This is my favourite tree. It stands near a little bend along the Red River at Fort Dufferin. This is where my Mennonite forefathers first stepped off the steamship after immigrating to Canada from Russia in the late 1800's. They say this tree is the first thing they saw when they stepped onto dry land. (Do the math. If it was this big back then...well, anyway, it's way over 150 years old.) Who knows? My great-great grandparents may have gazed up at its splendid branches and marvelled at how they shamelessly reached for the sky. They must have been burdened with tired, hungry children and trunks filled with supplies to get them through the long winter to come. But I like to think that just looking at this amazing tree gave them strength.

Doing things afraid

I used to think you had to wait until you felt brave to face your fears. When that moment came, the heavens would open and a mighty voice would say, "Now! Do it now!" Except I've never been one of those people wise enough or blessed enough to hear that mighty voice. I've always had to wing it with every major decsion in my life. And then, when it became apparent that I'd really made a bad choice, I'd imagine this mighty voice would roar, "I told you not to do that!" Except, he didn't. He never made a sound.
I've never really felt like God was guiding me. Never felt like I was being led. It's always later, in retrospect, that I see where I went wrong and where I really could have used a little advice from the master of the universe.
Why does he wait? Why doesn't he just hold up a sign with directions in bold print, telling us precisely whom to marry, how many kids to have, which house to buy, which job to take?
All those major life decisions, based on our feeble, short-sighted knowledge, and the Lord of the world with omniscient wisdom holds out on us. What's up with that? Does he get some sick pleasure from watching us goof up?
It seems to me that he wants us to do things afraid. He wants us to step out on that thin ice, not knowing which spot will find us plunging into the frosty water. If every step was measured and directed, let's face it, we wouldn't listen anyway. We humans are a reckless, rebellious bunch. We can't love someone who orders us around. We balk at that. So, the one who wants our love the most stands by and waits, ready to swoop in to comfort us when we mess up.
So, I do things afraid and wait for the courage to come from my sense of accomplishment and for the strength to come from defeat.
But when I succeed, even though I can't hear his voice, I swear I can hear his applause.

Alice doesn't live here anymore....

I came across an old journal of mine the other day.
It was from about 20 years ago. It reads a bit like Bridget Jones Diary, you know, the listing of current weight and goal weight. The recrimination and promises to repent from all bad habits. The wistful musing about broken dreams, Prince Charmings who have lost their charm and the constant conflict between what you want and what you need.
And as I read this little tome, I realized I don't know that girl anymore.
The current girl has her head on a lot straighter. Sure, she would love to weigh the "before" weight now. (130 lbs!!! Was I nuts???) And she still needs to repent of all of her bad habits (Sadly, they have multiplied.) Her dreams still need some Super Glue, and Prince Charming no longer exists.
I'm not so sure he ever did.
But she stopped caring about the difference between what she wants and what she needs. She's realized (okay, no more talking in the third person...I'm starting to sound like a certain psychotic I used to know) that the closer you get to being your authentic self, the less defined the line between need and want becomes.
Nope. Alice doesn't live here anymore.
I think if she popped in for a visit, I'd tolerate her quiet, unassuming presence for a while. I'd maybe give her some coffee and a bit of cheesecake. I'd encourage her to like who she sees in the mirror (because it just don't get any better, baby!) and stop letting people walk all over her. I'd tell her to trust and respect herself, to boldly seek out what she wants and not let anyone tell her how selfish she's being.
And then I'd show her the door, because I think she'd drive me a little crazy.

I need a snow day...

I have six kids. Yep. I am not kidding. Pick your jaw up off the floor. In this modern day and age, no one has more than two kids - maybe three if you just can't control yourself. But six???
But they are my pride and joy and I would not have missed a single moment with any of them, even if that meant a few less stretch marks, more sleep, and quite a few less pounds.
Two of my chicks have already flown from my disorganized nest to nests of their own. That leaves four lovely boys to brighten each and every day of my life. They are 17 down to 7, each with their own abilities and hostilities. They leave a trail of dirty socks and brownie crumbs wherever they go.
And this morning, just as they were heading out the door to run to the school bus, I found out school was cancelled. The streets were like skating rinks in our small town, and apparently in every town across the province. Even those hefty yellow buses didn't want to brave them.
There is no joy in the world that can compare to the joy in a home when school is cancelled. You can give me a lottery win, a new baby, a romantic proposal or a free trip to the Bahamas, but nothing, and I mean nothing, compares to that overwhelming sense of "My life is gooood!!!" as when school is called off for the day. Some kids head back to bed, but others just want to shlep around the house in their jammies, basking in a free day from the Universe. Time stands still on a snow day. You can dig into the lunch mom made you the night before. You can watch cartoons you haven't watched since you started Kindergarten. You can play video games to your heart's content.
And you can watch a very sad, jealous mom wave goodbye as she heads off to work. No snow days at the office, I'm afraid. Business as usual. "Don't worry, mom," they say. "We won't burn the house down."
"I know, but can you get them to cancel work?"
The roads are still icy as I write this post. Will school be cancelled again tomorrow?
Will my office call and say all the hydro is off because of ice on the lines and it wouldn't pay for me to come in??
Only in my dreams.

I'm as genuine as my hair colour....

My quest is to be authentic and true to myself.

It always has been.

As one writer said, "Let your inner and your outer man (woman) be as one." I strive to find that harmony between who I am and who I want to be.

But what do you do when your inner woman is a peaceful and introspective soul who loves Enya and green tea, and your outer woman is a raging, hormonal, coffee-swilling lunatic who has Metallica and Simon and Garfunkel side by side on her playlist?

And sometimes, these women change places.

People see a sweet, smiling lady who loves babies and kittens, greeting people in the mall, while inside I just want to "shoot the whole day down."

What do you do when the rest of the world just won't cooperate with what you define as the perfect world? Or when you've reinvented yourself so often, no one really knows who you are anymore?

You have to embrace crazy.

You learn to love and accept whoever you are on a given day.

Even when your jeans don't fit, or your job sucks, or your bank account is empty, or you're not getting along with your family. Even when people expect you to be perfect and the only perfect thing about you is...nothing.

Even when Laura Ingalls can't find her way back to her little house on the prairie.

You embrace the fact that nothing ever goes the way you want it to and people are never who you expect them to be.

That's the key to survival.

Or maybe not.

I'll let you know.