Waiting for spring

I haven’t written much recently for two reasons; one, because I’ve been terribly busy, with all kinds of engagements, both personal and work-related. I’ve also taken on two part-time contracts that I work on in the evenings. All fun, all by choice, but busy nonetheless. The second reason is that I’ve been sick – for about a week now.  I keep waiting to wake up feeling refreshed, experiencing that bit of relief that tells you that you’re going to get better, and it’s just not coming.  That sense of relief is great, isn’t it?  You remember what it’s like to be healthy and it feels magnificent, and for about 5 minutes you don’t take being healthy for granted. It’s just like waking up from a long winter, walking outside and the smell in the air tells you that spring is on the way.

Ah, spring. Us Canadians are so desperate for it. We are chomping at the bit to get some warm weather, some relief from this painfully long, painfully cold winter.  I look forward to so many hobbies, foods and colours that come with summer.  For example…

The garden fresh box from the Guelph Community Health Centre (you may recognize this one from the popular post, help me eat up my veggies) and shopping at the local markets…

Buying flowers from the mennonites and drying them… (you don’t really have to wait until fall, but for instructions you can check out my post on drying flowers: “a frugal, forgotten fall craft”…)

Antiquing at open-air antique markets like Aberfoyle and going treasure hunting at garage sales and church basement sales, not to mention regular thrift stores (spring cleaning often yields better thrifting outcomes.)  The art-deco bookcase shown below was destined to become mine.  Oh how I’ve missed antiquing and thrifting!

Greenery… When I first took this picture on a rainy hike, it seemed so ordinary. I didn’t bother to post in my overview of the hike, “on the bruce.” Looking at this picture now, it seems extraordinary. The green strikes me as incredibly relieving, almost consolatory. It makes me realize how much I’ve missed it.

Eating fresh herbs, like basil, and turning them into pesto (for the ideas on how to make this orzo salad with pesto and other salads, check out “from fast food to fresh food: livening up the palate with summer herbs“.

…Being able to sit outside on my patio and have a glass of wine. (This pic was taken during a rainstorm, and it still seems so relaxing and appealing.)

…Having my oleander bloom its bright pink, bubble-gum smelling blossoms! It’s managed to stay alive in my apartment all winter. I can’t wait to put it back outside and let it thrive in the warm weather!

It’s really just the tip of the iceberg… I’m look forward to gardening with friends, exploring the arboretum, hiking, wearing cut-off jean shorts, eating gelato at Planet Bean, and so much more.

What are you most looking forward to with the advent of spring?

Kitten in slow motion

A friend of mine shared this video on facebook a couple of days ago and it really touched me. To some people it might just be a cute video; others might be interested in the technology that was used to create it. But for me, I found myself to be quite moved.

Within the two minutes of that short video, here’s what I noticed:

• How extraordinary a simple moment like playing with a kitten in the garden can appear, when given attention
• The slow-motion effect is a lot like being mindful – giving focus to one activity at a time, paying attention to the special qualities of the event, such as the kitten’s movements, the spectacular nature of its body, the joyous nature of the event
• Play is natural state of being. We should make more time for it
• How joyful the kitten is, in its natural state of play
• How beautiful many other moments are in our life, just like this one – beautiful in their simplicity, innocence and naturalness
• I busy I am.  I have not been making time for mindful attention to simple activities that I love – such as playing with Butternut, cooking, hiking, photography, and just being. And I miss it.

Breathing in little moments

Last Friday I had sushi with my dad while in Toronto. We ate while sitting next to another father-daughter pair.  The daughter looked to be about 8 or 9 years old. I could overhear most of their conversation, some of which had to do with making weekend plans together. “We could make a pizza together,” the dad suggested, and explained how they could together prepare a pizza and choose the toppings. He spent some time coming up with various ideas that might be fun ways for them to spend time together. I was touched to see a dad spend his Friday night with his young daughter, enjoying some sushi and thinking earnestly about other activities that might be fun for his daughter.

In my field of work there is a lot of sadness and a lot of awareness and attention on human rights abuses and struggles – sociologically, legally, politically and personally. A great deal of my time is spent thinking about how I can address and work to overcome these challenges in small ways. So it is very good, but often involves an energy that is borne from a sense of injustice, involving anger or indignation.  Even those who don’t work in such a field can probably understand; most of us spend a lot of our time focusing on problems.

