It feels good to be putting words on paper again, and in a much more serious way than I have in the past. Before, I would scribble ideas here and there, feverishly start a project and then abandon it when the initial flow ran dry. I've always known that serious writing is more, much more, than that. But to have hours to carve out to immerse myself in a world, in research, in getting into a groove, well, that was just wishful thinking.
In my mind I have a beautiful little space in my home. There is a window with sunlight pouring in and green leaves framing the glass on the outside. There is a cute little desk with a hard backed chair. There are a few decorative items in soft colours. My computer adorns the centre, but there is room aplenty to spread out my books and notebook as I go back and forth between materials. Nearby there is a comfortable plush chair, big enough for me to recline in my favourite position (head against one arm and legs thrown over the other arm) where I can immerse myself in reading. It's not necessarily a room unto itself, just a quiet space where I can pass a couple of hours working at writing.
I don't have this space yet, but the past week I have spread myself out on my bed. Juliette's nap runs almost two hors, during which the older boys get to watch a movie, and I have that quiet time to myself. The afternoon sun pours in through the bedroom window and illuminates the cream walls and white duvet. The bed is plenty big enough for the laptop, the ipad, two books and notepad that are necessary to my current project. And after a lovely trip to the beach on Monday with a fellow writer, I have been inspired once more to get serious about a writing project.
So far this project is simply falling out of my head and onto paper. I read and write furiously for two hours, and feel I could easily go another hour or two if time allowed. But perhaps the shortened time keeps me fresh and excited for the next day instead of allowing me to grow bored from spending too long in one thing.
The last time I wrote my own projects this seriously was actually almost exactly a year ago. Autumn weather has rushed in these past few days and I think the shift is re-energizing me.
Friday, 15 August 2014
Tuesday, 12 August 2014
Dreaming
One thought:
So I was thinking the other day about homeschooling, and why I don't do it when I love the idea so much. I've noted before that my children are not the type to like to sit and learn on their own, constantly demanding 100% of my attention and how frustrated I get that I don't have 400% to give to them. I've also noticed lately how social they are. My children literally wake up every day and ask "who's house can we go to?" Yesterday we spent the day at the beach, and while I was "lifeguarding" from the shore I watched Benjamin go out in the water and come back with no less than 15 different parents and their children. He made friends with 6 different families on the shore and built in the sand with them. Juliette was excited to have her friends there and explored all day with them.
Second thought:
James and I always keep our eyes out for properties. In our plans, we would move in two or three years. The new house would have one more bedroom, an office for James, and a huge rec room in the basement. If we dream bigger, our little home is one a huge stretch of acreage within 10 minutes of town. The problem with this lovely dream is that it comes with a price tag of $600,000 or beyond.
Those two thoughts merging:
I realized that we could get the space we want but not on the large property for $200,000 (plus interest) less. And then I realized that we could go on a $20,000 vacation every year for 10 years or more with that savings...
And then an idea started forming in my mind...
What if, when Colin hit high school, we started to take those vacations. Not all-inclusive vacations to a resort for a week or two, but big, long, two month vacations. Big vacations to foreign countries where we study history and English and literature and photography and geography and art and philosophy and music. What if we rent a home in one spot and travel around? What if drive to historical settings and learn about history first hand, and experience new cultures, and read books together in the evenings? What if the kids attended one semester of high school to do math and science and special interest classes and then we take off for a semester and "homeschool?" Ten years would take us all the way from Colin's first year of high school through Juliette's final year.
I love dreams like this. And something in me is really, really, really loving this one.
So I was thinking the other day about homeschooling, and why I don't do it when I love the idea so much. I've noted before that my children are not the type to like to sit and learn on their own, constantly demanding 100% of my attention and how frustrated I get that I don't have 400% to give to them. I've also noticed lately how social they are. My children literally wake up every day and ask "who's house can we go to?" Yesterday we spent the day at the beach, and while I was "lifeguarding" from the shore I watched Benjamin go out in the water and come back with no less than 15 different parents and their children. He made friends with 6 different families on the shore and built in the sand with them. Juliette was excited to have her friends there and explored all day with them.
Second thought:
James and I always keep our eyes out for properties. In our plans, we would move in two or three years. The new house would have one more bedroom, an office for James, and a huge rec room in the basement. If we dream bigger, our little home is one a huge stretch of acreage within 10 minutes of town. The problem with this lovely dream is that it comes with a price tag of $600,000 or beyond.
Those two thoughts merging:
I realized that we could get the space we want but not on the large property for $200,000 (plus interest) less. And then I realized that we could go on a $20,000 vacation every year for 10 years or more with that savings...
And then an idea started forming in my mind...
