Balancing Act

Just in case several of my recent posts (such as this or this) haven't tipped you off, I am here to tell you that I am deep into end of semester insanity. The kind where hysterics are a daily event (whether these are of the laughing or crying variety depends on the day). The kind where sleep has become a thing fondly remembered but rarely experienced. The kind where every so often as you are walking along you are hit with a massive wave of panic. The kind where your desk is so buried under papers and books that you aren't actually sure what it looks like anymore. The kind where this disastrous state of your desk accurately reflects your mental state. This state of affairs is not helped by the fact that this year I am attempting to balance school and work. While I need the job and actually don't mind it, there are many days when I wish I could quit just to save my sanity. I am not good at balancing school and work. I figured this out in second year and it is why I didn't work in third year. I knew it was going to be tricky this year, but I had hoped I wouldn't hit this point in the year and feel like I was going insane. Sadly, this is not the case. Most days I feel like one of those plate spinners desperately trying not to let anything fall. I have taken to only focusing on one thing at a time. If I look at my to do list I get some serious waves of sheer panic. Despite all of this I am doing remarkably well though. So don't freak out. Trust me, I am doing more than enough of that on my own. I don't need any help.

I took this picture in Jasper a couple of years ago. We were walking along a trail around a lake and all of a sudden this little structure appeared as we rounded a corner. Someone must have waded out and made it. I liked how it looked with the lone stone perched atop of the pile seeming to float above the water. This is actually how I feel right now. Yeah, my life is an insane balancing act, and most days I feel like I'm losing it, but there is something grounding me and keeping me from completely falling apart. It's hidden beneath the surface of my crazy life, but it is keeping me from sinking under the insanity.

Ten Things...Overwhelmed by School

I have less than two weeks until the semester is over. This is insane when I consider the amount of work that has to be accomplished between now and then. That includes all of my finals. I can't think about more than one thing at a time otherwise I start having some serious panic attacks. I love academic, but around this time of year I always start wondering why I am planning to stay in school for goodness knows how long. I know I will survive this though. Here are ten posts that prove that I've been in this place before and come out in one piece:

1. Now I'm hunched over a typewriter
2. After 17 pages I have a rough draft
3. Burning the Midnight Oil
4. Drowning in a Flood
5. Sink or Swim
6. Trucking Through
7. Not Wanted on the Voyage
8. Daydreams of Paris
9. Just Relax
10. So many people are looking to me to be strong and to fight

Bring on the magic

On Thursday night my parents and I went to the Barra MacNeils' Christmas concert. They tour every couple of years and it has become a bit of a tradition for us to go to the show. This music is what makes me feel like it is officially Christmas. So even though the show was exactly a month before Christmas, and the weather outside has turned more spring-like than Christmas-y, I feel like it is now officially the Christmas season. Bring on the Christmas music, the lights, the tinsel, the gift wrap, the ribbons, the decorations, the glitter...bring on the magic. Because there really is something magical about Christmas-time. It doesn't matter how old I get, I still love this time of year. I love it for different reasons now. The presents matter less (although I do have strong opinions about the practice of gift-giving, but I will save those for another time), but the love matters more. Getting dressed up matters less, but the beauty matters more. Getting time off from work and school matters less, but the practice of taking some time to breathe and enjoy life matters more. Eating lots of food matters less, but spending time with family and friends matters more. Don't get me wrong, I still love presents and holiday meals and getting dressed up and getting time off from school. It's just that as I get older other things begin to be more important than all of that. I think part of the magic for me though comes from the plethora of lights that emerges at Christmas. I am obsessed with light. I am constantly struck with a sense of wonder and magic by light, so the light-filled holiday season is right up my alley. Whatever the reason for all this magic, I say bring it on. My Christmas season has official begun with a dose of east coast music that allowed me to forget for a few hours that I am currently living in Edmonton and drowning in homework. If that's not magic, I don't know what is.

