One Year In

 So here it is, one year later into the pandemic and COVID- 19 is still very much a part of our lives. 

But the good news is, the vaccine is ready and being put to arms. I'll get my first shot today. 

But what a year it's been! 

Some have done well, others not so much. 

But whether you thrive in lockdown conditions or not, there's no doubt that we're in COVID fatigue. Even I, with my love of being alone, find myself all "murdery". I'm quick to anger and have very little patience, particularly with anti-maskers and anti-vaxxers. 

This pandemic has shown the best but also the worst of people. I have grown tired of selfishness, of those who think that inconvenience is infringing on their rights. As if the right to infect others is their prerogative. Don't even get me started.. my eye is twitching again..

Nova Scotia has been handling this well. We wear masks and self -isolate (most of us anyway.. see above paragraph). Any sign of case numbers rising and we go into lockdown. No one likes it, but we do it (except for the fuckers) I'm proud to have a government that cares enough to be tough because some of the other provinces (I'm looking at you Alberta and Ontario) have completely fucked their citizens while trying to put the blame elsewhere.  

So what have I accomplished in the last year? 

Finish my novel? Nope

Learn a new skill? Nope

Hone an existing one? Negatory

Blog/write more? Clearly not. 

Clean out my house? A little but not as much as I could have given time and circumstance. 

I also sustained an injury and subsequent surgery that kept me immobile for a good part of 2020 so even though I technically had a summer off, there was little to do but recover. This year it seems I'll get a do-over as I don't expect we'll be back to capacity before Fall. And then I'll be ready to rejoin the humans. 

Maybe. 

Hopefully I'll be less murdery by then.  

an introvert's guide to self-isolation

These are strange times indeed.
A pandemic in the form of the COVID-19 virus has pushed the world indoors, separating us from others, and our "norm".  People are being advised to stay home, self-isolating, to protect ourselves and our most vulnerable.

As an introvert, this move is strangely comforting. I have been isolating for years. I call it "off people". For me, social interaction is difficult and draining. But parts of my career are very extroverted, so there is always the work to find a balance, to give what I can to job and community, while taking alone time at home or in nature.

But while there are those of us who are drained by social interaction, there are also those who thrive in social conditions and I'm sure that this sequestered time will be difficult. So, as a gold medalist in isolation, I can offer these tips to those faced with a fear of seclusion.

1. Give yourself permission to do nothing. 

It is important to acknowledge in these times that we are, in fact, grieving. There is fear in uncertainty which leaves us feeling helpless. It's okay to cocoon, to "Netflix and chill". Spring is coming and once this passes, we won't want to be indoors, so catch up on all those movies and series that you've had on your list. Or tackle that pile of books you've kept by the bed and have been too tired or busy to read.

2. Make a list. 

At some point we all grow restless and bored with just laying around, sleeping and watching TV. It is important, when you are ready, to get into a routine. I usually have an end time for the day. I try to work at things until at least 3 pm before I will watch a show, read or any other "leisure" activity. (It is important to note that I am an early morning person, so this is a full day)
Making a list is helpful; a list of all the things that need to be done. It doesn't mean I will get to everything, but I highlight one thing each day with the intention that "if only one thing gets done today, it will be this". That way I have a feeling of accomplishment and not feel like I'm wasting time. In cases like this we must remember that it is a marathon, not a sprint, so you don't have to rush to get it all done at once.

3. Take a shower and put on pants. 

This will come as a surprise to those who know me, as I am the Queen of No Pants, always looking forward to "Pants O'Clock". However, there is something to be said for not staying in your PJ's all day. That can easily lead to feeling depressed. Plus, you don't get the real appreciation of taking off your clothes at the end of the day, which is one of the best feelings in the world, to me.

4. Face-time with Friends and Family

Technology makes it easy to be social if you need it. Plus, we say we don't keep in touch because of our busy schedules, so this gives you no excuse to not catch up or be in touch. Now more than ever we need to check in on those we hold dear.


5. Get outside

Fresh air and exercise is crucial for physical and mental health. Social distancing in mind, give others a wide berth and do some yard work, clean off balconies, or visit a graveyard (easy to distance yourself in the cemetery). FYI - For those living in an apartment, remember that others share your common space so use wipes and gloves when handling railings and door handles.

