait. At the same time the other side of my mind tells me that I did try and give things a chance. Then I remember Wally and I just tried to do the best with the situations we found ourselves in, in order to avoid being unemployed parents (and yes I fully realize this could happen at anytime to anyone who has worked very hard, including us - I do hope you get the idea of what I'm saying though), with little but frustrated burned out bitter attitudes on life to offer our chilcdren.
I feel like I'm being real negative towards every family with kids that's ever found themselves in a less than ideal situation I'm not meaning things that way ... I hope you are getting my drift.
When I see that girl with her growing belly and frazzled hair I do my best to be happy for her chance to experience this miracle ... ok I'm lying I don't really try to do that. I do my best not to wish I were her, or wish I was anything else but me right now. I have a great life and no matter how it goes in the realm of children I will do my best to be joyful in all I have.
I know the dangers of jealousy and envy. Of discontentment in where you're at. There's no need for it because there's no truer saying that applies than 'The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence'.
I am trying to enjoy my yard. Weeds and all.
In hopes that one day there might be little ones playing in it :)
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Our Souvenirs
I have more experiences and stories to share surrounding our trip but I thought I would tell you about the two big things (for us) that we took away from it.
Now I'm going to warn you that they aren't going to seem like a big deal to anyone else, nor will they likely sound all that earth shattering considering some people would come home from a trip like this deciding to sell all they own give it to the poor and move back (though I'm a step away from that).
The first thing that struck both Wally and myself (while we were still in Thailand) was how the lifestyle there was so different.
For us much of it was because of a lack of Internet access, television, or any way to enjoy media of any kind. However I don't imagine that too many people (the poor ones anyways do). I mean if you are doing ok you can certainly have cable just like here, Internet and all that stuff for sure. But since we didn't bring a laptop to check e-mail while we were somewhere with wi-fi and our place didn't have anything else at all, we had only ourselves for amusement.
Most of the time we had there was used visiting the different parts of Compasio's work, visiting with friends or seeing new places but there was usually a pointin the day when we had a couple of hours of down time. Time we'd definitely usually fill with media (as I am right now).
We noticed immediately how much more time we seemed to have to talk, to read or just to sit together and we didn't even have very large chunks of time! A couple of hours seems like several with nothing else to do. (Of course we were on vacation and didn't have housework, dogs, yard maintenance, laundry or meal prep either).
Still we seemed to enjoy the benefits of little to no technology to distract us. I don't think we've ever chatted that much (and I think we talk quite a bit).
After the week in Mae Sot of no distractions we decided that life seemed much more relaxed, attentive, and rich with less time glued to screens and more time with quietness. We made the firm decision that when we got home we would commit to less tv, Internet and separate use of both of these things. By that I mean if we're on the Internet we'll now more often than not both be on it in the same room together. It sounds ridiculous I know, but it feels different.
We've decided to spend much more time upstairs in our more formal living room that holds no tv. If we want to watch something we'll just gear up the lappy and watch upstairs. I don't know what makes it so much different but it has. We're enjoying more limited time watching stuff and more time just hanging out when we can. As I mentioned before something about our relationship is different since the trip and it's great.
The second and perhaps more interesting take away from our trip would be the realization that we could definitely live in another country - I mean a foreign country, and be very happy.
Whenever I've ever imagined myself as a potential .... hmmmmm I don't know any other word but missionary though I don't know if it fits for this, you get the idea right? I've thought of painfully sacrificing any good thing I've had possession of: comfy bed, nice car, warm home, hot water, indoor plumbing, real food, and any other good thing in life.
After meeting and visiting the homes of many 'missionary' types in Thailand I realize that you can still live comfortably in another country. More importantly I know now I could get used to driving on the other side of the road, I could learn how to drive a motorbike (even though I didn't, nor did I try, I know the thought doesn't overwhelm me - I was just lazy), I could learn the language (I LOVE learning), I could make friends (unfortunately I am addicted to social time), I could adapt my eating (good bye clean eating but it is balanced with the fact you can choose to bicycle everywhere and work it off quite well) and many other things.
I adapted far better than I ever thought I would to the changes we experienced and though many would point out the difference a week is compared to a year I know in my heart how comfortable I felt there. I honestly was never for a second home sick for anything.
