summertime

Mid-summer. All the activities of paring down (the yard sale earlier this month) and relaxing (the Home County Folk Festival, visiting some wineries in the Niagara region) are just the thing for our short time with summer.

When I consider complaining about the heat (it was 33 degrees C. today), I just have to look back at some of the photos of the winter--and this winter was particularly "challenging" in terms of the amount/frequency of snow!! I like winter for a couple of weeks, when the snow is white and crispy. But longer than that, and I'm ready to consider moving to some climate where winter and snow don't drag on.

So the summer heat is refreshing and delightful as I watch my garden unfold in various blooms. The dog lies down beside the pond, cooling his belly on the flagstones. I make sure the bird feeders are topped up, the fountains continuing to burble...and relax in the fragrant warmth of summertime. Too short...

Enrichment

Thinking of a word that somehow brings to light the feeling of more than being happy, of being “enriched” in the way one feels waking up from the best night’s sleep, in a beautiful room, with the light just so—and no bills to pay, no pressing engagements of the day. Waking up to the aroma of coffee.

I spend my life walking around this word, this concept.

perfection is in the eye of the beholder

Walking the dog this morning (a cool Sunday, nice change from the heat/humidity last week) and I, of course, am snooping other people's gardens--at least those gardens that are visible from the sidewalk. Several gardens on my usual route are wonderful: peonies and irises in full bloom with candy-pink and royal purple flowers, along with other pretty plants (although somewhat less spectacularly sized). These gardens are immaculate, with neatly mowed lawns, swept and clean patios, flower beds with tidy borders.

The first emotion, after the bliss of such beauty, is anxiety. I consider my own chaotic gardens and worry that the lack of order somehow reflects badly on me as a gardener. However it doesn't take long to realize that my gardens are fine the way they are; the untidiness is really just an expression of joy at the ability of flowers to bloom, birds to come and fish to dash around in the pond that manages to remain the best part of the garden despite the maple keys that shower into it and a fountain that sometimes sputters to a stop, clogged with debris. The lawn is lumpy, the grass is a bit long, the borders of my flower beds uneven and there are weeds.

But when I'm in my backyard,  I'm happy. No comparisons with those gorgeous gardens on my walk. It's the perfect place to be.

listen to the little voice in your head

I went to the Southwest Local Health Integration Network (LHIN) first Quality Symposium on Thursday (torrential rains, high winds to drive through on the way to Stratford) & was impressed by the themes presented by a number of the speakers--including the provincial Minister of Health, the Honourable Deb Matthews, PhD (her background is demographics, how appropriate!). The "end-note" speaker was Steven Lewis (not to be confused with Stephen Lewis, who would have been equally at home there). But the messages of how to maintain universal healthcare in the face of the increasingly elderly demographic with multiple chronic health issues were reminders of that little voice in my head.

I am the Participaction generation, with medals to prove my ability, as a 10 year old, to be supremely (well, okay, reasonably) fit. But it got me into running, cycling and other activities that have remained part of my life--even if sometimes taking second or third place to other things, like having children and working/going to school.

As a wound care specialist, I have seen the effects of sedentary lifestyle, eating junk food,  high salt consumption, diet pop instead of water or milk, and cigarette smoking. I have patients with diabetes, high blood pressure, lousy circulation, sore joints (ankles, knees, hips) and sometimes joint replacements or other "corrective" surgeries. The majority of these individuals are overweight. And not by just 10 pounds or so, but what we politely call, "morbidly obese". Obesity is an epidemic, we all know, and it's not getting any better.

I look around and think, it's not that hard. When that little voice in your head says, "You don't really need to eat that" or " How about parking the car a block further so you can get some exercise" or " Yeah, that cough IS from smoking. You do need to quit before it kills you". It's time to say "YES, you're right!"

Last year, I listened to the little voice. I lost about 40 pounds, started to exercise (aquafit, yoga, cycling--things I enjoy) and WOW!! How much better do I feel? A million times better. I don't plan to be in that chronic illness demographic as I get older.

Do you?

Having A Space of One's Own

I remember reading Virginia Woolf's "A Room of One's Own" when I was about twenty & considering how important it was to make sure I had my own space. At the time, it seemed easy to do: the extra bedroom would be my "workroom", with the long table, the sewing machine, art, fabric, photos, drawings. The window looking out over the garden...

Years went by and the space somehow disappeared. Children needed bedrooms, toys and books, musical instruments, their art, their imaginative jumble, took over everywhere, and my "space" became smaller and smaller.

There was always an office (and at home, a desk carved out in a corner), but the idea of "space", where creativity was more the focus, was elusive.

Now I find that I am once again in a position to claim "space" for myself. It feels a bit strange, like an almost forgotten memory of something I once did... this won't be the same space as anything I had before, and I feel much more tentative about the creative part of it. But I suspect I will begin to enjoy this place.

A new space. Arms outstretched, I feel the fluttering of ideas.

Do as I say, not as I do.

Yesterday I was vehemently encouraging patients to eat their lunch. My goal was to promote wound healing; and nutrition plays a huge role in providing the energy the body requires to heal. I always tell people that wounds need three things to heal: get rid of the cause (often pressure related), give the body optimal nutrition and last, consider the dressing.
So I spend a lot of time encouraging people to eat.
Yesterday at about 3 o'clock, I was running around the hospital, feeling tired and headachy. Hmm... did I have lunch? Uh, no. How often do I miss lunch because I'm too busy? Hmm...more than I should.

So, telling other people to do things is easy. Sometimes telling yourself the same thing--and following through--is hard!
I had lunch today, though.

The Black Dog of Happiness

Pets are the best. Patients faces light up when their pet comes in to visit--granted, these have to be arranged in advance, the pet has to be "vetted" (ha ha) and have a better health inspection than most of us. But imagine how nice it feels to have that companion with the warm, moist nose and friendly eyes, lying beside you on the bed.