What if, when Colin hit high school, we started to take those vacations. Not all-inclusive vacations to a resort for a week or two, but big, long, two month vacations. Big vacations to foreign countries where we study history and English and literature and photography and geography and art and philosophy and music. What if we rent a home in one spot and travel around? What if drive to historical settings and learn about history first hand, and experience new cultures, and read books together in the evenings? What if the kids attended one semester of high school to do math and science and special interest classes and then we take off for a semester and "homeschool?" Ten years would take us all the way from Colin's first year of high school through Juliette's final year.
I love dreams like this. And something in me is really, really, really loving this one.
Thursday, 7 August 2014
Adult relationships
I always assumed that once I left the world of childhood and entered adulthood that finally people would understand how to relate to one another. Relationships would be fulfilling, or if not, then at least civil. Understanding would be extended, intentions assumed to be good, and communication would be clear. I am realizing that what I saw as a flaw of childhood was actually a condition of humanity.
Perhaps it is the complex method through which communication happens. Getting one thought from one person to another involves on behalf of the speaker: assimilating information, condensing it, choosing language, using tone, and then on behalf of the listener: hearing and discerning, expanding that information, and disseminating throughout the brain to understand it. The pathway is long and complex and there is much room for error. I picture the warning sign that pops up on computers that simply says "error!" when you try to give a command that doesn't get through properly. If only we humans could just as easily discern an error and give the appropriate message, perhaps there would not be nearly the amount of conflict that exists.
But it goes beyond communication. As if that wasn't complicated enough, we all have such different personalities that I think sometimes we can't seem to find a common ground to stand on. Sadly, many people don't even want to try. I think of the number of times I've metaphorically scaled a mountain trying to understand someone else's point of view, and find myself blocked by a big "no entry" gate as the other person is unwilling to try and discuss the issue.
My own weakness lies in listening. To truly understand someone you have to truly listen. Too many times I find myself waiting for a pause in a sentence so I can jump in with my thought. Too often I find myself wishing they would see what I was saying, since I was obviously right. I trust my own mind a little too much, unwilling to admit I might be wrong, or at least that we both might be right in different ways.
I suppose if it was all worked out there would be no growth in relationships. Certainly when two people learn to have a meaningful discussion their relationship deepens another step or two. And there is no doubt that we as humans always need another good dose of humility, cultivating the ability to accept the ideas of others and our own fallibility.
Perhaps it is the complex method through which communication happens. Getting one thought from one person to another involves on behalf of the speaker: assimilating information, condensing it, choosing language, using tone, and then on behalf of the listener: hearing and discerning, expanding that information, and disseminating throughout the brain to understand it. The pathway is long and complex and there is much room for error. I picture the warning sign that pops up on computers that simply says "error!" when you try to give a command that doesn't get through properly. If only we humans could just as easily discern an error and give the appropriate message, perhaps there would not be nearly the amount of conflict that exists.
But it goes beyond communication. As if that wasn't complicated enough, we all have such different personalities that I think sometimes we can't seem to find a common ground to stand on. Sadly, many people don't even want to try. I think of the number of times I've metaphorically scaled a mountain trying to understand someone else's point of view, and find myself blocked by a big "no entry" gate as the other person is unwilling to try and discuss the issue.
My own weakness lies in listening. To truly understand someone you have to truly listen. Too many times I find myself waiting for a pause in a sentence so I can jump in with my thought. Too often I find myself wishing they would see what I was saying, since I was obviously right. I trust my own mind a little too much, unwilling to admit I might be wrong, or at least that we both might be right in different ways.
I suppose if it was all worked out there would be no growth in relationships. Certainly when two people learn to have a meaningful discussion their relationship deepens another step or two. And there is no doubt that we as humans always need another good dose of humility, cultivating the ability to accept the ideas of others and our own fallibility.
Friday, 1 August 2014
Colinism
I wrote a while back about rep sports, about getting in deep with one thing, about devoting time and money to something. As I mulled it all over, I came to the conclusion that I wasn't adverse to helping a real talent along, it's just that I had never come into personal contact with that much talent in one area. Growing up I always succeeded in what I tried my hand at, but I was never the very best in that field. Jack of all trades, Master of none. I might have even been a big fish in a small pond, but I was not gifted with a prodigy-like talent that would have made me a big fish in a big pond. But my personality type is fine with that. I like doing well at what I try, but I don't feel a hunger to pursue it with such devotion.
It seems, though, that I might be edging on something here with Colin. He has just finished a week long soccer camp run by a British soccer club. I chatted casually at the end of practice today, to get a feel for what they thought. Each coach described his natural ability as "unreal." He scored off the charts in every single area. And this is the first training he's ever had. He played at recess with his friends at school this past year, and this summer has been playing in a very casual league (ie: his parent coach has no real soccer experience to assist in any training.)
