One step forward, two steps back...

Sometimes it feels like I'm taking one step forward, but then two steps back. As if life is one big game, a gamble and sometimes it tricks you in to thinking you're on a good path, but then you get pulled backwards and you're further behind than when you started. I wonder why life is like that? Is it to teach you a lesson, to make you go over your steps again, to retrace your path and make you aware of where you planted your feet so that you can make a more informed decision about where you are headed? Or is it because you yourself is afraid of what lies ahead and it seems safer to return to where you started, rather than take another unknown step towards something new?
I think for me, it's a bit of both. I am afraid of the unknown path that lies ahead of me and I feel safer taking a step back to the known and safe, but I also wonder if sometimes, the Universe is giving me a second chance to make sure I've made the right decision. 9 out of 10 times, I'm good. I know I've made the right one and I retrace my steps to get to where I went backwards instead of forward. Then I take a new step in to the unknown. I do feel that sometimes, when I'm thrown backwards, that my path takes me down a new road, one never before travelled and it is a better one. Regardless of how I get back to where I started from, I have to remember that I do get back. That I don't keep taking step after step backwards, but I move forward.

Breathing

It's rough to find yourself in a situation that calls for change, massive change. Here I am at 33 thinking I have what everyone should want in life. A good job, a house, a great husband and best friend, a daughter that makes me smile and fills my heart with joy...not in any particular order. Yet, I am not happy. I feel a sense of loss of personal sense. As if who I am, truly am, has been lost along my travels through the past decade and I have accepted the titles that people and society have placed upon me as a mother, wife, assistant, friend, collegue etc...but who is this Ida? Do I truly know? So, my quest has begun and with it I leave in my path confusion, anger, let downs but also new found courage, hope and longing. Weeding through my life's worth and my future crossroads, this will hopefully gain some insight to whom I really am, not what. I am breathing and so are those around me, I lean on them as they lean on me and in my most dark moments, they are my light and the paths I choose will have to be walked alone at times, and at others, I will need to be led by hand or sometimes even carried.

Time

I am a monthly blogger. My intentions are nobel, but time, as of late, is not on my side. Having all the time in the world it seems at the beginning of the month, or even the week...it's not until I am in the middle of it pondering where the time went...did I blink and the world passed by without my knowledge? Not quite, I was knee deep in juggling family, work and friends and of course ME time. So important but so easily and quickly forgotten and left on the sideline.
We're already halfway through the summer...yaya...not quite, but just blink and it will be mid-august. So, can we slow down the time and breathe more deeply? I think so, it's all about priorities and not making excuses for what's important. To remember that the coffee break you planned on taking with a friend, although it seems like a big deal, is after all going to be the most important 15 minutes of your day. That the bus ride home doesn't have to be a waste of time, and instead, that's the ME time I've longed for, to sit and read my book and let the world go by outside the window. The moments stuck in traffic can be better spent at home is true, but crank up the volume on the stereo and tap the steering wheel with your thumb and hum along to your favourite track...it's worth it...destressing is equally important and by the time traffic lets up, you'll be in a better space and your family will thank you for it.
Of course doing all this takes practice and goes against my every instinct and the person I am so used to being...impatient, stubborn, temperamental...but if I just take a second, I will ultimately see that I am better off not yelling at the ignorant driver to my left who almost took my front bumper out because he was in a hurry to get a carlength ahead of me...it's not important.
What's important is my sanity, that I remember that no matter when I walk through that door, life is what's important and those who depend on me will have survived, and the small stuff that I bother with daily, isn't that important on the grand scheme of life...I am important. My life is important. I am living it...the way I want, with minimal stressors and minimal annoyance...but it's not to say that I won't ever provoke a conversation that will lead into a full blown battle, everyone needs to let off some steam sometimes...it's healthy...but perhaps my subjects should be choosen more carefully...and not random people on the other end of the phone unbeknownst of my need to vent. So here's an apology to those that cross my path when I am feeling feisty

A month!