6. Drink water

Staying healthy is important and making sure you are hydrated is one of the best pieces of advice. I like to drink from something that I know is a certain size, so I can monitor the amount and make sure I'm getting enough.

7. Open windows and hang blankets outside

Staying in the house for extended periods of time can make the air seem stale. Letting in fresh air (even on a chilly day) can freshen up your surroundings.If you have a place to leave your comforter, quilt or duvet, hang it out to freshen it up. It feels great when you crawl into it later.

can't wait to get this bad boy back on the bed

8. Try new recipes

Now is also a good time to make that recipe you've always wanted to try. Or peruse food sites to get ideas. A fun thing I like to do is Google recipes with ingredients that I have on hand, especially things I want to use up.

when life gives you lemons.. and limes.. and oranges.. make a citrus cheesecake! 

9. Play games 

There are plenty of sites with free games to distract yourself. Or if you have one, do a puzzle. Do anything that will help keep the mind sharp while entertaining yourself. If I'm working on something I usually take a 10 minute game break and play online scrabble or a word game.


10. Pamper yourself

Take a leisurely bath, give yourself a facial, manicure, pedicure. Use up those products that are lining the bathroom shelves.

These are simply 10 ideas to keep yourself occupied while in isolation. I could easily come up with 10 more, but this is a good place to start. Most importantly, look at this time as a gift instead of an inconvenience. Be creative. Be good to yourself. You've been given an opportunity to rediscover yourself in solitude. Embrace it.

If These Walls Could Speak

I live in a city that has a lot of history. Most cities do, I suppose, but ours is one that isn't that old, so it is easily traced. I've started spending time in the public archives, reading about times gone by, looking at photos of what used to be and what still remains.

How often I walk by places and wonder about their stories. Perhaps because my father built homes, I have a particular affinity for buildings. One of my favourites in Halifax is The Waverley, which is now a boutique Inn. I wrote a story which was published in the Chronicle Herald but in case those stories eventually go away, I thought I'd put it here as well.










THE HALIFAX WAVERLEY

If the walls of the Waverley Inn could talk, they would tell stories of grand parties,
interesting characters, ladies of leisure, ladies of the evening and even a ghost story or two.

In the city’s south end, The Waverley Inn stands as a beacon to a time long gone.
The bright yellow building is recognizable to many Haligonians as a landmark on
Barrington Street and its history is just as colourful.

When Halifax began, Barrington Street, from Spring Garden Road to Inglis,
was called Pleasant Street. It was on this street in 1865 that construction of a grand house
commenced. By 1867 Edward W. Chipman and his socialite wife Mahala moved into one of the
most expensive and extravagant homes in the city. From the very beginning, it was considered
a lavish place to hold social gatherings and Mahala hosted dances and parties for local society
which included British officers stationed in the garrison.

When Chipman’s dry-goods business began to fail, the house was lost to the Sheriff and sold
at auction to a local real estate investor, who flipped the property to two sisters,
Sarah and Jane Romans. It was the Romans Sisters who turned the property into the
Waverley Hotel, building an addition on to the back to accommodate more guests, making
The Waverley one of Halifax’s finest residential inns. During that time, it boasted some well-known guests including Irish poet Oscar Wilde, who has a room named after him, Anna Leonowens, the inspiration for the movie and musical “The King and I” and well known showman P.T. Barnum of the Barnum and Bailey Circus.

artist rendition of the Waverley in the late 1800's

After the Romans sisters retired in 1905 the building changed hands a couple of times and in
1944, during the Second World War, it was purchased by the Blue Triangle Women's League.
The Women’s League was a charitable organization that stemmed from the YWCA. One of their
functions was to look after war brides immigrating through Pier 21 and many of these women
stayed at the Waverley before moving on to their homes across the country.
Members of the Women's Royal Canadian Naval Service (WRCNS or "Wrens") were also housed there.

Calvin Blades is the manager of the Waverley and has worked there for the past 25 years.
He has met some of these women, who have returned for reunions. They remember their time
at the hotel fondly.

“They tell of a much different time back then. For instance, when they wanted to have gentlemen
callers, it had to be supervised visits in the sitting room. They certainly didn’t go out alone, or
entertain in their rooms.”

Blades was hired by owner Abe Leventhal who had purchased the Inn in 1950’s. By this time,
The Waverley, and the neighbourhood was in a decline. In fact, for a while, the area from
Spring Garden Road to Inglis Street was Halifax’s red-light district, so it’s no surprise that
The Waverley saw its share of illicit action, with some of Madam Ada McCallum’s girls sitting in
the lobby.

