A Palimpsest of Soul and Skin

After a lovely long weekend with Warren (thoughtful gifts, a surprise bed and breakfast trip, a little surprise celebration at my sisters' apartment) I am 40 years old today. I thought I would/should have something incredibly witty, insightful and profound to say about this milestone. In fact, I had very much planned to. I'm sure that I planned my profound Turning Forty journal/blog entry all year long, as a matter of fact. But I do not have those things to say. At all. Curious. For as long as I can recall, I've used occasions like birthdays, Christmas/Solstice and the New Year as starting points for all these fabulous changes and improvements. I've spent most of my life trying to arrive at some elusive point of perfection, where I would be perfectly loved by all, entirely clear and focused and successful (having done everything I have ever said that I wanted to do by the time I was 40, of course). I expected that turning 40 meant that I was going to come i

I've been reading (in fits and starts) Carl Honoré's In Praise of Slow (when I get the chance, and, er, yes, I know how ironic that is). I'm still quite early in the book, but it's quite readable and it's stoking a fire in my belly. The chapter I'm in right now is about the Slow Food Movement , and how timely it is. I've struggled for years with eating for convenience or compulsion, and increasingly I've realized (when I have lucid moments) how little I'm actually enjoying food. How little thought I put into what I'm snarfing. How terribly rushed it all is. Since moving to Montréal almost three years ago, I've been exposed to a somewhat different approach to gastronomy than I ever experienced in Toronto or anywhere I lived in British Columbia. There's a definite sense of discernment and a pride in the quality of good food and wine—which is absolutely necessary in a city that has such an abundance of restaurants. Happily, we live wit

I've been having an especially hard time with anxiety over the last number of months. With the impending glorious entry into my Forties (6 weeks from now? Already?) I'm determined not let that demon creep into what I consider to be power years and hang around like a bad smell (I'm not talking about normal fears and worries that all of us deal with. I'm talking about debilitating anxiety that interferes with work, school, relationships and health). (Fear is the mind-killer... ) The things that scare me the most (illness, loss, kids coming to harm, planet implosion, the evil that humans do, etc.) simply will not be staved off with a glib statement of "oh, that probably won't happen me/someone I love". Maybe it will, or maybe it won't. Maybe whether or not it happens is besides the point. Either way, there's something really counterproductive about thinking obsessively on the Maybe. Daily. Repetitively. Intrusively. The only worthwhile answer I ca

1. I passed my second exam! 2. I registered for my course! On March 25, 2009, I begin a course, 1.5 years in length, that, once completed, will earn me a college certificate in Graphic Design! I'm very, very excited. Because I have had to jump through numerous hoops (due to being on E.I.), I'm left somewhat frayed at the edges. I have one more meeting with the government agent to get the final stamp of approval for the funding, but I was reassured today by the counselor at the school that all would be well - this, she said, is due process for all students on E.I. She telephoned my agent just to be sure that all was in order, so, now that I am passed and registered and paid for, I think, I think, I think I should be able to exhale and actually allow myself to be unreservedly excited about this! Now, for the upcoming weeks: lots of yoga and walks, journalling and reading, a spring cleaning all the way around, and plenty of healing and restorative time with myself. I really fee

For the last few weeks I've been preparing for the two entry exams for the Graphic Design course that I've been wanting to get into full-time. Between learning completely new material and juggling other demands of the administrative, official and teenagerly sort, I've been increasingly...distracted. I don't know about anyone else but it seems to me that staying centered doesn't come naturally to me. Perhaps it is true, as so many in my life have observed, that I am way too hard on myself. I tend to think that I am not being hard enough . There are things that I want to accomplish and I keep thinking that if I just kick my own ass harder that I'll get those things done. This ends up being counter-productive as I simply end up slapping myself around in ways that I would never, ever think to do to anyone else. Without realizing it, I've slid bit by bit into a mild winter depression. Being unemployed for the last five months while feeling somewhat trapped