Simple Pleasures

I had a really good conversation with Bean tonight. I always love spending time with her. It's kind of cool actually because it is like we are leading parallel lives in a lot of ways so I feel like she understands everything that comes out of my mouth even if it doesn't make sense to other people. One of the things we talked about was the ability to find joy and inspiration in small things. I can honestly say that even though school is crazy busy right now and I should be freaking out with stress, things are actually good. It is largely because I've been finding lately that the smallest things can leave me feeling happy or inspired. Something someone says in a conversation, a sentence overheard in the hallway, a comment made in a class, a beautiful sky, Christmas lights...anything is fair game for leaving me with a smile and a sense of satisfaction and contentment that runs far deeper than I have experienced in a long time. One example of this is the fact that yesterday I bought myself holiday rice krispies. I have a lot of dietary restrictions so the cereal I tend to eat isn't all that exciting. But holiday rice krispies have coloured pieces in them! I am super excited about this. In fact, I was so excited when we were in the grocery store that I was explaining to my roomie who was with me why I was so pumped that I could by them and some random guy in the aisle started laughing at my enthusiasm. And I didn't eve care. Now every time I see the box sitting on top of the fridge or a pour a bowl of them they make me smile. I think the ability to find joy and wonder in the smallest things is something that people lose as they grow up. Kids find everything super amazing. Seriously, when you are 6 smelly markers are just about the greatest things on the planet. They are amazing. How do they make them smell like that? Plus they are just great markers. For some reason as we grow up this sense of wonder tends to dim a little bit. It's something that I don't want to lose though. Having gone through periods in my life where it took a lot to make me smile, let alone experience deep joy in just being alive, and now returning to this place I feel like the ability to let small things affect you in this way is a sign of good mental health. At least I know it is for me. So I am going to continue to smile every time I eat my coloured rice krispies.

Icy

I was sitting at my desk on Monday when I looked up and realized there was ice on the inside of my window. That my friends is how cold it is. This was a very depressing realization. Fortunately I have a space heater. Unfortunately, as soon as I step outside of the lovely little bubble of heat produced by said space heater I turn into a popsicle. Oh Winter. What a joyous season.

I stop and smell the roses, but they're all frozen

I was listening to the radio the other day and the DJ was talking about how the roads are getting a bit nasty since winter is upon us and people should just take their time driving; they should "stop and smell the roses...although they are all frozen now". That made me laugh, but it also gave me pause to think. All too often when life gets crazy I fail to implement the simple practice of appreciating the good moments. It becomes far too easy for me to simply remain numb to anything good that happens. It is like smelling a frozen flower; there just isn't any point to the exercise. In November as the onslaught of papers and assignments gets more and more intense and the temperature continues to plummet and ice forms on the inside of my bedroom window it is easy to lose sight of the fact that my life is not actually an unmitigated disaster. In fact, if you dig beneath the stress and feeling of being completely out of control, my life is actually pretty great right now. Tonight was one of those nights that confirms that for me. I stopped to smell some frozen roses and found that they not only still hold a scent, they are downright gorgeous.

This picture is actually from Thanksgiving weekend back in October, but the frost had already hit the garden at my parents' house and one of my mom's rose bushes had been caught off guard by the cold snap. It was covered in buds and partial blooms that had simply been frozen in time. I think they are incredibly beautiful though. I guess it's like I said in yesterday's post: I love finding beauty in strange places, in the things that others call ugly.

Trucking Through

So we have reached the point in the semester when students begin to realize that 24 hours in a day is simply not enough time to get everything done. Particularly if you want to do small things like sleep or grocery shop (although if you take the time to grocery shop, you probably don't have time to eat...). And if you decide that you should really continue to have some semblance of a social life in order to maintain your sanity you can just forget about accomplishing anything. I've been learning recently that I have to take time for myself and need to make sure to interact with people and take the time to hang out with them. It's the only way to maintain my mental and physical health. Unfortunately I am having a rather hard time balancing full-time school, part-time work and a social life. As a result, the last few weeks of this semester are going to be absolutely crazy. I will get through though. Just have to keep trucking through. Sadly, many days I feel like my truck looks like this one: buried under stuff and in a general state of disrepair.

