Monday, July 16, 2018
Where does the time go?
I recall as a young kid me and my friends playing for countless hours (or so it seemed anyway) outdoors in the back fields or other surrounding areas of our town house. Dodgeball, tag, cops and robbers or even creating our own Olympic games of long jump or running track around a row of side-by-side homes, someone from the group staying back to clock our speed.
“Red rover, red rover.” We’d call for more time to laugh and play.
We always dreamed about growing up and learning to drive and making money; never did we give much thought to the jobs and responsibilities that came with those things. A break for a refreshing drink was clearly more appealing than the thought of paying taxes and hydro bills.
That anthropomorphic pitcher dude filled with the fruit juice, the mascot of Kool-Aid. Many times did I cherish his presence bursting onto the scene; because to me, not only did he represent a refreshing quench to thirst, but more fun; more time.
What happened? Where is the Kool-Aid Man now? The fun is still here, but maybe a little more distant, a little more rigid. The time, it seems a little more tight.
Fun isn’t meant to be scheduled, it should be everywhere in everything we do. I grew up, but I don’t need to leave the fun behind; just need to remind myself of that. We can’t let the craziness of society blind us to the good times that remain. “Red rover, red rover” may be a little different now, but the innocence of laughter should not be lost.
The daily quench for a little Kool-Aid… yes daily. It’s allowed. It’s time to stop saying “young at heart”, and just be, young at heart.
There is no need to wait for more time.
Tuesday, March 20, 2018
I recall in my younger years, early teens, riding the waves with my good friend. We were surfer dudes. Ok, so it wasn’t hanging ten off of the coast in California or Hawaii, it was in Lake Simcoe of Sutton Ontario. Styrofoam boards, moppy hair, wildly bright swim trunks!
We never even stood on the board. But it was still fun riding the two to three foot waves.
I wish all of the waves in life were like that. Fun. But I suppose, some are necessary. Some others, most of them maybe, unfair.
Life for just about everyone I am sure presents its difficulties, and it can be challenging to get through most often when people don’t seem to understand.
Financial issues; social issues; family obligation; work; discrimination. The list can pile up.
Life can be a bi$#h. Cruel even. And these are the waves we must ride.
But that’s just it, we ride them. We deal the best way can.
I’m not sure when or why it became shameful or embarrassing to step back, to seek help, to say I can’t do this and cry. Being put in a place to help others is great, but that doesn't mean we are not allowed to look out for ourselves or ask for some assistance now and then. Misunderstandings happen, sadness occurs. It is life. We ride the waves, and hopefully, somewhere along the line, we figure out that good times or bad, it is part of a journey.
Sticks and stones hurt. Being made to feel irrelevant hurts. And while it may be a part of life, it shouldn’t be; and it sucks.
These are the waves. Some enjoyable, some not so much. But we ride them. Because in the long haul, just like those three footers on Lake Simcoe, it is part of life. Sometimes we see the worth at the onset, sometimes it takes a while. But if we decide to go through, to endure….
I like to think that wearing my heart on my sleeve is a good thing, but maybe it is not.
Because I don’t know if others see the world the way my eyes do. Maybe they in fact do, and I am confused. Life in general, it is hard; I just keep trying to ride the waves. Survive. What else can I do?
Tuesday, February 13, 2018
The snow is coming down all around me but the winter days I remember as a kid growing up seem to be gone. Snow forts with tunnels, toboggan jumps off of our townhouse community hill, big chunky snowmen with a carrot nose and button eyes. My bones are getting older, fatigue looming more often, so that tradition can be passed onto younger generations. But still, how things change.
We get some of the white stuff accumulating on the ground, but then thawing away every once and a while only to reappear days later. Frigid cold, then mild, then cold again. Minus 40 to plus 11 in a week and a bit. Is this now the typical Canadian winter?
It wasn’t too long ago I recall taking my dog for walks. Bundling up in jackets and mitts. Tree’s would shield us from the wind coming off of the lake near my house, until they disappeared and we’d have to move fast to get out of harms way. Frozen fingers and frozen paws.
The dog is too old now, arthritis kicking in. No more walks. But still, how things change.
But even with the weather change, with age change, some things do remain.
Despite the up and down thermometer, to me January to mid-March still drag on. Depression can still kick in under those overcast clouds. Cold and flu season I think maybe made worse.
Are these the changing winter blahs… or just the blahs?
We can’t control the weather, we can’t control time; can we control the blahs?
I don’t know the answer. Maybe it is not about control but focus, focusing more on what gets me through. The things I enjoy. The moments that are there.
That younger generation in the smiles of my niece and nephew. The joy of still hanging out with my dog. There are so many things to consider.
There are parts of Winter I have to admit that I like; a nice snowfall, playing outdoors with the kids, tobogganing, hot chocolate, cozying up by the fire, chili in the crock. They are not totally gone and forgotten.
But maybe just a couple of weeks, because I’m over it now. If I have to deal with the blahs anytime during the year… I’d rather one of the other three seasons. If in fact, those still exist.