As I was going to bed last night, Mike assisting, after staying up a little late to blog, I thought that the day had been so fulfilling, so replete with authentic experience, that I could happily die with no regrets. Well, I didn’t die. I awoke to a day of more video taping in my winter coat under camera lights, more Farmville, more apple pie, and beautiful sunshine. The vision out of my lake facing window was just like so many of those Christmas card scenes with brilliant sun shining on neat and even tiny houses with perfectly snow covered roof tops!
I got so tired today that I actually fell asleep momentarily during a pause in the taping. Just the same, finally, Michael, Sarah and I reached an ending to the play that we all are excited about. It is in the camera. The editing can happen. I do not have to travel with the play unless I want to.
At the same time I feel the pressure of how structured I am making my life again. Each of my chosen task areas could use whole days in and of themselves to “do” them with research and thoroughness. WPIT, painting, blogging, the ACF Inclusion Circle, travel and workshops, Wisdom Graduate Liaison, the Robert Cooke Coop, attending to the gifts and needs of my staff, not to mention the Individualized Funding envelope upon which we all depend, Farmville, time with my Dad, time watching pelicans and construction cranes – I can’t keep up with myself, and to just give each of them “a lick and a promise” (there’s my Mother again!) fills my day from 6:30am to 12:30am.
Yet I don’t seriously intend to change a thing. It’s all too rich!
A clone? Would it really give me “more time” or would I just expand to nearly burst two lives – not just one?
So often I feel like I never left off being four years old. I just want to play and eat. I do NOT want to go to bed no matter if I can’t stay awake long enough to get there. I want to get into everything, leave the messes to someone else and find out how everything works. And I never really mean to do harm.
Four is compelling and passionate, creative and fantastical, and NEVER reasonable. Four doesn’t have a style, a culture, a career, a financial plan, an ethic or a long memory. Four is optimistic. Four makes and loses friends easily, forgives easily and is easily forgiven. Four is able to bend a long, long way before breaking.
Four is also right on the edge of losing that openness, of becoming fearful, judgemental and certain, of narrowing the options and playing the game. It is nearly the moment to find out there is no Santa Claus.
Then it’s a long, long stretch until maybe, just maybe the adult becomes willing and able to be responsible for creating a world within which she and everyone she touches can be four again.
I want to be, and sometimes am, that adult. It is good!
Showing posts with label Robert Cooke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Cooke. Show all posts
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
December 15, 2010
I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this.
Childish, isn’t it?!?
It’s been one of those days. The good part was that I went to the pain clinic again and got to try a TENS machine. I was quite doubtful, but the 20 minutes I did spend on it were quite comfortable. I can see that it can be made easily portable. Perhaps it is a useful way to make travelling in airplanes doable again.
Other than that, Helen was sick, and because we only have cell phones around here, nobody knew until 15 minutes into her shift. It was a big disruption to Mike and then Peter jumped in. It’s been a long time since Peter did a day shift. Basically I was pretty tired by the time his 6 hours were up. He was going to go out but he was tired too and fell asleep. Then Mike got stuck in a traffic jam and I was alone, in pain again, for 2 hours.
I didn’t do the stuff I should have done. It reminds me of January when all I could do was sit and play Freecell because my brain was too bloody tired to imagine doing anything else. Probably I should just go to bed!
I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but I keep trying to make things work – to fix the broken systems. For years we’ve used a manual that we wrote ourselves, and that I update regularly, performance reviews at least once a year, sometimes more often, mentors for the staff, circle meetings, circle teleconferences, etc. In the end, things get fucked up just about as much as when I don’t bother. It probably would be a lot more helpful to me personally if I just accepted that things get fucked up. I haven’t been left stranded since about 1975, I haven’t died, I still have a home and don’t have to declare bankruptcy yet, lots of people admire my work and are inspired by me – and so far so good – I can still pay my staff. I can imagine that I could be satisfied. But I’m not! I’m grumpy!
I think it’s the money thing. I have written about it before a couple of times. Money used to come quite easily to me even though I took no particular pains to hang on to it. Now, it’s always a one month to the next thing. Largely I am very successful. 15 months in this apartment and the rent has been paid on time each and every month. Just the same, I get anxious when I can’t see beyond two weeks from now. I feel like I’ve lost my luck or my nerve or something. I get brought down by that funny feeling that somehow I’m not carrying my weight. I am, but I don’t feel like it.
It’s ridiculous and I know it and I’m almost ashamed to admit it. However, the weight is there in my head, in my words, in my language, in my thinking and in other people’s way of thinking and it has somehow crept into me.
It is my intention to not pay any more attention to it, and in fact to create something much more empowering. It is my intention to be at peace, and not brought down by this invented sense of scarcity.
At the same time, there is work to be done to find and/or raise the money that I need, and I’m not doing the work. That is what must change. That is what I am committed to.