I was able to catch a glimpse of it on Wednesday night. Camera in hand, I was running between three fields, trying to take photos of all three boys playing on separate fields. As I crouched on the sidelines of Colin's game, I saw him make intuitive decisions about when to dribble and when to pass. I saw that for him, the game was more important than the glory. I saw 110% of his passion and effort poured into every second he was on the field.
Then, I saw him battle for the ball at mid-field. The next thing I knew, he broke free and was heading toward where I sat by the opposing team's net. 15 feet down he came across a defence man and his feet seemed to dance with the ball. He tapped the ball at a backward angle, stopped it blind, moved it deftly around the players and continued on. He barrelled down the field in complete control of the ball, and at the next block he brought the ball to a dead stop and reversed directions from left to right in the blink of an eye. The next blockage he tapped the ball right through an invisible clear pathway between the tangle of legs. Another quick deke or two and he was at the net. He glanced up, gauged the goalie's movement and kicked the ball in the other direction. It sailed clear into the net.
It took my breath away. I know a parent is always first to laud their own child's accomplishments. How natural it is to beam with pride at any accomplishment - whether physical, intellectual, spiritual, of character, or any other. But for me this was different. It was a moment to recognize what others have been telling me and I have been so reluctant to hear: he's good. He's really good.
My heart pumps at finding something my son both loves and excels at. When you can pinpoint that in a child, you can help them focus through the turmoil years of youth. Sometimes so much is going on in your body and mind and heart that your head can get lost in it all. Having something to throw yourself into can be therapeutic. I had music growing up. I can recall the hours I spent at the piano, picking up the guitar, the clarinet. Even now when my head swirls I have turned to the flute, the violin, and back to my old favourites also. Music has given me passion, focus, discipline, release, and love. It's wonderful to see the same thing in Colin.
It seems, though, that I might be edging on something here with Colin. He has just finished a week long soccer camp run by a British soccer club. I chatted casually at the end of practice today, to get a feel for what they thought. Each coach described his natural ability as "unreal." He scored off the charts in every single area. And this is the first training he's ever had. He played at recess with his friends at school this past year, and this summer has been playing in a very casual league (ie: his parent coach has no real soccer experience to assist in any training.)
I was able to catch a glimpse of it on Wednesday night. Camera in hand, I was running between three fields, trying to take photos of all three boys playing on separate fields. As I crouched on the sidelines of Colin's game, I saw him make intuitive decisions about when to dribble and when to pass. I saw that for him, the game was more important than the glory. I saw 110% of his passion and effort poured into every second he was on the field.
Then, I saw him battle for the ball at mid-field. The next thing I knew, he broke free and was heading toward where I sat by the opposing team's net. 15 feet down he came across a defence man and his feet seemed to dance with the ball. He tapped the ball at a backward angle, stopped it blind, moved it deftly around the players and continued on. He barrelled down the field in complete control of the ball, and at the next block he brought the ball to a dead stop and reversed directions from left to right in the blink of an eye. The next blockage he tapped the ball right through an invisible clear pathway between the tangle of legs. Another quick deke or two and he was at the net. He glanced up, gauged the goalie's movement and kicked the ball in the other direction. It sailed clear into the net.
It took my breath away. I know a parent is always first to laud their own child's accomplishments. How natural it is to beam with pride at any accomplishment - whether physical, intellectual, spiritual, of character, or any other. But for me this was different. It was a moment to recognize what others have been telling me and I have been so reluctant to hear: he's good. He's really good.
My heart pumps at finding something my son both loves and excels at. When you can pinpoint that in a child, you can help them focus through the turmoil years of youth. Sometimes so much is going on in your body and mind and heart that your head can get lost in it all. Having something to throw yourself into can be therapeutic. I had music growing up. I can recall the hours I spent at the piano, picking up the guitar, the clarinet. Even now when my head swirls I have turned to the flute, the violin, and back to my old favourites also. Music has given me passion, focus, discipline, release, and love. It's wonderful to see the same thing in Colin.
Monday, 28 July 2014
Calebite
Caleb offered to take a friend's paper route today while they were on vacation.
Before starting: "This is awesome! I can't wait to get a route of my own."
Halfway delivering: "All this work for only $10? My time is worth so much more than that. $20 at least."
When finished: "No way I'm ever getting a paper route. No way."
Before starting: "This is awesome! I can't wait to get a route of my own."
Halfway delivering: "All this work for only $10? My time is worth so much more than that. $20 at least."
When finished: "No way I'm ever getting a paper route. No way."
