Progress Fatigue

Change can be hard. Change can also be good. When those two truths collide , exhaustion can take over.

I am not a believer in New Year’s resolutions. In our house, we’ve been steadily working toward a more sustainable life. I don’t mean sustainability in the sense of self-sufficiency. I am speaking more in terms of attainability.

We decided to grow a garden this year to offset our expenses. Living on Vancouver Island produce is very expensive, especially when out of season. Just this week one head of cauliflower was 7.99 at the grocery store. When the minimum wage is 12.65 an hour it’s unsustainable (unattainable) to eat nutritious fresh food. Items that were priced in the 2 to 3 dollar range were 5 to 8 dollars on our trip to replenish today.

Though we have to fork out 200.00 for the lumber and likely 300.00 for the proper soil, we will save up to 5000.00 this summer alone. I’m tired from spending money to save money, but I know the end result will be worth it all.

Likewise, there are three people with a uterus in our home. This means spending around 60.00 a month on menstrual products. Instead, we invested nearly 300.00 in reusable pads and period underwear from https://lunapads.ca  This will save us thousands of dollars in the years to come. The best thing about Luna Pads (aside from being local, environmentally friendly, machine washable, and trans inclusive) is their commitment to providing period products to people in underprivileged countries.

With eating fresh veggies from the garden we needed to invest in ways to make the familiar interesting. I don’t know about you, but I get tired of eating the same thing over and over again. Thankfully Epicure has many solutions (that after an initial investment) save money over time. For example, veggie broth costs 2 to 4 dollars a carton here. One jar of all natural powdered broth is 10 to 12 dollars depending on the type. I can make 60 or more dishes from the one jar effectively saving myself 226.00 annually for that one item.

I’ve had to let go of convenience to save money. Returning to baking bread, making granola bars, canning fruits, veggies and pickles. A call back to my mother’s and grandmother’s recipe boxes while employing modern time saving techniques like a magic bullet, a smart chopper and an instant pot. All these initial investments hurt the cheque book, but are worth it in the annual savings. The amount we’re spending to reboot an attainable life style will refund itself in less than the time it takes to grow a squash.

I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t hurt my heart a little to spend money in large chunks. I prefer to pinch as many pennies as I can. I budgeted to include student loan payments for next year and realized the defict in our two incomes was the EXACT amount we were paying for groceries. Aside from a Netflix subscription, half a dozen movies and a pizza addiction, we don’t have many non-essential spending habits. The only change we can make is to reevaluate how we source our goods, where we get our essentials, and try to cut costs that way.

It is not attainable or sustainable to work two to three jobs to cover the cost of living. We do not go on extravagant vactions. We have one car that my partner brought brand new 20 years ago. We do not have cable or air conditioning. We don’t go to the bar regularly or attend concerts or other forms of live entertainment. We, like so many other people, are living simply and barely making it.

How do you live an attainable life?

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What do you call a writer that doesn’t write?

For the last few months I’ve barely been able to catch up on life duties. We’ve all been there. Work, volunteer commitments, friendships and relationships new, old and budding. All of those events eat away our time. As finite beings, bound by the 24 hour clock, we can easily lose days, weeks, months, and sometimes years before we take the time to do the things that fill us up.

I’ve been challenged, with noble intent, by fellow writers in my community at my lack of wordsmithery. “Write a little each day, even if it’s not for sharing.” “Take time to write Cheryl.” “Have you been writing?”

Though I’ve not been writing, words, stories and concepts have been floating around in my brain. It’s almost as if I have TOO much in my heart and on my mind to make sense of it all. Though I am in the middle of an intense busy season, the events filling up my calendar are also filling up my heart. It begs the question, what do you call a writer that doesn’t write?

  1. Dreamer—Half finished poems and post-it notes clutter the piles of papers in my living room and bedroom. The poems are unfinished because the experiences informing them are still in progress. I imagine, when the Fall University Semester commences in just seven short weeks, I will have endless inspiration to draw from for my portfolio.
  2. Introspective—As a verbal processor, I see my emotions as a heap of jumbled words within my heart and mind. It’s essential to spend time untangling and sorting these words into the proper places in my internal storage space. (God I sound like a nerd.) With the new experiences and directions, I am taking the time to create space within myself, and my life, to place the moments and memories I am collecting. I suppose a photographer collects photos and sorts them, the geologist rocks and precious stones, the artist images and media—as a writer, I collect words, phrases and metaphors; all contained inward.
  3. Avoidant—The downside of enjoying oneself this much, I don’t want to stop, sit and write. Some folks can take a notebook or device with them and write wherever they are. I am not so lucky. I crave, NEED, down time to let down my guard, open the gate, and write from a place of vulnerability. I get flustered, almost a flight or fight response, when something interrupts this process. As a result, I avoid sitting and opening that avenue. Out of fear of being caught in a tender and raw place, I collect more moments, memories, and words than I can hope to handle like a hummingbird greedily syphoning a sugar feeder.