I know, I know, how could a week possibly be enough time to get homesick but just trust me.
This latter realization was true for both Wally and myself, surprisingly. While we were still there we chatted about the possibility of going back even if we did it just for the lifestyle change. Wally was open to the idea of doing the kind of work he does now only obviously it would be different in that he'd be working sort of on his own (he'd have to get contract work, but he could do it). I could devout my time to hopefully raising our kids and possibly working with an organization in their work with people. Wally could do that as well during his off time.
I'm not sure how likely it is to happen any time soon but I at least hope that some day we will return or go somewhere else to live if even for only a period of a year or so to experience a different lifestyle for ourselves and our children (if they ever decide to make an entrance). I don't ever want to get too comfortable in our life where we are right now.
Many people that I've talked to form here (Canada) assume that by saying 'we don't want to get comfortable' means we need to have wooden benches instead of couches, straw beds on hundred year old iron rod beds, hand me down clothes and not a screen in sight. That is not what I am talking about when I say we don't want to get too comfortable.
In my opinion it doesn't matter one bit what you have: a $700 car or a $50 000 car. Do you own it? Or does it own you? Are you comfortable giving whatever you have up so that you can answer a calling to do something different or to heed a realization? Or does having what you have make the thought of doing what you know is right more difficult?
I'm no saint what-so-ever (I just heard a thousand Amens) but I know, at least right now, I could sell my house, my car, my new leather couches that I got for a steal, my computer, my cozy bed that I enjoyed all the more when I got home, and a hundred other things if I felt called to go back to Thailand. The stuff in my life (at least right now) does not make me answer to it.
There are a few relationships that would be a challenge to deal with. Ones that wouldn't understand, ones that wouldn't agree, ones that just wouldn't like it.
I think it's those relationships that would be the difficult part. No one tell us to get rid of people that make us too comfortable.
In the end I don't think it's wrong to have wonderfully great things (it's all a matter of perspective on what's great anyways) as long as they don't determine your life, that includes how you share all you have (time, talent, money).
So, Wally and I may not have come back having changed the ways people expected we did change in ways we didn't and they were beautiful surprising gifts.
I do hope some day we get to experience life in another culture, it excites me to think about. For now we are hoping to do our best taking the best things we learned from Thailand and applying them to our life here.
Simplify. Quiet. Slow down. Give. Respect. Love. Listen. Feel. Act.
And if one day we are told, in a still quiet voice to go, we will.
Our souvenirs didn't come from a store. Ask any real traveller - they are the best ones.
Now I'm going to warn you that they aren't going to seem like a big deal to anyone else, nor will they likely sound all that earth shattering considering some people would come home from a trip like this deciding to sell all they own give it to the poor and move back (though I'm a step away from that).
The first thing that struck both Wally and myself (while we were still in Thailand) was how the lifestyle there was so different.
For us much of it was because of a lack of Internet access, television, or any way to enjoy media of any kind. However I don't imagine that too many people (the poor ones anyways do). I mean if you are doing ok you can certainly have cable just like here, Internet and all that stuff for sure. But since we didn't bring a laptop to check e-mail while we were somewhere with wi-fi and our place didn't have anything else at all, we had only ourselves for amusement.
Most of the time we had there was used visiting the different parts of Compasio's work, visiting with friends or seeing new places but there was usually a pointin the day when we had a couple of hours of down time. Time we'd definitely usually fill with media (as I am right now).
We noticed immediately how much more time we seemed to have to talk, to read or just to sit together and we didn't even have very large chunks of time! A couple of hours seems like several with nothing else to do. (Of course we were on vacation and didn't have housework, dogs, yard maintenance, laundry or meal prep either).
Still we seemed to enjoy the benefits of little to no technology to distract us. I don't think we've ever chatted that much (and I think we talk quite a bit).
After the week in Mae Sot of no distractions we decided that life seemed much more relaxed, attentive, and rich with less time glued to screens and more time with quietness. We made the firm decision that when we got home we would commit to less tv, Internet and separate use of both of these things. By that I mean if we're on the Internet we'll now more often than not both be on it in the same room together. It sounds ridiculous I know, but it feels different.
