Thursday, August 6, 2015

August and Everything After...Is Unknown.

Somehow the months since mid-March have passed in a blur. A good blur. Like bokeh. The day I last wrote, I did indeed end up making madeleines that I gave to a friend for her 51st birthday. That evening at her party, I had a long conversation with her son. He seemed to be enjoying our talk, and I wondered if he might be interested in me. No, I told myself, he's younger...of course he wouldn't be interested in that way! But several weeks later, his mom put us in touch with an email, and we started emailing. Some weeks after that, he asked me on a date.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Most of the way through Q1.

So far 2015 has included some of the busiest months I have ever had. But this time has been good, mostly because in all the busyness, winter has gone by with me often in a survival-auto-pilot state. That might sound negative, but not having time to think too much in the depths of winter has actually been a relief. Supposedly February was the coldest in over a hundred years, but I was so busy going from one job to another that I hardly noticed. In fact, I was often loosening my scarf or removing one mitten because I was warm from jogging to try to catch the next bus so I wouldn't have to wait 6 or so minutes for another one.

Saturday, December 20, 2014


I've always thought of Advent as some sort of merry, ascending on-ramp toward Christmas.

This year Advent feels like a descent into darkness.

It's a snowy deep winter night full of unknowing and quiet waiting.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Drifting toward darkness.

Around here it's clear that the darkness is gaining on the light, a little more each day. I just googled to find out when the winter solistice is (December 21), so that I will know exactly how long I have to hang in there before the light starts making a comeback.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014


Tonight I had my third ballet class. This fall I decided to push myself out of my comfort zone and sign up for an adult beginner ballet class. I had been vaguely considering the idea of taking ballet for a couple of years, but it seemed rather scary. Besides, it was too late. Who starts ballet as an adult anyway?

Last January, I almost signed up, but instead I registered for a semester-long live-model drawing studio. That seemed more manageable at the time, when I was in the depths of winter. Through it I was able to reconnect to visual art again and find healing in it. But the idea of taking ballet stuck with me, and I decided that this fall I would do it. I created a worst-case scenario idea in my head, and then once I had envisioned the absolute worst that could happen, I realized that it was nothing compared to what I've survived in the past. I had nothing to lose, so I bought my leotard, ballet shoes, tights and other ballet stuff and signed myself up. The receptionist asked if I would prefer to register after taking the trial class, and I said no. I didn't want to be able to back out.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

5 Years.

Five years ago today I moved to Québec.

What my life is like now is nothing like what I thought it would be on that day I crossed the border and moved to Canada. I came here to be with the person I loved, and once I left my country, he became my home. It wasn't a conscious decision; it just happened in my heart when I displaced myself for him and we got married.

When that exploded and the ground beneath me finally stopped shaking, I realized that I would need to gently dust myself off and redefine "home" for myself. I had to figure out a path forward.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Because sometimes you have to throw your own parties.

I threw myself a birthday party. I knew the first part of this month might not be easy for me, so I planned ways to intentionally take care of myself. I wanted to feel surrounded by loved ones and welcome in a new year, and a birthday is a perfectly normal reason to have a party. (Unfortunately a I-survived-the-depths-of-hell party is a little less socially acceptable.) And since I didn't have someone to throw me a party, I decided to throw one for myself. This probably broke some etiquette rules, especially because I made it a potluck party, but I don't even care. Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do.