i knew i loved this space.

i just didn't reilize how much

until this morning

when

for some reason

unkown to me

i was logged out

and unable to log back in.

hannah tried. gideon tried.

i kept that sensless trying that you know isn't going to help

but you do it anyway,

feeling yourself get all worked up and upset.

yup.

i had visions of never blogging again.

of losing my story

that i have so vulnerably typed away here in this space.

i, of course,

imagined

disapointing people

by not showing up.

oh ,it was pretty classic

tania.

then i stepped away.

decided that my life would indeed continue

blog or no blog

and besides, i needed to get myself together

i am having company any moment now.

how would i be able to explain my frenzy

over something as simple and replaceable as a blog.

of course, stepping away always helps solve the problem at hand

and here i am.

good as new.

heart rate has returned to normal and i am happily

pounding out my thoughts. 

so what i reilized

is that this is a valuable place for me.

it serves a purpose in my life

and has a role to play.

thank you for joining me.

oh! i also figured out how to respond to comments..

finally,

so if you do leave comments..i can respond!

yay!

and for those of you who don't have accounts,

you can always leave comments as annonymous and just add your name to your comment

(just in case you didn't know, like i didn't)

aha! moment number 2

(from my journal entry..jan 31)

i've been doing it all for you.

i'm ready for it to be about me.

you,

being all of you who love me so much.

owen, my kids, my family, owen's family, my friends,

the doctors.

the big players in my life and the small.

for all of you

but

not for me.

now, just barely hatched-

is this new desire, need, want,

enthusiasm

(be it guarded and tired enthusiasm)

to get better for myself.

Because,

and this is pretty celebratory

i am excited for my life.

my future.

for my potential.

this is new.

"but this, we have all done this;

we bang and band on the door of hope,

and don't anyone dare suggest there's no one home"

-barbara kingslover-

grateful for so much...

the sun shone so brightly this morning, john did a kefir drop off for me, owen's daily call, meals planned out so i don't have to think so much this week, powerful friendship stories.

dishes done, stew bubbling, sunshine burning through the clouds, my mom driving me to treatment, hannah's positive feedback on her english assignments, having a very talented husband who can snake drains, a happy hannah.

laughing and singing in the car, a kiss! a spontaneous kiss! company for couch sitting, the calming that comes from scissors, paper and glue, owen making it home safely at the end of a work day, knowing at some level that this upset within me is just the medicine talking, feeling baby in Dorothea's tummy.

power came back on in time for the start of the day, the sound of small ones playing in the neighbourhood, glorious blue sky and sunshine, berry tea, library outing, suprise tea date with jenn, warm sun through the windows.

mail from a friend, we are a team, our bed is so warm, hot baths, reading poetry, discovering the fun of the second draft with a thesaurus beside me, the girl chose to listen.

blueberries in kefir, the ritual of morning tea and coffe, owen has a home day, all the beds are full, time spent with a dear friend, steaks marinating for the men, a Tejan visit, root veggie chips, poetry date night.

therapeutic journaling, gid went for a run, a very quiet house, the lost was found, watching BABIES, laughing, the dishwasher worked today.

she got up on her own, talking things out with Gid is always good, a clean kitchen, ate applesauce, clean slipcovers, discovered Julie daniluck, picked up a yoga brochure, sister chats while driving to East Sooke, yoga.

post yoga muscles, a bubble bath in the middle of the afternoon, sally ann finds, new babies, brave acts all over the place.

honeybees, tea notes, people who save seeds, new inspiration, sudden backyard blanket party, cotton ball clouds, art journaling, the talking of the chickens, driving time with Gid.

this is on my mind these days.

i am finding those place.

the places that are filled with affirming life.

i have felt a huge shift.

an awakening

a connection.

with myself.

just in the past 3 days..

it keeps growing and doesn't want to stop.

my journal is full of brave words and exclamation points!

    my steps feel lighter than they have in  a while.

this is good. so good.

and i am so grateful.