I can't believe it's been a month since I last posted something! Not acceptable for a blogger...but then again, I've been busy writing and starting a business with a friend of mine. It's been a crazy time in my life, but on the most part I am excited about the changes, and although I sometimes face a storm head-on, I am digging my heals in and try desperately to remain calm and levelled heaeded. Changes frighten me, and I believe that if they didn't, we are not true to them. Changes are an important part of life and it's not always something we can understand or make others understand. When life throws you a bone, grab it! but the consequences may not always suit everyone around you. I believe that you are stronger for doing what makes you feel good, and what makes you grow as a person, rather than putting your head down and not following your "aha!" - moment. What's important to remember, is staying true to yourself. Not looking to replace something, or someone but to find a path that's only for you. I find it difficult sometimes to see the path that's just mine. It's so full of other people's footprints that has gone before me, and who are currently walking beside me, behind me or infront of me. It sometimes gets really muddy, and I loose sight of my own path as it merges with the paths of others.

As a mother I think it's even more difficult to follow your own path that has been laid out for you. You instinctively want to bend your path to make it that of your child's so as not to distrupt or misguide the choices they make, or make choices for them. And sometimes, even though the path is clear of debris, it still is hard to walk on because what feels right, doesn't always seem right to those watching your progress.

The path I am on now is taking me places I haven't been before. It's bringing back memories long lost, it's showing me a future I don't know how to reach, and a present that's comfortable and known.

I take one step, then another...here we go...

But at my back I always hear

Time's winged chariot hurrying near;

And yonder all before us lie

Deserts of vast eternity.

-Andrew Marvell

A decision made

Progress on the decision front...at least a little bit.

I finally owned up to my feelings regarding city vs. country and faced them head on. I've been trying to create my childhood and forced it on Emma. Not that it's a bad thing, it's a great thing, if it works. I am still torn, but the pro's vs. con's list has shifted and the scale has tipped and showed me what it is that we need and want as a family. Convincing myself was hard, convincing the rest of the family proved to be slightly more difficult, but once the points were spewed on the table, it was obvious that the benefits lay on the city side.

We love this house we found. We loved it the moment we saw it online, and we certainly fell in love with it when we walked through the doors. It wasn't what we had been looking for, not at all. We had been searching for a newer home than what we had, a bungalow preferrably, closer to the city, but not far from friends and family scattered about, no further south than Winchester. The house we bought, and fell in love with back in October 2007 was a two storey brick house, built in 1875 and 10 minutes from the St. Lawrence river (45 minutes south of Ottawa). What were we thinking? It had old floors, a tired old kitchen, a backyard that was in ruins, but with loads of potential and we certainly felt at home. The first night we stayed here, Emma slept through the night without a sound, she'd never done that. It was a sign, a good one. Since then we've demolished the old kitchen to the bare walls and replaced it with a brand new one. We removed the old shower in the downstairs bathroom and made it a laundry room. We beautified the entrance and installed a gorgeous fireplace/woodstove in our living room. Small changes here and there and voila, we have a home we do adore no matter what we try to tell ourselves about it's downfalls. BUT, here's the killer...we live almost an hour from all of our friends and family. It's been wonderful to see that not one of our friends have bat an eyelash when invited to join us out here in the country, and instead they've arrived and stayed until late in the evening despite the long drive. I know I cook well, but I hope it's more than that.

It's wearing on us, our relationship, our lives in general. We spend so much time apart from eachother and especially Emma. When you leave the house at 6:30am and arrive home at 5:30pm it wears you down. I know there are lots of people who do it, even in the city, but I'd rather have 45 minutes on a city bus, reading my book, listening to music or chatting with a friend, than 20 minutes on the bus and 40 minutes in the car, any day.