Thursday, 24 July 2014
Summer days
Summer is speeding along. As I pout about prolonged silence from my favourite bloggers, my own little space here is equally neglected. Four children home in our little space, with these precious few months of good weather, means that we are constantly on the move, getting outside, being active, and loving it.
With advanced birthday money from us and my parents, we bought Caleb a kayak. He had mentioned it a few times, since I have my own kayak in the garage. I took him out for the first time last week and my heart could have burst open from the experience. He hopped in the kayak and paddled away as though he'd been doing it longer than I. He paused in the middle of the lake and sighed happily, noting how peaceful it was. Then he paddled hard to cross the great width of the lake, because he had promised his brothers he would, and "a promise is a promise." Now I really do have to get a roof rack so that we can bring the kayaks along with us on camping trips.
Yesterday I had my first paid workday (that wasn't for our family business) in a long time. A couple of my friends have a video company and are moving from wedding videos into corporate work, and they have hired me as a freelance writer, and also to be assistant director on shooting days. The job is so perfect in that most of the work can be done from home, but there are still a few days now and then to get me out a bit. My priority has always been to stay home with my children, but this will allow me to earn a little extra money while we shift our business ventures. I also applied for a proofreading job that is also done from home. How wonderful to find work that can be done once the children are asleep, so that it doesn't cut into my time with them.
Speaking of which, we are about to launch a new business, James and I. We are combining our film and writing training with our experience with seniors...to start making autobiographical videos for seniors who want to record their life story.
Finally, finally, finally, Juliette is sleeping through the night. For the first time in over nine years, I am getting a solid seven hours of sleep a night. Combined with the beautiful summer weather I'm about bursting with energy.
Lazy days by a friend's pond, soccer games, parks, bike rides, tennis, geocaching, ball hockey. Reading, reading and more reading (Colin is going through 1-2 novels a day!) Looking ahead to some camping trips, a soccer camp, and maybe getting Ben's training wheels off. Life is good.
With advanced birthday money from us and my parents, we bought Caleb a kayak. He had mentioned it a few times, since I have my own kayak in the garage. I took him out for the first time last week and my heart could have burst open from the experience. He hopped in the kayak and paddled away as though he'd been doing it longer than I. He paused in the middle of the lake and sighed happily, noting how peaceful it was. Then he paddled hard to cross the great width of the lake, because he had promised his brothers he would, and "a promise is a promise." Now I really do have to get a roof rack so that we can bring the kayaks along with us on camping trips.
Yesterday I had my first paid workday (that wasn't for our family business) in a long time. A couple of my friends have a video company and are moving from wedding videos into corporate work, and they have hired me as a freelance writer, and also to be assistant director on shooting days. The job is so perfect in that most of the work can be done from home, but there are still a few days now and then to get me out a bit. My priority has always been to stay home with my children, but this will allow me to earn a little extra money while we shift our business ventures. I also applied for a proofreading job that is also done from home. How wonderful to find work that can be done once the children are asleep, so that it doesn't cut into my time with them.
Speaking of which, we are about to launch a new business, James and I. We are combining our film and writing training with our experience with seniors...to start making autobiographical videos for seniors who want to record their life story.
Finally, finally, finally, Juliette is sleeping through the night. For the first time in over nine years, I am getting a solid seven hours of sleep a night. Combined with the beautiful summer weather I'm about bursting with energy.
Lazy days by a friend's pond, soccer games, parks, bike rides, tennis, geocaching, ball hockey. Reading, reading and more reading (Colin is going through 1-2 novels a day!) Looking ahead to some camping trips, a soccer camp, and maybe getting Ben's training wheels off. Life is good.
Tuesday, 15 July 2014
Calebite
Colin and Caleb have become voracious readers, and so our local library is once again being ravaged by their little hands. Last week Caleb took out a graphic novel. Yesterday he finished it, and was excited to share with me:
"Mom, it's called "War of the Worlds." I thought it was going to be a history book about all the wars that have been fought by all the countries..."
(that's what he was hoping it was about? Strange subject matter for a six year old.)
"...but instead it was about these aliens who come and invade earth."
He continued on, telling me the beginnings of the story. Then, his vocabulary shifted, and he began to relate the story in first person:
"The next thing I knew I was in this cage. All the others were adults. I started looking around for some way to get the lock open....
...the aliens were coming down on us hard, and I was so afraid inside...
...the aliens were killing everyone around me, until there were only four of us left..."
I listened, amazed. I know that the idea of a book is that you find yourself immersed in a world. But I have never heard a child tell the storyline of a book in first person, as though they were experiencing it themselves.
"Then I was just too frightened by it all, so I tried to shake myself out of it and just finish reading it."
I don't know if he saw himself in the plot or if he drifted off in a daydream, but either way Caleb's imagination is more vivid than any other child I've met.
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