That’s why, when I see something beautiful, something touching, I breathe it in. I savour it. Seeing human kindness is one of the things that touches me the most. Whatever challenges that little girl has in her life, she will remember Friday night sushi dinners with her dad, making pizzas together and other weekend activities. She will have grown up with a dad who wanted to spend time with her. Those little moments will probably provide retrospective joy when she is an adult.

It’s so important that we capture and relish small moments of beauty and compassion in our lives. It’s what makes life so rich.

On the Bruce

I hope that all of my Canadian readers enjoyed a relaxing long weekend. I spent a good portion of my weekend in one of my favourite places in the whole world: the Bruce trail. I live too far away for a weekend jaunt up to its prime region (the Georgian Bay escarpment) but I did two day trips on the trail in the Halton Hills area instead.

Day one was especially wonderful. I went with my dad. We hiked for 5 hours, and only ran in to one person – an older gentleman who was doing some geocaching along with his friendly canine companion. The day was wet and rainy, which turned out to be perfect; it kept the temperature cool, and we got to enjoy sensory treats like smelling that fresh “rain” smell and listening to the rain drops land gently on the leafy canopy above us.  My second hike was with friends; we went to a more popular spot and bounced back and forth between the Bruce trail and side trails.  This route was easier and took us about 4 hours to complete.

On our hike today we passed a small boy who was with his Mom and Dad. The boy was looking at a caterpillar. The Dad asked the son, “what do you think it’s going to turn into? What do you think that caterpillar is going to become?” My heart melted. I love seeing children outdoors, learning about nature, learning to respect small creatures, learning to treat the world with gentleness.

Whenever I take time to go on a hike or spend time in nature, I’m always humbled by how much there is to see and how much there is to learn.  We Canadians (and Americans) are lucky enough to live in countries with huge, vaulting vastness. The Bruce trail alone is 700 km long.  If solitude is what you’re looking for, you can find it. If you crave self-reflection, the trail provides a perfect opportunity to get reacquainted with yourself.  If you are seeking curiosities or enjoy discovering new worlds, all it takes is a little patience to reveal the magnificent, private world of insects and plants, not to mention birds and other wildlife.

Furthermore, hiking is such a great form of exercise. It’s load-bearing, which means that it’s good for your bones, but it’s fun; no need to stare into space or into a TV blaring the news while jogging on a treadmill at the gym. Hiking creates opportunities for you to stay mentally engaged while strengthening your muscles and getting a good cardio-vascular workout.

What occurs to me is that everything I wrote above is free, save for a little gas in the car and good footwear. Pack a homemade lunch and you’re off.  The Bruce trail parking lots are all free. If you go to a conservation area you can expect to pay a bit more – usually between $4 and $6 a person – still not excessive.

When we get in touch with nature, we can gain a little perspective.  Like stargazing, hiking is a humbling activity; you realize that you are merely one creature out of millions, a tiny speck within massive eco-systems, full of life and mystery.  Suddenly our own problems don’t seem so significant.  It is peaceful, refreshing, enlivening. Most of us crave stress-relief. We crave peace. We seek relief through entertainment, through distractions, through malls, movie theatres, casinos and bars.  We take expensive vacations. We buy stuff. And yet there is so much at our fingertips, for free. So much that nourishes us. Right here, waiting for us.

Are you a lover of the Bruce trail? Do you love to hike? Where do you like to go to spend time in nature?

Spring is on its way…

Three strategies for a greener, simpler, happier holiday

Revisiting a bustling mall makes me think about the environmental impact of holiday shopping but it also makes me think about human resources that are eaten up by excessive shopping. (And I say “excessive” because I am in no way an extremist, as you all know.) On this blog, a message I hear repeatedly from my readers is how important friends, families and pets are to our happiness and well-being.  Spending time with the people we care about is obviously a crucial component to our happiness and, without a doubt, the best frugal luxury there is.  In a busy world, time with others, and time alone, has become a valuable commodity. Wouldn’t it make more sense to spend less time shopping and more time just being?

In Amber’s post, she asks, “What green holiday traditions are you adopting?” Well, I have a few strategies to reduce environmental and financial costs, and make the holidays more meaningful and special to me:

1. Doin’ it DIY. I love making homemade gifts and homemade cards. There is nothing quite like crafting something that is tailor-made and perfectly suited to the recipient.  Seeing them actually use or consume the gift offers a particular thrill.

*homemade treats*

2. Innovative Packaging. Gifts become instantly more environmentally friendly when you package them yourself, especially when you use what you’ve already got around the house – think reusable glass mason jars, wire or wicker baskets, vintage tins, or – my favourite – “repurposed junk”. (Remember the tea box I made? You can find a tutorial I wrote on how to do it at Organizing Junkie.)

