s a r a h c a s m

I consider myself a creative person.  There have been times in my life when I haven’t had an outlet for my creativity, but lately that hasn’t been the case.  It hasn’t been the case for years.  I write.  I take photos.  I sew.  Yeah, I sew… I mean, I can sew.  But, I don’t like to. At all.

When Q was a baby, he drooled a LOT.  I designed special bibs for him and he wore them around the clock.  All day.  Everyday.  I loved them and he never seemed to mind them.  They kept him dry and everyone was happy.

Soon my friends started asking about them and I eventually started taking orders for baby showers and Q’s friends.  It was really cool that people saw worth in something I had created – from scratch.  My brother built me a website with eCommerce and orders came in.  A lot of thought had gone into them and I appreciated the recognition.

However.

I didn’t like making them.  I didn’t enjoy the process.  It was time-consuming and I was on maternity leave and wanted to spend time with Q.

Eventually, I went back to work and it all fell by the wayside.  But, I didn’t forget about them.  I still make them for friends and family on occasion.

It nags at me, though – something in me wants me to make it work.  To make it happen.  To suck it up and look at the process as a means to an end.  Maybe I could learn to love it.  Maybe.

I’m torn.  I am sitting on this great product – a product of my creation.  Sitting.  I feel like I am wasting it, but I am unsure what to do with it.

So, my trusted friends.  What would you do? What do you think I should do?

Today, I went to the waterfront.  Alone.  Armed with my coffee, my camera, and a good book, I set out for a peaceful couple of hours.  As I neared the water, something wasn’t quite right.  There were people there!  Hordes of people.  As I slowly drove along the road to my secret parking spot, I felt disappointment (with a side of mild resentment).  Here I was ready for a peaceful visit to my coveted water only to find I had to share it.

I parked my car, gathered all my necessities and headed toward my spot, hoping that no one was there.  I hoped I could find a bench overlooking the waterbreak and the rocky shore.  Being that my spot was on the fringes of the path, I was able to snag it.

As I sat there nursing my coffee and half-reading my book, I started to pay more attention to my surroundings.  The father throwing rocks into the lake with his daughter.  The older couple parking their bicycles while chatting about the latest happenings of a TV show.  The woman walking her dog along the waves,  it occasionally jumping in and splashing her.  I noticed the robin tentatively approaching me in search of a worm.  The many sailboats on the horizon and the motorboats sailing past them.  I wanted to be on a boat.  Any boat.

I soaked it in, shaking my initial territorial reaction and its accompanying resentment.  I closed my book, chugged my almost-cold coffee, and pulled out my camera.  I don’t fancy myself a photographer.  I like taking pictures, but truth be told, I have no clue what I’m doing.  Nonetheless, I set out on a quest to capture the moments.  There is something about having a camera on hand that makes me more aware of the little things.  The things I usually take for granted.  The beauty in the mundane.

A brave bird.

The view from my bench

The texture of the bark of a tree many years my senior.

As people whizzed past me on their bicycles, inline skates, scooters, and sneakers, I couldn’t help thinking that they were missing out.  That if only they’d stop for a minute, they’d see – and maybe, just maybe, appreciate the world around them.   They had other things on their minds, I’m sure.  Places to go, times to beat, heart rates to raise.

When I stop.  When I look.  When I listen, everything becomes so much clearer.  The moments seem to last longer.  It is apparent to me that I need to do this more often.  I need to check out of my head and truly observe.  Truly be aware.  And, truly appreciate the world in which I live.

How do you connect to the world around you?  How do you capture moments?

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More moments, captured. sarahcasm’s Flickr

I love this.  So simple and gentle and lovely.

Some of the giraffe spots look like hearts.

Yes! Yes! I will marry you!

Usually (hopefully) that follows a proposal.  A couple becomes engaged, sets a date for the wedding, and then spends the next several months in blissful agony planning the best day of their lives – the wedding of their dreams!  So romantic.  At least, that’s what I’ve heard.  I am not married.

Technically, I am engaged.  Mr. T and I have been engaged for going on 4 years.  It’s a technicality, though.  There is no wedding in sight.  No venue.  No decorator.  No registry.  No flowers.  No dress.  No anticipation.  No desire.  None of it.  Just thinking about a wedding exhausts me – and the cost? No, thank you.

Here’s my secret.  I don’t really want a wedding.  Truth be told, I don’t feel the need for a legal, formal marriage or the paper that comes with it.  I have always shied away from convention.  Generally, I don’t like to do what I am supposed to do or what is expected of me just for the sake of it.

Hence, unmarried and quite happy about it!

I wasn’t that little girl who dreamed of her wedding day.  I don’t recall ever thinking about it – never planning it or fantasizing about it.  It just didn’t occupy my thoughts.

I don’t believe that having a wedding and being married will strengthen our relationship.  We publicly profess our love and commitment to each other everyday.  We live together, file taxes together, raise our son together, own a house together, pay our bills together, vacation together (wait, what’s that?).  We share our lives with one another.  We share everything with one another.