We've decided to spend much more time upstairs in our more formal living room that holds no tv. If we want to watch something we'll just gear up the lappy and watch upstairs. I don't know what makes it so much different but it has. We're enjoying more limited time watching stuff and more time just hanging out when we can. As I mentioned before something about our relationship is different since the trip and it's great.
The second and perhaps more interesting take away from our trip would be the realization that we could definitely live in another country - I mean a foreign country, and be very happy.
Whenever I've ever imagined myself as a potential .... hmmmmm I don't know any other word but missionary though I don't know if it fits for this, you get the idea right? I've thought of painfully sacrificing any good thing I've had possession of: comfy bed, nice car, warm home, hot water, indoor plumbing, real food, and any other good thing in life.
After meeting and visiting the homes of many 'missionary' types in Thailand I realize that you can still live comfortably in another country. More importantly I know now I could get used to driving on the other side of the road, I could learn how to drive a motorbike (even though I didn't, nor did I try, I know the thought doesn't overwhelm me - I was just lazy), I could learn the language (I LOVE learning), I could make friends (unfortunately I am addicted to social time), I could adapt my eating (good bye clean eating but it is balanced with the fact you can choose to bicycle everywhere and work it off quite well) and many other things.
I adapted far better than I ever thought I would to the changes we experienced and though many would point out the difference a week is compared to a year I know in my heart how comfortable I felt there. I honestly was never for a second home sick for anything.
I know, I know, how could a week possibly be enough time to get homesick but just trust me.
This latter realization was true for both Wally and myself, surprisingly. While we were still there we chatted about the possibility of going back even if we did it just for the lifestyle change. Wally was open to the idea of doing the kind of work he does now only obviously it would be different in that he'd be working sort of on his own (he'd have to get contract work, but he could do it). I could devout my time to hopefully raising our kids and possibly working with an organization in their work with people. Wally could do that as well during his off time.
I'm not sure how likely it is to happen any time soon but I at least hope that some day we will return or go somewhere else to live if even for only a period of a year or so to experience a different lifestyle for ourselves and our children (if they ever decide to make an entrance). I don't ever want to get too comfortable in our life where we are right now.
Many people that I've talked to form here (Canada) assume that by saying 'we don't want to get comfortable' means we need to have wooden benches instead of couches, straw beds on hundred year old iron rod beds, hand me down clothes and not a screen in sight. That is not what I am talking about when I say we don't want to get too comfortable.
In my opinion it doesn't matter one bit what you have: a $700 car or a $50 000 car. Do you own it? Or does it own you? Are you comfortable giving whatever you have up so that you can answer a calling to do something different or to heed a realization? Or does having what you have make the thought of doing what you know is right more difficult?
I'm no saint what-so-ever (I just heard a thousand Amens) but I know, at least right now, I could sell my house, my car, my new leather couches that I got for a steal, my computer, my cozy bed that I enjoyed all the more when I got home, and a hundred other things if I felt called to go back to Thailand. The stuff in my life (at least right now) does not make me answer to it.
There are a few relationships that would be a challenge to deal with. Ones that wouldn't understand, ones that wouldn't agree, ones that just wouldn't like it.
I think it's those relationships that would be the difficult part. No one tell us to get rid of people that make us too comfortable.
In the end I don't think it's wrong to have wonderfully great things (it's all a matter of perspective on what's great anyways) as long as they don't determine your life, that includes how you share all you have (time, talent, money).
So, Wally and I may not have come back having changed the ways people expected we did change in ways we didn't and they were beautiful surprising gifts.
I do hope some day we get to experience life in another culture, it excites me to think about. For now we are hoping to do our best taking the best things we learned from Thailand and applying them to our life here.
Simplify. Quiet. Slow down. Give. Respect. Love. Listen. Feel. Act.
And if one day we are told, in a still quiet voice to go, we will.
Our souvenirs didn't come from a store. Ask any real traveller - they are the best ones.
Friday, April 8, 2011
1 week
That's how long we've been back 'home' since our rather short stint to the other side of the world.
A few things we've experienced ...