*once a tea box, now a gift box*

2. Thrift. I must admit, I owe a lot to Shopping GoLightly at The Thrifty Chicks.  This woman has opened my eyes to a whole new world.  And although I know that I’m preaching to the converted, I must just reiterate that thrift stores are not just full of fondue sets, massaging foot baths and harlequin romance novels.  You can find great vintage pieces for collectors, one-of-a-kind items and plenty of brand spanking new in-the-box items, sometimes with the tags still on.  You get to decide whether your favourite part of thrifting is that it is environmentally friendly, saving you gobs of money, supporting local charities, or providing you with the thrill of the hunt.

*a vintage find for my table – pretty, embroidered napkins*

Shopping GoLightly also reminds us that to be known and understood is the true gift – in this post, Ms. GoLightly responds to a comment I made on her blog, and reminds me (and all of us) that a gift, whether homemade, thrifted, or bought retail, means the most when it is meant to enhance a person’s authentic self:

The act of taking time to truly listen to me, observe me and truly know me is, in essence the gift, not necessarily the object. That’s the part that sets tears in my eyes. To feel, in this wide world, there is someone who has taken the time to truly know me and wants me to continue on as myself and not be swayed.

*life in the beach, last December; expectations for a different kind of year ahead*

Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving to all of my readers who happen to celebrate this holiday.  I was inspired to read the post, Thank You on Gail Vaz-Oxlade’s blog today. I’ve always believed that being grateful for what you have and being cognizant of all the little ways in which we are blessed, are important steps to having a happy life.  And while I’ve often mentioned that being mindful and grateful is important for those living on a budget (because it’s too easy to feel deprived by focusing on what you don’t have,) it’s just as important for those who have everything.  After all, it’s easy for all of us to forget about how lucky we are, go on auto-pilot, and focus on everything that seems to be going wrong in our lives.

Making time to take pleasure in simple moments and focus on the abundance around us is a wonderful practice, one that has been my main focus since my break-up with my partner.  But it’s easy to diverge from this plan, the more busy we get. It’s obvious to me now that there are triggers that cause me to fall off track from being grateful and mindful.  Comparing myself to others, focusing on what other people have, and thinking about where I thought I would be (as opposed to where I am) can quickly divert my focus and change my mood.  Conversely, practicing mindfulness and gratitude make me feel present, empowered and fulfilled.  The key, I think, is not to wait until we feel that life has given us exactly what we want.  The key is to seek out beauty, kindness and moments of peace even amidst chaos, and practice gratitude for tiny instances which ordinarily go unnoticed, like our breath, the air, the fact that the sun rose and the sky didn’t fall.  A cup of coffee, a green traffic light, the sound of a friend’s voice: big or small, these little moments make up our lives.  In fact, when you start paying attention, it seems that there hundreds or even thousands of little miracles that happen every day, which may be worth some quiet celebration.

What are you grateful for today?

Fields of gold

Nothing, I believe, captures the essence of life’s beauty, wisdom and enchantment, quite like nature. When I was a little girl, I spent quite a bit of time on my nana’s farm, traipsing through the woods, building forts and rafts and playing in the gully with my sister and my cousin.  In the fall, my favourite time to explore, I loved the hearing the crunch of the harvested soybean fields under my feet, climbing on top of hay bails, and admiring the colours of the surrounding trees. Spending time in the country at an early age meant that as an adult, I’ve been able to respect and appreciate the secrets that can be found in a fall day, a field or forest. It’s a great gift.

This weekend we were blessed with some of the early-fall weather one hopes for on labour day weekend.  Warm sun, low humidity.  Gentle breezes. Evenings cool enough to demand a sweater and a pair of jeans, days warm enough to do, well, just about anything you feel like.

My nana’s farm has just been sold, and this weekend I went out one last time to explore. I was accompanied by both my parents. We spent our time collecting wild elderberries for a pie, and my mom helped me pull together a nice collection of wild flowers, which I will experiment with, by drying.

We collected enough elderberries for at least 2 pies, which we will make for Thanksgiving. To preserve them, we picked off all the berries from the stems, placed them in an air-tight plastic bag along with a paper towel to absorb any moisture, and froze them.

This weekend we were also blessed with the opportunity to see some wildlife.  While we were eating dinner one evening, we looked out the window and saw a beautiful hawk, sitting at the feeder.  He wasn’t feasting on bird seed, but was eyeing a much more satisfying treat – the plump, naughty chipmunks who like to gorge themselves on, well, everything in the feeder.  