Speaking of trucking through...I just got back from a whirlwind roadtrip. Friday morning Gabby, Sinead and I set out for La Crete (which, for those of you who are not up and up on your Alberta small towns, is way up north) to go to Rosi and Joe's wedding. It was a whirlwind trip - we left around 10:00 a.m. on Friday and arrived back at about 6:30 a.m. on Sunday - but was totally worth it. It was such a beautiful wedding and I am so happy for them. Plus it was just nice to get out of the city for a while. Anyway, the drive back was long (somewhere around 10 hours) and since it was straight through the middle of the night there were definitely some crazy moments. We just pushed through though and made it back safe and sound. I slept from like 7:00 until 12:30 this morning though, so now my internal clock is all wonky. Fortunately this means I can get some more work done.

The picture is from a trip a couple years ago down to Sinead's family farm in Champion. I like how it is such a mess, but can make such a great picture. Beautiful mess. That's often what I look for in photos. Possibly because that is how I feel a lot of the time.

Just a housekeeping note: I'm taking the advice of one of my friends and starting to assign pseudonyms to the people in my life. That way I can tell stories without them getting really complicated. If I post photos of actual people I'll always put their real names (and make sure to ask their permission, obviously) and in cases like Rosi and Joe's wedding I will probably use real names (although, often nicknames that I use in real life). Just thought I would let you know in case you are reading this thinking "I know Bree and her friends, but I don't know a [insert name here]". That's why. You are not going crazy.

Illuminate

Josh Groban's new CD, Illuminate, came out on Monday. I don't even have words to express how excited I was about this release. I've been a serious Groban fan for years now and in my opinion his CDs just keep getting better. This one is no exception. I bought it the day it was released and have been listening to it as much as possible since then. It is truly beautiful. And moving. I mean beautiful and moving in the way that I find Anne Michaels' writing beautiful and moving. It connects on some deep level to the soul and somehow expresses things that I barely even knew I felt. There is a sense that somehow these songs can express things about yourself that you could never articulate and in doing so can heal you or comfort you. It is one of those surreal experiences where art can capture and understand you better than you understand yourself. And that is something I search for in literature and art and music. To be quite honest, I feel like words are inadequate to express how much a adore this album.

Inspired by both the title of the CD and the fact that the accumulation of snow has steadily been increasing all day, today's picture is a bit Christmasy. I adore light. I've probably talked about this before, but it is something that I could talk about for a very long time. One of my favourite parts of Christmas is the lights. I'm partial to the plain white lights over the coloured lights, but any lights will do really. When the snow starts to fly I immediately get excited for Christmas lights. The campus coffee shop has Christmas decorations (including lights) up now, and it makes me so happy every time I walk into the SAC. These are a couple of bulbs on my parents' tree about two years ago.

Winter has Arrived

From Winter
Patrick Lane

Winter 1
The generosity of snow, the way it forgives
transgression, filling in the many betrayals
and leaving the world
exactly as it was. Imagine a man
walking endlessly and finding his tracks,
knowing he has gone in a circle. Imagine
his diappointment. See how he strikes out again
in a new direction, hoping this way
will lead him out. Imagine how much
happier he will be this time with the wind
all around him, the wind filling in his tracks.

He is thinking of that man,
of what keeps him going.
The thought of snow,
small white grains sifting
into the holes where his feet went,
filling things in,
leaving no room for despair.

