Hats off... and more

Today is another day of firsts. This would have been my father's  birthday. He loved celebrating birthdays as it usually brought all his favourite people together. I believe Dad loved celebrating his birthday because it reminded him that he lived one more year in-spite of MS. It reminded him that even living in a wheelchair, his life rolled along quite nicely. Oh, it wasn't perfect but as he would often say... no life is.

A friend told me when he died that she was going to miss seeing him rolling down the street to the mall wearing his cap. From his daily coffee meet-ups with the 'old codgers club' to his dinner dates with his best gal, he was always recognized. It wasn't just because he rolled through the neighbourhood but because he also never left the house without wearing a cap. He loved the dapper look a good cap gave him but he was also "hair challenged" so the cap helped to protect this head from sunburn or wind chills. When I took up knitting, I made an alpaca ear-flap toque that he only wore when it was colder than -10 otherwise it was far too hot for him. He did love that soft 'paca toque.

Today, through tears... I will celebrate the memories of past parties. Laughing with him when he was given a balloon party hat for his 75th birthday. Teasing him about that ugly straw hat he always wore in the summer. And I'll finish that toque I started making for him... to be given away to a shelter. I couldn't bring myself to finish it after he died but now, I can't think of a better way to honour the day then by giving away his gift to another who needs it... it's something he would've done anyways.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

Changes or some such thing...

I have always been plagued with self-doubt. Lately, it's all I can do to go to work and wonder what changes may occur that I just may not be able to deal with. Link that with General Anxiety Disorder and it's a recipe for disaster. Here's the irony to changes tho... chopped all my hair off and letting the "arctic highlights" shine bright and nary a moment of doubt was in play. It was freeing.

It's all about what I can control and I understand that. I can control my hair but I can't control changes at work. I can control who I spend personal time with and how we help each other be better people. I'm not here to solely make others look good to other people. I don't expect others to make me look... that's totally up to my self-doubting self. While my family and friends may be a reflection of me I have no expectations that what they do reflects on me or I on them.

There is the crux of my self-doubt and anxiety... I spend too much time worrying about what I'm incapable of and not enough on what I've been able to accomplish on my own two bunioned feet. I worry about what others think of me when I'm in full panic mode and unable to manage even the simplest of things... that what happens to me reflects badly on those around me. All I want to do then is hide and yes, knit... something I have full control over.

Every project I finish... every sock that that fits... every shawl that drapes... I am one stitch closer to a better self. Forgiving myself isn't easy but if I can rip back an old unfinished project from hell and start something new... I need to be able to allow myself to also let go and start anew. While I'm great at giving positive talk to others... positive self talk is not my forte. When I'm in high anxiety mode being positive is the furthest from my mind. I guess one good thing is I recognize this. Isn't that what they say... recognizing the problem is the first step to healing?

I have a lot of steps to go... still...  and lots of knitting to help get me there. In the mean time... I'll hang onto the big step of letting my true hair shine through... and to help get through the dark, I'll stash bust in the yarn room and look for colours to help me shine.

planes, trains and automobiles...

I'm taking the LRT to work now... long story short, I lost my downtown parking but it's not all that bad. I'm saving some money with only buying train tickets vs. parking fees. I don't have to deal with rush hour traffic anymore. The walk to and from the station isn't bad at all even when the wind is nasty.

But... I have to plan things a bit more. No more last minute errands on the way home after work. There's as much leg room as one has on the cheap seats on planes. It gets pretty dang warm on the trains and that's a problem for when my internal solar flares kick in!

But... I get to knit. A 20 minute train ride is enough time to complete at least two rounds on a pair of socks or a few rows of plain garter knitting on a shawl. Focused knitting is an interesting way to calm the mind even with the hustle and bustle and bell dinging.

I've started to read a book called Knit for Health and Wellness. Most knitters know that we do this to keep from hurting people... well, that's what we jokingly say but there may actually be something to that. So... while I attempt to avoid elbowing my seat partner, my goal is to put into practice what I learn from the book and share said learning's here.

In the mean time, let's see how many shawls I can finish on the train over the year... one done... second one on its way.

 

Keep Calm and Garter On...