Change is kind of a sneaky beast. I was looking out my bedroom window at about 11:15 this morning, waiting for Caleb to pick up his glasses that he left here two weeks ago. The crane that is between New Toronto St. and the GO Train tracks began to move west at a stately but ponderous rate – probably about 5 km/hour. It became apparent that it is also on one of the train tracks. Very slowly I was able to see that people were harnessing one of those very large grey cubes that look like a modular section of a prefab building. The “stevedores” raised the cube – maybe 3 feet – and then nothing happened for a good half hour. Was it lunch break? I had to leave and when I returned at about 3:30 the cube was gone, the crane was still sitting there, and there is no way that I can tell what happened. I will just have to keep on watching.
Will I master money in such a slow and invisible way? Will I wake up one morning and realize that I’m fully funded for my personal assistants forever, that I have an equally beautiful condo that has a similar view in the same neighbourhood that is fully paid for, that I am able to be generous with friend and stranger alike? So be it!
Childish, isn’t it?!?
It’s been one of those days. The good part was that I went to the pain clinic again and got to try a TENS machine. I was quite doubtful, but the 20 minutes I did spend on it were quite comfortable. I can see that it can be made easily portable. Perhaps it is a useful way to make travelling in airplanes doable again.
Other than that, Helen was sick, and because we only have cell phones around here, nobody knew until 15 minutes into her shift. It was a big disruption to Mike and then Peter jumped in. It’s been a long time since Peter did a day shift. Basically I was pretty tired by the time his 6 hours were up. He was going to go out but he was tired too and fell asleep. Then Mike got stuck in a traffic jam and I was alone, in pain again, for 2 hours.
I didn’t do the stuff I should have done. It reminds me of January when all I could do was sit and play Freecell because my brain was too bloody tired to imagine doing anything else. Probably I should just go to bed!
I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but I keep trying to make things work – to fix the broken systems. For years we’ve used a manual that we wrote ourselves, and that I update regularly, performance reviews at least once a year, sometimes more often, mentors for the staff, circle meetings, circle teleconferences, etc. In the end, things get fucked up just about as much as when I don’t bother. It probably would be a lot more helpful to me personally if I just accepted that things get fucked up. I haven’t been left stranded since about 1975, I haven’t died, I still have a home and don’t have to declare bankruptcy yet, lots of people admire my work and are inspired by me – and so far so good – I can still pay my staff. I can imagine that I could be satisfied. But I’m not! I’m grumpy!
I think it’s the money thing. I have written about it before a couple of times. Money used to come quite easily to me even though I took no particular pains to hang on to it. Now, it’s always a one month to the next thing. Largely I am very successful. 15 months in this apartment and the rent has been paid on time each and every month. Just the same, I get anxious when I can’t see beyond two weeks from now. I feel like I’ve lost my luck or my nerve or something. I get brought down by that funny feeling that somehow I’m not carrying my weight. I am, but I don’t feel like it.
It’s ridiculous and I know it and I’m almost ashamed to admit it. However, the weight is there in my head, in my words, in my language, in my thinking and in other people’s way of thinking and it has somehow crept into me.
It is my intention to not pay any more attention to it, and in fact to create something much more empowering. It is my intention to be at peace, and not brought down by this invented sense of scarcity.
At the same time, there is work to be done to find and/or raise the money that I need, and I’m not doing the work. That is what must change. That is what I am committed to.
Change is kind of a sneaky beast. I was looking out my bedroom window at about 11:15 this morning, waiting for Caleb to pick up his glasses that he left here two weeks ago. The crane that is between New Toronto St. and the GO Train tracks began to move west at a stately but ponderous rate – probably about 5 km/hour. It became apparent that it is also on one of the train tracks. Very slowly I was able to see that people were harnessing one of those very large grey cubes that look like a modular section of a prefab building. The “stevedores” raised the cube – maybe 3 feet – and then nothing happened for a good half hour. Was it lunch break? I had to leave and when I returned at about 3:30 the cube was gone, the crane was still sitting there, and there is no way that I can tell what happened. I will just have to keep on watching.
Will I master money in such a slow and invisible way? Will I wake up one morning and realize that I’m fully funded for my personal assistants forever, that I have an equally beautiful condo that has a similar view in the same neighbourhood that is fully paid for, that I am able to be generous with friend and stranger alike? So be it!
Monday, December 13, 2010
December 13, 2010
Those who know me well will recall that my apartment is exceptional in that it is designed to wrap around a stairwell. This gives me two south facing windows from which I can see several parks and Lake Ontario. I also get a north facing window from which I can see two highways, abandoned industrial land, a dozen or more train tracks, parts of three housing coops, several streets and two buildings under construction.