* An incredibly difficult adjustment in our sleep schedules, including: waking up generally after only 6 hours of sleep each night then both hitting a 'wall' around 3 or 4 in the afternoon.
Wally is much better than I at disciplining himself to stay in bed when he can't sleep. Prompting his body to fall back into at least some sort of slumber.
I, though, am a different sort and continue to battle with the same sleep dilemma I did before leaving only much intensified. I've had to force early morning naps (Wednesday from 9-10am and this am from 5:40-7-8am). I'm hoping we're close to ending this game soon.
Needless to say jet lag has been a magnified version of my regular sleep problems which has been less than a picnic.
* Wally and I have stayed true to our desire to spend more time on the main floor of our house - this has to do with the fact our computer and television is downstairs and is part of the 1 of 2 things we learned while away. I'll blog about those soon!
By doing so we've both felt less distracted during our time together and have since limited our tv watching to at most 1 hr in an evening (that is when we are even home together - only 2 nights this week). It's been a very good decision.
* As mentioned in my last couple of posts, I've made some serious decisions surrounding my work. Deciding to cut back on hours and trying to focus on doing work that I connect with both where I'm at and in exploring new ventures.
I am currently looking into volunteer opportunities within the city and ideas of income generating opportunities for women that Compasio works with and how I might be a part of getting something off of the ground there using a big chunk of the funds I'm raising. This one seems huge but I figure if I can work on making a few connections and learning as I go maybe I can help with it. We'll see where it goes.
* I had a few great visits with friends that have truly supported my venture to visit Thailand. I have really appreciated all of their encouragement and interest in this endeavour and honestly couldn't have done it without them, or at least I wouldn't have gotten as much out of it as I have - they inspired me without knowing it. For that and their friendship I am so grateful.
* I've learned this week that I have more of a community around me in those fore mentioned friends than I thought. I've received words of wisdom, encouragement and knowledge from them in how they see me and my life. They've been a mirror to me and shown me things in my own life that I could not see myself and they are there when I need them. I can't say that about everyone in my life.
* There have been moments that I've wondered if Thailand was just a romantic experience that I had without true love. Then I realized that it was actually only a first date, however every great love story has some sort of first date.
Though the first few days back I missed Thailand terribly and my heart ached to be back there, to feel free again. I am trying to ease myself back to the reality that is currently my life in a manner that will keep me close to my love.
This means remembering the wonderful things I received on my 'first date', looking at them as reminders, honouring them with my commitment to live truly and balancing what I know is real in life within the culture I am living. I am doing my best to learn how to live here presently rather than longing for something that it isn't yet time for.
* I have noticed something quietly different about mine and Wally's relationship since Thailand. There's something gentler about it. I like it.
Actually ... I love it.
I'd say overall that the week back to our life here in Canada has gone fairly well (aside from a disappointment here and there). I'm desperately holding tightly to our memories that I fear will pass us by too soon.
My biggest fear is that I'll forget.
I'll forget what happened. I'll forget what we saw. I'll forget what we felt. I'll forget to keep loving.
It's been 1 week since we said 'see you later'.
I wonder how many more weeks I'll have to wait to say 'Hello! I missed you! So glad to be home :)'
I'm already dreaming ...
A few things we've experienced ...
* An incredibly difficult adjustment in our sleep schedules, including: waking up generally after only 6 hours of sleep each night then both hitting a 'wall' around 3 or 4 in the afternoon.
Wally is much better than I at disciplining himself to stay in bed when he can't sleep. Prompting his body to fall back into at least some sort of slumber.
I, though, am a different sort and continue to battle with the same sleep dilemma I did before leaving only much intensified. I've had to force early morning naps (Wednesday from 9-10am and this am from 5:40-7-8am). I'm hoping we're close to ending this game soon.
Needless to say jet lag has been a magnified version of my regular sleep problems which has been less than a picnic.
* Wally and I have stayed true to our desire to spend more time on the main floor of our house - this has to do with the fact our computer and television is downstairs and is part of the 1 of 2 things we learned while away. I'll blog about those soon!
By doing so we've both felt less distracted during our time together and have since limited our tv watching to at most 1 hr in an evening (that is when we are even home together - only 2 nights this week). It's been a very good decision.