We know that neither of us is going anywhere.  In the eyes of the law, we are each other’s spouse.  He calls me his wife.  Sometimes, I call him my hubs. I wish we had more fitting titles.  Titles with the strength of husband and wife without the assumption of marriage.  It bothers me that there is no title that honours the depth of our relationship.

Right now, I can’t find a really good reason to have a wedding.  At this point in our lives and our relationship, I don’t see how it would enhance anything.

For now instead of living in yes, we are living in maybe someday.  Not right now.

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This post is my final installment for Momalom’s Five for Ten. The topic is Yes!

I got a lust for life
Yeah a lust for life
I got a lust for life
A lust for life
Iggy Pop

I love my car.  I know that’s not very green of me, but I can’t help it.  It is my lifeline.   I am a pick-up-and-go kind of person.  A day-tripper.  All I need is a tank of gas and an excuse.  I will easily drive 2 hours (each way) to have afternoon coffee with a friend.

I got my car when it only had 3 kms on it.  Brand-spankin-new. Over the past 6 years (and over 150 000 kms), we have shared many an adventure.  It lets me be spontaneous. It lets me express my enthusiasm for life – to explore the world around me and connect with people.

My grandpa once said don’t scrimp on gas; that is what connects you to those you love.   That has stuck with me.  Time spent with loved ones is more important than money spent at the pump.  Life can be fleeting.  No one really knows what tomorrow holds, so I like to grasp those moments, make those moments, and take advantage of the opportunities to see those I love as often as possible.

The other day, on one such day-trip, I rediscovered this song by Snow.  Yes, that Snow.  Go ahead.  Laugh.  I’ll wait.   I cranked it, belted it, and rode the high it gave me for the rest of the day.  I only have to think about it to bring a smile to my face.

Enjoy.

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This post is my fourth installment for Momalom’s Five for Ten. The topic is Lust

Memories.  Some memories are comforting, while others evoke a visceral reaction.  Everything I know, everything I feel, and everything I believe at this very moment is linked to a memory.

Memories are powerful.  We replay some and repress some.  We try to forget some, while desperately trying to hold onto others.

Good or bad, experiences turn into memories and they shape us – our growth, our attitudes, our behaviour.  Who we love.  What we love.  Why we love who we love… all boils down to memory.

As I’ve been thinking about memories, so many have flooded into the forefront of my mind.  Childhood memories, high school memories, memories of travels and multiple moves.

When I think back on the times in my life and access my memories, I realize that every phase was the best of times and the worst of times (a la The Tale of Two Cities).   I hold on fiercely to the best of times, although I know that the worst of times has shaped me beyond measure.  I accept that.  I know that.  I visit those memories and evaluate how they affect me – how the experience that created them influenced who I am at this very moment.

The other day, I was jarred by picture that triggered a memory.  Not a happy memory.  Not a memory I ever choose to recollect.  Yet, there it was staring me in the face – tempting me to give it power and affect my mood and my state of mind.  I did and it did.

It amazes me that something so intangible, something contained in only my mind has so much power.  No one shares this memory with me; it is of my own creation – a product of an experience.  Those who shared that experience created their own memory of it, which has affected them in different ways (or not at all).

Memories are tricky because they are solely our creation, yet they wield so much power and influence everything we believe.  Amazing.  Scary.

Every time we remember, we judge ourselves again, we are guilty again, and we punish ourselves again, and again, and again. – don Miguel Ruiz, The Four Agreements

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This post is my third installment for Momalom’s Five for Ten. The topic is Memory

I have been struggling to write about happiness.  Everything I come up with sounds so trite and simplistic.  And… I can’t get Happiness is a Warm Gun by the Beatles out of my head, which is not exactly the inspiration I was seeking.

After struggling for days to craft something inspiring, I started to wonder what the problem was.  What was holding me back and why is it so hard for me to write about happiness? I am a happy person!  Then it occurred to me that maybe that’s why I am having difficulty;  I don’t want to flaunt my happiness.  I don’t want to say Look at me! My life is awesome.  I have no complaints. Why?  I don’t think people want to hear that; people are struggling in their lives – they are unhappy and stressed and sad and lonely and in trouble.

Truth be told, I have reason to be all of those things, too.  But for me, it’s about perspective.  I have more reason to be happy than not and I choose to focus on that; it’s a conscious, active effort in my everyday.  I have the power to choose a happy perspective in my everyday life.

It’s not easy and I haven’t always done it.  I once was the bitter, resentful person who refused to let go of a grudge – weighing myself down with self-pity and projecting my pain onto other people in a futile attempt to protect myself from more pain.  That didn’t work for me.  Happiness provides me with more of a shield than any armour could.

I do my best not to complain – I look at the rain and appreciate the life it brings.  I look at the weeds and appreciate their perseverance.  It’s a choice and it is so liberating.  I haven’t mastered it – far from it.  But, I am getting there and am pleased that my happy moments outnumber my unhappy ones.

Sometimes, I need reminders to shift my perspective; they wait for me to notice them – in my son, in flowers, in bubbles, in photographs, in raindrops on a leaf, in music, in a little smile, or in a clever quote.