Today is #BellLetsTalk day... where Bell donates 5cents for every tweet etc. to mental health initiatives across the country. The irony is that exactly one year ago today, I went on medical stress leave for a month. Lots have happened since then... I've come a long way since that major anxiety attack that brought me to uncontrollable tears and down to my knees. I still have a ways to go but I do recognize my growth.

It wasn't a rosy year but knowing today that I'm not where I was last this time last year has given me strength. I've re-learned to notice the anxiety moments and manage them a whole lot sooner. How? Breathing is cliché but that is a part of it. Closing my office door when I need time to myself or even just saying 'no' when I just can't deal with crowds.

And then there is knitting... surprise! I have come to enjoy the simple garter stitch. You know the one... the basic back and forth knitting. What I call my 'stupid knitting'... when I don't have to think about following a chart or counting stitches or remembering if this was the cable row or not. Simple, "I don't have to look" kinda knitting. It is these moments where can just focus on the movement of my fingers and watch the growth of the project... my Zen. There is something very pleasing about that.

When I need to quiet the mind... I've come to learn that the garter stitch is my friend... the one that is always there for you no matter what happens in your life. The one that will hold your hand and just say 'there, there' with no expectations other than knowing that that is enuff.

I'm almost finished my wee Baktus Scarf... maybe it's time to do another Doctor Who scarf... the ultimate in Zen knitting... or a test of my resolve. Either way, sometimes it really is just about the journey.

Sweet 16...?

I'm hoping 2016 will be sweet since 2015 was a year I'm more than happy to say goodbye to. Between the ex-boss that resulted in stress leave from work, managing the returned panic attacks, holding my father's hand while he was in palliative care... and so much more... 2015, well, it wasn't nice knowing you. 

Without my father to talk to, a lot of things built up far more that it normally would have. Strange how that happens. When I'd return from a work trip, he'd be the first person I'd call to tell him all about it. My last week long work trip in December was very stressful and I missed my father even more. He would have talked me down, tell me "all is ok, dear" and then would ask what I was knitting while sitting in those "swanky hotel rooms us government folk got"... oh, he was a funny guy!

My biggest cheerleader is no longer there for me and my un-balanced core needs to hear "all is ok, dear" even more. So this year will be a year of looking to hear those words in different ways. A year of simplifying things in order the clear the clutter... oh, don't worry... I'm not going all granola or anything. While I research and learn and write... it's all to find my centre again.

Of course, knitting will be involved. I believe that art, in all it's many forms, is healing. Knitting has been my healer and carried me in the past and it will again. The simplifying begins with knitting projects that only my stash will support (unless I'm travelling cuz souvenir yarn doesn't count). Good thing I have a large stash. 

Another step... chopped off my hair to a spunky pixie cut! It has always been long since high school. Good thing there's knitting for in-spite of having my own internal solar flares (that's another story), the neck gets a tad cold but oh, the amount of shampoo I'm saving!

While I go through 2016... I will go through it remembering my father's big Irish heart and twinkly blue eyes. While he may no longer be here... my new tat is as my reminder that he is always with me. The knit blue celtic-knot heart with a sprig of Irish Heather is on my right arm so that when I knit, or do anything else, I see it... my reminder that all will be ok.

Last year was a year of heartbreaking tears... this year? Healing tears of joy... and when I begin to doubt, all I need to do is touch my Blue Heart... breathe deep and say to myself, all will be ok.

Oh, and it was yet another shawl I was knitting in that 'swanky' hotel... yup... one healing tear at a time.

of love and loss

I was adored by my father... which makes his death on July 30 a hard loss to live with but live with I must. It has been a tough few months with hospital visits and overnight stays holding his hand all the while working and managing my anxiety attacks. These are bittersweet memories. While these and other memories of my father may fade as I grow old, the love for first born will never be forgotten. 

My father was a story teller... a true seanchaí. Even while he was in the hospital, he charmed the staff with his stories and flirty blue eyes. He had a true Irish soul. It wasn't until I visited Ireland for the time did I realize how deep his Irish soul was. Every tour guide, bus driver, B&B proprietor, publican in the local or the lads in the same local... they were all story tellers. They would drawn you in with a story and there was no going back... the lilt didn't hurt. That's when I fully understood how Irish my father was even tho he never stepped foot on the ol' sod. His Irish grand parents, Sam and Martha McNeill Mills influenced him in so many ways as my father influenced me.  His soul is my soul as we both love storytelling. 