We've made a decision, we're moving. or at least, we're going to try to move. It's not easy to sell a house in the country, especially one that's 125 years old, but I am taking a chance and hoping that we will have a buyer who will fall in love with this house, just like we did.

Decisions, Decisions...

It's difficult to know what the right thing to do is. It's never easy. If it was easy, life would be boring and mundane. We wouldn't be faced with situations wherein we had to make tough decisions and where we didn't have to figure out what the next step was. Who'd want to live a life such as this? Not me. I may complain and go on about wishing life was easier, that it would be better if someone made my decisions for me. That if I didn't have to think, should I go left, or should I go right, it would be a better day ahead and I would be happier. Really? No, that would be absolutely horrible actually. Sure there are times when I am faced with excruciating decisions, that weigh so heavily on me that it hurts waking up in the morning and putting one foot infront of the other, but I still would rather have that over someone making the decision for me and not having the right to choose.

This all started because I felt that being a mother (Oh, I absolutely don't like the way I feel when I write mother and reference myself. It makes me feel like a matriarch rather than a cool mom...so...anyway...moving on) is a tough job, to make decisions for someone else, to know always what the right thing to do is. And to be honest, truly honest...I never know what the right thing to do is. Never. I sway this way, and that way. I stumble around blindly at times, but some how, I manage to get it right most of the time. I always wish my mom was here. And it's not a sad acknowledgement really, it's just a fair statement. I think any mother out there leans on their own mother for when life gets tough. I don't have that, and I really wish at times that I did. I don't know if it would make it any easier, the decision is still going to be mine alone, but to have that person who could give you motherly advise would at least feel safe.

So back to making the right decision and knowing how and when. I wouldn't trade the freedom of deciding for anything, and that's what I hope to teach Emma. That making the right decision isn't always about what others expect you to choose, but what you want and what works best for you. What comes after your decision is the unknown part and that's when it gets even trickier. That's when you know if you made the right decision. And was it all you had anticipated? Did you get what you needed? What you wanted? Do you feel you lost out because you turned left when you should have jumped right? It's all a game isn't? We never really know because tomorrow hasn't happened yet. But it's always a bit scary...

Life Paths

I am worried sometimes that I am a bit of schizophrenic. If you look up Schizophrenia in the dictionary, you’ll find the following definition

a state characterized by the coexistence of contradictory or incompatible elements.

If we should go by this definition alone, then yes, my actions/state of mind are sometimes those of a schizophrenic person.

For the past month(s) (I am just not sure for how long this has been going on exactly) I’ve been preaching to anyone who will listen that living in the moment is the only way to go. That looking back towards your past is a waste of time as it has already happened and you can’t do anything about it. Your past is your past - simple and non-negotiable.

And your future, well, it hasn’t even happened yet so why fret about it and make plans that you know you’re going to break or at the least alter because events just never happen the way you think they will. So don’t plan and you’ll be happier and less disappointed and frustrated.
So, live in the moment and enjoy the hour you’re currently in for what it is, not for what it could have been or could be.

It works well doesn’t it?

Yes, sure it does…try it!

Yet. If I am blatantly honest with myself…I don’t follow my own advice. And I never have. No matter how hard I try to stay in the moment, I find myself drawn to my past and looking forward to my future.

There’s that one scent of something that pulls me violently towards my past where I am reminded of other times shared with someone, or some place visited that meant something. Feelings are brought to the surface that should have been shelved a long time ago, filed away in the section of “do not open until after death”. They are dusted off in an instant and what I felt then, I feel now without stopping to consider the length of time that’s passed since that day so long ago. These moments (love that word…yes…I do) are dreaded moments, because they bring forth memories that were considered (by me only) to be forever locked away and not readily accessible. Time has passed, how can something be so strong after such a long time.