* As mentioned in my last couple of posts, I've made some serious decisions surrounding my work. Deciding to cut back on hours and trying to focus on doing work that I connect with both where I'm at and in exploring new ventures.
I am currently looking into volunteer opportunities within the city and ideas of income generating opportunities for women that Compasio works with and how I might be a part of getting something off of the ground there using a big chunk of the funds I'm raising. This one seems huge but I figure if I can work on making a few connections and learning as I go maybe I can help with it. We'll see where it goes.
* I had a few great visits with friends that have truly supported my venture to visit Thailand. I have really appreciated all of their encouragement and interest in this endeavour and honestly couldn't have done it without them, or at least I wouldn't have gotten as much out of it as I have - they inspired me without knowing it. For that and their friendship I am so grateful.
* I've learned this week that I have more of a community around me in those fore mentioned friends than I thought. I've received words of wisdom, encouragement and knowledge from them in how they see me and my life. They've been a mirror to me and shown me things in my own life that I could not see myself and they are there when I need them. I can't say that about everyone in my life.
* There have been moments that I've wondered if Thailand was just a romantic experience that I had without true love. Then I realized that it was actually only a first date, however every great love story has some sort of first date.
Though the first few days back I missed Thailand terribly and my heart ached to be back there, to feel free again. I am trying to ease myself back to the reality that is currently my life in a manner that will keep me close to my love.
This means remembering the wonderful things I received on my 'first date', looking at them as reminders, honouring them with my commitment to live truly and balancing what I know is real in life within the culture I am living. I am doing my best to learn how to live here presently rather than longing for something that it isn't yet time for.
* I have noticed something quietly different about mine and Wally's relationship since Thailand. There's something gentler about it. I like it.
Actually ... I love it.
I'd say overall that the week back to our life here in Canada has gone fairly well (aside from a disappointment here and there). I'm desperately holding tightly to our memories that I fear will pass us by too soon.
My biggest fear is that I'll forget.
I'll forget what happened. I'll forget what we saw. I'll forget what we felt. I'll forget to keep loving.
It's been 1 week since we said 'see you later'.
I wonder how many more weeks I'll have to wait to say 'Hello! I missed you! So glad to be home :)'
I'm already dreaming ...
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Sorry 'bout that!
For the horrific spelling and lack of editing in my last post.
It was my second try at it and I was tired.
I just can't live without spell check ..... or sleep :(
It was my second try at it and I was tired.
I just can't live without spell check ..... or sleep :(
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
A chain of unexpected events ....
I had a meeting with my manager yesterday. That wasn't unexpected. What happened in it was.
I am not much different than a lot of people. I experience a certain level of anxiety before returning to work after being away. I've often wondered if the going back to work part of a vacation is even worth going on the vacation.
I was surprised to learn that this time the transition was a little different.
It was different because it wasn't so much the diving back into who knows what that bothered me but the entire idea of going back to a job that hasn't satisfied me much at all lately. And considering my passionate stand on living life true to yourself, your call in life and being at peace with both of these things this didn't bode well with my spirit.
I was beginning (before I even left for Thailand) to feel like I was lying both to myself and those around me about living honestly.
Why so challenging all of a sudden? Well perhaps mostly because of my pride. Because who wants to admit, after going to college for the first time at 28 yrs of age they don't LOVE what they do? Who wants to admit they ultimately forced the selling of their home so they could 'scratch the itch' of wanting to learn academically, and then later learn they don't like the outcome all that much?
I don't.
I don't really want to tell people 'Yeah, so, after all that I hate my job'. Of course part of the reason I don't want to say that is because it's not entirely true.
There are many of parts of my job that I love. I love the people I get to meet and know. I love the stories I hear. The 'this would only happen in this job' experiences. Mostly though I think I love fighting for the 'underdog'. Advocating for those who don't have a voice (figuratively and literally speaking), evening if you are fighting someone that's supposed to be on the same team as you.
As I spoke to people openly after Thailand about returning to work,I fully disclosed that if I was free to, I'd absolutely be home right now packing up my life and heading back on a plane to where I was. To settle in and finally give life to an undiscovered dream that I always wondered about.
Quitting my job wouldn't ever be a question in that case.