Now you may well imagine that I and my various visitors spend as much time as possible looking at the gorgeous waterfront vista. Not! Almost to a person folks admire the south view for about thirty seconds, walk through to my bedroom, lean on my bed (it’s set to its highest position) and start pointing out the curious things they see – from joggers proceeding along the lonely stretch of road beside the abandoned fields to planes landing at the Lester B. Pearson Airport more than fifteen miles away to massive construction cranes in motion putting up high rise condos.
I am reminded again and again that humans love to watch. My north bedroom is replete with watchable entertainment, and – better than TV – it’s all real.
When I moved in 15 months ago I somewhat reluctantly chose the north facing bedroom because it is much closer to the bathroom and gives my assistants more privacy with the activities around my personal care. With some awkwardness we placed my bed right under the window so I could look out during those frequent hours when I am not sleeping. I knew the first night here that I had made one of the best decisions of my life in coming to the Robert Cooke Housing Coop and in taking the north bedroom.
Night or day there is always something going on. For three days this weekend there were seven GO trains, stationary side-by-side, positioned one car ahead of the next. GO trains are green and white, and the engine car has a flying wing design. The seven side by side but spread out so all were visible at once was quite a sight. I imagine it was done to take advertising photographs!
About three weeks ago I began to notice that the area between the train tracks and North Toronto Street had about half a dozen curious boxy structures, two windows each, seemingly dropped down helter skelter. Of course for a few days I wasn’t sure if they really were newly arrived, or if I simply hadn’t noticed them before. By the third or fourth day it was clear each morning that there were a few more than had been there the night before.
Then began to arrive different boxes, similar but with clear differences. About a dozen are slightly larger and a somewhat darker, more greyish hue. Another dozen have doors as well as two windows.
For a few nights last week something projected an intense light - bright enough to make me squint - and I had to cover part of my window and give up some of my view so I could sleep! The light would come on around 11:00pm and was gone by 6:00am. Now it’s gone. Also the forty or so boxes are neatly stacked in two layers and in straight rows instead of scattered about.
What are they building so close to the train tracks? Do they intend to lift each box over the road into the abandoned field? Will this be an industrial condo or rental prefab? Is this merely a way station, and someday soon I will awaken at 4:00am to dimly view a train made up of flatbed cars being loaded to take this nascent building away?
Of course I could do some research, probably quite easily, and get answers. I could have stepped back into the advocate role and complained to my City Councillor about the night light disturbance. But I didn’t and I don’t.
I am simply loving to watch.
Now you may well imagine that I and my various visitors spend as much time as possible looking at the gorgeous waterfront vista. Not! Almost to a person folks admire the south view for about thirty seconds, walk through to my bedroom, lean on my bed (it’s set to its highest position) and start pointing out the curious things they see – from joggers proceeding along the lonely stretch of road beside the abandoned fields to planes landing at the Lester B. Pearson Airport more than fifteen miles away to massive construction cranes in motion putting up high rise condos.
I am reminded again and again that humans love to watch. My north bedroom is replete with watchable entertainment, and – better than TV – it’s all real.
When I moved in 15 months ago I somewhat reluctantly chose the north facing bedroom because it is much closer to the bathroom and gives my assistants more privacy with the activities around my personal care. With some awkwardness we placed my bed right under the window so I could look out during those frequent hours when I am not sleeping. I knew the first night here that I had made one of the best decisions of my life in coming to the Robert Cooke Housing Coop and in taking the north bedroom.
Night or day there is always something going on. For three days this weekend there were seven GO trains, stationary side-by-side, positioned one car ahead of the next. GO trains are green and white, and the engine car has a flying wing design. The seven side by side but spread out so all were visible at once was quite a sight. I imagine it was done to take advertising photographs!
About three weeks ago I began to notice that the area between the train tracks and North Toronto Street had about half a dozen curious boxy structures, two windows each, seemingly dropped down helter skelter. Of course for a few days I wasn’t sure if they really were newly arrived, or if I simply hadn’t noticed them before. By the third or fourth day it was clear each morning that there were a few more than had been there the night before.
Then began to arrive different boxes, similar but with clear differences. About a dozen are slightly larger and a somewhat darker, more greyish hue. Another dozen have doors as well as two windows.
For a few nights last week something projected an intense light - bright enough to make me squint - and I had to cover part of my window and give up some of my view so I could sleep! The light would come on around 11:00pm and was gone by 6:00am. Now it’s gone. Also the forty or so boxes are neatly stacked in two layers and in straight rows instead of scattered about.
What are they building so close to the train tracks? Do they intend to lift each box over the road into the abandoned field? Will this be an industrial condo or rental prefab? Is this merely a way station, and someday soon I will awaken at 4:00am to dimly view a train made up of flatbed cars being loaded to take this nascent building away?
Of course I could do some research, probably quite easily, and get answers. I could have stepped back into the advocate role and complained to my City Councillor about the night light disturbance. But I didn’t and I don’t.
I am simply loving to watch.
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