I hear a song and I am brought back decades (yes, I am old enough to go back decades and sound believable) to a time when things seemed simpler. But if I really look at those times, there’s nothing simple about them, they were terrible (or terribly good) times but all that has dissipated and what’s left seem extraordinary. And in a way that is extraordinary, it’s part of who I am now and I became this person I am today, because of all that stuff in my past. So this is where the schizophrenia sets in…I relive the past while I live in the moment…and look towards the future…

Future…it’s a scary word really. It’s so unknown, so grand and so vast. I fear it and I love it, at the same time…(another schizophrenic moment). There are plans for my future, some that I have set in motion, other plans are made by other people and are unknown to me at this point. Do I believe in fate and karma? Sometimes. Most definitely. I’ve been knocked off my feet by fate and karma and six degrees of separation theories…so I believe…what I like to believe…the rest I shrug off as coincidences…(yet, these are fate related aren’t they?).

I don’t really believe in planning for your future though. And by planning I mean, trying to know what’s going to happen a year from now, how you are going to feel a year from now about something or someone. Here’s hoping it doesn’t change from how I’m feeling now, but there’s always that chance that things will be different, at least somewhat…and I am not saying it will change for the worse…just that they will be different. Because they always seem to do. Even plans as soon as next week could change…flexibility is a necessity in life.

So, the meaning of this rant…that again, moments are great, but reliving parts of your past can also be great because it makes you remember where you came from, and what you have accomplished, or where you’ve been and it reminds you of who you are today…and the future is important and a bit of planning can’t hurt, but I still think that today is the best part of your life

Moments

"You're gonna miss this

You're gonna want this back

You're gonna wish these days

hadn't gone by so fast

These Are Some Good Times

So take a good look around

You may not know it now

But you're gonna miss this"

These are lyrics from a Trace Adkins song. I've always thought that the song was so cute, very adorable and I almost cried when I heard it the first time. I know, me, crying over a song...hah...well, that's not a shocker really. I cry over commercials at times. Some will shake their heads over the fact that I've just quoted a country song, others will not even know it was a country song and now laugh, because I admitted to it. It's the sentiment I am after.

There are moments in my life that I never want to end. I want moments to last a lifetime and in a way, some moments actually do last a lifetime because they are imprinted on my soul. Like the first time I held Emma in my arms. That's a moment that will never go away. Or when I was younger and went on my first Harley ride. That's another moment that will always be with me. Moments are so important. Moments make you feel alive and it makes your soul fly. It makes the every day grey not so boring, it makes those bills piled up on your desk seem less important and it makes you realize that life is wonderful after all.

One of life's lessons is probably to be less serious. To be a bit more alive, to not sweat the small stuff, to walk a little slower, to stop and just breathe.

Emma is growing up fast. She's taken a habit of coming in to bed with me in the mornings and everyone out there, and every book ever written about parenting would tell me that the only thing to do is walk her back to her bed and promptly put her back. Not to give in to the lazy way of just giving in and opening up the blankets for this little person wanting some mommy time.

WHY?? Why should I put this little person back in her bed? She's beautiful, she's warm, she makes my heart swell and she loves me. She takes up so little space and for the last hour of the morning before my alarm goes off, what better way to start my day? So she takes up some space, she'll get a bad habit...she won't do it forever. I am no fool. There will be moments when she's a teenager and she'll HATE me.

So, as my man Trace sings it..."You're gonna miss this..." and yes, I believe I will. I will therefor take every moment I can for a little extra snuggle, for a little extra time for a big hug and I will stop and breathe.

All Coloured In

For the past months I have rediscovered a lot of things about me. For example, my love for winter, how the sun warms you even when it's freezing cold and on a milder day, I can stay outside for hours, feeling the cool air on my face, walking for hours, or perhaps even sitting down on a bench and just soaking in the sun. I've rediscovered how much I seek and want quiet time and alone time. As a teenager and I suppose also as a younger child, I always found myself alone at times but was never bothered by it. Since I had Emma, I haven't allowed myself a lot of alone time. I now know how important it is for me and how much value I place in having some alone time. I need to be on my own now and then, to gather my thoughts, to find peace and comfort within me. Yes, it could perhaps sound a bit strange, but I know what I am striving for and what I truly want and it is to be whole.