Winter 16
Everything moves without change. The trees
without leaves dance sadly, allowing
nothing to get in their way. Not sorrow,
not snow under snow, but a slow forgetting.
The old moon sleeps with the young moon in her arms.
Words like that are like reaching out
in the darkness, wanting
to sleep and not being able to. Reaching out
to find nothing at the end of the hand but cold.
Wondering at flesh, its need, as the trees
who do not remember leaves, dance sadly
with a steady dumb grief, their dark moving
a monotonous music in the snowy night.

Well, it seems that winter has officially arrived. Snow and cold have arrived for another year. Winter is definitely not my favourite season. Although it ushers in with it the promise of the Christmas season. And that my friends makes me very happy.

This picture is actually from last spring. There definitely isn't that much snow hanging around outside right now.

Ten Things...Let's get out of this town

In general, my flight instinct is a lot stronger than my fight instinct. As soon as things get hard, I want out. Life gets stressful and I start dreaming about being anywhere else. This is only compounded by the fact that I really do love to travel. Consequently, I spend a good amount of time thinking about being other places. I daydream about what my life would be like if I lived somewhere else. This longing for other places often finds its way onto the blog. Here's ten posts that reflect a yearning to just get out of this town (and, yes, that is a reference to the Carrie Underwood song):

1. Wanderlust
2. I love the places I ain't ever been to
3. Sometimes I feel I've got to run away
4. Daydreams of Paris
5. The Siren Song of the City
6. The Power of Suggestion
7. Sunset on the Harbour
8. Getaway Car
9. When words fail
10. Fields

Breaking the Rules

Apparently I have been learning a lot about myself lately. A couple of weeks ago, as I was working on a massive stack of papers, I came to this realization: I dislike rules. I'm not an anarchist, and I certainly recognize that having rules makes society survivable. In fact, I am generally what might be described as a "goody-goody". I follow the rules, I just resent them while I do it. Whenever I am told I can't hav something, I want it. I am constantly longing for something I don't have or somewhere I can't be. Whenever someone tells me what I should be doing I automatically want to do something else, and whenever someone tells me not to do something I automatically want to do it. Seriously. You know those signs in various public locations saying "No Loitering"? As soon as I see one of those I want to loiter. Never in my life have I had a need to loiter anywhere, but every time I see one of those signs I wish I had a reason to loiter. I love that this little wildflower refused to conform to its surroundings. I took this over the thanksgiving weekend in October. Not exactly prime flower season around here. And yet here was this little red flower, simply refusing to bow to the norm, refusing to be a washed-out colour that would blend in with the general death-like tones of October gardens. Nope, not this guy. He was going to be unapologetically red. I like that. Sometimes I wish I was more like that.

Feeling Dancey

David tells me that fairies never say, 'We feel happy': what they say is, 'We feel dancey.' 

Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens by J.M. Barrie 

The past couple days have been nothing short of perfect. I've been searching for a way to express how exceptionally happy they have made me, and today I came across this quote in Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens and knew that I had found it. I feel dancey. What a delightful phrase. Apparently fairies "forget all the steps when they are sad, and remember them again when they are merry" (50-1). This captures how I feel perfectly. Whenever life gets frustrating and upsetting (and those have been the overruling emotions the past couple of days for me) I stop dancing. This probably sounds a bit odd, but let me try to explain. I live my life to a relatively constant soundtrack of music. When I'm getting ready in the morning I tend to dance around my room to music. It doesn't really matter whether it is actually dance appropriate music or not, but I jump around like a fool (this is not something that I really want anybody to witness since I look completely ridiculous, but it makes me happy and helps me hate mornings a little less). While I do homework I chair dance (which I am certain is quite amusing for people who are walking past my office). If I ever am lucky enough to have the apartment to myself I bring music into the kitchen while I cook or clean and dance around. When I'm in choir I tend to sway or bounce (which I am positive looks strange, but I am not the only one who does it so I am usually okay with it). But whenever I am stressed or depressed or angry though I can't dance. Seriously. I've tried the whole dancing to turn my mood around thing and it just doesn't work for me. I can fake it for about five minutes. After that I just stop because I can't figure out what to do. It's like suddenly my body has no idea how to keep a beat or move in a semi-coordinated fashion. That is how I've been feeling the past couple weeks: like a simply can't dance. There was just no music left in my body. I totally listened to it and even sang along with some songs, but it was like life had just sapped all of the joy from my body and with it had gone all joy in music. Choir was difficult. Normally I can lose myself in the music, but it felt like a chore. But suddenly, the past few days have restored my ability to dance. (In fact, I am chair dancing in my office as I write this). This is a wonderful feeling and I am hoping it lasts for quite some time.

