Belonging

People speak about time off as being such a great thing.  

But time off can also mean the absence of routine and structure and for those of us who thrive on those things the loss of those leave gaps in time.  

The gaps are spaces to breathe and rest, yes, but also to be alone and in ones thoughts. 

I find this hard.  

I cycle back in my thoughts to the trauma of the last 4 months and relive it.  Over and over.  It is still my last thought as I go to sleep and often creeps into my head early in the morning.  Time off doesn't stop that.

On Monday I headed out to hike new terrain.  I love finding new places. This loop hike seemed perfect thanks to my Hiking guru friend for the suggestion!   When I saw the warning of a bear in the area I paused only briefly.  This, I thought, is real life practicing of Brave Space, I can do this.   Once I stopped jumping at every shadow and saw a few other hikers who appeared uneaten I settled down and enjoyed my hike immensely.  Until, that is, I came out in a parking lot I was not expecting - directly across the valley from where I thought I was. Never fear - I have trusty legs - I traversed the valley - no sign of bears and found my car again.  It was a lovely morning.

Yesterday was not lovely.  I rested in bed in the morning, dozing after a terrible sleep the night the night before.  I had CBC playing and I half listened half dozed the morning away.  But my anxiety was ever present.  I got up but I couldn't shake the restlessness.  I saw an email I didn't want to see and my heart took another thumping.  I went to the gym in hopes of distraction and to stretch my achy legs after my 11km hike. It was good.  It is a good place of acceptance and belonging and I couldn't do without it.  Without it's people.

Today I knew I needed to do something different - to get up and get out.  I woke up with the boys early but had a nap after they left for work.  At 9:30am I headed into the village in search of bacon.

This village is technically a suburb of the City of Richmond.  It's in the SW corner of the island and has a big fishing fleet.  It is a quaint area with shops and restaurants - ever changing yet somehow still maintains the village feel. It is a 10 minute walk from my front door. 

I went to the iconic Steveston Hotel for breakfast.  I was warmly greeted by my server and coffee. Amen.   I brought a book to read - I still feel a bit odd eating out alone.  I opened the book but, as usual, I was more interested in the various conversations going on at tables around me to really concentrate.  

Breakfast was exactly as it always is. Simple, hot, tasty. 

I wandered down to the waterfront and saw the tourists heading onto the whale watching boats.  I checked to see if any of the local Spot Prawns were selling but the sign said they would be back at 2pm.  


I wandered down towards my favourite village bookstore to get a coffee and that unmistakable and grounding smell of old books.  

On the way I heard someone call out my name.  I had a lovely sidewalk visit with an old friend I don't see often.  It was lovely to catch up.

I got to the book/coffee store whose delightful owner reminded me I had a free coffee on my card and made me a delicious free long americano.  As I was walking out I heard someone call my name.  I had another lovely chat with a friend also enjoying the book/coffee combination.

I popped into the Sweet Spot bakery to grab a quiche for later and as I stepped back onto the sidewalk I heard someone call my name.  Another lovely connection with another old friend and promise to have lunch soon. 

As I walked home I pondered the magic of my village and how just being in it for a brief time had left me feeling uplifted and .... seen. It struck me - what it offered me today, through the beautiful people I bumped into was...belonging.  

Belonging is powerful.  Being seen is powerful.   Hearing your name called out in friendship is powerful. 

I am home, baking cookies, marking assignments and listening to Mumford and Sons.  I am off to teach soon.  

My heart is still bruised and battered and I have a journey still to go but today I am feeling the well being of belonging.  

And I could not be more grateful.

It only takes a spark

Well well well

I have been absent from this space for a good while.  Although it has never been far from my mind. I have written many posts in my head but have not been able to get them onto the page.  

My head has been a messy place these past few months.  

Today I find myself sitting, in the middle of a Thursday afternoon, on a ferry instead of at my desk.

Yesterday I sent a note I never imagined sending to my leadership team and board. 

And today I am on leave.  

I have never been on leave for anything other than illness, surgery or vacation.

But on Monday I faced the fact, while sitting in my therapists office, that I have reached the end of my personal resources and need a break to heal body, mind and spirit. 

I am burnt out.... or at least the tiny flicker that is still alive is burning dangerously low. But it only takes a spark to get the fire going again and I need to save that spark.

One might expect it is easy to walk away, to take the break. 

It is not.  

There is shame and a sense of failure on more than one front. Failure of not having coped better with a traumatic event that happened at work in early January and the terrifying and incredibly hard media / social media fallout, failure to have cared enough for myself to stay the course, failure as a leader...as a partner, a friend, a parent... failure to see where I was headed.

That shame and fear kept me at my desk longer than was wise.  

And now I am on leave.  To make my therapist happy it would be for several weeks.  

But it is for 7.5 days.  

It's a start.

A start of healing.  A start of intentional self-care.  A start to regaining perspective.  A start to regaining my joy.  

I didn't get here in a day and I won't get out of this in a day.  Or 7.5 days but I took the first, very hard, step.  I am counting on Brene Brown to be correct in her assessment of vulnerability.  I feel very exposed and vulnerable right now. Adrift.

I'm sailing off to see my girl, my precious girl and have some Mama - Daughter time.  That makes my heart so happy.  And we'll sail back tomorrow and see our boys and the Byres 4 will be together for 48 hours... a beautiful kick start to my journey back to myself. 

As always on hard journeys there is much to be learned - about ourselves, about our tribe, about our capacity to persevere and endure. 

My tribe at home and at work have been steadfast and I am here thanks to them.  

I'm ok and I am back in this space to reclaim my voice. To rediscover my love of writing and sharing. 

Thank you for being here. Please feel no need to respond.  This is not for that.  It's for moving forward and growing and finding steady ground for my head and heart.