"did you have to take time off work to come here today?"

and i wasn't sure how to answer that question.

i remember when i was a young mom,

homeschooling my kiddos and inevitably

people who crossed my path would ask what i did.

hmm..it was pretty easy to answer then.

four kids. lots to do. they were young.

it was a full time job.

(it still is a full time job)

then for a long season,

 i had many many jobs out there in the world

and  i would be able to answer the qustion simply.

and didn't have time to go to appointments it seemed.

now,

however..

what is is i do.

what is my work

and how do i explain a year of rest to a stranger

or a receptionist

who is just making polite curious conversation.

 she doesn't want or need to know the real reason i am off work.

those details aren't much fun to share.

so i got to thinking.

if i were brave enough this is what i would say.

i work for the department of hope.

full time.

my office supplies are paints, glue, paper, stamps, little gifts that fit in envelopes, secret messages, mail, lots of mail, tea, and books. i use alot of journals as well. and pens. super great collection of pens in my office.

the department of hope is located

everywhere.

in the car, in bed, at the library, in the garden, starbucks, the blue chair, the kitchen counter, the floor. wandering the forest trails or sandy beach edges.

i have a portable office

i would say.

my job is pretty fantastic. i pretty much spend the day being hopeful.

spreading hope. believing in hope. seeking hope. talking to myself about hope.

wearing hope on necklaces, painting birdies of hope.

 writing about what  hopeful looks like and how it appears when  i feel no hope at all,

just to discover that i still have my job the next morning and i start being hopeful all over again.

somedays it's all about me

and other days it's all about you.

spreading hope.

that's what my job this year is i will say.

( of course that isn't what i said. i told her something about being sick, needing a year off..etc..it felt awkward and messy and too narrow a picture to paint of me. That's why i decided i needed a job description )

feel free to add to it if you wish.

this is just the first draft.

oh January

you have been good to me

this first month of a sparkly new year.

there has been much gratitude.

and so much fun.

there was fresh  snow

and wonderful dates

to share with loved ones.

there have been many lessons learned

and a whole lot of hot tears.

journals written and painted and glued in

balance sought and sometimes found.

more pain than i have experienced during this journey

and an understanding of some of the many  gifts that are being given to me.

i dabbled in poetry

and we rearranged our house.

i continue to work away at my resolutions.

i feel that today,

after emerging from six long days of pain

that January has been more than i could have hoped for.

i am learning to slowly embrace this year and all that it holds for me.

there has been this crazy bouncing from solid to shaky

back to solid again

because i am seeing that

when i am fatigued everything is louder...you know?

the wonderful and the hard.

just louder.

i am striving to listen.

January has begun to teach me how.

finding the good.

reframing

what i also call,

"finding the good"

looks like this these days...

when you walk downstairs and find your white slipcovered couch splattered with spagetti sauce

you decide, instead of freaking out,

 "what great motivation to wash the slip covers..i hate that job but now i have to do it- yay!"

when you hear comings and going at all hours of the night

you use the next morning to have a firm chat and re establish the hours of acceptable comings and goings with your favorite man-boy.

the house should be quiet after 10 from now on if all goes according to plan.

when you need to sit and have an IV in your arm for 3 hours or so,

you use that opportunity to catch up with your wonderful mother

and rest in the quiet of not having to do anything..

because you can't...you're kinda stuck there.

when you haven't any energy, have been crying most of the day and reilize it's date night,

so you grab your poetry books, turn down the lights and read to each other

and find it to be the funnest night of the week.

when your daughter homeschools and spends all day with you

it is okay to occasionally let her sleep in.

late, very late

so that you can have a quiet morning to do absolutly nothing at all.

when even though yesterday was the hardest day ever,

you look at your gratefulness list that has become so habitual that you forget you are doing it sometimes

and you see all sorts of blessings and wonder on the pages.

and you remember that you actually are very fond of winding rivers

and mucking about in boats.

if you look hard enough

the gift is always there.

i promise.