Blue Heart
In honour of Da's blue eyes

Dad charmed young and old, friends and strangers, men and women... his charm came from a genuine love for all he met. He had no malice. Considering he lived in his wheelchair for nearly 30 years he was one of the most positive people I knew. My brother is the charmer and I'm not nearly as positive or as patient or as kind as my father was but I'm working on it. It is his spirit of forgiveness that I am trying hard to emulate right now. You see, a 'friend' betrayed my trust some time ago and while that person is no longer in my life, the damage caused to others is coming to light. I don't do well with betrayal. The last person who betrayed me nearly destroyed me so while forgiveness is hard, I must for my sake.  

If I am to honour my father's memory, I must also honour his greatest gifts. While dad is no longer with me, may his strength and twinkly blue eyes continue to envelope me on my journey of life.

Mindful knitting or some such thing...

I can't seem to count to three... sitting in a lovely corner at a recent knit retreat and I had to tink back a section over and over again on a new project because I couldn't count to three. I also started a simple crochet chevron baby blanket over the Easter weekend and it took me three days to complete 20 rows because, feckity feck, I couldn't count to three!

Maybe it was because I was knitting so feverishly to complete the round two sock madness socks that it just wore me right out. Maybe it was because my back has been acting up that I couldn't go to the gym for my trainer to torture me. Maybe it was because I've not quite yet adjusted to returning to work after my leave. Maybe it's a bit of everything that has turned counting to three an elusive task.

I absentmindedly bought a copy of the Love of Knitting magazine to peruse over while at the retreat. It's what one does at retreats... read, chat, knit, eat, chat and did I mention knit and eat? Then I read one of the articles... "Mindful Knitting" by Mark Lipinski and it resonated with me. I do wish I discovered this earlier but let me sum it up for you...

• Slow Down... it isn't about the pace you knit but about paying attention to each stitch you knit
• Let Go... while I may never work one project at a time, I can let go of things I know I will never complete
• Open Up... to new techniques, new stitches, new ways to be creative
• Think Back... cuz it's not about the end product but about the journey... towards a better me

The past few months of managing my panic attacks and learning new ways to deal with the stresses of work has been stressful all on its own. This Slow Stitching Movement is certainly well worth learning more about. Our world moves too fast. Maybe we all need to be more mindful of whatever it is we're doing. Time to be more focused... more deliberate in what we do... time to slow down and reconnect with ourselves. If we all do a little more of this maybe we can then be more mindful of each other.

Now, if you'll excuse me... time to get ready for round 3 of Sock Madness and remember how to count to three...

You look fine...

I learned long ago how to hide my inner anxiety. So much so that I became of one of those 'strong women' with an 'arty flair'... a nice way of saying a little eccentric. I'm ok with the eccentric bit... my inner self tries to channel Auntie Mame! I was also ok with the strong bit until 'being strong' over took me and didn't allow me to fully acknowledge dangers of holding everything in.

Here's the other thing about hiding... when someone asks "what do you have to be anxious about? You don't have kids/not physically ill/have a good job"... yada yada yada... so not helpful. Judging as to what level one can be considered incapacitated based on personal perception is very destructive and heaven forbid you look fine. We do a huge dis-service to people with mental health issues by judging them on what we see on the surface or telling them that they shouldn't feel that way because others have it far worse. I'm guilty of that... face it, we all are. Being on the receiving end of the raised eyebrow and judgement because I should have no real reason for having anxiety/panic attacks made me a tad angry and well, frankly... a little ashamed of my past behaviours. I did the very same thing and I'm not proud of that. I prided myself on being open and accepting... huh... I wasn't and being on the receiving end of such judgement was humbling.
Yes, I am a strong person and love where my strength has taken me in life and it will be that strength to help carry me through this. It is that strength that will help me be more gentle with others. It will be that strength to help me find, use, create whatever it is I need to help un-lock what has hurt and held me back.