There you have it. I am an avoidant introspective dreamer who, on my best days, is a writer, and on my worst, a hot mess. Being absent from writing is a direct result from being present in long dormant portions of my life. Once I figure out this heap of heart words, you’ll hear much more from me. Until then, keep in touch and tell your stories.

 

If you want to write for Grey Matters, visit the contact us page to add your voice.

When Thursday is a Monday

We’ve all been there before. Doing something that makes us sigh at our humanity. It keeps us humble and reminds us that sometimes we just don’t have it all together.

The holidays are a hard time for me. It’s dark out almost the whole say, thanks Canada. I am far away from my family that I haven’t seen in going on three years, even more than that for my brother–whom I’d like to say was my childhood best friend and I do not take that for granted. I don’t have the ability to be as generous as I would like to. My brain is exhausted from school and all the work I put in to be my best.

Needless to say when I pour the unground beans into the coffee filter making coffee this morning, I let out a sigh and almost cried. My exasperation was heard by my roommate on the other side of our modest apartment–and I poured the beans from the filter to the grinder and mumbled “I obviously need coffee more than I thought”.

I’ve lost the ambition to clean my house, because I don’t have the finances to host anyone. Showering and putting on pants today was my victory.

During this time of year, it’s easy to forget in all the fun and events those among us who have aching hearts. I miss my son whom was taken from me before his life got to start. I miss the mountains of my childhood, the children that call me auntie, and the familiarness of a place called home.

To cheer myself up, I started to think of all the things I am thankful for. I urge you to give it a try. Here’s my list:

  1. A Warm House– This might seem trivial. Lately, it’s been colder than normal on Canada’s West Coast. I have a warm house, with a warm bed, and a cupboard full of tea. There are many in Nanaimo who are trying to get by this winter on the street. They are literally freezing. I am thankful for enough support to remain housed and I’m thankful.
  2. My Roommate– Our friendship is deeper than that of most roommates. Part of it is that we are both followers of Jesus, but there’s more. We take care of one another. We allow space for brokenness as we both struggle through life with mental illness and trying to function in a world that isn’t kind to those who cannot work full-time and go to school. She blesses me more than anyone I’ve ever lived with, and in less than a year we’ve become family and I’m thankful.
  3. The LGBTQ+ Community– They accept my contradictory nature. I love Jesus; many of my rainbow friends have been deeply hurt in the name of Christ and I am no exception. Yet, they do not fault me for my faith. There is a deep respect in this family of misfits and I do not take it for granted. The group here in Nanaimo holds some of my greatest champions. They help me to get out of bed some days and give me an outlet for my creative side and I’m thankful.
  4. Young Adult’s Group– I attend a very open, accepting and loving Young Adult’s Group that is groundbreaking in their inclusion of myself as a LGBTQ+ person of faith. I’ve never been judged or limited in my ministry by them. The leaders of the group have endeavoured to create a safe place for me, including a no-tolerance of abuse mandate. I will never take for granted the bravery to stand with me when many church leaders do not and I’m thankful.
  5. Outreach– There are pastors and friends in the community whom build me up emotionally, spiritually and even financially. They’ve helped me through a very dark period of my faith journey. It would’ve been easy for me to give up on the church after some of the abusive actions toward me. These folks have reminded me that we are all human, we all fail at loving one another, but grace allows for a better way and I’m thankful.
  6. My Family– Though we are a total mess, though there are not many of us that are even speaking to one another, my mom and brother have helped me in this past year. It speaks to the healing that comes with maturing over time. We are there for one another as best as we can be and I’m thankful.

By no means is this an exhaustive list, but it sure takes the blow out of the silly humbling things I do each day. It reminds me to look forward and not dwell on the little tedious circumstances that threaten to steal my joy. What about you? What are you thankful for?