However, as I shared with people the unfulfillment in my work, I always threw in the disclaimer that said 'But, there's this one shift that gives me life, a spark of fulfillment and excitement. It's that shift that keeps me going and gives me a reason not to throw the baby out with the bath water.'
So yesterday when I went into meet with my manager I had several thoughts swirling about in my mind...
'I'd love to just say - I quit. I'd love to just through in the towel. I'm bored, tired and unstimulated. This isn't for me - good bye.'
Then there was the grounded thought wave ...
'Everything's fine, it's going well, I'm happy with everything. See you in 8 weeks.'
After discussing briefly with Wally the idea of me giving up the only weekend shift I had (one I actually enjoyed but was an all day Sunday shift) I told him that I'd give work another whirl and not think about changing anything until my next meeting in a couple months. I didn't want to be rash and emotional about it.
Wally had left around 7:15am and somewhere between then and 8 am when I left for my first shift before my impending meeting I decided that I was going into that meeting and getting rid of my weekend shift, because I knew that would just simply make me happy.
I realized as I thought about it and got excited that I needed to this before I really started to resent my work. I wouldn't ask for a thing in return, I would just lose the hours.
I was admittedly shocked at my decision. This wasn't like me. It would greatly alter my pay cheque and I had yet to secure another shift, job or possibility. I was simply putting what I knew was right for me (and Wally I think) ahead of any of it.
Also shocking was that I didn't discuss this with Wally ahead. We always talk about stuff like this, big or small first to make sure we're on the same page. I was going on a hunch that this wasn't just me being selfish but that I was being led to make this decision.
When the time came I entered my manager's office. It was 10:30am, I had already had a couple of great chats with co workers before the meeting and felt good about my decision. That is until I got some news ...
First order of business. I was notified that the shift that fulfilled my aspirations and gave me an element of 'you're good at what you do', the only one really that I felt absolutely great in every way about (probably because I had to advocate my ass off for the person and got to ruffle a feather or two and I love that!!), was being taken away and given to a full time staff that needed the hours due to the passing of another person supported.
There are two things I must mention here: the shift was technically 'temporary' as I was filling it for someone who was in a temporary position that had just gone permanent therefore putting the hours 'up for sale'. And of course a full time person trumps a part time person in their 1 year waiting period (by a mile).
It didn't matter that the fit may not be right (even the person taking the shift asked for something else and apologized to me - even though they absolutely had nothing to apologize for).
I knew all along that the shift wasn't mine, however I was told the chances were high that I would get it as I'd been doing it for a 9 months, learned everything about the person, developed a good re pore, and was one of two of the main go-to people for all of her needs. I did all of her budgeting, many appointments, communication with her day program, and very hard advocating for this person to go on an agency cruise she'd signed herself up for - that really she could barely afford to go on.
I was stunned. In fact I'm sure there's an imprint from the 2 x 4 on my face that I got hit by.
I breathed my way through not crying and as I was being told it was followed up with 'You're a great member of the team (that's like telling someone 'you are a great breather') .... oh, and you'll be training the new staff starting next week.'
I knew that it would be perceived that I was upset about the loss of hours. Seeing as what I would say next, I hoped it was understood that wasn't the case.
I was already nervous about giving up my Sunday shift but this added to the emotion. I hadn't calculated where my hours would be. However at this point I didn't care, I would worry about that later (if at all).
Still reeling from the news I announce my desire for weekends off to be free to be with my husband and for friends and family. I make it clear I want nothing in return.
It was meant with no resistance. Just a few notes jotted down.
Calculations were made to see that I went from 39 hrs one week, 29 hrs the other (a perfect 34 hr schedule average), to 24 hrs and 25 hrs (plus still 2 hrs temporary on top).
Wow. I couldn't believe it. I went from giving up 8 hrs per pay to losing 15 hrs in a matter of a half hour. This wasn't in the plan.
I left the meeting in shock. In shock over my decision to get my weekends back, in shock over what I felt was an injustice done to not only myself and all of the heart I poured into the person I supported's life, but also the injustice done to them. Their other main worker is going on mat leave in a few months thus leaving her with no more advocates (well I'm assuming the future a bit).