When Leventhal and his business partner first purchased the property, it was as a redevelopment
project. The initial thought was to tear down the building and put up a motel complex but luckily
they didn’t act on that idea right away. Later, those plans changed when Leventhal and his wife
Elaine, were visiting her family in Massachusetts. They noticed the trend throughout
New England was to renovate old Victorian homes into inns and B&Bs and they saw the potential in the Waverley. It wasn’t until the early 80’s that this plan was put into action.
Elaine Leventhal wanted to restore the inn to an upscale property, and that meant the clientele
had to change and the ladies of the evening were no longer welcome.

Mrs. Leventhal’s taste was more on the lavish side, so the decor became quite opulent with
plush burgundy carpeting and dusty rose embossed wallpaper. Most of the Victorian antiques
were acquired at this time.

Although he has been there for 25 years, Blades said he originally had no intention of staying
that long. But the Leventhals made it “a fun place to work with a kind of family atmosphere” and
the returning guests became friends as they came back several times a year, over the years.
Other long-time staff stayed for the same reason. Calvin remembers the Leventhal's going to
dinner in the evenings and popping in afterward to drop off a meal or dessert to him as he worked the front desk.

In the 1990’s, Abe Leventhal entered into an agreement with the provincial government to allow
refugees to stay in the hotel. Drita Marshall, who fled her home in Albania, was one of those
guests. She credits Mr. Leventhal not just for providing her with a temporary home, but a job as
well. She remains on staff today.

There are other “returning guests” that become a topic of conversation at the Waverley, those
of the ghostly variety. The Waverley has been the subject of several television “ghost hunter”
type shows. Staff and guests alike claim to have seen the same apparition of a Victorian era
woman in a long dress. She has been spotted in the hallways and sometimes sitting at the foot
of a bed. No one seems to know who she was in life, but in death, all reports say there is positive feeling, nothing malevolent, so the Waverley ghosts is a friendly and agreeable guest.

Upon the death of Abe Leventhal three years ago, the fate of the Waverley was in question. As a location of prime real estate, there was much interest and an offer was accepted. Known for building condominiums, Nassim Ghosn had every intention of tearing down The Waverley and putting up a modern building. But once again, the Waverley’s charm saved it from the wrecking ball. When Ghosn walked through the place, learned its history and heard stories from the staff, he decided that the Waverley had to stay The Waverely. And once again, the inn is in the hands of a family.


Major plans are underway for renovations, with a new, modern building behind and the original
building to remain. The Ghosn’s hope to open up the main level as a cafe or restaurant while
keeping the Victorian feel in the original guest rooms upstairs.

For over 150 years the Waverley Inn has weathered many storms, literally and figuratively
speaking. It has survived the Halifax Explosion, world wars, economic decline and threats of
demolition. It is rooted into Halifax’s history and grounded to see its future.

carpe diem and auld lang syne

This is the first morning of 2019.

I didn't hear the New Year, it crept in while I was sleeping.

It also brought the snow, so on this first morning, I get to watch it drop softly from the still-dark sky.


2018 left with a lot of retrospection.

It was a year of changes that led me to reassess. New Year's Eve can do that anyway, but this feels different.

It feels urgent. But not sudden.


Almost a year ago I was speaking with a friend. His life was coming to an end soon, and sometimes, in those times, we are granted gifts of clarity. I was talking about the job I was doing. I loved the work, the people, but I couldn't make it balance. It felt like all I did was work and sleep. It was then that my friend said to me, "You're making a living, but not a life".
In that instant, I fell into tears. Something in those words made a deep impact and a new year later, I'm unable to shake them.


We always hear the phrases seize the day, life is short, things could change in an instant... and we know them to be true, but not really. Not down deep where we register truth, that place somewhere below our ribs. Those words flutter down like the ashes of burnt pages until they settle and only then can they be gathered. Only then can you begin to sweep out what you no longer need.


More than anything I am hyper-aware of how little time we have in this world.
More than ever I want my time to be spent in meaningful ways.
I don't what that is yet, but I know it because it has settled in that place of truth.

Resolutions aren't my thing, though the start of a new year holds so much possibility. We sing Auld Lang Syne to remember days gone by and drink to old friends. We straddle the last day of the old year and the first of the new, somewhere between being prone to nostalgia and projecting what we hope will come. But we also must stand on firm and present ground.