It's interesting that the Sock Madness (you know, that crazy speed knitting competition) qualifying pattern is based on a Harry Potter spell "Alohomora"... to unlock doors/windows. Knitting and a really good latte has become my personal Alohomora spell for un-locking my locked up brain cells and releasing the anxiety. This pattern... one stitch atta time, one door/window unlocked atta time... has brought me another step closer to myself.

Yes... I will soon be as fine as I look... but until then I'm off to the local coffee shop for another latte and a wee bit o' knittin...

madness... sock madness

I'm kinda wishing my leave was this month... it's sock madness time! For the uninitiated, this is a wee sock speed knitting competition and frankly, work is getting in the way of play. Well, that happens all the time but never more so than madness time. I also find it rather ironic that this is happening after I return to work from my stress leave... my own personal madness time.

While I will never beat the fastest knitters... within 24 hours a pair was already completed and I barely have the cuffs done... I do enjoy the challenge of improving my skills. This is something I have control over... my skills, my time, my choice. I understand that's part of my anxiety issues... control. Nothing like challenging that with a little mad competition. The challenge is that I have no control over the patterns for the competition. I must knit the pattern as per specs within a designated time frame... no creative adjustments, no deviations, no changes what so ever.

More often than not, it all turns out fine... just trust the pattern. Kinda like life... there are things we have no control over but just have to trust. It is hard when the trust has been abused in the past but bit by bit, trusting again becomes a little easier. Kinda like the knitting... bit by bit, project after project, the skills become more refined and the end product worthy of praise.

Now… to get me arse in gear and knit during breaks, lunch, meetings… ok, I might be pushing it during the meetings. The boss frowns on that… if he only knew that’s what keeping me from hurting him!!!

A step forward...

"You don't have to talk about it... we can sit and knit"... perfect words said by Vanessa. And sit and knit and drink tea and eat chocolate and watch old movies we did. "You're not having a good time, are you" was all that Diane needed to say as we walked about the Muttart Pyramids. "Strong people need help, too" as Trish and Co held my hands.

It really is the small things that stand out while working through the anxiety attacks. Big things are too overwhelming so it's easy to stay home in the quiet and watch the world go by but steps must be made to move forward... albeit small ones. Going to the market was a big step as it meant being in a crowd. Sitting on the City Hall steps with Diane and Shannon, coffee and butter tarts while watching people was the perfect way to get used to the noise. I didn't stay too long but it was again, a step forward.

Sitting in the yarn room and knitting has been my constant companion... and many a project has been completed. Baby Blanket, Big Honkin' Shawl, a wee bunny and a project bag. Surprise... and a new shawl was started. This wasn't in the plans... there are three pairs of socks on the go that need to be finished cuz the needles are going to be required for Sock Madness (that's for another post). 

You see, I love knitting shawls. They are my go to project because I love wearing them... my accessory of choice. When this pattern popped up and I read the description I knew it was to be. Mil Pasos means Thousands Steps in Spanish, steps you make every single day of your life... and sometimes, one step atta time is all it takes. So, one kind word at a time, one stitch at a time... one step at a time... 

love 'n such

A stolen afternoon from work and no guilt here! Oh, it's standing at the door but I sure ain't letting it in for a cup of tea!

I have more on my plate in my personal life than my work life but isn't that always the way for everyone? So, while I have a wee lull in my work world... time to catch up in my real world. Lots of knitting projects to do and... ack... already trying to plan out the Christmas knit list. 

STOP!!! Don't get ahead of yourself girl... relax and finish the summer knits. 

There's a wedding to attend in three weeks and only 1/3 of the project completed... travel over The Pond in five weeks and haven't even started the two gifts let alone finish the lace pullover I want to take for myself. Do I plan too big? Knit too slow? I know I'm a polygamous knitter but being bored with one knit atta time is NOT an option. 

To take the whole summer off would be a delight. Not just for traveling or knitting up a storm but to do more things in my fair city. I love Edmonton and all that it offers... the festivals, the markets, the food trucks, the parks... I could go on and on. Suffice it to say I want to be able to give back in some form to the city that has given much to me. I know, a wee bit sappy but it's true. Oh to combine giving back with knitty goodness... oh, the mind is scheming, I mean planning already... Yarn Art anyone?

I'll leaving the over-active mind whirling away in the background but in the mean time, back to the gifts and knitting in the warmth of the sun with my cup of tea!