I can honestly say I don't give a rip about the hours which at this point will calculate into a much smaller pay cheque, but a bitterness is developing surrounding the agency I am at.
Now as I say this I am well aware I need to nip it in the bud. I am well aware that all agencies are similar in their approach to how the operation works. I am well aware that numbers trump people more often than anyone wants.
That doesn't change the grief I feel over it one bit.
One of my co worker friends who I greatly respect told me Sunday night how much I needed to quit because I was so depressed/disappointed with my work. Or, she suggested go down to 25 hrs a week ...
After I thought on it a bit I decided that perhaps what was happening was all happening to free me up. To let the best things come. To encourage me to stop having to control every twist and turn of my life.
Part of the reason I held onto the Sunday shift was because I was thinking ahead to after we have kids and what would work best. Really I was worrying and solving problems that didn't even exist yet. In doing so I was creating unnecessary problems and great unhappiness for myself now.
That's crazy!!
I now have a much greater sense of freedom to experiment and explore what might be around the corner for me next.
I have known since last June this is what I should be doing but could never bring myself to do it. Well, here I am. Unplanned and unexpected but very present are infinite possibilities...
For the first time ever I am going to consciously try to NOT achieve anything except letting the good stuff find me.
Hopefully it will be exciting to see what opens up ...
I am not much different than a lot of people. I experience a certain level of anxiety before returning to work after being away. I've often wondered if the going back to work part of a vacation is even worth going on the vacation.
I was surprised to learn that this time the transition was a little different.
It was different because it wasn't so much the diving back into who knows what that bothered me but the entire idea of going back to a job that hasn't satisfied me much at all lately. And considering my passionate stand on living life true to yourself, your call in life and being at peace with both of these things this didn't bode well with my spirit.
I was beginning (before I even left for Thailand) to feel like I was lying both to myself and those around me about living honestly.
Why so challenging all of a sudden? Well perhaps mostly because of my pride. Because who wants to admit, after going to college for the first time at 28 yrs of age they don't LOVE what they do? Who wants to admit they ultimately forced the selling of their home so they could 'scratch the itch' of wanting to learn academically, and then later learn they don't like the outcome all that much?
I don't.
I don't really want to tell people 'Yeah, so, after all that I hate my job'. Of course part of the reason I don't want to say that is because it's not entirely true.
There are many of parts of my job that I love. I love the people I get to meet and know. I love the stories I hear. The 'this would only happen in this job' experiences. Mostly though I think I love fighting for the 'underdog'. Advocating for those who don't have a voice (figuratively and literally speaking), evening if you are fighting someone that's supposed to be on the same team as you.
As I spoke to people openly after Thailand about returning to work,I fully disclosed that if I was free to, I'd absolutely be home right now packing up my life and heading back on a plane to where I was. To settle in and finally give life to an undiscovered dream that I always wondered about.
Quitting my job wouldn't ever be a question in that case.
However, as I shared with people the unfulfillment in my work, I always threw in the disclaimer that said 'But, there's this one shift that gives me life, a spark of fulfillment and excitement. It's that shift that keeps me going and gives me a reason not to throw the baby out with the bath water.'
So yesterday when I went into meet with my manager I had several thoughts swirling about in my mind...
'I'd love to just say - I quit. I'd love to just through in the towel. I'm bored, tired and unstimulated. This isn't for me - good bye.'
Then there was the grounded thought wave ...
'Everything's fine, it's going well, I'm happy with everything. See you in 8 weeks.'
After discussing briefly with Wally the idea of me giving up the only weekend shift I had (one I actually enjoyed but was an all day Sunday shift) I told him that I'd give work another whirl and not think about changing anything until my next meeting in a couple months. I didn't want to be rash and emotional about it.
Wally had left around 7:15am and somewhere between then and 8 am when I left for my first shift before my impending meeting I decided that I was going into that meeting and getting rid of my weekend shift, because I knew that would just simply make me happy.
I realized as I thought about it and got excited that I needed to this before I really started to resent my work. I wouldn't ask for a thing in return, I would just lose the hours.
I was admittedly shocked at my decision. This wasn't like me. It would greatly alter my pay cheque and I had yet to secure another shift, job or possibility. I was simply putting what I knew was right for me (and Wally I think) ahead of any of it.