Used and Abused

I have recently learned something about myself: I am careless with my heart. If you know me, you might disagree with this. I have friends who say that relationship-wise they think I will eventually be the happiest of all of us because I'll take my time, I'll be careful and I won't just throw myself into the first arms that are open to me. I have even been known to think this about myself. I am incredibly cautious. I think everything through. I know I am a deeply emotional person, so I tend to hold back and edit myself for a long time before I completely trust someone. The thing I've realized though is although I might never tell anyone (including myself) how invested I am in a relationship, the truth is I throw myself in all too fast. Guys, girls, potential lovers, new friends, it doesn't matter who it is. I fall hard and fast. And then it happens. I've entrusted my heart to this person and suddenly they look at me and say "What the hell are you doing? I never asked you for this." And then they drop it and leave it bruised and bleeding, covered in dust and the crud from the bottom of people's shoes. So I pick it up and clean it off and stitch the wounds closed. And for a time I am careful, oh so incredibly careful. Eventually though the stitches come out, and even though the wounds are still scabby and tender, I think to myself, "Hey, I'm all better now." And I promptly turn around and hand my heart to the next person. And the cycle starts all over again. I've been left with an incredibly beat up heart. And yet I find myself actively searching for someone I can give it to. Maybe I'm an idiot. Maybe I'm a masochist. But maybe, just maybe, I'm hoping that the next person I give it to will look at it, see the scars, take it and wrap it in beautifully soft cloth and keep it somewhere safe. Maybe they will be able to take better care of it than me.

So, here's the story of this blog. It is a bit more personal than I tend to get on here. I always try and be honest with you guys, but sometimes I hesitate to put anything too detailed on here. I wrote this at two in the morning, so it's definitely a bit...earnest. Everything always seems so intense in the middle of the night. Last week I typed this all up, selected a picture, went to post it...and stopped myself. Just so everyone knows: I am perfectly fine. I have some seriously wonderful friends and a family who loves me a lot. I am blessed with many relationships in my life where I am cared for in an incredible manner. However, I find that when one person hurts you it is easy to forget about all of those good relationships. It takes a lot of peope to compensate for that one abuse. I am constantly amazed that despite having been hurt I still search and hope for love in all its forms. I think that's a good thing though. I think it makes me human.

I took this picture over Thanksgiving weekend in my mom's garden. A bunch of rose buds had come out on one of her bushes just before frost started showing up and kind of petrified in this state. I thought they were gorgeous in all of their decaying glory.

Heart Screams

And you taught me what this feels like.
And then how it feels to lose it.
And you showed me who I wanted.
And then who I wasn't.
And you ticked every box.
And then drew a line.
And you weren't mine to begin with.
And then not to end with.
And you looked like everything I wanted.
And then became something I hated.
And you get thought of every day.
And then not in a good way.
And you let me leave.
And then wish I'd stayed.
And you almost killed me.
But I didn't die.


This is another total repost from I Wrote This For You. Even the photo is inspired by the post. If you haven't ever checked out I Wrote This For You, go now. Read it. I am completely enamoured with it. Beautiful pictures. Proufound words. Truly beautiful. I've adored this particular post for quite some time now. I think the most incredible quality of I Wrote This For You is the ability of the authour to capture in words exactly what people are feeling. Sometimes you read one of the posts and your heart screams because it has just seen itself in the written word. This was one of those posts for me.