~Cheryl

Sexual Harassment is Not a Compliment

Women, and even some men, you’ve likely heard it before. You share an experience with friends that makes you uncomfortable–someone hollering at you on the street, sending you rude unsolicited messages on social media, or sexualizing you. You pour your heart out expecting support, expecting them to be horrified with you, expecting validation and you get something entirely different. Here’s my top three pet peeve responses. Add yours in the comments.

  1. “You should take it as a compliment.”

Should I take it as a compliment when someone I don’t know shouts at me from a moving vehicle while I am on my way to work? How would you feel if you were out with your spouse or child and someone hollered at them? If the response is different than “take it as a compliment”, we have a problem. Somehow it has become freedom of speech to sexually harass people. Cat-calling is not a compliment. It’s dehumanizing. If you want to get to know me and tell me I am beautiful, do just that. If you like my dress, say you like my dress. If you like my hair, say you like my hair. Don’t drive by me shouting “NICE DRESS” from a car. It compromises my safety as I am walking across a street, and it makes me feel objectified in a way casual conversation does not.

2. “Give them some credit, it’s hard to put yourself out there.”

I know it’s hard to put yourself out there. I think about it everyday when I choose what to wear and whether or not to put on make up. For me, and millions like me, our mere leaving the house is putting ourselves out there. It seems that we walk around with targets on our backs and foreheads asking to be objectified. No, I do not want to give you my number. No, it should not be an insult where by expletives are hurled at me. No, I do not want you to tell me over and over how pretty I am until I cave and give into your request. Not only are you making people uncomfortable, you are reinforcing that they are an object for sex and not a person. We want people to want us, not our bodies only. We want to be understood. I have a brain, and the most attractive thing you can do is engage with it.

3. “What were you wearing?”

This is the absolute worst one. IT DOESN’T MATTER. Seriously! Make-up, no make-up, pants, dress, shaved, not shaved—doesn’t matter. I’ve been told I was “asking for it” because I have pink hair, large bust and was in a dress…was I also asking for it when I was wearing sweat pants, a hoodie and a hat? Or perhaps I was asking for it when I was waiting for a bus at 2pm? Perhaps that guy who told me that I “looked like a Lesbian” thought I was asking for it because my hair is short and I have a vagina…but seriously…no one asks for it. The culture of entitlement needs to be stopped. The culture of rape and hyper sexualization needs to be stopped.

Treat humans like humans. If you see someone being obtrusive, speak out. If you’re too uncomfortable to confront them, pretend you’re best friends with the person that they’re abusing. We need to stick together to end the verbal and physical violence against others. I’m not keeping quiet anymore and neither should you.

 

~Cheryl

Writer Wednesdays: Your Voice

Think of the stories that you tell your friends and family. What triggers you to share? I can think of three main reasons I share my experiences with others. Moving forward, I would like to formally invite you to consider a moment or some moments in your life that need to be share with others.

These moments could be tragic. These moments could be hopeful. They could bring laughter or they could bring tears. Most importantly, these moments are truthful.

What are the three reasons I share stories from my life?

  • I share stories to give encouragement

There are times in my life that have been straight out of a Law and Order: SVU episode. I grew up in rough circumstances. My choices as a teen were destructive. My young adult life has been plagued by trials, grief, illness and shame.

Yet, God has brought me through. I am an overcomer by nature and my blood type is resilience. If I can share who I once was in light of who I am now–my voice matters–it gives people hope.

  • I share stories to bring abundant laughter.

I’m hilarious. It’s true. Sometimes, I forget how funny I am. People get used to me. Then, I’ll be out at an event or in public and I’ll say or do something that’s classically Cheryl–and people will choke from laughter.

When life tries to suck the joy out of you, when all the news is bad news, when people seem to be negative for no reason–humour aptly placed can bring life. Just think of how much time we spend (waste) laughing at memes or watching Youtube videos. Laughter is the best medicine for many things.

  • I share stories to create understanding.

“What’s the big deal?” & “Lighten up.” are two phrases you wouldn’t expect are spoken to someone as laid back and hilarious as myself. Fact is, I hear them more often than is comfortable. You see, I’ve seen a lot. I’ve had a lot of hurts and I’ve helped a lot of broken people.

We might not know why something is important until someone tells us how it impacted them. Casually mentioned atrocities can cause deeps wounds in those around us and retraumatize them without our knowledge.

This is where you come in. Your voice, your story, your humour, your experiences can make the differences in the lives around you.

If you’ve ever thought to yourself “you have no idea”, here’s your chance to give the world an idea–a new perspective. Who knows, you just might change a life.

~Cheryl