Earlier that day, as my Mom and I sat outside, reading magazines in the sun, a hummingbird buzzed between us, circling around my Mom’s head. I’d never seen a hummingbird that close-up before, and hearing its little wings whirr like a piece of machinery was a true treat.

At the farm, I also discovered a black and yellow garden spider, an orbweaver apparently common to this part of Ontario and frequently found around this time of year. It loves goldenrod, and a big patch of goldenrod is exactly where I found it.  Normally, I am deathly afraid of spiders, but somehow this majestic insect captured my attention in an awe-inspiring, rather than panic-inducing, way. Its colours, interesting web, and unique shape and size, are actually quite beautiful and fascinating.

What many of us are seeking in our lives can really be found quite easily, quite simply.  It’s easy to always want something more – a luxury vacation, new clothes, more stuff. But truly, we make life more difficult than it really needs to be. A lot of peace and fulfillment can be found in a field of goldenrod, an elderberry bush, and even, if our hearts are open enough, a spider web.

Reflections on abundance

After a wonderful trip to Newfoundland, I returned to my apartment with a heavy heart. Unsurprisingly, I am profoundly aware that someone is missing, and I would be lying if I pretended that I am not full of sadness over this loss.  I’ve also realized, though, that a lot of people are going through challenges right now.  The recession has meant that people who have worked long and hard, who have made sensible financial decisions and have attempted to mitigate risk well, are still in troubling circumstances.  And tough economic times strain our relationships, too.  I know I’m not the only one who is facing a difficult time and who is rethinking the future, or questioning the past. The best we can do is to accept that life is not straight-forward; there is no clear cut path to so-called success.  We can do our best to work hard and make good decisions, but rarely does the future appear just as we’ve planned. This is, it seems, both a hard lesson to learn and a fact of life.

I try to stay focused on the present as best I can, and recognize the impermanence of this moment. Life is changing – it changes constantly.  Things we take for granted become but memories, and angst we feel disappears into something new.

I am not trying to stop myself from feeling sadness, but rather I am seeking an opportunity to simultaneously discover abundance. Abundance means, to me, appreciating the brilliance and wonder of our surroundings. Smells, sights, textures, tastes.  Kindness, innocence, forgiveness, authenticity. Diversity, opportunity, freedom, surprise. I think the quest to seek abundance in our lives is a good one to have, particularly during difficult financial times. Instead of seeking a new car, TV or wardrobe to make us feel successful, sexy, or happy, we may come to realize that we are quite capable of experiencing life’s riches without spending a dime.

My trip to Newfoundland was a perfect exploration of all these things. Newfoundland is a place where people epitomize genuineness and random acts of kindness are performed on a daily, if not hourly basis.  A sense of community can be found anywhere, and is extended to outsiders throughout a willingness to share and be open. Most people treated us as though we’d long been best friends.

The land is vast, wild and free.  It’s so wild and raw in some parts it borders on awe-inspiring, almost frightening, untamed wildness.  And yet it produces such a strange juxtoposition of gentle beauty, its wild flowers growing with determination out of a rocky, unforgiving land.  The weather is full of surprises; an early morning of rain and bone-chilling winds quickly turn into a warm and hospitable summer day.  Moose, bald eagles, jelly fish and friendly whales crop up without warning, revealing too the unpredictability of nature, frequently repaying those who pay it respect with the currency of patience.  

The rugged land has charged its inhabitants with years of incomprehensible sacrifice, pain and hard work - drudgery - in return for survival. The pain that its early inhabitants endured only serves to remind me that suffering has always been a part of the universal human condition; that countless people before me have invested much, much more into stakes that never came to fruition, that disappointment and loneliness have accompanied every soul that has ever lived.

And so, a few pictures to share (some of my favourites)

Wild Iris, covered in dew drops on the coast of Cape Spear

Black Horse beer, consumed in St. John’s.

Old fishing shed on the water at Trinity.

Lilacs and a white picket fence at a home in Trinity. (Can’t you just smell them?)

Baby beluga whale near Princeton. I took this picture from the side of the boat as he frolicked and played with us.

Wild flowers on Walker’s Trail in Tickle Cove.

Dock in Trinity

Basement window of a home in Trinity

Puffins, seemingly having a bit of a chat, at the Witless Bay Ecological Reserve

Lobster traps in Trinity

Buttercups against the peeling paint of a house in Trinity

I have many more favourites that will be making their appearance on flickr soon.

Enjoy whatever abundance is in your life today!