This picture is a couple of years old. I took it the last time I was out at Lake Wabamun. Obviously I've manipulated it a bit on the computer. I really like how it turned out though.

I love the places I ain't ever been to

Down in the Valley

The Head and the Heart

I wish a was a slave to an age-old trade

Like riding around on railcars

And working long days

Lord have mercy on my rough and rowdy ways

Lord have mercy on my rough and rowdy ways

Call it one drink to many

Call it pride of a man

It don't make no difference if you sit or you stand

They both end in trouble and start with a grin

They both end in trouble and start with a grin

We do it over and over and over again

We do it over and over and over again

Oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh

Oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh

Oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh

I know there's California, Oklahoma

And all of the places I ain't ever been to

But down in the valley

With whiskey rivers

These are the places you will find me hiding

These are the places I will always go

These are the places I will always go

I am on my way

I am on my way

I am on my way back to where I started

Oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh

One more for the stars and the eyes of the walls

I saw your face, I heard you calling out

Oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh

I saw your face in the crowd and you came out

Just like the sun and the moon and the stars at night

There was a sign on the door and it reads to me

Just like the sun and the moon and the stars at night

Oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh

I am on my way

I am on my way

I am on my way back to where I started

California, Oklahoma

I love the places I ain't ever been to

But down in the valley

With whiskey rivers

These are the places you will find me hiding

These are the places I will always go

These are the places I will always go

So I wish I was a slave to an age-old trade

Lord have mercy on my rough and rowdy ways

I have seriously been loving this song lately. It's by a band out of Seattle called The Head and the Heart. I am lusting after their CD right now. Such a great folk rock/pop sound and I adore the lead singer's voice. There is so much going on in this song that resonates with different parts of my life. Sometimes the idea of jumping on a train and taking off is so appealing. The feeling of actually going somewhere is one of my favourite sensations. It's why I love airports so much. I think my favourite line in the entire song though is "I love the places I ain't ever been to". This is so true for me. I fantasize about travelling or moving all the time. I have a deep affection for some places that I've only been to once, some places that I have never been to at all. In a way these places can be the places you always go, they can become the places you return to over and over again when you are in need of refuge, even if you never actually set foot on them. Sometimes just thinking about running away is enough.

I took this picture at the train yard near my school a couple of years ago. I should actually venture out there again and take some more photos. This is one perk of living in the industrial part of the city: there are some interesting spots to take photos. There is something romantic and nostalgic about trains that just lends itself to sepia photos and folksy songs.

Yes, I'm still alive

You know how sometimes life throws you curveballs? Well the past couple weeks it seems like that is all I've been getting. Sometimes curveballs just throw you off balance for a bit. Sometimes though they smack you in the face and you end up crumpled on the ground with a broken nose. Those are the kinds of curveballs I've been getting. Sorry about the lack of presence here, but I neither had the time nor the motivation to post anything. I tried a couple of times. I sat down at the computer and opened my photos and tried to find something to post. I actually wrote one, but it ended up sounding a little too depressed for me to want to post it. Perhaps I will put it up one day though. Anyway, I am hoping that I will be back to regularly scheduled programing on here now. This week is a bit nutso for me so I can't promise anything, but I am going to make a concerted effort to be back on here.

Anyway, I just wanted to take a second on here to thank the people that have made me laugh the past couple of weeks. Even though they were pretty rotten by and large there were moments where I laughed harder than I have in a long time. I've had classes of uproarious laughter, moments of complete ridiculousness in the student publications office, laughter over meals with my family...there have been some brilliant moments. So thank you for being the bright sunflowery spots in my rather disgusting weeks.

WARNING: FRAGILE

I am far more delicate than you can possibly imagine. You need to move slowly.

This is a blatent repost from I Wrote This For You. I adore that blog. And after the week I had last week this was just too perfect a sentiment to pass up.