Sometimes carpe diem means watching the snow fall on to the new year, wrapping your hands around a cup of fresh coffee and knowing that in this moment, you have all you need.

High functioning lows and disfunctional highs

"Snap out of it. "

"You're too smart to be here. "

"This isn't you. "

Those are sentences I heard from someone I knew after I had been admitted to hospital for severe depression. Despondent, suicidal depression.

But all of those statements were wrong.
It was me. 

Intellect had nothing to do with it. 

There is no such thing as snapping out of it. 

In fairness, people saw what I wanted them to see- I hid everything in a fun flurry of distraction. But in truth, I was on walking life support. The outward appearance was a facade; a new paint job on a rotting house. An inside filled with chaos, papered with a smiling face. I had been like that for quite some time, functioning well on the surface, all the while crumbling at the foundation. And you can only patch and prop up for so long. 

I don't talk about that part of my journey often, partly because I want to leave it behind where it belongs. But also because, as much as there has been a movement toward acceptance and understanding, there is still a stigma that makes daily life a little bit more difficult to manoeuvre. 

I don't identify it because I don't want any of my decisions or reactions to be questioned or judged as not fully authentic. 

Those closest to me know, of course, but I don't offer it up. 

I've made peace with it. And with myself. Most days. 

But there is that fear. 

Fear that it will return in the form of light-eating shadows. 

When there is a low day, or a sad one, I must assess it. I have to be diligent and aware. Is it a regular sad or a slippery-send -you- down- the- hole- sad? I don't have that luxury of just mindlessly being in it. I have to make sure I know what it is first. I heard another line from the foot of my hospital bed all those years ago. 

"Everyone gets blue"

Ah, but there is a big difference between baby blue and midnight. A big difference and a thin line. 

Not all blues are equal

The lows aren't the only problem. They are easier to mask than extreme highs so I also have to watch if I'm too "up". Manic episodes are more dangerous. The body count is higher. With depression, you mostly harm yourself. When you are manic, everyone around is caught in the crossfire so there is a greater risk of casualty. It is difficult to trust a good mood, and even harder to celebrate it. Sadly, I must treat it with suspicion. 

Admittedly, there are times when I visit old resentments. There is regret about lost time and opportunities. More than once I've had to start from scratch and truth be told, it sometimes makes me angry; angry that I'm not where I should be at this point in my life. There is also anger because it is out of my control. It's like having an out of body experience while in a car crash. You know the wheels have come off and all you can do is hold your breath and hang on to the steering wheel. 

Each time I went skidding and crashing on that stony hard bottom, knowing the next step was nothingness, a nothingness that  I welcomed and wanted because to fight was just too much.  When you are at the bottom again, the climb back up seems impossible. Starting from scratch means your peer group passes you and you watch everyone that was on the same path, the same level, become successful in career and in life. Your success comes in the ways no one will know. While others were succeeding in getting great roles, great deals, great jobs, a success for me became the ability to take a shower, to put on clothes.

It's as easy to get caught up in regret as it is pointless. I remind myself that I should be proud of my rebirths and all that I have overcome. But it's hard not to think of what I may have become. I resent the reoccurring resurrection.

And so I remain the sentinel of my psyche, always watching for the enemy.
On the low days, I smile and laugh and joke, using those tools as the grand deflector. I make decisions, fulfil obligations, do what I have to in order to maintain order. And no one knows because I don't want them to know. I keep it from family so they don't worry, I keep it from my work so they don't judge. I keep my highs and my lows to myself until I know for certain that I have to put it out there and let someone else handle it.

It's a balancing act which constantly requires my attention and a good safety net. So every day I stand up, put one foot in front of the other and try not to look down.
Or behind.

bring on the light

Renovations

                             

I've changed the name and look of this blog.
Originally it was called "random ruminations and rants" but I've come to find that too heavy. The expectations are too negative.

So my attempt to put a bit of light into the world, I've decided to call it Swum Hell or High Water.
It seems lighter, floaty...
And it suits me more. Always swimming. So far unsinkable.

Not that there still won't be rants. Or ruminations. Or randomness.
But I've been navigating hell's high waters for some time now, and despite everything, I'm still afloat. As long as I keep coming to the surface, it's all good.