It's difficult to know what it is that you want in your life, but little by little you figure it out and it is what you make of your experiences and your wants that makes you whole. I am getting closer.

A couple of months ago, a truly great friend introduced me to a whole world of music that I would never have found on my own. I have been exploring this massive world, song by song. I have experienced highs and lows by lyrics and melodies that have taken me on journeys I would never have travelled on my own. For all of this I am grateful and can't wait to experience more of that world.

It's amazing how much music affects me. It gives me wings when I need it, it takes me to greater heights and it supports me when I am falling. I love that something so "simple" can make you float or help you go through the worst times in your life. It can make you remember good times, moments in your life that meant something to you, it can take you back decades and plunk you right down in the middle of your teenage years. Great music can make you cry or smile until your cheeks hurt.

All Coloured In. I love that. I found it in a song by The National. The song itself has nothing to do with what I took with me after listening to it. To me "all coloured in" means complete. Not just lines, but coloured in and whole. That's how I've felt for the past month. A bit more complete, a bit more coloured in...

Mamma

I've started writing this so many times. I don't know how to begin, how to end or even what to fit in the middle. I want to write about my mom, how much she meant to me, what she stood for and what she still stands for to this day. She's been gone 10 years...

It's something I don't really think about. The days meld together and the years have passed. Yet, there is not a day that goes by when I don't wake up thinking of her, or go to sleep without sending her a thought. She enters my dreams and I see her in myself in almost everything I do. I look in the mirror and should I look too hastily, I see her, not me.

I don't always think I have the courage to write this, or the power to keep my tears at bay. I find it so amazing that I have gone ten years without my mother in my life to explain life's ins and outs. I look back at my life without her and wonder how I sometimes managed. I know the answer, because she was always with me.

She is with me when I walk through a crowd of people, she's with me when I sit on the sofa and knit, she's with me when I laugh and she's with me when I cry. She's there when I need her, but still...although I find so much peace in knowing and feeling that...it's not the same as if she was here with me, guiding me, laughing with me, or drying my tears.

I miss her so much that my heart aches and I don't have enough air in my lungs to breathe. I've never felt such pain and not known what to do with it. I wonder some times if I am still trying to figure it out. I think I am. It becomes very clear when I react to something without thinking, or when I throw myself to the wind and don't know where it will take me. These are the moments when I am positive that I am still grieving without knowing it. I wish she was here to tell me how to let go.

I am not sure I want to though. Letting go may mean forgetting and I am afraid of forgetting. I like remembering. I like thinking of baking with her in the kitchen, or spending hours hiking in the woods looking at plants and bugs. I like having thoughts of winter escapades with hot chocolate and cold fried egg sandwhiches with orange segments. Dyeing wool in a big vat, straw figurines, knitting, singing, playing piano, listening to boring classical music, driving in France and always giving the opposite directions, cooking...

It's funny, as I am thinking of the things that remind me of my mom, I am also reminded of how much alike we are, not just in looks, but in our likes and dislikes. She was always making sure everyone was taking care before she looked after herself. I think I have that in me, very much. She was always baking...I think I would if I had more time at home. She loved being outside, so do I and I had forgetting just how much, especially in the winter, until I had an opportunity to spend a few hours on snowshoes on a beautiful winters day with a very good friend. It was a bit of a rebirth. I found myself taken back to when I was only a little girl and the days we spent up in northern Sweden cross country skiing. I love winter and for years I have complained about why I would move from one cold wintery country to another when I could have moved somewhere warm and wonderful. I know why now, I know why in ever essence of my being...my mom is here. She's in the snow, she's in the wind, she's in the stars and she's guiding me and I wasn't sure I knew it...or allowed it in. I know now and I am sure I will never live where the snow doesn't fall, where the wind doesn't blow and whip your hair all about, or where the leaves don't change colour or where the tulips doesn't bloom. I know that, because I wouldn't be able to feel my mom.