Also shocking was that I didn't discuss this with Wally ahead. We always talk about stuff like this, big or small first to make sure we're on the same page. I was going on a hunch that this wasn't just me being selfish but that I was being led to make this decision.
When the time came I entered my manager's office. It was 10:30am, I had already had a couple of great chats with co workers before the meeting and felt good about my decision. That is until I got some news ...
First order of business. I was notified that the shift that fulfilled my aspirations and gave me an element of 'you're good at what you do', the only one really that I felt absolutely great in every way about (probably because I had to advocate my ass off for the person and got to ruffle a feather or two and I love that!!), was being taken away and given to a full time staff that needed the hours due to the passing of another person supported.
There are two things I must mention here: the shift was technically 'temporary' as I was filling it for someone who was in a temporary position that had just gone permanent therefore putting the hours 'up for sale'. And of course a full time person trumps a part time person in their 1 year waiting period (by a mile).
It didn't matter that the fit may not be right (even the person taking the shift asked for something else and apologized to me - even though they absolutely had nothing to apologize for).
I knew all along that the shift wasn't mine, however I was told the chances were high that I would get it as I'd been doing it for a 9 months, learned everything about the person, developed a good re pore, and was one of two of the main go-to people for all of her needs. I did all of her budgeting, many appointments, communication with her day program, and very hard advocating for this person to go on an agency cruise she'd signed herself up for - that really she could barely afford to go on.
I was stunned. In fact I'm sure there's an imprint from the 2 x 4 on my face that I got hit by.
I breathed my way through not crying and as I was being told it was followed up with 'You're a great member of the team (that's like telling someone 'you are a great breather') .... oh, and you'll be training the new staff starting next week.'
I knew that it would be perceived that I was upset about the loss of hours. Seeing as what I would say next, I hoped it was understood that wasn't the case.
I was already nervous about giving up my Sunday shift but this added to the emotion. I hadn't calculated where my hours would be. However at this point I didn't care, I would worry about that later (if at all).
Still reeling from the news I announce my desire for weekends off to be free to be with my husband and for friends and family. I make it clear I want nothing in return.
It was meant with no resistance. Just a few notes jotted down.
Calculations were made to see that I went from 39 hrs one week, 29 hrs the other (a perfect 34 hr schedule average), to 24 hrs and 25 hrs (plus still 2 hrs temporary on top).
Wow. I couldn't believe it. I went from giving up 8 hrs per pay to losing 15 hrs in a matter of a half hour. This wasn't in the plan.
I left the meeting in shock. In shock over my decision to get my weekends back, in shock over what I felt was an injustice done to not only myself and all of the heart I poured into the person I supported's life, but also the injustice done to them. Their other main worker is going on mat leave in a few months thus leaving her with no more advocates (well I'm assuming the future a bit).
I can honestly say I don't give a rip about the hours which at this point will calculate into a much smaller pay cheque, but a bitterness is developing surrounding the agency I am at.
Now as I say this I am well aware I need to nip it in the bud. I am well aware that all agencies are similar in their approach to how the operation works. I am well aware that numbers trump people more often than anyone wants.
That doesn't change the grief I feel over it one bit.
One of my co worker friends who I greatly respect told me Sunday night how much I needed to quit because I was so depressed/disappointed with my work. Or, she suggested go down to 25 hrs a week ...
After I thought on it a bit I decided that perhaps what was happening was all happening to free me up. To let the best things come. To encourage me to stop having to control every twist and turn of my life.
Part of the reason I held onto the Sunday shift was because I was thinking ahead to after we have kids and what would work best. Really I was worrying and solving problems that didn't even exist yet. In doing so I was creating unnecessary problems and great unhappiness for myself now.
That's crazy!!
I now have a much greater sense of freedom to experiment and explore what might be around the corner for me next.
I have known since last June this is what I should be doing but could never bring myself to do it. Well, here I am. Unplanned and unexpected but very present are infinite possibilities...
For the first time ever I am going to consciously try to NOT achieve anything except letting the good stuff find me.
Hopefully it will be exciting to see what opens up ...
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