My life is happiness.  I don’t have to find it, I just need to chip away at the unhappiness and stress and let it in.  Let it take over.

I am a happy person.  I have moments of unhappiness, but I can’t complain about my life.  It is truly awesome and I am beyond blessed.

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This post is my second installment for Momalom’s Five for Ten. The topic is Happiness

From May 10 – 19, I will be participating in Momalom‘s Five for Ten.  The next ten days will provide  an opportunity for bloggers to connect in a meaningful way by writing about the same topics and having discussions across a number of blogs.

I am really excited to participate (and you can too; just click the button for more details).  Courage is the first of five topics and I have written a Letter to Q.

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Dear Q,

Have the courage of your convictions. Remember that what you know to be true is more important than what you have been taught to believe.  Know your worth and have the courage to trust it.

This world will try to convince you of your inadequacy.  It will condition you to respond to and crave praise, validation, and recognition.   It wants you to conform to its expectations because that makes you more predictable and manageable.  It wields incredible power and seeks control.

You are powerful beyond measure.  You have the power of your self, your mind, and your feelings.  You have power over your reactions, your choices, and your expectations.

This world I know will teach you to believe that you need others to prove your worth and that you need others to define your success.  You hold that power.  You define your success; your worth is intrinsic.

Don’t be afraid of rejection.  It’s subjective and relative and never about you.  Choose courage.  Put yourself out there; follow your passions, your dreams and your heart.  Believe in the power of you and have the courage to be your best.

In Illusions, Richard Bach wrote “I am tired of clinging.  Though I cannot see it with my eyes, I trust that the current knows where it is going.”

What you are clinging to?  Why are you clinging?  Why are you afraid to let go?  Trust the current, for the current is your immeasurable power.  It will take you to your true desire if you have the courage to let it.  It will set you free if you believe in it.  It will give you peace if you release yourself from the fear of rejection.

Choose courage and allow your self the freedom to be.

Love always,
Mom

I love dandelions.  They are awe-inspiring.  I know I am supposed to think they are ugly and annoying, but I don’t.

The reasons I love them are the same reasons most people don’t  – they are persistent.  They persevere.  They multiply.  They spread.

Yellow dandelions are pretty – the colour is so rich and full of life!  They are a sign of warmer weather and of growth and of spring.  But, white dandelions? They are my favourite – in them lies so much potential for new life.  They are designed to be carried by the wind and grow wherever they land.  They never die; one dandelion turns into countless dandelions!  And those countless dandelions turn into countless more.  The connectedness of it all amazes me.

There is something magical about an organism that can persevere – weeds and bugs.  They defy us, which brings a smile to my face and a little satisfaction to my heart.

I hope Q is a little like a dandelion – not caring what people think about him and defying the standards of beauty.  I want him to express his potential and persevere when people think he is worthless, or ugly, or inconvenient.  I want him to be persistent and show that he belongs in this world and that he ain’t goin’ nowhere no matter what adversity he may face.

I wish to be as brave as a dandelion.  As defiant.  So sure of my beauty that I feel free to express it and spread it shamelessly.

A dandelion never really dies… it gets carried in the wind and grows wherever it lands.

Edited:  After I posted this, the wind picked up and carried away all the little seeds from the flower in the picture (above). Destination: unknown.

I am a why person. I guess I never out-grew that as a child.  Maybe it was because my parents never discouraged why, why, why? In fact, they encouraged it.  When we were old enough to read, my parents told us to “look it up,” which led to a love of reading (and stacks of encyclopedias in our bedrooms that served as bedtime stories).

I think that as adults, our focus shifts from why to how.

We feel the need to fix things and improve situations but don’t fully examine why the situation exists in the first place.  I like to strip problems down to their cores – that is how I operate in my personal and professional lives.  If you ask why enough times, eventually you get to the root of the problem.  Often though, the root is so hard to fix and we’d rather bury it in band-aids.

I have noticed this more since I’ve become a mother.  There are so many people telling us how, but so few telling us why.  We get so preoccupied with how to parent, we forget why we parent.

Why do we parent?

When I step back and think about why I parent, I do a better job.  I listen better.  I hear better.  I show more respect.  I am more patient.

My son depends on us for so many things, but he is not ours.  He is not a possession or a toy or an experiment.  He is a human being.  Just like me.  He deserves the same amount of respect that I would offer any adult.  If he is tired, he sleeps.  If he is hungry, he eats.  If he is crying, he is comforted.

I parent because I am responsible for him, his life, his happiness, his sense of security, his sense of worth, his safety, his well-being.
I parent because I want my son to treat others with kindness and respect.
I parent because maybe, just maybe, through him I can add something of value to this world I know.  I can know that I have made every effort through him to make this world a better place – just by him being a part of it.

There are so many people who are quick to tell me how to parent – what I should be doing and the right way to do it.  I am not really interested.  I don’t dwell on sleep schedules and eating routines – he knows his needs and he will make them known.   He is the expert on him.  I will trust his instincts as well as my own.

No, I want to focus my energy on teaching him, doing things with him, and just being with him.

Once I figure out the why, the how will follow.

Why do you parent?