I wrote my mom a poem for the memorial notice for the local paper in Sweden which will be out on Monday, February 9, 2009

10 years without you have passed

how were we able to last

nothing forgotten but often unseen

hidden in the heart's corner or in dreams reconvene

no day is like the other

as we walk through life without a mother

the love we have the loss we feel

will always be there to keep you real

10 år utan dig har gått

hur har vi ej förstått

Inget glömt men oftast gömt

i hjärtats vrå och i sömnen drömt

Ingen dag är lik den andra

när vi utan dig genom livet vandra

Vi älskar dig och saknaden förblir densamma,

Du vår underbara, fina Mamma

Hearts

My first real post will be about hearts. I think because of what my heart is telling me these days, and because it's such an incredibly powerful organ. We talk about heart's content, the beating heart, the heartache, sweethearts, heart failure and I heart yous. My heart beats for so many people, and for that I am proud and it makes me feel alive. It beats for my little Emma, who brings me so much joy and laughter. She makes my heart swell and my cup runneth over with love. It beats for my husband, who never waivers in his support, who never ever stops loving me no matter what. I am at peace in that knowledge. It beats for a great family, amazing friends, ex-lovers, old flames, departed souls and most of all, it beats for me. I've always known I am a hopeless romantic, a passionate soul who sometimes get caught up in emotions that are strong and that carry me away on dreams that have no ending, or on dreams that take me to places I thought I had let go of. What I didn't know, and what I have discovered, is how incredible it feels to really understand your heart and not fight what's in it. To open it up to people that are willing to accept it, just the way it is...a bit battered, a bit frayed and a bit weathered, but all that makes my heart stronger and make me able to love more. To have that little extra to give, that little extra space for that soul who desperately needs it and because my heart says so and loves without question.

I've had my share of heartaches, but with every ache I've learned to embrace the bad and instead of closing my heart in, I've let it grow with the pain. I am no angel, far from it, perhaps a dark one at times, but my heart holds many souls and it will continue to do so. In the nooks and crannies of my heart, there are people who have passed through my life, sometimes briefly, but have in one way or another impacted my life in a way that can only be described as heart worthy. These souls are forever imprinted on the walls of my heart.

It sounds messed up, I know...like a song, like a poem, like something out of a corny love story...It's ok, I don't mind. The truth is, and I know it well, is that I am a romantic fool, a complete geek when it comes to feeling like a teenager in love. When that heart beats an extra beat, when it skips and jumps because someone just happened to smile a certain way. Those are the moments I carry in my heart, that's where I go when I am sad. I find peace in digging out those moments of pure joy, when nothing else mattered except that moment and I could have let go of everything. Or when Emma says "I love you too mommy", and my heart grows to double it's size in my chest and my eyes water. Those moments are heart moments.

So, take good care of your heart...let it be what it is, trust it and it will guide you, never let it be broken, learn from its ups and downs and find peace in knowing that it is bigger than you think, can hold more than you will ever know...

Writing

I wanted to start writing. I found these old books of mine where I kept notes and although I didn't write every day, I wrote more often than not. It's been over a decade since that time...it's time to start writing again.

I have too many thoughts in my head that would probably ease my brain working on overload. What better way than to just type it all out...I don't think I even care if anyone reads it, or comment on it. What I would care about, is if I in any way inspired someone from anything that I wrote, or if I in some way helped someone by keeping this blog going.

I have no objective, I have no goal. Whatever comes of this blog will be for me only, and to be read by those who care. I can foresee that sometimes there will be fun posts, sometimes there will be sad posts, they will be deep or very light in content.

I'll enjoy it, that I'll know for sure.

Shall we start then?